Whiskey Rebel's Diary Archive
11-26-06 to 1-31-07
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since 05/28/01
01/31/07
Some people call them baby boomers; to me they are all goddamned hippies.
The rotten, stinking, halfwit, ideolistic morons of that generation have plagued me since I was a child.
History lesson: I was born in 1957...too late to be part of their fuckedup crap.
I remember it all too clearly though. Filthy fucking hippie pigs wallowing in their own pathetic drug induced spaced out imbecility. Trying to claim some sort of vision or moral higher ground on the people in charge..the "establishment" the "parents" ....the WWII and depression survivors.
Yes, the WWII gen people were stodgy old fucks. I was raised by a couple who had been through hard times in the 30's & 40's.
Oh well. When I was new in the work force in the mid 70's I had many a boss from the "Bob Dole" generation. They're mostly filling diapers now. Yunno, I didn't mind them much; at least you always knew where you stood with them.
The hippies on the other hand "progressively" have spewed out as they got older tougher stances on moral issues. What? They undid most of what the hell they accomplished in the first place. They epitomized the old "do as I say not as I did" shakey position.
Now everywhere I look in the political scene I see hippies...FUCKING STINKING goddamned hippies in both parties. Some are born again conservatives some are vomit inducing p.c. lib's.
I hate them all....but as of a few hours ago I have new incentive to live to an old age. I finally realized that if I live into my early 70's I'll have the incredible joy of WATCHING THEM DIE IN DROVES.
If you're in your 20's or early 30's you may not quite be able to fathom my happiness. Aren't I being over the top "negative"? aren't I being a "hater"?? Well, walk a mile in my worn out Converse sneakers and you might understand where I'm coming from.
I've been stuck in this in between generation that is small in numbers compared to the hippie assholes my whole life. They've been in the drivers seat most of the time. I'm so sick of hearing how their generation "changed the world" when they've collectively undone anything they accomplished in their struggle against puritan morality.
Bottom line: they may have raised hell in the late 1960's, but that's ancient history. They pussed out, gave us disco and Yanni and are as sappy as their "establishment" parents ever were.
I can't wait to watch them all DIE!!!!!!!!!
01/30/07
It's a fact..I just don't grease farts all the time like I used to. It's gotta be a combination of the low sodium chow I eat and my very beer heavy compared to whiskey ratio as far as my nightly drinking on school days goes. I fart rarely and I...well, I sort of miss it.
Unfortunately, I've experienced a couple wafts of fart scent from other students over the last couple days. Those deadly silenters; it's a shame but I bet I get blamed for a lot of them based on my general appearance and demeanor.
Hey, it's not me..not these days.
On days like today when I'm bombarded by soundbites on the radio and TV of Jane fucking Fonda and Hillary the Nazi p.c. bitch Clinton and that looney Sheehan cunt I want to drop my sweat pants and pump-spew a stream of diareah all over my youthful classmates. But, I just crap a couple times before leaving the house in the morning and all is well for the day I'm afraid.
Sorry. I don't mean to be such a dull bastard.
Our old toilet song "window on the world" is running through my head right now.
Mike Schuppe did indeed make it to our Hause on Saturday night. We drank and whooped it up pretty good I thought. Elvis and his fiance and Mark all came by. It was a pretty straight forward night of good old drinking.
Will my Brother Clinton be the next one to visit?
If so, will he fart, drink something funny or good old corporate beer? I don't know. Even the cats fart more than me these days....and that's a melancholy sort of realization I must ponder in depth...UURRppp......
01/26/07
I'm glad I got married 29 years ago and don't have to drag my ass around the University looking for women.
If I did, I discovered today where I'd start. I ran the idea past Marla and she nodded in approval that my idea is good.
It started when I got stuck on a shuttlebus for 12 minutes ( seemed more like an eternity on a galley slave boat ) with a gaggle of screechy, smiley, immature, look-alike sorority girls. The whole damned bunch of these little bitches are clearly trying to sustain their high school social dominance. Of course WE know that once high school is over, it's OVER..don't we? They'll never dominate things like they did back in what for them all their lives will seem like the "good old days". The best thing they can do is find a husband with good career prospects and a decent sized dick. Yes, I've bitched about these broads in the past. When I'm around 3 or 4 of them I'm able to maintain a passive attitude towards them. When I'm stuck with a mob of them within close range with all their "like like" bullshit talk I go ape. This bunch was no worse than the ones I've seen before; today I happened to look past the plastic grins on their mugs at the other passengers on the bus. I saw two different women about the same age who clearly weren't part of this group. They were both separately ( unbeknownst to each other ) staring FUCKING DAGGERS at the sorority darlings. They seemed to be dressed for comfort...packing large bags of books around.
If I was a guy in that age group shopping around for a woman, guess where I'd start? You got it.
Fraternity men are a much maligned group. A lot of folks don't like em, but it occured to me today looking at that batch of sorority Queen's that those guys have got to be tough as nails and fearless to date those honey's with all the spoiled, catty crap they have to listen to from them. If they start viewing them as convenient pieces of ass..sex objects to be seduced, who can blame them? Let the sweet talk begin. I have a whole new respect for these guys...I couldn't put up with that shit for 2 hours. I admire their courage and tenacity....urppp..here's to 'em!
1/24/07
Slogging through the rain and the mud to get to the shuttlebus this morning I realized I felt OK in spite of the short term misery. Once I get to the campus I get to see lots of kids who can't adjust looking very concerned and in pain.
Of course the slightly older students in their 20's handle it like Texan's. In other words, with a "bring it on" mentality. A little rain and muddy shoes for a couple weeks isn't shit compared to REAL winters elsewhere.
Global warming? I seriously doubt it. If Al Gore is the prime spokesman for a cause, it's likely a contrived bit of exaggeration. There might be something to it, but I'll worry when G. Gordon Cranium Liddy expresses fear.
Due to my German class being located way the hell out of the over a tall hill LBJ undoubtedly bitched about, I'm getting a real workout. It's held in a building in which the ever popular ROTC and criminal justice programs are based. It's clear when you think about the liberal nature of the University administration and faculty why these departments are stuck in the Siberia of San Marcos.
My legs, feet and ass muscles are howling...but I supposed it'll just make me stronger.
I've developed a brisk new method of drinking for all these nights in which I read text books until the wee hours. I switch from reading and listening to classical music in my throne with Dixie perched asleep on top to a vigorous couple of hours at the PS2. The game I'm focusing on has been Tiger Wood's golf for 8 months. I'll be switching to baseball and poker soon.
Anyway, I don't drink whiskey before an early morning of classes. I drink about 10 beers or so in about an hour and a half and stay up for another half hour to piss most of it out. Then, 4-5 hours of sleep hopefully and up to greet the new day.
I've had a rule for years: I don't play or study chess while drinking ( well, much )...and I don't study for my classes while drinking either. When I change channels I start pouring it down, hell bent for leather ( whatever that means..lickety split ). 10 beers spread out over 5 hours is pitiful...10 beers in an hour and a half is soothing.
It makes me sleepy much of the time..and I never have hangovers from nice, pure corporate beer.
An unexpected dividend of my present low sodium eating routine is the jolly fact that I don't fart very often at all...go FIGURE? It's beyond the limits of my comfortable crassness to break wind in small classrooms. I bet I did when I was in my 20's and was less disciplined.
Of course good old cheap pruney beer that sells for $4.99 per 12 pack of 12 ounce cans will make you fart like hell compared to the discreet, cosy fartless wonders of Bud, Coors and Thee Highlife. Guess which I don't drink much of right now? Yeah...you got it....UUrrppp
1/22/07
Damn. My brother's nestled in the other end of the state 10 hours away...El Paso. He'll be flying to Kuwait to work on a contractual basis ASAP. I won't see him after all until he comes back here to muster out of the work crew contract.
Where-upon, I have confidence he won't leave the continental U.S. after getting paid without coming here to San Marcos where we'll have a damned mighty shindig.
I'd hate to have to chase him down in Italy to whup his ass like big brothers need to do to little brothers occasionally. The fact that he's 10 years younger and appears in pictures to be in top ass-kicking condition doesn't matter. I'm the better chess player; I'll figure out how to out-fox him. Well, he'll visit here and not test me most likely.
I had a wild dream during one of my naps today. I dreamt I rented my services out in lucrative fashion to local students who wanted a REAL BONA FIDE drunk at their gathering. I think I had about a 2 foot long dick in this dream...and talked like the Fonz.
In reality, I've been studious since the semester began.
I enjoyed the best lecture today since my "come back" to the U. It was 10:00 a.m. I was operating off of only 3 1/2 hours of sleep but managed to grin mightily when my topnotch Roman history Prof. gave an argument about the BENEFITS of being a slave under the right conditions in the age of the Roman Empire. What a cool guy with an inquiring mind. He stated his case in an apolitical fashion..but let's face it...it's very un-p.c. and gutsy to teach these sort of notions. It's only the first lecture of his I've heard. I can't wait for more. I've earned my spot in his class...I'll try to live up to it.
1/19/07
Had a full brace of classes today; it's good to get back to the damned grind. My earliest class M-W-F will be with a brilliant PHD history Prof. who established his veracity in my mind by wearing a tweed jacket to this first class session. He has a French accent, wore a Kravatte as we say in German like Thurston Howell III's and undoubtedly is more plugged in to Rome 100 B.C. than our era.....he's my kind of guy. He's the real McCoy Daddy.
My second scheduled class is so fucking bizarre it deserves full commentary in a roomier format. I won't spoil my long term efforts at relating my experiences ( clearly my strangest course at Texas State hands down ), but to point out the fact that it's so designed for 18-19 year old's I felt almost like a sick old bastard being in the room ( am I that? Well, OK.)
My Political Science class will be all about yelling this semester...quarreling about topical issues. I'm planning on sitting in the front row and only occasionally getting involved. Should be fun to watch.
My German class is with a Prof. who seems like a likeable bloke who keeps things light. Good. No need for too much pressure in a tough class like that. The fellow who got me through my first semester Dr. Brister has retired. I liked him. His last stand left those of us who took his class a chapter ahead of the class I've just joined ( the same text is used throughout the department ). It gives me a workable edge.
The imminent visits of a couple out of towners blows away all my academic thoughts. Mike Schuppe will be visiting in a week. We've known him since 1979 or so. Of course he's a great guitar player ( you'd be wise to get his band the SWINO'S latest cd's ) who I've played with on a couple other projects, but mostly deep down he's our pal from a long time back.
To my way of thinking guys like Mike Schuppe and Mike McNally whom Marla and I have known for so long ( hell I met McNally when I was 16 ) are like Brothers really..I feel the same way about happily a few other friends ( many of whom probably don't suspect I value them quite that much ) I've known for less years...but there's no doubt these 2 guys have been a huge part of my long term stint on this shitty planet.
They've both seen waves of other "friends" come and go. Do you have friends like that?
The best upcoming visit I'm crossing my fingers on. it seems to good to be true.
I came home to an email out of the blue from my Brother in Italy saying he'd be arriving on Texas soil within 24 hours.
