Friday, November 13, 2015

Nothing (Much) To Report

I'm still here, just not around online as much (as I explained here).  Not that it hasn't been a little slice of heaven (because it hasn't), but I guess you should know what's new here.  So...let's see.

I finally was started on two thyroid medications, which did...nothing.  I took them for two months, and when the nurse called to see how I was feeling, I was like, "I don't feel any better.  In fact...I think I feel worse, because now I just sit around my house watching it rain and listening to the clock tick while I wait to grow old and die."  No, wait.  I did play endless games of Solitaire on my phone, too.

So...yeah.  Not an improvement.

They immediately took me off those (I feel a little better now, and a lot less like I should just move to a retirement home and take up bingo), and they called in a different prescription, which my pharmacy has taken 10 days to get right.  The first two times I drove the 15 minutes over there, just to get the prescription, they "didn't have it" (in the building?), even though when I CALLED them beforehand, they were like, "Yep, we're working on it; it will be ready in 30 minutes". Then they finally DID have it this week, but when I went in yesterday after 10 days, the line was so long, I'd have had time to grow old and die anyway, so I left.  Maybe today I'll try again.

(edited: I DID go over today, and the girl was like, "Uhh, yeah, I don't show anything for that name".  I had a small meltdown.  Right there at the counter.  THIS IS THE FOURTH TIME I HAVE STOOD HERE AND HAD SOMEONE TELL ME THAT YOU DON'T HAVE THIS MEDICATION THAT I DON'T KNOW THE NAME OF AFTER YOU SAID IT WAS READY FOR PICKUP AND WHY IN THE NAME OF EVER LOVING EFF *claps hand over mouth*    She said they had it yesterday, but they had put it BACK on the shelf because they said it'd been out for 9 days.  Waiting to be picked up..  I just...what.  the. heck.   

This makes no sense.

I smiled and said I would WAIT and tried to remind myself through gritted teeth that it was in no way this particular cashier's fault that I have done this FOUR times.  Not at all her fault.  Zip it.  shhhhhh

All I could think was Well, it's a good thing I'm not dying of some disease while waiting for this med.  *eye roll* Because hello, Wal-Mart, you could have just killed me and I'm pretty sure I'd have a case if I had the energy to be annoyed.

Actually, that's about the only energy I *do* have lately.  Every sentence lately seems to start with "WHY IN THE NAME OF EVER-LOVING EFF ..."   *insert whatever detail here*.

I did lose 5 pounds in a month, but I counted that as due to the fact that we went on the South Beach Diet, which means NO carbs of any kind, and NO sugar.  But yes...cheese.  So I've been living on mozarella and tomatoes and actually some pretty yummy dinners.  Shane lost 24 pounds.  I lost 5.  I'd say that sounds about right.

 Plus, I've been busy because you GUYS.

Nail polish.

Nail polish has taken over my life, and I blame Instagram.  Once a year, when I give up on stop working outside, my nails actually grow, and I go a little crazy.  So I gave myself permission to get on Instagram to look at nail art inspiration, and then I found out about indie nail polishes, so I also gave myself permission to BUY ALL THE POLISHES, which I pretty much did.  So now I paint my nails every day, which gives me something to look forward to while I wait for my prescription to be ready.

If you love nail polish and you haven't heard of "indie polish", buckle up and go check out my new obsession:  Delush polish,   A-England polish,  Live-Love-Polish,  Cupcake PolishZoya polish, Frenzy polish.  I die.  

Oh, and in other news--The other day, I looked out at the pond and I was SURE there was something floating in it, but I couldn't really tell, so I ignored it. Because, why not? My coffee was getting cold, so, whatever it was, it could wait.  Unfortunately, later that day, I went outside, and yes there WAS something floating in the pond.

It was..(ready?) a dead deer with an arrow sticking out of its back.  Floating.  In our pond.  *gags*  I called Fish and Game and was like, "Guys.  There's a dead deer floating in our pond. You should probably come get it."  And the helpful girl on the other end of the phone was like, "Oh, we don't do that sort of thing, but I'll let the officer-in-charge know."  Which was totally not helpful.  She did mention that it IS hunting season, so it's legal for there to be dead deer right now, even if they're floating in your pond, which I guess is good, because I didn't get put on a new list of possible criminals or anything.

(I did take a picture, but it's just too icky, so you'll have to just imagine it, because EW).

