Greetings from Hookah House
For the moment, life is good.
It will fall to shit again soon enough because that's the way of the world, so I'm savoring the moment. And breathing. I'm all into mindful breathing right now on account of Max the Psychic Life Coach. Namaste.
I was mindful of my breathing when I visited Hookah House with Velvet this weekend - but mostly because of the smell. It seemed to be a combination of cigarette butts, bong water, beer cans and the spray cleaner they used to wipe up spills. The living area was free of dirty socks, but something vaguely like musky sweat hung in the air. Maybe it was testosterone. Velvet's room kind of smells like that now. It's as if his luggage absorbed Eau de Frat House. I can't say it's attractive.
Most of my extended family is perplexed that Velvet has joined a fraternity - most likely because they remember that when I was at the University of Texas at Austin, I hated those smug-assed motherfuckers, and I hated those sanctimonious heifers in the sororities too. Once I saw Hookah House, I could see that the Hookahs are not smug-assed motherfuckers. I'm not sure exactly what they are, but it's more along the lines of Animal House.
Since my brother happened to be at Big Beautiful Private University with his cameras last weekend, I talked him into taking some pictures so that my family's collective mind could rest easy, secure in the knowledge that Velvet is not on an elitist trajectory leading to a job on Wall Street. More likely it's an elitist trajectory leading somewhere ridiculous, but since he comes from a family that values story above most everything except character, then I really don't know what else we can expect.
The Values and Priorities of Hookah House are clearly visible. The basement kitchen indicates that cooking, for example, is not a priority:
Clean clothes are important, though. Velvet says the crutch makes this machine run better:
The brothers don't seem to care much about the carpet:
But this little refrigerator in the living room practically sparkles:
We can safely say they value cable TV:
And they are starting to explore gardening:
Now that Velvet has all the rights and privileges of a Brother, he will be Velvet no longer. He prefers to be known by his pledge names -- Tiny Dancer or Helen Keller. Tiny Dancer after the well known Elton John/Bernie Taupin song. He sang the hell out of this song all semester, and he can really carry the chorus.
He got the handle Helen Keller as a result of the incident with the Douchers (Velvet Gets Arrested, Stonerdate 04.17.2010). The brothers had already determined that Velvet doesn't notice a thing going on around him, which makes him effectively Blind & Deaf. After the arrest, they added Dumb so he became Helen Keller which seems appropriate to me, but it looks like Tiny is going to stick. I don't know what to call him anymore, so for the moment I'm going back to Baby.
The best part of the whole Hookah experience is that Baby can't officially be on the fraternity's roster until he has a cumulative GPA of 2.5. He is absolutely dedicated to getting on that roster, so I'm pretty sure his days on academic probation will soon be over. As I have already said, it's hard to believe that a fraternity house with a six foot bong could be a source of structure and support, but I'm grateful for blessings whenever they appear.
It will fall to shit again soon enough because that's the way of the world, so I'm savoring the moment. And breathing. I'm all into mindful breathing right now on account of Max the Psychic Life Coach. Namaste.
I was mindful of my breathing when I visited Hookah House with Velvet this weekend - but mostly because of the smell. It seemed to be a combination of cigarette butts, bong water, beer cans and the spray cleaner they used to wipe up spills. The living area was free of dirty socks, but something vaguely like musky sweat hung in the air. Maybe it was testosterone. Velvet's room kind of smells like that now. It's as if his luggage absorbed Eau de Frat House. I can't say it's attractive.
Most of my extended family is perplexed that Velvet has joined a fraternity - most likely because they remember that when I was at the University of Texas at Austin, I hated those smug-assed motherfuckers, and I hated those sanctimonious heifers in the sororities too. Once I saw Hookah House, I could see that the Hookahs are not smug-assed motherfuckers. I'm not sure exactly what they are, but it's more along the lines of Animal House.
Since my brother happened to be at Big Beautiful Private University with his cameras last weekend, I talked him into taking some pictures so that my family's collective mind could rest easy, secure in the knowledge that Velvet is not on an elitist trajectory leading to a job on Wall Street. More likely it's an elitist trajectory leading somewhere ridiculous, but since he comes from a family that values story above most everything except character, then I really don't know what else we can expect.
