Stray thoughts: 7/9/2017

I had another one of those
strange cinematic dreams last night. Thankfully, I feel like I’ve got enough to
sit down and bang away on this keyboard
for a bit.

It started out, I was in my parents’
house, in the living room right as you walk in the door. I was in a big comfy
crushed velvet chair that didn’t exist in the house when it was ours. Given,
there was a dark brown crushed velvet sectional and couch in that room way back
when, but the chair that came with it was given to my grandparents for some
strange reason. This wasn’t that chair, this chair had huge arms that you sunk
down into. It was comfortable.  I was
sitting there with a book (unknown) watch a huge flat screen on the wall (that
also didn’t exist back then). I heard someone coming down the steps.

It was Sarah Hyland, from the
show “Modern Family” she walking down the steps. She’s wearing a pair of mesh
basketball shorts and an old “shimmel shirt” (the half cut off shirts worn under
shoulder pads in football). She wore it far better than I did. She walked over
and lifted the shirt, showing off her perky little breasts and all I could do
was smile not fully knowing what was going on. 

I went back to the book and
drifted. I woke up and it was the middle of the afternoon. I opened the door
and Sarah was nowhere to be seen. I get in the car, one my dad’s old ones(it was if every car my family ever owned dating from an early 70′s Toyota Corona to my ‘84 CRX to my current car was in the drive/side of the yard) and
leave. I’m driving down the road, and it’s like the road is towel or a sheet
and two people are shaking it, fluffing it like it’s fresh out of the dryer. With
each wave, the car flies forward. I pull into the high school gymnasium and I’m
instantly playing a I a 3 on 3 basketball game.

One of my high school friends is
on my team and so is the science teacher from the movie “Fast Times at
Ridgemont High”. I scan the bleachers looking for Phoebe Cates, she’s not
there. Neither is Sarah.  We are playing
against Julian Edelman, Danny Amendola and some guy I didn’t know. On the other
end of the court, Roy Williams was overseeing Tyler Hansbrough and two other
guys wearing Tar Heel gear going off on 3 guys that went to a rival high school.

I was enjoying giving Edelman a
few hip checks. Nobody was guarding Mr. Vargas so I gave him a bounce pass that
he reacted to about 8 seconds too late and I remember yelling at him and he
looked confused, why he was wearing his lab coat over his tank/shorts, I have
no clue.  Each time I got close to
Edelman I’d foul him. Foul him hard.  He
was starting to do that Patriot whine. He finally quit and walked off the court
cursing at me when he took a final elbow to the grill that knocked out two
teeth.

I blink and I’m back in the old
Turbo Diesel heading home, back riding those melting waves of roads. I pull in,
park, go inside. I hear the shower running upstairs and I’m still sweaty from
the game so I go up, Open the bathroom and Sarah is showering, I step in and
she vanishes.  It wasn’t the shower from
the house but like a smaller high school shower with 3-4 shower heads instead
of the normal 8-12, but I was alone. So, I went over and the cut the other
three shower heads on as hot as they would go and let the bathroom steam up. I
shower, feel refreshed and cut the water off, dry off get dressed and the house
is still empty.

I go out looking for a bite to eat
and I run into two more Hollywood stars arguing in the parking lot at the local
hang out. Julie Bowen (also from Modern Family) and Jim O’Heir (Jerry/Garry
from Parks and Recreation) are yelling at each other about whose car hit the
other as they were both backing out.  I
shook my head like a confused puppy and walked in and ordered the Double Chef,
large fries and a banana milk shake.

I go back home and Julie Bowen is
sitting at the bar in our kitchen. She’s talking to one of my friend’s mothers.
She asked me “did you see the wreck?” and I said “no, you were both fussing
when I pulled in”.  Then she says “That
damned Jerry”, like she was on the set of “Parks and Rec” as opposed to calling
him Jim.  I laughed at the comment but
the friend’s mom looked dumbfounded. It went right over her head.

