Since I am not the type that feels particularly sentimental about the past year, the year I got grayer, flabbier, ditched, and officially arthritic, I welcome moving forward albeit a bit more like the Little Old Lady from Pasadena than Jagger. My first text of 2013 was a few lines of heartfelt verse sent in the afternoon on New Year’s Day to one of the stars in my posse, my trusted confidant, Coco.
Me (text): Are you up and not too hung over? If so, can you get me a pair of six eyelet black shoelaces at the Converse store in your ‘hood for my black Jack Purcells? I’ll pay you back tmr. Thanks and Happy New Year.
Adhering to the topic like Teflon she responds:
Coco (text): Hugh Hefner is married and Kim Kardashian is preggers. Fuck. The Mayans have won.
I then venture outside, not for shoelaces, but for a bagel knot at my anything but super, market, Fairway.
Poppy seed bagel knot.
There, I predictably encounter my first asshole of 2013. I bestow this honor on the father that surely left his brain cells at home in a small pile behind the coffee grinder. He is accompanying his energetic eight or nine-year-old daughter. She is riding a scooter inside the store as if she is going for a world record in indoor scootering. Possibly he is just too wasted from New Year’s Eve celebrating to notice that his spawn is burning rubber and has narrowly missed slicing off the toes on my right foot. He is also blind to the steam heat that I pack in my head that’s firing directly out of my ears in billowing puffs of smoke.
Once outside again I am pounding the pavement leading back to my sanctum sanctorum when I come across the first littered movie stub on the sidewalk. I am certain that this is not the first littered movie stub in all of New York City in 2013, but this is the first one that catches my eye. It is lying face down, so I cannot see what film the movie going litterbug saw. After kicking at it for the better part of fifteen seconds or possibly fifteen minutes, time is so hard to measure when relying on cloud cover, I decide to risk contracting Onychomycosis. I am aware that rare side effects of treatment for this nail disease can lead to liver failure, and if I get that, very likely I will have a one-way ticket to the big dirt nap. Please do not send flowers; plant a tree someplace in my memory, and call that tree Inga. I have always wanted to get horizontal, vertical, perpendicular, trapezoidal, and truth be told every position Spirograph-ical, with a free spirited naked woman with that name, but preferably someone full figured, yet not scary-fat, more Bettie Page-like, but I digress.
As a daring and brave worrier (sic or sick take your pick), I flip over the ticket stub with my bare fingers and see that the film is Barbara, a drama from Germany that was their official selection for the 2013 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Even though it fell short of the Academy’s shortlist, my pal, Milton, has seen it and has praised it effusively. It is likely that I will never see this film because it’s not a feature that screens for seven shekels before noon at the multiplex.
Yes, screenings of “Barbara” cost thirteen clams here in the Big Apple.
By the time Barbara hits TV, probably cable stations, IFC or the Sundance Channel, I will have long forgotten that I once wanted to see it. I frankly prefer to invest precious and fleeting middle aged memory space in fantasizing about free spirited naked women named Barbara desiring me. Oops, I mean free spirited naked women named Ingrid. Inez? How about someone named Ida, or maybe even Idaho? At this point, I’ll even settle for a woman in a burka named Dan as long as her vagina is not dry as dust and her natural fragrance is not that redolent of salmon. I do have standards. Anyone offering?
Continuing on my trek, across the street from my brownstone I see the unusual sight of a muscle car from my long evaporated youth, a two door 1968 Buick Skylark. “Cool beans,” I don’t think since I’d sooner mainline Liquid Plumr than use that expression. I photograph it avidly figuring that I may never see this vintage of vehicle ever again. Since it is as intriguing as it is eye sore-ish, there is the distinct possibility that it will hog space on my block long after the sheen on this New Year fades and 2013 is as dull as that forty-five-year-old jalopy’s paint.
Buick Skylark – road hog circa 1968.
Lame Adventures 
oooh welcome back LA. This was a spectacular funny — laugh out loud read as I sit at my desk getting read to embrace the miserable f–cking day. I thank you for this, profusely. (why don’t we say cool beans more?)
and PS
You live in NYC.. there MUST be an Inga, Ida, Barbara or Inez.. somewhere?
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Glad you were amused Audra. “Cool beans” has never been in my vocabulary but a great guy I used to work with in another life used to say it all the time. That was the only thing about him that irked me.
