So Long Edzo

Bye buddy...(1998-2006)

I Used To Think About Things

I like the way I used to think; when I had money. I was never rich by any means but I could buy things when I needed them. I even could purchase a few non-necessities like capos and booze.

Being poor means you can't drink like you used to. Not being able to drink like you used to means you can't think like you used to. Not being able to think like you used to makes your perception of things change. Changing your perception of things makes you fear things that you may have not feared before. Fearing what you may have not feared before makes you more paranoid and increases your chances of becoming insane. Becoming insane might make me think like I used to.

Yeah, I Like Birds. What's It To Ya?

There is a slight, unavoidable feeling of insecurity in my manhood when I admit to my fondness for flowers and birds. I never had a "be a tough guy" type of father figure in my life and to me that is a good thing. Personally, I can't think of another male (or female for that matter) that has a desire to sit quietly and just listen to birds and try to figure out what exactly they are hearing.

At the same time, I am still trying to figure out why I am attracted to this activity. What do I get out of it? What's the appeal? But instead of trying to answer those questions to myself, I should just enjoy it and not care why.

Ronald Reagan Quote While Running For California Governor

"I think, too, that we've got to recognize that where the preservation of a natural resource like the redwoods is concerned, that there is a common sense limit. I mean, if you've looked at a hundred thousand acres or so of trees — you know, a tree is a tree, how many more do you need to look at?"

I guess Ronnie needed to see more buildings. It gets lonely out there in all them trees.

Books (yawn)

I've always hated reading books. It's sort of the same way I feel about movies. If something is going to keep my attention for that long it had better be fucking great or at least be so silly that I have to continue. When I do read something it's usually non-fiction. Novels are the worst. Too many authors tend to be just a little too descriptive for my taste. I cant read a whole page that describes a fucking field with a stream running through it. That just seems like unnecessary filler for a book. A book has to be straight to the point for me. Shit just has to be happening for me to maintain interest.

I have tried in the past to read one of a particular author's book and if it's good I'll read another work by them. I think that only two authors have inspired me to do that. Charles Bukowski and Judy Blume. I'll bet neither of them would have been caught dead reading the other's work.

Beck-Guero-7/10

Beck's career has always been hit or miss with me. One album would cause envy while the next caused narcolepsy. Mellow Gold was mediocre. Odelay was fantastic. Mutations, I've never heard although I'm told that I must. Midnight Vultures seemed like a great album at first but I became burned out on it very quickly and have no urge to listen to it again. Sea Change was made to keep people from waking out of their coma. Then came Guero. With Beck's constantly changing styles, this album seemed like a revisit to each of his earlier works. That turned out to be a good thing.

Guero has convinced me that Beck is a solid songwriter with a vivid imagination and originality. Something tells me, though, that with this album Beck has hit his peak. I guess that may remain to be seen.

I just though of a genre name for this album-"Retro Hip-Hop Folk"

Highlights-Missing, Go it Alone, Girl
Low Points-Hell Yes, Broken Drum

Marcy Playground-(Self Titled)-7/10

Sometimes us cool people have way too much pride to give a chance to an album that produced one of the most overplayed songs ever. Of course I'm speaking of "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground. At one point I felt that if I had heard that song one more time I was going to stick hot fishing hooks into my eyeballs. I never even bothered listening to the rest of the album until 8 years later because I feared that the other songs might be just as annoying as "Sex and Candy". Much to my surprise, they were not.

When listening to this album (is it OK to call them albums still) you might think 'this is what Nirvana would have sounded like if they drank wine laced with downers'. But Marcy Playground tends to pull it off in an original way-if that makes any sense. Singer/guitarist John Wozniak writes simple and beautiful songs. It's his drowsy and slightly breathy singing style that gets me. Ordinarily that sort of singing wouldn't be very appealing to me. For this, it works.

I guess I'm changing as I get older. For the past 15 years or so, I wouldn't have given any band that had an album in the Top 40 a chance. Of course this album did come out in 1997 and when I think about it-there hasn't been anything else in the Top 40 since then that is worth listening to. Oh well, I guess I am still a snob.

Highlights-Saint Joe On The School Bus, Gone Crazy, Sherry Fraser
Low Points-Sex And Candy, Dog And His Master

I have to start reviewing albums that suck. That'd be more fun.

