Whiskey Rebel's Diary Archive
5-4-06 to 8-1-2006
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since 05/28/01
8/01/06
Like a cartoon charachter, I wear a "Whiskey rebel" vest on stage so people know who I am. When I'm not on stage (which is most of the time) I wear a camo hunting vest. Or, should I say I wore it up until today when I decided it was time to replace it with something else. It's been getting ratty and ragged...certainly not befitting a Texas state university scholar. What would my history department colleagues think of me if their first impression of me was that of a fellow garbed in a tattered camo hunting vest?
Marla had a day off. I was elated to have a human being to talk to for an hour or so. We discussed where I might find another vest with pockets. I already have a black leather vest..but it's too hot for the Texas climate. I could buy a denim jacket and cut off the sleeves..HA! Cut the sleeves off of a coat that's going to cost $160 or so these days? Seems a poor choice to a guy whose shopped at thrift stores for many years. I hate paying full price for clothing, furniture or bric a brac..because I'm used to not doing so. We thought about an army surplus store in San Antonio, but didn't feel like driving that far today.
So, we drove on up to the world class and huge sporting goods retailer a few miles north of here: Cabela's. Travis from Hammerlock told me that when he was a kid one of the biggest days of the year in their home was when the Cabela's catalog arrived in the mail. They used to be based only out of Nebraska but have opened a store down here to take advantage of the zillion hunters who come to this part of Texas from all over to hunt.
The store plays host to lots of tour buses especially on the weekend. Why? It's not only a great mega store loaded with guns and fishing gear and other jolly redneck toys, they've stocked several large exhibit rooms with hunting trophies from Texas and around the world, an aquarium loaded with badass fish, a restaurant, a very large meeting room, a tank kids can fish in, etc.
If you're an outdoorsy type it's gotta seem fucking better than the biblical heaven with it's harps and hymns and lack of firearms.
It's a great place for the family: the Ted Nugent family, the Stonecold Steve Austin family, Hank Williams Jr's latest family, the Elmer Fudd's, etc.
Thats all well and good I thought..do they have vests?
We looked at several fishing vests, bright orange "safety" vests", copper colored heavy bear hunting vests, etc.
Finally I wound up leaving the store with...(drum roll.......................)
A NEW, better camo hunting vest with larger pockets that snap shut, a streamlined zipper and a large webbed sort of area that will help keep me cool on all those long walks around the campus.
My history department colleagues won't have their eyes assaulted by the sight of an obese, bearded and tattoo'd man in sweat pants, sleeveless T-shirt and a battered old hunting vest; NO..the vest will be nice and new..for a few weeks anyway..and the "Cabela's" label probably won't be worn off for at least a year or so.
A new, leaner, refurbished look for my return to the hallowed halls that LBJ himself walked many years ago. I also make this pledge: if I manage to pass my first German class..I'll get a tattoo of a Bobcat (the school mascot). You can't say I'm not buckling down and taking the completion of my degree requirements seriously.
7/31/06
It's a bit after midnight and the house is quiet. Time for me to figure out my activities for the evening. I'd hit the chessboard, but I played all weekend and plan to get some more books to study with my access to the huge Texas State library tomorrow. It's a good night to take a night off. I'm sitting here writing this instead.
I need to play Play station 2 baseball while I can. Elvis has moved into an apartment with his girlfriend and even though he kindly allowed me to keep the PS2 for an extra few days he'll be coming by for it before long.
That really sucks; I can deal with my son leaving the nest...but fuck! Whatll I do without a PS2 to relax with? Somebody out there..if you have a used one you don't want..or know where to steal one...let's make a deal.
I'm pretty good at amusing myself and enjoy being alone to an extent. I've spent years writing through the night drinking and occasionally yakking with the cats. I need an hour or so of video games each night to wind down from more serious bullshit. TV is not the fucking answer. It's a last resort...not something I want to glue my eyes to all night.
With Elvis elsewhere and Marla working long hours and often sleeping in shifts different from mine. I rarely see Mark or Germ. My other bandmates live in SanAntonio. I can't afford to drink in bars except during happy hours...which begin around here at about 3:00 pm..which is when I wake up! Dixie the cat is usually close by..but he sleeps 20 hours per day. Mr. Jinx and I are on nice cordial terms..but not super close. I can go days without talking to anybody. I think most people couldn't handle it for long..but I'm a borderline loner. I was forced to be one as an unpopular kid in junior high school.
I'll get by for now. My college classes start in a few weeks and I'm hoping to figure out where in this town the professors and campus janitors and experienced alcoholic intellectuals drink. They sure as hell aren't drinking in any of the bars I've been to in San Marcos...and you KNOW ivory tower types are drunks. Since the DUI laws are so tough they probably congregate in houses for socializing to escape the amateur drunk students. I need dialogue from people who have accomplished some things in this world who can drink until sunrise and out argue me once in a while. I need a few friends with assets like swimming pools and nice patio's within easy walking distance of bar refrigerators. It's a rare privilege that I'm able to know and hang out with so many people younger than myself due to us being around musicians for so many years. It's not enough though. I want to hang out with a few people somewhat closer to my age too.
I've gotten so starved for conversation that when I do finally get together with one of the few folks I know I talk their ears off like a fucking magpie.
I'd perhaps assume that I'm some sort of social leper if it weren't for the fact that in San Antonio and of course Austin (where I'm a solid booster of the chess club) at chess events I turn into a social butterfly. These people don't just play chess. If I lived in those places I'd know a lawyer and a couple mechanics and people from restaurants and book stores and people in other useful vocations..and of course people who play 5 minute chess in their homes several nights per week and analyse their games over beers until dawn. I have few contacts like that here. I'm hoping that meeting the eggheads at Texas state will change that. I give it a 50-50 chance.
If not, I'll just keep lecturing Dixie, calling long term friends in remote cities now and then and occasionally talking the ear off of one of my few human loved ones or pals. I still stand by these words: "only the boring get bored".
In a sit-com like turn of events it seems that the college parking permit I acquired qualifies me for parking at a remote commuter lot we can see from our backyard! FUCK! After cursing for a few minutes and being ready to throw in the towel I asked Marla to bring up a website she saw while helping me register that discussed shuttle bus service. Evidently there is a nice covered bus stop in this parking lot a decent marksman could peg from our backyard patio. The buses run every 7-10 minutes they claim and cost .25 cents for people with purple parking permits. They make several stops on the hilly campus including one a couple blocks from where my first class of the morning ("German") will be.
After 3:00 pm even those of us pukes who have remote parking passes can park in most normal lots close in. IF the buses run like they claim and IF there are no other surprises it'll work better than fighting for parking at a lot nearer the central campus.
I have a new backpack book bag..and I'm going to load my loyal pal Dixie and maybe a few cans of Coors into it and go on a dry run this week.
Maybe we'll swing by the malt shop on the way home.
UURRPPP>......
Did I mention that I got an email invitation inviting me to participate in the booming "Greek" scene? HA! Imagine if I tried to go through with it. I've gotten several mailings that are directed to my "parents" too. What a scream. Now I wish I had taken out dorm space. A film script out of that sort of situation would write itself.
7/28/06
I started drinking early tonight so I can hopefully passout extra early with a good night of sleep under my belt for the San Antonio city chess championship this weekend.
I put in a mighty effort my last time down there..but I was still weak from my deafness. I had to withdraw after a couple rounds. This time I've got some excess energy and stamina...thanks to my recent work at the mighty austin chess club (my club..MY club damnit).
It's the eye of the tiger and all that...I've got something to PROVE this time. I've got to stand up for my club and be strong.
I'm bringing along my "lucky" Dale Watson T-shirt...that I drew Susan Polgar whilst wearing. I also beat the master from Germany sporting it in Vegas. I don't believe in "luck"..much. May as well give it a shot though..uurrppp.
I'll be bedding down at a Motel 6..which should lead to some adventures away from the board. Those places can be mighty stark....and full of odd guests.
Too bad chump Hogan used the mighty "Eye of the tiger" for his theme. I hope it works for me. I'm bringing Tums in case it leads to heartburn.
I'm not a resident of Bexar county..so I can't win the city championship trophy...but I can ruin a few players weekends. That's what I'm all about Daddy.
7/27/06
Yesterday I knew I needed to pick up my student I.D. and parking permit for Texas State U.
I was a bit worried because Elvis went to the very office I needed to go to in the morning and got jacked around really bad by some red-tape bitches. He came home and related the story to me. It was ugly. There's nothing worse than having to deal with State payroll cunts who develope a dislike for you.
I drove around looking for a place to park on campus where I wouldn't risk getting a ticket or worse yet being fucking towed. To make a long story short, there IS No such place. In order to get a parking permit you need to violate their rules or walk a long fucking way. I chose to walk a long fucking way.
The cunts who gave Elvis a hard time took a liking to me I suppose. I'm not sure why, and I sure as hell don't get any satisfaction from that. I guess they're just the first of many who'll assume I'm just some old dumbass who'll wash out by mid-September.
People who cut me slack on campus seem to be doing so because I'm older than "normal" students and therefore must be as dumb as other braindead peckerwoods my age in their lives.
If I am a dumb peckerwood, it'll be for reasons other than those effecting the imbeciles in their lives who probably don't have the sense to pour piss out of a boot as my old man used to say.
Do I need to stroll about the campus with a pipe to look intelligent? or perhaps wear a sweater with suede elbow patches? Is it a fact that obese white guys with tattoo's, hair and goatees are really all that goddamned dumb?
I didn't enroll to complete my degree to battle stereotypes, but it looks like I'm either bound to do so or wash out.
I guess I shouldn't be too fucking surprised; an alarming number of people in san marcos I casually know (all in their 20's or early 30's) seem to assume I'm just some "nice old guy".
That's enough to make me want to take a swing at somebody..to be considered "nice"...a surrogate father figure. Should I be blaming Paul Sr. from "American choppers"?
Why is it that guys my age who look like me are assumed to be so damned docile and harmless?
Well, I am pretty harmless unless you fuck with me. Then I might wack you with my crutch (that's a joke..HA HA) or look you in the eye and tell you how worthless you and your entire family and your traditions and ways and silly moralistic beliefs are. I don't want to be forced to make enemies, but it might be neccessary. I bet I know more dirty tricks than most people still in their 20's. I may have to use them.
I try to behave like a peaceful guy when I'm in public. A gentleman. A role model. But, NEVER like some
"nice old guy".
I got my student ID card. I smiled in the phoniest way I could when they took my picture. I then picked up my parking permit without incident.
I'm excited in that I now have access to a library with millons of books. I've completely read out the san marcos public library. The librarians there treat me with respect, oddly. But, I've outgrown their little puddle of books in no time. I'm so fucking smart I NEED new books...new challenges..new stimuli. Texas state's Alkek library might just hold me for a while.
When I run out of books, I may be forced to consume the brain matter (feeble though it is) of innocent "party hardy" Greek geek type freshmen. Like a sonic mega-vacuum I'll suck their little skulls dry.
The sad fact is, even when I've consumed all of their gray matter no one will likely notice......
UUURRRPPPPPP. Can I try out for the college drinking team? what? there IS NO COLLEGE DRINKING TEAM?? Can I possibly be in Texas? It must be Utah.
7/27/06
We (Marla, Elvis and his lovely fiance) ventured into Austin last night to see Wayne Hancock at the Continental club. It was a good show. He had a large 6 piece band on-stage including a steel guitar player and a guy who switched back and forth between clarinet and tenor sax. The woodwind man was pretty good...but he didn't honk on the sax or bite on the reed and screech. I'm not sure if he was following Wayne's orders or if he thinks Big Jay McNeely style honking doesn't fit in with the style of music.He was definetly good simply sticking to basic horn blowing. The clarinet wailing really suited lots of Wayne's songs. They played almost 2 hours straight with no break. I can't wait for Hancock's new album ("Tulsa").
The songs I thought were new ones really were damned good.
I'm really starting to enjoy music again post-deafness. I really notice minute details in the mix when I listen to stuff at home these days. This is a really good time for you people in bands to send stuff in for review.
I'll be formally reviewing a cd very soon by "Sioux City Pete & the Beggars" that really impressed me. I almost fell out of my damned chair it was so creative whilst being rather diabolical.
I haven't left San Marcos much in a while and I've gotten used to bands that are good and fun and competent but haven't much in the way of creativity. They need to listen to Sioux city Pete for some inspiration if you ask me.
Oh yeah. Plug time. Rancid Vat will be opening a show for our good pal BLOWFLY and his mighty perverted band at Emo's in Austin on 9/2. It's evidently a post-show "party" or whatever the fuck they want to bill it as for a reunion of the Austin band Scratch Acid.
It'll be a unique show for us since thee Texas Stud has another prior commitment out of State and Elvis will be doing guest vocals filling in for him. Hey..we don't want to miss out on a big night like that playing with my hero and early 2008 Presidential fave candidate Mr. BLOWFLY. We'll do our bit and then I'll settle in front of the stage to hear some of my favorite tunes like hopefully "blowfly's convoy" "shitting off the dock of the bay" and "(I'm a) hole man".
