Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Oh Ugly - lyrics





Baseball men are small
beneath the concrete wall,
but I love this game.
I'd love to see them all.
Their feather beds feel right,
absorb my beams of light.
I sling the garbage bags.
They curse me through the night.

"Oh Ugly! Please let me be!
I'm the one who's really free.
Turn invisible,
and get my stars out of your eyes."

Wrinkles on my skin.
My bones are dry and thin.
Walking seems so slow.
These golden years are dim.
Sometimes I have to cough.
I ticks the bankers off.
They look at me as if
I drink straight from a trough.

"Oh Ugly! I hope you see
I'm so glad it's you not me.
Just hit the road,
and get my stars out of your eyes."

I'm majority,
but I'll never see
the inside of the restaurant
at 1333
on the Upper End of town,
where white shirts go to drown
away their pocketbooks.
I catch their groans and frowns.

"Oh Ugly! Get away from me!
There's somewhere else you should be.
Get on the bus,
and get my stars out of your eyes."

Monday, June 27, 2011

Here's To The You - My Favorite Songs About Drinking

Drinking has always been a source of songwriting inspiration. Here is my top ten list of songs that pay tribute to the bottle.

So pour yourself one and enjoy.

10. Gin and Juice - Snoop Dogg




09. There Stands The Glass - Conway Twitty (He didn't write it though)




08. Whiskey Is The Life Of Man - The Clancy Brothers (They didn't write it)



07. One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer - John Lee Hooker (He didn't write it)




06. Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down - Merle Haggard




05. Moonshiner - Bob Forrest (This is a Bob Dylan cover...none of Dylan's versions are available)




04. All For Me Grog - The Dubliners (The Clancy Brothers do a better version)




03. Lilac Wine - Jeff Buckley




02. Sunday Morning Coming Down - Kris Kristofferson




01. There's A Tear In My Beer - Hank Williams Sr.


Monday, June 20, 2011

For Yucks - What I Have Laughed At And Still Laugh At

I love to laugh, and I've watched a lot of comedy in my time. Here is a list of my ten favorite comedy specials, and some clips from them.


10. Redd Foxx "Video In A Plain Brown Wrapper" - 1983




Redd Foxx was more than Fred Sandford on TV's "Sandford and Son," much much more. Before his hit TV series in the 70's, and after it, he was a raunchy stand-up comedian. Foxx and other comedians like Moms Mabley set the groundwork for a host of epic comedians who followed - Richard Pryor, George Carlin, and Eddie Murphy. At one point in this clip, Foxx confronts a heckler who expresses disapproval in a joke by saying something to the extent of, "You don't like this show? Bend over. I'll drive you to Dallas." Classic.

09. Dave Chappelle "Killing Them Softly" - 2003




This special, and this clip in particular, are some great fucking comedy.

08. Lewis Black "Red, White, and Screwed" - 2006




I love Lewis Black. This was probably my favorite special. This clip is absolute genius.

07. Chris Rock "Bigger And Blacker" - 2000




I love everything he says in this comedy special because it's all true. This is probably my favorite clip from it. "The big piece of chicken." Makes me cackle every time.

06. Robin Williams "Live at the Roxy" - 1978




When I was 16 my dad moved to Joplin and got cable TV there. For the first time in my life I got to watch Comedy Central. Back then it was still a small time cable network. They showed old episodes of Soap and old comedy specials from the 1970's and 1980's. It was pretty awful for the most part. One special they showed over and over again was this one, featuring a Robin Williams who was at the time rising in popularity from his show Mork and Mindy. When I was 16 I couldn't believe how much energy he had and how quick things came to him on stage. He was utterly brilliant. Now I know why...every tissue in his body was saturated with cocaine...and looking back on this special I can see it. This old promo clip is the only one I could find on YouTube of this show, but it shows a pretty good variety of the craziness that was this special.

05. Rowan Atkinson "Rowan Atkinson Live" -1988




Yes, Rowan Atkinson did more than Black Adder and Mr. Bean. He was actually a pretty decent sketch style comedian too. This was another old Comedy Central special that ran a lot. I love every single sketch, but this one is my favorite!

