Whiskey Rebel's Diary

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	Coming soon!! The Whiskey Rebel's Country Music Book online, also look for short stories and drinking stories. Band/writers send your stuff to the Whiskey Rebel to be reviewed here: Phil Irwin- PO Box 1781 San Marcos TX 78666	Column Archives Carbon 14\| Amp Hitlist

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since 05/28/01

05/16/10

I swear on the lives of plastic pig, duck duck and porcelain turtle, this is the last entry you'll see here with this old diary web site look. Marla wanted to do the job right, so she acquired some recent web site design books and researched some nice features on other web sites we admire and has produced something I'm looking forward to seeing pop up here in a couple short days (she SWEARS it'll be that soon).

The new background art is stunning, the reading material provided quite daunting in its length alone, the links even appear to actually work. Of course, I reminded her, as we "completed" a Rancid Vat discography (one of the features you will be able to amuse yourself with) just try to post a "complete" anything on line when you've been doing anything for over 30 years and you'll soon learn that you always will forget a thing or two or three.

The discography is only a side matter really, but it's been a major effort to get it done. If we had included my A.U. alcohol fueled appearances and popups on other peoples records and cd's and our lessor known projects and films and videos (yes believe it or not) and all, it would have been twice as long.

It's as accurate as we can get it on this night in Texas, but I know some slick German will chime in with a few corrections within a few days of it being posted. Incidentally, I welcome this. In the past I took the time to provide some really detailed info to zine people and anal record collectors so that some day they could help out at a time like this.

Same thing goes for the links and navigational aspects of the new web site when it struts my stuff before you. If it don't work, please let us know. We haven't cared for too many years, now we actually do. It's amazing all the mis-information about me/us a short, casual romp on the internet reveals. Rancid Vat has been billed as Rancid Bat on a vinyl comp for 24 years now. I am billed as the singer for the band in several reviews and even a classy book..huh?! I've never crooned even one Vat song. A guy named Eric Larson is hooked up to us through the magic of one of those net engines that are frequently wrong...as they are in this case. I dunno where the "real" Larson from our past is, but it aint this guy. Then there's the endless confusion of us being mixed up with the ever popular "Rancid". In spite of all the imbeciles who believe we took their band name and added to it, the record is quite clear: we pre-dated them. Incidentally, having whined about this before, I don't hold it against the band itself, but rather morons who see me wearing a Rancid Vat T-shirt and walk up to me and shake their fist uttering a battlecry of "All right...RANCID!!!"

It's all mis-information, reproduced over and over and over until it either gets corrected..or doesn't. UUrrppp. I've had Einsteins walk up to me at record shows and clubs in large cities and ask me if I'm Jeff Clayton, Pig Champion and other significant people. Jeff told me how he got very pissed when somebody came up to him at a mall (I think..uh oh,,I don't want to spread bad info..could've been a filling station or truck stop or haberdashery) and asked him if he was frigging Roy Wood ( not to be confused with Ronnie..but also a rock and roller from the U.K. whose gotta be pushing 75).

Tomorrow I furlough from work for the season..for real this time. I can't wait to blow my mind for a couple days and then get ready for the North American fide open chess tourney up in Stillwater. I gotta get ahold of my old pal Joel from Oklahoma to find out about liquor laws.....
05/09/10Rather than discuss in detail my feelings on what's going on in Washington, let me just relate an analogy that popped into my mind.Picture Obama, Reid, Pelosi and their Demo party pals as a gang similar to but much larger than the one in the film "Reservoir Dogs". They have been caught in the middle of pulling a job...have tripped an alarm in fact and are aware of it. At this moment they are stuffing their loot into carry-off bags with as much as they can cram into them, planning on a long period of being on the lam in the not so distant future.

The Republicans are like a historically inefficient gaggle of Barney Fife style cops who are a bit too prone to enjoying bags of donuts and in the past have been caught with their own hands in the frigging cosmic cookie jar.In the upcoming election, one would think that all the Republicans would have to do is present a reasonable Sheriff, considering the growing obviousness of the Obama con a couple years ago, the "job of the century" which duped scores of millions.

