by John Schrup
For many of us, today, Monday, August, Twentyservinteenth(?) is the first day of the fall semester for our kids. I knew it was coming because all of a sudden there were no parking spots at the Central Market and there were all the parents in full on burnt orange, leading their college freshperson around with a full grocery cart. It’s funny to see all the stuff the parents buy for their kids. As if the kid is actually going to make the pork medallions with the demi glace, saffron risotto, endive and walnut salad with Lucky Charms croutons. They aren’t. They’re going to go to Taco Bell. Face it. And at that very moment, all he or she is thinking about is which of the packaging material in the grocery cart will make the best bong.
I bring up school because last night, well after I had decided that I was gonna blow off the Newton thing and go hang out at the Naropa University, change my name to Govinda Das and bring some hardcore consciousness to this bitch, I get this email from Newton. It is the itinerary for the trip. Little late, but whatevs. Amish James, Subtle Chuck and I had been wondering about some things. You know, logistics. Like where in Boulder we were supposed to go to this meeting, this thing. I don’t know, maybe where we were supposed to, you know, sleep. Nothing major.
So I got the email detailing all that, which is all fine and dandy, but then something caught my eye. Like, Tuesday caught my eye. All of it. On the schedule sent to us, we—Amish Chuck, Subtle James and I—will park our asses in seats and listen to lectures by members of the First Newton Ministry from 8am until 5pm. All I gotta say is there better be a lunch break and it better be sushi and there better be a happy ending or this sumbitch is gonna be pissed. I don’t know about you, but where I come from what the f***! Shit man! I don’t go to Boulder to listen to people lecture to me. That’s my job. If I’m going to Boulder, I expect some trail running, some Frank Shorter stalking, maybe eat some naan, I don’t know. NOT class time.
Ok, deep breaths. Worse things can happen. I’ll think of them here in a minute but until then…worse things can happen. It could be Reebok. But I’m gonna keep an open mind. I’m an enlightenment kinda guy. I can get centered as shit. It’s all good. I’m cool.
Alright. I gotta stop this. We’re approaching Amarillo and I know some 5-0 is gonna give me shit for typing and driving. You’d be surprised at how perfectly the MacBook nestles just right in the negative space of the Yaris steering wheel. Almost like Toyota and Jobs had an agreement. Ok, I’ll write more tonight after we get settled. We’ll take some pics and post ‘em up so you can live vicariously through us. Party time. Excellent. Hugs!