Christopher Columbus killed millions of American Indians... And we love him for it.
I'm a huge douchebag, just like columbus, how come noone celebrates me?
What a night. What a week... right? School is done. Exams have came on gone. Another semester flies by. At the end do we look back and say what happened to the time? I did. I'm not sure what happened after christmas, or spring break, but suddenly here we are. People are beginning to say goodbye for the summer. Which is sad. Epsecially if they give you an awkwardly long hug and you know you may never see them again, but others go and you think that they can't stay gone long enough, but deep down you know that you are dying for them to come so you can hear about their summer and you can tell them about all the great things you wasted your time on. It's a beautiful circle.
On Wednesday, I was in the car with a friend when a random comment caused her to stop in mid-sentence, look me square in the eye (while driving, mind you), and say, "Do NOT say that again. That is NOT okay." Whatever the offending phrase was (I think it was the word "sneakles", which really isn't offensive at all when you get right down to it. Completely nonsensical, yes; offensive, not so much), it wasn't half as painful and awkward as the opening paragraph of the latest Bill Simmons column on ESPN. I'm one of those potentially misguided souls who genuinely enjoys Simmons' work and looks forward to his writing, but this scared the hell out of me:
I feel like my one and only true relationship that actually is worth much comes from my music (excluding friends). I love my songs. This has been a rare night for me. I am in a mood that just can't be understood but by the closest of friends... After letting yourself get played, how do you cope? I'm not really sure. I'm never really scared of anything, I don't really understand the concept of worrying, or freaking out. I'm more just pissed off. There's a high level of frustration. I feel like I'm in a dream that has something to do with control, but I'm not sure.
I found it necessary to drive on to the top floor of a twenty story parking garage and stand and stare for a while. I stared at the skyline, the moon, the sky where the stars should have been, and then I just thought. I thought and contemplated for what seemed like an eternity. Then I screamed. I screamed as loud and as long as I could. I screamed until I had no air left in my lungs and my face turned red. I thought this would make me feel better... and it did. So much in fact that I did it again. And again. And again. I felt like all of the emotions that I had held in for so long, all the times I let something slide, had just been released. For the first time in a long time I felt free(ish). Then I just sat there, exhausted. I sat on the cold, hard concrete, and felt relieved. All the thoughts of what did I do wrong, or should I have done something different, or what am I supposed to be, or feel, or see, or do, or think, or dream, were gone. And honestly, I would have stayed right there until the sun came up, and all the people started showing up for a job that they, more than likely, hated... but I really needed to take a poo (see all that screaming loosened up something inside of me that was already a little loose (poo.)) That's one way to ruin a moment.
I'd say it is definately an extremely rare event to hear a dozens songs in a row that are just perfect for your mood. But tonite was that night for me. I sat in the floor for about 2 hours listening to my Pandora (pandora.com we love you!) and I never once had to move to change the song. Not once in 2 hours. Is that amazing to anyone else but me? So I decided to list them, most of them. I feel like you deserve it. These songs arent downer songs. I am not in a downer mood. I was in a downer mood, but not now. I am relaxed, content, over it. For the most part. These songs made me feel better. Good lyrics. Good rhythm. Good everything.
1. It's Ok, by: Eric James and the New Century
2. The Believer, by: Rhett Miller
3. I Dare You, by: ShineDown
4. Drive Away, by: Keaton Simmons
5. We Used To Vacation, by: Cold War KidsUnique.
6. Digging a Ditch, by: Dave Matthews Band
7. When the Lights Go Up, by: Jon Auer
8. Hey Sister Pretty, by: Hootie and the Blowfish
9. Sherwood is a favorite of mine. I own two CD's and not a bad song on either.
10. Time, by: Hootie and the Blowfish I know what your thinking (no you don't) why the same band practically back to back? well it's worth it.
11. Nobody's Prize, by: Cravin Mellon
12. Can't Break Her, by: Mat Kearney
and the list goes on and on.
After drinking every night for a week, I think I'm going to take a break. You know, I never really got hammered drunk in the last week, just buzzed, and I enjoyed it. But my body is paying for it. I'm already fat, hairy, slightly impotent, balding, and soon will be walking with a limp and have at least one, possibly two, lazy eyes. I don't need to have to deal with all of the alcohol draining from my body. But this is "real summer."
What a night. What a week... right? School is done. Exams have came on gone. Another semester flies by. At the end do we look back and say what happened to the time? I did. I'm not sure what happened after christmas, or spring break, but suddenly here we are. People are beginning to say goodbye for the summer. Which is sad. Epsecially if they give you an awkwardly long hug and you know you may never see them again, but others go and you think that they can't stay gone long enough, but deep down you know that you are dying for them to come so you can hear about their summer and you can tell them about all the great things you wasted your time on. It's a beautiful circle.
On Wednesday, I was in the car with a friend when a random comment caused her to stop in mid-sentence, look me square in the eye (while driving, mind you), and say, "Do NOT say that again. That is NOT okay." Whatever the offending phrase was (I think it was the word "sneakles", which really isn't offensive at all when you get right down to it. Completely nonsensical, yes; offensive, not so much), it wasn't half as painful and awkward as the opening paragraph of the latest Bill Simmons column on ESPN. I'm one of those potentially misguided souls who genuinely enjoys Simmons' work and looks forward to his writing, but this scared the hell out of me:
"It's easy to discount the spiritual impact of basketball crowds if you haven't attended a playoff game with special fans before. There's no way to understand it unless it definitely has happened to you. Then you know. As strange as this sounds, it's like a woman being unable to tell whether she's ever had an orgasm. If she thinks it might have happened, or it felt like it kind of happened one time ... it didn't happen. When it happens, they know. Then they feel stupid for all the other times when they thought it had happened."
