1. “What would men be without women? Scarce, sir. Mighty scarce.” -Mark Twain
2. Instead of “Thoughts Headed Into the Weekend” I’ve decided to begin issuing “Thoughts Headed Into the Week,” starting today. I hope and trust this won’t ruin anyone’s Friday. Or Monday.
3. I once had this roommate — a male — that sat down to pee, and I used to think it was weird. Was it?
4. I realized the other day just how many folks’ names are in Paul Simon songs. I mean, without even reviewing his catalog I already know he’s got songs featuring a Julio, a Cecilia, a Betty and Al, not to mention “50 Ways to Leave your Lover,” which names a Jack, Stan, Roy, Gus, and Lee.
When I brought this up to Lindsey she didn’t think it was that interesting at all, claiming that anyone whose repertoire is so big is gonna have his share of names. I dunno, though, it still seems like a lot to me.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s no Lou Vega.
5. Who lights the wood fire at Cracker Barrel? Is it some lowly dishwasher/busboy that gets there earlier than everyone else? Or is lighting it a rite of passage, performed by some senior member of the kitchen crew who’s spent years clawing their way up the ranks? I like to think it’s the latter but surely it’s the former, right?
Also, try saying Cracker Barrel five times fast without sounding like a total idiot. Cracker Barrel, Crackle Barrel, Crackle Bearer, Quackel Bell, Quacker Bearwhale. Nailed it!
6. I’m starting to think I stopped composing new music because I quit listening to new music, in the same way I stopped writing ’cause I quit reading. I want to change all that.
So if there’s one record released in the last ten years that I should hear, what is it? Likewise, what book? Please let me know so I can get started. The sooner I begin recording my Sgt. Pepper’s and writing the next great American novel, the better, thanks.
7. I showed Mom the house I’m buying. The bank approves, the home inspector approves, and now Mom approves. I guess now I just need God to approve, and according to my elderly sweet-as-pie would-be neighbors (whom I met yesterday), if it’s “God’s will” for me to have it, I’ll have it. Let’s just hope the creek don’t rise.
8. By the end of 2013 I will be 35 years old. And since there’s no way in hell I’ll live to be older than 71 I’m considering this my hump year.
9. Speaking of old age, I played soccer yesterday with a buddy of mine whose team needs some more players. I was brought in to bolster the offense. I was out of shape, out of sync, and out of rhythm. I even fell down three times and I’m a grown man, for Christ’s sake.
If it was a tryout, I’m guessing they won’t be calling me next week.
10. A funny exchange between Lindsey, me, and my ass:
Lindsey: What’d you say?
Me: Nothing. I farted.
Laughter ensues. End scene.
After years of blogging I guess I’ve gotten better at talking out of my ass than I realized.
11. I was walking through the restaurant yesterday when I overheard a bar customer asking her friend, “I mean, is it normal to just wake up with a black guy?” Upon another pass I noticed a dark purple bruise under her right eye., and suddenly everything made sense.
Have a good week,