The computer stared blankly back at me. I wondered for a moment if it saw the bags under my eyes. If it could smell my arm pits after I hadn’t showered in three days. Did it care that my teeth are yellow, not even close to the “toilet paper test” that the TV commercial tells me to do.
Then, I look at the web cam and wonder if someone in Bulgaria is looking at me, looking at the computer.
My son, 3 years old and so full of life, wakes me from my stupor by asking “Can this go in this?”
I look up and see him holding one of my fiancée’s tampons in one hand, and a beat up VHS copy of “The Wild Life” in the other. The me of seven years ago or so would have leaped toward the little blonde-haired maniac and snatched it from him.
“That’s worth a lot!” I would have thought.
Now, I know it’s a shitty copy of a decent movie that I could download off the internet for free.
I go back to the computer after explaining that a tampon certainly can go inside a VHS tape, “If you want to.”
The words are in my mind. I’m certain of that. That just don’t want to come out. Or, I’m too scared to let them come out. It’s always been a silly battle of the mind.
Now, I stare up at the girl at the beach painting on my wall. It’s the same one that John Tuturro looked up at during “Barton Fink”, except that mine was painted by someone in China, then shipped to me for $20. Something my good buddy Josh helped me out with. Sparked from a barstool conversation about a friend he had that was selling paintings done by a bunch of artists in China.
I miss barstool conversations. They were always my source of inspiration.
But also a crutch.
It’s one of those things about getting old. Realizing that all those minutes and all those dollars spent in bars really weren’t the answer.
Just a distraction.
Jimmy Kimmel is pretty good at it all. He’s probably worth 100s of millions now.
I start to wonder how much money Pherrell made with the song “Happy”. One song. Many dollars.
I hear the words Harvey Weinstein.
But we have Donald Trump as president.
Is that all there is? Distraction from realizing that one day, worms.
Guns and Roses. I saw them at the Capital Centre.
Still haven’t seen Bruce Springsteen. I had tickets. For my birthday. He cancelled due to North Carolina being North Carolina.
Four times I’ve had Social Distortion tickets. Three times, Mike Ness cancelled on me. The last time? I cancelled on him. He still got paid every time, though.
Popcorn in my teeth. Feathers on the couch. Leaves and acorns in the yard. Bugs eating my skull.
Velcro wallets still. Yeah, I don’t need leather.
Sprinklers. Why don’t you see kids running in them anymore. I watched my son do it the last two summers. He finally broke it this summer. I wonder if he’ll ever run through one again? I hope so. I guess it’s up to me to go buy a new one. Do they still sell them in stores? Or will I have to feed the Amazon beast? Kill another small-town business.
Capitalize on capitalism.
MySpace surveys are a goldmine for stealing your credit. Go delete your glitter. I wonder what happens to a webpage when it goes away? Is there heaven for GeoCities?
Harry Dean Stanton is dead. So is Abe Vigoda. I don’t know about Bea Arthur. Guess I could Google it. But what’s the reason? I’d rather just ponder it for a long while and then either give up, or bump into her outside. Ah, yes, outside. Do you go outside for a reason other than work, food, going to see family/friends. How about just to be outside. Breathe the air.
I wonder what Vince Neil is doing at this moment? Probably not writing songs. What about David Lee Roth? Probably wondering how Gene Simmons can look at his hair and not laugh. What happens to people that make them want to do such things. I went to Super Cuts to get my hair cut for years. At the end of my hair days, I kept asking them to not give me a combover. Most listened.
The last one didn’t.
“I didn’t want a combover,” I said to the woman.
“Honey, you can’t really tell,” she replied.
“Ma’am, turn on that blow drier,” I said.
She looked at me and smiled.
I started shaving my head soon after. My old buddy John did it for me the first time. I have done it every time since.