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Diary Archives: 08-24-05 to 09-28-05
"Drink Around The Clock"
52
Pages of drinking stories.
Absolutely NO ADS, band interviews, etc....
We published this in 1998,
and still have copies available for any of you drunks
who didn't get it back then.
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9/28/05
Uuhh...one last thought on yesterdays topic...the notion of judging people by their chosen behavior as conformists or non-conformists. The reason I don't get along with my Father-in-law has nothing to do with the fact that he's a Lutheran or a registered Republican; it's because he's an ultra conformist. Early in our relationship we enjoyed a few nice drunks together...but we're like cats and dogs..different species. He goes out of his way to make sure he conforms to the way he see's "decent" people around him behave..and I feel a little silly much of the time that I'm forced to.
One of the reasons I'm a natural born non-conformist is due to my upbringing. Bob and Lila dragged me to their church so often that I never did figure out that what you're "supposed" to do at school if you don't want to be hated is learn what rock groups everybody likes and listen to them..learn what clothes were cool and wear them..learn what catch phrases were hot and use them ( like "groovy!!). I figured that out when I was too old (about 14) and no longer cared. I was so used to going my own way that I've done so most of my life.
When I wanted a specific job with a decent salary soon after Elvis was born I carefully (with Marla's assistance) groomed and clothed myself like a total conformist so that I'd get the job. Hey, what the hell; the job came with a company car I could drive 24/7 and I had the chance to make a couple healthy bonuses each year. I was the same old non-conformist "me" in spite of my look. I was even a wolf in sheeps clothing you might say. You wouldn't believe how snotty and rude average trendy nitwits on the street treated me then. I understood why then and now. I really do believe it's much more important to judge somebody as a "conformist/non-conformist" based on thought based traits rather than by their appearance.
I've only begun to think about this formula. I think the issue of conformism was more closely observed by intellectuals in the period before pop culture became such big business in the 1950's-60's. There's so much uninspired gratuitous "weirdness" these days that doesn't really shock anybody that the waters have been muddied.
I have a more important topic I want to turn to.
You can discuss egghead bullshit until you're blue in the face and your dick is on permanent hiatus...but the really important shit that happens in life is based on crude realities like dealing with the rotten odor that wafts up from a sofa cushion that's been farted into 1,000 too many times or a bad extended case of whiskey-dick or your kid blasting shitty rap metal from his or her bedroom stereo or uncontrollably SPILLING BEER IN YOUR FRIGGING BEARD.
I realized about 6 months ago that I've been completely unable to prevent myself from dunking my goatee several times per night with suds for the last couple years at least.
It's gotten to the point where I expect it..fear it in a way. I'd like to think that I can control my guzzling better than I have. I don't see other bearded/goatee'd pal's dumping beer in THEIR beards regularly. My hand doesn't shake (I've checked it a hundred times)...my aim (for my open gaping maw) is true...but somehow I always wind up splashing my beard with beer several times per night.
I've trimmed it down from 6 inches or so to city-beard length...2 inches..but that hasn't effected matters any. I can't even really state clearly WHY it bothers me so much that I focus on it...but it does.
It happened just tonight. I took an especially refreshing shower that washed away the itchyness from the sweaty summer cold I've enjoyed this week along with the record high 106 degree heat.
I sat down at my chess study table and riveted my attention on the first beer of the night...a cold can of Miller high life. I wanted SOOOOO badly to not have that itchy beard feeling...but No. SSLLOOOPPPPPP went the beer all over my modest city beard.
I pointed this phenomena out to Mark (a bearded man for 10 years or so) a couple weeks ago. I asked for his counsel...it was a cry for HELP!!
He looked at me seriously...and said he had noticed.
The subject was changed. I meant to ask him the next time I saw him...but guess what?? When we next met he had shaved his 10 year goatee down to an overgrown fu-manchu with heavy love-handles.
Was this his way of telling me what a crude ass I've made out of myself?? that the whole band wants me to shave?? Was this his version of the old bottle of lavoris on the desk of the co-worker with bad breath?? HHMMM??
Maybe the true reason the road in front of our house hasn't been named "Whiskey Rebel Boulavard" is the fact that I've been spotted too often slopping beer in my beard???
AHH HAHHHHHHHH!!!!
9/27/05
As anybody who reads this reguarly knows, I fucking loathe politics. That doesn't mean I've got a bitch to pitch with people who are fascinated with all the rhetoric and speeches and remarks to the press and politically oriented assinine cliches such as "if you don't vote you don't have the right to bitch!!" and "THE PEOPLE WANT..."_______" (fill in the blank with your OWN groups latest cause d'jour).
If you're into politics, great. Have fun.
I think that the conventional way of pigeonholing and eventually dividing American's by the politicians they follw..you know "red state" "blue state"...liberal/conservative, etc. etc. is flawed. I'm not confident that lumping people into religious faiths is very telling due to the fact that folks waver so much in their beliefs. I'm not a huge fan of segmenting people into "classes" in the U.S. such as white collar, blue collar, etc. is all that effective.
On the other hand, there's a great method of looking into peoples souls thats been unheard of practically since the 1970's or so; that's the measuring stick of CONFORMITY.
When I was in my teens and 20's I used to attempt to judge people by their interest in or lack there-of in religious matters. That exploded in my face time and time again. I think I went through a phase in which I tried to judge people based on the clothes they wore. That doesn't work! I've met too manybusiness suit clad party animals I liked and all too many "alternative" dress-up types who turned out to be squares, wet blankets and even christians.
Using a scale of 1-10 to grade people based on their conformity or lack of conformity really works well for me. It's not something I do with a notepad or spreadsheet..it's sort of a series of observations over days, weeks and years.
If someone is a real maverick in even one way it can make up for boring conformity in other areas. Here's an example. I remember meeting a Southern man who dressed in typical Walmart wear..took his Mother to church occasionally and I'm pretty sure was a boring Republican politically speaking. BUT!! He had a fondness for fortified wine and a major interest in all kinds of smut. We got along great. He had worked out a bargain with society as to what aspects of conventional life he'd conform to and which ones he stood his ground on.
I consider myself a non-conformist in many ways....but I've struck my "bargain" that permits me to have a way out, sinful lifestyle without the locals coming after me with pitchforks.
I remember a guy from Portland who was losing it mentally. He did some pretty socially unacceptable WAY OUT non-conformist things. He'd shave half his head, take lots of drugs and go around insulting badass looking guys in bars. I hated the fucker. He wasn't any fun to be around. I remember him trying to weird me out by asking about my toddler son and licking his lips or leering just to push my buttons. I recommend a strong dose of "conformity" would do him a lot of good.
One things for damn sure: a HELLUVA LOT of people just love to think of themselves as being "unique" and non-conformists at heart. Many of these folks out themselves by "conforming" in ways such as the hordes and hordes of self styled "alternative" types I caught buying "candle in the wind" cassingles when Princess Diana died. Speaking of alternative types, it's important if you're going to understand my conformist/non-conformist scale you've got to wake up and realize that somebody sporting a blue mohican hairdo in 1965 was a NONCONFORMIST but that in 2005 they are conformists following a nostalgic pattern of dress.
