I thought he sounded like someone was choking a homeless person.
But that seems like eons ago. Now? Well…now I think he’s a f’ing genius. That voice, that guttural agony. Without compunction, it lays bare all of his sins, his heartaches, his infinite sadness and his endless nights of longing. Jersey Girl is…well…it is what it is. It makes you know why you are in love, reminds you of why you were in love or makes you realize why you want to be in love again. Don’t look for Britney or Justin when it comes to love songs. Thomas Alan Waits has got that all hemmed up.
And I will argue with you to the grave and never back down on my opinion that Tom Traubert’s Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen) is the greatest “drunk at the bar, two in the morning and I’m all alone” song ever penned.
Tom Waits ain’t no pop star. He’s the guy pop stars have nightmares about. Because they know that his voice will resonate long after theirs has dissolved into the stratosphere.
So, the other day, I am driving in my car and I catch sight of this bumper sticker. The sticker read:
“Discrimination! That’s so gay”
I knew what the bumper sticker was trying to say. Discrimination is abominable. Discrimination is unsatisfactory. Discrimination is such a waste of time. But by calling it gay, doesn’t that in a way imply that being gay carries all of these negative connotations as well? I know I am reading too much into it, but it stuck with me. As a result, I have decided to come up with a few of my own ambiguous pro-equality bumper sticker slogans.
“Discrimination against the handicapped! That’s so lame”
“Racism! That’s so genetically inferior“
“Misogynists! They need to just shut up and make me dinner”
“Anti-Semites! They really need to be perfected”
And so on and so on…
Four vodka tonics in and I’ve got a nice little buzz going. Sitting in the hotel bar in Chicago. Drinking alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Once you’ve traveled with someone fun, you realize that traveling alone is a bit of a downer. I wanted to be Langston Hughes. The Big Sea, I Wonder As I Wander. Great books. Filled me with wanderlust. But traversing the map all by my lonesome does have its negative points. Hmm. Wanted to get out and see the city a bit, but have spent the last two nights glued to the laptop, working on problems for my job. I shouldn’t complain. This is a business trip. Why should I have any pleasure? Still…first time in Chicago. Thought I’d see a little more.
The GPS lady hates me. Thought I would be smart and get a GPS with the rental car. Figured traveling the streets of Chicago without some direction would be an ignorant move. Only problem is, I think the woman behind the GPS voice has a grudge. Not sure if it’s against men or out-of-towners or what, but how can you tell me that the Sheraton is point three miles away when I’m sitting in the hotel parking lot? She leads me around and around, and I continue to listen to her because I want to trust her. I want to believe that she would not lead me astray. But alas. She likes f’ing with my head. I guess it’s extended from real life women to virtual ones. Just my luck. I should have known something was up when she said, “Make a right at the light. Now put your right leg in. Put your right leg out. Put your right leg in and shake it all about.” She hates me.
How could Steinbrenner let go off Torre? The manager’s job is to get his team to the point where they can get the golden ring. He’s done that twelve times in a row. At some point, the big money guys have to earn their keep. Most organizations would kill to have a manager who could pretty much guarantee them a playoff birth every year. If the bats aren’t connecting, it’s not his fault.
The more time I spend in airport restrooms, the more I can’t believe that senator Craig was about to get busy in one. They have to be the most disgusting places on the planet. Public restrooms are disgusting as is, but airport restrooms. Blech! Who could get turned on by the smell of piss and excrement? Germs everywhere. I don’t even want to touch myself when I go in those places.
O’hare is probably the biggest airport I have seen. It’s like a city unto itself. LAX was big, but O’hare is a bit intimidating.
Whenever I see my luggage coming around on the carousel, I feel like I’m meeting an old friend. “Ahh. You made it!”
I used to think happiness after 30 was a myth. How depressed does a person have to be to think that? Wow. Never again. Happiness should be infinite. Life should be mostly sunny with occasional showers. If you feel otherwise, then you need to make a change or two.
There’s nothing more daunting than coming across a toll booth when you are not expecting one. I threw all the change I had into it and got the green light. Phew! The GPS chick is out to get me. I know it. Why else would she lead me to a toll. If I turn up missing, she should be the number one suspect.