Why I'm Happy Now, also known as Stop Smiling, Damn Fool. Get ready for some action and strap on your Theme Caps, people. Get ready for the thrillingest, craziest, theme-iest ride of your lives, damn it! *ding!*

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I just had a 3 day weekend. Hell yeah! Thank you Labor Day!

Lindsay and I had a really great party for 8 of our closest friends on Saturday. I love my people! We grilled out -- yum! Drank -- some of us more than others (me, for instance!). It was a smashing success! Thanks to everyone for coming over!

... and that, good friend is why I'm happy now. *ding!*

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My best buddy Ross aka Unkie Ross has recently moved to the same city as me. Yes, that's right folks -- he moved up to Minneapolis! The big city! That is reason numero 2 as to why I'm happy now *ding!*

So, now, whenever we want to see each other, hang out, play basketball, whatever -- we pretty much can. Instead of an hour and a half drive to see each other, it's only a 10 minute drive! Hell, I could even bike over to say hey! I mean -- not that I will bike or anything, what with the lazy factor and all, I mean -- have I mentioned that it's only a 10 minute drive?

Speaking of being able to play basketball, we've already thrown down with Summer Series 2003! Our brand new 1-on-1 tourney (of death! not really!) is currently knotted at 1 win each. Sounds a lot like the end of our Summer Series 2001, doesn't it? (We ended up tied at 1.5 win each.) Well friends, the SS2003 ain't over yet. I'm gonna get that kid... if it's the last thing I doooooo!!! *voice trails off, hands balled into fists, shaking all over with rage*

Ooh. Slipped into supervillian mode there -- think Gargamel. My apologies -- I'll try not to let a slip like that happen again.

SS2003 Match #3: Mabye tomorrow. Can you feel the anticipation building? I sure can!

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Oh, speaking of speaking-of-basketball, I tried my hops out last week while playing basketball with Unkie Ross. And you know what? I'm almost back to where I was when I was a senior in high school. Ahh yeah. I can jump up and grab a big ol' piece of the rim. Sweeeet. So, obviously that makes me happy.

Since I would still like to be able to dunk a basketball at some point in my life (it's a short term goal), and hey -- I'm not getting any younger -- I've been training, sort of, kind of. It looks like it's paying off a bit, too -- I'm getting closer to the sweet sweet dunkology than I've been in years! Years, damn it! And that's a (kind of weak) reason why I'm happy now. *deh*

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In a few short weeks, I'll be getting married and celebrating my honeymoon on the lovely island of Bora Bora. That's a huge ass reason why I'm happy now. *duh ding!* Huge. Ah, the South Pacific... I can't wait. You know, really, that's about the funnest thing you can say to a person. I'm going to Bora Bora. Ah, the South Pacific. You want in on the fun? Well now -- here's a script, try for yourself and see!

You: You know what I'm doing? I'm getting married and celebrating my honeymoon on Bora Bora in a few short weeks.
Robot: Does not compute.

See, and if you talked to a person, instead of a robot (you! I knew you would do that!) the response may be even more impressive. At any rate, it's always a good idea to brag, and there are very few places that sound as cool as Bora Bora. Remember to drop that name in casual conversations as often as is feasible.

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I actually had a good concert experience. I know -- shocking! Truly, truly shocking! Last weekend, Lindsay and I made the trek to East Troy, Wisconsin to catch Radiohead at Alpine Valley, a lovely outdoor music theatre. To be perfectly blunt and slightly profane (which I'm good at -- hey! it's a gift!) the show was un-fucking-believable. I mean, seriously people, I've tried to come up with a better way to describe it, but that is it. The show was perfect on so many levels.

The sound was great, the stage show was, by far, the best I've ever seen from any band ever and the crowd was rocking out -- all-in-all a really great atmosphere. The band was having a great time onstage and was really feeding off the crowd, who fed off the band -- it was absolutely contagious. Un-fucking-believable. Hell, even the weather cooperated -- and I know from experience that outdoor shows can be affected by the, you know, weather. Fortunately, the temperature was perfect. It wasn't humid either -- pretty much every other day except for the day of the concert was. Crazy. But in a good way. In a crazy good way.

