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Archive: 2/9/02 to 02/28/02
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2/28 pt. II
NEWSFLASH.
Holy shit...Elvis won a MAD magazine on-line monthly contest. Here's their page: http://www.warnerbros.com/pages/madmagazine/snappy.jsp
He's a chip off the old goddamned block, eh? For the record I flush the toilet religiously..he musta meant his Mom.
His prize??? the satisfaction of knowing he's more clever than millions and millions of MAD'S nostril-mining internet readers.
HELL..I'll drink to that...!!
2/28
I'm going to dip into the email bag to set up a few comments on a subject that keeps rearing its ugly head more and more often. The following is from Texas Don a pal from Austin:
"I was workingonce and walked into a barbecue place, and there was these four yuppie turds wearing funny looking clothes, they were kind of regular, looking, but exaggerated sort of, you know (the clothes I mean). I asked them what they were doing and they told me they were having a "white trash party". Now, by most peoples definition, I'm what you'd call "white trash" (I am getting so sick of that phrase, I tell you, I'm gonna kill somebody), seeing as how I lived in a mobile home, and my dad drove a truck, and none of my family's ever been to college, and the idea of some yuppie dick lick making fun of my background and family life did not set well with me at all. I had to walk out of there before I was overcome by the urge to strangle them. I mean, I don't think they'd ever wear blackface and eat barbecue and 40 ounces and call it a "nigger party", so what makes them think it's ok to make fun of a working man, drinking Lone Star and calling it a "white trash" party? Fucking assholes".
Thanks Don.
It seems to me that in my book reading travels across the frigging fruited plain I've run across fliers for "White trash night" or "trailer trash night" at more than one local club. If my understanding of club booking is correct they always hold these things on dead nights like Tuesday or Wednesday when no "tribute bands" or other cheap cornball attractions are available. Eric Flawless was telling me just the other day that in Philly every time his band the PARTY WRECKERS are approached about playing live lately it's always as a part of some "theme" night or another. Is it asking too much to book them for an ordinary club date..Hhhmm???
I may as well admit right off to having participated in a couple such nights over the years. Once Cosmo brought ECW wrestler NEWJACK to a bar and we played videotapes and wrestling oriented music. Another time somebody talked me into playing records and CD's from my personal collection following some sort of theme that I've now forgotten it was so memorable.
I'd like to hear from readers of this diary from all over the damned country about "theme" nights at their local clubs..ESPECIALLY if it involves ribbing "white trash" or "trailer trash".
I'm sort of straying from the bottom line of Don's experience...his disgust at seeing the priveleged class lampooning whitetrash publicly.
It's perhaps best to disarm these fuckers by gladly living up to their expectations and then some. I've learned over the years to wallow in accusations that I'm an ugly, overweight, often lazy alcoholic with a bad temper. There are fatter people....and uglier people and there are angrier, lazier and harder drinking individuals numbering in the multi millions in the US alone; but WHY FIGHT IT?? Why does any of that make me any worse a person than anyone else?? I wouldn't trade places with any physically fit, handsome teetotaler I've ever met. I wish I had rich peoples money...but I sure as hell don't want to be THEM. I'm comfortable with all my flaws..because I have so many talents. Lots of upper middleclass and wealthy people I've known have had to deal with incredible pressures put upon them by their "respectable" and "prosperous" parents. In my own personal case even though I am full blooded "whitetrash" by birth I was adopted and raised by middleclass suburbanites who pressured me and pressured me and pressured me to grow up to be a respecatable white collar businessman. And they weren't even wealthy. I wrote about a guy named Dwight in JOBJUMPER that I knew whose wealthy parents were ashamed of his ordinariness. If he lived in a non-pressure filled "whitetrash" environment he would've been a lot happy. I remember him saying so all those years ago.
By the way...back in Philly I noticed quite a few low income row-house folks laughing at "white trash" under the impression that it's a rural thing or a Southern thing. They couldn't be more wrong!! In fact I took several out of town guests on tours of "whitetrash" neighborhoods in Philly. Ironically many of the smug Philadelphians who make fun of redneck Bubba's lived in those very neighborhoods.
I think TV shows like Rikki Lake's have really got the masses focused on stereotypical "white trash" people through their selection of themes and guests. The producers certainly manage to book a steady stream of unrefined black guests too for that matter. Whenever I hear about Ms. Lake taking some idealistic high moral ground position publicly on subjects such as animal rights and the evils of furcoats I turn towards the nearest waste basket and vomit. Her show is designed to subject naive people to public humiliation at the hands of a studio audience. And it's all played out in the name of "compassion" or some social "cause".
It's "politically correct" to bash "whitetrash" publically and feel good about it afterwards. That's the way things are right now in the US.
When my buddy Jim Goad was on "Politically incorrect" being ridiculed a bit by panel members (buy his book the Whitetrash manifesto!) at one point rapper Heavy D turned to him and suggested on camera something to the extent (I can't remember his exact words..forgive me) that maybe what "whitetrash" needed was a gang of its own. INDEED!
Maybe some of us need to get together and wait outside some club where yuppies are poking fun of our people; we can live up to their negative expectations of us by decking them with our redneck axe handles and 2 X 4's..snag the cash from their superior, ample supply...and repair to the nearest trailer to indulge in typical lowlife, trashy, alcohol and drug induced behavior.
Yeah! Let's start a gang Don!!
2/27
I've been skimming through "Best of Temp slave" which fellow bookworm Don loaned me. Of course I can't help but reading something "job" oriented without mentally comparing it to "Jobjumper". I was impressed with the backcover blurb by Studs Terkel whose book "working" was an inspiration to me. After reading "working" (in which folks of various occupations are interviewed in depth) I wondered why in the hell there weren't more books written about the work scene instead of so goddamned many horseshit romance paperbacks and "self help" con jobs.
The book is impressive in that it's one of the only places in which one can read the TRUTH about just how bad temps have it in the workplace. I worked as a temp in Portland and L.A.for more companies than I can remember for a total of about a year and a half. Many of the people who contributed their personal story to this TEMP SLAVE collection could have been describing my own personal experiences. At most jobs temps are treated like dirt. No, change that to shit...untouchable SHIT. On many assignments I soon learned how to out perform the regular employees whom I worked alongside. Still, THEY had the regular job..and were being paid a damn sight more than I was. I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd be gone. I knew nobody was gonna come walking up to congratulate me for my superior work. I knew they weren't going to dump their slower, less efficient workers in favor of me.
In the meantime though, I worked hard..both to make the day go by quicker..AND as a matter of self respect. I might add that I learned how to type thanks to some of those crappy jobs, making it possible to write my damn book. I'd rather come away from a job with a new menial skill even if it's just knowing how to operate a topnotch copy machine than sneak around mailing useless shit out of spite.
If you REALLY wanna show the boss...get him or her demoted like I did.
That's where I part company with alot of the people whose stories are printed in Temp Slave. Several of them gloat over how little work they could get away with as if they were striking some sort of meaningful blow against an evil corporate conspiracy. Some of the same folks conclude their tales with a generic "workers arise! Let us take back the means of production from the bosses" sort of song and dance.
I say piss on that. I think it's only right that whomever paid for the damn factory owns it. Bad experiences on the job never made me "see the light" and buy into dimwitted commie crap. Even the worst assignment never made me want to bond with others who have had similar experiences. I bet alot of the temp slaves acted like fucking pricks who give GOOD temps a bad rap. NO WONDER temps receive so little money and respect; there's too many lazy assholes amongst their ranks who think the world owes them a living on their own terms.
I don't want to come across like I'm tarring all of the contributors to TEMP SLAVE with the same brush. It's just that a few of them really bugged me. They reminded me of a former friend of ours who was a falling down drunk, clumsy slob who used to never-the-less arrogantly rant along the same commie lines of reasoning that he deserved a high paying job on demand just for being born. He was WORTHLESS as a worker. He couldn't pour piss out of a boot if instructions were written in neon on the damned heel. Where did he get off thinking the rest of humanity owed him his keep??
Anyway, I enjoyed about 80% of the book. It's more fun to point out the parts I didn't like of course.
The bottom line which is of course not as entertaining as either Temp Slave or Jobjumper or any other job oriented book is the fact that about 40% of the assignments weren't all that bad, really.