I get back in the car and the roads
are still floating a bit, but a little bit more mellow. I come up to an
intersection and it’s as if my car just vanished. One of my old football
coaches was standing there, the one with the long hair that became more of a
friend than an old football coach. He was standing there with two of my friends
and I was like “what’s going on?”.  We
walk out of the road and immediately into the auditorium at the high school. It’s
dark, but the stage is lit up. Just the four of us standing there but there is
a news crew down at the bottom below the stage. The coach said, “they want to
talk to us about what we saw on the boat”. I was like “okay whatever.”  Then I’m like what boat?  

My coach then says you don’t
remember going on a boat with Julie Bowen, the Hollywood actress?   I said, “no, I remember getting into a
shower with Sarah Hyland, her Hollywood daughter and she vanished”. One of my friends
said, “sure you did, that’s a good one.”
I gave him, “I can break you in half stare” and said “what about this
boat?”

The four of us sat in the back
row of the auditorium, then, a waitress brought us four beers. The coach stared
to explain the story and I started to remember. I said “no, I wasn’t on the
boat with her, I saw her dragging this big bag on to a boat and while it took
her quite some time to accomplish, she was determined, and she sped off. I
said, “outside of seeing them argue in the Chef’s parking lot and her asking if
I saw it, I have no clue about it”.

The newscaster waves us down and
she asks, “Can I interview you about the two missing Hollywood stars?” I said, “No”
and she looked disappointed. It was like I knew her. Maybe a younger sister of
someone I once knew, but I couldn’t place her. We turned to leave walking up
the aisle and back out the door stepping into the road.  The Turbo Diesel was pulled off to the side as
were their cars.   We exchanged goodbyes, and I got in the car
and headed up 21, to take a drive in the mountains. As the road was about to
shift from 4 lanes to 2 I noticed a town Police car closing in on me.

Two lanes
and blue lights are in my rear view. I’m thinking, “I’m hoping this is Pete
with another joke”.  It wasn’t. It was
this young hot head jerk of a cop that though he was the shit way back when.  He had aged some progressed up the ranks. He
asked me for my license and registration, and I handed them to him. “Long time
no see”, he says and then “I need you to get out of the car”. As I was getting
out, I asked, “Officer what is this about?” and he’s like “First of all it’s Sargent
and you know damned well what this is about.”
You might be a witness to a crime or you might have committed a crime,
our detectives want to talk to you. I didn’t like the guy so I felt it was appropriate
to be a bit of a smart ass. I said, “you forget ‘secondly’”. He was like “What
the fuck are you talking about?”, I said, “You said ‘First of all it’s Sargent’”,
you then should have said, “Secondly, you know damned well what this is about”,
he said, “you always were a smart ass.”  

He calls in on his radio, in some
Rosco P. Coltrane jive talk to let them know I was stopped and that they were
sending back up. I asked him, “Can I drive to the station and you follow me?”
and he said, yeah but let’s wait for an escort.” A few minutes later Ole Pete
pulls up. He gets out and shakes my hand and says “Have you heard the one about
the….. it trails off all of his corny jokes were the same….  I swear he used to pull us over to tell us a
joke, or likely to keep a good eye on us. One of the small world stories,
before my parents moved to what became my hometown, their next door neighbor an
hour or  away was Pete’s brother.

Sgt. Dickhead is leading the way,
and Pete is following me. We get to the station and I see the Chief, father of
an old teammate, but he wasn’t a fan of mine, since I used to like to speed and
they never could quite catch me. We go in and sit down and they ask, “How do
you know Julie Bowen”?  I say, “she’s
Claire from “Modern Family”, I think she was on “Boston Legal”, but I don’t
recall her name on it”. “Cut the shit”, Sgt Dickhead said, we are well aware of
her filmography.  “I said, look you asked
a question, I answered. I don’t know her. I know who she is, but I don’t know
her and filmography is a big word for you, good job.”  They asked about the bump up. I explained
what I saw. They asked why she was at my house and I said that “Bertha (the
friend’s mom) was at the Chef and was talking to her and told her she knew
where I lived, and they were there when I got home”. I explained to her that I
didn’t see the actual accident, and that she was dragging this big bag onto a
boat, but I haven’t seen her since. 

