Old Dog Tries New Trick, Sprains Ass

Well, I’m trying anyway.    

First of all, I now wake up with the birds.  And then I actually get up, and start to get about my day.  A monumental shift in my habits, which for the better part of my life have involved witnessing the station sign-off for all of the major networks.  But now, as I say, I get up, stand up.  Stand up for my rights, stand in the place where I live, now face north, think about direction, etc..  Then I drink coffee.

Getting up that early also means that I am now tired and ready to rock the pa-jay-jays around 8:30pm, and by ten or eleven, I’m out, kids.  

Now.

We live in what is called an “apartment community.”  Which sounds all cooperative and shit, but what it really means is there are a whole bunch of crackerbox buildings clustered around a park and greenbelt, and the trees and greenery are nice, but they do nothing to alter the fact that voices carry, as has been duly noted by ‘Til Tuesday.  And last night, there was a bit of a par-tay at one of the buildings across the way, and though all in the community were not invited, all were nonetheless privy to all of the conversations and general merry-making (see, there it is again – what young person says “merry-making”?) – “Shaaaaauuuuunnnn!  Woo-HOO!  Duuuuude!  Dudedudedude!”  

And I’m lying there, knowing that I cannot close the windows due to the suffocating armpit of heat that has descended over southern California; just lying there, beginning to feel unbridled hatred for Shaun and his popularity and whatever act he performed which engendered the hooting and catcalling of young women – “Yeeeaaaaahhhh!  All right, baby!!!  Check it, check it, check it!!!  WOOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!” 

But here is where I sprained my ass.

A thought occurred.  

“Perhaps,” whispered the part of me that is not one thousand years old with a herniated upper lip, “perhaps they really aren’t being that loud.  It is Friday, and school is out for the summer, and it is only 11:30pm, which for most young people is breakfast time, and was once your breakfast time I seem to recall.  And it’s not like they have music thumping, about junk in a trunk and getting love drunk off your hump – they’re just talking, and it’s a bit amplified by the convergence of all the buildings.  So maybe you could just climb down offa that high horse and step away from the thunder stick, and remember that (back in the olden days) you yourself once talked and laughed loudly with good friends on a summer night.”

And though it hurt my ass to change direction like that, so all of a sudden, I did it.  Rolled over, put in some earplugs, and though I could still hear the comedic stylings of Shaun Doing Something, I let my old lady ire fizzle out and went to sleep with relative ease, although my ass did require some Icy Hot.