Notes From My Cave

Imitation Kagan Table

2011-08-16T20:12:00.003-05:00

I built the base for this table and made a template for the glass top about a year ago. She finally got the top made and forwarded an image of the finished product:

Custom Board and Batten

2011-06-14T23:17:00.001-05:00

Client had an idea of what she wanted but could not quite define it. After several conversations, sketches, and sample pieces this is what happened. Custom milled everything from raw mdf, except the ply panels and bed crown beneath the shelf. Battens return to rails via drop-leaf table bit after a fair amount of head scratching and a new homemade router table.

Lost money on this one but client was thrilled with the result and I rather enjoyed being able to create a desired result from a vague idea.

Meaning of Life

2010-07-22T00:57:00.002-05:00

1. Produce and consume
2. Reproduce producers and consumers
3. Try to get on TV
4. Die

Inspection Saga

2010-07-21T23:38:00.002-05:00

Recently I wrote of an effort to satisfy code violations at my house. Here's what has happened since.

After a weekend of work, by me and others helping, a large portion of the list was taken care of and ready for re-inspection on Monday. On Monday, I hung around until the inspector showed up to give everything a half-assed once-over and tell me everything looked good. "Just need to final out those two open permits," he said. I think cool, but ask him "You're the one that made this citation, why aren't you inspecting it?" "Oh that's gotta be done by another guy."

Next day I schedule my day around court, go to court and sit there for 2.5 hours to be told to "final out those two open permits and come back to court in a month." I immediately schedule a re-inspection with the "other guy" and get the work done in time for said re-inspection, which was this morning.

Again, I schedule my day around them. The inspector finally shows up and everything looks good. But he starts looking at something else, something peripheral and insignificant in relation to the sole reason he was there. I tell him "you're here to re-inspect this. This is done. What's the problem"?

He won't sign off on the permit. My attempts at reasoning turn to a frustrated rant about the waste of time and money spent waiting on them, lost pay, going to court, material costs, being subjected to their whims, etc. Oh well. See ya next time.

There's really nothing else to do. Satisfy their whims. Waste your time and money because they said so.

Or go live in a tent.

Kagan Project

2010-07-15T16:01:00.004-05:00

This project has been on hold for close to a year. Now all stars have aligned and wood has been purchased. I will be attempting to recreate this:

Summer Sunday

2010-07-11T23:07:00.004-05:00

I spent all but a few of the available daylight hours this weekend working on my house. Made it to dinner with the parents for Mom's birthday, but otherwise measuring/figuring, going to buy materials, tearing stuff up, rebuilding it, painting, caulking, guttering, glazing, etc. I didn't finish everything that needed done, but I still have Monday morning to finish a few things before the inspector arrives, and I think the combination of a seemingly cool inspector and the progress made will (hopefully) merit a favorable result, i.e. , hopefully I will not have to pay all or part of the pending fines when I must appear in court on Tuesday.

I've been putting off most of the work for months, some even years, due to time constraints, finances, familial obligations, and a lot, lot, of my own damn stubbornness. I've stated before, and those who know me know, that I have a hard time accepting a municipal entity dictating how I spend my time and money. In fact I've complained and bitched and avoided doing anything about it for quite some time. I understand the need to correct safety hazards, I understand keeping property values up. Most of my issues are purely cosmetic. Part of what riles me is that these inspections only apply to property changing hands, when someone moves in or out. Granted, I moved in years ago and have been playing games with these people, but, for example, every time I walk out my door I'm faced with a neighbor's window that needs even more attention than anything on my house, but it wouldn't be a violation until they moved, which, to me discredits the argument that these inspections serve to maintain property values, which are not very good to begin with in my sector of the woods. I is digressing.

So I'm done bitching about the rules. I talked about it with my friend/recent employer and we agreed that's what being a man/adult means: doing shit you don't want to do because you just have to do it, and not complaining about it. This is not necessarily a new revelation for me, I've just been too much of a kid to want to accept it. It reminded me of this poem from my book learnin' days:

Those Winter Sundays

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Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

Robert Hayden

So this weekend I finally bit the bullet, spent money instead of making it, didn't have my daughter or other family in town, and got a lot done. Municipal interference in the private domain or not, this shit needed done, the place was an eyesore. I wasn't alone; my dad, and a couple of coworkers/friends helped out quite a bit, for which I am extremely grateful. I have a hard time asking for help, as I never want to burden others with my problems, especially ones of my own creation, but some people, like my father, just won't take no for an answer. And "S" put in 16 or so hours over the weekend, partly for a little money, partly because he doesn't want to be at home, but I'll bite my tongue next time I find myself judging or criticizing him.

I'm closer to getting out of this mess so I can move on to other messes. So what if I had to spend more money than I made this week and spent two days in a sweat-soaked, semi-controlled state of mania? I feel good.

Carla and RJD

2010-07-01T20:42:00.002-05:00

One of these people shrieked into a microphone. .. The other played a sourpuss cocktail waitress on a popular sitcom...Can you tell them apart?

When the shrieker's song came on the radio, after I had been painting trim for too many hours in dim light after not enough sleep, this "separated at birth" scenario seemed very funny to me.

Saturday Nights at Home are Alright/Current Addictions

2010-06-27T00:44:00.005-05:00

For most of my adult life, being out and about on weekend nights was a given.

Tonight, I got home after working and running around and spent most of the night researching and pricing tools online. I didn't think this was odd until someone texted me to see what I was doing and I replied telling them what I was doing, and they thought it odd. After allowing that I was drinking some beer, their concerns were assuaged.

I've been into the World Cup more this go around than previous years, and have been watching most nights. A few weeks ago, the inescapable din of those horns from the stands drove me nuts. Now I fall asleep to this fabulous white noise. If I'm not actually watching, the commentary ("Quite an unfortunate effort, really" e.g.) and the lack of commercial breaks really makes for a perfect, subdued audio backdrop. Baseball and (American) football broadcasts, in contrast, and American TV in general I suppose, are so full of commercial breaks and graphics and unnecessary noise and "WATCH THiSS!!!" sensory overload, I find this more pleasing, more welcome. At any rate, the U.S. loss was disappointing, but I plan on following the results. I suppose I'll root for England now...

In between work and sleep and "footy" I find time to indulge in the Trailer Park Boys series via netflix. I'm in season 4 at this point. Smartly stupid beautiful ugly fun is how I would describe it. If you're not familiar here is a sample:

One More Day

2010-06-10T19:22:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow is my last day of employment at the job I've had for the majority of the past eight years. I'll be navigating the unpredictable seas of self-employment.

I'm excited to make a change, and I'm scared as hell. The bottom line is my life doesn't work how I want it to, so I have to do something different.

I've never wanted to be involved in the "business" side of things, such as insurance, and licenses, and record keeping, and being on the phone more often than I like; I'm more interested in the craft than the contracting. But I've always wanted the freedom allowed by writing my own ticket. With one comes the other, I suppose...hopefully.

It's been a long run full of good and bad days, and dozens (hundreds?) of coworkers and characters I wouldn't have met anywhere else. My boss and friend has been frustrating to work for at times, as I have been more than my share a frustrating employee, but he has helped me out in many ways, many times, more than any other employer should and more than most friends would.

So thanks for everything Tim, I'll be around.

Still Here

2010-05-20T23:59:00.005-05:00

For what it's worth I'm still here. Between working full-time and working side night and weekend jobs, and not caring enough to make the required effort to feed the noisy hamsters that power my computing machine enough that I can use it, I don't feel much of a need/ability/responsibility/something else to update a pointless "blogue."

Here's the jist of it: I go to work, then I go to work. Somewhere in between I pay some bills watch parts of baseball games or Trailer Park Boys or some such and sleep. While I'm not working I worry about the work that needs to be done and dream of not working at the work in which I'm uninterested.

This includes work, on my so-called "personal" property, deemed necessary by a local government entity who assumes the right to grant me "permission" to live at "my" property. I have managed to live at my property for years, without permission, because I never asked for it, because I don't believe in it. Start paying 51% of the mortgage and we can talk...I'll even defer to you when unsure of what toothpaste to brush with, or what time I should go to bed... Do you really expect me to ask permission to live in property I own and pay taxes? Oh, I forgot...I don't really own anything.

