My first ex-Armadillo

My first ex-Armadillo
Originally uploaded by Gary Miles.

This and more exciting images can be seen by following the not-dancing 'Dillo over to flickr. Made a little set there for your post-mortal enjoyment.

Now its Florida!?!!

Y'know I've never been on tour, never away from home more than 2 weeks at a time, albeit by proxy, I'm coming close. Certainly I've never approached Florida from the west, flying over Sarasota, what the hell is all that...marshy plains?....squares of uncluttered green stretching out for miles? Could somebody tell me cuz I'd really like......to know. Sometime during this flight it was ascertained that a quantity of rattan furniture is not a rarified gift worthy of renting a truck to it's donation recipients way up north. I'm sure it's an all-weather material, but hardly Gortex.
This furniture and other goods were salvaged from my life-granter's Dania Beach home shortly after ((WILLLL-MAAAAA!!)). Alas, I want to be helpful...I need to feel helpful....or just to say I'm willing but...I gots to get paid.... I get neither!
The TVs are here, Nana's piano is here, slightly damaged but playable, the kayak is here.,where am I? Oh yes,her boyfriends apartment. See, they're both dealing with losing their previous spouse, and are just glad to happy together. Is it possible? Well, with a view like this (11th floor, the Atlantic 2 blocks away, water on 3 sides, views of damaged roofs, windsurfers, geckos and tangled trees. It's OK I guess. And I partook of my 3rd Thanksgiving meal, 2 of which were buffet style.
What a year it's been. Different alright, wish I had a W-2 coming to reflect upon.
Any employers reading this? See, I'm an honest guy, really. And interesting. Sure you can get a Mexican to work for less (3 years, 1 off, another 3?) but how many that have such a good blog. I'm the man, eh? eh? hmm?
I'm taking Indy tonight 38-20. Sorry Steeler fans.

Texas revisited

Regaleth, thee, whoa...
Ooops, Texans don't talk like that, must be that I'm sitting here with julie watching Shakespeare in Love. My lord, do you want the 74/26 large beef log or do you desire something more lean, purchased from the HEB (pronouced Heeb!) according to my doctrine. So, anyway, we have pics from Houston, fascinated by Halliburton Plaza at Minute Maid park, can you see FUCKHEAD LIAR scrawled over the face of Chaney which lies amongst many more untouched historical pillars? This plaza is by the entrances, concievably reachable via long homer over the Crawford boxes (this being running along Crawford street, ah, yes.
So, now we are at the White Rose B & B in Waco, dining in tonight. I was here all day, exploring the nearby ranch, and funky shacks as I have juxtaposed. Dick would fancy a but of torture I'd imagine in one of these abodes I'd imagine. Make one of those anti-war Democratic liberal extremists sweat and waffle their statements. Darth Vader is alive and running the Evil Empire out of the White House, alright.

H-Town Concrete

To Dave and Erik and Brad (wherever you are)
I have seen Houston, Texas, and it is a more magnificent concrete jungle than I had expected. Although the seamy side looks as old-west as you can imagine in this industrial age, the food at Ninfas made it seem like a friendly oasis nonetheless.
There is strangely little foot traffic in town, most of the cars are stuck on the highways around the city's brassly buckled belt. Me and J are of course in a stylishly bleak hotel downtown, near Minute Maid park. All is well. Heading to Waco today for a very special Larry, I mean a very special Punky Brewster, I mean a very special holiday special with the press corps and tales that will warm your heart. You'll be reading all about it in the coming months. All of your complaining and heartbreak about our presence in Iraq and all of your loved ones who won't be coming home for the holidays. Unless you're of one of those families that are so historically linked to our country's fine tradition of warfare (every 7 years by average), look back on the efforts of your protests this past year and what do you have. No present under your tree. Your Santa, Senator Murtha has had his sled tires slashed and you get to cheer a phony election. Nobody's coming home, thank you W. I'd love to thank you in person I just might stop by and jam with your neighbors, really loud. We shall overcome!

Feelin' Cro-Mag

Remember when your young pititul life and style were defined by a musical group, a band if you will?
In 1986 I was young and foolish, still relatively undamaged by years of mediocrity. all was rather fun and humorous. That year marked the release of Age of Quarrel, the LP version of the Cro-Mags previously released demo. Not only did they symbolise the machismo and uber-urban reality of the still-tough NYC streets, thank you Mayor Koch, but their handle, in the mind of the impressionaly sponge-like minds of me and pal Morgan, opened up a whole new vocabulary. A nonsensical compendium of cro-mag phrases ensued to crack us up for a couple of years and spawned our first joke band, Clan of Wurpies. Masters of improvised 5 second songs, we found brilliance in our stupidity. But life goes on and for at least one of us an identity needs redefinement. So why am I listening to the Cro-Mags again? Well they sound really good. Nice trotting mid-tempo thrash beats from Mackie and garbled protestations alternating with the signature low falsettos of John "Bloodclot" Joseph. The guitars are typical 80s. Seeing the photo I remember how Parris Mayhew stood out, with his 80s hair, BC Rich Bich and lack of stage presence. Kudos it seems to Harley Flanagan for keeping the web site going with lots of pictures and that you can download Age of Quarrel for free. But it seems that the post-Quarrel Cro Mags were his struggle for years, and keeping his rep intact. It's better to be on top once than never at all. Good luck, HF. Now if I can only find out whatever happened to Straight Ahead/ NYC Mayhem and to Tommy and Craig Setari, one of my only good friends from high school.
I mutter and muddle on in this interim, can I get a job, people? Xmas is coming up and I don't want to be a CRO MAG no more!

