After an extended break from a sparsely updated blogging career, an upcoming event has encouraged me too once again grace the walls of the internet.
Many years ago when youth had first found my bones, I could at times be found behind a set of drums, pounding rhythms for axe wielding compatriots as we butchered our way through a catalog of classic rock anthems. Of our merry band of musical misfits, many have continued to hone their craft, whereas for many years my drums have gathered dust, my only offering to the beat a well struck dashboard or a stratosphere puncturing fist pump.
As our lives become more complicated, each day structured and each thought with a cause, we can easily find reason to pass on activities we once enjoyed. And as days stack upon those which preceded them, the memories are like the whispers of a passing couple in the early throws of love. In quiet moments we remember, and think that we will one day return to these passions, and the thought alone warms our soul. Just long enough for life to once again claim us as one of its own.
I`m here to say that we must resist the urge to let our passions fall to the rearview.
The band's getting back together.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
'50s era house wife cleaning on methamphetamine
A new roommate has joined the ranks of 348 Mystic St AKA "The Alamo". After a summer of inattentiveness I looked around on move-in day to find a sight recognizable for a frat house; the ones without paddles and ascots. So tonight I have put all else out of mind, cued the obscure electronic music and sought out to rectify this mess.
It makes me think about those that look to cleaning as a source of comfort. Not sure if that is ocd or whatever but I can see the point. I look at my off-white linoleum kitchen floor and I see stains and dirt;the surface mocking my ability to maintain a concise lifestyle where I would periodically monitor and correct such transgressions as they appear. This however is not the case nor is it my modus operandi. Shock and Awe is the method I subscribe to. Let the Middle Eastern Angst build up to a boiling point and strike down with weapons of colossal destruction. My kitchen floor has had its fun and now it dosen`t stand a chance against this citrus based cleaning compound. I find comfort knowing that tonight I will turn the lights out on a sparkling floor. Though my idealistic side suggests that this time it will be different, this time i will utilize diplomacy, i will build schools and teach the floor how to keep itself clean so that such horrific janitorial displays will never be unleashed again, I know this is not to be we are too different.
The bathroom is no different. Tonight I have three different cleaners, probably identical but for their scent and sudsing action, and pretty soon I will ascend the stairs and it will hear me coming. It will quiver behind the shower curtain as I slowly remove every object not affixed to the floor and methodically erase the trace of human use with poisonous chemicals likely to make barren my once fertile plain as the fields of middle America In the Dust Bowl;
I feel I am channeling Tom Joad....
Whenever you see a dirty bathroom or a floor filmed with grime
wherever the dustbunnys roll and the toilets have lines
where the trashbarrel has been compressed one too many times;
look in the cleaning aisle Mom, You'll see me.........
It makes me think about those that look to cleaning as a source of comfort. Not sure if that is ocd or whatever but I can see the point. I look at my off-white linoleum kitchen floor and I see stains and dirt;the surface mocking my ability to maintain a concise lifestyle where I would periodically monitor and correct such transgressions as they appear. This however is not the case nor is it my modus operandi. Shock and Awe is the method I subscribe to. Let the Middle Eastern Angst build up to a boiling point and strike down with weapons of colossal destruction. My kitchen floor has had its fun and now it dosen`t stand a chance against this citrus based cleaning compound. I find comfort knowing that tonight I will turn the lights out on a sparkling floor. Though my idealistic side suggests that this time it will be different, this time i will utilize diplomacy, i will build schools and teach the floor how to keep itself clean so that such horrific janitorial displays will never be unleashed again, I know this is not to be we are too different.
The bathroom is no different. Tonight I have three different cleaners, probably identical but for their scent and sudsing action, and pretty soon I will ascend the stairs and it will hear me coming. It will quiver behind the shower curtain as I slowly remove every object not affixed to the floor and methodically erase the trace of human use with poisonous chemicals likely to make barren my once fertile plain as the fields of middle America In the Dust Bowl;
I feel I am channeling Tom Joad....
Whenever you see a dirty bathroom or a floor filmed with grime
wherever the dustbunnys roll and the toilets have lines
where the trashbarrel has been compressed one too many times;
look in the cleaning aisle Mom, You'll see me.........
Monday, June 29, 2009
The Marketing of Auto Repair Shops
There I am purchasing Pelligrino and other assorted dellicacies of italian flavor whence upon my eye catches the verbage on the sweatshirt of the gentleman in front of me. It says (name changed)
Frankies Auto Repair
Specializing in foreign and domestic Repairs
What, does Joey down the street rebuild UFOs?
Maybe I`m missing something.
Frankies Auto Repair
Specializing in foreign and domestic Repairs
What, does Joey down the street rebuild UFOs?
Maybe I`m missing something.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
In defense of our infastructure....
As some of you are well aware, the 2008 debut release of Vampire Weekend is an excellent work which in my opinion all fans of life should own.
I do however take exception with the bands musing of traffic woes into and out of Cape Cod in their song "Walcott".
The line "Walcott, the Bottleneck is a shit show", flies in the face of the successul $60 million Sagamore Rotary project completed in 2006. Accidents have been halved and, though some congestion remains, you would be hard pressed to find anyone categorize passage to or from the Cape as a "Shit Show".
I do however take exception with the bands musing of traffic woes into and out of Cape Cod in their song "Walcott".
The line "Walcott, the Bottleneck is a shit show", flies in the face of the successul $60 million Sagamore Rotary project completed in 2006. Accidents have been halved and, though some congestion remains, you would be hard pressed to find anyone categorize passage to or from the Cape as a "Shit Show".
