Monday, April 21, 2014

of gyros, brawls, records, and resurrections

Things that happened this weekend.

driving around running errands, listening to Subrosa with a fellow lover of big riffs who's not so much a friend so much as an enjoyable occasional acquaintance because we only hang out when circumstantials bring us together but when they do we have a great time.
Worked Record Store Day again this year and marveled at the weirdness, got paid in vinyl and was introduced to this fine band.
Ate gyros and skipped stones at the metroparks with the Kentinistas, listened to Creedence, basked in the sun, plotted future summer adventures mostly involving baseball games and MST3K nights.
 Hung out with family.
Found out there was a pretty big melee up the street from me thanks to some crazy-ass hardcore youth crew kids, not, as the commentariat on the local media newsrag suggests, "death metal wannabe thugs and their groupies." Sad that Metalsucks has a better summary than the local news outlet. Somehow end up on an 80's hardcore kick anyway even though my days of those kinds of pits are far behind me.
Me and Neighbor heard about the incident via the cops at our favorite diner, decided to drive past the aftermath, being all nosy and making Warriors and Outsiders jokes because no one got killed as far as his Spacephone told us and there were a bunch of straightedge kids carrying on a scene that I came late to ten years ago but they still like all those bands with the breakdowns. The party antics of The Supersuckers opening for the Toadies promoted a more traditional rock and roll lifestyle and Eddie Spaghetti live comes across as Lemmy Via Texas and it was fantastic even if we were all the way in the back and the crowd was mostly there for the headliner and wasn't sure what this tongue-in-cheekness was all about.

Sunday morning I wished I was in a better mood playing songs but such is life. Came home and slept on the porch, went to the folks' and ate too much, came home and slept early. Monday doesn't feel so bad.

Friday, April 18, 2014

needled

I didn't know him that well, but he was always nice to me, we never had any deep conversations, he was a friendly face at family gatherings, sometimes I'd run into him out and about, he was dating my sister-in-law, he was the one that got my sister to the help she needed and then out of nowhere I get a phone call that he's dead at 22, that it was heroin, and I redact an impulsive bit of internet sadness and decide to grieve and process here pseudonymously and feel guilty a bit for being so raw and just want a hug and to be able to cry because I'm sick of watching everyone destroy themselves and I can't even understand it because it's never been the struggle for me.


It was so beautiful outside when I got home and I sat on the balcony and sobbed and texted my sister to see how she's holding up because I'm afraid she will relapse too. I felt strangely alone, and I just wanted to be around someone, anyone who'd remind me that this world isn't always cold and sad and get frustrated when the people who will vent all their sadnesses to me are distant when it comes to my own. I wouldn't have to talk about it too much, I just want the comfort of presence, for empathy, for a shoulder to cry on, but sometimes it seems like I'm asking for too much. 



 I had commitments that night to practice for the Easter morning service at church and I go there and break down again, because it's safe there, it's where people in my world have known me long enough to know all sides of me, and there's enough hugs and listening ears that I feel better even if I don't stay for the entire thing and retreat to the lake where I sat in the darkness watching the water swirl and silently poured out my thoughts and questions to God before heading home. It was good enough for my soul that I was able to fall asleep, and I realized last night who the ones I can lean on are, and maybe that's a good thing to know those things.

I don't really want to go anywhere tonight for Good Friday.  I don't really want to spend time with family members. It's hard to celebrate the concept of resurrection when death feels so real. I don't even know what I want, just that things feel sad right now and the world just feels too heavy.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

cathartic sonic

I went to sleep early last night, passed out on the couch, not bothering to cook dinner, maybe it was the rain, who knows, and it was too cloudy to see any awesome astronomic phenomena.

I played music this morning though, and this time it veered a little more heavy, but I make the listeners happy, which is always good.




 

Monday, April 14, 2014

the warmth

Hovering between fits of melancholia over tea and moments of utter bliss was this weekend. I'm considering seeing what kind of supplements or what-have-you are worth taking because I get weirded out by serious meds and most of the time it really isn't all that bad.

I'm sure part of it has to do with some draining interactions this past week, of lonely seniors and those on the road to sobriety whose perceptions are profoundly clouded. You're judgmental, you really don't like me and just pretend to. And if I didn't like someone, I sure as heck wouldn't bother trying to meet up with them because I make time for the people I love. Also, evidently others don't see it that way, because evidently I'm just so chill that it's okay to cancel plans for bullshit reasons and then mumble 'sorry' and pass the buck to you when you call them on said bullshit. I'm cool with forgiveness, but I also believe in making clear that I don't expect much, and basic common courtesy of keeping your word and not blaming me for your bad behavior is pretty basic.

