Isn't life so strange?!

The events of the past 72-or-so hours have been a severe reminder of Newton's law of motion. "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction," has never rang so true, so clear, and so abrupt. I recant the story for you here with minimal frivolity, well, as much as I can anyhow. 


It all started on Friday afternoon. 


I am at work in the final few agonizing hours of the day's shift, just taking care of business as usual. A gentlemen came to me for assistance, which I provided to an extent. Upon his asking for a favor that I felt was a little suspect, I peacefully insisted that he take care of it himself because there were aspects involved that I could not know or help. He walked away and took charge to his task. I turned back to my colleagues and uttered a simple but firm statement in passing: "...I'm not going to do his fucking job." At the time, we laughed, shrugged and went back to work. 


The day at the office finally wrapped up and I headed to my new place. Just signed a fresh lease with Whitney in an amazing apt complex right next door to my work, and needed to pick up our keys.. Friday was Jessica's birthday, and plans were set to go out drinking later on the East side of town. So I took care of business and headed out. Cool bar with good company made for a great time. Many strange, yet very engaging conversations with many a stranger took place. After last call we headed out to a friend's house to continue the party. For my money, the after party was the better shindig. A lot of wild things were happening that night. Finally sobered up and called it around 5:30am. Headed home in the cool night air after a long night with good people.


Woke up to the cell phone screaming Bloody Mary in my ear. It was my closest cousin, Dusty. He was fillin' in on bass for a small group out of Oklahoma for a few nights on the road, while his other group remains on hiatus. My cousin was finally playing Gruene Hall. I threw on the closest, cleanest shirt, some questionable jeans and my boots, and I was out the door again. Cruised 85~90mph the whole way and made it in damn near record time. Ran the sound for the show and goofed off all afternoon, while pounding Shiner beers like water. He had no plans for the night or next day so I had Mike order a ticket for the concert we were going to later that night. Manchester Orchestra, White Denim, The Dear Hunter, and Little Hurricane were all playing Stubb's BBQ. We already had some tickets, being Rocktober and all. So I told him I would do whatever it would take for him to stay the night and have a good time, which eventually convinced him. 


There was something electric in the air. It was palpable. Wrecks lines the access roads of the highway, one even shut down all of 35-South. 8 festivals were going on simultaneously in the city on this single weekend. An excitement was brewing. After a long battle with an automated parking lot toll box from Hell, we made it to Stubb's. Dusty's eyes were huge since the ribs under 35, and he hadn't seen nothin' yet. That night, each band killed it. Each better than the last. Each more engaging, more precise, more entertaining. The crescendo of the night came as the headliners were just beginning to really warm up their chops. I drifted over to the merch tables, as advised by Leah who apparently got the lead singer all moist and wanting for an opportunity.. to hire a sound guy. Pull your mind out of the gutter. He introduced himself and the familiar small talk was underway. One thing led to another, and sure enough, he offered me to come out to some of their rehearsals after this tour ends, to run some sound. If things work out well, then they will let me run a few shows for them, here in Austin in December. If those work out, then I could have an opportunity to go on a West coast (maybe even more) tour with them and Wilco, starting in January. It took every bit of my strength not to burst from the seams as I handed him my business card. Well, to be honest, it wasn't even my business card. It was the Floyd Audio card with my name and number scribbled on the back. But he was cool with it. Said to follow up in a month or so. I bought a shirt and a record from him, shook his hand and then floated back into the crowd. As I walked up to the group, the look on Leah's face told me that she already knew. We roared into the open air with everything we had when I told them the news. 


After the show, Mike and Leah went home while Dusty and I stayed. I had an obligation to this virgin of the 6th Street experience, to break him in. We went to Flamingo Cantina and ended up staying until last call. A few jam bands were playing, along with Dia de los Muertos burlesque dancers in-between sets. We rode on white horses and stiff drinks through the night. Eventually, as it always happens to go at this location, we got offered to smoke on the balcony. We hung out with them the rest of the night, and ended up making really good friends out of the group. One of the girls was a dancer in the show that evening, along with her b/f and their roommates and a few other friends. They have a house near the ghetto-tastic apartments we once occupied. At the end of the night they gave us a ride so we wouldn't have to mess with a cab. We were much obliged. The party continued at their artsy house, playing farckle until the wee hours of the morning. Another 6am night.  Took a taxi home just a few blocks cause we were so far gone. We pulled up to my apt, the meter rang $6, and we hurried to bed before the sunlight lifted from the horizon. 


Sunday morning comes all too early. Hell, it was already there by the time I was going to bed initially. We get around and I take him to the airport on his request. I volunteered to drive him to Oklahoma City, stay with him and his wife Sunday night, call into work Monday and just drive back in after a good night's sleep. He felt bad, like he was putting me out or something. But I did volunteer, so I stuck to my guns. After a typically busy airport experience, we discovered that he could not get a flight anywhere under $2,000. [INSERT BUZZER NOISE HERE] So we thought about it and turns out he could rent a car in Austin, drive himself up to OKC, and just drop off the rental there in his city, all for less than it would take for me to do it. So he opted for the rental, and I heaved a heavy sigh of relief to myself, thankful for not having to drive all those hours and all those miles after two hard nights, nearly on a bender status of sobriety. We said goodbyes and my cousin began his journey home, having successfully having one of the best times anyone could have in the Hill Country. 


