So I’m watching ‘Change Your Brain, Change Your Life’ on PBS Sunday, some guy who’s got a lot of pictures of brains is telling me how I can keep from getting stupid in my old age. The pictures looked like they took a lot of work to get, so I think he knew what he was talking about.

Things that are good for your brain include

  • Exercise
  • Blueberrys
  • Gettin’ busy
  • Interacting with people

Things that aren’t good for your brain:

  • Hitting things with your head
  • caffeine
  • Heroine
  • Alcohol

As I watched and thought about some simple ways I could make my brain into a super-villain monster brain, my former roommate Steve called me up. “Ernie is down at South Beach, you want to go have a few beers?” So off I went.

Fast forward four hours, and more than a few beers. Steve, Ernie, my roommate Chris and myself are at a kareoke bar scouting lead singers for the band Ernie and I are apparently starting. Possibly due to a mediocre ‘Ice, Ice, Baby’ Steves eyes droop and his head hits the table. When the bouncer tells him he has to keep his head up if he wants to stay, he replies “Don’t touch me.” The bouncer tries to explain that he can’t let Steve pass out in the bar, but after a brief conversation it’s clear he only has one option: Bear hug Steve off the ground and remove him from the premisis.

As the rest of us take a last drink, Steve is charging back in waving his finger, and is quickly removed again. We catch up at the front door and put ourselves between the bouncer and Steve. I tell him “This place is dead anyway” in an attempt to get him to stop trying to get back in. He eventually concedes and we start making our way back home.

Ernie stops in to grab a pack of smokes, I follow him in to tell him to hurry up cause Steve really wants to drive home. Ernie doesn’t care. Chris is trying to babysit Steve, we text back and forth:

Chris: You better hurry he is going

Brett: Tell him to wait for ernie

Chris: He said fuck ernie don’t worry about it

Chris: Good thing is he doesn’t seem to remember what direction his car is

Just before that last one I told Ernie we should go so Steve wouldn’t kill himself trying to drive to Tijauna, to which Ernie replied “He doesn’t know where his car is.” Chris joined us for a beer after Steve took off to parts unknown.

We get back to the apartment to find the window open from Steve’s cat-burglar like entrance and our hero is passed out on the floor with his head on the couch. When I woke up in the morning Ernie was gone but had decorated Steve with some recycling.

Looking back, I can check off learning for Sunday (all about the brain), had some good social interaction, but I did drink some alcohol, so I’ll call it a wash for brain health. I don’t think I can say the same for Steve.

And if you’re wondering, Ernie and I did not find our Axl, but as soon as I learn to play a bass the band will start rocking. Suggestions for a band name would be appreciated.