[TRANSCRIPT]
[click, static] (sigh) Well, I think I had my fill of good cheer last night. I don’t think I’ve been hungover like this since I first got on the road. Back in that cabin in the country with the bourbon.
But that’s the spirit of the holiday, right? “Spirits” of the holiday. (a weak laugh) Sorry, that was terrible.
Do you know why it’s called a cup of good cheer? Apparently cheer used to just mean someone’s face or expression so “good cheer” meant good mood and what puts people in a better mood than alcohol?
Or we say that because we cheers. Which we do to make sure our cups aren’t poisoned or to ward off bad spirits or…something.
I don't know, Harry used to talk about all this stuff. She was full of weird random trivia. I don’t know how much of what she told me about any given thing was true, but then again, I don’t know how much of it has an answer. Do we really know where toasting came from or are we just guessing?
Anyway. It’s not like I had anyone to cheers with yesterday. But I definitely spilled some of my own drink throughout the day, so hopefully that counts toward whatever warding off of malevolent spirits I need. It seems to be working, at least, I haven’t seen anything since Estes Park.
There’s still an eeriness to this place though—the lights flicker because the power keeps going on and off. I’ve gotten scared plenty of times by a slot machine suddenly turning on and making a hell of a lot of noise. Music coming from other rooms and then stopping. The power grid here is so strong and still has so much residual power from god knows what that it’s like being in a life-sized pinball machine, sounds and lights going at random.
Maybe it should freak me out more. Walking through what feels like a rat pack themed haunted house. But I’m just grateful to have music and a working water heater. And I’ve found plenty of places to hook up the CB, and it hasn’t turned on with phantom power even once. Until I see someone appear in front of my eyes, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Speaking of, lord, I need a shower. Whiskey out.
[click, static]
See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.