Beer Saves The Day Again!

Howdy. You find me at the end of a long day. I flew just under 7 hours today for my first full day since arriving in Athens. The scenery down here is really pretty cool. The Appalachian Mountains distort the horizon to the North, and a large teal lake surrounded by forests and golf courses dominates the landscape below. If I had to pick an area to orbit for seven solid hours a day based on scenery, this would at least be a finalist. Other perks to this location include the fact that I’m not in any complex airspace, so I don’t have to be talking to any controllers. The ability to listen to my music as loud as I want without the fear of missing a traffic call improves the day markedly. It’s also a more serene setting than downtown Fort Worth to drop the drawers and urinate in a Gatorade bottle, for whatever that’s worth. Have I mentioned that I’m the Half-Naked King of The World?

I was sort of a zombie today due to my going out and listening to music last night at “Tasty World.” At 9:40, I was already worn out. I rationalized that I wouldn’t stay out too late and that the mile walk would do me good. I should have been in bed.

The first band billed themselves as “New wave power-pop silk-pajama-wearing magnificent smirking bastards.” “The Shut Ups” played synth-heavy, funk-disco-rock and the keyboard player/lead singer couldn’t have been more over the top. He reminded me of Jon Lovitz’s character in “The Wedding Singer.”

“Good luck finding a DJ who can move and shake like this!”

He had the same unjustified cockiness. He ate a sandwich on stage. He made like a choir director cutting off the applause after a song. He even looked a little like Mr. Lovitz. Maybe it was the silk pajamas.

By the time the second band, “Funkle Ester,” got on stage, I had already destroyed my self promise to get back early and get to bed. I only listened/danced to a couple of their 70’s disco covers before heading out. Bed time? Oh no. Time to satisfy the impulsive, late night, alcohol induced craving for a western omelet. I’ve always loved the atmosphere of a late night, college town diner on a weekend night and “The Grill” didn’t disappoint. My waitress was an art school grad with shiny blue hair and an equally shiny personality.

As I finally made my way back to the hotel, I noticed a lot of cars in a parking lot with no apparent venue. The store fronts were dark. No bar noise emanated from the building. I looked behind the strip-mall-esque building as I came to the cross street, and the back parking lot was packed as well. I decided to take the side street just to see what was back there. I was mildly creeped out by the verbal altercation taking place at the door to the hidden bar and by the police cars hovering about, so I looked and walked straight ahead. Maybe this whole “side street in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar town” wasn’t such a hot idea.

As I turned down the next block toward the hotel, I saw a body sprawled out on a storm drain at the side of the road. The old black man was clearly unconscious. I didn’t look too closely, though, as I passed. I considered trying to rouse him, but decided against it out of concern for my personal safety. That was my excuse anyway.

It was cold last night. I thought about my Great Aunt Ruth, such a beautiful soul, who last winter, in a state of confusion, left her nursing home in the middle of the night and succumbed to exposure at the side of a road. No one deserves to die like that.

I had the hotel desk clerk call the police and went out to make sure they found the man. I know. I'm such a great citizen. Hey, being the Half-Naked King of the World has its responsibilities. I'm still wondering about all of the “bad” decisions I’d made that led me to that side street at two in the morning. I should have been in bed.