Sorry to be in and out so much the past few days, but I've got this newly-married old friend who basically hasn't been able to make a financial go of it in the big city (Biggest we've got, anyway). He's having to give up, pack it in, and move back in with his family in West Virginia. I've been running back and forth to Lincoln helping him move because his wife is very preggers, and he literally knows no one else around here.
21st Century. Democrats. Who knew?
Anyway, the one funny little bit to come out of this: The Republispouse suggested we should maybe make them a scrapbook of their 18 months here.
They live in an utterly crappy seedy part of town. Yesterday, while he was out for a couple hours getting a moving truck. I was bought some garage station hot dogs for lunch for his missus and me, and they had one of those 25-shot dispose-o-cameras on the counter, so I picked up one of those, took the food back to the mom-to-be, and excused myself.
As I said, he lives in a bad part of town, and there are easily fifty pornographic bookstores and theaters and sex shops and stripper bars and massage parlors within a mile of him. So I ran around with my dispose-o-cam, snapping pictures of them, making sure to get the front doors and the signs in frame.
Brother, you don't *EVER* want to do that! People going into and out of these places really don't want to be seen, and they certainly don't want to be photographed. I got a lot of weird looks, a lot of people throwing their hands over their faces or turning away, a lot of shouts and profanity. I got chased twice: Once buy two guys with one club, and another time by a car. The car was the first place I went to, though, and I figured it was just a fluke and kept going, and of course it was.
Still and all, it was all a spur of the moment thing, and I totally didn't see that reaction coming, though obviously I should have. I'm innocent. Surprisingly. It was the most reckless fun I've had in years, but believe me kids, I'm a professional crazy person: I can pull this off. I amuse the gods and they protect me. You guys never, never, never, never, never, NEVER want to try this. And even I'm not gonna' try it again. (The gods quickly grow tired seeing the same gags over again)
So anyway, I used up all my film and got back to his place in a hair over an hour, he still wasn't back. I didn't tell him about it. When he gets back home to Pipe Stem, I'm going to have the film developed, and send him a scrapbook consisting of nothing but 25 shots of pornographic establishments in his neighborhood.
I'm planning on calling it "Memories of Love and Laughter in Lincoln."