Well today was a day. It was right up there, man — about as dumb as a day can get without generating anything worth repeating publicly. Actually, come to think of it, pretty much everything dumb that happened today is highly confidential. Now that I really focus on it, a participant in every single conversation I had today said “this is highly confidential.” For the last few, I was that person.
Let me tell you something: it ain’t fun.
Now I am sitting here at my desk with the top button of my jeans unbuttoned, practicing the lost art of the perfect smoke ring while writing this in one window and downloading Led Zeppelin tunes in another.
Things are looking up. And really, they could be a lot worse. A really good old friend of mine is in jail right now, and he just sent me a pretty bleak letter. I had to have a confidential conversation about its contents.
I could have written that letter.
But do you ever have those days where you’re just like “my GOD, what has happened to the spirit of ROCK?” Where you just look back at the stuff that you liked from your twenties and forget all the scraping for respect from the world in between the good moments and say to yourself, ‘hey man, I used to ROCK. I used to feel the Spirit of Rock and now it has shambled away forever.”
On the worst days you are standing behind a tall fence in the back of your own mind and listening to the Spirit of Rock play beach volleyball on the other side.
I might be having one of those days. They’re listening to Led Zeppelin on the other side of the fence, and apparently someone’s just shown up with a fresh pitcher of margaritas but I will never be invited to taste those drinks again.
So here’s my antidote to feeling like that – I just keep this picture on my iPhone and look at it whenever I need it:
I saw this while I was out walking around about a month ago, parked right on Marcy Ave. Just look at it. It looks like things in there smell bad but feel great, like the thing is crouching on its back wheels to leap on the highway to hell. I took it on my iPhone and then fiddled with it in a few apps and on Photoshop to make it look like an old movie. This photo may not be exactly what it looks like to look at that van, but it’s a pretty good representation of what it feels like.
The Spirit of Rock is alive and well and parked on Marcy Avenue. He may not be a roommate, but I’m still in his neighborhood. And overall, I think I like that dude a lot better now that we’re not living together anymore.