Monday morning felt worse than the rest. But I scooped myself up, got showered and was parking at work less then 15 minuets later. Record setting pace, done unintentionally. I was just in go mode, I guess. Started my day with a stiff cup of coffee and some breakfast, then proceeded to get to work. After being there for a little over 2 hours, my boss asks to speak with me privately about something. He wanted me to know that this would be my last day and that I should go ahead and pack up my things. Needless to say, I was a little bit more than shocked. No advance warning, no written notices, no two week notice, hell, not even two minute notice. No explanation, no courtesy, no dignity, no due process. Just, "thanks for your time, but your contract has been fulfilled and we no longer need you." I pleaded with my manager for at least a reason, a cause, anything. But he would not say anything real, anything true. Just an endless stream of bullshit that some asshole wrote with about 35 other scenarios that managers-in-training are forced to memorize and regurgitate to ensure that the giant corporate machine keeps on a rollin' along. I made a scene at the smoker's table outside before I left. I was so angry I was shaking. After I recollected myself a little more, I called my recruiter to let him know. He already knew. Got an email earlier in the morning. He told me the reason for my dismissal from that job is because of "unprofessional behavior and comments" and that I dropped the F word. It all stems back to that one single comment uttered late on a Friday afternoon, in a joking manner to his fellow coworkers in the privacy of their isolated room. I followed up with my manager. He told me nothing over the phone, other than one key piece of information: he heard the comment. So now I am out of a job because of a joke gone awry and a rat for a manager. They waited for me to make one mistake and swept me out. I think a big reason is because he and I never worked well together. That was because I never respected him. We worked hard for Steve because he worked hard for us. He defended us. Had our backs, no matter what. This guy was a pompous pushover. A "Yes-Man" with the distinctive smudge of brown across his nose. Thoroughly trained on how to delegate all tasks and responsibilities to others, and if anyone becomes too independent, or strong willed, they take them out. Basically the perfect corporate manager. Invincible ignorance used to gain power and job security. He repeatedly tried telling me what to do when I already knew. I didn't care to listen much considering I had to teach him how to burn a CD.. The only thing he should be managing is a dustpan and a broom. 


So now I'm tied to a brand new 14 month lease, a wedding where I am a groomsman, another wedding where I am the Best Man, a Vegas bachelor party that I am financially obligated to, and no job. Well, no steady job. Still got the gigs, but $900 a month is hard to live on when the majority of that sum goes straight to rent, bills and food almost immediately as I earn it. And honestly, if it weren't for the new place and the weddings, I'd be right beside you on the flight to Bangkok, laughing the whole way. 


Isn't life so strange?!

Thoughts spin like a ferris wheel

it is the season for nostalgia
a time for remembrance
a time for reverence
a time for reveille
thoughts spin like a ferris wheel
memories glow as they turn
but eventually will flicker and fade

while I stroll through the aisles of my mind

and browse the bookmarks left behind

I feel like a kid skipping through the fair

the ground is cold and hard

and so is the frigid night air 

the full moon baths the shadows with radiant beams

illuminating the world even when the sun can't be seen

like the light that I see at the top of the staircase

to the attic of my imagination

the lonely light bulb shining so strong

even a closed door cannot prevent it's cause

so as the nights grow longer 

and we turn farther away from the heat

we activate internally

a preparation for the inevitable 

as Winter approaches
we stock our shelves with what we were
only to emerge again in the Spring
to what we have become from the body's hibernation
we feed off memories as much 
as our organs feed off fuel 
leaving us lean of fat and searching for a new self
this season is sanctuary to my soul
out of the suppression of the Summer's suffocation
while not yet having froze the life out of the soil 
it charges my chakras 
igniting so effortlessly 
like neon filling the florescent tubes of mind's No Vacancy sign
of course longing for the lore of old still looms
but a shred falls along with each dying leaf
leaving nothing but acceptance for what is 
and what could be
so it is time to wake up
as the warmth begins its slumber
and Autumn licks its lips
JC

The Human Axiom

The Golden Rule: "Do unto others as you would want done unto you."

What we live by instead: Do unto others as was done unto you.

This can be a vicious world, but it gets even worse once we forget what power we have to influence it.

Tiny Frogs Bounce in My Dreams

(A WORK IN PROGRESS- May not make sense just yet, but it will soon.)

Tiny frogs bounce in my dreams.

            They're slimy skin, their diminutive shapes.

                             How truly disgusting they seem to be.

            Yet nothing else is bouncing...

Everything else is stuck in place, stagnant & clingy.

