The road not so less traveled...
Independence day is when we show true American spirit by taking long weekends, shoveling copious amounts of charred meat and carbohydrates coated in mayo down our gullets all against the backdrop of colorful explosions. Far be it from me to buck the tradition of grilling and simulated violence, I just decided to add a more modern American twist to the weekend by driving like an Alzheimer's patient. I logged nearly 600 miles on my car between Friday and Tuesday. I'm not entirely sure why. My roommate speculated that it was a convenient parlor trick to feign omnipresence. He might be right, and if it really worked I might keep it up so I can get a renegade sect of Mormon's to follow me around. Start drinking the Kool Aid ladies, I was supposed to get this polygamy thing rolling before 30, so I'm a little behind schedule.
Friday was my company picnic, I'm never one to complain about losing a half days work to sit in the owner's backyard and eat and drink for free. A couple of new spins for this year, there was an honest to goodness DJ at the event, who played a pretty good mix of hits from the past 40 years. And for the kiddies, a bouncy castle, I think we all see where this is going. Yes towards the end of the afternoon, once the kids were bored and the inflatable keep was taunting me with the lonely hiss of his air pump, I decided to inspect the situation. Apparently in this politically correct age they don't put weight limits on these things. I don't know if its because they don't want to offend anyone or because Americans probably couldn't handle the simple addition involved combining the weight of six pre-teens. All the sign said was that if you have kids that are 12 or under, you could have 4 on at a time. I felt dejected, but then I remembered that kids these days don't do anything except eat fruit roll-ups and stare blankly at the X-box 360. So I reasoned I was safe, since I couldn't possibly weigh more than 4 of the ever fattening future leaders of America. I was still a little concerned after the first jump, but my worry floated away on the weightlessness of tarpaulin filled with air. I didn't stay in long, I rode for 8 seconds to get my qualifying score from the judges. There was business to attend to.
A group of us said our goodbyes and headed northward towards the Atlantic Highlands, which seems to be a cool place to hang out in the summertime. On the way my travelogue started, I had to get gasoline so I reset the trip odometer at this point so for those of you that are following along at home, this is mile marker zero. We headed towards an establishment called Windansea, a witty contraction, and not a bad outside bar. I had wisely taken time off from the old bouncing job so I could have the option of hanging around the shore that night. I was lured to hob knob with my fellow worker-bees by the prospect of my friend Kim's sister's 21st birthday celebration. You might remember Kim from a few weeks back in Morristown. I'm sure she her intentions were to have people to hang out with and keeping me as far away from her siblings as possible, but you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. The problem as I saw it was it was about 7pm and the party wasn't arriving until 10, so I had to keep a leash on the forces that generally make these blogs humorous, at least for the time being. It wasn't so hard, we had a few suds and finger food, jalapeno poppers might be the most important invention of my lifetime. As it got darker out and cooled down a bit, the weather started to turn, some high winds and sprinkles, but nothing major. A few of my co-workers had to leave to attend to other obligations, but they seemed to get replaced by others from the bullpen. Of course I was firmly planted at the bar, I have to wonder if anyone thought of this because I believe I was the only one to stay for the duration. Not that I really care what anyone thinks. The birthday party finally arrived and we headed upstairs to see Brian Kirk and the Jerks. They were a really good cover band, and apparently they bring the ladies in. I reached a crossroads at around 12:30, my weekend plan was to ditch and head down to LBI for AM fishing. Looking back, I probably should have raged like a maniac from the minute I got there and found some sort of trouble around 1:30 with full intentions of crashing somewhere and getting up real early to make the boat, but actually oversleeping by 2 hours and getting angry voicemails. I'm disappointed in my new found responsibility. I calmly departed the club, took the long ride to the parkway, and barreled 50 miles down the coast.
