Random notes from a garage
Posted: Fri Oct 26, 2001 4:23 pm
While driving home today I noticed the KFC sign reading, God Less America�. The “b� in bless was either stolen from punks or the wind had taken it. Either way I got a chuckle.
I think best when I drive. Maybe because unlike many other drivers I choose back roads. I used to take back roads when I was smoking herbs in my car on my way home from school. I like being alone when I drive. If I have kids, the wife will have to drive them in a separate vehicle. I don't think I could handle all the gripes and moaning. Reminds me of my old man. Frankly, we didn't gripe on sunday drives. If by chance we did, All the old man had to do was wrap his arm around his seat and grab your leg with what seemed to be the might of a hundred men. That was more than enough to keep my mouth tight. And there is the seg-way for tonight.....
Keeping ones mouth shut. The possibility of doing so. To not speak when you know you want too. To not speak at the huge rewards and benefits that are blinded and grayed out by egos and need for acknowledgment. Ohhhh the things I wish I didn't say. The things that certainly ripped out someone's soul and let the body fend by its lonesome. Regret of my shit. Shit upon by regret. i can name some reoccurring dreams/reminders of things I have said. I would disagree on some points that actions speak louder than words. i think in most cases the words breed the action in a cause/effect scenario. For instance, If I feel guilty it mostly of caused by someone's thoughts of me or the words they might say. I have no fear of there action because I have no fear of dealing with it. I can counter act much better than counter the guilt in words. It is much easier for me to go hop in my car and stop at a bar a drink my head full of anger and later get knocked out by a fellow drinker. I can find some gratitude in that.
Last night I was thinking about our economy. How progressive it has been and how a short remission is here. (Remission, according to our high times) The poor and the hungry still sleep all around us and this doesn't bother me. What came to be a bother, was the possibility of a leveling economy. Fuck if i know what level would be, but I have a feeling it would be a few notches lower on the economic totem. Now since the poor are here in numbers and the middle class in even larger numbers...I wonder about equilibrium of the economy. The numbers wont be as comfortable as they are now. It's disturbing because I think most see for a sense of the same. The same mechanical paycheck that we could all spend equally on an equal time scale. If Johnny wants to spend his share in the bar, so be it. If Edmund likes tasty girls and the finer things, perhaps he cant go to the bar...instead he goes out for dance in the club. Ok, so that is tasteless imagination. The reality, a growth in rich and poor with small margin for a middle gray area. Perhaps the great god might drop neatly bound packets of food with pictures indicating its use. We could scrounge for food, our eyes would enlarge at wooden crates. Its not far off, many cvilizations treat the “natural� gods as such. Rain, Fire......the elements. And if the packages didn't come we would certainly have to offer something to the gods. And what might that be? A new car, a virgin, a TV.? no no no, those wont do, we would certainly have to give the gods something far more valuable. Our pride, dignity, greed, contempt, values, morals, bravery, jealousy and a thousand other characteristics in verbiage. Perhaps the crates might fall again and we could all once again be greedy, jealous and brave. And when all is said and done, our children will think we were foolish and they will find better things to offer. They would learn there is always something better and that it is foolish to sacrifice it to imaginary gods because Santa dropped those crates of food with the silly pictures on them.
I think I got a little off track there...you be the judge.
This weekend I will be going to another high school football game. In my four years of high school, I never once attended a game. Now it seems like a blast. Perhaps the small little 16 year old asses that go running everywhere doing cartwheels in the evening grass. Maybe its the 60 year old man that brought me here. The only reason I say that is because he is a sign of things to come for me. He lives by himself has 2 adopted children in which he never sees and of course, an ex-wife who he still thinks about, but never mentions. His apartment is small and dingy. He owns a TV. some kitchen supplies and 5 crates of books. He marks each one on the inside cover with a rating. Just in case, he might re-read one. I don't think he ever has.
We have come down to a routine with these football games. First off, since he is a member of the Elks lodge, he invites me as a guest and we put down a few beers there. I sit there in awe of these men. The ELKS CLUB, hardly an elitist group. Men range from 30 to 99 with exclusion of myself. They all pay there monthly dues and they have their favorite stool at the bar. They all eat pop corn and miss their mouths continuously, leaving a pile of kernels by every mans foot. Its easy to tell why they are here. To share the same story they told last night and to get away from the wife and kids. I could see myself sitting here later in life playing euchre with a couple old timers while smoking and drinking a thick one.
After a couple drinks we head to another shanty bar that serves a mean cheeseburger. the same barfly's are here from my last visit. I wonder if they ever left? Terror screams on the TV. set and nobody gives a fuck here. I like it here. A few more drinks and im ready to hear the roaring of plastic pads and helmets.
We arrive early, parking our selves in a special spot. Its a teachers parking area, but nobody even thinks that maybe they could park there too. The old man opens up the cooler and we booth take strong pulls on our beers. It reminds me of being a teenager.
We then walk towards the gates and get our tickets. His sister's nephew happens to play on the team and has pulled her RV up close next to the gate. “I don't mind if I do� as I step inside with the others grabbing a brew that was offered. A toilet and everything, a man can live nicely in what he thinks is another mans vacation tool.
We ended up in the stands and not pleased. Who the fuck ever thinks stands are a good place to be? The view is good they say, I say get near the field and HEAR the view. Fucking patsys. The old man and i get down close without a single question asked. We hear all the sounds of football, and I enjoy the sound more than the game itself. The coach spits his speech in anger and the players bang head like rams. Fucking great! I imagine myself on the field and getting my guts knocked out. The feeling of revenge overwhelms me and I wanna rip a young kids head off and munch on his esophagus.
