Scenes from the Holidays
Walking out of the Midway YMCA I saw an older man in a jacket struggling mightily with the big ass pole that holds up the big ass US flag that waves across the parking lot. I can tell he works for the Y; he’s wearing a big ass winter jacket but I can see the telltale signs of the YMCA blue polo by his neck and belt. All around the country and presumably beyond that, people of all ages are struggling with big ass poles bringing big ass US flags down to mark the death of Jimmy Carter. Grunts, mumbles and youtube videos being dialed up to pay tribute to a man who struggled as a President and flourished as a human. I only knew him as an ex-President. He had a spine and a moral compass which seemed to be his undoing and his doing. Is the man trying to half-mast the Ross thinking about Jimmy Carter or is he just thinking about the mechanics of the flag? I’m thinking about both.
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Everything points to the reality that my friend Seth has blow-dried his testicles, perhaps in a locker room setting.
Years ago I used to go to LA Fitness. I say this with all of my heart: fuck LA Fitness. Ending my relationship with them was more complicated than breaking a lease with a dickhead landlord. But the sauna at the LA Fitness was good. My high school friend Bryan Jameson was in there sometimes and it was always hot. My guess is it’s 2017 and the sauna is full. You’ll have to remember, if you can, that as recently as 2017 earbuds were way less common. At that time people either just sat in the sauna or they held their iPhone in a plastic bag like a fucking idiot and scrolled a loud ass Facebook page sans headphones. But, on this particular evening a young man walked into the sauna with earbuds in and started his sweat. An old man managed to tap young guy on his shoulder and proceeded to give a weirdly calm tirade with the thesis “what the fuck is wrong with this young generation? Plugging in at every possible moment and never just enjoying the moment! Why don’t you take out those headphones and just chill in the sauna?”. The young guy basically just said “I don’t know what’s wrong with my generation, leave me alone, I’m listening to my music”.
Flash forward to ten minutes later I see the same old man 108% naked over by the rarely used counter with mirrors, stools and blow dryers. Old man has his left foot up on a stool and in his left hand he is blowing air with a vigorous focus upon his previously saunad testicles. For me this negates any validity his point about the “young generation” possessed previously. What’s weirder: sporting ear buds in a sauna or blasting your nuts with a public use CONAIR? Don’t answer that. I know you think the air bath for the family jewels is weirder. NOT SO FOR SETH.
I told this story at his family’s Hanukkah party (the kids were downstairs playing) and Seth real quietly, just to me, goes “was it a steam room or a sauna?” It was a sauna Seth, but the point stands. Seth speaks up, “just enjoy the sauna, you don’t need earbuds. And in a steam room I certainly wouldn’t wear earbuds.” Are we doing this Seth? Are we re-litigating the headphone thing or are we laughing about an old guy doing a dong dry? And Seth says “the blow dryer thing seems more reasonable.” Also, what problem are you solving by air drying the family cashews? I don’t blow dry but I think it’s to bring your hair quicker to its preferred appearance. Is that what we’re doing with your nuts Seth? Are you making sure the hair dries in your preferred part?
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Humans are so obviously better than computers. As I’m shopping for food, for gifts, for books. As I’m giving my credit card I want to give it to a human. I want a human to lower the flagstaff. I want a human to dry his testicles at the LA Fitness in the Midway. I don’t want the robots to do everything. A couple days off from the radio job brings me to different businesses at different times. I see different humans doing different things, reading different things, laughing differently. Just in Saint Paul there are so many great people that I never want replaced by computers. I don’t want everything to be efficient. I want to buy my groceries from Michelle at Oxendale’s. I want to buy my records from Mike at Barely Brothers. I want to ask if Rainer re-dyed his hair while I buy my medium medium with room for cream. I don’t need convincing. I want humans.
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I spent one fantastic New Year’s Eve in Duluth playing at the Norshor Theater with Heiruspecs. 2003 into 2004 I bet. Rest in peace to Rick Boo, the promoter who brought us there. He probably lost his shirt that night. There was a radio station doing announcements, there were bartenders, there were sound people. But there wasn’t really an audience. Maybe seventy five people? Maybe. The famous music writer Jessica Hopper was there. Big Quarters had traveled with us and I believed they opened the show. Heiruspecs drank heavily but we were in healthy playing shape and put on an awesome show to that small crowd. I remember having so much fun and thinking building the crowd wasn’t our problem, at least on the actual day of the show it wasn’t anymore. There was a party afterwards, primarily curated by a woman I had kissed a couple times when I was in Duluth. Never more than kissing and not much more than kissing that night. A really fun party. A lot of people. And her house, I think her mother’s house, was out on Park Point. Her backyard was Lake Superior and it was a pretty modest house. And it was New Year’s. Cold, windy and majestic beyond all imagination. We kissed a lot and I don’t know a classier way to say this, I felt on her booty a lot. A lot. Everything about the moment, very much including her butt, felt just like the greatest possible situation. I was glad for the small crowd. I was glad this famous writer Jessica Hopper had seen us perform. I was glad to party and I was glad to be kissing with a beautiful girl whose mother lived on the peninsula at the end of the world. Her bedroom was the top floor. The sun came in and it felt late even though I bet it was early. 2004 had started. The band went to Pizza Luce for brunch.