On turning 30

So you've been burdened with an arbitrary assessment of your oldness, namely, a three in the tens-digit of your age. At times like these its good to take stock and tally the score.

The age test:
1) Hair: Longer than ever
2) Sex: Doing better than highschool
3) Fast cars: Check
4) Rock 'n Roll: Not a Katie Perry fan but Ke$ha's cool...
5) Acting a fool: At least once a week
6) Physical fitness: Why am i always sore when i wake up? (see 2?)
7) Relationship with food: WHY AM I SO SOFT IN THE MIDDLE PARTS?
8) Freedom to run off into the woods: Sure, but it sounds like too much work. Can't I just watch Cougar Town and go to sleep in my comfy OH GOD I'M 30!

Well, there you have it; science, folks and it don't lie. You're acting like a 30 year old. The only solution is a party. Something epic that forever cast a likeness of your youth in the minds of generations to come. It won't be easy but being awesome never is.

First, you're going to need a destination. I choose DC because it was centrally located, offered excellent surroundings and featured access to a luxury apartment. Second and more importantly, you need a crack team of experts to help revisit your youth. This is not about reliving your 20's (remember when you gave hand jobs for grocery money and often spent the night studying in the library?) but instead fiercely focusing on the best parts of life. Rather than blindly carpet bombing and hoping to get luckily, you'll use the wings of experience to carry out a precision strike, hitting only the very best life has to offer. And for this, you'll need people with age and experience but also a flair for crazy.

Our core team consisted of Chesto the Ninja, Stos the Greek, The Physicist, Gay Andrew, C-5 Sally and me, Sophist. This core team was then able to integrate their own, respective peoples, once we were on the ground in DC. The weekend went something like this:


Chesto arrives in Ohio Wednesday night and we immediately start telling lies and drinking beers. We meet up with some locals and entertain them by send a few items into a parallel dimension. Thursday morning we drive east, stopping only in a Pennsylvania J.C. Penny to buy button up shirts so we'll blend in with the DC natives. We arrive just in time to meet the others + extras at a semi-posh DC restaurant. We drink, we eat, we refresh and we retire after a long day of travel, ready to start the weekend.

Friday Chesto, myself and Gay Andrew set off to explore. (Editors Note: As far as i know, Gay Andrew doesn't have an actual alias and is in fact married to a woman. But once a man has grabbed at my crotch more than twice my brains goes about automatically filing him in the following format: {name}, Gay) Are travels would take us to the White House, Lincoln Memorial, various war monuments and most importantly, the Washington Monument, where we would meet The Greek.

Stos the Greek is a mountain of a man: Larger than life and twice as hairy. He lives vicariously through himself, his beard alone has experienced more than lesser men's entire body and he knows this town inside out. Now that the crew was falling into place it seemed obvious that we would strike right for the heart of the city. We made our way to the Pentagon.

HOLY SHIT THEY LET US INSIDE THE PENTAGON. I could tell you about it, but they'd cut my thumbs off. lets just say we lounged in the middle part.

Having penetrated the government's 5-sided center, we rallied and caught up with C-5 Sally (who isn't a figurative Sally but is a literal Sally). The core group was together at last so we grabbed the bag of fancy cigars that someone had gifted us (surely after hearing about our awesome) and made haste for the wood-lined, leather bound cigar bar called Kelly's Back Room. There we drank stiff drink and smoked full bodied cigars. It was Friday night and the weekend was in full effect. A warming happiness swept over us as we lounged, puffed and marveled at how far we'd come. And we still had Saturday ahead of us!

I can't really describe Saturday. It warrants a book. I choose to fall back on lists:

Boob Cup Cakes: I think this will be a yearly birthday tradition now. I. LOVE. CUP CAKES. also, i love boobs. There it is. I'm an adult, and i want a delicious cake product that reminds me of breasts. you know what else? Other people love boob cup cakes too. it's true, even girls. It makes them think about all the great times they've had with their own boobs, i think. Plus, it's a cup cake. Are you writing this down?