Sorry if this sounds more...down than usual.  I'm not really that down, just having a downish month, but coming back UP, so it's all good.

I have to go run some errands now, get my prescription, and come back and paint my nails because I have like 20 new colors that I haven't tried yet.  And there is a guy coming here this afternoon with parts that will fix a basically-still-new dishwasher that we quit using when it broke 8 years ago (just one month out of warranty, sorry), so I won't have to wash dishes by hand anymore every day, which means my life is probably as close to perfect, with some weeds, as it has been in a long time.  Like 8 years.


Friday, October 16, 2015

My "Disconnected" Life

Guys.  I have a confession to make.  Well, more like a statement to make.  Or maybe it's just like a memo that you didn't get yet, which totally hasn't mattered, because you're sitting there all living your life and not really knowing that I've been over here going through all kinds of epiphanies and stuff.  And since I may or may not have lots of words to say about all of it, I also compiled a bunch of fun photos to make this more like a photographic memo, which should make it more fun for me for you.  

So here goes-

I don't remember what the date was, but it was maybe two weeks ago now, when I turned on the internet news and saw that there had been a(nother) college campus shooting by a(nother) demented...I don't even know the word.  For the sake of clarity, we'll just call him a terrorist.  He doesn't deserve any attention.  Anyway, of course I read the story, because the whole entire world drops everything and reads these stories.  And something in me just snapped.

This happened in Oregon, where I have lived before.  I adore Oregon.  Roseburg is one of the towns we always drove through and said "Hey, we should totally MOVE here, because it's gorgeous and quiet".  So, for this to happen there, really just got me.  Plus, he targeted Christians.  Blatantly.  Executed.  Christians.  Which is what I am.  Which means, if we'd moved to Roseburg and sent our oldest to that college (could happen), our family could have been living through this nightmare right now, with all those other families who are living through it.  

I won't try to wax eloquent on that, but I read the first day's worth of news on that story, and I just...cracked.  I'm done.  I don't want to know what's going on out there any more.  I don't want to hear how evil people can be.  I don't want to see the endless debates about whether this was or was not a terrorist attack or how it revolves around gun control or not.  I don't want to see a constant stream of photos of loved ones grieving the sudden loss of a child/husband/fiance/friend.  I'm just...done.

I turned off the internet and walked away from my desk.  I spent a solid week avoiding my desk, except to work.  I had to use the internet connection to run customer credit card transactions and answer emails, but other than that, when I opened the Google main page with that search bar and all my saved page tabs at the top of the screen, I just stared at it for a minute, then clicked it *off* and walked away.

Actually, it gave me kind of a satisfyingly wicked sense of control to decline the invitation of that blinking mouse cursor, waiting for me to click my way back into the harsh reality that is the world today.  Kind of like that feeling you get when you really want a piece of cake but you're on a diet so you grab a carrot stick instead, and you feel all strong and grown up and girl power-ish.

So, I read more books.  I worked on a crochet Christmas gift.  I played with the dog.  I got re-obsessed with nail polish because why not?  I adore nail polish.  I continued with our South Beach diet, which is working and is a story for another post because yay, weight loss!

We went camping, even further from the world of internet and terrorists and in-your-face angst and online trolls (what is with the comments online? Are they even people?).  No cell service for 3 days was heaven.  I sat by the lake with the dog.  We sat around campfires with our large extended family of in-laws, cousins, nephews, nieces, and parents and just enjoyed each other and the mountains.  I read some more.  On the way up, I had to call a sister-in-law to ask her why all the flags were at half-mast, because I hadn't heard any news for over a week, and God forbid...what's happened now?  She wasn't sure, so I took that as a good sign that hopefully nothing earth-shattering had happened.  (I think it was for the funerals from the above event).

When we got home, I did get back online to keep my French lessons current, because that's just a goal I want to accomplish.  I  have enjoyed my Instagram account just for nail art and nail polish because, again, why not?  I haven't checked Twitter.  I haven't checked Facebook.  No, wait--I did log on accidentally and see my feed once, and the first thing I saw was a comment by a loved one that just made me want to scream "REALLY??!? You're saying that? ONLINE?"  I composed a message to elaborate my point, then deleted it and logged out. Walked away shaking my head.  I went back outside with my coffee and shook it off by listening to the waterfall and the birds, watched the yellow leaves rain down from our birch tree, and enjoyed that only-in-the-fall juxtaposition of sun on my face and cool nip in the breeze.

