Just a Note Before I Go

It would be hard to beat my last vacation, jetting off from Louis Armstrong International Airport after dumping the Postman at Jazz Fest. But as I prepare to leave for a week of camping on the sodden Maine coastline, in what weathermen are calling the coldest, wettest June in 100 years of record keeping, I am thinking of giving up vacation permanently and saving myself the money and frustration.

 

That being said, my Subaru is packed and I've bought new rain coats for me and my daughter. I also bought a portable DVD player, cards, dice and copious amounts of alcohol. I'm ready!

 

But before I go, an update on the dating scene. Alas, Lawrence of Acadia was a bust, just like you all warned me he would be. Why oh why do I fall for someone with great language skills again and again?

 

Speaking of which, here are recent photos of Machine Gun Man, who is currently working in San Francisco. He has brought his Craigslist tactics with him to the West Coast. "Women keep thanking me for not being gay," he tells me. He doesn't look bad, except for the speedo. If only he could keep his mouth shut.

 

But back to Lawrence. Nice guy, actually a great day together, but he is 3 inches shorter and much balder than advertised. Staring down at the top of his shiny pate most of the day, I realized that height is definitely a deal breaker for me. We went on a 15 mile bike ride along the Maine coast. Fortunately I am very fit and was able to keep up but I kept thinking that he did not really vette this point with me much. I am imagining a less rugged date staggering back to the parking lot in kitten heels after just 2 or 3 miles. Not me! 

 

It wasn't just the physical appearance that did him in. He told me about his job aspirations. It is to become a permanent substitute teacher at a local school. How's that for climbing the corporate ladder. What, was the temp agency out of gigs? When we pedaled by a strawberry field being picked by itinerant workers, he said, "I've done that!" He just got his own apartment 3 weeks ago. Prior to that, he was "in a house with other people." I didn't ask what that meant - just pedaled faster to get back to my car.

 

Meanwhile, the Kavorka is strong with me. When breaking down my PA system after a gig last weekend, the cook at the restaurant carried out my equipment to my car for me then asked for my number. I was as surprised as he was when I gave it to him, "REALLY? Wow!" he said, as he dialed my number from his cell to make sure it was real. I will need to find a way out of this one as I am back playing at this tavern next month.

 

So off for a week without a computer and little cell phone reception. That should keep me out of trouble.