[81] Screed City
[81]
*Note: For some reason the spell-check has become disengaged. I mean, I tried. The road may be quite rocky. I blame Zuckerberg. Serfs Up!
01/17/2022 Monday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Lower Granville, Vermont.
Snow day! I guess. I mean, I don't know. It snowed all day, that is for certain, I don't know if it was a snow day though. I mean, it was a holiday. Also, I had no plans to do anything, so technically it might have been a snow day, but it didn't change anything around here. I guess I did some chores. Smashed some cans. Did a bunch of dishes. I filled out the paper work for the radio show. I had to add a BRIEF statement of what the radio show was all about. The thing said to put the discription in the space alloted. There was no space alloted. So I wrote this:
To Whom it may concern,
Vis a vis the BRIEF desciption perpending to the nature of the show I am proposing. I write a weekly newsletter. I plan to use the hour of air time as a way to discuss current issues related to this writing, to play music as related to this writing and do interviews as related to this writing. I shall submit a writing sample if requested.
Thank you,
signed X-------------------------------
Joey Truman
I mean, I won't say it is my finest ticklings, but it will do. I suppose. I mean, I think they are kind of desperate to get new people in there, so, we will see. I could have just electronically mailed the thing, but I thought the snail mail would serve me better. Maybe make me look like a grouchy Vermonter. Old before my time. Pretentious as hell. Slightly annoying and withholding. I mean, I think it will do the job. We will see. I mean, the snow storm today is probably going to gum up the works around here for a couple days. It is supposed to snow on Wednesday too. I just hope those Donkey's get out tomorrow. I mean, I think it was smart to drop them off in East Middlebury instead of Lower Granville. Logistic-wise.
[insert snow video]
I am drying some garlic. The beef jerky turned out amazing. The onions too. Great gift. The dehydrater. Thanks, Mimi! Remember last year when I was trying to dry out cheese and accidentally just made quesodillas? That was a huge lark. I think I can dry cheese with this one though. It has a "Just Air" feature. No heat. But, I mean, I have no desire to dry out cheese right now, I am just saying I can. If I want to.
The Grit's ski race was beyond tragic. Adults are idiots. Both Grit and Z got lost in the woods. There was no one to keep them on track. Z managed to make it to the finish line without any real incident. Sadly, Grit missed the last turn, keep going, for a second round of the track. The Publisher and I yelled and yelled to try and get her to stop. She didn't hear us. She was too focused. Then some kid, an older kid said, "Should I go get her?" The Publisher said, "Yes, please." Then the idiot kid said, "Well, nevermind. I don't want to." So, I mean, Grit did an entire other race. By herself. She was not happy in the end. I tried to make light, I said "Well, you came in last in the first race, but you came in first in the second race." She did not like that. I mean, I don't blame her. That was the wrong thing to say. But I did give her some chocolate that I brought. Which seemed to cheer her up a little. Z on the other hand, she was just pissed off. She got lost and came in like 10th place. I tried to give her some chocolate and she said "I'm not hungry." And I said "You don't need to be hungry to eat chocolate." She did not like that. But whatever. You try and stay positive. And you get nothing but negative Nellys.
I designed a new sticker today and a new t-shirt. I didn't buy them though. My funds are too limited to just throw money around. I guess I need a job. Or something. I mean, I don't need a job, I need money. Those are two different things, but you know what I mean. I can't buy the t-shirts and stickers if I don't have money and I won't have money unless I have a job. And all my money these days is going to Kid Millionaires "I need to spend my money on something," fund. I mean, I harrangued him about dealing with the insulation on the house. About how it was just wasteful and making life miserable here. I mean, I think that means I can do the work myself when the weather gets warm again and just charge him for it. Meaning, I think the bills for the next few months will get paid for by my elbow grease. Which is better than going to his swimming fund. I mean, I really don't mind work, I just have a problem with the balance of power that work is. And the amount of time of my own personal life it put into it when really all it does is make other people more money. Whatever, if I had it my way, complaining about work I am not doing would be billable hours. In a just world Screed City would be my cash-cow.
But! And I mean this. If I get my shit together and get Screed City Radio going, I mean, it won't be money, but it will be a voice out there. You know? I mean, I am being to have a face for radio. I mean, if you recall, I me and Loenardo Decappaciono used to be almost exactly the same, looks-wise. Like in the late 90's in NYC people thought I was him all the time. And then we split ways. Meanwhile, 20 years later, we have joined forces again. And, I mean, he is out there licking peoples ears and I am here trying to get on the radio. I just need to get my handsome mug in the door. Which, unless I did something horribly wrong on my application, I should get an electronic mail about it by this weekend. I mean, I am a little nervous, but if Matt Damon has taught me anything, Fortune Favors the Bold. WMRW is my crypto-coin.
