Dialogue

I wrote this when I was 18. I found it in my desk drawer and read it. I was surprised how much I liked and decided I should continue the story.


“Oh sure,” he said as he tossed his finished cigarette out the window of the moving car, “I believe in God, just not the God you know or anyone else knows.”
I looked at him with the physiognomy of one who is too high to recall where he or she left their car keys; puzzled, bewildered and trying desperately not to laugh.
“I created my own God, don’t you see? Why should I believe in a God that loves them, and solves all of their problems? God is someone I can talk to without having to worry about following guidelines or worrying that I did something that HE wouldn’t want me to do. I wanted a relationship with God, but not theirs. That’s the way everyone else’s Gods were created. Bad things were happening to people and they didn’t understand why things were the that they perceived them, so they created Gods. They were the perfect beings that could solve all of their problems as long as they kept him happy, i.e. human sacrifice, prayer and in the case of Christianity, the Bible.
“They created guidelines so that they could keep their god happy. If they had a bad harvest, it was because they weren’t praying enough, if there was an epidemic that killed hundreds of children, it was because they weren’t offering enough human or animal sacrifices to appease him. When bad things happened, they told themselves, ‘Oh well, we better try a little harder to appease him next time. Too fucking bad!’”
“That seems like something Swift would write,” I said as I gazed at my palms and thought about palm readers who get paid to tell people their futures just by looking at the unique designs in people’s hands. Either someone created palm reading in order to justify why we have strange designs in our palm, or they created it in order to justify robbing people of their money and laughing sadistically at the poor saps who believe in that sort of thing. “Hey,” I thought, “Gotta pay the bills somehow.” It beats working in a factory in Cambodia making Gap shirts. I realized then that I was wearing a shirt from the Gap, and remembered seeing a news report that explained how they needed those shitty jobs to supprt their economy. I guess they have to pay the bills too.
He was making so much sense, but I didn’t care. He talked way too fucking much. All I want to do is feel the music enter my ear canal through the sound cable or rope, or whatever it is that’s plugged in. What do I want to do when I get home? Where is home? Where are we, or should I say, where am I? I know he doesn’t care. I recline and try to go to sleep. He keeps talking. I’m used to falling asleep while people are talking to me. It’s almost 2 o’clock. What do I want to eat when I get home? I wish I were home. I look up at the clouds moving gracefully below the moon, catching ghastly glints of light refracting into a billion and one spectrums, all I can see is the face of God in the clouds, melting into something, or someone ugly.
“Do you ever think about whether Satan exists or not?”
That was a hard sentence to say. I haven’t talked in a while and my throat was dry. I think I’ll have a tall glass of water when I get home. “Oh shit,” I thought, “he’s not responding!” Did he hear me? Did I even say it out loud? I have myself momentarily and always for not knowing the answer to my question. I light up a cigarette and look over at him. He’s already got another cigarette lit He always does that. Whenever I light one, he’s already puffing away with his own. What a joke. I begin to regroup enough to ask him again. I reached down to pick up a Mountain Dew bottle that’s probably only a few days old. It’s not very cold, but it is wet. I take a swallow or three. I had to finish the rest of it, he might ask me for some. I ask the question again, but I am interrupted by his prompt response.
“My God only creates positive things, not negative. Besides, my God can’t be wrong, he’s fucking GOD for Chirst sake!” I regretted asking the question already. I really didn’t care whether he believed in the devil or not, I just want him to stop talking.
“If God created an angel, or any other being capable of such powerful evil, that even the creator Himself can’t stop him, what does that say about God?”
“Yeah, but doesn’t there always have to be a negative to a positive? Light and dark, right and wrong, good and evil…” I said realizing that I should have just let the subject fizzle out on it’s own rather than initiate another five minutes of sensible, yet irrelevant ramblings. I didn’t want him to respond. I never wanted him to speak to me again.
He didn’t answer though. I distinctly remember saying that aloud, definitely loud enough for him to hear me. I even enunciated. E-N-N, E-N-U-N-S, E-N-U-N-C-I-A-T-E…Could you use it in a sentence please? Giggle-Giggle-Snort. I hate that fucking snort. It only makes people laugh harder after they do it. Air inhaled through the nostrils is apparently funnier than fart jokes, midgets and Bill Cosby combined.
“Wait, what were we talking about?” He asks, never taking his eyes off the road. I wish he’d look at me occasionally. He’s making me feel sick with that ten-mile stare shit. Cigarettes thrown, windows up, heat on. God it’s hot. I’d sacrifice a goat to justify my existence if only it weren’t so fucking hot in here. I don’t say anything, I just concentrate on the tube of music in my ear and count the orange barrels on the side of the road, put there to keep all of the invisible people inside their cars away from the left side. The conversation ends due to lack of short-term memory. “Wait, what were we talking about?”
He thinks I’m so stoned that I don’t understand what’s going on. But he’s wrong. I know the meaning of life but I wouldn’t tell him in a million years. Huh-huh, you’re so stoned! You’re such a lightweight. Whatever.

Gems of wisdom from Lil Wayne's new mix tape

Lil Wayne is going to jail. But before that happens, he released a new mixtape. LIstening to this and paying attention to the lyrics can reveal some gems of wisdom and hilarity.



