Ahh, much better.

OK, in all fairness to the internet and the goodness thereof, I do have a few blogs that I still read, because they show up in my email in box, and this morning I *did* have to Google "how to get the smell of dirty socks out of clean dried laundry" (which is probably self-explanatory, and also gives you a peek into my laundry life that is possibly TMI).

Other than that, I haven't been back online.  I just don't even care any more.  If any good news comes along, I'd be happy to hear about it.  Other than that, I'm just done.  Not hiding from reality, just...blocking it out of our house, which is our haven from the world, and I'm going to keep it that way.

Wow, that was a lot of words.  But then, if you're reading this, you're probably not surprised.

In case you skimmed this just to look at the pictures, here's a pictorial essay that says the same thing, but with less words.

So, I turned off my internet because I was sick and tired of the world...

Yo.  Stop.
That's it.  I'm out.
My friends, when I tell them I haven't been online for 10 days..."Whaaat?"
Them:  "Doesn't that feel like you're living in a CAVE? How can you TURN OFF THE INTERNET?"
Me:  I already explained this.  WITH PICTURES.

It feels kind of like this...
...And THIS.  But with more laundry and dishes.  And less beach.

Still.  No internet = Very little negative crap in my life.


Still need more?

Hold my calls.  I'll be outside, painting my nails...

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Still Here, Just Busy (A Fall Update)

It's suddenly Fall here, and that means DO ALL THE THINGS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE WINTER.

So, of course we did the back-to-school thing, which means volleyball season, which means practices and games, which means me driving to school and back at least 4 times a day until our youngest gets her full driver's license and can drive herself to school.

And...I used up our last beautiful 90-degree day to go kayaking with some friends, which was awesome and beautiful.  Except that I missed our daughter's first pre-season volleyball tournament, which I have never done.  So the whole time I'm out on the lake, the back of my mom-brain is telling me that I suck because my kid is playing at a tournament, and here I am, kayaking with friends like I have no responsibilities.  It really was a great day to be out, but the fun was tempered by my constantly checking the time and re-calculating how soon I'd have to leave to get back for her last two games.  Which I DID, because that's the kind of mom I am.  And they won, which was awesome. :)
How could I pass this up?  

Proof that I did NOT pass it up...

Driving out, so hard to leave.  Goodbyyyyyeeee summer.  aiieeeee

And...there is an orchard full of apples and plums to still pick, and they aren't going to pick themselves.  
I like it when *this* is the amount I can bring up to the house.  Not by the wheelbarrow load

And...the garden still looks like crap, more or less, because I just never got around to so many things, but this late in the year it's easy to just say Nevermind.  I'll fix that mess in the spring.  Because I'd rather be inside knitting or messing around online or reading.
If you stand back and squint, cover one eye, it almost looks ok.  Well.  No...not really

And...the tomatoes are all still green.  All. 40. plants. worth.  Just...why.  So now I'm having to cover them with clear plastic because the nights suddenly (and I mean overnight) dropped from 60 to 41 degrees.  I start my tomatoes every year inside, earlier and earlier, and I still never pick a ripe tomato before August 24th.  My gardening friends start picking in like July.  No idea what it is with me and tomatoes.  Maybe next year I'll start my plants on like Christmas Eve, because apparently February 15th is just way, way too late.

And the DEER.  Oh my ever loving..  Why, deer?  Why do you need to come down off the hill, cross the road, tiptoe through a 10-acre field, wade through an acre of deep lush grass and plush clover, ignore the scent of giant dog everywhere, jump our fence, navigate through the raised boxes, walk across the crackly black plastic that we have on the ground to smother the weeds, stand in knee deep oxalis, and force your head UNDER the black plastic that I have held down with bricks, to eat my little 4x4 patch of green beans?? Have mercy.

Even with the dog here to scare the deer off, they are not deterred.  They relentlessly have eaten all the apples they can reach in the orchard, by standing on each other's backs and/or possibly using my step-ladder. They stand defiantly in my garden every night at 11 p.m., staring at my flashlight AND the dog like, "If we don't move, you can't see us."
Apparently *not* doing her job.  But we love her anyway :)

My neighbors probably think I'm a madwoman, because it's not unusual for me to be running around waving a flashlight and yelling at deer at 12 a.m., barefoot, in my bathrobe.  What is she doing? freak

Also, this year I have spent more time on Twitter, because that is where I connect with all my rose and gardening friends (well, we're not friends in the sense that we know each other.  More like, in the sense that we share an obsession (and lots of photos).  Plus it's easier to just tweet out a photo and a one-line thing than to write a whole post, especially when I haven't had much to say, and I think my funny stories are on hiatus or something.  Or I'm just really lazy.  Or both.  Probably both.

