Atomictumor

Got this stuck in my head.

I’m sitting in the back yard, with the laptop on my lap, as the sun goes down and the crickets chirp up their always crescendoing music of late summertime business. I’ve spent the last five minutes actually on Myspace, of all places, leaving as cryptic as I can come up with messages on peoples things, and wondering exactly why it is that I’ve been doing that, while surrounded by nature’s cacophony, with the vague feeling that ants are crawling down my pants.

To say that my day was wonderful would be a sublime understatement, I had the nicest day, following the nicest weekend. I had planned for an extra day to be added to my Labor Day (which, I still maintain, is a communistic holiday, so fly your flags all day long but remember ol’ AT telling you to thank Karl Marx for it), to coincide with the day off that the ladyfriend (which, I haven’t maintained yet, but might just start, isn’t the best name for her on this thing, but she’s not very forthcoming in coming up with a new one) had, and we had some sort of vague idea of going up to her family lakehouse.

Which we did, and had a lovely time.

I’ve been seeing The Beauty all around me quite often lately, as it seems that most everything is slipping nicely into place. The only real iron in the fire is the vague feeling that my parenting is lousy, but from what I’ve always heard from the good parents, if you think you’re a lousy parent, you’re actually doing a good job. I think its the same kind of thinking applied to if you think you can breath underwater, you actually can, except that drowning is not supposed to be involved.

I digress.

No, work is going very nicely. The ladyfriend and I are getting along very well and overcoming many of those interesting, varied, and unnamed obstacles involved in being a widower dating (and dating a widower, which I wouldn’t really wish on a tick). The kids like her, the friends like her, the family (thats met her) like her, and most importantly, I like her, quite a bit.

Peachy keen.

So, point is, we had a damn good day. As I sit out here, vaguely wishing I had a beer, or a coffee, or something nice in my hand, I’m waiting on her to show back up over here, where we have some sort of plan of watching Kill Bill or something like that.

Yep. A peaceful easy feeling, except I hate (as The Dude before me did) the f—ing Eagles.

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Today was Pigpen’s first soccer practice, and he ran around like a champ. Its so amazingly fun to watch the joy of a 5 year old in action.

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Oh yeah, I completely forgot, one of the reasons I’m in such a great mood is that I found out, while tooling on myspace, that Christabel and the Jons are going to be at Oodles again on Friday night. Sounds good to me. And yes, they’re one of my Myspace friends. See, I’m kinda connected.

So this weekend the mighty city of K-town is throwing “the largest ska festival in the nation” down at the old city.

I’m planning on representing.  Now, I’m not big on the ska, myself, but Nodbob, well, thats another issue.  Which brings up many conversations in his Mustang, where ska plays preeety much non-stop.

AT: “Dude, you know this music all sounds like exactly the same, right”

Nodbob: “Hippy”

And so it goes.

But this weekend, well, ol’ Nodbob’s going to make the long and ardous journey from Atlanta to the Ridge, where we’re going to spend the weekend partaking of 30 or so ska bands, and probably a lot of beer.  MastaG and maaaaybe Pigpen are going to be joining us, along with the ladyfriend and whoever else shows up.  Bos has expressed an interest in getting his skanking on.

Ah, skanking.  I must confess, I’ve never been able to pull off a sucessful skankin’.   That needs to be rectified, so I did some internetting, and came across a user guide.

So, we’re all learned.  Now all I have do is find me some plaid pants, or maybe a black jacket and tie.  The ubitiqous Bonnaroo hat will have to do for the headware, tho…

I’ve been watching quite of bit of Flight of the Conchords.

Its like a Tenacious D thats actually funny, instead of loud and irritating. A New Zealand, lower key, talented, hilarious, horribly booked music duo.

You’d figure I have more to say about it.

I’ll just cheat with more YouTubage.

Tape of love, baby.

Man, the Violent Femmes are all in court and pissed off at each other.

Can’t we all just get along?