When I was in London I went to see a local singer. He asked for requests so I said, TIFFANY!
He busted out some I Think We’re Alone Now.
Yes, I am aware that she merely covered the song. That is not the point, asshole.
A couple of songs later he covered a Crowded House song I love.
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| I love anyone who can sing while stringing a guitar. And wears Chucks! |
Anyway, I woke up thinking about London this morning and how fleeting my time there was. It flew by so fast. Then I thought about November and going back to LA to commemorate the ten year anniversary of my dad’s death and how fucking fast the last ten years have flown.
Almost a quarter of my life has been lived without the most important piece of me.
That’s a weird thing to wake up thinking.
Samantha likes to sleep with the room really cold. I looked over and she had the comforter pulled tight all the way up to her nose so all I could see was the bridge, her closed eyes and her forehead. I thought about the dogs asleep in their kennels. My friend Kris and the Monterey Peninsula. I thought about Terry. I thought about shitty open mics and finally getting paid to make people laugh. I thought about a boat full of yahoos, a boy named Jake, a girl named Shelby (dad would have totally flirted with her), and all of the other miscreants he would have loved meeting. I thought about the Charlies. I thought about music and concerts and beaches. I thought about that girl under the comforter. I even thought about finally getting sober.
My dad would have loved every fucking bit of it. Especially that last part.
Then I thought about the irony of all that thinking: none of it would have happened had dad not died.
That’s a weird thing to lay there realizing.
Then I heard another Neil Finn song and it set me straight.
Titty sprinkles.
