It All Changes Tomorrow

I shouldn't even be here today. I have no focus, no concentration and very little will to get anything meaningful done. I am getting stuff accomplished; I just know my mind isn't here today.

I'm a little scared and for some reason feeling a little lonely. But I'm excited too. It feels like there are footfalls of anticipation echoing throughout my heart and my gut.

Tonight I have to be strong. And the same for tomorrow. No matter how scared or confused or lost I get I have to set my jaw and put on my game face. I have to.

They Make The Colors Pop

The dark gray, late October clouds shrouded the Southern end of the Valley in darkness and rain. They were different from the dove gray cover of the morning; these clouds weren't nearly as optimistic. Just big dark gray and blue chunks of fluff strung from horizon to horizon, blocking out the sun and any other source of light from the heavens.

However, in the darkness the yellows, oranges and reds of the dying leaves glowed like brilliant fires against the ominous grays. They lit up the landscape, giving everyone one last glimpse of fall before winter sets in.

What Stinks? Oh Yeah . . . .

I remember back in ad school there was sort of an internal debate within the advertising community about whether hard alcohol makers should be allowed to advertise their product just like beer and wine producers could. Of course back then I was all for it. I mean, why not? Alcohol is alcohol. It's a perfectly legal product.

Now, after seeing what's happening on the television, I've had a change of heart. "Why?" you ask, breathlessly waiting to see what could change a onetime copywriter wanna-be's mind? Because their ads suck.

Seriously. I have never seen such crappy advertising until the liquor companies started advertising. I hate them almost as much as those stupid Yoplait light commercials. "Ready to Tanqueray?" Not any more. Though, those ads don't annoy me as much as the damned Bailey's commercials. Or those damn Disornorio (yeah, I know the spelling is wrong). Both are trying their damnedest to sell hip, urban culture. The Baily's ones are worse though. They keep doing all these cutesy little things that make their consumers look like raging alchies that can't let the last drop of booze go to waste. Plus, they're just annoying. The people are supposed to be beautiful, though the women are a little too Bohemian WASPy for me and the men are either metrosexual or gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But they really don't put the women in the best light and make the men look like cackling, wanna-be hipsters.

Then the Bacardi and Cola ads- don't get me started. Though I admit I like them better than those fucking Bailey's ads. But c'mon, do they really want to go that way?

I will give Jack Daniels a thumbs up though. They've continued the concept of their print ads into their TV spots. They just emphasize the history and pride that goes into making the product. The not trying to be hip makes them hip and the ads work. I'm more of a Jim Beam fan myself, but those ads resonate pretty damn good. Enough that I come away with a more positive image.

What it boils down to is these ad agencies really need to re-think what the hell they're doing with these shitty ads. They don't work. I would love to see what the creative briefs said for them. In my opinion, and this coming from a guy who doesn't even really do that stuff, they need to take a page from the folks who advertise for the breweries- it's not bad to use humor. But only use it if it's funny.

Or if it involves scantily clad women.

Long October

One time long ago the missus said she thought I was an old soul. She decided the way I do things and the way I see things and what not reminded her of someone who's been around the block a lot. I don't know if she'd say that now, and honestly the way I feel these days I don't think so much that I am.

It feels funny, like there's something coming to an end without a new beginning following it. Yeah, I've got a few changes coming up, some big ones. But in the past I've been able to picture my life a few months and even a few years after those changes. These days all I see are black. I know that can't be right.

I also have noticed the yellow leaves a lot more this fall than I ever have. I usually hate autumn and the deciduous trees shamelessly dropping their litter all around and exposing their naked trunks. I've never like the feeling of fall either. It used to depress the hell out of me. It felt the ending of everything versus the beginning (which I know is incongruous to my thoughts on notebooks and New Years). Maybe it's because I loved the extended dusks of summer so much that fast settings of the fall sun didn't give me much to enjoy. But this year it's almost comforting to see the yellow (though not so much the red and brown) leaves and feel the cold, damp fog stick to my skin when I feed the horses. The shortened sunsets with the extended nights feel more natural. In the past, that's what I loved about winter, never fall.

So, tonight I'll have a cup of strong coffee, stare blindly at the TV and think about whether I'm really an old soul or not. Perhaps if I am I'm taking the long route to the center of the city.

Lunches with Mr. Bill

If there's ever any reason to keep in touch with old co-workers after you quit a job, it's because you get to hear all the gossip and all the bullshit of what's going on and count your blessings you're not in that hell-hole anymore doing the shitty job for the shitty wages you were before.

