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No Grits, No Gravy, No Guinness — No Thanks

August 24, 2013

,This blog was flattered in front of an Irishman tonight, so I thought, well, I’d better update it now; we can’t let blogs flattered in front of Irishmen remain moribund.

Just a few hours ago I was thinking that I might not go out tonight, that I was not feeling up to it. But I managed to force myself — it wasn’t so hard —  to drink several glasses of whiskey and stumble out the door, over the bridge, down the mall, to the dance party. And I had an absolutely great time. As good as it is possible to have at a fairly advanced age, without any sexual contact or illegal drugs, in a state that outlaws both cockfighting and radar detectors. Maybe there is a lesson in that. Maybe I need to keep tonight in mind when I think of just staying home in the future. On the other hand, it is likely that I owe my very life to the fact that I stayed safely in my house some unknown, potentially ill-fated night when the there was a bullet, or falling stone or swerving car, out there with my name on it. Being bored and lonely is not such a bad thing when the alternative when is having your brains splattered over a sidewalk. Sometimes carpe diem ends up as carpe mortem. Pascal wrote that all of humanity’s problems came from our inability to sit quietly in a room alone. Maybe he was onto something. Though I will say that I am quite good at sitting quietly in a room alone, I have spent a hell of a lot of time sitting quietly in a room alone, and yet I still find myself beset by problems, such a how to pay the rent for the room that I am sitting quietly and alone in. If anyone would like to pay me to sit quietly in a room alone, please get in touch.

I would also like to point out that having a dance party without making available pitchers — or possibly spigoted coolers — of water and a plentiful supply of plastic cups is very likely in violation of one of the lesser-known Geneva Conventions, and at the very least will cause people to despise your establishment and make vulgar plays on words with its name, such as “Crapture.”

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