Bill, do NOT say that again. That is NOT okay. I understood what he was trying to say... but no. Bad Bill.
I feel like my one and only true relationship that actually is worth much comes from my music (excluding friends). I love my songs. This has been a rare night for me. I am in a mood that just can't be understood but by the closest of friends... After letting yourself get played, how do you cope? I'm not really sure. I'm never really scared of anything, I don't really understand the concept of worrying, or freaking out. I'm more just pissed off. There's a high level of frustration. I feel like I'm in a dream that has something to do with control, but I'm not sure.
I found it necessary to drive on to the top floor of a twenty story parking garage and stand and stare for a while. I stared at the skyline, the moon, the sky where the stars should have been, and then I just thought. I thought and contemplated for what seemed like an eternity. Then I screamed. I screamed as loud and as long as I could. I screamed until I had no air left in my lungs and my face turned red. I thought this would make me feel better... and it did. So much in fact that I did it again. And again. And again. I felt like all of the emotions that I had held in for so long, all the times I let something slide, had just been released. For the first time in a long time I felt free(ish). Then I just sat there, exhausted. I sat on the cold, hard concrete, and felt relieved. All the thoughts of what did I do wrong, or should I have done something different, or what am I supposed to be, or feel, or see, or do, or think, or dream, were gone. And honestly, I would have stayed right there until the sun came up, and all the people started showing up for a job that they, more than likely, hated... but I really needed to take a poo (see all that screaming loosened up something inside of me that was already a little loose (poo.)) That's one way to ruin a moment.
I'd say it is definately an extremely rare event to hear a dozens songs in a row that are just perfect for your mood. But tonite was that night for me. I sat in the floor for about 2 hours listening to my Pandora (pandora.com we love you!) and I never once had to move to change the song. Not once in 2 hours. Is that amazing to anyone else but me? So I decided to list them, most of them. I feel like you deserve it. These songs arent downer songs. I am not in a downer mood. I was in a downer mood, but not now. I am relaxed, content, over it. For the most part. These songs made me feel better. Good lyrics. Good rhythm. Good everything.
1. It's Ok, by: Eric James and the New Century
2. The Believer, by: Rhett Miller
3. I Dare You, by: ShineDown
4. Drive Away, by: Keaton Simmons
5. We Used To Vacation, by: Cold War KidsUnique.
6. Digging a Ditch, by: Dave Matthews Band
7. When the Lights Go Up, by: Jon Auer
8. Hey Sister Pretty, by: Hootie and the Blowfish
9. Sherwood is a favorite of mine. I own two CD's and not a bad song on either.
10. Time, by: Hootie and the Blowfish I know what your thinking (no you don't) why the same band practically back to back? well it's worth it.
11. Nobody's Prize, by: Cravin Mellon
12. Can't Break Her, by: Mat Kearney
and the list goes on and on.
After drinking every night for a week, I think I'm going to take a break. You know, I never really got hammered drunk in the last week, just buzzed, and I enjoyed it. But my body is paying for it. I'm already fat, hairy, slightly impotent, balding, and soon will be walking with a limp and have at least one, possibly two, lazy eyes. I don't need to have to deal with all of the alcohol draining from my body. But this is "real summer."
Real summer is lying in the bed of a pick up truck with your closest friends. Going to Maggie Moo's too late and getting free ice cream. Sitting on the kitchen counter and venting for two hours. Surprise visits at midnight. Strawberries. Driving home with your mom. Working. Drinking a beer. Saying goodbye. Missing it. Reading whatever you want to read. Unplanned lunch dates. Unplanned coffee dates. Unplanned plans that fall into place perfectly. Real summer is skirts and tank tops. Lazy evenings with nothing to do but work in the morning. Hours of conversation. Planning all of those plans we never follow through with. Family dinner--because really, no one should ever eat alone. Morning walks. Lunch time walks. Evening walks. Watching The Wonder Years.Real summer is here, but only for two weeks. And after that, surreal summer comes into play.
(thanks My Facebook Wife)
And how could it be said better than that. Summer is fun. Summer is swimming, and playing, and knowing that every single summer that by you get further and further away from your childhood, and your long lost loves and long lost friends. Summers are beautiful. It's a time to feel better about yourself, your world. A time to slow down and listen to the world around you. And that's what I need. Time to listen, to feel, to breathe, and scream. I need Summertime. Sweet summertime. I need to drive with my windows down, and not sweat the traffic jam i'm in. I need to lay in the yard. I need to play with my dog. I need to fish. I need campfires and marshmellows and graham crackers and chocolate bars. I need a couch on miller beach. I need outside movie nights. I need to talk until the sun comes up. I need care packages full of candy and inside jokes, and burnt CD's. I need late night, long distance phone calls about life, and love, and goats that chased me. I need roadtrips. I need music so loud that it hurts my ears. I need to pee on the side of the interstate. I need two flat tires and only one spare. I need a deep mudhole to drive in and play football in. I need friends and family. I need sand in my floorboard. I need homemade songs with bad acoustic guitars. I need to be so drunk that I swear I will never drink again, then do it again the next week. I need to ride my four wheeler. I need a god damned sun burn. I need bugspray. I need the 5 a.m. coffee game at homestead. I need stars to be my nightlights. I need baseball. I need themeparks. I need a pat on the back and hugs in the rain. I need to sleep til 3 in the afternoon and go to be at 3 in the morning. I need no liars, or backstabbers. I need no opinions. I need no criticism. I need no directions. I need no maps. I need to figure this out on my own. I need everything about real summertime...
posted by Brad at
12:51 AM
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