04. Eddie Murphy "Raw" - 1987




This is Eddie Murphy on lots of cocaine. In this clip he is talking about his father. Makes me piss myself every time.

03. Dana Carvey "Critic's Choice" - 1995




Oh man....this comedy special still makes me laugh years and years later. My friend Paul and I still quote this special all the time. In this clip he impersonates Jimmy Stewart getting a blow job...what isn't to like?

02. Bill Cosby "Himself" - 1983



"Dad is great! He give us the chocolate cake!" Fucking funny.

01. Bill Connolly - "Pale Blue Scottish Person" - 1991



My sister had a friend named Devin who used to come over a lot with her friends. We didn't have cable TV because my dad was cheap, so we didn't get to see a lot of comedy except what was on Carson or Letterman. Devin had a VHS tape of all kinds of different comedy he would tape off VH1 and HBO. This special by Bill Connolly was one of those specials, and is the one that I remember the most. My sisters and I still quote about 90% of the lines from this special. It is so fucking messed up, but so fucking funny too. You ever get a chance watch it. In this clip Billy is talking about "having a wank."

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Wounded Town Now On iTunes For Charity!



Some of you know, and some of you may not know, that three weeks ago the city I live in, Joplin, MO, was hit by an F5 tornado which is the most powerful tornado there is. It formed west of the city, was 3/4 of a mile wide, and carved a path of destruction 14 miles long. I was huddled in the bathroom of the house I live in with 4 cats - 3 Poindexter cats (Sif, Orion, and Thor) and my cat Echo - and my roommates - Sean and Amanda Poindexter. We listened to the radio as they said the tornado had been spotted in our vicinity. We heard it roar past. It sounded like every account I'd ever heard, a bunch of freight trains. In that moment I contemplated my life and came to grips with the fact that I might die in this bathroom with these people, and in that moment a gentle sense of acceptance and calm washed over me. Luckily, I didn't have to face death that day. My house was not in the path of the storm. If the storm had been been a little wider or if it had decided to turn 1/4 of a mile to the north it would have been. I didn't lose anything in the storm. All my loved ones and close friends were not hurt (though some lost homes and jobs). At the end of the day many weren't so lucky. As of today 153 people have died as a result of the storm, over 9000 families are homeless, and thousands more have no job. Some people have called me blessed. Others have called me lucky. I would call myself both of those things.

In the weeks after the tornado I wanted to badly to get out there, roll up my sleeves, and help. There was however a problem. I am a childhood cancer survivor and my life has been nothing but having to deal with physical limitations. For the most part I can overcome these limitations. I've gotten pretty damn good at figuring out ways to adapt to life so I can a relatively normal existence. However, when it comes to things like being out in the hot sun for hours on end, lifting debris, hauling stuff away in a truck, or doing all the other things people needed help with, adaptation is of little help. There aren't many ways to get around lifting a heavy board. You just have to lift it. So for the weeks after I felt like a slave to my own limitations, and I have always hated that. So, I decided to adapt, and find another way to help.

I tried to figure out what I was good at. I can draw. So I thought maybe I could do a special ROBOTS DOING PEOPLE THINGS that was for Joplin. I did. I offered prints. I offered t-shirts, and I got some interest, but nothing sold. I offered to donate proceeds from my songwriting to Joplin relief efforts. Again, I got some interest, but very little sold. During this time I had this little tune stuck in my head, a song that I thought could be written about Joplin, but I didn't really want to write it. I had told myself that I wasn't going to write a song about Joplin. I didn't want to be "That Guy," and besides, there were going to be so many musicians trying to write songs about Joplin, and I guarantee many of them wouldn't be doing it for the right reasons. I didn't want to be lumped into that group. I didn't want people saying, "Well the only reason Ross wrote that song was to make money and get publicity." I kept fighting it. I didn't want to do it. Thing is, sometimes a song won't leave you alone...and this one most certainly kept bugging me. So I finally wrote it.

