The problem with trance music, which really gets me going, is that it really gets me going.
Vicky has said that the people who drive near me must be very entertained. On top of the singing at the top of my lungs, when I have trance music in I can’t help dancing.
… in my car.
… at 75 miles per hour.
She probably thinks I’m something of a freak. (She’s too late, of course, Tim Murphy called me a “fucking freak” nearly 20 years ago!)
But I can’t help it! The music gets in my veins and I go crazy and then – CAR! I swear to me, I am not to be trusted behind the wheel of any car with trance music. Fortunately, I’m still young enough to switch between driving and dancing in a split second. Once I hit my 60’s… well, they’ll probably keep me out of public view for the dancing alone.
I’m not too worried about Vicky finding out, by the way. She won’t tolerate trance music within 700 yards of her. On top of that, she’s stopped reading the blog (let alone writing in it) so there’s no way she’ll read this. The problem isn’t that I’ve offended her or anything like that but that I write so fucking much! “It’s like a book every day! You ever think about just holding your thoughts inside sometimes??? You know why I get comments every time I post, don’t you?” This is a discussion we’ve had several times, which is to say she’s told me over and over again. She thinks she gets comments and I don’t because she waits for literally years before she posts a single sentence, whereas I’m posting on a nearly hourly basis. The way I figure, I’m the engine that drives that car that pulls the float that the princess rides upon.
But I won’t give her too much grief… not about that…
She gets enough from me in other ways.
When she went out and bought herself something, I complained that I never get to buy myself anything. “Fine,” she said. “Go. Buy yourself whatever you want.”
“Whatever you want” conveniently excludes jetpacks, pot, hookers, fireworks, magic mushrooms, superpowers, and four guys with musical instruments to follow me around playing my theme music… even if I buy them as a set.
But I have everything I need! When was the last time you heard that? I have all the video games I can play – hell, WoW pretty much covers that by itself. I have all the music I can listen to, for the most part. I have tons of DVDs, lots of books, otter pops, and a…. okay, wait. There’s one thing I can use – but Vicky will never hear about this because she doesn’t read the blog. Tomorrow night, Vicky, Jeff and I will be going to the OC Fair. (You can play “Where’s One Path?” at the Fair!) Jeff and I will be hanging out and I – the guy who has been good and has been jogging and has not been smoking – will be able to relax, drink a faux margarita, and enjoy some good tobacco! Cigarettes, baby! It’s not a regular thing, by far, but it is nice to enjoy a few on occasion. So, what can I, the man who has everything, use? Well, I know that Vicky’s going to lay some serious guilt on my doorstep to keep me from smoking; I could use some understanding on her part. It’s just one night. Give me a break!
(BTW, I’m down to 4 miles in less than 70 minutes.)
Recently, I’ve stopped buying stuff… but I haven’t stopped spending money.
“We should donate money to the Ecuadorian Indians,” I tell her.
”We should pledge some money for Jenn’s brother,” I say.
“And don’t forget the Earth Conservation Corps and the Environmental Defense Fund and Friends of the Earth and…”
And Vicky is in the unenviable position of saying, “Yes, but… rent?... food?... bills?”
“Oh, and I want tres leches cake!”
… Vicky accepts condolences in all denominations...