I must admit, I have little faith in the masses ability to see through balderdash such as statements I heard on the news Friday from our Presidents lips about how it is now clearly obvious that his stimulus programs have brought us a long way towards recovery. Huh??I will admit that our chief executive should probably express an optimistic spin on things to prevent further economic freefall, but if he calls an unemployment bump induced by temporary census jobs...awwwwWWWWWThere I go. I was going to stick to my analogy and avoid any detailed ranting.OK, I'll shut up and go away..,...That is, after revealing what I've been reading this last few weeks when my eyeballs have recovered from my desk job at work.

I read Ozzy's jolly autobiography (not the dude married to Harriet...the singer of course) alternating chapters with a serious new biography of Ayn Rand. The only other work I've ever read about Rand was written by the Wife of her young, extra-marital lover, who was loyal to her in the end, but still part of the objectivist crew. The book came from the library and I can't recall the authors name, but it's a good book that plays up her importance as a philosopher, yet points out her faults in about as even handed a way as you are likely to see.

People into politics are rarely indifferent about her of course; I still fondly remember a boss and co-worker back in Boregon doubled over laughing as though I had mooned them, when I had merely confessed to having read "The Fountainhead". Over the last few months I've been impressed how many conservative public figures like Limbaugh and Beck have praised her work, while looking past her relentless, life long atheism. The book discusses incidents in which she called out political folks of her day for that very oversight.

I wasn't previously aware of the fact that Rand was clearly behind the ending of the military draft in the U.S...a fellow from her personal chat circle went to work advising Nixon and he presented the case as taught by Rand. She was quite patriotic, but felt it was a violation of our civil liberties. I agree. I'd rather hire pro's who want to be there than try to force inept Gomer's into our armed forces.

Finally, I read a very good bio of David Bowie written by a guy named Marc Spitz (not any relation to the olympic swimmer...). Rather than just run through a list of albums and songs and details, he interprets the material from a reasonable critical viewpoint. He's a fan, but doesn't merely praise all of his work. Personally, I jumped off the Bowie bandwagon album wise in the early 80's. His mighty, ballsy REAL GLAM material of the 70's is given its due. It's a nasty, naughty book if you're looking for sexy stories. Don't expect this book will attempt to drive you out to a cd store to pick up on commercial stuff of David's you never liked; you just might wind up digging up some of his essential stuff though.

Iggy, Ronson, Reed and other Bowie pals are discussed in depth. I particularly enjoyed reading informative morsels from the late Mick Ronson's Wife, who was there on the scene during his very best years. Along with a literal stack of refreshingly deep chessbooks (my brain needs to be re-activated from my seasonal work which will soon be over), I'm now 100 pages into a great 1840's Mountain man book I got in the mail from a true pal.05/01/10I was supposed to be furloughed for the season Monday, but I'll probably stay on a couple weeks more working a desk job in another unit. I was given a shot at it last week and kicked ass. This bodes well for next season. I am goddamned worn out though, my stomach and noggin (slight dizzyness..wheee) are telling me no more Alleeve for a few days, I was told my elbow is a bloody mess...I didn't perceive this on my own. It's from rubbing it on my work desk as I push papers like an efficient cog.

Marla is sick of cooking and working her damned long hours too. When I'm done for the season I'll need to take over. We've wiped out many thousands of dollars of debt and are planning some trips this year. I should be heading to Oklahoma in about a month for a lengthy 10 round chess tournament. Physically, after I rest up I'll be in good shape for competition having lost much weight and with my endurance at a high point. I've worked my way up to an experts rating at correspondence chess and am playing a slew of experts and even some frightfully strong masters to get me ready.