In this case my "BROTHER" is definetly not a flattering, exaggerated term.
He fell out of the same womb I did. I've deliberately not gone into too much detail about my blood relatives I've discoverd over the last few years. A waiting period has seemed in order.
I lost another Brother ( well, ok...half ) from my biological Father's side in 2006. I never met him.
This guy, whose been living in Italy with his Wife and 2 boys for a few years oddly enough grew up in a family I wasn't destined to be a part of A FRIGGING 1/2 MILE or so away from where I grew up in Beaverton Oregon.
He pumped gas at a station a friend of mine worked at.
I was a high school student "teacher" at the grade school my siblings including him and 3 Sisters attended. One of those Sisters is also gone now. Too late. I'll never know her. Another Sister chooses to have nothing to do with me and ANOTHER Sister also given up for adoption ( !?) whom I have met a few times and feel very close to. I'm still waiting to meet another Sister in Colorado who acknowledges the reality of having 2 extra siblings but I've been unable to get together with.
My only surviving biological Brother on earth will be pulling into Houston or maybe El Paso within a few hours of this writing.
I've never seen him in person. I've emailed him many times and yakked on the phone for a long time once. From what I've experienced meeting several other blood relatives for the first time as a middle-aged guy I have to admit I'm better prepared for it than him I guess. I've met in person two Sisters, Aunts on both sides, Uncles, numerous Cousins and of course my hillbilly Granny.
Honestly, to me a Brother is somebody very different from all of those folks though.
You get shitfaced drunk with your Brother and if he pukes all over you..well, he's your Brother. Even though we haven't met in person, if he needed a place to stay for a fucking YEAR he'd get it....I'd take a beating for his Sons..and maybe sacrifice my life for them...or his Wife.
But I've never met him in person. Yet.
If it all happens this week and I get to...I'll be so fucking happy. I don't get happy in a giddy way very often.
Maybe we'll put a picture of us on this humble, often negative and scummy website to further the cause of the rights of adopted people to find out who their blood people are at some point in their life.
1/17/07
It's been cold as fuck for a few days now. My first couple days of school were cancelled. Luckily, we'll be back to the academic grind tomorrow. It's high time for a mood of scholarly pursuit to descend back over this city. The students seem to be in a state of non-stop frolic; I want to see them with their noses in books...and if they aren't up to that, I want them to begin feeling sensations of dread in their bellies. The fear of FAILURE.
I've really missed not going to the library to buckle down to a nice long study of German. They've had the whole place locked up for days now. You'd think they'd get it open by escorting librarians on snowmobiles if neccessary. A library is the heart and soul of a University. I can't fathom how they can leave it closed...worse yet, NOBODY seems to care.
Elvis and his fiance stared at me like I'm a nut when I pointed this out to them. They're fine kids, but have been obviously conditioned to be like all the rest.
WHERE are all the serious intellectuals prone to study and hard work in this burg with the library inexplicably and rudely closed? IHOP? Some laundry mat? There must be a few likeminded souls with superior minds who don't have cellphones glued to their ears jabbering to their imbecile friends like magpies..who aren't dependant on TV crap like American Idol or Springer or Dawson's Creek re-runs during this inclement weather. Where do THEY congregate? Is their a Mensa clique I need to meet up with?
To prepare for my most difficult class ( Daily life in the Roman Empire ) I went to Halfprice books the other day and picked up a broad overview historical account of Rome. It's not my area of expertise at all. I'm looking forward to it though..and expect that my fellow classmates ( many of whom might be grad students ) will be more up on things such as a basic timeline of rulers and significant cultural accomplishments. I only know what I've seen on the History channel, and ..that's not gonna cut it.
I've been reading it the last few days while housebound.
The Roman's 2,000 years ago seem to have been way the hell more advanced than quite a few "modern" 3rd world nations. Of course, no professor will be insensitive enough to admit to that publically. The p.c. police would run them out of the University. It's glaringly obvious though. They layed down 52,000 miles of roads that weren't improved upon until the 19th century I am told. They had a form of air conditioning and enjoyed lots of sex. I can't wait to find out whether the "commode's" we enjoy were named after Commodius.
I wonder if they had a fascination with shitting and puking at the same time like superior intellectuals in our day? I know the Roman's loved violent sports including chariot racing, gladiatorial battles to the death and naval battles theatrically re-enacted in flooded amphi-theatres. I know they dug wrestling..what was their version of "professional" wrestling like? I can't wait to find out.
The talk radio host I'm listening to in the background just joked about how rough 3 1/2 days of contact with peoples own families has been in iced up Austin. Cabin fever is roughest on the stupid. Take out their TV and game systems and they're only left with their cell phones and their neighbors. YUCK.
The first days of this cold snap we were totally without heat and our hot water wasn't heating too well. Marla got those problems fixed. She installed a new thermostat. Right now, she's up at work and I'm here sweating it out with the cats. It's BLOODY HOT in here; the damned thermostat is so complex she couldn't figure out how to set it right. It's 82 frigging degrees in here. I peeled down to my underwear and am about to ditch that final layer. I better go wipe my ass thoroughly so I don't leave chocolate kisses on the chairs. Maybe I can get one of the cats to clean my bunghole..they seem to be damned good at it...here kitty kitty kitty......
1/15/07
I hope all the out of town visitors who came out to the show Friday made it the fuck out; we're in the midst of our once per year ice storm in this part of Texas.
It's cold and the roads are treacherous. It doesn't happen often here. I was standing outside of our front door a couple hours ago and saw a couple of the frat boy renters from across the street come out their door as if to drive off to a kegger or the malt shop or a crack house. They didn't get their noses a foot outside their damned door. Common sense prevailed. They headed back inside to re-think the situation. Time to scrape the bong innerds down and dig into the back of the frig for forgotten beers people have left over.
My first day of classes for the new semester was cancelled. I studied anyway on my own..German and a book on Roman history I'm tackling to bring me up to snuff on those dudes.
I'm back to intellectual horseshit after my break....ahhhhhhhh.....
01/13/07
I for one had a great time at our show last night with Hammerlock and Honky. People came from all over. It was fun to talk to a batch of 'em from pathetic Portland especially. I talked to folks from California and from all over Texas including Dallas, Houston, Lubbock and of course San Antonio.
I got to yakk with Liza's cousin Chris Miller who got out of Snoreland a year before we did. He's a great guy. He not only remembers us crossing paths in the early 80's in Portland, he remembers people who even Mike McNally knows.
The clubs booked opening band didn't show up, so we wound up going on first. The audience also included quite a few attendee's of a local tattoo convention who got in on some sort of special deal. It was a strange mixture of people who've seen us over the years from all over and newbies who seemed to be a bit cold at first. We played our damned songs pretty well only fucking one up. I especially enjoyed our Lefty Frizell cover. At the end of our set I wound up picking up a permanent forehead souvenir that didn't want to stop bleeding. It took the Texas Stud a half hour to get it to quit bleeding all over the back room. I had to sit in a chair imobile for awhile. Eventually I had to send a messenger to the stage to tell Hammerlock I wouldn't be able to make it up there to do 4 songs I had been invited to help croon on.
I felt disappointed..yunno. The show must go on...
Finally several songs into their set I realized blood had stopped seeping out from my bandage rig. I carefully waltzed out into the clubroom and asked Marla to find out if Hammerlock could still use me. Luckily those songs were next up as it happened.
I rolled up onto the stage in a dainty fashion and sang along with a towel draped over my noggin at a jaunty angle. Mission accomplished.
After 15 minutes or so at the merchandise table Texas Stud adjusted my bandaged..which turned out to be a mistake of sorts. Blood started spurting 3 inches horizontally out of head. Some concerned ladies came up to help, one of who was a nurse. They thought I should go take my stitches.
I appreciated their help...but wasn't ready quite yet for that. Jeff Clayton told me only a few weeks ago about all the times he didn't really need stitches and wasted hours at the emergency rooms of many nations.
One kind lady who was only trying to help asked what may be on the minds of some of you; "was it worth it?" "are you having fun?" implying I'm an imbecile of sorts.
Well, I've always claimed to be a mixture of a high IQ chess playing brainiac and a goddamned fool at other times. Yes, I had fun in spite of a bloody head wound..but YEAH I can see how stupid it must seem to her and a lot of sensible people.
The fact is, a lot of our fans are into wrestling...BLOODY wrestling. We play more wrestling songs than all but maybe a half dozen fellow enthusiast rock bands in the U.S. We've been doing so for longer than any of them as far as I know.
Some musicians blow fire ( a dangerous parlor trick ) some break guitars, burn piano's, pick fights with audience members, roll in glass, etc...
It's rock and roll.....and it may seem dumb when people get hurt, but that's the way a lot of people like it. I've seen drunken musicians piss off stage, heave their guts out, etc.
A little blood isn't really all that horrible a thing when you think about it.
Most bands do none of the above....they get up on stage and play their rehearsed material and say "thankyou!" and pack up and go home. Of course it goes without saying most bands are also ( not coincidentally ) BORING and routine.
I had to be helped to our car at the end of the night ( thanks ) and lay flat and calm in the shotgun seat and got straight into bed at home and have spent the last 24 hours consuming helpful beverages and foods to build my blood level back up. We disinfected my souvenir and re-bandaged it up.
I don't always write here about this sort of thing, it's fairly routine for me. I've experienced worse on at least a few occasions. I was really stupid in retrospect continuing to drink beer after I had such a bad cut. I DID have fun though.
Some musicians feel that by being junkies they're establishing some sort of credibility with the audience...I guess that fits their schtick...their approach to rock and roll. We just taunt people alot from the stage bust bottles and chairs and mics and other stuff and sometimes bleed.
If you don't like it, come see one of our Alcoholics Unanmous shows..there's never blood. It doesn't fit the material. We get drunk and sing drinking songs.
Well, it's been 24 hours and I'm gonna drink some refreshing blood-thinning beers. It's safe now. Good night.
Thanks again Hammerlock.
1/11/07
Damn, it's been awhile since I updated this. It's not that nothings happening, it's just the opposite. I've had to finish and proof read a major chunk of writing for the new printing of JOBJUMPER. Then of course the Kenney's from Hammerlock have been here for a couple days and nights. I can't write or edit or even chatter here aimlessly with people in the house unfortunately.
They all headed to Austin with the exception of Aaron whose hanging out with Elvis and his fiance at their place. I had to attend to some other business today and may have been a slightly worse host than I could've. Maybe not. Travis was out fishing when I got up. Marla and Liza were out shopping somewhere and Aaron was watching little Cheyenne in our living room and playing some sort of handheld video game.
After explaining to Cheyenne the difference between our two cats ( Mr. Jink is friendly and likes to play with toys...Dixie is my personal beast..a nocturnal stalker who hates everyone and is too cool and mean to play with toys or people ) I took off to buy my books for my upcoming semester of classes.
My history classes will require about 800 or so pages of reading each; I hoped it'd be more. My speech communication class text looks like 350 pages of dog doo...catch phrases and buzz words explaining in detail the most simple aspects of discourse between humans. Lots of blather about "non verbal" communication..YUCK.
