Jeff Kay's Blog, page 21

20 Memorable Quotes From My Life So Far, vol. 1

This is by no means comprehensive. I’ll undoubtedly think of stuff I should’ve included, for the next several days. But there’s always Volume 2, right? Maybe. We’ll have to see how this one goes… In any case, I didn’t include any quotes from myself, only things other people have said that stuck with me through the years. I remember most of them because they’re funny. But sometimes it’s because they’re disturbing and creepy, or occasionally infuriating. Oh, prepare yourself to be changed, my friends. I’m about to drop an overwhelming load o’ wisdom on yer asses. Let’s get to it, shall we?

“Don’t lean up again’ the wall, Kay! What’s the matter with you?! Do something!” -my Little League coach during practices, multiple times
“You think that’s funny, Kay? It’s not funny! You’re sick!!” -one of my Junior High teachers, immediately after he told us about a horrific accident… in what I thought was a very funny way
“And he’s about two hoe-handles across the ass…” -my dad describing somebody (can’t remember), using an unusual unit of measure
“That’s the worst music I’ve ever heard in my life.” -my dad, as he walked past my bedroom, many times
“I was taking a shit in there! What kind of person interrupts another man’s shit??” -a weird and menacing customer on my paper route, while I was attempting to collect his payment
“Tastes like cold biscuits.” -my friend Tim after he took his first (and possibly last) drink of beer
“If I’d been stranded in the Saraha Desert, with nothing but saltine crackers, I couldn’t drink as much water as you guys drink beer.” -also Tim
“We do not mean to Hastle you but law Require that all ID be Check” -sign hanging in a beer store we frequented, which was run by Arabs, or perhaps Persians
“Tits! Look at the tits!!” -a whole gang of us loaded in my parents’ station wagon, arriving at the drive-in while a softcore porn movie played on the screen
“And you know what that F stands for, don’t you?” -one of my super-classy high school teachers, after I asked her about the grade she’d issued me
“She’s so ugly she could scare varnish off a door.” -my friend Vincent, talking about a classmate (can’t remember) during high school
“Look at you two drunk sons a bitches!” -my friend Billy’s dad, after we returned home from a night of socializing
“I’d like to lay that wide open.” -disgusting old perv co-worker ogling a cashier at Fas-Chek, a grocery store where I worked during high school and beyond
“Oh man, I’d love to beat off in her hair.” -disgusting young perv co-worker ogling another cashier at Fas-Chek
“Oh right! Like you’ve never farted.” -Vincent to two old lady customers who were reacting to him loudly blasting-ass within four feet of them, at Fas-Chek
“I saw The Who once. But it was a long time ago when they still called themselves The Guess Who.” -idiot co-worker at the Dunbar Exxon
“Motherfucker can’t shit if he ain’t got no ass!” -idiot co-worker at Food Lion grocery store in Greensboro, NC, while discussing a photo of a legless man with other idiot co-workers
“Why are you laughing like that? I could’ve been seriously injured.” -some girl (can’t remember) during one of the worst dates of my life, in Atlanta, after she’d told me a story that was flat-out hilarious
“Oooooh, I think he wearin’ something!” -elderly black nurse hours after our oldest son was born, and after he’d ruined his first diaper
“Thanks for nothing, bitch!” -drunken female co-worker, after asking a woman for a light at the Christmas party, not knowing that the woman was the CEO’s wife

Like I say, this is nowhere near comprehensive. I could easily come up with a hundred of these little gems if you gave me a few days. But now I’d like to turn it over to you guys. In the comments section please share some memorable quotes from your own life, in the same format. Thanks in advance!

And I need to get ready for work now. Ugh. It’s painful, boys and girls, mighty painful.

Have a great day!

I’ll see you again on Thursday.

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I Was Not Amused By Our Recent Amusement Park Visit, And The Greatest TV Show Ever?

Yep, it was too hot for amusement. Last time I mentioned we were going to Knoebels, and it was supposed to be one of the hottest days in (I think I have this right) human existence. And “they” were right. Yowza! It was the kind of oppressive heat that just leaches all the energy, optimism, and survival instincts from a person. It felt like my outsize body was just sucking up the hot and storing it in my ass and gut meat.

But we endured for a few hours. And then a hell-storm rolled through. We noticed the sky turning menacing, so we took shelter in a big covered eatery called The Oasis. Toney and I were sitting there, somebody screamed, and stuff started flying around. Then a blast of hot air hit us, and it was filled with sand and dust. Both my eyes were instantly on fire and I was coughing like the tuberculosis had taken hold. As soon as I regained my composure bolts of lightning started coming down and it sounded like shit was blowing up.

Oh, it was a great day, I’m telling you. I didn’t even get my BLT. Grrr… I did have some cheese fries (an automatic must) and Toney and I shared a weird Southern sweet tea slushie thing we love. But that’s all the eating I could fit in, ’cause the day was cut short. After the storm everything was wet and many of the rides didn’t even re-open, so the boys were fine with leaving. Thank God.

And get this! We made our way to Cracker Barrel for dinner, as is the tradition, and they were all out of the Campfire Meals. WTS? They advertise them every seven minutes, but when you go there they don’t actually have them? I was annoyed but quickly adapted. It’s easy for a man of my size and disposition to adapt at a Cracker Barrel.

But it was an unsatisfactory day. Not a complete disaster — we got a few hours of broiling “fun” out of it — but it could’ve been better. Ya know? Hey, whatever. I’ve reached a point where I just roll with just about everything. I don’t have the energy for any, you know, honest to goodness emotions at this point. Pass the beer nuts.

Under what circumstances have you experienced the highest temperatures in your life so far? Please tell us about them in the comments.