Ugh, now let me start by saying
I don’t like this beat
But I weather the storm
I’m a lightning streak
Weezy F Baby
I do it big wave me
Crazy freaky bitches try to Cirque du Soleil me



Got some new bitches
Tyrell got em laughin
The one that gave me head
Can suck the nails outta caskets

Fucking with me is like stepping on the tail of a dragon

Wet pussy is my cabin
More bitches than a pageant
I keep my house full
Nigga call me Bob Saget

poems

Poems are really
well
written sentences
divided into
separate
lines that
make them more difficult
to read.

procrastination

So I've had this assignment for like 5 weeks. I just finished it. I had all of Fall Break when all I had to do was work, not go to class and two Saturdays when I didn't have work or class. I put it off until just now. All day yesterday I avoided working on it. It took me all of 20 minutes to finish. Did I mention it was due Friday? I just got off work. After an exhausting 8 hour work day with no break, I finally sat myself down and finished it.

Now what?

the morning so far...

My first clue was that it was still dark outside when I walked downstairs. I thought about how daylight savings time is coming up and how it'll probably be dark when I get up from now on. My next clue was that the coffee machine (which was set for 7) didn't turn on. I sighed and turned it on and put some toast in the toaster. My next clue was that my computer clock said 6:35, then my phone clock and the clock next to the stereo. I thought about when I set my alarm last night. The past two days, it's gone off at 7:20 so I wanted to set it back to 7:00. Somewhere along the way, something went wrong.

More recently, I heard my toast pop up in the kitchen. I walked into a big cloud of smoke. The toaster was set on bagel and cooked the little piece of toast to oblivion. It was so torched that it hissed when I ran water over it. So now, I've got my coffee and toast and close to an hour to kill before I have to leave for work. The project that was due today is still not complete. It's close, but not quite there. Oh well.

The house is so quiet and cold, the world so dark outside.

I dreamed about having a conversation with my dad about conception. It had something to do with how art doesn't ask to be created. A story has no say in whether or not it's creator writes it. Then I said that parents should think about that when they have children. From the moment of conception, there's life and the creator has a responsibility to it, just like when art is created. Creators should not take creation lightly. Then for some reason "John Brown's Body" got stuck in my head.

John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, /|
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
But his soul goes marching on.
Chorus:
Glory, glory, hallelujah, /|
Glory, glory, hallelujah,
His soul goes marching on.

He's gone to be a soldier in the Army of the Lord, /|
He's gone to be a soldier in the Army of the Lord,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back, /
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

John Brown died that the slaves might be free, /
John Brown died that the slaves might be free,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down, /
The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down,
His soul goes marching on.

school

It's 7:48 in the morning. I've got a cup of coffee and some cinnamon raisin toast. I've got a big day ahead of me. But the good news is, I don't have to work. I've got tutoring, then I'm going to write up my journal entries, then edit my story for Reading, then start working on the independent project for Social Studies. Then class, then working on the project until its done, or I give up. School is getting to be a pain in my ass.

break

I'm on my break at work. I'm sitting in the front of the store with the sunshine beaming in. I feel tired. Yesterday I ended up driving to Salem three times. I went to South Salem to tutor. Then, I got breakfast and drove home. I watched TV, took a nap, took a shower and got ready for class. I drove back to Salem in time for my 1:10 class. The professor had a flat tire and wouldn't be there. We did a pointless little peer editing thing and that was it. It was 1:30 and I didn't have work until 5. I considered what to do. I could spend a fruitless 3.5 hours sitting around the library, I considered checking out a book and sitting at the coffee shop and reading it, but all of this seemed like a waste of time.

I drove back to Roanoke once again. I started working on my Unit project for Social Studies. I went to Ukrops to get some lunch. And I figured, since everything is 20% off I'd buy some condoms. Just in case I ever get laid. I bought some sushi (which wasn't that great) and drove into Salem for work. Yada yada yada, I'm really hungover today. I split a pitcher with Peanut and we talked about work. It seems like I only ever talk to people from work anymore.

I have to do an independent project for Social Studies tomorrow that I should have done over Spring Break. Hopefully it won't take that long.

Class until 5:30 after work. I really want to skip it...might as well go. I haven't skipped a single class since I started back. I should do that one of these days. It sounds like fun.

crazy

What a crazy, crazy day. I drove into Salem 3 times today. I ate pizza and drank beer while on the clock and didn't even have a full class period. I'm listening to the Decembrists' "The Crane Wife." This album is amazing! I should never let myself forget that. When I lived in Salem, I used to wake up to this album everyday. Loving life now... probably not in the morning.

Fireworks

I'm sitting in the library, killing time between work and class. It's getting colder in here. I'm listening to one of my favorite songs off one of my favorite albums. "Fireworks" by Animal Collective (from 2007's Strawberry Jam). I don't know why I love this song so much. I think the piano/vocal melody just fills me with joy. I don't use that word very often when describing a song, or the way a song makes me feel. Maybe it's too generic, or too strong a word. But it's appropriate for this song.

Fall break is over. All that remains is the headlong rush towards Christmas break, then student teaching. I can't wait until January.

Halloween is only 12 days away. I still don't know what I'm going to be or what I'm going to do. Probably nothing. I definitely want to hand out candy on the front porch again. That was a lot of fun last year.

Two more hours until class starts. I guess I should do some homework or something.

Peanut

I worked with Peanut tonight at the coffee shop. She's one of those people that when I get around her, we just laugh. The more I laugh, the more she laughs. Today, we started laughing when the steam wand spewed steamed milk everywhere. It went all over the counter and the flavor syrup bottles. I said, "It's looks like a snowman got shot" and we lost it. We laughed for like 20 minutes about that. We talked about our lives in Salem and the coffee shop and how much it has affected our lives.

