I don’t usually write poetry. I’m a prose guy at heart. But this one has been bouncing around my head for a while. In light of the bomb threats to Jewish daycare centers and the desecration of graveyards, it had to come out.
The first tattoo I ever saw,
Was my aunt’s, a pretty songbird.
On her leg.
But first the one I remember
Was late september
And I was four.
On Rosh Hashanna,
On my friend’s father’s lap
Trying not to nap,
I looked to the side.
An old man, or old to me
White beard, yarmulke on head.
And he read
From the prayer book
His white shirt sleeve
Slipped.
And I crept
Closer to see
Green numbers
Six, maybe five
And I tried to ignore
To look away
I didn’t understand
But I knew
I knew I knew I knew
That it was something
Terrible
And I should never speak of it
A new article from my New York History series. It discusses the origins of our modern version of Santa Claus, and how it popularized the rarely celebrated Christ (yes, there was a time when no one celebrated it). I think you’ll be surprised by what you learn.
I don’t have Nintendo, and I have never wanted it more than right now. I just saw a commercial for Hyrule Warriors, and I want to cry. They took one of my favorite games, Dynasty Warriors, and crossed it with The Legend of Zelda. THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO MANKIND!!
Maybe I’m exaggerating (No!) but I really love this idea. The Zelda-verse is so iconic, who wouldn’t want to jump in there and hack ‘n’ slack until their arm falls off?
I love hack ‘n’ slash style games. Right now my addiction is Happy Wars, a team PvP hack ‘n’ slash.
Happy Wars is my crack
Those games remind me of my childhood playing in the arcades. Remember the cacophony of two dozen games going on around you? The jingle of quarters? The sound of older kids trying out new curses? Gauntlet, Space Invaders, Asteroids, Donkey Kong…I could’ve plunked quarters in those games forever.
It occurred to me that a lot of people don’t remember arcades. Real arcades, not Dave and Buster’s or Chuck E Cheese. I bet some of them have never seen a pinball machine. I’m so damn old.
Dynasty Warriors (based on one of the best rpgs, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which is based on the epic novel of the same name) reminds me of the old arcade games. That’s the kind of game that would be at home in some shadowy arcade. Zelda, of course, was one of the great games of my youth. Link was an icon to me and my generation (a friend of mine has the Triforce tattooed over his heart).
I wish I was a child again with a Wii U, clutching the nunchuck like a sword and slashing my way through Ganondorf’s minions. The hardest part of getting old is seeing all the cool toys you missed out on.
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I am currently waiting for guests to get here for my big giant hugemoungous NYE party, that really isnt that hugemoungous. I am expecting 6 people, including myself, but that is about the maximum capacity of my tiny studio apartment.
I love to entertain, and I spent far more money getting ready for this than I should’ve. I’m a writer, which means that I am painfully poor (more writer’s angst in a later post). I wanted one of those giant subs, so I ordered one.
Myyyyy hero *swoon*
It came at 1pm.
That means that I had to find a way to fit 4 feet of American Hero (half without cheese) into my fridge to keep it fresh until guests get here. That’s a lot of sub for 6 people . . . or not enough.
I also put out a dish of my precious Starbursts (they are a contradiction, just like me). I hope that somebody brings booze. I only have one bottle of Bacardi.
I really love entertaining, but I always expect that something will go wrong. Mostly, I’m afraid that no one will show. This comes from experiences in my childhood. I was unpopular and only a few kids would come to my birthday parties, even if they were at someplace fun, like at a bowling alley or an arcade.
12 year olds all bowl with blue balls . . .
the kicker was that none of my school friends came to my bar mitzvah. 3 Friends came, and I knew them from outside of school. Instead, of all my “friends” went to another kid’s party because they liked him better. A couple did come to the service, and for that, I am grateful, but there is nothing like being the center of a party where the only people there are relatives that you hardly know.
When I was a teen, i always tried to have people over at my place and I would supply the beer or weed. I wanted them to like me. I think that they did, but they certainly liked my beer. The fact that none of them talk to me anymore is probably for the best. Sure, people drift away, but that little kid standing alone at his bar mitzvah still feels like he’s up there on stage alone, in an awful brown suit, with terrible hair that my mom cut and big ugly glasses.
This turned into a very whiny post. I am sorry for that. I will end with 5 things I like about throwing parties:
5 — I don’t have to drive home — I can get as drunk as I want and don’t have to drive drunk. (BTW: AAA will drive you home for free tonight)
4 — No passing out on a strange couch — There is always the danger of waking up with a penis drawn on your forehead. Once I woke up covered in vomit and girlfriend (Not the current one)
3 — People bring you beer — alcohol delivery system 🙂 Remember, in fiction, all writers, priests, and wizards are alcohol dependent
2 — The antici . . . pation — I love the feeling of right now, waiting for people to show. It’s all very exciting
1 — Validation — I am weak and I need to believe that people love me. More whininess. I am such a douche.
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