Monday, August 23rd
I walked to Jack's tonight. It was a warm night out; the crickets and the air conditioners knew this because unlike last week (when I walked to Jack's and it was silent out but for the sounds of cars rolling buy) tonight everyone and their mother who had an AC unit was running it and the crickets were chirping away in the light of the full moon.
Walking into the bar I was greeted to by the sound of the bartenders and regulars saying my name out loud. I so feel like Norm (from Cheers). And you know what, it's a pretty fucking awesome feeling. Thank you all for the warm greeting.
I spoke to Trey tonight. He's a young kid (well, young man) with a solid head on his shoulders and a load of good stories for someone fresh out of college. If you ever meet him, take the time to ask him about the victory arch some kids formed for him as he was completing the return leg of a three block run wearing only a pair of skivvies plus the shoes he wanted to buy from the store owner who dared him to make the run for a $10 discount on the shoes. (The skivvies were complementary, as it turned out).
We swapped stories and I told him of my adventures in Long Beach for the Flugtag over the weekend. Now that I think about it, the trip was more like a three day journey to Huntington Beach, with a side-trip to Long Beach on Saturday.
The reggae seemed like it started kind of late so I didn't get to hear any of the good music; it's too bad I had to go to bed early tonight because reggae has its hooks in me and whenever I hear it I want to dance to it. But I did get to see some pretty ladies who were real nice to my beard before they graced me with sincere smiles and gave me warm fairwell hugs as they departed.
I'm also convinced Grant can punch a hole through a 2x4 with his thumbs. Only thumbs that strong are capable of kneeding the ever present knots out of my shoulders.
The walk back home was uneventful. I do wish I could have spoke to Wes a bit longer, but I'll see him again.
Night all. See you Tuesday at Jack's.