I awoke last night around three in the morning to a horrible screeching noise. Confused, I sat up in my bed and listened. It sounded like a 747 coming for a landing in my bedroom. I suddenly realized that it was actually my A/C unit. The screech eventually tapered off and with a few mournful 'thumps' and a final death rattle, my window a/c unit died. I was somehow expecting it to die this summer, I just did not realize how soon. Luckily I have a plan 'B' a/c unit carefully wrapped up in plastic in my garage, so I will not do without, however I am going to miss my current one.
I had a busy day Saturday. First I drove up to Ocala to visit my friend K. We just puttered about and grabbed some breakfast. I stopped in the natural foods store up there and got a bottle of Elderberry mead. K was playing with my camera and taking pictures of things. At one point she snuck up behind some 80-year-old woman in stockings and high heels, smoking a cigarette. Some old withered hussy. However, what is scary is that when I got home and looked at the photo she snapped of just the hussy's legs, I'll be damned if I could tell they came from some withered old lady. Stockings and high heels can work magic.
I came home and took a nap and then a bath and then wandered off to meet another friend for dinner. By accident the address she gave me to her house was missing a letter. Oddly enough, there was a street by that missing letter name in the same zip code. So I drive out there and spent about twenty minutes driving up and down the same road trying to spot the house number. After a few confused calls and text messages, I finally worked out that I was on the wrong address. I then had to find Mills Ave, and I suddenly had a complete brain fart. I Know Mills ave, I have been up and down it a thousand times, and I knew I was near it, but I'll be damned if I could recall where it is. I finally had to stop at a gas station where some nice lady at the pump informed me that Mills and Orlando Avenue and 17&92 are all the same road. Oh yeah. Duh. Damn I hate Florida and their dozen different names for a single road.
We drove down to I-drive and got some dinner at Texas De Brazil where I swilled in a complete meat orgy. Damn I love that place even if it is way too crowded and over priced. Actually, I discovered that if you sign up on the website and put in the next day as your birthday, you will get a buy-one get-one coupon in your email. However, much to my disappointment, it works for every day of the week except Saturday.
I want a magic meat-dude token. One that I can pull out anywhere and flip and suddenly a dozen meat dudes bearing BBQ meat on swords will come and pile them up in front of me. It would be better than a cornucopia.
Afterwards we went to stardust video and chatted for a while. I like watching all the characters that file through that place. The film students, the wanna-be artists, the people who flock around the wanna-be artists, the vast number of lesbians, all sprinkled in with the occasional yuppie and drug abuser. Some of the meat I had eaten at texas-de-brazil had been a bit on the salty side and I was feeling dehydrated. I slurped down one ice coffee, and then alter another, in hopes of keeping me awake, however the day had been too long and I had indulged in too much protein; I was slipping into a meat coma.
Sunday I sweated out the meat by carving up the klingon table I had used for my part a while back and hauling it to the dump. I then swung by my parent's house to hop in their pool. They are gone for a few months so I can go swimming whenever I want as long as Old Man Alan does not catch me. I then went home with plans of other stuff I wanted to do around the house, but then just ended up watching 'Pans Labrynth' which turne dout to be pretty good.
Finally, here is a pic I had forgotten I took while on vacation, a rotting stuffed animal that was in the 'Africa' shop at south of the border. I think it's a Hyena. It looks demonic.
2026 Update
Nineteen years ago, I'm setting the dial to Ed’s 3 a.m. A/C death rattle—the meat coma is still hours away.
Ah, 2007. A window A/C unit was a personality, not a subscription. Ed mourns its death rattle and keeps a backup wrapped in plastic; now we just pray the smart thermostat doesn't brick and demand a monthly cooling plan. His Texas de Brazil birthday-coupon trick is adorable—back then a man could lie to a website and get a buy-one-get-one email. Now the app wants your location, your dining history, and maybe a DNA sample before offering 10% off one sad skewer. He got lost and asked a nice lady at the gas pump; now the phone gives turn-by-turn directions and you still ignore them. And Stardust Video, where film students and drug abusers browsed tapes and DVDs? All that sociology is a streaming service now, and the characters have been flattened into content. Ed’s meat coma and demonic hyena photo remain eternal, but 2007 Ed was the last man standing in a world of road names, coupon emails, and video-store people-watching.
“2007 Ed, when you finally learned that Mills, Orlando Avenue, and 17&92 were all the same road, did you have a moment of Floridian enlightenment, or did you just spend the rest of the day muttering curses at every road sign?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2007 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, I’m gonna say it was about sixty percent cursing and forty percent dumb enlightenment. The moment that nice lady at the pump said they were all the same road, I just stood there blinking like a possum in headlights. Oh yeah. DUH. I’ve been up and down that blasted stretch a thousand times, and my brain still refuses to keep track of Florida’s obsession with renaming everything every few miles. It’s like the road has multiple personalities. So yes, I muttered curses at every green sign for the rest of the drive, but I also felt a tiny little click in my head, like one of those puzzle pieces finally settling into place. Then I went and ate more meat and forgot all about it until now. Damn roads. At least the meat orgy made up for it.