My kind of Twitter post.  Just happy roses.  With conveniently cropped photos, so you can't see the weeds...!

And fall also means I can get away from being so hard on my hands with all the weeding and yard stuff, because my other selfish indulgence is nail I started an Instagram account just for that.  Even though I swore to my teen that I would *never* sink so low as to get on Instagram.  I caved.  Because omg, the nail art.  *sigh*  I always thought I might blog about nail stuff, but it just doesn't fit in here, and Lord knows I can't manage two blogs.  I barely manage ONE.
Turned this disgusting mess around.  But, not a good day for my hands...

Gardening and nail polish don't mix, but about once a year, I manage to grow them out and become obsessed with nail polish.

So, now I feel like I've become a social-media split personality.  Check Facebook for my friends and family.  Check Twitter for news and gardening stuff.  Jump on Instagram for nail polish inspiration (and to remind myself that I am a REALLY BAD PHOTOGRAPHER).  Work on the cookbook I started like 3 years ago, so it might be done before we all grow old and die.  Get on Google to catch up on blogs I read but haven't read in weeks and weeks.  Write blog for my own amusement and to escape above garden chores, laundry, and bills.  Yes, but which one AM I?  *crazy laughter in background*

Also, the colder the nights get, the more I realize I need to win the lottery and buy a house in the Bahamas.  I totally *get* the snow bird thing.  People aren't furry.  We obviously weren't made to live where the air can kill you.  The whole north should just be closed in the winter, like an out-of-season campground.

Image result for closed for the season
Come back when you can't see your breath

Anyway.  That's the random ramblings from around here today. Hope you're all having a great Fall.
Sam, sitting out a rainy afternoon

And if you have a house in the Bahamas, we should totally house swap.  Soon.

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Yes, You Can Imagine It...

 Not a funny post, because too many people here in the northwest are dealing with horrendous fires right now. Where we live, we are surrounded on almost all four sides by some of the largest fires ever recorded, though our valley is safe.

One small and very dear town where Shane and I lived for four years is possibly evacuating today due to the Okanogan complex fire and others bearing down on the town from all sides. Some of our friends are on standby to evacuate, some already have.  Our oldest was born there, and now both homes we lived in there...are possibly gone.  We won't know until the areas are opened back up.

The town where we both grew up has a giant fire still burning, which has caused evacuations throughout many places we remember from our past.  The neighborhood where my best friend lived, where we took long walks down the dyke and taught ourselves to type in her parents' camper.  The area where Shane's grandparents lived when his dad was a kid, and probably all the landmarks from that era, are possibly gone--again, we won't know until they let people back into the areas.

So many sad stories.  Every one is its own private tragedy, and every one means a family starting over.

The firestorm photos are hard for me to look at.  They take my breath away and bring instant tears, because I know what it's like.  My family's home burned to the ground on October 21, 1986, when I was 16. The house we had built from the dirt up, that my parents designed and our friends helped build.  The house that was our sanctuary and our whole world for 7 years, a lifetime to a child.

My mom was out of town on an extended trip to Washington, D.C. that month, so I had put out the cats, said good-bye to my dad, and my brother and I had gone off to school.

By 9:30 that morning, I was called into the gym, where the whole highschool was taking their SAT tests, to take a phone call from the sheriff's office telling me that our house was on fire and was a total loss.  They couldn't find my dad, so I got the news first. I looked outside and saw the billowing smoke from 20 miles away, and I knew that cloud was our home.

I will save the *whole* story for another time, but I wanted to share something.

For those who see the posts of devastation in the news, social media, etc., and say "So sorry, I can't imagine your loss," it struck me that yes, you can imagine what a house fire is like.  Here's how:

Look down at what you're wearing right now.  Jewelry. Clothes. Underwear. Socks/shoes. Anything you are carrying.


Now, close your eyes and imagine that those items are all that you now possess on this earth.

Now open your eyes.

Makes you appreciate everything a little more, doesn't it?

