After I dropped my stepsons off at school, I got myself a Sausage Egg McMuffin & a Shamrock Mocha, because 3/17 always reminds me that my body is a temple. With a big, fat, pre-diabetic Buddha in the middle of it.
Sláintè from Clans Rooney & Gillan, and please stay safe. Also, it ain’t just about the drinkin’. It’s about the fightin’, too. Please remember this as you dress up like Alcoholic Green Lantern, then piss yourself by 5pm. F’n amateurs. #PogMaThoin
Once upon a time, my 20-something passion for new & live music surpassed my 40-something passion for naps.
One of my enduring memories of my early 20’s was working the 7-to-midnight shift at WIQB in Ann Arbor. A typical night would see me there past midnight, chatting with my on-air replacement or finishing production, before hitting a hole-in-the-wall bar near my Ypsilanti apartment.
But every now and then, I’d play my first ad around 11:50 pm, immediately badgering my relief, “You got it, man? I gotta bounce,” with the intent of catching the last half of a band’s show at one of Ann Arbor’s local venues.
The overwhelming majority of those shows were at the Blind Pig on First Street.
http://www.mlive.com/news/ann-arbor/index.ssf/2017/02/blind_pig_for_sale.html
That property has been speculated to be up for sale for some time now. I haven’t caught a show there in many years, as I’ve lived an hour or more away, and most of Metro Detroit’s live music venues are within 30 minutes of my house. It doesn’t help that I’m now also a homebody with an earlier bedtime. It also doesn’t help that I don’t drink nearly as much as I used to.
Still, one more touchstone of my youth appears to be on the verge of vanishing. I felt the need to conjure what memories of my 20’s weren’t lost to Canadian lager and Irish whiskey. A happy time with happy ears, a happy liver and a happy, lion-like mane of hair.
Au revoir, Blind Pig & the 8-Ball. Thanks for the memories.
Some thoughts while watching the MTP 8pm replay:
I like Chuck Todd a lot, but I’ll always miss Tim Russert.
I am amazed at how willing Reince is willing to fall on the sword. Then again, I said he’d be out as RNC Chair by March. I guess he knows how his bread is buttered now.
I’m glad to see that John McCain is back to being John McCain again. Better late than never.
Must share…
My wife swears she heard that Mike Pence’s Secret Service codename is “Underwood.” Please let this be true……
Which part of Trump’s repeated bullshit electoral college claims should I be more amused by: That it was “the biggest since Reagan ’84,”or that his actual electoral vote count keeps changing?
Time for popcorn & the Walking Dead!
One of my friends has to be good with calculus. Here’s your math problem:
True or false: (Chance of my duration in a given store being extended beyond the norm) = (Stereo in store is playing Pink Floyd “On The Turning Away”)
Discuss.
I had that moment again today, that moment of “Y’know, as much as I like Twitter, there’s so many times I’d like to exceed 140 characters.” Today I chose to act on this impulse and went to WordPress, only to discover that there was already a WordPress account under my email address.
Because I’d already started a WordPress account. Which I hadn’t logged into for about three years. OK then.
Now I’m officially back to posting with reckless aplomb and a complete disregard for how many characters I use. This really is liberating, like the social media version of “going commando.”
[LONG PAUSE]
I think I just remembered one of the reasons why I stopped using WordPress.
Oh well, can’t put this genie back in the bottle now, huh?
Permanently Grumpy (A Blog) 