It's called "Wounded Town." I posted the lyrics some weeks ago. I wanted to do two things with the song. I wanted it first, to be a narrative. That is, I wanted it to be told from a point of view. I didn't want it to be my reflections of my destroyed town. I wanted it to be the experience told from the view of people who lived through it. That's exactly what I did. In fact, I there are three different points of view of the song. The first verse is from the perspective of an elderly person who has died. The second verse is either a relief worker or someone who has lost a home. And the third verse is someone in the future looking at the new buildings and thinking back to the events of 5-22-11. The second thing I wanted to do is make it ambiguous. I didn't want to specifically reference the tornado or Joplin because I wanted people to feel like this could be their town. I find with songs the more accessible it is, the more people can share in the experience, the more impact it has. When the song was done I called up my buddy Aaron Moore and asked him to produce it. We recorded it on a Saturday. He provided the acoustic guitar part and the harmonies. I did the lead vocals and the ukulele. When we finished there was still a part in the middle that needed something. So I decided to call my friend Jason Stamper who added an excellent and soulful harmonica solo a week later. We finished it up Saturday.

Today I uploaded the song to iTunes. Later this week it will be available on Amazon, Napster, and Zune. It is only $.99 to download, and everything I make off downloads is going back into the community of Joplin, MO.

I invite you to download it for yourself. If you want to hear the song you can do so on this blog. Just look to your right and you'll see my Reverbnation widget. "Wounded Town" is the top song. If you like it, and want to purchase it then go here.

Above all, please please please please spread the word. The more people know about it, the more people will download, and the more Joplin will benefit. It's as simple as that.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Midnight Train - song



I'm on a midnight train, just past insane.
The moon is bright on this frigid night.
There's a guitar wailing. My feet are flailing
to the bluesy tones, but I'm so alone.

And alone is just a word I use for nothing better to do.
Alone is just a word I use for nothing better to do.
It comes and goes. It comes and goes.
It comes and goes. It comes and goes.

I'm all aboard with my checker board.
We play from dusk till dawn. It goes on and on.
Me and Buck-Tooth Larry, Brother Terry,
Slick and Jim, these are all my friends.

And friend is just a word I use for everybody I know.
Friend is just a word I use for everybody I know.
They come and go. They come and go.
They come and go. They come and go.

So we bide our time. We do the time.
The ride is rough. The beat is tough.
We dream of towns to settle down.
We've seen dreams fall, but we've loved them all.

And love is just a word I use to describe a feeling.
Love is just a word I use to describe a feeling.
Oh love is just a word I use to describe a feeling.
Love is just a word I use to describe a feeling.
It comes and goes. It comes and goes.
It comes and goes. It comes and goes.


Lonely Laying Here - song




Another old song revamped for uke
Music by David Mink and Words by me

Shot down on 3rd and 22
for a wallet and my shoes.
I...see the sun up in the sky.
I...guess I'm gonna die.
So cold, so cold I feel like mud.
So red, the pavement with my blood.
I...see the sun up in the sky.
I...guess I'm gonna die.

It's lonely, lonely laying here.
So lonely, lonely laying here.

They say, God he has a plan.
I wish he'd make me understand
why I...see the sun up in the sky,
why I...guess I'm gonna die.
Please, sir! Hurry and find my wife.
Tell her I'm bound to lose my life,
that I...see the sun up in the sky,
that I...guess I'm gonna die.

It's lonely, lonely laying here.
So lonely, lonely laying here.

Do me one favor, if you please.
Keep my, keep my tombstone clean.
I...see the sun up in the sky.
I...guess I'm gonna die.
I feel this coil slipping free!
Donna, please don't cry for me.
I...see the sun up in the sky.
I...guess I'm gonna die.

It's lonely, lonely laying here.
So lonely, lonely laying here.

Thumbtacks In My Ice Cream - song




Another old song revamped for uke
Music by David Mink and words by me

I see a perfect angel walking with the blues.
I see a perfect angel walking with the blues.
I think, "should I say something?"
but I figure, "what's the use?"

I got this little problem, can't talk to angels that I see.
I got this little problem, can't talk to angels that I see.
I just sit and stare at the,
but they never stare back at me.

Masses of confusion bang me to the brain.
Masses of confusion bang me to the brain,
like broken glass and anvils
falling down like rain.

