[96] Screed City

[96]

02/12/2022 Saturday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Lower Granville, Vermont.

Seven and a half hours of OSHA training today. I would have done all ten hours, but they wouldn't let me. Don't know why. I suppose it has to do with an eight hour work day? Maybe I was supposed to take lunch at some point? I mean, the thing is so very BORING. And dark. Very dark. People are constantly falling off of scaffold or being trapped by heavy machinery or losing limbs or being electrocuted or falling off of ladders. And it turns out the most likely workers that die from workplace falls? Wait for it...Iron Workers. I mean, technically I am a Rigger, but still, my job falls under the Iron Worker definition. I mean, I know my job it dangerous, it is just a little much to be told so in no uncertain terms. I mean, at least BMI takes this shit seriously. I Wiess? Not so much. There are quite a few memories I have that could have gone the other way. Things that happened that didn't and shouldn't have happened, but luck was on my side, or a co-workers side. I mean, all the times we worked on three bucks of aluminum scaffold with junk out-riggers. Working in the seating area of auditoriums. Pushing against the wall. Hoping the scaffold wouldn't tip. I mean, there was this one time I was cranking on come-along, the thing hooked to a fire curtain arbor, just cranking along, nothing happening. Unbeknownst to me that thing was snagged, about to rip itself out of the wall, the arbor, a very old one, nothing keeping the stage weights secure aside from pure gravity, I mean, had the thing snapped loose it would have tipped over, dropping hundreds of lbs. of stage weight to the deck. I mean, I was cranking and cranking. Nothing doing. I am wondering "What the fuck is going on?" I look down. The arbor is bent, about to snap in two. And fucking Toby is working right under it, removing a floor block or something. No hard hat, no knowledge that he is standing under the Sword of Democles’. I mean, I stopped cranking. Calmly yelled down for him to "GET THE FUCK OUT FROM UNDER ME." I mean, Toby, I actually liked Toby, he was a hard worker, young, stupid an musician, in fact we played in a band together at one point. With Rambona, Joey Wyoming and the Homeowners. But I digress. Toby got up and moved away. And, luckily I was able to reverse the come-along and get the arbor back in place and we were able to remove the obstruction that nearly put an end to Toby, but still. That kind of shit happened all the time with I Wiess. Not because we didn't know how to do the job, but because they didn't give two shits. Nobody got trained about how to be safe. The less safety on the job site the better the profits. And, I mean, they were also stealing labor monies from us at the same time. I mean, taking this OSHA thing, I mean, I realize that when I eventually did take the OSHA training like 15 years ago, it was just a formality. They had me and JJ and Josh Nylon and Murphy and Clayton kind of sit around in the shop office for a few hours, drinking coffee and eating donuts. Then we signed a paper and that was that. Certified. I didn't realize at the time what a load of horseshit it was. I mean, I kind of assumed it was horseshit, but whatever, I was getting paid to drink coffee and eat donuts. I mean, if I really think about it, they didn't want to actually train us to be safe, they just needed the plausible deniability that came with us signing the papers. Had we actually understood how unsafe the workplace was, there would have been some serious changes needed. I mean, what is really the craziest part of all of it, is that nothing bad ever happened. I mean, back then, back in the olden days, that shit, when things went wrong, it was always the worker's fault. Never the employer. If you had a bad thing happen, like when Clayton ended up tipping a lift into the seats because he had to take the front outriggers off to get the job done, the company fired his ass. Because it cost them money. I mean, whatever. I think it is insane that we look at these things as a bad thing. These "Regulations" that companies constantly complain about. That the American Right is constantly trying to get rid of. I mean, fuck all of it. The idea of dying at work to make $25 dollars an hour? And that is my "Right" to "Work"? I mean, I have some things I want to say to Jayboo now. I think this idea of "Freedem" that comes with "Feeding your family" and whatever nonsense. I mean, we are the bottom of the fucking barrel. The only real freedom we have is to not be abused by people with only money in their mind. I mean, right?

Whatever. Sorry I came out of the gate a little strong there. I mean, Hi, I am Joe, allow me to gently massage you with my diatribes. How are you?... MmmHmm, that is nice. I hope that works out for you... It has been a long Winter, but Spring is coming...Yes, you are right, we should stay positive. Things will get better for sure...No, it was nice to have this talk. I look forward to talking in the future.

