Me and Martha have been parents now for two and half years. We're makin' it I reckon...he's healthy, we can take him out in public, people like bein' around him, he minds well. Well, at least he minds other adults...his "teachers", the lady who watches him at Church and The Sister.
He's constantly pushin' it with us...always schemin' and get's a little lippy sometimes. He's got his Moma's big, beautiful brown eyes and a stubborn streak that's force is as strong as it's origins are mysterious. :cough:
We were told that as parents we'd make mistakes...then we were told again, then again, and again. Got emails and text sayin' you will screw up...received a certified letter saying it's inevitable...some relative or close friend hired a sky writer. It was if we hadn't been raised by parents of our own :) .
I'm sure we're messin' up somewhere...not whippin' him enough I reckon. My Momma expresses regret now about every whoopin' she ever gave me, but the truth is I deserved 'em. I wasn't nearly as bad as The Sister of course, but if there was one or two that I didn't deserve...there was one or two things she didn't know about. It all evens out.
I'm not really thinkin' about parental regrets this morning though...it's too early for that anyway. It'll be years before we know just how badly we've screwed up. I'm thinking of things I should have done differently as a kid.
And not like handing my Daddy an atrocious mid-term report right after the Blues Brothers finished. I thought for sure he'd be in a better mood to take it after laughing for two hours straight...that just...that...that turned out to be a really bad idea.
I'm talking about the things I could've and should've tried to get away with like the all-ages Replacements show in the summer of 88. I was staying with my buddy for a couple of weeks in Tallahassee. We were millin' around pestering college kids in Vinyl Fever like we did most afternoons when we heard the Replacements would be playing that Friday night at the Musical Moon.
We knew we'd have to get permission but like most 15 years olds we never internalized anything...we were gonna be there. His momma was fine with it as long as my parents were. Shockingly the answer was no...they didn't want me getting a head-start hanging out in bars. Crushed...just crushed.
We should've gone...we snuck out of his house all the time anyway. The thing is we didn't ask permission to sneak out...we never had discussed sneaking out of the house so no one had ever specifically said we couldn't...it wasn't a matter of direct defiance you see.
My parents had done a really good in the sense that I hated the idea of disappointing them. The other thing was I just didn't want the hassle of getting in trouble...I'd be on my own soon enough. Plus that little town we lived in at the time was bad enough without being stuck in my room for a month. We went to the movies instead. Faced with a direct "No you may not"...I flinched. I should've run the risk...even if we'd gotten caught I'd have seen The Replacements* and chances are I'd be ungrounded by now.
Funny thing is that same summer or maybe the next...I ended up in a seedy apartment complex inhabited by a punk-rock car thief and the Filipino drug dealers he worked for. I had been give permission to go to the movies with an older associate that must remain nameless and ended up getting to know his friends instead...I actually thought we were going to the movies when we left the house. I hadn't been told I couldn't hang out with car thieves and dope pushers...besides what was I suppose to say when the little dealers walked in carrying Domino's pizza and automatic rifles...."I don't think my momma would want me here"?
Despite the danger and the illicit stench of the affair...I can't say I regret it. The car thief turned out the be the genuine article (to this day he may the only actual punk I ever talked to)...he had a bleached pompadour and his arms were covered in tattoos...this was long before every Sunday School teacher had a sunburst or a lily tattooed on her ankle. The only people I knew who had tattoos were old men like my Grandpa or fishermen. He was from Los Angeles and he'd seen everybody...Minutemen, Black Flag, Husker Du and on. He knew Billy Zoom from X.
Of course when I asked about him some years later I was told he'd been killed by the cops. I wasn't sure how my...associate...had come to know these jokers, but if I had to guess it was probably at an all ages show :).
Anyway...
*I get what comfort I can by reminding myself that by this point Bob Stinson had been kicked out of the band...so it wasn't really the Replacements anyway.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Why does the Sister hate my Blog?
Close readers of the blog will have noticed that The Sister has all but dissapeared from these pages.
On the one hand, it's nice to have a break from being called a donkey or a demon, or an idiot...not have my life threatened.
On the other, she's always maintained that the sucess of this blog depended on her presence and participation. "I'm what the people want," is how she put it.