We're going to the studio very soon to record a Sonics tune for the first of a couple splits with the Melvins. We had a date this week that was cancelled in fact...but we should be doing it very soon.
I'm back in better shape than I have been in a long time for music and lots of other things. My blood pressure checked out at a boringly normal 120/84 today. To be honest, YOU'RE the one that should probably be on the low sodium diet..and YOU and YOU and YOU. If I keel over from a heart attack tommorow it'll be simply bad luck. I feel physically better than I have in 20 years. I'm sure that's BAD news to my enemies. They can suck my asshole baby. Get it good and clean while you're down there, chump.
Mentally I'm at my peak in many, many years too. This is proven out by my chess results. I'm clearly better than ever. I've played a big long string of masters in 8 out of 11 of my last serious games over the board. I'm hoping to "make a statement" as they might say in the NBA at the San Antonio city championship this weekend coming up. I was physically weak when I tried to play down there last April and had to for the 1st and only time in my life withdraw from the tournament. I'm going down there to fucking FIGHT this time. When I got home from my last Sunday night of 2 X 45 minute games at the Austin chess club I sat down and STUDIED for 2 hours.
I have worked up a few opening surprises for the bastards too.
Oh yeah...did I mention (no I didn't not yet) that they added a page for me at the internets leading chess games forum "chessgames.com"? OK...it's simply a loss to a titled International master. That game and another showed up on an international chess data base last work too. No, I haven't hit "expert" ranking yet...but like I said..I'm hitting new heights from a mental standpoint..after being probably near death in February.
That calls for a shot...of GOOD OLD JIM BEAM. I save it for after my chess study when I'm just sitting here laying down the truth for the masses.
I've earned my shots lately after being dedicated to taking walks every couple nights up the goddamned mountain like hill the campus Texas State University (my soon to be future college of choice) is perched on. These hills are fucking TALL and reminiscent of West Virginia. I've got to get my "writers legs" strong...and used to them. So, I've been trudging slowly further and faster to prepare.
The U's most famous graduate LBJ and his pecker "Jumbo" would be proud of my discipline.....UURRPPP.
I'm seriously (almost) starting to wish I could live in a dorm.....
I'll be heading down to the right office to get my student I.D. this week. I've got to have it cause I know I'll be singled out ("profiled?") by the security force. I can't blame 'em...I'd check me too.
I told Elvis and his main squeeze not to worry; If I see them walking about the campus I'll pretend not to know them so as not to embarass them in front of any friends.
719/06
This might be my last comment on the Israeli "aggression". No one will argue with me via email evidently. That's ok. I don't really want to spend that much time on it.
Sometimes both in our individual lives and in the course of humanoid tribal / national events it's neccessary to fight. "Give peace a chance" doesn't cut it when you've got enemies worked up into a frenzy (usually of religious origin) to take you out or inflict their will on you. "Peace at any price" is a lame and dangerous road to walk. Smiling and trying to make a loving bond with the other tribe or nation or individual can work in some cases...but not all.
I can't blame nations who feel that the U.S...based on our knack for exploitation of smaller nations over the years..is a threat to their resources and way of life. I understand the fact that all the bible banging that emanates from these shores disturbs many in the world who practice some other equally wacky faith. I don't like Paris Hilton and Britney and the modern day brace of celebrity imbeciles much more than religious hardliners in the middle east.
We all have to act in our own self interest as individuals and nations.
Israel is a bone in the throat of muslims in the middle east. It's an ancient, religious oriented feud. Picture foaming at the mouth baptists wrangling snakes in a muddy river church service in the South; that's the state of mind of the hardcore suicide bombers recruited to take down Israel, the U.S. and any who oppose their take on their holy book and their prophet.
I've said it before and I'll say it again..christians and muslims are equally looney to ME...a devout hedonist, agnostic-atheist and friend of LaVey satanists. The major difference to me as an individual as to which side I choose was selected for me at birth. I was born into a "christian" nation. The religious folk here sometimes (though not always) want to convert me or convince me to get "saved" at the alter of some church. Some of them (luckily a minority) would love to take away my right to drink, make fun of their born again silliness and in general just be ME.
I've learned to get along easily with the less pushy christian faiths. Sometimes I have moments of reality (such as the pledge of allegiance pageant at ball games) in which I'm reminded of the fact that I'm a social leper as an American, but 360 days out of the year I get by just fine.
How would I get by in a nation where people are subject to SERIOUS laws banning alcohol and are expected to publically kneel and pray several times a day?
HAAA! You've got to be FUCKING KIDDING if you think I'm going to give my allegiance to non-drinking wacko's like that. If I had any sympathy left it might be for the poor bastards born into non-imbibing and therefore SOURPUSS nations.
Christians may not approve of me, but muslims HATE ME and want me dead.
I've heard and read many, many suggestions from progressive types alluding to our government using terrorists as boogeymen to focus our attention on their "phoney war". Well, you can't dispute these simple facts as apply to ME...an infidel boozehound atheist / Satanist.
The basis of all the turmoil is NOT political; there are religious antecedents to be considered dating back a thousand years before the founding of the U.S.A.
I urge progressives who want to look back to "underlying causes" of Islamic hatred towards Americans to look back further and realize that the middle east has been a snarling hot bed of war and tribal hatred dating back to ancient times.
As much as lots of you like to blame Bush or other Republicans or American policy dating back further for everything that goes wrong in the world, the fact is the region the "turmoil" is taking place in has been neck deep in holy wars and feuds predating the Romans (uhh.. are we to answer for their foreign policy too?).
I think that Americans who don't understand the antagonisms between all the various sects and strains of religions and tribes and nations who like want to lay it at our doorstep are fucking halfassed rubes, blindly loyal to the political faith they've been re-born into.
Ok. The Jews have been part of it since ancient times too.
Unlike other people of other faiths they are unique in that they don't seem to want to convert everybody over to their ways. I admire that.
I can get along with Jews quite easily...can't you? I personally love 'em.
Israel, just like all the other nations and tribes has to act in its best interests. Would you expect anything else? Being heavily outnumbered they've armed themselves and trained themselves and have become as mighty a WAR MACHINE as G. Gordon Liddy was as an individual when he submitted to his prison sentence years ago. If you're not familiar with his prison exploits, I suggest you dig up a copy of "Will". His willingness to fight saved his ass when he was heavily outnumbered. His superior knowledge allowed him to eventually acheive a decent relationship with many of his enemies.
If you wind up in prison white boy, I suggest you follow his methods.
Israel is merely doing so on a much larger basis as that of a nation.
Liddy didn't originate his strategy of how to survive in the jungle of course. I bring him into this to illustrate my point. He was only following tried and proven methods by not greeting his antagonists with high fives and smiles and John Lennon peacenick slogans.
If Israel showed signs of weakness, their reward wouldn't be peace. They'd be buttstacked by their enemies. By proving their toughness they'll eventually achieve "peace".
Like it or not, that's how things work. I have no quarrel with Dalton Trumbo..it's just that I've also read Liddy, Iceberg Slim, Ambrose Bierce and Thucydides.
7/15/06
OK. My last entry was perhaps juvenile "cheerleading".
But, I think it makes a lot of sense though that the middle east just slug it out. Why not? Sometimes war is neccessary. Sometimes you need to fight with your spouse. Sometimes you need to duke it out with a neighbor or co-worker. Just peel your shirts off and get at it.
A good scrap can precede a period of peace.
I'm a history buff. I know how these things work.
When it comes down to going fist city with somebody often in the end you'll wind up mysteriously seeing things in a different light..getting along. Don't believe me? Consider how many current U.S. allies were once our bitter enemies in wars.
There's been quite enough trash talking in that part of the world for a long time. Maybe it's best if some of these hardliners who want to wipe Israel off of the map test their strength against them.
The religious hogwash that underlies the quarrel is not going to magically go away. Best if they strap on the gloves and get it over with.
Yeah, everybody would prefer peace. That's just not an option in this case.
The history of mankind is chockablock with wars and fueds and simple tavern parking lot fisticuffs.
With organized religion rearing its ugly head there's no peaceful prospects in store for the middle east. LET 'EM FIGHT.
7/13/06
GO ISRAEL...YAY!
Here's a double shot to 'em. Gulp..Urrp.
Terrorists...er, pardon me.."militants" cough cough can't be negotiated with. They understand the ass whooping Israel is laying on them right now though.
If you're an American I honor your right to debate the correctness of our own military ventures in the middle east. As far as Israel goes, that's another matter. They've got to be tough because they're out numbered and surrounded by religious zealots (who don't drink) who want to annihilate them. They have no choice. Fight or be exterminated.
War is ugly, but sometimes neccessary. This is one of those times.
As the great pro wrestler Beauregard once put it: "do unto others before they do unto you".
Speak softly but carry a big stick..and a loaded Uzi to mow down kidnapper religious zealot terrorist scum.
7/11/06
FINALLY..ANOTHER CD REVIEW (I've fallen a bit behind on reviews..temporary deafness can indeed have an impact on a music reviewer unless they're the type who doesn't bother to listen. Send stuff in and it'll be reviewed if it's a fairly current release from the last couple years even ANY genre. Be prepared for rude remarks if you send something you should know I'll hate right off like Emo b.s. or rap metal).
BEFORE I HANG "Mississippi" CD.
Yeah, yeah...these guys are friends of mine. Wanna make something of it? It's easy to review your pals cd when it's really good...and this is. It's kick ass rock and roll with an in yer face attitude compliments of this veteran band from Hattiesburg Mississippi. When Katrina ripped New Orleans apart it kept blowing on up through what used to be their very peaceful and charming home town. Overnight, besides having to deal with all the destruction caused by the forces of nature, residents including these guys all had to deal with the tide of scum that came floating up from the flooded big city. Overnight the crime level skyrocketed to say the least. Looters, junkie thieves, etc. NO WONDER these guys seem so pissed off this release. "Blow-up the world" is a sensible rant: "leave no trace of the human race,,blow up EVERYTHING!". GREAT IDEAD! I agree!
"(Kiss) my Southern ass" is a jolly upraised finger to yankees and Cali-fornicators..."the highways they go both ways so you can leave as fast as you came" the band suggests. Are they serious? Well, mostly yeah..I'm sure they feel this way most of the time. It might be hard for those of you in so called proud "progressive" States to understand. They're angry..but in a funny way. Humor and anger are old running buddies. I wouldn't test their anger by stealing one of their TV's or amps. You'd probably wind up with yer yankee gullet full of lead. I think this music is BIH's modern version of the blues (without blues progressions ). They let out all that pent up emotion so they don't have to go on a rampage.
Delicate psuedo hippies will just write these guys off as brutes..redneck assholes. Actually, these guys are very hospitable and mirthful individuals if you're on their side of the fence...like all good rock and roll heels.
The music is driving and raw..the vocals manic. It's not metal, pop-punk or thrash. Just good old hard fucking rock. This is the best release I've heard from these Southern men..and I can't wait for more. You oughta know by now if you're gonna like it. BOTTOM LINE: if Antiseen drives you out of the Carolina's and Bootleg Bill fends you away from Florida..don't think the reception will be any different around Hattiesburg with BIH on the job..UURRPPP.
7/06/06
It turns out that one of the masters I played in Las Vegas at the National open chess tournament a few weeks ago was suspected of cheating at an even bigger tournament in Philly "the World open" with huge cash prizes.
We're not talking about beer money here...he won $8,000 at a tourney in upstate New York earlier in the year.
In Philly his results were too good to be believable. After whipping a world class Grandmaster the tournament directors were approached by some of his opponents and others concerning their suspicions. He fled the scene when asked to meet with the T.D. and was eventually found (I believe) in a bathroom 45 minutes later. He was searched but eventually allowed to continue playing in the event.
He was whipped in short order his last couple games being watched closely.
A way cheaters bilk their way to prize money is by using a hearing aid to receive a signal from a co-conspirator using a state of the art chess computer. A guy was caught last year in the same event receiving signals from a device planted in his long hair covered with a hat. All they need is a series of coded jolts of sound to direct their moves.
A simple way of outing these guys is by forcing them to explain their thinking behind certain brilliant moves. Since it's a computer doing the thinking they often opt to set out for the hills rather than discuss the game.
This charachter wore a very thick flannel shirt with the sleeves down and a heavy hat at all times during our game. I thought he was incredibly weird (you can read my comments in an earlier diary entry). Marla watched him for a while and thought he had shifty, guilty eyes. I'm surprised if he had to cheat to beat me. That was probably the case though. A guy at this discussion group that's hashing it all over says he turned up at last years National open wearing a HEARING AID! Suddenly, this year his hearing is good enough he doesn't need one. YEAH.
Anyway, if this sounds far fetched I can bolster it. Another guy in another section of the tournament playing in the final round with $25,000 on the line was CAUGHT red handed with a hearing aid that turned out to have some sort of hook up that convicted him on the spot of cheating.
This guy didn't cost me a prize...if he had I'd be REALLY pissed.
It's a strange coincidence that suddenly guys with hearing aids are suspect at chess events..considering how close I might've come to wearing one.