The metro: It's awesome until it breaks

Pre-partying: This is where the size of our party became obvious. 12 people? 16? I don't even know but there was more girls than guys and that makes both sexes happy. More importantly, every single person in our group was a rock star. I'm talking above average, good looking, funny, smart and probably trained to kill. Editors Note to the Physicist: In the future, please refrain from offering viewing of my tattoos to anymore strange women. I have a very specific and proven technique that needs to be followed, thus allowing me to negotiate a beneficial arrangement. You can find my work in the "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" section of the library.

Kelly's Irish Pub: They get good you drunk. Also find cell phone morning.

If i had to sum up Saturday, it would look something like this:



Sunday we ate at the Capital City Cafe and revisited the events of the weekend. "Did that really happen?" "Yes."


So there ya go. 30 ain't so bad when you and your friends are awesome.


Fortunately, the madness didn't end there. Following the weekend above was the actual observance of my First Annual 29th Birthday, which happened mid-week. Then there was picking up of the Physicist's new-used car. (I'll give you a hint: its turbo, its a wagon, its got a 5spd, its Swedish and its mine by proxy.) And the week following will find us exploring Oregon and winning at weddings.

After all that I've got that college thing I do.




Editor's Final Note: Since free time is so precious and scattered, i typically write these lengthier posts over a long period, revisiting them until the product is saleable. I was looking back through the archives and realized a few drafts existed that never made it to print. Here's one from the first half of 2009 that I titled "Trying to remember"

Friday
Sending out work reports at 8pm
Live music at bar number 1
Dancing at bar number 2
Arrival of physics consultant
Drinking beer of the month
Going to bed at 4
waking up at 10
Zehnders of Frankenmuth chicken dinner

I'm pretty sure i remember this weekend; Not a bad life. It probably never made it off the drawing board because the stories weren't particularly noteworthy in anyway other than an attempt to document an average good weekend. I Also have one from even further back called "online dating profile" where i constructed an online dating profile that would represent what i WANTED to say about myself, but it was a little too dark for prime time. Maybe someday I'll publish that too.

Its been a while since I've done one of these rambling, multi-topic posts

Even longer since I've done one drunk. Let's go:

"You can't stop the signal Mal." Wikileaks wins again.



In other news, WTF is going on in Winona? Wildman, Timbo, I'm looking in your directions.

Here's a story. I was cleaning out the garage the other day because I'm all domestic and shit now. (also, she beats me) Basically the final step is using the BFGlf (BIG FUCKING GAS leaf blower). It was supposed to be used to supercharge a ghetto race car, but in the mean time there's no reason it can't be blowing dust off the work bench. Anyway, i came across these:



Apparently this garage is where beautiful things come to die. This explains the 1986 Supra slowly rotting in the driveway.

{single tear}

That's all for this week. Remember kids, the slow sword penetrates the shield

This is good information to have re: Mexican Gov. and my plan to build a sail boat on their beaches.

emoticon gender benders

I was on the Playstaion Network (Yes, i play playstation it helps clear my brain STOP JUDGING ME!) and within certain games, people are able to put "tags" in front of their names, limited to 4 characters. You see a lot of interesting stuff ,like the lawnmower

\.=.

The pistol

%"""

all manner of middle finger (which look better in font-type other than this)

o0oo
n0nn

an assortment of male genitalia and female frontal parts

{use imagination}

this week i saw one that didn't immediately make sense. And like a vanity license plate with no vowels, it sent my brain spiraling into a vortex of analysis... I believe it looked somethingng like this:

-32=

I'm quite certain of the lat three characters but the first is a little fuzzy. Something like that, however. After several zetaflops of calculation, a couple beers of lubrication and an hour or so of eliminating digital terrorists, my brain was only able arrive at one conclusion:

Its a transvestite.

I mean look at it. The parts are all there. They're blown out of proportion, not unlike a caricature, but that's what these preteen n00bs are going for, right? And the limit on characters meant the head had to be cut off, but it's all there, man, in black and white, OPEN YOUR EYES.

Of course, in the light of day and away from the passion of the moment, i can see it is also, perhaps, construed as a face.

Here i have redrawn it to include a hat.

<32=


I don't know, maybe identifying patterns in these things is like looking for shapes in clouds.