I just want to scream so she can see me bleed.
I just want to scream so she can see me bleed
from the thumbtacks in my ice cream
and the acid in my mead.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Cardboard Chuck - song




Roscoe Jones had a corn cob phone.
He drank pond water with garden gnomes.
He blew his nose with a strippers thong
and waved at the ladies as he sang this song.

Bury me in a suit.
Comb my hair with a prostitute.
When I get to Heaven I want God to say:
"Man, I wish I swung that way!"

Clint Stewhopper was a hundred and eight
and used brown gravy to masturbate,
smoked tobacco from a hound dog's skull.
Every Friday night you could hear his call.

Bury me in a suit.
Comb my hair with a prostitute.
When I get to Heaven I want God to say:
"Man, I wish I swung that way!"

But my daddy was the best of all,
a pink gorilla at nine feet tall,
farted popcicles from his fingernail tree
then got a tattoo of this royal decree!

Bury me in a suit.
Comb my hair with a prostitute.
When I get to Heaven I want God to say:
"Man, I wish I swung that way!"

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Drinking & Thinking - song



Another old one revamped for uke

Been drinking and thinking
how sanity in me keeps on shrinking.
I'm drinking whiskey, which is risky,
tonight.
I burnt my midnights into sunlights.
Reality, she put up a good fight,
but with scotch I'm going to watch it
melt away.

Everybody thinks I'm crazy,
and my mind is over hazy
because she left me here
with bitterness and beer.

I'm tripping and flipping
put of my mind I keep on slipping
through make believe I receive
tonight.

Been drinking and thinking
how people are like eyes that keep blinking.
I'm sipping wine, but I'm not fine
tonight.
I've seen some motion in the ocean.
Off the coast of everything there is commotion.
I'm holding gin, to my chin,
and setting here.

All their eyes stare straight at me
with criminal degrees.
They think I've lost my way
because I always stay.

I'm where the door meets the floor,
and I won't be back anymore.
I'm mixing mai tais with goodbyes
tonight.

Sparky's Blues - song


This is another older song I have revamped for uke.

Well, her left breast tattoo
said "Wanted Dead of Alive."
She got it in Cleveland
back in 1965.
Her slinky fishnet stockings
had seen a time or two.
They had these great big holes
where the milky white poked through.

And I was really really drunk,
so you can understand
why I said, "God Bless, Mrs. Robinson!
I believe you found your man."

The wrinkles on her face
went down to Chinatown,
but I was broken up.
I was feeling down.
Her grandma hands were something like
some kind of awful dream,
and when she held me close
she smelled like Aspercreme.

And I was really really drunk,
so you can understand
why I said, "God Bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."

Well the lovin's double good
from women twice your age,
and tigers get pissed off
when you keep them in their cage.
Did I do the deed?
Did I play that show?
Well beggars can't be choosers.
That's all you need to know.

And I was really really drunk,
so you can understand
why I said, "God Bless, Mrs. Robinson
I believe you found your man."

Reprise Of The Blues - song




This is a song I recorded a long time ago that I revamped yesterday for uke.

I'm riding on the potholes
of this lonely afternoon,
wondering if it's now,
or if it's all too soon,
wondering
what I'm going to do,
but I'm stuck in a strand of time
with a reprise of the blues.

I'm waxing up self-consciously.
I've bit it with a smile.
I'm glazed in conversation.
I'm walking that extra mile,
walking
for a better point of view,
but I'm stuck in a strand of time
with a reprise of the blues.

So I'll shout it from the buildings:
"It's time to save the king!"
You've save the souls of gods and men,
hope I'm somewhere in between,
hoping
it'll all come through,
but I'm stuck in this strand of time
with a reprise of the blues.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Unknown - song




People have told me before I die:
"Great things will happen, and that's why
people will know you. They'll call your name,"
but great hasn't happened. It's still the same.

My wind has blown,
and I'm still unknown.

Others have told me: "Your soul is old.
You know the meaning of bitter and cold.
You have a lens that so few can use.
You carve these sculptures and call them the blues."

But my wind has blown,
and I'm still unknown.

The rest of you tell me: "Keep doing your thing.
You touch our hearts with the words that you sing."
Well, I've got to tell you, the sadder truth still,
touching your heart, it don't pay my bills.

My wind has blown,
and I'm still unknown.