Ween- Shinola (Vol.1) -7/10

Shinola, to me, is an album that was intended to keep the fans, including me, somewhat happy until a new album is released. Putting out an album of unreleased material is somewhat strange in my opinion because I'm always thinking to myself, "It had to be 'unreleased material' for a reason". The album has a few skippers in it, including "Tastes Good On Th' Bun", "Big Fat Fuck" and "Israel". They're not necessarily bad songs but they have that novelty quality to them as many of their songs do; especially in the earlier albums.

There are some good songs on this album but nothing that blew me away. From the Beatles/Grateful Dead sound of "I Fell In Love Today" to the song that seems like they found in Prince's throwaways "Monique The Freak", the album is average. I would have given it a six out of ten if the band's name didn't happen to be "Ween". How's that for bias?

Highlights-I Fell In Love Today, How High Can You Fly
Low Points-Israel, Monique The Freak (I know Emily will disagree with this one)

By the way, just check out Paula Abdul on American Idol sometime and look at her eyes. I don't know if I recall seeing anyone look as high as she does.

Husker Du-Zen Arcade-8/10

When I first heard Husker Du in the early nineties I was annoyed at inconsistencies on their albums. "Candle Apple Grey" and "Flip Your Wig" had a couple well written emotional songs but it was mostly filled with material that came off a little too bubble-gummy for me. The album "New Day Rising" had the same feeling with the usual sappy pop tunes. The exception being one of the greatest songs ever, "Celebrated Summer".

Then I remembered hearing another Husker Du album that blew me away. It was "Zen Arcade". Hearing it again today for the first time in 10 years made me wonder why I had forgotten about it. Although it is considered to be hardcore punk, which can automatically be a turn-off to some people, Zen Arcade is different. The album also contains some soft ballads and a few tamer rock songs. You can really hear the originality and the future influence that this album has. Bob Mould could be one of the most underrated guitarists ever. There is so much emotion in his guitar and in his voice. It makes me clinch my teeth when I listen to him on this album. Has there, in history, ever been an angrier gay guy?

Even with a couple of drummer/singer Grant Hart's chinsy songwriting contributions to the album it remains a classic. It gets an eight out of ten just for it's influence alone.

Highlights-Chartered Trips, I'll Never Forget You, Beyond The Threshold
Low Points-Pink Turns To Blue, Turn On The News, What's Going On

Some Days I'm Not On, Forever I Am

Could I live the rest of my life as an introverted basement-dwelling songwriter? Well sure I could. Is this a realistic way to live? Of course not.

As I get older I have mixed feelings about writing songs and why I keep doing it. One part of me wishes that I would have stuck with the bands that I was in when I was younger and strived to "make it". But another part of me says "Oh well. I'm just going to keep writing songs because it's something that needs to be done." Whether the songs are good or bad to other people's ears hardly matters to me. To me it's like pissing or shitting-it has to come out. I can't control it. I don't even have the urge to perform for people anymore. I just simply enjoy creating music.

On a slightly different topic: Is it wrong, at the age of 29, to envy someone so much to the point that you wish you were them. Or is that considered a type mental disorder? Reading what I just wrote-It almost sounds like a lack of self respect. I guess envy is something almost everyone has felt at one time or another. Hell, they made a word for it.

Because It's Been A Few Days....

1. I think I want to be castrated. What the hell will I need them for once I'm happy with the amount of offspring I've created? If I did go through with the whole procedure I would get into scuffles and dare people to kick me in the balls.
"Go ahead. See if I care." I'd say.
Then when they have that shocked look on there face from me not feeling pain I'd uppercut them in the jaw and kick their still existing testicles.



2. I know that I've said many times before that everyone in this country is crazy but are they idiots too? Just go see the crowd at a WWE event or watch people at a wedding reception become way too excited over the Electric Slide and the Macarena. These people just make me sick. I'm a crazy idiot like that.

3. I like birds but they just fly away when I try explain my fondness to them.

Hoping For The "Good" Crazy

Everyone that I know is crazy. So, if they're all crazy I must be crazy too. It's fine with me if everyone one is not quite normal. I think it's safe to say, though, that there is "good" crazy and "bad" crazy. Soon, I will go crazy. I'm hoping that it's the "good" kind.

A bandmate and friend of mine recently phoned to tell me that he's going out west to "get away". He thinks his sanity may be out there living amongst the craziness that is southern California. Los Angeles was the place he named first and then San Diego. We've been writing music together for the past year and a half and suddenly this didn't matter to him anymore. Just last week the son-of-a-bitch mentioned buying a P.A. system and not being able to wait until we started playing out. The only thing I could think of saying to him was "Well, sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do." Then he says "Yeah, well...okay, I'll stay in touch."

