shlepcar

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Write-Ups by shlepcar

I couldn’t let the last SongOTheDay be one as cynical and overly dramatic as “Is That All There Is?”  We need to go out on a high note.   We started this site with The Hold Steady’s “Positive Jam” and we’re ending it, at least this version of it (Dave Murphy, make the next one happen!), with “Feeling Good”.  Bookends.

Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good” was the first Song of the Day back when it was an email only thing.  I wrote then that I had first heard the song sitting out back at Zeitgeist.  It was raining, so my buddy and I were sitting under the eave.  When the song came on I was so entranced I had to go see who it was- I thought it was a man- but it turned out to be Nina.

Man (or a woman if you are one), this has been fun.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading everything all of you have written.  I’ve also really dug hearing a lot of music I probably wouldn’t have heard otherwise.

I hope in the new year you all keep on writing, being creative, and listening to more music.  Remember, there is nothing wrong with liking Dave Matthews intensely, so long as you don’t just stop there. :-)  

Ah, full circle.

…

In 1978, when I was eight-years-old, these things happened:
- I watched Bombo Rivera, the left fielder of the Twins, make a diving, game-saving catch on a ball drilled to left by the Detroit Tigers Rusty Staub.  Bombo’s pretty much been my favorite player ever since.
- Playing 3rd base for my Little League team, I successfully fielded a hard hit ball, threw the kid out at first and then made it back to the bag in time to catch a throw from the first basemen and tag out a kid trying to go to third on the throw.  Seriously, one of the all-time personal highlights- I sucked at baseball just a year prior. 
- Superman came out
- I got sent to the hallway for misbehaving about 30 times.  They made me see a school shrink.  I charmed the shit out of him.

In 1988, when I was 18-years-old:
- I graduated from high school and was free!  Twenty years later I am still happy high school is over.  I mean, I had fun and all, but still.
- I saw my Twins lose the Western-division title to the obviously juiced up tandem of Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco. Bastards.
- Bobby McFerrin conquered the pop charts with “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”
- I got my apartment broken into and robbed…twice

In 1998, when I was 28-years-old:
- I bowled 211, beating my previous personal record of 207, which I set in 6th grade.  I think the LSD helped.
- I met Werner Herzog
- I wrote movie reviews for a website and my school
- Shooting hoops at night at San Rafael high, I watched a balloon escape from the gymnasium, fly about 500 yards above the court and hill, and then come back down to me, I hadn’t moved, and it landed in my hand…

Now it’s 2008, and holy crap, I’m 38-years-old. And if my reflection on thirty years has taught me anything, it’s that this year I’m likely to robbed (or hustled…or maybe just a piano will fall on my head).

Have the best year ever.

And remember to find a little love within you for the ‘unlovable’.

-shlepcar

P.S.  The site will remain up as it is until January 7th.  If you’d like to make any comments on anybody’s write-ups until then, please do. They will be included on the saved posts that will go out with the discs.

“Ridiculous marching band started playing / Got me singing along with some half-hearted victory song…

The trumpet has obviously been drinking / ’cause he’s fucking up even the simplest lines”

-Elliott Smith “Rose Parade”

 

That is how I feel, and have felt more often than not, when trying to find the words for whatever it is I mean to say.  Fucking up even the simplest lines.

Shit, now what am I going to do? 

That thought has gone through my head quite a bit the past few weeks knowing that things are wrapping up.  I’ve always wanted to be creative, and while admittedly my submissions have often skewed more journal than anything artistic, this has been an outlet for me that I really have loved.  My goal was to see it through- which is something I have not done in a long time when it comes to anything close to creativity. 

I say I, yet it isn’t me that saw it through.  Forty-eight people contributed write-ups for the site this year.  About twice that participated with comments.  Scores more were members.  Plus, since this was a members only site, we have no idea how many people read it. I am grateful to everyone who participated.  Thank you.

