September 25, 2008
Anyways, whenever you would say something like "I planted grapes last year and I've still got nothin'."
Uncle Johnny used to go "mm-HM", and then fold his arms sort of thoughtfully. See, he knew that only those scrapply old Muscodines grow in the southeast. It would've been impolite for him to tell you that you're a dumbass. So he'd say "mm-HM" and after briefly scratching his stubbly chin with his thick calloused fingers, he'd steer you off to where you ought to be.
When Jen said that Bane had gone, I felt like saying "mm-HM." Bane used to comment a lot around here, and I could've sworn we did a "How Many Beers" with him, but I googled with no success. Add it to the list of things I should've done while I could've. Goddammit. "mm-HM" was where Bane existed on the spectrum of human emotion. While we were all chewing pseudointellectual cud and choking on diplomacy, he was spitting bullets and breathing fire. He actually said (blogged, wrote, whatever) aloud what we were all thinking while we were going "mm-HM."
Passion without a filter. A 527 in a Gremlin running with an open header. He was caustic, but you couldn't deny his drawing power.
Well Bane, if you're in Heaven - I hope they've got a shooting range. On the off chance you end up in Hell, call up one or two of your old favorites and shoot your way out. But try not to crack a smile while you do it. That might piss 'em off.
Here's to hoping you're looking out for us all. We could definitely use a gaurdian angel rocking a bandalero. more...
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07:27 PM
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September 22, 2008
As I'm waiting for the machine to spit out my crisply-minted fiat currency, I realize that someone is approaching me. Maybe it's just me, but having someone walk up to you at the ATM is awkward. Is it just me? I mean, if it's a friend or something, then it doesn't; but this was an obscure acquaintance. I say 'obscure' because it's someone with whom I've had a, and I mean a single, brief, conversation; but we don't know each other by name.
Anyways, this person is mumbling, and I'm looking back and forth between them and the machine as I go about my business. I can't quite make out what they're saying, but they're definitely trying to communicate specifically to me:
"sdfa, sthsg ugurowelo, kljh?"
Hmm. What is it Lassie? What is it girl?
"weui, rtr wertllyurt a dollar..."
Oh. A twinge of sympathy. We wade deeper into awkwardness.
"...sdpog ritiwe bakesale?"
Oh you've got to be kidding me.
I finally figure out that this person is asking me for a dollar, so she can buy something at the charity bakesale that's set up on a table adjacent to the ATM.
Don't get me wrong, I do have feelings. And at first I felt bad for this person who had to beg people for money while they went to the ATM. At least it was a good tactic, hit 'em when they're going to the source. But the act stumbles in the prestige, right where it should be hitting me full force. A dollar? Motherfucker, I'm at the ATM. I have no money, and in a few moments when I do have money, I am not going to have any dollar bills.
So you want a dollar (first nail in the coffin) and you want it for...the bakesale? You want my money so you can spend it on something nonessential. Yeeaah.
No.
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10:47 AM
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September 19, 2008
I'm thinking of all that's happened in the recent past, and how it belies the place I find myself in, here at the kitchen table. There was Ike, who kicked the shit out of Texas. Towns absolutely wiped off the map, people without power and water for what may be weeks; and worse. But where is that on my local nightly newscast? The talking heads are going on about our problem with rabid cats, or that a cement company wants to build a plant. WTF.
And then there's the economic news. It seems to me that the gloom-and-doomers have been heralding this day for at least a year. Stock markets climb a wall of worry. Americans are sitting on a sinkhole of debt. It's time to pay the piper. Well, believe it or not, somehow this bit of new became blurbworthy on my local innocuous newscast. Crammed for a few seconds between a peice on a reopened murder case and some guy who builds shrimping trawlers by hand.
And there's also the election. I won't go into specifics, but suffice to say I hope everyone's doing their homework; and I mean real digging. Read the sites you don't usually read, ferret out the partisan shit, and read the factual stuff. You'd be amazed what's lying under the facade of these candidates; and it seems we do really have to pick the lesser of two evils. I've decided not to talk politics with friends anymore, because there's one candidate I simply can't stand. The sad part is that the other one just makes me feel 'sort of' like I won't have to fear my government. This is making the local newscast. We're just enjoying the weather, I guess. Shit, the weather makes the news a couple times a day.
Where's all the in depth analysis? Report on the issues. Then report on the people and events driving the issues. Where are they why's? I don't give a fuck that the weather's going to be awesome tomorrow; I give a fuck about the stuff that really matters. How come I have to look that shit up, and you; as a news agency, the informers; only have to bring me rabid cats, cement plants, and the fucking weather?
Posted by: shank at
03:55 PM
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