I'm drinking a can of FOSTER'S lager ($1.76 per can here). I'm gonna tackle a 12 pack of LONE STAR ($5.20) and some leftover Bud's a little later. I'm still on a Henry McKenna whiskey kick lately. I got fucking shitfaced reading the Sinclair Lewis biography a couple nights ago. He was a goddamned lush himself...so it's only proper. I tried to switch over to Play Station's Tripleplay baseball but I was so out of it I couldn't even focus on the damn game.
I went to bed that night and slept on new paisley sheets we just bought; I had a wacky dream about Chris Jericho. I had the same dream last night too. What does it all mean??
2/25
It's 2/25. Time once again for everybody worthy reading this today to email your drunken, festive birthday greetings in to Marla. It's also Ric Flair's birthday incidentally..but we try to keep the celebration of HIS day at a minimum and focus on Marla.
A busy weekend of preperation for the big record show in 3 weeks. I'm bringing the biggest load of stuff I ever have to a show. It's alot of fucking work..made even more difficult because we have so much of our label stuff at our storage area.
We found time to take in the regular happy hour 3-7 pm session at the Continental club in Austin of Red Voelkart..legendary guitar slinger for many years for Merle Haggard and others. He does damn well enough on his own. He croons pretty fair..and blasted out hot leads in many styles. My favorite was an incredible fret-burning blast during a slow version of "Sleepwalk" the old Santo and Johnny tune. It was so intense and fucking soaring it reminded me of Jimi Hendrix or Bill Nelson. Of course, he's been at it longer than both of those fellers. I bet ol' Bill Nelson (who inspired this diary)over there in jolly old England would be happy as hell to hear some of Red's music. Marla and I speculated whether or not Dale Watson had a helicopter waiting to rush Red to Houston for his show that night.
I discovered a great website maintained by Lance Storm. He's been doing commentary's similar in format to this one since 1999 or so. WOW. I was attracted by his comments on the Olympics which are brilliant. Reading further I read a couple entries over the years I could have written..almost identical stances to certain issues I've rambled about here. Read his rant about SOUTHWEST AIRLINES..I wrote one point for point like it. Lance loves Tennessee (not as much as Canada of course) reading and is a film fanatic. I'll go along with him on all of those points. He doesn't drink or party or describe bowel movements in detail like I do, but cut him some slack on those points. Best of all in my opinion he's not only a topnotch wrestler, he respects and upholds the traditions of his profession.
I talked to the first guy responding to our add yesterday. I'm damned aware it's going to take about 15 or 20 calls to locate a decent prospect. The main problem is FUCKING READING COMPREHENSION on the part of most aspiring musicians. The guy who called had no business reaching for his cellphone in the first damn place. When I mentioned that we play alot of wrestling oriented songs (it's in the add) he just went "huh?? as if he had no clue how or why anybody would want to do that. He slowly asked as it dawned upon him "so do you guys wrestle on stage?" becoming rather wary of me. I mentioned the CRAMPS in passing..(I told him Marla and I are almost as old as them) and he had no idea who they were. I mentioned Jello who is from his hometown..he had never heard of him or the DK's.
Now do you see why we don't get together and "jam" (I hate that word) with people without a lot of discussion? The fellow's last band sounded like Incubus I am told. Well, more power to ya' pal..and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
HEE HEE HEE. Searching for band members is a pain in the ass at times, but it never fails to provide some stories. Stay tuned.
Wrestling night again. I'll probably have something to say once again about the Chumpster and his overated buddies..so, I'm signing out for now.
Once again. HAPPY BIRTHDAY Marla...XXXX OOOO XXX OOO.
2/22
Another REALLY BIG SHOE down at the Continental club tonight..DEKE Dickerson and Dale Watson. Yeah..WOW.
The best thing you could say about the large crowd was that they paid their damn money up front. What a buncha prickfaces...and I thought that punk rock audiences sucked! Lotsa guys with cliche rockabilly hair and plaid shirts..and their women who are fucking airheads and just want to occupy space up front on the dance floor and talk..silly cunts.
Rockabilly is probably my favorite overall genre of music (don't anybody get startled..I like several other genres almost as much) it's embarassing to me to see "psycho-billy" numbnuts boobs hog the dance floor at a great club like the Continental. Sorry fuckfaces.."rockabilly" has nothing to do with Social Distortion or Rev. Horton Heat (since he went "lounge" a few years ago"). Rockabilly is best represented by Billy Lee Riley..Sleepy Labeefe and their ilk. Younger bands like "High Noon" are great too (to name just one) but I think as of tonight I've decided that rockabilly needs to be reclaimed by people like me who are into it for the damn MUSIC and not for some sort of social whirl.
Deke Dickerson kicked fucking ass tonight..he opened with a batch of songs that have sort of a Capitol records circa "1952-1956" sound. He made a big deal out of the fact that he was switching over to a "rock and roll" set at one point and declared that they had been boo'ed from Jacksonville to NYC to Denver for it. It sounded like good 'ol Link Wray style kickass RNR to me. The audience wasn't dancing alot.
Later, Dale Watson took the stage and opened things up by bashing out 3 songs that should have had the audience in tears. He started with a tribute version without fanfare of "I've always been crazy" by the recently deceased Waylon Jennings. Next was his song "CMA" which stands for COUNTRY MY ASS in Dale's world. He told a story about learning after the fact that Waylon had T-shirts made when he heard of the song. It's a killer song...very sarcastic. the first verse sings of the misery's of a poor country star who had to spend 5 whole days out on the road...OHMYGOD!! Next Dale and his band (including Merle Haggard's guitar player for a jillion years Red Voelkart) launched into a by-request version of "Good old boys" as an additional Waylon trib. What a fucking great beginning to a show!! Still, the same dumb clueless cunts who stood on the dance floor obliviously yakking during DD's set kept it up.
The audience was just too fucking jaded.
I think Wayne Hancock's audience is a much more sincere bunch of ugly, clumsy dancing sorts. Dale and Deke drew a load of fashionable dumbasses this night. It's no slight towards them..they both gave all they had and didn't deserve so many fools.
I bought 2 DD CD's we don't have.
By the way..Dale wrapped things up with "Luckenbach Texas". He was really waving the country legends flag tonight (his Luther Perkins tune rules!) and deserves to be heard by YOU. Tell him the Whiskey Rebel sent ya'....
I'm glad I didn't have to think about wrestling tonight.
I've been reading like hell today...polishing off a WILLIAM GAINES (MAD) book and plowing through more of the Sinclair Lewis biography.
I drained many a beer at the club tonight; at one point out of recognition for the fact that Craig from the Bulemics is disgusted by my public Budweiser consumption (hey...I'm a Texan now) I switched over to LONE STAR's. Sleepy time is headed my way.
2/21
Ordinarily I wake up bad. I'm sickeningly giddy this particular morn though. My sleep schedule has been pretty fucked up for so long I've expected it to accidently mend itself out of the blue..and it has. I gently passed out at 2:30 am and have awoken jolly and refreshed at 7:30 am?!?!?!?!?
Often its hours later than this before I'm able to nod off even.
I greeted the stupid (our cat) warmly..so warmly and with such enthusiasm he ran like hell, terrified. I just drove Elvis off to school with non-bloodshot eyes and no fear of being pulled over and jailed for being drunk in the Texas morning.
I'm going to chirp off to some thrift stores in Austin in a couple hours. That's probably best..as this is no morning to write or make any decisions. I'm just too happy.
The Austin Chronicle ran our "drummer" add...and they fucked it up bigtime. It reads "two year old COS band RANCID VAT" instead of "20 year old COS band RANCID VAT". Well, what the fuck..it was free. I can always place another add in 10 days..I bet I'll have to. I'm told drummers are in demand in Austin..but guitar players are a dime a dozen.
I've got a HUGE task in front of me getting ready for the big Austin record convention in mid-March. It's gonna seem weird not having Jeff Clayton sitting next to me during it...Antiseen will be in Europe by then. I've got two tables to fill along a wall space. I hope alot of Whiskey Rebel-roos come by to say hello (bring beer) ...it's the same fucking weekend as SXSW. Anyway, I haven't set up at a record show since May of last year at WFMU record fair in NYC. I'm frigging (why didn't I type "fucking"?..I'm too cheerfull) loaded with albums to set out. I've got a special order of COS band CD's coming in to peddle. It's not gonna seem the same without Jeff there though.