It's a required course and I'll do my best, but I fucking HATE IT when people constantly talk with their hands and make body language gestures non-stop. It's distracting to me and when I see somebody obsessed with doing it gyrate for a minute or two even I tune them out.
But shit, I'm the guy who gets irate when news channel geeks refer to THE weather as "your" weather. FUCK. It's not MY weather...it's not YOUR weather...it's THE weather.
MOTHERFUCKING JIVE TURKEYS.
Anyway, our show with Hammerlock is tomorrow night. There's an interesting angle to this one. Liza's Cousin Chris Miller will be bringing his guitar to the club to sit in on some songs...the very same ones I've been asked to help croon on most of which appeared on a 10" record split with the Dead Kings.
Chris Miller was playing in bands in Portland waaaayyyy back when we started Rancid Vat. We sort of halfway knew his Brother Ian who was in a later lineup of Poison Idea and played in other bands such as one called Apt. 3-G if my memory is functioning. We didn't know Chris, but Marla's all female rockabilly band the Redhead's played at least once the same night with one of his bands the Rockin' Razorback's. I actually filled in on drums for a few shows for the band in spite of my lack of a uterus. I seem to recall doing so at a show with those guys, but the memories are hazy.
Mr. Miller has a current band ( I'll know more details about that tomorrow ) and of course has played as a hired gun for many Texas based acts including a couple of my faves Dale Watson and Wayne Hancock ( listen for Wayne's cries of "it's Miller time" on his early cd's). He's a real live, professional guitar player. The guy had the sense to get out of Portland, so he must be a genius.
Did you know Liza had such talented Cousin's? probably not. Hunh.
I don't know why it just popped back in my head..the fact that my incredibly cool Uncle Don's Grandson ( one of 'em ) is evidently launching some sort of musical career at the age of 18. He's a BLOOD relative. I'm not trying to one up Liza. Writing about her kin folk reminded me of this kid who I've got to meet or get in touch with. I'm not sure if he's a cousin or just what you'd call it, but we both were dipped in the same damned gene pool.
Obviously if he really wants to succeed he'll do exactly the opposite as we've done I guess. At least I owe it to him to tell him about what pitfalls we've rushed into or avoided.
I'm putting that on my "to do" list.
For now we'll settle for dealing with tomorrow nights show.
I've got 90% of the lyrics down I need to know to keep from making an even bigger ass out of myself than usual. I gotta go look up the other 10%.
1/02/07
I was yakking with Texas Joey ( yunno..our recent transplanted friend ) about wrestling and he stated his appreciation of Kevin Federline's work in the WWE. To my knowledge and memory, he's the only one of my friends who digs what the guy is doing besides me. I know my bandmates can't stand him.
It's all of course a matter of opinion. Of course he may not have pleased us if it weren't for the horrid state of the promotion. I forgot for a few weeks that ECW even exists; RAW is a show I watch now and then...it's really no more exciting than a re-run on the food network if I have the time to watch TV.
Federline's timing on the mic seems fairly good to me. I don't claim to be some sort of expert and I don't rate matches with stars. I'm just a long-term goddamned fan who knows what I like.
............just now, this entry was interupted by a phone call from the Texas Stud himself ( whom many of you know as Beer )..who like I say hates K-fed. I told him I'm attenpting to write a bit here about the state of wrestling. He cussed out ECW which he says was so frigging bad this week he almost threw a heavy object into his friends TV screen watching it.
We may disagree about Federline, but we're of one voice when it comes to the tragedy that Vince has wrought upon what used to be one of the main sources of entertainment and joy in my life.
I consider the times I took my now grown Son Elvis to the ECW arena ( and of course several house shows ) to be some of the more important times we ever spent together. I can't teach him to fish or hunt, but I know my wrestling well enough I suppose.
We admire professional wrestlers in the Irwin household. Furthermore, I had my beefs with my old man when I was growing up, but he always put "Portland Wrestling" first on Saturday nights. He rarely missed it. It was one of the only things we did together. For that matter even my Mother whom I've vented about here many times was a regular fan of the show. She watched it with us probably 45 weeks out of the year.
One of the major disappointments of my life is the utter collapse of TV wrestling the last few years. It's no longer a special thing you just can't stand to miss. It's disposable. I haven't quit watching due to the same reasons that some folks have ( including from what I read many older workers ) who don't want their kids to see adult themed stuff. I like adult oriented wrestling. I just hate any form of TV wrestling that SUCKS like it does today.
The bottom line is, I can't achieve a state of SUSPENSION OF REALITY watching what they program. That's like trying to copulate when yer DICK can't get hard anymore ( ask your Grandpa about that one ).
I'm not saying anything of course that plenty of internet wrestling scribes have not said before. The difference is, when the WHISKEY REBEL says he's bored with wrestling...it means more than when some little pimply prig with a p.c. whose never come within a yard of pussy since he dropped out of his Mommy's regurgitates something he read on a website.
Solutions? TNA? UFC? ROH? Your local promotion? Well, I dunno...that sounds logical but doesn't address the issue of what exactly it IS that WE want from professional wrestling.
The fact is, the audience that has turned away from the boom of the 90's did so for a variety of reasons. Like I intimated before, plenty of former fans don't like the sleezy nature of Vince's programs. As a hedonist and a very bad, immoral man, I don't agree with that point of view. We're in agreement though in that I don't like the product any better than them. I've had a bellyfull of it for other reasons.
I'm not wild about 100% kiddie style mid 80's WWF stuff...I HATED it. There was very little of interest there for an adult. The wrestling I grew up on often involved wrestlers popular with the kiddies, but it was just one aspect of the show. Top drawer heels frequently dominated promotions everywhere.
Traditional professional wrestling programming often was open to pop culture influences, but never totally dominated by it; that's one of the big problems with the lame WWE. The entire production is saturated in boring, repetitive music entrance themes and routines. It's nothing special anymore and I doubt if many of the few fans that are left are particularly inspired by hearing John Cena's theme for the 186th time...THEN AGAIN, maybe that's where the problem lies? Maybe those folks are a huge share of the pittance of fans who are left?
TNA with its funny shaped ring hasn't done much to shake things up. They employ every has-been and never was that Vince cuts loose. Stale former icons like Nash and Jarrett and Sting are pushed to the sky. How is that revolutionary? I call it: a "Total Non-stop WASTED opportunity" to what could be a great show.
ROH is great, what I've been able to see...but all those folks who worry about adult content would probably find parts of it offensive. Too bad. UFC is what it is..fine..it's NOT professional wrestling. Lucha Libre? it's really good when I'm in the mood for it...brilliant wrestlers in the ring abound..but it's a bit one dimensional and too "foreign" for the tastes of that great bulk of American former wrestling fans.
The box office success of "Hulkamania" destroyed everything in the same way that the Beatles destroyed the REAL rock and roll music scene. Vince will be looking for that next Chumpster until the end of his days just like the world of music has been dragged down for decades by fans and critics awaiting the "next Beatles". If the musicians the Beatles ran out of business had been able to continue, it would have been just as predictably a good thing as if the traditional country singers hadn't been replaced by Nashville's pop-country creations. The same thing applies to wrestling. This generations great wrestlers are out there somewhere, but are practically invisable held back by the push of pop-culture weenie crap like Cena. Many of them have fantastic skills in the ring, but a poor pop-culture aspect and are thus doomed as things are now.
ECW in it's prime managed to deal with the problem of acknowledging modern pop culture without allowing the wrestling to be subjugated to a minor role. It can be done.
I think that local and regional promotions who merely ape the big guys are spinning their wheels. If they want to really prosper they should wrack their brains looking for ways to become unique and self contained and entertaining rather than be shallow imitations of the guy who has nearly killed wrestling. That's of course if they want to be a WRESTLING promotion as opposed to more of the usual sports entertainment dreck.
I know I'm raising more questions than answering them here...hell, I'm frustrated and wish that wrestling hadn't been swept from my life. Saturday nights sure do seem empty, don't they?
01/01/07
A dozen hours now into 2007. I talked last night to Travis from HAMMERLOCK. It's not too late for some of you to head to Austin for our show with 'em on Friday 1/12/07 ( with Honky ). I understand some of my favorite Californians are coming out for the event. Don't miss it, unless you hacked yer ears off sometime over the holidays...in that case you're excused.
As for my year end summary?
2005 was one of the worst years of my life.. one death after another, depression,,,aagghh. I still haven't gotten over THAT shitty year even...and 2006 started out just as bad if not worse...for a few months it seemed like 2006 was going to finish me off.
I survived 10 days of stone deafness and the joys that come with trying to reverse it..such as FINALLY learning how to swallow pills on 5 minutes notice ( phobias are swept under the rug in a flash when you're health is REALLY fucked up ) so I could choke down 10-15 a day for awhile. A couple weeks later I had to learn how to eliminate sodium from my daily victuals to bring my high blood pressure down; it was either that or submit to my creepy ex-doctor for life-style advice and prescription medicines with side effects.
I bounced back and enjoyed live music once again months after the scare ( sporting ear protection of course ). Soon after, I battled a 3 time Women's world chess champion to a draw in an exhibition and in my next formal game defeated a very strong master from Germany helping me earn over the course of a 3 day extravaganza in Vegas a provisional rating of "expert" according to the world chess federation. Nothing is more satisfying to me than my chess accomplishments now. I'm completely fucking hooked on this hobby that mixes with my others like a cocktail of gravel with koolaid powder with a handful of 3 day old sardines.
I slowly crawled back trying to regain my legs after years of deadening them under a computer table so I could go back to college. I went from walking a few blocks to being able to walk a few miles now. I slaved away at my studies, made the deans list and wound up enjoying all the constant human contact at the University.
So, poor health...followed by a life long competitive intellectual accomplishment. Good year or bad..HHmm?
2006 was worse for some of my friends than 2005. Almost everybody I know had a really bad one between the two, though not everybody. Quite a few of our friends, relatives and in some cases enemies aren't coming back to give 2007 a shot.
Sitting here this afternoon the sun is streaming in the window, what a PERFECT day outside. Mid 60's...clear sky. It's all an illusion though. Elsewhere people are freezing their asses off..stuck in airports or snowbanks. In spite of giddy optimism 2007 might finish us all off. Enjoy what you can when you can. If you get knocked down, try to get back up. That's what we're stuck with. All the warm notions and happy prognosticating doesn't mean shit.
Still, we're here and alive. There's no sense staying down on the floor if you CAN get up. The key to happiness in life ( as revealed to me in a dream a few years back ) is figuring out how to IGNORE the bad things in life so you can enjoy the GOOD.