I told her she's where I was when I was 22. Night manager at the coffee shop. We talked about her future and the future of the coffee shop if both of us ever leave forever. We share that common love for the place and the fear of what it could become. I had forgotten how much I like her. She could always affect my mood when I went into work. We used to only work together for about an hour a day and if she was in a good mood, that set the tone for the rest of my day. I remember when she was mad at me and I was miserable at work. It didn't matter who else was working with me that day.

We started closing together on Sundays. I realized how much fun work could be. We didn't worry about finishing everything by 10 o'clock or following my usual closing schedule, we just talked and had fun. I told her that she's been able to get as far as she has in life because of who she is. Because she's such a good person, a hard work and so good to be around, she has been able to get and keep jobs at Mac and Bobs and the coffee shop.

I wish I could work with her everyday. She makes me smile while I'm at work and even thinking of working with he makes me smile. She's what I love about Salem and what I'll miss most when I move one. When I'll be able to walk into the coffee shop and not know a single person working there. They'll have no idea how many countless hours I've spent at that place. But everyone has memories about places. Eventually, attachments to places fade and there's nothing left but memories. For now, though I'm attached to that place and to Peanut.

Where the Wild Things Are

I stood outside the theater waiting on Brett, Reid and Jenny. I watched the people go by, stunned, smiling, laughing, disillusioned. They were not the rowdy laughs of kids dangling off their mother, but older kids. Not quite adults, but somewhere in the range of 18-30 years old. The hype for this movie began over the summer. I got chills when I saw the trailer for it during the new Harry Potter movie and Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" was playing over stunning images of wild things running, jumping, smashing trees and having a general rumpus.

Then the ads started popping up on music blog sites like Pitchfok.com and Stereogum.com. The soundtrack was to be done by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs Karen O. It was clear that this movie was being sold to another group of kids...Indie Kids.

The movie itself has great indie appeal. A child, rebellious of his mom, distant from his unseen father, seeks to escape from a world where he is mis-understood and under-appreciated. He lives in fear that the sun will die and comes to the conclusion that he too would eventually die. He makes an attempt at contact by starting a snowball fight with his sister and her cooler, older friends. He makes a connection, and for a while everyone is laughing and you get the sense that the world isn't all tragedy. Then, one of the older kids jumps and lands on Max's igloo with him inside, destroying it and leaving him in tears.

He reacts passively, by destroying her room and smashing a gift he had given his older sister. Then, he curls up in his bed to pout about it. I was the youngest of three so that happened to me more times than I can even count. Even today, I occasionally feel that need to connect with other people, that need to reach out and be a part of a crowd or the need to feel cool. The pain of rejection doesn't ever change no matter how old you get.

The appeal of sailing away to an island where you can be whatever you want to be is universal. I think adults do it everyday. More often than ever. There are people who even play video games where they can be conquerers of demons and defenders of princesses in mystical lands where they become a hero. There are even games where you can become an ordinary person that is different from you. You can make up who you are, what you do and how popular you are. People make up on-line personas and become somebody different when chatting with people. There are people who are only gay when they travel to different cities or different countries where they can be an anonymous, single gay man on the prowl, rather than a miserable husband and father with a mortgage.

Max sails away to a new world and meets new, scary wild things. After sizing each other up and deciding whether to eat each other or not, it takes him about 20 seconds to start spouting off his new identity. King of Vikings, ruler of lands, special powers. He allows a crown to be put on his head, holds up a scepter and begins telling his subjects what to do.

Max enters their world already in a state of flux and disarray. Carol, the angriest and loudest of the beasts is destroying all of their houses. They have taken sides and Carol is left alone with only his sidekick to back him up, but even he seems unsure. You see bones of other kings in the fire, crown sitting atop the ashes of a fire pit. Max is not the only king to try to bring order to their chaotic world.

What a world to inherit and become ruler of. The subjects are fussy, needy, moody, irritable, jealous, impossible to please, insecure, impetuous and nervous. For an adult, these are the people we have to deal with every day. I thought of being the manager of an office and having all of these different personalities to please when all they think about are their own problems and worries. They pick on each other, they ignore other, they have affairs, they worry what other people think of them and think that others are constantly talking about them. Max has to make all of these creatures happy somehow. A task that the noblest of leaders could never achieve, no matter how many dirt clod wars or projects. New friends come into the group and you realize that the strongest of fraternal bonds can be torn to shreds in an instant.

I felt sympathy for Max who only wanted to build the perfect world for his new friends. A world free of all the problems. A world where everyone would work together everyday and sleep in a real pile every night. Idealistic, yes. But what more does an 8 year old have other than idealism? Max visits this "adult" world, but realizes that it's not time yet. He can't handle the responsibilities and the pressure of leading a group. Fortunately for Max, he knows that at any point he can go back. It's not time for him to discard his idealism. It's not time for him to take off his wolf pajamas and put on a suit and tie and head into the cynical world of adulthood.

In the end, Max realizes that the wild things are untamable, despite his best efforts and leaves. He becomes one of many kings to have come and gone from the island. He leaves it in the same state he found it. The wild things may have learned lessons from his reign, but probably not. They had fun, they had drama, they built another home, which Carol will probably begin destroying as soon as Max disappears over the horizon and the story comes full circle. Max learns that wild things can be loved, feared and hated, but they can never be tamed.













