Sunday, February 28, 2010

To Catch a Thief

I wrote this a long time ago, updated it where it needed to be updated. I always wonder if this dude is still out there.

So there I am, stoned. How many stories can I tell that start like that? Every one that’s how many. So there I am stoned, approaching the Charlie Parker section when out of the corner of my eye I see him. “Shit” I say to myself, there’s no way that guy will recognize me at this point, it was….over 15 years ago now. “Fuck, he’s listening to jazz now?” Perhaps he always was though. I would assume that he would only listen to Led Zeppelin and Ozzy if he was doing what he was doing when I first encountered him. Looks like he gained a little weight. Has the glasses on, looks sort of like a computer programmer, or maybe someone who works at Radio Shack ( let me just say that Radio Shack is the worst thing in the history of things that have existed in the world. You go in there and first of all, they don’t have anything good whatsoever. There is not one good thing. And if you say they are different now like Sears, because they carry all these top name products now, I’ll tell you to shove a box of 9 volt [my favorite member of the battery family] batteries up your ass, as Radio Shack is not good now. I don’t care who they have doing their television ads now, I don’t care if the logo is hip now. I don’t care if when you think of Radio Shack you think of Radiohead. It’s 2 things that stink Radio’s and Shack’s. When I think of the radio I think of noisy static and shittier music. When I think of a shack, I think of an old run down fucking shack, not somewhere I want to buy stereo equipment. Anyone who buys anything from Radio Shack other than a fucking LED light or something is an asshole, and should not be allowed to listen to music or use anything electronic. You go in there to buy something, and first off they ask you for all this shit…name, address, phone number, social security number, the last time you listened to Vampire Weekend{this obviously is probably more often than not answered “yes” in the Radio Shack environment if you catch my drift}, mothers maiden name, all to buy a fucking fuse for 29 cents. Fuck that, I’ll take my business elsewhere.) or some geek like that. So I quickly make my way out of the jazz section, as the guy is there, and secondly, there’s nothing there I need right now anyway. I guess I should back up a little.

So years ago when I had a skateboard and my prom would be a couple years later where we would hear all sorts of 80’s songs because it was the 80’s, not because it was an “80’s themed prom” (I tell you, being in junior high, and high school in the 80’s was not fun. It wasn’t like those John Hughes movies. It wasn’t like Saved By the Bell, it sucked. The clothes people wore were so god-awful it wasn’t even funny. Ronald Reagan was in office, there were no punk rockers around where I lived, the pot wasn’t what it is today, if you hooked up with a girl you spent half the time trying to figure out if something was a strap or a ribbon or a belt or whatever, and then of course you were fifteen so when you did finally get the baggy outfit off you had no idea what to even do with the “stuff” So when you start thinking that you want to go back to the 80’s because it seemed cool, think again, as it really wasn’t that great of a time for anyone. Let’s let it rest.). I looked like a dork, I was a teenage punk rock kid with a skateboard, how original.

My friend Peter and I used to hang out at this shopping mall literally every day of our lives. It was a small shopping mall with maybe a dozen stores, anchored by a big pharmacy (pharmacies are out of fucking control nowadays, people don’t think about it, but you go into a pharmacy and the days of just getting a prescription and a card for your sister are long fucking gone now you can get anything you want in there…at any time of the day. They have 24 hour pharmacies here, perfect for a guy like myself who sometimes will wake up in the middle of the night and go out to the car to take a ride and cool myself down. Sometimes I need a bag of licorice in the middle of the night, and sometimes I need to buy a box of blank DVD’s, or maybe I am coming back from a keg party on a golf course at like 4 million o’clock in the morning and I need a copy of the new Michael Crichton novel [paperback edition], either way, it’s now all there. Pharmacies do not get the much deserved respect they have built over the past few years now), and a department store. The details of this are sketchy at this point, but from what I remember Peter may have said some bad words about some girl. For a week or so after that we kept seeing these two sort of scary looking guys in the mall. We thought they were after us for saying what we did. So one night, I’m sitting in the mall leaning against this wall with my skateboard, I have a clear view of one of the entrances (I can still picture the big brick pillars outside at each entrance), so anyone pulling up in a car, you can see. This would be where you waited in the winter for your mother to pick you up after a long day of mall shopping, if you weren’t a nerd like me who just hung out there. So I’m sitting there, presumably waiting for my friend to get out of work when I see this motorcycle pull up, okay, well a “chopper”. I notice it’s our two friends who we thought were going to kick our ass, they look a little different though. The taller, blonde one is wearing mirrored sunglasses, and a bandana on his head, and overalls; he gets off the chopper and enters the mall. The shorter dark haired one stays on the chopper and is looking in at me. I’m thinking he’s going to come in and kick my ass. I hadn’t had much experience with getting my ass kicked at this point (although, a few years before or so, I was down at the movie theatre and there was this nerdy “new kid” eating a sandwich, for some reason I decided I wanted to eat the sandwich, so I took it away from him. Me and my long hair, and my Ozzy Diary of a Madman tour shirt [which was the first concert my mother let my brother and I go to without parental guidance, and I was right after all these years with the date thanks to the new reissue of this classic record which shows a flyer which indicates Ozzy would be in the New York are on April 4th, 5th of 1982. I always remembered the show being April 2nd, 1982. Which now that I think of it, me buying the reissue of Diary of a Madman back in 2002 was the 20th anniversary of that gig. Shit. Fuck. I wish I knew, I would have celebrated by going to the Boston Garden that night, or rather where the Garden was. UFO opened for Ozzy at that show, without Michael Schenker, who had already started making waves with his solo career, we also missed Randy Rhoads who was killed right before the gig, instead we got that guy Brad Gillis who ended up on the underrated Speak of the Devil live record, and eventually to Night Ranger] took the poor kids dinner away from him. Big mistake, it turned out the kid was the younger brother of “that black belt crazy kid Bill Ward {we’ll call him Bill Ward for the sake of anonymity}” So now the rumors were that Bill Ward wanted to fight me. I couldn’t fight him however; I was a long-haired freak who couldn’t hurt a fly. I avoided Bill Ward for weeks when finally he caught up with me. He was definitely the Mike Tyson of the town, not really a big guy, just crazy, and could fight and knew karate and loved ninjas and shit. So one day, I’m leaving school, about to cut through some backyards when he runs up. Mind you, he’s running, not walking. “Let’s go man, why’d you fuck with my brother??!?” “I didn’t know it was your brother” “Well, you have to fight me” “Bill Ward, I’m not gonna fight you” He then says “Then I have to hit you”, and he punches me in the face and says “Don’t fuck with my brother”.), so I was getting more or less ready to run away from the crazy biker guys who wanted to kick my ass for having a skateboard and gallivanting around with the kid that said that shit about his sister. (Un)Fortunately, it wasn’t that at all, as while I was standing there with my skateboard and punk rockness I heard this door being flung open loudly and a woman yelling. The tall blonde mirrored sunglasses and bandana guy was running out with a box in his hand, coming from the jewelry store. He hopped on to the motorcycle, or chopper rather, and they drove off into the sunset. The police came down and I gave them a report.

