I’m seated next to the most talkative person at the Kraken game. He’s the guy that gets four or five drinks in him before showing up. There’s not much I don’t know about him by the end of the first period.
His first concert? C&C Music Factory.
Where was he last week? In 14-degree weather in Vancouver, staying at a hotel across from Rogers Arena, watching the Kraken play the Canucks.
Did he show me pictures of it all? Of course.
When Green Day’s “Welcome to Paradise” came on (aka the first cd I owned), I sang, and so did he. “I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams; she said it’s lack of sex that’s bringing me down .” Mine sounded more like that, and his sounded more like “duh-duh-duh-duh.”
He delivered a poor high ten to me (think of a soft tipi slap) after the Kraken tied it up.
He made a joke that his son didn’t like about a player needing Viagra or Cialis to get the puck up in the air. Then they argued about the game, too, nothing serious, mind you, but it reminded me of two announcer buddies squabbling over technicalities that only matter to them.
It’s 11:33 pm, and I’m home. When driving in, the headlights shown on the duck’s pen, and I saw several heads looking at me. Thinking they’d be bunkered down, I worried something was wrong, but then I remembered that nocturnal behavior was normal for them.
I’m heading to the ocean for the new year. I hope we have enough wood for all-day and all-night fires. There’s nothing like a fire in the wood stove.
Alright, time for bed. I’ll chat with you tomorrow. Love, Jaclynn