Blood Boiling

The clock has ticked past the 24 hour mark, and inside of a calender day, I'll be staring across a sea of teenage angst and hormones, at this band from my past. 41 years old, and punk still takes me right back. I just hope this old heart and body can take it, 'cause given half a chance, I'll be wading in neck deep! From what I hear of the venue, we may have to bend some rules to get down front. These boys are not only not dead, but are still throwing down. They've been around ever since I discovered the allure of screaming fast guitar riffs and sheer irreverence. Dig around and you can find TV clips of them back in the early 80's, looking like Lil' Ball and Ice Berg, but wearing clothes from my era. Grafin's voice doesn't even sound like it's cracked yet, back then. There were angrier, and there were more heavy bands around, but this band has stood the test of time, in my book.

To top it off, they're the opening band.



This is the main event. Rise against has been a top 3 favorite of mine, from the new school era. I had tickets to see them in Atlanta, back in 2007, and got sick as a dog coming home from RAAM, and had to bail. That has plagued me ever since. I'm not missing the train at the station this time.

Just pulling these vids for this post has me bouncing off the walls, Time to knock back a cold beer, and slow things down....until tomorrow night that is.

Stolen Time

This morning I decided I had no desire to drive my truck. Usually, my job does not allow for a choice, but today, I had no inspections. I pulled out the Lynskey, and rolled for the office. I was stressed as I left home, but the worries melt away with the morning humidity. The fresh springtime Tallahassee smells brought a smile to my face.

This extra riding time feels stolen, as if I'm playing hookie. I had a doctors appointment today, and I rode to that, too. All day, I've been looking forward to the ride home. This is the way a work day should be. Little gems of goodness interspersed with the drudgery of explaining to the bean counters, that yes, our real estate market is in fact, still in the toilet.

If you can swing it, I strongly recommend the occasional commute, not to make some political or environmental statement, but for a much more selfish reason. Do it because it just feels good.

Key West Pics

Another Year Closer...

Yesterday was my birthday, and all in all, it went pretty well. I mean, I didn't get robbed, like we did on Ms Worm's birthday. I wasn't stuck in an airport, like we were on Ms. Worm's birthday. The worst thing that happened on my birthday was having to go to work. I'm not about to bitch about that, given her nightmare celebration.

I tried to kill myself with food, though. Lil' Ball and I tabled up at Riccardos, and enjoyed what is, in my opinion, one of the best hot subs in T-town. After lunch, the office folk had baked a cake, so I partook. 20 minutes later, Ms. Worm walks unexpectedly through the door, carrying evil good cupcakes. Not wanting to disappoint clydesdales the world over, I indulged yet again. I spent the afternoon trying to imagine the technicolor icing foam I was gonna hurl rolling into the sprint on the Joe's Ride.

The ride was a good time. Wrecking Ball finally made it back out on a road ride, and in true form, he sprinted for about 50 yellow signs! Perry Mason even came out, as did Mark R, and at the last minute, Lil' Ball rolled around the corner, so instead of being the solo BC guy, I had a crew of 5.

Afterwards, we hit up Sonny's for some BBQ. It's been a long while since we've done the ride/grub double, and I miss it. Ms. Worm journeyed back across town to meet us, and 4 friends sat around bullshitting until after the restaurant had closed.

Thanks for the love folks. It made for damn fine birthday!

Violated!

Our trip to the Keys was pretty successful. We made our flights south with little hassle. We navigated driving through N. Cuba, to reach the Keys without getting kidnapped and sold into slavery. I saw my brother get married. Nobody died during any of the partying, and I was only called a conehead once, by a smartass bar comedian/singer.

Of note, I have to say I was surprised at the early confirmation of a stereotype at the first convenience store I entered. We were on the road and headed south, when I was dying for my drink of choice, the diet coke. I know, it's bad for me and all that. Whatever, you gotta die of something. First stop, no less, and the lady behind the counter doesn't speak any English, whatsoever. A series of grunts, head shaking, and points scored me a $2 fountain drink, that tasted like carbonated piss. Apparently the national language carries little weight south of Ft Lauderdale. Poor beverage service, that's nationwide. You just have to find the local spots who take pride in their business.

I'll get pics from the trip posted later, the real story is what I'm here to vent. Sunday afternoon, we drive back up to Ft Lauderdale, to have dinner with Lil' Ronnie. No sweat. A ton of traffic, but overall, no biggie. Monday morning, we have breakfast with Ron again, and head for the airport. All still flowing rather smoothly. We get to Atlanta, and the hassles begin. Our flight to T-town is delayed a half hour. We find lunch, and return to the gate to find we've been bumped another half hour. This delaying continues until our flight that was supposed to arrive in Tally at 5:10, now is not scheduled to leave ATL until 8:30! Around 6:50, I notice our flight is no longer on the gate board. A quick chat and I find out the flight is now cancelled, but if we can get across 3 terminals in 15 minutes, we can catch a 7:30 bound for home. A mad dash ensues, but we score.

Back in town at 9, and home by 9:30, only to find the front door unlocked. Ms Worm is immediately mad, as I have a history of leaving doors unlocked. I'm running through my memory of leaving, in a panic, quite sure I locked the door. As I specifically remember returning to lock the door in the pouring rain, she tells the television is gone. Now I'm completely doubting my memory! As I follow her in, I'm gutted to know we've been robbed, but at the same time relieved to see that half of the back door jamb is laying in the dining room floor. Bastards kicked in my door!

They got my television, both of our laptops, Ms Worm's jewelry box, a shotgun, and a few other small electronics. We don't have much, but they cleaned out anything of quickly sold value we had.

Did I mention yet, that it was Ms Worm's birthday. Happy Birthday, honey! Welcome home, now give all your shit to somebody else for your birthday.

The heirloom family jewelry is the biggest physical loss. That stuff isn't replaceable. More than that, I hate seeing my wife scared in her own house. They took her feeling of security, more than anything else. The cops say they arrested 3 guys over the weekend, that they believe are tied to a string of burglaries within a mile of our house, that went down last Wednesday. I asked if she'd mind running them by my house, and waiting outside for about 30 minutes, while we "discussed" a few things. I know vigilante justice is not the answer, but right now, I'm pissed! I'm a pretty tolerant person, but given the chance of retaliation, at the moment, I'd jump all over it. Right now, we sleep Dirty Harry style, with a loaded firearm within arm's reach and the bedroom door locked. I know that there is a one in a million chance that anyone will return to our house anytime soon, but if it helps her sleep better, then so be it. Anybody got any recommendations on security system companies?