Waiting on my ability to be cool
I'm a pack-rat. I don't throw anything out, though I probably should. Digging through a cardboard box that's been in storage, I don't know, maybe five years, I find old photos, scribbled notebooks, and love letters. This is from, like, l-o-n-g ago. I keep the photos because they prove I was there. Love letters from long ago should be burned! Jeez, my mom could read that stuff. You want the photos, but you burn the letters because then it never happened, you see?
Scribbled notebooks. Kerouac once wrote that everyone "should keep scribbled notebooks for yr own joy." I agree. Here I find a notebook that lists around 300 things I planned on doing in the next five years. Of course it was written like eight years ago, so it's an odd thing to look over. A lot of them are pretty mundane. Sadly there's like five involving a planned trip to New Orleans that I never actually took. Didn't it wash away? There's a list of clubs in Cleveland I never got around to going to either. Here's a simple one: "Go to the tallest building in Cincinnati, get to the highest part, and take a picture." I did that. That's the Carew Tower (not sure if it's actually the tallest). There's a list of people I promised myself to keep tabs on. Some of them I lost track of but the rest are pretty well scattered across the country (some internationally) now. It's hard to imagine that we were all together in the same place at one time when you think of the immense distance between us now. Heh, some of them don't even know I know what they're up to. Guess that makes me a stalker. Another one: "Drink a bottle of wine and write your life story." That's what I'm doing now I suppose.
Here's one that I almost did but things fell through:
"Go to a gas station where there's an airpump clearly visible by the attendant and at least five other people. Look really anxious. Proceed to take an inflate-a-mate out of the trunk of your car and use the air pump to inflate her/it. Scream loudly, 'Thank God!' and drive off looking well statisfied."
Almost did that, but my friend who had one of those things ended up denying it when pressed. Sigh.
Couple of material things: "Buy a '65 Mustang convertible." Got a Chrysler Sebring convertible instead. That was a yuppy-year. Let's see. I wanted to buy a special Security Rug. What's that? Well, it's my version of Linus's Security Blanket/Mr. Mom's kid's Woobe. I'd get this small rug, you see, and cart it around with me everywhere. Go to the park, got my rug. Want to sit on the floor and watch TV, got my rug. Want to [insert anything], yep, got my rug. I had one picked out, but I don't know what became of it. Sigh.
Man, there's a lot of stuff in this notebook. I'm going to have to go through it more sometime. In the back some of my friends wrote their Last Will & Testaments. Apparently Steve still owes me his pair of Chuck Taylors and his "ability to be cool".
Dude, pay up.
[Edit- 3/28/07: I think the Carew Tower is the tallest building in Cincinnati, check it out]
Scribbled notebooks. Kerouac once wrote that everyone "should keep scribbled notebooks for yr own joy." I agree. Here I find a notebook that lists around 300 things I planned on doing in the next five years. Of course it was written like eight years ago, so it's an odd thing to look over. A lot of them are pretty mundane. Sadly there's like five involving a planned trip to New Orleans that I never actually took. Didn't it wash away? There's a list of clubs in Cleveland I never got around to going to either. Here's a simple one: "Go to the tallest building in Cincinnati, get to the highest part, and take a picture." I did that. That's the Carew Tower (not sure if it's actually the tallest). There's a list of people I promised myself to keep tabs on. Some of them I lost track of but the rest are pretty well scattered across the country (some internationally) now. It's hard to imagine that we were all together in the same place at one time when you think of the immense distance between us now. Heh, some of them don't even know I know what they're up to. Guess that makes me a stalker. Another one: "Drink a bottle of wine and write your life story." That's what I'm doing now I suppose.
Here's one that I almost did but things fell through:
"Go to a gas station where there's an airpump clearly visible by the attendant and at least five other people. Look really anxious. Proceed to take an inflate-a-mate out of the trunk of your car and use the air pump to inflate her/it. Scream loudly, 'Thank God!' and drive off looking well statisfied."
Almost did that, but my friend who had one of those things ended up denying it when pressed. Sigh.
Couple of material things: "Buy a '65 Mustang convertible." Got a Chrysler Sebring convertible instead. That was a yuppy-year. Let's see. I wanted to buy a special Security Rug. What's that? Well, it's my version of Linus's Security Blanket/Mr. Mom's kid's Woobe. I'd get this small rug, you see, and cart it around with me everywhere. Go to the park, got my rug. Want to sit on the floor and watch TV, got my rug. Want to [insert anything], yep, got my rug. I had one picked out, but I don't know what became of it. Sigh.
Man, there's a lot of stuff in this notebook. I'm going to have to go through it more sometime. In the back some of my friends wrote their Last Will & Testaments. Apparently Steve still owes me his pair of Chuck Taylors and his "ability to be cool".
Dude, pay up.
[Edit- 3/28/07: I think the Carew Tower is the tallest building in Cincinnati, check it out]
posted by Jeremy at
5:45 PM
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