GET BACK, OR I WILL ATTACK
The man across from me has a NY Times and the front page has a huge picture of Bush and his cabinet in casual wear, on their vacation retreat where they will plot more ways to rob us. It occurs to me seeing this that there should be some kind of fashion requirement to be President. A guy who likes a lot of denim and big belt buckles like Shrub would never have made it into office, even with a brother who is governor in Florida, if there was a swimsuit competition. Perhaps California has it right and their current gubernatorial freak show is pointing the way to the future. We all need to be a little more shallow in how we pick our leaders.
Early morning with Simon & Garfunkle (Bridge Over Troubled Water) at Starbucks. Listening to them a lot lately, via a box set of their albums gifted to me by the Bendises last year…and as Joe Nozemack once said (I paraphrase), when I am in the mood for Simon & Garfunkle, I want a lot of Simon & Garfunkle. Of course, the spring in my step on the way here was Relaxed Muscle’s “Billy Jack,” which is just a corker. God bless Jarvis Cocker.
I guess this is the unfocused 8:19 a.m. update (the document I type these in when away, to be uploaded later, is “Remote Confessions,” for those who might find that interesting). I wasn’t planning to work today, but I spent an unfocused night where I couldn’t find a path and just watched a lot of Simpsons on DVD (the last disc of season 2 is exceptional) and woke up not wanting to get in the same groove. I started the still unnamed manga’s second volume two nights ago, and figured I’d at least leave the house and cover another chapter of that. Strangely, was recognized by a new barista here who knew me from about nine years ago when we went to the same (now defunct) comic book shop. I was like, “Oh, yeah, you had funky hair back then…and of course, so did I.” Now she must be of college age, maybe just out…dunno. She was a teenager then, and a friend of the owner (who I knew), and I give props to her memory for seeing through my old man disguise. I think you do more growing up physically heading into your thirties then you do heading into your twenties. All of you young’uns looking to leave adolescence and see your bodies stop changing…guess what?! It ain’t over yet. I think you’ll particularly enjoy your body’s new and surprising places to give you hair.
Troubled dreams lately. Friday morning I escaped someone from my past giving me a message. Nothing like waking up just before, and that “oh no” feeling quickly morphing to, “I bet I didn’t want to hear it anyway.” And this morning being sucked into someone else’s life on the lam, and then having to figure out how to bluff my way through her being pinched for shoplifting something that I couldn't figure out what it was. You haven’t dreamed until you’ve heard yourself say to an Asian convenience store owner, “What’s it going to take to make this go away?”
I just deleted a “just” from two paragraphs above, and then nullified it by having “just” be the second word of this sentence. Cocksucker!
9:26 and still no thread.
The small snippet in the last entry turned into 2,644 words of The Everlasting, for those keeping track. And I despite my rambling here, I did get 40 script pages (two chapters) done by 10:11 today. It was a bit weird, because secret manga can be a bit racy…and with the book propped up on the table, you never know what people might think I am doing with a comic with boobies and laptop!
They call me Jamie Driver. I wonder how your engines feel?