Before we get started here, I have a strong recommendation for you guys. Amazon’s mp3 Deal of the Day is Sycamore Meadows by Butch Walker, which is a freaking masterpiece. And until midnight Seattle time (I presume) you can buy the entire album for just $2.99.
Do it! Do not hesitate. And don’t worry, I’d never heard of him, either… Rest assured, it’s nothing weird or experimental. It’s just straight-ahead pop/rock, done exceedingly well. The lyrics are great, there are plenty of laughs, and the songs will stick in your head until you feel like sawing the bitch off.
After I posted today’s mockable, I went to Moe’s for a Nerf football sized burrito, and sat near a local celebrity. People were doing double-takes in there, and bumping into each other, but nobody approached him. They allowed the guy to ingest his 60 cents-worth of ingredients for $8.00, just like everybody else.
One thing worth noting: the dude was startlingly effeminate. I mean, seriously. I don’t think he has any muscles in his wrists, whatsoever.
There’s a guy who works at that Moe’s, with tattoos all over his arms. He built my lunch today… On one of my previous visits an old lady eyed him suspiciously, and finally said, “Are you a musician, or an artist of some kind?”
For some reason I find that to be hilarious.
It reminded me of my grandmother (one of the best humans who’s ever lived), at our wedding party. Toney and I were married by a judge in Atlanta, and had a kick-ass party at Swissotel in the evening.
My grandmother was starting to lose her marbles by that point, and was walking through the lobby with my Dad. There was an Asian man dusting there, and she zeroed in on the guy.
Then, after a few beats, she said LOUDLY, “John, I don’t think he’s our nationality!”
She meant no harm, I never heard her say a negative word, she was just making a statement of fact. Of course, it probably didn’t need to be shouted, like a person trying to communicate with someone trapped inside a collapsed coalmine. But, still…
A bit of advice: don’t listen to the George Noory radio show during a swine flu scare. By the time I got home last night I was near tears, and breathing through my shirt.
At first I was rolling my eyes and making snide remarks. More people have probably died from hot water tank explosions over the past two weeks… But as the doom and gloom started piling up, the blood drained from my face.
Yeah, many of the conspiracy theories contradicted each other, and a few were completely ludicrous, but I started thinking, “what if?” Sometimes the kookery starts to take its toll…
I was listening to Clive Bull talk about the same subject a couple of days ago, and his callers kept turning it into a joke. Clive was trying to be serious, but the listeners weren’t playing along.
One guy said he’s not worried about swine flu, because he has “oinkment.” Heh. Same subject, different perspective.
Have you noticed the gmail spam filter being overzealous lately? I think something got cranked-up a notch, because half my legitimate messages are going directly to the shitcan.
I think I might write a letter to someone about it.
My Dad told me that a man and woman showed up at their door a few days ago, and said they used to live in their house during the 1970s. They wanted to know if it would be OK if they had a look around.
Apparently their story was true, because some of the neighbors knew ’em, but I wouldn’t have let them inside. No way, in hell. I’m too suspicious, and imagine worst-case scenarios as the default setting.
But I guess they had a good time with these people, and heard a lot of semi-interesting stories about them raising kids in the house, etc.
What do you think? Would you be so trusting? Also, have you ever had an opportunity to return to a house or apartment where you lived many years before? I haven’t, but I bet it would be surreal. Like bumping into an old girlfriend who is completely familiar, but basically a stranger.
If you have anything on this subject, let’s hear it.
Also, have you ever worked somewhere that ruined a product for you? Toney used to work at the Dessert Place in Atlanta (are they still around?), back during a previous lifetime, and said she couldn’t stand the smell or taste of cheesecake for a full decade.
What about you? Have you had jobs that ruined an old favorite? I’ve got nothing, I’m afraid.
Finally, what’s your favorite food served on a stick? I like Fudgesicles an awful lot, but will have to cast my vote for corndogs. Man, I can’t get enough of breaded wieners on a spike!
And that pretty much zeroes out the ol’ notebook, boys and girls. I’m calling it a week.
Have a great weekend! I’ll see you on Monday.