Posts Tagged ‘good’

They stopped on top a hill just outside Espanola. The car was packed with stuff but they squeezed me in anyway. They had started at Wisconsin and had just been hitchhiking themselves, across Newfoundland.  Apparently they acquired a car (I didn’t inquire) and were headed for Winnipeg.

The girl seemed tired but they guy was really friendly. Maybe too friendly, were they fighting?

There was a lot of stops at construction sites and I nodded off a few times.  The radio was droning away in a monotone, half AM talk-show half static, that no one was paying attention to, so I offered some tapes for them to choose from.  The girl chose my Mr. Bungle tape because the other side of it was labeled “Make Your Momma Puke Mix”, a mix tape a friend had made for me back in Barrie.  We listened to the whole Mr. Bungle side and they decided it was too weird for them.  I tried to explain the other side was a completely different style but they weren’t really listening due to their stop and go construction malaise.

As the grateful passenger I offered up full control of the music, my scissored and taped Pot o’ Gold chocolate box I’d fashioned into a compact, space efficient tape case and packed with used cassettes at a hock shop in Sudbury (I discovered I could fit in more by crammin them in upside down on the rightside up ones).  They chose Cypress Hill and played it side to side about five times until the machine inevitably ate the tape as we rolled into Sault Ste. Marie.  They apologized profusely but I didn’t really care.  I still had Billy Idol.  I offered the silver lining “Hey, now I got room for a NEW tape”.  They dropped me downtown Sault where I walked to a hostel as they went for dinner.  I ran into them leaving town as I strolled out of the hostel, baggage free-what a luxury.  Maybe I’ll run into them in Winnipeg……

This I wrote in Sault Ste. Marie:

Walkin down the Street

in my bare feet

Left my boots at home to cool down ’cause they were hurtin’ me

Hope you caught the irony

it’s what inspired me

To write a song about

the walk down to the

beach and back in agony


I like truckers.  More specifically I like riding in the the trucks and I like how they always take me real far.  This one was a cool old dude.

Old-timer, always talking about something thing that happened in ’59 or ’73 or telling clever little jokes like “I spilled spot remover on my dog and he dissappeared.”  He said it’s nice to have someone to ride with:  “I tell myself jokes but I’ve heard most of them.”  I like that he said ‘most’:)

We stopped for coffee in Whiteriver(?)  We told jokes and chatted away.  It was alot easier to talk in the diner.  The A/C in the truck was broken so all the windows were open and it was hard to hear.

Good man.  Nice friendly down to earth guy.  Just what I need after the last few crazy dayz…

We got to Regina but not before watching the skyscrapers fade right out of the sky way before we were even close to it.  I guess that’s the thing about it being totally flat out here

First girl to pick me up.  Surprisingly, no sex.  Maybe next time…

She talked slow.  “I’m .. from .. Canada .. so .. they .. think .. I’m .. slow,”(Simpsons)  She was cool though.

Apparently there’s a psycho hospital in this town so this is where they all get released back into civilization.  Doesn’t surprise me.

So yeah, I decided to walk from the hostel to Thunderbay (“Right over this next hill!  No wait, this time”)  And, thank god, a fat shirtless dude with a white grey beard in a van pulled up.  He said he was on his way to the marina and saw me walkin through the middle of nowhere with a full backpack, rucksack and guitar and decided I looked like I needed a lift.  He dropped me off at the bus station where the bus drivers terrorize the town of Thunderbay with there good intentions.

A strange fellow driving a Honda Civic.  He proudly showed off the McGyvering skills he had used on his steering wheel, which had the top chunk cut out so he could see his speedometer, and sunroof, which he kept held on with plastic fasteners.  He told me stories about how he lived in a large TeePee (at first I thought he said he had a TV.  25 feet!!  Holy Shit!…and you lived in it…?)  insulating it for the winter with stuff from the dump, carpet samples, couch cushions and heating it with a stove.

He wore glasses, had a shaved head and a mustache trimmed short.  I wouldn’t say he was a skid per-say but definitely not your average joe.  I guess you could say he had his shit together, relatively speaking.

Though the car was fairly packed we passed another hitchhiker with a “Room for one more?”  I said sure, keepin up on my karma, and we pulled over.  I squeezed into the back with deals of alternating spots at stops.

Peter was the mans name and Jamie was our new passenger.  Jamie’s Dad makes and repairs guitars.  “Magnets for fixing cracks?  I’ll have to remember that.”  Peter was headed for Edson near Edmonton to drop off his car.  Jamie to B.C.  These are the things I learned about them, the details I didn’t.