Things In My Truck

2010-03-09T22:55:00.001-06:00

Might as Well Be 1987

2010-03-09T22:31:00.004-06:00

Went skating at St. Charles park on Sunday with my friend I know from skating together over 20 years ago. Before doing so we had to stop at his mom's house where we used to hang out, and get gas at a station where my brother used to work, at which point the guy getting gas next to me turns out to be another guy the two of us and my brother know and skated with over 20 years ago. And I was listening to Naked Raygun.

Beat those coincidences.

New Life For Some Dead Maple

2010-03-09T22:16:00.002-06:00

Latest finished project. Involved some head scratching, some revision, a lot of cuts, and a little more head scratching. But they all do...

End result is a faithful representation of the design.

See it in "action" here.

Pi My Eye

2010-02-08T16:19:00.002-06:00

As mentioned in the previous post, this past Saturday night involved too much of the wrong alcohol, so I had very little desire to drink at our little Super Bowl gathering. I did look forward to gorging myself on unhealthy food, however. Someone brought chili, another brought red beans and rice. Lots of chips and such. Good stuff.

My contribution was a pizza from Pi. One friend and I had never tried it, heard good things, etc. I was less than impressed, especially considering with all the raves I've heard about it I was expecting the second coming of pizza. To me it was a whole bunch of sauce on some frozen and re-heated cornbread. My friend had a similar impression, asking what toppings were on it, as they were truly undetectable. I wondered if they had slipped me the wrong pie, but a misspelled version of my name had been written on the box, so I ruled that out. Maybe I would enjoy the thin crust version, but I'm not willing to spend another $22+ to find out.

I should have gone with my gut and ordered LaPizza.

ROOT of All Evil

2010-02-08T15:09:00.002-06:00

A few of us gathered at a friend's and went out Saturday night. He broke out a bottle of this stuff:
When I woke up on my friend's couch on Sunday, things were a little disheveled: A broken bowl, a bunch of steak knives on a scratched glass table, my head.

When we reconvened at the same house to watch the Super Bowl, I learned that the host had remained in bed til 4pm and his jaw hurt. None of the four people involved had any idea what happened, other than the fact that I couldn't have been responsible for punching anyone in the face or breaking anything as I apparently made a beeline for the couch and passed out. This was memorable to one friend because she apparently tried to cover me with a blanket, to which I apparently replied, "Get that fucking shit off of me," which apparently made her laugh.

Three of the four of us had a couple of beers and remained mostly sober while watching the game. The fourth was back at the Root and kept asking me if I wanted some. "Fuck no." I haven't talked to him yet to see how his Monday panned out. I might not want to know.

I do not intend to disparage this brand of liquor, however I would suggest that anyone not accustomed to consuming 100 proof alcohol do so with a little caution, or you might break stuff, hit someone, or foolishly turn down offers of blankets from your friends and not remember it.

Yeah, Whatever

2010-02-03T20:20:00.002-06:00

I have a pretty frustrating way of computing that sometimes allows me to connect to the Internette and sometimes doesn't. As a result, I post quite infrequently, thereby denying my handful of readers fresh updates of my trivial rants and mundane doings. For this I guess I apologize, but like you, I don't really care that much. For what its worth, I will attempt to recap what has transpired since my last transmission.

Most noteworthy, I am back at work on a full-time basis. Sometimes it's ok. Sometimes it sucks. At least I know where my next paychek (like a paycheck, only smaller) is coming from. That nagging feeling of wanting the day to be over with so I can get on with my life is back. Then I remember that I don't have that much of a life. I will say it's better than dealing with people on craigslist who want skilled/custom work performed for fast food wages; or, as we like to say, it's better than a stick in the eye. I get to work on side projects that I enjoy, work is somewhere I have to go and do all day, like everyone else.

I have actually gone out a few times, and good times were had. Mostly I got really drunk and laughed a lot. One night I ended up at a house party and may or may not have been caught making out with the hostess by a passive-aggresssive bottle throwing date, who may or may not have wanted to/been able to kick my ass, but did not try. No harm done. Another night involved football and a whiskey-crazy friend grabbing large breasts and generally acting hilarious and insane. I went bowling for the first time in a long time and ended the night at a somehow legal topless bar in the county. Saw two shows at the Pageant and came to the realization that I really don't enjoy seeing shows at the Pageant, either because it usually sounds like a loud, muddled mess, or I'm too short, or I'm too old, or all of the above.

I went around for a couple weeks taking shit off my friends for a broken tooth after a 17 year old repair fell out, and have since had it re-repaired. I played full-court basketball and was really sore for three or four days. I got to hang out with my daughter and admire her laugh and her imagination. I think about skateboarding all the time, even though I rarely do it and all I can really do at this point is roll around a little. I pay the bill for whatever is going to get shut off the soonest and literally tell the others to fuck off.

Business as usual. I'll try to post more frequently, and interestingly...

Handywork

2010-01-08T20:44:00.007-06:00

Finished and delivered this thing a few days ago. Enjoyed the work, made some money, he was pleased with the result.

What's next?

Limbo Land

2010-01-05T22:55:00.004-06:00

Past weeks have been strange as I work irregularly and don't really have the set schedule I've had for years. This is a curse and a blessing. I've always hated having to be at a job at a certain time, be there all day, every day. I find it very limiting.

So most days now I have an abundance of time on my hands. Sometimes I wake up at 6am, sometimes I wake up at 6am and then go back to sleep until 9 or 10. I might drink some coffee. Maybe a crossword puzzle. Play guitar. Read part of a book. Watch a movie. Look for jobs. Exercise a little. Un-clutter something. Apply to jobs I don't want. Think about working on something. Work on something. Spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing over things like 1960s Honda CB77s. Look for work again. Realize I'm hungry. Eat something. Go on little bike rides. Cringe at the sound of the furnace kicking on. Apply to jobs I'm not qualified for. Converse with people that want money that doesn't exist. Wonder if I should shave. Shave and wonder if I shouldn't have. Write things and delete them. Talk to my dog. Watch football. Think, about everything, a lot. And then go to sleep at some point.

Really, it's kind of awesome, in a not so awesome, not very exciting kind of way. I enjoy the time, and I'm never bored. Sure I could use a little time away from my own head. Sure I'm behind financially, but I was behind working 50 or so hours a week plus whatever side jobs I pulled. Fuck it. Where's the incentive? I needed a little non-vacation vacation. God forbid a faceless corporate entity has to wait for the drop in the bucket I owe them. I'll get around to it, I always do, I tell them. Get in line. It's not like they are going to send any legbreakers around. Incidentally, I find it amusing that most of the CSRs I speak with are foreign; not that they have directly taken my job, but how many laid-off victims of their badgering are in their current situation as a result of being replaced by "Kent" from the Philippines or "Julie" from India?

Anyway, I'm working some tomorrow. And if the snow comes as predicted, I'll be one of those bleary-eyed dipshits driving around all night plowing and shoveling, alternately cursing and laughing at what may come, until I can return to the blissful nothingness that is dwelling in my cave.

Gimme

2010-01-05T22:45:00.004-06:00

Oops

2009-12-10T18:40:00.008-06:00

There is a direct correlation between how muddled with bullshit my brain is and how much I bleed. I'm too stressed to really concentrate on anything, always worrying about what's next instead of what I'm doing at the moment, not actually looking when I'm reaching for something, for example. And as you can see, this is the wrong way to go about things in general, more so when sharp objects are involved.

Luckily these are not serious injuries, just the bloodiest of the eight this week, noteworthy mainly as visual reminders to myself to calm the fuck down. Take it easy. Quit thinking. Drink a few beers and watch some football.

I'm going to take it easy, quit thinking, drink a few beers, and watch some football.

Ice Phallus

2009-12-06T10:33:00.000-06:00

That's Crafty

2009-12-04T21:54:00.007-06:00

Today consisted of a lot of this:
And a lot of this:

The highlight of the day has to be the fabrication of quite possibly the world's cheapest, ugliest, piece of homemade shit router table:

All crap, I mean scrap wood and it took no time to throw together (it might have taken less time had I not been giggling throughout the process, a result of the coffee and crude "design"). I don't think the image does it the injustice it deserves. But it works perfectly. At $0, or a few hundred less than I would have paid if I had a few hundred to blow on a router table, this qualifies as a bargain. Chalk one up for American make-do.

The Ol' One Day at a Time Routine

2009-12-04T20:30:00.004-06:00

I've been semi-laid off from work most of the week. Some hours are available at work, but not enough, so I've been doing side work and working at home on a project for a friend. It's a curse and a blessing: I enjoy making my own schedule, easing into the day, having breakfast,...sometimes I ease into it a bit much... but that's the beauty of it, isn't it?

