I'm always behind. I get up late every morning. My three-minute eggs take twice as long. I get 5 o'clock shadow at about 7 or 8. I haven't even started my taxes yet for 2005.
Yes, I'm always behind, but I guess that's what I get for being an ass. Get it? Behind? Ass? Ha!
Yeah, I was late getting started on this column this week too, so the jokes are going to be that caliber from here on out. They're pretty hit or miss. Get it? Caliber? Hit or miss? It's a gun reference!
Oh boy. This is going to be a tough one.
But speaking of asses, which I was before I was speaking of firearms, what was up with that nudity issue last week? I saw more skin in town over Mardi Gras weekend than in New Times and people were wearing turtlenecks out of fear of being arrested for indecent exposure. This town is so uptight now, I saw a couple of frat guys throwing beads to a woman who took her sweater off, even though she had another layer or two of shirts underneath. They were that hard up. Still, they were better off than the dude I saw tossing strands at the railway crossing lights on California and Foothill, just because the bulbs were flashing. Flashing! Get it? Flashing?
Just shoot me now. Put me out of my misery. Take my life, please.
Anyway, New Times, if you're going to talk the naked talk, walk the naked walk. I mean, there wasn't even a hint of a nipple anywhere in there. And I looked. In a show of protest, I'm typing this column naked right now. My apologies to my co-workers in the cubicle next to mine. Yes, I know I could use a little sun.
But back to Mardi Gras: Word on the mean streets from the likes of SLOPD Capt. Dan Blanke is that the bars saw a brisk business, but house parties were thin on the ground. I saw a DUI checkpoint, but it was still light outside when the cops were getting it started, so I doubted they'd catch any drunk drivers anytime soon. I certainly wasn't worried. I don't start my drinking until midnight or so. Late, as usual.
I could wax annoying about Mardi Gras again, but really, what's the point? I've done it before, and, frankly, I'm tired of hearing about it from myself. I should move on to a new topic, but as some rich guy who could afford to say such things once pointed out, there's nothing new under the sun. I could skip out on the rest of this column and work on my tan as something nude under the sun, but I don't have enough sunscreen to prevent every part of me from getting burned, and there are a few parts which didn't get flashed around over the last week, if you catch my drift that I don't exactly want peeling. Yowch.
Plus, I hear that there are big rains on the way, which don't bode well for sunbathers or cyclists on the Amgen Tour of California, for that matter. Is it possible to ride a bike in the rain? I have no idea. Regardless, I hope the downpour doesn't put a damper on our city's future prospects with the race. It's so fun to see the Chamber of Commerce get so excited about something so wholesome, and we could all use a break from talking about building heights downtown.
While I'm on the tired and oft-repeated subject of everything I've been talking about, I'd like to mention that this time of year always makes me reflective, you know? We face Mardi Gras after Mardi Gras after Mardi Gras. The more things change, the more they stay the same, which is a cliche that's so worn, I'm not even going to use it.
But honestly, the news is always the same. If it's not development, it's water. If it's not water, it's sewage. If it's not sewage, it's development. And if it's not any of those, it's all three. I guess it makes sense. Those are the basic necessities for life: shelter, sustenance, and waste. Oh, and reproduction's in there somewhere, too, which also makes headlines a lot. And there are lawsuits, like the one Citizens for Planning Responsibly has been threatening against the county and scraping together cash for, but that brings us back to Measure J and opponents of Ernie Dalidio's big dreams and development, for that matter all topics that have been as bandied about as all the rest. There's some religion and education debate that's been going on in Atascadero, too, and I'm going to scream if one more person talks to me about the war in Iraq.
The only remotely new take on anything lately came from Los Osos notable Julie Tacker, who sent us some sort of rebuttal in response to Patrick Klemz's nature-boy story on eucalyptus from a few weeks back. She pointed out that all the article did was perpetuate hype that pits "so-called 'environmentalists'" against each other.
While trying to fathom the depths of her letter, someone here dredged up some language from an Audubon article that sounded a lot like hers. A lot. Of course, I've been known to write stuff that sounds a lot like other stuff, too. After all, now is the winter of our discontent and such, which means nobody's happy with the weather especially racing cyclists and grumpy people tend to complain more often. I know I do, though my words usually come too late to make any impact.