This would be a lovely morning to die instantly of a stroke. I have no regrets or bad feelings at all..nothing to yell "Noooo!" about as I sink to the ground.
Damn. I thought about wrestling from last night and I'm starting to get just a wee bit pissed off. Luckily Steve Austin was there to carry those mumbling, unfunny Nwo clowns. Only about 4 matches all night long though..sheesh. That's not very damn many. Notice how much better a heel Chris Jericho is than the 3 overated yawns??
Uh oh....my happy mood is souring.
Must think happy thoughts..think happy thoughts.
It's hard to think happy thoughts..with Hogan and his mustache running through my mind. Hall and Nash and their 45 year old juvenile delinquent bit.
Is it my imagination?? or did I just cuss at the damn cat again?? The goddamned little fuckface. My head is starting to throb..and my anus too. What the hell did I eat last night?? gravel?? I need to take an itchy bunghole shit followed by a shower.
My mood is slipping away. I just polished off the last of the coffee. I'm no longer whisting the happy "Gomer Pyle" theme. I'm looking at my "Confederate States of America commanders" coffee cup trying to get happy again. J.E.B. Stuart...Braxton Bragg..Stonewall Jackson..Jeff Davis...Robert E. Lee.
It's not working. Damn...so when is the first drummer sap going to call up?? I oughta call the Austin Chronicle and find out which one of the trendy halfwits on their retarded staff fucked up my add. I smell a plot..perhaps an old enemy from Snoreland works on the worthless rag now. Oh fuck...Jinx is trying to nuzzle my leg. GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE you dumbass.
Shit. What am I doing up this early?? I oughta go back to bed..but I'd probably just toss and turn. I'll stay up and go to thrift stores..but my head is pounding. Well, the sooner I get back from a thriftstore run the sooner I can get started drinking. Shit.
I guess I better go see what stupid questions my Ebay dummies have for me.
2/20
Here's the truth...like it or not. If you thought Chump Hogan was "better" back in the 80's....it's only because you were too young to be able to discriminate between good wrestling and bad.
Hogan sucked back then...he was a big guy with little talent who some talented people behind the scenes MADE into a "superstar" for NON-WRESTLING fans.
If you liked Hogan back then..it was because you weren't a wrestling fan; you were an impressionable pop culture little pinprick. WRESTLING FAN'S have always known better...and over the last 20 years have preferred Flair, Race, Steamboat, Fat Dusty, Roddy, Terry Funk, etc. etc. on up to recent times and Austin, the Rock, Benoit, etc.
The Ultimate "warrior" was likwise a body builder sent into the ring to appeal to non-wrestling fans. Same for Luger.
As a rulebreaker Chump Hogan is WOEFULLY inept; I mean, he's fucking AWFUL. As a pop culture "drink yer milk and take yer vitamins" hero guy appearing on lunchboxes and on the A-team TV show with Mr. T..well, he did his job. Sorta.
As a rulebreaking, heel pro-wrestler he is fucking AWFUL.
In the world of pro-wrestling the rulebreaker is the focal point of interest in a match..he's the hot sauce in the chili...the straw that stirs the drink. A strong heel can not only work the main event, he can have a dominant role in the primary tagteam event..and perhaps an undercard singles match or two.. and cut an interview that can make the other heel wrestlers all seem like deadly monsters.
Hogan simply can't fucking compare with durable, hardworking heels who can pull all of that off. He is to wrestling what KISS is to rock and roll....only less. Like Dirty Harry says.."a man's gotta know his own limitations"..Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons know damn good and well they can't crank out classic albums of original material...even so-so bands like Foghat and the Guess Who wrote better songs back in the day. So they sidestep writing decent new material and "give the people what they want"...the same old set of songs.
Chump Hogan should follow their lead and either do what he's capable of doing..portraying a 1/2 strength but charming self parody fan favorite..or hang up his jockstrap. Sorta like Mick Jagger coming to a realization that he better not try to dance like a youthful James Brown anymore.
Elvis suggested tonight that perhaps Vince KNOWS how silly the Chumpster looks..and is milking it for an effect. Perhaps Mr. McMahon is clever enough to send the cookieduster'd clod out to look stupid as a payback for their legal embroglio's in the past...Hhhmmm????? Food for thought.
Anyway "top heel" in a wrestling promotion requires certain skills..and Chumpster DOESN'T have them. Ric Flair has wisely stepped into a "co-owner" role in which he can wrestle once in a while quite convincingly..along the lines of Bill Watts, Bob Armstrong, etc. over the years. I don't know why Chumpster's so damn convinced he's such an awesome wrestler still. He NEVER knew more than 4 or so moves. If they wanted to work him into the current WWF mix they could have done it better in my book by perhaps having him sit ringside and introduced as a former superstar. A decent heel could attack him sitting at ringside and ratings could be boosted by teasing a coming out of retirement match for Hogan.
But, no. He just can't let it go..his ego still refuses to admit that the guy on the lunch pail is over 50 years old now. He still wants to be the center of attention..maybe Elvis is right and Vince is setting him up for a bigtime fall.
Scott Hall can wrestle. No better than Kane...no better than Bossman..but he can do SOMETHING. His old Razor Ramon gimmick was pretty good way back when. His work as cowboy Scott Hall in the AWA way back when was OK. He perhaps deserves a similar mid-card push as Goldust is getting. Perhaps.
Kevin Nash by all accounts is lockeroom poison. His former manager DDP far exceeds Nash's in ring ability. He's pretty much the guy you read about on the internet..he stands around in the ring alot and doesn't work to make other guys look good. A big guy who is similar to a 7 footer in the NBA who scores 5 points per game and snags 7 rebounds. An underachiever. Go back and look at the "classic" ladder match in which Shawn Michaels carried his lathargic ass out of friendship. If you think Big Show is a bit of a big stiff..well, Nash is sure as hell no better.
My good friend Geoff Gavin has SWORN OFF of wrestling..at least for a day or two..I hope he was just pissed off when he emailed me and told me he's taking a break from it all.
Don't quit watching WWF Geoff....there's still a bit of hope that Vince is planning to square accounts with the three NWO bozo's in a way we don't foresee as of yet. I mean, what better way to make his established superstars look good than to send out a bunch of prima donna goofballs to try to fill their shoes.
Besides thinking about wrestling I've been reading like crazy lately. I've got the long awaited new biography of one of my favorite writers....Sinclair Lewis.
Yeah, the Buk didn't like him as he got older..so what??? I part company with the master when it comes to SL. I also just read Larry Hagman's biog. in the last 24 hours and have located a Robert Mitchum 2001 biog. to read in a few days.
It's amazing to me how none of these books were available at the Philly central public library..which I visited every 3 weeks. They were loaded with "black studies" books however.
Oh hell....no wonder I keep being mistaken for a "racist". I've dared to suggest that a higher percentage of "black studies" books can be found in a public library in a city with a 50% black population.
Before you start sending me finger pointing email, remember I've read a small mountain of books by Iceberg Slim, Donald Goines and Richard Wright to name just a few great black authors. And, I didn't read them because somebody declared a month "black history" month..any more than a black person might read Ayn Rand or Ambrose Bierce or Mark Twain because "white history month" were declared. I read them because they were damn good books anybody with inside knowledge would kill for to read.
Tomorrow the phone will ring off the hook from the "wanted: drummer" add I placed in the Austin Chronicle. I intend to grill each and every motherfucker that calls about pro-wrestling AND Iceberg Slim too. God, what a fucking drag. I hope we find a drummer or two right off.
2/18
It's Monday night..which means that wrestling must be dealt with. Usually it's a happy topic to write about..tonights "Nwo" re-hash schtick makes this an exception to the rule.
I still stand behind a statement I've made for years: "Chump Hogan eventually ruins any promotion he works for". I didn't see anything happen tonight that would lead me to believe that he'll be anything less than a hokey, sloppy, lazy, over-the-hill sap who will hurt the careers of young wrestlers who deserve the push.
The other two weren't as visible tonight as the Chumpster; but you can bet your sweet ass they weren't making many friends in the lockeroom. How would you like it if you slaved away for years to help your boss defeat the competition and you were rewarded by being brushed aside so that the LOSERS from the defunct, beaten competitor could have the limelight???
In spite of the positive spin some of the wrestlers put on it publicly most of them have to be fucking STEAMED. Chris Benoit admitted publicly that the guys just brought in by the boss were in part responsible for driving him away from WCW. Look at the other guys and try to figure out how they probably feel right now. RVD is gonna suffer bigtime for instance.