A half hour later he calls me back to ask for a phone number of a mutual friend of ours that lived in L.A. We hadn't spoken to this person for 9 years. What did he expect this person to do? I played out the conversation in my head:

"Hey, remember me?" he'd say to her.
"Yeah, wow, its been a while. How's it going?"
"Umm, well, I'm coming out to California tomorrow. Do you think I could crash with you for a little bit?"
"Uh, dude, I'm married and have 3 kids now. I don't think that'd be cool" she'd say.
"Aw c'mon. I'll just sleep in your basement or your attic. Just until I get a job and a place to go. You'll never know I'm there"
"I'm sorry. I don't think that will work"
"O.K. Well....see ya"
"Yeah, nice hearin' from you"
CLICK

So I'll move on and keep writing songs by myself because it's what I do. By the way, anyone know a bass player or drummer?

Looks Matter When You Kill

So now we've got this Neil Entwistle character. A handsome fellow if I do say so myself. And he's got that charming English accent to go with those looks. A one time stranger in the world is now a media star for blowing away his wife and 9-month old daughter.

Is it just me or do you have to be good-looking to get national recognition for killing family members? I'm sure that people are killing their spouses and children on a daily basis but if they're not white, young and handsome no one ever hears about it. Think about it. Why on earth did Scott Pederson get so much coverage? I'm sure there were at least 20 other guys who killed their pregnant wife in the same year as him but we didn't hear a thing about them. But he was hot and his wife was hot (oh my god, did I just called a guy "hot"?) and that is clearly why these cases make the news. Face it: Unfortunate looking people are killing and dying every day. If I can't hear about these "ugly" murders well then I don't want to hear about any at all. CNN wouldn't cover such a story if the murderer and/or victim looked like people in this blog's pictures. (apologies to the people in the pictures)

40% Of Strato Cumulus Clouds....zzzzzzz

I feel the urge to write something just to keep my blog going. Of course, when I go into writing a blog with this kind of attitude it usually turns out lame and I end up deleting it. As someone with not much of a life at the present time, I don't have much to say. Hell, I don't even think about anything anymore let alone speak about them. I am a living "Duh".

When I do think of something to say it's almost always interesting to me and me only and when I try to tell others what I'm thinking about I start noticing a glazed look in their eyes. I get the gratuitous nods too. Sometimes I'll say "floppy dolly dinglehouser" right in the middle of a sentence just to see if they're listening.

I tend to be fascinated by things that no one else seems to care about. That should be fine but I should learn to keep some things to myself. Random statistics, cloud movements and hockey are good examples of things that are best kept locked up inside my head. Amen.

Don't Tell Me That Sports Are Silly, I Already Know

I feel kind of silly when I realize that I am a fan of sports. What does it matter to my life if my favorite team wins or loses? I understand the inanity of it all but I still cheer for the jocks who I hated in High School. Well, High School athleticism is a whole other story. Maybe it's that I haven't had much success in life and I'm winning a small victory when my team wins. I guess I'm living vicariously. Who knows?

One good thing is that I'm not quite as crazy as those around me when it comes to football. I thought I was a Pittsburgh Steeler fan but when I got around some other rabid people during the recent Superbowl run I saw that I wasn't much of a football fan at all. If that's the way I'm supposed to act to be a "true" fan well then I should find some other interests. I just sat there and looked at those screaming and dancing people and thought, "Why are you so insanely happy?" " What do you get out of this?"

My favorite sport is hockey and I recall reading or hearing somewhere that the most intelligent bunch out of all the sports fans is the hockey fan. O.K. I'll go with that.

The Forgotten Games

Does anyone really care about the Winter Olympics? Or the Summer Olympics for that matter? I can't think of a single soul who anxiously awaits these silly events. The most ridiculous events would have to be the biathlon and curling. Where does it come in handy to have the ability to ski far distances and then shoot a rifle? Maybe a park ranger in the Rockies might be accustomed to that sort of thing. Somehow I doubt it. And then there's curling. Are people that practice curling (called curlers I assume) considered athletes? I guess cleaning snow that lay in front of a moving rock can be tiresome. Anyway, me just talking briefly about the Olympics here suggests that I might have given this topic just a little too much thought. Damn! Another ten minutes completely wasted. Now I'm going to go get completely wasted.

