iEATcars!

It was there we found ourselves, giggling and people watching as we laid out on a blanket in a soothing mix of sunshine and a misty rain. Lost in each other’s eyes and embraced in our souls, we found comfort in just being. Music played in the background as the rest of the crowd ceased to exist around us, until there was a sudden hush and in complete unison, we all sang along.

Just a small town girl, livin’ in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin’ anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin’ anywhere

An odd mix we all were, waiting to see the pirates invade our city like they do every year. But this time it felt different. The buzz of alcohol had already set in for most, but for us, we were soaring among the clouds on a high brought to us only by the love we shared.

A singer in a smoky room
The smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

As the rain drops grew, we picked up and unpacked our ponchos. The heavier rain wouldn’t keep us from the fun and excitement that we shared in the waiting. We were shot back to childhood with thoughts of the treasures we would soon receive. Some of us even came dressed up; out of place Halloween addicts that stumbled upon a whole other day to live in make believe.

Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlight people, livin’ just to find emotion
Hidin’, somewhere in the night

Powerful booms shook the skies as the ship’s silhouette made its way for our land, firing its cannons in a steady succession. We held each other as we looked out onto the horizon and our excitement only grew more intense with each wave that crashed across their bow. The waters were choppy, but no match for these well-seasoned sea dogs. Tampa was theirs for the taking and even King Neptune himself couldn’t bring a halt to their voyage.

Workin’ hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill
Payin’ anything to roll the dice just one more time
Some will win, some will lose, some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Finally, their boots made contact on our shores, and the parade commenced. Quite quickly our anticipations and anxiousness had been met with a plethora of baubles, bangles and beads; whatever the pirates would throw us. Grown adults living in the moment, we remembered just how it felt when we were young. In all these years gone by, this one day quickly climbed the charts as we straddled the fence between then and now, and I can’t imagine anyone better to have shared that moment with.

Don’t stop believin’
Hold on to the feelin’
Streetlight people

Don’t stop believin’
Hold on
Streetlight people

Observations

In this day in age with celebrity babies being brought into the world with names like Apple, Audio and Jermajesty and non-celebrity babies with names like Nevaeh, Celica and Opal, I wasn’t all that shocked the other day at work when I came across someone named Sister.

It was an email I received from one of the faculty members of one of our partners. Standing so boldly there by itself was her signature

-Sister

I admit that I thought for a second, “Well, that’s an odd name.” But I followed that up with, “Of course there could be way worse.” And you know I’m right. Jermajesty makes Sister look as plain as Jane. As our email correspondence grew, so did the number of people involved in the conversation. The whole time, I continued to call her Sister as in “Sister was saying…” and “Sister had a good that…”

Then someone referred to her as Sister Colleen.

My thoughts here were, “Sister Colleen… must be from a country kind of family. Must be like Betty Sue. Sister Colleen. Okay.” And the email chain continued with me then using “Sister” and “Sister Colleen” interchangeably.

Then someone referred to her as Sr. Colleen.

“Sr.”? Hmm. That’s a title abbreviation… for Sister. As in nun. As in oh-my-God-she’s-a-NUN!

Okay, so wow. I should have assumed that she was a nun when I saw Sister Colleen in the very least, but in my defense, who the heck signs their emails with just their title? I don’t sign my emails as “Mister” and I don’t see doctors signing things as just “Doctor”. She was trying to trick me! That shady nun!

Office Space

Luck helps those who help themselves.

In Bed

Once again I found myself at Walgreen’s and had an exchange with someone that may not have been all there. You’d think that this might be a sign that I should get my prescriptions filled elsewhere.

As I walked up to the counter and told the pharmacist that I’m picking up, I placed a box of Lemonheads on the counter. The pharmacist started to ring me up when she let out a bit of a giggle.

A stoner giggle? Yes, actually. A very stoner giggle.

“The word lemon always makes me giggle,” she said as she pointed and ran her finger along the letters on the box.

