Tag: West View (page 2 of 2)

SpongeBob grew up in my house


A few weeks ago I stood in my driveway, minding my own business.  I was pouring old gas out of my lawnmower, if you must know.  My enjoyment of the fumes was interrupted by a pothead wearing a sweet jean jacket.  Walking up my driveway with an excited look on his face, he blurted, “John, is this your house?”.  It’s a small town, so yeah, he knew my name.  “You’ll never guess who grew up in your house”, he raved.  Then pausing for emphasis, he slowly enunciated, “Vincent Waller”.  Disappointed by the blank expression on my face he explained, “Vincent Waller is the creative director, sometimes technical director, and writer of SpongeBob SquarePants!”.  The potman went on to explain that he used to play in a jug band with Mr. Waller, etc, etc, etc, etc.

So there’s that.  Every day I breathe trace amounts of SpongeBob’s DNA.  ****Update**** Apparently Mr. Waller was born and raised in Texas.  Random potheads walking down the street are poor sources of information.

When I hear a song I like, I listen to it 30-40 times in a row until I’m sick of it.  As a result, I have a large collection of mp3’s that I never want to hear again.  The last two days I’ve listened only to this song.  I imagine that I’m sitting around a campfire with my friends.  We’ve all brought guitars, and we’re taking turns playing and singing.  It’s my turn, and I’m playing this one.

There are a few issues with this scenario:

  1. I only have a couple of friends.
  2. The don’t play guitar.
  3. They’re not really into camping.

Adapting to a new evironment

When I first moved to downtownish Chicago, my life revolved around a sickfast sport car.  Both my car and I hated Chicago.  Potholes gnawed at its chassis.  Parallel parkers ravaged its fenders.  Cops fed it a steady diet of parking tickets.  After three years of Chicago misery, my car breathed its last.  While still in mourning, the following week I bought a bicycle.  Soon enough, my bike took me to faraway lands never before seen from the highway:  Mexico, Poland, Ukraine, Greece, Puerto Rico, and a third world African country.  Within a month I had fallen in love with the beauty of urban life, its vibrance and its decay.

Four years ago I moved to a small town just outside of Pittsburgh.  I have to drive (a minivan) everywhere.  While I slowly strangle nature, I’ve learned to soak up its beauty.  Every day I drive to Home Depot.  And this is what I see:


I have to admit, I kind of like this place.

Next week I will be better than you!

What is the blue giant doing?  And why is he wearing socks with sandals?  He’s cutting granite, and he was too lazy to put on shoes.  What’s wrong with a little sock/sandal action within my own house?  Nothing!

There are better ways of doing this.

There are better ways of doing this.

At 3:20 pm it occurred to me that my kids were waiting to be picked up from school, leaving no time to change footwear or shower away my layer of granite dust.  One reason I enjoy living in West View is that sock/sandal action is a step up from the community’s sartorial mean.  After picking up the nerds, I rushed Zach off to his eye appointment at the mall (not in West View), once again allowing no time to change footwear.  People at the mall were not impressed with my sandals.

You can judge my sock/sandal indiscretion all you want, but next week my freshly opened granite space will contain a Viking cooktop.  Viking!  What does a Viking cooktop mean?  In suburban sprawl or downtown condo terms, it means I’m better than you.  So there!

Mr. Viking's new home.

Mr. Viking's new home.