Happy “Dirty Thirty” to Pat “the eYe” Bridges. Not much more to say about this guy that hasn’t already been said on the deck of some halfpipe, or around fireplace of some ski chalet. We put a call in to the SNOWBOARDER Magazine headquarters earlier today to wish Pat some “Big Three Oh” cheer. As always, he was in high spirits, sounding all regal and shit on the phone, “I’m on my way up to Mammoth. Gonna get some riding in this weekend.” is what he had to say. We hope he has a good weekend up there. That invert-doin’ motherfucker holds a high-ranking slot on the DDC Pro Team, for life. - - - - Rose turned 30 a month back. Not much took place. Campbell hit it back in April. Snell hit it years ago. Chief, shit, he looks 40! Jay Floyd, that sonofabitch, hits the big 33 tomorrow. Man, the years have took their toll on him. (By the way, the photo above features Pat getting a big grizzly bear hug from Melissa. Hell, If I didn’t have her locked down, I have a feeling she’d pursue any one of my brothers.) - - - - I’ve got a good four months to go and I’ll hit the feared “30” plateau. I’m not gonna take it easy, either. The times fly by. I still feel young. I find myself wondering where the years went. Why worry? Futile. Did I make good use of my days up to this point? I look back at the people/place/good times/bad times and it all computes into one big ball of wax. A good one. Very thankful. Facts are stubborn things: The times goes by, and there ain’t a fuckin’ thing you can do about it. Either you do it right and hold yer head high, or you half-ass it and put the sobering realization–way back in a corner of yer empty head–that at some point you’ll look back and feel regret over wasted years. Thirty. I guess you can look at it a couple ways: 1. Now what? I made it! A new decade. 10 new years ahead of me. Adults! Almost halfway to callin’ it quits! Little bit dramatic, I know, I know. I spent the last ten years wondering if the 30 number was gonna be the end of it all. Bullshit. I look forward to it. Bring it on. There Are 6 Comments
Draplin, you better keep a watchful, glaring, and untrusting eye on that gal of yours. And you better routinely grab your so called friends by the shirt and pin em against the wall and ask them squarely “Are you hittin skins with Okins?” Better safe than sorry. You know, like Ryan adams’ “Come Pick Me Up”. That’s all I’m saying. I know you’re young and in love and yaddy yaddy… And hey, all this time I’ve been typing in www.draplindustries.com when all I needed to do was type in www.draplin.com. Since when? I feel a bit had. Do you own DDC.com too? Do you still want to pay for me to get stationary made? You could pay for me to get coloring books done too. Then I’ll pay you back plus some. I saw Wilco last night. They brought it. New songs. Lots of new songs. Tweedy wore a jacket and it was like 80 degrees. He broke his guitar amp. Well, I mean, it just broke, he didn’t like physically do anything to hurt it. Ryno keeps hating on them. He says that Tweedy is all washed up and wrote his best songs 15 years ago. And he says Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is a rip off of Pavement. I don’t know where he gets that at all. He may just be trying to hurt my feelings cause secretly he is hurting himself. I like your friend, Mr. B. I bet soon you’re going to start pretending stuff is wrong with your car just so you can see him again. “I swear, she was making this gawd awful noise yesterday, you had better keep Big S over night and take another looksie. Hey, can Mr. B take me back to lunch, I mean work now?” Weren’t you going to design him a logo for his BBQ sauce? Posted by: Kurt Halsey on 06/14/03 at 9:20 PM
Kurtness, Answers to yer questions: 01. Melissa won’t stray too far. She’s got a “bad case of the Draplins.” 02. Yeah, I’ve had “www.draplin.com” since I originally got the domains locked down, thanks to Cam. I should get “www.ddc.com”, eh? Good stuff. I might do a family website at some point, or something to honor the Draplin legacy with the draplin.com domain. 03. Mr.B. Yeah, maybe I’ll drop Big S off to get the air in my tires changed or something, and request his top notch services again. He was claiming he was gonna, “Take me up on my offer.” to design him a BBQ sauce label. I hope he does. I have ideas. Lots of ‘em. Maybe I’ll just quit CINCO and be his assistant, referencing maps and filling up his tank. 04. About Ryno and his goddamn “Anti-Tweedy Stance”: Talkin’ out of his ass again. He’ll come around. Posted by: Draplin on 06/15/03 at 12:11 AM
Hey PJ, where are you? Posted by: Kurtness on 06/15/03 at 9:33 PM
Top 5 Jeff Tweedy Songs of all time: #5 “Gun” (Uncle Tupelo, “Still Feel Gone”) This is my favorite Tupelo album, start to finish, and as much as a Farrar man as I am, this disc is all Tweedy. His single greatest shining moment. So many great little songs. “Gun,” in particular really sticks out, especially as an intro. Settin’ the stage. Aaaaaw! #4 - “Train” (Uncle Tupelo, “No Depression”) Awesome. 97 flat cars loaded down with jeeps, trucks, and tanks rolling by. Draft -elligable fear. #3 “Wait Up” - (Tupelo, “March 16-20 1992) Great feeling song. The lyrics function with the pickin’ as well as any song you’ll ever find. Every road hound knows that feeling of excitement when the wheels are blastin’ down that last stretch of highway and your loved ones are gettin’ close. A great late-night/early morn’ closin-in-on-the-promised-land road haul gem. #2 “No Sense in Lovin” (Tupelo, “Anodyne”) Just a great, sad, rock song. It rocks your world and cuts you at the same time. Chilling. #1 “Black Eye” (Uncle T. “March 16-20, 1992) Tweedy’s lyrics are fantastic here. Great stuff. Heartfelt, poetic, etc. “Like his brothers, he emptied himself and played it safe. Like their father, he wanted to remember, but he always forgot what he was gonna say.” How can I not mention: “The Long-Cut” -a real tough call, not making the top 5; “Watch Me Fall,” man, oh man; “If That’s Alright,” “Acuff-Rose” a classic-county fan fave; “D. Boon” - the f’n Minutement …. ‘nuff said; and finally: “Jesus, Etc.” - there’s your Foxy Yankee Motor Lodge shit, Kurt. A real nice song - but a diamond hiding in the center of a big terd. You don’t really want to put your hand in there, but its worth it if you do. Point: Tweedy was once an outstanding song-writer. But so were John Fogerty and Bruce Springsteen. I’d love to see it again, but with the exception of the Jesus song, all the real good ones were recorded at least 10 years ago. I know you’re clinging on tight, boys, but let the reigns go. That old horse can’t carry its own weight anymore. Posted by: Critical Ryno on 06/16/03 at 9:28 AM
Kurt, do yourself a favor - go buy all the Tupelo reissues and skeet-shoot that fuck’n Yankee-Doodle Highrise Foxhole junk. And get me a spelling dictionary. Posted by: Rynough on 06/16/03 at 9:32 AM
Sorry, Kurt. Every time I log on to check out what’s going on at the Factory Floor, my homepage: asiangynaecologistcam.com gets me all fired-up, and my evening is shot. Sorry Posted by: P.J. on 06/16/03 at 9:42 AM
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