tremodian

I'm spending some time in my home town, Bellingham, Washington, while I work out some USCG licensing so I can go back to sea. What this means practically is that I've spent every night this week drinking till bar close with old friends. Which is excellent and has improved my mood a lot. The last couple of icy, deserted, alcoholic nights, I've taken my drunken aimlessness and channeled it into my childhood love of exploring places I shouldn't go. Last night I tiptoed on the rocks under the commercial docks on the south side. I came up in a shipyard full of guys working the night shift and just casually wandered out like I was a yard rat just clocking out. Tonight, at some peril, I climbed really flimsy gas pipes to a slippery rooftop downtown and walked the length of the block. Then I found an underground hookah bar, of all things, (not on the roof, but still cool) which got me just buzzed enough to walk all the way home, where I now sit.

And, I'd like to learn this song on the mandolin. It's goofy, but just poetic enough to be interesting without being pretentious. Step one: learn the mandolin.