I'm planning on writing at a library (isn't this a re-run from a few days ago?) during several of the hours I've been reporting to work. I'm planning to write based on family members wackiness. At work I've described to a few intelligent people the basic gist of it all. I can tell they are leery about me picking on my "poor family". Maybe some of you think I'm a shitheel for doing so.

Well, I'm not going to write about my blood relations, since I've promised to them I wouldn't. The folks who raised me and were nearby when I was growing up are fair game. The fairness of this doctrine was driven home by my learning last week WEEKS after the fact that my Sister I grew up with was diagnosed with cancer and underwent surgery. After we made the trek once again to Boregon to visit last fall I figured we were all close enough that we'd be told if anything happened to anybody.

Unfortunately, they seem to regard Texas as some sort of outer region of existence that we've reached that puts us out of moral range. Yunno, it's OUR fault we live here and OUR duty to make all contact...even though a phone call to us here is no different effort wise than a call to us in Boregon, Washington State or even frigging Peru. It was OUR duty to let them know I wasn't dead when a dumb bastard flew a plane into a building full of my co-workers, it's also somehow OUR duty to know when there is a crisis involving them and get in touch. Do they expect us to hire a swami or a psychic to channel info from the "great" northwest??

My blood Mother was 10-12 days in the ground before a like minded relation in California told anybody; that seemed ridiculous to me at the time, but I'm now coming to believe it's a way of life for quite a few people.I'll admit I've been bad about communicating to others the last few years. My inability to talk on the phone is a fault I'm trying to clear up. I wish others would realize when they've been thoughtless too, but I'm not holding my breath.

Friends and relatives will read this who have been very decent and outgoing to me and think I'm referring to them; HEY! It's not you! 100 years ago or even 50 a trip within the US 1500 miles or so seemed like a huge effort you'd maybe only want to tackle a time or two in your lifetime. Nowadays there is no excuse. You can fly almost anywhere in our country in 8 hours time at short notice even. I have no sympathy for those who consider "loved ones" a thousand or two miles away to be on the remote edge of the damned planet. If they do love you (doubtful, hhmm?) they'll make some effort.

Those who don't are deserving of roasting and lampooning and in general by your mighty pen if you write. The ones who never liked you in the first place (the vast majority of my relations I grew up with) deserve even worse, you don't need to fret a bit over taking liberties with their asses. This has been the way of alienated writers for many, many years. Go wild. Exaggerate and make monsters out of them if its convenient.

With my writing project coming up, I'm not only going to rake some old relations (many of whom are deceased of course) over the coals, I'm gonna take a couple of hated heels from within the family and make heroes out of them, which would burn the biscuits of many of the living, if they had the interest to read anything I lay down, which they don't...so there...Uurrp.

04/25/10

I survived a couple weeks of OT without a dayoff...sort of. I'm fried mentally. I'll be working probably another week or so before being sent home for the season. Not only will I have time to post here more, Marla's new and improved website will be showing up about the same time. It'll include some mag column archives, lots of info in general about me and what I do and have done and in some form by popular demand I'll be posting for FREE my unpublished country album book since there appear to be know publishers brave enough to tolerate slandering that millionaire junkie Gram Parsons and the frigging Eagles and other country hoaxes.

I came up with a pretty pleasant idea for a book to write over the summer whilst reading a Jim Thompson biography. I'm going to take a few days off after the work season and then report in a job like manner to one of the 2 librarys in town with our new laptop to bang away at it. One of the few pleasantries I've enjoyed this work season is a batch of $5 cd's I've picked up and blasted in my cool 2009 sleek black Dodge Charger on the way to and from work. I haven't played music in vehicles for some time, so it's really a kick. Here's my recent lis of finds: The Stooges "fun house", The Birthday Party "hits", 13th Floor Elevators "easter eveywhere", R.L. Burnside "A asspocket of whiskey", ? and the Mysterians "best of", Germs "anthology", "Johnny Burnette and more kings of rockabilly", AC/DC "dirty deeds done dirt cheap", Tom Jones "best of millenium collection", Angry Samoans "the unboxed set", The Cramps "flamejob".