Friday, June 3, 2011

30 Day Song Challenge Pt 2: 20-11

I think the 30 Day Song Challenge on Facebook was one of the coolest Facebook time wasters they ever came up with. I decided when I was finished with the challenge I would write a blog about my choices and kind of go into more detail about why I made some of my decisions. This is the second part of what will be a three part series.

Part II - 20-11

20. A Song I Listen To When I'm Angry




I remember the exact moment I first listened to "OK Computer" by Radiohead. Nick Bradford and I had just gone to the book barn to spend money on CD's, and Nick bought it. He told me he had owned the CD at one time, but his ex-girlfriend stole it when they broke up with each other, and he'd always loved the album. Radiohead was a band I only had a passing familiarity with. I knew "Creep" and "Karma Police," and that was about it. Nick couldn't believe I had never heard the album before and after we bought it we drove around in his red Mustang and listened to the entire album. "This is quite possibly the most angsty album you will ever hear," he told me. To this day I think he was right about that. At that time, right out of high school and just starting college, I was in a weird place emotionally. I was bitter toward love, pissed off at God, and sinking into the vacuum of nihilism. In short I was mad at everyone and everything, and this album, and in particular this song, became my banner. The song starts at such a passive, emotional place, and builds to this all out assault of anger, ending on maybe one of the most hateful phrases in songwriting history, "We hope that you choke, that you choke." Yes, for the years that followed, this song would be played many more times, and from time to time I still rely on it.

19. A Song From My Favorite Album



Dylan had to make this list eventually. It was inevitable. My favorite album of all time is Dylan's Bootleg Series Volume 4: 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert. If I could save one of my albums from utter destruction it would be this one. Here, we see Dylan at a crossroads - his departure away from folk and his embrace of rock and roll. It is a snapshot into a very significant point in modern music history (top 5 for sure), and the album itself illustrates this - a Dylan concert in two parts: an acoustic set where the crowd is warm and inviting and an electric set where the crowd boos him and at one point yells "Judas!" at him. "Visions of Johanna" is by far my favorite Dylan song, and this version of that song is the one I prefer above all others. It's slowed down, acoustic, and personal. That's all I can say about this entry, as I've already written a post about this song. I invite you to read it.

18. A Song I Wish I Heard On The Radio




I don't listen to the radio...at all. I hate the music that's played on it. So yes, I would like to hear some Mountain Goats on the radio. Why wouldn't I?

17. A Song I Hear Often On The Radio



In the rare event I do listen to the radio it's usually an oldies station, and it never fails that I hear this song. Also, I really hate this song!

16. A Song I Used To Like But Now Hate




In 7th and 8th grade I was all about Led Zeppelin. I used to crank my Zeppelin Greatest Hits cassette tape while I played Secret of Mana on Super NES. As time went on, though, I became interested in other kinds of music, and Led Zeppelin became less and less impressive to me. It also didn't help that every time I went into a bar, or a head shop, or talked to any skeezer about music Led Zeppelin was usually a band that was playing or talked about. For me Zeppelin is a lot like Jerry Maguire - great the first time I saw it, but annoying after the next 89,000 times. The same holds true for "Stairway To Heaven."

15. A Song That Best Describes Me




I said in my original post that there were several reasons I chose this as a song that best describes me. I will now point out those reasons.

1. It's Muppets. My love and admiration of the Muppets is well documented, and they have been a cornerstone of my life, and have shaped a lot of my attitude toward life.

2. It's Comedy. The secret to comedy is timing, and this sketch is one of the best examples of it. Kermit sets up the bit as Irish themed. We see the curtain go up, and there are a few seconds before the singing happens and we see, Swedish Chef, Beaker, and Animal in green hats. There is a pause. We know something funny is coming, but we're still not prepared for it, as the three most inarticulate Muppets sing Danny Boy, a song that is supposed to be sorrowful. It makes me cackle every time I see it and hear it. I love to laugh, I love to make people laugh, so this song being so steeped in comedy also describes me very well.

3. Like I said before, the song is "Danny Boy," a sad Irish ballad about someone who has died. My family has deep roots in Ireland on both sides. Irish music stirs a lot of emotions in me that can only be explained as old and ancestral. And it's a sad song, which typically are the kinds of songs I like to listen to and create.

