Two Months

On Nov 21, I had vague plans to play guitars with my friend Jason and my other friend Dan. Jason and Dan weren’t very familiar with each other at the time. The day prior, at Goldman Sachs, Dan walked over to the deli where I was slicing corned beef and asked me what was going on. I told Dan that my friend Jason was available to jam the next day. I asked him if he could join. Dan told me that he liked the idea of the three of us getting together and playing guitars. He was available to do that because like me, he had Nov 21st off. In addition to the guitar playing, made food plans. We were going to make a big-ass tray of deviled eggs. I was really excited. But on Nov 21, Dan was off the face of the Earth- not answering any texts or calls. Jason thought we were supposed to meet much earlier…or later, but just not when I thought we were supposed to meet. Nothing happened. The next day at work, Dan said “My phone wasn’t working, I just thought you guys would just show up.”

If this is your first time at SFSF, it’s important to remember that the little boutique grocery store where I work was bought by the major Wall ST firm, Goldman Sachs. Economists have called it a desperate move for a flailing company. Some feel that the purchase of a little foodie store in Somerville, MA is a sure sign of the end. Important thing is, any reference to Goldman’s is where I work. And  it’s important that when you envision Goldman Sachs, that you don’t picture any glamorous high rise in Manhattan. I work in a deli. The building has one real floor and a basement with a low ceiling where I routinely bump my head on pipes before the caffeine is flowing properly through my veins. People laugh if they’re lucky enough to see me bump my head and they see a little cloud of dust sparked by the collision.

Jason and Dan are both really good at playing guitar. (Good in this context means at least a whole lot better than me.) I was excited for them to jam together. What was supposed to happen was, they were to realize that they were long-lost musical brothers, and form a band wherein I was allowed to play simple bass. (I deluded myself into believing that they would benefit from being restricted to playing around my vast deficiencies on the bass. So the band would benefit as a whole. That all helped bolster my excitement.)

This blog is celebrating its Two-Month Anniversary. It was launched on Nov 21.

What happened was I felt sorry for myself for choosing to pick up the bass at age 27. I chose the wrong passion. I’ve determined this a few times over the past year. I sat at my desk with my hands behind my head, staring at the computer. I thought about a couple things I could write about. Back in those autumnal days I’d been thinking of a movie I saw a long time ago called We Were Soldiers and I decided that I didn’t like it. From what I recalled. So I went to the nearest Blog Website and set up SFSF. I wrote two reviews of movies that I vaguely remembered or hadn’t seen entirely. Though what I labored over the most was the About section. Maybe that was because I had no idea what this blog was about other than I better start freaking having things for people to read before I’m 30.

Almost a month later, on December 17, Sarah C. wrote her first masterpiece. She was added, I’ll admit, because I was a little nervous. It sounds silly to say she was added largely for legitimacy reasons, but yeah, she was.  The important thing is Sarah C’s a good writer and she’s here to stay; as far as I’m concerned this blog mess is 50% hers.

Sarah C. is not to be confused with Sarah Beaumont. That did happen a couple times. People said things to me like “Sarah Beaumont writes for the blog?” Sarah Beaumont does not write for the blog but she has read most things and given great feedback, and is a fine person. I like to call her The Beau. Sarah C. is The Biz. I know another Sarah whom I like to call The Boz.

Author: Aaron

Aaron lives in Texas right now.

One thought on “Two Months”

  1. I am bummed that you never did end up making those deviled eggs. D–eggs are bombalicious–a term coined by me that I just knew you would despise.

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