Don't be caught off guard, but don't carry around the deaths and sicknesses and maimings and depressions and pains of a bad period for TOO LONG. The ancient assholes who invented our calendar may or may not have intended to imply that we start afresh with a clean slate at the beginning of a year. It's not a bad idea to try to leave your heavy baggage at the portal to the next year. You've probably mourned your loved one LONG ENOUGH. Spin the little game spinner and move your token forward the indicated number of spaces. Don't look back for several turns. As for those of you who have survived romantic breakups? I say, most of you should just say FUCK IT ALL and put that wicked broad or worthless man out of your life rather than keep wallowing in the pain. Don't contaminate another year with the memory of that mistake. Time is precious. Shrug 'em off with your New Years Day hangover bowel movement. As for me, I've kept jabbering about my illnesses of last year long enough. Time for new thoughts. It's all excess baggage now. It's time we pat ourselves on the back over the good, brave, noble or generous things we did last fucking year one final time and prepare to BREAK CAMP.
In cornclusion, it's probably a bit silly and artificial to pretend that a new calendar page really means we're starting fresh...but SO WHAT? If you can use our humanoid society's notion of a CLEAN SLATE to actually drop that psychic bundle you've been packing around that's a good thing.
I start a NEW batch of classes in a couple weeks. I have another semester of German to sweat, another political science class to cruise through, a couple fun sounding History courses that will require lots of effort but be rewarding and the wild card of 'em all, a fucking Freshman level required SPEECH class. This one deserves discussion.
Now, I was pre-disposed towards loathing this speech class; imagine my surprise to learn that my oldest pal ( in rank ) Mike McNally out in Boregon ( yeah, isn't it odd we're both in college at the same time in our 40's? ) is also registered for virtually the same speech class but is looking forward to it? I don't take lightly his interest in things. This is the guy who when we we 16 or so helped steer me away from my childish obsession with the Beatles towards rockabilly, 50's R&B and REAL rock and roll. If he told me a Kate Smith look-alike contest was worth catching, I'd try to based on his record.
OK, so I have to give a couple brief speeches..SO WHAT. If I get to then sit back and watch a bunch of nervous, self conscious students do their little spiels about stupid shit that's on their minds it might be a real hoot.
I got a brand new practice chess set to study on. The old one with beer stains on the board is fine, but why not start the year with a fresh, subtle outlook?
I just proof read yesterday the new bonus chapter for the new printing of JOBJUMPER coming up. I approached it with some NEW editorial process ideas and a NEW way of dealing with some technical aspects of it all.
I vow to write some new songs...more than I have in years. If I break this pledge I hereby summon down Kate Smith's eternal omnipresent flatulence upon my nostrils.
It's time to learn some new recipes. There are limitless ways to work with chicken and I use maybe 3. It's time to cook and eat more shrimp and fish. I've been lazy and vow to be more daring in the kitchen.
I'm tempted to get back into the habit of writing REAL letters to folks, starting with a handful of those who've apparently decided to switch back to this method of communication.
I've got to quit talking about the greatness of local indy wrestling groups and get my procrastinating ass out to the smelly little arena's. I've fallen into the same habit of lots of other people of complacent bitching about TV wrestling. It's time to look at things fresh.
It's time to sign off and take my own personal FIRST SHIT of the new year; what will it offer? More routine crap if I perceive it as such...but a cleansing, bold new start if I allow it to be. UURRPP.
1228/06
A couple months back I did a search of motel & hotel rates in various parts of the South during the days after X-mas. We almost booked a room up in Memphis; we ( Marla and I of course ) wound up with a shorter drive and a more dependable climate in a place we'd never even consider visiting much of the year: South Padre Island.
Yeah, a Spring break "destination" spot. We wound up with a really cheap rate on a room at a Raddison hotel I'd ordinarily never consider staying at. We made the 5 hour drive on X-mas morning and arrived just after dark. Holy shit...our room was great. We had a sleep number bed ( I'm a 4.5 ) a handy built in wet-bar area and a view overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.
It was windy as fuck though that night, so we wound up after a short walk looking for X-mas dinner food. Most places were closed, but a cruise down the main street lead us to a sports bar called Tom and Jerry's that obvious locals were chowing and drinking at. I tried to order a pitcher of Bud, but was told that they were out of it...so I ordered up a huge pitcher of Miller High Life.
I intentionally ate normally on this trip as opposed to trying to eat low sodium stuff like back at home. My first full blown sodium meal was a double patty-melt that was good. Just like when I first experimented with drugs in the 70's I leaned back and waited for funny effects to kick in eating the normal doses of sodium normal people are used to. The whole trip was like that.
After eating and drinking we headed back to the hotel where Marla passed out early and I drank for a couple hours waiting for strange drug like "high" effects from the salt dose.
Of course as usual Marla got up really early the next morning and walked down to the beach after a brisk breakfast and all. I slept until I was awoken by a horrible screeching of birds that sounded close...VERY close...TOO close.
SON OF A BITCH! The goddamned do-gooder animal lover neighbors had attracted a huge horde of sea gulls to their balcony ajoining ours by feeding them bread. This was the first of a series of BAD experiences involving these dumb fucks whom we eventually surmised are rubes from Kansas. HEY YOU STUPID DICKBRAINS! When sea gulls eat they SHIT and screech for more!! Of course you assholes have never seen sea gulls, so you aren't aware of that. How thoughtfull of you to subject your fellow guests to all that. I've got a big sea gull swinging between my legs to FUCK YER MOTHER IN HER SEVERED NECK HOLE WITH you pea brained mid-west imbeciles!
These clods walked around the premises grinning and greeting everybody they saw the whole time we were there. What devout fools! The elder male Kansas fool was sporting a Toby Keith T-shirt I wanted to rip off his noodle like fish-belly white torso and choke him out with.
Of course I was too much a gentleman ( as usual ) to do that.
I hate grinning simpletons more than ever now.
We walked a few miles up and down the beach and ate at a Mexican restaurant that's been around since 1945 ( after a brief visit to the absolute WORST fucking record store EVER ) that had food that catered to lily white folks who can't handle peppers ( like bloody shit spewing me ) but tastes good anyway. We walked more, drank a few rounds after sunset and ended up at the local bar portion of a big dance hall sort of restaurant/sports bar that likely serves 1,000 frat idiots at a time during spring break. I talked to some locals. They didn't seem much like Texan's, but were amiable. South Padre Island isn't a very Texas like place at all in fact.
I surmised that the biggest problem I had with the hotel and the island was that it's just too fucking WHITE BREAD for me. Too SAFE for a man who lived by choice in places like Hollywood Ca. and Philly of course.
It was just about this point in the trip that I called Elvis back in San Marcos and learned that not only had Gerry Ford passed away ( hey...he was 93...yawn..), we had more importantly lost thee Godfather himself...James Brown.
It seems to sum up what I didn't like about the lily white atmosphere on South Padre..that we could spend 3 hours in a damned bar where at least 5 TV channels were beaming sports contests and other crap that nobody seemed to even notice his passing.
I can't imagine being in a bar in most places I've lived where people weren't talking about the passing of a giant like Mr. Brown. I've owned for many years a 4 CD box set of his music and of course a pile of 2nd hand scratchy vinyl. My favorite songs of his include: "licking stick", "Mother popcorn", "it's a man's world" ( a magnificent blast of chords and melancholy mood ) "King Heroin" "Don't be a dropout" ( what a great melodic hook ) "cold sweat" and of course "get up ( I feel like being a ) sex machine". Hey, "I've got ants in my pants and I wanna dance"...don't you?
Damned few musicians of any genre ever have been more consistently good. I never got to see him play live though...we were always too poor to afford tickets when he came to town. Shit.
The bass man and drummer on the tunes on the box set ( I'm not actually sure of their names..or even if it was a rotating cast of players ) are as kick ass as any rhythm section blasting out any style of music I've ever heard...PERIOD.
James Brown was the Hank Williams Sr. of funk. Clearly, no doubt...head and shoulders beyond everybody else although there've been plenty of other greats.
I drank to the man upon hearing of his passing and I still have a lump in my throat I'll try to drink away again now.......
To hell with my travelogue.......
12/25/06
HEY....here's another column printed in AMP this year..I'm finishing off the last pages of my additional shit for the 2nd printing of JOBJUMPER..and thus am too fucking busy and drained to jabber here about the holidays...it's on a popular theme I don't get into much here, and you might chuckle....UURRP.
"OBLIVIOUS DOG OWNERS CAN KISS MY ASS!"
I was gonna write this month about some fun bars I've been to and keep things nice and "light". I got a couple pages into it even. But, my wife spoiled the jolly pleasant column by coming home with a fascinating new example of humanoid behavior that amazed me.
It seems that there's quite a few pet owners in our area who literally take their pets with them EVERYWHERE they go. I'm not talking about legit homeless folks or "pretend" psuedo-homeless kids who are slumming it for a summer. These people are employed mainstream individuals with money and productive lives.
Besides taking their pets to the park or on a walk or a ride in the car this brash new breed of pet owner is taking their animals into fucking restaurants and retail stores. I'm not talking about rich bitches toting around their yapping, supposedly fashionable little weinerdogs. I'm talking pit bulls, dobermans, labs and even great Danes! HOLY SHIT! I worked in retail on and off over the years for a total of a decade. I can't remember seeing very damned many dogs brought into the stores I worked at.
My most recent retail job was at Tower records on trendy South street in Philly for a couple years in the 90's. You'd see people walking around with snakes and exotic lizards. It was clearly a trendy 90's way of getting attention..an alternative to shoulder totin' a boom box. As a supervisor often in charge of the entire store I had to notify our security people when I saw people packing snakes around inside the store. WHY? Did I hate animals? Did Tower records management in Sacramento ( a dope smoking bunch of grownup hippies I heard) hate animals?
Of course not. We had to protect the store against lawsuits and consider the fact that for every snake and lizard owner we might piss off by telling them to take their pet out of our store there were probably at least a dozen customers who would be freaked out by them. I might add our store had to deal with a huge shoplifting problem. A huge snake could serve as a distraction to our loss prevention guys and our clerks.
My wife has never seen anybody take a snake or gila monster or ferret into the home improvement chain store she's an assistant manager at. She's seen a steady stream of dogs and not just the nice quiet well trained ones that help blind customers. Nope. She's been treated to the sights and sounds of mean looking AGGRESSIVE DOGS, BARKING DOGS, PISSING DOGS...even SHITTING DOGS. "DOGS GONE WILD" or rather "DOG OWNERS GONE OBLIVIOUS".
When she first told me about this phenoma I chalked it up to being a case of "Texas" ways. I'm not sure of course. Do people drag their goddamned dogs into hardware or grocery stores in your neck of the woods?
I wanna know. If so, do they have the audacity to drag them into GODDAMNED RESTAURANTS like they do here in the lovely Texas hill country? Is it a "Texas thing" a "Southern" thing a "hippie" thing or a "trendy" 21st century thing?
My son Elvis is one of the managers at a diner here in town. He was shocked when he first went to work at the place to see customers bringing their DOGS into the restaurant and getting annoyed and defensive and "in-yer-face" when management told them that health laws obviously prohibit dogs from places where people eat and drink and pay good money to do so.
Personally, if I was in a restaurant and somebody brought a quiet dog into the establishment that didn't make any noise or growl at low volume or run around in circles looking for a place to piss or beg for food or do anything to call my attention to their presence I wouldn't care.
