Finally, the truth of the matter is revealed. And on CNN, no less. They need to get someone who’s not so dyslexic, though. Hey, dude, the N and the U need to be switched. Coverage of the Obama-Clinton ralley from a place called Unity (New Hampshire, that is).

Anyway, I’ve been convinced that the world, in general, and politics, in specific, is nutty. After the petition drive that I’m working on now is over, I AM OUT!!! I’ve gotta take care of the anxiety and emotional instability that I’ve been feeling lately. Until then, Brien Barbour will be my shrink (since his song “Life’s Too Short To Be Sad” is the only thing that’s made sense today, and it’s been a while since I’ve made a post in support of Brien).

So this is me saying that I’m going to officially be taking leave, probably sometime in mid-July to concentrate on getting my head on straight. I’m talking forty days and forty nights. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Devil shows up to greet you after that amount of time, especially since he’s been working on me for awhile now… Hey, Devil, we’re on for mid-August, right?

Last night I went to the Dive Bar in Raleigh, North Carolina. It’s a hard-rocking heavy metal type of bar just off the corner of Glenwood Avenue and Hillsborough Street in the downtown area. I had a hard time finding it because it’s a small (yet pretty popular) venue. For those of you familiar with downtown Raleigh, it’s by Snoopy’s hot dog shop and the Char-Grill burger stand.

Once there, I noticed there were no windows. Not really a problem with me, but I had a thought that I would open the door and see something that I’ve never seen going on in a public bar. But it turned out to be kind of like bars that I’d been to during undergrad, except the people here looked more decidedly bad-ass. I walked in triumphantly, gave a “Hey, what’s happening?” to the guys at the door, and looked for my party. I was meeting Stephanie, James, and Niall for a night of rock. Luckily for me they were at the very opposite end of the bar wondering why I was thirty minutes late. The band must have started about forty or fifty minutes late, so I was kewl.

The first band was a group from Delaware called Thunderbrew. I liked them, although I wasn’t quite drunk enough or used to the sound of actual live music at a bar to appreciate them the way they should have been. The second band was called Automag. They were from somewhere in North Carolina and were kind of into the hillbilly, Southern Rock-metal style. Definitely worth a listen.

The worst part of the evening was that I left home without bringing extra batteries for my camera. This was kind of good because all of my pictures that I was able to take had this really wild look to them.

Actually, now that I think about it, the worst part of the evening happened when I was leaving the bar. I was completely sober, mind you, but I fell completely on my ass. Or maybe it was my face. I didn’t really know since it was kind of late, and I was disoriented from all of the lights. I almost took two or three guys out in the fall. I was kind of embarrassed, but since no bar fight erupted I guess they were cool with it.

For a complete pictorial of last night’s hellraising, be sure to check out the rest of my photos on my Flickr profile.

Tonight I braved the elements to visit the 42nd Street Oyster Bar in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. I was hoping to bump into folks I knew there. Hell, they might have been there. If they were I wouldn’t have known since I was running late, the bar was a lot larger than I would have expected, and I’ve realized for a few weeks that I really need to get new glasses. While I would have enjoyed company in this pursuit, everything was all good, as this type of activity was still consistent with my newfound quest to get out of the house more often.

I decided to find a place at the bar and make conversation with nearby persons while waiting for the band to get started. The bartender and the young lady next to me recommended one of the draft pilsners, so I had two of them. It had the oddest taste, kind of like peas. No, not pee (or piss); it tasted like peas. The odd veggie taste was a strange comfort since most beers taste like how I would imagine piss to taste.

I expected the band to start at 10:00pm, but they seemed to start somewhat earlier than that. They looked kind of like Weezer, but must have been some sort of southern rock band. Weird. Their first song was called Southern Cross, by Crosby, Stills & Nash. Part of the song goes like this:

When you see the Southern Cross for the first time
You understand now why you came this way.
‘Cause the truth you might be runnin’ from is so small.
But it’s as big as the promise - The promise of a comin’ day.

That is where I started to notice things getting strange. Maybe things had been strange earlier in the day (like when presidential candidate Ron Paul came in second in the Nevada Republican primary), only this was my first realization of how strange they were. Last night Brien Barbour mentioned he would be performing Southern Cross at an upcoming audition (see my previous post from January 18th, “Brien Barbour at the Lotus Leaf Cafe“). Anyway, I decided to leave during the second song, the Marshall Tucker Band’s Can’t You See. I was almost inspired — about what, I can’t remember. But the spirits seemed to guide me nonetheless.

So I was out-and-about in downtown Raleigh, going to the store to pick up some snacks, the gas station to get lottery tickets (with one minute to spare), and finishing up by hitting the dollar menu at McDonald’s. Finally, I got home and pulled up the lyrics and began to reflect on Southern Cross, a song which with I really wasn’t too familiar. As I finished reading the lyrics, I got an email from Brien. Weird, huh? I hope this is a good omen for Brien’s upcoming performance.

I’m sure I’m missing something about the importance of this day. Even so, I just decided to fill my soul with thanks and open myself up to the experience. Maybe it’s all been teeny-tiny coincidences — or maybe it’s been mystical shit that’s screaming “Wake up!” at me. I’ll just pinch myself in case there’s something going on besides pea-beer intoxication.