My Rather Random Life

"Trap House":  A term used to define a crack house, or the surroundings in which a drug dealer or (trap star) would use to make their profit. Also referred to as "up the way". Thank you, Urban Dictionary.     In my younger and much wilder days, when I still had hair, I took up residence in a house that could match the definition above. Just without the crack. If you were looking for most anything else to alter your perceptions, that was the place to hang out though. It was loud and dirty. Grungy and hardcore. Somewhere between the gutter and the stars. Some nights there were even mini-raves with glow sticks hung from the ceiling fans and that abominable techno kept me awake. Needless to say, there was very little chill there.      Having lived there for some time, I got familiar with a lot of the faces that came through. It was mostly a younger crowd. Around my age and a couple years younger. A few of these folks I knew since they were little snots who were...

     Before I can even get into the conversation this man and I had, I have to explain a few things about him. Dale used to be a roadie for a bunch of 90’s bands; The Offspring, Soundgarden, and Dave Matthew’s Band. That’s just to name a few. Suffice it to say, the man knew music. Which was a subject of many conversations. The man also sustained himself on dry cat food, cheap beer, and sunlight. Dale was no stranger to the couches of his many friends. My couch included. Mainly because wherever he laid his head was where he called home. Not homeless, but a true old-school punk who knew the ropes. Or a beach bum that got stuck in the Midwest. A tall, tanned, wiry man with long, wavy auburn hair. Dale was in his mid 40’s and seemed to have never outgrown his youth when it came to the way he partied. Often showing up drunk or high wherever he found himself. He was one of those “Whatever you have, I will take.” kind of addicts. Though, I don’t hold any of this against him. Thi...