We all know ( even those of you who are pet owners who already are furious at me this early in the column ) that dogs do all of these things. Seriously, if you want ME to be open minded on this subject..be open minded yourself for a moment. Aren't you aware that a lot of people are afraid of dogs? Aren't you aware that a lot of people think that dogs and their fecal matter and urine and dog snot and slobber don't belong where food is being served? So you insist you have rights...WHERE do these folks rights end and yours begin? HHmmm?
I'm very, very aware of the fact that some very close friends of mine who are dog lovers are going to hate me for pointing this out, but the truth is..LOT'S OF PEOPLE whom you both know and don't know don't think it's "cute" when your dog yaps or looks menacing or hoists its fucking leg to piss or humps somebody's leg until it's pink dog boner is waggling around in front of people trying to eat fried chicken or maybe shop for cabinet hardware.
As a supervisor in charge of the restaurant, Elvis was eventually told that even though pets aren't allowed actually in the establishment it was OK to offer to seat the pet owner and their dog in an outside area with tables adjacent to a fence that the dog could be directed (hopefully) to sit on the other side of.
That seems like a nice concession to pet owners to me; of course..he found that these dog people didn't see it as a good thing at all. They didn't want to hear about health laws or consider the wishes and sensitivities of other patrons. They wanted IT ALL. EVERYTHING their way. DOG OWNERS WITH ATTITUDES. DOG OWNERS GONE WILD.
Let's pause for a moment. I've undoubtedly pissed many of you dog lovers off. That's not my intention. I can think of 3 close friends off the top of my head who love their dogs and like to take them everywhere..just like people who love their kids and take THEM everywhere.
Hey...before you crucify me..or accuse me of being a "dog hater" or fascist scum or control freak..how do like it when you're confronted with a screaming out of control baby on an airplane?? HHMM? I can't help but notice that many of the dog lovers I know HATE kids and get pissed off when they run around in public places making racket and tripping people and bringing stress to the room.
Seeing eye dogs are well trained and seem to never go out of control. They don't bother me at all anywhere. Unfortunately the same can't be said for quite a few precious pooches. I don't hate kids when they are well behaved and don't overlap into my personal space by acting like goddamned asshole picking chaotic fucking monkeys swinging from the frigging chandeliers.
HEY! What do we do about kids who pick on dogs in public places..or dogs who bite kids? Or for that matter parents whose kids have been bitten who kick the dogs bloody head in?
Unfortunately, the well intended re-assurance of a conscientious dog owner that their pet "doesn't bite" is meaningless due to both the fact that some sneaky dog owners DELIBERATELY lie about their dogs violent capabilities and the fact that they really don't know WHAT their dog is going to do..how it will react if another dog enters the restaurant for instance.
A little bit of research on the net just turned up an ironic anecdote concerning a restaurant owner in Japan who used to permit dogs in his establishment:
"Aiyama, who manages the "HXM" restaurant in the city, stopped admitting dogs except for on the eatery's terrace last November when he was bitten by a dog. The dog's owner was absorbed in talking to her friends and oblivious to her pet's continuous barking. He sought her cooperation in keeping the dog quiet but failed to gain her understanding. The incident occurred at a time when his restaurant was becoming popular as a place where visitors could bring their dogs and enjoy French cuisine. "I saw more and more inconsiderate behaviour as the number of visitors to the restaurant increased," Aiyama said. "I began to worry about accidents."
FACT: Lots of pet owners are just as oblivious to the noise and stress and excrement created by their animals as a significant number of parents.
NOTE! I didn't use the word "all" in reference to either pet owners or parents. Just like parents who let their kids run amok in public places often don't think of themselves as "bad parents" or their kids as noisy little brats. I personally consider these half-wits to be on a mental par with folks who unconsciously walk around with boogers hanging out of their noses or their fat butt cracks poking up over their drawers when they squat down. The ignorance and stupidity of humanoids has me on edge when I'm in public. When morons are accompanied by children and pets it's a recipe for miserable chaos.
Let's get back to my wife and her job at the home improvement center. As a manager it's her job to enforce store rules. The policy is to try to "ignore" dogs brought into the store until they cause a disturbance or offend another customer. This unfortunately happens all the time. They often bark like mad while the owner ignores the racket casually browsing or chatting with a clerk. And YES...it's true! They sometimes take a big dump right in the middle of the salesfloor in spite of the fact that so many dog people claim they never would. I asked her who cleans up the mess when this happens. She said she's NEVER once seen a dog owner clean it's pets poop up.
Still, in spite of all this the store policy is to pretend the dog isn't there until after an accident. She's brought up this tolerant pet policy at management meetings and has been shot down convincingly by a majority of managers who "love dogs". Lots of them evidently bring their own mutts into the store on their off time. She deals with the situation the best she can well aware of the fact that she's outnumbered and outranked. She tries to ignore dogs until they create a real stir. Then, she asks the "master" to take the critter out of the store.
Recently, an off duty employee brought his pit bull into the store on his day off. As he chatted with fellow employees the dog began barking non-stop and snarling like mad. A lot of customers obviously are terrified of infuriated pit bulls. Isn't this obvious? Shouldn't the employee be able to fathom this? She told him nicely that he'd have to take his dog out of the store..and he was offended and argumentative.
"Other people bring their dogs in" he asserted indignantly as the poor beast strained so hard at his leash that he could barely hold him back.
Yes my canine loving friend. And "other people" are asked to remove their barking, upset dogs from the store when they make enough racket to piss off other customers. PISSING DOGS..SHITTING DOGS..SNARLING DOGS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. DOG OWNERS GONE WILD!
Did you know? In New York State a law was passed allowing dogs who are certified as "emotional support" animals to be permitted into restaurants that have been required by law over the years to exclude them. The NY Times story I read quoted a representative from a firm that tutors "service animals" for the blind as saying that the law was being abused by teenage scofflaws without any history of depression or anxiety seeking "certification" for their dogs. She said "this isn't cute and is an insult to the entire disabled community. They are ruining it for people who need it".
I've read on-line about canine "organic brunches" at special dog friendly restaurants, ski resorts that cater to people with dogs, designer apparel for dogs. This is all just wonderful. I'm in favor of businesses who specially designate facilities and services for dogs. The customers who patronize these places know what they're getting into. I don't hate dogs. When I see them tied to a parking meter in front of a restaurant yapping or stressing out or baring their fangs at people passing by I wonder just who could be crueler to that dog than it's owner who allows this.
Similar thoughts pass through my large noggin' when I hear kids squalling in a movie theater without end or see kids who are obviously bored as hell bellowing and shrieking and flailing about in some cramped restaurant booth as their parents obliviously schmooze with one another and slowly sip coffee as if nothings wrong.
Even though I owned a dog when I was a kid I'm not a "dog person" and will admit that I'm not in tune with the dog culture several friends are immersed in. I appreciate the fact that they are often surrogate children to the childless in effect if not openly stated. People who get dogs as some sort of fashion statement and then lose interest are prime assholes in my book. People who are lazy about keeping their dogs from roaming urban streets are peckerheads who deserve to have their teeth knocked down their fucking throats if the dog bites or terrorizes people. If I don't like a friends dog ( a rare happening ) I won't visit their home. I won't make a big deal about it...I probably won't say anything. It's THEIR HOME..not mine.
Retail stores and restaurants are neutral ground though. If I shop or eat or drink there my opinion counts. Maybe the next time I get irritated at a yapping dog or annoying brat I oughta go blow a nice nasal discharge into the middle of the table the owner / parent is seated at? Do you think that would get their attention? Maybe I should work a good fart up and waddle over to their table, stick my big ass in their face and let er rip! Maybe I could start screeching at the parent as loud as their kid or..well, you get my drift. Maybe I could discretely follow one of these oblivious dog people home and get their address and sick the local SPCA on 'em to check out whether or not they're caring for their animal properly.
I've probably mellowed a good deal over the years, but if you get me pissed off in public I'm capable of retaliating in kind any way I can. I don't believe in tough talk or empty threats; I prefer calculated, LOUD, BIZARRE BEHAVIOR. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. I've been doing it on stage for many years and have had a lot of practice. See you down at the pancake house! YYEEEEEEEEEEEEE HAAAWWWWW. UURRPPP. BRRAPPPPPP. Thee Whiskey Rebel: whskyreb@centurytel.net P.O.Box 1781 San Marcos, Tx. 78666
12/21/06
I ran into this column on-line that I wrote for AMP early in the year. I figured that since it really tickled my ass it'd possibly get yours twitching too. Remember, it was written 8 months ago and was inspired by hot stories and opinions expressed in the media at the time and therefore should sound a tad bit dated in that sense, although the wisdom is so timeless I'm amazed I wrote it when I was stone deaf and gulping handfuls of steroid pills. Feel free to share it this holiday season with any holy Joe's or Mommy's little jihadists you break bread with:
"BEHEAD THOSE WHO INSULT BARNEY!!!!"
"Man will never be free until the last king is strangled with the entrails of the last priest.." Denis Diderot
"Isn't killing people in the name of god a pretty good definition of insanity?" Arthur C. Clarke
"The most heinous and the most cruel crimes of which history has record have been committed under the cover of religion or equally noble virtues" Mahatma Gandhi
Yeah, yeah, yeah...I write quite a bit about christians in my columns don't I? There's a reason for that in case you're a new reader. My childhood was a miserable mess due to the fact that I was raised up by an extended family of extreme bible thumping zealots who forbade me to do so many "worldly" things normal kids do like go to movies or play cards or dance that I'm still a bit pissed off.
One things for damn sure...there's no way in hell I would've been allowed to have a magazine like AMP in my possession. Rock music was right at the top of the list of what our redfaced, hotheaded, fire and brimstone preacher ranted against.
They never did manage to drag me down to the alter to be "saved". I was the hardest nut to crack any of them ever saw in their lifetimes. I've gone on to be some sort of warped eternal adolescent...writing wicked things in these pages and playing evil live music at an age many years past which I should haved morphed into Ward Cleaver.
I've taken my "negative" attitude to enough periodicals over the years that I know I'm much further gone than the local village atheist in your town. In fact, you might say that I'm a sort of lower minor league social leper along the lines of (but of course nowhere near as talented or known or as reviled as) superstar misanthrope iconoclasts such as long dead old-timers like Ambrose Bierce, H.L. Mencken and Sam Clemens.
Those are all big boys..and I'm damned well aware of my place as a small fry. Unfortunately there aren't very many cynical gadfly's writing columns for music mags these days. Most of my peers cover either music straight up or politics.
The worlds former most hated atheist Madalyn Murray O'Hair is dead and gone and nobody's replaced her. Good old Anton LaVey is gone too. These greats are on my mind lately as I watch on my TV this years most extreme religious zealots burning embassies, flags and uttering barbaric death threats supposedly in response to some cartoon images of their holy prophet printed in European magazines.
Perhaps they're all gathered around a v.i.p. table down in hell sucking down cocktails and chortling about the cataclysm caused around the globe lately by the sanctimonious, vituperative, Islamic holy flock.
