MY WORLD:
I’ve fallen into this routine when I write these blog posts (aka yet-to-be-truly-discovered-voice-of-a-generation-masterpieces) where I listen to the same three songs as I start to write. From Dave Matthews Band’s Live Trax Vol. 6: Fenway Park, I listen to “The Idea of You”, “Grey Street” and “Bartender”. From there, I’ll usually drift into some cool underground artist that you probably haven’t even heard of so, like, don’t even try (Oh…you HAVE heard of Sia?) Between these songs and the lingering pot smoke I detected on my morning walk with Belle (of course I immediately called the Police), I was reminded of the day I realized that I couldn’t smoke pot anymore; the last time I went to a Dave Matthews Band concert.
I’m going to say it was the Summer of 2013 because 2011-2015 is basically the same to me now, and I don’t remember exactly and I don’t want to look it up so…SUMMER OF 2013! My brother Matthew, my roommate Dave and myself bought tickets to see DMB at Alpine Valley, a little Wisconsin farm town a couple hours outside of Chicago. Yes, I did realize I was seeing Dave Matthews Band with guys named Dave and Matthew and, yes, I did bring this up at least 19 times throughout the day.
My brother met Dave and I at our apartment for the pre-concert pump-up session that is needed before any big show. This PCPU (pre-concert pump-up…come on, keep up) consisted of playing Dave Matthews Band songs LOUD while drinking beers and going through what songs we NEEDED to hear at the concert later. (I love how during every PCPU, you’ll say something about how disappointed you’ll be if they don’t play a certain song and then you feel the need to KEEP BRINGING IT UP to the people around you during the show. Nobody cares. Let’s not do that anymore.) After a few beers and shots (oh my god guys, shots?) it was time for us to make our way to the meet-up where shuttle buses were taking people from Chicago to Alpine Valley.
I know people paint the picture of typical DMB fans wearing cargo shorts, and pookah shell necklaces, and, I don’t know, other sweet-ass shit, but I never notice that. And I didn’t this time as we waited with the cargo-shorts wearing masses to get on the buses. Whenever I’ve gone to a Dave show I just notice that everyone around me is pretty nice and excited. (Suck it hipsters.) So while I would love to recount some “you wouldn’t believe how bro-ey these bros were”-stories, I just remember people being nice and excited. (Make something up Jimmy! This is boring!) As we got on the bus, however, I do remember IMMEDIATELY panicking that there was no way I was getting out of smoking weed today.
Right after college, I got pretty good with weed. I could wake and bake and do fun stuff like go swing on the swings at a park where I was the only person above the age of 7 (ya know, fun-not-creepy-at-all stuff like that!) I worked in a restaurant, had a good relationship with a dealer and really enjoyed getting stoned to watch movies. But I lived alone, and that meant getting stoned alone far too often…which leads to solo freak outs in the dark. (Tonight’s plan? Get home. Smoke. Eat an entire bag of Tostitos with queso. Freak out about my future in bed. CAN’T WAIT!) After one too many of those “I’m an absolute failure in life forever”-freakouts, I swore off the sneaky smokey treat.
But then I’m sitting on a bus surrounded by nice, excited people, no! Friends! WE WERE ALL FRIENDS ON THAT BUS! Sitting in thin clouds of pot smoke, I was thinking “I mean, all my friends on this bus seem to be handling marijuana quite well. Frankly, they seem to be enjoying themselves QUITE a bit! Therefore, I have decided that I am cured of my weed-freakouts and will, again, partake in that sneaky smokey treat.” Actually, it was much more out of a fear of being labeled as a lame-o that I told Dave and Matthew that I’d smoke with them when we got off the bus.
Dave and Matthew acted excited about me agreeing to smoke with them. That is because they had never had a front-row seat to my weed freakouts. Ignorance is bliss, friends. We arrived at Alpine, got off the bus and snuck behind…well, we didn’t really have to hide because everybody in that world was smoking weed. So Dave pulled out his bowl and I took a hit. It wasn’t a massive coughing-fit hit, but I held it in like a pro and gave a pretty dope head nod to my brother Matthew as if to say “Y’all know me, still the same old G.” I was cool weed guy for, approximately, the next 8 seconds. Then I made Dave give me his sunglasses and got REAL quiet. (Oh no…Jimmy Freakout has entered the building!)
As we made our way to the lawn area, I made my way into my brain to begin the weed freakout in public routine. Paranoid about my heart racing, I decided a beer would help slow it down. WRONGO! It was dusk and I was keeping these stolen sunglasses over my eyes like my life depended on it. Seriously, if Dave took those sunglasses back, my body would have eyes would have melted and my body would have exploded and my Mom would have been all “I can’t believe my son exploded from weed!” Dave and Matthew seemed to be doing okay, but we were all quiet.
Dave ran into people he knew and introduced me in my sunglasses-in-the-dark self to them. I was thankful to Dave for this because when you’re stoned to the point of almost crying, meeting a complete stranger is EXACTLY what you want to do. (Hello, my name is Name. Good to name you. Name!) The show began and my symptoms only grew. Why was it so fucking loud?!?! I was positive that everyone around me was talking about why I was wearing sunglasses in the pitch black. (Because I’m scared! Okay? I’m so scared!) I tried to get into the music, threw a few fake “I’m having fun”-smiles at Dave and Matthew and attempted to kinda dance. I’m sure it looked more like an adult with cryface who was having a mild seizure. I absolutely needed a really firm hug from someone telling me “it’s going to be okay”…and I really had to pee.
