It’s Saturday and I am in the heart of another three day weekend. You know, if my job didn’t suck as much as it does, I think I would get more enjoyment out of this whole four day work week thing. As things stand, however, I spend my weekends living on fear of Tuesday (which is my Monday, in case you’re new to this site).
My roommate just left for Cincinnati. I told him that a bunch of us were planning to hit the Saturday evening church service and then maybe head out to a bar or a restaurant. Or maybe to somebody’s house where we can all partake in the alcoholic goodness of the Wild Turkey gold I purchased last evening.
Or maybe we’ll retreat to our homes and be lame. Who knows?
At any rate, church starts in three hours. I think I might try to head off for a walk around the neighborhood, because the weather this afternoon has that cool hint of autumn in the air, and the leaves on the trees are just beginning to dry out. The official date is still a week away, but for me, it starts today - fall, that is - and I am more than ready. I’ve been waiting for Fall since the dawn of time and now it is here. It’s like Christmas morning and Halloween and your birthday and Labor Day all rolled up into one.
And in this case, Labor Day and Christmas accentuate autumn on both ends, more or less, with my birthday smack dab in the middle right next to Halloween. It’s an orgy of holidays, one right after the other, and when its all over I’m left stranded for nine months, wondering why all the life went out of life and why the trees no longer dance their colored limbs across the sky.
But there’s no need to worry about the end and the onset of another terrible, depressive winter when fall is looking us directly in the face, taunting us, yelling at us to give chase and do our worst. Fall is the time of Harvest. Fall is the time of death. Fall is the time when all your debts are called in, when the wind blows through the tress like a madman and when the world changes colors right before your very eyes.
Acid Freaks feel most comfortable in the Fall. And so do I.
I spoke with President Bush the other day, and he told me that he’s a big fan of Fall as well. “I love it!” he screamed at me. “It’s like Armageddon. It’s like the end of the world. People are so obsessed with sports and school and holidays and fun that they don’t pay attention to what’s going on the world. That’s when you got ‘em. That’s when you can do anything.”
The bastard was right. Like an all-encompassing Bacchus festival, nobody pays attention to anything or anyone but themselves once the weather goes cold and the colors melt. Rampant selfishness and senseless debauchery rule the day as we await the frozen loneliness of Ohio’s mad winter.
Demons run through the streets with reckless abandon, killing, raping and pillaging with a passion unequaled in the annals of human history. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, bad craziness has returned. Its time for another year of death, dismemberment and senseless debauchery. So put on your plastic faces, grab a bottle of whiskey, and light something on fire.
Fall is here and the world is about to end. You might as well enjoy it.