Saturday, September 4, 2010

there's no re-sell value there

Get up. Slink around the house in underwear. Turn on the stereo. Frown at what disc is in the player. Replace it with something else. Cook scrambled eggs. Lay on the couch in the heat. Wonder if today will be better than the day before. Decide it will or won’t be. Pretty much setting the tone for the rest of the day. Finally pull self off of couch to take a shower. Look at face in mirror. Think of Waylon Jennings lines. Decide not to shave, once again. Shower. Dry off. Get dressed. Grab a package of crackers for lunch. Start car. Drive car for 50-55 minutes. Enter work. Work. Joke with co-workers about how much work sucks. All knowing it isn’t really a joke. Be frustrated by incompetence surrounding self. Finish work. Drive 50-55 minutes home. Check for mail. Be disappointed that no one wrote a letter. Think of Glossary lyrics. Go inside. Open up windows and doors to cool off the joint. Turn on computer. Type. Think of eating something. Maybe eat, maybe not. Stare at keyboard, wishing something would jump out of the brain onto the page. Finally start falling asleep on couch. Move to bedroom. Sleep.

Get up….

Could have had a date tonight. Wonder how that would have turned out? Found out last night that this woman that my friends are trying to set me up with will be at the beach all weekend. However, me, I’m going to be working today, then hitting the road for D.C. All I know about her is she’s a teacher. I’ve thought about the fact that you end up with your father as a daughter and your mom as a son, and that would fit. But that’s me, thinking too much before it even matters. She’s younger than me, I think. Which would get chants of “of course she is” from any and all friends of mine. I don’t try to only date younger women, but I end up doing it.

She won’t qualify for the fup, fup club, however. So, that research project will have to wait for another day.

Honestly, there’s no desire to go to work today. Yesterday, I ended up combining three wire stories into one (space issues). All on the same college team. First, a local kid was one caught up in an NCAA investigation. Then right before deadline, he was cleared to play. So, another re-write. I like doing this, don’t get me wrong, it’s what I chose as a profession years ago. But to do it for the dolts who get the real stuff bothers me a lot. Found out one of the dolts applied for a ‘way over his head job’ last night. If he actually got it, which he won’t, my faith in this profession will sink to a new low. Reward the idiots, curse the ones who actually get what it’s about, and stand up for it. To the detriment of their lives and careers.

I gave too much of my soul to this profession, and it didn’t give anything back.

Did I expect it to? I mean, it has no soul itself. And other than the ideals of some involved, it never has and never will. I guess that’s been my issue all along. I believe in myths. I believe in lofty aspirations. When, in fact, man does not live by anything like that. It’s like Joe Strummer. You can hope he lives up to his words, but when you look at the man himself, he didn’t. Ever. Even from the beginning. He was just a flawed person, like all of us.

I don’t want to give up on believing that something good will come if I keep trying. But, like Sam Jackson once said … “I’m trying real hard Ringo.”

I just need to stop thinking about it. But how do you do that? I used to stop it by drinking. But I don’t want to just do that anymore. It’s expensive (and I’m broke, as well as broken) and I don’t want to die of cirrhosis anymore. Not as glamorous as the authors made it seem. Well, they never made it seem that way, I did.

It’s an awful thing when the CD ends before you’re ready for it to do so. It’s a disadvantage of old technology. But the advantages of Lps and Cds and such far outweigh having all my songs on an I-pod. What an awful thing. Music should be appreciated, not just tossed into the ears. It’s also not an investment anymore. You used to go to a store, browse around, talk to folk, listen to them, absorb them. Now? You hear it in a commercial, go online and buy it for 99 cents. Eventually, I’m sure all digital purchases will disappear into the ether. No one is going to have a thrift store full of digital music, are they? There is no re-sell market for MP3s.

I still revel in finding an old 45 in a thrift. Or a CD in a box with the “not for re-sale” sticker on it, meaning it’s a promo.

Those are the things that keep me going…

Got to keep on trucking.

Ha. Maybe I can drive a small truck, right?

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