Red To Brown To Grey; Mornings That Make Men Wonder About Ghoulies And Ghosts
Stepping on a piece of something … stale cake, dropped confections, toast crust left for feline fodder.
Nope, it was a shard of mirror. We have found them since we moved in. All over.
Under the cabinets, behind the fridge, in the hall, behind the closet doors.
Clean, clean, and friggin’ clean again and without an invitation or R.S.V.P. they return in their glimmering little glamour; shinning reminders of not being thorough or being so thorough that they have returned out of spite.
Shards.
Sharp shards.
I though I had a Drake’s Funny Bone piece stuck to the heel of my foot and proceeded to , while engrossed by a heated conversation of mockery regarding someone I shall call the ‘Reverand’, scrape it off with the use of the opposing inner calf side.
A good rub of heel to parallel inner leg.
Scrape, scrape.
Shred, shred.
Talk, talk, talk ; giddy guffaw ensued.
Pay no never mind to the little things; they are obviously as they seem until they bite you in the ass, or rip open your leg.
Taped up paper towels across a 13 inch gash.
The shard houses itself on the window pane as a reminder of pain that could have been done without.
When I describe metal in one’s mouth (whether here or in my fiction at ‘young broke and republican’) or tasting pennies or melting metal against a taste bud; this song could sum it up:
I hope you listened.
I really hoped you did.
If not take this further information into consideration and recognize my infallible persistance.
Make this rock your mind as it rocks my loins.
They are called Shudder To Think.
This is what it was and should be and is and could be to me and him, the man (boy) I was once.
Many have forgotten this group but I have not and shall not.
Dischord Records (the purveyors of ‘Fugazi’, as well as 'Black Flag' and many others) are the Washington, D.C. record label that made these guys shine out beyond the crowd.
This live performance was not what I wanted to put out there but the rights to the real video are owned by Sony/BMG and they do not offer ‘embed’ codes (even if they are ‘in bed’ with everyone, including Jon Stewart before his fancy political mockery programme!).
Here is a link to see the real video and version of the song which appears on the band’s 1994 release ‘Pony Express Record’:
This video/album version features a more upbeat rhythm, a higher range of vocals, and an extended ending which I happen to enjoy very much so … shorts dampen!
I suggest going to the above link and listening to the ‘real’ version as it is so much better and it could, would, and shall put it into better perspective!
The album this was on also features a cover of the famous/infamous Atlanta Rhythm Section song ‘So Into You’ … I shouldn’t have to say it, but … BUY AND LISTEN, YOU WILL MORE THAN THANK ME!!!!!!!!!
This song could be it for me.
It congeals so much for me.
Hopefully it congeals the wound set upon me by the shards of mystery mirror.
Maybe one of you can tell me why the sharp shards keep appearing?
We have heard many reasons.
Some have said ill-will; others an angry energy.
Some just say untidiness.
"Hold back the road that goes So that the others may too That you let me in Just to pour me down Their mouth" Godspeed …
Grissy, Grissy, Grissy: Where is Richy Richardo? ... "Walkin' around!!!!!"
My birthday is on Sunday and I am going to be one year older - like most of us are on our birthdays.
There are days I feel years, decades, beyond my mere 32 years. There are other days where I feel like a greasy fetus.
Sometimes life is nothing more than a succession of appetizers and other times you get the big entrée.
‘Just keep eating, eating, eating, eating.’ - er, uh, I mean swimming.
I am going for sushi or steak tonight for an early b-day supper as it is my weekend.
I can go to the Lone Star Steakhouse which as the most amazing rolls and honey butter; their prime rib is also, as the kids would say, 'da bomb'.
I can go to Sho-Gun which has a little number called the ‘Volcano Roll’ which is tomago covered scalloped broiled to perfection and dumped over a tray of California Rolls - hot~cold, spicy~not. Yummy!
I just don’t know.
Maybe Bob will help:
Bob says go with my gut, trust my instinct.
Know what I know and let it show, show, show!
Somehow, I picture a very dilapidated me enjoying something that makes me feel young enough to not be what I am now.
I know, I know … I am ‘just’ a kiddo.
Tired of hearing it boys and girls.
I grew up fast, regressed, grew up fast, regressed.
It is a pattern I am doing my damndest to fix and fight.
All said and done, I should be dead or seventy and tongue kissing death in the back of a Packard.
Instead, I blog and write and relax and hope someday to live my dream - which has nothing to do with anybody's anything or the social constructs of the mesh wire pour at the spout's bottom.
Be good until we rock on with our bad selves.
I wanted to post something I was so excited to find, but I know everyone is going to take it personally, so you know what? …
My Lady is a HUGE ‘Weird’ Al Yankovic fan and he is playing this week at the Orange County fair, Tuesday through Saturday nights. She has First, Second, and Third row seats all week depending on the evening of the engagement.
She was the February calander girl for the WOWAY sponsered 'Weird' Al calander in 2005. It is a picture of Al singing to here at the Hampton Beach Casino in New Hampshire. God, I LOVE my Lady!
I, myself, have had Bob Dylan on the brain for the past two weeks. Something about Ol’ Man Zimmerman has made it’s way into the gourde and shall remain for a long time, or so I suppose.
I went to the ‘Weird’ Al show last night with her and we sat in the third row, center stage. He was so damn close and I had not been to a concert in well over ten years - only one club show in that interim and that was Alan Holdsworth (whom no one here will know, but I know him face to face in real life) and that was over four years ago.
Last night he did 'Fat' - (in the full fat suit), 'Eat It', 'Yoda' - (with all of the Star Wars characters behind him on stage dancing), 'White and Nerdy', and a bunch of other classic songs ~ Plus he opened with a polka-esque medley of new hit songs that I just love! I got my picture taken with Darth Vader and his big red light saber after the show.
We rocked on with our bad selves and sang and danced and hooted and hollered. I met a great woman there who had brought her kids and she asked me for two cigarettes and offered me a dollar each for them. I gave her four AND a lighter (an orange one at that - my favourite colour) and refused to accept one red cent. I told her to ‘pay it forward’. Maybe she will read this. She gave me a huge damn hug when we left and it felt good to be nice. Maybe humanity is not dead.
I have had a lot of these fair experiences where I connect with people and make them smile and I walk away grinning ear to ear for many reasons. I really do like people until the seedy part of the world shows it’s belly to me and asks me for a rub. Such a horrible thing it is. Last night made me remember that the world is just looking for it’s own little ear scratch and cradle of happiness and that with a smile and some generosity, along with being polite, we can change the world.
Mantra Three: “I am not here to save the world but rather to save myself and in doing so, I save the world.”
How does this all fit together with my seventh grade Algebra teacher Mr. Tachuk? I know, I know, you are all wondering …
Palindromes.
Yes, it is that simple. Palindromes.
Mr. Tachuk liked feeding us little snippets of fun that would pacify our restless minds while trying to absorb advanced mathematics (his class was the begining of my journey to accomplish classes through Calculus Two by eleventh grade).
We came in one morning and on the board were two phrases scrawled out in messy chalk dust cursive:
“No X in Nixon”
“Race Car”
His swirly, girly, twirly cursive lent to the curiosity of the students as we were used to see his alpha language as symbols of some, sum (sorry I could not resist the pun), number that we were meant to calculate. A good friend of mine at the time named Mike Bohac figured it out right away, much to the chagrin of a girl named Jessica that we all called ‘Gillie’.
Palindromes.
So how does it all fit in and together like misaligned puzzle pieces that make there way into complimentary hues?
This video is my culmination:
Please enjoy your weekend coming up; I am enjoying mine now.
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