Okay, here's another one

I have this friend, let's call him Jennifer. (protect the innocent and all that)

This guy has a lot of random stories but i like the one of the crazy voicemail girl the best. I'm not exactly clear on the details surrounding how it all started but many years ago he got a call on his cell from a number he didn't know. It went to voicemail and this random caller, a girl, proceeded to leave him a voice message as if they were long lost friends catching up and had known each other for ages. Except he doesn't know her. He's sure of it. He doesn't recognize the name, voice, back story or know anyone from that area code.

This continues for years. Like 10 of them, maybe? every so often she calls, often in the middle of the night, he doesn't answer and she leaves a rambling, update of a voicemail. As such, time marches on, he gets married, has kids, he tells everyone about this random woman because its a great story but the phone calls eventually die off. (Did she die of crazy disease? Eaten by lions? run over while hopping on a west-bound trian? who knows) Then, a couple months ago, another phone call. For some reason he decides to answer this time, leading with the quite obvious: "WTF mate?"

Turns out she dialed the wrong number that first time so long ago and at the sound of his voicemail voice, decided to just start talking. From then on she used his inbox as something of a non-permanent diary; A way to unburden herself and recount the ups and downs of the years and whatnots.


We should all be so lucky to have a crazy cell-phone stalker.

Trying to explain: pt 1

Michigan:

I spent the weekend of the 4th in America's most underrated city, Detroit. I managed to check almost all the boxes necessary for a successful Detroit visit:

Sleep at Stos' house: Check
Harassed by the suburban police: Check
Illegal Fireworks: Check
Royal Oak: Check
Cruise Woodward: Check
Harassed by homeless guy for driving a Miata: Check
Challenged to a stoplight race by pick-up truck: Check
Freeways of construction: Check
Both sides of family: Check
Seedy Strip Club: N/A due to funding
Vehicular maintenance: Check
5am at an all night, private downtown bar: Check
Hanging out with Greeks: Check

Did that just happen?

Events of the past three weeks have left me struggling to sort out the details of my reality. Did all those things just happen? Did two Yoopers (and their respective lovers) visit Ohio in back-to-back weeks? Was I really at an underground Detroit after hours bar at 5am? Do I spend my day's toiling in a dim lab tucked away in a half-abandoned 80yr old building, tweaking circuits... or did i imagine that part?

Look, there was like TENS of THOUSANDS of motorcycles there. Wait, I have a motorcycle and a convertible but nothing big enough to transport a lawn mower?


How did I break the lawn mower?



When did i get a lawn?





...



I'm almost 100% sure i Kareoked Big Balls by AC/DC.




(Who in an S-10 would try to drag race a Miata? Oh Detroit, I've missed your crazy ways)

From McSweeney's

There's too much uncertainty in the world these days, too many things we can't count on anymore. That's why I think you'll be happy to hear there's a 100% chance that I'll be taking my clothes off tonight.

We're in the midst of a classic tale, you and I. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl go to Applebee's. Boy exposes himself to girl. Sorry if that's not how dates end in your prudish ivory tower, but this isn't about you, it's about trying to get this night back on track and make things right.

You want to see what thirty-five minutes of elliptical machine a month can do to a man's body? You're about to. You want to cradle me in your capable arms and tell me everything's going to be okay? That can also be arranged.

It's called spontaneity if you're not familiar with the term. Another term you should familiarize yourself with is psoriasis. My inner thighs look like relief maps of South America. Sorry if that makes you uneasy, but life isn't always neatly wrapped up in a little box with a pretty bow. Sometimes that little box has a patchy skin disease that flares up without any goddamned warning.

Fact: you are throwing me more signals than a third base coach who's trying to have sex with me. Fact: I am reading you loud and clear and I'm heading straight for home, unencumbered by garments. Don't let playful euphemisms like that lull you into thinking I'm keeping my clothes on, because that's not an option at this point. Mentally, I'm already very naked. It's just a baby step from here.

Look, no one said dating was going to be easy. The sooner you come to grips with that, the sooner you can let your guard down and start exploring my body like a budding archeologist who just unearthed a terra cotta warrior. A warrior whose armor and undergarments appear to have eroded over time. Whoopsy-daisy.

Enough talk. It's time to check your inbox because there's an invitation to an epidermis party. It's from me. No need to RSVP, you're already here. And so's my body. If you need to brush up on some old biology curriculum, now's your chance because it's about to get anatomical up in here, and I don't have time to explain to you how my body works.