Like, I really really really had to go pee, but it was dark and super crowded. I thought if I tried to make my way to the bathroom, that I’d never be able to find Dave and Matthew again when I came back. My brain evaluating the future = I’d search frantically for my sweet brother and brave roommate only to realize that they had already gotten on the bus back to Chicago…and I didn’t know anyone else there…and I would die alone in the lawn pavilion amidst concert debris at Alpine Valley. Hold it or die was my choice. I saw a guy near me pee into a bottle and I was very jealous of his pee-courage. I looked down at a water bottle near me, but it was too crowded and people were definitely looking at me like “don’t even think about pissing in that bottle near me.” Like, at one point I leaned down to maybe grab the empty bottle and I’m pretty sure a guy pointed a machine-gun at me and said “not another move.”
Whether he just sensed me nearing a heart attack or actually heard me mutter “help!”, Dave came to the rescue. He had to go to the bathroom, did I want to go? I LOVE YOU DAVE! Thing is, Dave is a very fast, aggressive walker and he took off like he was in a race. I did the half-jog-half-I-cant-walk-this-fast-naturally thing to keep up. He stormed through the crowd in a way that I can only describe as magnificent. Keeping up with this magnificent storm was difficult and so I did what any self-respecting adult male would do. I jogged to get real close to him and grabbed his hand when he swung it back. Like a little brother holding on for dear life was me clutching onto Dave’s paw. (I’m not dying in Alpine tonight!)
Post-pee (oh yeah, I kept an eye on where Dave was the entire time we were in the bathroom) we met outside the bathroom. Now, I don’t know if this next part is completely true, but it’s how I remember it…Dave looked at me and I looked at Dave the way a dog looks at it’s owner walking out of the door with a suitcase. (Don’t leave me). And Dave extended his hand. I will never be more excited to hold hands with anyone ever again. He led me back to our lawn area like a true gentleman. When I got back, my brother Matthew said “Jesus, this weed is freaking me out.” THANK GOD! I’M NOT ALONE!!! WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER!!!
The rest of the concert consisted of all of us talking over the music about how bad we were handling the weed. It was comforting, but still scary because we were all still kinda stoned. We chugged water and gatorade and didn’t listen to the show because all that mattered was getting back to sober. Ever have that feeling? Like, you would DO ANYTHING to just get back to zero on the effed-up scale? I would’ve taken a punch from Godzilla if that would have sobered me up.
That was the last time I smoked weed (basically). And here we are 5ish years later and guess who is going to the June 30 Dave Matthews Band concert? Me, Dave and Matthew. I hear CBD is pretty chill.
OUR WORLD:
With our sports teams dying on the vine and weather that is still shitty enough to justify staying inside FOREVER, I figured I’d help you out by reviewing the movies currently playing at the theater near my apartment. (Movie date? Movie date!) Now, I have not seen all these movies, but I will review them anyway and not tell you whether I saw it or not. Think of it as a fun guessing game.
The Shape of Water: Not as good as you want it to be. Get ready to look at your date a few times to make sure if they’re okay with fish sex. Michael Shannon is cool. Jimmy Rating = “Good, ya’ know, not great. Good though.”
7 Days in Entebbe: More like 7 Days in NOTHANKYOUtebbe (sick burn Jimbo!) Do you like seeing movies with actors you’ve never heard of about a thing you never knew happened? Well actually, sometimes I do because then I can talk about it like “I can’t believe you haven’t heard of the 1976 Air France hijacking!” This movie is no bueno, but it allows you to sound smarter than your friends. Jimmy Rating = “Even though it wasn’t very good, I know more than you because I saw this movie.”
A Wrinkle in Time: Oprah, magic and people whispering “this isn’t as good as the book.” I didn’t read this book and I don’t appreciate everyone making me feel like a dummy for that. Jimmy Rating = “Nah, I’m good.”
The Death of Stalin: I supported Stalin dying, so I support this movie. Jimmy Rating = “You don’t?”
Thoroughbreds: A couple girls try to kill a mean dad and then a skinny guy who kinda looks like Elijah Wood (but isn’t Elijah Wood) shows up to thwart their plan. Don’t hate the plot, but it is hard to get over the “I’m just not sure that isn’t Elijah Wood” whisper-fight you’ll get into with your date during this movie. Jimmy Rating = “IT’S NOT ELIJAH WOOD!”
Red Sparrow: Jennifer Lawrence as a sexy, ass-kicking spy with a bad haircut. Sounds like a winner until you realize that no one has talked about his movie since it came out like 3 weeks ago. That can’t be a good sign. Jimmy Rating = “Maybe in 18 months when the VP of Ops is out of town and I’m drunk and there’s nothing else on demand.”
Annihilation: Weird, artsy sci-fi where Natalie Portman looks to the sky a lot and the people around her tell her to “get back!” It’s good, but you won’t get it because you don’t like art, so just skip it and watch another episode of Spongebob. Jimmy Rating = “You just don’t get it.”
LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:
The time you realized you’re not good at drugs. (Sigh…)
MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:
I didn’t gamble last night and I really wanted to. I even sent out a trial balloon text to my gambling crew about putting some money on the Blazers (+4.5). No response = no bet…and then the Blazers lost by 4 AND WE WOULD’VE WON! DAMNIT! Back to gambling tonight because I am done with zero action nights. Put the mortgage on Cavs (-1.5) over the Raptors.
(My account currently at $28.21)
K bye.
Jimmy's Chair 