This week I finished the final season of The Americans. Holy shit! It’s without a doubt one of the best shows ever, and the final season might have been the best of its entire run. Every episode was fantastic, and the final installment was like great literature. Oh, it was exciting and crazy, but also super-smart and well-executed. I can’t recommend the show strongly enough. One of my all-time favorites.

In fact, if somebody were to ask for my favorite TV shows of all-time, I’d list (in no particular order): The Americans, The Sopranos, LOST, Breaking Bad, Deadwood, Homicide: Life on the Streets, The Andy Griffith Show, Seinfeld, The Office, Late Night with David Letterman, Beavis and Butthead, and Green Acres. There are tons of others that I loved (Homeland, House of Cards, Freaks and Geeks) but the ones above are the core shows, I believe. I might’ve forgotten some? I’m not sure.

What would your core list look like? And can you name just one favorite from your list? I can’t. It’s impossible. Right?

I need to call it a day, my friends. More “opportunities” await me at work. They just keep on comin’.

I posted a new podcast episode at Patreon, a weekly thank-you to all 23 patrons who have pledged $4 or more per month. So, thank you guys! And remember, there’s always room for more.

This is the short description I wrote for it: A lack of mystery in today’s music, a guy wearing a Tabasco shirt, rampaging monkeys, and a gentleman known as Manwich Dick. Plus, a few other odds and ends. Mostly ends, to be honest. This is the first episode for patrons only. Thank you guys! Much appreciated. I hope you enjoy the show.

I’ll be back on Monday.

Have a fantastic weekend, boys and girls!

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Too Hot For Amusement? We’ll See. Also: Powerful Stenches In Public Places!

Apparently we’re going to Knoebels today. A month or two ago we picked a random Monday, all four of us scheduled it off, and proclaimed it Knoebels day. And now that the random Monday has arrived, these are some reasons I don’t want to go:

It’s hotter than the devil’s ball pouch out there. Supposedly the “heat index” is going to be 103 today. WTF? That doesn’t sound like fun, it sounds like sustained misery. Why not just spend the day at a steel mill?
I didn’t sleep very well last night and don’t feel super-great. The thought of piling into a car and driving to an amusement park seems unlikely to me. Yet it’s going to happen? …’Cause we’re a slave to an arbitrary date on a calendar? Should be fun.
I think I’ve officially reached a point where I have no interest in ridin’ shit. Ya know? The Phoenix roller coaster is fun and world famous, but it’s made for tiny 1947 asses. I have to sit tilted to one side because I fill up 150% of the space. And the rest of it’s just not all that much fun anymore. The log flume thing? Eh. Who wants to walk around covered in sticky hepatitis water all day?

However, these are some reasons I DO want to go:

Apparently, they have a new BLT shack, where you can buy big honkin’ BLTs?
We usually stop at Cracker Barrel on the way home.

So, if there’s any motivation at all, it’s 100% food-based. We’ll see what happens. I guess it’ll be worth it if we get a Cracker Barrel visit out of it. They’re serving the Campfire Meals again. Shit! Can’t wait to go to Knoebels!!

Speaking of high heat and amusement parks, I remember being at King’s Island a million years ago with an ex-girlfriend. We were on The Beast, which is one of the craziest things in the world. And you know how people like to put their hands up in the air on roller coasters, to prove their badassery or whatever? Well, when this one dude lifted his arms a stench was released that would’ve brought Andre the Giant to his knees. Everybody within a 20-foot radius of Pit Zero just instantly howled in protest and their faces went all distorted with disgust. I don’t know why stuff like that makes me laugh, but I couldn’t stop all day long. Every time I thought about it I’d start cracking up again. Wotta shitbag.

On Saturday I sent a test email to the old mailing list. I think it had been two years or more since I’d sent anything out. In fact, at some point I moved it to MailChimp and ditched the expensive service I’d been paying for and not really using. And that probably happened more than a year ago. So, I didn’t know what the results would be. I figured many email addresses would bounce, and that a substantial number of people would unsubscribe. In fact, I invited folks to unsubscribe, ’cause I don’t want people on there who don’t wanna be included. Right? Well… here are the results so far:

1717 emails sent
92 bounced
17 unsubscribed

However, at this point, only about 40% of the emails have even been opened. So, the unsubscribe number could continue to climb. And that’s fine. If you didn’t receive the Saturday email and would like to be included in the Surf Report mailing list, here’s your form. You won’t receive many messages from me, but I’ll keep you updated whenever something notable happens.

Also, be sure to check out the questionable new “podcast” right here. Three episodes in the can! Hey, if nothing else… the intro music is cool.

I’ll leave you now with a couple of Questions. And since I’m bullet-pointing all my shit today, let’s keep it going.

In the comments section please complete this sentence “It’s hotter than…” Sometimes I say hotter than owl piss, and I swore I heard somebody say that as a kid. But when I do a Google search for the phrase it’s all Surf Report. Seems unlikely. Anyway, help me out with that apt phrase, won’t you?
Also, if you have any tales to tell about horrible stenches in public places, I definitely want to hear it. The older boy told me a co-worker “shit himself” a few days ago at work. Said it smelled horrendous. How does something like that happen?? I’m glad it does, but how? So, if you have anything on that subject, please share.

And I’m going to call it a day, my friends.

I’ll be back on Thursday.

Have a great one!

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A Brand New Episode Of The Podcast, And Hanging Out With My Friends In Storm Shelters!

Before we get started, once again, I have a fresh new episode of the podcast that’s (not) sweeping the nation, for ya. This is the last installment that will be available to everyone, and I’m reasonably OK with how it turned out. Oh, I have a black belt in beating the shit out of myself. But it went fairly well, I think. Check out episode 3 of The Jeff Kay Show, right here.

