Polishing off a few old songs lately, thought I'd share one with you today.
"Midland Street West"
See the cars that are parked along Midland Street
Hear the sounds of laughter, music, conversation
Walk on by, never knowing the people
In the house on the corner
Where the lights stay on all night
If you walk along the sidewalks of your mind
You may find yourself on Midland Street West
Where the door to the house on the corner
Open to a friend
But don't look them in the eyes
And you dreamed you were a disciple of Christ
He was turnin' the water into wine
And you thought you could walk on the water
So you tried...
Wednesday nights on Midland Street West
Where the sacraments are weed and wine
And the sacrifice is fuel to feed the fire
That burns away the sadness
And reminds you of your dreams
And you dream of perfect circles
Figure eights on their sides
And a world without beginning or ending
Only night
On Midland Street West
Are you feeling the winds of war hard against your back?
Are you remembering how she said she would come back?
Are you waiting on the Second Coming?
Or do you wish you were still at Midland Street West?
6.29.2009
6.28.2009
The "I Remember" Series
For there shall come a day when I WON'T remember...
I REMEMBER...that there were three stores where I bought record albums as a kid (when I was between 8 & 16 years old). Drury's Variety, Gibson's and Cook's (none of which, it must be noted, have been in business for several years.
Drury's was on main street in the small town I grew up in, so it's to be expected that they had the skimpiest selection of the three. The first album I ever bought was from there: the self-titled debut of The Partridge Family . I know, I know...cut me some slack...I was only 8 or 9 years old...I probably thought they were a real family and road around in a real bus and wrote their own songs and recored them...I'm sure it didn't seem so far fetched to me. The first 45 RPM single I bought there was one of those early Carpenters hits..."Only Just Begun" or "For All We Know"...I tend to think it was the latter, because I loved those harmony choruses. Other seminal purchases I made there include "Bloodrock 2", "I Hear You Knockin" (Dave Edmunds) and "What Is Life" (George Harrison), both singles. In fact I bought a lot of those early Beatle solo singles there.
As for Gibsons...it was a variety store that could have been the prototype for Wal-Mart. They had a pretty good selection of records in two long bins you had to pass through on the way to the grocery section. I was hesitant to buy from them because I had a lot of problems with warped albums from there. But my folks went there fairly often so if I could beg them out of 4 or 5 bucks I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to add another disc to my collection while there. Case in point...I got at least two terribly warped copies of Alice Cooper's "Billion Dollar Babies" from there. That was a real bitch, too, cuz I couldn't wait to hear it (I thought Alice was "the man" when I was a kid). But, other than the Cooper album, I can't really remember what else I got there.
Cook's was like a department store without the emphasis on clothing. I always liked it best and not only for it's fantastic record section. It was a fairly big store and when we were very young my brother and I would walk around speaking gibberish to each other, hoping that someone would hear us and think we were foreigners. Getting back to the record albums...I don't think I ever had a problem with defective vinyl with anything I bought at Cook's. The bulk of my collection came from there. I got my Stones' albums, my Beatles, all that stuff at Cook's, but two purchases stand out in my memory...
The first was a 2-LP set from David Bowie called "Images". It was a re-packaging of Bowie's earliest recordings (some even recorded under his own given name, David Jones). I had become interested in checking him out after reading several articles about him in Rock Scene magazine. Of course this old stuff was hardly representative of the music he was becoming famous for...nothing like "Ziggy Stardust" or "Aladdin Sane". But for all that I was very fond of those older songs. All of that material can now be found on "The Deram Anthology", which I listen to every now and again. It still stands up pretty well against his later work, IMO.
The other was another repackaging, this time of Genesis' classic albums "Nursery Cryme" and "Foxtrot". The Buddha record label had bought the rights to distribute the material in the USA so they put together this 2 album set and called it "The Best: Genesis" (there were other artists in the "The Best" series, but I don't remember any of them. I was already on my way to becoming a hardcore fan, having been blown away by an appearance they did on a music performance television show called The Mignight Special. I had even bought their live album at Gibson's. I think I may have played this Genesis set more than anything else I had at the time.
So, my computer is trying to tell that it's battery is running low, so I guess I should get this posted. More "I Remember" entries to come.
I REMEMBER...that there were three stores where I bought record albums as a kid (when I was between 8 & 16 years old). Drury's Variety, Gibson's and Cook's (none of which, it must be noted, have been in business for several years.
