this week in dreams

A few of this week's found eyehooks on I've had dreams like that:

broke as no joke

This is sort of riffing on yesterday's blog, and thoughts about what is worth money and what ain't. I don't talk about personal money matters much, but it's on my mind, so be it.

Paycheck to paycheck's been my entire adult life, since I moved out of my folks' houses at 17 and in with my first girlfriend. She, years older than me, liked to buy electronic toys and get credit cards in my name. Let's just say that when I finally left her, three years later and centuries wiser, this poor boy didn't take nothing but a bag of clothes, a box of books, and enough debt for a third world nation.

Between that auspicious beginning and a tendency toward sex, beer, and rock'n'roll and away from academic and professional success, let's just say I'm not rolling in dough. I shuffled from rented room to slum apartment as jobs came and went. I crossed the country for my sister's wedding with nothing but my boots, $20, and a Greyhound ticket. The whole time I lived in Atlanta, I never had car insurance or got my tags renewed. (Marta: it's smarta!)

Eventually, I came home to Tally and got this state job. When I first started in this office, what I was making seemed huge, a god-send, especially when coupled with actual health care. Ten years later, I'm making the same amount, and it ain't shit. I owe my mama. I owe my pops. I owe my sister. I probably owe you. I pay most of my bills most of the time. I don't pay for cable. I do have netflix. Last night, I ate buttered noodles for dinner. My neighbor gave me the noodles when he moved into his new house. I don't get paid for a week and a half. If I had $80, I wouldn't buy Lyle Lovett tickets is what I'm saying. I'd feed my cat, put gas in my car, and get aa badly needed oil change. I'm trying to find a second job for Saturday or Sunday afternoons, but you can guess how that's going in this college town.

This is a whiney post. Like I said, I don't usually discuss this, because it's mostly my own choices that put me on this economic rung, and times is rough all around. But I felt like venting, so there you go.

God will, but I won't

I've been a Lyle Lovett fan since the late 80s, when we got a few of his albums to play in our new cd player. The hair, the smile, the crooked sense of humor, even his name - the man was born to sing the American story. I lucked out and got to see him as part of a 3 songwriter showcase a few years ago at Ruby Diamond Auditorium thanks to a friend with connections. Hell of a night!

Well, when I found out he was coming back this year for 7 Days of Opening Nights, I had to price tickets. Are you fucking kidding me? Upwards of $80 for a few hours of music? I know, that's not too pricey for a mainstream concert, but that doesn't make it okay. How do you people who go to these things justify that? Is it a matter of only going out to see live music once a year? Have I just been so broke for so long that what looks like a massive bill to me is just an evening on the town to the average Lovett fan?

And, most importantly, who wants to buy me a ticket?

eyehooks

I've been following quite a few image blogs lately, just collections people make and show of visuals they find interesting or arresting. So I thought I'd join in the fun. Plus, blogger's free, so why the hell not?

"I've had dreams like that" is my new listing of photos and art that catch my eye, mostly swiped from around the web. That's all, no more, no less. I set it up as having adult content, because there's no telling when I'll need to post up some nice tatas. Or a Tom of Finland drawing. Who can say?

Anyway, go take a look at it. I'm being careful to provide links back to the sources, so if you like what you see, that's who to thank.

Biscuits and Gravy

Mama linked to my blog today, suggesting that folks ask for a copy of my current zine, Biscuits & Gravy, Corn Pudding & Black Eye Peas. I'm glad she liked it - she inspired it in a million ways - but it's just a simple, 8 page ramble about food and life. If you want a copy, drop me a line. I swear I promised someone a copy already, but I never mailed it - if that was you, write me again and I'll get on it. Either way, I'll need your mailing address; send it to: drunkonpabst at gmail dot com.

And just for kicks, the poem I wrote for the zine (probably the first verse I've written in 5 years, at least):

The south rises daily and fills a plate.
Cheese grits, breakfast or supper.
Field peas. Black eye peas.
Ham hock and hot sauce
Or yr mawmaw’s sweet sauce
From a mason jar.
Lima beans or call ‘em
Butter beans with chunks of pink pork
Either way.
Fried mullet, fried catfish
Dredged in corn meal salt and pepper.
Hushpuppies:
You add chopt onion to yr batter?
So many greens.
King Collards and the royal family:
Turnips, mustards, kale,
Dosed with pepper vinegar,
Pot liquor rich as beef broth.
Soaked up with skillet cornbread.
Pass me another slice of that,
Please sir, 
And the honey bear.

Don't-Drive-In Movies

I live very much in the center of town. If I called NYC home, my tiny apartment would cost approximately eleventy thousand a month and there'd be a doorman with gold braid on his coat. Instead, my rent check goes out at less than four hundred bucks, and there's a plastic skull over my porch light.

Good thing, too, because my friends and I ain't exactly what you would call the monied class. Mostly, we're the drinking class. Though we don't have a lot of cash, we do tend to be clever fuckers, so we make our own fun. We're getting a little burnt out on just listening to music and getting a buzz on, which seems to be the drill for Friday nights and special occasions right now, so this week we came up with a new and truly awesome fun time: the Firestone Outdoor Theater. The only Don't Drive In movies in the county.

Ever see Escape from New York projected on a two story high outside wall? A twenty foot tall Snake Plisskin kicks so much ass, I can't even tell you. See, my back parking lot - hidden from street view on all sides and lacking residential neighbors - is bordered on one side by the tall end of a local auto repair shop. It makes a beautiful movie screen when a friend brings over a dvd projector that may or may not have fallen off a truck.

So there we were, maybe ten friends sitting in two rough lines, swigging beers and answering back to the movie. Over our heads comes the party patrol helicopter. It circled us four times and then flew off. Can you imagine how weird we all looked from above, sitting there in the dark, all facing the same direction in a hidden parking lot in the middle of down town? I tell you this much: they'll have another chance to try and figure it out come Friday.

I want all the books

There's a new used bookstore opening down on Gaines. Here's the letter that the former owners of Word Traffic books sent out:

I’m excited to tell you about a new independently-owned bookstore opening soon in Tallahassee. The store is located at 672 W. Gaines Street, between University Cycle and the Warehouse. It’s in the Quonset hut, that semi-cylindrical corrugated steel building.

Please understand that this is not a resurrection or reincarnation of Word Traffic. I am not in any way involved in the ownership of the store, but I have been hired by the owner to help shape things up prior to opening and to work as a staff member once the store opens. The owner’s name in Jayson Hays, a long-time Tallahassee resident, academic, and book collector. He has amassed a great volume and variety of used inventory, including very impressive collections of European literature and history and Judaica.

I hope you will make note of the following dates:

Friday, August 7th (First Friday): Open-house and store preview from 6:00-10:00 pm. The store is not quite ready, but we are inviting the public to come in and look around, see what we’re doing, have some refreshments, even buy a book if you feel moved to do so.

Monday, August 17th: Store opens for business, and will be open regular hours henceforth.

In my personal and professional estimation, this is going to be a fantastic used book store, and I look forward to seeing you there. Please feel free to forward this message to anyone who might be interested.

I dunno about you, but I'm a used paperback fanatic. I'll be checking this out as soon as they open for real business. Pass the word!