Well, for those of you that have been waiting on the edge of your seats all nimbly-bimbly here is the new Patrick Garrigan blog:
greatness-with-gumption.blogspot.com
Not much on it now, but there will be. Oh, yes there will be... In the meantime, to see what I've been up to check out
catharsisdancegroup.com
Hang 10 on the INFORMATION SUPER HIGHWAY.
Well, I took up writing this little friendster blog as an exercise in improving my writing skills and creativity. A virtual independent study of sorts. My efforts have not been well received by family and friends (thanks Lisa and other friends who complained about e-mail alerts) Due to popular demand, this will be the end of my friendster blogging exploits. However, for those who read these blog entries and found them midly entertaining, fear not. I'm setting up a new account on blogspot. Here's the info:
www.garrrigan-gumption.blogger.com or something like that.
As soon as I figure out how the damn thing works I'll be back to my antics. That is all.
FRIENDSTER BLOG - GREATNESS THROUGH GARRIGAN GUMPTION
R.I.P.
JULY 23, 2006
"We barely knew ye...."
When I turned 27, yes, 27, it suddenly occurred to me that I was getting old. With a realization like this comes a certain degree of sadness to be sure. One starts to feel that life is flying by, the good years are past and that you may as well surrender to being an old man. I have already adopted a lot of the habits of old men: scratching my ass with wild abandon and telling those, "oh no, he's not really going to tell that cheesy joke and laugh at it himself, is he?"-style anecdotes. Why not go whole hog?
For further exploration, let's examine this new frame of aged thought through the prism of my recent trip to:
This area has become the epicenter of all things young and hip. Which I have decided I am neither. Now, I've been to the LA area a few times and I don't like it. In fact, I hate it. When I found out that I had to go for work I wasn't too excited. However, I was going for business meetings- because that's what grown up men do. So I comply.
When flying your first thought upon boarding is, "please dear God, just don't sit me next to a fat person." It is unfortunate that you think that and as much as you are disappointed in your own bias, your need for self-preservation wins out as you walk with anticipation of what awaits you. This old man arrives at 22E to find that he is in the center of the row sandwiched between a 40-something male unfortunately decked out in skin-tight Under Armour apparel and a drowsy Asian octogenarian. Great.
Several minutes into the flight:
To my right Mr. Sunday Night Football stretches out, taking the arm rests- his creepily long arm hair brustling against mine as he takes deep wheezy breaths. And to my left? My fellow elderly friend has opted to use my shoulder as a pillow. Well this kermudgeon is none too pleased. Luckily, following doctors orders, I had started my day with a large helping of yogurt. Did I mention, I'm lactose intolerent? I probably should have. Never was I so happy to be afflicted with such a condition. I giggle with glee as I repeatedly lean to my right and left releasing my own brand of bitingly stinky gifts to my row mates. Some things do get better with age.
I finally get my rental car, wouldn't you know it bumper to bumper traffic. "Damn yuppies with their SUV's! Back in my day..... aw, nevermind." 2 HOURS later, I arrive at the hotel.
I swing the door open to my room, my large bed looks so comfy. I contemplate renting a porn through my in-room entertainment system, but decide I'm too sleepy. I would never reach the desired effect anyway. I turn on the tube, and flop on my bed. Why am I so tired? Early departure time? Crappy food? Jet lag? -"Just the way it is when you're old," I reason. I mix myself a generous helping of Metamucil and call it a night.
My meetings go on without incident. I stay fully caffinated and ultimately congratulate myself on professional decorum and the presence of both vigor and vim. When in OC, do as the OC-ians do. I change my clothes and head to the LA Fitness around the corner.
These gyms either by accident or by design have a unique coliseum-style feel to them. The cardio equipment reigns on the 2nd floor encircling the space. It takes all my self control to not stand in the center and scream "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED!?" But I resist and show myself to the water weights. If I'm going to be the old man in the joint, I decide I'm going to be the one who just doesn't give a fuck anymore.
I look everyone in the eye as I step to the racks to fetch my bitchin' 15 pounders for some curls. Then I stand in front of someone trying to watch themselves in the mirror and grunt - loudly. "Deeeaahhhh! ONE." I shout at full voice, as the other gym rats stare on in wonder. At least I think its wonder. Scared I might pull my Achilles (that was a pun from earlier, see...nevermind.), I decide to wrap it up and get some dinner. They ain't ready for THIS jelly.