I asked if I can leave and the
Chief said “no, you are being held on outstanding speeding tickets”. I got loud
in saying, “what bullshit speeding tickets”, he opened his desk drawer, pulled
out a folder and handed me 5-6 speeding tickets that were still in-tact, all
the copies were there. I flipped through them. ’88, ’88, ’89, ’89, ‘89 ’90. I
said “these are bullshit and you know it”. “We will let the DA decide that”.   “Do I get to make a call?”, I asked and he
said sure we will let you make a call. So, I called home.  The answering machine came on and I left a
message, knowing it was a waste of time.  I sit there thinking, I should just rip these
fake ass tickets up, but then I knew they’d try to charge me with “Destroying
evidence”, so I sat and waited.  Then ole
Woody came back and said “you are free to go”.

I walk out and Sarah Hyland is
standing there, dressed in jeans, a faded light blue UCLA t-shirt a pair of Wayfarers
and a Dodgers hat tucked down on her head.  We stopped at her rental in the parking lot,
grabbed three bags from the trunk and threw them in the back of the Turbo
Diesel and was driving out of town. I saw Edelman at the gas station, hit the
horn and waved good bye with a one finger salute. I was pulling on the
interstate, turned to my right and I was alone and that is when I started to
wake up.

Stray thoughts from a warped mind.

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A brief peek into what my mind feels like at times with things going in so many different directions.

Stray Thoughts: 4/29/2017

It’s funny, how a simple little mention of something can
take you back to a funny story. This goes back to the early 90’s and eating
lunch with a friend at this little hole in the wall cafe not too far from where
I grew up.

The place was only open for breakfast and lunch and both were normally good.
Now my prices might not be 100% accurate, but then again it has been
twenty-five years or so(I’m not even certain if it’s still open, it didn’t have a Yelp.com page). From what I can remember a hot dog was $1.00, a chili dog
was .85 and a cheeseburger was about $1.50. Like I said, I could be off, but the
price doesn’t necessarily matter.

I ordered a double cheeseburger, fries and a Pepsi-Cola. My
friend ordered 2 chili dogs, fries and likely a Pepsi-Cola as well.   We were just sitting there shooting the shit
and waiting on our food.

The waitress(mid-50’s), brings the food over to us and asks if she can
get us anything else; I asked for ketchup and pepper. Evidently we were
early for lunch and they hadn’t got everything back out on the tables yet. She
brought it and was turning to walk back to the counter/kitchen and my friend
took a bite out of his chili dog and loses it. “What the fuck is
this?” he says a bit louder than normal. The 4-5 guys at the counter all
turn and look, and the waitress comes bouncing back to the table asking what’s
wrong. “This hot dog ain’t got no God Damn wiener.” She looks at him
dumbfounded and perturbed likely  at his use of foul language. “B bu but sir, you
ordered chili dogs”, she told him and his confused look continued.
“Yeah because I wanted chili on my hot dog”, he explained, still being a
bit louder than normal. I’m laughing and trying to hold it together. She
explains to him. “Chili dogs are just chili in the bun, a hot dog has the wiener,
if you want chili you just have to ask for it.” This has stumped him and
he asked, “why call it a dog without the wiener?”  All she could say was “that is how it is.” At this point I’m
waiting for Mel to call her a “Dingy”, or for another waitress to
throw out a “kiss my grits”.

She took his plate back and added two wieners to the bun and
brought it back. He ate it.  We went up
to pay and they charged him for the two chili dogs for any confusion, and he
looked over at the guys sitting there and one of them said “Ain’t that
some shit, I’ve never ordered a chili dog here and now I know not to”. He looked at him and said “I won’t do it again.”, everyone laughed.

We each left and went our own way but it’s a pretty funny
story to recall.  The moral to the story is don’t order something without knowing 100% what it is. 

