2002-04-30 - 3:14 p.m.

Ah shit.

Well, you know, it had to happen sometime. And it still hasn't yet, but the realization that The Simpsons is mortal is still kinda bumming me out.

Better news is my weekend in Detroit. Friday I came into town on four hours of sleep after waking up at about 4:20am to catch a 6:40 flight from LGA. Good thing I remembered to use my Herbal Essences, but after that I had nothing left to shampoo over to Detroit (nor would I have risked it). So the flight warn't even that bad. Even got in fifteen minutes early.

My parents and I then went out for brex at some diner in Dearborn. Came back home, woke up the soon-to-graduate brother in bed and let him drift back to sleep. Shaved my dome and took a shower, and by that point it would have been pointless to nap. Instead I played table tennis with my dad in the garage attic. Yes, my garage at home has an attic. It could be servant's quarters, I guess, what with its woodburning stove and all. All we've got up there is a ping-pong table, a fireplace, said stove, a desk for matting paintings, a couple old stereos that no one uses (including one with high-speed dubbing and another with an 89X sticker and some Simpsons puffy stickers, plus In Utero in the tape player), lots of my dad's old paintings, several old wood boxes that used to hold seltzer bottles (according to the painted label on the side), a bunch of Smithsonians from the late '80s and early '90s, and the poster and rules for our old Silver Axez club (rule #4: "You must clean up after meetings"). I guess that's a considerable amount of junk, actually.

Anyway, I beat my dad both games we played. Which says more about his willingness to gamble on risky shots than my skill.

Then Joe(good) got up early to call me and we rounded up a posse to get lunch at the International Center at Wayne State. Woke up Kevin again, Joe drove us downtown, and we picked up Matt Z. (the Gooser). Matt offered me a cup of coffee and a saucer as he climbed into the car. I accepted. I was going to need it.

Concerned about whether I was locking my door or not (the Saturn has no auto locks), Joe got distracted and locked the keys in the car. With the car running. Took a bit of convincing, but we got Joe to run with us down into the cafe before it closed for the afternoon as his Saturn puttered in place nice and safely locked on the street that borders the DIA to the north.

Lils met up with us and used his student status to get campus security to come out and jimmy the car open. Even had some gas left in it by the time the lock popped open. (Gooser had almost gypsied the thing open with a coat hanger.)

Then we decided to hit Lils' place in Berkley and drink whiskey and watch old tapes of the WWF (most notably, Wrestlemanias I and III). We decided that we have to appropriate the Hulkster's bizarre monologs for some sort of creative endeavor. We also noticed how Hulk talked considerably more jive in his earlier days.

Next was dinner with my parents. In another country. All right, so schlepping across the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor for dinner isn't much of a pilgrimage. But still. It makes for a good story element. Kevin spotted a Delorean on the street in Windsor.

Back in the USA, I tried to disco-nap it for a minute, but I never really fell asleep. But I felt better. We got ourselves together and picked up Joe and Ann for the trip to Ann Arbor. The occasion? Kevin's house (pretty much the rocknroll Ann Arbor party house, far as I can reckon) was having a party, not that he had much to do with the planning. We rolled up to Ann Arbor driving all slow listening to my Wu-Tang mix (mentioned several times already, I think).

The party was cool. Highlights for me were catching up with all those folks (and by "all those folks," I mean everyone I know who still lives in Ann Arbor), and listening to Sandinista! in Kevin's room. More than once, someone came in and asked who was on the stere-ereo and was baffled by the answer. "This is the Clash?!?" I think one person came back for more astonishment. "This is still the Clash?!?"

At about 3am Lils showed up. At four, we decided to drive home. For real this time. Since I'd had one and a half beers, that job fell on my shoulders. Twenty-four hours awake. Pretty active day.

Next day we dressed and went to Kevin's Residential College graduation (back to Ann Arbor, natch). It was somewhat more interesting than RC graduation two years ago, but not by much. Everyone still talked and most people still gave only the requisite shout-out to the rentals and sat back down. But Adam A. gave me a nod and in his speech I couldn't find him afterwards to thank him. Steve made the best speech, probably.

Later that night we hung out at Matt Z.'s apartment and Dante and Colin showed up in addition to our Friday crew. We hung out at the Third Street Saloon and paid $3 cover to "watch" this band that we dubbed Soulhammer. If you saw Ghost World and remember Blueshammer, you can picture Soulhammer and their sound. But really, we watched Maximum Exposure, this slightly left-wing (amazingly) shock show that features footage from the bloodiest riots around the globe and a wisecrackin' narrator. Bizarre. I can't believe I'd never heard of it before.

Then we headed over to the Majestic to meet up with Emily Lee. Also ran into Frank of Gramercy Riffs fame (no, he wasn't an extra in The Warriors), and caught the tail end of a Dictators show upstairs in which the band covered "Sonic Reducer." Then back to Joe's house to join John in a screening of Tomcats. I lasted about a half hour before I begged for mercy and a ride home.

Sunday I finally got some sleep in me. Sat around and read the Times and watched the Mavericks, listened to the Mescaleros and Saturday Looks Good to Me. Then we headed over to the Cass Cafe for Kevin's graduation party up in the loft. Tried my best to talk to everyone there. Think I accomplished that rather weighty task. Lauren and Neil even broke free from wedding-weekend obligations to stop by. Finally, everybody got to party with Neil.

After the party the kids reconvened at Small's in Hamtramck (Hammytrammy, I like to call it) and played the jukebox, played pool, all that. Went home, slept, woke up at 4am to make my 6:30 am flight. What a weekend.