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The buddy system
I had an interesting thought while on a date last night. Over my dating career my I have met many young women on evenings just like last night where once the microphone was passed I listened intently as they articulated there passions, desires, and dreams to me. Though the uniqueness of people in general results in a new story each night, one begins to parcel out or categorize if for no other reason than to ease recall should there be a second date (however unlikely lately) and I need to show that I was in fact listening and I am actually interested.
What I`m getting at is I think I could start a friend service for the women of the metro boston area. If you are into biking, I know several girls who enjoy a well greased chain. If you like traveling I`m sure I can set u up with a gaggle of girls just waiting to jump on a plane with a well charged camera and big black sunglasses. Name a sport and I've probably dated an avid participant.
I`ve never deleted a number, so ladies if you look around and your friends just aren`t cutting it, feed me some criteria and I`ll set you up with a new BFF.
What I`m getting at is I think I could start a friend service for the women of the metro boston area. If you are into biking, I know several girls who enjoy a well greased chain. If you like traveling I`m sure I can set u up with a gaggle of girls just waiting to jump on a plane with a well charged camera and big black sunglasses. Name a sport and I've probably dated an avid participant.
I`ve never deleted a number, so ladies if you look around and your friends just aren`t cutting it, feed me some criteria and I`ll set you up with a new BFF.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Clark we hardly knew yee
I'm very excited to see Clark Rockefeller back in the news again. This is a true American story. An immigrant travels to America to circumvent the countryside German schnitzel eating life and came to America's shores with a dream of what might be.
Through posturing and a light education Christian Gerhartsreiter ascended to the ranks of high society ultimately adopting one of our financial system's icons, Rockefeller, as his sir name. He woos a high society woman and sires a child, who proves the only foil to his cunning; his love for the child trumping any of his other aspirations.
Crazy, no I don`t believe him to be crazy in the clinical sense. But he had a dream, and dreams are sometimes crazy. Like the dreams of a toddler to one day travel in space, lead a nation or compose music that can tap the springs of human emotion. His dream was to live a life most are only afforded through their birthright. We all entertain aspirations of greatness, and once we cease to wonder what could be, we cease to live.
Dream on Mr. Rockefeller, dream on sir.
(If the murders in California are found to be a result of his handiwork, I take this all back.)
Through posturing and a light education Christian Gerhartsreiter ascended to the ranks of high society ultimately adopting one of our financial system's icons, Rockefeller, as his sir name. He woos a high society woman and sires a child, who proves the only foil to his cunning; his love for the child trumping any of his other aspirations.
Crazy, no I don`t believe him to be crazy in the clinical sense. But he had a dream, and dreams are sometimes crazy. Like the dreams of a toddler to one day travel in space, lead a nation or compose music that can tap the springs of human emotion. His dream was to live a life most are only afforded through their birthright. We all entertain aspirations of greatness, and once we cease to wonder what could be, we cease to live.
Dream on Mr. Rockefeller, dream on sir.
(If the murders in California are found to be a result of his handiwork, I take this all back.)
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The weekend
My life completely follows the rhythm of the seven day week. Monday through Wednesday I hunker down to the demands of work, Thursday through friday I slowly level my gaze to see the approaching weekend and all it promises.
Now for the majority of my young adulthood I have allowed my weekend nights command my waking hours of Saturday & Sunday. And though I have not suddenly become a teetotaler, I have begun to see the great merit to productive activity during the daylight hours of the weekend. However one choses to allocate them, the weekends are truly ours for the taking.
This weekend approaching is shaping up to be a big one. Tomorrow night I leave for parts west to construct a deck for a dear friend's parents. An ambitious venture, I will be accompanied by a few lads and together we aim to be enjoying coffee on the structure by Sunday morning. I will post pictures detailing the success or failure.
Coincidentally, It just so happens that a friend is performing out in western Massachusetts Saturday night, and not an hour away from the job site. We hope to catch the show and all the happy valley has to offer.
Sunday I will be returning home just in time to unload my tools and head back out west to Worcester to catch the most recent reincarnation of the venerable Grateful Dead. I am sure this will be quite a cultural event, though which side of it I will fall on, voyeur or participant, I cannot tell.
Monday I hope to participate in the celebration of Patriots day and the great Boston Marathon. I was previously extended an invitation to a party in Boston, and should this work out, I expect there to be some talent about. Springtime and single, there could be worse things.
So there it is.
Now for the majority of my young adulthood I have allowed my weekend nights command my waking hours of Saturday & Sunday. And though I have not suddenly become a teetotaler, I have begun to see the great merit to productive activity during the daylight hours of the weekend. However one choses to allocate them, the weekends are truly ours for the taking.
This weekend approaching is shaping up to be a big one. Tomorrow night I leave for parts west to construct a deck for a dear friend's parents. An ambitious venture, I will be accompanied by a few lads and together we aim to be enjoying coffee on the structure by Sunday morning. I will post pictures detailing the success or failure.
Coincidentally, It just so happens that a friend is performing out in western Massachusetts Saturday night, and not an hour away from the job site. We hope to catch the show and all the happy valley has to offer.
Sunday I will be returning home just in time to unload my tools and head back out west to Worcester to catch the most recent reincarnation of the venerable Grateful Dead. I am sure this will be quite a cultural event, though which side of it I will fall on, voyeur or participant, I cannot tell.
Monday I hope to participate in the celebration of Patriots day and the great Boston Marathon. I was previously extended an invitation to a party in Boston, and should this work out, I expect there to be some talent about. Springtime and single, there could be worse things.
So there it is.
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