Well, it’s official.  I’ve become my dad.

See, it’s 6AM on a Saturday morning and here I am, wide awake. I sat upright, rolled out of bed, and looked at the clock this morning and realized – “Holy crap, why can’t I sleep until 2pm any more these years?”

I might as well turn on a sports game of some sort, then mow the lawn before 8, then drive around to the neighbors in the countryside and go visiting.  I believe that would complete my transformation into my father.  Oh no, wait, I have to bicker over prices at a Walmart checkout first.

Not that there’s anything wrong with my dad – he’s an awesome guy.  One year he filled the car with clowns, set it on fire, and drove it off a cliff for us kids to learn the harsh realities of life and death.  “Boys, life’s hard.  One minute you’re there, the next you’re gone – just like those clowns.  Now help your mom with the dishes, I’ll clean up this mess.”

When it came time to teach us kids the birds and the bees, my father abducted Gene Simmons and Dolly Parton and made them copulate in front of us.  “Boys, this is what it means to be a man,” he said while gently prodding Gene Simmons in the cage with a long stick.  “Get moving, Gene, Dolly is waiting and these boys aren’t getting any younger.”

Anyways, I resent getting up so early in the morning.  It’s totally bullshit.

—–

Have I mentioned I’m a weirdo when it comes to listening to music?  I usually listen to the same songs over and over, sometimes for weeks on end.  It’s like I’m musically autistic or something.

The last few weeks I’ve been in Blue Rodeo mode, and before that it was the Bee Gees.  Yeah, the Bee Gees.  Anyways, you international people may not have been exposed to Blue Rodeo before since, well, you’re not Canadian … you fortunate bastards.  (Just kidding, it’s awesome being a Canadian – look I’m in a doctor’s office – now I’m not! – now I am again! – now I’m not!  – and I didn’t even get out my wallet!)

You might like Blue Rodeo, have a listen.  Pretend you’re in a big black Cadillac driving through the desert or something.

Have I ever told you that mandolins make me stiff?  No?