I'm an Alpha Male on Beta Blockers!

Speculating about Fringe

2009-11-20T23:49:26Z

Spoilery speculation...

The reason the alt universe is waging war on our universe?

Alt-Walter wants his son back! He hasn't been seen but he has to exist otherwise Peter wouldn't be here.

so portlanders...

2009-11-02T02:31:13Z

Last chance offer! Tonight's Regina Spektor show 8pm @ the Roseland. I haz ticket. You can have it or I give it to the cleanest hobo I can find.

Also, I will be hanging around until tomorrow afternoon. Anyone free for bfast or lunch?

Jonathan @ 360.224.0736

Today...

2009-11-01T14:49:02Z

I am heading to Portland with an extra Regina Spektor ticket for tonight's show. At this point I'd just give it to one of my Portland friends if they wanted it...

With a view to 2010...

2009-10-25T17:41:02Z

I have picked up a new paper planner. I don't do well relying solely on electronics. My laptop/phone/iPod make for good alarms and reminders but for planning and scheduling my days I am a pen and paper type of man.

About this time last year I was making the same plan, to get organized and use a book to keep track of what I was doing throughout 2009. I did fairly well for the first month but then I was sidetracked by my heart attacking me and then later by my mom's passing. The time to restart my good intentions never seemed to be right. But with the upcoming reset of the calendar and my birthday the time to bring things from the nebulous chaos to order seems right. I'll finish the last two months of this year's organizer and with any luck transition into a more organized, and less dramatic 2010.

Today is a dark and rainy day. I am down at Avellinos munching on a croissant, drinking a mocha, making notes, and in between bouts of Bellebrity*, writing, and reading "The Undertaking Life Studies From the Dismal Trade" by Thomas Lynch. I can't bitch too much, I do enjoy knowing a ton of people and being known in my town. So much of my previous life stressed humility and modesty and I was mostly unnoticed because I rarely made a fuss. Hell I never even asked for what I needed.

The day will be full of chores for me, mostly domestic, performed to whatever playlist iTunes Genius generates. It's too wet to wield the torch and lay down tar to seal the cracks and crevices in the foundation. Besides, I need clean pants.

I purposely didn't bring my power cord with me to the coffeeshop, I need a limit so I don't spend all day here. I could, you know, spend my whole day writing, drawing, plotting and scheming. Reading and daydreaming.

*Bellingham+celebrity

South Park

2009-10-21T07:27:39Z

My first episode of Hell's Kitchen and I can't stand this loudmouth...

2009-10-07T03:23:49Z

Geez... has she ever heard of an indoor voice?

It's true...

2009-09-26T17:09:07Z

I have an apartment for rent. It is 625.00 a month, all the usual yadda, yadda I have posted over the years;

It's essentially the mirror image of my own funky apartment without the always present intrusion of work.

I am missing out on Coffeefest and Ryan's competition this year because of this apartment. Stuck here in town waiting for the phone to ring, for someone to be interested and actually set an appointment to see it. Of course no one has called in over two weeks so the silence of today's phones is not unexpected but it is especially upsetting when I could be doing something more productive.

I realize I am beginning to sound like a broken record (stuck in a groove, repeating, to you kids out there who have grown up without the vinyl) to my friends and co-workers about how much I have grown to despise my resident manager job of late. I feel so trapped. Sure I don't have to work a second paying gig to pay rent, but what good is it if that time is not free? It is a second job, one that is tied to my home life and the bonds are grown too tight and too deep. If I go home and need a nap I want to take a nap and not awaken with my first thoughts being how i didn't sweep the decks or empty the laundry room trash or change a light bulb.

drunky mcgee

2009-09-17T06:11:43Z

There are times when the rtapid homing pace of my alcohol infused brain is not a good thing. The two shadowy figures up there have convinced me to stay here under Toth's Upholstery to let them gain some distance.

If it's raining, it must be Wednesday...

2009-09-16T20:50:13Z

I have been growing weary of the home- is-work-is-home situation for some time now. I have been managing the apartment building for some ten years and I think it's getting to be time to move on. I have several ideas on what I can do as well as a couple of leads on places but between you and me, the idea of moving is scary. I haven't had to fork over cash for a decade, only my time and my sweat ( and to a lesser extent, some elements of my sanity ).