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Happy Friggin’ New Year. Sorry, but I don’t have anyone in mind for you at the moment–named Inga, Inez, or Ida or otherwise.
Glad to see it’s only $13 to see a film in NYC. Had to shell out $11.75 to see Silver Lining Playbook on Christmas with my family. I got votes down on the new Tarantino oeuvre. My son saw it and thought it was well worth the price.
Salmon, huh? Gotta think about that one for a few weeks.
I have a tshirt from my home a way from home on LBI procured at a coffee shop names Cool Beans. I’d never heard that expression until I moves to NJ in 1989. I have to confess I use it myself. Guess it borders on my other happy phrase of assent I picked up from D1–yepper doodles. The Bride hates it and I guess it does make me sound sorta gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… (first and possibly not last Seinfeld reference of 2013…yea I know you’re not a friend of Jerry, but you are a friend of Dorothy)
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Yes, I do know how to write in the preterite. Please consider them my first (of many) set of iPhuckups of the new year. Why is the “s” so damned close to the “d” anyway?
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I could never understand why the QWERTY keyboard is the QWERTY keyboard, but I’m sure the answer could be found in a two second Google search. I prefer to think that the keyboard is the way it is because some lazy ass spilled the keys all over the place and decided, “This works.”
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Happy Friggin’ New Year right back at ya, Mike. I think Cool Beans works best as a tee shirt. If my niece, Sweet Pea, used the expression, “Yepper doodles,” I’d disinherit her. I’m funny that way.
For the record, I don’t dislike Jerry because I rarely watched Seinfeld. I hate network TV because I hate TV commercials. Before my salary faded into the abyss, I subscribed to HBO primarily because of my love of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
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Happy New Year … and congrats on getting the first 2013 asshole out of the way – after all, I haven’t been so lucky!
We’re mainstream movie goers, and the holiday is usually hit the theater more than once … so it was Argo, Lincoln, and Guilt Trip for us.
Oh well .. movin’ on … enjoy your day!
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My dear Frank, I’ll break it to you gently, your lack of encountering an asshole luck will soon run out. You live in the US making that as inevitable as death, taxes, and middle age weight gain.
I wanted to see Argo, but I missed it when it was playing at my seven shekels before noon multiplex. I blame My Manhattan Project.
Enjoy your day, too!
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I did have a brief encounter with a wondering clueless soul, but I was on full alert … even went to the grocery without any encounters. Maybe I should become a recluse.
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If you go reclusive, Frank, that might interfere with your handbell practicing, ballroom dancing and golfing. It’s not like you can phone that stuff in.
Shopping at my grocery store, Fairway, should entitle one to combat pay.
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LOL … and touche!
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Just saw this and thought about our conversation. 😀
http://tinyurl.com/ah6wtod
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Excellent Frank! Thanks for sharing. I have actually flown with that guy. He sat behind me on a cross country flight in June 2010 and complained the entire time. Every time he’d get up, which was frequently, he’d grab my seat and pull it back so forcefully that when he’d finally let go I thought I’d rocket launch up the aisle until slamming into the cockpit door. I finally caught on and buckled up for the rest of the flight. Good times.
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Figured you would appreciate it. Oh the clueless of the world!
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Part of me would love it if the clueless would just all go away — move to Borat’s Kazakhstan, but if that did happen, what would I write about?
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Happy New Year! I’m so happy to have you back. I’m sitting here feeling very reluctant about going back to work this morning. I feel a huge dose of cranky coming at me. I avoided assholes yesterday by not going anywhere. Today, I have little choice.
As far as Hefner and that K person: Even the Mayan thing is too good for them. They’d be left behind because no universe could put up with their desperate pursuit for media celebrity.
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Happy New Year to you, too, SDS! I didn’t wake up cranky this morning but I was sleepy. Fortunately, I don’t work with assholes, but I do ride the subway with them, even though everyone behaved courteously today. Now that I’ve said that, I’ve probably spoken prematurely and I will encounter The Grand Wizard of Assholes on the commute home.
Spot on summation about H and K and the Mayan Apocalypse!
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Thanks for this,oh… and reminding me that I have to go outside today.
The first to step on my toes, with or without spawn may get a steam blast enough to scramble whatever little gray matter they deemed sufficient to bring along…
Great writing!
R.
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Thanks R and Happy New Year, pal! There are days when all I want to do is burrow and not leave my hovel — my secret to how I manage to stay white as chalk.
