Kicking pebbles, wearing backpacks, laughing about the school day, your friends flicker past you with red cheeks and windswept hair on cool and crisp walks home.
Silverware clinking, gravy boats dripping, your family sits in thick holiday sweaters under a sparkly chandelier amongst half-filled wine glasses and steamy bowls of brussel sprouts.
Furnace quietly clicking, clock slowly ticking, your boyfriend lies beside you on the patchy corduroy couch in the dark unfinished basement, smiling between kisses and laughs, sharing a moment in a memory.
Dusty sunbeams streak through the window while you lay on the couch in a blissful half-asleep cocoon. Sometimes during this hazy daze a little voice in your brain politely asks that the TV be turned down or shut right off.
In moments like this there’s something satisfying about keeping as much of your body completely relaxed and perfectly still as possible while awkwardly grabbing the remote with your foot, a rolled up newspaper, or another remote that just happens to be closer.
After you stab at it and coax it across the carpet, you do the deed and let a little smile curl on your face as you fade deeper and deeper into your comfy afternoon nap.
Come on, there are at least 3 Major Worries when you go get your lid trimmed:
1. Disappearing Choppers. Have you ever gone to your regular place and found your go-to person suddenly missing? Brother, that’s a bombshell. Plus, the gang left over can be pretty tight-lipped on details, too. No forwarding address, no new business cards, nothing. They just vanished and left only a few combs floating in the Barbicide for clues. Yes, now it’s time to step into the chair with The New Guy and grit your teeth, grab the handlebars, and brace yourself for a rickety journey down a dark mineshaft tunnel of horror. As the lights dim and you close your eyes, you hear the electric razor firing up in the distance…
2. Doing A New Do. Asking the stylist to try something new is pretty high up there on the Greatest Fears Of All Time List. It’s jussssst above three-hour root canal and jussssst below getting a snake thrown on you when you’re sleeping.
3. Getting One-Upped. This is where you’re getting your haircut and one of your barber’s more loyal customers walks in the door. You can tell this new guy is a somebody because they immediately start dominating the conversation while you become the third wheel and your barber goes superspeed and starts cutting corners. Sure, this doesn’t happen too often, but if you’ve ever been one-upped you know what I’m talking about.
Folks, if you’re nodding, you know the stress of getting a haircut. As the stylist peels the nylon apron off of your neck and brushes hair shards off your neck and onto your back, you cautiously check the mirror and scope the new you. Sometimes you strut confidently out of the salon like you’re in a slow-mo shampoo commercial, but other times you squint at yourself and frown slightly while cartoony question marks pop above your head like bubbles.
On days when you have doubts, that little “Hey, nice haircut” compliment can do wonders for your self-esteem. Because, come on, we’re all self-conscious about those little patches of scraggly knots up there. Most of us don’t know what’s going on with our hair so we just sort of grin and bear it for most of our lives.
Plop down on those fat plushy seats, take a long drag of ice-cold cola, and let your eyes adjust to the big flickering screen. Slideshow guessing games and car commercials are long gone and now only the good stuff awaits. Time to get into it, get comfortable, and get your brain ready for a couple solid hours of
McDonaldland was the trippy make-believe world where all the McDonald’s characters lived in harmony.
Growing up, we occasionally holed up in the corner of McDonald’s when someone’s cool mom dropped some bills on a deliciously greasy birthday party. There was usually a giant mural along the wall with all the McDonaldland characters living fantasy lives in their all-burgers-all-the-time world. If you were lucky, you might even have played on the McDonaldland playground equipment with some of these guys:
• The Hamburglar. He’s dressed in black-and-white striped prison garb so we know he just escaped from the slammer. Maybe he broke out after a couple days of tuna melts and grilled cheeses. Anyway, I’m guessing he’s going to get caught again because that raccoon eye patch, oversized red tie, and Jackie O retro sunhat isn’t a great disguise.
• Mayor McCheese. Even though his head is a giant, wobbly cheeseburger, this guy is as suave as they come. Just look at the top hat, diplomat’s sash, and fancy reading specs. I feel like this greasy politician (hey-ohhhhhh!) stumbled into the Happy Meal universe by accident. He should be at the opera or something.
• Captain Crook. Did anybody else think some lazy ad exec watched Peter Pan the night before inventing this guy?
