We got a place near Meg's apt, and will move nest week. It's a big place, very cool wood floors and woodwork, but a little beat up. Main thing is that it's got room for my sickles and old car, and they'll be safe. The landlord has been slippery about fixing the place up. He lives in VA, but is up here this week to take care of the place. It needs paint, the washer isn't working, carpets need cleaning (replacement, really, but he's unwilling to do that), and there's some cleaning that needs to be done. He normally doesn't allow pets, but we're paying a cat deposit. He tried to charge us $450, I told him the most we've ever paid was $200, he agreed, then sent a lease with a deposit of $250. I called him on it, said it was cause for concern, and he said it was a "round number" and if I was going to argue over $50 it was cause for his concern. WTF? I also wanted to put in the lease that the washer would be fixed and guaranteed to work, but he's trying to weasel out of that too. We meet him tonight, and we'll see what's up.
Our stuff showed up a couple days after we did, and it's being stored about 30 miles away. I went down there and retrieved three motorcycles and our bicycles -- gotta ride in the limited good weather we have here. They're all in good shape and fired right up. Been riding around the Dick a little, and it seems like an involuntary reaction of all guys 14-25 to throw up the horns and scream something whenever I ride by ("YEAH DOG!" or "OOOOOWWWWW!" are two popular ones). I'm convinced that some of these people might not have ever seen a motorcycle before in their life.
On the recommendation of one of Meg's friends from work, I checked out a little shack that has a grill for burgers and hot dogs. I decided to check it out, walked up to the door, pulled on the handle, and even though there were people inside, it didn't open. So I pushed. Didn't open. Looked at the guy behind the grill who looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. I pulled again, harder, then realized that it was a sliding door. There are about 8 seats in there at the lunch counter, and everyone had turned around to stare. The grill guy said something like "If it doesn't open when you pull, don't pull hahdah, guy." I told him I was new here, had no idea, but now I got it. He instantly turned cool: "Welcome to Natick! Where you from? You like the Diamondbacks? etc. etc." This place could turn out to be cool, got two dogs gotta go back for a burger, but I learned that the door is a fire hazard and I am mulling over whether to tell them that. Better not.
The Dick is apparently Small Town, USA, when it comes to records. Found a record store run by a 60-something Greek woman, that had perhaps 5% of its stock organized alphabetically/by genre. Did some digging, found a few gems, and she sold them to me for pennies on the dollar. I didn't think I had enough cash, and she said "Just take them now, you can pay me tomorrow or the next time you come in." I told her how she thought she could trust me, seeing as she'd never met me. "Oh, I let people take things all the time, they just pay me later. I forget, but they usually remember." There was a Little Eva "LLLLLoco-Motion" LP, original Dimension pressing, with a price tag of $50. "Ignore that. It's $10." Then, when she settled my bill: "50% off of these for you." $5! Right before I left she told me they had a couple shelves of better records, that's where I pulled the Little Eva from, but I only looked at one shelf out of 6. I went back the next day, found some cool stuff: Otis and Carla record for $5, "Savage Seven" motorcycle movie soundtrack, and the first Ramones record, original pressing, in absolutely mint condition for $5. Sure, I've already got one or two copies of that, and yes, it's not that rare of a record, but this thing looks brand freaking new. Someone must have bought it, opened it, played it, thought it was terrible, and put it back in the stack to never play again. Second day I spent $35, and two days later I am going in to pay. I have also decided that I can't go there very often even though the turnaround is pretty significant -- it's just too disorganized. Maybe in winter. There are a coupe other stores I am going to check out in Boston this weekend: Cheapo, Looney Tunes, and Armageddon.
The past two weekends Meg and I headed south. The first weekend I was here was our 11th anniversary, so we got a B&B in New Bedford, and spent some time on the beach in the town where we got married (Mattapoisett), as well as a visit to the lighthouse where we tied the knot. Went to the New Bedford Whaling museum the next day, and ate some amazing food. Went back the following weekend for a party on Cape Cod, and stopped by Mattapoisett to swim again.
Monday nights in the Dick are reserved for music on the Village Green. Yes, we have a village green here, and Monday's entertainment was a Beatles cover band (tribute band? What's the difference?) named "Help!" Meg and I would have run from something like this, but somehow in the Dick it was kind of quaint, and nice to hear something familiar (even if I am a Stones guy).
I've done some skating too, those posts are gonna be separate.
So that's the first installation of Life in the Dick, I hope you enjoyed it, and stay tuned for more!
11th anniversary at the lighthouse where we got married.
Nobska lighthouse, Cape Cod.
Girl with a Team Dresch and Sleater Kinney spiked denim vest, at the Melvins show.
****Forgot to add: when I got my PO box sorted I had to wait in line. It was then that I noticed the photo below: Puritan Massachusetts settlers thrusting a bible in the faces of chained, savage natives. Egads. It was painted in 1937, but goddamn! Meg and I were talking about it and laughing and expressing dismay, but the folks around us appeared oblivious.
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