Currently in my disc player is a Mercyful Fate cd from 1993 (I forget the title). I've listened to other stuff here and there over the months, but these are my recent finds. Oh yeah..I just found the 1st Stooges album and "Safe as Milk" by Captain Beefheart today. Looking back, I'm amazed I've found super clean copies of all of these for no more than 5-6 bucks. Wanna ride? Stick out yer greasy thumb on I-35 South of Austin in the middle of the night and I might stop for you.

04/19/10

I don't hate doctors themselves; I simply hate being prodded and poked, being subjected to "life-style" lectures, sitting on sterile examination tables in my shorts hearing the paper cover crunching under the weight of my ass..nervous as shit of course...or really darkening their doorways for any reason. I visit them only when there obviously is a serious problem in my bod. I fear such a problem may be at hand. Twice now this week I have come home from work and fell asleep in the sack for long stretches of time before even taking the time to pop a beer top. Yes, you read that right. TWO nights without drinking in one week. On both occasions I slept a whopping 10 hours, also amazing for me. HHmmm.....I wonder if it has anything to do with all the overtime hours I'm racking up?? I've always thought hard work followed by a visit to a tavern was the blue collar norm. When I used to work in the inventory biz, long marathon hours for over a month, I'd drink like a fish still. Nowadays I just come home, eat a plate of meatloaf and sprawl flat on the bed, vowing to take a short nap and wake up for a few frosties, but falling short now on TWO occasions in one week. What is wrong with me??? I asked Marla about this lack of alcoholic gumption; she laughed and told me she took a health benefit related self test at work that told her that because she has 5 drinks a week she qualifies as a "problem drinker". Huh???? Is that the standard these days? Did they hire my Mother and her church lady friends to make this judgment?? Well,,,,,,,gotta sign off...back to the plant... When the work season is over maybe I can complete a diary entry, damnit..........

04/11/10

Since Friday was my birthday and I had to work, a small group was waiting for me when I got home late (to them) and we drank a few down and ate cake and I opened presents and such. Marla joined us briefly when she got up for her 5:00 am shift. We went over our plans again for our overnight getaway at a "hotel" in Austin. A fancy one, to pamper me for the upcoming weeks of expected overtime and her for the additional cooking she'll likely be doing so the oven is full when I get home at 3:30 am or so, so I can eat, drink and flop quickly. I somehow managed to avoid a major hangover. At about 4:30 pm on Saturday I headed out the door to make the 25 mile, supposedly half hour drive to the fancy "hotel" where she had checked in at 3:00 pm or so. I was bone weary from the physical end of my job. I was tired simply from carrying my bag which was lightly loaded with a gift half gallon of Beam wrapped in my change of clothing. I hoped for a simple drive and no traffic. Of course what I got was a 15 minute delay in town here and a horrible nightmare 4 lanes into 1 construction scene in Austin only a few tantalizing blocks from the "hotel".

I was stuck behind a bus occupied evidently by a politician named Green; the damned "Green" bus was spewing exhaust and I got lightheaded and quite angry. Oh well, the "mature" me gets angry in jams like that like I always have but switches it off faster than I have over the years. I just turn the other ass cheek and feel glad to be vertical and not suffering even worse than I get. I'm referring to the hotel as a "hotel", because it was obviously operated by the sort of progressives who spend a good deal of time trying to change their language around so as to put some sort of left coast spin on traditional words that must trouble them for reasons I can't fathom. The word "hotel" is not posted outside of the building it's a "guest center". The corporate entity (a utility company) that owns it gets the top billing at this joint just like a ballpark. The guest services directory in our room was free as far as I could tell from the word "hotel". This left me wondering of course, why is the word "hotel" a negative? If it's perceived as such by the management, what sort of Nancy Pelosi loving shitheads are operating it mere blocks from our largest university? There are pictures of old academics from the 19th century all over the joint, how would they have felt about such a plastic, silly willful act of lunacy as not billing a hotel as a hotel?? Even jacket elbow patched professors were relatively practical back then compared to the ivory tower goofs of today always trying to make some "statement".

