Big Paprika

Big Red Letter day for me. Had an almost normal sleep cycle. Woke up at an almost normal time. Ate almost normal food. Took an almost normal shower. Took an almost normal walk downtown. Bought a completely abnormal combination of CDs (Death Cab for Cutie and the new Bruce Box Set.) Realized that my almost normal used book store on Monmouth St. is gone. Probably has been for a year. That’s pretty fucking sad. Another nail in the coffin for my existence in Red Bank. It’s raining out, sorta. I got to break in my new New Jersey three-season weather jacket (with hood folded into zippered collar.) The official color of the jacket is “paprika”. I think that’s why I bought it, other than the fact that I needed a new New Jersey three-season weather jacket. This one gets three-and-a-half thumbs up outta four. Many pockets. Nicely weather-repellant. Fits well. Has what seems like several dozen buttons all the hell over it. Plus, as I said, it’s “paprika.” I wonder if in India they have a town like Red Bank except it’s called Paprika Bank. That would rock. I don’t know if “paprika” is the right marketing name for it. If it were up to me I’d call the color of this jacket “pumpkin rust.” Doesn’t that sound cooler? Or “rusty pumpkin.” Maybe not. That sounds like a lewd sexual act. Pumpkin rust is too close to pumpkin rot, anyway. Ever smell pumpkin rot? It stinks. Now I’m thinking of Halloween again and how fucked up a time of year that was. So much so that it changed my life. Big Pumpkin Rust Letter day for me. Or paprika.