Saturday, February 05, 2005

Inazo Nitobe…

I was watching Freaks And Geeks via Netflix and decided to have a cigarette in the front yard and brought the newspaper with me. I’m like this when I eat also. I can’t just sit there if I’m by myself. I need to look at something or else I feel like I’m wasting my time. My health? Blah. Time? Ooohhh, so precious

Anyway. Was sitting on a step and reading about ABC and the NEW Mighty Morphin Power Rangers from the calender section of The Los Angeles Times when a car from down the street made a really stupid turn. The car stopped in the middle of my street. I just sat there and stared at them. Then people yelled out my name, so I didn’t have to kill anybody. It was two guys that I work with and a couple of their girls. I walked into the middle of the street and said hey. They either saw me sitting there while driving by and saw me looking like a dork at two o clock in the morning or were going to cruise by my house to see what I was doing anyway – I wouldn’t know and didn't get time to ask because a car started coming in my direction from the opposite end of the street and I needed to stop standing in the middle of it. So, I said later and told the guys that I worked with to remember about poker tomorrow day. They drove away. I walked back inside my house.

The funny thing is that the guys that I work with are 20 years old. 20. I’m far away from that. It’s no big deal. Trust me, I don’t age. When I look in the mirror I look at a guy who looks like he’s in his mid-twenties but fell down a cliff full of heroin needles and baseball bats sticking out of it. I am Peter Pan. I am trapped in time. This is because my mind is always in a constant state of retardation or it must’ve atrophied way beyond all hope of re-growth years ago. I usually forget how old I am – I don’t ever think about it except when I move my legs, bend or stretch. Funny to think though, that I have friends that I hang out with that aren’t even of legal drinking age and my oldest friend that I hang out with is in his eighties.

This means something cool, I think – but doesn’t make you feel too cool when it’s Friday night/Saturday morning at 2 AM and the young one's are out getting back from partying and you’re in the front of your house reading the newspaper OR maybe this means that I was always doing this kind of thing in combination with going out at all hours of the morning. I do still go crazy - just not as much.

Maybe this just means that I felt like a schmuck because I had the bad timing of being out by myself in the front yard when a carload of giggling Unicorns drove by.

Maybe this means that I am the bridge between all generations. Yeah! Maybe I’m like Mr. Rogers. Appealing to the awe-struck young and nostalgiac old.

Or maybe this means that I am very, very GAY.

Goodnight, self.

Goodnight non-spellcheck.

And also, goodnight to my friend that is in his eighties, because I know for a fact that he went to sleep at least six hours ago.

Time for another cigarette.

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