About me
subject appears to be a white male, early 50's, pathologically tall/skinny. brain patterns show evidence of a life in alcohol - first swimming in it then running from it. fingers show wear from years of guitar playing. heart presents slow repair, through writing, from being broken by rock and roll.
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Six Feet Of Water In The Streets Of Evangeline Part 2: We Should Be Together
If my last post seemed a little vague and disjointed it's only because it was, as I have been feeling vague and disjointed these last 2 weeks myself. Trying to tie the Katrina tragedy to something as frivolous (and glorious, always glorious) as rock and roll seems a little, uh insufficient these days but whatcha gonna do? We all have places and things we turn to for guidance or succor or just blatant escapism. Religion, television, rock and roll - in many ways they're all the same.
I've often considered the whole 'rock scene' pantheon or cast of characters or whatever you want to call those bored kids with guitars that blare from radios something of an extended family. My granfalloon as KV would call it, but recent events have pushed my sickly psyche towards a closer, possibly more true community: that of real people who, much like the rockstar hordes I've (over) concerned myself with for far too many years, don't know me, never will and could care less about my opinions.
Good for them. My opinions are meaningless, but hopefully a little entertaining from time to time, no?
In any event, the evacuee tragedy being played out across America has forced me to get off my self-centered ass and attempt to do something, anything, to somehow make any kind of difference I can. As I mentioned in my last post, there was a town meeting here in Fowler, Colorado (Population 1,200 SA-LUTE!!) Friday night regarding the use of our old elementary school building as temporary housing for victims of Katrina. It was my assumption that the meeting would be a debate as to whether or not the building would be used. As it turned out, the decision had already been made at a previous meeting and this meeting was to let the townfolks know the who, what, where and why of the project and apart from a few questions regarding who had made the decision and who was doing the background checks on the imminent visitors, response was mainly positive. It truly hadn't occured to me that anyone could possibly be against the idea of extending what we could to folks so devastated.
After the meeting, boy, did I get a Civics lesson! I stopped by a friend's house just to say 'hi'. He let me in, I said 'Hey, I just came from that meeting...." and before I could finish the sentence he announced in stentorian tones that he was "completely against the whole thing". I sputtered a weak "Really?" and he proceeded to go on a tirade against Bush and the "Holy Roller Do-Gooder Church expletives" that he was certain were 'behind' this. He went on to complain about the prospect of (and I quote) "Disease riddled criminals" living in the same town as he. He went on to say he was going to empty his garage and have a loaded shotgun at the ready, as he's certain that "these people" (to his "credit" he didn't utter the N word until I prodded him) would be stealing cars and breaking into houses to engage in the traditional flood victim sport of raping women etc. I was stunned. I always knew that my friend was a little crazy (ie: the Holocaust never happened, Hitler and the KKK really had good ideas that have been tainted and distorted by the, as always Jewish media, etc.) but I also thought that our conspiracy theorizing and living room Bush bashing were just psuedo-intellectual exercises and that he, like me, would see the waste of time such speculation was in the face of this new, true disaster.
Boy was I wrong!
He went on to state that my support of this travesty (I donated some towels, a VCR and some shaving cream) marked me as a "dupe of the Christian Right and George Bush!!" Now anyone who's even accidently read anything I've posted here knows the madness in that statement, but the kicker was that since I was supportive of this that I was no longer welcome at his house! He also said that he "won't answer the door when you and your little dog come looking for a gun when this all goes bad" and "Don't piss me off, you don't want to piss me off" when I said that his attitude was stupid. A harsh statement that I quickly modified to 'ignorant' but you know what? It is a stupid attitude. His 'don't piss me off' statement still hasn't registered as the threat it was because I'm still pissed off ('"I'll be scared later, right now I'm too mad!" -Bugs Bunny) at this guy's beyond redneck racist response to people in real need.
And what scares me even further is that this pinhead isn't alone in his thinking. I've overheard much negative conversation at the local cafe's and convenient stores. The N word flying like it's alright and a small, though vocal portion of my town spitting nickels getting mad at people they haven't even met yet. The saddest part was that, in tone and invective, I recognized myself. Hell the 'redneck' reference above marks me as a bigot. I'm working on it, I really am and I guess the lesson I'm learning is when you get off your self centered ass and actually get involved with the world you really do gotta take the good with the bad. Not to pin a medal on my chest here, but I think I'm trying to do the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing. I'm not looking for anything beyond the satisfaction of helping someone else out. It's a new feeling as I've been a taker all my life.
It's like something my good friend and manager Carl Simmons wrote as an addendum to a typically bleak and suicidal lyric I wrote some 25+ years ago. I don't remember what I had written, although I'm sure it was bleak and useless, because the words I DO remember, the words Carl added were these.
"It's not much of a prospect/Finding everything suspect/You need a real calamity to set you straight"
Thanks, Carl. Maybe this is it. I'm not making any of those "I'm never gonna drink again" type promises, but I do think that the next time I feel myself sliding into the 'life is useless' zone, or piss on god and government I'm gonna be able to stop and think it through. A real calamity does tend to alter focus and I'm starting to change what I think is important. Right now, apart from mine and the kids' (And by 'kids' I mean Buster, Bleeker and MacDougal. I remain blissfully childless myself) own survival, I want to help who I can as I can and I want to help prove the pinheads wrong. I hope by welcoming our new friends when they arrive tomorrow, by offering to help them get situated, give them a ride or a couple of days work helping me wrap up these houses I've been painting I might counter balance some of the negativity 'these people' are bound to have inflicted upon them by my ex-friend and people that think like him.
As for my friend, he also stated that he's not gonna buy the house he's living in after all and intends to move away from the 'disease riddled criminals' and the Churches and their ilk ( Which apparently includes me. Stop laughing, Simmons!) who dared to offer outsiders shelter from the storm without consulting him first. Well, as a my first official act as a humanitarian, I'd be only too fucking happy to help him cart his honky ass towards the horizon.
Peace be with you. And, oh yeah, since this is obstensibly a music blog, you gotta love dem Black Eyed Peas, don't cha?
Posted by: timbyrnes at 19:42 |
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