[207] Screed City

[207]

11/09/2022 Wednesday. Cardboard Box. Hampshire House. Portland, Maine.

I mean, let me just say, when I brought the Haunted Hot Dog Roller to the Brewery I was being selfish. I mean, you can't use of those things all on your own, and, I mean, how many hot dog parties are you going to have in your day to day life? I mean, a sausage party, sure. Who needs chicks, right? But, I mean, I did not expect for the thing to create the fervor it has created. I mean, they gave it it's own cart! Someone made a grease tray! A backboard! They use it every night. Apparently they had been talking about getting one for two years. I mean, when I marched in on Monday I was greeted with cheers. Some called me a liberator. I mean, I single-handedly increase moral in the engineering department by like 50% and the moral in that place is already exceptionally high. I mean, progressive work-place with good benefits and good pay. Plus you just make beer all day. Plus bagel Wednesdays, ice-cream Monday's in the Summer, they had a pig roast the last time I was here. But all these things aside, it was the Haunted Hot Dog Roller that did em' in. I mean, I did a good job. No, hold on, I take that back, I did a great job! I mean:

[Insert Haunted Hot Dog Cart Photo]

I mean, it has been a pretty funny week. I have been building this bar, but because of having to work with electricians and wishy-washy "Creatives," it has taken me three, 10-hour days to do about half an hour of work. I mean, it's kind of astonishing. I mean, the electricians are pretty funny. Mostly the main guy. He is some youngster, I guess, I don't think he is political, but he is pretty pissed off about how covid went down. In the typical: "Covid is only the third leading cause of death in America, how come we don't shut down the world for the other two?" But, you know, there is no way to argue logic with that kind of mindset, so you ignore it, but he is very young. And what is best is that he has some weird music taste. Like, Creed, System of a Down, Godsmack obsession. Like he has some special music channel on his phone that he plays all day. I mean, what is that? Late 90's? No, when was I 21? 24 years ago, so...yeah, 1998 or so. Which blows my mind that you would have that music taste. I mean, is it new Classic Rock? Freedom Rock? Is that Freedom Rock? Turn it up, man! I mean, all the songs that play are songs from like very formative time in my life. I was working as a dry-waller in Wyoming, making something like $7 dollars an hour, with Bart S. Who was a devout Christian, Evangelical. Who LOVED Don Henley. Not the Eagles, Don Henley himself. Who, whenever any Henley song, or even the Eagles too, but specifically Henley would come on in the truck, he would crank the tunes to the max. And he would just stare off into the distance. I mean, he was driving, so he was doing that anyway, but he would get a look in his eyes. I mean, Don Henley really spoke to him. He was a farmers child from Kansas, I want to say.

At the same time I had decided to go to college, so I had to get my GED. Which was studying for. And also, that Summer I mean, I knew I would get into UW or as my friend Dan would call it years later: "Wy U!" Or "Why you!" I mean, they were trying to recruit physics majors, so I decided that would be a good way to go. But I needed to learn math real quick. So I was teaching myself trigonometry at night. Living in the poor part of Worland with two roommates. One of which LOVED Godsmack. He would get a twelve pack of IceHouse and drive around for hours listening to that album, the one with: "I'm not the one who's so far away, when I feel the snake bite into my ve-eains." I mean, sometimes I would drive around with him on the weekends. Hank his name was. He was a second generation oil guy. RoughNeck? What are oil workers called? Roustabout? I mean, he was in line to take over his dad's business, but for now he was just working and drinking like a crazy person. But I had fun with him. And those songs, the same ones the electrician dude here loves so much, I mean, it is like a blast from the past.

[Insert God Smack So Far Away]

I mean, it was an odd Summer. I aced my GED, but I failed the English part, go figure. I mean, my grammer, is pretty stank. But what really did me in was the essay. Why did the college co-ed have sex with a Mexican? Her professor told her to ride an ese. Write an essay. I mean, my Brother Kevin, who is Mexican told me that joke, so I am just telling you from his very valid and politically correct point of view. Don't shoot the messenger. But the idea was that, I mean, in Wyoming, if you get 100% on the GED you get a full-ride to UW. Which is fucking fantastic if you ask me. I mean, college should be free, but in a state like Wyoming, where they beat your head with a shovel into the ground and then while you are bleeding and concussed the give you that shovel, charge you money at the company store, then if you can't dig yourself out of the pile-driven hole they pounded you into, you are a lazy, un-deserving, piece of shit loser, who is too stupid to even call yourself American because if you can't pull yourself up by your boot-straps, what good are you to anybody but some liberal dipshit tax and spend Democrat who is only buying your vote by giving you things you might actually want. What you really want is the worst possible life imaginable, like God intended for lazy scum like you.