I arrived in LBI around 2am to a dark house. I woke my friend Brian up when I came in, Bri had made the trip from D.C. and was part of the reason I stayed in control during the previous events. Bri was sleeping on the previously mentioned torture couch, which meant I was on the tile floor, and I wasn't really prepared for my stay. 5:30am came awfully fast, and though I had a nice sleeping bag, I pretty much felt like Mickey Rourke looks. A quick stop at 7-11 for portable nutrition, which included a giant Gatorade for me, and we were out on the water. Partway out of the inlet, we had some engine sputtering. I'm actually a strong swimmer, and I figure I'm a little more buoyant than I used to be, but still comprehending a dive into 60 degree water to get to shore wasn't a comforting thought. It turned out to be bad gas, because we switched tanks and were going again in no time. The weather was beautiful, not a lot of wind though and the tide wasn't helping, so we didn't get a good drift. However before we headed in, I managed to pull the only keeper fluke of the day out of the murky deep. 21 inches and 4 pounds of good eatin. I am the master angler. Back at the dock, we cleaned my catch and headed home for food. Tiki Taco is a short walk away from Brendan's house. We got carry out and feasted on Mexican delights. Guacamole is a wonder of nature. It was getting late in the day, and I had to work that night, so I packed my catch in ice, and drove around 100 or so miles back to Mo'town. Dropped off the fish at mom's and back to the apartment to rest up for work.
When I arrived at the bar, we had way to many people on duty, however it turned out that we were going to need them all. I stayed out front most of the night because the weather was nice, and I had a splotch of sunburn on my forearm where I missed with the sun block. Thanks Irish ancestors! I'm overdue for a blog about my pigment problems, I promise that's next. At some point during the night, this girl comes out with her friends and decides to try and pick me up. Lets just say she limped in, it might be because she was incredibly intoxicated. I don't think highly of myself, but my mom thinks I'm a good catch, besides I really can't turn down the chance to bust on anyone. So I listened to her run horrible game on me, and proceeded to twist her words around and make her feel bad about herself for the amusement of the other bouncers. I actually used the phrase "I really hope this isn't your A game". It wasn't, apparently her A game consisted of sticking her ass out at me. Maybe she should have gotten my name first. Her friends seemed to enjoy my belittling also. She went away, Rob didn't understand why I was being mean, I wasn't really mean, I'm just not going to give somebody the time of day just because they have a vagina. I ended up going inside to see if this drama was going to play out, and you know sometimes something can be said for effort so maybe if she wanted my number I would give it to her, who am I to judge someone who is impaired? It turns out that I dodged a bullet, while stationed at the inside door, watching this girl try and talk to some other guys, she came back from the bar and fell. HARD. Like Evil Kneivel hard. She was ok, but one of my standards for making time for someone is they have to stay upright. The bar was full most of the night, so I suppose it was worth me not being able to hang out with my friends by the water. I hit the bed with a vengeance when I got home, I probably should have gotten up early and done laundry and took care of business around the house, but I needed to make sure I removed the imprint of the tile floor from the night before.
Sunday I headed out to the boondocks of Newton, NJ. I haven't always been a dazzling urbanite, I grew up in Sussex county until my parents got divorced, and then was there every other weekend till high school. Its nice out in the country, a few too many mullets and pick up trucks, but its a give and take. This was my second year at Oscar's fourth of July celebration. Horseshoes and beer pong balls were flying when I arrived. I lingered around the grill till a burger came off with my name on it. Then I circled like a buzzard for the kebobs. Rob and I went through a fair amount of drafts, I didn't participate in any games, wasn't feeling up to horseshoes, and couldn't find a suitable partner for pong. I had other things on my mind. The year previous Rob and I had discovered that Oscar likes seafood, and buys a bushel of clams to throw on the grill. This year I was devising the bivalve final solution. Once the steamers hit the grill, it was on like donkey kong. Rob and I actually stood right next to the grill and proceeded to shovel hot mollusks down our throats as they came off the fire. It was ugly. I probably am so filled with mercury at this point that I can tell the temperature outside just by looking. The day progressed on, a little sprinkle of rain. Oscar is Latino, Columbian I believe, so a pinata was in order for the rug rats. There was a little adventure trying to throw an extension cord over a high branch by tying it to a horseshoe and heaving the contraption in the air. Unfortunately no head injuries, and I did my part by boosting Oscar into the air to pull the shoe down once it was in a reasonable range. On a side note, when my friend Steve arrived he didn't come up to shake our hands, apparently he didn't see me, I suppose it was an honest mistake it could have been an iceberg or a good humor truck standing in the backyard. No Steve, I was the large white object passing slowly through the grass. Before I left the elder group of Oscar's family had kicked out the jams and were doing the meringue and the cha-cha on the patio. It was pretty cool, I couldn't bring myself to do the Rerun dance. I was headed back down the shore, Oscar gave me a fair share of guilt for leaving, and I felt it, I did stay 4 hours though not 1. Hopefully the bottle of 12 year old scotch I brought him eased the pain of my early exit.
