Yep, I have officially been unemployed for one month (over the weekend) and it feels great. Or, “government scholarship” as I like to call it. And to celebrate, I helped my friend Kirk move into his new house, and I went to see The Dead play in Camden.

You may be asking yourselves, “The Dead? Is that similar to The Grateful Dead?” to which I would reply, “Why, yes it is! How observant of you.”

So before I went up to Kirk’s apartment Thursday night, I stopped off at Matt’s to pick up my camping grill, and my big ass cooler, both of which severely needed cleaning. At that point, I was reminded on why I stopped loaning things to Matt – you always get them back looking like shit.

So I hopped over to Kirk’s and we started moving him out of his apartment. Well, to be more chronologically accurate, the actual moving came later. Since most of his shit had yet to be packed, I pretty much sat around while he packed his belongings. Hey, I had agreed to move him, not pack him. Also, I found out that we would be doing this alone. Where was his brother? Where were his other friends?

When I moved, I had a team of eight working at full steam, and we busted it out in only a few hours. This move took three days between the two of us. Luckily, he hired movers for the larger, heavier pieces of furniture.

So let this be a lesson to you. If a friend asks you to help him move, say no. Or, at least make sure you’re not the only pack mule.

So on Saturday afternoon, Kirk and I drove over to Lee’s and we drove over to the Tweeter Center in beautiful downtown Camden. Again, I’m glossing over the two hour drive it took to travel about twenty miles.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Camden’s scenic waterfront residential district, here is a typical block: crackhouse, crackhouse, junkyard (oops, that’s actually someone’s front yard. My mistake.), burned out tenement, abandoned crackhouse, actual junkyard.

Picturesque, n’est-ce pas?

So we met up with five other friends of Lee and grilled, and drank, and drank and grilled until it was time to go to the venue. Did I mention that the parking lot had a beautiful view of the shipyard? No? Well it did. And the fence had “Chocks Only” spraypainted across it. If anyone could tell me what a “Chock” is, I would be very appreciative.

So we sat on the lawn for the first set because while Lee, Kirk, Morgan, and I had seats, the others did not. We moved down to the seats for the second set, which rocked by the way. This was my first Dead show and it met my every expectation. It simply rocked.

Kirk, of course, got completely drunk and made an ass of himself, and me by association. One of Lee’s friends, a really cool woman named Carol, was pretty much the brunt of Kirk’s dumbass-ery, as he kept calling her Kelly, and Caroline. Even after we corrected him numerous times. Ah well.

But on to the good news. See, there was cause for celebration this weekend. Yours truly, is now officially un-unemployed. Yes, dear reader, I have a job. No, I’m not flipping burgers. I am now the Senior Project Engineer for a chlor-alkali plant in Delaware. Luckily, I just got laid off from a chlor-alkali facility, and ironically, this plant is next door to my old workplace. Woohoo!

Dear Jeff,

Recently, I went camping and forgot my pocketknife and a lighter. Luckily, someone in our group was a smoker so we were able to get the grill started, and the campfire lit. Have you ever been in such a situation? Were you ever a boyscout? I couldn’t help wondering, “What would Jeff do if he forgot his lighter while camping?”

Grizzly Adams

Dear Grizzly Adams,

First of all, let me start off by saying that there are no Jewish boyscouts. As a wee lad, my vacations involved hotel reservations and air conditioning. I was never interested in getting a merit badge in Distance Peeing or whatever the hell you get them in.

That being said, I do enjoy camping. Not so much the woods type, more of the beach variety. But anyway, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to forget a lighter.

However, if like Grizz here, you find yourself in a predicament without fire, just hike back and use the cigarette lighter that comes standard with every car sold since the Model Fuckin’-A. Retard. Jeez. Where’s natural selection when you need it?

Days until I start work: 13