Signs of the Times, Issue No. 251 - 03/12/13

Yeah... that wasn't me. That was Austin. But it was nice to meet you, anyway.

Greetings to one and all and welcome to another undoubtedly memorable blog. My name is Aaron, but I suppose you all already knew that or you wouldn't be reading. Here's another chance for you to marvel at my amazing life or something along those lines or whatever you people do with the blog these days. Read it, burn it in the streets, use it for lining in your birdcage... Who knows? Certainly not me. Topics to be discussed today: The incredible inconvenience caused by going without a credit or debit card for two weeks and a few other things, but mostly that. Seriously, it's, like, really not as easy as it used to be. All I wanted to do the other day was use my free Redbox code! That's it! But NOOOOO!!! No, no, no. I couldn't do that now, could I have? Of course not. It's the American banking system! They're controlling our lives by making us hopelessly dependent upon those little tiny pieces of plastic! AHHHHHHH!! Ok, before I get too worked up, let's get this show on the road. (Really, though, I hope this blog doesn't get too out of hand because of the paranoia that has subsided in me knowing that if I were to get mugged right now somebody could steal my life's savings - in CASH!!! NOOOOO!!!!!" Ok. Deep breaths. On we go.

I mentioned last week that I was the victim of identity theft recently, which has rendered me card-less for the past little bit. The bank told me that it would take about a week for my new credit and debit cards to be mailed to me. However, I have yet to receive them, so that's been an adventure. I've come to realize how truly valuable and useful those little pieces of plastic are and how difficult it is to go without them for long periods of time. It's like I've been transported back into a simpler time - a time before debit cards... And, you know, it got me thinking. I harkened back to the days of Henry David Thoreau and his experience at Walden Pond. So do you know what I did? I went and built myself a treehouse and decided to live there for an entire week. I secluded myself from all the fame and the obsessed fans and lived up in a tree for the past seven days, completely free from the technological wonders and worries presented by modern-day living. It was an interesting, soul-searching experience for me and I wrote a poem about it. I would like to share it with you now.

It's a work in progress, ok? Rhyme Time.

Here I am. In a tree.
There's nobody here but little old me.
I'm up in the sky. I live without cares.
I don't shave my face. I don't do my hairs.
I've brought up some clothes. I don't have much food.
I try to stay positive without being rude.
(To myself, of course. There's no one else here.
Just me and the birds and occasional deer.)

It's cold in the morning. It's warmer at noon.
I like it up here. Won't be coming down soon.
I don't know the time but I don't want a clock.
I'm a man out of time and I know that I rock.
In this tree I'm the boss and I'm living my life
The best that I can with a Swiss Army Knife.
I've escaped all my fans! They think I'm a jerk.
But getting up here was significant work.

It took me a while with these boards and those nails
To make my treehouse, though it's still lacking rails -
It's really not bad if I'm not near the edge.
(If I fell from the tree, I'd just land in the hedge.)
That is one thing that I'll try to prevent.
I don't want a near-death-inducing event.
So I sit in the middle wearing pants and a shirt
And I try to do things that will not get me hurt.

Sometimes I whittle and sometimes I sew
Using thread that I stole from some people I know.
I've done push-ups and sit-ups, then charted the stars
And I enjoy the silence (no neighbors, no cars).
When I'm totally bored, I've been writing a book.
It's coming out soon if you'll all take a look.
For now, I write poems I'll post in my blog.
My blog is my friend. I've no need for a dog.

'Tis a glorious thing, my living alone,
For I sit 'round all day on my wood tree house throne.
I've escaped all the psychotic fans I've amassed
And I now live in peace without being harassed.
Is it sad? Am I glum as I live in my tree?
"No I'm not, I proclaim," with my best friend, Craig T.

We're sitting here chatting and roasting some S'mores

And intensely procrastinating all of our chores.

Things could be worse. We're not that bad off

As we look to the ground - Here come Donny and Hoff!

My true friends are coming. They'll live in my tree!

We're on top of the world in the Land of the Free!

What a good, jolly gang hiding out in the leaves.

We talk movies and dating and all our pet peeves.

Donny dressed like a biker (without the bandana).

Lo, and behold, here comes Jones (Indiana)!

