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 |   A third attempt at this blogging business. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "Have you ever taken a road trip? Give us your opinion on the "must see" city/cities to road trip to/from/through." Good afternoon, y'all! Had a little hiccup in the internet access again...went to sleep Tuesday night and woke up to none. The landlord here changed it to "password only", and among my goals today was trying to procure it from him. Thankfully, I didn't have to chase him down or wait until this evening to get it. In the interim, I had a pretty good day, so let's dive into these prompts while the feeling is still unsmushable, shall we? I've kissed the proverbial ground of a few different cities in my journey through life, and some of them came from behind the wheel of a car travelling faster than the speed limit down the highways of our great planet. Pittsburg, Savannah, Nashville...even Hartford. Cleveland as well. I hit NYC once by bus and once by train. Not really "hit", cuz then I'd be a terrorist (although my NYC via train experience after 9/11 was a Penn Station nightmare, and the days after weren't great either). Let's just say I've been there before. And I'm trying to think of a road trip experience I haven't written of yet, or at least one I haven't covered in a long ass time. Might as well re-tell the Pearl Jam story. I had a choice in 1998...see The Beastie Boys in Barrie, Ontario (with Biz Markie and A Tribe Called Quest opening), or Pearl Jam a week later with Cracker and Cheap Trick among the openers. I couldn't get two Saturdays off in a row, and the PJ tix were already paid for...the Beastie Boys tickets concert was kinda a last-minute thing, but I woulda loved my ass off at that show. You can't front on The Biz riffin' on Elton John's "Benny And The Jets" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roJwF9jKhp0). I would've loved to see The Tribe too, but I had to be an adult and choose my spots when it came to paid time off and weekends worked versus the majesty of concerts at the age of 23. I took my chances and went to PJ (although my sis went to the Beastie Boys show the week before). My boys Verno and DMFM were with me, along with Dave's boy Mark (a natural Canadian), who drove. A four hour ride from the B-lo into the sticks of northern Ontario...pre-GPS days, for all you little "I know where we're at 'cuzza my phone" kids. Molson Amphitheatre...Google that, music nerds. After we got our brews at the outdoor beer tent, out party went separate ways. DMFM and Verno (I'm not sure on this) went to see Cracker (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYdlqjiQPAc) and either Matthew Sweet or Matthew Good, but I can't remember which. Mark (maybe it was Marc) and I hung around to see Cheap Trick...I knew of them more than the other bands, so that's what appealed to me. We all met up before PJ came on; a grassy hill above the crowd and the tiny stage. I hadn't been to many concerts outside before that (my love was local bands at tiny clubs), but I was itching to see music outside in a new venue. No sooner did we meet up it seemed, then did PJ hit the stage. The people rushing the stage the second the opening chords of "Corduroy" separated Mark (maybe with a "c") and I from Verno and DMFM...we were pushed up to within feet from the stage, into the mosh pit. There was no way out...the crowd surged and we were stuck. I would love to say I was 15 feet away from Eddie Vedder at that time, but I began to fear for my life. Around five songs in, some chick crowdsurfing knocked off my hat and my glasses. The glasses were eventually replaceable, but the hat was a simple black hat with a Nike swoosh that had sat in the back of my car and was sun-worn...something I couldn't replicate. After I made my way out of the moshticular mess sans what I needed to see, I chose solid ground to enjoy the rest of the concert. I didn't think about anything else...like being stuck in a foreign land where I couldn't see a damn thing. Luckily, my crew was stationed just outside the venue's exits to scoop me up. I felt a yank on the collar of my shirt...corralling me back to the people I came with. I was in no position to argue...I was beat, and they had bought a "Yield" tour poster on my behalf. How could I be mad at that? I climbed in the back of Mark's Chevy Berretta and we got on the 401 (or 403...I don't remember) and we hit traffic in Toronto, so we stopped in a roadside diner for food. I had no glasses and was covered in mosh filth; someone made a joke and I smiled...my teeth were straight-up dirt. I was mortified but hungry. I'll probably tell that story a hundred different ways when asked about it, but it cost me $250 to replace the glasses...but the Nike hat with just the Swoosh was irreplaceable, to this day. I still shudder a little and my heart breaks a bit when I hear that song that I loved and hated for so many reasons before seeing PJ live for the first time...but then that... BCF PROMPT: "Did you ever have parent/teacher conferences? Did you dread or look forward to them?" I'm so wiped out from trying to relive the recent past... No, my man CR, no. Ain't a parent; ain't tryin' to be...adults are just too effed up. And if I've said it a million times before, I'mma say it again...there's no need for me to consider parentalysis by procreation, and therefore no point in me pontificating on my choice on y'alls needs on gettin' laid 'cuz you wanna make a babeh. You're a lot smarter than me if you're at that point. Children need more attention than I can give minus the babymomma as it is. I'm not in that place, I don't wanna be, and I won't put myself in that place. Yeah, my (my parent) mom had them, but I was a good kid, for the most part. I don't remember me being involved in any of them, but I remember being asked in 4th grade if I was depressed, and it being kinda major. Yeah, cuz me being a jerky smartass hating life when I'm nine years old is normal, and I'm supposed to pretend like being picked on by assholes is "ok". If that's what you mean, then yeah, or no, or yeah. I was that. No, I wasn't. Yeah, I was. Eff that isch. MUSICAL BREAK!! The first few bars of this song make me twitch a little, no matter how many times I've heard it before. I know I didn't do the story justice, and I'm late to the dance, but here's my Soundtracker Saturday via Thursday song (if it's allowed)...  THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  I'll never get that hat back, but I made it to my eye appointment yesterday, and I've got a keen scope on getting some new frames to go along with my bad eyesight. I don't see out of my left eye so much as I used to, and the frames I like don't sync up with what my insurance will pay for, but maybe I'll be seeing you a little better soon. Or so I hope. Have to throw this in here, if only to make it "official" on the Dubb-Dee-Cee and in reals...  Had something else image-wise I was gonna post up in here, but for the life of me I can't remember what it was. It wasn't the Five-Year-Old Me that my mom so happily posted last week on #ThrowbackThursday (or #TBT, like all the kids who ain't like you say). Oh my dear lord...I found it...I just did that. I'm so confused right now. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glb2U6y-GdU) With that, I probably need to get out of here so I can edit and pretend like I need that good night of sleep I haven't gotten that last couple of days. Peace, I don't wanna take what you can't give, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! I swear fo' gawd, I'mma neva eat French Toast in a restaurant again. Ever. |
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