And yes, many people in the fire areas have been fortunate (and I use the term loosely) enough to have some warning and time to plan and evacuate, time to pack what is, and what is not, necessary.  Time to move livestock, or just open the gates and hope for the best. Time to take a picture and a long look and say goodbye to the house and the landscape, and leave.  And yes, it is "just a house", but until you've been through it, you can't really fathom the loss.

A peek at my story...

Our house in the beginning-- 1978

After much adding on, almost finished, early 80s.

View from driveway, 1982
Same view from driveway, total loss.  Sometime in 1988.  My whole life was in there.

Please keep the northwest in your thoughts and prayers.  So many people are hurting right now.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Panhandling in the Panhandle

The other day, I was driving with our youngest, and there was this guy standing on one of the corners by our mall, holding one of those cardboard signs that said something along the lines of  I don't have any money.  Can I have some of yours?

I won't bore you with a monologue on how I *feel* about panhandling versus busting your ass working for a living 6+ days a week, because then you might disagree and be like wow, you're really judgey, and I'd have to be all, well, don't read my blog, then, and then there'd be all this angst and we'd both think the other was being a jerk.

ANYWAY, there was this guy, for whatever reason, and it caused the following funny conversation in our car, after we went by.

Me:  Dude, seriously?  I thought panhandling was illegal in Idaho.

Teenager:  Isn't that why it's called The Panhandle State?

Me:  *laughing*  No.  We live in the Panhandle OF Idaho.

Teenager:  Oh.  Why is it called the Panhandle, then? I thought it was because of panhandlers.

Me:  Because Idaho is kind of shaped like a pan, and this is like the pan handle.

Teenager:  Idaho is the least pannish thing I've ever seen.  It totally does not look like a pan.

Come to think of it...she's right

Monday, August 3, 2015

Great. MORE THINGS to Cut Out of My Diet

I'm getting ready to go see a hormonal specialist doctor in the near future, because here's the situation.

Aside from the fact that I've been unsuccessfully fighting the same 30 pounds for about 10 years, I've been repeatedly told I "should get my thyroid checked", and I have like 9 of the 10 symptoms of hypothyroidism.

I have ranted about this before, but it's not helping, so here I go again.  I'm getting really tired of this.  I'm not used to losing the fights I fight.  When I set my mind to something, I ALWAYS accomplish it, so why the heck is this not working?  And, how does my weight continues to go UP?


My weight problems started after taking the diet craze pill called Metabolife (the original, really bad for you formula) way back in the mid-late 1990s, when I didn't actually HAVE a weight problem.  So, I'm not even sure why I tried it, because at that time, I had always maintained the same weight.  I bounced back easily after two pregnancies (where I gained 48 and 54 pounds respectively).  I liked my body then.  It was beautiful and curvy at a healthy 128-135 pounds.  It actually stopped traffic once in a terrific dress that I'll always keep as a reminder, though in those days, I always thought it could be better.  Just...why.

Back then, I could eat anything I wanted, within reason, and my weight would maintain.  Gain a few pounds, oops...cut back here and there over a few days and tah-dah--back where I need to be.  I never worked out.  I never dieted.  There's no history of obesity in our family, and don't give me that "'s just our AGE" crap.  This is not normal.

Fast forward to about 2004, when a year had gone by where we didn't have a scale.  I went in for a physical (that was last physical, but I digress), and found I'd gained 20 pounds.  I about FELL OFF the scale.

No.  That can't be possible, doc.  Move that slide-y thing back.  Back.  BaaaaaaccccckkkkKK.


Let me try it with my shoes off??

So, I bought a scale and decided to get a handle on whatever had happened to my body.

The End.


Ever since then, I have fought my weight.  I've cut various things out of my diet.  I have swum laps for hours and gone to the gym (ok, yes, sporadically, but as often as 6 days a week without weight loss...really???  That'll make you DEFINITELY QUIT GOING TO THE GYM ).  I bought an exercise bike and rode it to the moon and back, with no result.  Did Pilates.  Jumping jacks.  Run up the stairs and back down.  I have taken herbal supplements and multivitamins.  Tried to be like my Mom--read Back to Eden and stocked up on vegetarian cookbooks.  I have counted calories and done online help-me-lose-weight apps. I have been drinking hot water with lemon and honey in the morning forEVER.  I tried acai berry and apple cider vinegar.  I have cut processed foods, fast foods, GMO's, coffee, and all my beloved carbs.  I never eat any of the desserts I bake (if I bake at all anymore). I have gone on a more or less plant-based, whole-food diet, all organic.  Heck, I hardly ever even eat HOT food any more...Raw cucumbers or fruit again? YES because who doesn't love raw cucumbers every damn day?  We sort of tried to go a little bit vegan.  I work outside in the garden in the summer, EVERY DAY FOR 1-4 HOURS A DAY.  EVERY DAY.