It's obviously a scam. HOW MANY people just happen to recover from having to wear a hearing aid a year ago and JUST HAPPEN to play chess at a level way the hell over their heads when they've been "ordinary" for most of their lives?
My instincts told me that this guy was weird as fuck..something was not right. And, ONCE AGAIN I'm proven to have XLNT instincts.
I'm PISSED OFF at other stuff too today.
I'm fucking IRKED at the never ending parade of new euphemisms used by p.c. creeps. Since when did terrorists become "militants"????
The phrase "freedom fighters" got a negative backlash evidently because now the sensitive phrase is "militant".
When we flew to Vegas the stewardesses (and uh..one steward) were introduced not as "flight attendants" which is reasonable but as "flight partners"??
YEEKKK. The word "partners" used to describe the individuals who are actually employees makes my head bobble. "Partners" MY ASS!!! Partners have some sort of say in running a business....employees are everyday jerkoffs with few rights. Sound familar?
I thought so.
Then there's the people who don't want to use the words "fat" or "obese" in reference to fat people (especially kids) "retarded" to describe the mentally challenged, etc. etc.
The capper for me was learning that when I study German at Texas State I won't be learning a "foreign" language...but a "modern" language.
What is so modern about a language that dates back many centuries??
What is suddenly the problem with using the phrase "illegal immigrants" to describe....well, illegal immigrants???
Why is it that when I walk through the jungle that is this world nobody seems to be worrying about my delicate sensitivities...yet I along with everybody am expected to cater to the sensitive whims of politically correct do-gooders?
Do stewardesses want or expect to be referred to as "flight partners"?? HELL NO. Do fat people know that they're fat? OF COURSE (I do!). Do corporate hourly wage jerkoff's feel like "partners? OF COURSE NOT.
I have A WORD to describe people you meet who are obsessed with correcting all of us for using familar, frank words: "JACKASS". If you prefer a phrase.." pretentious piece of shit" will do.
Of course these same fuck faces have a bevy of "positive" words that are being dished out too frequently for my tastes too. Since when did any clown who attended a few protests or vigils become an "activist"?? HHmmm??? I saw a caption used for a TV show summery on my cable guide that referred to Paul Newman and Robert Redford not as "actors"..but as actor/activist and actor/environmentalist. I forget which one was which.
It's getting too out of hand when this sort of feel good slop invades our very remote controls. Hey, you are aware of the fact that when I refer to myself on my business card as a "philosopher" It's tongue in cheek humor, right??
Just because some frigging actor or pop musician has political opinions, why does that qualify them as worthy of some sort of distinction?? Aren't we all as U.S. citizens supposed to vote and be concerned and have opinions? If Paul Newman or Boner from U2 get special designation for having opinions...why not your old man who is a Limbaugh supporter?? Or your Granny who hates people of several ethnic groups or any of the water cooler debate regulars where you work? Why JUST FUCKING ACTORS and MUSICIANS and trust fund kids like the "green" peace activist I read about over in the U.K....a PEACE activist..right?? Who knocked a rock star onto his ass and into a coma over the attentions of a female?
Yeah, we're supposed to refer to him as some sort of "activist" as opposed to the reality that he's just some jerkoff hypocrite born into money.
FUCK OFF...all of you.
07/02/06
Not a bad day all around. My "high" blood pressure has leveled off around 122 over 85 for the last few days in spite of the fact that I ate sodium laced stuff in Vegas (I didn't even really TRY not to..vacation is vacation). Strange isn't it...I bet quite a few readers of this have blood pressure stat's that are way over that (120 over 80 being "normal"). In April a typical daily reading for me was 160 or so over 120.
Yet, here I am...the suffering bastard eating only food I cook while most of you cram your faces with fast food.
I've been taking a frigging vitamin for HBP suckers once a day too. That's about all the lifestyle change I've undergone. The automatic weight loss from not eating sodium saturated chow has me walking gradually faster and longer every day. Soon my walk may resemble just a bit less Mick Foley's.
I've been drinking every day...not as much...but enough for me not to go out of my frigging head. There's little sodium in beer and whiskey. Of course as I've pointed out here before, what's the first damned thing most general practitioners will demand you cut out if you run into problems like I'm finally cured of??
And of course, they'll have you chomping down prescription medicine in a fucking HEARTBEAT. Once they've got you taking that shit, you'll be on it for YEARS...and the ol' doc will win points towards a bumper pool table or a trip to Bermuda from the pill company. I hope that when that day comes you consider my way of doing things: KEEP THE BASTARDS AT A DISTANCE. TRY TO CURE YOURSELF AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.
I did things tonight at the Austin chess club I couldn't have done without getting my hearing back and getting my general health in a better state..particularly my stamina.
Since I came out of retirement the one thing I've avoided that appeals to lots of players is "blitz" chess. It's much more important to get my "real" classic game back. Blitz as played competitively grants each player a scant 5 minutes of time for all their moves. There are 3 minute and even 1 minute (EEK!) afficionados playing on line 24/7....but frankly, since even grandmasters make huge mistakes playing that fast, amateurs are chasing their bungholes when they play that fast.
When I was young it was called "speed chess". I lived for it.
Since my comeback, I've steered as far away from it as possible.
At the National open I lost a game against a master I was doing very well in due to running out of time. I had to admit to myself that it was time to play some blitz and get that aspect of my game back.
As a member of the Internet chess club (ICC) I have access to blitz chess any time I want to wade in. Blitz is for berzerkers. Drunks seem attracted to it as well...even though you have to think and move very fast..and it usually doesn't help your game to be shitfaced; it's a natural fact that as long as you're having fun, you won't care.
For you non-chess players, imagine if you will a timer that grants you just 5 minutes to complete a game of monopoly or scrabble or candyland or whatever the hell is your pleasure. Speed crossword puzzles anyone? Speed bowling or golf?
Blitz chess is a mental version of that NBA pre-allstar game night shoot out where guys have to loft 3 pointers like mad for a prescribed amount of time.
Blitz chess and drinking have a common thread: SHOTGUNNING beers or taking liqour through a funnel or bong or whatever the fuck you call it.
I prefer getting slowly drunk most of the time..but I've engaged in my share of warm weather beer shotgun hijinx. 3 men can put away a case or 30 pack of 5% beer in a half hour easy..and the buzz is pretty good.
Taking the funnel route with liquor is a vigorous choice...pretty gung ho..but I doubt many people enjoy the results. To me, it's an amateur stunt for people who like to pretend that they're ballsy drinkers. In the long run, lots of people are driven AWAY from drinking by booze sucked through suction tubes.
Bad or "average" players love blitz chess but their games are usually so shitty and chockablock with errors it's not really great chess at all. OH WELL; games are about having fun, and if that's what somebody enjoys..more power to 'em.
I'm a 3 minute chess voyeur on a daily basis. I watch grandmasters and international masters and even mere masters and experts play on ICC for hours and hours. Thursday and Friday I forced myself to play 10 games per day of 5 minute blitz. I made about one huge mistake per game...but still won more than I lost.
Feeling that I had gotten the pace down more or less I entered a club 7 round 5 minute blitz event tonight (well, last night). The first round I walloped a girl who seemed to be 10 years old or so. I was way ahead in material very early but was incredibly nervous.
The adrenaline rush of blitz chess is incredible...it's like running a mental sprint race.
2nd round I beat a class "b" guy who is a pretty good player (I'm rated a notch over him in class "a"). I felt pumped afterwards..because he's a young guy who probably spends more time playing blitz than I do drinking beer.
3rd round. I played an expert (the next category over me) I had lost to in a slow rated tournament game. We followed the same 15 or so moves from our prior meeting to start the game...slamming the pieces out. I lost my nervousness and began to play well. I won a pawn and things looked good for awhile..but I eventually lost my focus and the game (he eventually tied for 1st).
4th round I started poorly against another expert but hung in there like my role model the cockroach and managed to turn the tables on his attack and win going away. I felt elated. I really CAN play this damned game I thought.
The next two rounds I lost to a couple more experts playing relatively poorly.
I was no longer enthused. I knew I had done a good job for the night though.
The last round I was paired with a master I had upset a couple years ago. I was told he had a long memory...and expected he'd be out for retribution.
He stomped me pretty well. I wound up with a 3-4 record. Considering the opposition I faced that was OK. Considering I expected going in I might lose every game due to the fact that every one of these people is a regular weekly if not daily blitz player I did alright.
Furthermore, I wasn't all that burnt out afterwards. I got home and ate some low sodium pork and rice and sugar snap peas and shrimp and then studied chess for a couple more hours.
Next, I sat down here and am drinking fast but not crazily.
You all know that Mark and Elvis can play decent chess.Remember Julio Justice from the COS supershow in Lawrence? He was the guy in the diaper playing bass for us. He's been in the Navy for a few years..defending YOUR ASS. He's also a chess player. He sent me the moves from a Yahoo game he played last week. He's coming along pretty well. He has a good sense of humbleness and the desire to learn which is neccessary to improve.
Who will be next to step up and admit that they play the game?
WHO will be the next to step up to the plate and shotgun a case or 30 pack of beer with me in San Marcos (Mark? Germ? Elvis? ).
Remember, always do it outdoors unless you don't mind slopping suds on the carpet.
6/30/06
I heard on the radio today(Neal Boortz's show) a discussion of the conspiracy theory nuts who contend that the 9/11 attacks were perpetrated by our own government.
This notion is so far fetched I seriously doubt this theory is actually believed by many who espouse it. It's simply a tool used by manipulative pathological Bush haters to try to garner support for their cause oriented groups.
Hey, I'm not a Republican or Democrat. I'm not wild about Bush for several reasons..but these clowns who are on a par with moon landing doubters and flat earth society wacko's make the Bush family seem like practical, sensible folk by comparison.
I'm scared to think of how many people I know who suck up ridiculous garbage like this. It's all on a par with the silliest of religions. .
Oddly enough, many of them despise organized religion...even though they've been sucked into FAITH ORIENTED POLITICS.
I like that phrase; it explains quite a bit using just 3 words, doesn't it? FAITH ORIENTED POLITICS.
If you're sinking like a hippo into a quicksand muck into FAITH ORIENTED POLITICS touted by either the left OR the right you're probably being duped by partisan mouth pieces.
This is about as close to the muck I care to wander. If you want detailed advice, research the common sense principle of Ocam's razor.
I feel embarassed knowing full well I'm friendly with lots of these yopes. Just like I don't want to know which people I'm pals with pick their noses and wipe the residue on chair arms, I don't want to know whose being brainwashed or for that matter whose doing the warshing. I have few enough friends as it is.
6/29/06
My college "orientation" session was a disastrous exoerience.
Marla assured me she had signed me up for it...but (as I predicted..and she scoffed at my prediction..saying my claim stood 1 chance in 100) my name wasn't on the list when I showed up. It meant for some humiliation standing at the registration table whilst some molly coddled volunteer sorority girls (I assume) looked at me like I was some nut who had walked in off the street. They shooed me over to an older lady who tried to blow me out the door to the administration building to work things out with them. The academic adviser I saw had put my account on "hold" pending my attending the orientation. Marla tried all day to reach the lady..she stated she'd open my account so I could register for classes from home; she stressed I needed to register by 5:00 pm.
I tried and tried to log on..eventually giving up at 4:59 to make a sad beer run. She wound up emailing me at 5:18 (go figure) with a load of bull suggesting I attend an orientation session in August..but stating she unfroze my account.
I leapt at the possibility of sneaking in and registering on-line.
Luckily, I got all the classes I first chose although a couple basic ones were already full by that point.
I wound up with 3 freshmen classes: German, Political science and basic "music appreciation" (which fulfills a fine arts requirement).
I also went with 2 advanced courses: history of country music (HEY..I wrote an unpublished book on that!?!) and an advanced level fiction writing course.
The advanced classes should be really interesting..the freshman courses will be too in a different way of course. As I've mentioned before, I'm very close to my degree..and I've completed almost everything "in between" the really advanced and the basic stuff.
What a hair pulling, ulcer inducing mess of a fucked up day. Might I add I went through all that hell with no sleep the night before?
I hope my German class works out better than my old buddy Mike McNally's Spanish class at politically correct Portland community college. He got stuck in a fucked situation where the professor doesn't actually teach you anything; as a means of simulating the hardship of Spanish speaking students trying to learn at an English speaking university the students weren't going to be taught jack shit. They were expected to just pick up Spanish by osmosis.
The 2nd class session (I'm amazed he lasted that long!) the p.c. prof singled him out for some sort of back and forth jabber that he didn't savy; he wound up declaring to her face in front of the class "I don't know what the hell you're saying!" and then something along the lines of: "you sound like a DOG BARKING!"
I'm told after the dog barking analogy you could hear a pin drop in that classroom. The prof turned red and was embarassed.
FUCK HER! She had already made a comment about how the class wasn't likely to suit "perfectionists"..implying that stuck up students who didn't like this approach were likely to get a poor grade.
It sounds like a fucking assinine way to teach a foreign language; but, then that's not the point is it? the point of an approach like that is to make some sort of political "statement".
"Statements" can KISS MY ASS!
