I Have Lost Faith in January

January has proven to be an asshole for the past five years in a row. We lived with illness and loss. Change and uncertainty. I mean, bad things happen in other months, but January has proven to be particularly brutal.

Now, we’re watching the president commit crime after crime and it seems like he’s pretty much getting away with it.

Today is Sunday.

The project I’ve been dreading?

It’s going now and seems to be going well. Of course, a completely different and gut wrenching problem has manifested. Wish me luck when you read this. I’m going to need it.

A few hours remain in the weekend. I’m going to try to shake off as much negative shit as I can and, instead, tell you about lunch yesterday.

Randy and I decided to make the short trip to Covington, KY to visit the Cock and Bull which has the best fish and chips around. Randy is amazing and I love him, but he tends to lean toward the “holy shit, everything will always go wrong” side.

We drove over the bridge and took the first exit to the Main Strasse area in Covington.

Randy: We might have an issue with Cock and Bull

Me: What issue?

Randy: Well, they have a brunch. They’re probably going to be packed.

Me: Well, if they’re packed, we’ll go someplace else.

Randy: We’re never going to find a parking spot.

The Cock and Bull has huge windows. We drove past looking for a parking space and I saw one table with people. 

Me: There’s hardly anyone in there.

Randy: We’re never finding a spot.

Me: There’s one.

We only had to walk two blocks. We grabbed a high top by the front door. There were only two other tables.

We really got there just in time.

Just in time.

We ordered lunch and before we got our drinks, the restaurant filled up with warthogs.

And not cartoon warthogs, like Pumbab, but a motorcycle club called the warthogs. They came from all over because I saw vest after vest with “Indiana chapter” or “Tennessee chapter”. They filled every available space in the restaurant.

Me: I don’t know where to look. I want to stare. I wish I had sunglasses.

Randy: Do not stare.

Me: Guess what song is in my head.

Randy: Stop.

Me: No, really. Guess.

Randy: I have no idea.

Me: C’mon. PeeWee’s Big Adventure?

Randy: Stop.

Me: We need some platform shoes and some bottles to break. We’ll make it out.

Randy, trying not to laugh: Stop.

I made a huge mistake, which had nothing to do with warthogs, only to do with a poor decision.

The Cock and Bull has great fish and chips, but did I order fish and chips? No. I ordered the Reuben.

I mean, the sandwich was okay. The lower bread was mushy and the corned beef a bit rubbery. Randy got the fish and chips. So, at least I had a little. Randy is super good at sharing his food. I guess. I don’t really ask, he doesn’t seem to mind.

We left, which was good, because I was having a super hard time not staring. There were so many tattoos. I am fascinated by people’s skin art and there was just so much. And nearly all the women were wearing black shirts that looked like part of it was shredded by Freddy Krueger.

And they were so happy. I mean, they were super happy to see each other.

Anyway, it’s rude to stare. We left and crossed the street to my favorite consignment shop. I felt lucky. I was going to find something.

I found a cashmere sweater, a vintage costume jewelry necklace and Randy picked out a furry hat with a bill for me. He thinks the hat looks great. Joey said I look ridiculous. They’re both right.

There were some rings in the jewelry case were made from folded up dollar bills.

Me: Oh hey, I remember doing this in junior high.

Randy: You made rings like that?

Me: Well, no. I just knew people who did. I wasn’t that talented.

The store owner told me a homeless dude named Kenny made the rings and sold them there for $4. Kenny got all the proceeds. So, I had to buy one.

My older son, Zach, stopped by after we got home. He said he couldn’t stay long because he and his wife were having a date night. I gave him the dollar bill ring to give to her.

He said she loved it.

It was fun to get away for a little bit and relax.

I’m trying to take some of that warthog goodwill to work with me.

  • You know who isn’t scared of work problems? Warthogs.
  • You know who isn’t going to let January get them down? Warthogs.

So, my plan is to be a warthog. At least in spirit.


Featured image photo by Thomas Rupp on Unsplash

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  • Randy and I have a lot in common. My Dad used to call me “the Devil’s advocate” because I always go to the worst case scenario first.
    Good luck with your new problem and hopefully it will slide off your back easily.
    Warthogs Rule!

  • I’ve been to the Cock & Bull too! That place is amazing. Especially the fish and chips. I didn’t realize the place occasionally filled up with warthogs. I’d be okay with that, though, because I really like warthogs–the real ones, not the artificially cute Pumba ones.
    And on the bright side January is almost over.
    I hope this cheers you up too:

  • My brother was a biker and in general, nobody gets tattoos that they don’t want anyone to look at.
    We have several clubs in the East Bay, including the Hell’s Angels and the historic black club, the East Bay Dragons. I still know a few members of both, but fewer than I used to as I haven’t really run with many outlaws since my stroke. They’re still out there, though.
    I like your hat, and I think I remember a vendor on Telegraph Avenue a long time ago who sold jewelry who made those folded-dollar things. They were Deadheads, if I remember correctly.
    Which reminds me of a story that Mark, a Deadhead who was a good friend once told: He was at a party with a bunch of Deadheads when a few Hell’s Angels with their colors on showed up. One of his Deadhead friends walked up to one of the Angels and said “Can I ask you a question?” to which the biker replied “Is it gonna be a stupid question?” and the room got quiet all of the sudden. Asked what he did when that happened, Mark said “Oh, I just pulled my jacket shut to cover my tie-dye…”
    I predict that you will crush the manifesting project problem, but I’m wishing you some good luck anyway, because good luck is always good to have.
    January is almost gone, and we’re still here… We had to get a harness and a leash for the cat, as he kept getting in trouble with the neighbor’s cat, and he’s not thrilled about it, but it seems to be working.
    The president does have a special sense of the absurd, though, like when he announced that we need to protect Thomas Edison while talking about Elon Musk, whose company is called Tesla…

    • I did fix the problem. I still can’t believe I figured it out. It was fucked and I was dealing with 40 year old code. Nightmare.

      But it’s fixed. It’s all good. My anxiety hasn’t quite acknowledged that yet, but I’m getting there.

      Aww..kitties have such a hard time with change. It took both our cats a year before they seemed to accept their new space when we moved.

  • A great story about a great sunday. I love such a sunday anytime I have one.Good luck at work , the hat is awsome.

  • Warthogs, unite! I posted that shit about maybe liking myself and the Very Next Night, I had to put myself to bed at 7:30 bc I couldn’t stop crying. One day (preferably sooner rather than later) we should meet halfway. We’ll both stare, and probably need someone to babysit us, so bring Randy. And that hat.

  • I am new here. I feel like I am on a radio show and they announce NEW CALLER!
    You had me at ordering a reuben at a fish and chips restaurant.

    I feel like I need to be more of a warthog to get through the rest of winter. Never did I think I would utter a sentence like that.

    Man, I love blogs.

By Michelle


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