Still, it's not all roses. I know where my next dollar is coming from, but it's the dollar after that, and the dollar after that I have to worry about. More than ever, I view days and hours as part of an equation, constantly factoring dollars and time, and that is an annoying way to live.

I realized long ago that I gain little satisfaction from being anyone's employee; part of the reason I've stayed at my current job so long is the fact that I can't think of any job I really want, so I might as well stay at the one I have. Now? Making it up as I go...

At least I do the kind of work that I do. With the right contacts, skills, and tools there are ways of surviving. What do laid-off steel workers or downsized office staff do? Some of them do what I do I guess, some wait tables, but there are only so many tables to build, rooms to paint, and meals to serve. Never mind the reduction in rate that all the competition for work creates...

I read that only ten or eleven thousand jobs were lost last month, and this is apparently an encouraging sign. So we've got that going for us.

American Music

2009-12-03T11:30:00.000-06:00

Been listening to this album a lot lately. Good energy, good lyrics, unique sound, a little depth provided by keyboards, which at times make me think of Bruce Springsteen, if only he had grown up listening to punk, as it seems Craig Finn has.

When asked for a description from a friend, I could only muster the vague yet accurate, "American music." I don't label it, I listen to it.

New Old Bike

2009-12-02T12:47:00.003-06:00

Finally got what I needed and got this done. Still need a saddle but otherwise finished. For now.

It may make its maiden voyage tonight, inclement weather and a.m. plans permitting, of course.

Enough Already

2009-12-02T12:41:00.003-06:00

Why do I get so many phone books? New set on the porch yesterday. I recycled four or five of them a couple weeks ago. Looks like I missed a few.

If anyone needs a phone number, let me know.

Lazy Update

2009-11-02T19:05:00.003-06:00

Reunion events were actually fun last week, saw many old faces, had many drinks, was recruited to run off a pervy guest of a former classmate who was sticking his hands up girls' skirts, was questioned after being asked to hold up a drunken married former classmate, kept a running gag going with my friend's wife with the photographer, who I used to work with and who mistook us for a married couple and kept taking our picture, and got locked into the bar when it was over by the manager, who I also used to work with somewhere else, so I could drink some more, tell questionable jokes, and fail at flirting with one of the waitresses. Twenty years of progress.

Threw the back out last week, missed some work, went to the chiropractor 3 times, and feeling closer to normal in that respect.

Low key Halloween, but got to take the daughter out for the first time. She had fun, but faded fast, not sure if she was getting scared or tired. I ate more candy this weekend than I've eaten in the last six months and I feel a little bloated.

Reunionizing

2009-10-21T22:54:00.003-05:00

My 20 year High School Reunion is this weekend and I have managed to remain uncommitted, until today, when different friends began calling and insisting that I take part. I find this funny because a: they know I don't give a shit, b: the friends that called me are the friends from high school that I remain in contact with and can see each other just about anytime we want, and c: I don't give a shit.

At any rate, despite my aloofness, or as a result of the fact that I don't have anything better to do socially, I have tentatively agreed to attend the Friday night festivities that may or may not include either a football game and or spending time in a bar in Chesterfield named after a bar in Columbia, MO. And for those who know me, a tentative commitment is as good as it gets, because who knows, I might cut off my finger at work, rendering handshakes impossibly uncomfortable, or scream "Goddammnit!" so loud at the sound of my morning alarm system that my vocal chords will be unable to make the inevitable chit-chat.

The Friday night festivities are free as far as I know, whereas the official Saturday night reunion takes place in a Clayton restaurant to the tune of around $100. I told some friends if they wanted to reunite I'd be in the bar across the street.

I suppose the assumption is that a person who graduated from high school twenty years prior has an extra hundy laying around to blow on hanging out with a crowd of fellow alums, but I don't. I'm pretty sure if I was more well off financially I still would not attend the actual reunion. Anyone I want to see or talk to from high school I can reach via telephone or facebook. I don't have any old scores to settle, any old flames to flirt with, not from my class anyway. How boring.

I'll go hang out with some friends, maybe it will be fun.

Awesome Punk Show

2009-09-29T23:02:00.002-05:00

A friend was taking his kids and one of their friends to see Blink 182 at the Verizon Ampitheater and had an extra ticket and asked if I wanted to go. I sensed that he didn't want to go it alone so I bit the bullet and agreed to join in on the punk rockness of it all.

And it was so punk! I could tell by all the video screens and pyrotechnics and lights. And like any real punk show at a large corporate sponsored outdoor venue with lawn seating there were a lot of rules, like "No Blankets." I guess there were concerns about the band whipping the crowd into a frenzy of cozy napping.

If there were any doubts, the band provided assurance, more than once informing the crowd that they were going to play a punk rock song. And they burped and used a lot of curse words.

The kids had a long day of elementary school ahead of them and decided we should leave before the show was over. We casually strolled to the exit, collected our free samples of body spray being handed out by an octet of bleach blonde promotional models, got in the X5, kicked on the heated seats and drove our punk asses home.

American Dream Reality

2009-09-28T20:16:00.004-05:00

I figure for every "dollar" I earn I get to bring home roughly half of it (50.51% per YTD figures). And when the 100% is somewhat fair but nothing special, that 50.51% is proving to be impossible to live on. Or as I often say, "Less than ideal, but doable." Less and less doable. Hey it could be worse. But it sucks. Chasing dollars takes time, and there's only so many hours in a day, and only so many dollars to be made in an honest fashion. After time the dollars I earn are less than the dollars I owe, which is really sad since I spend most of my non-working time sitting in my "cave", not spending dollars. I have developed an understanding of why people commit crimes.

Naturally I try to think of things I could sell for a few bucks. I've taken a mental inventory of things I could sell: guitars, bikes, and tools are the only items I own that are worth a shit. But I realize those are the only possessions I care about, the things I would take with me right after I douse my home in gasoline and set it ablaze. And my dog of course, she's worth something. When it comes down to it, I really don't have shit. Or all I have is shit. This is the only thing I can think of that might fetch a price:

I "stole" this from a party 20 years ago and recently realized I still have it. Fucking Smokey and the Bandit, right?! Loaded up and truckin'. Nah, fuck that, I'm not selling that either.

I'm really not sure how I've made it this long. A friend suggested it was sheer will, and that may be partially true. But why should a man that works overtime plus have to scrape by just to maintain a shit quality of life in debt? Perhaps I should quit working, quit paying bills? Then I could get some government handouts? Seems to work for some people. I'm fucking sick of fighting it.

Guess I Still Got It?

2009-09-15T21:22:00.002-05:00

Got off work today and after running a few errands acquiring sundry items, daily whatnots, I thought I'd run down to the local Goodwill and look for some more cheap clothes that might not fit all that well. Within about four minutes, I found three pairs of pants and went to stand in a 15 minute line to pay for them. I found myself facing an infant staring at me blankly and naturally started trying to make her smile, making faces, smiling, to no avail. The kid was standing pat. Tough crowd. During my attempts a fellow walked into the store and passed me as I stepped back to allow him room to pass and he smiled in acknowledgment. After what felt like another 45 minutes I was able to pay for my new leg clothes, put my change in my wallet, and leave the store in the customary, semi-controlled anxiety attacked huff that is customary when my only goal is to be at home.

I pulled out of my parking spot and started to leave the lot when I saw the smiling fellow run out of the store, holding something up in his hand. I got closer and he leaned in my window, and the object in his hand is my wallet. All I can muster is "How the fuck did that happen?" He hands it over and tells me in Spanish enhanced English that he loves me "I lovded jou". "What?" While he is winking and leaning in my window and smacking kisses at me I take my foot off the brake and can only muster "Thanks for the wallet, have a good night!" leaving this poor latino fellow "heartbroken" as I laugh and drive off, wishing I had taken Spanish in high school so I knew how to say 'What the fuck just happened?'

So I got three pairs of pantalones for $8.50. And that fucking baby never cracked a smile.

Something Must Be In the Air

2009-08-25T19:20:00.002-05:00

A couple of other bloggers I read, not implying that I'm a "blogger", or that this meandering crap I write occasionally constitutes a "blog", have posted recently on the subject of happiness, which is uncanny since I have recently been feeling much happier lately. I've been more productive, complain less, feel less overwhelmed than excited by possibilities...fuckin' weird, I know. I'm still broke, still alone, still have fingers that feel broken, a knee that doesn't want to support my weight, a shoulder that can't decide whether it wants to throb with pain or tingle with numbness, still have more work to do than I can find the time to do...stuff to complain about, but what's the point? Doesn't make sense, but I'm glad.