The movie reflected all of my regrets about my childhood and fears for the future. I, like many other 18-30 year olds am in between the childhood and adult stages. By all rights, I should be an adult, but I still have the freedom to go on a wild rumpus or act recklessly. But, I know that soon, I'll have all of the responsibilities of a real adult. My resolve is to hold on to that child-like sense of wonder and imagination that is too-often quelled by all of the self-doubt, insecurity and fear of adulthood. We are all lost boys. Afraid to grow up, too cool to be children and we're having too much fun to want to be adults. That's why this movie appeals to us.

Plus, the kid wears Converse. How utterly ironic.

daydreams

The sun shone in through the front of the coffee shop for a few minutes this morning. I realized how sick of that place I am, and yet I'm drawn to it and the thought of not working there makes me sad. I've been working there so long it's as much a part of me as this house or my friends. Then I realize I can't work there forever. I make minimum wage. I feel belittled sometimes. I daydream during work. Try to think of anywhere but standing behind the counter.

When I pull into the parking lot of South Salem Elementary, I feel normal. I don't try to imagine that I'm somewhere else. I try to imagine myself there, standing in front of a bunch of kids listening as I read them a book, or teach then a new word. I'm not making mocha frappes for people or cleaning the toilets or washing dishes.

But for now, it's just scraping by. Nickels and dimes, literally dropped in a tip jar. Counting up change and buying that much gas with it.

Sleep is a wonderful comfort. Warm blankets and oblivion.

I miss the stash...

rainy day

I just went for a run. I was sitting in my room wearing a hat, sweater, slippers and a scarf. and pants too. I figured some exercise might help. The heat's not on in the house. My little bathroom heater is filling my room with hot dry air. My life lately has been filled with alternating extremes of dread and hope. At times I feel scared that everything I'm doing in life is useless and that I'll never be able to succeed or make any money. Then other times, I think that everyone's life is filled with ups and downs.

I think about all the people with families depending on them losing their jobs. I think about the people making less then me raising a family. How do they do it?

I think of them and I feel hopeful. We have to feel hopeful, don't we? Even if it's empty hope it beats working some shitty job for minimum wage thinking that nothing better will ever happen.

I think I'm getting fat and that I've always been fat and never done anything about it. Then I think about people who don't have time to think about their weight because they're working too hard or trying to feed their families and the only thing they can afford is cheap, fattening foods because fresh food is too expensive.

I think about teaching and how it's my light at the end of the tunnel. I truly believe it will solve all my problems. It will give me a steady paycheck, keep me on a daily routine, weekends off, vacation time. It will give me a reason to be excited about waking up in the morning.

I think about when life slows down and nothing matters more than simple joys like a warm coffee in your hands or a hot shower. Or even having a roof over your head on a cold, rainy day.

The mind is always occupied with something...it might as well be something positive.

New music

I've gotten into a lot of new music recently. Mostly because of Pitchfork.com's list of the best albums of the decade. I realized that in the first half of the decade, I was kinda blind to the whole "good" or "indie" scene. I also didn't listen to rap (except for Eminem). So, I've played a bit of catch up and gotten into some cool stuff.




Modest Mouse- The Moon and Antarctica
I always assumed that I didn't like Modest Mouse's older stuff. I really liked We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank and I assumed that their older stuff is way more punk and Isaac Brocks screaming. This album is full of gems. Especially "3rd Planet." The whole album makes me feel like I'm in some alternate universe free of gravity and this feeling of loneliness.














The Avalanches- Since I Left You
This is like a combination of Girl Talk, Incubus, ambien, Sufjan Stevens and Jay-Z. It flows like a rap album, the samples are varied and totally obscure and the beats make you want to dance during any and every decade, as long as you're doing something bad.













The Streets-Original Pirate Material
There's something charming about hearing this guy spit about smoking weed and playing Grand Torismo (on the hardest setting), ordering pizza, getting take away food and taking the piss out of the government. Unlike most rappers, he doesn't hate on specific people. Mostly, he rants about unfair policies in the government and how they make criminals out of non-violent, peaceful people (aka pot smokers). All of this while the same piano "loops over and over and over."













Outkast- Stankonia
Just a brilliant rap album. There will never be another album like it. It's the kind of album that people still bought as a CD instead of a download. The kind of album that takes you back and makes you forget the upheaval that occurred when George Bush took office and bombed Baghdad, then declare that their mission was accomplished. It's sad that 9 years later we realize that there never was a mission.












Hercules and Love Affair
This album is full of great dance music. This is more of a feeling album. I don't need to pay attention to what they're saying, it just makes me feel lighter and helps me forget my stress and worry. The songs with Antony Hegarty (from Antony and the Johnsons) are particularly touching. Such beauty and ambiguity in his voice. I can relate to that.













Basement Jaxx- Rooty
Again, great dance stuff. Electronica afro-beats and such. Just great.














I'll be posting more albums as time goes on. I just wanted to mess around with the format. Perhaps I'll do my own list. Everybody loves lists, right? How about a countdown?

Fallen Leaves

A man recently got beaten up in New York. People from Virginia assume that kind of thing happens all the time. People in Virginia get beaten up all the time. Sometimes it's a white guy beating up a white guy. Sometimes its a black guy beating up a black guy, sometimes it's a black girl beating up a white guy, or any combination of people. Most of the time, these people suffer penalties for their crimes. A weekend in jail, a fine. Depending on the circumstances.

