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03 september 2000
hi again, it's me Another relaxing afternoon in Malibu. I spent sunset at the Dume Room, home to local drunkards and low-lifes like myself, only to find out that after dark the place transforms itself into a meet market of highly eligible Pepperdine University coeds and fratboys. Forget the fratboys. I have an appointment to call the bartender in about a half hour, and she will tell me if it's worth driving back up there to check out the scene. I've been hanging out in this bar for over two years, and yet I've never been there after dark. Welcome to Malibu, I guess... On the bright side, I bought one of those California Lottery Scratcher cards for a buck, and wound up winning fifty-two dollars. Not too shabby.... ~~~ I have a wedding to attend in Montreal on October 21. I can bring a guest. If anyone would like to meet me there and accompany me, please let me know as soon as possible so I can put "2" on the reply card instead of my lonesome. One thing I learned in DC is that it sucks showing up at a wedding alone. It sucks less after the third drink, but it still sucks. Gonna hippitee hop into the shower now, heading back to the Dume Room, just because... ~~~ So I went back there, and drank myself into oblivion amongst the "beautiful people," beautiful people who have no right being in my neighborhoodly drunken hang, When I heard Jimmy Buffet's "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw" on the jukebox, I decided it was time for action. "3 Plays, One Dollar." So I put my bill in. In retrospect, I wasn't thinking too clearly. I chose, in order, "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey, "Creep" by TLC, and "25 or 6 to 4" by Chicago. For some reason, the machine beckoned me for a fourth choice. It was probably the imbecile before me, intoxicatingly neglecting to choose a last song. So I chose. Van Morrison. "Brown Eyed Girl." An act of lust, so to speak. "Don't Stop Believing." I've never played that one before. Steve Perry. Great piano lick. Digustingly 80s. I didn't enjoy it that much. "Creep." Soulful and groovy, and certainly inappropriate for a beachside dive bar. "25 or 6 to 4." Pre-Cetera Chicago. The lead singer wanted out of the band, decided he was gonna do the "solo career" thing. Two weeks later they found him dead with a gun in his hand, apparent suicide. Back in those days, no-one left the band Chicago, at least not alive. These days, I dunno, although all the production credits on the albums are still mostly Italian and Jewish names -- could still be a mafia front. My great uncle was in the mafia back then ... when he died (or natural causes), the funeral was like a scene out of the Godfather. He was one of my favorite relatives, a really nice guy. His job (as I was told) was running the Newark, NJ Department of Sanitation. I wonder if he ever met the band Chicago... "Brown Eyed Girl." Completely unneccessary. If anything, the song made me realize I had had way too much to drink. So I came home, and now it's time to sleep it all off. Fading out... (due to the loss of my digital camera, today's picture is from two years ago) 03 september 1999: : didn't write 03 september 1998: dehydrated words : The whole office was gathered around, aghast at the UNIX command line that had suddenly possesed my once happy mac. The installation went off without a hitch. [ swim back | email me | swim ahead ] |
