Wednesday, October 26, 2011
These are the moments I relish. Simply because I use these instances in my life to remind myself how fucking great I've got it. After four years I'm still able to maintain a mortgage on our lovely condo; I have a woman in my life who STILL, after witnessing all my faces, loves me unconditionally; I have a beautiful son who can't be anything less than a messenger from God (or a message from God); I have feet and legs and vision and hearing and taste buds and a mind that never allows me to feel satisfied; I have vehicles in the garage; I have comfortable shoes; I have a job that affords me silly dalliances like video games and comic books; and I have a seat on a heated train car speeding me into our nation's capitol twice a day five days a week. I know there's more, but I didn't have enough time to think of them because another train arrived to pick us up three minutes after we off loaded. Interestingly, my fellow off loaded passengers were still angry. The ones with the shiniest shoes always seem to be the most put out.
And then I got to work and opened the newspaper and got reminded of even more things I'm thankful for, like not having a bomb detonate near me on 15th Street, or having an empirical country's soldiers occupy my country because they want access to our oil. Maybe it's time more people in this great country of ours got off loaded in the middle of their routine, mundane lives so they can think about how fortunate they are. Maybe the fresh perspective will help someone somewhere like it helps me.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Why does the coffee at Starbucks Coffee suck? Am I the only person to ponder that question? Or, am I the only person who walks in asking for a simple cup of coffee? Are the barristas even trained to pour a simple cup of coffee? "Are you sure you don't want whip cream or caramel goo squirted in that coffee?"
I'm going to open a coffee shop. And the only way to get a cup of coffee is to belly up to the counter and sit on one of those circular, spinny stools. And the coffee will be served in an actual coffee cup on a saucer. And we only serve coffee. Black. The ball's in your court when it comes to adding cream and sugar. No muffins, no tea, no juice, no anything other than a cup of coffee. But there will be free wifi and ample electrical outlets to plug your laptops into. And the waitresses will be topless - only women with symmetrical areolas will be hired. Just checking to see if you were paying attention... there won't be any tits. But you might see an attractive person hanging out writing a script for a play that might make it to an off-Broadway production someday. And maybe that person is into the same sexual deviancies you are. Only one way to find out... come on down to my yet to opened coffee shop. I think I'll call it Jason's Coffee Shop.
Monday, October 24, 2011
My toe is purple. Purple! I accidentally "stubbed my toe" on James' baby swing and now my blessed toe is a shade of purple my body has never been. If it's broken I'll never know, because I refuse to sit in an emergency room for seven hours.
Which Lethal Weapon movie was it where Riggs was tied up and some thug was hammering his toes? THAT'S how I felt! Just like Lethal Weapon! And now I have a purple toe like a bad ass.
Friday, October 21, 2011
A carburetor skips, and rocks
will skip along the surface of
a pond. A fugitive will skip
the country if he can, and crooks
will skip the payment of their debts.
And one can walk content or run
with joy across a summer field.
But why omitting steps is such
a sign of pleasure's hard to say,
as if the gap and shift, the quick
eliding interruption of
a stride, reflects the shiver jolt,
releasing dance; accentuates,
as heart is said to skip a beat,
the lift, arrhythmic, breathless gasp
and rush and reach of crossing first
one threshold then another in
the vivid hop from foot to foot,
the hurrying toward and with delight.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Moral of the story: Life is a strange man saying something to you in a language you can't understand as he speeds past on his bicycle. Once a month. Forever.
Monday, October 17, 2011
I watched Cameron Crowe's documentary Pearl Jam Twenty on Saturday night. I'm not a big Pearl Jam fan, but holy shit this movie was fantastic. I was transported back to the early Nineties. The story of Pearl Jam and the birth of the Seattle grunge sound was surprisingly enthralling. I suppose it helps that I was coming into my own regarding musical tastes during that time period, but if you care about music at all I highly recommend watching this movie.
We shopped at Whole Foods over the weekend and spent gobs of money on meat. Honestly, if you like meat you really can't do better. There comes a time in a man's life when he has to ask himself: How important are my meat purchases? Am I satisfied with the shitty normal grocery store fare?