Anybody who attends college to make a "statement" is full of either shit or too much time and money.
McNally strode off during the class break and cancelled out of the class pocketing a full refund while he could. He'll find a class elsewhere or teach himself if need be.
I doubt that I'll encounter such activism in my German class...knock on wood though.
Will I run into trouble for questioning Gram Parsons role in country music history...or be raked over the coals in my fiction writing class for writing about "sick" "negative" things? Probably one or the other if not both.
I'll try to tone things down when it comes to my input. I'm not going for my degree to make a "statement". It's possible I'll have a dramatic experience like Mike had, but maybe not. He's earned a 3.96 GPA over his first couple collegiate years as an adult. I'm proud of him. I can remember back in 1975 he had to go to summer school to make up a class or two to earn his high school diploma. As an adult he's kicking ass academically. He would have stunk up the place likely if he had gone straight to college.
He's done it by holding back and not assuming he knew more than the average student going in to each class even though he obviously has in many cases.
I'll have to try to emulate that; I'll do my best to avoid telling a professor they sound like a "dog barking" though unless they really deserve it.
Isn't it weird that two old drinking buddies, vinyl hounds and social lepers of sorts are seeking higher education at the same time 30 years later?
Again, I'm not doing it to make a "statement"..and I sure as hell can guarantee you Mike isn't either. We disagree about a lot of stuff..but being opinionated men with thick skins that doesn't bother us. We aren't some sort of fruitcake mutual admiration society. It just worked out this way.
Everybody I've commuicated with thinks it's a great idea me going back to school..even my Mother..who NEVER approves of anything I do.
I'm not sure why they're so fired up about it. My egghead oriented skills are dated...but I never thought any of them could fathom that.
I dunno...we'll see what happens.
I feel lucky just to have been able to ooze through the bureaucratic cracks and beat the system by registering for a load of classes. They start August 23rd or so.
6/26/06
The world cup?
It's an interesting subject. No, I don't give a rats ass about soccer. If you're into it...more power to you. Remember..I'm a goddamned chess player. Chess is huge in many of the same nations that hold "football" in such high esteem. The world cup is discussed daily on chess websites. That's fine.
What irks me is the often expressed point of view that we Americans are cretins for preferring our own sports to one most of the world is so into.
It's just more routine bashing of American culture. You can't "prove" that one sport is better than another. It's a matter of taste. People will tend to accept the religion of their parents, the foods of their local cultures and the sports that they grow up on.
There are quite a few Americans trying to make a big display about how "worldly" and "diverse" they are by leaping on to the world cup band wagon...but of course you knw GODDAMNED well they don't fool me.
The whole "respect diversity" charade is a silly fraud. What the advocates of that school of thinking most often mean is "respect MY diversity".
Why aren't American sports respected and recognized for being "diverse"?? HHMMM??? I may not want to watch Monday night football with your old man and his buddies (a topic of a column or two I've written) but I'll defend to my last breath their essential worthiness as fans of a U.S. sport.
Hey, DON'T BE BROW BEATEN into pretending you dig some game you really don't. That includes chess (which I've never tried to shove down anybody's throat).
I visited a couple discussion sites to see what people in the U.S. are saying about the world cup. It's clear that you can't win when it comes to soccer snobs. If you are an American and are into it..you're probably just a band wagon jumper trying to be chic. If you hate it you're nothing but a philistine.
I hate the U.N., I hate the idea of drinking urine (no matter how many people in the world are doing it) most reggae music and I hate soccer. On the other hand, I enjoy rugby and of course chess. I love American baseball and pro wrestling and am getting back into NBA baskeball and the NFL.
I am ashamed that I can't get into hockey..but the puck is just too fucking small for me to see on the tube. I don't apologize for hating soccer.
I'm so..SSOOOO fucking proud to be the Father of a son who excelled at a couple sports (Elvis was part of championship winning baseball and volleyball teams in the same year back in Philly when he was 16 or so). Give me one good reason why I should be ashamed of him for hating soccer?
Of course I've got to admit that somewhere some of my nephews and nieces who are scattered to the winds probably play soccer. That's fine...if that's what they want. Same goes for your kids if that's what they do.
I HOLD THE MORAL HIGH GROUND here. The people kvetching about ignorant Americans and their oddball sports should learn to practice some of the diversity they've been sucked into preaching.
If my blood Brother who has lived in Italy for several years should happen to drop in I'd sit and watch the world cup with him out of respect. I won't go to a bar...er, or should I say "brew pub" and feign interest in a game that I don't like though.
You go ahead and drink your urine and read your Kiran (koran? curan?) and take your kids to the diversity-fest for face painting and exposure to 3rd world music.
Just remember: to be truly open minded and enlightened and true to your spoken intentions you've got to learn to RESPECT MY DIVERSITY and that of all the "ignorant" rednecks and narrow minded fools so many of you soccer lovers are prone to put down these days.
6/22/06
(If you haven't read this diary site over the last day, scroll down and start with the earlier entry. I'm continuing a chronological..sort of..run down of our recent trip to Vegas).
Yeah, I devoted a lot of time to playing chess in Las Vegas last weekend, but I haven't lost my appreciation of other sorts of fun. I drank every night and gambled too in my own low stakes miserly manner.
Some readers may get tired of reading about my chess exploits here..but what the fuck. I can't help that. Is it any better or worse than reading about my health problems or low sodium diet or my bowel movements or moments of anxiety at the post office or musical activities or my opinions on pro wrestling or the new neighbors across the street?
It's not a bad thing at all to have several hobbies aside from your job or your kids or your significant others needs. When I was in my early 20's I went through a period of time in which I'd feel bored daily and hung out with people who were proud of their boredom. That was a long time ago. I'm rarely bored now. I have no problem at all sitting in a chair in the reception area at my ear specialists or in the waiting area at an airport or in front of my TV with the frigging thing turned to my favorite ultimate channel: OFF!!!
If I couldn't play chess worth a damn I guess I might pick up golf. I might anyway. On the other hand, if I met a gaggle of supreme conversationalists here in tiny San Marcos who could teach me things with their dialogue I might spend my time sitting in their parlors of gossip trying to hold up my end of things.
The people I'm friendly with here in San Marcos enjoy diversions like tubing and other forms of white trash fun I'm not into. I have to utilize my own solo pleasures and activities. Staring at the boob tube isn't enough. Watching people flirt in college bars is roughly equivalent to watching an "elimidate" marathon.
So, it's chess for me; it fits well with interests like drinking, pro wrestling and music. They all connect. (fact: Marla is into crossword puzzles).
I enjoy sitting in front of a video poker machine after a long day of chess with a bourbon and water and a beer in front of me. I've read a couple books on it and have a practice PS2 game that Marla and I both practiced with (it tells you if you fuck up and drop the wrong cards). It's the only video game I've ever seen her play.
I'm able to play according to formula whilst appreciating the odd pleasures of casino life. Have you ever taken a good look at the way "complimentary" cocktail waitresses in Vegas work the room? They rivet their eyes forward and hurtle across the floor with their little round tray hoisted high...every now and then barking "COCKTAILS!!" in a bored voice.
Most of them seem to be washed up dancers with enough in the boob, leg or ass department to pull off the job. It's sad that "stewardesses" are now referred to as "flight partners" or "flight attendants" and that lots of them are either homely and dumpy gals or limp wristed dudes. Don't get me wrong; portly gals and gay guys have their place. It's just that I was raised on sexy airheaded stews, metal bumpers on cars and cokes drank out of real glass bottles.
OK...I'm "old school" or a traditionalist or whatever buzzword you want to attach to that.
Vegas cocktail waitresses haven't changed much over the years since I first entered a casino in the late 70's (the MGM grand in Reno to be exact).
I'm glad. I'm also stuck on vintage or 70's style decor in casinos. I can't imagine a world in which DJ horseshit morons would replace "crooners" in tuxedos and combos of live musicians playing in the time honored Vegas way.
I like to soak it all up and get slowly shitfaced and then retire to a coffee shop to wolf down a steak and eggs special or maybe corned beef hash and eggs or a club sandwich. That's Vegas to me.
That's what I sought out and enjoyed every night there.
In the mornings it was back to chess. The 2nd day I played a couple more masters. In the morning round I was lost after being a bit too aggressive. My 4th round game I played a guy who made strange moves trying to induce me into aggressive play. He seemed like a very, very weird dude. I later learned he was from Jersey and had won an $8,000 prize at a tournament last April. I lost a hard fought game that I'm proud of anyway.
The 3rd and last day I played an old guy who was in a wheelchair. He's a veteran master though and an American chess institution of sorts. I remember reading his chess magazine tournament reports when I was a kid in the 60's. We hit it off well enough before the game. I bet that old withered up windbag Bobby Fischer (my old hero) slept on his sofa a few times in his boyhood. I had the nice old guy in a bad position on the board, but managed to fuck it up. It was the only hard loss I suffered. Victory had been within my grasp...UURRPPP.
My last game was with an incredible opponent. He was a rated "expert" just a half notch or so above me. We talked a long time before the game and I learned that he was 1) a native Russian 2) a guy who came back to the game after a long, long break just like me to attempt to top his youthful accomplishments and 3) President of none other than the Portland chess club..which I joined in 1967 as a pink faced, scrawny little nerd.
We had fun talking about mutual acquantances I knew as teenagers whom he knows as middleaged adults...but as the time of the games official start approached we went behind our competitive masks...which is proper.
A load of special prizes were awarded before the round started. I received my "upset" prize of a groovy comprehensive chess course valued at + $200. My new pal the German guy I beat to earn it lead the applause. I love him.
My semi-doppleganger from Russia and I played to a hard enough fought draw. An appropriate finish I guess. I talked to him about the idea of going back some time in the future to play in a tournament in Oregon for old times sake. It would be weird..but fun in an odd way.
It turns out the guy has a Brother who lives about a mile from where I grew up in Beaverton living in a housing developement built on old strawberry fields I used to ride a bike to in the summer to pick at.
I didn't have many chess enemies as a young lad; one guy pissed me off regularly though. He attended Lincoln high school in Portland..and I'm pretty sure my old pal Mike McNally knew who he was. We had several enemies from that school of rich Momma's boys. He died a couple years ago of a heart attack. My new buddy played and beat him 2 days before he went. I can't say I held any grudge against the guy as much as I'd like to come across as a hateful s.o.b. I was pretty fucking obnoxius myself back then.
Oh yeah. A guy approached me at one point asking: "did you used to live in Portland"? I had already recognized him..but hadn't wanted to bug him. He's a respected chess author and historian and was the coach of the 2006 U.S. chess olympiad team. He whipped my ass in a game in 1981. I used an opening against him that day he wrote the definitive book on in the 90's. A nice concidence, eh? I've pointed out the irony to Mark and Elvis before. I was pleasantly surprised the guy remembered our GAME...move for move through the opening. Only a chess player would have a memory like that. I've got to credit myself of course for remembering him and our game. It's easy though since he's famous in chess circles.
I've got to point out that my chess tattoo...a black knight done by Furry Couch based on a business card logo from the old Richard Boone TV show "have gun will travel" was a smash hit this tourney. It's time for me to get a couple portraits from Mark of my favorite players.
After it was all over I rode with Marla down the street a few blocks to the SAHARA where we were to spend a couple few more days with me finally relaxing and her not having to listen to my constant chess chatter.
Our room had ancient Presley era decor. The lamps especially were cool..one being an iron camel squatted down taking a rest. We ate at a massive buffet, gambled into the night nearby a live music stage featuring several decent Vegas style acts and even ventured to the large pool. I was so primed from my disciplined chess training that I made damned few video poker errors even with a lot of booze in me. I had a great fucking time.
Mark can tell you what a nightmare it was last year trying to find the elusive Las Vegas car rental return row. The signs SUCK like a .50 cent Kensington Pa. blow job Queen. We made a dry run the afternoon before and Marla blew right past the exit. It took a half hour to get turned around. DAMN. We could afford to laugh about it though. The next morning we knew what the fuck we were doing though.
I'm back...and my pulse checked out 5 ticks slower than it's measured in my adult life. I'm back on my low sodium diet. I'm ready as I'm gonna get for my "student orientation" day coming up next week at Texas State. It's gonna be me, a few hundred 18-19 year olds with their parents and maybe a few other returning old farts like me.
BBRRAAAPppppppppppPPPPPP.
6/21/06
We just got in a few hours ago from Vegas. I'm not in the mood to tackle the email that needs to be answered or to ship Ebay items. It'll have to wait until tomorrow. Fuck it. I'm gonna get up off this chair and fetch the Beam bottle and a shot glass and a few beers and hunker down and try to nail some of the happenings of the past week while it's all still fresh in my noggin.
The trip got off to a crazy start with one of those Lloonnnggggg travel days that never seem to end. We left our home at about 3:30 a.m. or so to catch a very fucking early flight from the Austin airport. I didn't eat for about 20 hours before leaving with the exception of fruit and juice. Why? Airline shitters have gone from being small for a big guy like me to the point where they're small for almost anybody. I can squeeze into them and urinate...but if I had to take a shit...HAH! I understand that there are likely some planes that have decent facilities..but I never wind up on them.
