Well, last night was a lot of fun -- I drove over to Grand Rapids to see some old friends who were in town to rock and/or roll. They did do some rocking and a touch of rolling and not a single hip was broken, which at their age is a bonus.
The great thing was just getting away and hanging out and talking with people over the age of seven. What a great thing! At no point did I have to tell any of them to put all four legs of their chair on the floor, I didn't have to wipe any boogers off their noses and I didn't even have to threaten them with no dessert if they didn't stop spazzing out. Well, one guy did have a booger in his nose, but I figured it was his problem, so I let it "hang."
We caught up on everyone's families and shit and it was all very 'old man' of us, but it was really great to just chat it up about whatever. It was funny, at one point, I started talking about how I spend most of my time in the basement working and how I've started making these chipboard notebooks to help recycle paper and shit and one of the guys paused and said, "So... you're like really losing your shit, huh?" So I realized that, to me, making those notebooks is my attempt to take on a little project, to do a bit of recycling and to just start thinking about different ways to be creative. BUTT, and here's the rub -- to the rest of the world, I'm a fucking freak. See, there's a fine line between thinking you're doing something cool and being a fucking insane, reclusive misanthrope.
Good to know.
After the show, around one o'clock, I began my hourlong trek back home. It was really dark and peaceful and I was cranking some tuneage in the car when I looked up and pretty much shat my panties. You know how, sometimes, the moon looks REALLY FUCKING BIG and it just freaks your shit out? Well, this moon was WAY BIGGER THAN THAT! I swear to fuck, I thought the thing was going to crash into the earth. It was freakish. I was already way tired, and I had consumed this nasty drink that was made for me that contained vodka, Red Bull and, I think, diarrhea, so I'm sure I wasn't necessarily responding rationally. I stopped short of phoning the old lady and saying "Goodbye forever," but man, what the shit?! As I continued driving, it got smaller -- which is pretty fucked up in and of itself, until it returned to normal moon-size by the time I got home.
I know there's some explanation for the phenomenon, and I think I actually knew what it was at one time, but I like to think it was all due to the freakish, collective mind-control power of redheads and twins. Maybe the albinos were in town and they were all whooping it up in the woods with the satyrs and the wood sprites.
Boy, am I tired.