It's my birthday, too. Yeah.
Big things going on tonight. Gipper's Sports Grill is hooking it up tonight and after 9pm all draft beers will be half price in honor of yours truly. I'm kind of a big deal in this town.
And since I'm old as dirt here's a little throw back to my youth for you all..
A timeless classic, really. Man, it was good to be in kindergarten. There's no better time in a man's life than when you're young enough for it to still be socially acceptable to pull your pants all the way to your ankles at a urinal. I may try that move one or twice during the course of the evening because, well, dammit it's MY DAY. Cheers (and see you all tonight at Gip's..).
O, a PS for you:
I had the pleasure of hearing Eric Carle speak at my college graduation a few years back. Tell me this guy isn't the man:
A spitting image of Burl Ives, isn't he?
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Addition by subtraction..
"The time has come," the blogger said, "to type from memory,
"Of New York City, Auburn nights, and Manchester, Tennessee.."
The hardest thing I've found about not blogging for so long is my struggle to incorporate old business that really deserves discussion while I try not to fall behind on current events. This past week alone I've been up well after 4am four out of seven nights (latest documented clock was 6:19am Friday evening/Saturday morning, jumped in a pool after 3am, drank 1000 beers (give or take a twelve pack..), hit up the Bruins' Stanley Cup Parade in Boston, bachelor partied for Jeffrey Sloat's upcoming nuptials , spotted Tim Thomas at Foxwoods and told him he was "the man" while forgetting to shake his hand (Yep, I didn't shake his hand. Liam shook his hand. I spotted him from afar and got all girly and wanted to take a picture while Liam threw out a handshake. Liam got the handshake. I got shot down by midget PR man. Still, I'd rather shoot for the moon. And my stand up to say "Tim Thomas!" put a nice, shit-eating grin on his face. Shaking a guy's hand sounded better on thefacebook than making a guy smile. So I lied. Sue me.), got back to the gym on two CONSECUTIVE days, and many many more goofy shit. AND THAT'S JUST ONE, rather average, WEEK.
I'd love love love to talk more about this past week and many weeks that have encompassed my leaving the 808 (doubtful this will ever happen..), my parents visiting the 808 (slightly more likely but still don't hold your breath..), my travels to San Fran (the post I wrote while in SF will likely have to do unless a tangent brings me back..) Burlington, New York, Boston (twice..), as well as more recent happenings in Greater L/A but first I must do my best to discuss the elephant that's been in the room since June 13, and likely well before since I had no preparatory lead-in...and that would be the Bonnaroo in Tennessee.
Yes, The Bonnaroo. THE Bonnaroo. And it will always be "The Bonnaroo," because The Boss Bruce Springsteen wouldn't stop calling it "The Bonnaroo" during his epic (to me..) three hour set two years ago at my first Bonnaroo. Besides the Boss and his E Street Band, I've never heard anyone else throw "the" in front of Bonnaroo. It's just "Bonnaroo." Plus, it reminds me of Adam Sandler's Goat skit off of What The Hell Happened To Me when the goat wants to head down to the ragu festival to do some mosh pitting. We encountered quite a few people down at the Bonnaroo who were not familiar with the Goat and his verbage. I thought everyone was familiar with Adam Sandler's early-ish works but I guess that's not the case. This actually proved mildly entertaining as J.Mac and I can crack ourselves up for hours with the same few jokes we tell every day and, for the people we hung out with at our tent, our material was entirely new and fresh and unlike anything they had ever heard before.