A month later, I get on a bus and look in the back, and there’s mister tall blonde guy with the bandana and mirrored sunglasses, this time he’s wearing a baseball hat though. I avoided eye contact with him and hid my face for the bus ride.
So now, years later I see the guy at the record shop looking through the jazz and blues CD’s, before I disappeared from his sight I wanted to see what he was buying. BB King – Live at Cook County Jail. Ha (?)

Okay I'll go back to writing about how miserable I am and that kind of thing later on. This was fun for a minute.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

The 21 People You Meet in Chatsworth


I can only hide behind vague commentary on my boring existence out here for so long before I just start repeating myself over and over. I go back and look at something written seven years ago and it is the same thing I wrote three seconds ago. It’s like I never grew, but then I realize seeing mountains, bright blue oceans, long and winding roads, spending long days and nights with a beautiful girl, all of it does make for better stories than eating the same tired sandwich and drinking the same tired drinks every Tuesday night for seven years. I am no better than anyone because I make decisions different than them, but I never regret anything. I love all of them and always will. I feel like I do the best and worst things at the same time.


Improvisation – I feel like if I never embraced the spirit of improvisation I would be stuck home, or just in these routines. The last two years, well, since January 15th, 2008. Routines have come and gone. They destroy my spirit and soul every fucking time. Once I find them and realize they are making me into a boring person, I need to destroy them immediately. Cigarettes. Home all day smoking cigarettes and reading books about dead horn players and fantasy novels and pissing dollar bills out of myself like I knew I’d be doing the same thing two years later three-thousand miles away with a tan and no nicotine in my blood. Now I just try and come up with a basic idea and move myself around it.

When we would improvise in this last band, it would feel so intense. I never wanted to be in another band playing “songs”. At some point in a “jam”, and no this isn’t because of marijuana, you could reach this moment where you didn’t need to pay attention anymore as the music kind of created itself. Doing this on stage in front of people was more rewarding than anything I have ever done, creativity-wise anyway.

Adapting this to real life situations is the same thing for me, especially driving a car. I don’t think I can really explain how this works though.


So I put a text file on my desktop to remind me of things I have to do this week

I haven’t remembered to open it once though

I’ve tried to stop using marijuana 25 times now

pencils are making a comeback they say

I can’t breathe most of the time

I’ve only been to Nashville once

I want to get this shit together so I can rock and roll

dreams of rocking and rolling, and getting shit done
with a suit on, and a white fence

I’m getting some things done
with a nicotine jacket, and a head full of voices

too many voices coming in and out of the ear all day this week

I’ve hit an all time low

last week I started a fire

I must be a pyromaniac

I light fuses and trot away

I’m the opposite of the real pyromaniacs though

I don’t want anyone to know what I’ve created

I create way too many things a day

I burn them

I start them

I go inside my own head and drive myself back to Nashville

I love the way the heat felt on my head there

I loved the suffocating feeling I got

“do you know a good cup of coffee?”

I loved the phone calls to empty witch heads

I loved writing a million songs on paper

I forgot what a typewriter looked like

pencils are making a big come back they say

Nashville seemed to me like a smaller version of the earth

among the Greek statues I wasted more of my personal time

among the remote controls and porn magazine I wanted more personal time

I break a different law a day

I don’t break anything else

I burn

I create

I don’t break anything though

when they tell me that they can’t read me

I always tell them to either:

turn the page

try a different chapter

or let me write it out for them on a piece of paper

pencils are making a comeback they say


Take the sword that you already have and enter a bingo hall/bean supper/buffet restaurant on a Friday night. Find every person named Irene you can. Equip all of the Irenes with swords. Destroy every single human being in sight and then make your way outside where the Irenes and you continue your massacre of everyone ever.


The news hit the town that a new pancake house would be opening. Ted called his friend down the road, Michael. Michael’s wife answered the phone, Ted hung up. "That fat whore" he thought.


Fill every pocket of a white denim jacket with fingernails and ripped up pages of a Danielle Steele novel. Live forever with this.


If I remember correctly we would even put Polo on between our legs just in case we hooked up at the dance at the YMCA. One time, this piece of shit Greek kid punched me in the stomach in front of the girl I liked. His family was on welfare and he was adopted so I won at life anyway.


Penny Marshall so fucked up on quaaludes that she actually has sex with you and your father at the same time


I was in Waynesboro, Virgina in 1998 and a woman with a dream catcher tattoo on her leg said to me "I can tell you anything you want to know about the mountains and how they watch us"


I hate how you can’t control a car in your head during a dream or just thinking about it. It’s impossible. Anytime you think of driving close to a cliff you always end up driving off, sliding off it in ice, someone hitting you from behind. The terrifying last few seconds of your life as you fall hundreds of feet. How horrifying this is. I think about it constantly. I could never drive the Pacific Coast Highway south as I always thought I would doze off and take that terrifying plunge down to the ocean and no one would hear from me and my knowledge of Bud Powell and mid 80’s east coast hardcore again.


We drank a 1990 bottle of Lafleur Gazin and listened to the first three Bad Company albums; by the end of the night I had your social security number, criminal record, phone records and enough information to put you away for good.


"What time does Doug want us at the dart tournament? I have to take Hector to physical therapy and then to the bank"


Smoking crack for the first time, and blowing the smoke into the muzzle of your friends Golden Retriever named "Freckles"


A young man gets into a fight outside of a 7-11 and gets hit in the face with a bottle of Snapple diet raspberry iced tea.


