Analysis

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Turn Your Head and Cough

In which our hero does something just to be part of the group.

[The quoted part that follows was originally written on the weekend I spent in Peoria attending my 20th high school reunion. I have retained the original text as written, adding in numerical annotations for things I had further thoughts on later.]

**Friday night, October 3rd, Mt Hawley Bowl, Peoria, IL**

"It would be safe to say that I no longer have any desire to smoke cigarettes (1). After opting to have one with Dimples (2), I found it didn't really do anything for me. As far as my ego went, it was nice to be able pick up a cigarette and have a few drags without doubling over in a fit of coughing (3). But I really have no idea why that would be important to me other that to allow me to fir in a bit better with groups that I don't really associate with anymore. I don't go out to the bars much any more, (4)"

(1) Or cigars, or anything else of that nature.

(2) It was a sight straight from the old days, me dashing out the door hot on Dimples' heels. Then, I became instantly aware and slightly embarrassed at what I was doing. So, to explain my sudden appearance at Dimples' side, I bummed a smoke. Since I wouldn't admit to her or anyone else that I wanted to talk to her by myself for a while, I instantly came up with a cover story. I had no idea what was in store for me on Saturday night.

(3) That really seems to say something about how desperate my need to fit in is, doesn't it?

(4) Not to mention that most bars and such in IL are smoke free now.

The whole thing was areally odd scene. All six of us were in the bar of a bowling alley, and at one point in time, three or four of us were having a rather lively discussion of the nature of faith, religion and God. This was even more interesting considering that that backgroud music to this discussion was, at one point, old Black Sabbath tunes. The Johns spent most of their time playing pool, and any time Cromag or I let the conversation lag, the ladies were quick to fill in the gap with stories from their combined past. The dinner we had prior to this was quite nice. Neat little Italian resturant called Rizzi's. I got a plate of tortellini roughly the size of a garbage can lid and about as deep as a wading pool with enough pasta in it to keep me fed for the next two calendar years. It was kinda hinky. Even without the capers, still kinda hinky.


*The redo of the studio floor is done, and more trash is set to hit the curb next week.

*This is like the bestest indian summer in a looooong time.

*MSD is now experiencing the full joy of home ownership.

*The Princess Cowgirl remains MIA.

*My long term memory is for shit. Period. Or should that be a comma?