I threw Ray Charles in the stereo, and got on the accelerator back down to LBI. I wanted to catch up with Brian, and there were some of the other Mo'town boys thrown into the mix. Down 15 to 80 East, onto 287, across 24 and 78 to the Parkway, yet again. When I got to the Raritan River, I had changed CDs to Traffic's John Barleycorn Must Die, which is actually a good driving record. I was rocking out to the organ hits of "Empty Pages" when the lightning started on one side and the fireworks were going up on the other. It was kind of a surreal backdrop for the snake of headlights that were heading northbound. This was around 9pm, I still had an hour to go on the Parkway, plus getting to the Island. I arrived to a well lubricated crowd playing a well known card based drinking game. We headed out to the Marlin bar, to catch Lifespeed, a cover band that I usually enjoy. The 20 dollar cover didn't make me happy, nor did the mooks all jammed in like rats on a sinking ship. I accidentally bumped into some guido on my way to the bathroom who was too old to be chicken hawking girls at a shore bar and apparently spent too much time at the gym. I could tell he was disappointed when he turned around and realized that I was 6 inches taller than he was and outweighed him by enough to make him uncomfortable. I'm not a tough guy, really far from it, I fully admit it, I get by on size, but I think had he said something I might have flipped on him, because really if the club is at fire hazard level, get over it. In the bathroom, I overheard a conversation about a guy getting dirty looks from people, I said he should try being my size, he said I should try being my size and black, apparently I misunderstood the problem. I kind of shook my head and said sorry, he said no big deal. Then some guy came out of the stall and asked him if anyone ever told him he looked like Tiger Woods, which he kind of did but that's besides the point. I pulled him aside at the sink and said "you are kidding me right?" and he said it was like that all weekend for him, damn whitey. I told him to grab me if some redneck gave him a hard time and I bought him a beer later when he got out. People are stupid and that's why I take the time to make fun of them on the Internet. We headed out at close, picked up food from Chicken or the Egg on the way home. Best wings on earth I swear. There wasn't much hope for my little fried friends. One of the girls that was staying in the house started to clean compulsively, so I started to make fun of her compulsively. I have no idea who she was, a friend of a friend leeching off of a mutual friend for a place to stay at the shore like I was. She seemed a little perturbed when I called her Mary Poppins, then she tried to throw the uneaten wings away, asking if I really was going to eat them in the morning.
I had chicken wings and cold pizza for breakfast. Partly to nettle Mary Poppins, mostly because its delicious. I hung out and caught up with my friends and headed once again back to Morristown because I don't think I could take much more of this pace and I needed to do laundry. I got home, threw a few loads in stripped my bed, and promptly got a call to go to Randolph to drink poolside. A man has to do what a man has to do. Poolside turned into a night out in Mo'town, which turned into me low on sleep and drinking a bit too much. Nothing too eventful, at some point I remembered that my bed wasn't made and covered in laundry, the laundry was clean, but I think its better that I didn't stay at home. Sometimes alcohol is like that waterfall that family traveled over to enter the Land of the Lost. However you don't enter a world of prehistoric creatures and Sleestaks, you enter a world of pink sheets with fringe and beds with too many pillows on them. I'll leave it at that. I escaped my confines and once again made it home to finish my laundry and eventually head over to Mom's for the final barbeque of the weekend. Nothing like eating fish that you caught, especially when paired with steak and the best damn potato salad in the world. Many have tried to top my mom's potato cooking abilities, and all of them have failed. Her potato salad is second only to her mashed. A little corn on the cob helped keep things moving and a favorite of mine deviled eggs. I ended up playing cribbage with my mom after dinner, just for nostalgia's sake. Its a good card game, counting, luck and strategy. I wanted to play for money, but I forgot that my mom isn't a degenerate, she only raises them. I returned home to clean sheets and laundry to swap stories of my epic travels with my roommate. I tried to interject some Cyclops and Kraken into my tales, but he reminded me that I drive a Mitsubishi not a ship from Odysseus.
