There are or were rather about 5 people in existence I would have love to sit down and talk to - to try and pick their brain or have them pick mine without complete anhilating my own sense of self preservation. Henry Miller is one of those people. I am young, balding and barely squeeze any artisitc juice out of whatever fruit life gives me but when and if I make it to the ripe old age he did - may I walk whatever city my feet travel through and shake my cane in the faces that pass by with a bunch of shit written down on paper somewhere to help remember me by.
More and more i think of packing up and moving out to the country somewhere. I need a house with a field and an old wooden fence surrounding a plot of land that looks out onto a distant tree line at the edge of a forest or across a little lake full of the clouds at night. Maybe a barn with a mini ramp and a bar in it. Some place my daughter can run around without the city holding her back and explore fields and the woods and grow up knowing what "a little room to breathe" actually means. No I'm not on pot, just looking for some fresh air away from the street lights and city transportation. Somewhere that reminds me home, and maybe a place to call my own. Who knows, something will come along.
ps: The Tallest Man on Earth encompasses that feeling.
The thing with working in a restaurant is you have to stay calm...like really fucking calm. Now if you know me, you know that is virtually impossible. I've been working nights at what can be classified as a "fine dinning" establishment for over 2 years now. At first it was for extra loot to help save for my daughter before and after she was first born while i worked days doing construction and then sitting on my ass for the State. But low and behold the 8 headed serpent God i pray to had another plan and has since left me with just the night gig to get the bills paid and the food on the table. None the less, the job has opened my eyes to the different levels of customer's there are out there, and not even just customers-but people, humans, HOMO sapiens as you might refer to them as. Now, I'm not going to vent all my frustration out and banter the piss out of a topic none (the few) of you want to read about, BUT for my own well being I'll list the following which are in my mind some "rules" you might want to consider the next time you are dinning out.
1. Don't ever say "Oh waiter!" to get your server's attention, the red "this person's a prick" flag will go immediately up and you'll be d-listed even before you get your meal. We have names, learn it. 2. Have an idea of what you want to drink before you sit down. When you stare at the wine list for 3 minutes trying to figure out if you like red or white wine better I'm standing next to you wasting someone elses time waiting for the order. 3. Order what's on the menu. If "Steak Au Pauvre" isn't on the menu-we dont have it and it pisses off the kitchen. The longer you make up some obscure dish in your brain that isnt listed in front of you the longer everyone else at your table will stay not fed. The same goes for drink orders as well, your cosmo-neopolitiny with grapefuit vodka and candy corn rim sucks to make. 4. (Refer to #3) Don't piss off the kitchen. I'm not sure if you have ever gotten a good look at who and what is making your food back there behind those swinging doors. These people are to be feared and respected. Think neck tattoos and a reason to flip the fuck out-not pretty. 5. Remember that one time you and 5 of your friends decided to go "grab a bite to eat" at 7pm on a Friday or Saturday night without making a reservation? Yeah, well it's time to GROW UP. Most of the patrons have called ahead and your large "walk in" party is either going to wait 30-45 minutes or will have to eat some where else. I dont care if your Mayor McCheeseDick's Lawyer-call ahead, we appreciate it more than your tiny brain can fathom. 6.Read the sign on the door-if it says "Open @ 5:30pm" - we open at 5:30pm, NOT 5pm. If you show up early you will be listening to Big Daddy Kane instead of Frank Sinatra. 7. Well done steaks and fish are gross. don't order them. 8. Wait for your server to tell YOU the specials of the evening. RELAX, don't ask about the Pesce or Risotto while your are walking to the table, you will hear about them I promise. 9. If the air conditioner is on it's because its summer time-and your server sweats because he or she is working, you are not. Don't ask to turn it down. Same goes for the winter-it's cold out-enjoy the heat dummy. 10. Finally -Closing time means everyone around you who is working would like to go home or sit down and maybe have a chance to get black out drunk, don't sit at your table after you pay your bill and chit chat about how "Steph" or "Eric" are doing in law school.
-So there you go. If you can handle these little side notes and just enjoy your evening out without pissing off the people who make/prepare/and serve your food and drinks I assure you that your night will go a hell of alot better. This is a job-it's not rocket science, but it's still a job that helps support people's lives and families. I will leave you with an old Cuddlesmarket video to refer to, enjoy and tip well.
Another year of Man Camp has come and gone and once again has lived up to its legacy: White faced Bees, steak, beer, whiskey, friend drama, poison ivy, fishing, ghetto bloody marys, The ROCK, sun burn, rain, tarp city, 14 hours of sleep for Mr. Hulbert, where are the fat chicks?, the devil's lettuce, best smelling shit houses ever, Tom and Even 64', more steak and hamburgers, beer, beer, beer, more whiskey, snack attacks, who brought the pellet gun?, more bees.
