Record 31: Monterey, Sunday, July 5th, 2015. Day. Old John does his crossfit exercises on the wharf’s edge. He does them at sunup, not only for the sake of adding a, yes, hint of drama to the retelling of his daily crossfit undertaking, but, he will tell you, because he is infatuated with the sun, and its location relative to him mid-burpee. When asked why the sun is so arresting to him, he will tell you to think of a world with no natural light. A world artificially lit in
Read MoreRecord 22: Palm Springs, Thursday, July 5th, 2012. Day. Jake and his bro Ajax rode golf carts on the casino’s course every Thursday at 8pm. They never played golf. Casino and hotel patrons would often ask: “why?” The question was a fair one, says this guy here. Jake and Ajax, they didn’t like to respond to any such inquisition. Instead, they’d glare at the casino and hotel patrons from the casino and hotel bar, and when perturbed by dyspeptic tourists or slot-addicted regulars, they’d ask: “What are you doing in
Read MoreRecord 13: Corona del Mar, Monday July 5th, 2010. Day. The waiter at Ruby’s was chewing gum. It didn’t matter that his outfit was cleanly pressed and perfect fitting. He was chewing gum, and Arendt wasn’t having it. “Just who in the hell. Am I right?” He asked. Or stated. Or maybe both? “You’re always right, Arendt.” I said, wiping sweaty bangs from my forehead, an affectation I’d developed in the 90-degree heat (with 40% humidity). “Rosie, do not placate me.” “I’m not sure you know what that word means.”
Read MoreRecord 12: Pomona, Friday, July 5th, 2013. Day. Kenny Yamaha and I had been standing outside the Fox Theater for two hours, waiting to be let in. Kenny thought the doors opened at 7, but that was fucking wrong. I told him this a few times and he just drank his coffee, like ‘whatever man, fucking chill about it.’ So I fucking chilled about it and didn’t bring it up. Even though it’s now 8, and dark, and we’re in Pomona. Pomona fucking California. Have you ever been to Pomona
Read MoreRecord 11: Huntington Beach, Thursday, July 5th, 2012. Day. There is a merman that lives in Huntington Beach. This man is a certified swim instructor. He teaches young children and, occasionally, old men and women the backstroke. He teaches them how to tread water. He provides them with the necessary flotation devices, should they be required (note: flotation devices are not always required. This depends, of course, upon the trainee’s swimming proficiency). This man spends his free time at the beach, donning a golden spandex merman tail. He wears this
Read MoreRecord 10: Eagle Rock, California, Thursday, July 5th, 2010. Day. The first time I came home, the lights were still on. The living room was desolate and cold, and that’s how I remembered it during the days when my father smoked and told me that sometimes cigarettes aren’t bad for you. “Do you have friends at school?” He’d ask me. I did, and I loved them since we kissed all the time on the monkey bars and on the swings that would break if you swung too high. I still
Read MoreRecord 9: Glendale, California, Friday July 5th, 2013. Day. For weeks Dax had planned his 4th of July celebration. It was to take place in his new home’s back yard, at approximately 2:00 p.m. He was expecting over 20 guests, mainly colleagues from the printing company he had begun working at a month prior, and whom he had gotten to know over beers and marijuana smoke 2 – 3 times a week. He had been accepted by the clique of nerds almost immediately, it seemed. There was no inquisition as
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