One of the things that I loved so much about this site is that everyone was so decent.  Nobody talked shit or took anybody down.  I know that shouldn’t seem like a big thing, but I imagine I’m not just speaking for myself when I say that the fact that people refrained from being assholes, hell, were kind, basically encouraged people to take a step to write when they might not have otherwise.  We need more of that.  I’m happy to have been a part of something where people felt free to write what they wanted.

And the music…such good selections, and so varied.  The fact that we got away with this is pretty cool.  Check out the list of artists that were featured:

13 Engines, 22-Pistepirkko, A Tribe Called Quest, Andre 3000, Andrew Bird, Andy Barr, Animal Collective, Arlo Guthrie, Augie March, Basehead, Beck (2x), Ben Folds Five, Ben Harper, Big Star, Billy Bragg, Billy Joel (2x), Bishop Allen, Black Wire, Bob Dylan, Bobbie Gentry, Boris, Brad Melhau, Brother Ali, Buffalo Springfield, Butterfly Joe, Camera Obscura, Carole King, Charles Mingus, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Climax Blues Band, Clipse, Cody Chesnutt, Corky and the Juice Pigs, Cracker, Dan Bern (3x), Daniel Johnston, Dar Williams, Dave Brubeck, David Bowie, De’Briah, Destroyer, Devin the Dude, Digable Planets, Dire Straits (2x), Diverse, DJ Casper, DJ Unk, Don Byron, Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band, Dr. Dre, Dr. Ray Hagins, Dramarama, Duke Ellington, East River Pipe, Eggplant Casino, Electric Light Orchestra, Elliott Smith, Ellis Paul, Elvis Costello, Eminem (2x), Erik Truffaz, Evan Dando, Farmers Market, Fatlip, Feist, Film School, Fleetwood Mac, Frank Black, Frankie Valli, Frederick Knight, General Public, Gillian Welch (2x), Gordon Lightfoot, Gram Parsons, Guggenheim Grotto, Habib Koite, Hank Williams, Hans Zimmer, Happy Mondays, Harry Nilsson, Hayden, Herb Alpert, HEXA, Hot Chip, Human Sexual Response, Ice Cube, Ima Robot, Jack Logan, Jackson Browne, Jairamji, Jamie Lidell, Jay-Z, Jeff Buckley, Jermaine Stewart, Jesus Jones, Jets to Brazil, Jim Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Joe Lovano, John Barry, John Coltrane, John Denver, John Martyn, Johhny Cash, Joni Mitchell, Journey, Junior Murvin, Kate Bush, Kermit the Frog, Kid Koala, King Tubby, Klaus Nomi, Kris Delmhorst, Lansing-Dreiden, Laurie Anderson, LCD Soundsystem, Leadbelly, Lemon Jelly, Leo Sayer, Leonard Cohen, Lindsay Buckingham, Loretta Lynn, Louis Armstrong, Love & Rockets, Love Is All, Low, Lucero, Luther Wright & the Wrongs, Madness, Marilyn Manson, Mark Lanegan, Marshall Crenshaw, Martin Sexton, Marvin Pontiac, Max Roach, Maxine Nightingale, MC 900 Ft. Jesus, Men at Work, Miles Davis, Modest Mouse, Mos Def, My Bloody Valentine, Neutral Milk Hotel (2x), Nicola Conte, Nina Simone, Oasis, Of Montreal, Okkervil River, Old Crow Medicine Show, Olivia Newton-John, Otis Redding, OutKast, Paul Westerberg, Pavement, Pedro the Lion, Peggy Lee, Pele Juju, Persephone’s Bees, Peter Gabriel, Pianosaurus, Pink Martini, Porno for Pyros, Primal Scream, Public Enemy, Queen, R. Kelly, Radiohead (3x), Ray Charles, Ray LaMontagne, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Regina Spektor (2x), REM, Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Rilo Kiley, Roger Williams, Rossini, Ryan Adams, Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband, Sam Beam, Sam Cooke, Scissor Sisters, Seals & Crofts, Sean Lennon, SFJazz Collective, Silver Jews, Simon & Garfunkel, Smoke City, Sparklehorse, Spinal Tap, Spiritualized, Spoon, Steely Dan, Steve Reich, Stevie Wonder, Supertramp, Talking Heads, Tears for Fears, Teenage Fanclub, Television, The Animals, The Arcade Fire, The Beach Boys (2x), The Beatles (3x), The Beta Band, The Breeders, The Butthole Surfers, The Clash, The Cons, The Cure (2x), The Dead Milkmen, The Divine Comedy, The Doves, The Drinks, The Dynamortals, The Faces, The High Dials, The Hold Steady, The Infants, The Jim Carroll Band, The Kinks (2x), The Knife, The Muffs, The National, The Pixies, The Pointer Sisters, The Psychedelic Furs, The Replacements (4x), The Rolling Stones (3x), The Sea and Cake, The Shins (2x), The Skatalites, The Smiths, The Soft Boys (2x), The Stooges, The Suburbs (2x), The Sugarcubes, The Suicide Commandos, The Velvet Underground, The Vince Guaraldi Trio, The Violent Femmes, The Virgins, The Wallets, The Weakerthans, The Wood Brothers, Thievery Corporation, Three Dog Night, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Tom Waits (4x), Too Short, Trio, Tulip Sweet and Her Trail of Tears, UGK, Ugly Casanova, Weezer, Wilco (3x), William Shatner, Wu-Tang Clan, Yaz, and Zhane.