Ray Manzerak flavored popsicles.


All fucked up on whiskey and Fresca, I soaked the rolled up copy of the February issue of Cat Fancy in gasoline and put it in the gas tank of my enemy’s minivan.


Man, when we were at the Ozzy Osbourne concert. Brad Gillis on guitar (boo), all sorts of dudes with thin mustaches and no shirts on screaming and yelling about who knows what. I knew that night what I wanted to be in life: a loser with no direction. Flying High Again.


On Friday and Saturday nights for a brief period of time a group of us would go out, calling ourselves “The Organized Vandals”. We considered ourselves “organized” because we each had our own responsibility; My nickname was “Drain Pipe” because I would rip the drain pipes off of houses, there was also “Flower Pot” who would smash any flower pot in sight, “Mailbox” who would steal the mailbox and any mail inside. There was also someone would cut the garden hose into a bunch of smaller pieces.

We would never have any specific target, generally a house that looked like the people were either not home or sleeping. Things would happen so fast that even if they were home they wouldn’t be able to catch us as we’d have their drain pipe folded like a pretzel in the street, piles of smashed clay and dirt everywhere before they even made it to the front door. One night we stole a number of statues from gardens and would put them on the front steps of other houses and ring the bell and run away. Even though we were causing quite a bit of damage to people’s houses, the real bad stuff would come later on when the group was smaller.

We decided trying to find parking garages that were unlocked would be our next step in fucking with people. One night, three of us found a small one car garage in the driveway of a house right near my house. Inside was a new luxury car, a Lincoln Town Car. White. Instead of doing what you’re supposed to do when you break into somewhere, steal things, we decided we would ruin things. I found a can of brown house paint and decided it needed to be dumped all over the hood and windshield of the car. Not to be outdone, another friend found a bag of peat moss and dumped it all over the newly painted car as well. It looked as if God had taken a shit on this car. A few weeks later we were walking by the house in the daytime and noticed a priest watering the lawn.


The night we chop Lady Gaga in half (the long way)


It was the summer before I turned a teenager, new-kid-in-town in another little Massachusetts suburb, Swampscott. I had no friends yet to speak of aside from a couple of kids who showed me around the school the first week I was there. They always seemed to give this job to these squeaky clean kids, and of course being an introverted, quiet kid I wasn’t asking my guides where the Eddie Haskells sat in the lunchroom. I’d meet them soon enough.

After dinner I would skateboard down to the train station after noticing some long haired kids hanging out there. My house was on a street that ran parallel with the train tracks so you could either walk down the train tracks or skateboard down to where the station was. The train station was a typical small building that was presumably closed for fifty years. Dusty windows offered a look into what was once a fully operational train station. It almost looked as if it was just abandoned at one point and now people were to figure out how to get on the train themselves.


Richard Dreyfuss, but with five legs and no eyes

Friday, February 26, 2010

Most Things Haven't Worked Out

a) I think she was crazy. I know her mom was crazy, and her ex-husband was crazy, and I was crazy, but all of us were like this in a good way.

b) At Lynch Park we sat and drank wine coolers, and I think you threw up. At that age, it was easy to throw up. If you throw up from wine coolers nowadays, you’re considered a pussy.

c) Ted fucked Vicki about 25 minutes after their shift ended at the video store; on the way back to her car he mentioned that he thought the most efficient way to get things done is if they are MILITANT with making people drop the videos in the box, rather than leaving them on the counter. When Vicki got in the house she drank half a bottle of Robutussin and fell asleep in her blue company shirt.

d) At one point on the train ride, I think it was in Nebraska, I came out of the bathroom and there was a woman waiting, the window between the cars was open, and it was dark. I smiled at her. Upon returning to my seat I imagined how intense it would have been if I had thrown her out of the window and returned to my seat to read another fucking tired Jack Kerouac novel with my stupid fucking goatee and cardigan.

e) On our way to the carnival, everyone in the car is a little drunk except for me, I’m trying to give Candace directions, and mix her drinks for her. We arrive at the carnival, and just as we are walking in, Tim looks at me and says “there’s that dude from McNeil’s house last week”

f) I ran out of things to say, so I started allowing people to walk all over me.

g) I may have stopped breathing that one time. Ambulance shows up and I keep picturing those gross piercing blue eyes she had. I hated them, these tiny little eyes of hers. I should have known what was up right off the bat.

h) Children, being eaten by a gigantic woman with no eyes.

i) Isaac Hayes + Billy Crystal + John Coltrane = Luke Perry

j) She ordered the wrong thing, so when the waitress came back, I told her that we would need the check, and if she could call my date a cab, she obviously didn’t read my rules.

k)I had such a good idea or so I thought. I could type this true sentence every five minutes forever.

l)In the basement, I felt insecure and out of place. Every fucking basement. I have a long history of feeling insecure in basements. Make sure, no, MAKE FUCKING SURE, you never take me to your basement. I am vulnerable there. I will listen to everything you say, I will think every remark is a criticism of how I am seen. I’ve never had sexual relations with any person I’ve met in a basement. I’m like the guy who throws up from wine coolers nowadays, a fucking pussy. I’m a fucking pussy in the basement, go ahead, make fun of me.

m) My phone never fucking rings anymore, all of the fuckers who said they would call months ago, they never call. I don’t call, they don’t call, nobody gives a shit anymore. Soon we’ll have those conversations “hey, did you hear so and so got shot?”.

n) Annette Funicello walks into my fantasy and asks where the nearest Starbucks is. I tell her I loved her in “that one you did with the black guy and Don Rickles”

o) The one time I decided to start shaving my head myself was a week after my barber told me I shouldn’t go into the city because there were a lot of n***ers there. I think I read that piece of racist shit had a heart attack in the middle of a haircut once. Who do you tip when your barber dies in the middle of a haircut?

p) To pass the time we would argue about which was more important film or music. You would always win with your fucking film school knowledge, and my short term memory lapses coming on strong in the face of confrontation.

q) The night Steven Spielberg fucked my wife.

r) 1-800-ECSTASY

s) It seems that when I drink this red wine, I decide I don’t mind drinking after all. Don’t call me a hypocrite you fuck. If people didn’t change their opinions daily, and grow and learn different things daily how boring would we be? I like the wine right now, tomorrow I will say I think my friends are fucking losers because they looked at a glass of beer.