Starting with number 4 the “show” will be accessible to anyone who pledges $4 or more at Patreon. It’s an interesting and fun way for me to say thank you to the folks who choose to be a patron. I’m enjoying it, and hopefully you guys are, as well. I’m viewing it as a challenge. I want to get to the point where I’m halfway decent at it. Not sure if that’s attainable, but it’s my dream, boys and girls. Please stay tuned.

And by the way, the next one is already recorded. The guy who does production work for me is going out of town next week, so I had to do two this week. Number 4 is far and away the most ridiculous and freewheeling episode yet. I recorded it immediately after I finished the new one above, and it was difficult to talk that much. My mouth was getting dry and it was… something else. Now I know why talk shows take callers or interview people. It gives the hosts a break! Talking for one hour straight is tougher than it seems.

Anyway, if you want to continue on this dubious journey with me, or would simply like to support my efforts, please pledge at least $4 per month at Patreon. Thank you, guys! Sincerely.

Last night at work everybody’s phones started shrieking with some kind of ungodly howl o’ the demon. TORNADO WARNING, mine informed me, and immediately we were told to get everyone into “the shelters.” They’re not really shelters, they’re just pre-determined interior rooms with no windows, etc. Needless to say, I was grumbling under my breath about this nonsense, this gross overreaction. We have work to do, goddammit!

But we all piled in together, and immediately the temperature started rising. It’s amazing how humans can heat up a space, lickety-split. Sweet Maria. And after about 20 minutes they announced the ALL CLEAR and everybody dispersed. However… ten minutes later it happened again. So we had to corral the entire population into the shelters and hunker down again. This time for about 45 minutes.

The whole time we were locked down I was texting Toney about how stupid it all was. She was confused because it was a beautiful summer night up where we lived. I was being exceedingly cynical about the entire exercise. But I had no way of knowing that Wilkes-Barre was now…. gone, or something. Check this shit out, from The Washington Post. And be sure to scroll through the photos at the bottom of this article.

Buildings are collapsed, cars are upside down. It’s wild. As I was driving home on the Devil’s Parkway I had to repeatedly pull to the side to let screaming emergency vehicles pass. And I could see from the interstate that there were roughly 10,000 (my unofficial estimate) police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances down around the mall. Craziness!

Yeah, all I know is… Cracker Barrel better be OK.

Have you ever been on lock-down at work, or anywhere else for that matter? When Toney and I were at WEA Atlanta there were bomb threats during the big Ice-T “Cop Killer” controversy, and we were repeatedly standing in the parking lot while they checked things out. One time, I remember, it was freezing cold out there and I shouted, “Ah, come on! The only bomb in that building is the new Madonna album.” That got a decent laugh.

And a few of my co-workers and I hunkered down during a robbery once at a grocery store in West Virginia. Masked bastards came in carrying shotguns and I nearly shat myself that night, my friends. Scary!

Do you have anything on lock-downs? For weather or anything else? Please use the comments section and I’ll be back on Monday.

Have yourselves a fine, fine weekend!

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A Rare Night Out For An Old Fat Bastard!

The boys and I drove down to Philadelphia yesterday to see one of our favorite bands, The Eels. I’ve seen them at least eight times now, and this is the third time for the younglings. Always a blast. However… the 25-year-old me would’ve been appalled by the 55-year-old version. ‘Cause I spent a big hunk o’ yesterday kinda dreading the hassle of it. Ya know? I certainly wanted to see the show, but it’s such an ordeal… Just sitting on the couch, drinking a beer or four, and watching Beachfront Bargain Hunt with Toney sounded like a more pleasing option. It’s shocking, I know.

But the tickets were already purchased, and we were meeting Steve and his wife Myra down there. So we drove through a persistent rain to Philly and joined them at a bar a few doors down from Union Transfer, where the show would be happening. It was a place called Roy-Pitz Barrel House, for some reason, and they brew their own beer, etc. Cool place, with great music (Sex Pistols, Germs, Wire) cranking.

I had a fantastic idea there that I’m exceedingly proud of. Myra ordered some kind of macaroni and cheese with duck meat in it. And get this! I suggested they rebrand it quackaroni and cheese. Tell me that’s not perfect. Very proud.

I had two IPAs and some fries. Everything was good, and one of the owners even sat with us for a while. Nice dude. Great place.

The opening act was someone who bills himself as That 1 Guy. He plays a homemade instrument he’s dubbed “the magic pipe.” It looks like a long vacuum cleaner hose. Fairly bizarre, but he was certainly talented and got a lot out of his… pipe. He integrated a small amount of magic, as well as puppetry, into the show. Like I say, fairly bizarre. Check it out.

And the Eels just flat-out rocked the joint. You never know what version of the band you’re going to get, but this was the one I like the most: stripped down and rocking. No violas… no grand piano. And it was freaking loud too. So much fun! They played stuff from their entire catalog, including reworked versions of “Novocaine for the Soul” and “Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues.” It feels like they don’t play those very often. Fantastic show.

The leader, known as E, was hilarious throughout. After they blasted through four or five sped-up tunes right out of the gate, including a surprising cover of “Raspberry Beret,” he shouted, “I’m old as fuck! But goddamn, I rock!!” Later he assured us that what we were witnessing was a “display of badassery the likes of which most people have never experienced.” Heh. Everything he says is tongue in cheek. He also kept referring to Philadelphia as The Brotherly Apple. Some of that stuff is in this cell phone footage that’s surprisingly good.

I can’t find a setlist yet, but it was very close to the Boston show, right here. The picture above is from the Brooklyn show, the night before we saw them. I brazenly lifted it straight off Instagram. Nice photo, huh? By the way, I found out in his memoir that E is almost exactly the same age as I am. Old as fuck. Thanks for the confirmation!