That’s one messed-up mixtape.  By the way, each of you who have contributed will receive one of those.  I’ll be sending an email to you asking for your addresses.  The discs will also include every write-up.

I always envisioned having a party for the people who have participated.  The tracks that we’ve covered would play while we drank and met each other- “Oh, you’re JJ Navarro- you made me laugh so hard milk came out my nose” (seriously, that guy is a funny motherfucker, and I’ve never met him)- and we’d end up, through a series of incidents- I doubt we’d be a well-behaved crew- being 86′ed from six or seven bars in San Francisco.

But there wouldn’t be enough time to listen to all of the songs.  I even thought of a Burning Man “SongOTheDay” camp.

Of course, it is all fantasy.  I know that.  I just like the idea of the community that was built, however slight, through this thing.  I feel like I know some of you that I have never met.  No doubt, if you’ve read this site relatively often, you feel the same about me.  I’ve actually met and become friends with a couple of you, and I’ve gotten to know some of my prior friends even better.

I don’t want to make a roll-call of everyone that has contributed for fear that I would leave somebody out.  Besides, the site is still up.  Just look through it again.

The pleasure has been mine.  So there it is.  Thank you!

…

As for the song to wrap it up, yeah, I picked one that is a little downbeat.  Are you surprised?

I don’t look at it as a downer.  Of course, I like the song, but I actually picked it because I’ve been thinking a lot about Kurt Vonnegut lately.  He passed away this year.  I’m not sure that enough people took notice.  My friends Ricky and Karlene did.  Karlene loaned me one of his later books, Timequake, recently.  It was supposedly a second attempt at a failed novel.  I liked that.  Vonnegut failing- if he can, then I shouldn’t feel so hopeless.  The resulting novel- the second, published, version- was part story of a novel, part novel, and a lot of autobiography.  It struck me that Kurt, who was known by his friends as being somewhat depressive (I believe he labeled his smoking as slow suicide), would have probably liked this song.  Is that all there is?

So it goes.

The premise of the original Timequake was this:

At 2:27pm on February 13th of the year 2001, the Universe suffered a crisis in self-confidence.  Should it go on expanding indefinitely?  What was the point?

That was what was printed on the back of the book.  What happened that February day in 2001 was that the entire planet went back ten years.  Everyone jumped back to where they were and while they were cognizant of reliving everything that happened during the ten years prior, they couldn’t change a thing.  It resulted in people just living their lives again like it was a TV show.  They lost their free will. What happens when free will returns? 

It was the perfect book for me at the perfect time.  Knowing Vonnegut lived and thought the way he did makes me more optimistic.

There is a passage in the book that I am particularily fond of- leading up to it he writes about how he hired a friend of his to help rebuild a part of his house, in particular, the part where he does his writing.  His friend does all of the work on his own and does it well, afterwards:

And then he asked it: “How the hell did I do that?”

