*boilk*
It’s been a while since I started a blog with one of those, but there’s no other way to begin today. Which, I should tell you, is going to be a very short blog. There’s an equation which links the longness of Arsenal blog posts with the amount of Old Fashioneds a man has consumed the night before.
The more Old Fashioneds, the shorter the blog. That is how it works. I just woke up a little while ago, much later than I usually do, and my jeans were in the bath in my hotel room. If that doesn’t tell the story, I don’t know what does. Don’t worry though, there wasn’t any water in the bath, my trousers are bone dry, and I went to bed when I came in rather than thinking ‘I’ve had a lot of Old Fashioneds, I should have a bath’. I’m not into baths, to be honest.
Anyway, the main issue is that I was out celebrating the birthday of an American man who is now 50. Which, I have to tell you, is really, really old. So old. I’ve dealt with it, but can I say the same for Elliot Smith, the host of the ArsenalVision Podcast? I’m not so sure. Those of you who listen will understand he’s got some issues. And when I say some, I’m being kind.
*boilk*
He had his party last night to celebrate his leaving his 40s behind and that’s where all the Old Fashioneds happened. For a while he tried to make hay out of the fact he was still in his 40s, but at midnight, that shit didn’t wash with me anymore. I said ‘Listen Cinderella, you’re 50 now and you better start acting like it!’, and he just sashayed away, probably dancing to something by Huey Lewis and the News.
I think. You can’t quote me on this, even if I’m writing it down.
My point is this though: you get a stage in your life and you think you’ve made all the friends you’re ever going to have, and you don’t have the time or the energy for any more. Then someone like this comes along and you realise you’re wrong. Maybe you’re just worn down by his relentless chatter – good lord this man can talk – but maybe too it’s just because he’s a lovely person, with a lovely wife, with the biggest, kindest heart there ever could be and you’re a sucker for that kind of shit. I love dogs. He’s a human dog and I that’s the highest compliment I can pay him. He doesn’t even shed (much)!
I think it might be that last bit. Because in the end, we all need more love and more kindness in our lives. And coffee. We need coffee. Well, I need coffee, and I know there’s a good place quite close to the hotel so I’m going to go there. I will extricate my pants from the bath tub, which I made of point of not drowning in by virtue of not putting any water in it, and a double espresso is necessary. Then probably another one.
For those of you heading to Union Chapel this evening, doors open at 6.30, show starts at 7.30, and we’ll be upstairs in the bar afterwards for chats and mingling, but please, no more Old Fashionds. Ok, if you insist, maybe one. Or two. BUT THAT’S IT.
My bath tub needs pants.