Not to get too distracted and off topic but a lot of nonsense gets talked when J.Mac and I roll together. He's turned me on to some of his old college clan's catchphrases and buzzwords, and I have done the same with the goofy shit we used to talk about back in the day in A-Town. AT THE SAME TIME, our more-or-less everyday debauchery in the 808 provided us with ample opportunity of goof-talk material. It's tough to describe in no other way than to say we've succeeded in setting Webster's English language back a couple few hundred years. It's a tight rope across a fine line and the line gets crossed many, many times a day but only in the name of fun and humor. A couple few years back, I think around the summer of 2009 I was told my life is, more or less, a walking "that's what she said.." joke. Most every sentence spoken, and oftentimes just a single word, can elicit a follow up goofy song lyric, movie quote, joke, story, you name it. And for me one of the better parts of my day is, well, just free flowing all of this shit that I think in my head. So, Noah, while you say you want to kick it this summer I must prepare you for things being decidedly worse than a couple of years ago. I hope you understand that I do it to entertain myself and others, not to bother you.
So, on to Bonnaroo. First time around was, for the most part, orchestrated to a T. Either Mr. Lawler or myself had quite a few bands we were passionate about and wanted to see and we made every effort to see as many acts as we could. And the music was awesome. Just, flat out, awesome. Even being completely worn out for the last two days due to a weeklong bender that traveled down the east coast, we never missed a show we had set our minds on seeing. And it was a blast. But the focus was on the music and the music alone.
Not that Mr. Lawler had planned a lot in advance, but things were certainly more haphazard in preparations for round two. Obviously some of this was simply due to the fact I had been before and knew, for the most part, what to expect, but at the same time this was much more of an impulse purchase than last time. There were many acts that caught my interest this time around but I had very little familiarity with most of them. Not having a car for my time in Hawaii didn't let me prepare in the same manner I did before, buying used CD's at Bull Moose to investigate newer acts. I had no car so I had no motivation to buy CD's. Pandora or any internet radio was never an option because we pirated wireless and our ground floor apartment had a swollen prostate or something so we could only produce a weak stream of "internet" with varying consistency. My iPod ALSO finally shit out on me sometime around March or so after close to six good years of service and, well, I just decided not to buy another one as it's not too bad to listen to the sounds of your surroundings. It seems my internal monologue entertains me now more than ever, and I'm ok with that.
But, damn it, again I'm stretching slightly off topic. What I'm trying to say is there were very few acts I went into feeling like I HAD to see. This time around was a much more take-things-as-they-come. And it worked out equally as well, though very, very different from the first go-round. Temperatures were HOT HOT HOT this time. Upper 90's every day with no cloud cover whatsoever. By the end of the week Centeroo (Bonnaroo proper, where the stages and tents and other goofy shit were located) was a virtual old west dust bowl. Last time is was middle 80's at most, clouds rolled through on the regular, and serious (SERIOUS. The hardest rain I've ever seen in my life was on I-24 headed east from Nashville to Manchester. Tornado warnings were all over the radio. I was going 25 on the highway with my wipers flailing and I couldn't see beyond the hood. And this is another aside...Can someone explain to me "past" and "passed" usage again. I can't figure it out for the life of me. Time passed, half past. I get that. But I'm almost never confident I use the correct one. Really grinds my gears. That's why I just used "beyond." I think I could use "past," but I'm just not sure...HELP!) rain fell Thursday morning and Thursday night, creating some mud pockets but eliminating dust. Dust had never crossed my mind as green grass was everywhere last time around. To put it mildly, the dust was miserable. My throat is still burning after being back home from a week (Some may say my body's got some sickness from the seven week bender I've been on that has continued well, let me get back to you tomorrow as chances are good I'll have a couple of pops somewhere...but I still blame the dust.
This may also be a good time to say I took no pictures last time. Everything I mention about 2009's Bonnaroo is just my [sometimes mis-]remembrances. I hope to stay accurate, but I'm really not sure. Memories come and go and twist and return sometimes. Should have taken better notes last time.
Sorry. It's nearing 3am and I must go to bed. What I plan to elaborate on further (and re-read this to correct grammatical mistakes.....) tomorrow...nah forget it I won't ruin it. Pretend your a single-digit kid and it's the night before your birthday and you didn't snoop for presents...nervous anticipation! Just listen to The Goat and laugh your ass off.
