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Weekend shenanigans: The slump


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I'm going to try and make these shorter.  The shenanigans have gotten too long for their own good, so I'm going to pick the low hanging fruit.  Not as short as a Josh Hamiltoe at bat, but I'll make it fast...

 

Friday was a little nutty.  I drove out to Palm Springs for a friend's wedding.  It was an outdoor wedding which makes perfect sense because it was only 104 degrees, as opposed to 109.  So my seersucker suite only stunk half as bad at the end of the night.  Richard Blade DJ'd the reception and he was very nice.  We'd met a couple times before and let me tell you something:  The Blade has some mad breath. 

 

The happy couple also hired a Bono look-alike to greet guests.  It was pretty great in a David Lynch kind of way.  The reception was held in an older hotel with a magnificent lounge tucked away from the bar.  It had a Miami Vice meets Scarface vibe, so I, of course, had to have a photo.  My friend who took the pic had been pounding Coronas all day poolside, so it came out a little blurred, but maybe it just makes it look that much more 1985:

ViceDrewwedding_zps1d98f998.jpg

 

Now, I know what you're thinking:  Did DR meet any ladies at the wedding reception?  Yes and no.  There was a lot of coke going on and those who weren't coke'd up were slovenly drunk.  Neither was my style, though I'm sort of kicking myself for not chatting up one nice looking lady who I was making 'eye talk' with, to use an English term from the '80s (notice a theme here?). 

 

I didn't want to deal with the heat and traffic on Saturday so I drove home around midnight.  I really enjoy late night driving.  It brings me peace and I throw on some fitting tunes.  I feel like Crockett in seasons 1-3.  I got home in 1 1/2 hours.  I passed a nature preserve named after my uncle.  That was a nice surprise.

 

Once home, I stayed up until about 3am.  Maybe I should've stayed at the reception longer since I would've fit in at that hour.

 

Saturday was a mixed bag.  My Iranian friend borrowed my mum's house to throw his two-year olds' birthday party.  It was Iranian themed in that it had valet parking and rented beach toys and everyone but myself was Iranian.  One of the guests was the surgeon who gave Angelina Jolie her mascectomy, performed at Cedars Sinai under great secrecy.  She looked like she was 25 years old.  I felt very small.  

 

People were pretty dressed up, but my favorite was some dude who appearantly used to own a couple clubs in Ibiza.  I was told later that there's a documentary about him.  I can't remember his name...something like Max Panasalapous or something.  I will only remember him for his Gucci man purse and all white casual gear as seen below, where he's waiting for a hamburger (insert your favorite Sascha Cohen/Bruno line when viewing):

photo7_zps55d222ba.jpg

 

I could only stay at the party for about an hour since I don't speak farsi, and I fully expected the po-po to show up and I didn't want to be around for that.  I don't need that.  The valets had lined cars up against the houses on Seashore Drive and I thought the neighbors were going to go bananas.  But I was told later that night that there were no problems, and one of them even came over to help out with parking suggestions in exchange for free beer. 

 

About an hour later, I made my way to the in-laws for my father-in-law's birthday party.  That's one of the trickiest things about being a new/young-ish widow...what do you call your in-laws?  "Former in-laws?"  "The in-laws?"  "My deceased wife's parents?"  It's little things like that which make you pop the ol' xanax.

 

The party was fair for me...it was my father-in-law's golf and raquetball (speaking of the '80s) partners.  I mainly went for the sake of my mother-in-law who misses having me around.  It's a little hard going to their house since I was only ever there with my wife for holidays and birthdays or whatever.  Now I'm there on the solo tip.

 

I made the excuse that I left my cat in the backyard so I could get home and be miserable by myself.  Although, I did stay for a solid 3 hours.  And my cat was indeed in the backyard.

 

About an hour later, the Iranians called me.  My friend and his brother-in-law wanted to get out of the house.  They were tired of their wives and kids, so we met up.  In a world of things that don't go together, we put together a doozee (however you spell it).  We ended up at the Alta Coffee House where two 60 somethings were playing acoustic steal string guitars.  They closed their set with "Hey Joe."  It sounded pretty good for a song I never need to hear again.