It's funny how much crap someone will put up with at a place. The old guys I understand; they've put in X amount of years at the dealership, are close to retiring and really don't feel like starting over plus it's hard to get a job when you're old (no such thing as age-discrimination my ass!)

But the others, I don't understand. Some of the most brilliant people to have never finished high school work there. Some of the hardest workers with ambition and drive continue to throw in their lot at that place even though they hate it. I guess keeping the tiller in the same current is better than trying to find a different one.

Laughing

Ever feel like you're fighting a battle at two fronts and you know there's more shit coming up in the background?

All you can do is fight, fight, fight and fuck up as much shit as you can. I'm going to laugh while I watch this motherfucker burn to the ground.

What It Comes Down To

I watched Gangs of New York again last night. Though it's loosely based on the oral history of what was going on at the time of the conscription riots and whatnot, and recognizing it's far from being a true story and questioning some other points, it's still one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. Jay Cocks spins one helluva' yarn and Scorsese does one helluva' a job putting it together. I was always afraid it was going to be some obviously political, overly done piece of hype. But after watching it again, it's definitely not that.

Watching it the first time, it reminded me of the current talks of re-instituting the drafts and how much it pissed me off. This time, I found myself thinking what am I willing to fight and die for? Is there anything? I'd like to say yes, but to actually take up arms and risk my life? I don't know if I would or could. Of course I would if I were called up to fight. But to form my own militia or join one, even if it were something I were passionate about, I don't know if I could. Even as pissed off as I was when I saw the footage of the towers falling down, I considered enlisting but didn't. Sure, I didn't want to leave the missus and I had a job and other responsibilities, but I don't know if I even would of if it weren't for those reasons.

I don't know where this is going, to be honest. Sure, if the safety of the missus or someone eles I love was at risk, I'd shift into ass kicking mode and would be willing to bear the brunt of the consequences to follow. It's what happens when you love people. But that's not necessarily what this is about. All I know is that I can question how strongly I believe in something and how far I'm willing to fight for that position and whether or not I'm willing to martyr myself for a cause.

Haven't Done That For Awhile

What a weekend! It's one of those where you hate to go to work on Monday because not only were you having a good time, but you're also too damned tired to drag your ass out of bed. But I did. I dragged it out of bed, up on the stepper thingy, into the shower and to work.

We had some friends come into town on Saturday. After spending some time bullshitting around, they dropped their kids (who are pretty fucking cute) off we went for dinner. After dinner (and a nice GnT followed by a Black Butte Porter) we went home and caught the replay of the Ducks sticking it to the Huskies. It was pretty awesome, but those victories were much more fun when Washington had Neuasshole as their coach. I mean, Rich was such a dick it was fun to beat their asses. Now, it's just sad.

But after the game we consumed much more beer, more beer than I've probably drank since they moved. We also stayed up until 3 in the friggin' morning, just visiting and bullshitting. It was so nice. These two are the kind of people I wished lived closer. They don't give a fuck about your shortfallings and forgive you when you say something ignorant. We can argue and fight or laugh and tell stories and it's always fun. They're good friends. They always have been, and no matter how long it's been since we've last seen each other, will continue to be.

I'm just glad no one was so sick they puked at the pumpkin patch the next day.

Well Hell.

Sometimes that feeling comes over like an early morning fog at the south end of the valley, thick and hard to see through, but occasionally clears up enough so you can see the sun and the blue sky for about 5 seconds before the lonesome feeling blankets you again. The self-loathing isn't with it, which is good, but the way it settles in my chest and my gut just weighs me down.

I also need to start paying attention to zipping up after I take a piss. Today I discovered I did it again. I don't know if anyone saw or not, and luckily these boxers still have a button on the gap so nothing peeks out and says hello to the world. Hell, it's almost like being in Jr. High again with those dopey going-to-school-without-any-pants-on kind of dreams. Only they're not dreams.

But at least I can still open the bathroom door without touching the handle with my bare hands.

In the a.m.

The nice thing about gray weather are the early mornings. While it's black outside and the rest of the world sleeps, the sun quietly lights the clouds on fire. Then, before you know it, it's just a plain gray day.

But you know better. You saw the early morning colors and know you'll see them again in the evening if you're not stuck inside making dinner or watching the news.

Fair Time

One year at the Tulelake Butte Valley Fair the carnival had a dunk booth with a guy dressed up like a clown in it. The friggin' thing was crazy successful. Why? The clown was yelling insults at the crowd and got everyone so worked up that the local police had to escort him from the booth at the end of the night because people had also lined up to kick his ass.

