Wish You Were Here

You Can’t Hear Shit

When news emerged last night that Wes Craven died, is it wrong that the first thought I had was, “This is the guy responsible for Scream 2 and Scream 3? I can’t be the only person, right?

Lately the Grandmother has made a very uncomfortable habit of asking me what day it is. “It’s Monday,” I tell her, but she’s hard of hearing. “What did you say,” she asks. “IT’S MONDAY,” I scream.

She’s quiet for a second. “You don’t have to yell at me,” she says sounding a bit butt-hurt.

“I’m not yelling at you,” I tell her. “You can’t hear shit, so I have to yell.”

This is a bit that happens daily.

I went on a jaunt today that had me circle the Trump golf course while listening to the latest Buddyhead mix tape.

San Pedro Hill Radar Station