First let me quickly point out...there's nothing new about one of the world faiths going on a rampage in the name of god. The christians have sure as hell raised their share of evangelical mayhem over the centuries. Right now, it's clearly the jihadists who have the world in turmoil.
"All national institutions of churches whether Jewish, Christian or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions set up to terrify and enslave mankind and monopolize power and profit"..Thomas Paine
"Religion is regarded by the common people as true, the wise as false and by rulers as useful" Lucius Annaeus Seneca (a Roman philosopher).
"we have just enough religion to make us hate but not enough religion to make us love one another" Jonathan Swift
There's trouble in the air around the globe that goes well beyond pointing partisan fingers of blame at American foreign policy over the years, Bush, Israel, etc. etc. etc. The Islamic masses have been prodded into a state of hysteria by radical clergymen. What you see on CNN isn't merely a few acolytes hamming it up for the cameras. These people are as rabid about their religion as the Jonestown koolaid clan or the Nazi's at Nurenburg or Christians in America attacking abortion clinics; they're so convinced of their "righteousness" they don't care who gets taken out by their suicide bombers or beheading crews. You are either with them and following their faiths dictates or you're against them. The crew in charge in Iran is apparently willing to help kickoff the apocalypse as it's a step towards an ultimate spiritual reward.
Of course what's really sick and disappointing about this over zealousness is the fact that like any other world religion...the practitioners CAN'T PROVE A GODDAMNED THING about the correctness of their religion. It's all a matter taken on FAITH. You may as well be worshipping Barney or Santa Claus or Zeuss and his Mt. Olympus pals....there's no more or less PROOF at hand.
If you think I'm just some dumbass shooting off my mouth, I'd like to remind you how many great minds from many backgrounds over the centuries agree with me...hence my selection of quotations for your enlightenment. If I'm off base, I've got plenty of company from a mixed bag of minds.
"Religion: a Daughter of hope and fear, explaining to ignorance the nature of the unknowable" Ambrose Bierce
"it's an incredible con job when you think of it, to believe something now in exchange for life after death" Gloria Steinam
"all religions bear traces of the fact that they arose during the intellectual immaturity of the human race" Freidich Nietzsche
"Our beliefs, like the fashion of our garments depend on where we were born" Robert Ingersoll
"the idea of god is the sole wrong for which I cannot forgive mankind.." Marquis De Sade
So, in reaction (so it's said) to the infamous cartoon image of the prophet printed in Denmark and followup printings of that and other cartoons we have mobs as of the time I'm writing this running wild to assault Europeans over much of the globe. I doubt much will be solved or changed in the period of time it takes for this to be published.
Pres. Bush (yes, I agree..a mild religious zealot himself) has waffled on whether or not freedom of the press is more important than "riling up all these damned Muslims". Many Presidents of the past have been quite clear as far as the mixed blessings of religion. I quote but two along with a great founding Father..although I could give you a half dozen brazen and outspoken examples where U.S. Presidents weren't fans of the church.
"Religions are all alike..founded upon fables and mythologies"
Thomas Jefferson
"Religious bondage shackles and debilitates the mind and unfits it for every noble enterprise" James Madison
"When religious people quarrel about religion or hungry people quarrel about victuals, it looks as if they had not much of either among them"
Benjamin Franklin
The nations of Europe as of today are discussing some sort of "code" for publications; reminds me of the old comic book code of the McCarthy 50's.
The slippery slope is this: if the "free" world is bullied into kowtowing to Islamic violence and rage into giving up freedom of the press and freedom of expression...it's only natural that the christians in this country and others will be expecting the right to lord it over all of us freaks further than they already have by taking away our right to expressing ourselves at their fantasy world hokum.
Why wouldn't they?? This could wind up being an unexpected windfall for the prudes. I'm terrified. I've been blaspheming for many, many years. My bands have used images such as a direct blaspheme of the last supper and a beautiful Winston Smith piece known as "the lord chastizeth the drunk"in which Jesus is lampooned.
One of my catch phrases is "I wipe my ass with bible pages" and I even aped that old hymn "onward christian soldiers" in a guitar solo in a song.
If images of yee olde prophet of the Muslim faith are agreed upon as insensitive and unacceptable by the world...it will only be a matter of time before they start shutting down us insensitive mockers of the christian religion. Bush knows this...that's why he's waffled so far in his response to this situation. He's got to have received phone calls from some of his religious right connections discussing how this could all work in the end after all if we can get past the apocalyptic threats.
Somebody's got to speak up about it; Sam Clemens and Anton Lavey are gone...there's got to be some cynics and doubters and basic freedom of speech advocates with balls out there...but I don't see them. WHO WILL STAND with thee WHISKEY REBEL and flip all these holy nutjob wackos the double bird???
"If there is a god, he is a malign thug" Sam Clemens
"Religion is all bunk" Thomas Edison
"I don't believe in god as I don't believe in Mother Goose"
Clarence Darrow
"All thinking men are atheists" Ernest Hemingway
"Religions vary in their degree of idiocy, but I reject them all"
Gene Roddenberry
"doubt everything, find your own light" Buddha (last words).
Thee Whiskey Rebel: whskyreb@centurytel.net P.O.Box 1781 San Marcos, Tx 78666
12/18/06
Well, I'm fucking relieved....my grades popped up on the computer screen and ( drum roll ) I got 4 fucking's A's and a B in German. Yee haw.
I made the goddamned DEAN'S LIST...it said so right there on the screen. I'm not sure of all the rewards associated with that are, I only know it's not for pinks and MOLLYCODDLES..the likes of whom were partying it up and having fun all those nights I was burning the midnight oil in scholarly devotion.
Now is the time to party...as a proven, sage SCHOLAR. An udeniable massive intellectual force descended upon South Texas....UURRRPpppppppp
ppppppppppppPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
PPPppppppppppppppppp...uh.
SHIT...I'll have to have new business cards printed up to include "Dean's list" scholar. WHO will be the first to congratulate me????
12/14/06
Local yope imbecility on parade.
At about 11:00 a.m. whilst trying to sleep a good long time ( I'm trying to lower my blood pressure rate since it was nudged up during finals week ) I heard the door bell repeatedly rang. I actually got out of bed...but being seasoned to the local ways and customs I realized it must be just a dopey hippie user of the glorified frisbee "disc" course across the road wanting to ask permission to search for his hippie frisbee like thingee in our backyard ( they're always flying over our backyard fence..our yard is huge ). I opened our bedroom door and peered out..Dixie the cat was sort of on the job; he gave me a look that I read as "what the fuck..why are you bothering to get up?". I agreed and hopped back in the sack.
When I got up many hours later I opened the front door in the interest of picking up the mail and saw a note written on blue paper laying on the concrete. Some guy name Lewis had lobbed his "disc" into our back yard and wanted us to call him at a number he provided.
You've got to be fucking kidding me???
I audibly laughed and paged Marla to tell her about the note and the fellows chutzpuh.
She got a good chuckle out of it and noted that it must be the 3rd disc at least sitting back there in our yard and that they'll eventually be added to the collection of several more in our garage. This is the first time some goon has actually had the stones to suggest we expend our free time to call him on the telephone.
Next time I won't be tricked out of the sack at all. I consider it to be a sign of weakness that I was. It's never been a good thing any time I've ever answered a knock on my door in this town. Friends have all been cautioned to call first...unless it's an emergency...a major one. Package delivery's are simply plopped in front of your door in this nice low crime burg. It's not the time of year for politicians to be out pumping hands. We get a few clowns per year out trying to hustle up yard work.....the answer has always been NO!
There's no reason to get out of bed based on these percentages. Dixie my satanic, twisted feline knew that...if I hadn't been mentally hobbled by academic pressures I wouldn't have even given it a second thought.
That's why I've got to toughen up back to normal. Well, at least I got some good yuks out of it. I couldn't survive in a neighborhood where you actually need to answer your door.
12/12/06
GREAT ACADEMIC ACHEIVMENTS MEAN LITTLE UNLESS THEY ARE SANCITIFIED IN A WASH OF ALCOHOL.
I finally took my last final today. It was for my country music history class. I studied until 3:00 a.m. at the "open all night" library and eventually declared THAT'S FUCKING ENOUGH. If I was going to be tripped up by the final it would be on an unforseen trivia question. I went home, drank and slept and hardly looked at my notes or text book before todays 3:00 examination. I DID play some good solid hard country CD's by the likes of Hank Sr., the Maddox Brothers & Rose ( one of the great bands that's relatively unknown ) Ernest Tubb and Carl Smith ( June Carter's 1st hubbie before Johnny ).
I kicked assed on the final, I just know it. I went home and planned a night out at the bar, but had a bellyache. I think I was going the friggin' bends...it's a strange adjustment to have suddenly NO deadlines or obligations.
Tomorrow I'll pick up the slack by confirming myself to chess study which I've neglected over the last few months....and on a less devoutly academic note perhaps become the Rasta-Rebel a few times over the next month. It's time to get fucked up. I may well make the dean's list...I don't know yet...and I don't even know the fellers name. It'll look good on paper. I DO KNOW THIS. I'd be a geek to sweat something like that. I did my best, it's time to relax and get hammered for a month and bring my blood pressure down.
I didn't go out. Elvis came by and we had a couple drinks. Good to see him. His stories from work are good these days. It sounds like he works with a hard drinking and hard smoking crew...much more fun than at the diner he used to work at. He knows how to carve pricey steaks from a block of meat like a real chef now. Maybe he can get me on as a dishwasher some day; the other guys all get loaded daily and have been there forever. Shades of Todd Goss!
I'm going to back away from this device now. I want to get good and shitfaced..guilt free. I'm already close to that goal. I have a "Green Acres" marathon VHS tape ready for amusement. I don't need this computer or any of you right now to acheive my goal to meet the dawn HAMMERED and unrepentant.
12/09/06
I've got several things on my mind. First off, henceforth until further notice when I refer to Joey in this diary in a local sense that means Joey from California...yeah...FROM California. Isn't that great? People just keep a movin' here. He's rented an apartment up in Austin. If you want to know anything more about him, find him yourself and ask.
Marla and I went the local San Marcos Triple Crown bar for a Dual Exhaust show last night. It was a bit eerie to have Joey there..not in any bad way of course. I tried to pull his coat as to some of the goofball locals, but I didn't need to. He had experienced what I meant before I got there. There are a lot of good decent people here, including many of the folks who play in bands; some of the people who show up at local venues are, uhh.....fucking screwballs. Like the guy who was some sort of mod ( I think...I'm only guessing) who I encountered at the same bar about 4 years ago who thought the people I represent ( I still don't know whom he meant ) and his people were enemies so we may as well just have it out. I didn't walk away...but I thought he was nuts. You fight better when you know why in the fuck you're fighting in the first place I figure. He never got aggressive that night at all. When he talked big he sounded like he was on some sort of goofy pills. He wound up at a party the guys from the Bulemics wound up at. It was held at the house of an ex-drummer of theirs who lives here. Nobody had any idea why in the fuck this guy was there or whom invited him, but everybody just sort of tolerated him figuring he must be SOMEBODY'S friend. Eventually, he was given the heave-ho and we wound up drinking moonshine. A good night in the South.
