Tuesday, May 28, 2013

This is My 100th Post

This is my 100th post since birthing this blog into existence.  Well done Blogger, keeping track of my postings and such. Way to assign meaningless value to an otherwise meaningful post about nothing.
Oh well, here I sit; eavesdropping on the strangest of one sided conversations. It's rather wretched, really.
Regardless, I find the way this woman speaks to be intriguing. She's sitting at the table over, knitting and just rambling on about the shallowest of things to her handicapped companion. This is 100% accurate to what she is currently saying - all I am doing is listening in and typing like a God-bless-ed-maniac. I apologize in advance for anything horrific she may utter...

         ...and we're off...

"...skateboards; I don't know, I just like the shape of them. You can tie them on, take them off for laundry, wash the clothing out and reattach the thing - but Dan wouldn't hear of it. No, Dan has to be the man of the station. Dan has to shove his balls down and fight everything. Eventually I just gave up. We'd spent all day moving boxes around anyway. There were some that said Goodwill on them. I don't like spiders. They just sort of crawl know that I don't like spiders, don't you? I find their crawling repulsive. Anyway, the doors and cabinets arrived. The man tried to tell me that he was doing me a favor by giving me some kind of b stock, recycled trash. I told him, you give me a discount and keep the hinges - they come in a pair anyway at Walmart. You just take those things and I'll do the monkey business. Does it matter? Here is an example...and this is a good example, so listen hard. Montana. Miss Montana is nothing more than a spitter; a spitter and a spinner. She doesn't write her things anymore. I doubt she does her own painting and Lord knows she doesn't crochet. She just spits and spins and twirl-biderls around like a night owl or something. The old days wouldn't hear of it. Remember when we let you in? You wouldn't even be here if not for us. Remember when we told you that you could start knitting and you said no? I'd like to see 20 minutes of knitting from you every night as a place of peace. But no, I have no opinion of you. You're loud and write loudly. You do your things on the computer loudly. If you knitted, you'd do it loudly; but I have no opinion. That is my opinion. Opinions don't have opinions. Shove off. Birds don't have debt trouble and little streams and bridges don't care anyway. Remember how we were talking about sweater weather and screening t-shirts like this? Rock and roll bands aren't going to go around wearing sweaters. Unless it were the 90's - which we all know it isn't. I don't even know these days. I feel like I've been hazy..."

at last the other woman speaks.  "Hazy?" she inquires.

"You know, blurry? Hazy, that sort of thing. I walked down to the basement and did some hand things to make Jerron happy, but sort of waltzed around in a daze. I ate some cinnamon toast - because cinnamon toast always makes people feel better - but even that little brood snack didn't do much but make me yawn-y. I just yawned awhile and watched Letterman. I feel like I've been here before. All of my things are in places, but I feel like I've been in this building, in this room before. My waist just kind of tells me so. Have you ever felt that; your waist telling you something? It runs from my breast, down under here and around my back to my spine. It a corset, but one of truth. I like it. My co-workers like it. If Sheri were here, she'd - oh, I'm sorry. I  really am sorry. I'm really sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I'm really sorry that I didn't say anything when she was rambling on like that. She just sits there at night, rambling on and complaining. More than a few times I've been blindsided - but I don't blindside others. You see, what does she expect? I said to her, there is no nastiness here. She's a stern father. She isn't a mother; and that doesn't bother me. A wool knife I wield! It's my temptress and my calm. Well, that, my fingers and alcohol. Stupid Dan and his alcohol. I almost feel like crumbling pastries around him. Do you know what I said? Do you? I was groaning like stomach pains and just laughed and said, 'straight away, we probably lost her anyway'. Can you believe that? He'll probably find a girlfriend in an actress or a magazine somewhere and go cry about it. I can email Janie and tell her about trying to get in town on time. She's a late bloomer. Last time we were knocking on the windows and shining our flashlights through the trees like it was just the right thing to do in that moment. Well, why not, really? There was no...there was, we were nice about it at least. Dear GOD! This looks like a dead cat! Sweetie, I've just knitted a dead cat! God, this sweater. I've knitted a dead cat and it looks exactly like the thing. I'm going to take this thread, hold it up to the window - its beautiful - I'll let the sun shine through it and - I like the hat!

She noticed me. She's walking over here...

...five minutes passed. I just re-opened my computer and will attempt to explain what transpired.

"I like the hat" she yelled, and ran over to me. "oh, don't close your computer like a little fright, I can't see it anyway - I'm too old. Anyway, I hope we aren't being too loud. We discuss things, that's all. We like free spirits. We say what comes to mind and let the flow create itself. I didn't mean to bother - but I like the hat. Keep wearing it. A good had should be worn freely and often. I'm flying you know; well to the bathroom anyway. Then I'll be an eagle and get my dinner prey from the waiter in a moment. Nice meeting you...and keep wearing that hat."

Then she walked away.  Just like that she was gone and I was left to create my own ideas, write my own stories, and come up with my own crazy lines. What a woman. What a crazy, open minded, twisted dame.
I hope to God I meet her one day. I love a good eaves dropping...

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

20 Things I've Discovered About the US of A

Here are a few things I've noticed in my travels.  Perhaps, now, you'll begin to notice them too:

1) Target/Ross and Walmart/Lowes are almost always in the same plaza.
If they aren't, the other store will generally be at the next exit.

2) North Carolina highways are required to have at least 1 dead dog for every 3 miles traveled. If a dog is unavailable, a possum, deer or other mammal can serve as a temporary replacement; considering a dog corpse replaces it within the 3 day grace period.

3) Hurricane, Dynamite, Toad Lick, Possum-Trot, Monkey's Elbow, Nitro, Cracked Dam, Normal, Effington, Hellhole, Asbestos, Dildo, Bald Horse and Boogertown are all real US cities that I have been to...Atlanta was originally named Terminus...