That question remains for me in the summer of 1996 one of my three favorite questions.  Two of the three are questions rather than good advice of any kind.  The second is Jesus Christ’s “Who is it they say I am?”

The third is from my son Mark, pediatrician and watercolorist and sax player.  I’ve already quoted him in another book: “We are here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is.”

One might protest, “My dear Dr. Vonnegut, we can’t all be pediatricians.”

And there it is.  One of our greatest American writers, world weary and cynical, still finding room for the sentiment, the truth as he sees it, that maybe the answer to why we are here is to help each other get through it.  Whatever it is.

We made it through 2007.  Thanks for the help.

So long, see you soon.

-shlepcar

 

This is the third Dan Bern song I’ve submitted this year.  I previously posted “In God’s Time” which is comprised of lyrics that I think are the saddest I’ve ever heard.  I also posted “Tiger Woods” in which Bern lamented the depression of a friend of his which occurred because his friend reached his peak too soon by going down on Madonna when he was only 34.  This final submission is my favorite.

This is the first Dan Bern song I ever heard.  The first thing that caught me were the lyrics “When I tell you that I love you/Don’t test my love/Accept my love/Don’t test my love/Because maybe I don’t love you all that much.”

The fact that he delivered those lines from the viewpoint of the Messiah made it all the more sweet. 

I like is so much because while it treads the line of what some would find offensive, he addresses the idea of what it would be like for the savior to show up in todays world.  It has been used in fiction before, and at least for me, it is always entertaining.  If it is acceptable to ask “What Would Jesus Do?”, it is equally okay to wonder what it would be like, if you don’t believe Jesus was the one, what the Messiah would encounter.

I’m not Jewish.  I was baptized Christian and the whole shebang- went to Catholic school, got first Communion, read almost all of the Bible (I started at the end with Revelations, and backtracked so I could argue with the overzealous). 

Truth be told, I loved the line in the Catcher in the Rye-like movie Igby Goes Down, in which the quasi-Holden Caulfield questions an authority at a Catholic school that if Heaven is so great, was dying really such a sacrifice? 

It gets feathers ruffled, to be sure, but it is worth asking.  If Jesus really died for our sins, shouldn’t have he gone to hell?  That is something I could get behind.  His dad calling him up to heaven just doesn’t speak to me.  I mean, it seems similar to a rich kid getting out of being drafted to Vietnam.  No wonder Bush loves Jesus so much.  I don’t think going to hell for a day and getting a pardon is enough.  Sorry.

I’m not a self-described believer, but I’ve done enough Sunday school to feel comfortable enough to argue with anyone who claims God as their own.  I don’t think that anything that has such an impact on all of our lives (politics and war)  should belong to those that claim it the loudest.

So if I offended you because of your beliefs, understand that I’m not trying to, but if I do, then practice what you preach….and forgive me.  I’ll do the same.

I like that Dan Bern is putting his thoughts, tongue-in-cheek as they may be, out there.  I hope you enjoy this song.

-shlepcar

No, I don’t really think that it is.  But I kind of like the sentiment the way the Dead Milkmen put it forth.  They sing it as a celebration.

Now, I know the Milkmen prided themselves on being offensive, so I won’t pretend that my interpretation of their song is a correct one…but I imagine I’m not far off the mark.

It reminds me of Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha, the story of the Buddha.  In particular, it reminds me of when Siddhartha comes upon the river and realizes that life is pain.  The idea being that pain is a foundation, that we shouldn’t have expectations for it to be any more than that, and then to accept it, and build upon it.

I love that thought.  When I first read the book at 23, it was a big weight lifted.  I think we are so conditioned in this day, age, and country to feel as if we aren’t constantly happy, we are somehow a failure.  There is evidence to support this.  Think of all of the anti-depressants, the self-help books, the influx of yoga places on every corner.  We’re searching, and we’re on the right track, yet somehow, to me at least, it seems that we’re still trying to reconcile an American way of thinking with a grasp at a zen feeling.  We’re conflicted.