I mean, I did not get a 100% on the GED. I got close. But the English bullshit took me down. And the funny thing is that I didn't even know. I really thought I had it in the bag. Like, I mean, my driving license in Vermont. I just didn't study. I mean, Hubris is terminal. Client Nine told us that years and years ago. And he is right. Hubris took him down too. I mean, if I have anything in common with any politician in the entire USA, it is Eliot Spitzer. But he didn't say those words until way later. I mean, if only I had listened to him. I would be a better person today. I mean, whatever. I passed the GED, quite easily. It is kind of a joke of a test. But fucking grammer. I mean, I probably, I mean, that is not true, I have a very long history, I mean, in my life, starting in third grade, when I wanted to win the Young Authers Award, I wrote a great story, of which I can't remember what it was about, but I remember thinking it was gold. Pure gold! I mean, I didn't even get to the finals. And of course, Daniel Angelo, the fucking poster boy of Americana won that year. And, I mean, after that I kind of gave up on English. I mean, I spent hours and hours making up stories in my head. Walking to and from school. I mean, I even remember thinking I had a special talent. It was just that nobody could see it. I mean, whatever. I don't want to talk about it. Now that I started to talk about it. But still, Wyoming public schools can go fuck themselves. I mean, my point is, aside from that thing in Third Grade, and then the failure on the GED, I mean, those two things together are exactly how we got to this exact moment. Where I stand in a kitchen in some empty apartment in Portland, Maine, a computer on top of an over-turned empty box, drinking Ticklers and vomiting diarhea at 3,000 words at a time. You can thank the Wyoming public schools for that. I mean, that didn't come off as negative as I wanted it to. Because people actually like this shit, but my point is, hubris is terminal, study your grammer, you may have to take a GED one day.

I mean, I passed the GED just fine. All aced aside from Big Grammer getting involved. But what was even better is that I got a 100% on my math entrance exam. Which meant that I didn't need to take remedial math. Which, I think that alone would have maybe changed my mind about going to college. But because I aced the exam, I was able to skip a bunch of stuff and start out like a, I don't know, AP student. What is AP again? Advanced Placement? You know, the ones that like do good in school? Which was just enough for me. AND, because I was poor, I got a Pell Grant, and, I mean, another thing, that fucking shit, even garbage states like Wyoming can pull off, In-state tuition was quite minimal. I mean, college=free. But I am not holding my breath. I mean, whatever. Whatever. I won't go into what happened next. I mean, it is neither important to what I am getting at, nor is it fun for me, and I am sure I will one day write it all down in some long-winded diatribe about growing up poor and broken in Wyoming, but still, that Summer was kind of wild.

I mean, I had moved back to Worland because NYC wasn't working out so well. Somehow being poor in a completely different place that was the exact opposite of everything you knew didn't work out the way I thought it would. I mean, I had panicked, quite literally, Uwe, this band I had moved out to NYC with. With Marty, and Jacob, and Rocky, I mean, we had decided to do some tour, with Iver, I mean, I am not going to go down this road. It is just as bad as politics, I mean, not for you, I mean, I don't know what you want, but I do know that when I speak politics, it makes me feel better, but I know it makes you, dear reader, feel worse. I mean, with this, it is the opposite. I am not ready to wax nostalgic about this very specific moment in time. I mean, things changed in a very drastic matter. And much like the GED and the third grade insult to my artistic development, I mean, I met Cara. Who, I mean, poor Cara, I mean, I just finished that book about her, Dishwasher [Italics.] Who just fucking died. I mean, there are pivot points in everyone's life, and aside from dropping out of high-school and moving out of Worland, this is the one that really codified my trajectory. There was no turning back. And it got quite dark for very many years. But also good too, I mean, I am not saying that I can't talk about it, I just don't want to. At the moment.

But hearing these songs all day. I mean, listen to this one:

[Insert I'm On The Outside]

It is all so wild. The dis-affected White male. Just trying to get his feelings out there in the world. And, I mean, I like the songs. I actually like them. Not because they "Speak" to me, but because a few of them are actually quite good, PLUS, they kind of speak to me, not now, and maybe even not then, but, I mean, they are just on the edge of being something artistic that isn't exactly this idea of like, I don't know, the CCR, or Doors, or Stones, or something. Like maybe they are the new Classic Rock. I mean, they aren't "Grunge." Which, I mean, aside from Nirvana, that music has cheesed like milk. I mean, Mark Lanagan died from covid, because he was a covid denier. I mean, that movement was not a movement, it was just a thing. And, I mean, the 90's had some good music, I am not denying that at all. Alice Donut, they were good, Daisy Chainsaw, I mean, what a weird band, I mean, I am not saying that the 90's were bust. I am merely saying that that moment in time shifted the way we process music. Helmet. I mean, things change, and because things change, culture changes too. But what is it with these bands? I mean, I don't mean to give you a listening amalgam, but this song in particular is having a huge resurgence:

"Insert Wake Me Up By Evenescence]