The trip to Thunderbay was long and drawn out by short nod offs with long dreams.  We all stayed at a hostel some distance from town-which I tried to walk to the next day(see next time)  Peter made chowder with melba toast, Nutella, peanut butter and trail mixx for us and Jamie smoked us a joint.  We sat in the hostel’s common room and watched “Man on the Moon”, a movie which I later saw in a laundry mat, like one of those things you notice and then you see it everywhere.

This looks like something I’ve seen in a dream

Like deja vu, I wonder what it means

It can’t help but be funny it’s too crazy.

What’s security?  What’s freedom?  They’re contradictory.  They’re both “good” supposedly.  It seems obvious that there’s some kind of grey area.  In fact, isn’t grey area all there ever has been?  Anything that’s not scientifically proven  shows shades of grey.  Let’s face it.  We’re all Goddamn humans.  Hey, sure, we’re competitive.  If we weren’t the Neanderthal might still be co-existing around with us (they disappeared shortly after first contact with us).  That’d be interesting. A similar race to bounce philosophies off of.

But it seems painfully obvious that we’ve outgrown our competitive instinct.  Good vs Evil for example.  That’s a good one.  Like how drugs are labeled “bad” and yet by doing so, making them illegal, they become the main source of income for organized crime.  If they were legal and regulated like alcohol then crime syndicates would cease being lucrative.  What are they gonna do for money?  Murder?

But if drugs were legal and anyone could decide to use them whenever they wanted, then wouldn’t everyone just be fucked up all the time?  What  kind of people do you know?  Boy, I’d love to try heroine.  Too bad it’s illegal..  No.  Addicts would deal with their baggage the same way addicts do today.  Addiction is one of many symptoms of a multi-symptomed society.  If you had a society that promotes something that was actually realistic, that your work made sense, that you had a real purpose in serving society, (you wouldn’t see so many glorified rebels), if society actually had our real interests at heart then the world would be accepting of our (fairly new) capability to view the world as one whole world entity (and entirely connected) system and decide what to do in all of our best interests.  We, the humans, invented the monetary system.  Now we serve it.  For what?  Products scheduled to break.  Incompatible updates to new technologies (now you gotta buy a whole new system).  Unbridled waste.

‘Cause no matter what you believe, we’re runnin’ out.  Of what?  Everything.  If anything’s finite, we’re using the last of it.  Plastic:  made from oil.  Saudi Arabia, source of a quarter of the worlds oil supply, they’re drilling offshore.  Not the most efficient method.  And water, since fresh water’s being wasted like it’s gonna replace itself somehow.  We need to set up desalinization plants around all oceanside land which takes a lot of energy to run so we need sustainable energy running them and this all is going to take a lot of work.  The sooner we start the better chance we have.  We need water.

Or maybe nothing ever runs out and life is just dreamy.  It would be nice not to have to consider my own contribution to the worlds ruin.  I can totally see how appealing that could be to believe in.  But if I don’t trust scientists in their own fields then who could I ever believe?  Does the scientific method mean anything to anybody?  It’s purpose is that which can be proved with as many variables eliminated as possible.

My favorite surmise to the debate about how trustworthy the past decade of climate scientists are is thus:  The credibility of a scientist is as important to them as profits are to an oil company. (kinda sums up where the motives of the counter-argument as well)

New Song!!!

Posted: January 15, 2009 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Check out my new song Bare Bones.  Careful, it’s heavy (you’ll wanna lift with your knees;-)

My girlfriend’s great and I’ll tell you why.  Every Christmas she gets real excited  and busts out all the decorations and cooks oranges with cloves in them to smell up the house and we watch It’s a Wonderful Life and White Christmas and Garfield’s Christmas and I joke that we have to watch Batman Returns and Die Hard I.  We walk down the street and see trees decorated and she goes “Look!”.

Before I met her  nobody cared about Chrstmas.  Not really.  Just my family and it was just a reason to see each other ’cause I live so far away.  But other than that there’s a definite backlash from the “cool kids”.  But as you really grow up, by which I mean the post-teenage type of growing up that teens and early 20 somethings don’t believe in,  you figure out the difference between ‘keeping your cool’ and just being defiant.  One’s important and one’s not well thought out.

If you think about, like, really ponder the consequences of everything, you should be celebrating everything you get a chance to!  Celebrating is good.  Feeling good, also: good.  It’s not really rocket-science.  And maybe it’s not “cool” because some can go “pshhh, Christmas sucks” and make you feel a little silly for getting worked up about it.  Personally I make it a point to be as silly as often as socially acceptable.  Cool people don’t get to be silly, only legitimately cool cats can pull it off and keep their cool without putting people down to puff themselves up.

So to wrap it up  (christmas pun;-), have as much fun as possible this Christmas, get into it, watch a heart-warming Christmas Special and sneak a sentimental tear while no ones looking, get some Nog going and just enjoy the feeling of it.  Keep your cool and be a little silly.

Happy Holidays