Time to Go Home

Last night after the Celtics - Lakers game LA Larry, 'SSippi' Homer, Big Ears Rosa, and several other drinkers at Franks kept the night burning by catching 'last call' at a nearby karaoke bar. Homer didn't get home until 6am. He looked like a deshucked zombie at the bar tonight.

Too much fun and Homer is nearing 80.

I was glad I was feeling same as him.

I'm not about going out for dawn.

At my age my sin is best hidden from the rest of the world

Chris Rock performs a comedy piece about why men get married.

“You don’t want to end up the old guy at the club.”

The old guy at the club.

At 58 that man could be me, except I have surrendered my long-standing after-hour privileges for the sake of sleep. Not beauty sleep. Just plain old good-fashioned rest. It"s been months since I stayed out late. I was supposed to paint Pattaya 'black' with my old friend, Sam Royalle, except The Thai Police declared a curfew after the Bangkok massacre. Mam said 'go out'. She was in bed with our son. A 2 year-old. She knows what Sam has done for us over the years. I said 'maybe, knowing that Sam gets going late. This evening was no exception.

10pm.

A text message.

Sam was heading for Heaven Above off Walking Street.

A long night of go-go bars and tequila shots. I had done it before.

More than a thousand times.

I texted back that I was already in bed.

I shut off the lights and went to sleep holding Mam.

It was always time to go home with her.