t) We got this woman fired one day. She was out of line, and out of hand, so we had her fired. I am a fucking pussy, but I looked her right in the eye and said to her, well I said some shit that you normally wouldn’t say. I fucking told her some shit.

u) Imagine not knowing all of the lyrics to every single Black Sabbath song by heart?

v) A man watched us fuck in the car. We saw him and you started freaking out. Plus, you were late and your dad would be waiting for you. I thought that your dad would probably be more upset at what I had called you while I was fucking you, as it’s impossible to have two fathers.

w) He sent them a card and told them he was sorry for what he did at the dinner party but “the next time that faggot wants to tell me Zack Wylde sucks I will do more than throw a fucking bottle of Michelob at him and his crippled fucking wife. See you guys at Easter - Tommy”

x) She did so much cocaine in one night that the next time I saw her I punched her in the nose so many fucking times she wouldn’t be able to snort anything for at least two weeks. I broke up with her a week later.

y) The unfortunate experience of having to tell your friends you are getting your wisdom teeth out.

z) People who actually enjoy things at this point

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Warm Drinks

I ended up at this bar one night. I was on some stupid “mind cleansing” vacation that I take every so often. Anyway, I think I was in Washington, Pennsylvania coming from Pittsburgh. This place was a shit hole (the city…well, the bar too). I met this woman in Radio Shack that afternoon, buying some batteries for my radio. She worked there, and after she took my “personal information”, she asked what I was doing in Pennsylvania. This was back when Radio Shack would take all your information every time you went in there. I lied and told her I worked for some computer company, and was on business in Pittsburgh, and swinging through here for the night, before heading up to Niagra Falls for some more “business”. After some small talk she mentioned there was a bar she knew of we could meet in when she got off work at 8 o’clock. I didn’t think she was that interesting to begin with, or that attractive, but she intrigued me somehow. I think I’ve met tons of these women while traveling. Just average looking women, with average personalities who are lonely, and looking to talk to someone new. It’s funny because when I’m home I have no desire to meet new people. I guess because I simply said “anything exciting to do around here?” she decided to become a host or perhaps a whore.

I guess she was not attractive at all in retrospect. She was about five feet tall, dumpy looking, and her face seemed worn, and old. I’d guess she was about forty-five years old (I was twenty-six). S My girlfriend at the time was twenty-two years old, and was extremely attractive, and intelligent; so I have no clue what the hell I was doing. I’ve always been attracted to short women, but this was the first time I discovered I was also attracted to women who looked like they could be my aunt.
I showed up at the bar at about seven-fifteen, which was aptly called “The Hole in the Wall”. I wanted to get a feel for the place. It was a Tuesday night and there were five men in the bar, one was with a woman. I checked them all out. At the bar there was one guy alone. He appeared to be some sort of construction guy in his early fifties, he was drinking Michelob, and smoking Merit ultra lights. Two seats down from him were two guys who looked like they were in their late twenties/early thirties. These two looked a little more white collar than the Michelob man, but they still looked as if they were hardened type dudes. Sitting at a booth was a man in his forties who looked like a used car salesman, complete with yellow suit, and a mustache. The woman he was sitting with was hideous. Bright red lipstick, red dress, red nylons, black shoes, long wavy brown hair that was fried dry, big tits, the whole “used car salesmen dream girl” in one package. She would definitely fuck this guy by the end of the night, there was no doubt about it. I decided to sit in the booth behind them. My girlfriend was most likely on her dinner break at work, I pictured her in her silly uniform she has to wear there. I love her.

I made eye contact with the used car guy and we both kind of nodded. I needed to see what he was drinking, so after the nod I scanned their table as I removed my jacket and hung it on the hook between our tables. It was a yellow drink so I assumed is was whiskey based most likely, she had a similar drink, but the glass was almost empty. The ashtray was littered with those thin brown cigarettes. They were here for a while. I ordered a Southern Comfort on the rocks from the waitress who was very friendly.
Apparently the used car guy was the ex-boyfriend of the woman he was sitting with, and it sounded like he fucked up somehow, and was trying to patch things up. She seemed pretty calm, and it seemed like it might have been a drug issue, not an infidelity issue. Oh well, I was sure she’d still end up fucking the guy anyway.

My “date” arrived at eight-thirty sharp and looked relatively good. I think I had had three drinks already, so this may have been a factor as well. She told me her district manager had come in and was complaining about some displays or something. I think I was looking at her body, and not listening while she was taking off her jacket, and telling me the story at the same time. I could care less about how displays are supposed to be set up in Radio Shack. She seemed generally happy, and seemed like this was a big deal to her to be with someone she had only talked to for about ten minutes. She sat down finally and I asked her what she was drinking. She said she had a rough weekend, and wanted to get drunk. I ordered her the same thing I was drinking. We got right to drinking. I think my girlfriend usually starts closing the store up at eight-thirty or so. Sometimes I’ll arrive at eight-forty-five and wait for her.

My girlfriend was home by now I was thinking to myself as I polished off my tenth drink of the night. I was all of a sudden overwhelmed with guilt as this woman was talking to me, and I was not paying attention. Guilt that I was “using” this woman, and guilt that I had just spoken to my girlfriend the morning of this meeting. Simon and Garfunkel came over the jukebox: “….do it and doo doo, feelin’ groovy…”. To escape the tortures of this guilt I thought I had rid myself of when my parents took me out of Catholic school at a young age, I suggested we leave, and get some coffee instead. Perplexed, she agreed. We left the bar, and the used car guy was still sitting there, while his date in red was on the pay phone yelling at some guy. I smelled her delicious perfume once more as we walked by her on the way out.

I had rented this cheap American car which seemed as if it would die any day now…this is the car her and I got into. She had walked over from work. She told me she knew of a diner down the street, and would direct me there. As we drove she put her hand on my knee and looked at me in ‘that way”, I smiled and put the radio on. I could barely drive, and frankly, she should have driven as she had significantly less drinks in her than I did.

