Mayday Friday Fluff
I try to show some sort of semblance of political correctness from time to time. So I'll kick off this story with telling you that one of the first customers at the neighborhood coffeeshop every morning is a "special" person. Bobby Bracelet would flat out call him retarded. But you get the picture. Whenever I show up to the coffeeshop within the first half hour ofopening, the special guy is always there sitting at the counter in the first seat.
"Come on in, we need customers!" he always says.
I sit in a booth near the back in order to avoid the chattiness of the special guy. Sometimes a couple of officers from the LAPD sit in the last booth and I listen in to their conversations. Mostly sports talk. Lakers. NBA playoffs. Some NFL draft musings. Nothing juicy, just the standard early morning bullshitting banter that most males exchange between the hours leading up to lunch in order to pass the time at their shitty jobs. Doesn't matter if your a salesman at Teldar Paper or a member of the LAPD. Guys talk about the same shit, except the cops have guns and tasers.
I've been up before the dawn almost every day since I returned from Argentina. It's the withdrawal. The insomnia has been brutal, one of the worst batches I had to endure in a very long time. That's one of the fallouts and drawbacks from trying to kick the pharmies. One of the few positive aspects pharmies was that they made me tired and I slept more on the nights that I popped a few. I usually got four or five hours compared to the usual three hours. Even though I turned into a pill-popping junkie, I was well rested.
Alas, no more pharmies and a lot more hours of sleeplessness which makes trying to kick pharmies a little more harder. I look more strung out mostly because of the lack of sleep. Such is the oddities of life.
I scurry around the apartment in the earliest of morning. Sometimes I peek through the blinds and watch the homeless dumpster divers sneak into the alley and quietly sort through the recyle bins in search of beer bottles left over from the guys upstairs. Other times, I watch the feral cats walk along the wooden fence in the alley as the sun slowly creeps through the buildings. After an hour or so of writing at the dining room table with the window open, I head out to the coffeeshop.
I used to read pages of Lost Vegas during breakfast. But since I'm in full blown editing mode, I chose to enjoy the first meal of the day with a book instead of agonizing over my own words. I'd rather ease into the heavy editing mode and let my brain soak up other things. It's far more easier for me to write five thousand words in a day than it is for me to read through five thousand words and inspect every single sentence. Five hundred is a fuckin' chore. I'm so familiar with the material (especially in the first ten chapters) that I miss a lot of the little things and end up rushing through paragraphs. I have been fighting that urge and the result has been a pain-staking re-write. I'm way behind schedule.
I'm almost done with reading McMafia. The last couple of chapters about organized crime syndicates in Nigeria, South Africa, and Canada have been eye-opening. Like that high end 419 scam involving a Brazilian bank and the Nigerian Airport.
There have been several intriguing passages about the different rackets and little bits of information that I found fascinating. For example, I did not know that South Africa exports roughly 10% of the world's marijuana harvests... mostly to the UK and Western Europe. And there was one number that was staggering... that 6% of British Columbia's GDP was derived from the marijuana industry. The Canucks are growing pounds and pounds and pounds of buds for American consumption because basically millions of citizens are engaging in acts of civil disobedience every day at 4:20. Some of them do it hourly.
I'm addicted to reading again. I go through phases where I either read books voraciously or don't read at all. Sometimes I'm in a heavy film phase and Nicky and I head out to the pictures a couple of times a week seeing the latest releases that the studios have been churning out. Sometimes, we catch up on seeing older flicks that we never had a chance to see because of work/scheduling conflicts.
During the 24 hours of flying to and from South America, I caught up on four or five flicks so I didn't have an cinematic urge to purge. That's why I've been on a reading kick. I knocked off two books last week and will be done with McMafia sometime today. I have three books on deck, which should keep me busy over the next two weeks.
Katherine Heigel has one helluva rack. I guess I'm late to the game with that assertion. Just had to throw that out there.