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My first car was a 1969 two door Pontiac Lemans with a 350 engine. The styling was very similar to Buick (of course all the GM cars of that era looked somewhat alike). Brought back memories. Thanks for sharing your first Lame Adventure of the New Year, V. Now that I’m mostly over the flu, I’m going to work today…
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Back in the day, my sister, Dovima, dated a guy that drove a red ’67 LeMans with a black vinyl roof. I think it was powered with an airplane engine.
So sorry to hear that you’ve been ill with the flu! Did you get a shot? I don’t due to my germ warfare paranoia. I’m glad that you’re mostly recovered. What a crummy way to ring in the New Year Cathy.
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I see a pattern here—bagel, Barbara, Buick, brownstone and beans. Happy Freakin’ New Year LameO! Be very careful of Ingas—I knew a Michele but her “real name” was Elke. Just FYI. You can’t be sure anymore, ya know? Ask to see some ID ’cause what if her real name is Irving or Isadore? You see where I’m going with this…it could get messy.
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Happy Freakin’ New Year back at you, TTT! Gee, now that you’ve made me so confused about who I should date, I’m thinking about adding chromosome testing to my standards since requsting, “Let me see you naked first and then let me get to know your mind later,” might be misinterpreted.
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I’m about 99% certain you can readily find a woman named Dan wearing a burka online. Specifically, Craigslist. You two may not be guaranteed happiness, but you will thoroughly confuse the rest of us as you walk arm in arm. Or if one of you is carrying the other like a back pack.
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HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for my second excellent laugh of 2013 Mike! Coco got there first.
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I hate Coco.
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She has a message for you: “Hiss!”
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I have a message for her: “Don’t hurt me.”
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Coco has a message for you: “If I meet you I’ll leave my whip at home.”
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Coco’s like Indiana Jones! Cool!
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Not really. Snakes are scared of her.
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Great to hear from you today! Wish I could help you with your full-figured woman in a burka. Sara actually owns a burka, but I’m afraid I’m not sharing–sharing her, that is. Hate to disappoint. We might be able to loan you the burka to use with the vagina of your choice though. Let me know if that will do the trick. Happy New Year, my friend. Gotta email you later with some news.
Hugs,
Kathy
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Now everyone, okay my six other loyal readers but they do mean the world to me, are wondering what your Top Secret email news must be about. Don’t hate me, but I’m revealing it here as a service to your peers: you’re sending me that burka postage due and I’m sending you a steaming mound of thanks.
Great to hear from you, too, Kathy!
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It seems that you have started the New Year with a healthy libido! Hahaha! Dan? Idaho?
Steeltoed boots should be a staple in NYC. That and rubber gloves.
Happy New Year!
Glad you are back.
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Sometimes the only things that work in this body is the libido and one of my opposable thumbs. Happy New Year to you, too, Susie!
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Um, happy new year?
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Happy New Year, no question about it, Judy.
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I wish I were as funny as you or as Calahan. I’m going to say Cool Beans for today. At least you went somewhere and saw something annoying. I have to settle for staying home and letting my kids annoy me there.
so glad you are back. really. mean it.
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Yes, our man Calahan did grace this post with quite a bull’s eye of wit, Maggie. You are allowed to say Cool Beans any time or day since you did motivate me to end my hiatus. Lucky for Derwood that you’re not named Inga, Barbara, Inez, Ida or Idaho, you clever vixen!
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Did I really? You can call me Al or Inga. Derwood’s best friend calls me Babs, I don’t know why.
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Possibly because he’s seen the film, Barbara?
You are my blogging life-coach, or maybe you just motivated me to get off the couch when you suggested it was time I end my hiatus and resume posting again. Actually, my hovel does not have a couch. I do almost everything on my massive bed, including filing for my taxes. Yes, I know, TMI.
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Where’s a Miss I-da-ho when you need one? Probably working a street corner in Montana. Why do those mountain states have all the fun?
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Huh, good point, Russell … Hill country here I come! … Or maybe I’ll just dine with Milton one day in Greenwich Village at Blue Hill restaurant.
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your writing is tight. I’m laughing with my coffee this morning. nice.
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That is quite the compliment from you BatPat considering that you’ve read almost every word I’ve written over the past 35 years and somehow we’ve remained tight!
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that bagel looks like a twisted peen.
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Thank you for sharing that profound insight, Jules. I will now proceed to never eat another bagel knot again for the remainder of my life.
