I was having a conversation with this dude not to many years ago and during the context of my, as per usual, profoundly passionate and inspirational words, said dude replied a bunch of words that I didn't pay much attention to, like the Peanuts school teacher, until two words smacked me right in the face.
This was a guy who lived in a not so savory part of West Philly; an unemployed hustler. Not the Gary Vee type of hustler but in the gangster denotation of the colloquialism. But a nice fellow nonetheless.
I, a long time student of the universities, and he, a student of hard knocks. Together, over coffee, our differences in knowledge leveled by this, the Internet... I mean not entirely but I'm sure you catch my drift.
Everything we ever dare to know is right there on a device in our pockets. Obvious right?
Well that's kinda why I started this little series of oberservational posts. BTW, you can check out Part One <<
Are there things in your life that you just don't want to Google? Questions about this wonderful world that are more alluring due to the mysteries that lie beneath their surfaces. Did that make sense?
So today I would like to share some of these that are life's wonderments, to me anyway. And please, while you are free to comment, I really find the beauty in not knowing the big ole WHYs to what's about to follow.
Without further ado...
Stuff that I just cannnot bring myself to Google and some other random thoughts.
Yup. Why not dive right in?
Did you ever notice that all meth heads look like they are related? I'm being dead serious. Once you can spot one meth addict, you can spot them all. It's an incestual type of vibe they have going on. Kinda like a Down Syndrome face with a signature underbite.
You know who I mean. And if you don't, keep an eye out. You'll thank me.
Fucking wires?! Fucking outlets?! It's 2019 and while our devices are somewhat wireless, at the end of the day, litereally, all of our shit is all plugged in. Look around your home. Fucking ugly wires everywhere. Lamps. Chargers. TVs. Blow Driers. Toasters. More lamps. Cars. Lamps. Computers.
I know there's someone reworking an underground Telsa ball somewhere. Let's get our houses wireless people.
Yeah, no rhyme or reason here. Just tossing them out there for ya to lap up.
At the moment I'm typing this my daughters Harper Thomas and Emma Elizabeth are three and one, respectively. I've had my fair share of Sesame Street.
Is the target demo for that show the lower socioeconomic classes or what?! I mean I think they always pushed that urban vibe but boy how I think they even may have lowered the bar for a lot of viewers.
If you're not familiar, they often showcase one type of career or another throughout given episodes.
Recently? It wasn't an astronaut or, IDK, a philosophy professor that made the cut. Nope. Not even the same stratosphere. Heheh. Get it?
True story, feature on this particular day were:
- LAUNDROMAT ATTENDANT and
- CINNAMON TREE BARK PICKER
You can't make this shit up people.
Good thing I usually push Little Einsteins and Ted Talks. FML
On the other hand, I never knew those cinnamon sticks were the bark from trees. Huh.
I LOVE USING THE SEMICOLON; ADDING REFINEMENT TO MY WRITING AND ALTHOUGH I PROBABLY USE IN INCORRECTLY MOST OF THE TIME, I BET MOST PEOPLE HAVE NO IDEA.
No joke. Go through most of my posts and I'm sure there is at least one semicolon in every single post.
Back when I was a lifer at Rowan University, many of us of the jock type (yup, I used to be a douche but then grew up) took classes referred to one another based on criteria such as: the professor doesn't care if you show up or you'll get an A just because the prof has a fetish for muscle head bartenders (I.E. me back then). I shit you not. BTW that was ages ago so deal with my humor today.
Anyway, that's how I ended up in a Jazz history class. Was one of those, "It's the easiest class Rowan offers." Yup, things were much different back then. Or they may be very much the same. Or more likely my priorities were askew. Yup. That's it.
Anyway, day one of the class, I, a guy who absolutely loated jazz, sat down and the professor showed up. Turned out it was a new guy. He annouced that it was a new ball game. The old guy got arrested for cocaine distribution. Half the class got up and walked out. I thought, "How hard could it be?". Long story short It was the only D I had gotten in college. Fucking hated that class.
Fast forward and my wife and I were sort of newly married and we took my father in law to a jazz joint for brunch one Sunday; he being a jazz aficionado.
Place was Warmdaddy's on Columbus Blvd. in Philadelphia, before they turned buffet style, when the food was actually good. There was a live jazz band.
We were the only white people in the joint.
It was fucking amazing.
And right now while I type I'm listening to Thelonious Monk. Go figure.
I mean, how much trash to they hold. Ever get stuck behind those guys? They will feed that beast couches, trees, small children, along with your overflowing cans of trash and yet they just keep on filling it up.
Is there a beeping light inside the cabin letting them know when enough is enough?
Does that truck last an entire shift or have to go dump and get back to the route? Huh. I wonder.
I've been intrigued by biker gangs for some time. Not the retirees riding things that look like a Lincoln on two wheels either.
I'm talking real 1%ers. More specifically The Pagan's Motorcycle Club; a Philly 1% MC. True outlaws.
Besides the fact that they are a local gang, I think what fascinates me about the MC is that they are ranked in like the top 3 of most vicious motorcycle gangs in the world. That number boggles my mind because they are one of the smallest in number; by a lot. Crazy.
Not the point.
I always wonder.
What do these dudes do during the day? When not causing mayhem and murder and supplying meth to those very familiar faces, are they like, IDK, accountants or sales associates at The GAP?
And you always just see gangs as gangs. You never see one of them flying their colors on the way to the clubhouse. Do they wear their colors on the way? Do they meet at a clubhouse? Or do they pick like their favorite bar to meet at?
How about kids? They watching Buddy the Elf put maple syrup on spaghetti on Christmas Eve with their little future 1%er?
WHAT CAME FIRST, THE DONALD OR THE CARD?
That's enough for today. I'll keep this going. Maybe not the very next post but sooner than later. You frequent flyers know when it comes to "series" dedication, I can be ify.
Ok, got a kid tugging at my leg. Gotta go be a dad.
Until next time...