Obviously I’m avoiding the task at hand.

Some recent Plinky prompts:

What would you like to do on your next birthday? List the things that would help make getting older a little more pleasant.
I am still trying to pull together a girls’ getaway to New Orleans, but doesn’t it suck not being independently wealthy? So I guess the things would be dollars. Beyond that, I don’t want for much when it comes to knowing how to celebrate.
What three songs remind you of a specific time in your life? Describe that time and these songs’ ties to it.
Hmmm. Steely Dan’s Reelin’ in the Years reminds me very specifically of early childhood Sunday mornings. There was a classic rock oldies radio show on WTUE by the same name that used the song as it’s theme. Every Sunday, heard it driving either to or from Mass. My dad would tap his fingers on the wheel keeping the beat and I would pester him to explain or enunciate the lyrics of many songs I couldn’t understand. Breakfast with the Beatles was never quite as good.
Weezer’s Say It Ain’t So reminds me of sophomore year of high school. Sleepless nights and blurry days. Puppy love for a man who acted like a boy. So right, so wrong. So beyond me yet so stunted. Simply and innocent and spontaneous yet completely contrived and covert. An introduction, lessons worth learning and a battle worth losing. It usually is a blessing to not get exactly what you think you want.
This one’s shameful, and I can’t even just give a song, it takes two whole albums. The summer of ’99 my family took a trip to Niagara Falls, Canada. I had recently finally gotten my first, really-my-own in-my-own-name car to park at my own squalid apartment, an obnoxious little used Mitsubishi Eclipse. Five-speed, red, but of course. I was trying way too hard, but I will say this for it – having now power steering, it was good exercise for the arms. Welcome to the gun show. Anyhow, so I was not about to be stuck in a car for eleventeen hours or whatever it takes to get there with my parents and siblings, not being able to smoke and be an obnoxious kid with my awful music. Yes, that’s two obnoxiouses in the same paragraph. Because there is no better word for me at this age, I promise. Acting as if I’m doing my family some type of favor by going on a family vacation even though I didn’t live at home with them anymore. The entire way there and back I listed to Dr. Dre’s 2001 and Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP over and over and over and over again. I mean, I kill my favorite songs like that still, but that is just…yes, obnoxious. So any given song on either of those albums reminds me of being young and totally exhilarated by my own freedom and drinking legally at the hotel bar and cruising past the wedding chapels in my little red sports car and buying cigarettes to sneak. Yes, a pack of um…oh, crap. The uh…Players…Lights..? please? Hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. Perhaps you had to be there.
List the worst pickup lines you’ve heard (or can think of). Some people just aren’t as suave as they think they are.
I’ve only got one; it happens to be also from sophomore year of high school, which back in our day, was the first year of high school, as freshman were still housed back at what we called the “junior high schools,” of which there were two in our school district, so when you get to the high school, you’re lucky to know about half or so of the kids in your grade. It was the first day of school, mid-day, I think. Most kids in my classes at least a little nervous I think, being the first day of high school and all. I remember feeling pretty shy. It was Biology class, I walk into the classroom and take a seat in the middle of the room – my strategy is to just blend in as much as possible. The bell hasn’t rang yet, but I’m surely glancing around the room, checking out who is in my class, hoping I can snag someone familiar and friendly to sit next to me, as the desks are set up in twos – lab partners, obviously. This tallish, skinnyish, dirtyish blondish kid walks over, tells me his name, and proceeds to inform me that we should hang out sometime, you know, because he’s hung like a horse. I dissolve into giggles. Poor kid is looking at me like, oh shit, what now? I can’t help it. He obviously doesn’t even know what he’s saying to me, so I can’t really be offended. Dude needs a lifeline. I ask him if he has any idea what that means, he admits not, I let him in on the joke, he blushes, insta-buddy. I honestly don’t remember if he ended up sitting next to me for the year or if he retreated quickly to another seat, but we did stay friends of a sort. At that point I certainly didn’t have my own car and was lucky to catch ride with driving friends until I finally got my license and schemed successfully on occasion to borrow my parents’ car. But he had his own and would cart my girl friend and I home from school on many afternoons. We’d even hang out alone every once in a while, me being careful to clarify that these were not dates. I could just never take him seriously after that kind of opener, as weirdly endearing as it turned out to be. Ah, yes. Adolescence can certainly be hell. I probably wouldn’t want to redo it if I could, but it’s nice to look back and laugh as well.
And you?

15 thoughts on “Obviously I’m avoiding the task at hand.

