This week has been quite good, and certainly very profitable. I even had an opportunity to play some more golf this week, and that experience was one to remember as well. Before I begin , however, here are five things I am thankful for (I'd better get it in now, before I forget, you see):
1. My friend, Dean, for having such a bad greenside game, in golf, that he had to try some weird, whacky tip in order to improve his chipping. Because of this tip I am currently enjoying my greatest good putting streak in about 20 odd years. That is a heckuva long time.
2. The grass continuing to grow. It's the only exercise I get each week. I am looking forward to winter and only needing to cut it once every other week.
3. My daughter beginning her first "official" job. She is a fully accredited, soccer referee, and I am proud of her.
4. The in-laws watching the boy last night so that M and I could attend a concert. Yes, a concert, and it was a spectacle.
5. The new movie "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell". Yes, Tucker Max has a movie. The Apocalypse is nigh.
It is difficult for me to understand the popularity of this Tucker Max character, or person. If you have never heard of him before, and I find that hard to believe, please Google his name and learn of him, and his kind.
Tucker Max is probably the most despicable, deceitful, overbearing, judgmental, and incredibly humorous writers which I have read in many a year. His humor is not for everyone, as even I must admit he is crass beyond belief at times. Tucker Max chooses to do or say anything in an attempt to see how low women will go to be with a pseudo-celebrity of his apparent social status.
To me, his book is a scathing eye opener to people's, particularly women's, ability to overlook obvious shortcomings in a person if the mere possibility of future wealth and social acceptance exists. There are many lonely people in the world, and it worries me that there may be far too many heartless others eager to exploit them. I say watch the film, or read the book, and decide for yourself. I warn you though, you will laugh and then you will have to think about yourself.
Maybe you ought not to watch the movie at all. It could be too much for you.
Let's move on...
M and I went to a free concert at the Jacksonville Landing last night. It was a country music concert being put on by a local country music radio station, and therefore the entire night was M's idea. I'm more of a Alternative Rock kind of guy, or possibly Classic Rock, or maybe even Pop music, and Country music is far down my list. Of course, she definitely was looking forward to the music and the night out, and I aim to please.
The Jacksonville Landing is downtown. It sits right on the bank of the St. John's River and there are four or five restaurants that ring a semi circle that is large enough to hold a stage and probably 3,000 people. I'm not sure on the number, but it was packed.
We don't usually venture to downtown Jax except for football and baseball games. There are a couple of museums that we have been to, but we mostly just stay in the suburbs with the rest of the middle class.
I was surprised to find available parking on the street and only a couple of blocks from the Landing. But, I should not have been surprised. All of the garages and pay lots were being filled, and the street parking was being ignored, because of the clientele not being from the city either! They were all from the outlying areas and knew very little of Downtown Jax. We were awash in a sea of blue jeans and cowboy hats. Codsey was out of his element.
We parked on the street, made a mental note of the location, and began our trek to The Landing. How do I know that I have entered the twilight zone that is urban America? By the sign outside of a local daytime restaurant. It read something like "Make someone's day by committing random acts of kindness and senseless acts of love". Yes, "senseless" acts of love. I'm pretty sure it was supposed to read "selfless" cause I have no idea what a senseless act of love really is. I guess it's just loving someone like that guy out west who kidnapped that girl 18 years ago and fathered two of her children. Loving that guy wouldn't make much sense. I guess that is senseless love. I'm not for it.
M and I thought that sign was quite humorous, and we chuckled about it for some time. As we walked along the street we fell in behind a group of late teen or early twenty something good ole southern boys and girls. The boys all had the tight wranglers with the signature skoal rings on the back pockets. This made me wish I had a chew. None since Christmas though, and I'm still holding strong.
We also noticed one of the guys had a 6 inch long hunting knife hanging on his right hip, in a sheath. I thought it was odd that someone would want to bring a knife to a concert, but hey, it's the south and these guys were clearly country. I seriously wasn't concerned. Interestingly enough, neither was the security guard at the front door because she was feverishly checking the backpack of a guy with a little baby hanging on his chest. I guess it had to do with anti-terrorism, but I'm not sure. The guy with the knife waltzed on through.
The Landing was jam packed so we decided to try to get a table at one of the local restaurants. They all had outside tables and why not sit down and eat while drinking and listening to some live music? There was a Hooters, but we passed. There was a sushi place, but we passed. We decided on American Cafe. Plus, they were serving Margaritas for $4. I'm all-in.
We put out name on the list and after about an hour, and two margaritas later, we sat down on the deck. I'm not sure of the first two performers, but their music was decent. Like I said, I'm not that much into country music, so I watched the people. Most of the women wore jean mini-skirts and cowboy boots. The men wore t-shirts with various levels of half dressed cartoon women printed on the back and/or front of the shirt.
One of the more interesting shirts had a women with a bikini, the top barely covering her nipples, and the bottoms being thong in nature. It had a caption which read "It's Time to get the Real Lube". Seems it was an add for motor oil. Interesting.
After we ate our pizza we went downstairs to the floor. We managed to push our way through the crowd and we ended up getting positioned near the steps at the back of the stage where the performers came and went. Apparently, one of the performers wore an incredibly sexy pair of "New Religion" jeans. It seems he looked great in them, as his jeans, and his buttocks, were the hot topic in our twosome for the next 15 minutes. M was hammered. She was funny too.
I know why bands which play later in the show are actually considered to be better sounding than the early playing bands. It's because it takes the crowd a while to become numb enough from alcohol and drugs to not really care what the band sounds like. Once the crowd reaches the proper intoxication levels it is "party on!".
It was actually a very enjoyable evening. As the last performer was playing, some guy named Azor or something, and he was wrapping it up, we began to walk out. The crowd, while rowdy and raucous, was not out of control and there were no fights or disagreements that I could see. It was a very nice time. Azor was singing something about "not being me until Monday". Nice song, that one.
We walked back to our car, which seemed to take much longer than the walk to the concert. The ride home was uneventful except for M babbling on and on about "New Religion" jeans and butts, and how next week's concert was going to be even better. I have to get some new jeans.
Codsey out.
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