Is that clear?? People with long hair and a love for Cream and Hendrix in the 60's were somewhere in the middle of the scale. The kid I saw the other day with Hair and a Hendrix T-shirt could be a christian heading for a makeover and a bunk at a frat house very soon.
A pop quiz: 1) Is Cindy Sheehan a "conformist" or "non-conformist"??
2) How about Ted Nugent???
3) Larry Flynt??
4) Jesse Ventura??
5) Paul McCartney??
6) Thee Whiskey Rebel??
7) your significant other??
8) the Pope
9) Al Sharpton
I've gotta go. I'm sicker than a dog (uhh...most of them are conformists).
I'd love to hear your feedback.
9/24/05
Well, we're getting the worst of the storm right now...the devastating hurricane that had local citizens clearing the local store shelves of bread, milk, batteries, potato chips, water, etc.
It's 98 degrees out..and we're being battered by vicious 18 mile per hour winds. It hasn't rained a drop. Marla is out tubing..risking imminent death according to the Texas-bull sized warnings we received for day after day.
Yeah, TEXAS SIZED BULL CRAP is all this hysteria has been.
So much for the much vaunted Texas heroic myth. The people I saw coming close to squaring off in the middle of the aisles at Walmart over little bottles of faggy looking designer water (the last water left in the store of course) behaved like a bunch of self centered Californians. Yeah, apparently somewhere along the line this corner of Texas was "Californicated"as they used to say back in equally selfish (but much ballyhoo'd as "Friendly") Oregon.
Texas horder's aren't worse than the ones in other States. The reason they disappoint me is the fact that we're still fairly new Texans (3 years) and I'd come to expect more.
I didn't expect I'd ever see the day that I'd see native Texans scrapping over sacks of Dorito's like a couple Birkenstock clad Berkely hippies bickering over the last bong hit.
9/23/05
A few final words here with the hurricane bearing down. Why is it that I seem to be the only one willing to say this?? Because I'm just a non-partisan drunk commenting from the sidelines:
The REWARD for your partisan finger pointing..yes YOURS..in the wake of natural disastors is that elected officials responsible for getting people away from "flood zones" and storms will press the panic button and demand evacuation for the foreseeable future to COVER THEIR FUCKING ASSES "just in case" even though in many instances it will only complicate matters and clog the roads.
The old argument "if it saves just one life.." doesn't hold water here; the masses will eventually tune out warnings altogether if they're seen as being delivered to cover politician's asses.
Isn't it about time to use a few tax dollars to once and for all urge people living in lush coastal resort towns without the means money wise to flee from hurricanes and other predictable tragedies MOVE THE FUCK AWAY PERMANENTLY from these high risk areas?
If you live in snow country THERE"S GONNA BE SNOWSTORMS DUMMY! All the assinine finger wagging after a blizzard can't change that. If you live in earthquake country...GET THE FUCK OUT NOW if you can't handle the eventuality of one.
I remember back when Mt. St. Helen's erupted there was virtually no finger pointing; chuckleheads who were foolish enough to stay in their mountain cabins or camp near the volcano were taking their chances. When they died..well, it was sad and all...but they gambled with their own lives.
I'd just love to live in Hawaii or some nice ritzy beach community in Florida or Southern California. Why don't I?? Because I don't have the economic clout!! It's time for a whole lot of LONG TERM WARDS OF THE GOVERNMENT to either move their asses to places either with jobs or at the VERY FUCKING LEAST stable outlooks weather wise so we don't have to keep rescuing them.
If you're dependant on assistance during a bad period in your life..that's one thing. If you have no prospects of getting off the dole, I say let's SHIP YOUR ASS TO KANSAS or IOWA where they won't have to be plucking you off of a roof top during the next flood.
I've had a bellyfull of watching people who drove out of Houston bitch about the traffic jams insinuating there was "no planning" done for the emergency. I wouldn't have enjoyed being stuck in that traffic for 5 fucking minutes....but what do you expect..that a Fema agent will just sprinkle fairy dust on the freeway and make it big enough to magically whisk all these people away? I know how low humanoids are; if the government assigned times for departure for evacuating the area 80% of the creeps would cheat and jump the gun. Hell, wouldn't you?? WOULDN'T I??
As we barricade ourselves into our home to hunker down for the hurricane the cable channels have been warning us about 24/7 for days, I can't help but share one final thought; I hope with all my heart a few of the bastards who horded up all the bread in town and all the water and all the potatao chips and all the eggs, and batteries...etc, etc, CHOKE TO DEATH on it. UUUUUUUURPPPPPPPPPP.
9/22/05
Holy fuck!! I laughed and shrugged off this damn hurricane Rita for more than a week...and here we are..in the direct path of it once it hits land.
What we're facing is petty compared to what a lot of several friends have experienced with Katrina and other hurricanes dating back many years. It seems like at least once a year we watch a storm bear down on Bootleg Bill and his clan.
We worried about hurricane Katrina's effect not only on quite a few friends, but also on my blood Father and his wife in Alabama. Unfortunately, just 7 months after one of their kids (my half Brother ) died she's gone too. She was already very ill and the lack of air conditioning and breathable indoor air in the storms aftermath pushed her over the edge.
It's pretty clear that we're gonna get hit hard here. If we had bought the house down in the flatlands that Marla and Elvis hated we'd probably be looking at chest high water by Saturday. Luckily our house is on top of a hill that is impossible to flood out. We'll still lose power and telephone and all that. The folks down in the center of the city are really in for it though.
I went out and bought a food supply tonight and was amazed at how hard the horders had hit the stores. It was comical how they picked over all the bread except the "Jewish rye" that I prefer and some cruddy looking cinnamon bread crap. I looked for the water aisle...and saw bare shelves. The potato chip rack was cleared too. I got us a frozen turkey that will thaw out just in time to barbecue Sunday when the electricity is probably out. Also, 10 cans of tuna and canned pineapple for vitamin "C".
FUCKING OBVIOUSLY I loaded up on some extra beer. I'll visit the liquor store perched on the high ground tomorrow for further munitions.
SHIT JESUS...we'll have to spend a while honing deadly scythes out of gardening tools to defend our home against visitors who don't have the sense to stock up on alcohol. Bring booze..and you're welcome here; otherwise, go fetch some or find safe harbor elsewhere.
DAMN...what a way for Elvis to spend his 21st birthday (Friday). Oh well..at least he's not spending it in the drunk tank or a church retreat or any number of hellish situations that are far more worse than a hurricane.
I have a lot of fears both rational and along the lines of phobias..but I don't particularly fear a storm as long as there's alcohol and maybe a few candles.
UUURRRRRRRRRpppppppppp.........