  1. suntzusays says:

    1) Remembering that my birthday is upcoming would be sufficient. I for one do lack a sense of grandeur and celebration. 3) I don't recall a "bad" pickup line in the sense that anything can ever be a good one. It's probably worse for women of course having to deal with the male lame and silly interjections (all that talking, who wants to do that?). Women (I've found) are better at using body language to say things than men. Which in my opinion is probably a lot more effective (and direct) anyway. Not that women on average necessarily masters of approaching men in ways that are not annoying either. It does at least seem like they take the better approach in theory. Your story reminded of Brick Tamland: "I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party." I'm not entirely sure how someone would get the impression that's an expression that means "I'm fun." Or how nobody else explained it to him by then. Funny though.

  2. Now you have to tell me when your birthday is. Way to not divulge it on Facebook.True, there are very few if any that aren't goofy. It was pretty hilarious. To his credit, it's almost brave in the way of saying out loud words you've only read and never heard pronounced. I love that.

  3. suntzusays says:

    I get older every day. Why would I need to remember one of them in particular?

  4. suntzusays says:

    I can have cake at other people's celebrations.

  5. You could have more cake if you had it for your own celebration, too.

  6. suntzusays says:

    Yes but there are trade-offs for "get more cake". Like "more exercise". Or even the dreaded "more people who pretend to care so they can get some free cake without being the center of attention". I think I'm okay with my cake intake pattern.

  7. Oh please. You omit half a box of pasta, and voila. Really? People would come JUST for cake? Now that'd be some good cake.

  8. suntzusays says:

    "Admit it when you're hearing the song Happy Birthday all you can think of is 'Hey I'm getting some free cake!'. During the song you're just wondering what kind it is""Hope it's chocolate for me!"

  9. suntzusays says:

    Mayhaps. Methinks. "Cake is a powerful food. It can actually bring people together. Bill's birthday today" "Yea I hate that guy" "There's cake in the conference room""Well I should say hello…."

  10. Bazarov says:

    1.) Hell if I know. What I'd like to do has quite the scope. It ranges from what I'd like to do but know will never happen (the story of a trifecta of triplets for three decades worth of existence would be on this end of the spectrum) to things that would be nice, and most likely could be arranged, but that could also be arranged most any day I'd like, such as a quiet evening with perhaps a family member or two or a friend or two…maybe a drink. Somewhere in the upper-middle would be doing the latter surrounded by people not speaking English.2.) I've never used a pick up line. The closest would be, "You're purdy," and I wasn't exactly committed to that one either. Women that grab my attention in that manner make quite the fool out of me. I have never had a line used on me either, unless I've repressed that memory, which is possible because the only women who make it abundantly clear that they're interested in me are the kind I seek to avoid, usually. I'm oblivious to the whole 'body language' thing women tend to send out. I think women make the psychologist's fallacy a lot with that, assuming men pick up on that shit as much as women. Only other women can tell when a woman is doing that. Granted, some men might be able to pick up on it, but they're in a minority I'd say and probably douchebags.Of course there's the whole, childish/adolescent "I hate you" thing, whereby you mean, "I like you". Of that I've been a recipient and transmitter.3.) Hmm. King Diamond makes me think of the trip to Sweden in '91. The Crow soundtrack makes me think of late jr. high: nights sneaking out, phone calls that lasted entirely too long, and heartbreak. A lot of good tunes were on that cd. Sepultura's Chaos AD: simply badass. Same with Pantera's Far Beyond Driven. 1994, first concert, Sepultura opening up for Pantera, best friends at my side. What else? Pretty much all music from that era evokes memories: some good, some bad, and many embarrassing. Any song written at the time has the same power.

  11. suntzusays says:

    "But they're in a minority I'd say and probably douchebags". Correct. My ability to read body language isn't that great. But I'm definitely an ass too for studying and/or appreciating it over words. It's more like a cultural thing. In Asia, a lot of language is measured and people will hear implied statements out of apparently thin air. Strong insults and compliments alike are veiled behind otherwise inocuous looking language. Often with the translation being that if someone didn't understand what you said it was your fault, the speaker, that the appropriate signals and context wasn't generated. I would imagine that women in our culture generate body language signals out of some similar measured language (because we don't permit open signals of simple language and words to be used) and expect men to pick up on it. By and large they don't unless it's really obvious simply because we're not as practiced at communication in an arena of signals rather than spoken words.

  12. Yeah. Dudes don't take hints very well. At least you two know this; that probably actually puts you ahead. Along with not using pickup lines.

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