Adventures in an igloo

I've been giving the meaning of jammin' a lot of thought lately and just when I thought that my jammin days were numbered, at least when it comes to old style jammin' it happened..

The old lady went out and painted the town red until 7 in the morning and on another occasion I only stayed out until 1 am but managed to listen to a lot of Thai and Polish karaoke including two skinhead types crooning a heartfelt tune about Warsaw. I even grabbed the mike and sang ABBA's Dancing Queen. I'm not sure whether the audience not clapping had anything to do with my and fellow friends' poor skills as karaoke singers or whether they were just too blown away by the sheer brilliance of the performance that they forgot to clap...

Anyway, during my way too long jammin' session I did some soul searching again. Hey, I am well aware that thinking while drinking and such multi-tasking is a bad thing but I nonetheless did it.

And what was I thinking about? Clothes.

Instead of enjoying the silence or rather lack of silence I gave people the evil eye especially those toting their cigarettes in my general direction. You see I recently bought a new gold coloured trench coat, the golden apple of my eye and I just happened to be wearing it that night on the town.

So, although I did enjoy the jammin' in many ways, I was mostly very busy worrying about cigarette holes and heavily drunken people spilling their blood coloured drinks on me and my lovely new clothing item.

One oldie and far from goldie did his own sort of crooning with ever so touching and original hehemm phrases such as: "I think I'm in love and that can be dangerous for a man my age".

Instead of feeling happy about the attention my only possible response to such measures that night could have been: "Look gramps, I'm in love with my new trench coat and if you come any closer with your nearly full glass of red, I'll show you how dangerous life can be for a man your age".

And I wonder why I'm still single, strange innit?