Friday, January 20, 2012


Things I've noticed: 


Indeed, the snow started falling some time Wednesday morning and it fell steadily for hours without pause until there was several inches of the stuff covering this fine little town called Boise, which made my morning commute slow and treacherous, a leisurely mountain bike ride through snow really, something I don't often get to enjoy (but honestly I didn't so much enjoy my commute as I did chuckle at my situation, amused, not unlike the man behind the counter at Napa Auto Parts who sold me zipties so I could transform my mountain bike into a snowmobile), yes a leisurely white-knuckled commute, one that got me to work an hour late, but with safety and warmth and even comfort, the latter two of which are precisely the opposite of how I'd describe my return voyage, which wasn't through deep snow so much as it was through six-inches of slush and through pouring rain, the temperature obviously having risen just enough to change the mode of precipitation but not the amount, yes my return voyage oh-so miserable, like really fucking so, my pants soaked beyond belief almost immediately after leaving the shop, my face liberally spattered with a mixture of slush, road salt, and car grime which tasted like cold salty car grime (I know because I got a lot of it in my mouth despite my best efforts to spit it out), a miserable white-knuckled commute, the worst, the only thing keeping my mood from completely careening into a canyon of negativity the realization that the fucking rain would melt the fucking snow and the roads would clear and I would soon be able to ride my bike outside again. 
My bike as a snowmobile.
My wet pants from my commute home. 


Have you ever been sitting around wondering what to do with yourself on a Wednesday night, and had a friend txt you with an offer to go to a concert? Well I have. Just this week. And let me tell you -- it was swell. It was a day of cosmic collisions in Boise, because not only were we hit with our first major storm of the year, but these three excellent and unique bands were all passing through town, and all got booked at the Egyptian. Thanks to my friend Judi, I got to see:

Diego's Umbrella: a super-sexy-sixsome slinging gypsy-pirate-sounding splendor. 

The Pimps of Joytime (possibly the best band name ever): the funkiest funksters ever, laying down some ridiculously fun "janxter funk."

March Fourth Marching Band: these guys were totally unreal! Dressed like a marching band from hell (and sounding like one too), the March Fourth Marching Band mixes a little burlesque, with a little big-top, and a whole lot of marching band. Picture dancers on stilts (doing some of the most impressive and dangerous stilt acrobatics I've ever seen), baton twirlers (who clearly should have been spinning fire), and about twenty five rowdy musicians on stage. Trust me, this band must be experienced to be enjoyed -- the energy they bring is like whoa!


I'm not sure you can appreciate what's going on here, but trust me: madness. 


I guess this is kind of a milestone for me, because I don't recall ever being "summoned" for anything in my life, but goddamit, really? And smack dab in the middle of training camp no less! Wish me luck in trying to postpone it. 


Vivian said...

Postponing jury duty was a breeze for the first time: as excited as I was to exercise judgement upon my fellow countrymen, I had simply forgotten about it until the day before my summons and called them in a huff. I told them the honest truth as to why I could not be expected to show (that I had forgotten and really didn't want to go - figured that lying before I had even been selected for a jury pool wouldn't work out well for me karma-wise), they told me it was a shitty excuse and that they'd postpone me anyways, citing a work conflict. So that was a win, thanks nice jury lady!

Sam Johnson said...

Vivian, I too am excited by the prospect of judging other Americans, but I sure hope they don't hassle me about moving the dates.