Alright, now that formalities are out of the way. What the fuck!? Just joking. That workplace diatribe finished itself. I just need to make sure I am careful at work. That is all. It is not that complicated. I mean, part of the job is understanding the job. Which, you would think that would be obvious, but then again, I mean, it's not like editing a manuscript or something. I mean, if I forget to add a comma or whatever at work, I mean, a giant thing of stage weight could whack a dude into the funeral parlor. I mean, there are some things in this life where having a little bit of luck and a little bit of a lack of sense actually can protect you from harm. I mean, my problem with this work, or why I don't have a problem with this work, is because I lack sense. It is all intuitive. For the most part. But then again, I am not usually in charge. But that is going to change in about nine days. And I think this if funny. I mean, I do think it is a little prescient that I am taking the OSHA 10 course right now. Of all times. Because it is important. It is important for me to know this, but since I am now in a position of power about it all, I mean, I don't have to just be an hourly employee getting paid off with donuts and coffee and a few hours of non-work in order to save a company millions of dollars when something goes wrong and they get sued to death. I mean, I am always very confused about how these companies make money, but I mean, in the end, it is all just a big Ponzi Scheme, the work we are doing now has been paid for by things that happened years ago and the next jobs will be paid for by jobs we are doing now, so on, and so forth. I mean, if we lived in a 1 to 1 relationship with reality, none of these companies would exist, but because we live in a rigged system, all the failures now won't show up for a decade. By then it won't matter anyway because we will have a decade of new contracts anyway. And as long as bills get paid and workers get paid what does it matter?

I mean, sorry. I tried to pull back and instead I just went full bore again. I mean, I went to Middlebury yesterday. I mean, it is a complicated story that has private details, but I was buying some stuff at the pharmacy and paying with cash. Which was taking a while and the cashier said:

"They don't give this stuff away, right?" I mean, what I was buying was normal body stuff. Stuff that doesn't require a Peanut Gallery. But I got one anyway. I said:

"Yeah, it is very specific."

"You don't need it until you need it."

I mean, who does that? In what world do you get commentary from the pharmacy about what you buying? Don't they train these people? I mean, I kind of liked it. I kind of wish there would be more commentary from the cashiers of the world. Because being a human and being alive is humiliating. Bodies are gross. But natural. I mean, it's not like I was buying large condoms. And she was like, "Oh, you got a big one [wink.]" But still, it reminded me of that scene from Me, Myself and Irene where Jim Carrey has a mental break because the woman cuts in front of him in line at the grocery store.

[Insert M, M & I shopping video]

I mean, there is something about buying embarrassing things at the pharmacy that is just so humiliating for everybody. But the idea that the woman decided to comment on it. I mean, kudos, but also, what the hell?

Speaking of dirty bodies and dirty times. The poor goats. The weather here has vacillated wildly as Morrissey would say. I mean, I guess his thing was oscillation, but still. We got a heat wave. The watering hose melted. So now the watering dish is working again. I bought a spring for it. It is running a little fast, but so what? I would rather the water keeps coming out and the hose doesn't freeze than the thing freezing and having to take out buckets of water every time I feed those assholes. But like everything, there is a cost. I mean, the water, I believe, is on a pump. I mean, I know the water that comes into the sinks is on a pump. An electric pump. When the electricity goes out there is no water. I can only assume that the hose water is the same. And, the irony, the well is right next to the watering bowl. But the water has to come to the house first, then go back to the watering dish, then flow out onto the ground to get sucked down back into the well. But it is better to have the water running even if it means it takes money and electricity to do it. I mean. Check this out:

[Insert Goat Shit Moat Photo]

The poor goats. So gross. They can't catch a break. The ground is frozen so the water just stagnates. I think tonight it is going to freeze again. I am not looking forward to going out there tomorrow morning. To feed them. I might need hammer some nails into the bottoms of my boots. Just to get there. I mean, I have about three weeks of compost that needs to get into the compost pile. But I have yet to find the energy and commitment to get it out there. I mean, I have to do it. It is just rotting away at this point. Stinking up the joint. But still. Why must everything be so very obstructive? I mean, I put the compost pile inside the goat enclosure so the other animals wouldn't get to it. Now it is me that can't get to it. I mean, I really do just want to dig big holes everywhere on this property. I mean, 90% of my trash would go in them just fine. The paper and the compost and whatever else that will just rot away and be good soil some day in the future.

