simpleton's mayor

The whole office is down for the count. My o-mates and I are splitting the big bucks on antibacterial Kleenex. I am wary of things deemed antibacterial. I'm on a strict lozenge-n-drug cocktail, making my head fuzzy, so nothing today is making sense.

I also have a game tonight. It will be an astounding comic feat of slow reflexes and insanely terrible off-the-net sets, guaranteed to make our outside hitter, a guy named Steve who sports a white bandana, um... angry.

* * *

After reading Catbirdseat this morning re: Apple Box Collection, I wandered on over to XTC's page. Cripes, will you look at that discography. I occasionally forget that some bands have been around a long time. Some bands have more than two albums. No, really!

(Sidestory somewhat involving XTC, subtitled "Saved by the Bell- The College Years:" I worked as an RA to pay for my car. The building I was assigned to live in was composed of 85% male, further math-breakdown 40%/40% frat/jock, 5% athletes foot. It was simultaneously the best and worst year of my life, and some of those asshats stayed around so long they even made it to my wedding. (Unconfirmed but a pretty solid bet: they may/may not have hooked up with some of my friends that night.)

I was upstairs in an unnamed fraternity suite (think "southern", think "gentlemen") getting a key duplicated, or watching "Friday" with his roommates, or whatever you did at age 20ish/in the '90s, when I noticed an out-of-place poster hanging on the cinderblock wall.

A flood of strange emotions fills a young girl's head at a time-stopping point like this, emotions that come with a metallic taste - has she underestimated these hulking underlings; tall, white-hatted, worshipping at the altar of DMB? Beings constructed of stubbly flesh, plaid flannel and handles of Yukon Jack? Menchildren who's entire breath-cycle revolved around freshman trim?????

"You like XTC? That's cool, I never would have guessed."

At this point you can probably imagine the look that was given to me. It was as if I was a brontosaurus, and had suddenly materialized from OUTER SPACE. Turns out, it was a... "pass-down?" From an older fraternity brother? And so he had to keep it up on the wall of his dorm suite?

I'm not even sure what this means.
He wasn't quite sure who XTC was.

XTC sounded like a drug so maybe that was cool, you tell me. It became my own little private thing- to know this kid was living upstairs from me, his Skylarking poster sandwiched between discongruous* wallart: Belushi in his "College" sweater, a Coors Light model.

I don't know, but it made me happy, and I used to blast my Plan 9-purchased brand new Upsy Daisy Assortment at ridiculous levels because of that particular poster; because of him, a frat guy; because of Andy Partridge; because I was 20 and liked people- a soundtrack/ode to my boozy brick little commune.

Well, that and "Mo Money Mo Problems." Obvs.)

* * *

Where was I?

I forget. Anyhoos. Send chicken noodle soup, and LUV.







* This is a word, right? Please god, do not tell me I am making up words. I blame the snot. It has a life of it's own.