9/20/05
I've just been clued in on the fact that bluesman R.L. Burnside passed away a couple weeks back. He was definetly one of the greats. To me and a lot of several of my closest friends his music stands out from that of most other blues musicians. He played with an intensity and drive that few from any genre have ever matched in my book.
I first heard his music while working at Tower records back in Philly in the late 90's. His "Mr. Wizard" cd was played over and over and over by a variety of people allowed to select music for play in the store. Most blues musicians were heard in our store upstairs where blues and jazz cd's were stocked; Mr. Burnside was heard just as often on the main "rock" floor. Shouldn't that tell you something?
I don't really have anything against the blues. I do clearly favor urban "jump" style blues as perfected by folks like Wynonie Harris, Big John Greer, Big Maybelle, etc. to the music of guys like Howlin' Wolf, John lee Hooker and R.L. Burnsides Brother in law Muddy Waters. It's just a matter of taste. I might also point out that I'm bored by quite a bit of lame white boy blues you hear in lily white places like Portland Oregon. Again, it's just a matter of taste.
I played R.L. Burnside's music for a helluva lot of people over the years who are damned serious about music..and I can't remember a one of 'em who wasn't impressed. I'll keep playin' the handful of his cd's I've got in the future for guests...but we'll be making a procedural change from now on: we'll be knockin' back whiskey toasts in his honor when we do.
One of my most pleasant nights as an amateur musician was the time our band Alcoholics Unanimous was booked to open up for R.L. Burnside and his talented, bad-ass label mate T-Model Ford. The audience of a few hundred or so was different from what we usually played in front of. There were quite a few blues purists and also a lot of fans of the Jon Spencer blues explosion who backed Mr. Burnside on occasion in the studio. Since our set included quite a few drinking oriented rootsy covers and standards we held our own.
I was approached after we were done by a couple guys from Mr. Burnside's band one of whom was one of his Grandsons. They carried on and on about how I was a look-alike evidently for a man who produced them in a studio named Jim Dickinson. It turns out that Mr. Dickinson (who must be movie star handsome) is a veteran producer and performer who played on the last single ever issued on the SUN records label in 1966.
It was fun yakking with Burnside's band. They were all damned nice people. When R.L. took the stage a little later in the night the crowd was fucking electrified. He sat down in an easy chair for a good deal of the set...but his control of the audience didn't lapse a bit even so. I remember he always seemed to have a powerful looking drink in his hand between songs. He wasn't by reputation at least known to be overly "jolly"...but on this night the crowd seemed to go so apeshit he was grinning along and hitting on that ominous clear highball glass over and over and having fun himself. It was a damned good night all around. And you can bet I made sure to have him sign a couple CD's for our son Elvis...AND one of our guitars for good measure ( a custom Carvin..NOTE! his signature has mostly been sweated off over the years).
What can I say? His music had that hypnotic quality that drove me up the damn wall. Guys like B.B. King get all the main stream accolades...but often bore me. If you've never heard R.L. Burnsides music I suggest you go hit your local record store TOMORROW. You'll likely be damned glad you did.
If you're already a fan, knock one back with me right now..UURRRRPP. AAHHHHHHH. A great one has passed on....but won't be forgotten anytime soon.
9/17/05
Time for a PLUG damnit. Pour a shot, pop a top and listen up.
It looks like we've worked out a venue for our 25th anniversary RANCID VAT show. It's gonna be right fucking here in San Marcos. FUCK Austin on New years eve. Emo's can't make a commitment...and probably don't want to get behind it anyway. 6th street will be a goddamned nightmare of morons, cops, moronic cops, good cops, amateur drunks on their annual night out to get drunk on pussy drinks and yell "OW!" as far as the eye can see.
I hate new years eve. WHY OH WHY did we have to initiate the band on a goddamned new years eve?? Why couldn't it have been Halloween or in the middle of fucking May..HHmm??
Well, it didn;t work out that way.
We hunched over a ouija board on New years fucking eve and fleshed out the details of the band with a recently dead (from a car wreck in Salem Oregon) spirit named Sue on Dec 31/Jan 1st 1980/81. Sue was forth coming with a lot of song titles that night that we've eventually used.
Do we "believe" in ouija boards? It depends on the situation. I don't think it's a bad idea to get ideas from the "dark side" if there is one. The "good" side sure as hell hasn't done much for me in the course of my lifetime. I'm an agnostic of course. I just LOVE to straddle the philosophical fence. I see it as a mark of intelligence that I don't take a dramatic emotional leap based on "faith". I'm a full time unaffiliated hedonist..bottom line. Since the "dark" side embraces earthly pleasures I have more in common with them than practitioners both hot and cold of moralistic, dogmatic religions.
I'm getting off the subject. If a ouija board is good enough for the Alice Cooper band, it's good enough for us (although I didn't know they started their band with the help of one until we were a few years along).
Our first insane LP (which I just happen to have an "albino" copy of for sale on ebay..only a handful of these were screened..the normal pressing rare and collectable as shit on it's own..these are as rare as polalroid pictures of nude televangelists or bulls with two peckers ) was influenced by "Sue". After that we went our own way. She left us high and dry when we tried to communicate with her again.
We haven't always done anniversary shows over the years..sometimes by choice and sometimes due to ugly booking realities. For our 25th anniversary I don't want to play far from home. I want it down the street in the center of good old San Marcos Texas. I think we've honed out a deal with a club with a great stage that's willing to cooperate with us. New Years eve is celebrated in San Marcos, but with the students away it's not a stupid crowd scene like in Austin or San Antonio.
I've already confirmed an arrangement for our pals from Waco the Hammercocks to join us for this night. We're 3/4ths of the way I hope towards getting Before I hang to confirm to the date...but hurricane Katrina has knocked out phone communication..so I'm not 100% yet on them.
There's already a reasonable number of people talking about coming out to this extravaganza from far away. With a few months to plan in advance hopefully a lot more folks will want to come out to see it. It'll be a good night. Even if the club burns to the ground the night before we'll do the show in our goddamned house...it's gonna happen. I'm still majorly irked over us getting screwed out of a 20th anniversary show. We've got to do a #25.
We are insane for playing in a hobbie band for this long. Yeah. That's clear. We're insane...UURRPPP.
We'll be posting information on it very soon...PLUGPLUG PLUG.
Oh yeah...we've got to record a DVD and have an audio recorder of quality running too. Lot's to do.
It's got to be a wild night. Stay tuned.
9/15/05
Mark told me about "my space.com" at least 3 months ago. He explained clearly what it's all about and named about a jillion people I know who evidently think it's a wonderful thing.
I thought it over and...couldn't quite figure out what the fuck all the excitement was about. He re-explained it at least one other time and I still couldn't quite grasp it.
Then, Joey from California managed to somehow get me to log onto the site and look around. I tried to get into it like when you put forth effort to get into a new bar your friends like...but I quickly lost interest.
