When you figure it out...
Lately, it looks like I'm managing to blog, at least a little, on the day of "rest." Our lord's day. The day of Ra (the Egyptian sun god, I think). I've been contemplative again this week--contemplating folding laundry, contemplating getting the oil in my car changed, contemplating all the shoulds, and managing to get relatively few of them done. I'm down, but in a huge change of personality, I'm not going to write much about it. Wallowing doesn't seem to help, so I'm going to ignore the feelings and maybe drink them away. Or beat my wife. Or speed. Or do any of the other things normal people do to self-medicate and avoid having to deal with them. These particular feelings are not about anything I can do anything about, anyway, dealing as they do with the eventualities of life.
So instead, I'm going to write about one part of my evening yesterday, a part of my evening that you may have had to be there for, but that I'm going to try to describe anyway, because it was thoroughly amusing. I had gone to the movies with a friend (Alice in Wonderland in 3D--trippy and generally thumbs up-worthy), and after that we met up with some other people at a bar in Abbott-Kinney, which is a neighborhood somewhere in Los Angeles (Have I mentioned I don't get out much?). After we had been there for a while, a very large man tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to step back. He was large, so I did.
Then he and his 2 or 3 similarly large friends stood in a circle in the area they had cleared, crouched down, kicked out their right feet, stood up, lifted their heads, and yelled, "HOOOOOOOOOOOO!" like the sound a wolf would make. As they were getting ready to do this, my sophisticated Spidey sense told me that something cool was about to happen, so I poked my friend to get him to watch.
Unfortunately for him, the guy who asked me to stand back saw us watching and came over to explain what was going on. "When you figure out that you are drunk, you gotta kick the door down."
"First, you gotta clear a space--I was polite when I asked you to move, right?" he asked me. "Oh, very definitely," I said. Then he said, "Next, you gotta get down, wind it up, and kick that mo-fo down!" He showed us how it was done. Then he grabbed my friend to get him to do it too. He protested vehemently, but with the gentle encouragement of a group of enormous dudes, he ended up yelling "HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" with the best of them. And while he did that, I laughed and laughed. And then I laughed some more. But it's great, because now he has 3 or 4 new best friends who will totally be there for him, man...if they recognize him the next time they see him. (They won't.)
Okay, I've cheered myself up a little.