A gay man recently got beaten up
in Queens, New York.
Beaten and hospitalized
days after Congress passed new "hate crime"
legislation.
Now, it's more illegal to beat up a gay person.
It's more illegal to beat up someone
because of who they are.

His lungs are collapsed
plate in his jaw, ribs broken
but stable. Two young men
on one old man.
Attack in the parking lot.

On a lighter note, Kenny Rogers and Wyclef Jean did a song together. How was I not aware of this?

Lots of free time. It's fall break. Nothing but work and hanging out in the cool weather. Watching the leaves change in an idyllic neighborhood. Telling myself I'm going to go for a run later, then never do. Walking is better anyway. Walking to the bar, kicking fallen leaves off the sidewalk.

comments

I've been checking regularly on the website current.com. I usually check on the show Infomania which dissects the news from the week, and has editorial pieces on things like twitter. My favorite portion, of course is "That's Gay" where they discus a particular facet of gay culture as it's displayed on TV. Most recently, "Coming Out." Brian Safi, the host, listed several ways to come out, like the "Coming Out Kamikaze" where you reveal that you're gay, and call someone else out too. Like, "I'm gay. and so are you!" Funny stuff.

Current.com also posts news from other sites. They might not always be the biggest news stories, but they take stories from a broad variety of news websites, including science. Below each news story, there's an opportunity for people to comment on them. Now, I've never been one to make comments on these sorts of things. I've just never seen the point on anonymously posting an ill-informed opinion about whatever the news story is. Mostly, it seems the people that do base their comments on their emotion reactions. They become so overcome by reaction that they fail to recognize that half the words they've written are misspelled and sometimes their comments don't even make sense.

The same goes, of course for YouTube where people become ever more indignant and they don't even have to read anything to become enraged, which I guess drops the intelligence level for the people posting the comments. The funniest part of all of these comments is when people comment on other people's comments. I particularly like the ones where some liberal will make a statement about freedom of speech or something and someone will say, "you shoud move to north korea where people lke you fit in!"

For Example:
wow, gore vidal is an idiot. movies have no thought? america is a dictatorship? habeas corpus no longer exists? america does not follow due process of law? and my favorite... his definition of "liberal"... favoring legislation tending toward greater democracy? really? that's the definition of liberal? what a joke. more like "favoring legislation, period." look at the all black suit and his smug "things fall apart" opening statement. this guy has his head completely up his ass.

ChuckBleedinNorris (3 days ago) 0 Reply
You sir, are a fucking idiot.

Gore Vidal is one of the most brutally honest and accurate men ever to walk this planet.

You will never ever hope to hold the amount of wisdom this man does in his little finger.

Mattenlamb (2 days ago) +1 Reply
Excellent grammar, fucktard.

So what began as an interview with an aging intellectual who has lived through 70+ years of life 2 World Wars, Vietnam, a dozen or so presidents, was good friends with John F. Kennedy, etc has degenerated into a shouting match between a fucktard, and a fucktard with poor grammar. What compels people to make such comments on a Gore Vidal interview must be the same reason why they would plaster their car with bumper stickers explaining, in detail, their political opinion on everything. These same people, to top it off, pay an annual fee to have a license plate explaining some detail about their life. Like " IHRTMYKD" I heart my Kid? or I hurt my Katie? I don't get it.

Why do people believe that anyone gives a crap about their opinions?

Please remember, there is a Comments section on this blog. Feel free to express yourself, fucktard.

the ubiquitous apple

I was looking through pictures of bands that played at All Points West and something jumped out at me from a picture of MSTRKRFT. In between the two hip looking DJs with headphones strewn around their necks like stethoscopes glowed a white apple with a bite taken out of it. Their bridge between live music and the ubiquitous digital world: the MacBook. Last night we went to see Björk's Voltaic at the Grandin and even the Icelandic queen of pop had a MacBook working for her. Lurking in the background behind her 12-piece horn section dressed like they wandered into a Dr. Suess book from Mars. Even Wilco, the quintessential alt-folk twangers implement the MacBook in their live show.

How has the MacBook become just as much a part of a band's live show as the drums or guitar?

Jay-Z's new album boats the Death of Auto-Tune, a digital voice modifier used in every dumb song you've heard on hip-hop/pop radio over the past year. Musicians have always used new technologies to enhance their sound going back to the electric guitar, distortion pedals, drum machines, etc. Even Pink Floyd embraced and mastered the synthesizer leaving thousands of stoners dazed and confused for generations after. Then came sampling machines allowed hip-hop artists to loop previously recorded samples and add a beat to it. The difference with Auto-Tune is that it sounds awful and is really annoying. Even T-Pain on the rap spoof "On a Boat" by the Lonely Island satirizes himself by using this ridiculous voice modifier to sing things like "Never thought I'd be on a boat" and "Poseidon!" The cameo adds authenticity to the Jewish boys' rap song but also makes it occasionally unbearable to listen to, despite it's hilarity.

The MacBook provides a similar advancement in music-digital conglomeration. Wilco uses the computer to play the sample from Yankee Hotel Foxtrot to start off "Heavy Metal Drummer." This is ironic considering the song is about the innocence of seeing a rock 'n' roll band and our infatuation with drummers. Is this innocence lost? Is the glowing apple going to become so ubiquitous that we won't even notice when bands use one onstage? I'm okay with it as long as Jeff Tweedy does use Auto-Tune on "Impossible Germany" the next time I see Wilco live.

