Waiting for Superman





On the eve of my 43rd anniversary of existence...

This song fucking gets me man, every time, Wayne Coyne wrote it for his father when he was dying and if you've been around these parts long enough you know that me and my old man are tight, fucking thick as thieves, and you know sometimes i wonder what i did to deserve a guy like that because i'm sure i've caused him nothing but worry, i mean he was one of the only people who maybe understood my walk into the wilderness, understood that his kid was gonna do whatever he was gonna do and do it his way regardless of how stupid or dangerous that may be, hell i didn't tell him alot about some of the things i did but the old man is nothing if not smart and he had a pretty good idea that his kid wasn't on the up and up and even when he didn't hear from me for long stretches he'd laugh and say " as long as i don't get a call from jail or the morgue i figure you must be alright." 

You see the old man is like a legend among my friends, we've crashed on his floor and drank his beer and bummed his cigarettes, actually he bought us the beer cuz he doesn't drink much, he does smoke though and since he's been doing it for over 50 years now i guess it's his son's turn to worry but me and the old man have this understanding, it's one that i guess few fathers and sons have and i'm hoping i can have it with the boyos cuz i don't know how many times i've had friends tell me they wished their relationship with their father was like the one i have with mine, we talked on the phone for over 2 hours today and would have kept talking except i had to get Nick Disaster from school and i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, the old man is doing alright as he approaches his seventh decade but he lives alone and smokes to many cigs and probably doesn't eat all that healthy but who am i to say shit? he didn't say shit to me when i was ramming powder into my face or drinking myself senseless, i mean he may have mentioned it but in a way that said i was old enough to make my own decisions and that those decisions come with consequences, sometimes he just said it was my job to bury him and not the other way around...

And what does this have to do with my 43 anniversary of existence? well nothing really i just felt like writing about my dad, cuz i love my old man, no other reason than that...

And so now it's on the rest of the year...

it's now late and i've watched da USA qualify for the World Cup and i'm ripping drunk and quite high on certain things and well fuck i' don't really feel like writing much anymore, hell i thought about it but i just want to bask in the glow of qualification and drink the rest of my beer and so maybe the rest of this post will get written tomorrow, maybe not, i don't do much lately except indulge my bad habits when all is quiet here on the western front and sometimes those bad habits are nothing more than perusing vinyl i'd like to own and sometimes they are bit more detrimental to my existence or what not but for now i will bid adieu to whoever may be out there in this wide world of 1's and 0's cuz now it's time to kill this beer and have a bowl of Rice Krispies and listen to this beautiful song one more time...