5-1: More than a cool summer breeze

Shalom this evening, readers. Tonight's title comes from something I said to Eric this afternoon.

There's something dark, I think, inside all of us. And until recently, that something was growing out of my right big toe. Today was fixing to be a pretty ordinary day. I woke up and satiated my now-prevalent addiction to coffee. I came back and jawed with Eric a bit about the weather. I got a little down, a little lonely, a little tired, a little rustrated with my future and present, and a little more lonely. I watched TV for a while, and then decided to figure out something to do. Ordinary stuff. Then Eric said he was going to go out and buy shorts, or I said I was going to HMV, or whatever, and it was decided we'd hit the mall together.

So after the lunchhour (during which I didn't eat anything,) we went ahead on our, but it started to drizzle a bit. So we turned back. We hung out for a while, I read some of On the Road (I've been tearing through it lately, as a result of a mostly-inexplicable 2-year delay on that.) Then we were on the porch and realized it was suddenly sunny again. "Fuck it," I figured, cramming the umbrella in my pocket, "Let's just go, I'm bored." So off we went in search of shorts and CD's. As we walked, we spoke (as we usually do) about various story ideas for comics or movies we may or may not work on, and he noted, "I like this weather, a cool summer breeze through the trees." Then he corrected himself and noted that it was not summer yet, and I said, "wby split hairs, it's two days."

He was looking around and I was idly browsing when I came across a pair of dark shorts. "Are these my size?" They looked small. I tried 'em on, and they fit so I bought them. It turned out to be a good idea, as I'll explain in a bit. After all, I only own two other pairs of shorts... I was wearing one and the other was in the wash, or at least waiting to be. So then we went over to HMV, and the thing I wanted was right at the front of the store, where I knew it would be given my general familiarity with the store layout (they've re-arranged a lot since January but the charts and new releases won't change. It's the store's scheme.)

Because I was intensely interested in hearing it without delay, and because it was at a good price, I bought the White Stripes' new album, Icky Thump. I don't believe I've ever bought an album immediately upon release before, or even been in a hurry to get it. The closest I've come was getting Aerosmith's Just Push Play a few months later on a lark. I bought White Blood Cells sometime after the band started making waves, Elephant seemingly long after it was relevant, and by the time I got Get Behind Me Satan, they had already recorded this one (to say nothing of the Raconteurs!)

Am I glad I bought the album? Yeah. It's quite different from the other three. Oh-so-much more rock. It's like, I don't know, Zeppelin or Steppenwolf or Sabbath or AC/DC at some places. But of course it's imminently recognizeable as being the same band who recorded The Denial Twist, I Want To Be The Boy To Warm Your Mother's Heart and Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground. I'll have to give it a few more listens to see which tracks stay with me, but at this point it looks like it's going to be You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do What You're Told) at the top.

So after I make the chit-chat with the counter gang at HMV (some of whom remember me, some I suspect do not,) we headed back out, noticing through the skylight of Oakville Place that the sky has, apparently, turned black. Or at least an impenetrable grey. It's going to rain. And hard. A wind cut through us. "That's a little more than a cool summer breeze."

The clouds looked like massive grey-black bombursts. A deep barrier of accumulated vapor set to unleash a wrath upon us. For about half the walk we strolled against the breeze with a few droplets hitting us. I tucked my overshirt away in the bag with my shorts for preservation. About halfway up the hill at Kent, it began. Fwoosh.

Faaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwoooooossssshhhhhaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh.

I had my umbrella and it helped some, but the shoes were hit bad in the bargain. Generally, the lower half of my body was soaked, the upper half was ok. So I had to go change into my new shorts and find new socks.

Several years ago... and I'd have to search the blog to find out when exactly it happened (my gut tells me April 2005,) my mom ran over my foot. At the time I thought it was no biggie, but sometime after, it began to consistently hurt. Uh oh, I thought. And sometime after that, I clipped the nail, and it just never grew back. Or so it seemed. I imagine it was, in fact, ingrown, but I'm no podiatrist so I'm not going to say that was definitely the case. I was very shy about appearing barefoot as a result. Something like a year ago, I noticed some growth, as well asa peculiar development... layers. The once-maybe-ingrown nail was now being forced out of my body attached to younger, healthy enamel. The consequence of this was that I now had a double-or-triple-thick toenaiul that could not be clipped by conventional means. It was very sensitive and anytime I stubbed it, oooh mama I was crippled. And over time, it became a long, jagged, unsightly physical manifestation of every sick twisted thing in the universe. Perhaps. Or just a gross nail.

As a result of having soaked my socks and shoes, I had to spend a certain amount of time barefoot, during which point I examined the nail. It looked like a formidable opponent, but I think it may have developed a weak spot, like the Death Star. I had to take the opportunity. Several rounds of clipping (and filing!) later, and here I am, with a nail that generally resembles normalcy.

So there you have that.

I'm not gonna lay a trip of negativity out there tonight. I think it's a good night for relaxation, unwinding, and reflection. I hope you're out there, feeling those warm vibrations, and using them to assuage you aching soul. Shalom.

My oh my won't ya keep on rockin'
-Scott