I lower a rope in the form of a ladder

To hoist up my friend, a big whipper and hatter.

He brought food! He brought food! Oh, what a relief.

I could skip out on hunting and save myself grief.

I try to avoid it. It's not that I'm scared.

I'm brave but I'm simply just not that prepared.

In terms of my hunting, I think that I'm cursed.

You all know the story - The deer hit me first.

The next day is grand. Yes, it's all that I need.

Don't need no more Facebook, its stupid News Feed.

It was quite the morning we had on that day.

It left us all speechless with nothing to say.

See, Donny was singing and Hoff, did he model!

And Indy hit Craig in the head with a bottle.

I sat there, hysterical. Laughing to death.

My face, it was red. I was gasping for breath.

I passed out (so they told me). They splashed me with water.

The day had gone on, for the sun it was hotter.

I was helped to my feet, though I stumbled (the klutz!).

I was feeling quite loopy and acting quite nuts.

Yelling and whooping! Telling my jokes!

This was such a strange time with these other four blokes.

A rain dance I did as I dressed like a shaman.

My readers would hate it. (We've nothing in common.)

When at long last I snapped out of that crazy trance,

My pulse was much slower after stopping the dance.

I had serious problems. Cried the Hoff, "Isolation!"

My friends were all leaving the once A-Town Nation.

They got off their bums and they slid down the chutes.

They stomped off through my garden and trampled my roots.

My eyes gathered water, my face like a stone.

They were all really leaving. I was really alone.

It was me. Only me. So I laid there and thought.

Would they never come back? What a sickening thought.

The good times were ending, my memories past.

They always had told me good things couldn't last.

It was sad as it hit me, depressed to the core.

I had hope my true friends would crawl back here for more.

I knew that it all would eventually end,

But I still took my book and its pages did rend.

The Times would be changing. I'd go into hiding.

I'd never re-publish my personal writing.

I would stay up there, lonely and starting to cry.

To the blogging world this was my heartfelt goodbye.

I sulked in the flood of my tears and defeats

'Til I woke entangled in my own bed sheets.

So...... I guess that was all just a really weird dream or something. But, um, yeah. That was getting intense. I just got a phone call from Craig T asking what time dinner was at this Friday and inquiring as to how I prefer my steak to be cooked, so we're all good. I actually do have some friends out there, it appears. Good old Craig T. He never lets me down.

A couple quick things before I peacefully end this conflict known as "Signs of the Times, Issue No. 251":

The Shoutout of the Week goes to my sister, Amy, who submitted her mission papers earlier this week. That's awesome. Congratulations. If you don't get called Spanish-speaking, I'm never writing you. A co-Shoutout goes to my little nephew, Joshua, who turned two years old on Sunday. I found an awesome sweatshirt at WalMart that was apparently, for some unthinkable reason, on clearance and I picked it up for a dollar. It said "LEAGUE OF CHAMPIONS" on it with the number 11 and a fearsome-looking tiger with an eye patch. I mean, how can you pass that up?? I think it's awesome and my co-worker has told me multiple times that it is the very definition of, well, uh... "bad$&@," if you know what I mean. That's good, right?

So awesome.

In other news, I think I saw two people from the Amish mafia walking down the street the other day. That was both exciting and terrifying all at once.

And finally... I was at this birthday party for a distant relative the other day (apparently my mom's cousin, once-removed or some such nonsense). Whilst there mingling (AKA trying to blend in with the padded cultural hall walls, some lady that is also somehow distantly related to me came up, smiling, as many old people do, and greeted me by saying, "Oh, I recognize you from your wedding announcement!" .........

..........

......................................

"Oh!" I responded, trying not to make things more awkward than they already were. I tried to back away slowly toward the birthday cake. Thankfully my mom was there to save the day and get me out, scott-free. "This is my son, Aaron. He's still single. You're thinking of his younger brother, Austin." My eyes widened and, at that point, I made a bee-line for the cake table to drown my sorrows in strawberries and frosting.

That's about it for this week, kiddos. I better get out of here before any other embarrassing misunderstandings about my marital status come to light. So, um. Peace out, home dawgs.

Until next Time,

Move It. Sell It. And Leave the Door Open.

Aaron