I wonder if Christmas brings as much depression in other Christian-heavy nations as it does in the U.S.  I doubt it.

I think we bang our heads against the wall a lot more this time of the year because of (yawn) the financial aspect of it.  We do it because more of us are spiritual in the Star Wars “may the force be with you” sense that with any connection to Christianity.  I think part of it is that it has been dark for a few months, but on another level, it is a confrontation with the darkness that comes at the end of another year. 

It is a good time of year to make bad decisions.  Tradition has its place, but it is pretty sentimental.  And sentiment more often than not has led to some bad decisions.

I, for one, am really happy that Christmas is over.  I love my family.  I love my friends.  I love Christmas lights.  And I love the time off.

But I don’t believe in Santa, Jesus has never shown up for his birthday that I’ve ever seen, and I don’t have anything invested in the economy. 

I’m ready for 2008.  And for the days to begin getting longer.

If you got any book gift certificates for Christmas and haven’t read Siddhartha, you should get it.

-shlepcar

Walking through the Mission on Christmas Eve, you notice the homeless more than ever.  The only businesses open are liquor stores, the bars, and a couple of Indian restaurants. 

In the bars, you can see that San Francisco does indeed have a white working class.  Tattoos and Tecates at Delirium.  Football fans at Elixir.  Just a few stragglers smoking out front of Kaboom or whatever the hell the name of that bar across the street is called.  A mix of people that couldn’t afford to go home, didn’t want to go home, or are at home and just needed to get out for a drink to deal with the damn holiday.

The people walking past on the sidewalk all have packages in bags or a bottle of wine under their arms, heading in for the night.

John, the homeless guy, is asleep already in the alcove of the developmentally disabled art studio.

A guy is doing his best to sell cds and books to the procrastinators at the corner of Valencia and 16th.  Nobody is buying.

Clusters of homeless people are standing scattered along the street.  A few wear grungy Santa hats, probably discarded by drunken Santas on the pub crawl last weekend.  There are some smiles.  Nobody seems too down and out.

The hustle is at a minimum. 

The Christmas lights from otherwise darkened businesses illuminate the street.  You sense everyone is thinking of somebody.  You hope it isn’t too long of a night.  That it doesn’t get too cold.

…

Seven years ago on Christmas Eve, I spent the evening in my office on the fourth floor of a building on Sutter Street.  Everyone but three had just been laid off from work.  I went to the window to have a smoke and ended up spending an hour speaking to a hooker named Jessica who stood on the street below in a failed attempt to get some work from the theater crowd.  The fog was softly settling down from Nob Hill.  It made the Christmas lights softer but the mixture of mist made the lights wider too.

She told me about her life before and how she got to where she was now.  She spoke of sending money back to her parents who were taking care of her little boy.  She spoke with optimism, but had the sadness about her you would expect.  It was a sweet conversation.  When enought time had gone by, she asked if I wanted a date.  I respectfully declined.  She said it was a tough night to be a working girl. 

She didn’t act at all perturbed like maybe I had wasted her time.  She enjoyed that hour.  She wished me a Merry Christmas and walked away.  I blew a kiss in her direction.

I hope she’s back in Reno this Christmas.

-shlepcar

 

The Christmas parties are coming to a close.  Next weekend we’ll all be preparing for the family version of a Christmas party.  Drunk Santa Clause’s were all over the city this past weekend…puking and fighting and making nuisances.  People that like to drink, such as your writer, are actually tired of it.  It is coming to a close, with still many days until the actual celebration.  We’ll brace ourselves then for the post holiday hangover.

My girlfriend lives in the Mission.  Next door to her building is an art place that displays the works of developmentally disabled adults.  At night, it is a popular, and beautiful, place for a homeless person to dwell.  I’ve gotten to know a couple of the homeless that have made that storefront his dwelling place in the past year.  Lately, there has been a gray haired man, an old man, who I see laying there.  He stands out because he goes to sleep there as soon as the art place closes.  Tonight I spoke with him.