A few days ago I awoke around noon and staggered out of the bedroom to get my coffee. I saw Marla banging away on the computer keyboard with the phone pressed to her ear. It seems that Liza had convinced her we needed a "my space" account for Rancid Vat and she was setting it up. Well, OK Marla I thought. there's no harm in it even though I'd rather nap in my arm chair or stare at the spinning ceiling fan over my bed or maybe watch the cats antics than look at little mugshot pictures of strangers and read their little injoke messages.
Honestly, I'm a frigging chess player...I sometimes study several hours per day for weeks on end. A lot of people would go apeshit if they had to look at a chess problem for 5 minutes. These are the people who likely get a fucking hoot out of "my space". There's no right or wrong here..just people following their natural instincts trying to alleviate boredom.
Frankly, I felt a little bit guilty over not enjoying something that so many people I respect are into. I'd take a beating for Mark, Joey, Liza, Travis, etc. I love 'em all. I decided to be a good sport about it.
Over the first couple days we acquired a couple dozen new "friends". I had to weed out "friend" requests from several opportunistic bands that wanted to somehow link up with us even though we have nothing in common. I figured they were hitting every new band with a page. HIT THE ROAD.
I looked carefully at the pages of our new friends. I actually know quite a few of them. A few others I'd enjoy meeting. Looking at their often extensive pages with all the pictures of their scores of friends and examples of sick, perverted photos included for a larf and "nice" pictures of happy moments I began to feel the same melancholy mood wash over me that I often feel at a party where I don't know anybody and want to find a corner to get drunk alone in.
I think this is day five. I sat down at one point and along with Marla composed lengthy answers to all the profile questions.
I realized that by revealing my personal business in such a public forum I ran the risk of providing information on my whereabouts to enemies I haven't seen from over the last few decades. Oh well. It's not like there's not a lot of other stuff about me on the net. I believe in remaining conscious of my enemies without giving in to paranoia and altering my swinging lifestyle.
The 1st draft of the cover art for our upcoming 2 CD release for Steel Cage records looks great on "my space".com. I think everybody reading this should go look at it. It's a great way to unveil it in preview fashion.
The pictures in the insert of bandmembers copulating with large zoo animals will have to wait for the official release date.
I pointed out to Marla today that virtually none of our new "friends" has emailed us or communicated with us in any way much less sent me booze in the mail or purchased Rancid Vat merchandise based on "my space". I guess I'll feel better about it when one of those things happens. It's really all just a circle jerk to me...yet STILL all these people I respect are having the time of their fucking lives.
Maybe I need to take up smoking weed again to understand it...AAHHHH. I asked Elvis what the fuck my problem is with "my space.com" and begged him to be blunt. It turns out he thinks it's sort of silly too. He suggests that the two of us don't feel comfortable with it because neither of us have very many close friends and we're not likely to banty about the word "friend" in a casual manner without feeling strange.
Of course it's largely our own faults if we don't have a lot of close friends in our lives. In my own case I can trace the gradual erosion of several friendships back to the advent of the internet. I used to spend several hours per night on the telephone keeping in touch with people. Now we communicate by email....less and less often it seems as the years go by. Shit..maybe I've learned something from this experience after all. Maybe we should scrap the internet and go back to writing long, inspired drunken letters and running up huge phone bills?
9/12/05
Ooops. I guess I was wrong about the new job after all. It's gone. I'm gone. The job search continues. I was right in the sense that it's "my fault" it didn't work out (in a calculated way..I didn't fuck up ) and I really did like the boss. It's a shame..but it's not to be.
Oh well.
I'm not here to go into detail about that at this time. Instead I'm inspired to relate to you all a great notion that popped into my head tonight while listing Ebay items (including some very rare items by R.V. and friends...BID NOW..I need the $$$).
Vince McMahon is ultimately responsible for the success or failure of his product. Why does it stink so bad nowdays? Because he's fallen victim to what I Thee Whiskey Rebel will hereafter refer to as "Al Davis syndrome". In spite of past glories and innovations..his personal obsessions have steered the WWE on a course that possibly will lead to the destruction of the promotion. I'm serious. Unless he wises up or hires some decent writers the WWE is fucking doomed. DOOMED.
That's not so bad in itself. If some other promotion was ready to step up to the plate and deliver great original wrestling we'd survive; unfortunately, too many promotions that could step up and compete and possibly beat the WWE's fanny's are so obsessed with being "anit-WWE" and so into using the familar wrestlers McMahon has let go as their main draws that they'll likely follow him down the stool...down the sewer pipe and into a cess pool of failure.
The WWE writers are obviously so incredibly ratings conscious (I can't blame them for that) that they won't buck Vince or stand up to him. This is what happened to the Oakland Raiders who I used to follow faithfully many years ago until Al Davis's personal obsessions and lack of clear thinking rendered them into nothing but a silly parody of past glories.
"Just win baby" my fat ass. The Raiders have been embarrasing to watch for years..losers quite frankly. They won't go anywhere until ol' Al turns things over to somebody with the power to take the team in a direction beyond his micro-management. The WWE will continue to try to succeed with self destructive and horrid "diva searches" and cheesey, uncreative match endings and assinine retread wrestler gimmicks until they either go under or Vince realizes he's lost touch and appoints somebody with a free hand to take over. He's lost his vision. He's become the Al Davis of wrestling.
"Just win baby" yer stinky ol' ladies cunt.
Tonight I watched as John Cena aped the Rock move for move and expression for expression and rehearsed quip for quip. I feel a bit sorry for the poor guy. He'd possibly do all right if he was allowed to be himself. He seems totally unoriginal and obsessed with acting out a tightly scripted part.
Mick Foley, the Rock, Steve Austin. 3 huge ratings successes. What did they have in common? They were original and unique. You could tune into "Raw" and expect something fresh or unexpected with them involved. These days without them it's just rehash. The old fan favorite being lead away by security guards bit because he defied the general manager of the show. The old double drop off the titantron into electrical wires bit. The old ambulance taking a wrestler away..followed by his return to the ring 7 minutes into a handicap tag match between the guys partner and 2 heels bit.
Jesus H. Fucking Christ. Was it losing Pat Patterson (a rumored genius for coming up with fresh endings to matches) the final straw that relegated this promotion into unwatchable for the most part bull shit??
Triple ZZZ has been away from Raw for several weeks. I hoped that things would improve with the bosses son in law awy..but that hasn't been the case.
To his credit Chris Jericho decided not to sign again and tour instead with his fine band. The Dudley's have held out for something better than what they've been creatively offerred before re-upping. These guys all probably recognize that even though Vince has had his share of great ideas over the years he's gone AL DAVIS on us.
The "diva search" debacle is Vince McMahon's Marcus Allen misjudgement...his Waterloo. Mark my bloody asshole sucking words.
UUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP......
I nominate for a writing committee to replace Vince: Paul Hyman, Matt Hardy, Mick Foley (ahh..he won't take the job) Dory Funk Jr. and Len Denton (the Grappler) from the old Owen's promotion I grew up on in the northwest. If possible Pat P. should be brought back too.
