Nostalgia

Hi everyone. Sorry to be so lame lately, but here I am, and I have cleaned up with a shower, a shave, some Old Spice and a bouque of flowers to sit before you tonight to tell you how much I missed everyone and also to share a little nostalgia tonight. Now, if you don't actually care about any of this, I'll promise more geo-political trifle brilliance later.

I am blogging from my old bedroom in my parents house just outside of Philadelphia (Devon to be exact). This trip home is a weird one for me, as my parents are moving across the country in a few months, and that essentially makes it highly unlikely I'll be making anymore annual pilgrimages to City of "Brotherly Love" anymore. Of course, if I decide to marry Maria from South Philly that could all change, but although she has the body to stop traffic, I don't think I can make enough money to keep her in hair-spray and lip gloss. Also, I have a strong aversion to driving the modern-day IROC, the Mustang. Chances of a Philly reunion are waxing slim.

Sleeping in my old room for last time is a bit of a trip. This is the room where I learned every Van Halen lick ever played and first time that I took a girl and...

...sorry David Lee Roth just called and told me that my Mom and Dad still read this site, so I should stop here. David Lee Roth, the voice of my conscience.

Strange that I have much nostalgia for the place, as I couldn't wait to get out of here when I was here. Generally being a person that gets along with everyone, this area was quite tough to get close to anyone--especially in high school. However, although I didn't realize it at the time, I was learning a tremendous amount about getting along with difficult or closed people, and generally perservering through tough situations. I look around this room and I see the carpet stained in the sweat and tears from that time.

...wait, my mom just informed me that the stain on my carpet was actually caused from the vomit of a friend of mine that drank too much Jack Daniels on prom-night.

Well, today I took a ride with my parents out to Lancaster, PA. Amish country is, well, odd. It isn't everyday that you can say that you ate lunch in the town of Blue Ball, adjacent to the town of Intercourse, while getting seated and served by a midget.

Midgets and dwarfs, the last minority group that somehow escaped the identity politics that have decayed public discourse of any kind. I guess in the end, there are just things that are way too funny to fit under that all-inclusive umbrella.

Anyway, I'm headed to D.C. tomorrow, so it is highly unlikely I'll get to post anything. BUT, I will try to get something stuff up sporadically over holiday.

Keep sending your love, because I need it. I crave it. And David Lee Roth demands it.