Drury's was on main street in the small town I grew up in, so it's to be expected that they had the skimpiest selection of the three. The first album I ever bought was from there: the self-titled debut of The Partridge Family . I know, I know...cut me some slack...I was only 8 or 9 years old...I probably thought they were a real family and road around in a real bus and wrote their own songs and recored them...I'm sure it didn't seem so far fetched to me. The first 45 RPM single I bought there was one of those early Carpenters hits..."Only Just Begun" or "For All We Know"...I tend to think it was the latter, because I loved those harmony choruses. Other seminal purchases I made there include "Bloodrock 2", "I Hear You Knockin" (Dave Edmunds) and "What Is Life" (George Harrison), both singles. In fact I bought a lot of those early Beatle solo singles there.
As for Gibsons...it was a variety store that could have been the prototype for Wal-Mart. They had a pretty good selection of records in two long bins you had to pass through on the way to the grocery section. I was hesitant to buy from them because I had a lot of problems with warped albums from there. But my folks went there fairly often so if I could beg them out of 4 or 5 bucks I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to add another disc to my collection while there. Case in point...I got at least two terribly warped copies of Alice Cooper's "Billion Dollar Babies" from there. That was a real bitch, too, cuz I couldn't wait to hear it (I thought Alice was "the man" when I was a kid). But, other than the Cooper album, I can't really remember what else I got there.
Cook's was like a department store without the emphasis on clothing. I always liked it best and not only for it's fantastic record section. It was a fairly big store and when we were very young my brother and I would walk around speaking gibberish to each other, hoping that someone would hear us and think we were foreigners. Getting back to the record albums...I don't think I ever had a problem with defective vinyl with anything I bought at Cook's. The bulk of my collection came from there. I got my Stones' albums, my Beatles, all that stuff at Cook's, but two purchases stand out in my memory...
The first was a 2-LP set from David Bowie called "Images". It was a re-packaging of Bowie's earliest recordings (some even recorded under his own given name, David Jones). I had become interested in checking him out after reading several articles about him in Rock Scene magazine. Of course this old stuff was hardly representative of the music he was becoming famous for...nothing like "Ziggy Stardust" or "Aladdin Sane". But for all that I was very fond of those older songs. All of that material can now be found on "The Deram Anthology", which I listen to every now and again. It still stands up pretty well against his later work, IMO.
The other was another repackaging, this time of Genesis' classic albums "Nursery Cryme" and "Foxtrot". The Buddha record label had bought the rights to distribute the material in the USA so they put together this 2 album set and called it "The Best: Genesis" (there were other artists in the "The Best" series, but I don't remember any of them. I was already on my way to becoming a hardcore fan, having been blown away by an appearance they did on a music performance television show called The Mignight Special. I had even bought their live album at Gibson's. I think I may have played this Genesis set more than anything else I had at the time.
So, my computer is trying to tell that it's battery is running low, so I guess I should get this posted. More "I Remember" entries to come.
6.23.2009
6.22.2009
6.21.2009
"Charlie's Vision"
Charlie was not Grant's typical client. At the age of 10 he claimed to have visions. He called them prophecies but was always quick to point out that they were certainly not on a biblical scale. Now, at the age of 32, he had won the trust and devotion of the very same church that once ostracized him as a heretic, a rebellious teen with delusions of the priest hood.
These issues, and more, were being worked out through a controversial new behavioral technique, Stellar Discomfort Photographic Memory Process (or SDPMP). Many times he would fall into a trance during treatment and it was during these times of semi-consciousness that Dr. Grant began to gain enlightenment as to the possible meanings of the dreams. The symbolism, which had once driven him to despair, seemed now to be laid out like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, ready to be placed into the context of the bigger picture.
He showed up that morning in ratty blue jeans and a t-shirt, which featured the logo of Judas Priest. Grant could tell he was miserable. It was not hard to see that he could tell he was cold because his skin was all prickly and shit. Goose bumps or something like them. No doubt his nipples were hard as pellets. He stank of a 7 day marathon of not bathing, but the doctor didn't seem to mind.
"Have a seat, Charlie. Tell me, is it true what they say about Sarah T? Is she really a teenage adolescent alcoholic?"
Charlie suppressed a grin. "She is at that, old gem," he said. "This coming from what I would consider to be a somewhat reliable source, she has done gone developed a taste for hard spirits. Her parents don't know a damn thing. She's thinkin' some hard thoughts about maybe doing some things she might have at one time made a commitment and/or a vow to the Lord not to do, but they always knew there would come one day. Well, here that day is, and I'll be god damned if I'm gonna sit back and let you tell me I don't know what I'm talking about."
"It's okay. It's more than I knew, that's for sure..."