It might be premature to resign as Mayor of Mopetown, but I may have something figured out here. Maybe I've been dealing with shit for which a "normal" person may have sought drugs or therapy for some time now and it's just run its course? Maybe I'm just manic? We shall see.

If this keeps up, I might have to change the name of this "blog." Something like, "Notes From Out and About," or "Thoughts of a Content Dipshit."

"Get off My Lawn" Dept.

2009-08-08T13:47:00.003-05:00

Is this stupid, lazy, or inconsiderate, or am I just a cranky old man? There's always something going on at the park across the street and parking gets limited for those too lazy to walk an extra hundred feet, i guess. In this case there were a few dozen other parking options for this individual, but they partially blocked my driveway anyway. I can get in and out and it probably wouldn't register on my annoyance scale if it didn't happen all the time, but it does.

This is mild compared to the time I came home one Saturday to find someone parked in my driveway. There was nowhere else to park on the entire street so I parallel parked in front of my driveway and went inside to mull over my options. Smash their windows? Flat their tires? Have them ticketed and towed? Let it slide and wait for them to politely knock on my door and apologize for their trespass? No matter. After a few minutes I went back outside to see if they would show up and they had already driven across my lawn and exited through a neighbor's driveway.

Click Clack

2009-08-04T22:11:00.003-05:00

Remember typewriters? There's one at the top of the page, there. I still love them. The noise, the effort, the tangible page. I rarely use one, but when I do I get a little giddy. I've got about seven of the things just sitting around, collecting dust, waiting for paper and words. Purpose-built machines, no distractions.

I have a habit of bringing them home, like people I know who can't let a stray dog be. Some I've had since my teens, others turn up unwanted in vacant properties, much to my strange delight. My favorites, the one pictured in the heading of this "blog" and one very similar to it were purchased from an enterprising pre-teen who had posted an ad in the bargain box of the Post-Dispatch about ten years ago. I called and arranged to meet him at a local Italian market and we made our exchange. I think I gave him thirty bucks for both of them. I remember having the sensation that each of us thought we had gotten one over on the other: "Kid didn't know what he had," I thought; "Sweet! 30 bucks! Who is this guy?", the look on the kid's face said, as if he was amazed someone wanted some old typewriters, and that I had actually showed up to give him money for them.

Recently, I showed one to my daughter. It might as well have been a magic candy machine, because she was mesmerized. We played with it for a couple hours, typing, inserting paper, rolling it through, making it "ding" and returning the carriage, she couldn't get enough of it. It was fun to watch her excitement, to see her wonder about an old utilitarian machine. More fun than wading through people at the zoo, in my opinion.

Also encouraging is the fact that Jones Typewriter still exists in Maplewood, nestled between all the new restaurants and revolving door storefronts on Manchester. I drive by it all the time and wonder how the hell they stay in business. They've been there for longer than I've known what Maplewood was. I have a soft spot for typewriters, but who actually still uses them? I want to take the Underwoods there for service before this shop closes, partly to give them business, but also out of a fear that if they close, no one will be left that knows what to do with them.

Seemed Like a Good Idea

2009-08-04T21:37:00.005-05:00

According to this report yet another drunken lawnmower driver has been plucked from the streets. Sad and funny. Not as funny as this guy I commented on a few months back, though, as at least his vehicle showed some redneck ingenuity, some real American pluck, some know-how. And such.

But $10,000 for bail? Seriously? Add that to the $6 he paid for the beer and you've got what has to be one of the world's most expensive un-drank 12-packs.

Maybe we need more lawnmower lanes...

Why Not?

2009-07-23T20:10:00.002-05:00

A friend of mine has asked me to build this table for her. I explained that I already have enough projects to put off, so sure, I'll give it a shot. Just don't expect it anytime soon, as I'll have to save up to buy enough sandpaper.

Rough Week Over

2009-07-17T17:25:00.002-05:00

Situations at work this week dictated that I got stuck doing yard maintenance three of the five days. Mostly whacking weeds and trimming bushes, cleaning shit up. Over and over and over again. This is not work I particularly enjoy, and after a few properties I tend to get a little...agitated. But I didn't complain, as I know things could be worse. Like a stick in the eye. Whether my boss felt bad for making me do it, or was trying to motivate us to get everything done, being the nice guy he is, he came down and took us to lunch, both yesterday and today. Not a huge deal, but a nice gesture that is appreciated. So, props to the boss...

Now, bring on the weekend, I'm fucking tired.

"Break Me a Fucking Give"

2009-07-16T21:32:00.002-05:00

When someone asks my favorite author or what I like to read I tend to throw out the name of the last book I read as sort of a lazy response to someone who I don't think is really at all interested anyway, like I might respond to someone asking "How are you?" and replying, "Fine," no matter how many things about which I could bitch and moan. In recent years, I've taken this self-defense to a higher level in the midst of impersonal small-talk by omitting any reference to writing, reading, or literature of any sort. It's much easier this way, in that I neither have to explain to a stranger why I'm not successful or good at something I like to do, nor listen to said stranger talk about Stephen King or some other best-seller for thirty minutes (Or is it Steven?).

Now I'm pretty sure If anyone were to ask, I would say Anthony Lane is my favorite writer, based solely on his film reviews for The New Yorker. Whether I agree with his opinion of a movie or not, I always enjoy the reviews for their wit, insight and structure. Here's a good example...

The best part is you don't even have to subscribe to read them, and no, I'm not shilling for the magazine.

That's All

2009-07-16T19:37:00.001-05:00

Motherfucking goddamn shit. Goddamn motherfucking shit. Shit, fucking goddamnit, motherfucker.

Consumerables Wish List, et al

2009-07-09T21:14:00.006-05:00

Sometimes when I'm not at work or sleeping, or complaining about work, or wishing I was asleep, I find time to want things. This is not entirely healthy, as most things I want are not obtainable and of questionable need in the first place, and unrealistic expectations inevitably lead to disappointment. I call this consumerism.

So anyway I want one of these:

Super smooth, functional art. I haven't actually used it yet, but I go slobber over it at the Home Depot and mess with the adjustments, like finish carpentry porn; "Oooh, feel those crisp detents!" If you are in the market for a miter saw, I recommend you go buy this one, and then give it to me.

I'm also sick of driving an old truck. Sure it's handy for hauling tools and sheet goods and whatever piece of whatever whoever needs you to move for them, but it would be nice to have something smaller, more fun to drive. After very limited research, I think I want one of these here Rabbits, too:

Haven't driven it yet. I don't see many on the road, almost never, and that may be part of the appeal for me. I kind of like that it has 5 cylinders. I like the way it looks. I think the saw would fit in the back. Read a few knocks on the MPG, but I bet it's better than 12...

There's plenty of other shit: bike parts, shoes, new windows, sundry household goods. I don't even have an iPod...

They say it's a good idea to make lists and set goals for yourself, to put things down on paper, as if this creates a greater commitment to achieve. In my case, that sounds like an effective tool I could use to remind myself of what a failure I am, a list of things I want and still don't have. Like another 'e' for 'judgment.'

As it is, I have fallen under the spell of material want.

So Far So Good

2009-07-03T19:08:00.000-05:00

A couple days ago I made the decision to enjoy myself this weekend. Appropriately enough, I have dubbed this weekend "The Weekend of Enjoying Myself." For having no real plan, it's working out well so far.

Last night I rode down to the Loop and ran into some friends at Blueberry Hill, had some drinks and some laughs. And then a couple more drinks. All had fun, not a cross word was spoken. And such. I made it home without incident, although I apparently stopped at a gas station for some combos and a granola bar, something I wouldn't have remembered had the wrappers not been on my coffee table this morning.

I had planned on skating this morning but woke up late and hungover. Normally, a hangover would lead to a day of watching TV while laying on the couch. During "The Weekend of Enjoying Myself" I could not succumb to such slothfulness. So Jerald and I drove out to St. Charles and skated. This was the first time I have skated any bowl/vert/structure in about eight years or so. I did about as well as I thought I would, maybe a little worse. It was a little difficult finding a line with any kind of flow, found myself riding really low on the wall, and in general just didn't feel that comfortable on my board. I guess that's just how it is after not riding for so long, or maybe it's the 38 year old joints. At any rate, we had fun and were glad we got out there.