Well I think we have reached information saturation. There are a few stories that were shortened to protect the innocent. I have mixed feelings on self editing, but for now I feel its best, maybe I can expound on them in the future. Short work week this week so stay tuned for more adventures.
Friday was my company picnic, I'm never one to complain about losing a half days work to sit in the owner's backyard and eat and drink for free. A couple of new spins for this year, there was an honest to goodness DJ at the event, who played a pretty good mix of hits from the past 40 years. And for the kiddies, a bouncy castle, I think we all see where this is going. Yes towards the end of the afternoon, once the kids were bored and the inflatable keep was taunting me with the lonely hiss of his air pump, I decided to inspect the situation. Apparently in this politically correct age they don't put weight limits on these things. I don't know if its because they don't want to offend anyone or because Americans probably couldn't handle the simple addition involved combining the weight of six pre-teens. All the sign said was that if you have kids that are 12 or under, you could have 4 on at a time. I felt dejected, but then I remembered that kids these days don't do anything except eat fruit roll-ups and stare blankly at the X-box 360. So I reasoned I was safe, since I couldn't possibly weigh more than 4 of the ever fattening future leaders of America. I was still a little concerned after the first jump, but my worry floated away on the weightlessness of tarpaulin filled with air. I didn't stay in long, I rode for 8 seconds to get my qualifying score from the judges. There was business to attend to.
A group of us said our goodbyes and headed northward towards the Atlantic Highlands, which seems to be a cool place to hang out in the summertime. On the way my travelogue started, I had to get gasoline so I reset the trip odometer at this point so for those of you that are following along at home, this is mile marker zero. We headed towards an establishment called Windansea, a witty contraction, and not a bad outside bar. I had wisely taken time off from the old bouncing job so I could have the option of hanging around the shore that night. I was lured to hob knob with my fellow worker-bees by the prospect of my friend Kim's sister's 21st birthday celebration. You might remember Kim from a few weeks back in Morristown. I'm sure she her intentions were to have people to hang out with and keeping me as far away from her siblings as possible, but you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. The problem as I saw it was it was about 7pm and the party wasn't arriving until 10, so I had to keep a leash on the forces that generally make these blogs humorous, at least for the time being. It wasn't so hard, we had a few suds and finger food, jalapeno poppers might be the most important invention of my lifetime. As it got darker out and cooled down a bit, the weather started to turn, some high winds and sprinkles, but nothing major. A few of my co-workers had to leave to attend to other obligations, but they seemed to get replaced by others from the bullpen. Of course I was firmly planted at the bar, I have to wonder if anyone thought of this because I believe I was the only one to stay for the duration. Not that I really care what anyone thinks. The birthday party finally arrived and we headed upstairs to see Brian Kirk and the Jerks. They were a really good cover band, and apparently they bring the ladies in. I reached a crossroads at around 12:30, my weekend plan was to ditch and head down to LBI for AM fishing. Looking back, I probably should have raged like a maniac from the minute I got there and found some sort of trouble around 1:30 with full intentions of crashing somewhere and getting up real early to make the boat, but actually oversleeping by 2 hours and getting angry voicemails. I'm disappointed in my new found responsibility. I calmly departed the club, took the long ride to the parkway, and barreled 50 miles down the coast.
I arrived in LBI around 2am to a dark house. I woke my friend Brian up when I came in, Bri had made the trip from D.C. and was part of the reason I stayed in control during the previous events. Bri was sleeping on the previously mentioned torture couch, which meant I was on the tile floor, and I wasn't really prepared for my stay. 5:30am came awfully fast, and though I had a nice sleeping bag, I pretty much felt like Mickey Rourke looks. A quick stop at 7-11 for portable nutrition, which included a giant Gatorade for me, and we were out on the water. Partway out of the inlet, we had some engine sputtering. I'm actually a strong swimmer, and I figure I'm a little more buoyant than I used to be, but still comprehending a dive into 60 degree water to get to shore wasn't a comforting thought. It turned out to be bad gas, because we switched tanks and were going again in no time. The weather was beautiful, not a lot of wind though and the tide wasn't helping, so we didn't get a good drift. However before we headed in, I managed to pull the only keeper fluke of the day out of the murky deep. 21 inches and 4 pounds of good eatin. I am the master angler. Back at the dock, we cleaned my catch and headed home for food. Tiki Taco is a short walk away from Brendan's house. We got carry out and feasted on Mexican delights. Guacamole is a wonder of nature. It was getting late in the day, and I had to work that night, so I packed my catch in ice, and drove around 100 or so miles back to Mo'town. Dropped off the fish at mom's and back to the apartment to rest up for work.