The drive home was a real sphincter-pincher. It was POURING rain almost the entire way. There was water pooling on the turnpike, and it felt like I was going to hydroplane into the woods at any second. It sucked ass, fully and completely. It felt like it took seven hours and my shoulders were aching with tension.

But now that it’s in the rearview mirror, I’m definitely glad I went. It wasn’t without its aggravations, but I’ll only remember the show and the good times beforehand at the bar. The shitty stuff fades, for some reason. Right? Right.

I’m not running on all cylinders this morning, my friends. And I’m going to call it a day. Please be sure to check out the podcast if you haven’t already. Right here. Also, the exciting new site: Explanations for Aliens.

And I’ll leave you with a simple Question: What do you think the 25-year-old you would think of the current version? Any thoughts on that? Please use the comments.

And I’ll see you guys again on Thursday.

Have a great day!

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Support us by doing your shopping on Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you, guys!

A New Podcast Episode, Wieners in a Drawer, Cell Phone Data, Drunk Tests, and How We Met Our Significant Others

Before we get started on this dubious exercise, I want to alert you to a fresh-baked episode of the Jeff Kay Show podcast, right here. This time ’round I discuss an eavesdropping session at a breakfast buffet, the Circle of Life at a McDonald’s drive-through, and my pain-in-the-ass Lenovo computer. Please check it out and give me your… gentle feedback. And if you missed the first one, here it is.

I have a dude who does a super-light touch production on the podcast. I told him, even before the first episode was recorded, that I wanted it to remain rough. I don’t want some shiny polish on it; it should be more Ramones than Steely Dan. But he has free reign to clean up any major issues and is doing a bang-up job as far as I can tell. However, he told me he’s going to be on vacation in a couple of weeks, so I’m going to have to send him two episodes next week. We’ll see how that goes. Already the rhythm is being interrupted. And I’m not sure how many ums one person can generate in a single week. But we’ll find out.

Yesterday I opened the drawer in our kitchen where we keep the aluminum foil ‘n’ shit. I was getting ready to “cook” some mini tacos for lunch and needed some foil. But I was surprised to find a pack of wieners in there. They were opened, and four remained. Nathan’s in case you were wondering. And somebody put them in the foil drawer. WTF? I asked Toney about it and she said the older boy grilled some hotdogs the night before, and must’ve done it. How? I sometimes catch myself almost putting a half-gallon of ice cream in the pantry, or whatever, but never go all the way with it and just walk away. Are you familiar with this phenomenon? If so, please tell us about it in the comments. I don’t know for sure, and might be slandering the boy, but there is a small chance… just a tiny chance… that alcohol might have played a part in this. I’m just spitballing.

We’re completely out of cell phone data, the whole family, and it doesn’t refresh until 6/16. Man, that really boils my cabbage. Additional gigs cost an enormous amount, on top of the regular enormous amount we pay monthly. We almost never run out, but the Myrtle Beach trip killed us, I think. Plus, I listen to the Reds at work sometimes, so that doesn’t help. Grrr… Any idea how much unlimited data costs through Verizon? I could look myself, but I’m disgracefully lazy. I might have to give that Paul a call, over at Sprint. He seems like good people.

On Saturday Toney and I did a Costco run, where the mini tacos were procured (fukkin yum), and there was some dude in the parking lot doing a breathalyzer test for a passel of not-amused cops. This was at 1 pm or thereabouts. In a Costco parking lot. Wotta douche. All my breathalyzers have taken place after dark. I’m very proud of that fact. Actually, that’s a joke of sorts. I don’t think I’ve ever actually taken a breathalyzer test. I have, however, on several occasions been forced to touch my nose and walk a line, etc. Always after dark, thank you very much. And no DUIs. In fact, the last time it happened I was on my way home from work — at my current job — and the guy was CONVINCED I was drunk. Or he wanted me to be, or something. He put me through a whole battery o’ tests and I was stone cold sober. Until I got home, of course. Anything to share on this subject? Use the comments.

And I need to wrap it up, boys and girls. I put a couple of Questions in there, but I’ll leave you with another one. In the comments, if you’re so inclined, please tell us how you met your significant other. Or your ex, or whatever. I met Toney at work, at WEA Atlanta. Dating people from work probably isn’t the best idea, but we’re coming up on our 25th wedding anniversary. So, sometimes it pans out. What about you? Tell us all about it, if you want.

And I’ll be back on Monday with some more of this quality material.

See ya then!

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A Few Quick Things, vol. 68

How is it possible that the weekend is over already? I’m back in that mode where I start to get depressed about it on Sunday, and that’s not good, my friends. Toney always says, “You have 24 more hours!” In other words, stop yer bitching and enjoy what you gots. Or something similar. But last week was only four days, and it felt like eleven. The shortened weeks are often more painful than the normal ones for some reason. And once I’m finally clear, the weekend goes by faster than a Miller Genuine Draft dump. Ugh.

But the weather is better. At least I have that to cling to. Last week was hot and humid and utterly demoralizing. And now it’s like fall again. Love it! Speaking of hot and humid, I asked the younglings to put all the Soviet humboxes in the windows while I was at work last week. (More outsourcing!) But Toney and the younger boy have some kind of imagined problem with the big honkin’ living room air conditioner. They’ve convinced themselves it has mold in it. “We’re all going to get Legionnaires Disease,” the boy assured me. “Well, spray it out!” I shouted. But Toney tells me the unit is probably 12 years old, or maybe older, and needs to be replaced. We’re now at a place where they’ll believe the thing is a health hazard no matter what. So, I’m picking my battles, and I guess we’re going to buy a new one. I’m not sure why that one’s a problem and the bedroom units are not, but whatever. I know better than to bring it up, or we’ll be replacing those too.