It's pretty common knowledge that the WWF has emphasized training its wrestlers to wrestle a particular style that keeps matches moving fast. They've sent many seasoned veterans to Ohio to relearn how to keep up the pace demanded by modern WWF style wrestling. Much has been made about the harmony behind the scenes. Even the biggest names don't hesitate to put over other wrestlers. And now management contradicts itself by bringing in guys who DON'T sell, DON'T give a flying fuck about passing along knowledge to younger workers..guys who plain and simply aren't going to be held to the same standards as the WWF guys who've busted their asses for the company for a long time.
I tell you why this all stinks so bad to me and why I'm spending so much time on it. It reminds me of similar contradictions I've seen in the working world many, many times. Most of the guys on the net whose opinions I respect..like Dave Meltzer for instance..probably haven't worked at pissant jobs for awile..and I think alot of young wrestling fans are simply too young to have experienced this sort of situation first hand in their own lives. It's a sad reminder that the boss can screw YOU and ME at will in spite of a few years of backpatting and smiling and talk of "harmony" and "teamwork" and "company spirit". They can turn on us at will...it happens in workplaces everyday everywhere..don't forget that. A great job can turn to shit overnight.
OK. Tonights card started with a horrible, beaten to death "arrest" angle that sent Steve Austin to "jail" for the night. In recent years Austin, Helmsley, Undertaker, Kane, Mr. McMahon, etc. have all been led out of the ring to be incarcerated. Its been done in other promotions too...Public Enemy in ECW, Billy Joe Travis (uhhh actually he was arrested for non payment of child support for real and they worked it into the show) in USWA. The purpose of arresting Austin was so he couldn't be there to rescue somebody. It didn't take long for me to guess that somebody was the Rock. When Hogan said goodbye to the other 2 NWO guys claiming he had personal business to take care of I smelled a rat. While Chumpster and the Rock yakked in the ring I declared to Elvis that the other 2 guys would be returing to jump the peoples champion. Of course I was right. It was SSooooo obvious.
I thought Hogan's mic work was awkward and poor. When he was declaring his greatness he didn't sound like even he believed it. He looked a bit bewildered by the "WHAT" chants I thought. 90% of heels from Jesse Ventura (whom Hogan stole his schtick from in the first place) right up to the current champ Chris Jericho have pulled that sort of thing off MUCH better.
Things went from bad to pathetic when the bad boys attacked the ambulence the stretchered Rock was being toted away in (yawn). Hall showed his greatness by taking a chain and harmlessly slapping it against the solid wall of the ambulence. Nash managed to break a window..and for this one time didn't say anything stupid. Hogan was more than making up for it by repeating 4 times.....4 TIMES (we counted!) "I'm gonna lay the smack down on his crippled ass..NWO style".
Go back and watch your tape...he repeated that line 4 times.
Then, he waited until Hall and Nash were 50 feet away almost inside their escape limo to declare "C'MON guys..let's get OUTTA here!!".
After the commercial break Lawler and J.R. did their best to sell the dastardly deeds by the NWO. They kept pointing out over and over how certain wrestlers seemed upset about what had happened.
Yep....I bet they felt NAUSEOUS from such a pathetic display of Hogan ineptitude. I'd wager more than a few stomachs turned South in the lockeroom at the sight of Hogan's awful leg drop. IMAGINE how some of the guys who've been exiled to wrestling off of TV or on Sunday night Heat felt!!
Still, I have to be honest and admit that as much as it all SUCKED..I expected worse. Watching the NWO angle emerge into full idiocy and an endless parade of spray painted backs, lame geriatric legdrops and total refusual to make the other guy look good once in awhile on the part of the NWO dudes (or should I say DUD'S) is like looking forward to eating liver twice a week.
But, at least we don't have to endure Lex Loogey or Buff Boring (yet!! EEEKK!). I suggest they dump the NWO rerun and use the guys for the duration of whatever contracts they've signed to put over the younger wrestlers.
Of course we know THAT'S not gonna happen.
I predict Eric Bishoff will be hired and brought in within weeks.
Any Takers??
2/17
Marla and I went to Austin tonight to see the BULEMICS and a band featuring members (I'm not sure which) of the HOOKERS. Unfortunately, the band featuring members of the HOOKERS cancelled out due to the fact that they rolled their van en route.
Shit. I'm told that nobody was injured but that equipment was destroyed.
I sure as hell hope that's the extent of the damage.
If so, sign us up for the benefit to cover their losses.
Anyway, there was 3 bands on the bill tonight..the first a band from Dallas known as the Kriminalz. Based on their name I expected a rap-metal act. Happily it was rock N; roll. Their bass player didn't show up though...so they played as a two piece guitar/drums. I admired their guts for taking the stage anyway. It sounded OK. Better than a lot of bands with all members present and accounted for. Better than most, really.
The next band "pink Swords" all took the stage wearing T-shirts that read "swords" on the front and a 7 dwarves-like nickname on the back..yunno.."stinky" & "dirty".
Within half a song I perceived I was in store for some Turboneger re-hash. Sure enough, they played a cover song of theirs during the set.
I consider myself a longterm friend and supporter of Turbo over in Norway. I even wrote liner notes for them about their swollen Norwegian penices for a CD. I'm NOT partial to bands that ape them to gain popularity.
So Marla and I drank outside for a while with Dirty Charlie from Lubbock who I'm told has a girlfriend who perceived our band RANCID VAT was a "racist" band before we even took the stage at the supershow last September. I am told a black fellow was warned not to enter the building while we played....
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!
This is more proof to me that people who cry "racism" wrecklessly without reason are currently more of a present danger in our country than actual racists.
Rancid Vat has featured multiple female, jewish and homosexual members over the last 20+ years. No legit "haters" or "racists" will have anything to do with us. I've had a bellyfull of stupidity from low IQ idiots like that. Sorry Charlie..your girlfriend is full of shit. She should do her homework in the future rather than make idiotic, unfounded assumptions.
Anyway, the BULEMICS took the stage and gave our Sunday night an asskicking. It would've been a main event in any music venue in the USA. A back to the basics sort of punk rock primer that is becoming more and more unique in the age of Crap-metal. The evening reminded me of a wrestling card in which a key match MADE the whole night after some so-so action.
Hey, Elvis had a goddamned DATE today with a local San Marcos gal. It wasn't all THAT long ago he was an immature knucklehead. What can I say?? He's a "chip off the old block" Chick magnet. He's come into his own as a ladies man. Soon he'll be beating them off with a stick just like the old man back in Beaverton in the mid-70's.
I took the opportunity to tell him the story of my having to deal with my sourpuss future-inlaws the first time I met them in 1976. My Father in law's head was perma-glued into a "peoples eyebrow" for the entire evening. He hated my guts just as much then as he does now.
Fuck, I'm gonna hit the damn rack. Hopefully I can hit the thrift stores in the morning in Austin if I'm able to fall asleep now.
2/16
OK....after hearing horror stories of dis-respect towards Waylon who made the insensitive mistake of dying as a "white trash" Icon, I'm at the end of my fucking rope when it comes to people of a certain mentality.
I'm talking about people who think it's SSOoo fucking righteous and clever and cute to target "rednecks" "trailer trash" "white trash" "mullets" etc., etc. as some sort of ultimate evil in our society..an endless source for cliche jokes.
For the record, I've never lived in a trailer...I've never worn a "mullet" hair-do and I've only been a Southernor for a couple months. I tell you what though..I bet a large percentage of city dwellers and suburban wussies who just love to make with the worked-to-death "trailer trash humor" jokes live more like fucking pigs themselves in their row houses and split level cookie cutter castles than they ever want to admit. I ask of all you sophisticated "mullet humor" types..what fucking hair-do are you sporting?? One of those dumbass, ordinary and "safe" rap-metal or "Friends" jobs or perhaps an alternative bleached blonde Prince Valiant look-alike style?? Maybe you're a bald headed wigger with baggy moron-clown pants (a 7 or 8 or year old fad already) .or a gal sporting those retarded oval shaped "deliberately ugly" Edith Prickly glasses. How many of you who are so gungho about laughing yourself silly over worn out, cliche trailer/redneck/mullet jokes wear one of those stupid little greasy fucking collars or strings of "tribal" beads or whatever the fuck you call them around your pencil neck??
