Summer
My parents used to take me and my three brothers to the Jersey shore for a week mid summer. We rented a bunglao by the beach and lived the life. I remember the street names like Pelican lane or Dolphin drive, cute, simple, easy summer living. I was at the age where the look of a bikini on a teenage girl was just starting to make me feel a certain way, but not enough yet. Childhood still had me, and wasn’t letting go yet. What was infinitely more important was the walks with my brother to the store to buy some wacky pack baseball cards. Cards with drawings of goblins and creatures playing baseball or football, my ten cents buying me hours of wonder along with a brick hard slab of gum rolled in powdered sugar. Walks filed with conversations about Planet of the Apes and what we would do if it happened. How dr Zaius would actually like us, because we were different.
Jaws had just come out, ruining pools, lakes and streams for kids everywhere, not to mention the ocean. The great shark swam in the waters off of New Jersey, I knew it.
The boardwalk was the pinnacle of the trip. The big night out. Cotton Candy. The stuffed doll I would never win, and the smell of roasted peanuts. Small wooden roller coasters built in 1917, that no sane person would let their child ride, and the cool salty breeze that came in from the ocean.
I had no fear of tanned skin back then. We would play in the sun until we were caramel colored. I had no fear of anything except math and spelling.
My parents, to this day have no idea how much these little things would mean to me in my life. How much those memories would sneak in on a warm summer breeze and fill up my nostrils, and take me back even for just a few seconds. Just like those of you with kids are unaware how much of a warm summer night is going to stick in their little subconscious and wait to come out.
I hate that I don’t feel like that anymore. I live day to day in the drab world of the here and now. Bills and work and the future are on my mind. Those moments that used to fill my everyday with wonder and excitement are gone. Just small memories, that flood in and out. I know in my heart it’s why having kids is so great because they bring it back to you, and you get to hold their little hands and watch them amazed at a snail or a turtle.
I had one of those moments just a few minutes ago. I was sitting reading, and that feeling of youth and my life, and summer snuck in and nudged me. It’s why a write this. It all came back, and me sitting here remembering these things is a week attempt to hang on to it.
The great shark still swims off the coast of new Jersey, waiting for a kid to take his raft and go swimming.
Have a great Summer out there
your pal Randy
America the Busted
Wednesday, January 23rd, 2008here we are again.
America is busted. America is so busted that they are coming up with zany schemes to get people to buy shit, it’s awesome. I’m glad. Now, I’m not glad because I like to see people suffer. That is not true. I’m glad because we fucking deserve it.
here is the rub. If you let a president steal an election, then watch your country go to war, against the rest of the worlds pleading, to watch a few people in power get even richer, and then go out and have the balls to drive a Toyota Tundra, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, and put a sticker on your huge gas guzzling truck that says “support the troops”. If you have those kinds of balls.
you should eat a little shit.
And I feel like the shit should be a little gooey. That’s all I’m saying.
If you live in a country that has a war on drugs, and sends people to jail for years and years, and you also have television commercials where they sell you drugs that can make you bleed out of your ass, and die, and they tested them, and some people in fact, bled out of their asses and died.
I think maybe, you should eat a little shit.
If any, and I mean any asshole, talks about the sanctity of life, then puts a bill “back” saying it’s ok to sell machine guns again, we were just kidding about banning them. If anyone flip iggitty ops on that one.
I think maybe it’s time to gag a little on that “cock sandwich” that you made for yourself.
Maybe I’m glad that the fucking goes the other way sometimes. I don’t know. And to watch the news and hear the debates these people have, It feels like flying back in time, and I’m watching cavemen argue about sticks. You feel like screaming at them.”YES IT’S STICKS ALREADY, MOVE ON! ARE YOU THAT FUCKING STUPID?”
Maybe if we all eat a little more shit then we already are, just a little, we won’t celebrate dumb America so hard.
your pal Randy
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