In any case, we looked at them over the weekend and it’s amazing how small they are now. The one we’ve been using is so heavy it takes two people to carry it. And it’s super-loud. You’ve got to turn the TV up to 52 or something to hear it. Ha. I bet the new ones are a lot quieter too. So, maybe it’ll be a blessing in disguise? However, the one we zeroed in on (at Sam’s) is temporarily out of stock. The overzealous air conditioner concierge there assured us they’ll have a new shipment later in the week. I’m skeptical, of course. ‘Cause I assume most people don’t really know what they’re talking about. But we’ll see.

I did tell everyone that if this thing drags out though, and the ass-sweat weather returns, the mold box is going back in. Replace it, or it’s back to Spore City, baby! That’s the mandate.

The older boy is going to see Jack White this week, in Rochester. He’s going with a friend and staying overnight. So… I’ll be stressing about that situation until they return. There’s a certain level o’ knucklehead there, which doesn’t exactly give me a warm ‘n’ fuzzy feeling. Ya know? And on Sunday both boys and I are going to Philadelphia to see the Eels. We’re meeting Steve and his wife there. Should be fun. Early reports from the tour seem to indicate the band is in rockin’ mode. You never know what you’re going to get from them, but it appears they’re just stripping it down and cranking it up this year. My favorite kind of Eels show! I want to see a band called Wussy in July, but the details haven’t been worked out yet. The younger boy would be a perfect companion, but it’s a 21 and over show. I’m gonna have to lobby Steve to go with me. Stay tuned.

Do you have any concerts lined up for the summer? Tell us about ’em, won’t you?

And speaking of Steve, he recently gave me a bottle of Mickey’s Big Mouth. He said it would transport me back to 1980 when we used to drink that swill in an unreasonable quantity. I put it in the downstairs fridge and it stayed there for a couple of weeks. And when I finally cracked the seal on that bastard a familiar funk rushed out and I was indeed transported. It has a distinctive smell that I hadn’t experienced in 30 years or more. Crazy! But the beer itself? Horrendous. Most of that cheap garbage just goes down like water, but Mickey’s is aggressively bad. Oh, it puts up a fight. Heh.

Do any of you remember the weird old razor-sharp lids Mickey’s used to use on their big mouth bottles? Being shitfaced on cheap malt liquor and monkeying around with a lid that turns into a blade the moment you open it? Ahhh, those were the days. I think I still have a few hand scars as a result of various Mickey’s Mishaps. Today it’s just a normal twist-off lid. Too bad.

Tomorrow I’m going to record another episode of my “podcast.” Believe it or not, I’m looking forward to it. I think the first one was certainly bad but not as bad as I’d feared. It’s still early days, but I’m having fun with it. I was caught off-guard by my fairly pronounced accent, though. I knew I had a light dusting of it, but it’s more than a dusting. But tomorrow I’m doing it again and sending it off to the producer dude. I’ll post it on Friday, and make it available to everyone. The first three will be available to everyone, and starting at number four it’ll become a “thank you” to the folks who support me at Patreon. As I type this there are twelve of you. Much appreciated! That’ll be a small podcast audience if it doesn’t increase before then. But I don’t care. I’m keeping it going!

By the way, Patreon allows you to hide the total dollar amount pledged, and the number of patrons in each category. But I ain’t hiding anything. I’m running it wide-open. No hiding. If you’d like to support my dubious efforts, I’d be much obliged. Go for the $4 or more per month plan, and you’ll have access to the weekly audio. It’s going to get better. I’m somewhat sure of it. Here’s your link.

And I need to start winding this thing down. For a Question I’d like to know about the things you’re currently enjoying. I’ll give you my list, and hope you’ll do the same in the comments. My list: the “podcast,” the Cincinnati Reds (even though they’re having a terrible year), the entire Wussy catalog (greatness!), the final season of The Americans, and the crazy-ass second season of 13 Reasons Why. Also The Best Show, my current favorite podcast. I’ve been listening to it off and on for years, but I’m currently locked-in. It really is the best show.

What about you? What are you currently enjoying? Tell us about it, won’t you?

And I’m calling it a day. Don’t forget to check out the new site, Explanations for Aliens, if you haven’t already. I’m proud of some of that stuff.

I’ll see you guys again on Thursday.

Have a great day!

Now playing in the bunker

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I’ve Been Working On Some Stuff In The Background My Friends, And Here It Is

If I knew what I was doing I would’ve been teasing this for weeks and maybe used the mailing list and Facebook to build “anticipation.” But all of that would’ve required a level of energy and know-how that I do not possess. So, the best I can do is just tell you what’s been going on and hope for the best. All of it’s fun and fairly interesting, I think.

First of all, I’ve launched a new website based on one of my favorite recurring Surf Report features: Explanations for Aliens. Please check it out. I’ve published the five WVSR installments of it there and hit them with a light edit. PLUS(!) I’ve written three new reports for our alien friends: Facebook, grocery stores, and coffee shops. That’s three new updates on Day 1. Not bad, huh?

I’ve been tinkering with this thing for months. There’s a lot there (including this open letter), so please spend some time at the site and let me know your thoughts. I’m only going to update it on the first day of every month because I want to spend some time crafting each installment. If I did it weekly, I’d just be cranking them out before work one day. And nobody would benefit from such a scenario. I’ve been doing these the correct way: jotting down notes in advance, thinking about it while I drive to work, sitting down and writing it, and going back a few days later to punch it up.

I’m excited about this. It’s the kind of ridiculousness I used to write for my paper zine, so it’s a return to my roots, kinda sorta. It’s a different kind of writing than the blog. I guess I can use that word now… Anyway, please check it out and tell me what you think. There are a whole shitload of comments sections today. So, it’s probably going to be confusing for a while. But just use one or two of them. It doesn’t really matter, does it?

