Who needs sleep?

As a few of you devout readers know, for the last several weeks I’ve been going to the 24 hour gym. What started as something to do during bouts of insomnia has turned into a social experiment and I’ve come to conclude that the gym after midnight is the new dive bar.

When I’m there I can only assume all the other freaks like me have their own demons to battle and reasons for being there at such an un-Godly time. There is no verbal communication between the half dozen or so people there, only furtive glances that ask, “Are you done?” Responses are made with nothing more than a grunt or a shake of the head. We’re all kindred spirits yet none of us will speak to the other. Instead we choose to isolate ourselves as if we were drowning our sorrows in a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon at our favorite dive bar.

Take us out of the gym and each of us would be that odd fellow at the end of the bar, drifting in and out of the shadows, speaking to noone, ordering round after round. We each crave companionship rather than the solace of our empty apartments yet we only go so far as to stave off the feelings of loneliness choosing not to interact with our surroundings anymore than we have to.

I keep the brim of my hat pulled down low, my eyes in shadow, an unwillingness to recognize and acknowledge myself in the mirror and I begin to ponder, who is this strange man at the gym at 1:30 in the morning?

The Edge

"The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."
-Hunter S. Thompson

How true my dear friend. Having slipped off the edge myself, let me tell you, there are some jagged rocks at the bottom which will break you into a million pieces. The only good thing is you get the chance to TRY and put your self back together. You'll never be the same person though. Which, when you think about it, is good and bad. I often feel at times I left a few things behind, down there in the depths of hell, like my sanity, but then again there wouldn't be this wonderfully freakish person writing this gibberish here in Sherb Land.



I don't seem to sleep much anymore so I'm off to the 24 hour gym. God bless the City That Never Sleeps. Now if only I could find a place that does a decent haircut at 3 a.m. I'd be all set.

-Sherb

Fear and Loathing on the Lower East Side

No literally. Friday & Saturday, July 21 & 22 at Midnight, Landmark Theatre on Houston. I'm quite certain I'll be there Friday night with all the other angry Rotarians. I encourage all readers of Sherb Land in the New York Metro Area to be there as well.
-Sherb

And on the seventh day God created Sherb

I'm sure many of you are wondering how I got this great name. Well probably not, but until you tell me what you want to hear about I'm going to assume you're all dying to know the origins of "Sherb".

Our story begins back on May 27, 2004 when the JJ4 went to B.B. King's to see Jerry Jeff Walker. For those of you who have yet to take in a show if you get there late you may be forced to sit at a table with complete strangers. Worse yet, you may have to stand at the bar......egads! This being like our 19th time seeing Jerry Jeff we didn't feel the need to get there all that early and were forced to sit next to some crazy blonde and her boyfriend. Knowing we'd be spending the next three hours with this young couple we introduced ourselves and began chatting them up. At least her, he looked like that dude from the Blue Lagoon.

We'll call her Kat, why? Because that's her name dumbass. Kat is what I like to call, a degenerate southerner. This is her:



Why is she a degenerate southerner? Let me count the ways....she has a beer in her hand, she's drunk, she's wearing my sunglasses, she's having way too good of a time with complete strangers, she's totally ignoring Blue Lagoon to be with said strangers, she's from the south, she gave me her number and oh yeah, she has this scar that you might just be able to make out on her right hand from receiving stiches after punching some chick in the face for calling her a slut.

So after a little banter we ask her if she remembers our names. She manages to get one of our names right but only because it also happened to be Blue Lagoon's name as well. When she gets around to me she has the totally confused look on her face and goes.....Shhhhhherb? WTF Kat? That's not even a name? What is that, short for Sherbet? Are people down south named Sherb?

