The pointless Blog

Okay, I smell like smoke. In the last 4 hours, I've visited and spent more time in bars than I have altogether in the last two years and subsequently been hit on by more broads, respectively. My ego would be served by the second participle of the last sentence if only the "ladies", and I use that term lightly, would have been under the age of 35.

Yes, folks. I'm back in Hamilton.

I called up one of the very best friends I've ever had in Joe "Southpaw" Bradish. He was my best friend for years, along with the best first basemen I had ever played with, as well as the only perons I've ever known whose love of the Cubs could rival mine own.

Joe's back from Korea now, and unemployed. So basically, we went drinkin'.

We called up my cousin, Zach, and met him at the "gay bar." An esablishment in the next town of Warsaw, owned by two Gay "life mates." Apparently, its the place to be. So there we went. We sat down and played pool, the three of us, and the guy who lived next door to Zach growing up, Eric Morehouse. Eric, I discovered, is going to graduate with a computer science degree, even though he hates computers. He still drives the 45 minutes home from WIU to work in neighboring Keokuk, IA's Wal-Mart on every weekend. He hates that too. He was drinking Bud-Lite, which, believe it or not, he also hates.

I think you're seeing how the evening went.

WELP! You're wrong, my friends! I actually had a pretty good time. Once I got over getting hit on by drunk much older ladies, and the smoke, and the bad country music, and the "freebird" being played on the jukebox, literally, every other song, the times were good. Joe and I mopped the floor with Zach and Eric on the pool table, and I got to see no less than 5 or 6 girls who "used to be hot" walk through the door.

I also had fun explaining to people how Baylor is actually in Texas. Even more fun was the automatic 2 part respect I instantly received from whomever I happened to be talking. The first part was that I had actually escaped. The second part was that I was actually at a good school. They had heard of Baylor, though they couldn't remember why... I was quick to point out that it was the "Harvard of the South." They didn't disagree...

Anyway, we ended up getting lost in the country on our way over to a friend's house. Classic Hamilton passtime.

I've realized that Hamilton is a great place to "be from." Like it or not, this will be and always remain, my home town. I don't have to like it, though I imagine I will always love it.

My home is in Texas, but a large part of my heart is and I "reckon" always will be, in Hamilton, Illinois 62341.