Singin' in the Rain

Wow. Apparently I stumbled upon a bible-thumpin' teen felon! G'mornin' neighbor!

"But JoBiv," you say, "It's not raining!" No, not currently. Saturday morning, however, was heavenly with rain. I like the first few autumn showers - the ones that have some backbone. They make all the remaining flowers and foliage perk a bit for a last hoorah. And I get to wear my favorite red-hooded sweatshirt (rammalammadingdong), and carry an umbrella. All good things.

Saturday morning... okay, Saturday afternoon, I made some excuse to go to Liquors Foods. Now, if you have never visited me in my current apartment (and this includes a long list of people, including my own brothers, David Blouin, Sean Connery and Prince William), you may not know about Liquors Foods. Let me explain. Boston and Brookline service their population rather well with a plethora of convenience stores. Mostly they are hidden behind the few gas stations in town, but a true city convenience store has nothing to do with a gas station. Am I right? 7 Eleven, City Convenience, and Stowah Twenny Fowah (Store 24) get the job done right. They are cramped, understocked, and run by the mentally ill.

Not that I have anything against the mentally ill. I consider myself in allegiance with them.

So, there's a Stowah Twenny Fowah across the street from my apartment building. They have 1. excellent ice cream, 2. all kinds of matches, lighter fluid, charcoal and other delights including the One Big Match I bought to keep our pilot light from killing us in our sleep, 3. an ass-raping ATM machine, 4. The sketchiest employees in the history of convenience stores. I will not allow contest on this last point. Between the squirrelly much-tattooed punk boy whom I've named Wannabag after the ONLY THING I'VE EVER HEARD HIM UTTER and the Nam vet who always likes to make an announcement about how crazy this particular Friday is when it is actually a Monday or a Sunday and then continues to harangue the Mellow Yellow delivery guy who clearly doesn't know shit about driving a truck because he's never been stuck in the mud surrounded by Charlies, I think the Craziness award remains on their shoulders.

And then there's Liquors Foods, my preferred shopping destination. First of all, their name, in the most straightforward way possible, tells you what you can find there. Liquors. Foods. Hooray. Store 24 and 7 Eleven would make you think that they are open all the friggin' time. That's bogus. Don't fall for it. Also, their staff comes entirely from one apartment of latino (I think Mexican actually) guys who are great pals. None of them have shown outright signs of craziness. And they all like my big rack and give me special treatment.

Also in Liquors Foods, the thirsty person will never leave unrequited. I have never seen such an array of drinkable liquids. Who knew that Polar made club soda in every flavor known to man? And when's the last time you saw Sarsparilla soda? ANYWHERE? Besides the stunning overabundance of sodas, there are thirteen varieties of orange juice with varying degrees of pulpiness and calcium, a healthy showing of Goya fruit juices, and this awesome Ocean Spray product called Juice and Tea (which, like Liquors Foods itself, delivers its goods in a straightforward manner).

And possibly the cream of this particular cup o' coffee is that I don't have to cross the street to get to Liquors Foods. In a straight convenience store to convenience store match-up, that fact alone blows away the competition. It's just so... convenient.

You can imagine that on a Saturday morning when I was all by my lonesome with nothing but an evil freelance project ahead of me, I would not want to venture out into the deluge. You'd be WRONG! Venture I did! To Liquors Foods! I bought orange juice. Minute Maid with low pulp and extra calcium.

And on the way back to my apartment, I couldn't help twirling my umbrella, feeling self-satisied, and humming "Singing in the Rain."

Okay, I did have something to look forward to besides the plane project. I got to hang out with the lovely Miss Meera, who was rahther rightfully annoyed that I hadn't emailed this blog's address to her. Sorry, Meera Love. It was a very nice little sojourn we had, Miss Meera and I, and I made out like a bandit with a free dinner (at McDonald's) complete with a Happy Meal toy.

So this day went along nicely, and when I got home in the evening I flipped around on the tv until I found - drumroll please - Singing In the Rain! The movie! On TV, man!

That's it. My whole point. Watch it if you ever get the chance. You will smile.