The Ocean Breathes, Um, Salty

The strangest thing I’ve seen in a long time occurred at the Modest Mouse show at DAR’s Consitution Hall Thursday: Several songs in, Issac and company launched into “Ocean Breathes Salty,” and two of the four or five frat boys who were in front of us high-fived.

Something mad wrong with that. Wronger was how a few of these boys hung on each other through the show. I’m guessing there’s been at least one drunken unintended blowjob among them. You know. “Oh, man. I was so drunk…” Unless, of course, I misjudged, and these were actually some very, very out gay boys, likely to be heading for Chaos right after the show. Just wasn’t the vibe we got. Boys. Admit it. Come on out. Really.

Fry-day morning got out of bed and had a nice breakfast with my woman. We then ran home and she watched me pack. Yes, I’m a procrastinator. At least, I would be, but I reckon it can wait until tomorrow. Then I ran her home and zipped up to Seven Springs for the Mitchell Family Reunion. Seven Springs is lovely, people. Just lovely. And, it was both nice AND weird to see all these cousins. ‘Specially Ms. Carrie, who was one of my few adopted summer siblings. She is as sweet and nice and incredibly unjaded as she ever was. In fact, I think she was more jaded when we were teens. Does that mean that she went and grew up, while I didn’t bother? Probably.

I ate a lot and drank a lot of good wine. It was good. I’m trying to whisper family reunion success secrets based on my experience with reunions on the other side of the family. But, there’s a basic difference: That family reunion involves Pryors. However, I have got one basic truth forward regarding family reunions. Have them annually only if you want them to fail. Once every two years, baby. That’s the trick. Once a year is too much, and besides, it doesn’t give people enough time to build up their stories. Well, here’s to hoping this is the start of a new, longstanding tradition.

Sigh. I have to go to work tomorrow.

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