• Ronald McDonald. Sadly, the red-haired clown was the most boring in the bunch. But then again, even though he looked like a hungover 30-year old in facepaint, he did inspire a generation of goths.
• Grimace. Everybody’s favorite, the purple giant played the lovable clumsy doofus of McDonaldland. Of course, in the original ads he had four arms, lived in a cave, and stole milkshakes. Just thinking about it gives me nightmares.
• Officer Big Mac. His giant two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun head prevents him from running fast enough through town to catch all the escaped convicts. That’s okay though, because his permanently frazzled eyebrows tell us he’s trying.
• Apple Pie Trees, Filet-O-Fish Lakes, and Hamburger Patches. In McDonaldland there were no beef processing plants, deep sea trawlers, or sugar kilns. Instead you just plucked hot hamburgers out of the patch, cast a line for Filets, and kicked the trunk of the Apple Pie Tree for dessert.
• Uncle O’Grimacey. Grimace’s Irish uncle visited in March and brought his delicious Shamrock Shakes with him. On another note, did anybody else ever wonder where Auntie O’Orangey was, because where did those delicious McArctic Orange shakes come from?
• Fry Guys. These guys were called Gobblins, Fry Guys, Fry Kids, Pac-Man Ghosts With Legs, or Rollerskating Pom Poms.
• Birdie the Early Bird. Poor Birdie was the only female in McDonaldland. She got out of bed early to tell us about the breakfast items. After that, I’m guessing she usually hit the pool hall or shooting range with Smurfette.
People, McDonaldland wasn’t a fictional place. No, it existed in the dimly-lit corner by the bathrooms and on the dangerous plastimold playground equipment in the parking lot.
It existed in the hearts and minds of kids everywhere because it was a place where we could be kids. Slam shots of orange drink, throw on some paper hats, play Pin the Arms on Grimace or Stack the Big Mac boxes, and scream as loud as you can. Then get bloated on sundaes, jump in the minivan, and smile a slow, sticky smile on the drive home.
Sure, maybe it was dangerous. Sure, maybe it wasn’t good for us.
Stepping into the dark restaurant, shaking off your umbrella, squeezing past the bar, you don’t know what you’re gonna get: Who’s gonna be here? Have they already ordered? Will there even be a chair?
If you’re like me, baby butterflies flap in your stomach when you stumble into Tonight’s Social Scene for the first time. Brushing rain off your eyebrows, unzipping your jacket, you smile nervously as you spot your friends and walk over to their crowded table in the back.
And if your entrance is marked by heads turning, forks dropping, fists raising, and loud cheers, it means you’re hanging with a great group. So smile and accept their little Welcome Package of hugs and high-fives.
Monday is the new Sunday. First off, your TV-watching schedule is messed up. The baseball game was last night so now you’re flipping past Wheel of Fortune and sitcom reruns. But no big deal, because even though the night before school or work is a bit of a drag, you can at least rest knowing you’ve got a four-day week.
Sunday is the new Saturday. Now you can make late night plans without excuses. No sister-in-laws will be zipping up diaper bags and tying their kid’s shoelaces in the front hallway at 8:30pm this time. Nope, on long weekend Sundays the party’s just getting started, so toss the seven-year-old on the bed full of jackets upstairs, and get ready to rock.
Saturday is Uncharted Territory. This is the Bermuda Triangle of the long weekend. You’ve got two more days to finish your algebra homework, plant the tulip bulbs, or mow the lawn, so that all falls off the radar. Yes, today’s the day for a movie marathon, long drive to see the grandkids, or late night out with your old friends from high school.
When you suddenly remember it’s a long weekend it’s time for some head spins. Your brain races with possibilities ahead and you’re filled with a tingly buzz of excitement. Yes, you ran up the bumpy hills of Monday and Tuesday, scraped by a muddy Wednesday, and clawed through the frozen tundra of Thursday and Friday.
Now you’re at the top of the mountain breathing the fresh air of the long weekend.
Green baby buds pop out in the spring, healthy leaves fly high to the sky all summer, and aging beauties flash and change colors in the fall. Then eventually they snap off and crack off and crumble and tumble down to the sidewalk.
People, it’s true — the sun rose, the sun set, months went by, and the earth actually tilted on its axis before this moment could appear before you.
So smile a big smile on your way to school and just enjoy the crispy crunch that comes when your sneakers smash a brittle little leaf into smithereens.
Faces float and fly through our brains.
Photos from: here
