Lessons learned while in absentia

Hello to all my rabid fans. And a special "hello" to all of Wifey's co-workers. Especially you. No, not you, HER. Yeah...

Okay, I have been gone for awhile, and my last collection of posts were more stolen clips from my latest obsession, YouTube. YouTube is the bestest ever, for now. But I want to make up for that. Let me begin by saying on the record for anyone who goes to a concert that if you are far enough away that unless you look at the jumbotron screen you can't tell which little blob of moving colors is the singer and which is the roadie, no matter how loud you yell out your request for your favorite song they are not going to hear you. Specifically I am speaking to the moron who was directly behind me at the Jimmy Buffet concert last week, which Wifey and I lucked into tickets for from our good friend Par For the Course (herewith known as Par). It was a VERY hot day/night, the car almost overheated while waiting to get into the lot at the Nissan Pavillion (note to whomever runs that damn place - you need more access roads so that people do not spend over an hour waiting at a traffic light. NOT an exaggeration), so we had to spend the last 45 minutes in 100+ weather with the windows down and the heat on high. Also, a quick sidebar to the security at Nissan Pavillion. COMMUNICATE WITH EACH OTHER!!! I wasn't expecting to drive there when we left to meet up with Par and friend (who I need to think of a good nickname for), and that combined with the almost 2 hours it took idling in traffic to get to park caused me to all but run out of gas. So we made the decision that we would wait until EVERYONE else left before we rolled out so that we would not completely run out of gas trying to leave. Again it is no exxageration to say that 10 different groups of security and local police came over to tell us that we needed to start moving out. Each time the situation was explained to them. Most were cool, one offered to let us stay at his place for $150 a night (I think he was joking, but Par had her flirt on, so I was getting ready to attempt to trade a night with her for a night of sleeping in air conditioned comfort somewhere in Virginia, and I had talked him into a nice breakfast spread when he pulled the offer from the table and left us still sweating and dangerously low on petrol. And as far as the (I am assuming) bull dyke lesbian on the atv, telling us we need to plan better next time was condescending and bitchy. Now that I am not covered in sweat and dust and bogged down with exhaustion, it is funny. But that night, you were a c%&*, and I want you to know that.

Now, back to the guy behind me at the concert. I have a couple of things to say to him. First, you are not intimate friends with Mr. Buffet. I would venture to say that it is a pretty safe bet that you have never met the man. So shouting "Hey Jimmy!" like you just saw an old friend on the other side of the street will do no good. Also, there are almost 50,000 people there. They are singing and dancing and having conversations amongst themselves. There is a band playing. This band is amplified to be loud enough to be heard from the back lot of the facility, let alone for those people in the pavillion seating, or, like us, out on the lawn. Why do I say all of this? Because you need to understand that shouting "Hey Jimmy! Pencil Thin Jimmy!" is going to accomplish naught but to make me want to turn around and punch you until your mouth no longer works. Really. Shut. Up. Now. And to the people who were sitting in the rented lawn chairs who started to complain when my gaggle of friends and myself moved into the open spot in front of them on the lawn, blocking their view...YOU ARE ON THE LAWN AT A FRAGGIN' CONCERT!!!!! Of the 30,000 or so people in the lawn area, 25,000 of them are standing. If seeing the little colorful Rorshack tests is so damned important to you, get there early enough to get a seat at the front of the lawn, or pony up the extra money for pavillion seats. Either way, at an open air concert you are not allowed to complain about the view. Finally, to that one couple sitting about 15-20 feet behind us, if there is a God, the outfits you two were wearing will be outlawed for people like you. There is a reason I don't wear Speedos. There is a reason you should not have been wearing those clothes. It goes against the natural order of the universe, and it is not fair to the molecules that make the clothes that your body was trying to reject like a failed kidney transplant had to strain so hard to retain their molecular structure. During a quiet moment in between songs, I am pretty sure I heard the universe tearing, however miniscule the battle was. Atlas may have shrugged, but right now there are spandexes all over the world begging you for amnesty. If I see you again in a similar outfit, I am sending you to the Hague for crimes against humanity.

Also, after a glorious 4 week sabbatical, JJ is back on the same day that I am back (I have taken some time off lately because I have been really run down and my body was telling me it was sick so that I would rest. Now I hope I am charged up enough to get me through the holiday season at Target, after which I will go down for some of my fateful OdinSleep. But even so, it was a lovely month of not seeing (or more importantly HEARING) her. And Lord, it didn't take long.

When I am eating, I am not one for idle chat, and that is if I like you. If I don't...well leave it to JJ to wait until I am eating a hard boiled egg to come over and do the old "lean on your cubicle wall and embed myself for chat time" move. What makes her think THIS is a good time to shoot the breeze? While I chew? "I KNEW somebody had eggs! they have that distinctive smell, you know? Kind of like feet. So how have you been sir? Did you miss me? Were you out sick or on vacation? I haven't seen you lately when I was here. You know I just got back from vacation. [Insert Husband's name here] and I went camping in the Adirondaks. You know it is the wildest thing, we can't get our wi-fi connection up there, but we move 15 feet up the mountain and we had a connection and cell phone service. Isn't that amazing?..."

[BSR chews his egg and wonders if this will be the moment that he will actually have to stab her with his letter opener and make a break for it while she follows behind saying "Sarah Connor?"]

I did not actually write down what she was saying word for word, but that is probably 95% accurate as far as quoting goes. And that is close enough for me. And yes, she talked about how eggs smell like feet to her WHILE I WAS EATING AN EGG. Still, I stuck with my usual monosyllabic answers and she wandered off in search of someone else to make wish they were dead. Thank God for the Jamacian Hen. She seems to enjoy asking JJ a question from time to time. And while hearing her prattle on in the background of my life is annoying, it beats her prattling on to ME by 100fold.

Okay, I need to go to lunch and get away fro a while. She leaves in a few hours, so if I can just make it until about 4. We'll see.

BSR