An Eater at Large

On the one hand, going eight months past your inspection due date saves you a lot of money in the long term.  On the other hand, if you get caught by the po-po, they will give you a pretty sizable ticket.  I managed to get away with the former this time around, but did experience the latter a few years back.

Last Monday, I spoke with a Pep Boy on the phone to make an appointment.  When he told me they don't do appointments on the weekend, I imagined myself getting up at 7AM and wheeling it in, bright and early.  However, while in bed this morning, I thought of a question: Is it true that only nut bags are morning people?  Three hours later, I was up, and counting my money, because my debit card was now defunct, thanks to Mary Jo.  I'm pretty sure she tossed out its replacement into the recycling pile, never to be seen again.

Next stop:  the bank.  I had to deposit three checks, and take out the usual amount of cash that would bring me down to $1,000.  If you're not in the mood for any student loan scumbags freezing your account, then it's best to keep making withdrawals to limit the damage.    It's move that's worth a certain amount of inconvenience.

The Pep Boy that arranged to service my car was incredibly nice.  I wasn't awake, and paused a few times so that my words would come out straight.  "Here's proof of car insurance... I'll imagine you'll be needing this."  I had my paperwork in a neat little stack.  He took what he needed and off he went, reminding me that they could go all the way to 8 o'clock, depending how busy they were.  A good general rule here is that the more time you spend at Wendy's or Wal-Mart or Taco Bell, the more wasted the day.

I didn't feel like sitting around staring at my cell phone the whole time.

I felt like going home and staring at my laptop instead.

Walking home as fast as I could turned out to be one of the best decisions I'd made all day.  The trek was almost like a mini-trip to the gym, and I relished the mellow simplicity of it all - hoofing it until I felt a little spike of adrenaline.

But first!  My efforts to move further and further away from beef had come to a head.  The next thing I knew, I was in the local Burger King at eleven in the morning ordering up one of their new Impossible Whopper meals.  The young girl working behind the register asked if I wanted it to come in a small, medium or large.  I picked medium, because I didn't feel like having to choke down a shit-ton of fries or a trough of their artificial soda.  I get the sense that soda is becoming even more processed, now that they're moving away from fountains and instead using those push-button kiosks.  Some Coca Cola executive who uses terms like "flavor profile" and "thirst demongraphics" has convinced the company that it all tastes the same, but it doesn't. 

Anyway, Burger King got a new business partner last spring.  You see all the pollution and health problems and animal cruelty that exists when millions of people eat meat and one understands at once that something needs to be done.  Told casually by blue collar workers in commercials that they can't tell the difference, you still, warily, need to ask yourself, "Well, what kind of laboratory hocus-pocus is this?" 

Just what I expected... you slather on enough mayonnaise, cheese, lettuce, ketchup, tomatoes and onions and anything will taste like a Whopper.

Definitely a far cry from their earlier efforts in the 90s, where the burger patty was just mashed up veggies.  It was like eating a hockey puck made out of potpourri.

Diary of a Pinball Wizard

The Who were, arguably, the greatest rock band of all-time, because they embodied and epitomized everything that made rock music compelling. Rock is supposed to be loud, energetic and aggressive, and the Who were the prime musical exemplars of these qualities. They just might be the only band in the world to take rock music as far as it could go.

I continue my streak of evading all adult responsibility by settling in and watching 1979's The Kids Are Alright for the first time in its entirety.  I recall listening to Tommy in sixth grade and found it to be the ideal escape, with each song guiding me through the strata of everything that was possible with a concept album. 

What on earth was this band about? They always talked openly about how they couldn't stand each other, four distinct and very different personalities.