Grrrr!!! (ouchy)

Okay I haven't blogged much. I have been sort of busy. Doing what, where, with? Let's just say it's hell. I've been looking for a job so long it's like I'm chasing my own forked tail. You know what hell is? You find a job description you like online. To apply for it you have to register with the search engine and "customize" your resume on that, instead of uploading one you've already prepared. Then once you've done that, they link you to the company website, which you must REGISTER for, then CUSTOMIZE your resume AGAIN instead of uploading the one you've already painstakingly prepared. So...how's progress? Well, don't ask.

The positive aspects of the why bother ethos.

I still don't understand how looking for a job can possibly be a full time job. I understand that there are perhaps hundreds(??) of government buildings in DC. But if you don't have those little credentials on a lanyard hanging on you, you can't get past the lobby of any of them. I don't blame them, what with all the wackos on the street here. I might be slightly more respectable looking but it doesn't quite come off as very hospitable. This is in no direct criticism of the place I applied at today. This one had a very nice lobby with photos of the radio personalities I could peruse,lovingly.

All in all, it was a pleasant day. Thinking optimistically, I walked around Gallery Place envisioning where I might regularly go to lunch, although that's assuming alot. It ain't a desk job I applied for, although i do DO desks. Clean and dust them that is.
After this perusement I began to feel rather chafed and I chastised myself for my self destructive act of man-scaping.

And so concludes the most boring of posts from a most bored of pseudo-uber-semi-professionals.
Enjoy the photo.

Pitt, Pith and Liver damage

What price fun? A cathartic whoop amongst a charged bar of Steeler fans, the thrill was all too brief. The aftermath...queasy.
So, Halloween 2005 plays like so.
70-ish degree weather, nice. Girl with black bunny ears in park, drinking and smoking. Kramerbooks crowded and confusing. Walked downtown, returned library books. Sat reading the 911 graphic novel collection. Gay black guy in Vote For Pedro shirt animatedly playing with Sony PSP. Extended arguement with security guard before allowing himself to be evicted for excess noise and wussy defiance. Browsing Border Books, read Guitar mag, watched smelly old guy with empty milk bottle (cheap scotch?) rearrange mags seemingly at random, except for prominently displaying portrait of Farrakhan. No security intervention.

After all this time-killing bravado I put in a call to Julie wondering when to meet for our cocktail summit with White House friends and colleagues. Read AP-Nedra, NPR-David, ?(sorry)?-Holly, Julie-The Chron. The cozy and enclavious Hay-Adams Hotel bar, with it's fine whiskey sours and I pounded and enviously so Cosmos were ditched for sours. Recounted, talks of outings, Catholic Schoolgirl outfits, and campaign tales of yore to which my priviledged ears absorbed.

Are you still with me? First blog post in 2 weeks! Skippy!

Off we men go, me and #36 to the POUR bar on TH' HILL. Standard stuff, proofed, noisemakers, top volume, 15 tellys. Why is it that Figure Skating is always on opposite the football, day or night, I guess programmers are keeping the ladies in mind. Well, there weren't many ladies in this house except for la Rose, DG's paramour. Fine stock.
For a few hours I truly watched football. My genteel contemplative hours of amusement and herbal teas simply do not compare with the blurring experience of being around fun crazy people, on Halloween no less. The bonhomie flowed like fountains of light beer, the nachos transmogrified into something truly insidious. And in a rare instance it was a very tight game. The Baltimore Ravens, 14 point underdogs played well despite injuries and rumors of dogging it. The Steelers perhaps played down to the competition, but had the crowd and the clock in their favor, a winning FG drive and a defensive stop secured the game.
Now given these proclamations once might think I had a religious experience or something and am about to jump on the Pittsburgh bandwageon. I am aware of certain rules of geographical and historical loyalty, but I despise the bullshit that pro athletes get into. Jawjacking, DWI, spouse beating bigamists are tough to root for. Oh, the Pats, Steelers and Giants are so team-oriented family-owned and friendly entities of th' league, but I'm not buying it. At least these teams are more likeable than the former Cleveland Browns..i.e. scabby Ravens with their troubled Lewises of lore. Nevermore, and off another shore, some rented whores: the Minnesota Vikings sure have some big problems as well, it's a tough year to be purple.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2005/football/nfl/10/31/bc.fbp.lgns.vikingsculpepper.r/index.html

After sharing a cab back, I think it took me 90 minutes to make it from the living room to the bed. Not sure what I was doing at all, but catatonia led to nausea and I only just now at 4:07 feel up for some higher motor functions thanks to the wonders of broth. I swear I was lying in bed feeling my shrunken liver flopping around in some gap inside. I must relearn how to drink properly.