Flight of the Navigator

From here on out, I'm going to title my blogs with movies I watched as a kid. That is, until I get tired of doing it this way and then I'll switch to something else like using whatever comes to mind when I take a crap. And speaking of movies I watched as a kid, this one for today is a special one. It was one of my favorites as a wee lad and that had nothing to do with the motormouthed robot thing.

It was the idea that someone could go missing for years and years without ever changing -- physically, emotionally, spiritually. Nothing about that kid changed except for the world to which he returned. That recent USA miniseries thing reminded me of it crossed with X-Files. Anyway, I was fascinated with the notion and it opened for me an obsession with going missing.

Sometimes I 'disappear' and people've noted that, but I've never done it the way I want to. One day, I just want to be gone even if I'm only holing up in a motel on the other side of town. Doing that for a couple of weeks or a few years would be nice. I'd live as I pleased and be in disguise constantly. Incognito. But no, I won't because I have family and friends. For some reason, I can't even seem to go to the bathroom without telling someone.

Years and years later when I was making my mark in Nashville, I visited some friends at Vanderbilt and was told that I looked like the boy from The Flight of the Navigator. This by the same person who said I didn't look like an athlete, I looked like a bowler. That remark came fresh on the heels of a long and prolific career in baseball. (By long and prolific, I mean I played for a while and it was fun, nothing else).

Moving right along. I said there shouldn't be a blog entry dedicated to the events of yesterday because it should have been a lame duck sort of day. I was going to cater a benign little function at the Sports Hall of Fame, then I had plans that were no one's business.

At the Sports Hall of Fame, I experienced a completely different level of catering compared to the previous. It was calm and simple -- not a thing of beauty but nothing tough. Well, at one point, someone in the large and crowded room stepped on my broken toe which was in a regular dress shoe. I asked the boss to let me rest it after the next rush so I could make it through the night.

This was her reply: "If you're not going to be worth anything to me then you might as well leave after the next rush. You stay through it, then just go."

She'd already told me earlier not to "ask [her] stupid questions" in response to a question I had about where to find something that she owned because she'd told me to get it.

I grant people a lot of leeway in their dealings with me. I understand long days and frustrations and what those things do to one's attitude. However, I've long understood that this particular person believes she can treat anyone as she pleases, so I could only let her talk to me like a child one time.

Okay, I wasn't that much of a hard ass. I didn't want to just walk about because Rza/Beige Suga had gotten me the job and since she had a real job with the woman, I didn't want to make waves. However this dear and lovely lady came over to me and asked what was up, if the boss had been 'mean'. I explained and she said, "Go. If I were you, I'd go."

With Rza's blessing, I skipped town before that aforementioned rush and it was all I could do not to address my concerns with the boss in front of the assembled wedding reception guests.

It felt good, but it was still damned aggrevating. I may not have a college degree and I may not have a steady income. I may live with my mother and I may drive a boxy wagon. In other words, I may not be the guy you've always been looking for... but, I have my pride and I am worth a few hundred damns. That I have a handful of people on my side -- people who see this and agree -- is usually all I need but sometimes, that condescending attitude it all it takes to piss me right the fuck off.

Judge not lest ye be judged because when truth comes to shove and the balances are tallied, you won't be happy with how you stack up against me.

And, not you YOU, but you know... them.

When I got home, I briefly relished the unexpected ass-whooping that the Bulldawgs handed the LSU Tigers before I worked to confirm my plans for the evening. Injury to insult, they fell through and being the ass I am, I did nothing much to hide my disappointment despite the fact it would have been a logistically bad idea to follow through. Sometimes, I just want what I want and damn the consequences. Bah.

I worked on that screenplay some, which I should be doing now, because I had a revelation of sorts this week. Doing this, I ran out of smokes which is like running out of gas if I'm writing anything -- if I'm signing my name, I like to do it with a cigarette between my lips.

So I had to go to the store which is about five miles away and getting there means I'm firmly out of the house so I called Tangle My Nangle. To see what she was doing, to see if it was safe to go out.

Now, I know better than this. I still don't have a license and if alcohol's involved, I'm only running a higher risk. Still, I went down to Liz Reeds.

Enter baby mama drama.

When I get there, there is some sort of controversy at hand and honestly, I could care less. I didn't involve me and wouldn't keep me from drinking a little. So I wish both sides well and yes, I'd like a whiskey and coke.

I'm a gadfly, whatever that means. I go in and I talk to whomever I see first. In this case as with all the others, this meant Nicole (who is not apparently Daisy's sister... go figure). Then it was Tangle and Mr. Rugby who sat with her. Eventually Dr. Dre joined the party and upon a trip to the bathroom, I saw Raspy Tina. Coming to the bar and trying to get in my pants with the offer of a free beer: Tiny Reba. On my next bathroom excursion, I met High Bird -- a myspace entity who'd been only a rumor before. Then I met a Penthouse Pet, the Scorpio. It was all great fun.

But... but... I ran into an old, old long forgotten friend, Nuttlick. This is what we called him and often to his face. He was only sometimes the Gay Taxi because some of Macon's homosexual population had a proclitivity for calling him and persuading him to drive them around. It was definitely one of those long time, no see sort of moments. Soft and gentle, tap dancing on memories and cute, apparently because Franny D gushed and sighed sarcastically. Asking, "Did you guys just have a moment?"

I issued my favorite response that night, "Shut up! I will stab/shoot you."

We let things be after a while and I ended up being a typical drunkard. Talking, talking, talking.

Man, I'm too tired for this. Here, I'm just going to do this in bulletin points:

--Columbia Chris and I finally made a formal acquaintence.
--High Bird, Raspy Tina, Tiny Reba and the Scorpio invited me to endeavor on civil disobedience.
--I left but stopped to talk to Big John.
--Which left me available to talk to Riddle when he returned.
--Which left me open to an invitation to get Steak n Shake with Jason and Dre.
--Which lead me to a Number 2 breakfast with extra Silver Dollar hashbrowns.
--Which got me to bed at 5:30am or so.

I work tomorrow and for a while, then I'm leaving and I think I'm going to stay away for a long, long time -- Christmas and maybe Thanksgiving excluded.

Good day.