i'll run it up the flagpole, you'll salute, and we'll see if we can't get a few others to follow.

like the uncarved block, the blank spiral notebook, or the freshly stretched and unpainted canvas, this is probably better left untainted, unmolested. but, like many other things in my life, i'm here to fuck this up too.

i discovered this by chasing down the writing of one of the most talented people i know. one of the brightest, most astute, and clever people i've ever had the pleasure of hanging near writes here. i may link him up, but that would go against my better judgement, mostly because i have a tendency to write drunk, and jeez louise, i'm not here to embarrass anyone but myself. maybe i just yank this whole thing later when i get the nerve, maybe i turn this rope into a noose, maybe i confess all the things i don't say to anyone ever, or... or...

anyhoo, holiday time again, and it's during my long thanksgiving weekend that i traveled back to my hometown and by odd coincidence, connected with a few old friends, one of whom directed me to this site. 10 years. it's a long fuckin' time.

i used to be the baby. or, one of the babies anyway. long looking up to the cool kids, i wormed my way into their good graces, and they taught me all the basics, how to talk shit and still hold the upper hand, how to make an apple bong, how to use hair mousse and not look like a complete poser. i never learned that last lesson, but they were my crew, and even though they still teased my hair now and again, i always held them in high regard.

but things change, and now i'm the old fart. i've stuck around far too long in this creepy crappy scene, and i'm easily older than my coworkers and clients by 10 years. i still look like a kid from a distance, but stand close enough and you get the impression that i've been ridden hard and put away wet.

so fuck all that. it was good to feel like the kid again, get the good natured dutch rub, drink and eat heartily, and wander around the neighborhood in the cold night. aging is a bitch, i always imagined that i'd do it with style and ease, but my truth seems to indicate that it ain't easy no matter what you do. my knees hurt, i get winded walking up a flight of stairs, and i'm starting to develop the hipster/grover-from-sesame street body.

oh well, at least i never got a stupid tattoo.