Irrelevant? Oh, you've got it.
I just want to use this space today to reference two sites that I go to quite frequently to read things and I actually don't browse the internet that often and, because I am super smart and was World's Coolest Dude 2007, that should be some HIGH praise.
The first is Bill Simmons "The Sports Guys'" page off the ESPN website. I reference Bill Simmons a lot on this blog and for good reason. He is one of the definitive, if not the definitive voice for professional basketball at the moment. His mailbags often produce great lines connected to sports and his podcasts feature a wide variety of guests from David Stern (NBA Commissioner) to Chuck Klosterman (overrated writer) to Adam Corolla. I value and admire his passion for basketball and hang onto his every word regarding it. You should buy his book (pictured above).
The second is What's Alan Watching. Obviously, I love Mad Men - its really the only TV show I have ever been invested in and truly paid attention to. Alan Sepinwall's website breaks down Mad Men (and plenty of other shows) and provides terrific insight into the very tight thematic nature that each episode of the show has. He also gets good interviews with the cast and writers that are valuable to read as well. So, check that out too if you are ever bored.
Coming up on this space, though:
I will be posting some of my ruminations on this whole Gilbert Arenas gun situation that is going on, as well as a general NBA storyline update for those sideline fans out there.
I will be posting a breakdown of the "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" movie starring the Bee Gees and Peter Frampton. In doing so, I will tie in the all-time movie feat: how do you make a stupid movie legendary. Watch how Bill and Ted fit in.
And, ah just because I am listening to it right now and loving it, I may have to write a review of the Van Morrison album Veedon Fleece, which a friend of mine just turned me on to.
So there is plenty coming up. Keeping checking here, because I'm going to be famous and its my promise to take you with me.
Just remember, "I'd be better off dead, than to live without you." Immortal words.
Now, the next installment of From Here to the Last Mound of Dirt:
Liza
“So is it true?” Lindsey aks.
“Is what true?” She can only mean about mom. At least that is what I think she can mean.
“That you’re coming home because of…well…”
Yes and no.
“No, where did you hear that?”
“Mikayla sent me a message on Facebook.”
“She did?”
“So is it true?”
Lindsey is leaning in close to me like she always had a bad habit of doing. I can smell her Chanel. And Mikayla made up a lie to tell her, all the way from College Park, Maryland. This is exactly what I was dreading.
“Yes and no.”
“Oh.”
“Only for the funeral.”
“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, because it really would suck to be stuck back around here. I mean there is nothing to do. Where can you go from here?”
I have no answers for her. There isn’t anywhere you can go from here. The only place you can go is somewhere else and it is extremely important that you do that.
“How is your brother by the way?”
“James?”
“No. Tom. I saw him outside before with that girl, Natalie, you remember her. She was in his grade. Real pretty, real nice. She played clarinet. Karen wanted to be like her. Karen’s home too by the way.”
That’s who it was! I knew I recognized her face. She’s striking in the same way Eve is. Statuesque, glowing, a girl that should be on a magazine cover but would never let herself get photographed for it. That’s how I see Eve at least. I never knew Natalie. How does Tom? What’s gotten into him tonight? Gotten into us all? We should be going home shouldn’t we? I see James still by the bar. He looks drunk.
“Maggie.” I look over Lindsey’s shoulder to my sister who is talking to Eve. “Shouldn’t we go?”
“Are you alright?” Lindsey asks. She fondles her cell phone in one hand and pushes her hair behind her ear with the other. I don’t know what to say to her. She is my friend, I guess. I haven’t talked to her and Mikayla since I left, which wasn’t so long ago, and now that I’m back and everything is the way it is I don’t feel like talking anyway.
“My mom’s dead.”
“I know, honey. I’m so sorry.” The cradling of her cell phone from hand to hand.
Maggie is next to me now and she throws her hair over her head and ruffles it with her hands like she’s trying to add volume to it. My father is a dying movie star and my sister is just in her prime.
“What did you say, Liza?” She’s sizing Lindsey up. I know she’s been doing it since Lindsey came up to me.
“Shouldn’t we go?”
“No more darts or Led Zeppelin?” She acts surprised. Lindsey peeks at her phone for a second. And over her shoulder James comes up to Eve. Eve looks a little coy and James seems big and is trying to nuzzle her. “I’ll get my coat”
“Everyone seems to be taking this well,” Lindsey says now that Maggie is gone. “I mean you’re all out drinking together.”
This hits me and pisses me off. I know it is strange and is probably wrong that we’re out doing this together. But Maggie didn’t make a joke about it and Eve didn’t question James about it on the walk down so Lindsey doesn’t have a right to say it like that to me.
“What are you doing home, Lindsey? I didn’t ask.”
She peeks down at the phone. “Just some things I forgot.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve got to go meet someone outside.” She leans in close with her sticky sweet smelling Chanel and gives me a hug that feels like I’m in seventh grade and Billy is trying feel my nonexistant boobs by his blue locker right before we go to the buses. “I’m so sorry,” she says.
“Thank you.”
She moves past me and out the front door. Maggie comes back over.
“Where’d Chanel go?”
I laugh.
“C’mon,” Maggie says. “Those two are staying. James said he’d bring Tom back.” She stops, looks towards the window. “I think Tom will bring himself back.”
We walk together and quickly wave to Eve and James. James doesn’t see, he’s leaning into Eve’s neck. But Eve gives us a small wave and sips her fizzing drink. Maggie and I move past the bar. She pulls up the collar on her coat. And as we pass the flapping wood door of the flushing bathroom, “Good Times, Bad Times” comes on.
“Right on cue,” Maggie turns back as she opens the door into the moist night. But stepping out she bumps into a guy. He’s wearing a thin grey sweater that fits him tightly. He looks down at her.
“Is this the elusive Maggie O’Donnell?”
“Big word for you, Mike,” Maggie growls. My skin tingles. My sister is a growling movie star.
“That’s a drink I’ll buy.” The guy smiles and touches Maggie’s shoulder. She looks disgusted.
We’re not safe home yet. Dad’ll have to wait.
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