September 16, 2000

We all live in a capital I
In the middle of the desert
In the center of the sky.

All day long we polish up the I
To make it clean and shiny
So it brightens up the sky.
Rubbing it here
And scrubbing it there.
Polishing the I
So high in the air.

And as we work we sing a lively tune
"It is great to be so happy on a busy afternoon."
And when we're through with the day's only chore,
We go into the I
And we close the door.

Capital I, capital I, capital I, capital I.

Call me crazy, but I love this song.

I spent a good two hours last night searching for an audio file of it online, with no luck. I did find the lyrics, however, as you can see.

Do you remember this song? I know it must sound familiar to you if you're under 30. Just in case you've forgotten, it's a song from an old animated skit on Sesame Street. Very 70's.

I should start taking my horoscopes more seriously. Twice in the last week, my horoscopes have advised me not to travel. Twice, I travelled, and THREE times, the travelling itself SUCKED, even though being in the destinations I managed to get to brought quite a bit of much-needed slack my way. You already know about Chicago. My mini-trip to South Jersey... now that was an adventure.

Thursday night, I had nothing planned. No work, nothing. Could have gone to Raymond's, but I wasn't in much of a karaoke mood. I happened to bump into Spike online and I suggested driving down there for a visit. So, I did. What a drive. Two hours. That's nearly halfway to Massachusetts. The drive was nothing compared to the crazy cast of characters I experienced there. Spike lives in an apartment above a bar/restaurant in south jersey. The bartender is his roommate. Besides the two of them, "normal"  (and I use that term VERY loosely... these SubGenius men are very sketchy about being branded "normal",) is not the word I would use to describe the folks I met on this excursion. I can't quite describe it. It's like southern culture on the skids, but it's in NEW JERSEY. Folks have this weird southern-ish accent. It sounds like a georgia accent that's been processed through a machine that Brooklyn-izes it. Know what I mean? I dunno. hard to explain. It's all very white trash, which is cool, in my opinion. Got nothin against white trash, they're very entertaining. You just don't want to get them ANGRY. Especially when they're DRUNK. Apparently there was some kind of pissed-offness going on in the bar while Spike and I were upstairs talking. But after the interrogation that the owner of the bar gave me, I didn't particularly want to be in the bar anyway.
"What are you having?"
"I don't know yet."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I'm not ready."
"Why not?"
"I'm just not thirsty yet."

Damn! I never get that kind of harassment in New Brunswick bars. This is GREAT!
There was also this dude there, who Spike later informed me is named "Lighter Bob". HAW! The guy sits down near me at the bar and says, "Nice watch. Mine's better," and proceeds to show me his ugly, cheapo Building 19-looking digital watch. Except it's got one thing my Hello Kitty watch doesn't have: a fucking LIGHTER in it. I was amazed. Then he pulls out a bronze penis, which has a flame coming out of the hole, and he says, "Give me your money. This is a DICK UP."

South Jersey, man. It's something to be experienced.

Spike's friends were cool, for the most part. One of them (whose name I can't remember anymore, oops...) is under 21, but an ex-thug. Proud of it, too. Let's just say I'm glad he liked me. His girlfriend was a little too drunk for me to get to know, but she seems like she's sweet in a goofy kind of way.
Above all, it was good to see Spike. Much like my whole thing with andreux, I've known the guy for years, but only hung out with him in person very briefly. He's definately wacked, in the best possible way. He's allergic to his own SWEAT, for Dobbssakes. It's great to have a fellow SubGenii friend in the same state, but he's still pretty far away, which sucks. If I found a SubG in New Brunswick, I'd be in a state of shock. There's so many freaky little college kids here, and despite the fact that they go to Rutgers, I'd be surprised if they have two brain cells to rub together.

Here's the bad part: The drive home.
I was having fun, so I didn't really want to leave, anyway... but I didn't have much of a choice. The rain was coming down, literally, in SHEETS. Bad enough that I was fairly clueless about where I was, but then to top it all off, here's all this fucking RAIN. And the only other cars on the road were big ass TRUCKS, splashing even MORE water on my windshield. And I was tired as hell, and trying to keep as alert as possible, because of the obviously dangerous situation. I was about 15 minutes away from Spike's place and seriously debating turning back and staying there until the rain subsided, but I knew I couldn't do that or Rob would kill me. He already called out of work once this week. I made it back safely, as you can see, but was I wasted. That was one of the scariest things I've ever had to go through. gawddayem!

Bah. I have to go to work. BAH!