And the thing is -- the concert could have been spoiled for me -- maybe. Well, now that I think about it, I doubt it. The band and all that other stuff was just too good. There were incidents, though, if you know what I mean. Incidents similar to the White Stripes fiasco. Incidents that could have put a damper on my enjoyment of the show -- only I didn't let them. I didn't let them dampen a damn thing. Yay me! *I Will Survive, by Gloria Gaynor should start blasting outta your speakers any moment now*

Incidents, you say? Yes. Incidents. For instance: The show started a half hour early, thanks to the opening band going on at 6:30 instead of 7:00. Of course, Lindsay and I didn't know that since we didn't even try to make it in to see the opener. So Lins and I were waiting in line to get money from the ATM in order to wait in a line to get a bracelet in order to get in a line and get beer and then a line for tee shirts and lines for free shin kicks and other such fun stuff, so, yeah -- we were in line at the ATM. We were next, when beautiful music swelled and started to creep into the Expo Center -- it was the opening bars of 2+2=5, the opening track from Radiohead's latest album, the excellent Hail to the Thief. We looked over at each other like oh shit. they're starting now? So we got our $$$ (make that $$ -- we didn't pull out that much) and hurried off to our seats. Screw all the line waiting we had planned.

One thing about Alpine Valley is the way the seating is split up -- you either get actual seats in the Pavillion area or you get to stand wherever you can find a spot on the lawn. I've experienced the lawn 1 time and have vowed to never do that again, no matter what. The lawn seats suck. You don't have a designated space that you can always have and neither does anyone else, so basically if you want a little bit of personal space, you've got to go to a spot where the show is less enjoyable. But anyway... back to the story...

I had a basic idea of where our seats were, but I didn't know exactly where, so on the way, at the various ticket checkpoints, I asked for help 3 times. Can you tell me where these seats are?, you know, stuff like that. I didn't really get any specific answers, so it looked like we were on our own. Plus Radiohead is playing a good song and it's going crazy in the pavillion. We found our section (201), then our row (NN) and started down until we were in the general area of our seats -- which were 13 & 15. OK, first off, how the hell did Ticketmaster manage to split the seats up? The hell? Second off, have you ever tried to find your actual seats by stage light while people are all standing up and grooving to the music and you don't want to be an asshole and boot people out of what may be your actual seats but you don't know because it's too dark to see the actual seat numbers? Yeah. It's a good time. So we stopped at 2 empty seats -- I think they were 8 & 9 or something like that. So we settled in and started to soak in the concert.

A few songs later, I received a tap on my back. I turned around and this dude gave me this smirky little arrogant "you're in my seat, asshole" grin while he held his ticket stub up. Lindsay and I were so totally immersed in the concert that this sudden jolt was just too much to take -- and we both reverted to Junior High Eric (J.H.Eric) and Junior High Lindsay (J.H.Lindsay). Not sure why. So, even though our actual seats were just 5 or 7 seats down, we bolted all the way down the aisle thinking that our seats, or some very nearby would be open -- they just had to be!

We probably passed a good 20 seats when I thought I should ask someone what seat number they're at -- didn't want to overshoot our actual seats by too much -- even though I knew we already had. So I stopped and asked 2 kind of cute freshman-aged college girls if they knew the seat number. Only since I was J.H.Eric, it was probably more like this:

J.H.Eric: *fidgeting* Um, do you, uh, know what, like, seat number this is? We're um *trailing off* looking for our seats *incoherent* or something...

Yeah, I know. Not good. The response? The blankest (and bitchiest!) stare I've received in quite some time. For some reason I still stood there for 10 seconds or so -- waiting. Way not to leave, J.H.Eric! Finally they said Twenty Eight. in the bitchiest, least respectful way I've ever heard. I'm your elder, young lady -- treat me with some respect! Hee. Only J.H.Eric and J.H.Lindsay ducked down and ran further down the aisle looking for empty seats... all the way to seats 38 and 39, where we enjoyed the rest of the show. And we enjoyed the hell out of it.

And, as you know, the show was incredible. Some of the more profane among us may even describe it as un-fucking-believable -- even if it took us 2 hours to get out of the parking lot afterwards.

Good concert experience? Best concert ever? Yeah, that's why I'm happy now. *diiiing!*

Well now! Long post -- thanks for sticking with it. You're a real champ, friend -- a real champ! Thanks for stopping by!
Eric