14. A Song No One Would Expect Me To Like



Kellen Neubert and Gordon Campbell and I used to listen to Wu Tang on the way to lunch everyday during high school. I associate a lot of great memories of playing chess in Mr. Bastin's classroom during lunch to "Bring Da Ruckus." Plus, I have a secret obsession for hardcore gangsta rap.

13. A Song That Is A Guilty Pleasure



"Coney Island Baby" isn't so much the guilty pleasure here. Barbershop music as a genre is the guilty pleasure. Ever since I was like seven years old I wanted to be in a barbershop quartet. I think they are the pinnacle of coolness. I'm also a dork.

12. A Song From A Band I Hate



I really hate Hanson. I hated them when they were popular. I hate them now as an adult. To me it was just bubble gum music. I had a girl in high school try to explain to me that there was a deeper meaning to "MmmBop," that it referred to a fleeting moment in time that you can't describe in words. I told her I thought it was just a stupid song hook. At any rate, I really hate this song!

11. A Song From A Band I Love



"Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" is a very close second behind Dylan's Bootleg Series Volume 4: 1966 Royal Albert Hall Concert as an album I'd want to save from total destruction. It's another one of those snapshots of a crossroads in modern music. Here the Beatles have decided to stop touring, their manager has died, and for once they are at a place where they can really explore their potential as musicians and artists. Before "Pepper" came out, there had been a period of several months where no one heard anything from the Beatles. Many critics thought the band was done, another flash in the pan that couldn't survive under the weight of their own success. Then they released "Pepper" in 1967, and it was similar to when Dylan went electric. Their old fan base hated them and turned away from them, but their reward was a much greater, much more appreciative fan base. The album changed the kind of band they were, and became the measure for the kind of music that followed. Even to this day when we talk about the best album by a particular band, we refer to it as that band's "Sgt. Pepper."

At the end of "Pepper" is what I consider the Beatles strongest song - "A Day In The Life." This song has so many things go on that make it great. I hope I can hit them all.

First, the vocals are haunting. George Martin did a fantastic job weaving John's already brilliant vocals around the main song, and blended Paul's bridge into the middle beautifully.

Second, with the exception of maybe "Across The Universe" or "Elenor Rigby," I think lyrically this song might be the strongest. The meaning sits on the edge of ambiguous, but the combinations of words is a vivid tapestry.

Third, it builds. MY GOD DOES IT BUILD! We climb this mountain with this musical mountain or lyrics and instrumentation. At one point we think the symphony is taking us someplace great, but we're dropped down again into Paul's bridge, only to be carried back down on John's voice to the final verse, but then the symphony rises, and rises, and rise, and then all of sudden BONG!!!! The song ends in quite possibly the most perfect way.

Listen to it again.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Things People Assume I Like But I Really Don't Pt. 4

Welcome to the Hodge Podge Edition of Things People Assume I Like But I Really Don't. It's a hodge podge because I really didn't have enough material to make full blogs out of each of these things, so I decided to mesh them together and make one blog. So here we go!


"I'm going to recall something from my childhood in a very intense way with a lot of body movement.
Isn't that funny?"


Yeah. I really don't like Dane Cook. He is second on the list of comedians who I just cannot stand to listen to, and he's only second because Jeff Dunham exists. Most people can understand my hatred of Jeff Dunham, or Larry the Cable Guy, or any of those other Blue Collar rednecks who keep their comedy low brow and rely on fart jokes for punchlines. However, few people can understand my dislike for Dane Cook, but I think it's easy enough to understand - his comedy is boring...plain and simple. If you really sit down and listen to his set there is absolutely no substance to it at all. There are a lot of obscenities, a lot of jocularity, and a lot of Dane Cook describing things or life situations in a very intense way. A prime example of this is his bit about the Price Is Right where he describes in intense detail watching the Price Is Right.



When I first heard this bit I thought it was amusing. Like Dane, that was a show I watched when I was home sick from school, and yes, all of those games were just the way he described him. After the bit, however, I thought "Well was that really funny? I mean, was there comedic value to this bit?" Because for me it was just intense recollections, and for me that just isn't funny. Then again I like some pretty weird comedy, so who knows? All I know is that Dane Cook is a comedian I don't like, and people are surprised by that.

