(alt. title: "TG for TGI Friday's")
Flew to Colorado yesterday, and as has become customary because I'm an idiot, I assumed that there would be about a four-hour security delay at Hartsfield-Jackson Shitty Airport. So when I got through security in (the usual) 20 minutes or so, with only one security person berating me, I had nothing to do but sit around. So, as you'd expect, I went hunting for a drink. Sure, it was 10:30 am, but I was on vacation, so don't judge me, dammit.
Good freaking luck -- in the Delta (main) terminal at Hartsfield, one bar has closed down (it's going to be replaced by a Sweetwater brewpub, which will be great, but I exist in the here and now, and the prospect of a future brewpub puts me no closer to a drink now), and just about all the other dining options are Sbarro's or Popeye's Chicken. Both of which, I'm sure, have their uses, but drinking ain't one.
I finally found the aforementioned TGI Friday's, kind of tucked away. The bar, I noted with some satisfaction, was operating at full capacity -- obviously I'm not the only person who wants to flush his life away.
* * *
Anyway, yep, back in Boulder, with all the natural beauty and disconcerting unreality that goes along with my hometown. I'm typing this out in the Bookend Cafe on Pearl Street, and noticing that I'm the only person here with any body fat. I'm also probably the only person here who didn't bicycle 42 miles this morning.
Adding to the strangeness, I rented a SUV for the trip -- not my normal mode of transportation. It has all sorts of blind spots and weird sightlines, but as long as I never reverse or change lanes, I should be ok.
* * *
Two albums I've rediscovered after ignoring for years: Rocket From the Crypt "Circa: Now!" and Jets to Brazil "Four-Cornered Night." I sort of lost interest in RFTC over the years as they churned out a slew of mediocre albums, but boy was Circa great. Maybe the greatest party album ever, he said with only a touch of hyperbole. Friends back in Atlanta can look forward to me playing this over and over in coming weeks. You're welcome! J2B, meanwhile -- I thought their other two albums were coma-inducing, but somehow they really hit it right with "Four-Cornered Night." This prompted me to write a really fawning article in my pal Brian's "Soundboard" magazine during my very short career as a freelancer.
* * *
Oh, shit, bearded man setting up with bongo drums just about 30 feet away. Suddenly many of Boulder's bad points come flooding back.