Uh HuH...Uh HUH...and how many of you sported tattoo's and piercings BEFORE they became "acceptable" by even church going folk??? HHhhmmmmm???
I'll tell you what, you lame..holier than thou fuckfaces. When I see somebody that you snicker at as a "redneck" or "mullet" or "white trash" I see somebody who HASN'T fallen for the last 2 or 5 or 10 or 15 years of trendy fashion like almost all of YOU. If you're really so fucking happy to be a slave to fashion trends as featured in vomit-inducing, typical rags as "the Source" and "Mojo" and "Spin" and "Tiger Beat" then you're beyond help. The "necks" you laugh at are SUPERIOR to you, because they aren't fashion-clone dickheads. They don't all go out and buy some dumbass thongs or bell bottom's or sport some fucking "queer-cut" (a term I'm borrowing from the great band Puke Spit "N Guts") just because Britney or Puffy or Limp Bisquit or the goddamned Backend Boyz incorporate it in their contrived, bullshit acts.
I'm not going to name names right now...
But I sure as hell could change my fucking mind. I've noticed over the last couple years an uncomfortable number of personal acquantances sporting stupidass trendwear that I should call them on.
If you fella's need a role model to imitate, choose a timeless cool hero to emulate; like the great Jim Cornette...or the always stylish Jeff Clayton. Instead of the latest rap-wear why not go back further and pattern your wardrobe after the legendary delta bluesmen??? Or George Clinton...Hhmm???
Most of you women need a LOT of work unless you're content to look like every other female at the mall. Female fashion is at a goddamn LOWPOINT within my lifetime...because women are so content to take the easy way out and dress like every other woman...who are all imitating the same handful of trendy cunts. If that describes you, by what stretch of the imagination do you consider yourself worthy of being judgemental about "trailer trash" and "mullets"???
Develope your OWN look. Then, if you want to stand in judgement of others you won't look so stupid, petty and hypocritical doing so. You don't even need to do that..if you prefer to buy trendy clothes off the rack at the mall...then do so..but SHUT THE FUCK UP!! You're no better than anybody else just because you're more "fashion conscious".
I'm serving notice as of NOW....if I know you and I hear you bashing the legions of brave, traditional folk who don't dress like "alternative" types, wigger's and VH1 hostesses I will call you on it from now on.
I recommend that kindred spirits email this to all the trendy, uppity jackasses on their lists.
"drawing a line in the sand"...Thee WHISKEY REBEL
2/15
I'm reading a great book right now.."Where dead voices gather" by Nick Tosches who has written many books over the years..including biographies of Jerry Lee Lewis and Dean Martin and a historical work titled "country"that delves into the cracks and crevices of the genre. "..Dead voices.." Is a rambling sort of commentary covering the rise of minstrelsy before the civil war and continues on into modern times. Various genres of popular music that are around today or have come and GONE are examined and their roots are traced back. One of the themes of the book is the back and forth influence sometimes conscious and sometimes not of musical styles between blacks and whites in America. The conventional wisdom assertion often heard that all genres of popular music were originated by blacks a long time ago is a simplistic and flawed theory. A ton of data is included to explain who likely did what first. To quote Tosches: "What we claim as originality and discovery," he states, "are nothing but the airs and delusions of our innocence, ignorance and arrogance; that whatever is said was said better -- more powerfully, beautifully, and purely -- long ago." Another topic covered that caught my eye is the fact that the original "primitive" delta blues men were sharp dressing, sophisticated guys who were expected by naive white "folk" audiences to be rural clodbusters. I'm not going to pretend to review the blasted book...lots of it is frankly over my head. I recommend that the heavy readers who read this diary check it out.
I've found another great album of country drinking songs dating back to 1967.."Whiskey River/There stands the glass" by Johnny Bush. I've got several singles by Bush..but I only recently got this LP. The cover shows Johnny clad in a brown leisure suit standing at a bar contemplating a tumbler of Jack. A bartender with huge porkchop sideburns ala Stan Stasiak stands can be seen in the background. The album progresses from Webb Pierces "there stands the glass" to "pour the wine" and "whiskey river"; Side two eventually seems to take a concillatory stance with "it's the last time I'll ever cheat on you" and "these lips don't know how to say goodbye". I suggest fans of drinking/adultery oriented country songs scour the flea markets for this one.
I forget if I'm repeating myself by pointing out the "Ziggy Stardust & the spiders from mars" of country music.."DRUNK and CRAZY" by the great Bobby Bare. I compare it to the Bowie classic because I think it's a great "Concept" album and for no other reason. From stem to stern it's chock full of brilliant, decadent songs many of which were written by Shel Shilverstein (yunno....he wrote "a boy named Sue"). Many country albums if not MOST in fact have filler songs..just like rock n roll, punk rock and every other genre. Drunk and Crazy can be listened to from beginning to end. It's got a sinful edge that titilates the hell out of me. Anyway, go get a damn copy if you're into irreverent country.
I keep meaning to get in touch with Sir Barry from Antiseen. Evidently he's familiar with the SIMS game we've become addicted to around here. He'll have a few secret codes to share I'm sure. Elvis and I have created several households so far. Our first SIM was Bob..a "nice guy" bachelor who never seems to get upset and always gets to work on time. We helped Bob get married..and then got a little bored with his Wife's constant complaining. So, we created Rex..a swinging single with a short fuse, but a nice stereo and cookie duster mustache. Many women hate him on sight. Our single Mom Ebony got into a slap fight with him within seconds of their meeting for the first time. DAMN! Rex stole away Bob's flighty, complaining Wife....but we soon sent her back to Bob and built a house full of 4 single ladies for Rex to put the move on. Ebony's household is damned hectic..she's got 7 kids and no time to work out of the home. What will happen?? One day the toilet clogged and her kids were pissing all over the damn floor. Recently we got ol' Rex a hot tub..so things should get pretty "steamy" in more ways than one at his bachelor pad. I can't wait!! I look forward to our SIMS lives more than our own.
2/13
Tonight, Elvis busted into the room I was scanning Ebay items in obviously with something on his mind.
"You better put down what's in your hand" he said.."this is gonna be a bad one!"
That's our code language meaning someone of note we respect has just died. He grew up watching me pay respect to fallen greats. When he was very young, Lee Marvin passed away. I learned at about 1:30 am after a night of hearty beer drinking. My automatic response was to walk to the liquor cabinet and get down a fifth of whiskey. "This is a bad one..a REAL bad one" I declared. I watched bits of his films and saluted him (he's my favorite alltime actor) 'til dawn.
The Christmas that Dean Martin went Elvis was much older..and able to participate in the festivities. We got out all his records and knocked back shots..each at our own pace.
Eddie Gilbert was another bad one; REALLY bad. I don't even want to go into that one. Terry Gordy's passing was really tough too. There are too many greats to mention them all here. We lost Gus from Rupture not long ago. That STILL weighs on my mind almost every night.
Well, tonight was one of those REALLY bad ones. Of course, we lost the great Waylon Jennings. I told Marla and Elvis I had to force myself to do my work before paying "tribute" to him in my own way. They've gone to bed...and the house is quiet. I'm slowly mulling over his life and music in my mind while listening to his records (I've got a play stack of 24 of his LP's at my side). I'm tossing back shots of Henry McKenna washing them down with PEARL beer. TEXAS beer.
Elvis drained a can of PEARL earlier and added it to an archive of beer cans marked to show who's passing they commemorate. Joey Ramone, Terry Gordy. Etc.
My quiet reflection was interrupted when I took a stroll to YAHOO'S news page. There's a message board to Waylon's memory..and I thought I'd check out the tributes. Unfortunately, a handful of lonely assholes were dominating the posts with silly messages about "country music was stolen from blacks", "Garth is MUCH better" and similar stuff posted to mess with peoples minds more than to express the posters opinion.
It's amazing to me how many people who think they hold some sort of moral highground rip into rednecks, white trash, country music, Elvis Presley, etc. as if "rednecks" were the ultimate source of evil. You see it on mainstream TV shows everyday.
If you haven't read my pal Jim Goad's "Redneck Manifesto" it's time to get a copy. He examines this phenomena in depth.