His name is John.  I was on my way “home” and stopped to have a cigarette.  He woke up and I talked to him.  I had told Renee how I actually want to help him.  He is old, and he has a certain dignity about him.  It isn’t just his beard.  You can see it in his face.

I introduced myself and asked him if he was okay.  He said that he was.  I offered him some money and he took it (something I don’t do often after having worked in community services for so long). 

John then gave me some sheets of paper, each one comprised of old school type, things he had written.  I read the first one, and I was moved.  I offered him a beer, he declined.  I told him my favorite parts of it.  I then read the others.  It felt like Christmas to me.

When I was done reading them, I asked him if I could reprint it on this site.  He said yes.  I asked him what his favorite song was…and he replied: ”I like Christmas songs…and I like that song about ‘we’ve got to move these televisions’”  And this is the song. 

I hope you find something in John’s words that strikes you.  And remember, in the words of Quentin Crisp, that our wealth is our love, and we must give it to the ‘unlovable.’

…

A Christmas Card

More A.P. Poetry Workshop

IF THE SUBJECT

If the subject had managed to reach the press                                                      

& thence the planet  there is no doub it would

of changed the whole world.  Because he was offering

everybody on earth $50 maybe $100k free money

via punch-in the money.  Who couldnt go for that?

Plus maybe buy them all their place to live for free

cutting to 3 or 2 day week– who wouldn’t want THAT?

ONE MAN would have changed the world–

sitting in the back of a coal chute

with his little broken typewriter.

Luckily we were able to bash his head in.

Then he said we ARE our soulds, & this US

is sort of haunting our bodies for the time being,

& when we dream at night, this us- soul dream-self

is walking around in the dream, upright,

at which very moment our BODY is laying there flat

on its side & drooling on the pillow,

thus separation from the body, without any drugs

or practices or instruction, totally automatic

built-in, without even a religion, tho the Xmas songs

are nice.  And ALL THINGS ARE SOULS ALSO INCLUDING

ALL THE CREATURES & BIRDS & INSECTS & HOLY SPIDERS

& FISH & VENEREAL CRABS, INCLUDING THE TREES

& THE WEEDS, & MAYBE THE STONES ARE RADIO BEINGS,

VIBRATING WITH GALACTIC MUSIC OR SOMETHING,

& then he said that WEED is a Being,

& its smoke is HOLY GHOST OR T H E HOLY GHOST

of the scriptures & turns u into a Magic Being.

He wanted children & even police to smoke it on duty,

teachers, press, all offices.  Then he said,

Don’t Breed, end the species, go to heaven,

6-breasted skinny winged wives who never heard of Cozmo,

cook, clean, never get pregnant & buy u a motorcycle,

Why it is…called Heaven.

Replant the Planet for the beloved Creatures our sweeties,

Then he turned into light.

Then he disappeared.

But got nowhere believe u me.

Report filed this day to wit as per Memo 269343.

-shlepcar

Well, that sucked.

You ever gotten an in-school suspension back in high school?  You are “suspended” but have to serve it in some study room in the library.  They bring you your food. You have to suffer through nicotine fits or beg some Copenhagen from the kid that is always serving in-school suspension.  Well, it wasn’t quite like that, but being frozen out of the site sure sucked.

We were a little worried to be honest.  To keep the thing going for a full eleven months only to end up short was probably going to have some psychic repurcussions.  Hopefully, with only two weeks left til the end, we can make it.

Alright, there are only ten more posts coming up.  If you have any desire to do a write-up for the site, please do it as soon as possible. 

I’m going to catch up with all of the ones that have been missed.

Write, ya bastards!

-Shlepcar

 

I can’t believe we almost went a whole year on this site without one Pixies song.

I’ll never forget the first time I heard this album.  It was my first summer after high school and I was living in a cool house in a crappy part of St. Paul.  At that time I was still heavy into the Cure and Bauhaus and Public Image Ltd., that kind of thing.

