80’s Mystical

If you’re a longtime reader of the Daily Miltonian — and if you’re not, you’re probably not reading this — you may recall our zany lists of yore exploring the various multi-fuck’d-up sonic why?-ways of Eighties Pop(ular) Music.  80’s Desert Music, 80’s Rapesax, 80’s Oriental: we were there, to hear, to cringe, to catalog.  This list is no different.  Ladies, gentleman, wizards: we present to you our latest List, forged from flames of Mordor, smoked from the 60’s Purple Haze of Puff the Magic Dragon, crawling with Manson, creepy with Crowley, overcoming strungout 70’s burnout, Dungeons and Dragons, Goat’s Head Soup, I Put a Spell on You, I’ve Got a Black Magic Woman, Baby Don’t Fear the Reaper…magic came back in the 80’s repackaged, glossy, an occult equation for money, white pants, cocaine, weird sex and Total Success: 80’s Mystical.

Summer in America

I’m back, having spent ten gloriously summer-hot days on the East Coast, serene by New Jersey ponds, relaxed on blanket with book on hot summer beach sands, swimming in an ocean that was warmer than the air, drinking beers with peers on piers in Philly, doing the backstroke in a suburban pool, enjoying a slice of pizza by the side of the highway, and falling deeper and deeper in love.  Back in Portland, summer has finally decided to show up.  Things are feeling Pretty Damn Good.

Most life-affirming moment so far: outside of Jilly’s Arcade, Ocean City boardwalk, in line getting ice cream for the kids, I take my first sip of an ice-cold bottle of Coke, the glass dotted with beads of perspiration, and to no one in particular — to the sun, to the blue sky — I say “Damn that’s good”, because dammit it just is.  A woman standing next to me is smiling, a perfect stranger, who perfectly says “I know, right?”

It’s summer in America.  Not a bad place to be at all.

The Yellow Line #26

*YL26

-That’s amazing, we have the same last name.

-Hah, yeah.

-Did you know that we can trace our name all the way back to the Mayflower?

-Nah, wild.

-It’s true, I’ve done the genealogy. You and me, we can be traced all the way back to the original pilgrims on the Mayflower.

-That’s wild.

-And also our name is even in the Bible!  We’re mentioned in the Bible.  We’re in the Bible.  And I’ve translated what it means.  Our name.  It means “He Who Wears Clean Garments.”

-He who wears…

-Oh no look, this is my stop. Wow, so yeah it was so great meeting you!  What did you say your first name was again?

-Ray.

-Ray! That’s my middle name!

-Nah no shit!

-It was great meeting you Ray! Have a great day!

-Yeah right on…same middle name…damn…okay take care!

The girl gets off at her stop.  She waves through the window.  She’s white, Ray is black.

The Yellow Line #25

*YL25

-That’s what I said, the only way way to do it is just take all the shit up to the counter and bolt.

-Yeah, I can’t steal any other way.  If I try to do it all slick I just can’t, I got such a look on my face this crazy look you know they can tell!

-Right, that’s why you just grab this, grab that, take it to the counter, be like how much is this?  Oh that much, then you put it back — coz you never take it all!  You get some, you give some back, that’s the way.  But I’ll be all chatty with them like I’ll be like I just got out of the hospital you wanna see my abscess?  And I’ll show them!  [Opens mouth really wide] Then I just grab all that shit on the counter and just bolt.  But f’real, I’m getting tired of stealing, coz people man they just gotta make it hard for you.  Like this one girl I gave her a chance, she coulda let me just go out but she had to stand there in the way, I went right for her legs then clocked her in the neck, BAP.  But like, why you gotta make it that hard?  If I had a store if I was the manager I’d be like, if you see them, just let them do it.  Coz I’m making it easy for you, you don’t have to get in trouble just don’t watch me do it.  Seriously.  People are fucking stupid.

The Yellow Line #22

Image

*YL22

Bro you gotta watch it with those bikes.  Those bikes will kill you bro.  Bro the other day, my bro and I got hit by one of those bikes, a fixie, like that one [points to my bike, which is not a fixie].  Right by the Goose Hollow Max stop.  Dude rolled right into us, hit me and my Four Loco I’m like oh shit I can’t drop my Four Loco!  My bro is like bro help me up and I’m like bro I can’t drop my Four Loco!