Lazy Days Will Soon Be Gone

I wanted to be jobless forever. It's everyone's dream. Well, at least us reasonable people. I guess there are wackos out there who actually enjoy taking orders. These people are known as freaks and I want nothing to do with them.

I've been a part time bum/stay-at-home-dad for over a year now but something strange is happening. My attitude toward joblessness is changing. I want to work now. Employment, I'm finding, may be necessary to stay sane. This is very unfortunate because I felt that being employed had actually made as me crazy as ever. It is truly a Catch 22. I guess I doomed to be insane either way.

So let's all shed a tear for the guy who must soon return to work. Poor me.

My God-Damned Right Eye

My right eye is evil. It's always watering and red. I don't know what I ever did to it to make it hate me so much. How do I make my right eye like me and stop doing these terrible things to me. I tried reasoning and begging with it but it wouldn't acknowledge my pleas.

One thing that puzzles me is that the left eye always behaves itself. It never acts up and is always kind to me. It's like those cartoons you see with the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.

Both eyes work well together when it comes to the task of vision but I assume that, at times, the right eye gets bored with that and has to mess with me just for shits and giggles. My right eye laughs at my allergy drops. In fact, when I was looking in the mirror, I could have swore that I saw the right eye acting as if the drops were just a delightful spring rain. It had it's little umbrella twirling and everything. And I know I heard singing.

I will get you right eye! The left eye and I have a plan.

So You Call Yourself A Musician

So I call myself a musician. We come a dime a dozen. Some musicians play covers while others write their own songs. Some have dreams of making a living out of it while others do it for fun. We are all delusional and most of us smell funny.

I have written a few hundred songs in my lifetime. A majority of which will never be heard. That's fine with me. It's mostly therapeutic anyway. Some people have to shoot defenseless animals while others need to rape old ladies to relieve stress. I just write songs, so I am better than them.

Movies Waste My Precious Time

There seems to be a constant flow of bad movies coming out. Now I understand that movie trailers can be decieving and films that look bad are sometimes good. Not usually though. I can tell by those 30 second ads if a movie is going to be a piece of crap or not. Movies are something that I was always picky about. If I'm supposed to waste an hour and a half or longer of my life to watch a movie then it had better be good.

Nowadays, as us older folk like to say, a majority of the films being made are either remakes of older films or musicals. The remakes are always ones of movies that didn't do so well in the first place but some idiot decided to give it another shot with younger actors and a modern twist to the storyline. Yeah, that'll be good. As far as musicals go, well, they musn't even want us straight males to go to the theater anymore. The idea of a movie with overly dramatic songs set to a idiotic storyline isn't appealing to most people. What's that? It is? Oh well.

I saw a trailer today for a military movie called Annapolis that almost made me loose my Ramen Noodles. First off, I never knew that Tyrese Gibson was an actor let alone that he had a last name. I also see that he is an R&B singer as well. Anyway, in this trailer a woman's voice says "Why are you so hard on him?" (speaking about one of the military underlings) and the general says "Because I believe in him." Well what I believe is that if you look up trite in the dictionary a soundclip from this film is played. Whoever looks at previews for garbage like this and thinks "I gotta see that." should be slowly dipped, toes first, into a vat of boiling monkey semen.

Baby Tricks

Is it wrong to teach babies stupid tricks to amuse friends and family? The main reason people do it in the first place is to let others think that your child is smarter than other kids. That's my theory anyway. My daughter will be one tomorrow so I decided to hurriedly teach her how to hold up one finger when she is asked how old she is. I think I started late. She didn't catch on. But she can raise her arms when you say "Touchdown", and now that the Steelers are in the Superbowl I think that's a swell trick.

Are People Really As Dull As I Think They Are?

I know that I am doomed in fate to be fat, bald and unsuccessful and I have known this for sometime, but at least it's all happening at a fairly slow rate. Teaching myself to not complain out loud doesn't usually work. I'm naturally a pretty vocal whiner.

But it also seems that I have an obligation listen to other people's problems. It's a part of life I guess. I realize the torture that I would be putting them through if they had to endure my tiresome rant about aching feet or unpaid utility bills or a pet cat of mine that pisses on everything. Yet, I still do it.