We decided not to overdo it and started heading back to the city.
Talk led to ramps, which led to Rampriders, which led to us going there. The park wouldn't be open til 5pm and it was only around 4pm, so we decided to wait it out at Johnny's, in Soulard. If you're not familiar with Johnny's, it's kind of like a sports bar/strip club. Food, drinks, really loud jukebox music, and a lot of barely covered enhanced breasts and makeup. Cheesy fun. After a drink, a bite, a few giggles, and an eyeful, we headed back to Rampriders.

We hadn't been to this location before, and went in to check it out. Jerald wasn't too impressed, which I didn't understand: "We used to dream of shit like this! What's the problem?" I was excited to skate the little ditch ramp. Basically, I had to twist his arm to get him to skate. He wasn't feeling it, but I think he complied in the name of "The Weekend of Enjoying Myself." For not having skated in so long, the little ramp was more my speed. I still didn't feel that confident, but on the little ramp I could do most of the little lip tricks I could do in my youth, which are few, albeit without a shred of grace. I have a run I do in my mind, some things I can do, others I can't. In my mind, I'm flawless. In reality, it's hard to string more than two of them together. A kid showed up and did every trick I want to do, basically doing the line I have in my mind, and I told him as much. "What's that?" he said. "It sucks getting old," I say. He smiled, then dropped in and did a ramp width backside Smith grind, a big Disaster, etc. Jerald had had enough at this point and was ready to go. I think I'd still be there if I didn't have to leave with him. Now I want to build 2' high transitions around the walls in my living room.

So last night was good, today has been good. There are two full days left in "The Weekend of Enjoying Myself." What's next?

This is What I'm Getting at, But it's Funny

2009-06-26T23:56:00.001-05:00

Stand Up and Poop Like a Man

2009-06-26T23:43:00.000-05:00

Just think of the savings on toilet paper...

Famous Dead People

2009-06-26T22:12:00.003-05:00

It's the day after the death of a has-been song and dance man/facial surgery afficionado, and despite my ability to avoid what I assume is a full on assault/tribute by popular media outlets, I am unable to avoid and a little perplexed by those who really seem to care. "It's so sad," they'll say. No, it's not, I'll say. People die all the time, I'll say. A quick scan of the local paper tells of a man found dead rolled up in a "mat". Apparently he was a carjack victim of two alleged 17 year old suspects, didn't read the whole article. At any rate, he's dead. His passing hasn't drummed up the same level of interest. Apparently his biggest flaws were a: driving his truck; and b: not releasing a large selling album during the formative years when people my age started thinking about getting into each other's clothes.

I remember the glory days of Michael Jackson well. Did I ever like him? I don't think so. People have a bent sense of the importance of public figures that were forced down their throats. A life passed, and that is reason to grieve for those who actually knew or loved or cared for him, not a convenient rallying point for nostalgiac dipshits. Farrah Fawcett died yesterday, too, and had it not coincided with the death of MJ, perhaps more people would be talking about 'Charlie's Angels' and her iconic posters from the '70's. Maybe people are doing so, but I'm not hearing it.
And Ed McMahon the day before...Whose death is more important?

I don't intend to belittle a man's life or death, but all this posthumous gushing reminds me of all the empty-hearted, heavy-handed flag waving we witnessed post 9/11/01.

Maybe Lee Greenwood will salve the nation with a drippy, pseudo-country version of "Beat It."

"Finger Painting"

2009-05-31T19:33:00.001-05:00

Artist draws New Yorker Cover on iphone

Fun With Broken English: Put The Mouse Bell in Action

2009-05-12T21:48:00.006-05:00

For whatever reason, I've always gotten a laugh from broken English. I speak it at work all day, in various mangled accents and amuse the shit out of myself, especially if I'm performing a tedious chore, as it helps pass the time until lunch or quitting time. Of course, I have no intention of ridiculing non-native English speakers: Most foreigners who speak English know more about the language than the average American ( I have no data to substantiate this claim, but "most" sounds accurate). I "studied" French from grades 7-12 and probably couldn't maintain a conversation with a French two year old. English just doesn't translate very well.

Take for example, a simple nursery rhyme:

Hickory Dickory Dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down!
Hickory Dickory Dock.

There are many language translators available online. Here's what happens when you translate this to Chinese, and then back to English:

The mountain walnut, dickory, the wharf, the mouse ran the clock.
The clock collides one, the mouse ran down!
Mountain walnut, dickory, wharf

Turn that into Dutch, then back to English:

The dickory mount okay note, the yard, the mouse put the bell in functioning.
The bell comes one in collision, decreased the mouse!
The dickory okkernoot of the mount, yard

Japanese?:

The note and the yard of okay of the dickory mount put the mouse bell in action.
The bell comes one mouse the collision which decreases!
Dickory okkernoot of mount and yard

Can't really blame 'em...What the hell is a "dickory" anyway?

It's all in Duh Coinkidinks..

2009-05-11T18:37:00.013-05:00

Missed the FBC Prom Ride on Saturday which sucks since it's the only thing I've planned on doing in some time. It sucks a little more since it was entirely my fault. I was kinda rushing to get ready after working and running some errands and had just enough time to stuff my bag with essentials (a six pack) and put on some formal wear (an moth-eaten suit jacket from the basement). Got on my bike and the back tire felt a little spongy so i pumped it up a little and got on my way. About 10 seconds later the back tire was flat (Are you fucking kidding me?)so I went inside to patch it and the valve stem had partially separated from the tube. A little too rough with the pump, being in a hurry. I had a spare tube somewhere. Took me about 15 minutes to find it, and it had already been patched, and that patch was loose. Took off the old patch, repatched it, put the wheel back on and it was ten till 8, too late to meet up with the ride.

So my plans fell through due to my own carelessness. What are you gonna do?

I ended up on facebook because my brother called and asked me to look at something, and then two people I haven't really talked to in years im me within minutes of each other. The first mocked my lack of enthusiasm and I explained the above and she says something like, "Oh, I think my boyfriend is doing that"(What are the odds of that?)I said call him and find out where they are. He didn't answer, I guess because he was busy riding a bike. Oh well. The second old friend used to call me "Moonlight", because when she saw me and said "What's up sunshine?" i would simply reply, "I'm moonlight." Hmmm...strange coincidences at work here. So the night wasn't a total loss. After catching up with a couple old friend I went on my own private, albeit brief, full moon ride around the neighborhood. I had doubts about the patched tube but it's still holding.

But the coincidence of "talking" to these two people, as well as another person part of the same group from years ago in the same day, the full moon, etc. got me to thinking. That and the beer. But really, what strange things are at work here? I've decided to consult some experts.

I googled my horoscope for that day.

One guy nailed it: I'm skeptical.

Another one mentioned a Scorpio playing a part, and about planning too much. Well, one of the old friends is a Scorpio, and I did plan on doing something only to have it fall through...

Another gave me my horoscope for the whole month, from somewhere called keen.com:

Sagittarius Horoscope for May 2009

You seem to be working hard for the money on May 5th and May 11th.(True, both demo and hump heavy shit days) I feel that you will push the ultimate limits to stretch your own power and will.(OK, maybe everyday) i know you will be tired and stressed but you can do it so hang in there.(Hey thanks!)....

Mercury will be retrograding on May 7th from your partnership so an old love may come back into the picture.(One of the old acquaintances!) You may have to resolve some old issues from your past. Old issues may have to resolved again.(not again!) Saturn will finally go direct on May 17th from your 10th house of career.(huh?) You may soon begin to feel relief from all the hard work you had to take on.(Promise?)....

The full moon on May 9th will fall in your 12th house of secrets and solitude(I was alone)making the next couple weeks a time for you to rest and relax. You may feel so tired that all you will want to do is catch up on sleep.(yes) It will also be a time when you will get rid of any bad habits including drinking, smoking or any other bad habits.(maybe)You may seek therapy or other forms of counseling. (doubtful)Uranus will support this full moon from your 4th house of home so you may decide to take a trip to rest and relax at your parents house(and work). It will be a wonderful time for you to just take a vacation to a place where you can just get away from it all.(Sounds good)...Travel will be highlighted on May 9(bike ride?), 18, 19, 26 and 27th. These dates will be wonderful for you to take a short trip. I I also feel that its a great time to buy a new computer, telephone or vehicle(I'll take one of each!). Be careful as Mercury will still be retrograding and you may have problems with a vehicle that is purchased during a Mercury retrograde(ok, I'll just get the new computer and phone)....

