Sometimes you get the good chairs in life. Sometimes that's what happens. You walk in, you and your buddy, and no one is sitting in the good chairs. So you sit in them. And it's wonderful. They really are much more pleasant than all the other chairs. And they're yours. Today they're yours. The good chairs. Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's fate. Maybe it's just coincidence. So many days you come in and someone is already sitting in the good chairs. And you hate them, those people, as you sit in inferior chairs and wonder what sin you've committed to deserve such a shitty life. Today, however, you are the happy and lucky object of hatred from all the others in their stupid chairs. It's because you're a better person. Today you're better. In these chairs. The good chairs.
Somewhere in the background Tom Waits is singing, "I hope that I don't fall in love with you." I remember the first time I heard Tom Waits. I was like, "What the hell am I listening to?" He doesn't make the best first impression, Tom Waits. If you're patient, however, and you really listen to him, Tom Waits will win you over. Unless, of course, you're a soulless monster. Maybe you are. Some people are, I suppose. Now you may think I'm being unfair. "People have different tastes," you'll say. "It doesn't mean they're soulless." Just listen to fucking Tom Waits and shut up for a change, please? Why do we always have to fight? Why can't you just trust me? Start with his early stuff and listen to how he develops from the early 70s on through the 80s and beyond. Sure, there's some real crap in there, but there's also so much beautiful genius. Listen to the words, not just the voice. Or don't. Be a monster. I don't care any more.
I hope you get the good chairs, friends. I hope you get the good chairs every day for the rest of your life. Screw all those other people. They wouldn't know good music if Tom Waits came up and bummed a cigarette from them. They don't deserve the good chairs. Not like we do.
Hello, friends. I hope you're comfortable and secure.
Later. Love.