I saw an elephant do this once.



I love the creative process. I write songs and draw pictures all the time. I have a tremendous amount of respect for the artist and the creative process. That is why many many many people are shocked when they find out that I don't like Jackson Pollock. "He painted energy, man. How can you not love that?" That's something someone once asked me after I told them I didn't care for Mr. Pollock's work. My response was somewhat pointed, "I saw an elephant do a painting like that once."

Art, like so many things, comes down to personal taste. Pollock may have had some sort of plan, or he may have really been into the passion of the moment artistically (which I can respect), but as viewers of art we are not privy to that kind of thing. All we have is the work in front of us and our own emotions to go off of. Many people connect with Pollock on some level. I don't. To me it just looks like the random splatters of an elephant painting. So for me, I echo the sentiments of Georgia O'Keeffe when she was asked in an interview what she thought of Jackson Pollock. "They can have him," she said. I for one agree.

Meh.



Okay, let me begin by saying I DON'T HATE BOOBS! I like them alright. I'm just kind of tired of them. Let me relate something to you that best illustrates me sentiments.

When I was a kid it was a rare treat to have shrimp for dinner. I lived in Carthage, and the grocery stores didn't have fresh shrimp. For that you had to drive to Joplin and go to Dillon's. We hardly ever went to Joplin for groceries, and even if we did it usually wasn't for shrimp. Shrimp was pretty expensive too, so we only got to have boiled shrimp and cocktail sauce once a year, in the summer, and that was it! So, as such, shrimp was one of my favorite things to eat for a long time. As I got older, though, my attitude toward shrimp began to change. Stores in Carthage began carrying shrimp. The production of domestic shrimp made them more abundant and cheaper to buy. Soon, shrimp began showing up in all manner of foods, in all manner of restaurants. My rare treat was establishing itself on the table of mediocrity. These days you can get shrimp anywhere. Hell, I could go to Long John Silvers and buy some right now. It's not that I hate shrimp now. It still taste good to me. It's just that when I go out to eat or I have dinner, I'd rather cook something else. My attitude toward boobs is pretty much the same.

When I was a young teenager, bursting with hormones, a boob was something I only got to see once in a great while: at a friend's house in one of his dad's dirty magazines, on a video my sister's forgot to take back to the video store, in my imagination as I thumbed through the pages of Victoria Secret. I had an old beta copy of the movie Colors with Sean Penn and Robert Duvall. There was one boob scene in it that I rewound until the tape eventually broke. It was hard to see an actual boob, but when you did manage to catch a glimpse of one it was well worth the reward. I have found as I get older, as television becomes more lax about the kind of content it allows, as the internet makes boobs more readily available to my attention, that they have become kind of boring to me.

I am reminded again of another time in my life that echoes this sentiment. My friend had his bachelor party at a local strip club (the only such party I've ever been to with strippers). I was on my third lap dance. A busty woman had my face buried a mile into her chest. I could feel the vibrations of her boobs on the side of my head. It was neat, but I couldn't help but think to myself, "You know, if this is the extent of the activity this evening I'm going to get bored really fast." And I was right. I can't recall leaving that place and thinking, "You know, I really think the boobs were my favorite part of the evening." For me that's boobs. They look nice. They feel nice. But ultimately, there are so many other things I find interesting about ladies that I could really take them or leave them.

So to boobs, I say "Meh."










Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Wounded Town - song



I remember being old,
some needles and a cane.
Seems as though I’m younger now,
a spirit that remains.
So, I leave this world behind,
my bones beneath a mound,
and I don’t regret the life I spent
in wounded town.

Poured some coffee in my cup.
Keep it black and strong.
Get my work boots, caked with yesterday.
Today seems just as long.
I’ve got no time for breakfast.
Couldn’t keep it down
on my way to work today
in wounded town.

In the future building’s shadow,
in the echoes of the trees
are the fainted sounds of freight trains,
of glass and broken knees.
We are kings, and queens, and princes
of broken, bruised, and bound,
but here we call it breathing
in wounded town.