Cheers (and plenty more to come...and go back and re-read my Lewis Carroll twist. It's genius. A fine example of the reason YOU WANT ME ON THIS PAGE. YOU NEED ME ON THIS PAGE. And...scene.
Also just realized I had still been posting as of Hawaiian Standard Time. It was, in fact, the lug nut. And, yes. I fixed it.).
"Of New York City, Auburn nights, and Manchester, Tennessee.."
The hardest thing I've found about not blogging for so long is my struggle to incorporate old business that really deserves discussion while I try not to fall behind on current events. This past week alone I've been up well after 4am four out of seven nights (latest documented clock was 6:19am Friday evening/Saturday morning, jumped in a pool after 3am, drank 1000 beers (give or take a twelve pack..), hit up the Bruins' Stanley Cup Parade in Boston, bachelor partied for Jeffrey Sloat's upcoming nuptials , spotted Tim Thomas at Foxwoods and told him he was "the man" while forgetting to shake his hand (Yep, I didn't shake his hand. Liam shook his hand. I spotted him from afar and got all girly and wanted to take a picture while Liam threw out a handshake. Liam got the handshake. I got shot down by midget PR man. Still, I'd rather shoot for the moon. And my stand up to say "Tim Thomas!" put a nice, shit-eating grin on his face. Shaking a guy's hand sounded better on thefacebook than making a guy smile. So I lied. Sue me.), got back to the gym on two CONSECUTIVE days, and many many more goofy shit. AND THAT'S JUST ONE, rather average, WEEK.
I'd love love love to talk more about this past week and many weeks that have encompassed my leaving the 808 (doubtful this will ever happen..), my parents visiting the 808 (slightly more likely but still don't hold your breath..), my travels to San Fran (the post I wrote while in SF will likely have to do unless a tangent brings me back..) Burlington, New York, Boston (twice..), as well as more recent happenings in Greater L/A but first I must do my best to discuss the elephant that's been in the room since June 13, and likely well before since I had no preparatory lead-in...and that would be the Bonnaroo in Tennessee.
 |
| Main entrance early Friday afternoon, with the What stage in the background. Pretty crafty shot, eh? |
Not to get too distracted and off topic but a lot of nonsense gets talked when J.Mac and I roll together. He's turned me on to some of his old college clan's catchphrases and buzzwords, and I have done the same with the goofy shit we used to talk about back in the day in A-Town. AT THE SAME TIME, our more-or-less everyday debauchery in the 808 provided us with ample opportunity of goof-talk material. It's tough to describe in no other way than to say we've succeeded in setting Webster's English language back a couple few hundred years. It's a tight rope across a fine line and the line gets crossed many, many times a day but only in the name of fun and humor. A couple few years back, I think around the summer of 2009 I was told my life is, more or less, a walking "that's what she said.." joke. Most every sentence spoken, and oftentimes just a single word, can elicit a follow up goofy song lyric, movie quote, joke, story, you name it. And for me one of the better parts of my day is, well, just free flowing all of this shit that I think in my head. So, Noah, while you say you want to kick it this summer I must prepare you for things being decidedly worse than a couple of years ago. I hope you understand that I do it to entertain myself and others, not to bother you.
So, on to Bonnaroo. First time around was, for the most part, orchestrated to a T. Either Mr. Lawler or myself had quite a few bands we were passionate about and wanted to see and we made every effort to see as many acts as we could. And the music was awesome. Just, flat out, awesome. Even being completely worn out for the last two days due to a weeklong bender that traveled down the east coast, we never missed a show we had set our minds on seeing. And it was a blast. But the focus was on the music and the music alone.
