Sunday, July 24, 2011

The Morning After

First let me say, I am wrting this while listening to the soundtrack from the movie Every which but loose...Do yourself a favor and check it out on youtube sometime...Now, to the subject at hand. I love the morning after a good night out with friends. It is probally the same for most of the people who will read this, telling stories from the night before and filling in the missing pieces. I had one of those nights last night...sort of. Now I would like to go on record with this statement...I am the most blessed man in the world. How?, you may ask, well because I have the most amazing people in my life right now. Everyone needs a good support group, and I have the best.  Truly beautiful people inside and out, but as I listened to stories from last night, and added the ones I had to offer, it took me back to another time in my life.
The ages 19-27 in my life were my "Clubbing" days. My favorites were the "New Hope Weekends" those nights made the best morning afters.  The nights always began at my aunt Flo and Uncles Rays house. After eating too much of whatever Flo cooked (shes an amazing cook) we would sort of lay around or maybe ride into town with Uncle Ray (most of the time our destination was the beer/liquor store.) Around 6 or so the showers would begin, then one by one we waited our turn, and as soon as we got dressed, it was time for some "8 o'clock shots" ( a ritual that was supposed to help us not spend so much money at the bar, because in theory, we would have enough of a buzz that it wouldn't take much to finish us off, but we usually just got that much drunker and spent that much more money) then it was off to the bar around 9:00. We never knew how the night was going to unfold, pretty women..ugly women...fight..not fight..too much dancing or just laughing at all the idiots.. no matter what you could be guaranteed two things...the fact that next morning someone would either be sick... be broke...or so broke they got sick..and whoever the last person sleeping... was getting his ass jumped on by the others! The stories would begin after the inevitable question that always gets asked after a good night out... "what happened?" As more info was divulged, the laughter got louder, jokes got cracked and an all out assault to the tune of "Man, I cant wait to tell everyone about this" ( this is a big reason why you didnt want to be that guy.) We would share the story with anyone that listened, even if they were there and saw it themselves, you still felt the need to give them your version of the nights events as you saw them, just in case they were drunker than you. And so the morning after and usually the whole day itself was spent recanting the previous night. These tales would be told on many more occassions for many years to come, mostly to people who have heard them a hundred times or more, but are always willing to listen again, for this is one way of preserving time. So I sat idly by today and listened to a story or two from my night out last night, just nodding and smiling and all the while knowing the reality in fact that I really dont drink when I'm out on the town. (I have about a 2 beer limit, unless its a special occasion). It isn't the same for me anymore, I'm not trying to "hook up" (although I am down for the get down and my shit still works so you know, call me) I'm not looking to be the center of attention and I'm sure not looking to start trouble... I am, simply taking it in. Just as I did today, because what these guys dont understand is the stories keep alive a memory and a memory allows us to travel back in time, to a time when we worked for the weekend and didn't put a certain importance on the important things and life was just a little easier. So I encourage them to tell the stories, share the laughter and take the ribbing, because this, is what its all about...Me and my Pals, we Loved the Nights....but we Lived for The Morning After, at least thats how I see it from where I'm know, my view from the chair...Til next...Peace...Love...Happiness

No comments:

Post a Comment