That guy had a great job.

This Is Why You Don't Fuck With Little Old Ladies

http://www.chumfm.com/MorningShow/bits/march24.swf

If it's for real, then damn!

Oh, make sure your speakers or headphones are on.

Something Else I Wish I'd Said . . . .

"just because I don't run my mouth don't mean I got nothing to say." - The Driveby Truckers, Marry Me.

Drive By Truckers

These guys have been around for a while, but last Monday a co-worker let me rip their CD to my box for a listen. You know, it's some pretty good shit.

The album, Decoration Day, pretty much kicks ass over a lot of stuff I've heard lately. It's from 2003 so I'd be damned interested to hear what their newer stuff sounds like as well as their older stuff.

I won't lie, there's some of the songs I just don't really care for. But there are 4 or 5 gems and then a bunch of other good tracks to boot. So what the hell you gonna' do?

There's a couple of reasons it gets on my good side. One, they have a couple of songs about cars. In my opinion, there aren't enough good songs these days about cars. Other than Rob Zombie, who the hell is putting any out? No one, that's who. Another reason is that there's a grimness combined with a tinge of anger and rawness that comes through. The songs aren't pretty; hearfelt but not pretty. One song in particular, Decoration Day, reminds me of growing up and just the fighting and whatnot happens in a family's history. What I love is it feels like these guys could have came from the same area I grew up in with all the same weirdness, sentimentallism and everything else one develops for a home.

It's just a pretty damn good album.

What's Important

I guess the previous post is part of the "what's important to you, Mr. RHS?" question that's been rolling around in my head for a while now.

I know what I want. I want more time. More time to spend with my family and friends and anyone else who becomes important to me. More time to build fence and be outside. More time to write and draw and build callouses on my fingertips. More time to figure out the hell I am and not whom I feel like I'm supposed to be. More time to drive around looking at shit.

Work is essential, or at least it is to me. I know I need it. But I don't know why and I know I sure as hell am not going to find any joy in this path I'm slowly walking down. It's getting down to do or die time and I can feel that in the pit of my stomache. I'm also beginning to realize that as much as I enjoyed my major in college, I probably wasted 4 years and thousands of dollars on something I don't know that I'll ever use. Right now I'll figure out how to get more time.

What's important to you?

In the Meantime

Maybe it's my age or what I do, but I'm starting to get to know more and more people who have said the hell with it and scrapped. Whether they've already done it or are getting ready to, just know I admire the hell out of you for doing it. It's that kind of courage I wish I posessed.

Me though? I'll probably always just move from job to job, sticking around long enough to learn something and apply it to the next place I go. But to a certain degree I'm getting tired of the constant hunt. Yeah, it's exciting to look at the want ads and see opportunities galore and imagine how much it'll change my life. That's the problem I guess. I'm hoping a new job will change my life for the better instead of relying upon myself to actually make the change. I'll never go out on my own because I'm either too afraid to stick my ass out there and fail or I'm too comfortable with things like health insurance and simplified taxes. I've been self-employed and those things suck. Maybe next time, if there is one, I'll make sure I'm truly self-employed and take some of the benefits and not all the burdens.

In the meantime, I'll be rooting for you ballsy few that know you can't stand working for other people and take the time, energy and strength to go out on your own. You all deserve all the success you get for pushing past all the failures you might encounter.

Simple Pleasures

Sneaking outside beer onto a golf course and pouring it into the same can you bought in the pro shop over and over so it looks like you're a lightweight.

Watching a dog dream.

Driving fast on a winding road.

Throwing apples over the fence for the horses to eat.

Watching FLCL for the 100th time or more and noticing something you've never noticed before.

Falling asleep in a dirty pickup with the sun shining on your face.

It's a Friggin' Monday Alright

Aye, it's been a Monday from the very beginning. Starts off with waking up an hour late. Not a big deal, I've been getting up early to exercise. But after a weekend of drinking and whatnot, and especially when you don't want to get out of bed because the fucking dogs woke you up damn near every hour to be let outside, I really needed to do it. So I did.

Walk in to work 15 minutes late. No good excuses except I woke up late, which sucks. Oh well. Fuggit. So I start working away and notice something smells like shit. That's not good. I start looking around and realize I stepped in dog shit. Fuck. Now I'm the guy who smells like shit. I so do not want to be that guy. I think I got it all cleaned up, but occasionally I'll get another whiff of it. Fucking fantastic. Maybe I'll get lucky and there'll be a bomb threat or something.