Stray thoughts
4/25/2017: 

My brain was
active last night. I can recall parts of three dreams. Maybe that’s why I feel
sluggish and am in need of more coffee.

Old Friends
and Good Times

This is the one that I
feel like I recall the least part of, which is unfortunate since it seemed like
the best of the triple feature. It seemed like modern day at an old watering
hole(that is no longer in doing business as the same place). I’m not even sure
what it’s like on the inside of the building at this point but it’s still
there.

We were just sitting
around watching a game, drinking some cold beer and I guess simply being around
each other. Nothing substantial came from it.

Mini-Nightmare

This is the odd one. It
was as if I was living in my parents old house and it was like I forgot that I had
two dogs(which would never happen), and I needed to feed them. I couldn’t place the dogs, but when I went
up to where they were, which was in the “sitting room”(I didn’t name
it), off of my parents bedroom which connected their bedroom to their master bath.

When I got up there it was the two dogs I previously had who unfortunately are
only in my memories. I asked them what they wanted to eat, and it’s not like
they responded, but they were happy it was dinner time. For whatever strange
reason I put a small pizza down for the smaller dog, a pug and then the bigger
one more of a mix(American Bulldog/Some form of Mastiff) came over and wanted
some and aggressively was taking it away from him and I woke up scared to
death. Just a fucked up dream. The two pups never knew each other, and the bigger
one was never around another animal, but I can’t imagine him acting that way.
Just a fucked up dream that I hate even typing it out. 

At that point I felt around for the remote and put it back on “Parks and Recreation”  and grabbed my tablet to read some more “Raylan”.  

Get Out Of My
GD Head

While dream
two goes down as the nightmare because it involved animals I loved, this one
goes down as more similar to  my repetitive Crash Davis dream starring someone else. Someone equally bad to dream about.  This one is the one that
pissed me off and I guess forced me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. 

I won’t go
into details, but I really wish I would stop having them. Wish I could serve an
eviction notice to that part of my brain. Maybe all I need is some clippers, a mirror,
a scalpel, a drill and  wood burning kit.
I’m set right? That should do the trick. 

Stray thoughts: 4/22/2017

I remember a few years ago I was about 8 cars deep in a line to
exit a shopping center when I saw what I assumed to be a teenage girl(I guess she could have been in her 20′s but she looked young) driving a
mid 80’s Honda Prelude. It was summer, it was hot and she had her windows down
and you could see her white knuckles with her hands on the steering wheel and
that her cheeks were red. She was up in the seat  and very determined looking.  The only problem was her poor old car was
smoking like crazy, but that wasn’t going to stop her. I have no clue where she
was headed, I simply thought to myself I hope she gets there.

I turned right on my way home and was approaching my left
turn  about a mile and a half away from
the Target shopping center that I was coming from and I saw more smoke. The
poor girl’s car was off on the right hand side of the road with someone in
behind her and they were looking at it and the guy was on the phone either
calling 911 or a wrecker. I knew she wasn’t going to make it very far with the
way it was smoking. I guess the silver lining is that it broke down in an area
that was populated area so that someone could stop and give her assistance.  Part of me wishes I knew how far she was
expecting to go or how close she was to making it.

The moral of this story is that I feel like that ‘85 Prelude.  

Stray thoughts: 4/12/2017

I
had a dream last night and I wish it was a better one, since I have so much
recall to it. Frustrating to say the least.

I
was at a beach(assuming it was Myrtle), since that is about all I know, and I
was sitting at a table under an umbrella by a pool.

This
place had a tiny bar/grill being run out of shack that was built to resemble a
huge coconut. I was wearing some form of Hawaiian shirt and a pair of swimming
trunks and a pair of weathered Sanuks. Oh and I had my black fedora on as well.
Can’t forget the fedora. It was hot, but there was a misting fan not too far
away from the table that made it tolerable.
I was sitting there with a yellow legal pad and pen just writing down
bullet points. What I was writing, I have no clue, but someone would walk by
and I’d write something down.