Joking aside, these psychics really nailed it. I mean, if you combined them all together and took out the irrelevant parts. Reminds me of the old adage, "If you throw enough shit on the wall, some of it's going to stick."

Encouraging Signs

2009-05-05T18:21:00.003-05:00

When I picked up my daughter the other day I had been listening to the Descendents. After we got going I listened to another song or two and then switched it off, thinking she might want to listen to something else. She immediately protested, saying "No daddy! I want to hear the other one!" Really? Cool with me.

Later on she was riding her little pink big wheel/tricycle type bike. She would head downhill on the sidewalk until it got a little too fast for her liking and then put her feet down to stop. Then one time she didn't put her feet down and got a little speed. I was running behind her but couldn't quite catch up, she wobbled like Pee Wee Herman riding away from that biker bar and fell forward on her belly. She didn't start crying until she looked at me and saw what must have been a look of horror. I pick her up and make sure she's OK, kiss the booboos (scraped the hands a little, no blood). I ask her "Well, do you want to ride a little more or go inside?" "I want to ride a little more, daddy. But I don't want to go fast anymore today." She got back on the bike, and I was grinning ear to ear.

Adrift In Micromanagementless...ness

2009-04-28T23:17:00.002-05:00

Today was day two of working without the boss this week, as he has gone on vacation. No one is complaining about his absence thus far. In general he's a good guy and has bent over backwards to help many people in many ways, but managing his employees is not his strong suit.

It has been business as usual, except for the lack of profanity laced and condescending a.m. debriefings, and the general micromanagement that occurs on a daily basis.

Example of a recent morning:

Boss: OK, you guys are going to go back and finish those window wells, which I would expect to take two hours, am I right?

Me: Uh, no, it's going to take most of the day, we have to pick up the concrete, finish the forms, break out a little more of the old stuff and then mix...

Boss: What do you mean, I thought you finished that shit yesterday.

Me: No, I said one was ready to pour and that we had a little more to go on the second one.

Boss: Fuck. Allright, it's about 7:30 now, you've got till 10:30. Let's get it fucking done because I have you scheduled to be on another job.

Me: We have to pick up 30 bags of concrete, drive to the job, finish the prep, mix and pour 30 bags by hand and be done by 10:30?

Boss: Yes. Get it fucking done.

This is very motivating. Being accustomed to this environment, I can laugh about it. The only reason I can question his judgment and "suggest" his estimate may be a little off is because I've been around so long and know him quite well. If anyone else had spoken up in such a situation they may have been told to "get their head out of their ass" or "I don't pay you to think, do what I fucking tell you to do." At any rate, the path of least resistance dictates saying "OK" and then doing what you have to do to get whatever it is you're doing done right. On this day, my coworker and I finished a little before 2pm, like we thought we would, and the world did not explode as a result. Even with encouragement via Nextel ("How much fucking longer is this going to take?") we could not figure out how to bend time.

This week, his mild mannered female office assistant simply tells us where we are going based on a schedule the boss has left for her to follow. We mock confusion at her instructions, and tell her we don't know what to do unless she curses and belittles us. She mocks cursing and belittling us and then we laugh and go to work, free of the stress and resentment that make us wish the day would end before it's even started.

Call me the workin' man

2009-04-25T14:00:00.003-05:00

Another weekend, more work. Seems like it never ends. Been doing a lot of work at my parents' house. Daughter's mom is asking when I can tile two floors and make 14 cabinet doors for her kitchen. I think she's under the impression that I have the time and money to perform this work pro bono, as if I owe her more than the child support I pay. I can't afford to buy half the wood needed for the task and my time could be better spent doing work that will pay a bill or two, or gasp, enjoying myself.

Meanwhile my own house sits neglected. A lot of people I work for say something like, "Wow, I bet you have a really nice house, since you know how to do all this stuff.." Uhh, not really. I've done a lot to it, but mostly on the cheap, when I have energy, it's not raining/freezing, the stars are properly aligned, etc. If I had some sort of budget and didn't do the shit all day I might get a little more done. If I was a chef for instance, I doubt I would come home after a shift and plan, shop for, and prepare a gourmet meal for myself every day. Or maybe a broke line cook. Weak analogy? Who cares.

My house is good enough for me and my dog, and the work helps me not be homeless, etc. Not complaining. Point is, all work and no play makes Greg a dull boy. I need to get current projects done so I can play more, get out of the house more, especially in this nice weather, before it gives way to stifling, summer, swamp air.

Routine

2009-04-11T11:45:00.002-05:00

Work. Sleep. Pay bills. Repeat.

The routine can be a drag but it could be much worse. I'm healthy, employed, and somehow still have a roof over my head. Many, many people cannot say the same.

I remember hearing years ago someone famous and successful describing what kept him motivated and humble, saying that his father had instilled in him the belief that "you're only one step away from the gutter" or something similar. One mistake, accident, bad decision away from losing it. This is sort of how I feel, especially at work, where there are a million ways to get hurt, or fuck something up. Last week, a co-worker cut off the end of his index finger in a home shop accident, sliced off at an angle with the bone exposed. A momentary lapse in concentration, a fraction of a second in the knives of a jointer. Amazingly, he only missed one day of work and has been getting by with it wrapped up. I had a similar accident a few years ago, splayed my thumb open in a spinning blade, severed tendons etc. I went to work the next day not because I wanted to, because one missed day of work means no/less overtime, a smaller check, unpaid bills, choosing between groceries or heat. Working through pain is a daily necessity.

So the routine keeps me out of trouble, puts me in bed early enough to go to work and be awake enough to not cut my fingers off, to show up on time, to be sharp and productive. What's more important right now, to go out and have fun or to be able to pay my bills and take care of my daughter? Right.

Still, it's exactly the kind of life I never wanted to have, one centered around a job. Living to work or working to live? At this point, just getting by is an accomplishment.

Busted on a Barstool

2009-04-04T09:10:00.002-05:00

So this guy got wasted and crashed his motorized barstool and got arrested for operating under the influence. They don't say whether he hit a car, or a tree, or accidentally gave someone a lawn job with his homemade contraption. I would agree that it's just not a good idea for anyone to be operating any vehicle on any road after getting shitfaced, but what serious threat was this guy posing to anyone but himself?

I would rather laud the guy for his creativity. If I had been the officer on the scene I'd have gotten a kick out of it: "How many horsepower you running? What's that, a Briggs and Stratton? Nice rollerblade wheels on that wheelie bar..." Maybe take him and his jalopy home with a warning...I'm betting he wasn't too far from his house. I guess that's why I'm not a cop.

Now this beerfan has to park his stool and find another way to the bar. Or drink at home. Or quit drinking. Don't know, don't know him.

Legal or not, wrong or right, there are simply too many rules and too many people getting paid to tell other human beings what they can or cannot do. If you're not paying tax for this, getting a permit for that, living inside the parameters set forth for you to follow, rest assured there is some government entity that will punish you for it.

Funny Book

2009-04-02T22:27:00.004-05:00

I got this book a couple years ago and pick it up from time to time for a laugh. It's a "best of" compilation of personal ads, or "lonely hearts" as the Brits say, from the London Review of Books. These ads are a far cry from what you might read on craigslist. No typical "Looking for Mr/Ms. Right, like walks on the beach, must be..." blah blah. Here's a few random examples:

Tell me your kidney-stone experiences-I'll set them to music and we'll make us a West End fortune! Unemployable choreographer and amateur harpist (M,62) seeks recovering alcoholic with feeble mind. Own tap shoes an advantage

The only item you'll find in my fridge is soup. Forty litres of the stuff. Beat that. M, 46

I've experienced some of the finest mace sprays produced in the Western world, but nothing is as painful as placing an ad in here and getting no responses. That's where you come in: blonde, pole-dancing acrobatic F to 21 who isn't put off by two-way mirrors. Man, 82.

Reading through the book I get the sense that most of the ads are written by a bunch of old professors and literary types just trying to out-wit each other, but it's still funny, and I'd be willing to bet these ads are more successful than the typical American ones.

Oh yeah

2009-03-23T17:55:00.004-05:00

Not much happening, not much blogging.

Did have a nice weekend with the daughter. I thought we might go to the City Museum, or go see Lucy at the Science Center because she loves dinosaurs, but she just wanted to swing at the park, play with my dog, and scribble on the sidewalk with chalk, which was all fine with me. We went through three pieces of the chalk in a little over an hour, because her favorite thing is to grind it all down on the concrete and rub her hands all over it.

