Tecate and Will Ferrell

I can still smell the garlic.

My olfactories have been taken hostage by the powerful scent, and it lives within me. It has taken a stronghold greater than that created by Pamela Anderson's knockers over anything with a penis. I am wearing garlic goggles, my darlings, and every time I inhale, the air is accompanied by that strong, immediately recognizable odor. Everything I eat has a slight smattering of garlic to it. It has taken over my life. But it is not alone. It has a comrade. And strangely, this companion is the notion that Everything is Going to be Okay.

The Gilroy Garlic Festival was going to be a silly escape from this life and all its concerns. I planned to lose myself this weekend, and seeing as how I would be among friends, I didn't even care that my breath would smell. As we walked through the gates, we were immersed in a world that was blessed with garlic pepper steak sandwiches, garlic sausages, garlic bread, garlic scampi, garlic chocolate, garlic ice cream, and even Garlic Hats.

The sun was beating down on the garlic lovers mercilessly. Discarded garlic chunks baked in the sun, ensuring that everyone knew exactly where they were and what they were worshipping. White people's skin slowly faded to red everywhere you turned, and even the Miss Gilroy Garlic and her court looked a little spent by the middle of the afternoon.

Towards the end of the day, a kind of surrender spread over the festival attendees, slurring their speech and slowing their gait. The Asians stopped singing karaoke. The folk bands playing covers of "Hazy Shade of Winter" were slowing down to play durges that eventually just disappeared without anyone noticing. Even the guys tossing pizzas over large flames were starting to take their aprons off. We were all garlicked out.

The final entree of the day was a basket of garlic fries covered in crab meat and special super duper yummy seafood sauce. I thought initially that they would make me hurl everywhere, but it turned out that I was surprisingly addicted to these things. And that's where I started to realize that I've got my perspective all wrong.

The rest of the weekend was filled with the joy that comes into your life when you accept both Garlic and it's existential little friend I mentioned earlier. Naps, laughter, grandparents, barbecue, long walks, cool breezes, setting off house alarms, a hand on my knee, and croissants. Flawless. I was getting so buried underneath my woes that I was forgetting that this is what life is all about. Truth is, life ain't necessarily so great when you've got truckloads of money and screaming fans and paparazzi waiting for you outside the Whole Foods. Life doesn't get much better than cold cokes in your hand, sitting on the porch with your closest friends. That's all that most of us can hope for, and that's all we need. If you can't appreciate the occasional molasses cookie and loving tickle on your midsection, then you're fucked.

So it kind of dawned on me that I've really been letting this life pass me by. I've been given the gift of a summer vacation and I've spent it looking like a sad puppy. No more! I've gotten a valuable glimpse into what life Can Be! Now I just need to keep working towards it. I can guess what's on the other side of this hill, and I like it. It makes me smile.

I'm ready to get hiking. Might take a while, but most likely there's a cold can of Coke and someone to tickle me on the other side.

Maybe finishing the Miller Lite was the end of it. Or maybe that's how this story starts.

that last part was code. g