The Bar is a Beautiful Place

No i'm not dead, not yet anyway, last week may have been a long and wicked week what with three trips to the ER with Nick Disaster, a few more doctor visits and one stop at an urgent care place but you know we came out the other side and maybe we'll have a week or two of relative peace and quiet, seems Nick Disaster had acquired another staph infection and he and i spent the last week bonding as only a two year old and his daddy can do and after our third visit to the ER on saturday he wouldn't even let his mother help, his daddy had to take his temp and lay with him and put cold clothes on his feverish little head (cuz on top of the infection he also caught a virus), if i left the room he'd start crying and so i spent that afternoon and evening laying with him and carrying him around the house and when he finally fell asleep i sat there and watched his little chest rise and fall and felt as if my heart had grown three sizes i love that little dude so much...

needless to say daddy needed a break and when i was offered a free hockey ticket by the Furious one for last nights game  i jumped at the chance to blow off some steam and so we drove into downtown and drank beer and smoked a joint and popped some pills all before the puck dropped, and inside we saw a great game, damn near a shutout until Montreal scored with a minute and a half left and we then  walked to the car and drove down to my favorite dive, you know the one with the great jukebox on some non-descript street in Polish Hill...

and damn if that bar isn't a beautiful place, a place i've been going to for damn near 17 years,  a place where i don't have to pay a cover if there are bands playing, a place where the staff treat me like royalty and the regulars all stand and shake my hand and say where you been and how you doing, a place where the young hipster kids all stare in awe as the bartender gives me cigarettes and never charges me for a drink, doesn't matter if i was there last night or haven't been there in six months the reception is always the same, i've poured my own beers at 4am and mopped the floors for fun all fucked up, a place where the old school ethics stand, in short a beautiful place.

and after a few hours of sleep 5:30am rolled around and i got out of bed and showered and blew the cobwebs off the brain, made some coffee and drove to work, i popped in this brilliant CD that Gulfboot had made of songs about drinking and being drunk and i drove through the misty morning and of course this song was on it and it brought me back to the night before and that brought a smile to my lips as i thought of just how fucking gorgeous life can be sometimes...

and not that anyone was wondering... but i'm getting that itch back to post some new stuff...