To me, the ultimate source of what I hate in our society has nothing to do with any one race. I hate fucking LIAR'S trying pass themselves off as something they are not...especially when they snicker and laugh at how CLEVER they are to have fooled all of us. Yeah, sure you did. I hate TRENDY ASSHOLES who are too fucking stupid to realize the big picture of fashions and trends in our society. I hate MANIPULATORS who look for sneaky, devious ways to ram their tired personal messages down our throats whether it be "John 3:16" painted on a sheet and held behing the football goalpost or silly communist pamphlets disguised as something of interest to "workers".
The guy posing on the Waylon message board as a black trying to "educate" us about the truth behind country music history might just as well have been a white guy from a hate group trying to show how low blacks can be. That's why you can't let it get to you and lose track of what's really important.
After reading lots of idiotic messages and many responses I decided to post the following message: "To Waylons fans only"
"Like so many of you I'm sad to see him go. I'm playing his music and drinking shots of whiskey to salute him. It's amazing how many lonely jerks with no interest in Waylon are posting moronic messages here thinking they're Sooo clever. It's like toilet graphitti. You can't stop it..but it's quickly forgotten. On the other hand Waylons music will live on and on for us millions of fans. Goodbye Waylon!!"
I'm now listening to Waylon's "I've always been crazy" album. I love the Buddy Holly medley. For those who aren't aware, Waylon played bass at Buddy's last shows. He gave the Big Bopper HIS seat on the plane, because the poor guy was sick..and the bus trip through sub zero temperature Iowa was expected to be awful.
After Buddy died Waylon followed his advice and returned to country as opposed to rock and roll...it seemed to suit him better. Over the years I think Waylon accomplished a union of country & rock and roll that lots of fashionable egghead journalists attribute to others such as Graham Parsons. That's NOT to put down Parson's. A few years from now I think you'll find that history will agree with my opinion.
Waylon's music was unique and different. If you listen to his 70's work spread out over a few albums you can hear that he used a trademark sort of "slow and fast at the same time" (for lack of a better description) beat that makes his music recognizable before his voice even appears in many songs (listen to "Are you sure Hank done it this way") A great song writer, he was equally capable of making brash statements or showing his sense of humor.
My favorite Waylon albums??
Off the top of my head for his oldest stuff I prefer a Canadian Vocalion label (a little hard to find) LP with his Buddy Holly produced single on it..and standards like "Abilene" "crying" and even Dylan's "Don't think twice".
For slightly later stuff we have the RCA Best of LP such as "only Daddy that'll walk the line" "Ruby don't take your love to town" and "just to satisfy you".
"I've always been crazy" is absolutely essential...and easy to find.
1977's "Ol Waylon" is loaded..with "Luckenbach Texas" "I think I'm gonna kill myself" and a medley of a couple Elvis hits.
"Black on Black" has "Women do know how to carry on" (one of my FAVES),...a German "country club" series album I have has 13 tracks including "Good hearted woman" (which my friends from Hammerlock recently recorded) "Bob Wills is still the King" and one of Waylon's best:"Are you sure Hank done it this way?".
Waylon is associated often with Willie Nelson...for good reason. After reading his autobiography it seemed to me he was closer to Johnny Cash. I suggest it as a topnotch read. Lots of funny stories...such as Johnny and him being roomates once in Nashville trying to stay away from drugs. They'd actually hide drugs in the apartment from one another like a couple teenagers!
Jennings wife Jessi stood behind him through a lot of trouble and hell raising. He was lucky to have her..and obviously knew it according to his book.
Well Waylon...it's time to say goodbye. I'll confess I went through a phase when I was young when I looked down my nose at your music along with that of many other country singers. It's to my benefit I outgrew THAT. I'm starting to mist up again..so I'll shut up, sign off and knock back another few shots in your honor.
2/12
Today's reading material was a thriftstore find published in 1991.."the Worst rock 'n roll records of all time". It was a fairly entertaining book...considering I read most of it between "presidente" hands on my Play Station card game..and there was a certain rationale to the authors way of thinking that was consistent. I enjoyed the attacks on creeps like Billy Joel and Milli Vanilli whom they had PEGGED.
Of course It almost goes without saying that I'm going to launch into a few of my least favorites here. I've written about it from time to time and posted this same info on email groups before. My list has stayed fairly consistent for a long damn time.
(Remember! you're on dangerous, illogical ground making"lists" like this if you don't acknowledge that all forms of music are merely matters of opinion. If you think "Aqualung" by Jethro Tull is the greatest LP ever..I can plug my nose and say you have no taste..but I can't logically prove it's any less an LP than something I rank high.)
The worst song of all time in rock and roll history in my opinion is "Wild Fire" by Michael Murphy. "Sometimes when we touch" by Dan Hill is right up there (or should I say down there) with it. "New kid in town" by the Eagles and "horse with no name" by America suck so bad I'm seriously choking back vomit thinking about them.
There are a few artists who just have a way of pissing me off..BAD. The aforementioned Eagles along with Toto, CSN irk the fuck out of me. Just as bad are the crop of females who gratuitously run up and down scales within every song in a cavalcade of nails on the chalk-board pop "talent" run amok; I'm talking Mariah Carey for instance.
Bjork holds a "special" place in my heart...which I've wanted to rip out of my chest to relieve myself from her pugugly warbling. When I worked at Tower in Philly I was repeatedly subjected to her vocal "charms" enough that I had to focus to keep from running out of the building while on duty to escape her.
I would have mentioned Billy Joel by now except for the fact that I don't consider what he does to be related to RNR or R&B in any fucking way. Marla gets a blood thirsty look in her eye when his name is brought up...and she's not kidding around. If she ran into him I bet she'd go to rake his dogeyed face open with the nearest sharp object.
The book I read wisely included Bruce Willis for his attempts at rock back in the 70's. It was absolute rock fucking bottom.
The most disgusting ticketmaster customers I ever experienced were the accolytes of Jimmy Buffett, Phish, Grateful Dead-related side projects and "prog rock" acts. Suffice it to say I fucking loathe all of those acts. It's amazing how many friends I have who make exceptions for some of the above. If you are one of them, all I can say is spare me your fucking story about 3 hour Phish sets...it only causes me to lose respect for you a bit. One day hopefully you'll break free of that crap.
Remember, there's a difference between titantic hatred for a band..and a "don't give a shit" attitude. For instance..I don't give a damn either way about a group like Metallica..or boring old fucking Radiohead..recent media darlings..but Pearl Jam due to their awful, irritating singer drives me fucking apeshit. Limp Bizkit irks the fuck out of me too..what an accurately named band!
Rap is such corporate garbage these days I refuse to acknowledge it. Like I wrote elsewhere..it died as a genre with Eazy E.
99% of techno sounds alike..because it hasn't even advanced past Kraftwerks 2nd or 3rd album. It's easy to ignore though...when confronted with it I usually just think to myself.."Going UP!"..it's the elevator music of our time.
Decades like the 50's, 60's even the often wretched 70's were times of change in popular music. Two years time usually meant HUGE changes in popular music. But, it hasn't really budged an inch in 10 years or more so far as I'm concerned. Punk rock leads the way in that regard...the older groups are the best.
I really enjoy VH1's "behind the music"..even when it concerns groups that are amongst the absolute worst (Creed for instance). On the other hand I'm sick and damn tired of the 90's marketing notions of "Diva's and "Singer/songwriters".
Damn, I have to try to sleep after this..I'm getting wound up and better stop or else I risk dreaming about some shitheel like Creed or Kid Rock. I haven't ripped into commercial country yet..but that'll have to wait for now.
2/10
I'm in one of those Sunday afternoon "hate humanity" moods. I wish it were Monday and they were all back at their damn jobs..I'm sick of the sight of them. I see people driving around trying to have fun and walking in and out of their apartments on their crucial errands and stuffing their faces with chili-dogs and I'm reminded once again (not that I ever lost sight of the fact) that I'M NOT ONE OF THEM.
I have my own faults and shortcomings..my own fart stained shorts and my own obsessions and pleasures and my own code of ethics..and it all bears little resemblance (except for the stained shorts) to the wants and wishes and weaknesses dreams and values of the members of the human race around me.
I'm trying to remember the last time I befriended someone in public not counting at a job or one of my bands appearances..or a record show or some other hobbie related appearance. 3 years??...nope. We gotta go back way farther than that. Hhmm...the entire time I lived in Philly?? Did I make ONE friend in the neighborhood at all?? No.
