Friday, July 06, 2007

This Week in Gleemonex History

Ten years ago this week I was on my way to London for a summer semester of grad work in my university’s British Studies program. Six credits’ worth of pub-crawling, reading, museum-going, jaunts to Paris and Edinburgh, running along the Thames, and missing Mr. Gleemonex terribly. [Waves hi! to Tish, Zeke, and Chuck -- hell of a summer we kids had, eh?]

Twenty-seven years ago this week, inspired by the weatherman’s bitching about the record number of 100+-degree days so far this summer -- but definitely at my dad’s instigation -- I was attempting to fry an egg on the concrete of the carport at the side of our house. It had cooked up a fair bit by the time the cats got to it.

Three years ago today was my first day at my current employer, and we still had unopened boxes in the living room of the windswept house on the edge of the continent from our move out of North Beach. (I, uh, got a tie tack with the number "3" on it in interoffice mail, commemorating this work-anniversary. So there's that, hey.)

Sixteen years ago Wednesday I was on the Mall in Washington, D.C., with a bunch of my fellow Congressional pages (plus somebody’s crushariffic friend, Christian Fletcher) at the end of our term, scarfing picnic food and listening to Cab Calloway, then watching the fireworks.

One year ago Wednesday, all of our friends were over for a second full day of BBQ-ing, beer drinking, bocce, safe ‘n lame fireworks lighting, and, once it got dark, damn near getting in trouble with the law down on the beach with our kickass Missouri-boughten Real fireworks.

Fourteen years ago this week, I was working extra time at the
cantina-that-wasn’t, because I had taken the entire next week off for Mr. Gleemonex’s first visit to the Great State of Texass.

Twenty-two years ago this week, I was down in South Padre Island with the fam (plus Kevin and the late Sergio) on perhaps our greatest trip there, eating shrimp till we couldn’t eat no more, getting sunburned, staying on the beach for like 10 hours a day, and shooting massive fireworks into the Gulf of Mexico on the night of the Fourth.

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2 Comments:

Anonymous have you recycled today? said...

And really, what is the deal with the silver commemorative tie tacks? Like I'll ever wear the "one" or the "three." Gimme more money, honey! Then, I'll feel celebratory!

4:19 PM  
Blogger Gleemonex said...

Dude, seriously. And I don't wear ties. Money talks, y'all.

8:50 AM  

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