Not that Mr. Lawler had planned a lot in advance, but things were certainly more haphazard in preparations for round two. Obviously some of this was simply due to the fact I had been before and knew, for the most part, what to expect, but at the same time this was much more of an impulse purchase than last time. There were many acts that caught my interest this time around but I had very little familiarity with most of them. Not having a car for my time in Hawaii didn't let me prepare in the same manner I did before, buying used CD's at Bull Moose to investigate newer acts. I had no car so I had no motivation to buy CD's. Pandora or any internet radio was never an option because we pirated wireless and our ground floor apartment had a swollen prostate or something so we could only produce a weak stream of "internet" with varying consistency. My iPod ALSO finally shit out on me sometime around March or so after close to six good years of service and, well, I just decided not to buy another one as it's not too bad to listen to the sounds of your surroundings. It seems my internal monologue entertains me now more than ever, and I'm ok with that.
But, damn it, again I'm stretching slightly off topic. What I'm trying to say is there were very few acts I went into feeling like I HAD to see. This time around was a much more take-things-as-they-come. And it worked out equally as well, though very, very different from the first go-round. Temperatures were HOT HOT HOT this time. Upper 90's every day with no cloud cover whatsoever. By the end of the week Centeroo (Bonnaroo proper, where the stages and tents and other goofy shit were located) was a virtual old west dust bowl. Last time is was middle 80's at most, clouds rolled through on the regular, and serious (SERIOUS. The hardest rain I've ever seen in my life was on I-24 headed east from Nashville to Manchester. Tornado warnings were all over the radio. I was going 25 on the highway with my wipers flailing and I couldn't see beyond the hood. And this is another aside...Can someone explain to me "past" and "passed" usage again. I can't figure it out for the life of me. Time passed, half past. I get that. But I'm almost never confident I use the correct one. Really grinds my gears. That's why I just used "beyond." I think I could use "past," but I'm just not sure...HELP!) rain fell Thursday morning and Thursday night, creating some mud pockets but eliminating dust. Dust had never crossed my mind as green grass was everywhere last time around. To put it mildly, the dust was miserable. My throat is still burning after being back home from a week (Some may say my body's got some sickness from the seven week bender I've been on that has continued well, let me get back to you tomorrow as chances are good I'll have a couple of pops somewhere...but I still blame the dust.
 |
| My Jesus Feets on Sunday afternoon. It's not mud. It's...crud.. |
 |
| Cold War Kids set on Sunday. But you could tell that through the...dust............. |
Sorry. It's nearing 3am and I must go to bed. What I plan to elaborate on further (and re-read this to correct grammatical mistakes.....) tomorrow...nah forget it I won't ruin it. Pretend your a single-digit kid and it's the night before your birthday and you didn't snoop for presents...nervous anticipation! Just listen to The Goat and laugh your ass off.
Cheers (and plenty more to come...and go back and re-read my Lewis Carroll twist. It's genius. A fine example of the reason YOU WANT ME ON THIS PAGE. YOU NEED ME ON THIS PAGE. And...scene.
Also just realized I had still been posting as of Hawaiian Standard Time. It was, in fact, the lug nut. And, yes. I fixed it.).
Thursday, June 16, 2011
O BABAY
Productive day? LOOKING THAT WAY.
Made it to bed before 2am? CHECK.
Up before 8am? CHECK.
Heading to the gym? CHECK.
Heading into the sunshine post-swolesession? CHECK.
Sippits in the sunshine? Yeah, most likely.
Thursday evening at Gipper's? I'D BE A FOOL NOT TO.
Boston for the weekend? SOUNDS LIKE FUN, EVEN FOR A small kine HOCKEY FAN.
So much for backing off of the bender...this is rapidly approaching two months. I'd say I'm getting too old for this but, hell, it's [Thursday], I ain't got no job, and I ain't got shit to do. Cheers.
Made it to bed before 2am? CHECK.
Up before 8am? CHECK.
Heading to the gym? CHECK.
Heading into the sunshine post-swolesession? CHECK.
Sippits in the sunshine? Yeah, most likely.
