California Dreamin'

I spent today cruising around Tyson's Corner Shopping Mall...and Costco...and Macy's...there may have been a few other joints that I've already repressed the memory of. I went with my mom. I love my mom, but I dislike shopping. If I need something, sure, I'll go out and get it; I can bask in the afterglow of a new purchase just like anyone, but the 'bargain hunting two-step' and 'coupon jig' at the local mall just don't make my yule-tide gay. While I wouldn't necessarily be safe and warm if I was back in L.A., I would sure as hell not have over-eager soccer moms bruising my achilles tendons with their shopping carts.

There was a Build-A-Bear workshop with some poor sucker standing in the doorway trying to lure the unwary mall-walker inside. He looked like he should have been about my age but took a wrong turn at 17 and got on the fast-lane to his middle years -- sort of a Ned Flanders type without the spectacles. He was wearing a Santa hat, a red polo and tight khaki shorts. Remember this is December in McLean, Virginia, so his legs are lookin' like two stalks of elementary school paste rolled around on a barbershop floor. And when I say "shorts" I really mean it in his case. Anyway, I was so embarrassed for this nutsac that I couldn't meet his gaze as I shuffled awkwardly past. I felt him looking at me, but I don't know whether it was a "For God's SAKE man, send help!" look or a "HELLO SIR! Would you like to build a precious personalized Teddy Bear today?!" look. I guess I'll never know.

I then passed this treacherous-looking music store called fye (what the hell kind of a name is that?) with a giant SIGNED poster of Michael Bolton hanging in the front window. Yeah, that's right. Michael Bolton. That bloody fool is still peddling his shit to people who don't know the difference between music and the sound of shrieking chimps. The mullet is gone but his big toothy grin is still there, leering out at the suburbs of D.C. like a beacon of evil. I looked around to see who was going to cry with me over the fate of humanity, but no one else seemed to take notice. Not even my mom. This is why my new theory is that NoVa is the Bizarro-world.

I'm going to try to spend more time with my friends over the next week or two, and less time looking at lambskin leather jackets at Costco. I'm in NYC on the 28th, and I'll probably ring in the New Year up there. We'll see. Xmastime is great, and I get straight-up nostalgic over Virginia when I haven't seen it for awhile. For now, though, I'm wishing I was back in the Good Luck Bar or La Poubelle, pouring out a bit of my forty for that jive-turkey in the Build-A-Bear Workshop.