4) All of Ohio sucks. End of story

5) Taos, NM is home to one of the ugliest transvestites of all time

6) There is a man in northern GA who makes and sells bacon ties at a gas station
      6.2) You can't talk GA cops out of anything...
          6.3) can't go through GA without being pulled over
             6.4) will get a ticket in GA

7) Strangers who bring up politics always assume that you vote like them. Strangers don't bring up politics in the North East...but I'm sure they still assume that you vote like them...

8) Every girl on Amelia Island, FL is pregnant. Why not - there isn't much to do there.

9) "You're welcome" is a regional thing:
On the West Coast it's, "You're Welcome"...but in the south it's, "Yes, sir", the North East it's, "Uh-huh", the South East, "Of course" and in the Rough and Wild West it's just a smile and nod.

10) The Deep South is "Southern Proud" and always right. Go up to any dip-spitting, truck driving, knife wielding, son of his sister and tell him that his home state sucks or that country music is for queers and he will proceed to beat the crap out of you for "hating God and America"; regardless of how correct and/or polite you were. 

11) There is a city called Riverside or Centerville in almost every state...and they probably all have an MLK drive...

12) People in Portland, OR hate when bicyclists don't have a light on their bike. Everyone is a bicyclist. Nearly everyone has a light; because they've killed everyone who didn't 

13) Nobody in Austin, Nashville, or Vegas is from there. 

14) You can haggle hotel prices in mountain towns during the summer. The snow has melted, so the slope seeking tourists have long departed; if you play your cards right, you may even end up with a free meal and strange conversation. 

15) Cities tend to have strange, little, painted things you can find if you look hard enough. Some are easy; others, not so much. I think it started with the fiberglass cows in Chicago, IL, but now Cincinnati, OH has hundreds of painted pigs around the city, there are several Snoopy statues in St Paul, MN; giant, colorful, Swans fill Hattiesburg, MS; decorated fire-hydrants in St Louis, MO; I've found a few dressed up squirrels in Nashville, TN and seen painted fish in Fernandina Beach, FL. It seems like almost every city has something like that.  

16) Dr Pepper bottles change shape depending on the region, people in the South put peanuts in their Coke, and EVERYONE from Kentucky loves AL81 (?) - I haven't found it in any other state...praise Jesus.

17) People are all about what they can't (shouldn't) have -  there is an indoor rainforest in Omaha, NE, an indoor ski mountain in Orlando, FL and and indoor beach I saw somewhere in MI. 

18) The Mission District in San Francisco, CA,  all of Atlanta, GA, and the pits in Venice Beach, CA have some of the best graffiti I've ever seen

19) Asking for "Tea" is a pretty vague, yet regional phrase. "Tea" means "Really-Sweet-Iced-Tea" in the south & most parts of the west; unsweet-iced-tea on the west coast; where "unsweet tea" is just called "tea" - and there is no such thing as "unsweet tea" because you aren't changing anything about it. Asking for "Tea" in the North East generally results in being given "hot tea"

20) Speaking English is 100% optional.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

A Nasty Howl...and an Orange VW Bug on a Wire...

I drove in last evening to a troubled storm a'wailing. It beat against the walls and shook my humble home like a child with a fragile plaything.  My truck and I have been through worse, but eventually things give in. Some branches and blowing debris made a hole and everything was flooded; my clothes and bedding and such.  Eventually, it settled down awhile, I climbed inside a sleeping bag and managed to keep somewhat dry and sleep through the howl. However, waking up in standing water, to 30 degree, Indiana weather, with a flooded suitcase and an endless selection of wet clothes to put on, brings a whole new level of understanding to the phrase, "I hate waking up in standing water, to 30 degree, Indiana weather, with a flooded suitcase and an endless selection of wet clothes to put on."  My windshild is still broken, but the living space is cleaned out and re-weatherproofed. I had to plug some violent wounds, but a quick $100 and liquid rubber go a long way. Tess took a pretty nasty beating. I love that truck.

I'm excited to play St Louis tonight. It's been 8 months since my last visit and I'm glad to be back.  Besides, it'll be good to get on stage again.  This tour has been amazing, but doing 2-3 radio shows a day and never setting foot on stage for a live show feels restricting.  I've had a great time and the promotion is fantastic - I just love the freedom of live performance.

Here's something weird - I wanted to see my Grandpa's hometown, so was traveling through the mountains of West Virginia on my way to Indiana. Way up in the mountains of nowhereville, WV, I came across this museum. It was probably 15 miles away from anything and around 10pm. There was clearly no one there, but I stopped in anyway and found that there were no locks on the door - so I went in.  What a weird little place; full of strange things and quirky little inventions. There were no lights, so I was using a flashlight, but the whole place was done in some pretty elaborate collages, glass mosaics, and strange tile jobs.  I probably spent an hour or so there. What a weird little hole in the Blue Ridge Mountains...they had a car that you could lift with a joke...there was a car in there...

Friday, May 3, 2013

In the Pines, In the Pines...

...and so it goes. What daring consistency. What unparalleled steadfastness. You're some sort of evergreen error in an e'er-changing, forest of human decency. We all change and form with the weather - yet still you stand; unfazed, unmoved, as stubborn and predictable as ever. I used to think it was a good thing - but consistency is only as good as the thing you're consistent about. It's a shame, I'm always the one watering your roots and keeping the axes at bay. I've tried - I really have. I want to believe that you've changed; that it's just your will and strength that's all-enduring - but it's not. You've clung to your flaws and dug them so deeply that it's unhealthy now. It's over, child - I'll find my comfort in some other pine...