The Other End of Sunset

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Candles and Castellans. There and back again.

I'm lying on the floor. It’s carpeted. So it’s soft. Kinda.

I had acupressure on my back and hip flexors today. I'm not supposed to sit too much. So I moved clothes around the house – moved my stuff into JR’s closet. And now, I'm trying to force myself to blog a while.

It’s July 3rd, hereabouts. For those of you outside the US, there’s a holiday tomorrow. It celebrates the French helping us win a civil war against England.

Pop quiz: What’s the difference between a revolution and a civil war?

Answer: Who won.

History is written by the winner.

I went out for Cheap Chinese a while ago. There are people lined up along the road, getting ready for the local town parade tomorrow.

Technically, tomorrow is several hours away. What are you people waiting for?

I think it is weird enough to put chairs out, or whatever, to save a place for yourself. But, really, SITTING out there? Will they be there all night? Will there be the Alamo block party, filled with women with the same hair helmet and 2.3 children?

Very odd.

My Targus Chill Pad gave up the ghost. Really crimps my style.

So I'm lying on the floor, so that I don’t burn my lap. Additionally, it hopefully keeps my flexors from re-spasming.

I was watching Aeon Flux. OMG, it’s awful – and Charlize Theron is the star. That’s bad, man, when she can’t save it. Bailed out, and am now watching the classic – Magnificent Seven. It’s better.

I'm trying hard not to blog about death, or illness. Surely my muse will reappear, and I will be funny again. I'll re-obsess about hats, and epaulettes.

Until then, we’ll lie here and chat, what do you say?

I can’t believe that the World Cup has been so dominated by referees. Red cards everywhere. And I think that England got eliminated (indirectly) by a red card. I'm a rule follower, you know that, but I think that sporting events should be decided by players, not by referees.

It’s now July 4th, BTW. The parade is over. But there’s a big World Cup game on TV – Italy versus Germany.

I'm watching in High Definition TV. It’s SO much better than I had imagined. It’s quite cool. I'm using a Fujitsu plasma, connected to a Denon A/V receiver, carrying Comcast cable HD signal.

Don’t get me started on Comcast. But dude, the technology is AWESOME. (I also have a little Denon adapter for my iPOD that allows me to directly drive it’s content on screen here, no need for AirTunes. Cool!)

I could give you a real time blog on the score, but, really, what’s the point. I won’t get around to posting this for days, so who cares …

I was lucky enough to have a stunning beautiful girl sitting on my lap the other day. What she was doing with me, I have no idea. Anyway, back to my story. She complained about the size of my wallet, which I carry in my front pocket.

Hmm. Tricky, that one. I have to carry 3 different motorcycle registrations, 3 different insurance cards for said motorcycles, and that adds up. Additionally, there’s the various plastic detritus that fills a wallet – driver’s license, credit cards, debit cards, gym card, etc. It adds up. What should I do with it?

My best friend insouciantly pointed out that she carries two wallets.

Oh. I never thought of that.

On our last trip to Las Vegas, JR told me that it was hip for girls to carry money clips. OK, whatever. But apparently, she thought the ultimate cool was for a woman to carry her MAN’S money clip. So I went looking for one. I found one I liked (at Tiffany’s if you must know), bought it, carried it for a day or so, and then gave it to her. I reclaimed it after she died. (Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t talk about death.)

Anyway, after my friend suggested carrying two wallets, I got that clip back out and I'm going to try it. We’ll see.

Hey, while I'm talking about friends, some context. I hear I have a new reader – the best friend of a friend of mine. Apparently I made you cry. Sorry. Welcome.

And a couple of you have noticed that I have two best friends. That is true. The verbal oddity notwithstanding, I do have two. My oldest friend lives in LA. He’s awesome. He is smarter than me. He’s funnier than me, and I trust his offhand opinions more than I trust most people’s formal arguments. He’s just that much of a rock star. If I were twice as good a person as I am, I might be comparable to hjp. Hjp tells me when I'm being an idiot, and yet, somehow thinks I have something to add to the conversation. Odd, that.

My “other” best friend is who I hang out with in Phoenix. She’s a she. No, not THAT kind of friend! She’s the kind of friend who points out the hot women to me. Of course, they then pick HER up. But anyway, we have fun. She tells me that men cry, even when I think that I shouldn’t, and laughs at my insecurities. In a nice way, of course. JR loved her. Loved having her around. They were a funny pair, but it seemed to work for both of them.

Anyway, for those of you who have been confused about the fact that my best friend’s gender keeps changing, now you know the truth.

I’ve been going to mass a lot lately. You can light a candle for anyone – and I have several people who need candles lately. It’s just a $1 donation, and the matches are right there. Perhaps the best dollar spent ever.

My friends are scattered all over hell and gone. I am thinking about people in LA, in Phoenix, in SF, and (temporarily) in Europe. Not to mention people who aren’t here anymore. I shall light candles for you all; for those of you I haven’t seen, I miss you. Buy yourself something nice that makes me think of you, or makes you think of me, or makes you think of a good lifetime moment. Whatever.

Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter’s wives
Don’t know how it all got started
I don’t know what they do with their lives.

But me, I'm still on the road
Headed for another joint.
We always did feel the same,
We just started from a different point of view…
--Bob Dylan

I am headed to the Southwest to ride my Saxon and generally enjoy the sun, and the desert, and being alive. And perhaps to grow my point of view.

Peace.

1 Comments:

  • Boys may not cry, but real men weep...

    Hang in there. The pain never goes away, it just turns into strength and wisdom.

    SM

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:30 AM  

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