Funk

As in both “We want the…” and “I’m in a …”

We Want The
Went and saw George Clinton and the P-Funk All-Stars in the second-closest sovereign nation to Mystic tonight. The band was good – George is a phenomenal showman, as was StarChild. The horns? Not so great, but it was easy to mentally edge them out in memory of some of the great horn sections of the past.

More interesting than the show (I’d have never thought it possible to eclipse the Starship until tonight – either I’m getting old, or sobriety is changing how I see the world) was the crowd. There were the expecteds – hipsters bobbing up and down (Hipster guys hanging with hipster girls, always), white guys with dreads and goatees (no girls…), folks who were hipsters 30+ years ago when the band was playing “Flashlight” for the first time, and, being a casino, a goodly number of folks with absolutely no interest in the show at all.

My favorites were the folks who (and I’m terribly afraid I fall into this group) were the ones in that ackward age between hipster-dom and mid-40’s who appeared to be considering the show much as one would approach an installation in an art museum. From time to time they (I) would realize they (I) was actually at a show, and bob up and down for a while, or wave their (my) hands or clap, but then turn back to the patented Gen X look of sardonic detachment. What a drag it is getting old.

Good show – I highly recommend it.

I’m in a …

It’s been a week since I’ve run. An actual, honest to God, week. I thought I was going to make it out today at lunch, but the battery in the Subaru croaked last night when the temperature went all the way down to like 50. I jumped it; the car made it to work, and wouldn’t start up again when I had to run an antenna to a photographer. So, lunch was a trip to the auto store and a trip to the pizza buffet.

Work’s been busy, busy; life at home has been busy. Not franticly busy where I really, really need a couple of minutes each day so I force myself out the door, but busy enough that it makes sense at the time to skip running, ’cause I’ll make it up the next day. Only problem is the next day is busy, too…

(Paragraph redacted – see yesterday’s post)

Plus, there’s been a distinct chill in the air up here – it’s been a good summer, but it’s kind of depressing to see it on the downslope. Fall is wonderful, but I’m not looking forward to December.

Blah.

Epilogue
I’m writing this on a beautiful cool night on my deck, citronella candles burning even though it’s way too cold for bugs, and the dog sleeping under my chair. Last week’s PHC is playing over the WiFi (The Hyena Stomp, give it a listen), and I’m going to have two beautiful boys bouncing on me at 7 AM, not a minute before, not a minute after.

This is the first day of a new month. I’m still under 170 weight-wise, and have a month before the PRT. I can break 9 minutes on the mile and a half, and get under height-weight. I can work up to 30 mile weeks. And my wife loves me.

Life is good.

But sometimes, life is better given a chance to vent.

Thanks for reading.

One thought on “Funk

  1. i understand that awkward feeling at concerts – past young but hanging on to cool & hip desperately. i’m going to an old folks concert in a couple of weeks – got tickets to Jeff Beck.

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