A few days ago my dad asked if he could read my book, and it was one of those George Costanza two-worlds-collide moments. I guess I’ll send him a copy, but feel uneasy about it. Ya know? I can’t allow my parents and family into the Surf Report realm, or there might be a rip in the universe, or something.
And I was informed last night, by my brother, that an aunt ordered a copy through Amazon. My parents and an aunt! This is starting to get away from me… I was always the weirdo, anyway. But wait until they get to all that “white and cold!” stuff. They’ll probably stage an intervention.
Stupid Facebook… It’s making all my worlds clang together. And I can’t have that.
Speaking of the book, I’ll repeat yesterday’s request… If you ordered a signed copy, please send an email to email@example.com and tell me how you’d like it personalized, and also confirm your mailing address. I don’t use that mailbox very often, so it’ll be easy to organize.
I’ll start sending out books later this week, and if I don’t have specific direction from you, I’ll just sign it without a personalization. I’d rather not use the PayPal account name, ‘cause that’s often overly formal or flat-out wrong.
I appreciate your cooperation with this. I’m trying to make sure it’s done to everyone’s satisfaction. So, thanks!
You know a trendy phrase that bothers me greatly? Bucket list. A woman who looked like the puppet Madame sat down beside me at the concert on Friday, and immediately started talking. She told me that ‘seeing Elton John’ is on her bucket list. And I said something along the lines of “I couldn’t give a tiny seahorse-shaped shitlet” and turned my back on her.
OK, I wasn’t quite that rude, but I wasn’t exactly overflowing with warmth either. Her nose and chin were nearly touching in front of her mouth, and she also said bucket list. Two strikes. Five years ago nobody used that phrase, but now they hear all their friends doing it, and think they’d better get in on the act. All aboard the douche train!
But I started thinking about it… I might not know the exact definition of that idiotic term, but I think it’s stuff you want to do before you kick the bucket. Right? Did it come from a movie, with a bunch of old guys in it? Possibly Jack Nicholson? I could be way off, and am perfectly fine with that scenario.
Anyway, I don’t think I have a long list at this point, bucket or otherwise. I’d like to travel some more, especially in Europe, and I’d like to live in the south again someday, maybe Atlanta or the South Carolina beaches. So, you see, it’s all ambiguous stuff. The specific items have been crossed-off.
I always wanted to live in New York City, but it would’ve been better when I was younger and crazier. And in my ambiguous Atlanta dream, I like the idea of buying a condo in a high rise, in Buckhead. I’ve never lived like that, and think it would be right up my alley. No yard to mow… a building super to take care of plumbing problems… a balcony in the sky… Yes, I like the thought of all that.
But I don’t have anything specific that I consider a must-do before the big sleep. Maybe a trip to Wrigley Field? I’d certainly like to do that, but it’s not an obsession or anything. I’ve already seen nearly every music artist I care about… What about you? Please tell us about the items on your list (let’s just call it a ‘list’), in the comments section below.
And I’ll be back tomorrow, I hope. For some reason Wednesdays are becoming a problem for me. I think I’ve missed a bunch of them recently. It can’t be easily explained… But I’ll do my best to avoid that problem tomorrow.
Have a great day, boys and girls.
See ya again soon.