Whether she's right or wrong...she believes it. So, I can only assume that, at least in her mind, refusing to participate is deliberate attempt of blogocide...she's trying to destroy Flimsy Cups.
Why?...Why?
On the one hand, it's nice to have a break from being called a donkey or a demon, or an idiot...not have my life threatened.
On the other, she's always maintained that the sucess of this blog depended on her presence and participation. "I'm what the people want," is how she put it.
Whether she's right or wrong...she believes it. So, I can only assume that, at least in her mind, refusing to participate is deliberate attempt of blogocide...she's trying to destroy Flimsy Cups.
Why?...Why?
Monday, February 21, 2011
The North...Where We Do What We Want
One of the biggest distractions to my writing this weekend was the Netflix that Martha got me. I probably would have been done on Friday if she hadn't signed me up for it.
Among other things, I watched the Red Riding Trilogy over Saturday and Sunday. It sucked. A lot of it was obvious...
"We can just go luv...we'll go south and never come back. You get yer stuff together while I go across town to get mine and when I come back"...she'll be murdered dead...Duh. Or when the lead investigator is invited down to the basement by his loyal buddy, who seems to be the only other straight cop in Yorkshire...yeah he shot him.
The only likeable character in all three movies was the lawyer Pigot. A drunk slob with a great collection of soul records. He and his Soul Music don't show up til the third film.
The twenty something murders, including children, that occur across the span of 10 years and three moview are slmost an after thought...until the last ten minutes of the third movie. The real villian of the film seems to be The North of England.
Everybody lives in squalor, is a sex-pervert (wierdest moment on film...the medium seduces the cop by describing in hushed tones what the missing girl is going through...say what? ), or retarded, or insane, unless they're an utterly corrupt and vile business man who uses the sadistic, racist police force as his own personal army. Thier motto..."To the North. Where We do What We Want!" And what they want to do is break people's hands.
The Yorkshire Ripper, once they catch him...seems almost sympathetic by comparison. The other murderer is a priest of some kind...wears a collar but nobody knows for what church (he's the kid killer...of course...more points for orginality). It's not like he did anything priestly either...he just wore a collar.
I don't know...the fella that wrote the books is from West Yorkshire. Of course some of the worst crap you'll read about The South comes from our own neighbors*...see the aforementioned Donna Ladd, but even she doesn't deny the music, the food and SEC Football. Maybe I'm readin' it wrong...I do live half way round the world. It still sucked either way.
*Be on the lookout for The Help. I've already read a couple of reviews on the blogs that report this book gives a real glimpse into race and class relations in The South and especially Mississippi...uh huh, or maybe it's a glimpse into the mind of warped woman that will lie and trample those close to her in order to tell people what they want to hear and make a buck.
Among other things, I watched the Red Riding Trilogy over Saturday and Sunday. It sucked. A lot of it was obvious...
"We can just go luv...we'll go south and never come back. You get yer stuff together while I go across town to get mine and when I come back"...she'll be murdered dead...Duh. Or when the lead investigator is invited down to the basement by his loyal buddy, who seems to be the only other straight cop in Yorkshire...yeah he shot him.
The only likeable character in all three movies was the lawyer Pigot. A drunk slob with a great collection of soul records. He and his Soul Music don't show up til the third film.
The twenty something murders, including children, that occur across the span of 10 years and three moview are slmost an after thought...until the last ten minutes of the third movie. The real villian of the film seems to be The North of England.
Everybody lives in squalor, is a sex-pervert (wierdest moment on film...the medium seduces the cop by describing in hushed tones what the missing girl is going through...say what? ), or retarded, or insane, unless they're an utterly corrupt and vile business man who uses the sadistic, racist police force as his own personal army. Thier motto..."To the North. Where We do What We Want!" And what they want to do is break people's hands.
The Yorkshire Ripper, once they catch him...seems almost sympathetic by comparison. The other murderer is a priest of some kind...wears a collar but nobody knows for what church (he's the kid killer...of course...more points for orginality). It's not like he did anything priestly either...he just wore a collar.