We tried shoving solid food in James' mouth yesterday. Nope. Not ready. He had the same look on his face as me when I ate eggplant the first time.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
There's experiences we're missing out on. There's facial expressions we can't see. Music heard as a collective group carries so much more water. So much more.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Wayne, the enthusiastic clerk, tested my comic knowledge with a series of questions about what books I read and what books I used to read. According to him, there's much I don't know. But I think that's how you pass the test. Allow Wayne to think he is better than you. Let him be your guide and teacher of this pulpy world. Wayne and I talked for an hour. Many people entered the store and left while I was in there. Some people came in for their "subscriptions" and left. Half of them were girls. Wayne tried to include them in our conversation regarding the recent movies Thor and Captain America. Most agreed that Thor was the better movie which goes against everything I heard.
The meeting ended with a handshake and the standard tattoo everyone gets when they become exclusive members of a comic shoppe. Metaphorically speaking.
I actually found one fairly close to my home in Old Town Alexandria. But this whole debacle got me to thinking... I should open my own comic book store in Alexandria. With the closing of Nova Comics I know there would be a market... The only problem would be coming up with a catchy, clever name. Like The Wizard's Spaceship; or, The Dragon's Lazer. Jason's Basement... sounds like a creepy place to buy men's underwear.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
You see, I'm a large man. Large and tall. The Metro seats are too small for me. My knees always (painfully) press against the seat in front. And if someone sits next to me, forget it - discomfort.
So this morning my commute felt like a high speed Asian train. Why do the good things go so fast? Typically when I'm jammed against the glass, knees afire, the train feels like a creeping wagon train being pulled across rugged terrain by elderly mules. Before I knew it my luxurious commute was over and I had to come back down from out of the clouds.
By the way, I'm reading The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides. For ex-English majors and literature lovers it's a must read. Recommendation made.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Or maybe I was just gazing among the strewn tents and camping gear longing to go camping myself. Of course my camping experience has deer lazily strolling through my field of vision, as opposed to the homeless men eyeballing fancy REI water jugs.
Which brings me to my point: I certainly hope all these white people leave something behind for the homeless people whose land they're "occupying." As far as demonstrations go, the clearest perspective I had was a clear division between the white people and their expensive nylon tents and the homeless (black) men in desperate need of a jacket. A perspective, mind you, I was able to have on my way to WORK. A job I obtained by putting myself through college, all while working full time in between classes so that I could pay my rent and buy groceries.
I do think it sucks that the government bails out corporations, but when it comes to putting food on the table for my family and keeping a roof over our heads I'll be working whatever job I can find. And trust me, if I were in a situation where I suddenly lost my current job you better believe I'll be working somewhere.
Yes, there are injustices in the world. And often people born on third base think they hit a triple to get there, but it's no reason to stop moving forward and point fingers. I'm no sympathizer of either side, but there's only one person who gives a fuck about you and your family.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Today I looked up from my book and discovered a woman looking at me. Typically, eye contact on the train is strange territory and usually accidental. But this chick was looking at me. Was she thinking, "Does he know he's not invisible?" Or was she thinking, "Wow, that guy hasn't looked up once during this entire trip." Or was she thinking, "Red hoodie was a good choice, dude. Roll on, righteous man." Or was she thinking, "I'd do him." Prolly that last one. Yeah.
Secondly, Occupy Wall Street, I'm not going to be a prick and say protesters are wasting their time, because hey this country was founded on nothing but protesting, but aren't there gobs of people who'd love to be there if not for the fact that they need to go to work so that they can pay the bills and feed their families? And what is it they're protesting? Capitalism? Good luck with that, unemployed cute college chicks.
Back to the sex games, so let me see if I understand this... American girl and Italian boy convince British girl to participate in a sex game. British girl somehow (accidentally?) dies and the other two get charged with murder. But wait, British girl had her throat slit. I'm confused. We've all had our sex games scares, but none of us has ever accidentally cut anyone's throats, am I right?
I obviously don't know all the facts.
Also, if I were a young Italian boy who somehow convinced two young girls to participate in sex games there is no way in hell I'm going to condone the murder of either of the girls thereby ending the sex games arrangement. There has got to be so much more to this story.
TV made me care about this story and I ain't gonna get any closure, am I? I'd appreciate a TV movie or something ASAP. Thanks.
UPDATE: The sex games was merely a theory. One of many in this very peculiar crime.