I got in an argument a month before I left with a friend over which was better, Abbey Road, or “The White Album”. I’m pretty sure we were in agreement that they were both good in their own ways, but Abbey Road had more of a romantic slant to it, “The White Album” was classic, but a lot to swallow if not in the right mood. It was now I realized we were right. The local rock station was playing side one of Abbey Road, we tuned in at the beginning of “Something”, my favorite Beatles song. I don’t think there’s a more beautiful song out there. I remember the first time my girlfriend and I broke up, about a year later, we got back together, and were listening to the Beatles the night we “got back together”

She told me we should stop by my hotel before we went there, she needed to use the ladies room, and hated public restrooms. I said this would be okay, and my heart started beating a lot faster. I pulled into the parking lot, right in front of the room. I lay on the bed waiting for her to come out, as the television was playing a movie I wasn’t that familiar with. I think Wesley Snipes was in it, and something happened at the White House. She was in there for about ten minutes it seemed, although I was a bit drunk, so it could have been longer. I was looking around the room at all of the shit I had brought in from the car and thought of how I needed to get more organized when I get home. That is exactly what I need to do FIRST.
She emerged from the bathroom, and announced she was feeling a bit dizzy, and would like to hang out here for a while. I agreed as she plopped down on the bed. I was laying with my back against the back of the bed, and she was on her stomach, she put her arm around my stomach, and started lightly brushing my side with her hand. I changed the channel to Tom Snyder, he was interviewing Sandra Bullock. I always though my girlfriend looked a little like Sandra Bullock, Speed era Bullock that is. I mean my girlfriend isn’t as thin as Sandra, but has almost the same facial features. She was probably long asleep at this point, it was past one in the morning, and she always went to bed before midnight. At about three in the morning my “date” finally passed out. In a drunken haze earlier, she told me she had not had sex in over two years. I found this hard to believe, but she seemed okay. I told her it had been about a month for me, which was true. I guess I had plans to change that earlier in the night, but as Tom Snyder and Sandra Bullock lulled me to sleep I had different plans.
I think I left the hotel at five-thirty in the morning. I made the least amount of sound possible as I moved all of my stuff out. I paid the front desk, and left. I have no idea when my “date” woke up.

I arrived home nine hours later somehow and was greeted by five new messages on my machine from my girlfriend, she needed to talk to me apparently as soon as I got in she explained. I wasn’t supposed to be home for one more day, so I gave her a surprise ring...

At nine o’ clock the previous night my girlfriend left work with her co-worker who I always thought had some sort of crush on her, but seemed pretty harmless. They then went to his place to drink with some friends. People left his apartment around one in the morning. She stayed there. She got home nine hours after that.

Wish You Were Here

I’m through with lighting fires and throwing hand grenades at burning cars and boats I mean I haven’t been on a boat in a while people get killed on boats people they get killed every day boats cars guns knives diseases you know the works I’ll have it large with the works on it.


I’m through with answering the phone at this point. I do not need to ever answer the phone it rings and the sound is so similar to that of my alarm clock in the morning well to tell you the truth it has the same soul as the alarm clock if you know what I mean my cell phone has a soul and it’s the same dark soul my alarm clock shares no big deal it’s just something I find easy to ignore.


They made this community out of breaking laws and sins they come by the house here and there and try to get me to buy I ain’t buying though I can hardly imagine the products being worthy in my existence I can’t imagine how their community of people has lasted this long they will be gone with the rap singers and the white kids with turntables for cocks.


I murdered 14 people in the state of Virginia over the weekend nobody will notice them gone they weren’t taken or anything I was initially confused as to where I was at I thought I may have been somewhere else until I realized there are two of me now I have a pet that does some of the other chores I need to get done day to day this pet went down to Virginia for me this past weekend and got some people done for me while I vacationed amongst the bizarre dichotomy of snow and dark roads.


It seems that once you shake someones hand you’re in it for the long run tonight I sat here and shook my own hand and then took myself out into the backyard wow what a view from up here wow what a view I have when I go on the roof too it’s kind of funny to think that I lived in the basements of churches and restaurants for years like I did back in the seventies.


The dog simply told me that it was upset at the recent rule imposed in the house of no running around the dog then told me that my father made too many absurd rules I can’t say I blame the dog my father has a way of making these rules that seem fit for just a dog or just a person or just him he has his own silly rules like no smoking in the house he doesn’t want to encourage us he once came home with ten boxes of canned tomatoes and told me that he was probably going to divorce my mother soon.


So it turns out that the best way to deal with the concept of maturity is to completely forget the word exists to forget the word morality exists to forget that you can insult and piss off and surprise and hey you can even surprise yourself sometimes it turns out though that this is not the way to do it who knew I certainly didn’t listen I’m trying to fix this but once I smack it in the side to get it working again it breaks even more.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Because I'm Afraid of Heights

where are we?

I don’t know yet

where are we going?

I don’t know, what’s the big deal?

I’m just asking

well, you ask too many questions

what’s wrong with that?

nothing, but this is a good song, so shhh for one minute


I’m just messing around…well, it is a good song


you don’t have to shut up

well what the hell are you telling me to shoosh for then?

okay, now we’ve missed the song, I’m starting it over, just listen for the four minutes, can you handle that?


what did you think?

that is a good song

I told you

yes, you sure did

getting back to what we were talking about before the song..where do you see yourself going with all of this anyway?

I don’t know, I just want some piece of mind

and you think this is your answer?

well, it should help

I guess

Why don’t you think so?

I just think you need to find a mirror first


you need a better mirror than the one you’ve been looking in

I’m lost

you’re getting all introspective lately, but I think it’s fueled by some other power, some other people or something

I guess I get what you mean

well, look at it this way, you have problems, they have problems, I have problems, you start analyzing yourself, and you get advice from people who have the same problems, you’re getting advice from bad new age books, you need to make your own mirror and try and see yourself how you want to see yourself my opinion of how you should be shouldn’t matter, nor should the ideas some of these so called friends give you nobody knows what’s best for you better than you do

I guess so

no, it’s true

I just need to do something quick though

well, you go for the quick fix and you’re going to be taking this ride with me again talking about this same shit

I know I just feel like I’m at a dead end right now

was that a goat on the side of the road there?


forget it

I just feel lost I guess

well, you can’t be lost if you’re not going anywhere


so get off your ass and do something

like what

I don’t know, paint, write a novel, learn how to walk the tightrope, find a career

a career in tightrope walking?

sure why not?

tightrope walking?

yeah, they must make money


by being fucked enough to want to walk a tightrope


I’m sure there’s not many of them

you’re right, who walks tightropes?


would you ever walk a tightrope?