I feel bad for Professor Curly. If she would have just stuck around for a few more days. I mean, the skiing tomorrow is going to be off the hook. I think it snowed 12 inches. They call that a Lexington Steele Storm. Around here. I mean, it couldn't have been any more bucolic if god himself came down here and shot loads on everyone's houses. I mean, I went to sleep, woke up and it was snowing. Then it just snowed and snowed and snowed. All day. Light, fluffy snow. I mean, if only there were kids around and hills and stuff. It would have been a perfect snow day. Plus it was a holiday so the adults wouldn't have to work or something. I mean, the plague has changed that, but you know what I mean. I mean, it was something else. I mean, tomorrow is going to get really cold again. I think I should probably prioritize shoveling the driveway and de-snowing Junior Mint before things get too out of control. But maybe I will also go for a walkabout in the snowshoes. At least walk to the river through the corn fields and back. I mean, I am a little confused that the turkey herd hasn't come back. I wonder if somebody shot them all? I have seen other herds around. Just not the herd that lives around here. Which is too bad. They give me a lot of pleasure.
I am thawing out some ground beef. To make Cubby Bubbys. I need to start working on that book again. I mean, I need to work on something that isn't dark. Something that is weird and fun. I mean, we are in the midst of another cooking revolution, I should get in on the action. I mean, I bought a new kitchen scale. The one I have has these little nubs that are like feet. They are rubber. About three weeks ago I found one on the kitchen floor. I looked at it. Got annoyed and threw it in the trash. I mean, I have about a thousand glass jars filled with crap like this. And since I didn't know what it was I just assumed it was garbage from some other piece of garbage that was floating around clogging up space. By the time I found out that the scale wouldn't work without the rubber nub it was too late. So, instead of going out into the Garbage Room and looking in the trash for the missing nub, I did what any other red blooded American would do and I went onto the computer and bought a new kitchen scale. Which was all fine and good until the thing came. I opened the box. Took the thing out. Turned it over. And there in great big black and white writing it said: Made in China. I mean, I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. I mean, the thing was cheap, that is true, but not so damn cheap that I was expecting it to be trash fresh out of the packaging. But what can you do? I mean, it is far surperior to the one that I have. Even before I threw the nub away. The previous one was also made in China, but it came from TJ Maxx. Which, I don't know if you have ever been to one of these stores, but I have to force myself not go inside whenever I walk by one. I mean, they somehow have taken my brainwaves and put them into a store and then sold them back to me. It is all just wonderful junk. Jewell encrusted martini glasses. Pink flamingo bedroom slippers. They have an entire section devoted to cooking shit. Socks galore. Shit t-shirts that have wonderful decals. I mean, I can't walk in without spending $40 bucks. And all that money just goes to gross American corporations and Chinese malfeasance. I mean, morally I know it is wrong, but I just can't help myself. I mean, at least in like your $.99 cent stores you just feel gross going inside and even if you like the shit they are selling you don't buy it. For some reason, though, in the TJ Maxx you get confused enough that you think there is a possibility that some of the shit they are selling might not be the worst. But you know you are wrong and you are filled with deep shame after you buy it. And then, when it falls apart, you throw the little rubber nubs away and have to go on the computer to buy something new. And then you open the package and voila, China strikes again!
I guess my fix on the can smasher worked. Gorrila glue. Which, I mean, probably Chinese. I mean, listen, when I talk shit about China I am not talking shit about the Chinese people. They are just like us. Shitty government with shitty practices doing their best to destroy the world. But the problem with globalization in a Capitalistic sense is that if you have just one single bad actor the system breaks down astoundingly fast. I mean, whatever, America's minimum wage is what? $12.55 an hour now. $100 dollars a day. $2,000 dollars a month. Subtract $500 dollars for taxes. You can't live off of that shit. I mean, I won't do it. I won't do it. I won't do it. Political rant avoided.