We flew on an airline I was unfamiliar with..FRONTIER airlines. The first leg of the trip hauled us up to Denver which is their "hub" airport in which passengers from all corners of the country trot off of one plane and down 30 or 40 gates (in my case it's always that far) to catch another one headed to their ultimate destination.
We actually needed to get to Sacramento of all fucking places. We planned to visit Marla's 93 year old Grannie in Modesto and then drive the car to Las Vegas.
The flight to Denver had me feeling jolly. Running against modern trends, Frontier's managed to actually lay out seats so that a fatass like me even can be comfortable. The plane was half full...I removed my left shoe..just BECAUSE I COULD REACH IT for once.
Of course, anybody who has read my book "hostile city or bust" knows that there's a clearly delineated physical law ("Irwin's law" to be precise) that guarantees that if I have a great 1st leg of a flight the 2nd will be a scene right out of a train ride to Treblinka or Auchwitz. I learned about the inevitable "catch" to the roomier seating pattern when some broad in the seat in front of me reclined herself into my lap almost causing the fold down tray to slice my spleen in half.
I bitched and pissed and moaned to Marla of course.
Then, I thought..hey..why don't I recline my own seat? I looked in vain for a button to acheive that. Marla pointed at a little back of seat sticker that explained that in row 9 (our row..of COURSE) of that model jet the seats don't recline back.
I SWEAR I'm not making this up.
The Sacramento airport looks like it hasn't been modeled since LBJ was in the white house. I APPROVE. I hate the look of Euro-copycat U.S. airports and am always confused by the international symbols on signs that are posted to guide you.
Marla took the wheel for the 90 mile drive to Modesto. I was WIPED. I hadn't been able to sleep on either plane worth a damn. I needed a nap and some food and beers.
We found an old school "Chinese" restaurant the likes of which no longer exits anywhere we've lived in a long time. It had the sort of combination plates from yester-year featuring "Americanized"dishes like pork chow mein and deep fried shrimp. I'm of course a huge fan of szechuan and Thai and Vietnamese food. This place was a blast from the fucking past. They even had those groovy old "year of the rat" paper place mats.
By the time I was done eating I was so looney from lack of sleep that when it was time to pay the bill I approached a guy standing at a counter with a $20 bill and the ticket; the guy chuckled at me. Upon closer inspection he appeared to be a gang type possibly watching the back of a hoodlum drug dealer looking guy seated at a nearby table. OOppps!
The Days Inn had double blinds that made the room dark as Mothers womb must've been. Marla went out to visit Grannie (having slept several hours the night before) while I flopped into bed after inhaling a couple cold ones.
That night I excited to be out of my cage. I urged Marla to settle in with me with a few beers poolside even though only a couple "nuts" had the balls to swim due to the night being cold for June.
A crazy chain of events ensued. I wound up guzzling beer and yakking with a guy named Jessie Ray (well, it's probably not his REAL name) who was a veteran carney with a show set up down the road. I admire those folks..although having been a traveling door to door encyclopedia salesman myself in my youth there's no way I could actually TRUST them. I think Marla was worried I was going to get recruited to work a ring toss or dart throw game; she sort of whisked me away at one point back to the room. That's probably for the best.
A couple mornings after we left town in our red Ford Taurus with piss poor "instructions" so that we could turn the vehicle in down in Fresno for another since our license plates had been ripped off. Hell, it was on the way. If we had gotten decent directions it would've been a simple errand.
NNOOOO WAY! I'm the original suffering bastard. We didn't get our replacement vehicle until I wound up standing in a remote parking lot at the Fresno airport like a modern day King Lear cursing the elements and the gods and my Wifes knack for accepting shitty directions out of some misguided sense of courtesy. It took us 2 fucking hours to swap vehicles. We got a fun Motherfucking car to drive on into Vegas though...a white brand new edition Dodge Charger with black top and interior.
Having ridden and gotten drunk and high in the real McCoy back in the day I know damned well these new Charger's aren't authentic or even really stylishly "retro". They sure beat the glut of ugly, boxy dork-mobiles Detroit is cranking out these days.
We tooled through Bakersfield and the desert and on into Vegas arriving at Terribles about 6:00 p.m.
We drank, we ate at the infamous Terribles coffee shop and we played video poker. A good night..but I was getting in the habit of flopping in the sack early by 1:00 a.m. or so due to the upcoming 3 day National open chess tournament.
This year, rather than play for prize money against jokers my own level I opted to play in the "open" section which is the "real" tournament that all the Grandmasters, International masters, ordinary masters and other superstrong players butt heads in.
Up and coming young players are often advised to enter a powerful tournament section like this so that they can learn whilst being demolished by masters. 6 games are played...2 per day for 3 days. What you hope for is that one of the masters you are paired with will take you lightly and perhaps allow you to upset them. It's not the "easy" way in which most of the 900 players in this event square off against people at their own level for prizes of several thousand dollars. It's the path to improvement IF you can learn from your defeats.
I wound up playing a guy from Germany..a strong master in the 1st round. Not a professional, but a damned good and serious player. He made some fast moves right off in my opinion underestimating me. I played a good solid game and took advantage of his weaknesses and won a piece and the game soon thereafter.
It was a huge upset. In the end I wound up winning one of 5 "upset" prizes which turned out to be a stack of chess books valued at over $200. For 3 days I had players approaching me congratulating me on the win since the moves were printed in a daily tournament booklet. The German fellow lost gracefully and I sort of befriended him in my lovable way. He reminded me of some of my German friends from music circles.
A shocking thing happened though. At the very moment of victory I saw one of the tournament directors beckoning me to the side of the room. I happened to pat my pocket..and noticed...OH SHIT! My wallet was gone. I looked under the table (quietly of course..you don't make noise at a chess tournament) and felt my guts churning realizing it was GONE.
Luckily I quickly surmised that the tournament director guy might be summoning me about the missing wallet. It turns out that one of the players found it in the bathroom and didn't want a reward or any credit or kisses. They returned it intact with nothing missing.
I was so damned happy I hugged the T.D. a couple times. I whispered into his ear..."now I know why I'm a chess player". He grinned and nervously perhaps backed away from my bear like grip.
There was a big national 9-ball tournament going on down the hall. Do you think one of those folks would return a wallet still full??
It was strange that the very moment of one of my greatest chess victories I'd be facing potentially one of the worst days of my life dealing with a lost wallet.
My victory in the first round ensured I'd be fed to the wolves. Well, BRING 'EM ON. I wasn't disappointed.
Round 2 I was paired with a full fledged professional who is on the verge of receiving the Grandmaster title. In basketball terms he's like an NBA guard who scores 15 -18 points per game with a handful of assists while exhibiting good defensive skills. The game was one of 20 played in a cordoned off area to keep the spectators at bay. The moves were broadcast live with an accompanying graphic display by a worldwide internet chess website..sure as fucking hell the 1st time that's been the case with one of my games.
Really though...it wasn't "MY" game. I was just a weak class "A" player who slipped through the cracks and was an easy early round pairing for a strong pro.
It felt good sitting in that nice padded chair in close proximity with all those legendary players. It made me a bit nervous at first too. I settled down quickly though and just played the game. Chess is quite a bit like music or pro wrestling. If you have a chance to doing something "visable" as opposed to your usual mediocre level you're best off to not read too much into it.
In wrestling terms my facing that titled player on that day was akin to an indy worker being fed to a WWE guy in a squash match. I was there to LEARN...and try to hold up my end. NOT to read too much into it.
IM Renier Gonzalez was a nice guy. I gave it my all and after I lost he pointed out where I had gone wrong. He complimented me on my chess knight tattoo too.
My next game I was back sitting at the ordinary tables on a simple folding chair. My opponent was a "mere" master..he took advantage of a bit of premature aggression on my part on the board and whipped me good.
I want to point out that playing against all these masters had me in a good mood. Usually at this tournament between games I'm nervous and studying books and unable to let my hair down to have fun with my wife. The fact is, when a guy my level is playing masters round after round there's nothing I'm gonna magically pick up in some last minute cramming session that's gonna net me a point. You either have it or you don't.
UURRPPPPPPP.....I'll continue this tomorrow.....
6/12/06
I saw the ECW PPV yesterday and I had a great time watching it.
I'm hoping like a lot of people that Vince will steer as clear as possible from Paul Heyman's brilliant work as mastermind. There was more WWE influence in the PPV than I would have preferred, but I think the reality is that Vince lacks confidence in the ECW way of doing things. If they keep drawing crowds hopefully he'll back off and let it run itself to a large extent.
The best reason to be happy about the comeback of ECW is the fact that a lot of wrestlers are going to get to work. If you dig the workers like I do, you'll try to see it in that light.
Unfortunately, from the fan comments I read on the fine Wrestling observor site (which I still read daily) it seems to me that a lot of ECW purists are over analyzing every fucking little detail. Some of the silliest complaints centered on whether or not an aspect of a match was "ECW" style enough.
I think a lot of these people have a shallow idea of what really took place at ECW house shows. For instance, a few people bitched about Big Show appearing at the end of a match and clearing the ring of 5 wrestlers. They pointed out how un-ECW like that was.
BULL SHIT. I guess they don't remember "911" doing virtually the same thing for years.
Others actually rated the "hardcore" tagteam match with stars as if it was supposed to be some sort of technical bout! In the heyday of ECW tagteam matches more often than not were fought all over the building and sometimes even outside of it. I remember watching teams like Public Enemy and the Gangstas and Mick Foley + Mikey Whipwreck spending 5-10 minutes brawling in corners of the arena only to eventually make their way back to the ring for a conclusion. This style wasn't invented by ECW, but it was practiced well there. I remember being in the audience craning by neck trying to see where the competitors were in the hall. You don't rate this sort of action with "stars" unless you're a pretentious pinprick. The wrestlers were simply working the audience which sends everybody home feeling like they're part of the show.
SHOVE YOUR FUCKING STARS!!..or, at the very least save them for "rating" technical wrestling by guys like Benoit.
I couldn't believe how many people commented on how beat up Sabu looked. I thought he looked fresh and invigorated. Hey kiddies...15 years of nihilism leaves scars. If you're comparing his look to some video tape from a long time ago, what the fuck do you expect?
Everybody seemed pissed off about JBL's rant. Hey..in the future just look at it as a plug for WWE when one of their guys takes hold of a microphone during an ECW PPV. I expect to see cross promotion between the brands. What's so terrible about that?
I was most shocked by the reaction to Sandman; I couldn't believe how many people bitched about him not being the same without his Metallica theme music. Hey, I've never liked that band anyway..not for 30 seconds. I would've preferred his usual theme...but I didn't see that as being such a big deal. I was more shocked that he wasn't smoking all the way to the ring.
At any rate, I'm glad to see guys like him gainfully employed.
What the hell was he gonna do..wrestle technical style somewhere? Hell no. He's SANDMAN. What you see is what you get..and I'm a big fan of his. If you rate a Sandman match with stars, you're like a rube sipping beer through a straw! Or a little dickwad sissy rating a good assbanging, dick sucking porn film like it's supposed to be egghead drama (which of course I also appreciate in doses).
FUCK OFF....you "star" fixation pissants...or I'll start rating my bowel movements with 'em.
6/9/06
We''ll I've been told a horrible stench is in our driveway for a few days. Marla and Elvis both complained heavily about it, and Mark noticed it first thing when he was over the other night.
My theory was it was residue from the shithouse that was stationed on the edge of our yard a while ago. Mark and Elvis guessed it was from nearby roadkill we couldn't see...likely a deer.
My sense of smell still comes and goes a bit since my sinus infection. I still use Jew salt to flush my sinuses out and Nasonex nightly. The fact is, I haven't been able to smell it.
Tonight Marla figured out what the problem was; there's a dead cat under Elvis's Caddy in the driveway. She recognizes it as one of two orange cats that peer in our windows and drive our cats nuts.
She's gonna call the dead animal pickup people tomorrow morning and it'll be gone. Meanwhile, I just found myself wandering outside our front door..giving a few tentative sniffs. Isn't life funny? Shouldn't I be GLAD I can't smell the damned thing? I don't think I'm much different from anybody else. It seems like if there's a bad stench to be explored our species will seek it out. I bet if you....yeah, YOU walked out our front door with me and I had just told you about the stinking kitty corpse you'd steal a whiff of it if you could.
It's like turd and fart smells within family groups. If a member of the average American clan encounters a harsh, foul poop smell upon entering the bathroom that individual will usually recoil, stagger back into the communal family chambers and say something like :"WHOOO EEEEEE!! What'd you kill in there Jim Bob?" This usually leads to half the family members within earshot slowly approaching the scene of the crime like trained drug dogs sniffing like mad. "OOOOH...YOU'RE RIGHT!. GODDAMNNNNNN..."
The responsible lady of the house will strut with a sour look on her face into the bathroom and squirt a few blasts of air freshener...but only after taking a few guarded whiffs herself to confirm the deed that has been done. "THAT'S GROSS!!" she'll say glaring at the family with a cross look on her face.