Hell no

why not?

because, that’s fucked up

can I have one of your cigarettes?


thanks, where’s your lighter?

so why wouldn’t you walk a tightrope?

it’s not necessary

so why should I do it then?

I think you’d be good at it


because you have some practice already

I do?

well, sort of

I hate heights though

no you don’t

yes I do

you don’t

what do you mean, of course I do

you think you do, but you really don’t think about it

ummm…yeah, I’m still scared of them

okay whatever you say

would you rescue someone from a high building if you had a big ladder?

What kind of question is that?

A hypothetical one

fuck you


I don’t know, it would depend, is the building on fire?

Don’t get into specifics

why not? I want to know what kind of trouble I might get myself into

trouble? it’s a simple question, would you or wouldn’t you?

no I wouldn’t


because I’m afraid of heights

so you wouldn’t save the little boy and his pet dog?

you didn’t say anything about a little boy, or a dog!

why, is it different now?

no, but you said there were no specifics

it was my hypothetical question, I can do anything I want with it

not fair, is this cd repeating itself now?

yeah, I’ll put something else on

can I pick something?

ummm…yeah, well, let me play this for you you’ll love it

oh yeah, I forgot that you control the music in your car

the driver should be comfortable as possible

what does that have anything to do with anything?

I shouldn’t have to listen to something I don’t want to while I’m driving

these are all your cd’s though!

yeah, but I’m usually not in the same mood as someone else might be

but these are your cd’s

yeah, but right now, it’s three-fifteen in the morning, I’m not going to want to hear Motorhead most likely, I want to hear Django or the Stones or something

well, can’t you let someone look and pick something with you

of course not

where are we?

the beach

what are we doing?

we need to talk


Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Oh Yeah, I Like Music Too

I've been writing so much bum out material lately I figured I'd switch it up as some of this has been sitting on my laptop for a while.

I haven’t come up with a list like this in a while. Mostly because I don’t pay that much attention to new music; I’ve kind of gotten back into some metal related music in the last couple of years though. The genres I liked or loved at one point in time have dried up. Most of the stuff on this list is rooted in metal or hardcore, which is the music that has defined me for the last 30 years or so. No hip-hop has made the list this time around as I didn’t hear one album that moved me at all aside from maybe the Jay-Z album. These are in no particular order.

Top Albums of 2009

Mastodon - Crack the Skye
I guess if you were going to put these in order this would be the top album. This was one of those records that didn’t take long to get into. Finally shedding some of the more harsh metal leanings for a more late 70’s early 80’s hard rock vibe that reminds me of Diary of a Madman era Ozzy in some places. Anyone into metal or hard rock who didn’t like this either didn’t hear it, or has some sort of sill underground agenda that doesn’t allow them to listen to bands that are popular, or they don’t like metal period. If so, too bad for them as they are missing out on a truly breathtaking album. Why someone wouldn’t like a concept album about a paraplegic who astral travels, eventually having his soul enter the body of Rasputin is beyond me.

Converge - Axe to Fall
Considering it is pretty hard to put this group in any category, I have decided that with the addition of all the special guests on this album, Converge are still a hardcore band of the truest form. Hardcore kids from the Boston area who have been “doing it themselves” for quite a long time embrace hardcore’s essence of community by creating an album that is all over the place in style, but still firmly what the newest Converge album should sound like. These guys have been getting better with age in my opinion. From the first time I saw that video tease they released for the album of the band playing an instrumental of what would turn out to be the title track I knew this record would be at the top of my list somewhere once it came out. While I was initially turned off by all of the special guests, all of it works perfectly. Easily my favorite Boston band still playing.

Rise and Fall - Our Circle is Vicious

I know very little about hardcore music at this point in time, so I was initially not even wanting to hear this. Once I bought it though, that changed. There is no crappy thug mosh hardcore crap on this. If I were to compare it to anything it would be Deadguy. Some really cool melodies.

Baroness - Blue Album
This album will always hold a special place for me as a dear and close person to me and I both discovered this band around the same time and I like to think of it as “our record”. Between this and the Mastodon record it is hard to really pick a better album. This is a truly great hard rock album, from the arrangements to the artwork and lyrics, everything about it is classy and executed with a lot of blood, sweat and tears. I’m glad I found this album and was able to appreciate it with someone who appreciates good soulful music like this as well.

Black Crowes - Before the Frost...Until the Freeze
Who knew these dudes were still putting good albums out? Hippies and dudes with beards did most likely. While I was off in screaming like a shitbag at the world metal hell this album came into my life as a pleasant surprise. Black Crowes have aged into a great rock and roll band from America, still putting out good quality music. This one was recorded live in front of an audience at that Levon Helm barn up in Woodstock, NY. Whatever kind of weed they are smoking up there is doing the trick.

Medeski Martin & Wood - Radiolarians III
Another band putting out some great music this far into their career. They’ve kind of lost the jamband vibe and funk thing into this great instrumental band. Some of the tracks on this are almost indie rock sounding. They create a vibe few other instrumental bands can create. All three albums in this series are great.

Some other albums I listened to a lot in 2009:
Storm of Light - Forgive Us Our Trespasses, Black Elk - Always a Six Never a Nine, Torche – Meanderthal and Intronaut – Prehistoricisms (I know these last two are not from 2009, but I wore both of these out)

Top Live Shows of 2009

Steely Dan x 3 - Gibson Ampitheatre (Studio City, CA)
This would be the first big concert I saw out here as a resident. They were touring and performing their albums Aja, Gaucho and The Royal Scam as well as a “All Request” night. I spent quite a bit of money and went to three nights. I can’t really say which night was the best. I had amazing seats each night (10th row, 5th row and 3rd row). Aja may have been the best night of the three as it’s my favorite album of theirs. Some of the lyrics on that record held some significance to me at the time such as Home at Last. The addition of Larry Carlton on the Royal Scam night made that night even better as he played on the original album. This venue holds a place in my musical history; as a kid I saw Steve Martin with the Blues Brothers here, and as a teenager visiting LA I saw The Smiths (for the third time, yeah yeah, yeah, sorry). I took some video with my iPhone at each of the nights. Sound came out surprisingly well on these!

