Random Thoughts: The Plagiarism

The good thing about having an editor is that you can steal their stuff and they don't get pissed off about it. They just chalk it up to artistic strangeness, thank the literary gods that the column showed up on time for once, and edit politely. So when Darth Kel posted a couple of "Random Thoughts" columns on her blog, the little hamster wheel in my skull began to move. Perhaps I could steal the idea, er "pay homage" to my dear editor, manage to make a rare deadline, and keep my very own Annie Wilkes, Kate, from kidnapping me, chopping off my legs, and forcing me to write columns on an old manual typewriter for her private pleasure.

But I digress... Random Thoughts, eh? Right. That's pretty much my life in a nutshell. Random Thoughts.

• Why is it that cheerleaders are ALWAYS cheerleading? Little kid cheerleaders, high school cheerleaders, or college cheerleaders. They're easy to pick out. They stand in places like the grocery store staring blankly at the creamed corn and run through the hand motions, silently mouthing the words, looking like a person afflicted with some sort of twitchy muscle disease. That or a person who really, really loves creamed corn. It's just odd. You never see the star high school running back take out the old guy on aisle 4 with a flying tackle...
• Guinness in the bottle is not nearly as good as Guinness on tap, but Guinness of any kind is a damn sight better than Budweiser in any form...
• Alton Brown is making polenta right now on Food TV. I've never made polenta. I smell a cooking experimentation night on the horizon. My poor wife...
• Where is Nantucket and why do all the filthy limericks involve people from there?
• The new season of Six Feet Under is back on HBO. Praise be to all that is good and wonderful. My TV is fun again.
• Bob Dylan's doing the Amazon.com tenth anniversary free webcast show. It takes a little of the pain out of missing he and Willie Nelson at Greer Stadium later this much, but not much of it...
• I feel like a curmudgeon now. I remember the day Amazon.com opened its doors. They only sold books and no one thought they'd last a year. I remember not long after they opened up, they started giving away ten 56k modems (bleeding edge tech back then) a day to random people just for visiting their site. I won one of them but my crappy phone lines still connected at 28.8k. That was heartbreaking.
• God I miss the early days of the internet. I got so much free crap from people who practically gave their stores away just to convince people to try "E-Commerce". Course, they're all bankrupt now, but I still have the stuff.
• If Darth Kel ever makes it back to Nashville, she damn well better come visit me. She hasn't seen me since I got married and I miss her black-armor clad air of menace (but friendly menace...)
• I got the Looney Tunes Golden Collection Volume 2 this week as a gift from my wonderful wife. I love The Simpsons, South Park, Family Guy, etc. but Tex Avery, Chuck Jones, and the Warner Brothers crew still hold the title for the greatest cartoon series ever, hands down. I've been watching these things since I was old enough to get TV and they still make me laugh.
  

Well, it's late and the wife is giving me THE LOOK which usually means if I don't come to bed soon, I'll be bedding down in the recliner. So that's all folks.

-Gryph

"This song is just six words long, this song is just six words long..."
-Al Yankovic

NP: Los Lonely Boys: S/T

When I'm Sixty-Four

When did I get old?

Shouldn't there be a warning of some sort? An alarm, a flashing light, a nice postcard from God saying "Dear Gryph, you are now getting long in the tooth, Love God"? Something. Instead it just creeps up on you until one day you discover that the world is moving and you are not. It seems like you go to bed one night a member of the "cool" culture and wake up the next day not understanding a damn thing kids say and wondering what the hell that noise is and how they can get away with calling it music?"

I've known I was getting old for a couple of years, since I hit 30. But I didn't realize I'd officially gotten old until earlier this week.

For any of you who live in the middle Tennessee area, you can't help but know it's once again time for Bonnaroo, the three day Woodstock-esque festival on a farm in Manchester. It's been going on for a couple of years now and I've always kind of wanted to go, but there's never been a band on there that I loved enough to brave the traffic headaches... until this year.

This year I browse the Bonnaroo lineup only to discover that one of my favorite artists of all time, John Prine, is playing. I don't miss John Prine shows. I've seen Prine three times in three different states. So having him about thirty miles away is a dream come true, right?

You'd think...

In my younger days, I spent an unthinkable amount of my income on concerts. I averaged 5-8 shows a year at the big venue, Starwood Amphitheater, and about one every two weeks at clubs and bars around Nashville. If I was bored one night, I'd scrape up some change, jump in my car, and head for Nashville. I'd go see bands I'd never heard of, as long as they seemed to be somewhere in the vicinity of the genre I listened to. I braved ice storms, flood warnings, tornado warnings, torrential downpours at outdoor venues, and really bad bar food to get my concert fix.

So a three day show with several bands I like, headlined by my idol, is a no-brainer, right? Well, it would be, except for that little part about being old.

Where I used to be perfectly willing to brave the elements and eat Ramen for a week to get to a good show. It wouldn't even have been a question. So why was my mind now coming up with every excuse I could think of to not make this one?

Well, I told myself, I really shouldn't take another three days off work so soon after taking a week for my honeymoon. And I've got reports due on Monday that I really should stay and work on. And the van needs brakes too. And an oil change. Oh, and didn't we dip into the emergency fund to fix that transmission? Better replace that. Where would I get camping supplies at this late date? Do we have enough to cover rent if I go to this show. And I have to take Joan along. Can't leave the wife behind. That's a second ticket. Ooooh, and food too. That's always high at these things. And my back has been kicking up something awful the last couple of weeks. Sleeping on the ground can't be good for that......

STOP!!!!

That's when I realized it. I'd turned into my father. My father who has been to one concert in the last two decades (Elton John, his favorite artist). The guy who always said "those things are really expensive." The guy who always talked about his bills and having to take the wife along and how booth food never agrees with him.

I'm my dad. Not necessarily a bad thing, my dad's pretty cool for an old guy. But there's the rub. I'm not ready to be "pretty cool for an old guy". I'm not ready to be anything for an old guy. I'm not ready to BE an old guy. How did this happen?

So that's it. I'm old. No trip to Bonnaroo for me. No John Prine concert. No three days of rock and roll. I'll have a Metamucil on the rocks. And make it a double.

-Gryph

"I don't believe in dying. It's been done. I'm working on a new exit. Besides, I can't die now - I'm booked."
-George Burns

NP: John Prine: Fair and Square