August Birthdays abound. Leos and virgos and drinking, oh my!
Old Faithful celebrated 21 on the 12th, though she suffered not having enough restraint that evening. Hey C-Did-Dogg, if it makes you feel better, there are people who really need to be called "dyke" and have bathroom doors kicked in on them -- especially when you've just met them.
My father and uncle celebrated 48 on the 13th, a Friday. Mi Padre's name is Rusty. He's Rusty Horne. I wish someone had been oblivious to some sort of irony when they named me. His real name is William David. If you want to piss him off, call him Willie D.
Tacayla breaks into her 20s this Monday, the 16th. She's been celebrating all year.
For those wondering, I'll be twenty-six hundred on the 31st.
We all celebrated getting drunk on the 14th, a Saturday. The throwdown took place in Eatonton on the shores of Lake Sinclair's beautiful brown waters at my Aunt Candy's house. And the whole crew was there: Mom, Candy, Debbie and Donnie, Shermie, Jimmy and Barbara, Bunky and Brenda, Uncle Danny and of course, Dad. This are my people. They were the primary source of entertainment for me when I first returned to the midstate two years ago. I blended into the society of the middle-aged where wine in a box was preferred over a good bougelais, and karaoke had won favor over conversations about theology, literature and sociology. It was a grand time, a renaissance of fun for yours truly.
The lake parties, however, have become less frequent over the past year. There's an intensity in that limitation that makes it feel a little more special and it uses birthdays as good excuses. This one was for Pops, Danny, Candy and Debbie R. My mom is a Debbie as well. Debbie H. is my mom.
Newcomers were in the house. Moms had a date who we'll call Fender Bender because he brought a guitar to a karaoke fight. Tagging along with me -- one on each arm vastly improving my right and left sides -- were Tacayla and Amidala Amelie. Indeed, my public relations expert later confirmed what I already expected: all in attendance rightly believe me to be quite the pimp.
I was running an hour late getting the ladies together and thus we were an hour late getting to the party. It worked out just fine because an hour late meant an hour drunk, so it was hoppin' already when we showed up. Tacayla and Double A were quick to smack up Captain Morgan like he was their personal bitch while I aspired to a low-key sustained buzz on Budweiser alone. However, the Sherm kept walking around with a replenishing tray of Jell-o shots replete with Bacardi 151. I had 10 before the night was through and the beer was like sobering up. Do you know what's in Jell-o? I only care when alcohol isn't.
While I had the pleasure of giving hugs and catching up with the people, Sweet T and Amidala got their drink on in the corner. It was a pleasure to watch them socially lubricate to get their mingle on later. Such outgoing women! Amidala talked 70's music with Fender Bender, then took her honed skills over to Pops to win his approval. Tacayla was simply fearless in her quest to scare all the old people. Each demanded Moms assistance in getting me to marry them. God only knows what else they want.
Somewhere in the middle of this and with the help of my old friend, intoxication, I grabbed the mike and performed for my adoring crowd. To be perfectly honest, I've been holding to a dream where I get to be a singer of the blues, country and other blue collar music. I shan't let it go and that's why I brought a couple of karaoke CDs for myself. Southern Rock and the Blues. I coaxed my dad to get up with Elvin Bishop who fooled around and fell in love. We kicked it to the Black Crowes in a public service announcement called "Hard to Handle".
Amidala's name was called and the demand was accompanied by Tacayla who helped her get through "My Girl." Later on, I sang Frank -- the first time I'd proclaimed to have done it my way.
Every so often, I was rousted out by the locals to put on a show and eventually the time came for some sweet soul music. It was time for Otis Redding. It was time to Try A Little Tenderness. Let's just say, all give some and I gave all. Sweat and heart and soul poured out of every pore and even some orifaces. It wasn't pretty but it was real.
Exhausted, I sat on the porch with Pops, Bunky, Amidala and Tacayla. We chatted and fractioned and began again. Then Double A and I strolled down to the dock of the lake. It was a lovely place to sit and talk. A large spider played witness.
Donny and Debbie got in their boat and left. The party was just about over so the two of us went back to the house to take advantage of a couple empty microphones. We ran through the songs that we didn't get to sing -- I because of time and her part due to a shortage of inebriation. Oh how proud would Ram Jam be had they heard us do a tribute to Black Betty? And representing the streets, we offered ourselves as a sacrifice to the Allman Brothers giving others the impression that they had been tied to the Whipping Post.
Finally, the music relented and let us go. It was time to close shop so we grabbed things and loaded up. Mom, with a Mike's Hard Lemonade in hand, refused to be driven home so we followed her down the winding roads along the lake -- and for those who don't know, those roads are hard enough to navigate safely sober in broad daylight. It was impressive. She was driving about 15 miles an hour too fast but never seemed to have any trouble. I think her eyes were closed. I know mine were.
Amidala was swift with a backhanded compliment about not taking out mailboxes. Moms later and only slightly more sober with headache in hand asked, "Which one of them said I almost ate a mailbox?! One of the blonds said I was going to hit a mailbox. One of them said it." I waxed ignorant to protect my friend.
For consolation, I suppose, Amidala then got on the phone with Old Faithful. Apparently, she was shaken. Tacayla sat on the porch with Moms and I having a winde down smoke. I coaxed Sweet T to bed for sweet sleep and afterward, as I was saying, "One down," I found my mom on the couch already passed out. "One to go."
With those who needed sleep in places where they could, I ushered Amidala with a flashlight to the dock where she could talk and I could doze off under the stars. Unfortunately, I was actually interested in her half of the convo, so I didn't get to doze but I did a fair bit of gazing until clouds obscured my view.
I've thought several times that we have a lot in common, which is why the dialogue is so strong. Similiar backgrounds and similiar responses to them. She relayed again the difficulty she has being true to thineownself and I confessed my secret crush. Vocal and intimate and intelligent -- on a roll, some would say -- we took turns being passionate about one thing or another. All in all, we smoked a few cigarettes, dangled our feet in the muddy waters and complained of bug bites. Around 6am, we called it a night.
The TV was a little distraction but I couldn't hack it any longer so I laid down in the bedroom with the fewest spiders in it. When she wanted to sleep, I insisted she take that bed and I grabbed the couch. The other beds in the house were either covered in spiderwebs (it residing in a haunted room) or my grandmother's. I have a problem with both since they host different ghosts.
At noon, Tacayla rousted me from my sleep and I felt like I'd fallen down the steps. For lunch, we ordered pizza from a gas station, and the ladies made friends with a large beetle outside. Our food came in a bag because they didn't have any boxes left. They drank different brands of cream soda.
On the road to Gray, I checked my voicemail messages and found out a friend of mine had been in a wreck. One of her rear tires blew, lost the tread and threw her off the road into a ditch, left hanging upside down. To my amazement, I later and thankfully discovered that she was fine except having lost her car and gaining a few cuts on her feet. It was a somber end to a grand weekend as bittersweet as seeing my lovely companions go about the rest of their day without me.
I went home and took a nap. Later, I shaved.
No comments:
Post a Comment