I awakened 10 years ago half a century old. That's 50 years for you dullards out there. My compadre at the time T-Bonus Maximus Puppius Doggus (Roman style name) and I began our day as usual around 4PM. It was Thursday and I was hosting the "Acoustic Jam Night" at the world famous Caribbean Club in the Mile Marker 104 entertainment district in Key Largo, Florida.
To be fair to the faint of heart or those prone to harsh judgements this story contains alcohol, tobacco and drug references with tales of debauchery and bung foolery. Well maybe it ain't that bad but I'm kinda like a penis on cocaine...I've got no sensitivity.
I knew there were going to be a few of the guys showing up to play that by this time in the life of the acoustic jam night we had a pretty groovy bunch of guys that enjoyed jamming together like John McKinna, Grateful Ted...Stumpy had his Congos as well as assorted percussion instruments and the rain stick set up on the custom "auxiliary stage" built just for Stump. RIP guys, I hope there's a jam on the other side of this reality...
T-Bone walked me to Shipwrecks for the first beer of the day (unless you count the ones I had in the wee hours back when the Carib stayed open until 4AM). The birthday beer of choice was Stella. I had two of the large drafts just to whet my whistle. My handsome and unwitting co-conspirator escorted me back home at some point and he wisely chose to stay home for the remainder of the evening.
This is where my recollection has been augmented by some of my fellow celebrants who didn't follow me into the heart of inebriation land where memories disappear. I vaguely recall the table with the cake and the balloons. Seems there were decorations denoting my 50 years on this planet.
It's just my nature to take whatever party good(s) I am offered which has led to some precarious situations in my life but what can I say? I'm not looking for a long time just a good time. Quality > quantity. Needless to say by the time my wife intervened to collect my "gifts" I had already consumed more than I actually needed. The next morning when she emptied her purse on the coffee table we had a fine selection of pharmaceuticals and weed. We had anything you might need for pain, anxiety and/or numbness in the extremities. A pile of powders for the low energy types...
At one point the alcohol and downer buzz was starting to make the world spin a little sideways. I thought I might be going down for the count like a chump fighter taking on the champ. Just when the bench outside looked liked an inviting king sized bed with an adjacent garbage can for all my heaving needs should any arise the hallucinogenics kicked in. Thank fucking God.
The world and its off kilter spin stabilized as my mind rose above the confusion of the alcohol buzz. The urge to purge satiated by the new, higher level of consciousness. From that vantage point all other buzzes are rendered coincidental. The perpetual grin well established on my face. After several hours my face muscles are sore from the intense smile.
At one point I thought it would be a good idea to walk home and fetch T-Bone back with me. The wife thought that would be a bad idea. She lost track of me for a while and sent Allan Truesdell to look for me. I had wandered off with someone to partake of who knows what. As Allan made his way up US1 towards my house he spots some legs with flip flops sticking out of the bushes in a dimly lit area.
He can barely make out a beard in the shadows. Allan grabs the poor, panic stricken homeless guy up as he asks Allan excitedly, "What did I do? What did I do?" Allan says, "Shit! You're not Luke" and tosses the dismayed fellow back into the bushes. By the time Allan came back to the Club I had emerged from where ever it was that I was at- soaking wet from my head to my waist. Not a drop of water on my shorts or legs- we still haven't figured out how that happened. Weird things always happen when I'm tripping (doing hallucinogenics).
I remember embarrassing myself on stage at one point during the evening but thanks to karaoke that's not a big deal anymore. It's all fun and games until someone takes themselves seriously. The whole point of this life is to just have fun. That's what it is to me anyway. The only thing that matters is how we treat each other.
That was 10 quick years ago and now I'm turning 60. There's people in their 80s that are in way better health than I am like my in-laws for example. But I've always lived more years in a decade than most people do. I generally do two years of living in the average man's year that's why I age so ungracefully. Back to that "here for a good time not a long time" thing as well as biting off more than I can chew. But god dammit I give it hell. I'm liable to choke to death trying to swallow the next large time but you can't say I didn't enjoy life. ☮️❤️😁🎶👣🖖
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