Thrift Shop Band


Gregg and I like going to thrift sites to find interesting and random things. I’ve found some really cool statutes, and really crazy masks. It’s fun, and relaxing, and occasionally we bring home good books, or useful items.

Yesterday we found ourselves in yet another isle in yet another thrift shop. We found a couple rain sticks, and every time I found a new one I picked it up to listen to the rain. In this Isle I picked one up, listened to it, then walked a couple get to find another. As I picked it up a girl at the other end picked up the one I found earlier.

“Oh look, we can start a band,” I said, and we both made it rain.

Her friend giggle, then I handed her a minny thumb drum and said “you shouldn’t be left out.”

“One more instrument and we can have a four man band,” said the first girl with the rain stick.

I obliged and handed Gregg a maraca.

There, in the middle of the thrift store Isle, we played a little ditty. It was terrible, but it was fun.

You’re never too old to have fun.


Drunk Writing

I am amazed by all the stories about people who wrote, painted, or created while dunk or high. I know, this shouldn’t amaze me. I’ve read some interesting books on LSD, and the scientific studies that were done before the bathtub version was available outside the laboratory. It is all quite fascinating.

I say this as a person who has never done anything harder then a shot of whiskey.

Here I am, after drinking a bottle of “Mocha Death” from Iron House Brewery (the best beer EVER btw) and… I couldn’t write if my life depended on it.

Well… I’m writing this. I’m also expecting to do terrible things with it.

I think the idea behind a substance and creating, be it art, writing, or whatever, is simply this: when you are slightly tipsy you turn of that internal voice that is constantly whispering at you that you are going to fail, you are wrong, your writing/art/whatever is AWFUL!

The trouble I have with the whole thing is that when I wake up completely and entirely sober I am going to come back to this and read it. The spelling will be correct, but only because of those ugly little red squiggle lines under so many of my words. But the grammar? The flow? The ideas behind it.

I think I’m going to post this anyway. And to all my brethren who have a nice glass of wine while sitting down to write that long epic that has been brewing in your mind I say GO FOR IT!

Turn off the internal editor. Sit down. And write. Worry about everything else once the words are down on the paper.

I think I’m going to go do the same.