 

Sunday was spent by myself, indoors, watching the Angels lose.  I forced myself out of the house and went down to get one of them chocolate dipped old fashioned donuts I love so much.  Unforunately, there was a couple of women sitting inside the donut shop and I wanted some quiet, so I ate standing next to my car, coffee cup on the roof.  I either looked like a '70s TV detective (think "Police Story," "Columbo," "Kojak") or a homeless person loitering in the parking lot. 

 

There was an empty parking space next to me so I had room to chill and watch the people go by.  Six empty spaces in the row in front of me which matters because...

 

Of course, some dude pulls up and backs his car into the spot right next to me.  It was a shiny new Dodge whatever fake wannabe muscle car and homeboy was very proud of it.  I was feeling chippy and sorry for myself so I mouthed off when he exited the car:  "You really wanted that parking space, huh?" 

 

"You got a problem," he said.  His girlfriend (7/10) got out of the car; I think she was embarassed about his parking proclivity.

 

"No problem. PAUSE.  I just think it's weird you parked here when there's all those empty spaces over there where I'm not standing."

 

"Whatever," he said.  And he walked away with 7/10 but not before saying, "Have a better day."

 

I thought about that for a moment.  If I only I could.  How rad would it have been to have the Bono look alike pop out of my car and start singing "It's a beautiful day..." 

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`

 

Sunday was spent by myself, indoors, watching the Angels lose.  I forced myself out of the house and went down to get one of them chocolate dipped old fashioned donuts I love so much.  Unforunately, there was a couple of women sitting inside the donut shop and I wanted some quiet, so I ate standing next to my car, coffee cup on the roof.  I either looked like a '70s TV detective (think "Police Story," "Columbo," "Kojak") or a homeless person loitering in the parking lot.

 

you were doug from ghost world!

and i respect that.

 

tumblr_mhan3wuBnO1qev6e0o1_500.gif

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lol@Richard Blade.

does he still do Florentine Gardens and are Kenneth Cole shoes and Drakkar still mandatory?

mad props on the suit and white ankle socks, DR.

 

He was actually wearing a very bitchin' KROQ jacket from 1983 and Van's slip-ons.  He was wearing an English Beat t-shirt.  So, in all actuality, maybe he still does have a night at Florentine Gardens. 

RichardBlade_zps44d7554c.jpg

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The dude is a class act.  He was extremely cordial and enthusiastic.  I know that's what he's paid to do at these things, but I think the smile on my face would be gone after the fourth drunken 40-something chick got me in a beer hug.  Wait a hot minute...that kind of sounds like a good time.

 

Seriously, Blade is great.  We should all have his energy and optimism.

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I met DR years ago, and we kept up a pretty ordinary email convo over the years.  Mostly about the Angels and season tickets.  I just thought he was some ol regular, slightly boring guy - like me.

 

Little did I know.  I am the boring guy...DR is anything but..  He had me when he met the guy through Craigslist for a catch on the beach...several times.

 

 

Here's to you, DR.

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The dude is a class act.  He was extremely cordial and enthusiastic.  I know that's what he's paid to do at these things, but I think the smile on my face would be gone after the fourth drunken 40-something chick got me in a beer hug.  Wait a hot minute...that kind of sounds like a good time.

 

Seriously, Blade is great.  We should all have his energy and optimism.

I too have experienced Blade at a wedding, although he F'd something something up and the music went static.  Heard a "c'mon Blade!" from the audience. 

 

Outdoor weddings in the desert are awesome.  Seersucker and I have never met, so I usually squeeze into a navy suit.  Dark suit plus 100 degrees equals ALB gassing whatever is cold, so I usually land firmly in the "slovenly drunk" pile.

 

Love reading these.  They remind me of when I had to go over my college roommate's writing scripts.

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I met DR years ago, and we kept up a pretty ordinary email convo over the years.  Mostly about the Angels and season tickets.  I just thought he was some ol regular, slightly boring guy - like me.

 

Little did I know.  I am the boring guy...DR is anything but..  He had me when he met the guy through Craigslist for a catch on the beach...several times.

 

 

Here's to you, DR.

I met him at Spring Training this year and only got to talk to him for a minute because we were on our way out to (the former) Hail Mary's to catch the GSP fight... Stupid (former) Hail Mary's was closed. Damn it all!

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