And that's were I leave my readers tonight...with esophagus breathe.
I think best when I drive. Maybe because unlike many other drivers I choose back roads. I used to take back roads when I was smoking herbs in my car on my way home from school. I like being alone when I drive. If I have kids, the wife will have to drive them in a separate vehicle. I don't think I could handle all the gripes and moaning. Reminds me of my old man. Frankly, we didn't gripe on sunday drives. If by chance we did, All the old man had to do was wrap his arm around his seat and grab your leg with what seemed to be the might of a hundred men. That was more than enough to keep my mouth tight. And there is the seg-way for tonight.....
Keeping ones mouth shut. The possibility of doing so. To not speak when you know you want too. To not speak at the huge rewards and benefits that are blinded and grayed out by egos and need for acknowledgment. Ohhhh the things I wish I didn't say. The things that certainly ripped out someone's soul and let the body fend by its lonesome. Regret of my shit. Shit upon by regret. i can name some reoccurring dreams/reminders of things I have said. I would disagree on some points that actions speak louder than words. i think in most cases the words breed the action in a cause/effect scenario. For instance, If I feel guilty it mostly of caused by someone's thoughts of me or the words they might say. I have no fear of there action because I have no fear of dealing with it. I can counter act much better than counter the guilt in words. It is much easier for me to go hop in my car and stop at a bar a drink my head full of anger and later get knocked out by a fellow drinker. I can find some gratitude in that.
Last night I was thinking about our economy. How progressive it has been and how a short remission is here. (Remission, according to our high times) The poor and the hungry still sleep all around us and this doesn't bother me. What came to be a bother, was the possibility of a leveling economy. Fuck if i know what level would be, but I have a feeling it would be a few notches lower on the economic totem. Now since the poor are here in numbers and the middle class in even larger numbers...I wonder about equilibrium of the economy. The numbers wont be as comfortable as they are now. It's disturbing because I think most see for a sense of the same. The same mechanical paycheck that we could all spend equally on an equal time scale. If Johnny wants to spend his share in the bar, so be it. If Edmund likes tasty girls and the finer things, perhaps he cant go to the bar...instead he goes out for dance in the club. Ok, so that is tasteless imagination. The reality, a growth in rich and poor with small margin for a middle gray area. Perhaps the great god might drop neatly bound packets of food with pictures indicating its use. We could scrounge for food, our eyes would enlarge at wooden crates. Its not far off, many cvilizations treat the “natural� gods as such. Rain, Fire......the elements. And if the packages didn't come we would certainly have to offer something to the gods. And what might that be? A new car, a virgin, a TV.? no no no, those wont do, we would certainly have to give the gods something far more valuable. Our pride, dignity, greed, contempt, values, morals, bravery, jealousy and a thousand other characteristics in verbiage. Perhaps the crates might fall again and we could all once again be greedy, jealous and brave. And when all is said and done, our children will think we were foolish and they will find better things to offer. They would learn there is always something better and that it is foolish to sacrifice it to imaginary gods because Santa dropped those crates of food with the silly pictures on them.
I think I got a little off track there...you be the judge.
This weekend I will be going to another high school football game. In my four years of high school, I never once attended a game. Now it seems like a blast. Perhaps the small little 16 year old asses that go running everywhere doing cartwheels in the evening grass. Maybe its the 60 year old man that brought me here. The only reason I say that is because he is a sign of things to come for me. He lives by himself has 2 adopted children in which he never sees and of course, an ex-wife who he still thinks about, but never mentions. His apartment is small and dingy. He owns a TV. some kitchen supplies and 5 crates of books. He marks each one on the inside cover with a rating. Just in case, he might re-read one. I don't think he ever has.
We have come down to a routine with these football games. First off, since he is a member of the Elks lodge, he invites me as a guest and we put down a few beers there. I sit there in awe of these men. The ELKS CLUB, hardly an elitist group. Men range from 30 to 99 with exclusion of myself. They all pay there monthly dues and they have their favorite stool at the bar. They all eat pop corn and miss their mouths continuously, leaving a pile of kernels by every mans foot. Its easy to tell why they are here. To share the same story they told last night and to get away from the wife and kids. I could see myself sitting here later in life playing euchre with a couple old timers while smoking and drinking a thick one.
After a couple drinks we head to another shanty bar that serves a mean cheeseburger. the same barfly's are here from my last visit. I wonder if they ever left? Terror screams on the TV. set and nobody gives a fuck here. I like it here. A few more drinks and im ready to hear the roaring of plastic pads and helmets.
We arrive early, parking our selves in a special spot. Its a teachers parking area, but nobody even thinks that maybe they could park there too. The old man opens up the cooler and we booth take strong pulls on our beers. It reminds me of being a teenager.
We then walk towards the gates and get our tickets. His sister's nephew happens to play on the team and has pulled her RV up close next to the gate. “I don't mind if I do� as I step inside with the others grabbing a brew that was offered. A toilet and everything, a man can live nicely in what he thinks is another mans vacation tool.
We ended up in the stands and not pleased. Who the fuck ever thinks stands are a good place to be? The view is good they say, I say get near the field and HEAR the view. Fucking patsys. The old man and i get down close without a single question asked. We hear all the sounds of football, and I enjoy the sound more than the game itself. The coach spits his speech in anger and the players bang head like rams. Fucking great! I imagine myself on the field and getting my guts knocked out. The feeling of revenge overwhelms me and I wanna rip a young kids head off and munch on his esophagus.
And that's were I leave my readers tonight...with esophagus breathe.