I am not the same guy who moved into my apartment in the fall of 1999. My life is fuller, my friends more numerous. I have lost weight and my mother. My heart has led me into unexplored territory and then wheeled around and attacked me.

My little corner unit is safe and warm and it kinda forces me to stagnate. There's always so much to do I have little time to pursue things more interesting and artistic than a leaky sink or some damaged drywall.

__ is easy, _ is hard...

2009-09-06T17:15:40Z

Despite yesterday's success at Weight Watchers (down another 1.8 pounds) and a good night previously at the theater and afterwards I was plagued yesterday by an unsettled energy that wouldn't let me find peace. I tried walking it off but I exhausted my body and exacerbated my emotions. I considered napping but it was as if I once again overdone the NoDoze like when I would drive down to southern Oregon to visit family.

So I sat at home immobile while my mind behaved like a plate spinner, dashing from thought to thought touching, brushing, keeping the momentum going like some horrible OCD gone awry. Everything seemed heavier and of greater importance than it actually is.

I finally crawled back under my smoothed sheets around four in the afternoon. The world dropped away into the blackness of dreamless sleep.

Some four and a half hours later I awoke hungry, heavy and groggy. It took over an hour to get showered and dressed. Every movement weighed and measured. I made dinner and ate in the company of some nameless sadness. I didn't speak of it .

Sleep returned around two in the morning and now yesterday's problems seem to have vanished with a good meal. Such a wonder the chemistry of the body. And such a curse. In fact my friend G. is experiencing the madness of the boiling river of teenaged boy hormones.

I don't feel unhinged by the blustery day today. I can be in it and be buffeted and remain standing.

Apartment for rent!

2009-09-02T01:44:23Z

One bedroom, one bath 595.00 SINGLE OCCUPANCY available soon.

W/S/G/Natural gas paid.

NON-SMOKERS and NO PETS, please.

360-224-0736 leave a message if you don't catch me.

Bars and such...

2009-08-27T03:02:54Z

The lights have dimmed at Uisce and I find myself in the middle of the long bar, the ends I prefer are occupied by the drinks and props of absent patrons.

The post work drink has become an enjoyable pasttime lately but after reading, I'm Perfect, You're Doomed I have come to realize my bar hopping self, the smiling, quiet, busket-clutching inibriate you've come to know is actually a recent evolution in my personality.

In truth, I didn't really hit the bars in earnest until I started volunteering with the WFA's Fairhaven Outdoor Cinema (not that bastard rip-off now showing in the Village Green and then after I was invited to the board I discovered the joy of artsy non-profit meetings at the Calumet, the Black Cat, Nimbus, Boundary Bay...

See, growing up JW my friends and I went out for pizza and drank beer until we couldn't see straight but we never went out to the bars or the clubs because we were led to believe the bars were, if not evil in themselves, they were full of wordly people who wanted to lead us astray. I wish I had the Watchtower illustrations showing the perils awaiting a true believer should he or she cross the threshhold of a bar.

Funny, because over the last ten or so years I have seen a lot of things in Bellingham's bars but nothing like what I was warned about.

When I lived in Coupeville the big thing was Toby's Tavern. Northern Exposure was the it show and Toby's was a PNW tavern with a lot of shit on the walls and ceiling. My friend Rick and I would go there for beer and mussels and fried zucchini with horseradish. We were never counseled about it but we never over drank and left early so we never got to be drunk. But then again Rick and I were a pair of 30-ish men who could only swear on each others company, like a pair of conspiritors. I may have more to say but there is a dog, a cute girl, and a friend all of whom need my attention...

Wednesday

2009-08-05T15:12:54Z

Walked to Dark Haggens from some where in the Colombia neighborhood last
night barefoot. The moon was shining especially bright.

I could somehow avoid most of the tiny, jabbing stones but the aggregate
stone of the sidewalks and roadways tore at my soles. Also the more
comfortable a house looks to live in, the more littered the sidewalks and
imperiled the traveler's soles.

