I'm in a Hilton. It looks like a Hilton. It smells like a Hilton. It is functional at best, meretricious. It is on the beach overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, but I must look across a long, flat roof to see it. I want to be out taking pictures, but I am at an industry conference all day with bosses from the factory. I will need to be zen.
I will say one thing about Hilton, though--they have good beds and pillows. The pillows suit me. The big comforter does comfort.
And still, I slept fitfully. It is apnea. I am sure it is apnea.
I realized something yesterday. Living a meaningful, comfortable, commercial-free, popular culture-free, artistic, educated life does not make you ready for 99% of what is out there. Jesus Christ, I didn't realize that people still listened to COMMERCIAL RADIO STATIONS. But they do. I don't know if they listen, really. How could they? The commercials blare out inanities with such force and vigor. Surely they are inured to it the way a prisoner becomes inured to his/her conditions. But this. . . this is VOLUNTARY. There are hardheads in crazy custom cars that wield them like weapons across the universe. There are stores full of junk that nobody would want except the tens of thousands of people who are shopping there.
I stopped in a mini-mart last night. I looked with wonder in the cooler at all the things I've never seen. There must be a hundred energy drinks. I have never tasted a Red Bull. But there was something, a treat, an Arnold Palmer in a can. I bought about a gallons worth and brought them back to the room. I drank one and liked it.
Oh. . . I didn't tell you why. I have a plan. I will no longer drink at home alone. Last night, I went to dinner with a group from the factory. We had sangria. After dinner, I had one scotch. I did not buy a bottle to bring back to the room. I figure I will cut down my alcohol and calorie intake incredibly. And I don't have to stress when I'm out with people who want to have a drink. I think I will be thin as rope within weeks.
Or I will be going out a lot more.
Or I will change my mind.
But I feel determined. And now I have the Arnold Palmer in a can.
Maybe all these People Magazine reading sonsofbitches know something.
O.K. I've got to go get dolled up. It's showtime.
Yes, you can always switch to drinking "John Daly's" if you change your mind:
ReplyDeletehttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arnold_Palmer_%28drink%29
Nope. Gonna try to stick with Arnold when I am home alone. I will try variations, I am sure, but of the non-alcoholic kind.
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ReplyDeleteI have been on a sangria kick myself. I had delicious version the other day -a white wine sangria with St. Germain. I took my mother to dinner the other night and had Strawberry Rhubarb Sangria (it is rhubarb season here now). Deelish.
I wish to spend the rest of the summer mucking about Cape Cod by day followed by long late afternoons on the water drinking sangria.
The N.Y. Times just had an article on the Sangria Revolution. It has become "the thing" for summer. I have no kick against that. Look for me walking on some Cape Cod shore this summer. I'll be the fellow with two sangrias.
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