I'm not sure I can say anything else nice about Tony Hightower without changing this website to tonygush.blogspot.com. But at the risk of alienating my legions of readers, I will say it again, Tony rocks. Last night I saw The Wise Sophia and kept Tony out way past his bedtime trading stories and drinking coffee that probably kept him up even later and he only complained a little bit. Even when I exhibited gross ignorance regarding Canadian geography and used the phrase "shovelling hot dogs."
Living among the suburban masses sometimes makes me lose my bearings, but hanging out with intelligent, articulate, charismatic beings reminds me that being not-cool in New Jersey is actually the goal, not the downfall.
By the way, to the guy who yelled "YOU GOTTA MUSCLE YOUR WAY IN THERE, SWEETHEART" as I alternate merged my way into the Holland Tunnel around 12:30 this morning, go to hell. If one car is *towing* another car, it's kinda hard to slip in between them, no matter how small my car may be. Yes, that finger was for you. Go back to Jersey! Oh, uh... right.
life lessons.
You may have noticed that I kind of abandoned last weekend's tale... I didn't really have much more to say. Sorry for the lack of closure (ugh, what a terrible term to carry-over from psychobabble... ah, psychobabble -- another word I hate). But here... I think I can boil it down to a few simple Tuesdays-With-Morries. Some of these came from last weekend, some from more recently:
1.) Never trust an SUV with Jersey plates. One of the most dangerous places in the world for me in my little car is at Exit 15, the southbound I-87 interchange with I-287 and Rte 17. This is where all NJ drivers have their last opportunity to do something dumb among NY drivers. Usually this consists of blindly swooping right across 3 or 4 lanes, then correcting back a couple of lanes to the left. I usually just cower in the far right lane and try to stay out of the way of anyone with a travel mug and a cel phone. Which is everyone.
2.) Never claim superiority for either Entenmann's or Freihofer's chocolate chip cookies. I have it on fairly decent authority that they are one and the same. The Freihofer's tan box may make you think of home, and the Entenmann's commercials may bring a tear to your eye and a glob of drool to your lip, but you may as well merge those sentiments because you'll never win an argument based on either.
3.) Never pass an H&M without buying something. Truthfully, I'm including this one just because I want to make sure H&M is in business forever to supply me with the powder blue leopard print vinyl bags and miscellaneous actually wearable pink things I need to survive. But I don't think it would hurt if we all just tried to look a little more Hennes or a little more Mauritz. You bring the feathers, I'll bring the plaid. Come on, you can't beat $6 pants.
4.) Always carry a little notebook. I used to constantly carry a little notebook around and take notes on life. Then a boyfriend came along and called me "affected" and said something like, "yeah, I used to carry a little notebook around, too... when I was young." And I stopped packing that little notebook and now there's a whole big bunch of rants lost forever. I believe it is actively participating in life that creates the impact I'm going for, but it doesn't hurt to have some crib notes for your friends in case they were too drunk to remember the great truths you exhaled upon them.
5.) Always argue with the car moving. This is a lesson I learned a while ago. In the car is the worst possible place to argue, but if it must be done, it must be done in motion. Sitting on the side of the road and arguing in the car is the final circle of hell. Sometimes you just need to blurt out, "Drive, dammit! Drive now!" Of course, my best advice is to never get in a car with someone who raises your hackles, but sometimes you don't realize you're with that person until you're 250 miles from everywhere and when that time comes, I hope you remember this.
6.) Always go, even if that means going alone. Lately I've discovered the pleasure of going alone. Like, going into the city for a show, going to the mall for new shoes, going insane...
That's it for this preachy entry. I know, you may not attach much credibility to suggestions from a 25-year old suburban girl engineer, the one with the sheltered upbringing and the sweeping ignorance of Canadian geography, but in my delusional reality, you are all awaiting my every instruction, the answers to how to live a life as righteous as mine. So there you are, my minions, my public.
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