The Allman Brothers To The Rescue (Again)

I'm driving to work yesterday - 07/04/13 - fully prepared to be furious and maniacally depressed.

I wanted and expected to feel bad - figured I could draw on a wealth of despair and self pity to spew in here. Figured a July 4th commute had to be exponentially worse than a Sunday commute.

I despise the Sunday commutes.

But

It was 76 degrees at 8:00 a.m. as I negotiated the road in The Peace Mobile. I am comfortable with heat. I require warmth from the inside out. This is probably the only week in 2013 when I will feel physically comfortable.

Knowing my mode of transportation in advance, I chose a couple of CD's to insert into The Magic Music Machine for the commute. Randomly came across an Allman Brothers CD - Seven Turns - that I haven't listened to in a while.

Also chose Riding With The King - Eric Clapton and B.B. King.

Formidable weapons indeed.

Windows down, heat percolating, coffee being sipped, Allman Brothers LOUD - I was into the drive. Spectacular heat amplified sunshine slashing into my eyeballs - very little activity on the road.

Peace of a bizarre mutation.

The ride was great. The next eleven hours were not. An 8:30-7:30 shift. Just me and the boss. All the part timers refused to work because The NH State Liquor Commission has a consistent policy of exploiting and abusing part timers (and attempting to intimidate full timers). No extra pay. No thanks at all.

I know. I was there just 4 short months ago.

I expected it to be a laboriously slow death. I wrote death instead of day. I swear to Christ that happened without thought. That is hilarious. Anyway I expected a slow day. I forgot to factor in the world as it is in 2013.

261 people came into The Asylum lusting for booze.

Interesting social experiment. People of my generation consistently said "I cannot believe you are open today." Ironic of course because they were there purchasing booze.

But there was incredulous sympathy. That comment often followed by "and I can't believe you are open until 7:00 p.m."

Young people pranced into the store like they owned the joint. I guarantee you they never gave a second's thought to the possibility that we would be closed.

No expressions of sympathy, no human kindness at all.

Because that is the world in 2013.

The greedy and abusive NH State Liquor Commission closes their stores on only three days a year. Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter.

And I'm sure in the future that list will be shortened.

I had eleven hours to reflect how painfully I have sold my soul in four short months.

I do not believe in working on Sundays. I don't believe in working on holidays.

Yes I get paid OT to do it. I know some wise ass is going to come in here and lecture me. I don't care about the goddamn money. I would have rather been home with my lovely, heat exhausted wife. Maybe gone out for ice cream and fireworks.

The liquor commission reflects delicious irony in their P&P which states "it is not mandatory for any employee to work on Sundays or holidays but managers are subject to disciplinary action if the store goes unstaffed and unopened."

Talking out of both sides of their mouth. As is their way.

Many decades ago stores were closed on Sunday. Banks were closed on Saturday and Sunday.

I know. This was in my lifetime.

People survived. People were only death stressed five days a week as opposed to the seven that is now the accepted norm.

The day ground by. It was long.

Slowhand and B.B. serenaded me on the ride home. Again, windows down, music LOUD, cruising through stifling July 4th heat now damn close to 90, couple of Crown Royal nips in place of coffee.

Pretty good drive.

I don't know if I could have maintained my sanity (?) without kick starting the day with The Allman Brothers Band.

Small things create huge impact.

It was essentially an eleven hour shit sandwich stuck between two serene commutes.

And the commutes made all the difference.