OK. Go back further than that...the stretch we lived in Portland from 1988 to 1994. I must've befriended somebody in a bar or some neighbor, right??? No. Fuck no..not one.
We lived in L.A. and Everett Washington and Seattle Washington before that. They were the worst places in terms of making any sort of human contact.
That takes us to the stretch of time I lived in Portland between 1976 and 1985. I was in my twenties. Must've made a lot of friends, right?? Except for people met through our bands, I can't think of ONE.
Now this goes back a ways...but living in Eugene Oregon 1975 I once befriended a fellow at the university bowling alley. I had just rolled a 600 series....an INCREDIBLE feat for me. I only averaged about 145 or so. Anyway, I asked a dude who was hanging around watching if he'd sign the scoresheet to help me convince my roomate it was a real actual 600 series. We wound up talking..and the guy came home with me to drink a few beers. We got along for about 2 hours..and then our new friendship unraveled during a heated argument about music; he was a big fan of Ted Nugent and the Eagles...I defended the Stones and Gene Vincent. He left my apartment pissed off and I never saw him again. I don't even remember his name.
To my knowledge...I swear on beer that was the last friendship I struck up off the job and away from chess tournaments, music venues we were booked at and the like.
Marla is exactly like me when it comes to not being capable of bonding with neighbors and other strangers. In fact, probably 95% of her friends over the years she met through me.
If we had never started playing music publicly I'm not sure how we ever would have made any friends over the last almost quarter century.
It always seems so unlikely I'm gonna get past a strangers religion and politics for openers. Even some of my best longterm friends..I can't handle their willingness to bow to illogical god-notions. I used to try to persuade people I like how much better they'd feel if they objectively looked at what a hoax Christianity is..but since they're part of humanity they NEED it. Some of my best friends over the years never looked dumber than when they talk politics. It's not that I have all the answers..I KNOW what a mess it all is. I KNOW how little I know..but many of them just have to show how "human" they are by reciting a slant they've bought into. I'd rather they talk about wrestling or music or smut or horror movies.
Imagine what it's like when i'm dealing with average people in average taverns. I can either lie and pretend to be one of them or speak up and against christianity and every political party this side of Governor Jesse. I think the NBA and the NFL are loaded with assholes..players, coaches, fans on the sideline. They pray before and after the games to their fucking non-existant god and stand as a living perpetuation of the schoolyard myth that "jocks" are somehow more worthy than non-jocks. The chunk of tavern goer's whose lives are dominated by professional sports are simply too fucking into all that horseshit. 10 minutes of football or bastardball discussion..OK. After that it's fucking DULL in my book. Pop in a wrestling video, man!! Oops..I forgot..that's tabboo. Wrestling is "fake", right?? HA!! You see?? I'd be more likely to run into a kindred spirit at a damn laundry mat.
I don't care for businessmen like you see in white collar bars either. They refuse to let their fucking hair down..and when they do it's always at places like overpriced stripclubs where they grin and drool and look very weak. Like fucking MARKS....NOT like mighty Captains of industry.
If there were a club or tavern or meeting place for agnostic cynics I'd love to know about it. I'd LOVE to attend. But I've never heard of such a place. There are hangouts where people go who like to THINK they're "progressive" or "alternative"..but in my lifetime they've always turned out to be trend followers sitting around showing off their latest piercing, tattoo, Crowley book or hair-do. Hey, I like showing off my new tattoo's..but there's MORE TO LIFE than that. I always wind up wanting to talk to these people about the very things I never want to talk about at "normal" neighborhood taverns. Football...the latest hot political topic. Why?? I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I realize that most of these people have bought into a bogus religion or set of values as much as anybody at the neighborhood bar. Yunno....they're into "anarchy" or some form of radical politics because they read about it in some book and see it as a way of getting attention and getting laid. Line up ten average "sarcastic" early 20's "slacker" types who consider themselves "individuals" for me to subject to a Whiskey Rebel style truth inquisition. I'll have 'em confused and crying and hating me in 10 minutes. They stand no chance against my logic..my superior reason. I have nothing in common with those types.
Where are "my kind" of people???
Probably a few of them are reading this damn diary. In fact, if I may be so bold..I KNOW a lot of them are reading this all the time. That makes me feel good I guess. We may never meet in person..but if you identify with what I've said here today..take comfort in the fact that you're not alone. Sometimes just being reminded of that is all you need to get through one of these crappy Sundays where everybody you see pisses you off more than usual.
2/9
Saturday night in small town Texas. El and I cruised around town for awhile in the official Rebel' caddy and are now back home. Ton's of beer to drink...a 6 pack of red white & blue LONESTAR tallboys to start off with. A MOTORHEAD "best of" has been cranked.
I got a call from our old pal Mike Schuppe who was calling from a hotel in Dallas. He's been flown there for some sort of business related seminar. Too bad there's not enough time to go visit him. It's a good time for me to be thinking about Schuppe. We met him when he answered a musicians classified add we placed in a Portland music rag in 1980 (or was it 1979?). Whereas most people answering those adds are total fucking clowns, Mike turned out to be a longterm valued frigging friend I'd trust with my wallet and housekey, carkey..you name it.
This is on my mind since it's time to run a few adds for musicians.
You never know when somebody calls whether you're gonna be dealing with a pathological liar, thief, asshole, junkie or in a few rare instances somebody you'll be friends with for years.
At least we have a damned good idea of what kind of players we're looking for. We have already talked to a few people wanting to throw their hats in the damn ring. It's best for us if we run a few adds to just see what happens anyway.
It's really hard to get people to understand that the LAST thing we do with prospective bandmembers is actually play. We gotta meet 'em and drink or just yakk first at least once..preferably more often.
I try to warn them about the bad side about playing with us before they get involved. Nobody ever listens to my spiel though. Three months after joining the band they ask us to haul their equipment to a a show..having forgotten already that they were told ahead of time they'd need to haul their own shit. Six months down the road they wonder why they aren't being encouraged or invited to be at the studio during a mixdown session. A year and another session or two later they finally realize we MEANT it and weren't just talking. Three years later they finally realize I couldn't book a show to save my life (it's true!); they've forgotten by this time I told them the night we met.
I'm not describing any old bandmember in particular. Just the tendancy of lots of new or aspiring bandmembers to shrug off whatever we warn them about.
A lot of people who answer adds are the fucking freakiest jerkoffs you ever met in your life...very often they're some of the loneliest people in town and have been tossed aside by dozens of bands. We met a guy back in Portland long ago named "Lonnie" who had tried out for every band in town. All he really wanted to do was have a warm place to mooch beers and drugs I think. 5 minutes after walking thru the door he'd have his guitar out and be serenading you with his latest godawful fucking song..
"I told my Grandma that I was a punk rocker... "
he'd start off..dramatically strumming the guitar.. bud dood a dood..
" and she said..Lonnie..it's bad for the kids"..
bud dood a dood he'd strum the guitar...and screw his face up into a CREED-like serious face...
"so I said..life in the city ain't too pretty......" bud doodle de dum...
"Nobody wants to be your friend"...bud doodly doo doo
And so on. It was such a load of embarassing singing...you were almost happy to stick a beer in his hand to shut him up for a few seconds.
We had run an add for punk rock musicians..and the fucking burnout dummy was in truth SCARED SHITLESS of punk rock. I soon learned this and began to drive him out the door by playing punk rock records.
Why had Lonnie answered our add??? It's a mystery.
But I'll damn well guarantee you in the coming weeks we get an applicant whose into "YES" or "Phish" no matter how blatant we are in our add about what we want to do. I also guarantee we get at least one scumbag trying to scope out a free place to live. And junkies??? I could state in our add "we believe junkies should be castrated at sunrise" and we'll still get a few of them applying.
In the end it's always the endless parade of losers with NOTHING to offer that make whomever you wind up picking look really good by comparison.
I want to gather multiple candidates for both bands together in a bar...because the idea popped into my head that it might be fun to actually watch how they group together naturally. We'll see.
If I spot a burnout just looking for free food, beer, etc. I could make an example of of him in front of the rest...or better yet turn 'em over to the decent applicants to toy with and punish.
The fact is that no matter how rude I am to idiotic band applicants they get it ten times worse from Marla..unless they are an effeminate man; then she loses all perspective! They can do NO WRONG. And I have to be especially wary.
Yeah, the next few weeks are gonna be interesting...