When you go to work tired, cranky and smelly it makes you wonder why you even bothered to get out of bed.

TGIF MudderFukas!

I made it! I fuckin' made it!

I totally have the attention span of a goldfish today. It sucks. I go to look for a file and then I'm all "What the hell am I looking for?" and then I go do something else and then remember what i was looking for so I ditch what I was doing to go and find the file was looking for. So goes my day.

But I'm feeling optimistic. I'm tired. I don't want to be here. The clouds are nice and keeping the warm in, reminding me of the late Spring clouds that covered the county at home. I go between wanting to sleep and fight and laugh to being calm. It feels good. I think it's going to be a day.

What would you be willing to fight for?

If You Touch Your Dick, Wash Your Hands!

Alright, I'm never eating at a fucking McDonalds again. At least not in this area.

We share a building with this outfit that has a bunch of McDonalds franchises they own and run, so, naturally, they have manager trainings here as well. I walked into the bathroom and there was this guy wearing one of the blue manager's shirts standing at the urinal, tucking all his shirt and everything else back in. Then he flushes the urinal and walks out.

He didn't wash his fucking hands!!!!! And don't you think if anyone, a McDonalds resteraunt manager would know to wash his hands!!!!!

I guess it's a good I'm not supposed to be eating that crap anyways. Now I have even more of an incentive.

Fueling Up

If I ever tell you I'm going to fill the car in the Gateway area, just fucking shoot me.

The 76 couldn't take debit cards because their computers were broke. I found that out after waiting 5 minutes for someone to fucking help me.

The AMPM/Arco across the way could take debit. It only cost $0.45. And you had to guesstimate how much gas it would take to fill it. But if you guessed too much you could go back and they'd give you change back. What a bunch of fucking bullshit. It's shit like that makes me want to build a large fucking fence and light the motherfucker on fire. Just watch the bitch burn to the ground. Too much good stuff. Watch this motherfuckers.

Celeb Updates

Nick and Jessica split up????? Who gives a shit.
TomKat having a kid????? Who gives a shit.
Brad and Jen divorced????? Who gives a shit.

Tommy, hand me my rifle.

October 5, 2005

It's another Wednesday and it means I'm closer to those two days I live the week for. The weather is kind of odd. It's got the autumn chill that one would expect in October, but it goes between being sunny and cloudy. Yeah, it's par for the course. Don't ask me why the hell I'm surprised by this shit.

It's the kind of day I liked when I took drawing classes. After scratching newsprint with chunks of charcoal and graphite for an hour or so we'd get a break to go outside and smoke cigarettes and drink coffee. One guy, Pat, from Montana, was always out there. I never considered myself a smoker, but when it was break time I'd have my cup of coffee in hand and light up a cigarette. It was something about the combination of brisk morning and the dry smell and taste of the cigarette complimented by the warm bitterness of the coffee that seemed to be the perfect partner to drawing with charcoal. Once in a while I'll think of Pat and wonder what he's up to. I never saw him after the class was over and it's not like we were fast friends.

Thinking of Pat leads me to thinking of Matty, now to be known as TJB. I remember him and his letterman's jacket and the yellow '65 Chevy shortwide he drove. TJB liked Marlboros back in high school and last time I saw him he was smoking Winstons. He let me bum one while he gave the stripper a couple of bucks. I wish I could visit TJB and take the piss out of him about his long hair and beard and everything else. In the summer he'd get so tan everyone thought he was a Mexican out in the fields changing pipe. It seems all he ever wanted was to fit in, which is what got him in trouble to a certain degree. I get a little sad thinking about the kid he was and how he got to where he is. He's a good guy- one of the best.

Now my mind floats to all the people I know and have known and hope to meet someday if I haven't met them already. Sitting here seems pointless. I guess I'll go get my pills or something.

Important!!! (opinion piece)

I know on the outside it might look like something related only to a specific industry and may seem a little inconsequential to the rest of us. But we need to pay attention to this. This is the kind of stuff that not only changes how business is done but changes the rules of speech in this country. The consequences of this case will be felt all through the internet.

Aaron Wall speaks.

