[282] Screed City
[282]
04/10/2024 Wednesday. Pool House Stool. Old Chatham, New York.
The work at G's school finally started. Don't know what to make of it. We are early, even though the work was supposed to start last Fall. It's been three days and all we have done is move some pipes from the back of a truck to a shipping container to the back of another truck and down some stairs and into a room covered in black paint dust. It has been excruciatingly boring. Like sleepwalking through the day kind of boring. As always lunch time is the best time of day. Eating burritos by myself while sitting in Junior Mint in the parking lot waiting to get in trouble by the security guards for being there. It's a very odd scene.
On the other hand it has been quite wonderful to see G. Hanging out after work, G driving around the town like a teenage chauffer. Going to horse lessons and driving lessons. Hearing all the gossip. Seeing them walking around on campus with their friends.
It has been an action packed few weeks. Went up to Bowdoin to have a screening of Professor Curly's movie. I got sick. Like really sick. I don't remember the last time I was that sick. I feel like I still haven't recovered. The second day we were on the campus I slept in the Real Estate Wagon while PC did class visits. Trying to figure out if we should get a hotel room for the night or go to Brother Luke's house and visit like we had planned. PC wasn't sick so I assumed I wasn't contagious, but I was so very exhausted I just wanted to sleep. In the end we did go to Portland. Stayed for two nights. The second day Sister Lauren woke up with a sore throat. Little Lolo had pink eye. Not my fault. And I never had a sore throat, so I think things were just going around. I hope. I also feel guilty about it. The last time we all hung out there when Pegleg came out I got Brother Luke sick with the covid as well as Buttcheek. I don't mean to be a bad guest, I guess I can't help it.
After Portland we drove over to New Ham with the idea that we would pick up Junior Mint from Paddington, she had borrowed the car because her transmission went out, but then she locked herself inside the car and didn't like it so much so we had to go get it. The idea was that she was also going to come down to Aunt Dianne's for Easter, but she got sick herself and ditched.
When we got to Boston and parked on the very steep hill in front of Aunt Dianne's house, I turned my tires into the gutter in case my breaks failed. I have been worried about my tires for quite some time. Not sure if it was worth spending $800 on new ones when I am not sure how much longer Junior Mint is going to be around, but then Brother Charley called me after reading the screed I did about having a loose tooth and convinced me that buying new tires was a good and proper investment. When I turned my tires into the curb I noticed that the front right tire was this close to blowing out. It was not pretty. Suddenly I was calling around town on Easter morning looking for a tire shop that was open. I found one that only took cash. I mean, it was sketchy as hell, but I do have brand new tires. Which, if you were worried about G driving my car around, you don't need to worry. And the car is basically a couch on wheels anyway. With airbags.
The Easter party at Aunt Dianne's was fantastic. Great people, great food, great times. At one point we were sitting around eating breakfast the day after talking about asshole famous people when someone asked, "Who is the biggest famous asshole?" I said, "Hitler." Someone said, "He wasn't so bad." I said, "Oh, yeah?" Two people said in tandem, "He liked dogs." It was a joke, of course. Like it was almost rehearsed. I don't know, I think everyone involved aside from me was Jewish, so it wasn't in exactly the poorest of taste. But I think when they were asking about famous assholes they were talking about Hollywood, not famous assholes in history.
The reading went well. The hot dog roller was a hit. I bought 72 hot dogs for the night and 72 hot dogs got eaten. People seem to love Percolator. Rambona's dad calls it a, "Literary Beavis and Butthead." I was going for a hilarious, modern, Waiting for Godot, but literary Beavis and Butthead will do. Same difference.
I watched the eclipse in the parking lot of a Hannaford's in Troy, eating peanuts and sneaking side eyed glances through the black spot above the rearview mirror on my windshield. Funny that I had every plan in the world to get somewhere with totality but in the end I couldn't figure it out because I had to work even though the work was pointless and just a whole lot of waiting around. I really need to get a job. I am heading down to Florida in a couple weeks to do some cruise ship set building with Scott and Dirty. Which will be worth it. And because there are planes and travel and deadlines involved the work isn't going to be cancelled last minute, thank Jesus and his clogged cave.
Alright, I need to haul ass to bed. 5a comes real quick around these parts. I hit a bird yesterday on my way into town. At the same place that I got stuck behind that eagle carrying that stinky carcass last year. Remember that? I do. I will try to write more I promise. Keith Ridgeway stopped sending out his newsletter. That goon. What was it that C. Bukowski once said? [I figure if I write his name that way I won't trigger any fallout haha! C. Bukowski, who is that? Must be one of those new DEI woke commie CRT bastards we keep hearing about. Good for him? her? them?] Endurance is more important than truth.
If a lie can outlast the truth, the lie becomes the truth.
Jesus said that on Trans visibility day, fyi. After he peeled the scab from that cave of his.
[Insert work photo]