I love it when I ramble...

I really can't (read: won't - what happens on the road stays on the road) talk about Sunday. I did enjoy myself tremendously and am grateful for all of the brothers that came out and did the damn thing.

Thank you, and next year let's stay home and do it in the basement on the high def.


I haven't been home, I stashed a few changes of clothes in the trunk and did the 3 S's on the fly. Thank the lawd for comps... yeah, that's right, after my free 3 star hotel visit, I went straight to work. No going home and sleeping in my bed, just Monday morning traffic and lots of coffee. Car guage clocked damn near 8 hours of driving on my behalf on Sunday, almost half a day.





From the dash this morning. Surprisingly, I was fresh all day, even with limited sleep and bad officiating on the brain.

Getting into work this morning, I noticed that I was the only person in the whole joint that took the Super Bowl seriously (and I ain't talking bout' "The Fix" and how he held the Seahawks to 10 points either). I mean, getting the chance to travel and experience the excitement and hooplah is a cool thing. Gives me a chance to meet and greeet cousins new and old. I'm glad I got the chance to get out. Everybody else stayed home and watched "Grey's Anatomy". It is a boring existance at the new gig. Too many football widows. Had to hook up with Troy and hit Outback to vent and discuss over a few adult beverages for him, a Coke and water for me. I was good today.

Whatever.

I'll get a chance to hang out with my "schmoke and a pancake" partner this weekend. Can't wait. We used to hang til' the sun would chase us home. Movies, dinner, stupid shit like tours and reverse shopping. Bowling at 3am. Breakfast at Clarkes at 9:30. At night. Rocky Horror Picture Show bashing and arthouse featurettes that only we could stand. Music, music, music: Clash, Cure, Duran Duran, Van Hunt, Rahssan Patterson (and that damn concert!), Sun Ra and the Akestra. Gil Scott-Heron (The Bottle, baby!) D Train, Miki Howard, Annie Lennox, Rachid (remember the album cover?), Betty Wright, Depeche Mode, the Lil Purple Nigga, Jameriquoi, the Beasties, Sylvester, Biz, Incognito and countless hours of studio sessions with Al and I. We kicked it. Most of the time we went nowhere. Some of the times we almost died (remember the keychain from Great America? - or that night/morning at Berlin and the lakefront? or some random night at Rannalli's?). We still can kick it, but haven't. I think that might change...

As long as her momma doesn't rush me in the middle of the street in her housecoat with that pistol again.