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You’re welcome!
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Such twisting no doubt comes in handy for those gentlemen with bladder control issues. Not to mention a certain corner of the adult fetish film industry. Thanks for the imagery.
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It was my pleasure.
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I was afraid that’d be your response.
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Well, this is why I was put on Earth.
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You’re going to let Jules have the last word? How gallant, or maybe you’re home watching football.
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I hope I am not missing the upset of the year, but I don’t think you could pay me to watch the Gators and Louisville. Still basking in the late seconds heroics of USC (the first one) against Michigan yesterday. Go Cocks!
Which gets us back to Jules and the bagel knots. I really couldn’t come up with anything to top the retort–that that was the reason Jules was put on this earth. You cannot trump that sort of self awareness!!!
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So your strategy is to taunt Jules in a passive-aggressive way as I dig through cushions, bedding and look under the rug for spare change to finance a Barbara ticket.
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I succumbed to ennui or something like thy and switched on the game. Well I was missing Sid upset. Watching Cardinls tear the Gators a new one. Wooh!!!
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Glad you had such a productive second day in this New Year.
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Now I can start worrying about baby Kardashain-West or is it West-Kardashian? How can the good Lord let such a couple of narcissists procreate?
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Maybe there are times when even “the good Lord” is feeling snarky?
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Not that I blame KW from hitting that thing…we actually share a birthday and a taste for doe-eyed brunettes…but that kid will be doomed! Not financially, however.
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True. I doubt that they’re going to bring a future neurosurgeon into the world, but they might produce yet another neurotic.
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Warning: the bagel knot industry might be putting a hit on you now; something about force-feeding you honey.
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Ech! actually, I like bagel knots, but that particular one looked freaky.
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It was probably the camera angle. Too bad I ate it and cannot reshoot it to spare you more nightmares.
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I’ve recovered, but thanks for thinking of my well-being, dearest.
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Phew! That’s a relief! I can invest that fifty cents I’ve been saved from having to buy another bagel knot into purchasing either a Barbara ticket or a forty-five-year-old Buick Skylark.
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Maybe this is the year that Inga, er, Ina — Betty — well, someone really full-figured and fragrant crosses your path. Happy New Year!
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That’s encouraging, Sandee, but extreme types makes me nervous since I’m relatively little.
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Welcome back, LA! Happy New Year to you!
I’m pretty sure I worked with an Inga a few years ago… or maybe an Anka – things change (well mix up) in my mind over time! Not much help for you, though, as I haven’t seen her since 1999. Hope you got your laces!
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Happy New Year to you, too, Tom! The name Anka intrigues me, unless this person’s first name is actually Paul … Coco threw herself full bodied on the flaming pit of shoelace hunting for me at the Converse store only to discover that if I wanted a pair of black shoelaces, they’d only sell them with a new pair of shoes. They will soon be getting an email from me!
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For gawd’s sake, woman you are hilarious. “Dirt nap???!!!” I do hope you find your Babs or Ingrid or Inez and all her lady parts are to your liking. That would really be cool beans. (Oh and btw, I can top your scooter rider, we went into Walbaums and there were three or four young boys riding through the aisles on skateboards, rapidly and with much screaming. Yahoo 2013!!!)
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Just think, Brigitte, since I do believe some members of the human race are simply born stupid, in just a few short years those three boys will probably be behind the wheels of cars — and burning rubber through the aisles of Waldbaums.
Thank you for your support in my hunt for a curvaceous source of near heart attack-inducing affection.
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Dear God, I know what you mean, V. I try to think the best, but seriously where are their parents?!! If you and I could get together and have a drink, you’d find we have so much in common. 🙂
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Hm, Brig, having a drink with me might be dangerous, not because I’m as seductive as a rash … If we do have so much in common, that would surely knock the optimism out of you and probably make me feel pretty swell about myself!
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No, dear one, you are optimistic with a wicked twist. You rock, you do.
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Hey, don’t start rumors that I’m nice! Evil women wouldn’t date me anymore!
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V, I hope your find your perfect “evil” woman. 🙂 And yes, I know you’re nice but that’ll just stay between you and me.
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Deal!
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Onychomycosis is forever burned in my brain now. Please plant a tree in my honor and call it Ony.
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I’d say consider it done but I think it’s possible that planting a tree in NYC might require a building permit or a liquor license or something else complicated, so I’ve done the next best thing in your honor. I’ve flushed some pencil shavings down the drain.