G has a dance at their school tonight. Which is wild. What kind of dance does a weird art school in the middle of New York have? Is it just kids standing around looking cool? Then every now and again somebody walks out onto the dance floor and does like a break-dancing move? Then they all sneak out back to vape? Maybe someone does some spoken word?

I told this to Professor Curly and she had the same questions. I mean, the thoughts about it reminded me of living in Denver back in the late 90's. Hanging out at Muddies. The coffee shop. We would go there and drink very stiff coffee. Smoking thousands of cigarettes. Just kind of hanging out, looking cool. For hours at a time. If I remember right a cup of coffee cost $2 dollars and we would drink it black. Because that was the cool way to do it. Like we were French Americans or something. I mean, I don't remember the coffee being anything but strong. And everyone was very cool. And they had a juke box. And about once and hour somebody would play Cool Cat Strut by the Stray Cats. And then for about three minutes everyone was the coolest dude in town. If you got up to go to the bathroom you had like a cool glide. Nobody talked. If you got up to get a cup of coffee you did it with style. Even the people working there did this. It was just so very cool. Then the song would end and everyone would go back to whatever they were doing. Playing chess. Smoking cigs. Ignoring people. I mean, I feel like Keith was the coolest of all of us. With his suit jacket and pasty skin. His black pokey hair standing up. He would swipe it to the side. Say he needed some sugar or something. Glide on over to the coffee station. Everyone would have a look. "Who is this cool guy?" The he would come back. Light a smoke. Move his knight or whatever. And everything was right with the world. I mean, what a time. I mean, if somebody could bottle that feeling, that would be great. I mean, I don't even remember what we would do after those sessions. I mean, I knew we would be high as shit from the coffee and the cigarettes, but where would we go? Walk back to High street really fast with our hands in our back pockets? Watch television until we fell asleep? I mean, we didn't have jobs or money. I was too young to drink. Alexis too. She was younger than me. I mean, was Jacob there at that point? I mean, how do you remember something that lasted like two months when you were in your late teens? It was so intense at the time, but not so intense that you remember the details. I mean, I remember a lot of the details. That Alexis couldn't afford tampons so she would just use toilet paper. That she was trying to be a model and some pervert was taking very dangerous and illegal actions against her liberties that would probably put him in jail if it got reported. I mean, I know that we ended getting jobs at TicketMaster and Alexis refused to work but she had a cat that wasn't spayed so when it went into heat she just screamed and screamed all night long. I mean, there was that beanbag chair that we brought into the apartment from the alley that stank really bad. That we put back in the alley and the next day it was gone and then the next day it was two dumpsters down. And then the next day it was gone. And then the next day it was two dumpsters down. Until eventually it was gone from site, but probably just zigzagged through the Denver alleys until eventually it ended up at the dump. I mean, I remember that Jacob was around for that, but was he living with us then? Or was he living with Mike? On Race street? I mean, was Mike around at that point? And UWE? I just don't know!

I mean, my point is, oh, to be young again. A high school dance. With cool kids doing god know what. That was a long time ago. I suppose. And I am not being sentimental, in fact, kind of the opposite. It is more like the Peanut Gallery at the pharmacy. Commentary on something that is just normal life but makes you embarrassed enough that you have to say something. I mean, I can tell you that almost every second of that time then, in Denver led me directly to where I am today. And at the time it all seemed very exciting. But so what? I mean, is G having a very specific time right now? Are things they are doing leading exactly to their future? I mean, as a parent, this makes me very nervous, but I am also excited for them. I mean, being a teenager is a motherfucker. I mean, I guess is what I am saying.

And what can you do? Here is a song from that moment:

[Insert Peter Murphy "Chews you up."]

Peter Murphy was the singer from Bauhaus. If you care. We first heard this song in Greeley, Colorado. The kids that went to the "Alternative" high school knew about him. I mean, Rocky's dad lived in Greeley? And did Tark have some connection to Greeley too? Tark, that poor guy. I mean, he is either in jail or dead. He had some moral proclivities that didn't help him out very much. I mean, if he is dead it is because somebody killed him. I mean, not to end on a sad note, but people are people. And things get nasty when everyone is starving. Even if everyone is still basically children. I mean, we all need a moral compass. And some of us don't have one.