Flashback To Pajamas

Earlier today I stopped by Der FoodMeister to pick up some asiago cheese. Melt some asiago on a bagel and eat it with some cream cheese. Do it now. You will think you done died and went to heaven. It's a savory delight in every bite.

As I was strolling through the parking lot, I saw a car with a Kennedy/Johnson bumper sticker. You can get them at the Kennedy Library. It triggered a memory from my youth. Aren't we all lucky that this picture was taken to capture this moment from Christmas Day back in 1989? You can see why I recognized the bumper sticker. I'm the jerk with the guitar.

My brother and I always got new pajamas on Christmas Eve. I'm not sure how long we would actually wear them, as neither one of us are very fond of sleeping so attired. Obviously, there are two Kennedy campaign posters, and a Rebel Without A Cause poster, as well. That was my side of the room. My brother's posters are on the other side of an invisible boundary line that we apparently guarded very, very well. Look at that typewriter! I have a small collection of typewriters, but when it comes to actually writing anything you really can't beat a computer. I'm sorry. I'm a romantic, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Saying, "Aw, fuck!" repeatedly and using gallons of White Out is about where I draw that line.

My brother is playing Nintendo. Probably some game that you can download in less than a minute and play with an emulator on your computer. I'm doing some sort of mock cool pose that is so unbelievably unflattering that it's, well, hard to believe. It was only a matter of months after this that I joined the Socialist Party and began the journey leading to psychosomatic illnesses brought about by political frustration. In return I got to learn from, and enjoy the company of, radicals and intellectuals like Anne Rosenhaft, Frank P. Zeidler, David McReynolds, J. Quinn Brisben and Bill S.

Well, that's about all I have today. I'm getting a little choked up here thinking about the first time I met Quinn Brisben. I was totally blown away. He and his wife Andrea took me to dinner and they told me about how they smuggled condoms into the Soviet Union. He then insisted on taking me out to see as many plays as possible, in MY home town. But I digress...again. Do you mind?