Sunday, August 26, 2007
I Was Blogging When I Should Have Been Listening
I know; you probably think I'm trying to relive my teenage years since the blogging has been so spotty lately, but it's not the case. Other things have just seemed extra pertinent: family, music (Mudhoney, Nina Simone, and Richie Havens are my faves of this week), reading (Heat currently), story writing (look for The Wayside Bible Club, think Fast Times Of Ridgemont High meets Halloween, to hit Goblinhaus in October), and downright laziness. I also finally got a DVR so I've been watching lots of movies; The Sugarland Express, White Lightning, The Devil And Daniel Johnston (one yeah on the DD Blank 3 yeah grading system), The Matador, and The Squid And The Whale among many.
Plus there's just a generalized anomie working on my head: what should I blog about? Writing about music seems to be not worth the trouble anymore unless I can provide mp3's. There are just so many talented people out there in the blogosphere waxing rhapsodic about their music - just see Hype Machine or Elbo. I've lost that great proselytizing urge, that need to share the music you love. This is a bit sad since I used to really work people over with what I enjoyed. Dig up some of my friends from back in the day and they'll tell you.
There are always current events, but they don't really move me to get really gone if you catch my drift. Translated: I'm no reporter and I'm not after chasing ambulances whether political, military, economic, or celebrity related. I posted a few politically bent pieces in the past and they seem particularly cringe worthy now that I've changed my mind on certain things. I'll keep my views to the voting booth and live my life with integrity and let the dust settle from that in the end.
So what's left? I don't have one specific talent, no expertise to share with the worldwide web. Damn I wish I had thought of the idea to blog about every R.E.M. song or something similar. Maybe there's a thirst out there for in depth B.J. And The Bear episode summaries.
Maybe somebody would like an exegesis on the character of the quintessential redneck shitkicker Bobby "Gator" McKlusky who along with Billy Jack, Batman, and Bruce Lee were all idols of mine when I was grade school age (what is it with all the "B" names). Let’s throw Evel Knievel in there too to bust those “B’s” up a little.
I would do comedy, but we've got Rex L. Camino for that. This leaves me the nostalgia amusement park of prose. I could perhaps do something with that. But it might take awhile. My memory synapses could use some rejuvenation. I once prided myself on a photographic memory, but I think they were all remembered on Polaroid’s and they're fading fast. Nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake isn’t enough. I have to make my material vital in a time machine applicable sort of way. Let the ghosts of the past communicate with today. So now I shall go mediate for some time and try to remember the best stories from the past. But first let me watch the B.J. And The Bear credits and theme a few dozen more times.