Caffiend

That I have mentioned before that my coffee consumption was rare prior to a move to The Windy City seems quite likely. But one thing I have strived to do is not make myself reliant and thus the terrible person many of us can become without the thing, so often a substance, that we have come to rely upon. This, of course, is related to the everything in moderation rule. And I allege non-reliance in spite of being able to nod off or, at least, wanting to, immediately post cup during the holiday. That I attribute to heavy consumption of carbohydrates and sweets, increased running, and decreased sleeping instead. Why in the Hell do I bring any of this up? Well because I'm seated sipping a cup, perhaps a little too late in the day, but nothing a couple of drinks at dinner can't balance out.

I was thinking not for the first time about the image I project with my haircut, fashion, and also by the places I choose to hang-out. A penchant for a cheap drink at a local establishment that is a true dive and home to derelicts galore—what this says of me, I will not bother to say—is what seems to have gotten me on this particular occasion. As I walked down the street, on the phone mind you, a man walked toward me repeating the word "blow." A lot. "Blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow, blow," and, in case I missed that, a grabbing of the nose to go along with it. I'll admit, it did take me a second to grasp what he was talking about. When he came upon me he was even more direct, "You gotta any blow, man."

"Sorry dude," I had to tell him for I, in fact, never have consumed this powdery nose substance—though this is not the first time I have been taken for one who does—and I really was apologetic.

"Come on, maaaaaaaan," he went on. "I've seen you at ________. Quit holding out on me."

Repeating myself I suggested he make his way to the very place he had seen me, the derelict bar in question. There was more to the exchange, but that seems good enough for now, especially with regard to preserving the anonymity of people and places in question (although it's not as if I know this guy's name). The point, to go along with my reconsidering my image, is to be amused at the way I was looking around with my senses when this occurred, expecting that someone might give a shit about a wasted guy looking for a score from pretty much a total stranger. I am routinely intrigued by how much is going on right around us that we are completely ignorant to.

But image is nothing anyway.

Well, there are the usual things and stuff I've forgotten to mention, but I'm already at the point where I feel as if I may have made this entry long enough. Shout out to the east coast for delicious bagels and the availability of high quality, non-deep dish pizza. Shout out to hills and making me tired as shit while running but I appreciate them for improved fitness. Shout out to the dopey face—complete with open mouth and mildly fear-ridden eyes—some woman just made looking for a seat up in this bitch. And shout out to mistakes via me accidentally ordering a tuna sub the other day! My crusty ass expected the sandwich to have fresh tuna. How would that have been possible when it was cheaper than every sandwich on the menu? Oh cheapness, you are always fooling me.

Old Jersey

Aaaawwwwwwwwwwwwww shit. Whenever I return to the place of my birth and raising I get quite nostalgic, but I also get quite lazy. And they feed each other. It's unreal the amount of crap brimming in my childhood bedroom. If I was a bigger consumer, I might make the classification of hoarder. I've got clothes up in this em eff that I haven't worn in, maybe ever, and yet I'll look at them and think "perhaps in 2015." And the colors on my blog, they've got to be changed. I also realized something, which I realized before but may not have addressed, and that is if you came here only seeing me on twitter you might be surprised at the inconsistency. Where on twitter I stick to quick and terrible puns and rhyming, here I am verbose and blather a lot. Then again, that is what each respective medium is for right? Or something like that.

Do you realize if you add the current month with the current year—using abbreviated date format—that they add to form the day that is today? Of course you do...

How about Radio Shack, am I right? You've got questions, and one includes how they are still in business. After reading their wiki it appears that their days are working towards being numbered? Oh buy Solley, you say, all days are numbered, it's called a calendar...and that's just a call-back to one of my many terrible jokes about being fired.

A few weeks ago I'd decided I would go entirely through my iTunes music library deleting tracks that did not appeal. Part of the problem with this is the mood I might be in, and part of the problem is my same issue with off-loading my old clothes and notebooks and goodness knows what else. But it's been a fun project, even if I'm only at "J," which means at this moment I'm plowing through JJ. I love me some Euro shit, from my strange soccer (or footballer's) mullet, to my fashion preferences, to my love of British comedy and of Russian novelists and, I presume you get the idea.

So it's all good when my family refers to me [mostly] affectionately as Eurotrash. I am stoked for that in two days, as it will be Thanksgiving time. Yes, it needed to be italicized. This has long been my favorite holiday. I like eating, I like pie, and I like my family, so it makes sense. The year also nears its end and the weather is maybe just hanging on to a little bit of warmth. I like to think I'm thankful for how good I have it most of the time, especially more as I age, but I don't mind another official reminder even if I generally grumble (not gobble) at manufactured holidays. Because the truth is, I am really thankful. I've got a good life and maybe everything doesn't come together, but it is about the journey as some of them will say.

I've not really the space here at this point to discuss how ridiculous those buckled hats are. I mean, really, does your head change size that frequently? How we devise and continue and augment traditions is an interesting business.