I now formally pronounce the John Cena lead version of Raw UNWATCHABLE..without pinning the blame on Cena who is likely only following orders.
I propose that quality tag team wrestling and "real" managers be brought back into the mix in spite of all the excuses I've read on insider wrestling websites. I further propose that the WWE become a truly innovative and international promotion by signing and pushing properly Japanese and Mexican wrestlers.
UUUUURRRRRRPPPPP...that's a start. DISMISSED.
9/09/05
One of the sad things about my life involves the foods that I "can't" eat any more. I see people pouring Texas Pete hot sauce on their eggs and I get jealous. I'd like to indulge too..but there's NO FUCKING WAY I wanna sweat that stuff off on the pot the next day. Anything with peppers you can just scratch off my list about 340 days out of the year. I don't eat hamburgers very often, fastfood french fries taste like cardboard to me and pizza is for special occasions. I love ice cream and chocolate but it's only on very infrequent special days that I indulge in any of it. Onions and garlic and curry seasoning are fine..but refried beans, potato chips and big hunks of red meat are things I dream about as opposed to consume regularly.
There's a positive side to my consumption blues though. I'm 48 fucking years old and still can drink whatever alcohol I want every day of the damned year even though I've drank most days since I was 15 years old touring Europe with the Beaverton High school goddamned band. A helluva lot of people my age have been in and out of rehab or have had to swear off of booze....I'm one of the lucky ones..a role model..a success story. For that matter, even though I don't partake of recreational drugs these days it's still a matter of choice for me. I consider that I'm pacing myself for when I'm "old" and want to expand my mind on my back porch.
Hot sauce and peppers vs. daily drinking???? It's an obvious choice to me. I bet a lot of people reading this have an old man in my age bracket or maybe a Mom who can slop hot sauce on their food all they want..but are past their days of drinking and drugging. I pity them.
I know I'm gonna sadden a few people by pointing out a basic truth here: your body will not in all likelyhood be able to handle all the punishment and brain cell annihilation and stress from longterm drinking and drug use, "extreme"eating and high octane anal seepage and keep plugging away without uncomfortable side effects. Your body has limitations. Rest it up once in a while and you'll possibly extend the longevity of it's ability to digest whatever the hell it is you like to consume.
I'm sure as hell not preaching or claiming that there aren't exceptions to the "rules" that I'm laying down here. Yeah, I can look in the mirror and SEE my beer gut. Not everybody who drinks developes one. Some wind up with huge, puffy red noses..and others look relatively unaffected. Not every long term pot smoker winds up visably, permanently spaced out like a charachter from an old Cheech and Chong movie. Quite a few do though. As Louis Jordan sang: "Beware, Brother beware".
9/8/05
This has been "hell week" for my new job countin' inventory. It's only "hell" because I've busted my ass to be early all the time and hustle my ass around even though I've been behind a desk for several years and I've fallen out of inventory shape. It's NOT a job for pinks or mollycoddles.
I don't plan to write about my job here. I will say that the man in charge of the office is my kind of boss. He's old school in terms of rewarding peoples efforts as opposed to bosses who don't even notice. If I don't excell it will likely be my fault.
My first official inventory was today and it was a big store and I held up well for 8 hours. I know their machine by perfect touch already. I'll just keep getting better and better. I have a little trouble getting up off the floor from counting bottom shelves since my wrist is only 90% recovered from last May's injury. That'll get easier with time.
What the fuck...I know their machine 10 key pad and accompanying keys by touch on my first day. Not bad.
This is a sweet deal of an inventory job.
I like the crew so far too. It's not a bunch of pussies..at least the regulars aren't.
I'm knocking back several cold Miller's and patting myself on the back for not having lost my great inventory skills.
UUUUURPPPPPPPPP.
Check back in a day or two and maybe I'll have something to bitch about for those of you who get bored reading about good things that happen to me.
9/5/05
There's always a good bellylaugh or two to be heard in the midst of a crisis. I heard this story while flipping through the channels. Of course you can bet your ass the news correspondant didn't intend for people to laugh.
After days of having to deal with loss of homes, possessions, pets, bloated corpses strewn about, lack of food and water, foul floodwaters, rape, mayhem, gun toting junkies, etc., etc, a lot of poor folks found themselves in the relativley safe confines of the Astrodome in Houston. There are so many evacuee's there that efforts are being made to air lift some of them to other States.
According to this certain reporter West Virgina, Colorado and Utah had agreed to house some of these homeless folk for a long term period.
"Unfortunately"...the talking head said with a puzzled look on her face.."many of the evacuee's refused when offered to accept haven in Utah"...
HAH!!! I'm still laughing. You can bet your ass those New Orleans people even though most of them have probably never left the State but are streetwise and savy enough not to wanna be cooped up with a bunch of lily white, Osmond type, family home evening loving Mormon's.
I'm not making this up...but I'd be surprised if you see that angle covered again openly on a cable news channel. It was a blooper for all practical purposes. If I heard that a bunch of these N.O. refugee's had gone willingly up there...well THEN I'd have to think some sort of evil racist conspiracy was afoot.
9/04/05
ANOTHER MUSIC REVIEW:
WESLEY WILLIS & the DRAGNEWS CD "greatest hits V. 3" (alternative tentacles)
I wish I had met the late great Wesley Willis or seen him play live. I know from all the stories I've heard Jello tell about him that he was a great guy and a joy to be around. I bet most of the people reading this know at least a little bit about him. For the uninitiated I'll some him up this way: he was an uninhibited and..yeah, eccentric man who just happened to be an incredibly prolific songwriter. He left behind at least 50 CD's before he passed away in his early 40's.
It was the originality of his songs that really grabs me and I assume most other W.W. fans. The mere titles of the songs included on this tiny representation of his career let you know it's not going to be yet another batch of boring relationship songs: "I whipped spiderman's ass", "suck a pitbull's dick", "my keyboard got damaged", "I'm the Daddy of rock and roll", "Tom Petty and the heartbreakers", "suck a polar bears dick" and "gingerbread knocked me out" to name a few.
I've heard other prolific "eccentrics" over the years and without naming names I'll guarantee you that one of Wesley's strengths was coming up with a unique and fresh sound for each song. I don't think he had to woodshop long and hard to do so..I think it came naturally to him. I think he heard the songs in an advanced state of developement in his head before they came to be in the studio. This supports the liner note statement included with this disc that he was the most original song writer of our time.
Just like Bill Griffith's comic creation "Zippy the pinhead" Wesley tended to be a bit obsessed with a personal set of places and things he saw around him that appear and reappear in his song catalog. He spent a lot of time observing fastfood restaurants and listening to classic rock radio for instance. His patterns only make his music more fun to listen to as far as I'm concerned. A lot of his songs that sound deceptively simple at first are actually loaded with attitude the more you listen to them.