When I arrived at the bar, we had way to many people on duty, however it turned out that we were going to need them all. I stayed out front most of the night because the weather was nice, and I had a splotch of sunburn on my forearm where I missed with the sun block. Thanks Irish ancestors! I'm overdue for a blog about my pigment problems, I promise that's next. At some point during the night, this girl comes out with her friends and decides to try and pick me up. Lets just say she limped in, it might be because she was incredibly intoxicated. I don't think highly of myself, but my mom thinks I'm a good catch, besides I really can't turn down the chance to bust on anyone. So I listened to her run horrible game on me, and proceeded to twist her words around and make her feel bad about herself for the amusement of the other bouncers. I actually used the phrase "I really hope this isn't your A game". It wasn't, apparently her A game consisted of sticking her ass out at me. Maybe she should have gotten my name first. Her friends seemed to enjoy my belittling also. She went away, Rob didn't understand why I was being mean, I wasn't really mean, I'm just not going to give somebody the time of day just because they have a vagina. I ended up going inside to see if this drama was going to play out, and you know sometimes something can be said for effort so maybe if she wanted my number I would give it to her, who am I to judge someone who is impaired? It turns out that I dodged a bullet, while stationed at the inside door, watching this girl try and talk to some other guys, she came back from the bar and fell. HARD. Like Evil Kneivel hard. She was ok, but one of my standards for making time for someone is they have to stay upright. The bar was full most of the night, so I suppose it was worth me not being able to hang out with my friends by the water. I hit the bed with a vengeance when I got home, I probably should have gotten up early and done laundry and took care of business around the house, but I needed to make sure I removed the imprint of the tile floor from the night before.
Sunday I headed out to the boondocks of Newton, NJ. I haven't always been a dazzling urbanite, I grew up in Sussex county until my parents got divorced, and then was there every other weekend till high school. Its nice out in the country, a few too many mullets and pick up trucks, but its a give and take. This was my second year at Oscar's fourth of July celebration. Horseshoes and beer pong balls were flying when I arrived. I lingered around the grill till a burger came off with my name on it. Then I circled like a buzzard for the kebobs. Rob and I went through a fair amount of drafts, I didn't participate in any games, wasn't feeling up to horseshoes, and couldn't find a suitable partner for pong. I had other things on my mind. The year previous Rob and I had discovered that Oscar likes seafood, and buys a bushel of clams to throw on the grill. This year I was devising the bivalve final solution. Once the steamers hit the grill, it was on like donkey kong. Rob and I actually stood right next to the grill and proceeded to shovel hot mollusks down our throats as they came off the fire. It was ugly. I probably am so filled with mercury at this point that I can tell the temperature outside just by looking. The day progressed on, a little sprinkle of rain. Oscar is Latino, Columbian I believe, so a pinata was in order for the rug rats. There was a little adventure trying to throw an extension cord over a high branch by tying it to a horseshoe and heaving the contraption in the air. Unfortunately no head injuries, and I did my part by boosting Oscar into the air to pull the shoe down once it was in a reasonable range. On a side note, when my friend Steve arrived he didn't come up to shake our hands, apparently he didn't see me, I suppose it was an honest mistake it could have been an iceberg or a good humor truck standing in the backyard. No Steve, I was the large white object passing slowly through the grass. Before I left the elder group of Oscar's family had kicked out the jams and were doing the meringue and the cha-cha on the patio. It was pretty cool, I couldn't bring myself to do the Rerun dance. I was headed back down the shore, Oscar gave me a fair share of guilt for leaving, and I felt it, I did stay 4 hours though not 1. Hopefully the bottle of 12 year old scotch I brought him eased the pain of my early exit.