A waitress walked up in a very skimpy bikini, she was wearing a pair of
sunglasses and there wasn’t a hint of a tan line.  I ordered their 15.00 Mushroom & Swiss,
and I was thinking to myself, ‘this better be some burger’, I added some fries
and a Jack & Coke.  I asked her,
“to put it in an adult sized glass if possible”, she smiled and
nodded and went and turned the order in.

I
flipped the page, wrote down  "Luciana,
late 20’s, waitress, friendly, tall, thin, toned". Out of everything I wrote
down during this dream that is the 95% of what I recall writing, and I wrote
“pages”.

A
teenage boy delivered the burger and fries; it was an impressive looking
burger. The boy lingered there without saying anything and I guess it was a
custom to tip him on the spot, so I handed him a couple of bills.  Luciana returned with the drink and it was in
a Styrofoam cup. She apologized “that it wasn’t as a glass” and I
said “no worries, I appreciate the attention to the size”, it was a
24 ounce cup, which is much better than the typical tumbler an adult beverage
is normally served in.

I
flipped back a few pages and wrote “smart/creative” with a couple of
underlines by Luciana’s name. The burger
had a healthy(well maybe not) amount of swiss cheese on it, mushrooms
lathered up in a thick gravy. It took both hands to eat it, so that was a plus.
Dammit(now i’m hungry).

Even
with the misting fan, it was getting hot. I put my papers/phone/keys in the
weathered old beat up messenger bag at my feet, put it on the table and kicked
off the shoes. I pulled off my shirt and took a dip in the pool, swimming down
and back before hopping out and sitting back down. I looked at my cup and
Luciana had filled up again.  I grabbed
the pad from the bag, went to the right page and wrote “very” beside
of the word smart.

I
started watching a couple that were fighting. I could hear about one out of every
three words. The guy had just finished rubbing sun tan oil on his wife’s back
and I guess when she shifted her head she caught him looking at another woman
that was laying out in the sun. She started to get up and he was trying to hold
her down but her slippery body wouldn’t allow his hands to contain her but it
did allow for her top to be disrupted and she stormed off without knowing one
of her breasts was hanging out.

Kids
pointed and stared, men did too without the pointing until the woman disappeared
into the bathroom. The guy sat their with a clusterfucked look on his face. He
was defeated. He knew there was no winning that one whether he was 100% right
or not. A guy to his left that had no business wearing a speedo (neither do I
for that matter) tossed him a beer and said “broads”, like he was
some extra off the set of “The Sopranos”, with his gold accessories
maybe he was.

I
wrote a few more things down, then finally went up to the bar to pay my tab. Luciana
had me down for a “water”, so I left a generous tip. As I was walking
in I got hit with an errant nerf football; I corralled it and tossed it back to
the kids that were throwing it. I started waking up as I was in the elevator
heading back up.

Still
hungry…

Stray Thoughts: 4/6-7/2017

Stray Thoughts: 4/6-7/2017

I started writing
this out on 4/6.

Watching the first
day of the Masters with Scott Van Pelt and Curtis Strange reminds me of the time
a group of my friends and I in a way crossed paths with Strange at the GGO in Greensboro.

This goes back to
91, or 92, 93 at the latest, but a group of us headed down to Greensboro to the tournament. I’m fairly
certain it was a Friday  and the first
stop was a grocery store for a couple of cases of beer. As you know some handle
alcohol better than others. Well, about four to five to some is like a twelve
pack to others, so before we were even out of the van things were getting loud.

We get there and

Then the day got in the way

Picked it back up
on 4/7.

We get there and
the first thing Andy(using YD&B
names again) does is nearly get in a fight with some guy waiting in line at the
porta-Jons. He had to go and jumped in line. At that point I slipped my watch
off and put it in my pocket because with the way his drunk was acting you had
to be on “alert”.

Seth and Jesse were
over there talking to the guy that Andy pissed off, now whether they were
trying to calm things down or stir it up even more who really knows.  Kelly and I walked over to one of the food
tents grabbing a BBQ sandwich and a Pepsi to wash it down.  Andy exits the porta-Jon and Seth sneaks in
saying “suckers”. Andy walked over to the food tent and got a box for
his food. I guess he was hungry. He had a little bit of everything in there.