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Happy New Year V! I wish you all the best for 2013.
And although I’m not “legally” available… 😉
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Happy New Year to you, too, Wendy! Thanks for the wink, you married lass, but we don’t want to break any laws now!
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Hilarious post!
Sent from my iPhone
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Thank you Milton. You will be pleased to know that I resisted photographing a pair of discarded Les Mis movie ticket stubs I saw on my way home from work last night. I will admit that for a nanosecond the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should photograph EVERY discarded movie ticket stub I see on New York streets this entire year and turn that into an LA. Remember that journal where I counted my every sneeze that I maintained for a year from spring 2010 until spring 2011? Then, a voice in my head that sounds remarkably like yours said, “That is so fuckin’ stupid. Please don’t.”
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I like the ticket stub idea. I have completed and saved every NYT crossword puzzle for last 10 months at my desk at work. We must continue to document the mundane in our lives. There is greatness in the task.
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It’s too late to pursue that project. I didn’t take that photo of the Les Mis stubs yesterday. I think Imaginary Milton might have the right idea, but I’ll run it by Real Milton when I see him tomorrow and report back to you.
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So that was a good start to the year, then.
At least the year has somewhere to go. If it had started euphoric the only way would be down. I figure, from here, the only way is up.
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I’d say it was a good start to the year Kate. The year starting neurotically feels like home to me.
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Happy New Year! I’m kind of salivating over here for that roll.
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Hey, Happy New Year to you, too, Emily! I could easily go on a year-long bagel knot binge, but I’m not into making resolutions.
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I too think that a voluptuous Barbara or Inga would be a good thing (I’m married, so I’m, y’know, talking ‘in theory’). Don’t stop believing!
When I hear that there’s a German film called Barbara, it makes me think of that line in “Night of the Living Dead,” only spoken with a kraut accent: “Zey’re coming to getchoo Bahbaruh.”
Also, should you get that nail fungus, try Vick’s vap-o-rub before you try the liver-killers. Seriously.
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Excellent German accent Smak!
I used to have a jar of Vick’s in my medicine cabinet but I replaced it with a tube of Boroleum, which I use for the relief of nasal soreness, whenever that heartbreak occurs. Maybe it can work double duty should I develop nail fungus?
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happy new year, kid! i’m playing catch-up ball since my return from lalaland. here’s to you and here’s to you finding ida, inez, idaho or just some nice girl who will make you smile! *said in my best old lady voice* ;~) cheers, sugarpie! xoxoxo
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Happy New Year back at you Savannah! Welcome home and thanks for looking out for me with the first name starting with the letter “i” ladies.
Finally, after all these years, I’ve figured out how to write a comment on your site. Blogger is such a mystery to me. It always rejects my comments when I use the WordPress feature, but this time I got smart and didn’t go through WordPress. Sorry that it’s taken me the better part of three years to figure that out …
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Hugh Hefner is married and Kim Kardashian is preggers. Fuck. The Mayans have won.- that’s a t-shirt right there. First time visiting. Edwin made me.
Very entertaining.
Sandi
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Glad to meet you Sandi and that Edwin’s so persuasive!
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As a resident of the NJ wing of Lame Adventureland (any exit will do, but 148 on the GSP is closest) I have to say Sandi’s comment is spot on and a wonderful addition to the mix. I think our LA woman should try to capitalize on some of the site’s gems and start marketing these witty Bon mots on tshirts at the next tag sale on the UWS.
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Thank you for your insights, Lame Adventure Director of Marketing.
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Confused by the comma. Are you the LADoM or have I been promoted from wingman status?
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The latter. You’re now wearing more hats for less pay. Welcome to my world.
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I feel a tad under the weather if this turns into the flu, I will spend my R&R scouring old posts for gems like Coco’s
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I often feel lousy at The Grind, but as soon as I step out the door and deeply inhale the Manhattan soot, I’m instantly rejuvenated. Hope what you have isn’t some genuine germy horror.
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Dude they got massive amount of kids riding scooters or with this roller-sneakers in stores over here all the time. It doesn’t have to be New Year’s and parents don’t need to be hung over to see this happen. It’s sad. And the Buick Skylark. Ha! Anytime anybody ever mentions that car I remember Marissa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny…She’s kills me in that movie.
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Ooops I meant Marisa.
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Guat, I completely forgot about that film — and their car! Good reference.
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