A few minutes after I hoisted myself off the platform this morning, Toney called and said I had a few “assignments.” And these included picking up the oldest Secret and taking him to his orthodontist appointment.
Why so many office visits? Seriously. It feels like I’m carting him over there every Thursday afternoon. Is it really necessary to stare down his Eggo hole two or three times per month? What in the candy-striped hell is going on here?!
But I do as I’m told, and drove out to the middle school at the prescribed time. The office chick reluctantly buzzed me in, and I was handed a clipboard. I checked the early-out box, wrote my son’s name, put “teef” as the reason, and handed it back to her. She looked at it, then at me (in my Magnolia Thunderpussy shirt), and said I could have a seat. Just as humorless as a severed spine.
Some seventh grader, or whatever, came clomping in and sat down beside me. Nobody asked why he was there, and he didn’t volunteer any information. He looked uncoordinated and clunky, even sitting in a chair. And he smelled like Frito’s.
Then a woman arrived and said, “Hi, I’m supposed to drop these off?” and produced a large trash bag apparently filled (filled!) with used shoes. TF?
The Secret and I drove over to the dentist’s office, I put his name on the list, sighed, and flopped-down again. Man, I hate that crooked-teeth holding pen… Here’s a picture of their “arcade,” which captures a little of the excitement.
Every kid in the place was text-messaging, with a smirk on his/her face like Dick Cheney. A girl wearing about 500 bracelets was two seats away from me, and had a voice so deep and gravelly I thought my Dad was talking for a few seconds. She was twelve or thirteen years old and sounded like a male fire fighter, retired. Maybe she had to have her voicebox rebuilt, or something? I just don’t know.
They finally called my kid to the inner sanctum, and added him to the Big Conveyor Belt o’ Toofahs. And it took forever. He was gone for 45 minutes, at least. Fully excruciating… The whole time he was in there the sixth grade girl who sounds like Wilford Brimley bitched and complained about her “crappy” Nextel cell phone. The poor thing.
When he was finished, I handed over a sizable monthly payment and we got the hell out of that terrible place.
I wanted to walk down the way, to the world’s last hipster record store. If they had the new Eels CD for less than $11.99 I was going to buy it, I proclaimed. And they barely made the cut: $11.97. We were the only people in the shop, but the clerk was still surly and acted like we were putting him out.
And now I’m preparing to drive the younger Secret to swim practice, the older one to a friend’s house, and that’s as far in advance as my brain will allow… I’m sure there’s more, but I’ll have to complete another task before anything else will load.
Pass the beer nuts.
I think I’ve revived my Netflix subscription. It was in ICU, hooked up to a lung-blower, for a long time. But I’ve switched back to TV shows, and everything’s better now.
I re-watched the first season of King of the Hill, and I’m preparing for the latest season of 24. Then I’m thinking about starting on Prison Break. The boys wanted me to rent that Mall Cop crapola, so they’re getting some use from it, too.
It’s the movies that don’t work for me… It’s obvious now. If I rent TV shows the discs keep moving. But movies gum up the works.
I was very close to canceling my subscription. I’m glad I gave it one last shot.
Yesterday I linked to this guest-article, through WVSR Classic. And since it made me laugh, and I thought it was extra-good, I’m linking to it again.
You’ve GOTTA check out the latest mockable. Metten’s doing a great job with the animated shorts, and the new one kicks ass. Also, please leave a comment if you’re so inclined. We’re feeling a little lonely over there…
And my friend Bill told me about a site dedicated to a legendary swimming pool we used to visit as younglings. Right here. Check out the big pic from 1940, it’s fairly mind-blowing. The place was called Rock Lake, and they had a long-ass slide, a trapeze, a paddlewheel, and all manner of ridiculousness. I remember people jumping off the cliffs that lined two sides of the pool, and thinking they were completely insane.
It was a blast, a great place And, of course, long-gone… <sniff>
What’s the absolute coolest swimming pool you’ve ever visited? What is your own personal Rock Lake? We need to know, it’s a matter of high urgency.
I have lots of other stuff I wanted to cover today, but everything’s jacked-up. I’ll have to get to it next time.
I am going to restart the weekly recap emails next week, so if you’re not subscribed to the mailing list, now’s the time. Sign up today! There are many benefits, some we can talk about, and others we cannot.
I’ll leave you with now with a Question inspired by a recent conversation with Toney. We’d started re-watching Homicide: Life on the Street, one of our favorite TV series, but it just wasn’t doing it for us.
“It’s a winter show,” Toney said, as if it’s well-known. “You can’t watch Homicide in spring or summer.”
Huh. I’d never thought about it, but she’s probably right. It does have a bleak and dreary feel to it, that’s completely counter to hot summer nights, etc. So, we switched to The Sopranos — and it‘s hitting the spot.
So, in the comments I’d to know what other TV shows or movies you think only work when it’s cold and gray outside. And we can include music in this, as well… What music do you reach for on a rainy day?
Tell us about it, won’t you? And I’ll be back on Monday, at the latest.
See ya then!