Make Your Own Drinks

I am going to start saving the world again, so let’s all make sure that our laces are tied tight and that our hands are fixed firmly at ten and two. First let’s make a few news blips to bring ourselves up to speed since, what - -March 26th.
1. President Barack Obama came to Arizona State University and addressed a sold-out stadium of red-state people and was publicly denied a degree based on the fact that he hasn’t "done enough yet." Because he is a graceful orator and a good man, he sidestepped this ridiculousness by saying that Michelle has a list of things for him to do as well. When I attended ASU I can remember solidly that there was a large cross-section of people who had received degrees in unprotected sex with a focus in drunk driving and confused assault. The only thing that confused me is why a proudly lowest-common-denominator school (my alma mater) would dismiss a man who has "done" politics to the point of gaining the highest office, has "done" school to the point of degrees from Harvard and Columbia (two schools that sent back my application). . . and yet is supposed to react any way but indifferent to a school that received (I kid you not) an honor in High Times during my tenure there for having, concurrently, the highest rate of STDs and the lowest GPA. That was Manzanita Dormitory - 1998/1999. . . go figure.
2. I have purchased a new car. And no, of course it’s not a real "new" car, it is new to me and has been lovingly manufactured in this millennium. If you’ll remember, I had been driving a rock solid ‘95 Explorer that breached 212,000 miles before, among other things, the brake lights stopped working unless you really pounded the hell out of them. Now then, if a situation calls for really pounding the hell out of the brakes there is a good chance that any and all traffic behind you will be grateful for the split second warning you have afforded them. In the normal slow-to-a-stop kind of traffic situation, every single tanned-Beamer-Owner will holler from his air-conditioned leather fort that your brake lights aren’t working, and that he (in a grandly more important and more expensive car) nearly hit you.
"I nearly hit you back there," says tan bald man.
"Thank you for not, I appreciate it."
"Your brake lights are out."
"They are?"
"Yeah, that’s really dangerous, you know."
"It is daytime sir," turning the radio up slowly... "Did you not see my car decreasing in speed with all the other cars?"
"What?"
"Have a nice day, sir, I’ll get that taken care of immediately."
After summoning all the mechanical know-how I possess and stringing an extension cord and a desklamp out to the carport, I surmised that a large wrapping of electrical tape around the wires attached (some detached) to the brake pedal would buy me a few more weeks. On the way to the hardware store to purchase electrical tape I had an important choice to make:
Yellow Light.
Do I (A) really pound the hell out of the brakes hoping to signal frantically a dim reminder that my car will be coming to a complete stop in short order or do I (B) accelerate through the intersection knowing that I will miss the turn for the hardware store but likely spare the life of the young blond girl behind me who is writing her term paper on her blackberry while eating a banana and adjusting her makeup. . .
I saved that girls life, made a right turn into a car dealership and said the following.
"I would like to give you this car and take another one home with me. I would like the newer of the two cars to also be a stick shift, have reliable everything, and be less than 10k. Also, I have to be at work in 2 hours. Ready? Go."
Turned out just fine. Altima. Stick shift. Sunroof (kind of a double edged sword in Scottsdale where the sun will actually light you on fire if you let it see the top of your head like that.)
3. As I hope you have surmised, I have once again taken the summer away from playing bartender to pursue writing projects. . . let’s all keep playing nice together.
4. Go Nuggets.
5. I’m on Twitter, I don’t know how it works really, but if I text it something funny, apparently it comes up on other peoples computers. My Twitdonym (this is getting silly) is MatSnapp - - I think I’m supposed to put an "@" on there. . . so let’s give it a go: @MatSnapp
6. Looks great. Stay tuned.