Cape Vincent, NY - "Home of the Gamey Black Bass" is where I grew up. My parents bought the house my father's grandfather owned and where he spent summers and part of his high school career around the time I was turning 8yrs old. He fixed up the house which was falling apart when they bought it and turned it back into the home it had been for him as a child. I remember not hating it there growing up, just not really appreciating it. My friends I would kill time in the summer before we were required to get jobs by playing bike tag throughout the neighborhood or jumping off the Ferry boat which goes back and forth between Wolf Island Ontario and my little town. It was either that or find some stupid way to get into trouble without having your parents find out, which in a small town is pretty much not possible. As I got older into middle school I started skating more and more and Vorce ended up moving to Cape when I was in 8th grade which helped because trying to learn new shit alone by watching old 411 videos sucked balls. As we got older we found pretty much everything and anything to skate in town including coming up with some of the some of the stupidest spots-full of tree wallies and side cross walk "gaps." There wasnt much to do at night after we'd all get out of work, so sitting downtown on the bench in front of the Post Office, drinking beers and skating while our local friends compared notes on their car stereos and tried to out do each other with bass listening to Scarface or 36 Chambers. Either that or we'd spend our nights hasseling Vorces mom at Roxy's playing pool and sneaking beers from someones car out front. It was your typical small town-nothing to do bullshit, but it was all we could do. I look back now and wish i paid more attention to what i had in front of me sitting on those docks or driving to Tibetts Point Light House pretending I was a writer-always thinking about leaving and what else was out there. I'm glad the town pushed me out of it but whenever i go back i can't help but feel like i was one of the luckiest people on earth to be able to have spent so many years of my life in such a small but powerful little part of the world. I've got some of the best friends and memories anyone could ever ask because of that town and someday I hope my little girl can say the same. Thanks.
"Society is withering, like the fruit on some diseased vine. We have become the playthings of corporations intent on converting our world into a gargantuan shopping precinct. Pleasantness and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age - an age when men doffed their hats at the ladies, and small children could be counted upon to mind one's Jack Russell while one took a mild and bitter in the local hostelry.
Instead, we live in a world where children are huge, inelegant hooded creatures lurking on street corners; the local hostelry has been taken over by a chain and serves chemically-laced lager which aggravates the nervous system. Needless to say, the Jack Russell is no longer there upon one's return.
The Chap proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. By turning ancient rituals of courtesy and dress into revolutionary acts, the immaculately attired Anarcho-Dandyist can use the razor-sharp crease in his trousers to press home his advantage. Once presented with the dazzling sight of rakishly angled trilbies, gleaming brogues and exquisitely mixed dry martinis, hoi polloi's long-cherished nylon sportswear and strawberry milkshakes will suddenly lose their appeal.
It is time for Chaps and Chapettes from every walk of life to stand up and be counted. Naturally unsuited to all forms of exertion, we propose a Charmed Uprising based on excessive languor and delivering pleasantries such as "How do you do?" and "A very good day to you, madam!" with revolutionary zeal. Our methods will be stealth, civility and charm, our targets the behemoths of corporate blandification. We urge sympathisers to assist our cause by engaging in the following revolutionary acts:
Enter the purveyors of ‘fast food’ and request a table for two with “a pleasant view,” then order a breakfast of devilled kidneys, kedgeree and eggs Benedict.
In a high-street coffee chain which offers tea on its menu, ask for a pot of Lapsang souchong, a cup and saucer and some toast with Gentleman’s Relish.
In the premises of Mr Nike, ask to be measured for a suit by the head cutter.
Enter an ophthalmic optician and ask to see the monocle selection.
Enter an establishment offering “Internet chat rooms” and try to engage someone in conversation.
Offer “gentlemen of the road” (hobos) not money – which they might spend on food – but a nip of cognac from your hip flask."
-I stumbled upon this while reading Omnibus and found it very interesting. Last week i watched the entire second season of Mad Men - which has the visual appeal of what a "Chap" might look like but dives into the core of human nature and the imperfections of whats beneath the surface...but then again, who's to say even a "Chap" isn't perfect. Check out the links below if interested, yesterdays suit and ties could be todays Hot Bod.