If Marla hadn't met ne at the door I wouldn't have known I was at the right place. You'll be happy to know that the courtyard of this guest center was not a courtyard, it was a "green space" according to a huge feel good sign near the door leading to it. I started getting irked when I read the welcome letter from the manager (probably known as the "team director") who used the usual annoying green buzzwords several times in the first few paragraphs. It actually stated that their first priority was leaving a small carbon footprint. This pissed me off briefly, until Marla reminded me that it's just a business angle and that the manager was probably just the same old cagey innkeeper trying to cash in on "green" before it grows stale. She was right. The simple fact is though, WHATEVER the hell happened to sleepy bear hotel sign graphics and "howdy neighbor" jargon?? I'm sure that the Hank Hill types who attend U.T. home games in droves and fill that guest center several times per year get ticked off by all the p.c. terminology too. Misery enjoys company and I felt better picturing in my mind some hemorrhoid pillow squatting, chili contest circuit lovin', Pearl beer swigging blue collar folk snickering over the hippie guest center. To be completely honest, the decor was "modern" as opposed to Haight Ashbury revisited.

We loved the room for the most part. The view was right up there with some of the best I've experienced, looking down at a museum district with equal numbers of Texas Monthly style progressive rubes jamming the hotel for the night and idiotic U.T. students walking about trying to make something of Saturday night. We had a mini frig and it was of course stuffed with corporate beer. Eventually, we had to go out for something to eat. We had located days before on the internet a campus burger joint reputed to have great food only a block away. As I pointed out to Marla at vittles time, I was sure that 1 block was going to turn into at least 3 or 4 and that the endearing family atmosphere dating back to the Tom Landry era would probably prove to have soured over the years. I expected mouthy bar cunts in droves. Marla made a test walk to the place and came back reporting that it was quiet and peaceful. I tossed back my drink and we headed out. After taking time to snicker at the modern day Babbitt "green space" sign in the lobby declaring how progressive they were, we strolled into the restaurant pleased to have seen 3 cop cars in the parking lot. I ordered a frigging 1/2 pound chicken fried steak with gravy, Texas toast and a salad; Marla ordered a burger, jalopeno poppers and something else I forget. The dining room was peaceful right up to when we picked up our food. Then, ALL HELL broke loose. A dozen fratboys with backwards caps and glassy eyed post-keg stares plopped down at a huge table right beside us.

I ordered a frigging 1/2 pound chicken fried steak with gravy, Texas toast and a salad; Marla ordered a burger, jalopeno poppers and something else I forget. The dining room was peaceful right up to when we picked up our food. Then, ALL HELL broke loose. A dozen fratboys with backwards caps and glassy eyed post-keg stares plopped down at a huge table right beside us.We started chewing faster, the food was very good I must admit. Could we make it through our chow before being overwhelmed by the monkey see monkey do young men out to party hearty and pound every 6 month old catch-phrase into dust by repetition?The most annoying (and the most plastered) was a cash register jawed, South Padre spring break wet T-shirt contest wearing dumbass who kept repeating over and over and over the phrase "YOU KNOW IT!"The table conversation buzz would stay at a loud but so-so level and then he'd slam his fist down and bray out "YOU KNOW it!!!" like a battlecry of idiocy.After several occasional yelps we polished off our food and made it to the door.The rest of the night we looked for opportunities to insert "YOU KNOW IT!!!!" moronically into our dialogue. It was a bit overwhelming seeing the place fill up with morons so fast, but looking back we survived and wound up with something to laugh at.Would we eat there again if we could do it all over.......1-2-3 "you KNOW it!"Back in our room we relaxed like we intended to.

