What Are Your Summer Travel Plans?

Last week, when we went to Cooper’s for obscure international beers, I had two CDs in my car:  The Promise by Bruce Springsteen, and Singles: 45s and Under by Squeeze.  And both have now disappeared.

That kind of thing has the power to make me fully crazy…  I’ve practically removed the seats from my car, lifted the carpet in the trunk, and emptied the glove compartment and console.  And I’ve gone over this house like freakin’ Peter Chicklets in The Shield.  The discs are nowhere to be found.

What the hell, man?  There was a lot of chaos at that time, and I might have come in and sat the CDs down in an unusual place.  But I don’t see how they could’ve been lost outside the house.  I carry them to the car, and back; I’m fairly anal about it.

Enough time has now passed that I’m starting to believe I’ll never see ’em again.  And that cuts me — deep.  I have a feeling they were mixed up in a pile of newspapers, and went out with the recycling.  Bastards!  That Springsteen CD was brand new… I just bought it.

I blame the ungrateful interlopers.  They threw our world into disarray, and I wasn’t able to maintain the various rituals that protect me against such scenarios.  I do things in a certain way, every time.  So I always know where my shit is.  I almost never lose stuff.


Somewhere along the line
I signed up for a service called Twitter Qwitter.  It’s a freebie, and they periodically email me a list of people who have stopped following me at Twitter.  And I think I’m going to dump it, because it always pisses me off.

Today I received an email from them, and there was a friend listed.  An internet friend, anyway…  Why’d he stop following me?  I know I’m not the greatest Twitter practitioner on Earth, but to cut me loose, completely?  I think that’s kinda harsh.

Yeah, I know… A person who lived through the Great Depression and/or World War II might roll their eyes at my “problems.”  But I don’t care, I’m all whipped-up over here.

On a more pleasant note, the owner of Atomic Books in Baltimore has issued a challenge to us old-school zine editors to publish one new issue (at least) of our publications in 2011.  He’s calling it Revenge of Print, and folks are pledging to publish, at the Facebook page.

There are a lot of heavy-hitters on the list already, and I’m considering taking the plunge.  I have a full docket for the year, but I’d like to be a part of it.  I’m probably going to do it.

Here’s an interview my friend Mark did with the founder of this challenge/movement, and he actually mentions the Surf Report.  I’m flattered that my goofy little magazine is remembered by a few folks.  I might have to dig out the old long-arm stapler and return to my Xerox roots.  It could be a lot of fun.

We’re in the midst of planning a summer trip to Myrtle Beach.  Because of cash-flow issues, we haven’t done a damn thing for the past couple of summers, but we’re going to the beach — a Southern touristy beach — this year.  I think we’re going to make the reservations this coming weekend.

I used to be snobby about Myrtle Beach, but now I appreciate its over-the-topness.  It’s just unapologetically tourist-oriented, and every day is a redneck party.  Fireworks are legal, everybody’s drinkin’, and the ocean is right there.  It’s very therapeutic to go down there and unleash my inner-hick for a week or so.

I’m looking forward to it.  It’s no London trip… but we’re taking baby steps here.  Tiny baby steps.

Do you have any trips planned for the summer?  Now that the holidays are over, it’s time to start planning such things.  If you have anything in the works, please tell us about it.

And I’m gonna call it day, my friends.  Thanks for reading!

More tomorrow.

Now playing in the bunker

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So, who is this guy?

Thanks for stopping by! My name is Jeff Kay, I was born while JFK was president, and it's all very embarrassing and corny. Today I'm a suburban husband and father, who is sometimes accused of being a bit tightly-wound. The West Virginia Surf Report! is my creative outlet, and insurance policy against completely losing my shit. I hope you'll stick around and participate in the lively community of geniuses and curmudgeons who hang out here every day. I love a full 87% of them! And while you're at it, please follow me at Twitter and Facebook.

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