Also, I’ve started a Patreon page. There you can support my efforts by pledging a small monthly amount. You just sign up with a credit card or whatever, choose the amount you’d like to donate, and Patreon will do the rest. I hesitated with this one, to tell you the truth. I don’t like asking for money. BUT, something swayed me. A couple of things, actually.

First, advertising revenue has plunged over the past few years. Amazon is sometimes still strong, but everything else has dwindled down to almost nothing. In fact, I removed most of that crap because it just junks up the site and I barely benefit. Amazon is the only thing that still works, and it’s up and down. Some of it’s my fault, of course, because I don’t update as often as I did in the past. So, part of it’s a direct result of my low-level depression-fueled half-assery. I’m hoping that Patreon will be a good substitute for the loss of Google Adsense, etc. And it just feels more community-oriented. I’m certainly not asking for large amounts of money, just a cuppa two tree bucks per month. We’ll all be in this together. Hopefully.

And, here’s the fun part of this questionable endeavor. Patreon urges us to come up with “rewards” for each level of contribution. They suggest a whole bunch of stuff that I’m not really interested in. HOWEVER, I’m fired-up about one of them: a podcast for patrons. I don’t talk about it, because o’ the potential mockery and ridicule, but I’ve been secretly interested in starting a podcast for several years. Patreon makes it possible, because they’ll do the hosting, and only a small group of people will be able to hear it. I like that. The first three episodes will be available to everyone, but starting with number four it’ll be a reward for folks who contribute at least $4 per month.

Please read my over-long and wordy-ass overview at Patreon for further explanation. And once you’re finished with that… oh, Sweet Maria… give a listen to the very first episode of The Jeff Kay Show, right here. This is going so far outside my comfort zone, I’m fixin’ to vomit. The thought of you guys actually listening to that thing makes my sphincter wink, and I’m not kidding.

In any case, I plan to have a new episode posted every Friday. Even if there’s only three people listening, I’m sticking with it and hopefully getting better at it. I have my microphone, my intro/outro (pretty cool!), my production guy… Now I just need to figure out how to do a halfway decent show. Ha. Please be gentle. I’m very fragile and delicate on the matter.

And finally, I’m pledging to get on a Monday/Thursday Surf Report schedule for you guys, and sticking to it. I waited until Friday this week because it just so happened to fall on June 1 and I wanted to start Explanations for Aliens on the first day of the month. But starting next week it’ll be:

Monday and Thursday: Surf Report

Friday: The Jeff Kay Show “podcast”

First day of every month: Explanations for Aliens

It’s a new era! I need to get serious again and stop the mopin’. Sweet sainted mother of Kurt Bevacqua. I have a really funny humor novel started, too. I love the premise, and what’s already written makes me laugh. Why’d I abandon it? ‘Cause I’m a mess, that’s why. But no more! I’m going all-in, and hope you’ll join me.

I also hope you can recognize the effort put forth on the new site and the Patreon page and even the audio experiment. I’ve been working hard behind the scenes, boys and girls. And I’m sincerely excited… and a little nervous about the audio.

Let me know what you think, and I’ll see you again on Monday.

Have a great weekend!

Now playing in the bunker

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Field Report: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, May 2018

We made it, my friends. Our first “real” trip in many years is now in the books, and it was a success. Not absolute perfection, of course, but certainly successful. Today I’m going to try to get through all the highlights and cover the entire trip in a single update. I have a history of dragging these things out, but I’m going to attempt to limit this one. We’ll see how it goes.

— We flew on Allegiant Air, which was recently featured in a 60 Minutes segment. And it’s rarely a good thing when your business is featured in a 60 Minutes segment. Right? So, I was mildly concerned. The logical part o’ my brain told me there are thousands of flights every day, almost all without incident. But the emotional part said, “We’re going to end up like goddamn Lynyrd Skynyrd!”

But it was fine. Sure, the plane was ancient, possibly from the 1980s. There were “smoking/no smoking” lights where the “fasten your seatbelts” lights are, but they’d put NO SMOKING stickers on top of them. I wondered where they bought the planes? From Saudi Arabia, or one of the countries behind the Iron Curtain? Sweet sainted mother of Patsy Cline. It got us there, though. I listened to Marc Maron interview Josh Brolin during the one-hour 18-minute flight, which helped distract me from all the creaking and groaning. Ugh.

— Oh, one small thing about the TSA check-in at Allentown: a uniformed woman whispered to me in a conspiratorial voice before I’d gone through the metal detector, “Have you had knee or hip replacement surgery?” What the? So now I’m being profiled as a man who has likely had his skeleton rebuilt?? Get Jesse Jackson on the phone! And why’d she whisper it? I didn’t care for any of it.

— We had a 2018 Ford Escape waiting for us, which Toney reserved through some kind of Costco program. For the whole week, it cost $160. I’m no rental car expert, but my inner sensors told me it was a good deal.

We made a beeline for Chick-fil-A and had lunch. The place was pandemonium, and there was a guy there with a man-bun who pretty much acted as our dedicated chicken sandwich concierge. Oh, he was nothing if not eager to please. Here he is in silhouette, in a photo I snapped on a subsequent visit. He was apparently on a break this day, and his majestic bun is clearly visible.

After our fantastic lunch, we went straight across the street to a Walmart Supercenter. I remember years ago they did Lasik surgery in there. Can that possibly be true? It’s a clear memory that I have, but it seems improbable. Right? In any case, we purchased some “getting started” supplies. You know, junk food in abundance? Plus some sunscreen and beer. I don’t use sunscreen, but the younglings do. They’re delicate that way. But check out the beer section. Can we assume Bud Light is their biggest seller? We bought a 6 pack of some local beer (can’t remember) and a 15 pack of Founders All Day IPA.

