No More Mr. Nice Guy: Yesterday: My troubles seemed so far away

In what was not a particularly good post, I made some rash and narcissistic revealings on the cusp of my 35th. I'm not particularly proud of that garbino, but that is the nature of blogging (journaling.)

Things haven't changed much in the span of 20+ hours. They never really do unless they you are involved in a tragedy or Ed McMahon's Publisher's Clearing House prize crew finally shows up at your town home/flat/loft/cardboard box down on "Mainstreet."

I spent last night out with one of two friends I really have. (Their brothers, educated in technology, sports and visionary about the future...But they are just getting started.) Anyways, I meet up with Mark at this "club", Hooligans. It really big - and has a liquor special of $1 on any typical drink (Corona's, Miller's, you call it shots, etc.) So I did something I normally don't do - I got mildly intoxicated. Not staggering drunk, or even mildly off kilter, but I felt the effects of having one too many. (I had 4 beers and two shots - the shots pushed me over - in a span of 5 hours.)

Mark didn't know about how I felt beforehand - though we did discuss the story behind my recent years incarcerated. Which had been tangent to the prior post.

There are things you don't forget about behind bars.

The first time I saw a man get beat down by 5 others - just kicked to a pulp - leaves a lasting impression.

Or the time I had to go to the bathroom, and saw...two men doing, ya know... that leaves a pecular and distasteful mark.

Or the time I saw a man use a toilet paper roll, some foil (from God knows where), a match and some cocaine to satsify his addiction.

Or heard about a guy "fighting his way out" of a gang; he received two broken arms and a severe concussion from the beatdown.

After a guy received a lengthy sentence, he took a homemade shank and tried to slice this other man up. For his trouble, he got beat up by the ex-Marine he took on.

There's a list quite long and disgusting that runs through my mind. It's not because I like it or feel the prospect is close at hand that I'll go back. (I'm just tired of they way things are around me...not just about me...but this whole ball of wax we call Earth-World-America-Indiana.)

Earlier I put in quotations, "Mainstreet", which is a Bob Seger song I like when I decide to hear it. The lyrics don't fit the stirring guitar in the song; but I'll put them here to satisfy those who might be interested:

I remember standing on the corner at midnight
Trying to get my courage up
There was this long lovely dancer in a little club downtown
I loved to watch her do her stuff
Through the long lonely nights she filled my sleep
Her body softly swaying to that smoky beat

Down on mainstreet

In the pool halls, the hustlers and the losers
I used to watch 'em through the glass
Well I'd stand outside at closing time
Just to watch her walk on past
Unlike all the other ladies, she looked so young and sweet
As she made her way alone down that empty street

Down on mainstreet
And sometimes even now, when I'm feeling lonely and beat
I drift back in time and I find my feet
Down on mainstreet
Down on mainstreet

Here's the You Tube for those who want to see a 2007 performance with the sax doing the work of the stirring....