finest hour

all babies look like winston churchill

oldish

yup.

going to pick up the bi-foculs today.

have a hearing test and a visit to the shoulder specialist to discuss my rotator cuff tear.

got my blood pressure back down to normal.

take 9 pills a day.

have to feel guilty about ant carbs.

my daughter is talking about the boy that has a crush on her.

that last one i don't mind.

on war

"the war on terror is like a war on dandruff"
gore vidal

are you going to the onyx reunion?

good god, no. i worked there. tell me just how many ex-employees went...

the place was filthy and seriously falling apart, the coffee was sub-par, and the food was generally 'past it's date' shall we say. and i cooked there for a time, but a certain someone would keep stuff waaay past tossing it out phase. i'm surprised we were never shut down or sickened anyone.

even though i met some good folks there, had some fun, and a few good dates, it would be rather hypocritical of me to go considering what i thought of the vast number of patrons.

a very few were good.

a couple i can call friends.

the bulk were narcissistic whining 'arm chair quarterbacks' that wouldn't know the first thing about a real meaningful relationship or significant life experience if it hit them in the face. they just felt that reliving some sort of mythical 'boho' past would make them interesting. you can't play someone else's jazz.

don't even talk to me about the rampant sexism that fueled the place, or the drugs.

one of the few times i ever felt ready to kill somebody (seeing red, tunnel vision, imagining my hands around their throat) was after a typical, but 'final straw chat' with the owner. i quit that day.

i went back in as a customer a few years later. my two year old girl slipped on a crumbling window bench and split open her lip. there wasn't even a first aid kit in the place.

the cafe will forever be remembered fondly by those that had no real life but that sad and grotesque little place.