santa, peace and calm shit...

(or, how I spent my Veteran's Day weekend)

Let's start with the precursor to the long weekend... those few, frantic days of beading where I attempted to take my mind off of the bazaar details and word counts, focusing instead on turning Tibetan stones into lovely bracelets and necklaces. Naturally, this required reinforcements, namely in the form of comfort movies... and not the ones in my home that I watch constantly, but those I should own but do not (and seem to have the entire movie memorized despite this fact). I scanned the isles of Blockbuster in an expeditious yet mindful manner, and promptly exited the store with the following titles: Funny Face, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Empire Records. Quite a balanced assortment, if I do say so myself.

Like many of the female persuasion, I adore Audrey Hepburn, and my absolute favorite movie of hers is Funny Face. Hepburn plays an intellectual-turned-fashion-model who learns the valuable lesson, "Everyone wants to be kissed, even philosophers."

Eternal Sunshine is a nuvo-classic in my book. It reminds you that even if you could go back and change some of the rotten things in your life, you would end up loosing some of the glorious moments as well... they all make us who we are (for better, or worse). Plus it has great music.

If Eternal Sunshine is a good meal and Funny Face is the dessert, Empire Records is the late-night snack you just can't resist. Cheesy though it may be, it brings back warm-fuzzy memories of the CD Warehouse days... and Tuesday midnight sales... and late nights where even off-the-clock employees would show up for inventory nights... and torturing the guys with Christmas music... and the beauty that everyone could agree on Wilco... Saturday mornings in pajama pants... men selling boxes full of their ex-wife's music... junkies selling cd's they swear aren't stolen (even though they have three copies)... fighting over who gets the rare used copies of Beta Band, Belle and Sebastian, Ani DiFranco (they never made it into the hands of customers)...

Friday night turned into an all-night-pricing-setup-inventory extravaganza, leading into Saturday's sell-o-rama... at the end of the day I was exhausted but pleased with the turn-out. So exhausted, in fact, that I had to take a one-and-a-half hour nap before Sarah & I headed out to Whitewater to catch Samantha Crain and the Midnight Shivers. Being desperately deprived of sleep, yet demented enough to venture out into public (albeit, dark and smoky public), I stopped off for two double-decker tacos and a mountain dew to wake me up. Alas, that did not do the trick. While sitting through the (first) opening act, Sarah decided she wanted a beer. Any other night, and this would not have even been a question - the bar would have been our first stop upon arrival, but tonight I was tired and we both had to be up early. Had it been a Killians-on-tap night, I would not have succumed so easily to temptation, but when I leaned over and spied the yellow and red beer tap with rams horns, I immediately looked over at my partner-in-crime and requested, "Can you drive me home?" Reassured that our transportation was in safe hands, I treated my weary bones to a single glass of east Texas goodness.

I found an opening at the bar between two gentlemen who had been parked next to us while I polished off my Taco Bell in the gravel lot. While waiting to order our drinks, the man to my left began a polite conversation. "How are you?" he opened in a proper manner. "I'm good," was my generic reply, "and you?" He grinned, eyes crinkling and red nose glistening as he continued, "I'm great as long as the people are nice and the beer is flowing." I turned my attention back to the bar where the waitress was taking my order, and he persisted with "Are you getting ready for the holidays?". Man this guy would ask anything to keep a conversation going. "Oh, I'm getting there," I joked in return. "Yeah, I came early this year," said the chatty man. At this, I laughed heartily... did I mention his white hair and beard? "Man," I offered, "I was in charge of a fundraiser today, and we should have had you there... that would have brought in the crowds!" Now he had me engaged. "What type of fundraiser?" This should be interesting... "It was an international bazaar at my church." At this, his up-to-this-point-silent friend to my right blurted out "Bizarre!" I looked over, startled, and laughed. Santa continued, "What church is that?" His friend mumbled on about his disappointment of it being associated with a church, as I answered "Mosaic Church."

Apparently, Santa has a friend or neighbor or some such that he likes well enough and who attends Mosaic, but I got a little lost in his explanation. I was more distracted by the friend who was now reasoning that if the church members could drink beer, it can't be all that bad. Santa looked me in the eye, and sincerely concluded, "I think the world could use more peace and calm-shit." Now if I were anyone else, or perhaps if I weren't immensely drained by days of bazaar planning and implementation, I probably would have spun the conversation to explaining God's love and Jesus' sacrifice to these guys. However, in my state I settled for, "I'm all in favor of calm-shit." Luckily, I believe I have seen Santa there before and, hopefully, I will likely see him there again. At least he knows I'm approachable, and perhaps we can continue our conversation. The first opening act was good, but extremely long. The second opening band was probably also very good, and I think I would have enjoyed them in another context, but I just wanted to see Samantha Crain and go home to my big, comfy bed. We were able to make it through five or six of her songs before we decided we could not make it any longer, and we retreated home like all of the other sensible adults.

Sunday's continuation of the sell went well, and the Monday clean-up wasn't as much of a task as I had feared. While I intended Monday afternoon to be a productive adventure in word count, it managed to turn into me on the couch watching Legends of the Fall. I count this not as a wasted afternoon, but rather an unconcious decision to take time out and celebrate Veteran's Day. Tonight I will be a writing fool, and I will get back on track to reach my 50,000 words by November 30. No more bazaar, no more movies... it's all about the novel... I promise... I hope...