I threw Ray Charles in the stereo, and got on the accelerator back down to LBI. I wanted to catch up with Brian, and there were some of the other Mo'town boys thrown into the mix. Down 15 to 80 East, onto 287, across 24 and 78 to the Parkway, yet again. When I got to the Raritan River, I had changed CDs to Traffic's John Barleycorn Must Die, which is actually a good driving record. I was rocking out to the organ hits of "Empty Pages" when the lightning started on one side and the fireworks were going up on the other. It was kind of a surreal backdrop for the snake of headlights that were heading northbound. This was around 9pm, I still had an hour to go on the Parkway, plus getting to the Island. I arrived to a well lubricated crowd playing a well known card based drinking game. We headed out to the Marlin bar, to catch Lifespeed, a cover band that I usually enjoy. The 20 dollar cover didn't make me happy, nor did the mooks all jammed in like rats on a sinking ship. I accidentally bumped into some guido on my way to the bathroom who was too old to be chicken hawking girls at a shore bar and apparently spent too much time at the gym. I could tell he was disappointed when he turned around and realized that I was 6 inches taller than he was and outweighed him by enough to make him uncomfortable. I'm not a tough guy, really far from it, I fully admit it, I get by on size, but I think had he said something I might have flipped on him, because really if the club is at fire hazard level, get over it. In the bathroom, I overheard a conversation about a guy getting dirty looks from people, I said he should try being my size, he said I should try being my size and black, apparently I misunderstood the problem. I kind of shook my head and said sorry, he said no big deal. Then some guy came out of the stall and asked him if anyone ever told him he looked like Tiger Woods, which he kind of did but that's besides the point. I pulled him aside at the sink and said "you are kidding me right?" and he said it was like that all weekend for him, damn whitey. I told him to grab me if some redneck gave him a hard time and I bought him a beer later when he got out. People are stupid and that's why I take the time to make fun of them on the Internet. We headed out at close, picked up food from Chicken or the Egg on the way home. Best wings on earth I swear. There wasn't much hope for my little fried friends. One of the girls that was staying in the house started to clean compulsively, so I started to make fun of her compulsively. I have no idea who she was, a friend of a friend leeching off of a mutual friend for a place to stay at the shore like I was. She seemed a little perturbed when I called her Mary Poppins, then she tried to throw the uneaten wings away, asking if I really was going to eat them in the morning.
I had chicken wings and cold pizza for breakfast. Partly to nettle Mary Poppins, mostly because its delicious. I hung out and caught up with my friends and headed once again back to Morristown because I don't think I could take much more of this pace and I needed to do laundry. I got home, threw a few loads in stripped my bed, and promptly got a call to go to Randolph to drink poolside. A man has to do what a man has to do. Poolside turned into a night out in Mo'town, which turned into me low on sleep and drinking a bit too much. Nothing too eventful, at some point I remembered that my bed wasn't made and covered in laundry, the laundry was clean, but I think its better that I didn't stay at home. Sometimes alcohol is like that waterfall that family traveled over to enter the Land of the Lost. However you don't enter a world of prehistoric creatures and Sleestaks, you enter a world of pink sheets with fringe and beds with too many pillows on them. I'll leave it at that. I escaped my confines and once again made it home to finish my laundry and eventually head over to Mom's for the final barbeque of the weekend. Nothing like eating fish that you caught, especially when paired with steak and the best damn potato salad in the world. Many have tried to top my mom's potato cooking abilities, and all of them have failed. Her potato salad is second only to her mashed. A little corn on the cob helped keep things moving and a favorite of mine deviled eggs. I ended up playing cribbage with my mom after dinner, just for nostalgia's sake. Its a good card game, counting, luck and strategy. I wanted to play for money, but I forgot that my mom isn't a degenerate, she only raises them. I returned home to clean sheets and laundry to swap stories of my epic travels with my roommate. I tried to interject some Cyclops and Kraken into my tales, but he reminded me that I drive a Mitsubishi not a ship from Odysseus.
Well I think we have reached information saturation. There are a few stories that were shortened to protect the innocent. I have mixed feelings on self editing, but for now I feel its best, maybe I can expound on them in the future. Short work week this week so stay tuned for more adventures.
posted by JD at 9:38 AM
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