I don't know...the fella that wrote the books is from West Yorkshire. Of course some of the worst crap you'll read about The South comes from our own neighbors*...see the aforementioned Donna Ladd, but even she doesn't deny the music, the food and SEC Football. Maybe I'm readin' it wrong...I do live half way round the world. It still sucked either way.
*Be on the lookout for The Help. I've already read a couple of reviews on the blogs that report this book gives a real glimpse into race and class relations in The South and especially Mississippi...uh huh, or maybe it's a glimpse into the mind of warped woman that will lie and trample those close to her in order to tell people what they want to hear and make a buck.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Act Like a Man: A Digression
A stout middle-aged fella has sat down at the table next to me and picked up his cell phone. He has a booming voice.
"Can you loan me tweny dollas. I'll pay you back on Monday?"
Listening
"On Monday...Monday I get my unemployment check."
Listening
"Well I made twenty dollars holding the sign yesterday and I'll make another twenty today and then Monday I get my unemployment check."
Listening
"Yeah between that and my unemployment check I should be able to make it next week."
Listening
"No. I am not going to give any of my money to no woman."
Listening
"It was a fella wanted to hire me to work for ten dollars an hour paintin' some apartments, but it's up in Canton."
Listening
"Yeah it's up in Canton, but I ain't got no car."
Listening
"So what about that twenty?"
Let's review...he's sat down and announced for all to hear that a) he needs to borrow money, b) he's on unemployment, c) he could be working but the job is in Canton (Canton's nine miles from here. No further than from here to West Jackson where he claims to live).
If you're in a tight brother...fine. It happens, but dignity is free.
First of all, handle your business in private. Secondly, get off your a** and find a way to Canton. Have some respect for yourself.
(Nevermind those that may be paying for your coffee and cell phone bill).
"Can you loan me tweny dollas. I'll pay you back on Monday?"
Listening
"On Monday...Monday I get my unemployment check."
Listening
"Well I made twenty dollars holding the sign yesterday and I'll make another twenty today and then Monday I get my unemployment check."
Listening
"Yeah between that and my unemployment check I should be able to make it next week."
Listening
"No. I am not going to give any of my money to no woman."
Listening
"It was a fella wanted to hire me to work for ten dollars an hour paintin' some apartments, but it's up in Canton."
Listening
"Yeah it's up in Canton, but I ain't got no car."
Listening
"So what about that twenty?"
Let's review...he's sat down and announced for all to hear that a) he needs to borrow money, b) he's on unemployment, c) he could be working but the job is in Canton (Canton's nine miles from here. No further than from here to West Jackson where he claims to live).
If you're in a tight brother...fine. It happens, but dignity is free.
First of all, handle your business in private. Secondly, get off your a** and find a way to Canton. Have some respect for yourself.
(Nevermind those that may be paying for your coffee and cell phone bill).
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Word Count
5:53pm Central Standard Time (zone 6 Zulu)
23
Approx. 1175 to go.
6:11pm CST (z6)
0
6:18pm CST (z6)
32
Update: Just got a 24 hour extension from the editor...who laughed at me.
6:34pm CST (z6)
67
7:05pm CST (z6)
67
Time to go home.
11:26pm (z6)
67
Friday, Feb. 18
3:34pm (z6)
116
6:42pm (z6)
139
6:54pm (z6)
229
7:02pm (z6)
288
Cutest sentence yet...the vomit inducing "That's why they call them farm teams."
7:18pm (z6)
414
Segues...I got yer segue
7:40pm (z6)
583 Clowns!
Halfway there...and that includes a smoke break.
7:49p (z6)
715
I am a maniac...it's like I'm in a trance.
8:13pm (z6)
774
Now that the coffee-jerks (they aren't jerks but coffee-jerk sounds better than barista) know I'm being paid enormous sums of money to write they're trying to distract me by talking about records...pure avarice.
Feb. 19
8:50am (z6)
664
Yep...I shut the computer down last night without saving the last couple of paragraphs.
11:09
830
No trance-like state this morning...a slog.
11:40am (z6)
916
About 150 more teeth to pull.
11:58
933
How am I supposed to focus when there are so many TI and Jay Z videos on the youtube?
