Ten Year Reunion

"Remember when is the lowest form of conversation"

That quote from Tony Soprano is quite visceral and a little too harsh.  

but here I am, Ten years removed from high school
which I'm finding to be quite visceral and a little too harsh

I grew up in Georgetown 

and went to high school 18 miles down the road 

at a catholic joint called Bishop Fenwick

You know what... 

the backstory does not matter

this is about Now

Nostalgia will not pay my rent!

I'm working the Saturday after Thanksgiving

with a hot band 

a job I'd like to keep for a while

therefore I cannot attend the reunion

$22 per person is a little steep anyways! 

I offered to help plan something cool months ago 

the result was a royal cluster:

-people with jobs want to get dangerously drunk on a weekend evening

-people with children want to picnic on a weekday morning or early afternoon

I might get cheap thrills gawking at the ghosts of christmas past

but I'd rather rock out.  

if you knew me in high school this should not be a surprise.

How to Grow A Beard2: Grow Up, Please

there have been unsolicited genuine compliments about the beard
which seems necessary to growth
akin to watering a new plant

growing Down alright
I wish she would grow Up

there are chunks on each cheek
more or less symmetric

I can imagine them Filled In
with beard

it has been one month into the Journey
I'm going to hang until Thanksgiving
as a mandatory minimum
for the ration of beardrelatedshittalk from my extended family will surely

"put hair on your chest and fire in your belly"

as King Henry once said
hopefully in this instance
the hair in question
will grow on my face

The Nightly Grind

My father's morning alarm has gone off at 5a for as long as I can remember

*flashback*

We were young, but old enough to pick up on his pattern

that as he transitioned from the couch to bed for the night

he would first stop in the kitchen
and grind the coffee beans for the morning.

We were young but old enough to determine this to be a sign of Weakness

and we would heckle from the living room,

"Uh oh, Dad's grinding the beans"

"Bedtime for Dad"

"Feeling sleepy Dad?"

"Goodnight Dad"

---------------------

last week I started a new gig
helping to teach strings at Rockport Elementary School
it's not 5a but it's an early start nonetheless

and as I prepared for my first morning I blasted the coffee grinder

and instantly felt horrible
my beautiful old lady sleeping peacefully down the hall

that evening before bed I was grinding the beans for the next morning
and damned The Circle for spinning round and round