Next to my hotel, is this incredibly cool open air shopping plaza called The Block. I have always hated malls, even before becoming old. However, I really had to hand it to the designers of this space. It is incredibly open and inviting. Well designed without being pretentious. I look at the directory to find some soft food and opt for a chain wrap place.
I sit outside and enjoy my 'Californian' wrap, as I watch people stroll by. My stubborn old ways come out once more. THESE KIDS. For starters I have never seen so many kids in my entire life! The concentration and the diversity of age was really remarkable, and awful. The young ones were burgeoning Ad Council spots for childhood obesity. I openly wince as I hear one scream, "I wanna Jamba Juice NOW!" The older ones were equally shocking. Girls with so much make-up on they would make Tammy Faye 'blush' (see what I did there? fuck. nobody gets me.) and the skankiest outfits I have ever seen. That's sayin' something too. I went to school with some real sluts.
I've met my limits and I head back to my hotel to put my teeth in a glass and get some sleep for my morning departure.
As I board the plane, I exhaustedly think back on my weekend and enjoy a delightful article on John McCain. "Now there's a good American," I confess out loud. (..and I really do think that. I'm not being ironic this time.) Boarding time arrives and I drag the tired 'ol bones back onto another plane. As I sit down, I shift in my seat to get comfortable. Most likely, the early onset of hemroids. Finally, I get my in-flight beverage, "Just an orange juice, please." The stewardess walks away.
She reappears a few minutes later with a cup of ice and a full can of concentrated OJ. "Here you go, kiddo." Kiddo!? Does she know who I am? Her circa 1992 bangs would suggest that she does not. Does she know that I am 27? I work to wrap my brain around this encounter, as I look down at my yellow, whimsical JuJu Fruit t-shirt complete with holes and paint stains. I begin to laugh. I'm suddenly a 'kiddo'.
I can't stop laughing. The woman next to me (who is outlining the qualities that make her a good mate-weird) gives me a look. After getting to the airport, I get into a cab and roll down all the windows to feel the air in my face. It just so happens that I get the best driver ever! I have the largest shit-eating-grin on my face as he takes 70mph speeds down the FDR, almost hits/trades expletives with a "real" old pretentious East-sider, and gets me to my apartment is what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes. It was totally kick ass! ...and I like, totally got these great shoes!
....except mine have red stripes.
DISCLAIMER: I'm sorry that this friendster blog sends out alerts. If I figure out how to stop it from doing that I will. In the meantime, I am sorry.
So it has been quite some time since my last posting of ought five, but believe it or not I've had a lot of thoughts. Some of them include:
DRIP, DRIP, DROP....
One of the things that have to make you laugh or you'll go screaming for the hills - the mysterious drops of water that descend from high above the buildings of New York. Now, I know what you're going to say, "oh Patrick, don't be a dipshit. That is just condensation from air conditioners dropping down on your pretty little head." ....in most cases I would say you are right. As I walk around most neighborhoods, I find myself confident that this drops are just the efforts of hard working A/C trying to make local apartments a cooler place to live. It's the shadier neighborhoods such as the underdeveloped Garment District that have me on pins and needles. One day while walking home, I received on my head what can only be described as at least a watercooler cup's worth of fluid come pouring on my head. Upon receipt of this delivery my first reaction was to touch it and smell it. Fortunately, I concluded that the scent of the fluid was neither bodily waste or toxic refuse. Other than that, I was not able to identify it. I'm not gonna lie, it really put a damper on my day. What was that fluid? Has my use of fluid bothered anyone else in the same way that it has bothered me? There's no resolution to this story, just watch out for that stuff...that's all I'm sayin.