THIS IS ONE REAL LOW DOWN REAR WHEEL SPINNING 650CC TRIUMPH TIGER! THIS BIKE STARTED LIFE AS A BORING LOOKING OIL IN FRAME AND WAS COMPLETELY TORN DOWN AND REBUILT FROM GROUND UP, IT HAS THAT REAL DRAG RACING LOOK TO IT AND IT GOES LIKE HELL! THE OIL IN FRAME WAS KEPT FOR IT HAS THE MATCHING NUMBERS TO THE MOTOR, REAR WAS SLAMMED AND TURNED INTO A HARDTAIL,PADDED BOBBER SOLO SEAT FOR COMFORT WITH 4 INCH SPRINGS, FRONTEND WAS LIGHTENED UP THEN TOPPED OFF WITH RUBBER BOOTS FOR A 50'S BOBBER LOOK, SMALL HI/LO 4 1/2" INCH HEADLIGHT,DRAG BARS, BRAND NEW 19" INCH TIRE ON FRONT RIM WITH A DRUM BRAKE FOR MORE STOPPING POWER, BRAND NEW 18" INCH TIRE MOUNTED ON AN 18" INCH CONICAL HUB REAR WHEEL FOR THAT EARLY BOARD TRACKER LOOK, MOUNTED OVER REAR WHEEL IS A STUBBY SHORT FENDER, LUCAS CHOPPER SIDE MOUNT TAILLIGHT, STOCK 4 GALLON GAS TANK AND TRIUMPH EMBLEMS GIVE BIKE THAT RETRO LOOK, MOTOR IS A COMPLETE REBUILD INCLUDING NEW STAINLESS VALVES, ROWE GUIDES, .080 BORE WITH HASTINGS RINGS,PINS, LOCKS, ALL NEW SEALS AND GASKETS, TRANNY GONE THRU WITH NEW SEALS, GASKETS AND ANYTHING THAT NEEDED REPLACING,NEW CLUTCHS, ALUMINUM SIDE COVERS POLISHED, BEST OF ALL IS THE NEW CARBURATOR WHICH IS A CROSS BETWEEN MK2 AMALS AND MIKUNIS, NO MORE TICKLING CARB. WITH GAS DRIBBLING OUT TO PRIME, THIS NEW STYLE CARBURATOR HAS A CHOKE YOU PULL UP ON COLD STARTUPS THEN PUSH DOWN AFTER WARM UP, IT IS EXCELLANT FOR RESPONSIVE PERFORMANCE AND SIMPLICITY! THIS WAS BUILT BY CHOPPERENTERPRISES.COM LEFT FOOT BRAKE IS SIMPLE YET STOPS BIKE ON A DIME, NEW CHROME DRAG PIPES FOR A NICE LOOK BUT KILLER LOUD SOUND AND RUN ON EACH SIDE TRUE TO THAT OLD LIMEY LOOK AND THUMPER SOUND, ELECTRICS ARE ALL NEW AND VERY SIMPLE NO MORE SPAGETTI ALL OVER BIKE! A NEW FINNED SMALL REGULATER WITH BUILT IN CAPACITOR 4 SIMPLE WIRES 2 FOR THE 12 VOLT ALTERNATOR CURRENT, ONE FOR THE GROUND AND THE OTHER RUNS THE POWER,PAINT IS JUST SIMPLE FLAT BLACK FOR LESS TIME WORRYING ABOUT CHIPS AND POLISHING AND MORE TIME RIDING! THE BIKE IS A REAL REAR WHEEL SPINNING WHEEL STANDING MACHINE! YET A SIMPLE AND CLEAN MACHINE.
-so i found this (my dream bike) on ebay tonight, and yes...i came.
i don't mind, Vietnam is doing a reunion show this month some where -prob same weekend as Man Camp, either way, pack your canteens and lets head to the woods.
"The eagle never lost so much time, as when he submitted to learn of the crow." William Blake - Proverbs of Hell
I recently picked up Eagle Twin's (ex Iceburn) newest release on Southern Lord entitled "The unkindness of Crows" and it's chaulk full of poetic influence from Hughes and Upton Sinclair. If you are fond of either writer and also slow ass doom/sludge metal i recomend you give it a listen as well. cheers.
So I decided to start skating again, and as was before in my glory days pulling rocks out one's hands sucks balls. Can't wait for Mabel's mini ramp in the garage for the real pain and old age to finally set in.
Give me women, wine and snuff Until I cry out «hold, enough!» You may do so sans objection Till the day of resurrection; For bless my beard they aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
-John Keats died at the age of 26 in 1821. The worst part is he knew he was going to. But he lived the last years of his life writing, drinking and enjoying the company he kept until he finally collapsed. Guess all you can do is say cheers and be happy with the day you just spent.
Neil Diamond was the first concert my parents ever brought matt and i too when we were about 6 or 7 years old right before moving to NY from the shire. I,m pretty sure i had a good time and most likely tried to sing along to some of his masterpieces, although i don't remember because of the devils lettuce i was smoking at the time and all the mirrors i'd smelled in the parking lot with my family. But you never forget your first.
Dudefest II is right around the bend and this year its going to get even weirder and gnarlier than last - another bachelor to ruin before his wedding, fishing, fire walkers, TT, coors, cBob G's return east, GFBC in the woods, babefamfading out, coors at 7am for breakfast, not sleeping, kill it and grill it, Mallory and Brooke, Daniel Hulbert meets nature, shitting in front of people just because, sunburns/but prob rain, BK dudes blacking out, more coors, the devils lettuce, self portrait tattoos, the Twin Olympics, Seger sessions.
