I would let this go, but. . . yesterday driving I turned the radio on, tuned to the university jazz channel, and a song began to play that sounded like a Martin Deny tune. I looked at the display and read "Watiki 7." That was the band. A bit unnerved by that.
Tiki culture survives!
And so.
I had to make my own pre-missionary hula dancer in Chat. She is pretty European, though. Someone was dallying with the natives.
That's about "all I got." Other than the pho I made last night. Delicious. Made with the bone broth from the Vietnamese restaurant. The jalapenos were hot, though, and my mother couldn't eat it. Said her mouth was on fire.
I wish I had more to offer, but nothing interesting really happens here in my mother's house. Am I tired of spending every Friday and Saturday night here with mom? Spending every single night never going out?
I don't think I can watch any more television. I'm nervous, anxious, and, frankly. . . scared.
"I'm not the man I used to be."
Sure, sure. . . and that may be a good thing.
And so. . . I'll leave you with music--a live performance of "Adventures in Paradise" by the Watiki 7. Enjoy.
"And if I die before I wake. . . "
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