Also, kudos to Jay-Z for using his popularity to do some good in this world. If he can single-handedly (with the help of Kanye West, abuser of Auto-Tune) eliminate the use of Auto-Tune in the world of hip-hop, maybe he can help make the Prius the next Escalade.

I'm forcing myself to write something, but all that's coming out is banal and trite words that sound nostalgic, but written for no one, like a Coca-Cola ad that tried to get you to think back on old Christmases. Mom, dad, son and daughter gathered around a lit tree with twinkling lights, all waiting for Santa Claus to bring them presents. I write advertisements for myself to convey a certain feeling I'm trying to convey. It's summer and I've taken the day to do nothing. I haven't left the house and I'm feeling restless. I want to leave the house and do something, but I don't actually have anywhere to be or anything to do.

The summer is half-way over. The first summer I've spent in Roanoke in 5 years. No camp, no Europe, no moving, just living and enjoying the downtime. I need to focus on making smarter decisions in life. Not in any grand sense, just taking more time to think things through on a day-to-day basis and stop acting like I'm invincible.

I saw Leah last weekend. At one point she asked her brother to give a ride to the car rental place, completely forgetting that I had a car and would gladly give her a ride. She was so used to John in Munich, taking trains or walking everywhere. We drank decaf coffee and slept all day. I took her to the Budget rental and gave her a hug. Once again, I said good-bye not knowing when I would see her again.

As of right now, there are five water glasses and a mug up in my room.

Here We Go Magic

I'm listening to an album by a band called Here We Go Magic. After watching the video for "Tunnelvision" on pitchfork, I ran straight over to the iTunes Store and bought it.

The house is empty. Brett and Jenny are out of town and the neighbors moved out two days ago. It's weird feeling this solitude after two years of having two roommates. I remember in Munich I loved having the apartment to myself. They were rare, but well enjoyed. Now I find myself almost a year later in an empty house 4 times bigger than my last apartment in America. I can't believe it's been a year. This year has gone by faster than my year in Germany. Now I'm back in school, a year away from being certified to teach. A lot has changed, but mostly they've stayed the same. I told myself when I was getting ready to come back, I told myself that it would be impossible to expect my old life to be there when I got back. Meaning that things have changed and I shouldn't be surprised or angry if things weren't the same. But, other than a change of venue, life keeps rolling on. I still have the great group of friends, a room to call my own and music. Tons and tons of music.

Dr. Whitt asked me what my "Threshold for music was." Or how long I could listen to music without a break. I told him 24 hours. Non-stop. Which, in a way is true. I fall asleep listening to music, wake up to it and insure that it's around me as much as I can during the day. It's like breathing. It's always happening and the only times you notice you're doing it is when there's not enough or too much. Silence is like having asthma.

Leah's in the United States. I read her letter which was "SWAK" earlier and I thought about seeing her again. I can't imagine Leah without Munich, or Munich without Leah. I'll probably start smoking again while I'm with her. Beer and cigarettes at the Dom.

Here We Go Magic

dirty projectors

Music so good I had to blog about it. The Dirty Projectors "Bitte Orca" is incredible. It gives me chills every time I listen to it. It doesn't come out till the ninth (and I have 9 emusic downloads saved up for it) but you can hear it on npr.org/music. I wrote this super long blog earlier but it got wiped out due to shoddy wireless connection.

Go Music!

Tuesday

Sitting at the coffee shop, on my laptop. What a cliche am I. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire sitting on the table. Line of people waiting for their coffee and whatever. Listening to Andrew Bird. Talked to Luke last night and he put on "Plasticities" and I watched him drift away into musical stoner bliss. I can't blame him. I feel high whenever I listen to that song. I feel the same way listening to dozens of other songs. I listened to an Animal Collective concert this morning on NPR.org I haven't gone on their music site in a while. Turns out, they have tons of concerts to download through iTunes. What an amazing public service NPR provides for the world.

It's one of the things that "White People" like in that book by that guy. David Sedaris is also on the list. However, he claims it has more to do with socio-economics and class than race. I'm inclined to agree with him.

Summer is approaching, if not already here. The morning air was crisp and cool. I sat on the front porch and drank coffee and read like I used to do at Glen Mary whenever I'd wake up early enough. Luke said life was going well for him. Financially stable, happy, job security, and so on. He commented on how much more myself I am compared to last year. Having a lot to do with the studded arm band I bought from *gasp* Hot Topic which South Park recently made fun of, so it's on everyone's list of things to make fun of. I told him that I just feel like saying fuck you to everyone and just being myself. (again with the cliche). But whatever. Isn't it impossible to be cliche? Isn't impossible not to conform to something? I think people are just a product of their environment and whatever other people around them are doing seems normal to them, so that's what they do. If everyone around you sits around and drinks and smokes, and that's what you do, then you're just conforming to what's around you. Even trying to break out of the mold seems cliche. People putting their hair in dredlocks, shaving their heads, driving SUVs, mowing their lawns a certain way. Even getting married, having kids, and working until retirement is a form of conforming.

I guess what I'm saying is that it's okay to conform as long as your principals are never questioned.