But it's not so much people's problems that I have trouble listening to, it's the small talk and the subject matter they chose. Do I have to sit there and listen attentively while people tell me about their children going to the prom or some shit like that? And then they have to show me pictures. Oh lord, not the pictures too. All the while I'm thinking "Oh wonderful, I get to look at pictures of your ugly kids. This is exactly what I wanted to do today." It all just makes me uncomfortable (obviously). I do my best to keep people from talking to me but somehow I think they sense it and, much to my dismay, they want to talk more. It's not the actual conversing that I dislike, it's the fact that most people talk about things that I could give two shits about. Is asking that people to not be so boring when they speak such a bad thing?

Don't Waste Strength On Idiots

It was 5:45 a.m. and we had 15 minutes of sleeping time before the 6:00 a.m. shift started. Whether it was the van ride to work or a lunch break, we slept. If you wanted a bunch of trouble-making punk asses to do manual labor then you had to let them rest.

One co-worker, John Noel, was the type of person who walked with his arms out to give the impression that his biceps were too large to rest against his torso. The attempted illusion was not convincing. He spoke strong words but we knew he couldn't back it up with actions. We sensed that he had either a troubled past or slight retardation or both.

Everyone but John and I were napping one particular morning before our shift started, so I thought that I'd have a little "fun" with him. I snuck up behind him as he was sitting in a chair and gave him a good bitch slap across the back of the neck (just believe me, he deserved it). I giggled to myself and sat down at a nearby table. Then WHAM! I was clotheslined out of my seat and knocked flat onto the floor. Not a suprising move from someone who was a fan of pro wrestling.

I stood up and a rage I had never felt before boiled inside me and John knew it. Immedietly he crouched into a fetal position as I was wailing on the back of his head. Punch after punch landed on the back of his well groomed mullet. I felt a crack in my hand as soon as I hit him with the first blow but I continued thumping on him. One of the game commissioners raced up to me and picked me up by the scruff and slammed me against the wall three times. By the time it was over I was in tears. Yeah, my hand was broken but it was tears of overwhelming anger. I felt like punching the commissioner or anyone else that needed punched that day. But somehow I gained my senses and thought better of it. I decided later that he won the fight because I was the one with broken bones.

I've always been a peaceful person and this was the only fight I had ever been in. So I thought I'd share this story of the one day when I was not so peaceful.

The More I Think About Things The More Scared I Become

1-I'm getting a little chubby these days and to make matters worse I have dried up macaroni and cheese on my shirt.

2- Boredom is bringing on new adventures for me. In fact, this past week I decided to do something with myself; I'm growing a beard.

3-I like pickles more than I used to. Gherkins are pretty good. Aren't those pickles? I think they are, just with a fancy name. Well, I guess it's not that fancy. Maybe it's that silent "h" that makes me think it's fancy. ihategherkins.com

Baby Beer Bottle

Don't you just love those headaches that are so bad you feel like you're going to puke. Ah yes, one of the pleasures of life. I think this one is a result of a delayed hangover. I tried the "drink your hangover away" method. It didn't work. I even used good scotch to do it but I think the fact that I drank 9 dollar whiskey the day before fucked that up.

I haven't had a job for over a year now so I have no interesting thoughts anymore, just strange ones. Thoughts that if anyone knew they about they would turn the other way when I started to speak. Good thing I don't speak to many people. I was anti-social to begin with, now I never leave the house. Watching my daughter is a bit of a full time job but it's not all that bad. Trust me, she'll be o.k. I only drink after her bed time while I'm in my basement pretending I'm someone I'm not. It's not like I sit around with a baby bottle in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. I doubt she'll end up being a people-hating drunk like me. In my experience, I wanted do the opposite of everything my parents did. So maybe my daughter will end up a milk-drinking community worker.

The spell checker wanted me to replace "o.k." with "Ohio".

I Wish I Liked Drugs More

I don't like to be fanatical about anything except drinking but I can't help myself sometimes. These two guys in this picture are geniuses which leads me to believe that I must have missed out on something by not being a coke-head or a junkie. We've all heard before that drugs and alcohol create great music. But the part I personally find difficult is being just sober enough to actually play your instrument. There is a fine line there.

I thought it would be a nice concept for a band to make a few albums while under the influence of a particular drug for each of them. You'd have your heroin album, your mushroom album,your glue album, etc. Ah, it's probably been done and it might not have even been intentional.

At this point in life my paranoid brain can barely handle weed anymore. So now I just drink and hope that I can find some talent in a bottle because sobriety gets you nowhere. Listen up kids!