The Values and Priorities of Hookah House are clearly visible. The basement kitchen indicates that cooking, for example, is not a priority:
Clean clothes are important, though. Velvet says the crutch makes this machine run better:
The brothers don't seem to care much about the carpet:
But this little refrigerator in the living room practically sparkles:
We can safely say they value cable TV:
And they are starting to explore gardening:
Now that Velvet has all the rights and privileges of a Brother, he will be Velvet no longer. He prefers to be known by his pledge names -- Tiny Dancer or Helen Keller. Tiny Dancer after the well known Elton John/Bernie Taupin song. He sang the hell out of this song all semester, and he can really carry the chorus.
He got the handle Helen Keller as a result of the incident with the Douchers (Velvet Gets Arrested, Stonerdate 04.17.2010). The brothers had already determined that Velvet doesn't notice a thing going on around him, which makes him effectively Blind & Deaf. After the arrest, they added Dumb so he became Helen Keller which seems appropriate to me, but it looks like Tiny is going to stick. I don't know what to call him anymore, so for the moment I'm going back to Baby.
The best part of the whole Hookah experience is that Baby can't officially be on the fraternity's roster until he has a cumulative GPA of 2.5. He is absolutely dedicated to getting on that roster, so I'm pretty sure his days on academic probation will soon be over. As I have already said, it's hard to believe that a fraternity house with a six foot bong could be a source of structure and support, but I'm grateful for blessings whenever they appear.
posted by PENolan at
7:17 AM
8 Comments:
Wellllll, I have to say, starting with college, I never met a frat fucker I ever liked. But of course, I have a bad attitude...so I've been told on many a button-down occasion. I am thinking Velvet could prove to be the exception from what I've read about the lad.
Jaded, From the way he is looking forward to having freshmen minions to do his laundry next year, your suggestion to name him Ming the Merciless may be right on target.
Gingi - Hookah House is not that different from some of The Man From San Antone's houses back at UT, or from the Junk's House either, come to think of it. Too bad you were stuck on Mearns Meadow!
That looks pretty clean compared to the frat houses I've seen.
I'm not sure exactly what they are, but it's more along the lines of Animal House.
Now that sounds like my kind of place.
But this little refrigerator in the living room practically sparkles:
Its nice they have their priorities in the right order. The only thing I will even begin to criticize is that they seem to need more beer.
Hey T, I agree with Beach, they need more beer! Where is Hookah House anyway?
Velvet sounds to be the same age as my son, 18, just returned from freshman year at RIT.
Hey, before you go back to Texas, we should get together for lunch...I'm butyin.
I'm in the city on weekends, how about some Europan on 66th and Columbus? I work at ABC on that block.
BTW, I just published my first book, Shock and Awe on America. It's available at https://www.createspace.com/3438938
Congratulations on the publication of your book, Teeluck. Since I rarely turn down a free lunch, we can start making arrangements through the blog's email address
menopausalstoners@yahoo.com. I'm not moving to Texas until this time next year if I can help it which means you should be able to catch me reading at KGB in July if you're in town.
As for the beer - there were only two other guys at the house last week when Velvet was up there for his first mug shot, and that was what was left of the replacement 30 rack I purchased a few hours before that photo was taken. Hookah House is in Syracuse, but that's a secret.
V.V., as it happens, the fellows had been tidying up and had taken out the trash. They are fixing to paint and replace the living room rugs. I suggested replacing the busted toilet seat in the main floor bathroom so that chicks will like them better.
Lawrence - I'll be sure to think about it.
I think if I had a child who wanted to join frat/sorority, I'd have to sit them down and tell them that they will be paying for my Valium for as long as they're in college. But from the sounds of it, Hookah House seems to be kind of... decent, so I'm glad that's all working out for Velvet/Tiny Dancer/Hellen Keller. Their kitchen still scares me, though.
The kitchen was alarming - especially with that silly goose under the counter, but the bathrooms were surprisingly okay.
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