I think I'm a pretty fair and balanced critic when it comes to "eccentric" musicians. Frankly, Wesley Willis was a lot more than that...and I don't feel entirely comfortable using that word in association with him. He was about as far removed as any of us from the local yocal HIPSTER IN-JOKE "village idiot" type performers I've seen on stages in places like Portland and Philly. A lot of those folks just put me to sleeep (especially the retarded guy from Philly who everybody got such a big kick out of who left me cold). I guarandamntee you that you won't sleep thru this batch of songs.
9/01/05
Elvis summed up a lot of folks feelings on the destruction of New Orleans as we know it. After citing the pleasures of the French quarter he blurted out angrily:
"WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN ATLANTA!!"
I agree. Or better yet Washington D.C.
I had a talk with the Austin manager of RGIS's biggest national competitor today. I liked the guy. Rather than look down his nose at me or eye me with suspicion he seemed to accept me for who I am. The inventory crew I'm going to begin training to join counts a big Texas grocery store chain 5 days a week 10 months out of the year (along with some pharmacy's here and there). It's the sort of regular work that most inventory knuckleheads from coast to coast would kill for.
No psychology tests...just an incentive pay program that favors guys like me...the Michael Jordan of the inventory biz.
It's no problem to request time off from this job to play music in remote cities or maybe in a chess tournament. I'll have to adjust to working at 6:00 a.m. or earlier Monday thru Friday...but that's no big deal. I did it for years. I'm a 24 hour person..always open. Most days I'll get off at noon or 1:00 p.m.
I have a lot of pleasant memories of counting grocery stores. I especially love the smell of a beer cooler in the early morning. Evidently these folks do several road trips per year to count cities way the hell out in the middle of the Texas desert. Sounds good to me.
It'll be good to take a break from writing since I already have 2 completed books making the query rounds to publishers and due to the fact that my legs are beginning to atrophy from having them under a computer desk for a few years.
Here's a few more "WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN's": 1) Knoxville 2) Portland 3) Camden 4) Salt Lake city 5) Newark
8/30/05
I'm pretty damned worried about the situation in the gulf region since the hurricane. I think a lot of people in the U.S. who live outside of the South shrugged their shoulders and switched the TV channel after it seemed like the storm veered away from the center of the city of New Orleans.
That sort of reaction was a little premature. The city of "death" (as I remember Eric Burdon referring to it in a respectful way in his autobiography ) is in an almost unbelievably fucked up state. The flood waters that are pouring in still from the lake north of the city are teeming with snakes, vermin and scum. It's gonna take a long damn time to clean that mess up. Since it's a very, very old city by American standards you've got to realize that one of our countries most unique and historic places is drowning in swamp water.
There are a lot of cities that increasingly look very much alike in this..the age of the California style strip mall. New Orleans is one of the cities that stands alone in terms of architecture, cuisine and "attytude" as they say in Philly. Many cities are governed by councils that see old buildings as eyesores..not so in New Orleans. Happy hour's have been banned in many places..you can drink around the clock like a berzerker in New Orleans.
The one thing I don't like about N.O. is the corp of world class scumbag grifters working the tourists all the time. I hope a lot of them go out looting and get diseases from splashing around in floodwater to steal electronic gear they can't even use.
We've played a couple times in New Orleans and I've gotten to meet some nice damn people. I hope they've found a place to ride out this nightmare.
The South is covered with refugees. I hope all you Californians think about what they're going through and plan for the big earthquake that's gonna one day send you fleeing to Utah or southern Oregon.
I'm really worried too about all our friends in Hattiesburg Mississippi. Until a few hours ago we assumed phone service was working and things were "mellow" there...HAH! There's widespread destruction, no power or telephones or water (for some time to come), looting, etc.
Some of the best times we Irwin's have ever had have been in Hattiesburg. I know at least 2 dozen people in our circle of friends who would agree with me. HOSPITALITY is spelled: HATTIESBURG. Obviously, we're very concerned about our pals from Before I Hang and their families. There's a lot of other people in that town who've made me feel damned welcome several times and bought books and shaken my hand and treated me damn well. I'm hoping for the best..and plan on reading the on-line Hattiesburg American newspaper (run by generators I assume) to keep posted.
Finally, I'm concerned about the safety of my blood Father (not the man who raised me..remember..I was adopted) who lives in the gulf coast tip of Alabama these days. The media seems to focus on New Orleans..but Alabama has been hit as hard as anywhere else in the region. I sit here and wonder in the middle of the night....is he ok??
Disasters like this tend to bring out the best and worst in people. The tackiest opportunistic bastard of all is surprisingly 1,000 miles away...none other than Robert Kennedy Jr. who has written a smarmy politically oriented diatribe blaming the hurricane on the Governor of Mississippi due to his stance on global warming. Seems a bit far-fetched doesn't it? I suppose we can look forward to Al Sharpton finding a racist angle to hurricane Katrina..and of course we'll all be treated to CNN coverage of him touring the battered areas in the near future....UUUUUUURPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.
8/29/05
The crew of incoming students this year to the local university is collectively a pretty pathetic bunch. There must be 15,000 or so of them at least and in a town with a permanent population of only 35,000 they are hard to miss. Since their driving skills are understandably pretty bad (hey..they're 18-19 years old) they stand out on the roads. They're the ones in shiny late model sports cars, s.u.v.'s and trucks Daddy just bought 'em making crazy ass U-turns and driving the wrong way down one way streets totally oblivious to traffic signs.
They stand out in the 3 local grocery stores too; they're the ones hunkered in small groups around shopping carts looking pretty confused saying brilliant things to one another like: "UUhhhhhh.......maybe we should get a loaf of bread". As a bit of a grocery shopping freak and voyeur I enjoy seeing what these rubes wind up buying to consume in the first days of their first time away from home. Female freshmen seem to know how to shop better than the guys. One poor slob I saw appeared to be loading up on ingrediants for some sort of crude patty-melt. He bought a 5 pound roll of ground beef (the cheap stuff you have to drain more grease away while cooking) and a long loaf of thin, skinny ass wheat bread designed for cold sandwiches...I GUARANTEE YA' the bread will instantly congeal around the burgers like a thin, mushy sponge. Good thing he bought plenty of beer to wash it down with..he'll need it.
Of course I wasn't any more of a decent cook or wise shopper when I was these peoples age. I would've been TOTALLY HELPLESS if my loving Mother had her way. Luckily I was a cook for a while at a pancake house. Since I was poor and had to work 30 hours per week to supplement what my old man gave me to cover the basics I ate a lot of macaroni and cheese and unglamorous poverty meals.
I've gradually learned a little bit about cooking over the years. Even though Marla and Elvis are picky and very hard to impress when I cook nowdays, I'm like fucking Emeril or the Iron Chef's compared to your average male college student who doesn't have restaurant experience. That gives me the right to gaze into their shopping carts and have a good chuckle.
