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30on30: After Midnight

2008-08-28 - 7:44 a.m.

Listening To: Os Mutantes, Tears for Fears, Guster

"I wanted to be with you alone - and talk about the weather." - Tears for Fears

�����Witching Hour, Shmitching Hour, I always say. Well, to be fair, that's the first time I've ever said that. But I imagine it's going to go into heavy rotation really soon. It was a full moon on the 16th! When we had my par-tay. No werewolves were spotted. Luckily Andrew was in Florida so our silver bullets (of the non-Coors persuasion) stayed safely in our emergency lockets that night.

�����Wait . . . something about midnight? Hmmmm . . . oh yes! At this advanced age that I am (hadn't you heard?) there are fewer and fewer people I can talk to late at night. Now, don't let me fool you. I'm not some sort of Stay Up Late person. You know, see him him drink - from a bottle. See him eat - from a plate! Nothing like that. I yearn for the days when Frederick and I would stay up until the end(!) of Conan and then watch infomercials because there was nothing else on. (Oh, to be young with hummingbird blood flowing the veins again!) Now I'm lucky if I stay up past the end of the Red Sox game. And God knows after Leno I'm all laughed out. (Ugh. Even as a joke it hurts to type it.)

�����But yes, before I was so rudely interupted by that FlashFredBack, I was saying how few people are up late anymore. It's not necessarily a bad thing. Peeps get old. Have kids. Early wake-up calls to the oil rig. Obviously last night doesn't count because it was my birthday at midnight. Monique wished me Happy Birthday at 11:50 because she said she just couldn't make it to midnight. (It's just her way. Don't judge her. That's God's job. And God's fellow adjudicators. Ha, adjudicator.) Patrick, Andy, and Kate were the first after midnight to congratulate me for my new decrepitude. Well, vocally. I suppose Ryan and Stacey get shout-outs for Facebookery. But like I said, that doesn't count.

�����So I guess on a normal night around midnight, assuming I'm not in labor or anything, I could, without getting in trouble, call Rick, maybe Ryan, Beth, and . . . um, Annie? No, I think that would be too late for Annie. I don't count Jamie or Pat because while they're always up that late, they live down the hall and downstairs. Oh, Brad. Definitely Brad. He's always up late taking pictures of crackwhores in Manhattan doing all sorts of crackwhorey things. I suppose Coty and Jimbo work too, but they're in California and that's cheating. Trust me, getting to live in San Diego 365 midnights out the year? That's definitely cheating.

�����It's been real,

�������Z

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