We're moments away from doing the kinds of things we couldn't have done if I kept my clothes on. It's like those final seconds of anticipation before a thunderstorm. But no slicker's going to protect you from this nasty forecast. It's about to rain three to four inches of me. Possibly five, but I can't promise anything.

source

I would buy a t-shirt

...but if Dues was selling them they'd be $95.00 and only come in one size

sigh

Yesterday i got this:


from Eric Walkinshaw
date Fri, Jun 4, 2010 at 10:15 AM
subject Fwd: Ohio needs your help...


Mike is right about this one. This is America and if you want to live here, learn English. And the Mexican already know that drunk driving is a crime. The police don't need to advertise it!

An America Patriot

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Mike Jordan
Date: Thu, Jun 3, 2010 at 10:49 PM
Subject: Ohio needs your help...
To: Mike Jordan


If this doesn’t offend you, you are NOT a true AMERICAN!

This is the only one left up as of this evening that I know of...someone tore down the one that was posted across the street from PNC on 741.
I’m guessing it will only be a matter of time before someone tears this one down, I hope so anyway.

This is CRAZY! The last time I looked this was STILL AMERICA!
I was SO furious, I stopped into the Miami Township Police Department and let them know as an American I was totally offended by this and this was unacceptable.
Anyway, I let them no with out any doubt that I was going to posts this and any other images they put up like this on the internet, send it to Congressman Mike Turner and anyone else that will listen.
Also that I was going to get together a group of people an protest the Miami Township Police Department until they took these signs down.

So PLEASE send this to any and everyone you know of that is proud to be an American... Are you ready for this???? Check out the officers they told me to contact to complain to...kinda ironic huh?

CALL THIS OFFICER AND LET HIM KNOW THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE IN OHIO!
Major Di Piezero
937-433-2418.

If you are offended by this as much as I am, please make your voice heard, call and let them know!

Also, it wouldn’t hurt to write Mike Turner as well.
http://www.turner.house.gov/Contact/

As I’ve always said...if no one speaks up, it will only get worse because if you don’t speak up now, one day you’ll wake up and wonder what happened. By that time it will be too late to have your voice heard.

Wake up people...not only did we get the health care shoved down out throats, they will enforce this on us as well unless we stop it!

Thanks
Mike


This photo was taken at the Miami Township Police Department this evening 6-3-2010.

(Sophist says: Imagine a photo here of an ANTI Drunk Driving banner written in Spanish)


******************************************************************
Today i sent this


from Sophist@sophist.address
to Eric Walkinshaw
date Sat, Jun 5, 2010 at 8:24 PM
subject Re: Ohio needs your help...
mailed-by gmail.com

Patriot Eric,

I don't know you and you don't know me, but it seems we've exchanged emails in the past. I've read what you forwarded me here, considered the call to action and would like to offer a counter proposal. Instead of everyone going batshit crazy over a poster, why don't you open your eyes to the shit that matters in Ohio and champion something worthwhile?

Here's a good one:
http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2010/06/02/ohio-supreme-court-speed-estimate-valid.html?sid=101

Here's another:
http://gizmodo.com/5553765/are-cameras-the-new-guns

I guess I'm too simple to understand why i should care about a banner on a fence when everyday I'm inundated with examples of stupid and pointless laws born of this mentality; Imagined security from a piece of paper, created because someone's delicate sensibilities were offended. More fuel for a painful bureaucracy and, in other cases, the eroding away of my freedom to be left alone. Or like the two examples above, another nail in the coffin of "Innocent until proven guilty." You know, the stuff that *should* have people rioting in the streets.

Anyway, having found Mike's work insightful and inspiring, I've taken a cue from its originality and decided to forward your email to everyone in my contact list. I've described how you're out of control and need to be stopped and encouraged them to contact you directly so we can put a stop to the madness. I mean, last time i checked, I thought this was 'Merica?

-Patriot (Sophist's real name)

P.S.
My $125 offer for the muffler still stands.


*************************************************

UPDATE!


From: Eric Walkinshaw
Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2010 20:52:20 -0400
To: Curt Zackiewicz
Subject: Re: Ohio needs your help...

