Hookers or Cake

I was drunk because I’d broken a tooth and didn’t go to the dentist.

Its a crippling pain that shoots from my ringing ears, through my face, and throbs into the base of my neck. I finally broke down and had a pain killer. That didn’t do much so I poured a couple of whiskeys on top. Ahhhh, the warm relief of a manageable dull pain.

 I was listening to an old CD of The Frogs that Jesse had given me. How can I explain The Frogs if you haven’t heard em? Well, imagine some of your weirder, drunken friends got especially high and recorded a made up album from the point of view of a drunk old pedophile serial killer. Its horribly offensive, absurd, and pretty funny.

So I was loaded, listening to The Frogs, and laughing. But then I would see and hear my best friend Jesse, who died last year, laughing and then I would start crying. Of course The Frogs were still playing and I’d realize that I was sobbing while some song about goat fucking was playing. Then I’d laugh even harder about the absurdity of it all; the laughing and crying, the mysterious beauty of everything. Death and humor all mixed up with the people that you love. The people that you love, disappearing forever.

  My wife walked in on me and I laughed and cried a bit more in my explanation. I told her how all my thoughts and emotions were colliding…  the entire spectrum of emotion happening all at once. She smiled knowingly.

 “Thats exactly what its like being a women,” she said. And I laughed…

“24 hours a day,” she cried.

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Favorite Springsteen song #413

Dancing in the Dark

The song starts like most songs do. As an invitation for lonely resentful hate sex with a stranger. And while this mating ritual has long been popular in post agrarian societies, Springsteen finds himself peculiarly transformed when confronted by the realization that we are all alone in a cold and indifferent universe.

His transformation gives birth to the idea that, Hey! While we’re stuck in this lonely dead embrace, maybe we just take a chance on love. I mean lets gas up the car and drive around the countryside eating bad food and listening to the radio. Sure, we’ll both be devoured by the darkness in the end, but maybe if you just sit next to me in this unsafe street rod for a little while we’ll at the very least have the memory of this one moment of love and freedom to guide us, while we spend the rest of our lives punching a clock in a bottomless cave of ignorance.

No wonder that Rolling Stone readers voted it the ‘song of the year’ in 1985. 

hookersorcake:

Will Oldham is playing a free show at Radio-Active Records in Fort Lauderdale, FL today. Sure it may be a sting operation by the feds, but I’ll take my chances.  The last time I saw Will he inspired the following short story. EDIT: Great Show last night! He’s playing Miami Sweat records (by Churchills) tonight.

Mr. Chief Billy

 Who’s The Boss was playing on the TV. I wasn’t really paying much attention. It was the episode where Tony and Angela have a couple of drinks and end up kissing. They’re laughing, running around the kitchen throwing flour, and chasing each other. Suddenly, they end up in each other’s arms and they passionately kiss. The studio audience goes wild, and I shake my head and go back to something I’m reading on my laptop. I glance up from my laptop because the TV has gone totally silent. I see Tony and Angela both looking directly into the camera as it zooms in tight on their faces. They begin to chant something repetitive that I don’t quite understand, and then it becomes clearer.

 “Mr. Chief Billy, Mr. Chief Billy, Mr. Chief Billy…”

 The TV screen flickers, and I see an old black-and-white image of an old man with a mustache. I stare at it closely as it seems to be moving slightly. Like someone has paused the tape and is forwarding it one frame at a time. I glance around the room, and when I look back, I notice the mans eyes are becoming large and soft, almost like a gentle, sad monster of sorts. He smiles and says lovingly,

“My dear, everyone cares… but nobody knows.”

And it’s strange because I am overwhelmed with these feelings of peace and joy. I almost feel as if this man is God or something. Then part of the man’s mustache begins to vibrate and move. It morphs into a large, colorful butterfly that seems to flutter right out of the TV screen. Slowly, the butterfly flickers and floats toward me, turning into a kind of rainbow-colored liquid that then swims into my mouth. I don’t panic because the whole time I feel as if I am being filled with this warm, healing light. It’s like I am being filled with love. I blink, and now I’m inside of the TV looking out, looking out at all the families who are gathered in their various living rooms watching TV. I am looking out at all the little kids, moms, dads, and elderly couples. I feel such intense love for them all now. I see the old man again and now he’s sitting in a room all alone. He’s looking at me, and his face begins to decompose as he whispers.

“There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

I blink my eyes again and I’m back sitting on my couch. The TV screen is silent and blank except for the message:

 To be continued… 

School was starting next week and I needed that KISS Gene Simmons notebook. But my mom wouldn’t buy it for me. She told me KISS worshiped Satan. Like most 7 year olds I was unsure what a Satanist was, I just thought KISS looked cool as hell.

The problem now was all my friends were getting KISS posters, t-shirts and I had nothing. I’d even outgrown my Spiderman shoes. I was pretty bummed. I remember going over to my Grandma’s house and my uncle Marty had a ton of KISS stuff. I’d never heard their music, so he played me some… I was baffled. They looked like demons but they sounded just like everyone else. They were just a boy band dressed up like monsters. I lost all interest. 

I wonder if right now there’s a 7 yr old girl having the same experience with Lady Gaga?