V18 N37

Home for the Holidays
VISIT OUR BREWTIQUE FOR THE BEER LOVER IN YOUR LIFE
THIS WINTER. OPEN DAILY & YEAR-ROUND.
CAPEMAYBREWERY.COM FOR MORE INFORMATION.
10AM-10PM l Free Delivery
Sunset & Broadway l 609-435-5052
Page 20 EXIT ZERO December 10, 2020
pay all that well, gives me weekly
Deadline Anxiety and costs me
three/creates new enemies every
year.
Your friendly neighborhood
Exit Zero delivery driver got off
to a rollicking start this week by
forgetting to click-in the passenger
side seatbelt before loading
56 bundles of magazines on the
seat. What’s the big deal? Well, the
seat thought a very heavy person
was sitting there so the seat belt
warning chimed about every five
minutes. I mean, nobody died, but
it was pretty annoying. And now
I know precisely how many times
it beeps. (eight slow, 40 fast. And
now you can hear it, can’t you.)
Pulled into Ocean First Bank
in Villas to drop a bundle, noticed
a sign on the door and got out to
read it. Lobby closed until further
notice due to Covid-19 precautions.
This took all of 12 seconds.
Or long enough for an angry old
lady to pull in next to me and mutter
“learn how to f*cking park”
because I was blocking the handicapped
spots. The Christmas spirit
is really flowing this year, guys.
My guy at Donut Connection,
whose name I wrote down but
lost somewhere because I’m a real
journalist, is always in a fantastic
mood and always hooks me up
with a few donuts when I order my
decaf. I can’t eat them, of course,
which is psychological torture, but
he doesn’t know that and I don’t
want to make him feel bad. Plus,
I score points with the wife and
kids for bringing them donuts and
I can’t afford to lose that gravy
train. (But, really, thank you, it’s
appreciated.)
My oldest son Owen is
binge-watching Nurse Jackie, which
I first opposed as I thought it to
be another hospital drama in the
vein of ER and Grey’s Anatomy and,
while there’s a little of that, it’s so
much more. And every episode is
about 25 minutes so we can kill
a season in an afternoon. (Also,
Coop is low-key the best character
on that show.) Owen is also
bingeing New Girl, which makes
me want to smash the TV with
a hammer. There’s only so much
“adorkable” a man can tolerate.
If you told me in 1982 that
R.J. MacReady from The Thing
(Kurt Russell in one of the very few
perfect movies ever made) would
become this generation’s Kris
Kringle (The Christmas Chronicles
on Netflix) I would have told you
that sounds... just about right for
one of the most underrated actors
America has ever produced. I’d list
all his stone-cold classics here but
I only have so much space. I mean,
Tombstone. Dude was in Tombstone.
Shut it down.
I try to impart upon my youngest
on Henry my vast knowledge of
Silver Age Philly Sports (late 70s to
early 90s), and he digs my stories
and odd YouTube clips I unearth of
Dr. J or Randall Cunningham. But
this modern era, in which there
is no loyalty, from neither team
nor player, means he has to suffer
through watching has favorite
team (Oklahoma City Thunder)
trade his favorite player (Russell
Wesbrook) to a decent team
(Houston Rockets) that just traded
him to probably the worst team in
the league (Washington Wizards).
Go team.
Lastly this week, I am committed
to producing a new work
of fiction in 2021. Whether for
these pages in serialized form or
as a novel, I do not know. But it’ll
be… something. The question
is; what? An adaptation of my
stage play, Sherlock Holmes and the
Werewolf of London in the style of
Arthur Conan Doyle? My homage
to Armistead Maupin’s Tales
of the City called, creatively, Tales
of the Cape, a nostalgia piece set
in 1993? Or a novelization of my
previously published short story,
The Boat, a WWII-set spy thriller?
A smart man picks one. I am not a
smart man.
So, uh, sorry this week wasn’t
so upbeat. I promise next week
will be much happier. Like, 10%
happier.
’Til next week, don’t get caught
in The Undertow.