I'll warn you ahead of time, I'm feeling a bit wordy today. Maybe too many days of bullet-point writing has caused a mental back-up, but I can feel the barn doors rattling loose and the herd is threatening to escape. This often happens to me at moments of flux, and I think I'm in the midst of that right now. Not to get all motivational poster on you or anything, but I really feel like I'm at one of those moments that will define the direction my life will take. These moments are always scary and exciting and challenging and thrilling and so on and so on.
And no, this isn't prompted by some news or a "big announcement" or anything. It's just one of those times that I've come to a number of realizations about myself and my life and a breakthrough of sorts has been achieved.
I have always loved root beer floats. When I was younger my little heart would go a-pitter-pat at the sight of an A&W stand. So it's no mystery why I love Arby’s Black Cow shakes. They taste just like a melted root beer float. In fact I will often go miles out of my way to find an Arby's that still carries this delicious flavor since jamocha seems to have replaced it – and I have no idea why coffee would replace root beer as a flavor choice, but maybe that's just me – so I was tickled pink when I discovered the Arby's right near where I work has suddenly decided to add the flavor to its menu. Here’s the scene. I eagerly walk up to the counter and place my order.
Me: I'd like a black cow please.
Arby's dude: What?
Me: A black cow, please.
Arby's dude: (narrowing his eyes and glaring at me) I think you mean jamocha.
Me: (feeling a little nervous, having obviously triggered this guy's ire) No. Black cow. Root beer flavored?
Arby's dude: (glaring, turns to manager) Can you believe this guy?
Me: I’m sorry.
Arby’s manager: He means the new shake flavor.
Arby's dude: (eyes popping open) Oh!
At this point I should maybe note that the guy behind the counter was black. Halfway through the back and forth, I realized he thought I was trying to make some sort of racial statement or something and it severely freaked me out. I immediately felt guilty for making the guy think I was taunting him somehow, and then got confused because I was feeling guilty for something I hadn’t even done.
And then I felt sad that the whole exchange, and both of our responses, even has reason to exist in the first place.
SIDE NOTE: I looked all over Arby's site for a link to their Black Cow shakes, but I don't see it anywhere. Doesn't that seem a little weird?
Gravity defying body parts.
Here's a scene that replays more nights a week than I'd like to admit. I'm sitting on the couch watching The Daily Show, having just (literally) tucked Photogal in bed and kissed her goodnight. Jon Stewart gives way to Stephen Colbert, and sometime before Colbert signs off I drift off to sleep. My dream is infiltrated by steel drums and I'm suddenly on a beach. I'm having a great time. I’m surrounded by girls. Girls gone wild. I am in bliss.
My eyes pop open and to my horror I realize that late night rotation of Girls Gone Wild infomercials is in full effect and my brain has been picking up on them. I am horrified. Mortified. Stupefied that some deep part of my psyche has betrayed me through my dreams and exposed the fact that, on some deep level, I must actually enjoy the notion of Girls Gone Wild. Some terrible, primal component of my mind has been pried open and the door has been left swinging, leaving my embarrassed sensitive inner male threatening to curl up into the fetal position.
Tonight is the Chicagoist Happy Hour, where we show appreciation for our readers by opening a sizeable tab at a bar from which our following can quench their thirst. Tonight we're having it at Quencher's starting at 6pm, but bring your drinking pants, because we plan on sticking around for, and participating in, Live Band Karaoke later that night. Rumor has it this will also coincide with Eric's birthday party, so expect cultures to clash as nerds and intellectuals and tech-heads and rockers sway to and fro in perfect unison while singing Cheap Trick's "Surrender."
It's going to be awesome.
Finally, I'm all out of hot air.
Wow, you're still here? You deserve some goodies then. Here's two tracks to either rile you up or cool you down. First up is Secret Mommy's "Deciduism" rides that electronic pop bandwagon The Postal Service hijacked, but they throw in enough Aphex Twin weirdness to keep things interesting. This iss a track perfet for chilling out and sipping a nice cold beverage.
MP3: Secret Mommy "Deciduism"
M4A: Secret Mommy "Deciduism"
Tiga does a lot of remixing work, but he decided it was time to release a whole album of his own (save a cover, or three) tunes. Personally, I think that was a mistake since most folks that are great at reworking other people's songs are often not so good at constructing their own. And for the most part Tiga proves this little piece of conventional wisdom correct. The one exception is "Far From Home" as it slithers and sways and grooves with a certain understatement that charge sup the air around with supersexiness. Dig it.
MP3: Tiga "(Far From) Home"
M4A: Tiga "(Far From) Home"