I guess G starts school again tomorrow. Scott is in Italy now. Jonny is in Thailand. He says I can use his apartment if needed. In Harlem. Which, I mean this combo of events maybe means that the reading at Tom's can be back! I mean, I am going stir-crazy I think. Or maybe more precisely, stir-lazy. I have been getting up around 9a. Feeding the goats. Listening to a few things on the computer. Trying not to eat until lunch time. And then kind of doing nothing all day. Maybe going for a drive to get some exercise. I mean, I went all the way to Canada the other day. My abs are still sore from that. I mean, my belt digging into my abs. While I drive. I mean, I had some dream the other day where I could see the way that the world percieved me in a very cogent and almost mystical way. Like my entire life was summed up into this one single reflection. And, I won't lie, it was kind of terrifying. I mean, it was like listening to myself talk on a recording. Stupid and embarressing. I mean, it didn't help that it was so fucking cold up here. You don't go outdoors when it is -9 below freezing. Not if you can help it. I mean, I picked up the guitar again. But then I just have the same old songs that I have been playing for 20 years now. That just fill me with dread. The dread of a million lost opportunities. I mean, playing an old song on the guitar is like reading a wikipedia page of one of your favorite artists from the 90's or 80's. Sure, it has all the information correct, but it doesn't capture that feeling of what it felt like listening to them as a teenager or even your early 20's. I mean, it kind of reminds you of what you were thinking during that time, but it doesn't bring the emotion back. And now everyone is so old and fame is just so dirty. And people age so poorly. I mean, I made the mistake of watching a video today of Leonard Cohen playing a live concert. And, I mean, I love the guy, his music has been with me for quite some time. But when you think about it, when you really think about it. How you thought everything was so small and great when you were young, but in reality, everything is just part of this terrible machine of money, and how much time and energy went into the "Image" of Leonard Cohen, or The Cure or whatever. And how live performance is kind of just an act. I mean, of course it is an act, but you know what I mean. I mean, they weren't speaking to you when they made those songs. They were just making money. And they did it in a way that tricks you into thinking that they are the same as you. When really they are not at all. I mean, I guess when Arnold Cohey, as my dad called Leonard Cohen said:
"This is a song that I wrote about Janis Joplin." And he is in his 70's. And that song has the lyrics "While the limosine waited on the street." And you think about it. Really think about it. I mean, on one hand he is supposed to be the underdog in the story, but on the other hand, he is getting a blowjob from Janis Joplin before they go out and do whatever thing famous people do. I mean, nothing really changes. Art for the sake of art is a scam. I mean, I still remember Iver getting mad at me because I didn't buy any records all those years ago when I couldn't afford records. Not that I can afford them now, but back then I could barely even eat. And he said:
"And you call yourself a musician, man! you don't even own any records!"
What does owning records have to do with being a musician? I mean, I listen to music. I don't know what giving money to David Geffen has to do with being an artist. I mean, if he would have given me shit for not going out to shows he would have at least a little bit of a valid point, but even that, I mean, what? I can't eat, I can't buy records and now I am supposed to pay a cover charge and buy beers so I can say I play music? I mean, the whole thing is a pyramid scheme if you ask me. And it is the jerks up top that are making all the money. And giving me shit doesn't mean that artists that I respect are making money. In fact it is the opposite. The clubs make the money. The beer companies make the money. The bars. The record labels. The promoters. I mean, I would love to support the local artist, but when the local artist is betrothen to Big Liquor concerns. I mean, I would rather buy a slice of pizza, get a six pack of beer and listen to the radio. Then, when I am starving and hungover the next day, I can strum out a few hot hits that end up in the trash can because I forgot that they belonged to the piece of machinery that came from China.
I mean, whatever. I need to start writing some new songs is all my point is. I have a few I need to write for Look Who's Driving Now. Specifically "Your love is in drive, but my heart is in park." And "Can I help you?" Followed by "What can I do to help?" And "Two and Ten Tony."
Two and Ten Tony/
Eats too much balongny/
The dude is a phony/
I don't want to be his croney/
The scene will be good. The son starts a band with the other guys from the driving school. Then the dad joins the band because the mom thinks he needs to express his frustration. The son gets pissed about this. The dad gets drunk during rehearsals and gets kicked out of the band. So he starts a new band with the other kids from the driving school. I mean, it is a little sloppy at the moment, but you get the idea. The dad just doesn't fit in anywhere he goes so he just keeps doing annoying shit until he finally becomes and outcast.
I mean, I guess one good thing came from my interaction with the computer today. Robert Smith said something about being a public figure and how he just tries to keep out of the conversation. He said, "I don't really care to be public about politics, but I will say that anything right of center is wrong." Which, I mean, that is all I am asking from any of these assholes. Right of Center is Wrong. It just is. I mean, I won't do it. I won't do it. I won't do it. Political rant avoided.
But, I mean, Robert Smith. That dude was so cute when he was younger. With his sports shirts and sneakers. And then he got all chubby like me. I mean, it was hard to watch. And then I have had to look in the mirror and watch it go down. From my side. I mean, age is a motherfucker. I mean, all I am saying is that I need to get out. The cabin fever is setting in. The days are short and the nights are long. Is that song lyrics. The days are short and the nights are long. I am too old to be bold, too young to be mold. Too smart to be dumb, to dumb to be numb. Taka-taka taco turniquit. Blah-blah-blah, hawk a loogy high-high.
I mean, I don't even know what I mean. I mean, I dusted off the old acoustic guitar and it gave me all sorts of feelings that I don't know how to deal with is all. And since I have nothing but time on my hands I feel like I should do something about it. Like write songs. Make Cubby Bubbys. Work on the cookbook. Maybe the thing will come from the computer so I can do the Dishwasher cover. Shit! Right, I need to go to the post office tomorrow. I guess I will have to clean Junior Mint off. That solves that. Things are looking up!
[insert A Forest]