the first green thing

It's OK to be scared.
I found this site to be absolutely amazing. It contains a pictorial play-by-play from a young Ukrainian woman’s motorcycle ride through the irradiated areas surrounding Chernobyl. She has some kind of clearance in order to get to the areas in the photos, and carries a small radiation meter with her. Even though the English isn’t perfect, you can tell this woman writes well. Such a sad story, and even today the details aren’t fully known. The Soviet Union was too proud to let the world know how bad things were. Anyway, check out the site, the last few pages at the kindergarten are almost too much. Poor people. As usual, the free online encyclopedia Wikipedia has an excellent entry on the Chernobyl disaster, and some links near the bottom to more pictures from the 4000sq. mi. “dead zone.”

Every time I drive by large office buildings at night, I always try to glance in the ever-lit windows. Something is fascinating about looking into an empty office building that’s still lit like it’s the working hours. Every time I do catch myself staring through the night into a lit and empty cubicles, I find myself looking for two people doing it on a desk. No really – I look because one day, I will catch two late-night employees getting some office-booty on the boss’ desk. Just like if I always look at closed garage doors with lit garages inside, I’ll eventually witness a stabbing-in-silhouette. If I keep my nighttime office-window and garage door vigil, I know one day I’ll see a clandestine affair or Rear Window murder.

Friday night Sharaun and I decided not to answer the phone, and to have a night to ourselves. It was great. Not that our phone rings off the hook or that we’re ever the social butterflies, but it is nice to just ignore the world and enjoy one and other for a little. We cooked a pizza and headed out to catch the remake of Dawn of the Dead. The movie was cool, good campy horror – albeit a little overly blood-soaked. Even though you could basically take the plot of Maximum Overdrive, replace the machines-gone-wrong with the rabid zombies of 28 Days Later, and you’d have this flick. Not saying it’s bad, just tried and true horror. And I’m serious about the Maximum Overdrive thing too – there’s an unlikely armory, a quest through sewers, and a last-ditch flight to an island.

Our trip to the movies on a Friday night really made me feel really old. If you don’t know, the movie theater on a Friday night is like the sole oasis in the teenybopper desert. The place was simply crawling with 15 year old girls with bare midriffs, doggedly pursued and ogled by pants-saggin’, crooked-ballcapped boys. It becomes instantly evident that none of these kids are here for movies. This is simply a convenient place for the teen masses to come together to talk, flirt, and hold “look at me” contests.

Am I really that old? I mean, I found myself walking by large herds of these giggly, too-cool-for-everything teens and just resenting them for being there. I had to physically restrain myself from wagging my index finger at the young whippersnappers as I passed. Ugh. Has it really come to this? Honestly though, during the movie we sat in the midst of these punks. They talk, answer phone calls, run up and down the aisles, talk back to the movie, and totally make me want to throttle them. Lord, I know I was exactly like these kids; I know it. No wonder old people hate teenagers, they ask for it. Yeah, so I’m exaggerating – but not by much. If there is such a thing as karma though, teenagers will wreak massive amounts of havoc on me, because I’m cosmically owed it.

Moving on, the rest of the weekend was good. Saturday we helped move Melissa into her new place as Anthony’s roommate. It was OK, except for the part where Anthony left my cellphone on the back of the truck, causing it to fall out in transit and be run over by multiple cars. Some kind person driving next to us informed us of the cell phone incident, and we pulled over to pick up the pieces. Surprisingly, the thing still works – so I was able to transfer off all my data. Now all that’s left is to get a new phone and upload my data and SIM card, and I’ll be back running.

Sunday I spent working around the house. I planted this beautiful Japanese maple that Pat gave me. Pat and Cynthia recently joined the new homeowners club, and this potted tree was a holdover from the previous owner. They decided they didn’t want the tree, which due to it’s health and size is likely worth several hundred dollars, and they donated it to my barren backyard. It’s the first green thing in my backyard that’s intentionally growing, and it looks great. I also mowed my lawn with Anthony’s lawnmower. I had to use Anthony’s lawnmower because I snapped the fastening nut on the blade of mine while trying to remove the dull blade. So, off to the repair shop goes the mower. On another note, I’ve decided to just throw money away for a while. Who needs it?

Tonight Sharaun gets paybacks for all the crappy shows I’ve dragged her to by making me accompany her to see N.E.R.D. and the Roots in San Fran. I’m not too terribly excited, but I am interested to see what a “hip hop” concert is like compared to the indie freak fests I’m used to. Hopefully we won’t get shot.

Dave out.


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