rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

so false alarm, I’m not going.
I legitimately want to go. for all the bluster, all the ‘oh, it’s so far away and all my relatives are crazy’ bullshit, I want to go.
do I want to pay my last respects to a relative? yes. she was the shit. twenty dollars on my birthday and hard as nails. but also, I like seeing everybody. fuck, funerals are events. like, for instance, my brother called me tonight, late, while I’m waiting for the press to start. and he says, “dude, right now it’s like the 12th inning of game five in the world series. it’s been this way for a while. it’s getting heavy.”
and I know exactly what he means, and I want in.

it’s sad, but you remember these things. I remember them specifically. I remember my grandfather’s funeral. I remember who was there. I remember how fucking cold it was. I remember finding out he died, and I remember the viewing, and the food, and watching “Half Baked” at like 2 in the afternoon with about a dozen relatives in the next room, and carrying the casket to the church on 45th Avenue, and how painfully cold it was, and everyone bawling and writhing because nobody on that side of the family goes quietly in front of the grim face of death, and Bronko’s (right?) chicken in the church hall afterwards. you remember these things.
I remember when my grandmother in Pennsylvania died. I remember finding out about a day earlier and having to catch a flight with Mar at the last second. it was rough. about a week after Thanksgiving. she stayed at my apartment so that we could leave immediately in the morning. she woke up in the middle of the night to find me watching “Roseanne” in my boxers, and she ridiculed me for it. to hell with you, Mar. then there were actually bagpipes at the gravesite. and I drank beer with my cousin Courtney. and hoagies. and sleeping on an air mattress in my grandmother’s empty apartment.
this is the biggest one I’ve missed, I think. but how can you measure these things?

so since I’m not going, I’m turning again to the five days off that are coming up Saturday.
I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do.
really. no idea.
no, that’s not true. I have a couple ideas. but I have no plans. suggestions?
I’ve been thinking the beach. a quiet beach. like a state park. like Assateague.