— We stayed at a place called Paradise Resort. Toney and Nancy Hedges stayed there once and had nothing but good things to say about it. And they were right, it was super-nice and everybody was exceedingly friendly. We were on the 15th floor and had a full-blown apartment up there: two bedrooms, two baths, full kitchen, washer/dryer, etc. And the balcony was amazing. It was wide and faced the ocean. Here’s a pic I snapped from the balcony moments after we checked in.

— That evening we went to dinner at a place called Tupelo Honey Cafe. It was southern food, yuppified. I had a fried chicken BLT with fries and a beer from New South Brewing. I ordered the IPA, but am almost certain they brought me some kind of wheat beer. Not really a fan. There’s a very good chance that what I drank was not from New South at all. Oh well. The food was good but felt expensive. Also, the waiter kept bringing us bad news and blaming it on his manager “Patrick.” We never saw this mythological creature, but Patrick weighed heavily on our visit there. Toney ordered a burger and the waiter said she could add a side for $2. She chose macaroni and cheese, and a few minutes later the guy relayed a message from Patrick: the mac ‘n’ cheese is actually $5 extra. WTF?? Five bucks for an ice cream scoop of elbow macaroni? But we were on vacation and had vowed to just go with the flow. Also, I had looked at their menu online and a pop-up said I could get a free pint glass if I signed up for their mailing list. I did, but Patrick sent us the news that they were all out of pint glasses. It went on and on. I never met the man, but he was certainly a buzzkill. Like I say though, the food was good. Whatever. I have a feeling that once the details fade I’ll be left with nothing but a big negative blur. Way to go, Patrick!

— After that, I can’t keep the things straight in my mind. It was just days of sitting in the sun, walking on the beach, hanging out on the balcony, and drinking adult beverages. It was a blast! I managed to decompress pretty well, which was needed. God knows it’s true.

— One day we went to the Ripley’s Aquarium. It was the third or fourth time we’ve been there, and it’s always fun. I’m not generally an aquarium kinda guy, but that place is pretty great. There’s a glass tunnel and a moving sidewalk with all manner o’ sea creatures swimming around and above you. And here’s a photo I took of some jellyfish action. It was fun, as usual. Recommended! Next door is a place called Broadway at the Beach, which is a sprawling shoppin’ ‘n’ eatin’ situation. We walked around there for a little while, and had lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. Which was shockingly good, by the way. I’ve been to several Hard Rocks in my fatass travels, and they’re… fine. But this one was GOOD. The food was great, reasonably priced, and everybody was extra-friendly. And the manager even came out and introduced herself. She was the anti-Patrick. I can guarantee you she wouldn’t have dug in her heels over $3. Plus they had Keith Moon’s scooter in there. Supposedly. Who the hell knows?

— One night we went to an extreme seafood buffet called Crabby Mike’s. Every day the price changes, based on “the market.” Uh huh. All I know is… it cost us close to two hundred dollars. Yikes! And I don’t even like seafood all that much. But I took one for the team and didn’t veto the idea. Supposedly they have over 150 items to choose from, so I certainly had no problem finding something to eat. In fact, I was so determined to get my money’s worth I was miserable for hours afterward. It felt like I was about to explode in a spectacular supernova of poop and sweet tea. The boys, for the record, put on a freaking EATING CLINIC in that place. Good lord. It was an experience, I guess. The joint was packed, that’s for sure, and every jaw muscle was fully-engaged at all times. Even when people were up walking around, they were chewing. It was a full-on orgy of gluttonous behavior.

— And one day we went to what I consider to be the old downtown area. I could be wrong about that, but it’s how I think of it. It’s where the Gay Dolphin gift shop is located, which is even more over-the-top insanity. It’s a gigantic souvenir shop, basically, and they have stuff in there that’s been on the shelves since the 1960s, or maybe earlier. Almost every square inch is filled with all manner of crap. It’s mind-blowing. I bought a postcard with Elvis and his parents on it, and a voodoo doll. A few years ago I was there and bought an iron-on patch that reads “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing!” It’s pinned to the bulletin board beside me right now. The place is wild.

Right down the street is a vintage arcade that I’ve been enjoying off and on my whole life. It was nearly empty, which concerns me. But it’s almost exactly the same as it’s always been. These old baseball games are probably from the 1940s or early 1950s. They’re simple, fun, and extremely addicting. The boys and I sat and played ’em for over an hour, while Toney was down the street having a margarita or two.

We had lunch at a historic hot dog stand next door, called Peaches Corner. I had two “short dogs” with chili, mustard, and onions, and an order of fries. Fantastic. The whole afternoon was like going back in time. Except for the prices, of course. That shit was ultra-modern. And so it goes.

— And those, I think are the highlights. The boys shot off some ludicrously large bottle rockets on the beach a couple of times, and from the smell on our balcony, it was easy to conclude that there were a number of marijuana aficionados at the hotel. Also, it’s worth mentioning that you could sit on the toilet off our master bedroom and see the Atlantic Ocean. You know, if you left the bathroom door open. And that’s pretty cool! (“Toney, don’t come in here for a while. I’m going to meditate and get myself centered.” “You’re disgusting.”)  Also, I had an interesting conversation with a man at the hotel about cats. He was drinking Bud Light at noon and got confused at one point. Here’s how it went:

Him: Unfortunately there are a bunch of cats running around this place.

Me: You don’t like cats?

Him: Yeah, me either. Fuck ’em.

And on the final day, the Black Bike Week participants started to roll into town, and things started to get a little… rambunctious. People were hollering and blasting music off the balconies, and the whole tenor of the place changed. Things were getting cranked up, and I was enjoying every minute of it. That’s some good people-watching, right there. Thursday evening, the night before we left, I was riding up the elevator with a large Suge Knight-style gentleman who smelled like a Phish concert, and he asked if it was my last day of vacation. “How’d you know that?” I asked. He just laughed and said, “‘Cause shit’s about to get rough.” So, he concluded (correctly) that we were hightailing it out of there? If I gave a crap, I could probably pretend to be offended. But what do I care?