Thursday evening at Gipper's? I'D BE A FOOL NOT TO.
Boston for the weekend? SOUNDS LIKE FUN, EVEN FOR A small kine HOCKEY FAN.
So much for backing off of the bender...this is rapidly approaching two months. I'd say I'm getting too old for this but, hell, it's [Thursday], I ain't got no job, and I ain't got shit to do. Cheers.
Sweet T[N].
To begin:
Never toast bread for a sangwich, then not immediately eat the sangwich. It just tastes like you're eating stale, day old bread. I don't like stale, day old bread. If you like stale, day old bread I may have just handed you the secret to a happy life. Thank me later.
I set out with some delicious chicken salad to make a tasty dinner and it certainly was prepared by yours truly with love, the real key to making delicious meals. And, c'mon, toasted bread, ESPECIALLY marble rye toasted, is a perfect vessel for chicken salad consumption. Unfortunately, post-sangwich-making I got distracted and my chicken salad sangwich sat on its plate for quite some time and, upon my return, the bread was no longer warm and crispy but room temperature, rather dry, and somewhat chewy. To sum: my dinner was average at best this evening. Ho hum.
ANYWAYS I've been on quite a vacation these past three or so weeks. Today, as I sit in my home office I feel a weary, east coast traveler. I can say east coast because this past week I made it within a stone's throw of Atlanta and thus well below the line that bears Mason Dixon's name. In fact, I was behind the wheel when we passed into Maryland and I saw the "Mason Dixon Line" sign on whatever interstate we were on at the time and I felt pretty special. I don't remember ever seeing one of those signs before. Unfortunately it caught me by surprise and I was the only one awake at the time so no picture was able to be taken.
Let's call this foreshadowing. I need to get to sleep. I'm attempting to force myself back into a normal sleep schedule. I didn't realize it was 5am until Papa Skip called when he got up to make sure I'd be home with his car so he could go to work. Nothing says shenanigans like getting home after 5am on a Wednesday morning and saying, "Hi, parents." while they're readying for work. Good thing I'm on vacation for the rest of the week...Cheers (And more, much more to come. This I promise you, written in pen. Not pencil..).
Never toast bread for a sangwich, then not immediately eat the sangwich. It just tastes like you're eating stale, day old bread. I don't like stale, day old bread. If you like stale, day old bread I may have just handed you the secret to a happy life. Thank me later.
I set out with some delicious chicken salad to make a tasty dinner and it certainly was prepared by yours truly with love, the real key to making delicious meals. And, c'mon, toasted bread, ESPECIALLY marble rye toasted, is a perfect vessel for chicken salad consumption. Unfortunately, post-sangwich-making I got distracted and my chicken salad sangwich sat on its plate for quite some time and, upon my return, the bread was no longer warm and crispy but room temperature, rather dry, and somewhat chewy. To sum: my dinner was average at best this evening. Ho hum.
ANYWAYS I've been on quite a vacation these past three or so weeks. Today, as I sit in my home office I feel a weary, east coast traveler. I can say east coast because this past week I made it within a stone's throw of Atlanta and thus well below the line that bears Mason Dixon's name. In fact, I was behind the wheel when we passed into Maryland and I saw the "Mason Dixon Line" sign on whatever interstate we were on at the time and I felt pretty special. I don't remember ever seeing one of those signs before. Unfortunately it caught me by surprise and I was the only one awake at the time so no picture was able to be taken.
Let's call this foreshadowing. I need to get to sleep. I'm attempting to force myself back into a normal sleep schedule. I didn't realize it was 5am until Papa Skip called when he got up to make sure I'd be home with his car so he could go to work. Nothing says shenanigans like getting home after 5am on a Wednesday morning and saying, "Hi, parents." while they're readying for work. Good thing I'm on vacation for the rest of the week...Cheers (And more, much more to come. This I promise you, written in pen. Not pencil..).
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