Thursday, April 2, 2009

Life Is Hard. Hooray Life.

One of the cool things about my old apartment was that it allegedly abutted the residence of the Lawrence Arms. I never actually saw anyone from the band in the neighborhood but I figure we ran in different social circles so the internet probably wasn't lying to me. However, not even that bit of celebrity could convince me to stay in that place for another year. Anyway.

On Sunday night/Monday morning as I was leaving the radio station I happened across a field of tiny American flags. The sort we used to tack to our bikes for the Fourth of July parade as children. I thought this odd so I doubled back to check out the sign which explained that each flag represented an aborted fetus. I could not roll my eyes hard enough at the ridiculousness. And I probably wouldn't waste the time drawing attention to this supposed social commentary were it not for the conversation Sarah-Sarah and I had the following afternoon wherein we have decided to re-frame the pro-choice/anti-choice discussion.

Let's face it, things get pretty heated on both sides of the fence. So we have decided, in typical fashion, that we are going to stop using the word "abortion." Because, really, it's much more positive (and we really ought to maintain a positive outlook even in the bleakest of times) to henceforth refer to said medical procedure as a LIBORTION.

Instead of saying you terminated your pregnancy or murdered your unborn child, isn't it so much nicer sounding to say the fetus was LIBERATED? I think it is.

Libortion: the new term for abortion. What do fetuses want? FREEDOM! When do they want it? DURING THE GESTATION PERIOD! (from Sarah-Sarah's twitter)

Anyway, so I was back at the radio station this evening for a meeting. And because I am horrible at timing transit routes, I was a wee bit (half an hour) early. And because it was so nice out, I decided to hang out on the steps which meant staring directly into the mass of flags. Fortunately the sign had blown over so their purpose was unclear. (It also appeared as though some of the flags had been liberated-awesome!) And then the true scope of the situation's humor struck me.

"Abortions for some, tiny American flags for others!" (-the Simpsons. Although I first encountered this decree via a Lawrence Arms' song, hence the anecdote at the beginning of this post.)

Regardless of whether the flags had been chose as a nod to the Simpsons/Lawrence Arms or not it pretty much made my day. Life is just awesome like that sometimes.

In unrelated news, I saw Bishop Allen last night thanks to Ms. Jodi and scored a bookshelf off the Sportz Night neighbors who have fled their lease like thieves in the night. Things are looking up.

p.s. Don't fear, Sarah-Sarah and I plan to continue the Sportz Night tradition by putting the George Foreman on the porch and throwing bean bags at the wall. It's for the greater good and a fitting tribute, I think.


Cynthia said...

Wait, those crusty frat dudes next door moved away? Or is Sportz Nights a bar? Your life is so fun and exotic!

Usually Stunning said...

I LOL'd like at least 3 times while reading this... it makes me miss you and Sars like burning. Well done!

Sarah said...

So I went to a Braves game with my Pa (who doesn't understand why I said he should call me Half-Pint) tonight, and not only were people Sportz Niting it up in the parking lot (which is to be expected) they were holding BEAN BAGGING CONTESTS. And apparently, at least in Joe-jah, it's called cornholing. EW.