WHY I'M AN ASSHOLE
Well this topic could really go on for sometime and I'm sure that people could contribute their own features. Despite this, I am going to focus on the fact I can't stop quoting Anchorman. Namely, the part of the movie where Mr. Burgandy informs Christina Applegate's character that he is, "kind of a big deal" and that "people know me". For some reason this tickles my fancy to no end and has been implemented into my unique form of verbal OCD where I can't stop saying it. It has made it to the point where upon meeting new people at parties and the like, it is really only a matter of time until I saddle up next to new persons' and inform them with a belch that "I'm kind of a big deal" while friends laugh uncomfortably and attempt to disguise involuntary cringing. I'm seeking help so that I will continue to be invited to functions and salvage my remaining relationships.
IF YOU WERE A PIE WHAT KIND OF PIE WOULD YOU BE? AND WHY?
It's a harder question to answer than you would think. Oh, sure you can shout out any 'ol pie, but its the 'why' that gets me every time.
SEAT OF THE SOUL
A friend of mine once gave me this book Seat of the Soul, upon the recommendation of another friend and while most of the principles make sense I find them a little too touchy feely for everyday applications. One of the points in the book outlined that reconnecting with nature is essential to the spiritual life of people. As a regular park walker, I've known this to be true for sometime. However, I just returned from doing a show in West Virginia [insert lack of teeth/in-breeding/Deliverence joke here] and it was remarkably refreshing. Our housing aptly named the Ridge was set in a ridge. Looking out my window I saw the rolling hills and mountains of West Virginia. It was truly remarkable. Almost every morning it rained and there is nothing like waking up to a gentle rain. There was also a rooster somewhere that would crow around 9am. I never figured out where that thing was, but I found it charming. It was a perfectly envigorating little break to relax in very picturesque surroundings. --You know actually I think that get in touch with nature thing was from Don't Sweat The Small Stuff: And it's all Small Stuff. Whatever, it was a refreshing couple of weeks.
MORE TO COME
Life has been very crazy over the past few months, but I am so happy to be here in the city surrounded by friends and to have such a supportive family. If I have learned anything recently it is always, always, always wear sunscreen:
One of the worst things for me is to be stuck in idle. I spend most of the week going crazy keeping busy. Then when the weekend comes, I find myself counting down the hours until the week starts again. It is really silly though because then the night before the week begins I have that feeling that I used to get the night before school started in elementary school. I heard a report on NPR a few months ago about the ways that people deal with this pre-week anxiety. Some of the suggestions included going to bed early or going out the night before the week begins. I don't know that either of those sound too appealing. I think I'll just go read a book. And the ramble continues....
The thing that I really love about the city is how quickly it moves. Yes, I know it is cliche so just shut your pie hole. I get so excited whenever I'm back. I spent all day hitting the streets seeing all the sights that I've missed. I gotta say though, as I sit here I've got shinsplints like nobodys biznizz.
I went to see Wicked last night. I got the rush tickets and had my little seat right there in the front row. Say what you will, I really enjoyed the show. I am a big fan of the grand spectacle and I was so happy to go and see a show that wasn't "irreverant." I was really taken back by the production. It just got me charged up. It really is a show that just washes over you sometimes that's all the more you want.
So next up for me is doing a Christmas show up in NH. It really is an ideal gig. First off, I get the opportunity to do the show with Jennie and anytime that we get a chance to work together makes the experience all the better. (It is three shows to date). Second my folks are up there and so I'll have the good fortune to spend Christmas with the family. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, my brother, who spent the past 4 months in Iraq will be home. Pretty great deal.
So that's all for this bloggin' day. I want to thank Kate for giving me a shout out from my first blog. I'd love to hear from people. Do people really read this shit anyway? Let me know. Are these blogs just for people who like the sounds of their own words? If that's the case, I'm guilty. Till next time....
My first day back in NYC after being either in Philly or St. Louis for several months. It seems fitting that this is also my first blog entry. I've had quite the busy travel time these past few days. Flying out of St. Louis at 4:30 in the morning, only to come home drop off my luggage, repack and head on to Philadelphia to be Jennie's arm candy for the Barrymore Awards for Excellence in Theatre last night. The highlight of this evening was definately the party that boasted open bars and several feeding stations. Ah, good times.... I'm exceedingly happy to be sleeping in my own bed with my new Kmart bedding (Damn, that Martha Stewart makes a mean sheet set!) And thus begins my blogging experience. Feel free to comment. However, if you say mean things I'll hunt you down and cut you... oh, I'll cut you.... arg!
