i hate it when things smell so much better than they end up tasting

No. 42

Touch a large shark and maybe punch its nose

Bucket List.

Partially inspired by my Canadian brethren on The Buried Life, my best friend and I decided to write our own list of things to accomplish before we kick the bucket. Unlike the show, our list generally offers no goodwill to anyone but ourselves, which is super arrogant and just the way I like it. Anyways, I’ve decided to periodically release the items on the list with no particular logic to the numbering, other than that it makes it seem like this blog contains more material than it actually does.

A Brief History of Alcoholism

Junior Year of High School (2006 - 2007)
Incident: Busted for drinking at house when parents away.
How: Mother of best friend noticed his red ears. Said mother contacted parents of all alleged participants at party.
Consequence(s): Intense scolding, confiscation of all alcoholic beverages, apology to parents of all parties necessitated

Sophomore Year of College (2010)
Incident: Busted when Mom walks in on party at 2 AM.
How: Mom’s flight arrives one full night earlier than expected. Failure in communication/ memory.
Consequence(s): None

Additional Notes:

• Held entire conversation with Mom at arrival - no recollection of what conversation consisted of.
• Conversations between Mom and drunk friends ensued - similarly awkward.
• Immediately tried to perform damage control out of paranoia: clean up basement and destroy evidence- dropped full trash bags on the floor due to poor motor function control, multiple times.
• Upon waking, no recollection of where evidence was hidden from night before - evidence later found next to barbeque outside, in plain sight.
• Later discovered through Mom’s employee that she thought entire experience was hilarious.

Junior Year of College (2010)
Incident: Party at house. Mom watching Asian Soaps in basement, walks upstairs to witness rampant baseball and Coronas in plain sight. No reaction - retreats to master bedroom.
Consequence(s): None

Evidence:

Scorecard for Baseball + Inebriated illustrations

Judging by my mom’s decreasingly adverse reactions to me raging at home, I’d say that I’m growing up. I bet you this is how kids feel right after their bar mitzvahs. Yom Huledet Same’ach and Mazel Tov!

Buddy Guy

This man has soul. I managed to catch a bit of his  “Guitar Centre Session” on the 101 Network and it was nothing short of mind-blowing.

I imagine he’s the type of man you could listen to talk for hours; hours full of soulful stories with ever-so-subtle yet profound slivers of wisdom that, if you weren’t paying close enough attention, could float right past you unnoticed - all told with a weathered Louisiana cool that couldn’t care less whether you picked up on it or not. Like when he told the story of himself as a young boy, running past a broken mirror, stopping to look at his reflection and saying to his ma, “Damn I’m good lookin,” only to have her respond: “Yes son, but it’s only skin deep” (a story which inspired him to write this).

Although I’m only a neophyte when it comes to blues appreciation, it doesn’t take much to recognize his genius, and that’s what this post really comes down to. Watching him perform made me ask myself: what really constitutes genius (and how can I try to emulate it)?

Watch him do his thing and I think the answer becomes clearer. Genius, it seems to me, is practiced form perfectly blended with the unconventionality that only comes out of being honest with oneself.