— On Friday we climbed back aboard the 1972 jetliner and returned to Allentown. Another interesting TSA encounter: after Toney passed through the metal detector they pulled her aside and swabbed her hands. WTF? Never heard of such a thing. Bizarre.

The flight was quiet and uneventful, which is just the way I like ’em. This time I listened to half an episode of The Best Show and was laughing my ass off. People probably thought I was a mental patient.

I was feeling pretty relaxed and “centered,” but when we got home I saw that my outsourcing of the lawn maintenance had broken down, for some reason. The shit was shaggy, and I was instantly back to being irritated. I texted the dude and got no response. Grrr… They finally showed up today, on a holiday, and said they’re running behind because of the rain. I don’t know. And tomorrow it’s back to work, and harsh reality.

But it was a great trip. Not completely perfect, but very good indeed. As I watched Myrtle Beach get smaller and smaller through the airplane window I felt a mild sadness set in. I wasn’t ready to leave. I’ve been going there my whole life, and it’s fun every time.

Here are some additional random photos, if you’re interested. Including one or two with the (gasp!) Secrets. Needless to say, Toney took the sunrise shots. I don’t know anything about that time of day.

And I’ll see you guys again soon.

Have a great day!

Now playing in the bunker

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A Few Quick Things, vol. 446

On the day we returned from Atlantic City I went straight to the car wash, ’cause my “new” car was covered in road filth and bugs. And when I got back home I parked in our driveway, climbed out from behind the wheel, and the woman across the street yelled, “Here comes fatty!”

Whoa whoa whoa! My head swiveled in her direction, and I was ready for war. But she was talking about one of her cats. They have a whole passel of outdoor cats over there, and they roam the neighborhood terrorizing and murdering various smaller animals. Apparently, she was feeding one of them on their porch, and another one came running. Hence the proclamation, “Here comes fatty!”

Thankfully I didn’t yell anything back at her and just went into the house as normal. And five minutes later I bent over to grab a cutting board from inside a kitchen cabinet and blew the entire ass out of my pants. It was an emotional roller coaster, I’m telling you.

Earlier this week I hired a guy to mow our lawn this summer. Actually, it’s not just one person, it’s a whole team of Larry the Cable Guy lookalikes. Last year I did it myself, with the dubious help of my kids. But this year I’m outsourcing that shit. I can’t really afford it, but that small detail isn’t holding me back. During my life, I’ve dabbled with living above my means, and find that I’m reasonably comfortable with it. Indeed, the day I told those guys to “get ‘er done” was like Christmas morning to me. I have an extra spring in my step now, and am greeting people on the street with “Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” and that sort of thing. And in Northeastern PA that’s viewed as bizarre behavior. This is more of a Do Not Make Eye Contact kinda place. They probably think I’m Special Needs. Oh well.

A few weeks ago I was in Wal-Mart buying socks. I don’t know what they’re called, I’m not up on all the latest sock lingo, but there’s a specific kind I like and Wal-Mart always has them. They’re fairly difficult to find elsewhere. Anyway, there were three girls in that section, maybe 14 years old. And they had some guy on the phone: his face was on the screen and they were talking to him about underwear. “Are these OK?” they asked. “Does it say 100% cotton?” he answered. “Hold them closer to the phone so I can see better.” The dude looked like he was 50 years old, and he sent a group of young teenage girls out to buy him a fresh bundle of tighty-whities? It was weird. And they weren’t even snickering or making sarcastic comments… The whole thing made me uncomfortable.

On a related note… Why do socks come in a resealable pouch? I sincerely don’t understand.

Here’s a conversation I had with Toney a few minutes ago:

Me: I think I’m going to order Chinese for lunch. Want anything?

Toney: Yeah. Sounds good. I’ll have General Chicken. …And don’t say it!

Me (ignoring the warning): I prefer a more specific chicken.

Toney: That was funny the first 25 times I heard it, but now it’s getting a little old.

Me: It’ll never get old. Never!

From the You Guys Were Completely Right department: The best thing on SiriusXM is Little Steven’s Underground Garage, Channel 21. It’s the only thing I listen to now. It’s fantastic. I’m even getting to know the DJs on there (Kid Leo, Mighty Manfred, Palmyra Delran, Lenny Kaye, etc.). It’s a pleasing mixture of things I know and love, songs I haven’t heard in 35 years, and a whole lotta great stuff that’s completely new to me. I no longer play CDs in my car or stream anything from my phone. It’s Underground Garage 100% of the time. The only small (very small) complaint is that they’re a little heavy-handed with the Joan Jett. I don’t have an issue with her, but they go overboard with it. Also, there’s too much latter-day Ramones. Is there really a need to hear deep cuts from Brain Drain etc.? I submit that there is not. But those are only small little bitch-bites. I love the channel. It’s made my life a little bit better.

I have to leave for work now. I’m working the old 3 pm to 1:30 am schedule today, covering for somebody on vacation. I worked that schedule for six years or so and didn’t think anything about it. Now it kicks my ass. It feels like it lasts roughly 20 hours. But I’ll survive. I’m almost sure of it.

We’ll be flying to Myrtle Beach in a few days. For a Question, I’d like to know what type of person is the worst to sit beside on an airplane. Also, if you have any terrible airplane passenger tales to tell, we’ll gladly take those, too. Use the comments section. I’m not sure when I’ll update again, but I should have some stories for you guys. Please stay tuned.

Have a great day, my friends.

See you again soon.

Now playing in the bunker

Support us by doing your shopping on Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you, guys!