Then a friend came over with the cd of Surfer Rosa and told me that I was going to really like it.  This song is the first one on the album and we played it very loud.  It was an epiphany.  The tinny agression with sing-song lyrics filled the album.  It would be years until I revisited any music out of England.  The Pixies emerged for me around the same time as The Flaming Lips, Dinosaur Jr., and Sonic Youth.  Oh, and then Ministry went from a synth-pop band to The Land of Rape and Honey.  It was in the air.  Of course, three years later music by and inspired by these bands were practically pop music.  Who’da thunk it?

I bought a copy of the cd myself the day after my friend introduced it to me and it was issued with their first EP, Come On Pilgrim.  Because both the EP and the album were on one disc, they’ve always combined as one album in my mind.  Man, I think I listened to that disc for three weeks straight.

Kurt Cobain was fond of downplaying Nirvana as just a rip-off of the Pixies.  I understood what he meant.  It was like thrashy bubblegum music.

My buddy Slim and I like to argue desert island discs from time-to-time.  When it comes to choosing a Pixies album, it comes down to this album versus the follow-up, Doolittle.  I’ll still go with Doolittle, but this one is my favorite.  Does that make sense?  Slim knows what I mean…he feels the same way.

-shlepcar

I think when this site is over at the end of the year I am going to through some withdrawal.  I think it might be similar to when I worked at a group home for developmentally disabled adults.  Whenever I’d be out in public with them, I always had to have a hyper-awareness of where each of them were.  I had eyes in the back of my head.  For months after I left that job, after having done it for six years, I found it really hard to relax just walking down the street by myself.  I always felt like I somebody might be wandering off. 

The equivalent to that with songotheday will be having to learn to listen to music again without automatically looking for something to say about it for the site.  Even now, knowing that most of the future songs are planned out and I don’t have to think like that anymore, I hear a song and automatically think “Oh, I’ve got to write about that one.”  I hear bumper music on the am sports station and it happens.  I flip the channels and it happens. 

Now I’m getting to the point of remorse.  I keep thinking of all the songs and groups I neglected.  I’m sure that will carry on for a long time.  I start thinking of some of the songs I did put up because something was due and nothing was coming to mind.  I mean, damn, I did write-ups on Oasis, Three Dog Night, and Gordon Lightfoot to name a few, but didn’t do any write-ups for Husker Du, Lifter Puller, or Ween.

I almost neglected Pavement.  Mainly it was because I could never really think of anything to say.  I know that didn’t stop me with a lot of the write-ups I did, but with Pavement all I could think of was that they were a band that people either loved or pretty much hated, and that they are one of those bands that I appreciate more now than when they were around. 

So with nothing much to say about them, I think “Silence Kit” is an appropriate selection.  I love to play this song with the volume way up.

-shlepcar

December 7th marked the three year anniversary of my time at the company I work for.  It isn’t just my anniversary.  I started with seventeen other people back at the end of 2004.  Three years later, there are eight of us left.  Two of them now work in Portland and another in Tulare.  That leaves five of us.  I’m the only one who hasn’t been promoted.

I’m not complaining.  I have pretty much actively avoided any promotion.  I’m not sure why.  I think I dread being quagmired in middle-management. 

It doesn’t matter.  No complaints matter.  I could go on about the minutae of work, and bore you, and me, to tears.

Here’s the thing.  I LOVE having a job.  More specifically, I love having the job I have. 

When I got the job I have now I was so elated.  It was like a big sigh of relief after a tough couple of years.  I was one of the losers of the dot.com era.  I ended up working back in social services for a couple of years, and while it was ultimately rewarding, I can say it was pretty dark.  You know how you are doing something and you realize that it is going to make a better memory than it does an experience?  That was working at Walden House for me. 

I think we’re so conditioned to want more, need more, keep going going going going going.  NEver be satisfied.

Fuck it. 

I’m satisfied.  I dig my job.  Even if I’m not all that great at it.

Too much shame in this society of ours.  If you’re working, carrying your own weight- good job! 

And if you’re tripping too much on your job….call up some old friends, get your illegal grin on Friday or Saturday or both, spend a Sunday regretting, go to work, do your job, and on Monday night watch “Fight Club” again.

Or read some Hunter S. Thompson.

And quit boring yourself.

-shlepcar

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