In Which Our Hero Waxes...Something. Not Nostalgic. And Not His Chest. Maybe Just...On and Off.

Egads! It's been a while, hobo fans! My apologies. Life has been happening at a pace somewhat short of breakneck, and I've been spending all of my mental energy on other things. But I find myself with a few moments to spare and an itching to tell stories, so here I am.

And OH the stories I could tell. Some of them are too recent and sensitive to discuss, like the Great Gummi Penis War of 2009, which had surprisingly traumatic repercussions, the nature of which I am not at liberty to share at the moment.

I CAN tell you about the impromptu Obama Day parade that crept up on me this afternoon. Seriously, it was a full-blown parade. There were drummers. There were hippies. There were signs espousing various opinions, mostly on the theme of Hope, but also covering marijuana legalization, the general and specific awfulness of Bush, TWO marriage proposals, and even the plight of squirrels. Yes, squirrels.

There were also stilt-walkers in bikinis (it was about 80 today in lovely downtown Santa Cruz), and I have to say that I was impressed by their ability to gyrate effectively while balancing four feet off the ground. I guess it's a short (ha) route from stripper heels to stilts, eh?

I spent a nice few minutes bonding with my fellow Starbucks junkies as we watched the home-made hippie parade and batted amusing and ironic commentary back and forth. It was just what I needed after a rough week.

And now I'm going to eat some tasty burritos and hang out with my partner in crime. Until next time, amigos!