it's days like these...
[ posted by mcdeviltoast ]
...that make me loathe Ohio. Grey, damp, overcast, cold; a day that gets its needles into you upon waking ("Fuck, not THIS kind of day") and via those needles, drains all joy, passion, and ambition away. Today was supposed to be a whimsical romp in the country, selecting pumpkins for carving, sipping cider, taking pictures, etc. Ohio slammed its shit-weather gavel down hard last night. "Nay! I veto your merriment! Plans, shmans. Wake to THIS, bitches!" Gross.
You have to keep moving in order to evade the personal soul-sucking tornado; issued to everyone inside the 275 loop like an unwanted subscription. But it's hard to keep moving when you're indoors trying to hide from the hideousness of the day. Every activity seems dull and desolate, done with passionless precision (wringing out a teabag with its own string, autographing your sandwich in cursive mustard). I wonder what the suicide rate is is Cincinnati. How many people have looked up and decided the blank overcast canvas above would improve with a Pollock-splash of wrist-blood?
It's especially frustrating to know that some parts of the world are still sunny. There is some asshole in a hammock right now sipping a mai-tai, reading a book in the sunshine and though he doesn't know me, is laughing at me. I know. I had those moments in China. Mid-November, I was still teaching in Hawaiian shirts, blazed on Tsingtao by evening and laughing at everyone suffering back in Ohio. It felt good to be that asshole. Now I'm the whiny asshole, elbow-to-elbow with the pasty hordes in the happiness deli, waiting for my number to be called.
When the weather turns, I get the bends. And the cold seems to get into my skeleton. My bones creak and ache like a poorly assembled carnie ride. My ribcage feels collapsed, my knees untightened, neck in need of grease. I'm getting older and I feel like a plant in need of water. I wonder if I'll feel like that from now on, if this is the feeling of aging? Progressively getting shriveled, withered, pale fronds, neglected on some window sill, cold even in the sun, shrinking away....
I got my hair cut yesterday. "Just a trim" we say, and then it always turns out shorter than we had planned. My hair is not thinning, it's migrating. What was once on my head is currently homesteading on shoulders, sharecropping on arms. I wish I could round all carpetbaggers up, place them back on the reservation of my scalp. My fear is of people thinking I don't know it's happening. I know it's going on, but I don't have the mirror capability to track its progression. Anything resembling comb-over trickery is purely coincidental. I'll buzz it again when the weather improves, which will be in about eight months.And should it get to the awful-pathetic point, I'll Bic it, although it'll mean less high-fives between me and Steve. Baldness and high-fives can be misinterpreted.
I will soon be acquiring an electric scooter from Jenn's parents. It's Hot Wheels blue with some hatin'it flame stickers on it, which I will soon bedeck with band stickers and such. Huzzah for environmentally-friendly transportation! Hopefuly it will have the gumption to tackle Clifton's hills.
My next "Soul in the Shade" show is on November 4th at Sudsy's. I have done an arrangement of Offspring's "Self Esteem" for the occasion. I've always enjoyed the words and melody of the song, but I think the loudness and whiny-scream vox killed the poignancy. I've reinterpreted it gentle and melodic, kinda like "Mad World" from Donnie Darko, and it works really well. I can't wait to play it live. That thought is a ray of Vitamin D on this dreary afternoon.
You have to keep moving in order to evade the personal soul-sucking tornado; issued to everyone inside the 275 loop like an unwanted subscription. But it's hard to keep moving when you're indoors trying to hide from the hideousness of the day. Every activity seems dull and desolate, done with passionless precision (wringing out a teabag with its own string, autographing your sandwich in cursive mustard). I wonder what the suicide rate is is Cincinnati. How many people have looked up and decided the blank overcast canvas above would improve with a Pollock-splash of wrist-blood?
It's especially frustrating to know that some parts of the world are still sunny. There is some asshole in a hammock right now sipping a mai-tai, reading a book in the sunshine and though he doesn't know me, is laughing at me. I know. I had those moments in China. Mid-November, I was still teaching in Hawaiian shirts, blazed on Tsingtao by evening and laughing at everyone suffering back in Ohio. It felt good to be that asshole. Now I'm the whiny asshole, elbow-to-elbow with the pasty hordes in the happiness deli, waiting for my number to be called.
When the weather turns, I get the bends. And the cold seems to get into my skeleton. My bones creak and ache like a poorly assembled carnie ride. My ribcage feels collapsed, my knees untightened, neck in need of grease. I'm getting older and I feel like a plant in need of water. I wonder if I'll feel like that from now on, if this is the feeling of aging? Progressively getting shriveled, withered, pale fronds, neglected on some window sill, cold even in the sun, shrinking away....
I got my hair cut yesterday. "Just a trim" we say, and then it always turns out shorter than we had planned. My hair is not thinning, it's migrating. What was once on my head is currently homesteading on shoulders, sharecropping on arms. I wish I could round all carpetbaggers up, place them back on the reservation of my scalp. My fear is of people thinking I don't know it's happening. I know it's going on, but I don't have the mirror capability to track its progression. Anything resembling comb-over trickery is purely coincidental. I'll buzz it again when the weather improves, which will be in about eight months.And should it get to the awful-pathetic point, I'll Bic it, although it'll mean less high-fives between me and Steve. Baldness and high-fives can be misinterpreted.
I will soon be acquiring an electric scooter from Jenn's parents. It's Hot Wheels blue with some hatin'it flame stickers on it, which I will soon bedeck with band stickers and such. Huzzah for environmentally-friendly transportation! Hopefuly it will have the gumption to tackle Clifton's hills.
My next "Soul in the Shade" show is on November 4th at Sudsy's. I have done an arrangement of Offspring's "Self Esteem" for the occasion. I've always enjoyed the words and melody of the song, but I think the loudness and whiny-scream vox killed the poignancy. I've reinterpreted it gentle and melodic, kinda like "Mad World" from Donnie Darko, and it works really well. I can't wait to play it live. That thought is a ray of Vitamin D on this dreary afternoon.
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[ posted by mcdeviltoast @ 10/21/2005 02:26:00 PM ]
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The dumbtronica act Montana & McDeviltoast, along with their friends, keep each other updated on their activities. Much fun having by all, and Pockys fear for their lives!