Thursday, March 5, 2009

A solid plan, according to yours truly, takes a critical look at reality, embraces it tightly, and then anticipates a few possible outcomes. Rocket science this is not, clearly, and so my social plan came to be, starting with a frank assessment of venue. The workplace, for instance, was quickly dismissed, because it’s basically what I’ve been doing for the past two years and eight months. I need to diversify here. Orchestra? Way too much effort. And clubs? Let’s just say if I ever return to Suite, it will be as a ghost, my remains mixed into the glow stick fluid, restless spirit bent on haunting the nightclub with disdain every night. Church crossed my mind, but I’m not in the market for nice people, whether genuine or manufactured.

The alumni association, then, is where I’ll begin. I figure the shared frame of reference is substantial enough. Values are probably similar. My $30 down payment on sociability went toward tickets for the first event of the year, an evening uptown at a tribute concert to the Rolling Stones. Preparations are in motion, as you can well imagine. “Jumping Jack Flash” is pumping through the speakers, with a few other fan favorites queued up. History’s been skimmed. Origins of the band. Early musical styling. American influences. Drug abuse: LSD, Benzedrine, puffing the magic dragon. 90% of which will be useless trivia, but this is how I tick.

Route to the theater, check. Estimated length of the concert is two hours, reception to follow. Business casual, so going to need to fire up the iron. The parking garage will take American Express, though I’ll hit up the ATM anyway. What if I bump into my boss there? That’s right, Boss G, you’ve got your very own scenario. About the only thing that will remain unplanned is the conversation. Everything else is fair game. You may wonder where spontaneity has gone, and I assure you–I’ve scheduled it for sometime next month. See? Says “Spontaneity” right there, penciled onto the calendar.