The closely guarded truth is that women's feces stink as bad as mens even if they act as though scented lilac's tumble out of their bungholes.
In most American families they get away with this. Most males never do come around to 1) being able to picture their parents having sex and 2) believing that their Mothers shit stinks. I guess it's part of that special maternal bond.
Anyway, give it a try in a room full of people: out of the blue say "WHO IN THE HELL RIPPED THAT ONE?" while fanning the air with your hand..and then take note of how many folks noses start wagging.
Dogs and cats love foul smells and make no secret of it. They're superior to us in that way. We've all been inhibited by the course of Western civilization into denying our latent curiosity of odors we know aren't very pleasant.
We also have mostly as a species been conditioned to believe that our OWN flatulence and shit doesn't smell as bad as others. This is a FACT beyond dispute. Who amongst us can claim to react less harshly about somebody else's daily deposit as their own brand? I hold that we mostly ignore our own. We sit there on the throne reading books never even noticing our own business...but a slight whiff of the next guys payload will drive us into a frenzy. Am I RIGHT? OF COURSE I AM...once again. DISMISSED.
6/6/06
And so, the day 6/6/06 has passed seemingly without cataclysmic repercussions.
I suppose it would've been fun to go to a bar to celebrate and I'm willing to bet quite a few people I know did just that..but I'm unclear as to exactly what we're celebrating.
If you want to look at the date from a Beavis and Butthead playful standpoint..OK. More power to you. Play a few Black Sabbath and Venom cd's...get shitfaced and clink cans together and do the little devil horn (?!) finger wag.
I'm not sure how my serious satanist buddies spent the day. I share their amusement at the silly terrified christians over-reaction...such as the pregnant women who evidently induced labor in advance so their child wouldn't be born on this day.
As an agnostic I have to wonder here..what exactly happened today? ANYTHING out of the ordinary? If it did, I sure didn't see any sign of it. I've read the bible and focused on the book of Revelations..I think I know what to look for if this is supposed to be some sort of big day for the dark side.
Unfortunately, a strict belief in the biblical version of the dark side seems to recognize the claims of the holy Joe's who accept the bible literally.
That doesn't mean folks shouldn't toy with the dark side when it suits them. SHIT, most of the same amateur occult types toy with christianity on Easter to please their Mom's. They celebrate St. Patricks day even if they aren't Irish and cinco de mayo, mardi gras, etc. etc. etc. It's no different for casual revelers to observe "6-6-06". Hey, any excuse for a party, right? That's not a bad thing...hedonism = common sense to my way of thinking.
I'm fucking busy as hell trying to prepare for our annual vacation. WHY OH WHY does it take Marla about 1 hour to pack for 8 days and me about 10 days? She uses carry on bags and I have to pack this big fucking rolling behemoth loaded with everything from skivvies, T-shirts and sweat pants and boots and chess books and books to read and a shaving kit and bandaids and a set of decent vines to eat and booze it up in better establishments.
Of course, it's true that 1) Marla is very practical and 2) she never wears dresses which makes packing much simpler. She requires one thin crossword puzzle on a sheet of newsprint for amusement.
Back in my (well, our) encyclopedia sales days I traveled and roomed with several women in our sales crews who packed around huge wardrobes and required about 3 hours to prepare for the day. I'm glad Marla isn't at that extreme..but she makes me look silly with her neat one carry-on bag versus my pile of luggage.
I'll have to check my big bag in and risk the mother fucking airlines losing it. They've done it before. I can do without my clothing changes I guess..but I'd go apeshit without my chess study materials.
Good thing I'm not a goddamned golfer. How do you transport clubs?
Of course I can look forward to a nice airport security search looking the way I do..but I laugh it off. It's painless. I'm not a drug dealer or smuggler. The powder they'll see in a medicine vial will be Jew salt to flush my sinuses out with. Let their dogs sniff THAT.
If you're in the neighborhood of Las Vegas the weekend after this one come on down to the Riviera and watch my smoke as one of 900 participants in the "National open". I'm playing in the big boys "open" championship section where I stand no chance of a prize but likely will also avoid having to play well rested 10 and 9 year old prodigy's with their professional trainers and happy meals. I'm hoping to play some worn out old masters who've slipped over the years so I can steal some rating points from them as an underdog.
If I win a couple games out of six I'll be ahead of the game in this tough section. I'll likely get stomped by some good players..but THAT"S how you learn..not by playing people your own strength. Yeah, at my age I'm still working on improving..just like your old man the golfer. UURRRPPPPPP................
6/1/06
There's no such thing as a nice gentle stroll through the campus of Texas State..the local university I'll evidently be attending. Much of Texas is flat as a board, but San Marcos is on the edge of the Texas hill country which is one wild hilly region. The deeper part of the hills was one of the last places in the U.S. to get hooked up for electricity. It's sure as hell not like anything you see on "Dallas" reruns or "King of the hill".
I climbed LBJ's name sake street to get to my appointment today with an academic advisor. It's clear I'll either get my legs in shape going to school or snap an ankle or blow out a knee.
The lady had worked up a sheet of paper figuring out what classes I need to take. It's a pretty odd batch of classes. First off, as a history major you'd expect that I'd be studying history...NOPE. I came very close to getting my degree back at Portland State university. I took almost enough advance history courses to satisfy the Texas requirements. I need to take 2 more advanced courses...that's it. My minor will be English..a subject I took so many courses in 20 years ago that I only need to take a couple advanced lit classes. BIG DEAL. I read so much it'll be a cake walk.
My time instead will be spent fulfilling requirements I either missed along the way or have been added on over the last couple decades.
The absolute worst news is the fact that I need to take 4 semester courses in what used to be called a foreign language. The sensitive p.c. bozo's now have dubbed it "modern language".
I've talked to Marla and Elvis in depth to get their advice on whether or not I want to go back to school to study some goddamned foreign...er, I mean "modern" language. They seem to think I can and should do it..so, OK. But what language to study?
Arabic?...HAH! Japanese...oh SUURREEEE. French...I'd rather attend a Baptist seminary. Latin would be fun..but I'd likely be in classes with budding, hard working lawyers. If they grade on a curve I'd be screwed. Portuguese? Italian?...WHY??
I suppose a natural pick living in Texas would be Spanish..but honestly, I'd be at an incredible disadvantage. Lots of students obviously come from homes where somebody speaks Spanish. It'd be easy for them and tough as hell for me. For that matter, one of the reasons I loathe learning a foreign language is I'd feel stupid emulating a native accent in front of other students. Imagine how funny and "white" I'd come across trying to roll my tongue like Desi Arnaz or Ricardo Montlebon.
I'd sooner streak the Christian student association building.
UHH UHH...find another white middleaged guy to laugh at.
That leaves me with the one language spoken by quite a few friends who live in a country I'd actually enjoy visiting again: GERMAN.
I bet we've had 15 German house guests over the years at least. I'd take a beating for some of them. I'll need to hook up with some of them soon (are you reading this?) so they can offer help or condolences.
German is the language I failed to pass my first year in college. Oh, I got through the first quarter...with a C. The 2nd quarter I withdrew and changed my major seeing the writing ("FLUNK!!!") on the wall.
Can I succeed where I failed when I was 19? I was stoned out of my head daily..constantly back then and had shitty study habits. I quit chess too during the same period of time. I was completely away from my parents squareness for the first time and saw no reason to be sober even at work.
Believe it or not, every now and then I'll be getting really, really, REALLY drunk at about 8:00 a.m. after a long night and I'll start channeling all these German phrases buried in some region of my brain. Elvis has seen it happen...it blows his mind. I'll just start babbling complete sentences like a drunk laying in the gutter outside a beer garden.
That's a positive sign; I'd also like to be able to enjoy (hee hee) a Hitler speech or one of a jillion chess books published in German exclusively. German is a manly language...very gutteral. I won't feel silly spouting off in front of classmates with a table thumping commanding accent.
I learned to drink in Germany at the age of 15. My attachment to German ways is clear.
The other classes I need to take guarantee that I'll get a book out of this back to school experience for sure.
First off, I need to take Freshman level "philosophy".
ME....a goddamned self described (on my business card) philosopher taking freshman philosophy undoubtedly with a bevy of braindead, spoiled rotten products of wealthy homes who drive cars worth half what our house is appraised at.
It should be hilarious observing all the naive business majors struggling with alternate ideas.
Almost as funny as the freshman political science courses I have to take. Yeah...American government and Texas government. Whooo boy.
To fulfill another requirement I'll be taking a bonehead survey course of basic "music" study. YEAH....me..an ASCAP songwriter and veteran recording artist icon.
I've got to take a freshman "speech" course. HHmm. Not as funny...but it might work out to be amusing if I get to choose a subject to expound upon in front of the class. I've got to take a science class....I'll probably take physics...which Elvis found a latent knack for he must have inherited from me.
I've got to take a brief "university seminar" which I believe covers the basics of trying to live like an adult for the first time at a university. Stuff your parents should have told you...and stuff you should know about an institution of higher learning.
The final funny class I may need to take isn't certain...about 50/50 depending on the decision of the university: I may need to take a basic, low level creative writing course. I almost WANT TO TAKE IT. It's no big secret I got a low grade in writing 101 at Portland state...while at the same time selling papers to a business student pal of mine who got an "A". The reason was I always wrote about weird shit from a "sick" point of view to complete assigments. Can I resist the urge to write something I believe in and write dull childish prattle to get a good grade? I dunno. Probably so...after all these years. It'd be fun to turn 'er loose and let 'er rip though.
Surprisingly, all the relatives I've told about my going back to finish my degree have been really positive about it. It seems a bit insane to me, but I'm warming up to the idea of looking good "on paper" for a change.
I've got plenty of writing ideas a degree and a batch of new connections can help see reach fruition. UURRPPPPPPP.
5/30/06
The last years steady stream of death, illness and general disappoinment in many areas has left me in a mindset in which it's rare to find me chuckling or smiling as I go about my duties in the afternoon.
Today at 3:34 p.m. I was roaring with laughter...doubled over.
It's possible I was laughing at YOU...and YOU ...and YOU.
At that moment so much rain was pouring out of the sky you couldn't possibly barbecue, flip a frisbee in a stoned hemp haze or indulge in the favorite local San Marcos water sport: tubing.
Since it was Memorial day and quite a few people aside from the dour cemetary visit crowd were engaged in the pleasures mentioned above...I WAS BUSTING A GUT LAUGHING.
Here's what it sounded like: HA HA HA HA HA HA !!! HO HO HO HO HO HO!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE....
did you get caught in the rain? did it spoil your plans....
PPWWWAAHHHHH!!!!! HA HA HA!!!!
When I used to engage in white trash camping trip fun on holidays we ALWAYS got rained on; we just covered ourselves up as best as we could and doubled up on the drinking. We expected it..it's the luck of the Irwin's.
I celebrated Memorial day by posting tons of great, rare stuff to Ebay...and then later I got my ass whipped red by my best chess computer program. I played AWFUL. I've got my work cut out for me if I wanna be ready for the National open in Vegas coming up.
The super-duper strong antibiotics I just finished taking took their measure of me. They cleared up the last vestages of my sinus infection as far as I can tell; I'm free of cold symptoms for the first time since january. But, I'm left slightly goofy in the head and short on stamina in spite of weight loss and much lowered blood pressure.
I'll force myself to produce. I'm gonna set up a song writing recording situation in the house and crank out 8 or 10 songs about boozing and hatred...my two favorite hobbies aside from chess.
In other news, it's looking like there are damned few obstacles in the way preventing me from going back to school to complete my goddamned degree.
I've got grants covering the $$$$ end; The boundary of the university (Texas state...the "Bobcats") is across the street. The history building is about a mile away as the crow flies..but since I'm into OLD CROW more than the kind with wings and don't want to walk up and down the stately Texas hills between here and there I'm gonna have to drive and park every school day.
Elvis is a healthy, strong man of 21. Even he gets winded walking up and down over the hills at this college. LBJ (the most famous alumni) who used to parade around as a student in his pad naked talking to his dick (he named it "jumbo") loathed climbing the same hills. He managed to acquire what was one of the few cars on campus and the word is the local co-eds accepted rides from him even though they thought he was a pushy, oversexed creep.
LBJ was pretty cool, eh? I don't expect to be giving any rides to co-eds.
I expect to treat my schooling as a full time job..showing up early and not coming home until my studying is through.
I'll be handicapped in certain situations...group work assignments will be HELL. Worst of all, I may have to learn Spanish. On the other hand, the written assignments that drag down so many students won't be any trouble for me. 10 page paper..20?? HAH! That's nothing.
I'll love having a free pass to the library.
I've already promised Elvis that if I see him I'll duck into a doorway so I won't embarass him. He says don't worry....he's stationed at the theatre building which is at least a half mile away over a few hills from the history compound. He says we'll never see each other.
That's wishful thinking on his part.
I'm seeing the history dept. academic advisor on Thursday. If she doesn't throw a spanner in the frigging works I'll be going to a silly "orientation" session designed for 18 year olds and their parents to kick off my grand return to the halls of academia.
