The other day, driving to work, I saw some kids on their way to high-school. Windows down, rap music blaring, and smoke billowing out both sides of the car. We were stopped in traffic at the time, and the passenger chose this is as the right moment to clear the cashed bowl they had been puffing on. He craned his head out the window, put his mouth to the ceramic pipe, and blew out the ash. Man, we were never that brazen… smoke weed before school? Nope. After school, sure; in the car, sure. It was just funny, he looked right at me (as I was right beside them in traffic) as he cleared the bowl… not a care in the world. I shoulda got the plates and narc’d on ’em, but nah… I lived in that world once… maybe not quite as extreme… but still. Intro paragraph over.
Friday night (Saturday morning, whatever), moderately drunk – so much so that my fingers are stubborn on the keyboard. Not wanting to stretch to the right letters, skipping words in hopes my brain won’t notice. Seriously, if you could see the type-to-backspace ratio for that last sentence, you’d know what I’m talking about. The 90 Day Men are playing in Winamp… I hated them at first, mocked the singer’s “singing,” but now I love them – the music is amazing, the tone is something altogether new and interesting. Get the album, even if you hate it – you’ll be better for it. Anyway, the night started off at the new brewery/restaurant here in town. Two-hour wait for dinner, all two hours of which was spent sampling beer. Dinner, more beer. Afterward, the crew reassembles at my place to take care of the leftover leftovers from last weekend’s Halloween bash. Everyone leaves and it’s 1am, and I decide to drink some water and write. I’m not staying up much longer, my fingers are lazy like they’re waking-up cold and have gone long unused – and my mind is muddled with beer. Just long enough to put this 90 Day Men album on my MSI flash MP3 player – then I hit the sack with the album in my ears. In fact, this is it; I am done; goodnight until I pick up this entry again, no doubt on Sunday night.
Saturday morning, and the day started out ambitious enough. Slept in late and then decided to hit the backyard and finish cutting stones for the porch. Put on the work-clothes and fired up the saw, cut three bricks and placed them, pushed the trigger on the saw for the next batch of bricks – and nothing. Checked the outlet, checked the breaker – nothing. Owell, I figure it was the yard’s way of telling me that I wasn’t meant to work today. Instead, I was meant to sit here, on the couch, watching old episodes of the Twilight Zone and working on webpages. I’ve decided I’ll heed the signs, and do my best to do nothing.
Oh man, I went a little crazy with Sharaun gone and smoked my pipe in the house all day. Then I came in the house yesterday after a nice dinner at Erik and Kristi’s, only to realize that the place reeked of stale pipe tobacco. Slept last night with all the windows open and the fans on, in an attempt to air the place out. And as a final precaution this morning before heading out to pick her up at the airport, hit the place with some air freshener and Febreze. I musta done a good job, ’cause she didn’t say anything when she walked in the door. I even tried some crafty pre-excuse about the cat taking an exceptionally pungent dump or something. Ahh… freedom… to smoke my pipe on the couch, to eat spaghetti two nights in a row, to have a floor free of cast-off clothes and junk. I’m glad my wife’s back.
So, to recap: go get the 90 Day Men album, and while you’re there pick up the Go! Team album. Then, when your friends hear songs on the OC and latest WB shows that they remember hearing in your car months earlier – there will be no recourse but for them to acknowledge your psychic taste in music. Dave out.
Also written on this day...
- backroads bob - 2018
- who are you guys? - 2007
- rampant breeding and sheer luck - 2006
- where are the teeth? - 2005