Trying to write more. If there's anyone out there that still reads this blog. Not that I'm writing for anyone but myself, but if you're still reading. Thanks.

choices

We're all forced to make decisions in our lives. Some of them are good decisions that help life move along. Some of them make a great impact on your life, and others change very little. Some of them change everything. I'm faced right now with one of those decisions. Tim wants me to do my student teaching next Spring which would allow me to enter the job market in the Fall of 2010. For me, decisions have always been made at critical junctures in my life. Very few of them have come with long-term goals attached. Here I am now...where do I want to be in two years? All I can think about now is where to work this summer. I think it's hard to wrap my mind around having an actual job where I don't have to write my time down on a time sheet or clock in on a time clock. Actually being a paid professional with high expectations and responisibilies.

I know we don't all get to make the decision that we're going to grow up. Most people are forced into it. They have a kid, they land a high-pressure job, they meet someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with and get married and that makes them "grown up." I've made the decision to "grow up" but I know that I've got some time before I actually have to be.

Money is one of the main reasons I wanted to be a teacher and now it's the one thing that's slowing down the process. Now I just need to find someone who will give me more of it and I'm on my way. I voted for Change, now let's see if I can get some of it.

guten morgen Sonntag

I stayed up late listening to records and drinking beer by myself. Drinking alone. Playing records, pretending that I'm DJ'ing a dive bar. Favorit perhaps. Where Luke and I would go and hastle the DJs asking if they had Yeasayer or Panda Bear. I woke up at 6:45, disoriented as usual. My body wondering why it's being disturbed at such an unusual time of the day. I got dressed and stumbled out of the house, feeling tired but not hungover.

The air was misty and clean. It's been raining for the past four days and it finally cleared out leaving a residual dampness typical of early spring. There was fog covering the distant mountains creating the perfect backdrop for the little city of Roanoke tucked away in the mountains.

I drove by Mill Mountain. The star had been left on, mysteriously. It usually gets turned off at midnight. It glowed eerily in the pre-dawn haze. I brewed the coffee and started the day, feeling better than I should have. The usual crowd of homeless people gathered around the back door. Already a faint smell of cigarette smoke mixing with the brewed coffee and espresso. I can't help but pity them. They come in the coffee shop looking for a place to sit after the rescue mission makes them leave. They remind me of Steinbeck's or Kerouac's America. Someone ordered a slice of lemon cress pie with his cup of coffee. That's such an old tradition, I thought. Coffee and pie for breakfast. Kerouac survived on coffee and pie as he treked accross America, looking for...whatever it was he was looking for. They buy coffee for each other. I imagine them hunkering down in the shelter after a long day walking around the city. One passing the other a flask or a cigarette, or some small favor that meant the world to the other and offering to meet up the next morning so the favor could be returned.

I wonder where the paths diverged that separated me and them. How am I in a warm bed writing on a laptop and they're bedraggled and tired with nothing but a jacket on their back? I say I pity them, but aren't I the one serving them coffee and cleaning up after them? They are a part of the city, a part of humanity. I have to remind myself of this as a man asks abour our refill policy, settling on a cup for here, then asking for his free refill and taking a cup to go while I wasn't looking. I finished up the shift feeling tired, but reminded of how lucky I am to be behind the counter.

Fruhling kommt wieder...

The air is cool and crisp, but not like it feels in the fall. It's fresh with cool dampness interspersed with pockets of warmth. I fell alive and awake. It's amazing the impact that the seasons have on our dispositions. The pace of life has finally settled into a rhythm I can keep up with. It's not full of the extremes that I'm used to. I'm not moving again in the summer. The Spring used to remind me of when I would pack up and leave. Moving to the next appartment, house, cabin, Oldsmobile. I still have the feeling that I'm going to abandon whatever I'm doing and trying something else. I know I'll have to find another job, but I'm not moving. In a way, it's calming. I'm not thinking about starting to pack everything up as part of my spring cleaning.

In other words, I feel good.

Es Schneit!!

I worked this morning. Coffee for people. Lattes, Mochas, Large to go, Medium Mill Mountain and a everything bagel toasted with cream cheese to go, coffee for here and a sesame seed bagel EXTRA TOAsted with cream cheese and butter. So tired of this. Allman Bros. playing. Coffee and a peanut butter english muffin to get me through. Work was obnoxious. Something that got in the way of my sleep like a loud neighbor or having to get up to pee five mintues before your alarm went off. That was work for me today. I came home and felt exactly how I wanted to. Cup of coffee, then a cup of tea. Flight of the Conchords on TV. Relaxed, on Spring Break. Recliner time. Warm oatmeal and tea on a cold rainy day.

Snowing now, up in my room. I feel warm, like in my fort. My day will be interrupted by my dream of work in the morning. All I think about is what I'll have for breakfast tomorrow. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. Sausage, Egg and and Cheese. Everything bagel with cream cheese? Cappuccino? the smell of coffee reminds me of why I work at a coffee shop at all. The reason I've always loved it. I feel like I'm part of a thousand year old tradition, serving coffee to the cold, tired and hungry masses, eating depression-bagels and talking about how much better it's going to be. I can stand back and watch the documentary as its happening. people talking about the Bail-out and Obama's new budget. I stay informed and opinionated through these people's conversations. But for now, I already long for those mornings getting a coffee and a cruller on the way to class in the cold rainy morning. There's something about this moment that feels good. It feels like I am where I should be; moving forward in the right direction.

Oh and by the way, it's snowing for the first time all winter....

pre Spring Break woooohooo!!

