Midnight Oil

Well, I'm, running behind on a presentation for a new Toyota dealer, and I should be doing that, now. "Now" being 1 A.M. But I've already written the radio and TV spots for both the new and used (they like to call it 'certified pre-owned'), and I'm as bored by it as you can imagine I'd be. All that's left are the two print ads, but I've got to gear myself up for them. Perhaps writing this will help? No.

Finally, finally, finally got the old dining room table gone. It's been sitting on the porch since March, when my mom upgraded her table and gave us her old one. I couldn't quite bring myself to just trash our old one, because 1) it's still a good solid piece of furniture, and 2) what can I say, I'm a sentimental guy. Considering that this is the table that's been in the house since I was born, I think you can meet me halfway on this?

I know it's just a hunk of wood, but a close look at the surface will reveal the tracings of endless homework assignments, comics drawn, SAT's prepared for, math lectures prepared, etc. Yesenia and I even signed the mortgage papers for the house on it, so it's got a lot of historical significance for me. Over the last 36 years, I've done everything you can do on a table on that table, save giving birth.

But in my memoirs, I intend to lie and say I was both conceived and born on that table. Back me up, okay?

So I listed it for free on Craig's List, and a young guy and his father came to take it to Jersey City, today. They seemed very happy, and the younger guy (the new owner) seemed to be thrilled with it - even the various discolorations and the overlapping handwriting marks from where someone (probably me) pressed too hard, too often.

Then it was gone, along with the six chairs. Table on top of the red Chevy Blazer, leg up, chairs in back.

Table, we salute you!




D.