I predicted before we left the house we'd encounter a flaky, loony, goofball at the Triple Crown. I advised the often easily irked Marla to take a valium or something along those lines. She agreed it could happen, and it did. Oddly enough it's ME who is the hot head in most situations. When we're out socially I'm more easy going...probably because I drink myself into that state. I get happier the longer the evening runs. I'm a jolly drunk.
She's the designated driver and makes a point of being loaded a bit when she gets there and lets it burn off while we're out. See? She's the perfect match for me.
Anyway, we encountered the pain in the ass button-holer when we got to the club and went outside onto the deck to drink a couple rounds. He was the kind of eternal PEST Bukowski wrote about who just wouldn't go away. He couldn't catch on to the fact that we were having PERSONAL conversations with old friends and kept interupting our attempts at dialogue with his blather. And, it was dull D-R-I-V-E-L.
Hey, when you seem DRUNK AND REPETITIVE to a table full of people out drinking, man you are full of HOGWASH as my old man used to say. A loser.
People got up one by one from the table to get away from him leaving me stuck tryng to be diplomatic with him and trying to get him to decide not to like me. I told him I HATE Emerson Lake & Palmer...who he loves. It didn't phase him. I told him Bob Dylan and Tom Petty both DESTROYED rock and roll in their own fashions...he shrugged it off. He kept referring to having earned 3 academic degrees at Texas State...I took him at his word, now I see that should have been a tip-off there would be no dealing with this guy.
Marla and several other people criticized me for putting up with the guy for as long as I did; my defense is, he's not that much worse...REALLY...and don't take this personally if you're a local...he's not THAT much worse than plenty of jabbering, blarney spewing clowns living here who've been introduced to me as being friends of folks I know and like.
As Thee Whiskey Rebel I always get more baloney barking drunks coming at me than anybody else in my band when we play. Out of habit I'm tolerant, hoping they buy merchandise.
No, we weren't playing this night; this sort seems to seek me out anyway. I'm not trying to act like abig-shot. Over the years I've stood alongside Jeff Clayton many times and noticed he attracts 5 times as many nebish loser's. When we played recently with the Melvin's I notice that a literal horde of these hot air babblers were drawn to poor Buzz. He doesn't enjoy them, but he's worked out a way of dealing with them that's admirable. Hey, they buy tickets, don't they?
And this particular loser was sporting a Dual Exhaust cap....don't blame me for cutting this guy some slack. I wasn't sure whether he was somebody's friend or not. Especially since he started jabbering about being a friend of my pal Todd from Hognose who was also present.
No, I don't think I was all that "nice" to this clown.
We all went inside and watched Dual Exhaust play a fine show.
Then back outside as a twin vocal metal band played ( and cleared the joint out ).
The human wart attached himself to our table once again. I started getting annoyed. I couldn't even talk to some folks I wanted to talk to. FUCK. I started saying the most offensive things I could looking him in the eye.
He revealed his hand when he suggested we go in on some sort of quantity of alcohol from the grocery store for later. I cut him off quickly...and ignored him and his mind-rape bunk from that point on. He finally left the table.
Some folks we just met that night then asked if he was a friend of ours. They had been pissed off at the guys crap but didn't want to offend us if he was somebody's friend.
Soon we all realized he was NOBODY'S friend; Mark didn't know him from Adam..but was sick of his shit. This is how lots of this type ingratiate themselves into a circle of acquantances.
Marla gave me shit for putting up with him for so long, but I say I handled it right. She's a flint-head in public, although cool and calm at home. Everybody was pissed off at the guy's nerve, but I still say it doesn't seem like that different a night out. I've met enough designated friends of people in too many places ( including of course San Marcos ) who seemed no less inane...I make no apologies.
On a different note, I've been studying for my country music history final tonight. I've played several cd's and records and read the liner notes to try to get names straight. It's a History course, NOT a music appreciation get together.
I tried to make sure I have all the Texas Playboy's ( great emphasis is upon them ) names straight by listening to Bob call their names out for solo's...."come on in Leon!" "MR. Al Stricklin"...yunno.
I realized that Will's & co. were brilliant if for no other reason than they took the best goddamned band name you could think up. The "Texas Playboys" indeed. Sounds like a good name for a wrestling aggregation...almost as cool as "devastation incorporated" or "the legion of DOOM".
Wouldn't it sound stupid to try to pass yourself off as the "Iowa Playboys"??? HHmmm?
12/06/06
Since classes ended and we have free days to prepare for impending finals, I find that I've
just been drifting about the house making poor use of time. I've been locked into a tight schedule for a few months with little room to breath and now that I have some I should be making better use of it.
Our cats get confused when we're all up for some strange reason just after dawn. It throws them off. They get up and dutifully stand nearby watching us probably wanting to ask us what the fucks going on. Isn't dawn the time to go to bed?
Well, things may be a bit different in your home...but you get my point. I haven't had a dog in a long time so I'm not sure what they'd do.
A few hours ago I played Tiger Woods PS2 golf, 54 holes and won a tournament. I still felt restless even though I'd had a few beers. I kept feeling an urge to play over a few chess games...but didn't want to tackle any of the books I'm currently working on, or work deeply. I had an urge to pull off the shelf a book about one of the worlds great tournaments "Zurich 1953" written in an irreverant, chatty sort of dialogue by one of my favorite all-time players David Bronstein.
I got the book and played over a few games. It's such a great book, it seemed fresh and new. Then, I went back to the PS2. After another round of golf at a different course I came here to this computer...logged on, checked a few of my favorite websites and found out the news: David Bronstein, my favorite living chess Grandmaster died earlier today ( well, yesterday).
Shit. He was well into his 80's...and lived a long life managing to live through the Soviet era even though his Father was hated ( he was indeed captured, imprisoned and sent to a gulag by them ) by the communist party officials and it's widely rumored David himself was pressured into deliberately losing a world championship match with Soviet uber-superman Grandmaster Mikhail Botvinnik.
What I really appreciated about Bronstein without getting technical is the fact that he was an eclectic, oddball genius who played strange openings and won with them. His writing style was very creative and almost eccentric at times.
I feel about David Bronstein about the same way many of you feel about Joe Montana or Magic Johnson or Arnold Palmer or Nolan Ryan. He was as strong in his field as they were in their's.
He was a tough son-of-a-bitch, not a mollycoddle. He buried most of his enemies. He was the best in the world in the early 1950's which happens to be my favorite era of music too.
Why in the hell was I driven to pull his best book off the shelf for the first time in a couple years hours before any of the websites reported his death?
It's too weird to dwell on...I've got 2 shots down the gullet in his name...here goes another......!?!? I wish I had vodka to do the job right for an old, tough Russian. I think I'll slap on Dick Dale's version of Hava Nagila as a special personal sendoff.......
12/03/06
A HOLIDAY TIP FROM THE IRWINS...
My lovely Wife Marla decorated our computer / work room with cheery Xmas lights today in 5 seconds flat. She entered the room...and looked around 1-2-3...then she bent over and 4-5 plugged the cord of lights still there from last year into the socket. Share this tip with your family and friends. It works swell for outdoor lights too.
YOUR PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED THIS HOLIDAY SEASON...
I'm proud to say that after a long period of having to turn away avid readers who want copies of my splendid first book JOBJUMPER, it's going to appear in print in a 2nd gala edition next Spring brought to you by the folks at Steel Cage. It's gonna have a new look and additional material up the yingyang to boot.
I'm as excited as a horse-dick swinging exhibitionist at one of those new airport X-ray units.
Personally, I have so few copies left that when I gave Elvis a copy to give to his lovely fiance I actually told him ( and I quote ): "Hey, if you two ever split up I have to get that back!"
Yeah, yeah...I'm not too proud of saying that, but I did.
For the hell of it I sat down today and read the first 100 pages or so of it for the first time in a good while. I've gone through such a bad couple of years in 2005-2006 that it's good to remind myself that I've survived other terrible phases of my life.
The eerie part for me about the book involves the fact that I didn't have a clue as to the true identity of my biological relatives when I wrote the portion about them. I guessed based on Sherlock Holmes style deductive reasoning assisted by notes a lady took at the adoption agency in 1957. I sent my Uncles and Aunts ( my Ma's siblings ) copies of the book after we got to know each other and they said I hit the nail right on the head, right down to my biological Father taking off and joining the Navy ( he became a high ranking officer ). When I first talked to him on the phone he explained the romance that produced me in words similar to what I used.
I thought when the book was first published that it would primarily find an audience amongst people who play in bands, since I'm a cult band legend and columnist for music mags. That didn't turn out to be the case. It wound up in the hands of a lot of people who are simple working stiffs, blue collar, white collar, no collar. Many of the musicians who bought copies passed it along to parents and siblings. A lot of "book people" read it. It seemed like at least a hundred of these people took the time to email or write to me. I was glad that they related to my experiences and saved every damned letter and email in our archives. I wasn't sure when I wrote it than many people would "get it"...what I had to say. They did, though.
By the way, I never did see one single bad review. That's likely because suckass, power hungry bosses never write book reviews; they're too busy making life miserable for people like you.
11/30/06
I managed to get up with the now functioning alarm and out to the shuttlebus stop to make it to my Country Music History Class on about 6 hours sleep ( interrupted by a mid r.e.m. diareah dump..stress?).
My questions from yesterday were answered today; most importantly, I won "player of the year" "rookie of the year" and "earnings of the year" on my PS2 Tiger Woods game. Tiger touchingly presented me with the trophies himself....well, not in person. Close enough.
I got 2 papers back from the Country Music History class:
My Porter Wagoner paper: "95" A.
My Lavell White paper "95" A.
The guest for the day was one of country musics greatest all time fiddlers, Johnny Gimble. An actual Texas Playboy hired by Bob Wills in 1949. He's played on a zillion sessions and knew or knows them all...those who matter. He and his son ( uhh...not some little kid..a few years older than me at least ) played some tunes. Gimble played a fiddle given to him by Bob Wills himself; he told a story about how Merle Haggard wants that fiddle so bad he's offered him big money for it. Johnny told him he can have it when he dies.
It was fun hearing a story about Bob Wills wanting to buy a Stradivarius (sp?) for a massive ammount of money.
I got home and got some more good news:
Political Science test #3: score: "91" A.
CLASS FUCKING OVER; NO NEED TO TAKE FINAL. SELL YOUR TEXT BOOKS FOR BOOZE MONEY.
I think I'm gonna sell 'em and buy a few chairs for our house.
I likely would've got an A on the POLY SCI final if I took it; this way though I can focus completely on my German final wherein I need help. I can enter a chess tournament with one round per night on Sundays beginning this weekend too; if I had to prepare for 2 finals that wouldn't be a good idea.
Ich spiele gern Schach.
I escorted Marla to one of the local Szechaun buffet's. A jolt of sodium for sure, but what the hell.