Marla dozed off about 10:30 or so. I drank and watched the TV which was too complicated for me, boasting 2,000 channels probably 60% of which didn't function. I made a post birthday vow not to be some crotchety rube and allow myself to age by not keeping up on electronics items.I also cemented my promise to take up golf one step at a time. I'll start by re-learning my swing and smacking buckets of balls at the driving range. Elvis is going to go with me and help out with the buckets of corporate beer as well.I had a real problem in the middle of the night due to one other Euro-wannabe fixation of the hotel, er...uhh Guest center. The bedding was the kind I saw in Germany 35 years ago as a kid, one big massive wad of blankets and sheet weighing about 60 pounds. The damned thing was crushing my foot and I couldn't sleep worth a damn.We had already tossed to the floor the goddamned useless 40 pound shawl that they fold at the foot of the bed. At 5:30 am the hotel sent a normal "blanket" with no continental pretentious up and I was finally able to drift off

.All in all, it was a fine stay considering they did send up an ordinary blanket and I realize that the green hokum is really a fragile concept and there is hope sleepy bears might come back into vogue in my lifetime as symbols of a good sleep that is awaiting you just a few miles down the road. Maybe pancake houses will mount a comeback as well...Would I dig that? "YOU KNOW IT"!! Thanks for the night out Marla.

04/03/10

For a few minutes today, I felt really great. My beautiful black 2009 Charger had just been washed and the special paint job looked really cool. I've got a great CD system, which I've neglected for too long. I was rolling through the outlet mall parking lot on the way to the fatguy store to pickup sweatpants, cranking ACDC's "Dirty Deeds..." album. The sun was out, the temperature a perfect 88 degrees.I felt so unusually great, I even reflected that I needed to this more often. Then I reached to the cup holder area for a pull off of my cold beer....As my fist closed upon the empty spot where my beer SHOULD be, reality set in. I quickly was reminded of why I don't bother to drive around listening to music on sunny days with music booming out of my speakers; why my radio is almost exclusively used to listen to partisan squabble oriented talkshows which aren't a fraction as fun at their best.

The huge percentage of crybaby wussies of our fair land have sucked into the MADD mother program. A rational civilization, OUR former rational civilization used to punish people who violated a law and caused some damage. It sucks that even though I've never even scraped a fender when driving while drinking or drunk (back in the good old days) If I get pulled over with a puny can of 3.2% in sight, I'll be treated like a criminal, busted on account of what might happen.There went my fucking mood. What's the fun of driving around sober and thirsty?Maybe some of you who are too young to have ever enjoyed the days before the laws went overboard can be content with drinking lukewarm soda out of plastic bottles, I say piss on soda pop. I need cold frosty beers. Not whiskey, not moonshine, not fortified bum wine, not weed...simple beer. Cold beer completes the experience.Screw it. Next time I'll just send Marla to pickup my duds.I feel ashamed that I've allowed myself to be intimidated. I do know a few hardy souls who still drive around all the time sucking out of a can without fear.

I'm proud to say that when I visit these individuals in their towns I imbibe like they do, like all sensible drinkers used to. Riding shotgun and gargling cold brews is plenty of fun too.Maybe I need to have one of my non-drinking pals move to our area to drive us around. I really treasure them more and more each year. Have I told you guys that lately? Or did I forget to. I sure as hell don't need to have other drinkers around for me to have a good time. Of course I can't have a good time around judgmental non-drinkers, unless of course they get pissed off at the same annoying drunks who bug me: screeching mouthy bar cunts, drunks who invite themselves to your table and stay there, drunks who repeat themselves frequently, sloppy pukers, drunks who have hair trigger tempers around cops, etc. etc.I guess I'll just go back to tuning in talkshows and drinking boring water and being pissed off on the road.

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_______________________

Hostile City or Bust

Coming soon!! The Whiskey Rebel's Country Music Book online, also look for short stories and drinking stories. Band/writers send your stuff to the Whiskey Rebel to be reviewed here:

Phil Irwin- PO Box 1781 San Marcos TX 78666

you are visitor #

since 05/28/01

Alcoholics
Unanimous CD