I tried drawing a duck. She of course called it a dinosaur.

This was at my parents', where I grew up. During the chalkfest, I heard a loud bang, like a storm door, and some muttering. I looked around and saw the father of a childhood friend walking across his front lawn stark naked, taking little baby steps, head hanging down like he could barely hold it up. He walked to the mailbox and back to his front door like this, muttering something under his breath the whole time. A neighbor's dog was barking during all of this, and when he got to his door, he stopped, looked up, and said, "YOU AIN'T NUTHIN..BUT A ....HOUNDOG!!" Then he walked inside and slammed his door. I looked at Harper and she was still busy with the chalk, and didn't see a thing.

Randomness

2009-03-05T20:37:00.004-06:00

I was looking for something else and came across this image and it made me giggle:

2009-03-05T18:48:00.002-06:00

Being a carpenter's not so bad I've decided. For all the bs that goes with my job in particular (being rushed, cursed at, relatively underpaid, not very good benefits, typically shitty hours), right now I can't think of anything else I'd rather do (Believe me, I've been trying to think of something else I can do). There are not a lot of jobs that I can think of where I would have the freedom I do now. Sure I am told what to do, and of course there are rules to follow, but often I am told to accomplish an end result, which leaves me with creating a solution, which I enjoy. Most of the rules are common sense: Show up on time, don't leave a mess, be polite to clients. Duh. Some of the guys have trouble with rules like these believe it or not, but that's another story.

You aren't going to offend anyone if you don't shower or shave. There's very little gossip or politics involved since there is no real hierarchy of position or title to strive for. There's no dry cleaning. I only have one boss. There are no mickey mouse meetings about ethics or political correctness. Aside from dirty hands and tired feet, there's not much to take home with you. And of course there's the satisfaction of making something nice, or making someone's home look better, or helping someone out by doing what they either don't know how or don't have time to do themselves.

You work with and meet all sorts of characters. Some you wish you hadn't, but many at least offer something to make you laugh or remember. Today I was working outside, trimming out some dormers and other windows. I'm going up and down ladders, some other guys were there grading the driveway with a bobcat. A little later, a big green dump truck pulls up and dumps a load of dirt. Noise everywhere. The driver gets out, he's about 275 pounds in cut off shorts and boots and a mohawk, takes a leak next to his truck while he's jawing to the bobcat operator. A while later, a concrete guy that looks and sounds not entirely unlike Dale from King of the Hill pulls up. He gets out of his truck, cigarette in mouth, mesh hat, blue sweatpants, and yells up to me on the roof "Lookin' good!" then goes to look at whatever he's bidding. A lady walking down the street interrupts me to ask me for money. It's a beautiful day outside. Me and the guy I'm working with are talking in our loudest, faux redneck accents and laughing our asses off. It's a different world. I don't think I can get the same experience from a cubicle.

New reason to stay home

2009-03-01T20:10:00.003-06:00

Something completely out of the ordinary happened Saturday. I was browsing craigslist and I actually found something I wanted. But it gets stranger: Not only did the guy call me back, we arranged to meet, make a transaction, and when I took my prize home, it actually worked!

I'm about as skeptical as it gets, at least that's what people tell me. I call it realism. Anyway, I was able to put my "skepticism" aside in order to meet a complete stranger in a random parking lot and hand over some cash in exchange for something that may or may not have been in the condition advertised. I can't say I put it completely aside; On the way there, every negative outcome ran through my mind: It's going to be a broken piece of shit, he won't show up, the thought that this stranger might not even have said item, and try to roll me for my cash. Not likely, but these are the thoughts that run through my head. You would think I had arranged to buy a hunk of weapons grade plutonium for chrissake.

What is it?

A digital 8-track recorder, something I've been looking for for a few years and never had the money for, not for a new one anyway. Thanks to the gracious IRS and good timing, I was able to pick this one up at a great price. Sure the technology is a couple years old, but that fits in perfectly around here, where everything is second hand.

Now I can record my half-assed musical compositions, or maybe realize a long term joke/dream of creating a record label consisting of different releases and genres that is really just me, or whoever happens to be here to contribute. Maybe that's only funny to me.

At any rate, I'm happy I got something I've been wanting, I didn't get burned, and have countless hours ahead of me doing something I enjoy instead of what I'm supposed to be doing. To hell with being an adult.

Nice Bike

2009-02-16T17:43:00.003-06:00

I heard someone talking about this Katy Perry. I'd never heard of her, so I looked her up.

I still don't know anything about her, but am pleased to see she's a cycling enthusiast.

p day

2009-02-16T16:47:00.003-06:00

Presidents' Day is a strange day to be off work. Not really a holiday. Not really Lincoln's or Washington's birthday. I think it was created by a league of furniture retailers. But I'll take a three day weekend when I can get it.

Part of the day was spent idly watching TV, which included watching part of a "The Presidents" documentary on the History Channel. I was most interested in the segment on "Old Hickory" Andrew Jackson. What a character...Backwoods badass, war hero (murderer?), a real do it yourselfer, voice of the common man, middle finger in the face of the establishment type. He dissolved the Federal Bank as he saw it existed only to benefit the elite.

He did a lot of bad things as well, like kill people. He created the Indian Removal Act, and even though it did not become law, personally saw that it was enforced. So I'll stop short of calling him a great man or President...but I like to think what it would be like to have someone like that in office now. He might liven things up a bit. Here's one of my favorite quotes attributed to him:

"After eight years as President I have only two regrets: that I have not shot Henry Clay or hanged John C. Calhoun."
I can't see a modern politician getting away with saying something like that. Maybe Cheney.

Daniel Johnston

2009-02-15T19:55:00.002-06:00

Watched this movie last night. Found it funny, sad, interesting, brilliant. Kind of surprised I didn't already know more about this guy. As I watched it, I started realizing I had read his name several times before on the liner notes of albums I have by other artists covering his songs. Well worth watching if you're at all into the art, music, or poetry of a delusional genius.

2009-02-12T21:22:00.002-06:00

I think it's harder to write if I have nothing to complain about. And for some reason right now I don't feel like I have much to complain about. Life has been fun lately, and that makes the moments that aren't so enjoyable at least...bearable.

I think it started last weekend when I got a message from my daughter's mother (babymomma) that I will not discuss in detail publicly, but let's just say it was the most insane thing I've heard come from another human being's mouth and as a result, I was simultaneously offended, amused, sickened, and inspired. And that's a lot of things. At any rate, it's kind of liberating knowing you never have to act like you give a shit about what a certain person may say or think about you because of something they said or thought about you.

Monday was good. I got paid. I watched MU beat KU, then went on a bike ride with many people under the full moon. It was an awesome experience to cruise all over the city amongst a mass of people on bicycles, riding familiar streets and seeing familiar sights from a different perspective. We rode by places I worked, friends' houses, bars I've been to, a place where I saw a shooting in progress, it all looks different at night on a bike. Almost like I was from a different part of the country taking a tour of St. Louis. I was amazed how few cars were out, how open the city was to explore. I enjoy riding to work and back but it's completely different: more on edge, more combative, more me against the world, muttering obscenities as two thousand pound objects whizz by, wondering if one of them might send me on my way. At 2am, the road was mine, and there was none of this. Just pedaling, and the most profound sense of peace and freedom I've felt in some time.

The next night I had a friend over for some drinks. The conversation inevitably leads to the past, how we used to do this and that. I abruptly announce, "I'm going skating!," get my board and go roll around the neighborhood. It felt good. Even if I did bail really hard at one point when I hung up on a huge gap between asphalt and concrete, it felt good to be out there.

So yeah, life's good when you do things that make you happy. What else is there, being a good billpayer?

Jobs

2009-02-08T11:21:00.002-06:00

I've been working as a carpenter/handyman/remodeler for the past seven years. Sometimes it's enjoyable. Other days I desperately want to quit. At this point, it's my only marketable skill, the only job I've stuck with long enough to gain enough experience to get the same or similar job elsewhere if I wanted. Oops.

I've stuck around long enough to learn everything I really need to know and long enough to reach the ceiling salary wise, at least where I am working, it seems. Meanwhile, I'm getting older and life is getting more and more expensive. Oops.

