Pour some sugar and shut up about it

I still hold to my grade school assertion that my life would be much better if everything I did had musical accompaniment. Well almost everything.

Putting my kids to bed doesn’t need a rock song in the back ground.

I live in a very quiet neighborhood. Like I get irked when my neighbors sit in their backyard and chat using their inside voices. There’s just not that much going on.

Except once or twice a month in the summer.

Last night was one of those nights. As soon as it was starting to get dark I started hearing country-rock echoing off of the mountains. This wasn’t the first time, and there’s a couple bars a ways up the road so I always assumed the two were related.

Now I’m a pretty chill and reasonable guy. I understand that I am old and lame and that there are cool happening people who don’t need me harshing their buzz, or whatever it is guys like me do to guys like them.

I don’t want to think about how much cooler my life would be if I spent it at raging party with loud music instead of threatening small people with less screen time. So in the past I mostly just ignored these intrusion to my quiet time in between putting my kids down and putting my noise canceling headphones on. But yesterday I had a chance to learn more that I just had to take.

After I forced my kids to lay quietly and stop asking who wants them to “Come sail away with them” I got ready to do the most risky and edgy thing I do these day, go running at night.

This don’t consider this dangerous because of low visibility. I run early enough there should be anyone drunk enough to drive on the sidewalk. School’s out for the summer so every night I have to run through at least two or three groups of pre teens playing night games. You can’t get the smell of that awkwardness out of a pair of gym shorts.

Anyway, this night I figured I run to the bar and check out this happening party that was making my life a little more country and a fair bit more rock and roll.

As I was running there, I couldn’t help but picture what I’d see. A scene of drunken revelry, enough to let me live vicariously for a few moments as I ran past.

What I saw broke my heart.

It was a rocking party. It was barely a party. It was twenty or so people older and more boring than me staring unimpressed at a band that sounded worse and worse the closer you got to them.

At first it made me sad. Then it made me mad.

If I’m going to be inconvenienced and annoyed. I want to be by happy people.

Do me a favor, if your party is going to suck, close it up by bedtime.

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