vignette sandwiches

cold turkey


I paced nervously-- there really is only one way to pace, and that's nervously.

I kept thinking about getting a fix. I could call the connection and get a small amount to tie me over until the next time I am in need...

Sweating, smoking my cigarette at a banshee's keel, anxious and agitated... The night is going by too slowly...

I tossed and turned and twisted in my bed, doubling over in pain. Tears were swelling in the pockets of my eyelids. I agonized silently for an indefinite span of time.

I made another phone call. Left a message, a desperate cry for help. I was out of luck. Tonight I will have to get through this bare-knuckled...

Eventually I fell asleep. It was a sleeper's sleep, one for the angels.

In the morning I woke up and made a call to my connection.

"Hey, what's up?"

"How are you?"

"Better. Sorry about yesterday. I was drunk."

"Oh, I see... that explains it." She laughed.

"Yeah, I know..." I said, sheepishly.

"I'm on my way to my mom's house. We'll be ready to go very soon. Finally got all of my stuff done and my bags packed."

"You're coming back on Monday?"

"Yeah, Monday. I'll see you then."

"Have fun on the cruise."

"Thanks. Have a great weekend."

"I'll try."

Now that she's out of town, she is out of mind. But until that morning phone call, I was some sort of a nervous wreck. I was cracking up, perhaps equating her vacation with abandonment fears. We are still not dating but with all the transitions I've been making lately I feel like I am losing control over so many things, and she is one of them.

But now... I am breathing easier. I am not so upset.

I wonder why that is.


*/*


dead milkmen


Whenever I'm bummed out and feeling loser-ish, I put on a Dead Milkmen CD and just rock out. They were never a particularly good band, nor were they consistently weird or funny enough to be freaky. But I liked their collective heart.

They were once described as being "gleefully nihilistic", and with song titles such as "Life Is Shit" and "Takin' Retards To The Zoo" I guess that wouldn't be too far gone a description of them.

Their biggest hit was the song "Punk Rock Girl", a goofy and ragtag mix of Cajun accordian and grunge-rock guitar twang set to a fast tempo and punctured by snotty, stoner-dumb lyrics. Incredibly catchy, that "Punk Rock Girl"... If you haven't heard it before then try and find a copy of their finest album, Beelzebubba.

Anyway, so I've been bluesing it up lately and I put on Beelzebubba and rocked out. And then when I got to the radio station yesterday I looked them up on Wikipedia. I was surprised to learn that only two years ago the Dead Milkmen bass player committed suicide.

Weird... and somehow poignant, because now their songs have an edge of sadness and tragedy that they never indulged in with their music. They were content to be semi-anonymous clowns making strange ditties about backyards lizards and bitchin' Camaros. That worked to their disadvantage, making their music something you pulled out for certain moods and specific people only.

Now, there is something a little bit more universal about their music. It no longer seems confined to some esoteric pop cultural trivia realm. A death hitting close to home has opened up their albums in a way it was unwilling to do when they were a group. Knowing that the quiet, polite and (relatively) most normal member of the band was torn apart inside gives a song like "Death's Alright With Me" a little bit of perspective:


Death's alright with me
When it's on TV
Death's alright with me
How funny it can be (ha ha)
Death's alright with me
It's a chance to grow
Death's alright with me
Put me on death row


They're bleak lyrics on the surface, until you hear them with the accompanying music: upbeat, sunny major chords, sloppy haphazard production values... Hardly the funeral dirge you'd expect from the somber words above.

I went out and bought a copy of the Milkmen's Big Lizard In My Backyard, along with a copy of Fugazi's Repeater. The Milkmen purchase is a tribute, and the Fugazi purchase is... well, because they were always so damned serious about not selling out.

I totally respect that.


*/*


anger


I've been chomping at the bit, hungry for some music action. May was spent cutting down on my musical exploits-- no gigs, very little rehearsing, relaxing and getting ready to make the job switch.

June is here, with a debut gig on the way and another gig with the band I've been in for almost a year now. I rehearsed Wednesday night and last night, and will rehearse tonight as well. I am getting some of my residual angst and anger out by playing my ass off with these groups.

Speaking of anger, I heard that song "Rise" by PiL on the radio, the one with the chorus "May the road rise with you" repeated over and over. There's that one killer line in it: "ANGER IS AN ENERGY!"

Johnny Lydon's voice, so petulant, so embittered, so truculent.

I have been really angry lately, because I feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick concerning everything: friends, family, relationships, finances, hobbies... I feel like I am entitled to something but I can't figure out what it is.

Rather than flail away at imaginary straw villains, I think I will try and channel all that rage and hatred into something that will serve me well. Maybe that's what I need to do, instead of stewing in my own biases and fears.

I am the chameleon, changing skins once again.


Your time has come
Your second skin
The cost so high
The gain so low
Walk through the valley
THE WRITTEN WORD IS A LIE


Thank you, Johnny, for that vivid reminder. I sometimes forget that this world is constantly in flux, rife with impermanence.

Today is the second to last day here at this gig. Monday is the last day, and after that... Who knows? Maybe I'll be blogging, maybe I won't.

Have a beautiful weekend, people.