As I wait in the longest grocery store lines of the year in our city I play a mental game in which I try to figure out which 4 out of 5 freshmen in my path will WASH OUT within the next few weeks. Which ones will wind up in Iraq due to their academic failures?? Which ones will be given cushy supervisory jobs by their Daddy's?
Tonight I had the misfortune of being at the store at a bad, bad time. When it was time to push my cart into one of the lines I realized that I had stumbled into one of those mass insanity situations in which NOBODY BUT ME IN THE BUILDING KNEW how to form an orderly line.
Pardon me..I guess I'm old school when it comes time to queue up with a group of humanoids. I'd much prefer to take a number or sometimes even ditch my cart..cut and run..rather than have to make eye contact with a bunch of strangers to determine who goes next.
I wound up pushing my cart around the store a second time needlessly to avoid having to deal with the situation. Finally I realized it was time to either leave or stand my ground in one of the vague lines by giving off mean looks with a perma-scowl on my mugg.
It was while waiting that I was REWARDED for my being persistent..I wound up spotting one of the most ultimate, disfuntional "families" I've ever seen in public. I thought it was a rare sighting last week when Marla and one of the cats and I spotted a real live road runner eating bugs off of our patio; that was nothing compared to this bunch of home grown plain folk.
The "Father of the kids present comported himself like one of the crackheads who used to try to return mudcaked cd's scratched up and without a jewel box to me at Tower records years ago. He had a double handful of mud caked to his back that crumbled slowly. I doubt if he had bathed in a few weeks. He was clad in hip hop wear and had a nice looking cell phone and expensive boots. The "Mom" was very, very pregnant...which is sad because she appeared unable to deal with the two fighting, brawling, kicking out of control 2 pre schoolers riding in the cart. The pair not only brawled and howled..they kept lurching around trying to grab stuff from other peoples carts and the checkstand displays. To enable the little angels to cavort in the cart the parents had the bright idea that they'd load the groceries they were buying into the bottom rack that fits underneath the cart that's designed to hold cases of beer and soda. They were too braindead to realize that the large gaps in the construction of said cart enabled their large supply of ramen, TV dinners, cheap packs of ugly looking meat and even a dozen pack of eggs to easily fall off onto the floor. YES.....they were leaving a trail of crushed ramen and various sundrie food items crushed in their wake without a second thought. I wondered who would be most likely from this clan to cook up the ramen that managed to make it's way back home with them. The cherry on top of this dullard human drama was a big gallon of milk that sat in the cart with the two rambunctious tots. It had been kicked in...and was without doubt on the verge of exploding it's contents.
I took all this in and then my thoughts turned to the guy with the spongey wheat bread and the 5 pound chub of burger. I had to admit that even on his worst day he would make a better parent or cook of the house or role model than these two. And me?? my domestic knowledge is as sage as the combined "queer eye" fab 5 compared to them all...UUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPP.
Yep..believe it or not it's your choice my friends. I can't bake a pie..but I can bake cornbread from a kit and I've prepared a couple turkeys from A-Z with minimal advice and curry chicken a zillion times, meat loafs, burgers, chops, fried chicken, rather good spaghetti and chili (non-Texas style) that once made my Wife scream it was so XXX hot. I know what to do with lots of fresh vegetables from broccoli to green beans and well beyond.
Even though I'm a daily drinker and social misfit I know how to handle children in grocery stores and feed and diaper babies and council older kids right up to college age.
Maybe I should teach some sort of freshman orientation class on cooking patty melts...and finally get around to writing that child rearing book I've been procrastinating on for too long....UUUUURPppp. Where's my pretty apron??? Good morning.
8/26/05
I spent 10 damn years in the inventory racket both full and part time between 1984-1994. During those years I earned a lot of money for my employer. I was certainly the "Michael Jordan" of the biz on the West coast chalking up more 10 key keystrokes per hour than anybody else..with one possible exception of the bandmate who got me hired.
I spent a year and a half in management and voluntarily resigned after succeeding in many ways in which other people in my position had failed (such as selling inventories to new retail customers). I hired and trained hundreds of auditors and led them into stores of all sizes where we earned our profit goal consistently.
When I strolled into the local office of my former employer RGIS this morning for an interview in a bid to get back into the inventory business part time I didn't expect to be treated like "Michael Jordan"even though my record in the industry was faxed ahead of time to the managers in the office.
I envisioned a discussion ensuing between me and the eager District manager to iron out details of my rehire ranging from dress and grooming code to wages to the responsibilty level for supervising inventories I could be convinced to assume.
If I had been in the D.M.'s shoes I would've been doing backflips over the prospects of rehiring a literal one-man-crew who once shook hands with the man who is the current ceo of this company..which is the worlds largest inventory service.
Regular readers will know right off of course THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. Rather than treat me like Jordan or Bird or even Spud fucking Webb I was shocked to be received like Rodney Dangerfield or perhaps Dwight Gooden or post-arrest Pee Wee Herman.
I didn't even receive the consideration of a private moment with any member of the management team. I was herded into a small conference room with a group of nosepickers and told we were having a "GROUP INTERVIEW".
After spending about 5 minutes filling out a basic application (all of it information I had faxed in earlier) I began to leaf through a pile of paperwork I was evidently being asked to deal with.
HHHmmmmm...gone was the old fashioned math test we used to gage potential auditors skills with. In it's place was an extremely nosey psychological profile exam that had 77 questions..the majority of the either 1) invasive of my privacy or 2) utterly assinine. Here are some sample questions for your amusement.
Using the old scale of 1 to 5, "when I think about myself I....."
"know how to convince others", "trust what people say", "use flattery to get ahead", "rarely talk about sex", "use swear words", "often feel uncomfortable around others", "would never cheat on my taxes", "seldom feel blue", "have sometimes had to tell a lie" and "appreciate people who wait on me".
HOW IN THE FUCK was I supposed to answer those questions? I was one of the most successful employees they had for many years ( paid at the very top of the wage scale) and loyal as a pit bull...but obviously none of that mattered. Instead they wanted to tinker with my brain.
I might add, this company is regularly desperate for help due to the screwy hours inventories are held and the fact that not many people are suited to working somewhere different every day.
And here I was..a GOD of inventory being insulted by this bullshit.
I didn't even attempt to answer the questions. Instead I sifted through the applicant packet and found a sheet with "pre-employment information". This turned out to be an entirely negative tirade that written by someone so OBSESSED WITH MICRO-MANAGEMENT of every facet of a new hires affairs that it's printed in very tiny lettering to fit all the in depth instructions.
To my chagrin, I realized I had already violated the "confidentiality" clause years ago when I wrote "Jobjumper". Oh well.
Under "accuracy" was a brash threat of termination for anyone caught "estimating"; that's sort of like WWE issuing a memo that anyone caught pre-arranging the ending of a match will be fired. The inventory business is often very legit..but there are certain types of audits where "estimation" preferably with the help of the customer is the only pragmatic way (for instance bins of nails in hardware stores or 15 foot high displays of fragile grocery items that the customer obviously doesn't want you to dismantle or large bricks of partially used cheese in a deli).