Well, after the show we insist that she join us for beer and free hot dogs at Rudy's. It's only then that we learn Blue Lagoon from Connecticut isn't 21 yet. Of course this doesn't stop our degenerate southerner from partying with the JJ4! Literally leaving Blue Lagoon sitting on the curb, we go in for shots and dogs. A bathroom break and beer later we exit to find Blue Lagoon still sitting right where we left him. This guy must have left his ball in his hut at the lagoon because I would have told her to fuck off. We take pity on the poor lad and jump in a couple cabs headed for the Rodeo Bar where he wouldn't be carded.

Sure enough he got in and it was there that Flaco got a kiss from her and I got her phone number. Lefty was convinced she would have shown us her boobs for $100.

Weeks later Flaco and Arlo kept referring to me as Sherb and it kinda stuck.

There you have it. Did I miss anything Arlo?

Hugs and kisses,
-Sherb

An open letter to the recent high school graduates standing in front of me at the July 4th Belle and Sebastian show.

In the board room the quiet man
Takes a second to think what to do
He's out of his seat and he's starting to speak
And he hears his own voice

For years and years he's done nothing but bow down
And put up with all their demands
She sits like a viper and offers the clock
Without giving a damn
He takes it

* * *

"Night after day after night i've been working
Despite of you fucking us all
Now I'm gonna die I don't care if you cry
Just please leave me alone"

"And spare those tears for yourself
We've had those 'til we're sick
You should leave while you still have the chance"

-Belle and Sebastian, "Take Your Carriage Clock And Shove It"


Kids,
You're on the carefree highway of life. There's no speed limit and the destinations are endless. You can go anywhere, be anyone, do anything. No worries about what tomorrow may bring. Enjoy it now, summer vacactions, no job, no boss, few responsibilities and barefoot 4ths of July listening to Belle and Sebastian in Battery Park.

I'm so jealous it hurts.
-Sherb

The Fade Away Breakup

Now I'm not exactly proud of what you're about to read but I know that Arlo got a kick out of it. For the record, I haven't had to use this "escape plan" for several years now. Actually, my last relationship ended over email despite complying with her request to call on a given day at a specific time. Ummm, hello, answer the phone, you picked the time.

When the hell did I download an entire Jack Johnson album? I like him and all but I have no recollection of ever doing this. Some type of iTunes amnesia....iAmnesia?!?!

Yeah, so I know guys like to say how the woman they are dating is crazy but this girl really had issues. Someday, maybe I'll post the emails she sent during the "breakup" and you can decide for yourselves. I'm sorry, but if my penis has been inside of you, I think I'm entitled to put my arms around your waist when we are standing around, you crazy psycho.


Without further ado, I give you the fade away breakup.

"[I]t takes time to do the no call thing without looking like a total jerk. Begin by returning calls when you know they won't be able to answer. Leave messages on the home phone when they are at work etc. Slowly start adding more time between returning calls until you've built up a several day buffer. Then transition the no call buffer to span over usual date nights. (i.e. she calls on Thur to make plans for the weekend, you return the call late Saturday afternoon when you state that you already have plans but would have loved to get together.) Then after several weeks of this you just sort of, as __?__ would say, "fade away".

Of course for it to really work and for you to come out looking like a good guy, you must succed in convicing her that you have been trying to get in touch with her despite the long gaps. You want to make it seem as though life has just been getting in the way of what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Bonus points if you can convince her that she is the one who hasn't been calling you back."

Fading away,
-Sherb

He died doing what he loved. WTF?

If by chance I should meet an untimely death while running a marathon or racing my bike, please don't let anyone try and make my passing any better by saying, "Sherb died doing what he loved to do." Hey asshole! I didn't die doing what I loved, I died having a heart attack or being pounded into the pavement by an 18 wheeler. Now while I haven't had the chance to experience the crushing pain of a heart attack or being rammed in the ass by the chrome bumper of a Mack truck going 55 MPH, I'm pretty sure those are two experiences that I certainly wouldn't love.

On a lighter note, here is something that I enjoy doing, making a spectacle out of myself. That's me running in Central Park as the good Dr. Thompson.



Hugs and Kisses
-Sherb