Plum Thumb and All the Good Rum

Do you remember the era of my childhood? It might not have been your era, but that shouldn't stop you from pretending. Just like a lack of company shouldn't stop you from going to the movies. If you do, you'll just end up going online and researching the movie. (Oh these tangents control such vitriol sometimes). Well anyway, my childhood was quite impeccable even though I was a fatty. I remember every thing as so fast, so lush, so green. Looking back, the editor of my youth has opted for extra saturation. 

I remember dropping a toy in my swing set and losing it forever. I remember chasing my sister with a knife. I remember how basketball became cool to learn about once I got my first pack of basketball cards. I remember looking at the back of these cards, disappointed to learn that Patrick Ewing wasn't 8 feet tall. Judging by his flat top alone, I assumed the man to be at least 8 feet tall. I also remember the television show Muppets Tonight. This was a big deal then. The Muppets mattered to my Dad and Dennis Quaid was an amazing host. Who can forget the sketches poking fun  at his infamous Quaid image. Oh boy hardy! 

TV really resonated with me as a child, being a life blood, instilling an attitude of wiseacreage. Because it did so much for me I had no choice but to bestow it the sanctity and love usually reserved for Uncles (especially Uncles who live in the woods. If you're not in jail... HI UNCLE FRANK!"). Every word uttered by the television was  unadulterated truth. This was how I saw my father as well. He told me that you needed to turn on turn signals when merging because they needed to be tested every 5 minutes (or else they'd break). When the Muppets told me that every show would be brand new I believed them. They didn't just say it. They sang it in the theme song. How can one lie in song? 

Every Sunday at 7:30 I gathered with my friend Phil to watch the Muppets, the host, and their requisite arsenal of antics. This was hallowed. Our show was sacred. Until one day. The Muppets aired a rerun, breaking their vow. 

Phil and I turned to each other. Part shocked and wholly appalled. We stopped and stared with drool ebbing down our young chins. Then the following conversation took place. 

Me: What do you think happened? Why aren't the Muppets new?

Phil: They probably made a joke about Israel and weren't allowed on the air. 

Me: Yeah. The Muppets would hate Israel.

I wish I still thought like a child. This wish isn't because I wish I were more innocent. I just wish I were more Israel conscious. 

take good care of it

"it never seemed like you much cared for the greats, at any rate."

sometimes you talk to people you haven't talked to in awhile, and within a few minutes they remind you of exactly why you haven't talked to them in awhile.

but back to the quote, yeah i never really cared for the greats. so what. i just didnt really like them. actually, to be more accurate, i found them to be boring, mind numbingly at times. this wasn't to say that all classics are dry and a chore to read, i do actually like some of them a lot (i.e. the works of joyce and twain), but i've always read what i like. i dont know if i really came to realize this until recently, but thats always been the deciding factor on whether or not i read a book. its status as a classic, if others hated it, or if it was a genre work, none of that shit mattered to me. the only thing that did was that i would feel satisfied at how i spent my time when i finished it.

because of this, im not exactly the most well read english major (with a focus on creative writing, but still) but im ok with that. dont get me wrong ive read a lot, but not really any of the stuff i shouldve read (books on bobby fischer, yes. books by dickens, not so much). it sometimes used to bother me in my survey classes, but ive come to grips with it. plus i still have a lot of time to catch up on those "greats" should i ever choose to. who knows maybe i will. theres plenty of stuff written pre 1800 that im interested in. and i do see tristam shandy on my bookshelf right now.

regardless of whether i do try and of those classics the point of this post is mainly to say that, we should all consume what we want, not shit that we find lame. arts supposed to better our lives and provide enlightenment, but if we feel its a big waste of time, it aint doin that. so fuck it read, watch, listen, and eat what you want. dont settle for anything less.

***

big ups to charlie on some amazing shit as of late. were still rough around the edges here at bring back the hindnburg, but i think were starting to show what were capable of.

youll also notice a lack of quality from minxie. the reason for this is that hes a no good piece of shit asshole. probably too busy reading mary shelley or masturbating to championship montages of those decrepit boston redsox. most lopsided world series ever? yeah, but also the most boring ever. guess it figures the world series trophy would end up in a fucking liberal fronting racist city after all that. as curtis pointed out one good thing ever happened in boston, a molasses factory once exploded. thats all. thats probably a gross exageration but i am just displacing my hatred for minxie on boston, because im guessin he probably loves him. hes all about the bandwagon n shit like that.

speaking of curtis, anyone heard from him lately?