Up the Tree

Would anybody think less of me if I admitted that I’m listening to Counting Crows’s _Hard Candy_ and I’m kind of enjoying it?

Because I feel like a real pussy.

(a guy in a suit buying Mr. Softie ice cream on 52nd Street friday.)

Last night I was supposed to head off to the gym. My old college friend Jeff gave me a call, however, and given the choice between heart raising, calorie burning, healthy workout and a beer…

We went over to “The Belmont Lounge”:http://belmontlounge.citysearch.com/. A bar that, despite it’s best efforts to the contrary, is relaxing and a decent place to have a drink, or in my case 6-8. Our very pleasant waitress Cindy delivered Brooklyn Lager after Brooklyn Lager to the point that when the lemon drop shots she had bought us arrived I didn’t automatically realize that it was a terrible idea.

During the _boys night out_ Jeff reminded my of one of our old roommates Gabby who was on our college basketball team. (It must be explained the SUNY Purchase is not known, nor does it have a good basketball team.) He was actually on a basketball scholarship to the college. He was an intimidating young fellow with a bad taste in music, a penchant for sexual harassment, and various tattoos. His best tattoo was the image of himself crucified on a cross holding a basketball in his right hand, below the words *INSANE*.

I had completely forgotten.

Now, I’ve been going to the gym for a while now; Pumping iron, downward dogging, stair mastering. After such strenuous and sweat producing activities, I often take a shower at the gym.

The one thing I always find interesting, when changing, is the guys you wouldn’t think wear tighty-whities do in fact wear them.

*Just goes to show.*

Buds are forming, shoots of grass lifting, and small flowers slowly opening. I welcome the change in weather. I have had enough of winter and miss -scandals- sandals.

Spent Montauk Weekend
Returned to New York and war
Sunscreen please protect