Singing it from the rooftops
Sometimes you have one of those days when there is absolutely nothing happening. You sit at home on your ass wondering why in the hell there isn’t anybody available or some fun to be had. You dream of finding something to do as you sit there being bummed out. Last night was not one of those nights.
I have a pretty close group of friends who I hang out with almost every weekend. The guys who stuck around the neighborhood instead of moving away or living in residence. Some of my favorite dudes in the world, but outside of that group of friends I don’t see as many people as I would like to. I thrive on social interaction, meeting new people and talking to them. Hearing their take on the world, their experiences and their attitudes. Last night I got to hang out with some people I may have seen once since High School, which is great. Other people I haven’t seen in five or more years.
Last night was pretty relaxed. People had some beers, sat
around listening to music and chatting with old friends. Then midnight hit, and
everyone climbed out of a second floor window and sat on the roof with an acoustic
guitar. Friendly acoustic sing-along’s under a clear moonlit sky. The Halifax Harbor dancing in the distance with the lights
of the city. Voices booming into the night over an otherwise dead neighborhood,
smiles had all around as we just enjoyed each others company.
Then we said our goodbyes to the hosts, piled six people into a car and drove home listening to Phil Anselmo sing sweet nothings in our ears. Cramped in the backseat with 3 other people but rocking out just the same. Stopped into the gas station to gas up and decided that we weren’t quite ready to call it a day yet. Rather than driving home we started blasting Acid Bath’s Pagan Terrorism tactics album (my favorite) and started down the dark twisty roads which lead to the beach. Too cold for the water, and too dark for much of anything but we pulled up to Lawrencetown beach regardless, got out and walked down the rocky sand until we were just beyond the reach of the waves. Just as we pulled up we had reached the part of the song Dead Girl which goes "The sound of the ocean is dead, its just the echo of the blood in your head. Sister, burn the temple and stand beneath the moon." It seemed so fitting. The only lights which were even visible were the stars, which always come out in full force that far away from the city. We just stood there watching the waves crash amongst themselves then rush towards us, each time making a little more progress. While the rest of the world was sleeping, I was standing on a beach with my favorite band stuck in my head, just being. Its the little things that count.
The night was so awesome that I almost forgot about the part where I saw cocaine in person for the first time, as it was on its way up a tube and into nostrils of some of my friends. It didn’t sadden me so much that they were doing it, just that I was having just as much fun, if not more, without such things. I wish there was some kind of secret I could share, or that people in their early 20's would believe that they can enjoy themselves without booze or pot or whatever else is around. Its all a matter of perspective I suppose.
On a related note, I just walked out on my back porch where my father was sitting on a chair in the sun with the dog lying in the shade beneath him as he sipped a beer and listened to the radio. I asked him "What's going on?" to which he replied "Nothing. Just enjoying life."
I think I know where I get it from.