Long term planning has never been my strong suit. Work here, work there. A job has never been more to me than a place I had to go to make money so I could pay for things I wanted or needed, i.e., job as necessary evil of life, not job as life. With an English degree, I knew I most likely would never earn a living quoting Shakespeare or analyzing the conceits of sixteenth century metaphysical poetry. Oh yeah, I could teach, I guess. But doesn't that involve babysitting roomfuls of apathetic youth?

I've been kicking around the idea of learning web design, might start taking classes soon. It seems like something that would appeal to my loner disposition, and the field doesn't appear to be disappearing anytime soon. Of course, by the time I could enter the field I would be a fortyish year old newbie and most likely be making less money than I do now til I learned the ropes. Or, I could just keep doing what I'm doing and bitch about it. It's a little intimidating to begin learning something I know nothing about, and the thought of being saddled w/student loans is less than desirable. On the other hand, the thought of being five years older and doing the same shit is frightening.

Decisions, decisions...

Two Cents at a Time

2009-02-03T20:30:00.003-06:00

Let's face it. Times are tough. Working 50 plus hours a week isn't paying the bills anymore. That's mostly because of child support, not this economy everyone's so riled up about. I've thought about bartending or waiting tables again, but I wouldn't even be able to get to a night job before 6 or 7pm, even if I didn't stop at home to change and let the dog out. So what many of us broke-ass carpenter types do is side jobs. I'm doing a bathroom for my parents and that will take up most of my weekends for the next month I'm guessing. I'll make some money that will be spoken for before I get it, as per usual.

I don't bother posting to services available on craiglist since there are approximately 343,000 other people on there looking to make a buck. But I do scan the listings for work wanted. Today I think I found the answer to my problems:

part time position working from home (brentwood missouri)

Reply to: gigs-1019228872@craigslist.org ^[?]
Date: 2009-02-03, 12:44PM CST

I need to hire someone part time who needs to earn a little extra cash. I need someone to wash golf balls as I have a retrieval buiness. I need someone who has a lot of time on their hands(retired possibly). You can sit in front of your tv as you inspect and wash each golf ball. I pay 2 cents per golf ball and have about 10,000 to wash.Some of the golf balls will be very dirty and some will be very clean already. I would start by bringing 1000 golf balls to you and then giving you ample time to wash and sort and see if you would be interested in doing additional work.
Please email and leave a phone number for me to call. If you are located in Brentwood or very close to Brentwood that is a plus.

Now, I don't live in Brentwood, but I've washed a golf ball! A thousand balls at two cents a piece, I would make a whole...$20!! If I don't do anything else but wash golf balls at night, really focus my energy on my work and stay focused, I think in one night I could clean at least... four balls. "Yeah, I'm done, can I get my eight cents?" If this posting is a joke, I applaud the poster. If not, I don't know whether to feel sorry for the septagenarian fellow, probably a widower in a straw hat, combing the rough at Forest Park for his dimpled white fool's gold, or to get a real hobby, like watching birds, or porn.

I'm willing to bet that at least this person would respond back, unlike most of the dipshits that say they want something done for minimum wage.

Vs. Myself

2009-01-25T10:50:00.003-06:00

Spent another weekend here in the cave to this point. So far I've managed to have drinks with a guest on Friday night, dick around on the internette, and try to kill my legs on the trainer. I bought a hat. Been drinking lots of green tea and generally wasting time, or as I prefer to call it, relaxing.

There are things I'm supposed to be doing. I should be over at my parents' working on the bathroom I'm remodeling for them. I could be doing my taxes. I could be filling out the fafsa form to see if our government will give me some money for school. Sometimes it's so much more rewarding to do nothing. Sometimes, like Sunday nights, I can't sleep because I'm thinking of all the productive things I could have done but didn't, and there's a whole week of the work/sleep cycle to wake up to.

It's only 11am. Where I come from that's still considered morning. I'm going to get the blood moving with some indoor pedaling then go lay some subfloor and sweat some copper.

Meet the New Boss...

2009-01-20T17:05:00.004-06:00

Today a new President of these, our, United States was sworn into office. It seems like only, well, a thousand years since dubya took the reins and began steering the country into the ditch, paving the way for a desperate nation to elect the candidate who least resembled him.Think about how bad a president has to screw things up for a black, muslim-monikered, mostly unproven Senator to be elected as his successor in a country that, for the most part, is afraid of black and Muslim people...

Now that the transition is complete, much has been made of the historical significance, the Bush/Cheney admin. is out, and the fanfare is (almost) over, can we stop sucking this guy's dick? "Whoa, whoa, whoa..," you say. "Aren't you for Obama?" you might ask. Well, yes, I am. I am optimistic about his presidency, hopeful that he can "right the ship" etc. etc. blah, blah. In a system that offers two choices, I choose Obama, much in the way I would pick a frozen pizza over a shit sandwich. Were we afforded more choices, I might support someone else, I might not. Merely being the better of two options does not in itself merit anything. I prefer to see how he fares before I jump on the bandwagon. Keep in mind that the man is still a politician.

Stuff in My House

2009-01-11T12:56:00.005-06:00

Cave Art...

Animal...

Wood...

High-Tech Device

Weekly Wrap-Up

2009-01-09T21:09:00.003-06:00

Made it through another week. Can't say it was good, can't say it was bad. Some things could have gone a lot better, but it could be much worse.

Highlight of the week: Being given a no-tolerance mandate to arrive at work on time and showing up late every day of the week. That's something to be proud of, really. I wasn't surprised to wake up late Monday after not having to wake up early since Dec. 23. Sleep schedules, adjusting back to a routine, whatever. By Thursday I realized that what used to be a 13 minute drive took 21 minutes. Ok, I've got Friday to salvage a week of bad showings, get some sleep, get up earlier...I wake up exactly one minute before show time. "Uh, I'm late..."

Now, let's get one thing straight: I've never been a strong "waker". Or perhaps I'm an incredibly strong sleeper. As a young lad, it took repeated efforts by a parent to roust me in time to make it to school; During the college years it took an exceptional undertaking to present myself to any class earlier than 9am.

I've tried every alarm placement/timing/volume/variety combination I can think of. I moved the clock across the room so I can't turn it off instead of hitting snooze while I'm still drooling on my pillow. I've tried the radio alarm, tuned to stations with cochlearly offensive djs, blaring rapid-fire ads (radio ads are the most offensive form of any media), playing music that makes me anxious at best. All the while I've timed the television in the next room to turn on, the alarm on my phone to bleat...and they fail me.

As a result, I will devote time this weekend to engineering a foghorn leghorn type rousting device. Perhaps a trip wire attached to the snooze button that triggers a bowling ball rolling down a chute into a bowl of hydrochloric acid, creating a brisk, singing splash across my dormant dream-rapt mug. Maybe I can hire someone to come over and light my feet on fire. Maybe I need my ears cleaned...

Limping into the New Year

2009-01-06T21:38:00.002-06:00

So far 2009 hasn't gotten off to a strong start. I lost my glasses in a NYE party straw throwing riot, I've had a cold every day of the year to date and am a tad behind in the financial department. But what else could I expect?

When you're already broke, then end the year with an extended unpaid vacation, keeping up with the bills is going to be difficult. I figure I'll pull a couple side jobs, maybe get a part-time job waiting tables, cash in a healthy tax return as soon as possible...I should be back on my feet by mid-summer. Who needs money anyway?

There are some advantages to being broke, I guess. You get used to not being able to buy things or spending money in general. Instead of going out, stay home and read a book. Or write a readerless blog. Contentment via lowered expectations. It's kind of like that guy in Conan the Barbarian who sat in a vat of oil in order to rot away his penis so he could more productively focus energies otherwise spent on gettin' sexed. That's how I remember it anyway, I haven't seen that movie in about 25 years (Q: If the oil was going to remove his penis, wouldn't it have rotted everything else?). So, yeah, without all that money to spend, I don't have to waste time wanting things, since I know I can't have them anyway. Makes sense.

Breaking my Blog Cherry

2009-01-05T00:42:00.000-06:00

Well, well, well, it's 2009 and here I am on the Internettes...

I didn't get around to writing that novel in '08 either, so I thought this would be at least a (half-assed) way to start writing again.

There are no real plans for the content: Posts most likely will include bitching about my day at work, what I watched, how I fucked up my bike, etc. An "Injury of the Day/Week" accompanied by painful pic may become a recurring feature. Howz about, "Fucked up thing overheard at work?" You get the idea. By you, I mean no one.

So, uh, yeah...new year, new blog.