Today I have to sign the papers regarding my mother's cremation. So many
have asked about a memorial service I have to say that my mom did not want
one but I am probably going to hold a small one with my aunts and a couple
of her close friends.

Friday night

2009-08-01T05:28:50Z

& our hero finds himself enjoying distant music and faint breezes at the Honey Moon.

After all this time it is my first visit here. It's pretty nice and I could imagine myself here again.

I am feeling great!

2009-07-24T12:45:54Z

Despite having a pretty long day of working both jobs I think today will rock!

It may not look like it now...

2009-07-19T01:18:59Z

But I have been busting my hump all day. Errands, chores, painting decks.

Now I find peace and quiet in my little tent.

In which our hero rambles drunkenly...

2009-07-18T09:23:13Z

The crescent moon hangs low in the early morning, waxing rhapsodic over the night-ending revelers.

Movies on the cobblestones made me laugh, made better by the considerate leftovers.

The tent in the backyard calls to me. Cool air feels good on my skin.

I'm stronger than people think. Try me, I can take it.

No, your drink is stupid, Fuck You.

I am a fan of the shapely ass.

Here and now is pretty fantastic. I am glad to be part of it, of you.

I just watched a movie...

2009-07-15T06:08:40Z

I Like Killing Flies

A great documentary about a diner in NY and the man behind it all...

Party of Five by Robert Herson
you could put a chair at the end
or push the tables together
but don't bother
This banged-up little restaurant
where you would expect no rules at all
has a firm policy against seating
parties of five
And you know who you are
a party of five
it doesn't matter if one of you
offers to leave or if
you say you could split into
a party of three and a party of two
or if the five of you come back tomorrow
in Richard Nixon masks and try to pretend
that you don't know each other
it won't work: You're a party of five
even if you're a beloved regular
Even if the place is empty
Even if you bring logic to bear
Even if you're a tackle for the Chicago Bears
it won't work
You're a party of five
You will always be a party of five
A hundred blocks from here
a hundred years from now
you will still be a party of five
and you will never savor the soup
or compare the coffee or
hear the wisdom of the cook
and the wit of the waitress or
get to hum the old-time tunes
among which you will find
no quintets.]

in which our protagonist ponders the sins of the fathers...

2009-07-13T06:24:12Z

I don't know much about my history, the big history, upper case and such. Family.

Being in the dark about where I'm from and who are the shadowy furtive squirrels in the branches of the family tree made assessing my risk for even more cardiac fun difficult at best. My mom is a locked chest of family history, giving only a peek with the most insistent prying.

At least I have some family on the maternal side in Seattle. Almost as tight-lipped, not talking about family business even between family. Maybe it's genetic or perhaps it's the deep vein of Catholicism. My over-active imagination expands in the vacuum of information, creating demons and monsters and the horrific acts needing to be buried with decades of silence.

I remember some years back, when my mother was still living in Oregon, but still recently widowed. I was sitting on the floor of the house in Grants Pass, a box of old photographs spread out around me, trying to get a sense of who my father was. I had yet to shed a tear for his passing, I was detached by time apart and miles of distance as well as a lifetime of half-assed estrangement.

I have an old photo of my dad, B&W, from the late forties or the early, early fifties I guess, relatively fresh from the war, dressed sharply, two-toned wing tip shoes, slick hair and he's playing with a little girl, a toddler in a frilly dress. The siding of the house is visible as well as the big black fender of a car in the driveway.

I learn this is my half-sister, Linda. My dad had been married before and just like my dad, my wife packed up and left with the child. Why had it been kept a locked-up secret? I felt betrayed by my past. I had no missteps held up to the light, no option to learn from their mistakes or repeat them. I felt twice-abandoned, once by the truth and again in death.

Here is what I have cobbled together...

I come from hardworking stock. My paternal grandfather was a carpenter around the previous turn of the century, building churches on the Hawaiian islands. He was arrested for stealing bread at some point in his life. He died relatively young.

My dad was born in California in the early 1920's. After grandpa died, grandma and my father took a steamship to Hawaii and Grandma remarried a plantation supervisor (overseer?) My dad told stories of trading the local kids his white bread sandwiches for their sushi and other foods. I don't know much more until his teen years when he was an usher for a movie theater.

