I have lunch once a week with my buddy, Trevor. It amazes our wives that two taciturn, selectively social introverts actually make time to get together. They've both stated they wished they could listen in on our conversations, although I don't think we've ever discussed anything earthshattering. Topics have included the works of Neil Gaiman of which he's an avid reader and selective collector. He'll also recount his and his wife's adventures in parenting. It was Trevor's son who purchased the Switch after hours of slinging chicken sandwiches. Sometimes we exchange titles of the shows we're currently binging. He's contemplating doing yet another run through Battlestar Galactica. Admittedly, we'll occasionally wind up in the fringe territory. Once, for a few weeks, we were actively making plans to attend the services of a congregation of Zoroastrian Fire Worshipers at their local temple. While those plans fell through, the idea is still on the table.
My childhood friends are another obvious source of inspiration. My defacto brothers, Noel and Roel, and close friend Mike make regular appearances. These days, people are aware that every interaction is subject to being uploaded to the cloud for public display, discussion, and/or ridicule. Folks in my generation generally breathe a sigh of relief that our youthful shenanigans predate the Internet. However, decades before the juggernaut of social media and smartphones, Mike and I somehow managed to build libraries of photographic evidence of some of our antics. He's said I make him nervous every time I crack open my archive of hard copy photographs to post pics from back in the day. We're in a weird state of photographic detente.
Then there are my coworkers past and present. I spend at least 40 waking hours a week with these people and their idiosyncratic personalities. Unfortunately, thumping them on the head when they aggravate me is frowned upon by HR so I satisfy myself by narrating their tales.
To keep track of all these storylines and ideas for this blog, I've taken to using a journaling app on my phone. When noteworthy situations, ideas, or songs are encountered, I jot them down for future use. Often when Andrea and I are talking, she'll say something either profound or hilarious, and I'll reach for my phone. "Wait. What are you doing?" she'll ask. I just smile as I make a quick notation.
"That right there is Rock-tober material." She'll sigh and shake her head.
"Hmmph. You really need to start paying me." I then remind her all conversations are fair game.
"You've got to remember to be careful. To paraphrase Ol' Jimmy, 'Don't ever forget that you just may wind up in my blog.'"
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