5:49pm (z6)
1,043
Obviously I am not just turning in a certain number of words...it actually has to be writing and a lucid story...in fact it's required. So, now I'm patchin' it together...smoothing it out.
Feb. 20
9:22am (z6)
1,101
Don't tell me you didn't see it coming...another extension. It only needs a proof-read.
Done yesterday before noon...like I said, less than 24 hours late. Soft.
23
Approx. 1175 to go.
6:11pm CST (z6)
0
6:18pm CST (z6)
32
Update: Just got a 24 hour extension from the editor...who laughed at me.
6:34pm CST (z6)
67
7:05pm CST (z6)
67
Time to go home.
11:26pm (z6)
67
Friday, Feb. 18
3:34pm (z6)
116
6:42pm (z6)
139
6:54pm (z6)
229
7:02pm (z6)
288
Cutest sentence yet...the vomit inducing "That's why they call them farm teams."
7:18pm (z6)
414
Segues...I got yer segue
7:40pm (z6)
583 Clowns!
Halfway there...and that includes a smoke break.
7:49p (z6)
715
I am a maniac...it's like I'm in a trance.
8:13pm (z6)
774
Now that the coffee-jerks (they aren't jerks but coffee-jerk sounds better than barista) know I'm being paid enormous sums of money to write they're trying to distract me by talking about records...pure avarice.
Feb. 19
8:50am (z6)
664
Yep...I shut the computer down last night without saving the last couple of paragraphs.
11:09
830
No trance-like state this morning...a slog.
11:40am (z6)
916
About 150 more teeth to pull.
11:58
933
How am I supposed to focus when there are so many TI and Jay Z videos on the youtube?
5:49pm (z6)
1,043
Obviously I am not just turning in a certain number of words...it actually has to be writing and a lucid story...in fact it's required. So, now I'm patchin' it together...smoothing it out.
Feb. 20
9:22am (z6)
1,101
Don't tell me you didn't see it coming...another extension. It only needs a proof-read.
Done yesterday before noon...like I said, less than 24 hours late. Soft.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Writing
I'm on the clock for an article this weekend. I write for a sports magazine that's published here in Mississippi. It's due Friday.
Of course, I've had it on my plate for over a month, but...get real.
I'm starting in earnest tonight...which means staring at my interview notes, googling, doodling, writing a sentence that gets scratched out as soon as it's punctuated, the pencil never leaving the page.
Frustration. I have no idea what to write...it seems like I asked the dumbest questions, got no answers, don't know where to start...have no plan.
Then I remember it's just part of the process. I have to go through this stage..that these hours I'll waste scribbling cityscapes on a legal pad are as good as a couple of paragraphs.
Somewhere in the unreachable, lesser-caffeinated regions of my grey matter a story is coming together. It's like my mind is distracting itself so it doesn't get in the way of my brain.
Tomorrow we'll be counting words.
Of course, I've had it on my plate for over a month, but...get real.
I'm starting in earnest tonight...which means staring at my interview notes, googling, doodling, writing a sentence that gets scratched out as soon as it's punctuated, the pencil never leaving the page.
Frustration. I have no idea what to write...it seems like I asked the dumbest questions, got no answers, don't know where to start...have no plan.
Then I remember it's just part of the process. I have to go through this stage..that these hours I'll waste scribbling cityscapes on a legal pad are as good as a couple of paragraphs.
Somewhere in the unreachable, lesser-caffeinated regions of my grey matter a story is coming together. It's like my mind is distracting itself so it doesn't get in the way of my brain.
Tomorrow we'll be counting words.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Eraser
Ladies and Gentlemen I present for your consideration Reggie Nelson, The Eraser.
Y'all know I don't need much of an excuse (read any) to start posting Gator and SEC football clips, but this particular post is thanks to Natetin. He mentioned sports drinks.
What? You don't see the necessity of that leading to football clips?
Truth is it takes an effort every day not to post SEC football clips...besides this one's got LL Cool J.
Y'all know I don't need much of an excuse (read any) to start posting Gator and SEC football clips, but this particular post is thanks to Natetin. He mentioned sports drinks.
What? You don't see the necessity of that leading to football clips?
Truth is it takes an effort every day not to post SEC football clips...besides this one's got LL Cool J.
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