More stoner giggles.

After faking a bit of a chuckle, I asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because they’re sour.”

More stoner giggles.

“Ah. Yea, they normally are,” I replied as I grabbed the shopping bag and receipt and made my way out of the store.

Yea, sure she could very well have been completely drug free and maybe just a little… off center, to put it nicely. And yes, she could very well have been blitzed out of her mind. But the important question to ask here is do I want either one messing with my prescriptions?

Observations

I want to say thank you to people out there that were concerned about the lack of posting on my part. It’s nice to know there are people out there that are a little concerned when the posts don’t come out so quickly. The holidays and the end of 2009 brought a lot my way, and I have been staying pretty busy both in work and play. So let me take this opportunity to get up to speed a bit.

Happy Festivus, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, Happy Boxing Day, and a big, ol’ Happy New Year to you all! *SHEESH* That’s a lot of holidays I missed between posts.

Now, that I’ve gotten all that out of the way, let me say that I have some stuff lined up, and the words will once again flow like the great Mississippi River. Hopefully. So stay tuned, kids. Daddy’s got some nice ones for ya.

Right Here Right Now

It’s up to you to clarify.

In Bed

There’s a post I’ve been meaning to write ever since we got back from Pittsburgh, but every time I sit down to write it, the words fail me. So badly do I want to put to digital paper the excitement, joy and inner convulsions that this place gave me.

A small, unassuming store front nestled in Squirrel Hill, Jerry’s Records is a vinyl junky’s wet dream, and it has become an exercise in futility trying to conjure up just the right words to do this place justice. So instead, I thought I’d let a video show you what I couldn’t convey in words.

Watch and drool, vinylpheliacs.

Record Store Blues

Jesus! We must be the last company on earth that doesn’t supply their employees with mechanical pencils! I think I was in the 6th grade the last time I had to use a pencil sharpener.

Okay, that’s not so much a conversation, as just some random rant from a co-worker as they walked by my desk. But really?! You’re angry because the company doesn’t supply you with mechanical pencils? There’s an answer for that. Pens. I mean, seriously, I think the last time I used a mechanical pencil was when I was in the 6th grade.

Observations, Office Space

Including others in your life will bring you great happiness.

In Bed

As days and eventual years march on and the mix of online consumerism and a wrecked economy filter through our lives, the record store has become an endangered species inching ever so closely to the point of extinction. And it’s not just the mom-n-pop shops that are in danger anymore. In recent times, we’ve seen the fall of some of our largest chains like Tower and even Virgin. When chains like that come screeching to a halt, it’s only a matter of time before the rest follow suit.

Although we live in the information age and Google has etched its way into our everyday vernacular, so much is lost when that information is downloaded or shared online. If you’re anything like me, the music we purchase is more than just that, and the record store is often looked at as one’s community fortress of solitude, if there could be such a thing. A place where one can lose themselves in the sounds and spirits of the musical years gone by. The shelves, bins and walls are bursting with a life unlike anything you can get while perusing your favorite music blog or online music shop. There’s this cozy feeling you get when you’re crate digging for treasures alongside your fellow audiophiles, and you can feel the magic pulsing through the room when you find that special record or CD and ask the store clerk to give it a whirl or just settle in at the listening station with this new found nugget of joy.

With everything just a few keyboard taps away, it all comes so easily that it loses any context. What makes it unique to you? Where’s the connection you get in the effort that was made in finding it or, more importantly, the memory of the time when you first heard it. When your source of discovery is something as cold and sterile as a computer screen, it’s no wonder that it all becomes so meaningless. Sure, I’m a nostalgic guy, as I’ve been accused of so often, but beyond my inability to let go of the wonders of the past and the things that still tickle my memory banks, the record store is an oasis of reality in an increasingly digital and distant world; a vital part to our culture. We still need that tangibility… that closeness, don’t we? I know I do.

Record Store Blues