This one is a brief 35 seconds with yours truly on background vocals

Nine Inch Nails - Hollywood Palladium (Hollywood, CA)
General admission shows where people may start jumping around, I usually stay in the back. This night we went right to the front, and Trent let folks bring cameras in. Aside from the amazing pics and video footage I got the show wasn’t too shabby: opening with the whole Downward Spiral and continuing with some random rarities and favorites and then two songs with Gary Numan this should be the number one choice. I was able to get some amazing shots at this show.

Phish - Fenway Park (Boston, MA)

Thanks to an old friend I was able to score some tickets to this at the last minute. This was my 90th Phish show. I first saw them in 1990. The show itself was okay as with most shows the band has played since coming back in my opinion. Perhaps my last show seeing them...was a nice farewell to Boston and Phish for me.

Wilco - Lowell Baseball Park (Lowell, MA)

My second show at a baseball park in one year. This show was great. Good group of friends who I spent a good amount of time going to shows with before leaving town. The last two Wilco records have been great so it was nice to hear songs from both of those in such a cool place to see them. Show was cut short due to some serious rain. Opener kid from Bright Eyes was the only other bummer of this night after the rain.

Baroness - the Troubadour (West Hollywood, CA)
I had no idea this band existed when the year 2009 started. Like seeing a band right before they are going to blow up and make it into Mastodon territory, these guys were so on top of their shit at this show. Friends saw them in Boston as well as San Francisco all said they were amazing and they weren’t kidding. Perfect segues between songs, some slight improvisation and soul and fire made this a contender for show of the year.

Harvey Milk, Torche - Middle East (Cambridge, MA)
Judging by some of the live shows I have from this same tour it looks like Harvey Milk were playing pretty much the same set every night. I dig these guys quite a bit, but as I’ve said before I think the concept of them is better than the actual music sometimes. Vocals are hard to deal with for an hour plus set, but at least Creston oozes soul and pain when he sings and the band is always tight as well. Openers Torche were great. I have spent so much time with their last album that hearing them live as a three piece was a slight letdown, but still good.

Mastodon - House of Blues (Boston, MA)
Touring their amazing new album Crack the Skye and performing the whole thing start to finish. The band sounded great, vocals were a little off in my opinion, but the album as a whole is so great that it works as one piece in the live setting. By the time they got to the old songs my ears were kind of shot, but they still kicked it.

Shrinebuilder - the Viper Room (Hollywood, CA)
This is that club where Jaquion Phoenix's brother drowned in vomit or whatever it was. This was kind of a last minute announced warmup show that I thankfully bought a ticket for. The place is tiny, and was packed. The band played their whole set not once but twice! They played the whole new record as well as a few others and a cover of Twenty-Four Hours by Joy Division which was intense.

Jesus Lizard - Henry Fonda Theatre (Hollywood, CA)
Easily the best band ever when you are seeing them live. There are a whole slew of bootleg videos and audio of this tour and I have to say I was just melted at the end of the night. They definitely showed the kids how it's done.

Cattle Decapitation, Intronaut - Cobalt Cafe (Sherman Oaks, CA)
My first time seeing Intronaut live and they were amazing. The club was great, this tiny little all ages venue in Sherman Oaks which is pretty close by where I live. Cattle Decapitation were great as well, my friend caught some video with her camera. The singer is intense to watch.

Screaming Females - Spaceland (Silverlake/Los Angeles, CA)
This venue, my first time here, is great. This band, even better. I saw them open for Throwing Muses in Boston, and wait a minute I think I may have written about this very show in this here blog. Anyway, amazing band. A shame nobody was there. I made a distorted video.

Seeing shows out here is pretty good so far. The crowds for the most part are cool, and people definitely are into the music. One irony is LA is full of "plastic" people or whatever, and whenever I see an Angels game on TV or a Dodgers game it seems half the crowd is not paying attention, they're there to say they were there. This was something that bugged me about seeing shows in Boston, half of the time you would be at a show and you'd be standing behind a group of beards and tits chatting it up the whole set of the band you went to see. I haven't seen that out here at all yet. People are genuinely into the music and the show. I have seen some of the same faces at some of these shows as well. This is definitely refreshing.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I Crawl Like a Viper

They pry things open. This is what I do as well. I apparently have good eyesight as I see things. All of it is stuff I wish I never saw in the first place. I go out late at night looking for it until I find what I need, add it to my collection of paranoid delusions. My steady diet of conspiracy theories and award winning documentaries about lying. Where I once held everyone in some sort of dim light, I now hold bright lights over them, unable to break them. I never want to put people on the spot but it's the only way to break them.

(gliding through unfamiliar cities at night. Crystal clean windshield so everything sparkles. This deafening quietness outside that surrounds the car like this orange tinted ghost that has no shape. It envelopes the car in a soothing way and if you go too fast you miss everything good. Bright white moon colored strips of light on the river. A man you’ll never meet walking alone. A park bench with an orange light next to it. Then buildings taller than you are, they swallow you whole. Tunnels and overpasses bring you to another area of the city or to a place outside you will never see again. Traveling like this, quick fast and in a hurry. A good way to see everything in orange and white.)

I imagine just being the eyes and ears here and not a mouth will work out better for me. I feel like I hit some sort of epitome that will only help me out in the long run. At least as far as giving me a head start when it comes time to run far away from all of the plastic and piss out here. Listening to their conversations, you can form a million ideas about every one of these weak mother fucks. You can see who they are from over here. Hey man, over here, yeah okay where were we? Oh yeah lets talk about the money now.

(I had traveled from massachusetts to parts of pennsylvania only blind people would dare to go. nothing there will make you laugh or cry in a good way the way say...utah will. I had ideas that must have left the same night I arrived. The room filled with smoke when I arrived, it was so hot that night even...)

I imagine these scenarios in my head for a split second. They will come into my head from now until I cleanse my head with something, I don’t know what. They show up in my head and I shiver. I won’t sleep. There is no way I can go to sleep with these in my head. There is no reason I get myself into this patterns and scenarios. From now until forever they will ruin anything I try to feel good about.