We walked around
various spots, and there is usually two ways to approach a golf tournament. You
either follow a group around the course, or you stake out a spot and watch
everyone come through. The first half of the day we followed big hitter John
Daly around the course then in the afternoon we set up off to the right of a
hole right below the green. The bigger hitters could find their approach shot
on the green, the rest anywhere from 5-50 yards shy so we got to see a lot of
players chip on to the green.

Andy was worn out
and ready to go. He wanted a nap. He started off going down to one knee. Then
he sat down with his legs out and then he quite simply laid back. Before you
knew it he was snoring. Passed the fuck out on hole whatever at the GGO. If it
were televised(no clue about that), I’m sure the commentators would have had
some fun with him.

Curtis Strange
approaches his ball, he’s trying to chip it up on to the green and he looks
over at us. He backs off the ball and shakes his head. His caddy comes up to
see if he needed a different club. He points over towards us, well Andy, and
he’s laughing with his caddy.  He
approaches the ball again, he goes through the motions, looks up again over in
our direction and laughs again, shakes his head and backs off.  This time a PGA official with his group walks
up and Strange points again and the guy radio’s in to someone else.  Strange goes back to the ball, lines up, hits
it, it makes the green, and as he walks towards the green he yells over.
“Drink another one!”.

A few minutes
later, security rides up on a golf-cart and tells us that our friend needs to
stand up. One of us said, “you wake his fat ass up.” Seth walks over
and starts nudging him in the arm with his foot.  "Wake up" he says. Kelly says
“get up fat ass”. He finally starts to move and gets  up all in a panic, “what’s wrong? what’s
going on?”. We tell him that he passed out  and that Curtis Strange laughed his ass off at
him, and this security guard says you need to stand up.

We watch for a
little while longer, and finally decide we’ve had enough. We are on our way out
when Andy jumps in line at the porta-Jon again, this time telling the guy he
passed that he either goes first or he pisses right there.  The guy said “go ahead buddy”. Seth
is trying to talk Jesse into knocking it over, but Kelly and I looked at them
and said “are you that stupid?”
“While it would be funny as hell he has to ride home with us,
nobody wants that.” They agreed and we left.  

Andy was catching
his second wind a nap will do that for you. He then bellows out, “Take me
to a titty bar.”  Someone tells him
it’s 4 or 5 o’clock ( I put my watch back on)  and again he demands “Take me to a titty
bar.”   Then he remembers that some
topless establishment in Greensboro
has started a topless carwash, the problem was he didn’t know which one. So
down comes the window at the traffic light. The lady in the blue Volvo didn’t
know where the “topless car wash” was. So he orders Kelly to pull
into a gas station.   He comes out with
directions and we are on our way to a topless car wash.

They had a little
league style bench set up with your car right in front of it with 2-3 strippers
washing the car while music blared out of some over-worked speakers.  It was 20-25 dollars plus tips and Andy put
it on his grandfather’s credit card and after about 30 minutes we finally left.
We had to stop again at a gas station so Kelly could clean the
windshield(imagine that).

We get back on I-40
and head towards Winston-Salem
and Andy wants to stop and eat. “I’m Buying”, Seth says, “don’t
you mean Jackson
is buying”, “I’m buying everybody’s meal & drinks but
yours.” We pull into a Sagebrush and ate well.  A $350.00 bar/meal tab
later (Seth’s included) we climb back in the mini-van and head for home. 10
minutes after being back on the road Andy is snoring again.

After using my
friend Goo-gle, she’s still French, it seems the bar/carwash is still in
business and even found a New
York Times
article about it, it seems the guy wanted the space to make
money during the day, smart guy.

Seeing Curtis
Strange on TV reminded me of this story, so I thought I would share it. I’m
sure he’s seen many a drunk fucker on a golf course, but I do wonder if this
story would even register with him today.