Well I'm not surprised that a motorhead like you would be offended by the idea that a police officer can judge the speed of a car by sight. In fact, I agree that the speed of a car can be determined reasonably accurately by a trained observer. Of course, guys like you want to go speeding around in your cars. BTW, I sold the muffer to another clown. Did I mention that I considered most of the MX-5 crowd a bunch of fags?

Ciao



Editor's note: i think i understand now the enjoyment trolls get out of being internet trolls.

Motorcycle Update

When i first dropped pictures of the reworked bike it was, as it turns out, mostly show and very little go. The carb tuning was a train wreck and required some fiddling that i didn't have the time for. Today i finally stole away enough ticks to put the last couple hours in to get it sorted (turns out the key is ZERO washer spacers). With the insights of people from around the Midwest, it now pulls hard, runs a little less "smooth," often smells of hydrocarbons and in general wreaks of badass-ary.



Here it is without the side cover reinstalled and sporting the tank bag that doubles as a high-speed chest cushion.



It's not exactly where i'd like it to be and at WOT still has the slightest hint of hesitation in the 5 to 6k range but i think i've tuned the carbs as close as these factory parts will allow. In other words, the resolution of the problem is too fine to eliminate. In other, other words, its good enough.

Also, the breather is spewing a bit of oil, the paint on the tank peeled off where it was touching the tank bag (after leaving it out in the sun one day) and the air filters seem awfully loose, though I've yet to lose one with 200 miles of riding. In short: it's completely awesome, full of character and far exceeds my expectations for this project.

I can't get enough of this

Shopping while ill

My associate (that is, one of my many, many (and often anonymous) lovers) has left on business for the summer and as a going away present gave me her virus-born cold. (Kisses!)

Without drugs or food supplies, step one was to go out into the world and restock the wolf den. (I am a wolf pack of one now. HOOOWWWLLL!)

I've experienced this intriguing scenario before so I'm not sure why it always surprises me but when I'm stocking up on drugs my ability to make wise money decisions is completely felled. I start by pouring myself into the car and driving through the summer rain to Kroger, because i know if has a Starbucks kiosk and that's the only way I'm going to shake off the NyQuil fog long enough to operate the shopping cart. First (post Bucks) stop: the medicine isles. Immediately my weakened mental state comes into play; Sweet, enjoyable and laughable Ricola cough drops or dirty-deeds-done-dirt-cheap Halls? I take both. Also some pills to loosen phlegm. Then more NyQuil, enough to host a party of Bird Flu patients and also some Advil. Burt's Bees, mouth wash, toe of newt, ankle sling, wart remover, eye drops, what is this... pregnancy test? better throw it in... I'm like the fat man running the bonus round on 80's games show Super Market Spree.

Next the fruit, bananas and strawberries, everything else takes too much preparation. This is when i start making "outside the box" purchases. Freshly baked blueberry muffins? Lady if you take that last package i will LICK YOUR FACE TWO TIMES. I think she can see the virus coursing through the veins in my eyes.

Cereal: Two boxes in case it gets worse and i can't drive myself around later.

Oreos: these are always a 50/50 chance of finding their way into my cart based on an intricate algorithm that considers worldly pulses such as how i've felt the week previous, whether i'm up or down in the fitness battle and how the Asian stock market is responding to the tech sector. Today the tech sector is doing well. Two packs.

Cat food: Do i have a cat or really know anyone that does? No, but it's raining and maybe i'll pass on a stray on the way home... Better get two cans.

Yogurt, ice cream, 300 lunchables, a king's assortment of cheeses, fancy juices, canned soup, sewing needles for acupuncture, leaches, crackers, tissues, and... Potato chips. Never, since college, have i bought potato chips when shopping solely for myself. I'm now acting like a pregnant drug addict and what? they sell ping pong balls in the beer section now? I'm going to have to entertain myself for the next few months.

...

How did i spend $115 on groceries that fail to fill 1/3 of a Miata trunk?





BONUS SAVINGS TIME: There are ants coming out of my laptop. Is this really happening or did I mix NyQuil with DayQuil again?