Keeping up with the previous pledges, I am once again writing in/on my blog. It was a long day today. I woke up early and went downstairs to make coffee and have breakfast. It was a day that felt like spring. I had left my window open the night before so I woke up to fresh, moist clean air and started my day with a feeling of rejuvination. I emptied the dishwasher, washed the dishes and ate cereal and drank coffee. I got dressed and left with plenty of time to stop by the library before class. I had just seen my professor two nights earler at a bar. She was on a date with a bald man in a coat and tie. They seemed really happy together. I sat at the bar, casually, non-awkwardly. I said "Cheers" when I got my drink and waitied for Whitney. Class got out early and as I walked to my car, I heard my name. Whitney was standing outside of Trexler with a pack of cigarettes in hand. We talked for a bit about the brake and chatted up a Campus Safety officer while standing under a magnolia tree in the rain.

I went to the optometrist to pick up my contacts, then on home to Roanoke. I decided to go to the coffee shop to pick up my paycheck and a mocha (with an extra shot) before work. Jenny requested a bagel and I went behind the counter to fix my drink. I stopped by the house to pick up Jenny and we were on our way to an incredibly long, very tiring day of work.

I worked with the K-2 kids today. I always have more fun when I'm with them. Today, I felt at ease the whole day. It was strange considering how chaotic it was with K-5, around 70 kids all in one room together the entire 6 hours. I watched Garfield the Movie while taking care of a sick kid, ate pizza and drank soda. Then I played dodgeball for about 2 hours and laughed at how ridiculous kids can be. Then I built a lego house with a Kindergartner. I left work with a positive glow about me. All I could think about was getting on the treadmill and running. I left work with the energy to run almost 3 miles, happily...listening to music and feeling energetic. I came home and watched Flight of the Conchords and ate Pizza Rolls while drinking beer. I felt so relaxed and at ease. I played with Mog and felt happy that he's around. I love watching him play and grow up.

It was the perfect end to a perfect week. I had a great day hanging out with Whitney on Wednesday. We had an amazing day. We started out with bacon, egg and cheeses from Hardee's with a Diet Coke. We watched Will and Grace, as per usual and she talked about her boy problems and I talked about mine. We went to the library and worked for a while. She went to class and I finished all my work for Math and went back to her place with an iced soy vanilla latte in hand. I took a hit from the bong and made a sandwich. I turned on Top Chef and relaxed. After a while, I got inspired to fix her toilet seat, which I had planned to do for 2 months now. I bought her the toilet seat around New Years. I felt good after fixing it, so I decided to do more good deeds for my friend. I cleaned her toilet and did her dishes. More relaxation earned. She got back from class and we went for a walk.

It was warm and Springy. The sun was shining and everything was drying out after the morning rain. We walked through the neighborhood where I used to go running. Up past the golf course and around where the park is. We sat on the swings and I climbed up on a rock and watched her. We started to walk back and took the path under the bridge, jumping on rocks. We got back to her apartment and I had milk and cookies and she had a sandwich. She watched TV for a while and I listened to music and read Rolling Stone. Then I headed off to class. I felt the inspiration to teach once again. The girl that was presenting her lesson plan brought in M&M's as part of her teaching operations lesson. Then we played a game where a multiplication problem was called and we had to swat the right answer with a wand. I left feeling great.

That's when I saw my professor at the bar...Tuesday night Jenny and I hung out which was awesome. It's been great working with her lately. I get to spend more time with her and I feel like we're friends again. Before we were roommates, we were friends and it's been good to reconnect on that level again.

6:45 comes earlier. Sleep now...

Lost & Found

I was sifting through a box of old CDs, mostly empty CD cases, the actual discs lost or misplaced whenever they became obsolete and I moved to Germany. Most of them only exist in CD form, not on any iPod or computer or burned CD that I have, but actual CDs with the art work and everything included. Strange, I know. So I started sorting through and finding albums that I had bought used from Plan 9 and had forgotten about. I found a Little Feat CD that my dad used to play in his car when he would take my brother and I up to Paint Bank to the cabin. Memories came flooding back. The album lived in my car for a while and I eventually put it on my iPod. What surprised me was the order of the songs. I thought something was wrong when I looked at the tracklist. What I thought was Side 1, Track 1, was actually Side 2 Track 1. I had been listening to the album from the middle onward on the tape basically my entire life. How quaint, I thought and I smile a little bit remembering the song "Let It Roll." My first favorite song. I was probably around 8 years old. There was something about that song that sparked something inside me. I feeling of freedom and rebellion, the feeling of being able to jump off the edge of Potts Mountain and fly all the way down into the towns and valleys below.

I still get that feeling from that song...from the whole album. Since then, I've been finding other lost treasures still in CD format deemed obsolete because it's not on my ipod. As I write this, I keep looking for the time on the computer screen even though there's an analog clock on my desk. My moleskine remains almost as neglected as my blog. I started writing it in Amsterdam on the way back from Werchter. It's sad how empty it is.

I check Leah's blog just about every day, waiting for her to post something new. But, here I am, writing in my blog once every 4 months or so. It feels old and familiar to write on the blog. When I started it in Munich, I wrote for people at home, so they could keep up with my life. Now that I've moved, I haven't done the same for people I left in Munich (if anyone still checks it). So, I'll make a pledge, or a few pledges.
1) I'll start writing more on my blog, and writing about more personal stuff
2) I'll revisit an album that I love but haven't heard in a while (starting with Weezer's "Blue Album")
3) I'll read more books that aren't assigned

so, just the three I guess. But I do plan on writing more and hopefully I'll find more music, inspiration, love and friendship that have been boxed up and stored away somewhere.