My point is; I listen to these songs un-ironically myself. And I don't know why. I mean, part of it is because I spent that Summer with Hank driving around in his truck on the weekends while he got hyper-drunk on IceHouse while I probably drank Budweiser in a six pack and smoked Camel Wides. I mean, if I think about it, now that I am thinking about it, he didn't even have a 12-pack of IceHouse, that mother-fucker had an 18-pack. I mean, back then, that shit, I mean, maybe it is still the same, but back then, I mean, Bud has like 5% ABV, IceHouse has like 9% or 10% ABV. I mean, like double the alcohol and double the volume. I mean, I remember being quite unsure we would would not make it back to town during those drinking sessions, because he was either going to get pulled over, or we would end up in the ditch somewhere, or worse. The canal or the funeral home. I mean, I said it was dark times, but it was something other than that. I mean, I am not saying we had a death wish, but shit did not matter at that moment. And sure, we were young, trying to figure shit out, but, shit, I mean, I am not saying we were hopeless, I mean, I was doing all sorts of shit to make my future more brighter, I mean, in fact, I did it, and even Hank, he did it too, I mean, he is doing great now, but those moments, with those songs, I mean, and now, now? the idea those songs speak to a different generation. Not just the next generation, but almost two removed? Because this electrician guy is has nothing to do with what came next. I mean, the way things oscillate wildly, as Morrissey would say. Speaking of sad incels. I mean, maybe that is all it is? At the same time during our sojourn, we had another roommate, Roger, who is the prototype incel of this day and age. Couldn't get laid. Hated women. I mean, that dude was too dark for words. I have no idea what he is up to now, but my guess, if he is not dead, I mean, no offense Roger, I know you were trying back then, and maybe you are still trying, but you were looking for an exit. And, I mean, I am sure the internet did not serve you well. I mean, he was racist to begin with, and, I mean, my god, I have not seen a man hate women more than him. I mean, sadly, to make a call-back to earlier, I think I called the guy, Dan, the guy that called, UW, "Why You!" I mean, I worry about him being out in the world sometimes. Like, I mean, I don't even want to say it. But, like walking around Oregon stabbing women in the asses with a knife, kind of guy. Just so pissed off with the world and women specifically.

I mean, ugh, I went too dark. And that asshole, I mean, his whole thing was that he would be a brilliant chef and then, THEN, the bitches would understand his genius.

I mean, my point! My entire point! Is that, I don't know. I don't understand why this guy that I am working with is so invested in this music. And, yes, it is not entirely bad. It's not genius. I mean, the: "Wake Me Up." song is actually genius. It is. I will debate you on it. If you want, but the other stuff, the other two songs I put in this thing, I mean, they are middling at best. But the idea that this very odd moment of male insecurity, when, I mean, to move forward in the narrative I have been laying out, I mean, spoiler for Dishwasher [Italics,] being at a party in Laramie, Wyoming yelling: "More rights, for male Whites!" AND, I mean, right before the Mathew Sheppard murder, I mean, me, I mean, myself, I am on the other side of all of this. I am a queer-bate faggot of the n'th degree. I mean, it's true that I love curly red vagina slide, but I was not in any way accepted in Wyoming Society, I mean, I was: "On the outside, I'm looking in." But somehow, SOMEHOW! These fucking, F250 driving fuckers are now the Reagan punks? I mean, I don't understand. Because, NO, I mean, FUCK YOU! You can't beat Mathew Sheppard to death after tying him to a fence and then claim you are being marginalized. Because why? You had a little boner when he hit on you at the bar? I mean, NO! you are not the victim here! And this new thing, where being a sad, weak-dicked man, in a Society that doesn’t' want anything to do with you because you are gross and need to go away and change, I mean, I don't even know what to do about it. I mean, the more I write, the more I want to punch the electrician in the face. Tell him to fucking open his eyes. I mean, he had to leave today at 5p because he had bowling league. This was after telling me he had so much work that he didn't even know what to do about it. Okay, maybe work more. You boot-strap fucking loser. I mean, if you need to do more work, do more work, you fucking liar. I mean, I don't disagree with you, nobody should have to sacrifice their life to make some other asshole money, but if your entire philosophy is that everyone needs to work themselves into the grave so the Status Quo can be maintained, I mean, FUCK YOU! Stay in that scissors lift until the work is done, fucker! And then, THEN, you can go roll coal while Kid Rock plays your anthem:

[Insert Bah-Widda Bang]

Fred Durst? I mean, maybe don't listen to any of these songs. Just the: "Wake Me Up," because it is good.

Here is a picture of under the bar in the Tasting Room:

[Insert Tasting Room Picture]

[They changed the algorithm about downloading things, so, I mean, fucking PCs. It is good though! The picture. Imagine a good thing. I can’t find it. I’m done looking for it.]

And here is a song that is also, actually good:

[Insert Love Your Money]

Maybe. [It’s not]