At lunch today

For lunch today I was seeking a peaceful, reflective setting with some soul and something captivating to gaze upon. As i work in the Xurbia of the midwest, this is almost unobtainable so I opted for the deli down the street.

I sat in the corner of the corner table with 3 other tables in my section. Slowly, each filled with a couple. The first was two business men wearing loafers and khakis, with blue button up shirts. The noisy one was spouting on about the bad business decisions that someone in the company by the name of Curt had made. Or maybe it was Curt that was going to finally straighten things out. Either way, this conversation continued to catch my attention even when i tried to focus away, due to the audio que. The 30-something noisy one was opinionated seemed to enjoy his own voice and I immediately labeled him as someone i would avoid in the office; weasely. He was speaking to a peer of equal rank but slightly older. He looked more distinguished, with some grey hair, and seemed more reflective and objective, but agreeable enough to keep the conversation moving. I had seen this situation play out in my own life too many times to be interested.

At the second table was a man and a woman, early to mid 30's, with sexual tension. She was a natural red-head with long, slightly curly hair wearing jeans and red flannel. She was naturally good looking but gave the impression of having been raised on a farm or maybe was a tom boy growing up, since her looks were almost entirely a result of good luck and he was way out of his league. He looked and sounded generic; khakis and tennis shoes, a zip up fleece and cookie-cutter haircut. He was slim and unathletic and mostly quiet while she was an engaging, full-bodied speaker. I'm pretty sure he knew he was out-classes too, as he spent the lunch with one hand on his drink and one hand in his pocket (while sitting down!) perhaps constantly searching for his next sentence fragment. They spoke of the other night in the bar, perhaps when the met? I think friends of friends. In the light of day he seemed to offer little, mostly sitting back, staring straight ahead while she was leaning forward and swaying in her chair with the inflection in her stories.

The third table was an older man with an early middle-aged woman. A father and Daughter, I think, or maybe even Grandfather. The old man looked old, weathered, grey and wrinkled. She was considerably younger, but still had his resemblance. They were catching up, but for maybe just a week's time; maybe this was a weekly lunch date? He was intriguingly vibrant for what appeared to be his age. It seems like most people (sometimes myself included, though not on purpose) talk to seniors with a slow and slightly condescending voice but she was almost absent of that (though she did speak a *little* slower and more staccato than seemed natural, she didn't have to dumb-down her vocabulary). They talked about so-and-so's new job and the overtime she wasn't receiving and what's-her-name's failed search through the obituaries for a lost friend. Throughout the conversation I was intrigued by how quickly his mind worked and hoped the same for myself in 60 years.

Last weekend i attended another wedding. Mostly it was like the others: fancy shoes -> god -> drinks -> food -> drinks -> dancing -> drinks -> {memory not found} -> how did i end up back at my hotel room?

I love weddings.

One noteworthy part was when the non-denominational Christian preacher started quoting the move Rocky, setting the scene up and describing the conversation from each character's point:

Paulie: [talking about Adrian, his sister] You like her?
Rocky: Sure, I like her.
Paulie: What's the attraction?
Rocky: I dunno... she fills gaps.
Paulie: What's 'gaps'?
Rocky: I dunno, she's got gaps, I got gaps, together we fill gaps.

Of course the movie, being more true to life than his sermon, has three additional lines that were left un-said:

Paulie: Are you ballin' her?
Rocky: Hey!
[punches Paulie in the shoulder]
Rocky: You don't talk dirty about your sister!

The real Conan

Last week i found the most awesomest car for sale at a super low price and then the guy decided he wanted to keep it.


...sigh...


Arizona: I'm strangely in love with the idea of states making their own crazy laws about issues that they find regionally important. Maybe i WANT a state in the union where it's legal to walk around with no pants. Just sayin'. For every Arizona there will probably be a "live free or die" state and the pendulum always swings. I'm more concerned about this idea of a homogeneous country the man keeps peddling.

Finally, another of the few remaining good pieces is lost

another 24

It's all over but the cryin'

Race car blog

for those who wonder

these are not my works of poetry. They are a product of your turn of the (last) century American slavery. My failure to cite is a direct result of my, well, failing to cite.

would have been a great megadeath song

WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

why not continue the theme?

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America.

and now for something completely different

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?