So I still have all this British money in my wallet that I apparently refuse to take out because I think I'm going to run across a currency-exchange booth on my way to work. Maybe it makes me feel...exotic? Maybe not.
Whatever the reason, I told Trina and she said, "Yeah, I found a wad of cash in one of my pockets the other day...Malaysian."
I want to write a script just so I can share this scene with the rest of the world, because it might be the funniest thing anyone has ever said.
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Ok, I completely dare you to start off a script for some f'ed up thriller movie and start it with the phrase, "Yeah, I foudn a wad of cash in one of my pockets the other day...Malaysian."
I f'ing love Trina. Y'all should come over one evening and we can sit around drinking margaritas and telling stories. Because you know I am boycotting drinking out. And by boycot, I mean that when I do order a drink, I make sure it's a good one and then I hate myself later for it. Damn Onorato.
When I was a wee small bairn, my uncle Clay used to send me coins from the countries he visited. I've never had a formal collection, just a couple of cigar boxes with coins and assorted other detritus in them. Indian head pennies share space with change from a dozen countries, assorted pocket knives, aluminum tokens ostensibly redeemable for a free sundae at DQ, paper money from Canada and Mexico, a couple of $2 silver certificates, a buckeye and one or two bus tokens...
Such are the lesser milestones in the life of a packrat. Things don't mean that much to me; my prize possession is my 1965, 40 Watt, Fender, Concert amp which is a collectible and might be worth a couple of grand if it were in vintage condition, but it isn't. I've replaced the original Tolex vinyl with charcoal colored speaker carpet and the shiny grill cloth with flat black expanded metal. Every electrolytic capacitor and out-of-tolerance resistor has been replaced (some more than once) and all the tubes are relatively new, having been replaced numerous times. I care nothing for its value as a collectors item, I like the way it sounds and every guitarist who hears it, wishes he had one like it.
Life, when you get it right, is a series of mostly-happy moments with a few tears, a lot of joy, and lots of "things" thrown in, all of which are insignificant but some few of which are cool and should be appreciated for their cool-ness.
Life in the fast lane just wears out your tires. I'll take a beat up old pickup and a dirt road any day.
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