Dad was in WWII as a sharpshooter I think. He used the word on the rare occasions when he would speak of his service. Usually during or after a war movie on TV. Again the absence of facts create a more colorful tapestry in my head. How much of what he saw, what he did affected his hands as he shaped me?

(I'm tired and I'm a little tipsy from hanging out. I will finish this thought at a later date)

In which our hero takes a day off from the internets...

2009-07-10T05:28:13Z

Gets off his ass and focuses on the here and now.

In which our hero truggles against an increasingly impersonal world

2009-07-09T05:42:07Z

The past few days after the fourth have been so grey and rainy.

June comes late this year.

I learned the hobo for whom I bought a small coffee came in and wanted to bitch about how he was "ripped off". At the time I thought his expectation of refills was kind of bit too much but now I see he was just getting started. I don't like it. I want to take back my act of humanity and replace it with harsh words and violent gestures.

I'd like to think, were I traveling, cashless and hat in hand, I'd be more thankful than this guy, but then again if I were walking, I'd be walking by choice. For adventure's sake or escape from the monotony of the everyday. i would not be imperiled by the mistake of forsaking the meds.

I don't like being a "mark", a target. I don't like to be seen as a source of revenue.

Oh well...

I Have been on a bit of a social roll the last week. Hanging out with a wide variety of people in a melange' of venues and arenas. How could i make it better? I am going to declare this Friday a no-internet day. No Facebook, no Lj, no Gmail, no Yahoo or Questionable Content. Nada, zip. That goes for my phone too, even text messages will be disabled for the day. Phone calls will be okay as long as they aren't during my shift at the Drop.

We are always so connected yet we lose the sense of here and now. I find myself immediately checking my phone when it chimes or feeling a sense I have missed out when I notice the flashing light-oh crap, what's going on without me? But while I'm opening a new window on my touchscreen phone, I'm slamming doors on my
friends sitting next to me. It's fishing for something better, something more entertaining than who I'm with. It's rude behavior and you deserve better than that from me.

So come bedtime tomorrow night I put the laptop away and configure the phone to ring for phone calls only.

I leave you with this tonight;

From the farmers market today...

2009-07-05T03:23:56Z

Happy Saturday...

2009-07-04T18:48:15Z

Another night spent out (that makes 5) but with my wits about me this time.

The cell phone photo show at Jinx was pretty rad. We could send Michelle photos of the event as it unfolded and they would be posted to a Flickr slide show. I could only stay for a little of the music as I wanted to see the Midnight at 11 show at the iDiom theater.

The green food trailer was serving outside of the Wild Buffalo. Still riding the wave of happy, I ordered a cuban sandwich and a mexican coke. The lights, the crowd of people, the muffled thrum of music made the act of buying a snack seem like a carnival.

The line for the theater was down the hall, out the door, and starting to curve along the sidewalk when I arrived shortly before 10:30 (the arrival time suggested by the Cascadia Weekly). I still got a front row seat on the aisle, my seating of choice. Every seat was taken including folding chairs and bar stools. Welcome back, local theater, we 'Hamsters have been hungering for you.

The already warm space superheated with the crush of bodies. A lucky few had fans or the materials to pleat. Fluttering paper wings in the corners of my eyes.

My hair was loose last night, an untamed, post-coital mane (minus the coitus, damn it!). It attracted fingers from the row behind me. I was not paying attention so I didn't see Tiffany come in and I don't see her at the shop enough to recognize her voice out of context. I do like having my head petted so if the urge comes upon you I will not complain, in fact, I may begin to purr.

I had a really good time. Jon Sampson's music was particually awesome. Not to take away from Sol, Tal, or the ladies of the Dirty Bird Cabaret. They were also great.

So I slept in to 9ish and threw on a clean t-shirt and have been posting this at Avellinos on my phone in between coffee, pastry, and pages of David B.'s Epileptic. Maybe some more coffee and then home again to tidy up before fun.

Post tattooing

2009-07-03T02:41:59Z

Clearly...

Inking 2

2009-07-03T01:26:03Z

Seems like a lifetime ago now that the art is finished.