Crasymaker

We went to the Washington County Fair last night.

There was a monkey named Leroy.

This might be the best picture I have ever had the priviledge of being in.

Lilys “Day Of The Monkey”

This past weekend was a busy one. I finished moving in to my new house, did some weed eating, went to JR’s Lightbulb Club on its last night of existence and I attended my high school reunion downtown at The Radisson.

I’ll post more about my house later when we are finished fixing it up (read: next year) and when there are some killer photos to show and brag about. Weed eating is just weed eating and nobody wants to read about how tough I felt when purchasing my first gas-powered weed eater.

The closing of JR’s is pretty depressing. I have been drinking beer and playing shows at that place for over 10 years now and it’s been a Fayetteville hotspot since 1988. Apparently, it will re-open in a couple of months as a gay dance club called “Tangerine”. Seriously. No joke. There are rumors that the owners are opening a couple of JR’s-style dive bars around town pretty soon but none of them will feature live music. Four letters: L-A-M-E.

At my reunion, I was surprised to see that nobody had changed all that much after 10 years. I’ll bet after 20, I won’t even be able to recognize myself, let alone any of the other freaks and geeks (oh yeah, and cool dudes). The reunion itself was pretty boring but I did have a great time catching up with 5 or 6 friends from back in the day. I laughed harder than I’ve laughed in a few months and I managed to sabotage a few of my classmates by constructing something I like to call “Spoon Tied To A Balloon In The Aisle So It Gets Tangled In Peoples’ Feet While They Walk Behind Me.” There were a couple of celebs there too including me, a girl we went to high school with who was on MTV’s The Real World and her (husband?) Scott Wolf from Party Of Five fame.

The sweetest part of the weekend, however, was finding out that Seth and I’s names were still in the mailbox at the townhouse we lived in together right after graduating highschool 10 years ago. Hell yeah. Check it out in the picture below.

MC5 “High School”

I knew that when I became a homeowner, I would be responsible for things that I have never had to worry about before such as calling a plumber and actually having to pay for it myself or replacing the air filters in the air conditioner and NOT getting reimbursed by the landlord. But I never thought that within one week of owning my first house the mailman would knock on the door and explain that since I did not have a roadside mailbox, then I would have to pick my mail up at the post office every day until I installed one myself.

He said something about it being part of a plan to convert our neighborhood into a safer place to deliver mail since there is no sidewalk. Sounds legit, right? Wrong. Why? BECAUSE NOBODY ELSE ON OUR STREET HAS A ROADSIDE MAILBOX. I figured that by the time I got home from work yesterday, I would notice lots of brand new mailboxes and would get a feel for what kind of mailbox to buy and how to install it. Nope. Not a single mailbox had been put up and nobody was even measuring or standing in the yard looking like they might be thinking about how or where to install their mailbox.

I immediately decided it must be a practical joke that the neighborhood oldies had gotten together and organized in order to initiate Sarah and I into their little club since we’re the only people on the street under the age of 70. By now I’d become all nervous and paranoid thinking that I was gonna end up on some new show called Geriatric Punk’d where Don Knotts comes slowly rolling up from the distance in a wheelchair and announces, “Nnnneewww Nnnnottt Nnnunnnkd.” And I say, “Excuse me?” And he says, “Nnnneewww Nnnnottt Nnnunnnkd.” And I say again, “Excuse me??” And finally one of the cameramen says, “I think he’s trying to say ‘You got Punk’d'”

As it turns out, all NEW residents have to get a mailbox so that eventually, when all these old people move away (read: die) there will one day (read: soon) be a street full of nice shiny roadside mailboxes and then the mailman won’t have to worry about getting run over by a Pontiac Bonneville that is driving a full 8mph down our street.

Lightnin’ Hopkins “No Mail Blues”

Don’t forget to check out the Lunch Tour! site from time to time. In case you don’t know, it is another blog that I post on with four other co-workers/friends. Basically, we became incredibly bored of going to the same old lunch spots and decided to venture out where no professional has been before. Along the way, we have discovered some excellent food and some even more excellent service tucked away in the cracks and corners of Northwest Arkansas. And then we write about it.

A few of the highlights so far have been The Cafeteria at Washington Regional Hospital, The Mercantile (gas station) Grille and Taco Place.

I liked Taco Place so much that I wrote and recorded a radio jingle for them. Wanna hear it? Yes? Sweet, then head on over to the Lunch Tour! site and check it out. We even have some awesome merchandise if you’re interested. Yay!

Paul Westerberg “Jingle”

When we rented our house last August, we happened to noticed the sign in the yard just minutes after it was placed there. While we were insided getting a tour, a young couple walked up onto the porch and yelled, “If they aren’t sure about this house, then we’ll sign a lease right now!” I thought to myself, “Either this house is the coolest rental in Fayetteville or the landlord has paid this couple to run up here and push us into signing a lease.” So we signed a lease on the spot, partially because we were getting desperate and partially because I am a sucker.

This year was just as exciting. At 8am on Monday, I dropped off the last month’s rent with a note explaining that we wouldn’t be renewing our lease. Exactly one hour later, the landlord called and asked if she could show it at 10am the next day. WHAT?! I wanted to ask her how in the hell she found a potential renter in under an hour but instead, I said, “Sure.” Shorty after showing the house, the landlord called and said she wouldn’t be showing it anymore because the potential renter was now the definite renter. Wow.

Take a close look at that “For Lease” sign in the front yard. It’s a very rare species that only emerges once a year for about 24 hours. I was very fortunate to get as close as I did and even more so that I was able to snap this photo…

Lifter Puller “Rental”