Dispatches from Planet Corn: Fun With Uncle Steve

I'm not sure how to sum up Florida. I will say that Cape Canaveral is not your normal full-on Florida. It's not as humid and there's usually a nice breeze coming off the Atlantic. The mullet ratio is smaller than one would expect. And the racial overtones are a lot less blatant than what I've experienced on the Gulf coast. But ya know, it is still Florida.

Cape Canaveral is kinda like the cool uncle at a family gathering. You know the one. Has a few drinks, comes out to the garage to smoke your cigarettes, doesn't care if your also smoking some pot, will tell you stories about when he used to smoke pot in the 70's, will tell you the same story every time about the Ramones concert in Jersey in '78 that he went to with a stripper he used to date. But then when you take a ride with him to the store for an extra can of gravy, the Best of the Eagles is in the CD player. He's only cool when compared to the rest of the dysfunctionally uptight simpletons that are milling about your great aunt's house telling stories of how well their kid is doing at the dog food factory, and spewing their take on the horrors of today's youth, which might directly stem from them rocking rockers, the Eagles. So Cape Canaveral is Uncle Steve. Which is to say, tolerable given the circumstance.

And what really made Florida cool was one Rachel M. Decker. Upon arrival, I was poured a whiskey and shown where the unopened 1.75 liter bottle of Jameson was located. Throughout my stay we finished that bottle. She also treated me to some fine food - fish tacos, crab legs, BBQ pulled pork. And never expected me to put out. Sadly, not even once… And the fact that I stayed at her house for a full six weeks and she didn't stab me in my sleep, might just qualify her for beatification. Seriously tho, she's pretty fantastic. Chill, drinks whiskey, likes punk rock, easy on the eyes, redheaded with a nice figure. And somehow, she's still single. It's quite baffling. So, if you're reading this and know somebody who looks like James Dean with rockabilly sensibilities, point them toward Rachel. They won't be disappointed.

Rach was gone half the time I was there. And that afforded me the opportunity to get some writing done and sort my thoughts on this ill-conceived life I've carved out. And while I didn't get as much done as I would have liked, it was nice not having to worry about the things that normally clog my head like finding enough work and paying bills and such. I also used this time to get in a little better shape. Unfortunately, I haven't lost any weight. But I also didn't gain any, and people would be surprised at how many push-ups and sit-ups my fat ass can do now. I'm not going to win any contests, but it does make me feel better and my body is not as angry with me anymore.

All in all, my trip was pretty great. All my hosts were fantastic. And because of their generosity, my adventure came in at $5 under budget. I couldn't have hoped for a better outcome.

And now I'm back in Chicago and it's time for Corn 2.0. I'm not sure how that's going to work out, but I faith that it will be alright. First things first, make some money. I already have some work lined up and hopefully there's more to come. The sooner that happens, the sooner I can get out of Mindy's basement in Jefferson Park. I'm hoping a situation that I can afford will come about by Memorial Day. That's the plan at least. We'll see what the universe has in store. But it's been pretty good to me as of late, so I'm not too worried about it.