Another Day at The Beach

Today was busy beyond busy. We went to the Riverside Arts Market, which is a fancy word for swap meet, this morning. It was fun, and a friend who lives in Valdosta, TF, was in town with her two daughters. There were arts and crafts, fruits and vegetables vendors, a grandmother belly dancing, and some ethnic food vendors – basically boring, boring, ahhhh make it stop, and I’m in. I’ve been on a trying new food kick and there was a British food booth. They were giving away free samples of shepherd’s pie, which I had no use for. I grew up on it. I wanted the food that conquered the world by way of dysentery. I paid $6 for a steak and kidney pie because it was the only thing they were serving that included an organ meat. They sold it cold so I had to wait until we got home to heat it up in the toaster oven. I was expecting some strong flavors, something metallic, something harsh, something that would let me know I was eating a cow’s poison filter. I even bought some beer to specifically wash down the shock and awe. I got a boring pot pie. I took huge mouthfuls from the center and the only part that was remarkable was the halfway decent pastry. While I was expanding my food experience LMJ was taking a three hour nap, and as soon as she woke up we went to the beach and hung out with TF. It was a little bit cooler today than it was yesterday, but everyone was a trooper. LMJ had a blast playing with TF’s older daughters; one is eight, MF, the other is five, LF. They dug in the sand and played with some paddle things, which I think is a law, and the highlight of the day, they played soccer. I was so impressed with how LMJ dove right into everything. She’s not intimidated by bigger kids at all, which I always forget. She kicked the ball with everyone, until she saw the huge hole in the sand left by some other people – big beach no, no. I wouldn’t let her jump into it, so she decided she would pick up the ball and throw it in the hole. I didn’t necessarily want to steer her towards soccer because everyone does that, but I think she might be a natural goalie. Today was jam packed from beginning to end, but seeing friends from out of town and spending time at the beach is worth it.

This Is A Cheery Post or See What Happens When I Can't Fit In A Workout?

I have lunch with a group on alternating Thursdays, and today was a lunch day. I love these days because I get to eat at one of my favorite spots, European Street. I think they’re the best sandwich shops in Jacksonville. I also enjoy hanging out with this group, which consists, mostly, of old white Southern men. The group started with my dad and these men, I think as a vestry committee, almost fifteen years ago. I’m not really sure, but I know it had something to do with church. I know that’s where they met each other. I’ve been part of the group for about ten or twelve years. Members come and go, and the group will get as large as ten, but there are two real mainstays, John and Bill. John is a curmudgeon with a heart of gold who desperately wants to have an open mind. That’s the best way I can describe him. Bill is just a sweet, sweet man. When I first started eating with them Bill was in his mid sixties and John was in his late fifties. Now Bill is in his late seventies and John is in his early seventies. They’re getting old, or more precisely, they’ve gotten old. John is recovering from a heart attack and triple bypass surgery he had about a month ago, and hasn’t been able to join us. Bill had to cancel two weeks ago because of some type of medical issue, and when I saw him today I noticed that his handshake was weak. Their minds are sharp but their bodies are failing them, and it’s freaking me out. My Thursday lunches are going to change. They already have. John has chosen me as his successor. I now organize when everybody gets together. John is a self-made millionaire through hard work and saving, so I understand where he's coming from politically. He’s a conservative cut from the “I’ll take care of me and you take care of you and everything will be fine” cloth, yet he spends three days a week delivering meals on wheels. He’s a Republican who’s disillusioned by the petty cowardice and stupidity of his party, but he’s friends with younger Republicans who aren’t as thoughtful as he is. And I’m finding it hard to invite them to what is becoming my lunch. Bill is a guy who truly just wants to be a good Christian, and has spent his life evolving from his experiences. They’re two true mavericks. They were Southern Republicans before 1980. I hate that John’s and Bill’s funerals aren’t abstractions in my long term thinking anymore. I'm moving out of the phase of life where I think, wow it’s going to be weird when so and so dies, and into the phase where I’m terrified that oh s**t these people are going to be gone soon. Merry Christmas everyone.

The Distillation and/or Concentration of Social Abnormalities in The 21st Century.

Nothing happened today. I went to work. I came home. My head is starting to clear, but I didn’t run (at least not yet). I didn’t go to Georgia to get my malt liquor because my wife wouldn’t let me (hater in da house). So I was stuck for something to write about, and then I signed on to Facebook and had an epiphany. High school graduation is the peak of maturity – and bone density, but that’s another story. We continue to be shaped by our experiences after high school, but our personalities are done. Think about it. Is there anyone from your high school that you knew that you’ve changed your opinion about? Is there anyone from your high school that was boring or self-centered that isn’t now? I know I’ve mellowed, but I’m still the same jackass I was in 1988. I’m basically – we’re all basically – scotch. I hang out with most of the people I liked in high school, and the people I have friended on Facebook from high school that I don’t hang out with I’m remembering why I didn’t hang out with them in high school. I would think that it was just me, stuck in a Rico Dynamite vicious circle of not being able to let go of the past, but the stuff that makes these people dorks now is the same stuff that made them dorks twenty years ago. I was caught up in a friendnado a month or two ago and added about forty friends in the span of three weeks. I thought it would be a good idea if we could all get together for dinner to reminisce. Fortunately, I’m not dumb enough to need Twitter and came to my senses before I started making reservations. I didn’t go to my high school reunions for a reason. I have connected to about ten people that I hadn’t seen since the ‘80’s that I would like to see. I have about ten friends on Facebook that I hang out with in real life. That leaves sixty people I’ve (re)connected with that I kinda wish I hadn’t. And two who I need to keep tabs on because the wheels are going to come off at some point, and I really want a front row seat. Yes, that’s juvenile, but I just explained how I stopped growing when I was eighteen. I think Facebook can be a good thing, but like everything else in the world today, people are overdoing it. Having 1100 friends doesn’t mean people like you. It means they don’t know that you can’t tell when they’ve ignored your friend request. But now I do. And not only am I going to de or unfriend you. I’m going to blog about it behind your back. Go Robert E. Lee fightin’ Generals!!! Class of ’88 MF’ers.