AAAAH JEEZ. I’m back in Minneapplesauce after one of the most surreal weekends I think I’ve ever had. For those of you who dropped me a note axking how it went, alls I can say is hell yes.
I am pretty much at a complete lack of words and description of the weekend and the events that transpired other than that. For me to have a lack of words is a rare thing as many of you may know. But at the end of the trip at the airport, I found myself wanting to kick my own ass because I wasn’t ready to leave yet. At least not without a couple of souvenirs that sadly would not fit into my suitcase. Well, maybe one of them would, I guess. But there aren’t any airholes in my luggage and they could very well suffocate during transit… that’s the last thing I’d want to happen.
I was in extremely rare form during my adventure: that being nervous. But I technically didn’t know I was, because my body manifests nervousness in fucked up subliminal kinds of ways. Example: I can play a show in front of a large crowd (it has happened a few times believe it or not) and feel 200 percent at ease in my mind and say whatever far fetched thing comes to mind to the audience. But then I look down and realize I’m sweating like a madman. So yeah, nerves were subconsciously running amok like that for the most part, but that’s just part of being a human being, I reckon.
It was well worth the trip though, let me tell you. Great story to tell the grandkids when I’m old and sipping on my chocolate malt flavored Ensure, dribbling it down my scruffy chin and onto my powder blue leisure suit all the while:
Grandkids: “Grampa – tell us about that one time you went to New York!”
Grampa Micycle: “Well it was a night just like tonight..”
looking out the window off into the distance
Grandkids: “GRAMPA! TELL US THE NEW YORK STORY!”
Grampa Micycle: “Well, it was a cold night…”
looking out window again into the distance
Grampa Micycle’s noggin: *thud*
Grandkids: “Grammmmmmmmpaaaaaaaa!! Wake up and tell us about
New York! Come on!”
Grampa Micycle: “All right, all right. Gather around now. Does everyone have an adequate supply of candy?”
Grandkids: “YESS!”
Grampa Micycle: “I don’t believe you. Let me see your hands and hear you scream CANDY!“
I pan over kid’s hands covered with chocolate smudges and full of candy and am deafened by candy scream request. I’ll wince a little, because usually old people’s ears and little kids screaming don’t mix very well, or so I hear.
I then cross my left leg over the other and get situated. I reach into my pocket…
Grampa Micycle: “Okay. First, here’s some individually wrapped moist towelettes for you to use. Your hands are filthy. These will not only clean them off, but make your hands smell like Fruit Loops as well.”
“So anyways. It was a cold, cold night. Just like tonight..”
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And then? Out the movie camera zooms. What follows is a touching 2 hour Hallmark made for tee vee movie starring Johnny Depp’s kid as a young me walking into the Minneapplesauce/St. Paul aero plane terminal. Ace Frehley’s New York Groove
kicks in as the soundtrack and I’ve got my brown suitcase and green backpack in tow.
Yep, it was a real good time, it was. That’s alls I can say fo now, ‘cause I need me some coffee big time.
p.s. – FYI, I’m getting me a shovel, digging up Wisconsin, Michigan, and all those stupid big lakes, putting NY on a trailer, and sliding it over to the left a thousand miles or so. Anyone want to help?