I still say it sounds like a Jim Varney movie plot.......
5/25/06
It's been a bit more lively around here the last few days; G.G.'s old band the Murder Junkies (with Jeff Clayton as crooner) spent 3 nights. The deal was, they didn't want to stay at some goddamned punk rock party house. They got all the sleep they wanted around here.
It may come as a learning experience to many of you, but plenty of bands on the road need a place to relax where they won't be constantly pestered by legions of perhaps well intentioned but giddy drunk fans. I know that's what I need most of the time.
On the other hand, others want to cut loose 24/7 and consume all the booze and drugs in sight and get laid as often as possible. There's certainly nothing wrong with that. More power to you if you're a musician and that's what you want.
The M.J.'s were good guests. They're truly one of a few bands going that I'd say have much at all in common with Rancid Vat. They are heels...but intelligent ones. Merle Allin is obviously the guiding hand behind the band. He's always been friendly to us...but I admire the fact that he can be a DICK when it comes to being jacked around by people.
I should strive to be more like him. I'm too nice.
I should also strive to be half as organized as he is when it comes to taking care of business. We've played with the Murder Junkies in the past but I never got to see a bit of his methodical preperation in action.
Dino is....Dino. He's a unique guy. A true icon for folks sick of predictable phoney rock star bullshit. A fine drummer of course...and a favorite of fans into sick music.
Guitar player Scott is one of those guys who knows how to wrangle the sweet spots on his Les Paul whilst maintaining a full-throttle chord sound. A fine player....and a good enough driver that he can do something I never could do: back up his van with a Uhaul trailer behind it.
Since I'm still in the final days of taking intense antibiotics (actually I took my last pill earlier today) I volunteered to be for the first time in my life..the DESIGNATED DRIVER on a run to Austin to see the Murder Junkies warm up for none other than Hank III.
My passengers for the night (Marla was busy at work..inventory) were Mark and Germ. It was a good drive up. I worried that I'd be hershey-squirting every 5 miles due to the pills, but I didn't move my bowels for about an 18 hour period that sandwiched the show.
First thing when we got there I hunted down Jeff Clayton so he could introduce me to III if he was available. I've certainly written enough about the man over the years and exposed enough friends to his music that it seemed like a good idea.
I don't feel right about pestering musicians who don't want to be disturbed. I've done so a couple times and felt bad about it later. Jeff said it was ok though. We made our way to the back of his bus which was filled with resting musicians in bunks as opposed to being a big party scene.
I felt honored to shake his hand and show him my tattoo of his Grandpa. I told him about the plan Mark and I have to add smaller portraits of him and his Dad (Hank Jr....duh) sort of peaking around the brim of Hank's stetson. He seemed to approve of that. And so it shall be done.
We got to see his rib cage tattoo of Jeff Clayton garbed in one of his many persona's. Jeff took a photo...and then a couple of me and III...one of which involves him posing with my tattoo. We'll post 'em somewhere on this website soon I guess.
We climbed off the bus and got back into the building just in time for Jeff to run up on stage. They did a bang up set. Lots of old favorites (including "drink fight and fuck") I wish I didn't have to be a pussy and stand back 2/3rds of the way to the door but I was using ear plugs for the first time at a live music show. It felt awkward at first but by the end of the set I forgot I was wearing them.
Germ and Mark were really upset that they didn't play "bite it you scum". We strolled outside to enjoy the Texas night and guzzled some beers. I was planning on allowing myself 3-4 beers early on which I'd sweat off before the end of the night when it'd be my turn to bear the heavy cross of being the "designated sissy" driver.
I only exceeded my limit by a bit; I drank 5. Yes, I DO COUNT when I drink so few. I had a great time during the 2 1/2 or so hours Hank III busted his ass beginning with traditional country music and ending up with loud as shit stuff with Ass Jack. The man works really hard and delivers the goods. I'm not going into the details here because I want to save it for a column for AMP magazine in which I'll discuss his new CD which I'll soon be acquiring.
The drive home felt very, VERY strange with me behind the wheel.
Mark and Germ were drunk and happy...and I couldn't wait to get home so I could have some more. I don't regret having to be almost sober, but I don't want to make a habit of it either.
The band eventually got back and settled in. Dino checked to make sure the cats hadn't snatched his Slim Jim's from where he hid them in the freezer. I don't think he was worried about them eating them but he didn't want their cat hair all over 'em. Makes sense to me.
The next night they played in San Antonio. I didn't go, but Elvis and his fiance did and had a great time even though the club had no a.c. and was boiling hot.
Today (well, yesterday by now) the boys had a day off and went out to a couple shops to get tattoo'd. I picked up Jeff at Live Electric where Mark did a commemorative piece in the memory of his Granny who lived to be 99. I drove him by the old apartment we lived in and showed him the tree my little shit bird (remember him from years ago in this diary?) lived in and tormented me daily from with his squawking.
They left eventually for Lubbock.
Jeff will sing with them as far as Las Vegas and then tag-in another guy I'm not familiar with.
As for me, I'm glad to be done with these pills. My sinus infection seems to be dead. I dunno, I still have to hear the verdict of my cat scan. The next day I have an appointment with an academic advisor from the history department of Texas State. I've got to sign up for classes which begin in August. I think I have to take several non-history classes. Ouch. At least the grant money will pay for them.
Just like Jim Varney and several other film stars I'll be going back to school if it seems feasable. It's gonna be a barrel of laughs I suppose. Remember that movie "Mr. Belvedere (sp?) goes to college"? I wonder if there'll be a "beard week"? I'll be useful if so. I'll try out for the chess team too.
5/21/06
The Murder Junkies are coming to town...with Jeff Clayton singing..or should I say "growl heaving" as one reviewer over simplified his gifted song warbling long ago.
I want to go to the shows in Austin and San Antonio..but these heavy ass antibiotic pills I have a few days left of have a knack for inducing unexpected shit fits on me with about a minutes warning.
People close to me see me concerned about shithouses being available at places I venture to...and I'm sure must worry that my bowels are weak. Actually, they've not been more normal and boring in many years. I'm not ready for "shields" quite yet.
I've simply HAD IT with doing the "where am I gonna shit??" dance.
Anybody who has read "Jobjumper" will know what I went through in graphic detail trying to find a place to shit daily working stationed at Philly's city hall. Music venues are hopeless when it comes to providing a place to shit. Big outdoor festivals are bad, tiny hole in the wall clubs are hopeless.
When I was younger, I drove around drunk all the time and if I felt like I needed to piss..I pulled over onto a side street and whapped it out and did so.
Likewise, if I had to take a shit I simply started looking having faith that there would be a stool available. That lead to a lot of bad experiences. After many years of figuring the gods would provide...I'm more wise to the fact that they don't always.
I don't piss in side streets anymore, I hardly ever drive more than a mile or two drunk and I weigh heavily the shithouse situation and what I've been eating before I go out in public.
I also don't have "faith" that parking will be available...or that the club won't be sold out for shows we drive 25 miles to see in Austin.
Luckily, I learned that the Austin show is being held at a blues/jazz/eclectic (I hate that word) club...which means a stronger likelyhood that the stalls aren't totally annihilated like venerable punk rock clubs like CBGB's, Emo's and about 90% of the dumps we've played at in many States over the years.
I merely request that I be able to SHIT WHERE I GO; isn't that a basic human right? Where's frigging Kofi Annan when you need him?
Anyway, I'm gonna do my best to go. It'll be my first live music coming back from being deaf.
The bands bunking here...that oughta score some more points with our neighbors, ehh?
Speaking of neighbors, the party rental house across the street was empty for a while but now has new tenants. I've been watching them closely being a natural born voyeur. I've got to admit I had my doubts about this crew when I saw a 20 year old female renter pulling up in an extremely expensive looking yellow Corvette. Actually, it wouldn't matter if she was a guy. WHO ON EARTH buys their kid a car like that thinking it's going to amount to anything but destroying their sense of reality? There are scores, hell hundreds of children of rich fucks driving cars like that around this college town. They drive like nostril mining morons..with a cellphone always pressed to one ear maintaining some sort of needless conversation for styles sake.
I thought at first she moved into the place with two male spoiled brats driving SUV rigs their own Daddy's clearly provided. Now I'm not sure how many people live there. One thing's for sure...they've thrown parties 4 nights out of 7. They play music a helluva lot louder than the last bunch of frat boy renters; my chess study / drinking was interupted at 5:00 a.m. the other night by a cranked up "dream on" by Aerosmith (their worst song?).
Of course I'd rather see them getting groggled every night than being boring fellowship of christian athlete twerps. I watch them because that's MY THING...just like that Marvel comics god like charachter the "watcher".
I suck on cold beers and peer out my window at them with the detachment and respect you'd give an ant farm...or the bunghole scratching monkeys at the goddamned zoo. What the hell...5 years from now all those party animals will be boring, proper and mature newlyweds living in gated community condo's..still depending on Daddy to provide vehicles and backup whenever they fuckup.
Hey, it could be worse...a bunch of hand gesturing wiggers could've rented the place out. That wouldn't even be funny.
UURRPPPPPPP.
5/18/06
I'm still not done dealing with my hearing-loss / sinus infection related condition. I went to a special "imaging" specialist for a sinus cat scan the other day. I'm told it's for precautionary purposes...I'm crossing my fingers. Hopefully they won't find any tumors or birds nests up there.
I remember Mick Foley writing in one of his books about the "joys" of modern day xray equipment. I hoped I wouldn't wind up inside a pill shaped cylinder being tormented by nurse assistants and candy stripers laughing at my misery.
On this day, I happened to find a seat next to a guy my age who was wearing Harley Davidson apparel and had a vague biker look. As you may know, I get the "where's your Harley?" bit all the time..I just have the look...not the bike.
Instead of worrying about the prospects of cancer or whether they were gonna jam something really big up my nose and leave it there until I sneezed I found myself inventing a scenario in my head. WHAT IF one of the nursing associates told one of her alert co-workers to go get the biker looking guy sitting next to me for his possible pelvis scan or his total body check and they nabbed me (there for a mere sinus scan) instead? Crazier things have happened.
I envisioned getting into the xray room with a local broad I'd likely see down at the bar at some point in the future and having her say "please remove your clothing and lie flat on the bench". I'd strip to my worn out shorts recalling those childhood prayers Mother taught me hoping I wouldn't have to shuck them too after being handed a breezy hospital gown that my tools and ass would hang out of.
Hey, it's not like I haven't had a female Doctor who looked like Bo Derek ram her fingers up my ass (a true story) but you don't mentally prepare for that sort of thing when your problem is a sinus goddamned infection.
I envisioned the guy I was confused with wondering why they're scanning his noggin. Meanwhile, in and out of the cat-scan glory-hole mouth I'd bob back and forth until finally somebody came to their senses and rescued me...too late.
Of course none of this happened. I stretched flat out on my shrinking gut (shrinking from the low-sodium diet that makes for mandatory weight loss..there's no such thing as spontaneous fast meals) and propped my bearded chin on a little brace. She switched the contraption on. In and out and in and out and finally IN. I found myself almost laughing at the ridiculousness of being at the mercy of the medical profession.
They could have rammed a harpoon up my lily white ass. I offered no defence. Still, even though I tried to envision myself as being brave to laugh it all off for the most part, I knew that was a load of fake novelty store turds. It wasn't a pimple on the ass of what my old man went through dying of cancer in the Kaiser death-camp or what my sister whose survived cancer TWICE has gone through.
I put that place behind me with a chuckle...and a cold Lone Star on my mind glad that the pelvic scan or superslow-lung exam was dealt to someone else that day. The message of course is expect the fucking worst and when you get dealt something a bit less it's almost a joy.
All the rest is like the brackish antibiotic inspired fowl shit I blow into the bowl....nice enough, but not worth focusing on for long.
5/15/06
I had to send the following email to "my space" this morning after receiving one of their garbage, annoying "invitations"...FUCK 'EM.
"Dear sirs: I received one of your event "invitation's" with this mornings email; the fact is, you folks cancelled our band's account only citing a bevy of mysterious, generic and cowardly reasons.
Does the left hand know what the right hand is scratching out there in California?
Hey, if you want no part of us..we certainly don't want any contact with you.
Please, cease and desist sending us unsolicited "invitations".
Philip Irwin / "Rancid Vat"
p.s.....I hope your Mothers got douche and deodorant jumbo gift packs for Mothers day.""
5/12/06
If you think I'm "uncool" or some sort of head case for not appreciating the wonders of "my space" (see my last entry) you'd be shocked at what my old buddy Mike McNally said.
He thinks it's a perfect activity....for teenage girls; and that you males of all ages out there who are so obsessed with it are little SISSY-BOYS.
He compared it to teenage girls of the 1950's-60's sprawled out on their beds with their feet kicked back over their little ponytails yakking away on their PRINCESS phones. It brings Barbie to mind, eh?
Anyway, it's as simple as this: MY SPACE is the modern equivalent of the pink PRINCESS telephone according to McNally.
It's not MANLY. He obviously doesn't give a damn how many of you gossipy girly-men keep using it though...nor how many of you are wearing panties under your male outer-wear.
