Bob’s Thirsty Thursdays: Summertime, Gran Torino, Tiny Houses

Now that we’re balls deep into summer, I started thinking about what summer means to me now versus what it used to mean to me growing up. This is what summer is to me now: scolding hot sun (and by scolding hot, I mean in the 80s… hey, that’s hot for Seattle!), working indoors thinking about being outside 40 hours a week, early sunrises and late sunsets, and all three of my kids at home 24/7, driving my wife and I absolutely bonkers. That’s what summer is to me now… which is probably why fall is my favorite season. But summer used to mean something special. Growing up, summer meant: sleeping in hella late every day, weeks going by with a solid agenda, staying up late enough to watch the sun come up, hanging out with friends, spending hours in AC-cooled theaters watching the latest summer movie extravaganza, checking out chicks in skimpy summer attire, and essentially basking in the glow of absolute freedom.

And I’m not just talking about being summertime as a kid, where bike rides around the neighborhood went on for hours and the fascination of building a fort was on the top of my list of things to do…. No, I’m talking about every summer since birth all the way up through the day I graduated college. Yes, I had summer jobs, and I worked a lot during at those summer jobs, but my days were spent outside, ushering tourists to the latest kayak and whale watch tour or pouring them beers while overlooking a harbor filled with boats and summertime fun. And even when I worked 10 hour days, there was still daylight when I clocked out, and I still managed to drink my balls off, get completely obliterated, and stay up late enough to see the sun come up (not every day, but enough).

Shit, this is starting to sound like a GREASE song. Fuck GREASE. What I’m trying to say here is, summer just isn’t the same once you grow up, get a “real” job, and have adult responsibilities. Fuck responsibilities. For those first 25 summers, life is good… and now? Well, I still drink cold Miller High Life on hot days (i.e., every day), I do lots of camping (so much fucking camping), I wear flip-flops when I can, I lounge around in the shade whenever I get the chance (fuck the sun), and while they’re few and far between, I still love going to the theater to check out the latest epic blockbuster (I’ve only really seen one this summer, but GODZILLA definitely fit the bill and then some). Anyway, getting old sucks. I think that’s what I’m getting at.

I re-visited GRAND TORINO last night, so my outlook on life is that of a grumpy old man. Fuckin’ Clint Eastwood is brilliant in that movie. When I grow way the fuck up, I want to be a grump-ass old fucker just like him.

My wife and I have been obsessed with the Tiny House movement for the last year or so and we’re finally taking the plunge and taking our obsession one step further by setting out to move our family of five into a Tiny House, and then blogging about it every step of the way. This is my blatant attempt at self-promotion. So if you want to read all about what it’s like downsizing from a regular 2,000 square foot house down to something around 400 square feet, follow our blog at www.BigFamilyTinyHouse.com and throw us a like via our Facebook page. I’m pretty excited about getting rid of like 90% of all my shit, but I’ll tell you right now what I’m not excited about…. Downsizing my DVD/Blu-ray collection. Seriously, it’s the toughest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life….and I’m just at the “thinking about downsizing my movie collection” stage and not the actual act of downsizing. I feel like there should be a support group for movie fans reluctantly needing to purge their collection for the greater good. Thanks god we’re in the age of Digital Copies.

Tune into Monday’s BingeCast for a possible special guest, plus updated discussions about THE STRAIN, reviews on shit like GRAN TORINO, and other drunken shenanigans. Now get out there and enjoy your summer while it’s still here.