“No Sleep Till Brooklyn”

A beautiful woman once told me that I “Live in moments.” As if I am an opportunist waiting for the exact perfect moment to act or speak. Once these moments occur I savor them, remember them forever, and even live in them forever. As if everything else is moot except for these excerpts of my life; my anticipation of them is nearly as genuine as finally reaching them. I think she nailed it. It is certainly how I write.

With that said, if all songs ever created just happened to fall in my lap and I was force to select just one by some sort of fatalistic demanding genie to represent this exact moment I would actually have an answer. If the title of this post wasn't a dead give away, my answer would be Beastie Boy's “No Sleep Till Brooklyn.” Why? Well, me and the Wingman are not stopping until our first stop, which is, well, Brooklyn. By not stopping I, of course, do not mean not literally stopping. We aren't animals here. At the last second we decided to go against the idea of adult diapers. Like good little economic monkeys though, we decided to pack a whole crap load of food to keep up the driving time and keep down the spending flow. The more money spent on food, the less that is being spent on booze. Although I am a social scientist, I was never good at economics. Some things I got covered though.

June 1st, go time. 2 Doubles of work have lead up to this moment, like the death knell of a fledgling turtle left on the carnage that is shore. Or, nothing like that at all. Regardless, we are leaving. The final chores will be a swing to the bank and a hearty bought breakfast; then it is nothing but open road. There will be a bit of a head to head bout over who compiled the best road trip mix between the Clout and the Wingman. My crown goes nowhere.

On a final note, I just received an email informing me about the start of hurricane season. And... then we left Florida.