Think about it. My gut level feeling is that he's RIGHT. Men have better things to do than chattering through a keyboard like a little nance.
The sad thing is, many of you fem-space "men" will think that this is some sort of joke..that he's kidding. You'll think differently when you catch yourself squatting to piss one of these days or getting teary eyed at a greeting card.
5/10/06
Wow, something great happened today; Rancid Vat got kicked off of "my space". The "cancellation" notice was so vague and murky I'll never know exactly why. That's ok! It's possible somebody complained about us being offensive in some way..which I plead guilty to anyway. We didn't go out of our way to offend..whomever was shocked or disgusted by our rather blase page did us a favor.
Of course it's possible that we were booted off for some sort of "copyright" reasons related to our band name being similar to the band Rancid. We were always getting misdirected invitations to them. If that's the case 1) I don't fault the band or members because I sincerely think they as successful individuals don't have the time to waste on a fan-site. 2) When our first record came out we wisely declared our copyright intentions by sending a copy to the library of congress. In the long run that's a pretty solid bit of data to fall back upon.
We were frequently getting friend requests on my space from people who were using famous peoples names or project names to buddy up to us. I heard my space was having a real problem with that. Maybe some search program surmised that we were trying to capitalize off of "Rancid's" fame.
I was irked at Marla the day she set up the R.V. my space profile. I calmed down some and got used to it...although I never once requested that anybody be our friend. I know Marla did the first day towards a few people we know.
I don't think anybody in the band had any problem with it except for me.
Yeah, I"M the weirdo...I'm the antisocial one.
Actually, I've never been pleased at using whore-like tactics to advance the popularity of a band. I know some people whom I consider friends spend A LOT of time on "my space" and love it; they get excited and anxious to check it everyday and look at all the pictures people send and the clever one-line comments complimenting each other back and forth.
BACK and forth back and FORTH. You bend over for me and say you like my band and we'll flip over and I'll service you back.
From day one we were getting "friend" requests from HORRIBLE fucking bands up in Austin..christian metal outfits, MTV style punk rock bands, etc. These people didn't want to be our "friends"; they obviously got in touch with anybody new on my space in the region in order to form a shallow mutual admiration society relationship.
You bend over for our band..we'll bend over for yours. We'll pretend to be friends,,,and send each other "event" invitations. Behind the phoney jargon and electronic high-fives and empty promises and insincere compliments on each others downloads there's a hope on each side that they can somehow "use" this new "contact" or "connection".
I felt alright linking up and declaring friendship to people I already know I suppose. But I never felt completely at ease being part of some ass-kiss self promotion circlejerk. Getting booted off solves the problem for me. Since I was the only band member who didn't like "my space" I went along with it while it lasted. The rest of 'em are all nicer people than me I guess.
I have a few serious words for those struggling, aspiring 2 and 1/2 million "my space" bands out there.
Honestly, THINK...THINK. What kind of band do you want to be? A mere asshole sucking gaggle of magpies? Or do you want to take it to the next level?
If you spent the same amount of time working to professionally IMPROVE your band that you spend trying to "promote" your band could it pay off?
Do you sound like a jillion other acts? If so you'll do well at finding "friends" at my space" but you're not going anywhere. Realize it now...or realize it later. Get used to it...there's nothing wrong with not making it "big". But, make some changes if you really want to make it: Break up your band and work on something either original (that'll take a bit of work) or jump on a trend that's just barely on the horizon. Don't focus on playing what you "like"..play what will sell to industry decision makers. Get together with bandmembers who are chosen for their being young, good looking and upwardly mobile as opposed to being old friends. Heave the old friends and their weaknesses overboard; don't worry..most of them will find "hobby" bands to play with. Don't fuck around with "my space" personally if you really want to succeed. When you sign a deal the label will have employees to deal with all that crap for you in your name.
Then again, if you don't give a rats ass about your band being big....stay tuned to this page....follow my example...and one day maybe you too will find yourself banned from "my space" and clubs in several States.
5/08/06
I TOLD YOU SO!! I just love saying it..I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO!!
I predicted in a thoughtful piece the results of the world cowering in fear at the demonstrations against the simple "prophet" drawings published in Denmark and other places. Few stood up for freedom of expression (Bush waffled on it..predictably. He knew what was coming too).
Now, the Catholics are "offended" by the Da Vinci code film that hasn't even been released yet. On Sunday I read reports from around the world of Cardinals and other church leaders demanding that the world pay the same respect to their faith that was accorded to the Muslims.
Go look; the stories are everywhere.
They even recommended that other christian churches take legal action against the film.
Now watch what happens. Next the cold blooded and near Catholic Lutherans and the Church of England will come out against it. Like a stack of fucking domino's more and more churches will feel compelled to join in until eventually some of the real nutjob conservative whacko's will point out that they too deserve to have their faiths protected against what in effect will be anything that they feel puts them down. The Mormons, church of Scientology, Jehovah's witnesses, Sun Myung Moon's proselytizing flower salescrew church, the Holy fucking rollers, the anti-gay / anti-American kook church in Kansas...they'll all demand the same "protection" and respect.
Unless something happens to stop the domino action it will become dangerous for writers, film makers, artists, musicians, etc. to make what are interpreted as negative insinuations against even the most extreme lunatics.
I can think of a few songs I've written and recorded with bands that could make me wind up in hot water...not to mention all the years of evil columns in magazines.
You'd better hope that enough sinners with clout suddenly realize the slippery slope leading non-believers straight to the shit pile.
THIS OF COURSE as predicted is exactly why Bushes think tank didn't advise him to pitch a bitch about freedom of speech for the cartoonists and journalists. They've wanted to have the power to shut down trouble making atheist and heathen scum "hiding behind freedom of speech" for a long time...here's their golden chance...STAY TUNED.
5/07/06
I've been doing some thinking lately trying to define closer the worst assholes in all of humanity. I think I've arrived at an answer...at least for today.
It's not an easy question since our species annoys me in more ways than I could list here over an entire weekend; somebody would inevitably email me with an aspect of humanoid behavior that pisses me off that I had forgotten.
I think the greatest assholes of them all are the folks who wake up in the morning...EVERY morning prepared to find fault with whatever joys common people may find since their good feeling or moment of glory or emotional high is an INDIVIDUAL gain that can't be shared with all those luckless bastards either born into bad situations or stuck in one. I also need to include sourpuss bastards who have made some sort of personal choice faith wise or ethics wise that precludes them from granting somebody else with different convictions (or no convictions) from enjoying a good day based on their own way of looking at things.
Very, very often these grouchy fucks claim to represent some unseen horde of less fortunate people...meaning that they consider themselves do-gooders.
An example. A group of people are about to consume a big pile of meat at a holiday get together and some mouthy idealist who doesn't eat meat has to choose that occasion to start up a verbal "meat is murder" debate. To me, this is as wrong as meat eaters taunting or force feeding meat to a non meat eater. Hey, if you're out numbered, why not skip the get together if you value the people involved? Only an immature twerp would think they're going to change people eating habits with some spiel.
"Cause oriented" types are often as obviously annoying on a daily basis as proselytizing religious people..whom many of them claim to be diametrically opposed to.
NOTE!!!! My disgust is not slanted politically. I've been annoyed at least as often in public by motor mouth Limbaugh "need to tell" types as people who stand opposed to him. I wish all of these people would take their best shot at friends and co-workers a time or two..and then gracefully go off somewhere else (maybe to a website like this?) and preach their sermons.
This unfortunately will never happen...the obvious fact of which maybe gives you insight as to why I don't get along with this species.
What? you want an example? OK. Lots of varying faiths (including the one I was brought up around..they force fed it to me like a half dozen strong Uncles and male cousins cramming meatloaf down a vegetarians craw with a funnel) believe in the notion that the believers work is not done on the planet until you convert all your loved ones to your "faith".
I've worked with many, many rude christians who blathered on and on and on and on; believe it or not, as a result I had a bit of respect for people with a faith in supposedly the same god who preached to me once...and then let it go having tried.
Ever dreamed of winning the lottery? If you do, you're gonna see people from your past pop up out of nowhere with an incredible variety of hard luck stories and moralistic sermons as to why you should be sharing your winnings.
AM I GETTING CLOSER to defining the greatest assholes on the planet? People who smugly put YOU DOWN as being selfish in your time of rare joy on this planet deserve any sort of payback you want to whack 'em with in my book.
Hey, how do you feel about the notion that it's wrong for YOU..SELFISH YOU...to drive a Lexus or live in a big house as long as there are folks who are suffering?
Never mind the fact that you didn't CREATE this world and all the problems that come along with it; never mind the fact that you can suffer for 25, 50, 75 years and only then finally have a day where you maybe came out on top and can live in a relaxed manner with some luxuries...their attitude is "HEY, FUCK YOU! How can you enjoy that feast while others are starving?".
Those people are the bottom of the fucking barrel in my book; cheap pests looking for attention and a "goodguy badge" as Uncle Anton wrote.
If I won a lottery and people I know or used to know came around (oh yeah...you might be one of them) I'd give them an honest yes or no the first time; after that, I'd do like the Rockefeller who created their family fortune did. He carried around rolls of dimes. I'd peel off one to them and wave goodbye.
It's not always about money. How do some of you young parents feel about the fact that when your kids hit school they will likely run into teachers and adminstrators who FROWN on and PISS ALL OVER kids with "gifts"? It might not bother you unless one of your brood is intellectually advanced or artistic which can range from being a talented dancer or painter to an egghead chess player like I was. There are forces out there in the school system dedicated to making sure your child doesn't advance past "the group"....."THE GROUP".
The SAME group that must always receive identical trophies and plaques and certificates for sports activities in some circles....PISSING ALL OVER the talented kids accomplishments.
Hey, talented kids should receive tokens of acknowledgement. That's how WINNERS are produced. If you ignore individual skills you discourage kids from working on their art or their game or their math concepts. That pisses me off.
Hey, I'm not saying you have to respect individuals accomplishments or "big days" or victories. I believe that as a common courtesy I advocate removing yourself from their vicinity.
This explains my support of same sex marriages. As a society, how can we piss all over these folks who just want to have their "big day"? Do you want me to send some rude fuckers over to rain all over your next big "parade"?? HHmmm??
STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY when I finally find a reason to be happy...and I'll do the same for you FISH FACE. OK????
5/04/06
We're gonna have the first RV practise since I went deaf tomorrow night. I WILL be using ear protection. Oddly enough, I have an appointment for a lengthy and detailed hearing test the very next day. I think it'll all work out based on what I've heard from people who have used it for a long time including music fans. I've hit it off well enough with my hearing specialist and been very frank with him about the fact that we play loud as fuck rock and roll...and he's dealt with enough musicians (shit..maybe he's making his living off of them in this musical area) that he knows what the hell is going on and says normal cheap ear protection you can buy at home improvement centers works great.
I was alarmed talking to one of Mark and Germ's pals from Illinois a couple months or so ago who is some sort of construction worker and is near 30; he knows he's lost significant hearing but seemed to proudly refuse using hearing protection.
He was a nice guy...and I hope it was just partly the booze talking. What you lose you don't get back. You can get a hearing aid. That's good. I'd avoid it if possible. I preached about this once and said I wouldn't again...but I guess I lied. Can you blame me...facing either a triumphant return to playing lovely music or a debacle?
One things for sure, we aren't gonna tone things down.
That would be assinine. I wonder what sort of hearing aids Lemmy uses...or the guy from the Who (I don't like 'em...but I wonder what he uses). How many of the Ramones were near deaf when they died? That's todays rhethorical trivia question...UURRPP.
I've been sick a long damned time...but have benefited from it all in the long run. My blood pressure is getting low for an obese drunk. My eyes were red and often bloodshot for a long time I remember. I'm white eyed as a teenager now. I used to fear in the back of my mind a heart attack in lots of situations. It would just be bad luck now...and "ironic" (I hate that overused word).
Best of all, I'm gazing at some empty 16 ounce beer cans and a partially drained pint of Beam I still get to enjoy. Got health problems? don't quit drinking...quit doctors...or GP's at least.
I'm looking forward to some two fisted drinking with my bandmates. I've missed 'em...I love this current batch..at least more than they probably figure. I don't know if they have any idea how far gone I was...they won't be hanging out with a near corpse or a sad weenie during practise though. If I can draw a grandmaster over the chessboard, I sure as hell can lead the charge of a 3 chord bonehead rock band.
Hey, what's this with Joey out in the bay area and a discussion group for "cheap" beer on "myspace"? The invitation to join the group had a picture of an ancient can of "Burgie". I bet Mike McNally remembers Burgie. I know I do. It was cheap and nasty stuff. When is somebody going to rediscover "cascade" beer? It was truly awful but only $2.99 per 12 pack in Portland in the early 80's. Then there's "bohemian club" which McNally and I loathed for ages...but eventually began buying in cases of quarts (.69 cents per quart or so?).
I wish somebody would film a documentary on cheap beer and let me narrate it; I guess that would be some sort of lifetime achievement goal for me.
Any takers???
.