I’m buried at work and am having a hard time just reading all your posts out there, but wanted to pass along a few things…
A metric ton of thank you’s to a few folks:
- First, to my wife and daughter for tolerating my absence on Father’s Day. I was welcomed back with a thoughtful gift even though my solo testosterone filled weekend was certainly ample enough gift for a lifetime. Thanks gals, I love you both.
- To Jackson and the Legal Diva for once again letting me surf their couch and making a mess of their place. Living in NYC is a study in people to bathroom ratios and sharing space overall. Living here in the wide open South we tend to forget this. I’m going to have to simply insist, no DEMAND, that Jackson AND the Legal Diva make their way down to visit us this summer, or perhaps for a football game in the fall. That Legal Diva works WAY too hard and despite the fact that Jackson makes us all look bad by how well he supports his gal (the guy actually gets up in the early hours to make his women coffee before she heads out to the subway!), she DESERVES some bonafide vaca time. I hope the partners at her firm appreciate her as much as we do.
- Of course I have to thank the man who made the trip possible in the first place,
The Misanthrope himself, Dave Cavalier for his generosity and thoughtfulness. It was truly a memorable evening.
Jackson runs down the show accurately at his place, but equal to the shows grandeur was the company and conversation. The older I get, the less opportunity there is to sit around a bar table, drink beers, and talk endlessly about our shared love of music. With the right group of people it never gets tiring. It was very cool to also meet blogger Hazmat in person. Dave, put the Lass in the co-pilot seat of that plane and make the trip down sometime. We’ll have to find a suitable show here in Atlanta for the impetus. Impressive also was the fact that I'm pretty sure I was responsible for the only Obama bashing comment the entire evening.
- Most memorable comment from the show: After fist pumping and screaming the lyrics along with the multitudes Dave turns to us all and quips, “Com’on guys, you gotta admit ‘Iron Maiden’ (the song) is pretty lame, right?” Of course he’s right, but there is a reason he is called the Misanthrope. They're going to get you Dave, you'd better watch out.
Other things…
- Had one of those flying inevitabilities that all who travel with any regularity has at least once in their lifetime: getting stranded on the runway for hours. Boarded the plane at 3:30, got into Atlanta at 11:00. Couldn’t be helped, shitty weather left over from all the storms that deluged Iowa last week blowing through. I simply tuned out all the aggravation with XM radio Deep Cuts and the 70’s channel and watched the sparks fly. My experience does beg this question of the female members of our species though: Why is it that being in a big metal tube makes you have to urinate so fucking much?! I swear to God, every woman on that plane got up to piss at least three times while stranded on the ground, and twice more during the two hour flight. Do you go to the bathroom that much when you're not on a plane?! I don’t mind being grounded for bad weather, but being bumped into in the isle seat constantly because the mop squeezers can’t control their bladder is enough to make one wish I was sitting next to
Richard Reid. Here’s a tip: go before you get on, and don’t drink the crappy complimentary beverages. Considering the fact that the rank stench of all airplane bathrooms rivals that of any Bonaroo Music Fest porta-potty after 60,000 tofu eating vegans have defiled it for four days, I’ll never figure out why women are so anxious to disturb their fellow seatmates to go hangout in there. If anyone cares to tackle this age old query please leave you thoughts in the comments section.
- Lastly, my brother
Mathdude thinks it’s a good idea to record all our teenage transgressions for future generations to read and make fun of. I’m not sure he’s right about that, but nonetheless it ought to be fun at least for those who lived it. Enter at your own risk
here…
It's been a hell week at work attempting the wrap stuff up before taking next week off to head into the North Carolina mountains for a family reunion (Asheville to be exact). Each of the three components of the Alva family will be renting a house and proving to everybody that living with your mother/father/brothers/sisters is a hell nobody ever wants to have to experience again in life if not forced to by way of economic hardship or some other devastating event.
