Thursday, March 31, 2005

A not so subtle threat.

This evening when I pulled back the covers on my bed I found a single claw cover - pulled from Feral's paw - waiting for me. It was clearly on my side of the bed.

A revenge notice?

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Signs of spring.

Spring is breaking here in the Midwest, and I took some time today to search out one of the signs of the end of the long winter.

I went in search of The First Skateboarders Of Spring.

Skateboarders - those tough motherfuckers - are a sure sign that spring is around the corner. Like the crocus, they often appear even before the snow is melted and seem to thrive in harsh conditions.

I started my search in the suburb of Royal Oak, which is known for it's youth and vibrancy. I once met a man on a train who recommended Tom's Oyster Bar for a good meal in the area and since I had an hour or so to kill, I sought it out. I found the bar and ordered the crawfish bisque and a black and tan. I never thought to put crawfish in a bisque, but there you go. It was very good. The waitress didn't know where I should go to find the First Skateboarders Of Spring and additionally seemed entirely uninterested in my quest. Nonetheless, I pressed on.

I started walking and looked for the empty lots and waxed curbs that usually indicate Skateboarding activities and came upon a threatening group of five punks. They were friendly and would have made a great photo, with their mile high mohawks, leather, plaid and chains. However, I wasn't looking for punks. I was looking for the elusive and timid First Skateboarders Of Spring.

Near a promising alley, I was approached by a bum in a dirty snowsuit and a white cane. Normally I don't supply money for bums, but he asked nicely and I had already had my beer - why shouldn't he have his? He asked to walk with me, but I told him no, unless he knew where the Skateboarders were. He didn't.

It was approaching dusk when I came to a public park with a large concrete fountain. I listened for the telltale CLACK CLACK sound of skateboarders but all was quiet. There was no wax on the curb, however, there was a "No Skateboarding" sign. A sign such as this is a clear indication of a Skateboarding Watering Hole so I sat on a bench and waited.

It wasn't long before I saw a small group of three Skateboarders defiantly carrying their boards not 25 feet away. I immediately got up and followed them to the concrete steps of a government building.

I pushed my chocolate brown fedora down over my eyes and lifted my chin to peer at them from the bottom of the concrete steps. I raised my hand open-palmed in a non-threatening gesture and said "Hello there! May I take your photo?"

They stopped and looked at me. "What?"

"I'm looking for the First Skateboarders Of Spring. Do you mind if I take your photo?" I asked.

"Um. Sure. Whatever." The one who seemed to be the leader said. "Do you want us to smile...or what."

(often skateboarders will hiss and feign apathy and distain as defense mechanisms, but do not be deterred! in my experience, just under the surface you will find a wholly sensitive and enjoyable group of people.)

I raised my camera, "How about if you...look intimidating." They laughed. They spoke of the mild weather and of looking for a good place to Skate. After I took their picture, I thanked them for their cooperation and asked if I could follow them to the fountain.

"I guess so. But we pretty much't expect a whole lot." (cynicism and modesty – additional natural defenses.)

At the fountain I sat at a distance and took a few photos, but it was getting too dark for pictures and I knew I was unwelcome as Skateboarders are often a solitary people. I thanked them again and walked back to my car deeply satisfied that spring is on its way.

The First Skateboarders Of Spring

Thursday, March 24, 2005

All I need - a violet and a fedora.

There have been way too many things going on.

Sometimes it seems like it's all I can do to go check my favorite blarghs, think about posting a comment, and go back to work without responding. (I could be so clever if I just had the time!)

The winter is breaking up and I think that's sunshine on the windowpane. Could it be? Yes, I think it is actually sunshine. When the violets blossom I will know that I have just barely survived another Michigan winter.

I miss my people in Kalamazoo. I miss my coffee house. I miss my pub (which has since been remodeled into a trendy dance club - damn kids.) I miss my job on the fourth floor of the Haymarket building. I miss the Little Theatre and their independent films. I miss the little hill in Bronson Park.

But here I am; in a tame suburb of Detroit. With no loft. And the only thing that made me grin today is the 57 year old print salesman who wears a fedora and wool trench coat. He shares my sense of humor you see. And he has an appreciation for style.


Bring me a violet, darling, and a vodka martini with vermuth soaked olives and I shall be happy.

Friday, March 11, 2005

I'm not a drama queen, but...

I’m not a drama queen, but deep down there is woman who is moaning, crying and screaming get out.

I have an image in my mind what must be the best stress relieving activity known on this rotten earth. I would like to stand in front of the kitchen sink with a vase full of at least a dozen beautiful, red, long stem roses. And one by one grind their heads off in the garbage disposal.

But I’m not a spurned lover. Instead I have to make do with what I have, namely, the office shredder.

It’s been a harried week, lemme tell ya. The bookkeeping beat me up for two days straight. It beat me up last week too. It takes up so much of my mental bandwidth when I try to mess with it and it just puts me on the verge of tears. My mind isn't bent in that direction - I am good at advertising and I suck at bookkeeping.

Unfortunately it's been a particular clusterfuck the last few weeks because of invoicing errors. Verifying details, splitting costs, weeks ending, activity code, job location, blah blah blah.

Could anything be more dull? Infuriating? Maddening?

Anyway...the office shredder. When I was researching shredders, I found models that would actually chew up cds and stacks of papers. I didn't get that one, but my little gutless wonder does just fine for what I need it for:

Abercrombie and Fitch postcard - die, you skinny bitches!
Visa Gold Credit application - back from whence you came, devil spawn!
Phone message from the annoying insurance lady - I got your dental plan right here!
Invoice #5213 - confetti for you, buddy.

Sometimes it's just the little things that make me feel better.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

Sir Hopkins sends his regrets

My first rsvp:

If you came to my reception, Anthony, I'd get you any kind of scotch you wanted.