2/7
Sick or not we made our way down to the Continental club last night for the 2nd night of HANK III shows.
It was brought to my attention today that a damn smart friend with finely honed musical tastes wasn't aware the "Hank III" actually was/is blood kin of Hank Willis Sr. and Jr.
Yeah folks..he's Jr's Son..making ol' Sr his Grandpa.
He looks one helluva lot like Gramps too for that matter. But, he knocked back whiskey shots left and right on stage without seeming worse for wear. Hank Sr. was NOTORIOUS for being a rather poor drinker..quick to get fucked up.
DAMN! The women went APESHIT over him.
By the way..his birth certificate name isn't "Hank Williams"..none of the 3 Williams men actually are named "Hank". I won't break Kayfabe and reveal their names here..but if you wanna email me I might be talked into spilling the beans.
Anyway, the women were fanny wigglin' and squirmin' all night at the club..Marla included I suppose. What the hell...I'd be doin' some squirmin' of my own if it had been Tanya Tucker. Hank jumped write off into a few catchy as hell country originals. Between songs he kept announcing ominously that after an hour of country he and his band would"clear the room" by switching to playing metal. He said it with a big grin..I've heard from a lot of friends who've been driven out by it in the past, so...I knew he wasn't kidding around.
He sang a couple songs dedicated to Wayne Hancock who has been a "mentor" of sorts in the past for him. He sang only ONE of Grandpa's songs.."Long Gone Lonesome blues" and none of his Dad's.
I know he and the old man aren't all that close. I recently read a Hank Jr. interview in a local country free weekly and he plainly admitted he didn't see "___" (real name) too often. He seems supportive...but lets face it..he wasn't there for his son when he was growing up. There's bound to be friction. Some of which COULD be a work of course.
Anyway, Hank III's songs are damned good..and it's probably for the best he does things his own way. Remember now, we're not talking about a teenager..he's a grown man well into his 20's.
Marla and I stayed for the "metal" or "hardcore" set..and we both liked it. His fiddle player snazzed things up quite a bit. His "metal" songs still used a standup bass and slide guitar. These definetly AREN"T songs your parents would tap toes to....it's the sorta pounding, driving sparse metal that makes for good wrestling theme entrance songs.
A definite plus towards Hank III's songs during BOTH sets was his tendancy towards songs about getting fucked......TON'S of "drinking/getting fucked up" tunes. It makes pounding metal all that more pleasing when you know the song is for the higest purpose (drinking) and it's sung by a bona fide GOD walking the earth...related by blood to two of the finest singers of all time.
Yeah, I had a helluva time.
I got to yak with Wes from the Bulemic's..but the rest of his boys stayed home or fucked whores or tore up a damn bar.
That's all.
Gotta sign off and devote attention to our SIMS. We've got a single Mom with 7 kids to try to deal with. Our creations are successes.....we've had more than one wild brawl erupt between 'em spontaneously. Hell yeah...
2/5
No WONDER I've gone through so much physical hell over the last few days. I brought it upon myself..I even DESERVE the suffering I've gone through..because I have been untrue to my best friend of almost 30 years.
I need to publicly declare what a fool..a SAP I've been..to arrogantly and willfully ignore the outstretched hand of my most longterm bosom buddy my wisest counselor and life long pal.
I ignored him for a full day and a half ...40 hours all told ..as he waited in our kitchen for me to come to my senses. I rudely pretended like he wasn't even there.
I know, I know. I've had a temperature..a bad cough, fluid in my lungs, burning red eyes, insomnia caused from the gurgling noises in my chest, and I even managed to fart just barely bad enough to soil a pair of shortsbad enough I had to change them.
It's been so bad I've been unable to deal with most email or any phone calls.
The question is this?? In my time of trial..why didn't I turn to "HIM"???
An open apology to my special "friend"...
Dear alcohol....I have foresaken thee..and fallen short of my daily consumption. Twice the cock crowed and found my gullet in want of the strength yee provide. Yeah verily; having recognized the fact I have fucked up bigtime and spoiled a consecutive drinking-day spree numbering into 4 digits I vow to do better and make drastic efforts to pay pennance.
I shall attend the Hank III concert tomorrow night..and publicly attempt to make up for denying thee. I shall repeatedly chant in the car on the drive to Austin:
"Hail Rebel Yell..blessed art though among Kentucky Whiskey's.
Blessed are thy distillers..and all OTHER distillers of holy Southern Whiskey.
Blessed art' thy most famous devoted servant Keith Richards.
Blessed too are the beers I always wash you down with..that I have also sadly besmirched Lo these many hours.
Blessed art "fruit of the loom"..because it rhymes with "fruit of thy womb" in an appropriately sinful manner conducive to your charms.
I now bow and fill my shot glass..rising up and tipping back I beg you to ENTER MY THROAT as of NOW"!
I hope I can be a positive influence on some poor wretch who staggers upon this website after an empty night of "sober" but aimless net surfing and routine lonely "clean and sober" masturbation. Vow to get right with the bottle...look deep into your heart..figure out the words that you as a backslider need to chant...and then GET TO WORK on the nearest jug or stockpile of frosties. You'll receive STRENGTH through the bottle..STRENGTH enough that you can go out and approach a prospective REAL LIVE sex partner with CONFIDENCE.
If you have no need of a sex partner, the bottle will provide whatever it is ye need to fulfill thee. Perhaps ye are instead in dire need of creative inspiration...or plain old shitfaced falling down fun. Let this be your audible drinking chant from this day forth brethren:
"The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide"
"The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide"
"The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide"
"The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide. The bottle will provide"
Yea verily.
2/3
I've been sick as hell.
I slept at one time over the last few days (with a few very brief breaks) for 32 hours straight.
I'm still too sick to be sitting here..but the computer was actually making weird noises to me from across the room. I must be going through a delirium stage. Or maybe alcohol withdrawal for missing a day. YEP! Imagine that!!
Also too sick to send email, look at my Ebay auctions, talk on the phone, take out the damn trash or go to the corner store for asswipe. We're talking FEVER...throbbing headache, bad cough and farts that can turn into bursts of diareah.
I've been so sick I sat through the entire Superbowl today!! Good Gawd!
I've suffered through strange fever's all my life. I learned how to play saxophone believe it or not thanks to a serious fever. I had been playing clarinet..and the band director sent me home over the weekend with a sax and a fingering chart. After studying it for awhile I immediately took ill. As I tossed and turned the chromatic scale from the top of the horn to the damn bottom ran over and over and over in my head. When I got out of bed a few days later..I retained all that drilling I received subconsciously. I picked up the horn and played it like I had been practicing it for weeks.
My band teacher was amazed.
Last night while I sweated and slept uncomfortably my brain decided to serve as a jukebox playing all the songs from the Rolling Stones "Black and Blue" album. Why?? Hell if I know. I haven't heard that one in a good while. I DID read a lengthy Stones book a week or so ago. Why couldn't my brain at least have selected "Aftermath" or "Between the Buttons" or my favorite "their Satanic Majesties Request"??
Back when I was an adolescent before I killed off a few trillion brain cells with booze and hard living I used to have a difficult time getting unwanted tunes out of my head. For instance...the "Brady bunch" theme was once on constant replay cycle in my skull-jukebox. I can laugh about it now, but it wasn't funny then.
For some reason that rarely happens anymore. I just don't walk around with tunes obnoxius or pleasant running through my head. I haven't for years.
One of my fabulous gifts that I've squandered I guess is the ability to play over music in my head..from simple voices to symphony orchestras note for note. I can even add passages at will if I want to or simply concentrate and casually invent music in my head of any genre I'm in the mood to hear.
This came in handy once when I had to learn 15 songs in a few days to play along with a band one of our old drummers played in that I was helping out. A couple times per day at work I'd put my "gift" to use by playing over the practice tape I had been given while simultaneously thinking of my bass part.
What the hell...it possibly sucked when we played live..but not through any fault of my own.
I'm glad it came in handy that time, because for the most part you can place that "gift" up on the shelf next to my trophies (all earned before I was 21) along with a few others. My mathematics "gift". My "natural born salesman" gift.
Oh hell.....it's time to head off for some more feverish slumber. I wonder what LP will be pumping through my cranial speakers tonight? The Monkees "Headquarters"?? "Give 'em enough rope" by the Clash?? HHmmm????
Brilliancy Prize Records
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San Marcos, TX 78666
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