Did I mention, every day?

I keep gaining weight.

What. The. Hell.

Oh sure, I'll lose a few pounds here and there, but as soon as I let up the relentless pressure of eating almost nothing and cutting out ALL THINGS THAT I LOVE, my weight floats up just as relentlessly.

Here's my life in a nutshell:  (yes...apparently I *can* have nuts, hahaHAHAAA  *weeps*)

Consume more than 1200-1500 calories in a day? = weight gain.

Any wheat products (even whole grain)? = weight gain (like 7 pounds in 3 days on vacation!! what the actual?)

Any processed carbs, even brown rice flour pasta or gluten-free vegan bagels? = weight gain.

Coffee with cream and sugar in the morning? = weight gain.

Other random things that aren't helping:

Alcohol.  Sugar.  Dairy (noooo, don't take my cheese and yogurt.  It's my last joy).

If I limit the above three things and cut OUT the former carbs/wheat/coffee weight will stay relatively the same, albeit 30 POUNDS HEAVIER THAN I SHOULD BE.  Oh sure, it will drift down a pound or two here and there, but if I let up for even a goes right back UP and we reset the clock and start ALL OVER.

So, to maintain, here's what I CAN have, based on my totally nonprofessional findings:


Yeah.  This is AWESOME.
I know, it LOOKS pretty.  But it's not that cool when it's ALL YOU CAN EAT.

So.  I'm getting started with some labwork as soon as possible, as well as the long-overdue physical, also partly because "you're not getting any younger" is one of the recurring themes when I can't sleep and my brain starts reminding me of cool stuff to not forget about at 2:45 a.m., or lists I should be making.

Part of me hopes it will turn out be something like my thyroid, and not that I have just epically failed at something that should NOT be impossible.  The other part of me will be really pissed if I've just wasted 10 years being 30 pounds overweight because of a hormone imbalance.

Sorry to go OFF, but I'm just so really totally sick of busting my butt (apparently *not enough*), eating nothing I enjoy, and getting on the scale to see the number has gone...UP.   again.


Somebody tell me I'm not a fat, epic failure today...I really need it.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Small Town Kid Awkward Moments

Here's a story I always forget to tell.  About Shane, actually...

We both grew up in small town north Idaho.  The kind of small town where, if you're a good drummer in the high school band, the band teacher may or may not actually approach your parents and ask them if they'd be willing to allow you to drum with a local band. IN A BAR.

 At age 17.

This is what actually happened to Shane.  There was a band playing in town, who needed a drummer, and he was the best in town (at 17).  Or possibly the only drummer in town.  His parents went and talked to the owner of the bar, because they all went to school together back in the 50s, and they all agreed that it would be OK, even though he was underage, as long as he stayed on the bandstand and wasn't, of course, served any alcohol or molested by cougars (although in the early 1980s, I don't think those had a name yet; they were just older scary drunk women...)

ANYhoo, off he went, after his mom threatened the bar owner that she would go down and raise heck if anything happened to him, because he was an innocent.

Like this

So...being the innocent that he was, one night he came down off the bandstand after a set (I think that's what it's called) to sit at a table with some people (and no, I don't know *why* he was at a table, instead of outside waiting for the music to start again).

The people were lining up piles of white powder on the table in front of them and rolling up dollar bills.

As far as my farm kid sweetheart could tell, there was just a mess of white powder all over this table.

He had no idea what they were doing, so...he pulled up a chair, looked in distaste at the table covered in lines of white powder, grimaced, and said "Geez, these tables need cleaned", and proceeded to wipe all of these people's cocaine off the table onto the floor.  He thought someone had spilled the salt or something.

He wondered afterwards, why that whole table got really quiet when he was done.


He said there was just a stunned silence, so he figured, "Wow.  This table's kinda boring," and he left them sitting there with their mouths hanging open and went back up to finish drumming.

Looking back now, he says he's probably lucky they didn't actually take him outside and beat the crap out of him...