But I played tunes on the air this weekend, played requested Sleep and Opeth and The Sword and other duderific riffy tunes for the Saturday night masses. Got back in touch with an old homie who I haven't seen in almost a year thanks to his work schedule and seasonal ennui.



I forget the ease of our friendship, the way that we don't have to do much but just be together, and we spent a Sunday afternoon walking down to the lake, drinking smoothies on the jetty, eating ice cream on the pier and people-watching before taking the long way back to my neighborhood. It felt like summer, us in t-shirts, everyone being friendly to us in a part of town where interracial tends to bring more smiles than dirty looks.

I came home and cleaned off the balcony, talked on the phone with one of the neighbors and revelled in the warm breezes coming through my windows. It's cold again today but for everything I lose, I always seem to gain something else and that's strange and beautiful.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

I don't wanna to be me

I admitted exhaustion today, exhaustion of being responsible for anything more than the paycheck, of coming home and feeling profoundly uncreative, feeling unable to do much besides share a meal with others and maybe read or stare blankly at the lake. The babies are easy because they don't ask for much. Of being unable to write songs, unable to paint anything beautiful, unmotivated to even cook, to plant seeds, to do anything, there are clothes all over the floor of my room that need to be put away, and every conversation has been exhausting, and sometimes the cloud lifts and then it descends again. Depression sucks. It's beautiful outside, I should be celebrating.




of time and sharks and internet

We've been reading 'The Time Regulation Committee' by Ahmet Hamdi Tanpinar for book club, of which two other members showed up at the house on Friday and we talked about sundry things and I drank tea instead of booze because I developed some kind of nasty cold or somesuch and woke up the next morning barely able to to get out of the driveway to go and try some kind of weird 19th century homeopathic business that worked quite well coupled with garlic and ample amounts of ginger tea. It was really good, reminded me of a less dystopian Kafka with a bit of wry Vonnegut thrown in and a lot of Turkish cultural references that I'm not sure I completely got.

And I spent the weekend holed up in the house listening to Nirvana and Alice in Chains and bringing order to my kitchen before finally feeling good enough to go over to my sister's to hang out with the little dudes and read science books about sharks to them which were mostly about how they kill and eat humans and whatnot, which inevitably led to me narrating about great whites and hammerheads in the Daria voice. We met up last night for Indian food and to walk down to the lake and let the rugrats run around the park, where fun was had by all.

FACT: The Vampire Squid is neither vampire nor squid!

 
 I also dipped my toes into the internets dating pool just to say I've tried it, because for as many people as I know this town and as many circles as I run in, most of my friends with similar beliefs are married (I am the only single 25-35 year old in my admittedly small congregation), and everyone else is drunk and there'd be other compatibility issues anyway (religion still being a dealbreaker, especially in these times where people make it more polarizing than it needs to be). It's a little disheartening to see how semi-literate and sports-obsessed everyone seems to be, and no I don't find your love of golf and television appealing at all and what kind of craft beer you drink doesn't automatically make you interesting or cultured.

I go hiking with one of the homegirls and we talk about this, she's met someone wonderful that way, but maybe it's easier for my progressive friends to find each other, such is life. At any rate, I'm not bored, and life stays interesting, and at least I know I won't settle for being bored with someone else.

The Internet's a strange beast and I realize that I don't like the way it makes people treat each other. I watched someone go vigilante being all big man behind the computer, knowing full well all the dirt on him and the way that he's treated others, and feel that sending incriminating internets dumbassery to the offenders' coworkers is a particularly low move, but also maybe I'm not much different by the sheer act of even writing this.

but we project these images of virtue, and kill each others' reputations so easily as plot points in our stories, and if anything I feel somewhat validated that my initial assessment was not far off at all, that all my gut feelings were right, that I did not want to partake in any association with this person.Others may disagree and do but the hypocrisy and vindictiveness and the projection of righteousness from those who I know have skeletons in the closet is a little hard to swallow. Maybe we all have these things and should be mindful.


Friday, April 4, 2014

heroined

I've made no secret of my grunge love, brought on no doubt by my dad listening to lots of rock radio, and liking the Seattle sound. At any rate, here's a bunch of random Nirvana covers for the weekend.

Black Math Horseman's deconstructed one won't embed so listen here. 



Also, songs Nirvana covered that got me into other bands.