The Story Of My Fucking Life


Posted by ilbebe on February 6, 2012

Superstition is a strange beast, and it’s unsurprising to me that its hold on the human psyche has only grown since the days of animism. When faced with starvation, why not vote Republican?


It’s February 6, 2012, and there are several people whose birthday is today that I’d like to discuss. I hope this will help elucidate my position on superstition.


A. Arjuna – This guy is great. I met him a few years ago after Jenny Bradley moved back from Chicago and reconnected with members of the Humboldt expat community in San Francisco. What??, I hear you say, Don’t you mean that the other way around? Well, it works both ways. Indeed, there are numerous refugees from the Bay Area living all over the place, from Sonoma to Coos Bay to Port Townsend, and every which way from there as well. There’s a shitload in Humboldt County because it’s beautiful and low key and only a five hour drive from San Francisco. But lots of people whose hearts truly reside in Humboldt County live in San Francisco as well, whether for expanded dating opportunities, financial prospects, better weather, or any number of countless other reasons. Seriously, the list of reasons to come to San Francisco and see if you like it is as long as the organ solo in In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.


Anyhoo, Arjuna is a pretty great guy. He met Jenny when they still lived in Arcata at the same time, which was after I moved away to Oakland. We have a riot swapping stories about similar experiences we’ve had in Humboldt County and all over the place, because if there’s one thing college teaches you, if yr paying attention, is how to meet people and go places. The last time we hung out was during the time described in chapter Seventy, where coincidentally, we discussed the nature and manner of coincidence. The juke that night was killing it, and the following Saturday, I was able to squeeze in some plays of my own. I picked “It’s A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock And Roll), and when it came on, the place nearly exxxploded. Next time I see ya, buddy, I’m gonna put “Superstitious” on the juke, unless someone else coins dent the slot first. Perhaps I’ll write about it before it happens, and then see if it happens…


Happy Birthday, Arjuna! 33? 34? More or less? 🙂


B. Nolan – This guy is also great. Today is his third birthday. I drove past the hospital where he was born yesterday with three friends. We were on our way to a friend’s house in Concord to watch the big game, a decade-or-so long tradition that I’ve only missed out on say half the time. Am I being sarcastic or superstitious when I say it’s a strong thing knowing that he was born in a hospital two miles away from the one I went to after I had a really bad day on February 6, 2007? When he’s older, I’ll tell him the whole story, or maybe I’ll read it to him from these pages. I wouldn’t burden a three year-old with a story this heavy, but maybe everything will change in a year’s time. It’ll be 2013, that’s all we know for sure. Or do we know more than we’re letting on?


For now, I’m content to give Nolan airplane rides and noogies when he comes around wearing a cute lil’ tan dinosaur sweatshirt.


Happy Third Birthday, Nolan!


C. Ronald Reagan – Decent actor, awful person, terrible president. Awful precedent for 41 and 43. It’s as if the Dub was taking advice from a forty, even though he said he had quit drinking…


Fuck you, Ronald Reagan. I hope the harp music is setting yr pickled brain straight again, so that you can see what you did to this country. When we fix everything you broke or threw away, we’re not even going to take yr name off the Arlington Airport. But we’re going to let people fly in and out of there for free, no matter if they have a passport or not. Mexicans, Ronnie. How do you feel about that? Maybe you shouldn’t have faked your own assassination attempt. That sort of shit generally makes most sane people wish they didn’t have a memory any more…


I hope yr 101st birthday sucks shit.


D. Bob Marley – ONE LOVE! What’s not to love about the guy? Who wouldn’t want to share a birthday with a dude like that? Who but ourselves can free our minds? We’re thinking about it now, Bob. Thanks for the wisdom, thanks for the grooves, thanks for being yrself when we needed someone like you to lift us out of the shiny variety of shackles we put ourselves in when we started crossing the oceans to tell people how to live. Thanks for all the memories.


Happy 67th Birthday, Bob!


And to everyone else- yr birthdays are coming soon enough! Whaddya want to do for ‘em? This year and from now on, we can do whatever we want to. Love yas.




-11:40AM 2/6/12, Tacky’s place, sun at my back, heading out for a stroll now…


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