These fucks with all their protein drinks and energy bars and crystals and fruit flavored hamburgers and the like, do they ever get tired of paying that much attention to themselves? Do they ever just want to give up? Their designer glasses and haircuts. Anytime I can think of a scenario in my head with which they are burned to death in a barn or something, I stop and let that play out in my head for a minute or so and come back to reality.

Sometimes, I just want to be left alone, for long periods of time. Lately I never feel like being interviewed. I never feel like asking questions. For weeks here I was thinking my problem was I needed to meet more people. Now that I am, I don’t have any kind of interest in what people are all about. At 40 years old, I am all set now. I don’t care about things people think I may be interested in. Where they get some of their impressions is beyond me.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Sign Language

(written a long time ago on Diaryland)

Sitting at home alone with John Lee Hooker on the stereo: You got your aftertaste of some cheap beer, and maybe a shot or two. You’ve smoked who knows how many cigarettes, and may have smoked pot, you can’t remember. “That phone hasn’t rang in 2 years” you think to yourself. Do you remember when she would wear that one thing you loved? She always had that one outfit that made you smile. That one outfit that also made you a little possessive too. You knew she looked good, and every guy in the world wanted to fuck your girl. She looked great in this outfit, the boys all noticed.. You were going home with her though. You couldn’t tell yourself this though. You couldn’t accept that she loved you, the guys looking at her were not obstacles. They were guys, with cocks in their pants. Yeah, they wanted to fuck your girlfriend, because of that outfit that you loved. The irony was unbearable for you. You sealed your own fate when you accepted her into your life. You knew you would never forget her. You knew it would end eventually, but you did nothing. You let it happen. Why was it so easy when it first ended? You thought it was going to be a breeze. “She left me, it’s okay, it was pretty much over anyway”. Is that really what you think though? Do you think it’s over? It’s not over, if it were truly over, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now like this. Remember what she looked like when she laughed at one of your jokes? Remember what she looked like when you would kiss her? Remember what she looked like when she was on top of you fucking you? Remember that? You can picture her as clear as the sky. You can see her face right in front of you. The few things that are vividly engraved in your head, among them, her face. There’s some guy out there memorizing that face right now. There’s some guy that is falling in love with that face she made when you were fucking her. You invented that face for her. She only made that face for you. It’s easy to think that she invented that whole look for you. There is a group of men out there right now that will enjoy that face she made. They’ll enjoy the way she looked at you after getting off you asking you “did you like that?”. It’s now 3AM, you’re still awake. “She’s probably in bed right now” you think to yourself. From 1AM to 3AM has been the hardest time for you. This is most likely when she has sex with the new guy. Unfortunately, that’s not true. Your girl is now having sex all night, long after you go to sleep. Hours after you fell asleep to some random Shannon Tweed movie on cable. She’s not safely in bed with nothing inside of her at 3AM, she’s getting ready to fuck this new guy again. She was tied down with you for so long, the sex got routine. She needs to get it out of her now, she needs to fuck this new guy like she’s never fucked before. She needs to stay up way later than you ever wanted to. She doesn’t mention you to the new guy, but she thinks about you. “He never used to fuck me like this”. She’s ready to try those things with this new guy she wouldn’t try with you. Maybe she’ll finally get around to trying ecstasy, something you never let her do. Now that you don’t have her hand, she will try ecstasy with this new guy. She didn’t think things weren’t working anymore between you. She wanted to fuck more men. She wanted to feel free. She wanted the option to stay out all night on a Friday night to fuck that guy she worked with she always told you about that made you jealous. She’s wanted to fuck that guy since the day she met him. All of her girlfriends knew this, they told her to go for it once “you get rid of your boyfriend” She fucked him 5 days after you two broke up. You broke up on a Monday, Friday night she was introducing the guy from work to her face. The face you thought she just made for you. While you had a lonely Friday night piece of pizza in your apartment with no music on, she was getting some drinks in her, and had already decided on Wednesday that she would fuck this guy from work. You’re home, late on a Friday night. A night out with the guys. Down to the bar, grab something to eat. Talk about science fiction and hardware tools, and football. She was at some bar in the city you would never go to with that guy from work. It’s been less than a week, and she’s already over you it seems. Why was she crying when she broke up with you then? Because she feels bad for you, she pities you, because she’s depressed she wasted all that time with you. She wasn’t crying with you, she was crying at you. Your tears will fill up a bathtub, her tears will fill up a Dixie cup. She’s not going to remember your phone number in three months. Imagine that, she’ll need to call you at one point to get something back from you, and she’ll have to look up your number. Her new friend may even drive her by to pick it up. What are you going to say to her when you finally see her? That first time you see her after she dumps you is always the worst. Your stomach fills up with butterflies and air. You were just getting used to eating solid food again when you had to run into her finally. You had to get yourself back into this. You thought you were starting to get over her when you ran into her. Sorry, do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, she’s back in your head. Wow, she looks really good too. Are there any hickeys on her neck? Did she have sex last night? What happens if I touch her right now. You give her the hug. The “I miss you so fucking much” hug. This hug lasts 5 minutes or so, your hands are moving a whole lot more than hers. She keeps patting you on the back during the hug. You forgot the rule that if your lover ever hugs you and pats you on the back lightly, the relationship is over, done. This means “thanks for the hug, here you go” She’s giving you this hug right now, but you have no idea, you’re being overwhelmed with how amazing her body feels up against yours. You are being filled up with all of those emotions again. When this hug is over, that’s it, you’re in it again. You’re done for at least another month. More lonely kitchens, more lonely movies on the television. Shopping isn’t as fun as it was. It’s so fucking over the fat lady’s voice is hoarse by now. It’s been signed and filed away in some file cabinet somewhere. That hug may have been the last time you touched her, or it could have been the first in a series of relapses that you will experience over the next year or so. No girl is going to come around like her again. There’s no girl out there that can do what she did for me. What did she do for you? Your life is now being taken over by her. You got involved with her, and your prize is having her invade your emotions and head until you can’t stop it. You start up old habits, you fall apart, you cry more than you ever have. You’re scared to go home at night, you’re scared to check your voice mail. You are now more in love with her than you were when she was in love with you. Funny how things work out.

Now playing: Converge - In Her Shadow
via FoxyTunes