The huge headquarters building and immense wealth the family who owns RGIS enjoys was largely built in the first place by teams of auditors who knew how to please the customer while not putzing around weighing out a display of bulk peanuts or decorative marbles displayed in barrels or penny candy in opened boxes.
I was EXPECTED to use my head and estimate when appropriate not only when employed by RGIS, but every other company I ever worked for.
I guess I'm violating the inventory rackets version of pro-wrestling's "kayfabe"; gee sorry. It's not that big a deal. When I supervised an inventory if I encountered a nervous store manager who was terrified we were "estimating" I'd have a long talk with him and eventually do whatever it took to make him happy.
Anyway, "estimation" is something that benefits the inventory service..not hourly employees. It takes a lot of nerve to claim that they're so pure.
Under "drug free workplace" I learned that surprise drug and alcohol piss checks were now held over the head of auditors. HHMMMMMM. The folks most loaded back in the day were the managers..who were forced to work 80-110 hours per week often.
Under "flexability" I was advised of the current company policy which puts the onus upon the employee to suck it up and work on short notice all hours of the day and night. In the old days it was a two way street. We used to work with auditors scehduling them in advance since it was touted as the ideal "second job". Now it's evidently just FUCK YOU!!! GET BACK TO WORK and SCREW your other job or your classes.
The "Dress code" contained the most fine print and revealed a fussy, bitchy side to whomever crafted this sheet. Back in the day when we focused on whether somebody could DO THE JOB or not, we hired people from all walks of life. Young, old, in-between, long hairs, short hairs, Lesbians, a few transexuals here and there and lots of folks who didn't speak english. Nowdays things have been streamlined to eliminate "suspicious" types from consideration. Women are forbidden to sport body piercing jewelry. Men aren't allowed earrings of ANY type (I'm told even cops wear 'em now days!) and are expected to have hair cropped over the top of the collar. No mention is given of what forms of facial hair are VERBOTEN...but I suspect it's frowned upon heavily with the exception of sweaty, weasily banker mustaches.
A very gruff passage DEMANDS that shirts be tucked in properly at ALL times. The instructions on footwear are a bit oppressive...demanding that shoes be "clean" and "in good repair". The company has selected some sort of perfect shoe and is willing to SELL them to auditors docking their pay in the process. How thoughtful.
I'll highlight just one more negative policy that is a complete reversal from when I was hired 20 years ago: "no purchases should be made in the store during an inventory"!!!!!!
Oh great. Auditors receive very short breaks very infrequently. How in the hell are they supposed to get coffee or water or soda or food??? HHmmmm?? Since a lot of them are transported in company vehicles they don't have keys for, if they don't buy something from the store being counted they're fucking out of luck. LOOK FOR A DRINKING FOUNTAIN, SHITHEAD!!!!
I beckoned one of the managers over to my spot at the communal table and pointed out the "ponytail" passage in the MALE DRESS CODE section. I softly said "we may have a problem there.."
She replied "it's up to you".
I got up from the table. She began to reach for my application packet...I folded it into my belly and made for the door.
To be honest, I've undergone haircuts, shaves, beard trims, etc. lots of times to get jobs. If the lady had treated me like an experienced valued employee instead of like one of the homeless bastards who hang out with their signs begging at nearby I-35..well, I'd maybe be willing to do whatever it took to get hired.
Instead, I'll just have to check with some of the other inventory services...there are plenty of them...and they're usually just as desperate as RGIS. Somebody will recognize my talent. Likely it'll be a crank snortin', highball guzzling, son of a bitch with little appreciation for "psychological profiles" and instead a healthy interest in things like KEYSTROKES PER HOUR and experience in the biz. I'll be happy to work for a pot-smoking lesbian anyday of the week rather than some gung-ho square obsessed with my slacks being of the right "wash and wear" fabric (yeah..they even have instructions on that.
The job search will continue.
8/24/05
Racist jokes can be very fucking funny...but they rarely seem so to YOU (or me) if you're part of a group of people and you're the only member of the racial group being laughed at.
I have white friends who have shared with glee their tapes of Johnny Rebel's racist songs from the 60's with black friends. Some p.c. types (likely mostly white) might recoil in horror at the notion of that..but I think it's indicative of a healthy friendship. Go ahead and turn the tables for a minute; black humor that pokes fun of whites is also often funny. I've witnessed live some of the best black comedians from Dolemite to Wildman Steve rip into whitey and laughed my ass off..even though I was made the public butt of a couple jokes in a mixed audience.
This doesn't make me special or holy...it just means that I feel comfortable enough about my skin color and their skin color to relax and laugh when I feel like it.
I enjoy cracking a good jew joke when I'm around my Jewish friends.
Over the years I've met my share of blatant white haters of blacks, jews and other non-whites. Of course I've met some blacks who flat out hate whites..and some who have white friends but hate Asians or Mexicans.
I could go on and on listing all the different mathematical HATE possibilites race wise. If you can discuss the prejudices that you've picked up one way or another with people of other races openly I think you're more part of the solution than a perpetuation of age old blind race hate.
I know for damn sure that people of my white parents generation were much, much more prone to believe absolute nonsensical bullshit about blacks and Indians and Jews and other non-whites than my son and his generation. I think one way whites in particular of his generation has become more "tolerant" shall we say can be attributed to the fact that they grew up on cable television.
Yeah, cable TV. Why?? They're exposed to all the silliest manifestations of blind, blanket STUPID stereotypes run into the ground on "classic" shows of the past.
I think some of the dumbest representations of non-whites can be found in films in which obvious non-Indians play Indians..non-Asians play Asians..Mexicans are always either bandits or dumb peasants..and the few blacks allowed to appear in the cast at all shuck and jive about in a manner that is dated and dead in the fucking water in terms of being suggestive of the way things really are in 2005.
These Hollywood masterpieces shouldn't be censored; they should be run in their full "glory" for years to come. There are lessons to be learned by osmosis that can't be taught by finger wagging or sensitive OVERKILL.
I've recognized for many years how many records from the 1950's and 60's are in my collection recorded by black musicians that either DON'T HAVE PICTURES of the musicians (so as not to tip off white parents that their kids are listening to "nigger" music) or worse yet have photos that have been touched up to make blacks like Chubby Checker or Joe Houston possibly pass as Italians.
There is a positive side to the plethora of doctored music industry pictures from the "good old days". At least the black artists made some money off of such a dehumanizing practice...and the kids from proper white neighborhoods were able to bring "race" records into their homes under the noses of parents who were brought up on Steppinfetchit' and Amos and Andy.
I don't want to preach. There'll always be folks from every race hating anybody that doesn't look like themselves. Just like war and poverty and romantic love ballads on the radio..it's inevitable no matter how disgusting or not you may find it.
UUUURPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.
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