What we have here is a business that garnered a really bad reputation for the work they did and then became upset when word got around that they were no-goodnicks. Or at least that's what I understand (yes, I'm trying to make these "people" don't get the bright idea to sue me). Their company name was trashed in SEO and SEM forums all around the internet. One business owner in particular, ticked off by what they had done, founded TrafficPowerSucks.com. Pretty easy to see why this particular company was upset about that, but Best Buy, Circuit City and the rest have similiar sites set up in their honor and you don't see them go around suing people. You also have Mr. Wall, who mentioned how crappy their services were in a blog. Now he's being sued as well. By the way, the BBB even says to watch out for these people.

So, what we have is an issue of freedom of speech. Blogs are notorious for their opinions and at times mis-information. But you still have the larger issue of this company getting a bad reputation and instead of trying to remedy it and re-build they sue. The facts are there. But, if this company wins, as bloggers and site owners you will no longer have the right to trash stuff without fearing the wrath of deep-pocketed businesses. If you hate a movie and think its writing hints at the director having a pedophilic edge, you may be sued.

All I'm saying is that if this goes through, watch your ass. And this piece is a straight up opinion piece. These are my opinions.

BTW-

I don't think I explained exactly what the smell of victory was. After the Jinx started, I put my hand to my face. It was covered in spilled beer, gasoline, oil, grease and about thirty years of road grime and dirt. The scent was as familiar and natural as the smell of your grandfather's work coat or an old song that would gently wake you up in the middle night when you left the radio on. The Olds smelled like that and so did my hand- the smell of victory.

This guy

you all need to check out this guy's blog. it's funnier than shit. That's assuming you find shit funny. I'd of said funnier than hell, but from what i've been told hell ain't all that funny, unless you're Satan and you get to do all the cruel shit to people. then it's probably hilarious.

Please, check out the art teacher. It's worth your time.

One of those deals.

I don't know anymore I'm tired of everything I'm tired of my clothes I'm tired of the music on this fucking computer I'm tired of this desk I'm tired of my car and the ringing in my ears and pills I have to take and all that shit and I'm tired of it all and I just don't care anymore and I want to go somewhere or do something or totally disappear, totally fucking be gone from all this and all the shit I do all day long and not tell anyone or anything a fucking thing about it- just be all one day he's here and the next day he's a fucking ghost. gone.

Overheard at a hockey game

" . . . you're the worst fucking hockey fan in the world."

Hey!

And I ask you everyday how it's going over there! Ah well. Good luck. I know you're gonna' kick ass.

Hmmm

I'm afraid someday soon that little guy in the back of my head that keeps me from making snarky and shitty comments to people (well, people that are assholes) is going to go on vacation. If you any of you all see me with a black eye you'll know the little bastard has gone and left me and the loud mouth alone.

It's a Monday

Looks like the rain is back for the year. We had our week of autumn and now here comes winter!

I don't mind the rain too much. Where I grew up it rarely rained. It seemed like it was only sunshine and snow except for in May and in the evenings of late August. The late August thunderstorms were the best. About three in the afternoon the sky would darken and the lightning would strike while the thunder rolled. It seemed like the electricity in the air would creep into your bones and fill you with extra energy for hauling in the last bit of pipe or getting the dams set in the ditches. They weren't always good news though. I remember one spring a bolt struck a tree and killed about 4 of my grandparents's horses- including my gramma' favorite barrel racing horse. And if you had hay down, the rain was no good. You'd have to do extra work to let it dry and wait longer to bail it. But I still miss them and love them. Around here we occasionally get lightning, more lately, but not as much as at home.

I guess the weekend was pretty good. We had a lot of family up and it was good to see them all, though I miss them when they leave. I haven't had the chance to spend more than an hour or two with my mom and grandma for since Christmas, so it was nice to take them to dinner and visit until midnight. I miss them. Same with my in-laws. I'm pretty damn lucky to be able to stay up to 11 on a Sunday night talking to the missus' mom. Maybe that's why yesterday and today have such a lonely feel.

So, now the Jinx is running and I got to see some family. Not a bad weekend- just exhausting.

The Smell of Victory

Most of the time was spent trying to get the big, black monster up in the air. We pushed it. We jacked it. We fought with the son of a bitch. But $50 cash money, a few dead beers and a starter later the Jinx started up for the first time in three years.

Damn it was a beautiful sound. You could still here the clacking of a sticky lifter, but the old 455 purred like a sabertooth cat. The rich, high octane fuel smelled better than lavender or roses or fresh cut hay to me. Unfortunately it was strong enough to make the place smell like the back room of the Humane Society, but at that moment, Saturday afternoon, the tart's birthday, the '65 98 came back to life.

Maybe I'll keep it afterall.