            So are the frogs as terrible as they seem?

Tiny frogs bounce in my dreams.

            They hoppity- hop-hop ever closer to me.

                        I repeal so quickly so much farther away.

            My face struck in horror of what things may be.

Why the hell am I so scared of these tiny things?

            What kind of man am I to be so afraid?

No man at all it would seem, I'd say.

            Just a coward afraid of what things may be.  

Tiny frogs bounce in my dreams.

            They bounce here & there; everywhere in between.

                                    They bounce in potential, in hope, & belief.

            They demand I be what I'm afraid to be:

a tiny bouncing frog.

            So free to bounce all over the place.

                          

Graveyard

garlic naan
so strong
I go stiff

gotta shake it
gotta keep movin'
gotta stay swift

pot after pot
drop after drop
absolutely non stop

k-k-kick back another cup
t-t-tick of my jaw, and a
c-c-click of my lighter

what's another smoke?
since I'm already down here
among the walking dead

take a moment to enjoy the breeze
though hot as it may be
coffins hardly allow room to breath

but it's back to the hole
back on the grind
slowly but surely loosing my mind

delusion clocks in for his shift
always nice to have a friend around
during these twilight hours, time drowns

singing Redemption Songs
aching for someone to respond
but by now, I'm too far gone

a few long lonely nights In-hell
might eventually do me well
cause I hardly ever have time to kill

it is such an abstract absurdity; time
but the question still saturates my mind
was it bought and bribed or raped and robbed?
or worse of all, was it all of above that happened to mine?


JC

Placing One Foot In Front of the Other...

My purpose in Thailand is to find my Zen. Connect what things make me feel most passionate, assemble their purposes, & puruse them devoutly. W/ an open heart full of gladness, I'll awaken to hear the sounds of life bursting in bloom all around me.
                    the climate here is stifling. each of us in search of a godhead to have it all make sense for our weary minds in conflict w/ chaos. Acting like a bunch of children, tho only worse. The emotional depths of a flattened road, a dead-end. Fucking toddlers if you ask me. No one's finding meaning in themselves. & it's downright killing me that this is what they want for me as well. Tho I know I was born for something better, & I wasn't taught to compromise upon my integrity. Altho that's all I've ever seen, all I've ever known. That is no matter. I'm the one I need to know & no one else, yet I'd still love to learn. One day, I suppose. When that day is right. 
           So I'm breaking away, owning up to it all, & jetting because that's what makes sense to me- to lose all hope then regain it anew, in a way that will stand firm in conviction.
          Therefore, finding myself breathing life. Aflame. Glorifying what I was sent here to praise openly. Life & the joyful abundance of contended living. For my own sake, not for other's, at least not until I grow to that special point where all I am is able to give lovingly w/out holding back.   
                Then I will know that I have acheived. And that will be all I've ever wanted. All I've ever hoped for.

Life's Lamenting Song

         The end of the best beginnings always feels like death to me.

Now here I am, all alone, in search of a reason to breathe. The bitter taste of the lack of love or                                                                                                                             hope or decency.

                Yet decency is a gift from God, & I am a wicked being.

                                                 The air is now a vacuous cloud, choking me w/ it’s void.

                           And here I am:

                                                all alone.           

                                                        W/out anyone left to give a fuck.

               It’s not that I blame them in the least. I wouldn’t have hope for me either.

            I don’t.    

                        & I’m clinging onto desperation- because it’s all I’ve ever known.

She left me on an Autumn Eve, claiming she had to go.

                                That there was no other choice for her.

                                                        That defeat was all she’d known.

I told her she was never there: SO WHAT THE HELL DOES IT FUCKING MATTER?!!! GO!!!!!!

            She played the role of a victim in her heart & in the end it crushed us both.

                         It was all based upon her fear. The fear I couldn’t save her from.

             And I never felt more abandoned;

                                                  my words rang on a dead tone.

When I screamed at her, I exposed my pain, repulsive in it’s truth.
                   I said to her: “If there’s anything worse than being alone, it’s being alone while being w/ someone else!”

            I laid down my life for the 2 of them. Bashed in my skull w/ a daggered stone.
                    Stretched out desolately among shifting sands, my eyes gushing out a river of blood.
                                  On the beach where I wish I’d been dead-n’-gone. Yet I’m left here to suffer more & more. Each moment grows less bearable as each second surely flows onward into nowhere. 

                                               And still I sit here, asking myself: How could Hell be any worse?

      Oh the godawful torment of life! Does it EVER fucking stop?!!!

              I’ve lived thru my death, a ghost in the flesh. Still he got away a blessed man w/ those he loves.                                                                                                                                                         

                                                         And I’m the one left alone?!!   

            The law of club & fang was cast down upon me.

                                                               I was judged the guilty one.

 So alone here I sit, all alone, pretending I’ll be OK.

                                             Even tho I know that’s a goddamn lie.

               There are no happy endings.

                                                        Simply life’s lamenting song.

THE END