Now I can be a total blowhard when it comes to political matters; HEY, I got an "A" easily in a University course didn't I? Doesn't that make me an expert of sorts?
What?? NO??? Yeah. You're right. It doesn't mean that much. It's what you should expect from a big-mouthed Libertarian to PROVE he understands the founding Fathers intentions and our political system. My big-mouthed pal Mike McNally got an "A" in his Poly Sci course too for your information even though it was held in Boregon.
Still, I got dewey eyed over the Tiger Woods PS2 golf awards...that meant more.
11/29/06
I've been pinned down to a damned tight and tough schedule this last few days of school. The way things work, if the luck is with you, your Professors will choose different days for major tests and paper due dates. If the dice aren't with you, well....you're fucked. You've just got to suck it up. All the crying and pissing and moaning in the world won't help.
That doesn't mean I don't feel like doing my damned share of course.
This only applies if you need or want to do well. If you don't really care and have a lot of other options going for you and a rich parent or trust fund, it doesn't really matter, now does it?
I'm finishing up my degree all these years "later" because I didn't get the job done way back in time...when I actually was a different guy who I don't always relate to or defend.
If there's a statue of limitations for crimes there should be a similar factor that you apply to questionable decisions or outright dumb behavior. I didn't quite finish up a college degree, but hell.....I did a lot of living in those years. What the fuck. I also almost always had to pull off a balancing act working at crappy jobs like a lot of other students.
I'm a poor "provider" I guess, but I had the sense to bag a bride who has abilities. When she became pregnant with our little cherub Elvis I took the providing more seriously and even entered the ranks of management for awhile. When that didn't work, to make up for the fact I'm a shitty provider I'd work two jobs; I worked part time in the inventory biz for most of a decade along with another steady job.
Elvis is off on his own now, about to be married next Summer..almost neck and neck with me hours wise pulling towards our degrees in our chosen fields at the same University. He works as a chef at one of the fanciest eateries in town and goes to school and balances it so far a bit better than I did. Well, maybe a lot more.
He enjoys a few drinks, but isn't as dedicated to the bottle as I am. Don't get me wrong; he's gung ho. He takes nights off though and I never did at his age. I also smoked tons of weed and as far as I know he just dabbles now and then ( not that I give a shit ).
Anywho, I did what I thought was best at the time just like Elvis and you and your siblings and all the other students those whom you hate and those you relate to.
I never envisioned two big changes in my life over the last couple of years 1) taking chess up again and 2) going back to school. I thought both were dead issues. What will I do next?
I dunno. It depends on whether I'm able to get through 3 MORE semesters of German. What will I do with my degree everybody asks?
Just like way back early in my life I didn't have an answer. I don't know. Elvis has clear cut goals. It's no wonder I ask his advice. I think he feels embarassed that I'd ask him though.
For now, my immediate concerns are getting these damned classes wrapped up.
Sunday I drove up to Austin in the evening and played in a blitz tournament ( 5 minutes per player per game...using a digital chess clock ). I haven't studied much in months but did pretty good I guess. It took my mind off the pressures I knew I'd be facing this week.
I came home, drank until 3:00 a.m. until I was sleepy ( beer only..I'm disciplined ) got up at 7:15 and went to my classes. I had already had the foresight to prepare flashcards for 2 tests scheduled for Wednesday. Yep...I got SCREWED..2 tests in one day. I took a nap Monday afternoon. When I got up I attended a 3 1/2 hour student jazz combo perfromance. In the major surprise treat of the month I found that the place it was at in the student union building sold beer. HURRAH. I had several, went home and studied until 2:30 a.m...drank beer until 5:00 am and fell asleep. My alarm was supposed to get me up at noon for a 2:00 pm country music history class. NO SUCH LUCK.
Oh well; I didn't panic. I'm already well versed in Johnny Cash who was the object of the lecture. Waking at 1:30 pm, I immediately began preparing for Wednesdays German quiz, reviewing for the Political science test a couple hours after the German quiz and finally reading 4 stories totaling about 30 pages for that nights FINAL Creative writing Fiction class. I got there in the nick of time and participated seriously and conscientuosly for 2 1/2 hours. Home by 9:30. First meal of the day. I realized I wasn't prepared enough for the 2 tests the next morning ( Wednesday ) but planned to cram a bit right before entering the classes. I would've been better prepared, but I took the time for the extra credit points in another class watching the jazz combos.
I drank my normal amount of beer and tried to wind down but HEY...EVER HAD ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS YOU JUST COULDN'T WIND DOWN? I tried to sleep at 2:45 am but tossed and fucking turned. Very little sleep at all. Maybe an hour. I need an r.e.m. which take 2 1/2 to 3 hours. NOPE.
I felt like fucking hell getting up at 7:15. I took 2 big, hurky stinky, stressful shits and another down the hall from my German class.
Where does the shit come from?? I only had one damned medium sized meal?
The Wednesday morning German quiz went smoothly. I reviewed my flashcards for the Political science test. I was groggy as fuck. It was raining sheets and I couldn't get to the only place that sells coffee. I went to the Music building and wandered looking for a Coke machine to get a sugar rush. No such luck. I attended my Fine Arts class. We watched footage of opera. We got to see Pavarotti sing like a god wearing rather gay makeup.
One more hour to study for Poly Sci. The extra emphasis on THIS test was, if I got even just a 76 my test average for the term would be an "A" and I wouldn't need to take the final, meaning I can apply that much more time for my German final scheduled for the same fateful day 12/11.
I felt like the floor in the music building was shifting under my feet as I walked out. I needed a big wakeup, fast. I strolled to the coffee outlet since the storm had abated. I walked up a huge hill I don't even notice anymore, but used to write about here daily for awhile.
My legs are back. I got a big coffee, used my old inventory days trick of shoveling ice into it and chugging it down like a brew. I bummed a long, filterless cigarette from a talkative dude who needed a bath and a shave worse than me. I hunkered down on a bench ( padded ) outside of the Poly Sci classroom and went over my notes concerning our mighty Government and the founding fucking Fathers and their greatness and todays pisshead politicians. I had time to go over my flashcards again, but borrowing from my knowledge of chess tournament preparation knew I'd be better off saving what brain matter I had left for the battle.
I stared down at my shoes focusing on clearing my head. I watched a few co-eds stroll by with their finery hanging out. I watched a mouth breather on a nearby bench tap away at a lap-top.
I finally entered the class as the earlier class their walked out. I got my favorite seat in the very back of the theatre like room with a table top to work with. I compared notes on a couple questions with some of my class comrades, the egghead acheivers. I obstained from reviewing my flashcards again preferring not to burn my last wood until it was time to.
Oddly enough, the test seemed easier than the other 2 I've gotten "A's" on...I finished before several other students rather than being last. I turned in my test, plodded to the shuttlebus stop, totally spent.
It's 4:11 am on Thursday; this took place earlier "today". I don't know what my grade was. It's not posted yet. If I have to take the final, well so be it. I gave it my best. I went home, drank precisely 1 Miller High Life, ate some leftovers and bunked down for a mandatory nap. I woke at 6:00, wrote my last CD review for Carbon14 and headed down to the student center for more extra credit points for watching student jazz combos.
I had a few beers there and felt a bit better.
When I got home I realized I needed to relax. I ate more leftovers and popped a few more tops. I considered working, but know it's useless if I'm burnt out. Marla went to bed...and I switched on the PS2. I played a FANTASTIC 54 holes of Tiger Woods golf and delicately won a tournament. It's odd how I can do that operating off about 1/3rd of my normal mental capacity.
I walked outdoors to experience the strange cold weather front moving in. It's gonna get doen to 29 degrees or so!!! SHIT! Much of South Texas is in a lather, freaking out according to Marla. Huh.
So here I am...it's 4:19 am now and I;ve had a few beers and a few deserved shots of whiskey ( not TOO many ). I have to be at my country music class by 2:00 pm tomorrow...an easy deadline. We fixed the alarm clock.
I'm over the worst of it. Wednesday ( today or yesterday..what is it?) was the eye of the storm. A few more days of classes, finals...ONE more medium sized paper ( Hubert Selby...ahhhhh) in lieu of a final. Then, a break. I get to wallow in chess, write a few songs I've been jotting down ideas for and DRINK until sunlight several times. Book some studio mixdown time. Go on a 4 day vacation we have planned. Play in a chess tournament or two. Scratch my balls lazily considering getting up at 2:00 pm, then rolling over...fuck it.
11/26/06
It was a good enough Thanksgiving up in Austin. Marla and I wound up eating some Vietnamese chow ( un-American? oh well..) and making it to the Continental club early for Wayne Hancock's set. I briefly shook his hand aforetime and exchanged pleasantries. He said his band for the night was LOADED....and it was. Besides his normal pair of touring guys recently he had Paul Skelton ( a kickass veteran rockabilly style player who usually appears on his cd's ) a steel player who knew his shit and a frigging trumpet player (!?) with a strong lip. I've never seen one on stage with Wayne. He specialized in elephantine blasts. Wayne only called on him occasionally, but it was a nice unique touch. Marla thought it was certainly one of his best sets we've seen....I agree. Lots of different songs from his show a month or so ago. That's important.
The next day I felt sort of strange. A bit hungover perhaps. Still, when I got home I saddled up and headed for the campus library with my German text book for some study.
What the fuck? The damned library was closed for 3 goddamned days???
Either I have no life or these students have no balls. It's probably a combination of the two. It's time to bear down for finals. How do these University assholes expect people to study without a library? OK...let everybody eat some turkey on Thursday, but open the damned library for the brave few who aren't pinks and mollycoddles.
Shopping? Give me a fucking break.
Anyway, I went to the public library today and got in a blessed hour and a half of study...and then those little prisspants fucks locked the place up?!?!
What? Finals a week and a half away and they close up the city library at 5:00 pm?
If I was Dean of the University I'd do things a damned sight different. There'd be a focus on study and discipline.
How can these pansies afford to take 4 days off?
I got in some study here and there and decided to cook up a big batch of curry. I hucked into the pot some boneless chicken, medium sized shrimp, bell peppers, tons of garlic and onions, gourmet peanut butter, tons of curry powder, carrots, chili-garlic sauce, chicken stock, coconut milk, etc. and served it over Thai rice stick noodles. Mmmmmmm. I love curry.
I sent in my Carbon14 column. All I've got to do is finish by tomorrow a couple niggling little cd reviews and then I've got only ONE MORE PAPER for the time being. I've got to compose a paper loosely based on Hubert Selby's "Last Exit To Brooklyn" dwelling on Selby's talents. This is an upper division writing class and we don't even mention films very often. The movie version of this book is incredibly good, although it's as heavy and considered as depressing by many as the movie made more recently based on another one of his books "requiem for a dream". If I was a junkie and I saw "Requiem..." or read a few pages of the book I'd probably freak out. It sums that lifestyle up damned well. If anybody disagrees or thinks he went overboard I'd be happy to hear your opinion. If any of you threw up at one of his movies or had an otherwise strong reaction I'd love to hear from you; it's grist for the mill and I'll be in full on creative mode in a couple days on it
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