So I hope you're spending the holiday with family and/or friends. In this rising digital age, let's be glad for the times we can be physically together. I, for one, love getting physical.

Elvis Costello

This is my inaugural blogging effort from the confines of Madison, WI. Incidentally, whenever I think of Madison, I sing it in my head—and sometimes aloud—to the tune of Elvis Costello's Alison. I haven't gotten around to any of the other lyrics because I don't know the original ones, even though I've listened to that track many times. This is good for everyone involved.

As one who has become a big-time coffee shop and house attendee, I have to say there are some pretty good offerings here over in the university section. The university too, is pretty effing beautiful, complete with a somewhat sandy path that runs along one of the two lakes that this part of town isthmuses between. Though I have not been to some of the larger state schools (they're all large), I've been to a few and I don't see how any campus can possibly have as many people wearing gear adorned with university name, emblem, or something of that sort as is the case here. It's a sea of red, though I admit I am likely blinded by proximity.

No need to do a full-on review though since a fellow over at The New York Times just did one, and it covers a decent amount of the stuff. There is no shortage of delicious cheese, in standard, curd, or fried form. And there is no shortage of beer, especially those hoppy IPAs I favor. Madison affords one access to beverages from New Glarus brewing company, which are not distributed outside the state. I'm going on record as saying the famous Spotted Cow is gross. Uh, I mean, it's not for me. Plenty of other good beers though from New Glarus and beyond. Oh, and in further homage to dairy, you can get some damned good ice cream, by which I don't mean that the ice cream is condemned and headed to Hell, but is delicious.

Right now I'm parked about a 100 feet from the Capital Building, as featured/photographed in that linked article, which was apparently down-sized—the building, not the photograph—to be smaller than that in the nation's Capitol, the one that is afforded the distinction and distinct spelling of the Capitol Building. This one is rather gigantic. Many thanks to my tour guide for the bit of history there.

The same fear of boring blogging that has been staring me in the face many of my prior posts is rearing its head again, so I'll be heading along. I am looking over at a guy who has the cup of coffee from So I Married an Axe Murderer and my heart just exploded and vision grew blurred with the thought of consuming that much caffeine. Also just with the fond memories anytime I think of select scenes from that film. Next time I am here, I'll have to order it on principle. What was that about boring? Oh right, you stay safe out there folks.

Nothing Lasts Forever

Even cold November rain. I can't imagine I've never linked that in here before. As usual, though, I'm not going to take the initiative to check. Remember when I was going to go back and label/tag my old posts? Me neither. One day...one day. Plus, being self-referential is pretty narcissistic, you know, like people who quote themselves under favorite quotes on their social media profiles? I'm [trying to be] writing about the giant craphole vortex we're being sucked into with the advent of technology, as usual while using technology, but it isn't going super hot because my brain feels ill-equipped to keep up with the acceleration of technology, and its adoption, while recalling that its adoption is not so universal. With all of this talk about the 99%, what about the percent of the world that really uses the stuff that blogging bastards like me take for granted. I'm one smartphone (and perhaps an iPad) away from being a complete techno-junkie.

On more important matters though, it truly is a bit chilly and rainy today, but not as full-on depressing as this weather can be. It's all about having certain things in mind that are weather-dependent. Tea, hot chocolate, books, movies, cuddly creatures (which can include other humans) are the best thing in my estimation. And of course, a good seasonal soundtrack. And some muthafuckin' snacks, made with muthafuckin' real butter and real sugar.

If you want truly depressing and terrifying or just deeply disturbing as I referred to it recently (which is awfully self-referential of me), take a look at not just reality TV, but the Disney channel. And then take a look at the fact that you are taking a look at it. Of course, in order to criticize, it generally proves essential to be familiar with what it is you are criticizing. A chum of mine has a habit of watching America's Got The Voice of Idol (idle) X Factor Talent and he will give me the rundown on the best of. Some of these folks are indeed very talented, but much more of it is simply frightening. The attempted earnestness with which the judges deliver their verdicts on the fate of these acts may indeed be the toughest for me to come to grips with. Nobody likes being rejected, but it's part of life and that's how we learn to both grow and determine too if we really want to do a thing. Everyone's been rejected from one thing or another at some point in their life. That's just the way it is or, more succinctly, that's the way it is.

That I am meant to feel more compassion for the person who might be a bit tone deaf (and this from someone who is not much of a singer) than, for instance the guy who can't earn enough money to feed his family, seems pretty off-balance to me. I'm all for distraction from certain of the world's ills or I wouldn't watch TV, read books, write stories, or attempt to tell jokes, but there's a line, a mothafuckin' line. Incidentally, this may be the most profanity-laden post of my blogger tenure.

Anyway, as seems to be the case far too often these days, I find my blogging a bit on the preachy side, a bit beyond the standard realm of traditional gripes. Where is the goofy light-heartedness with which I began? I mean, I'm getting old but not that old. I leave you all with a pretty great recent moment in Canadian newscasting. It's a long link but, I think, worth the time.

Right.