"That's not what I came here for, and you know it."
"Oh, yeah? What do I know? Why are you here?"
"I'm your patient. That's right, Doctor Bill Grant, I am the man who pays you to get into his mind...I am the man who expects to get a large return on my investment...My insurance has paid for the swimming pool in your back yard. I'm here because it's my turn to be prodded. I am pretty sure I need it this time. You've been paid, now let's get this cheap ass carnival van on the road."
"Very well," Grant conceded. "Have you had a vision since I last saw you?"
Charlie barely hesitated.
"I did...I did and you know it." He settled in.
"There is fire in the sky, and an explosion that knocks me back. I see things now from the perspective of a god. From nowhere, from extinction, a brave buffalo materializes into space. He swerves to the right, into the white light. On his back, perched as a dominatrix, rides the raven, the dark carrion crow, croaking out death rattle to warn the flock...'You're flying in the wrong direction! Turn around! Turn around! You are flying into a radioactive fire!!!' But they don't seem to hear. They don't seem to see what's directly in front of them...birds, black birds, big black birds, big bad black birds, one by one, follow the leader into the nuclear sized black hole!
"The buffalo doesn't care. He doesn't seem to give one whit of a damn about the situation he's found himself in. He may not even know that a demonic bird is riding his furry hump back."
"Is this all?" I asked, knowing full well that if it WERE we'd still have more than we can handle. More right now would be too much of a burden to bear.
"Actually there were a couple more things, I may have just glimpsed 'em before I woke up, but they seem clear to me now," he said. "That there buffalo was a mighty find specimen of a buffalo. But he didn't seem quite real because he was running on a table...a table with many esoteric symbols carved into the wood."
Not one of his more extreme visions, to be sure. But Bill Grant was determined to gain a thorough understanding of this one. Even if it meant losing one of the fingers on his right hand.
These issues, and more, were being worked out through a controversial new behavioral technique, Stellar Discomfort Photographic Memory Process (or SDPMP). Many times he would fall into a trance during treatment and it was during these times of semi-consciousness that Dr. Grant began to gain enlightenment as to the possible meanings of the dreams. The symbolism, which had once driven him to despair, seemed now to be laid out like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, ready to be placed into the context of the bigger picture.
He showed up that morning in ratty blue jeans and a t-shirt, which featured the logo of Judas Priest. Grant could tell he was miserable. It was not hard to see that he could tell he was cold because his skin was all prickly and shit. Goose bumps or something like them. No doubt his nipples were hard as pellets. He stank of a 7 day marathon of not bathing, but the doctor didn't seem to mind.
"Have a seat, Charlie. Tell me, is it true what they say about Sarah T? Is she really a teenage adolescent alcoholic?"
Charlie suppressed a grin. "She is at that, old gem," he said. "This coming from what I would consider to be a somewhat reliable source, she has done gone developed a taste for hard spirits. Her parents don't know a damn thing. She's thinkin' some hard thoughts about maybe doing some things she might have at one time made a commitment and/or a vow to the Lord not to do, but they always knew there would come one day. Well, here that day is, and I'll be god damned if I'm gonna sit back and let you tell me I don't know what I'm talking about."
"It's okay. It's more than I knew, that's for sure..."
"That's not what I came here for, and you know it."
"Oh, yeah? What do I know? Why are you here?"
"I'm your patient. That's right, Doctor Bill Grant, I am the man who pays you to get into his mind...I am the man who expects to get a large return on my investment...My insurance has paid for the swimming pool in your back yard. I'm here because it's my turn to be prodded. I am pretty sure I need it this time. You've been paid, now let's get this cheap ass carnival van on the road."
"Very well," Grant conceded. "Have you had a vision since I last saw you?"
Charlie barely hesitated.
"I did...I did and you know it." He settled in.
"There is fire in the sky, and an explosion that knocks me back. I see things now from the perspective of a god. From nowhere, from extinction, a brave buffalo materializes into space. He swerves to the right, into the white light. On his back, perched as a dominatrix, rides the raven, the dark carrion crow, croaking out death rattle to warn the flock...'You're flying in the wrong direction! Turn around! Turn around! You are flying into a radioactive fire!!!' But they don't seem to hear. They don't seem to see what's directly in front of them...birds, black birds, big black birds, big bad black birds, one by one, follow the leader into the nuclear sized black hole!
"The buffalo doesn't care. He doesn't seem to give one whit of a damn about the situation he's found himself in. He may not even know that a demonic bird is riding his furry hump back."
"Is this all?" I asked, knowing full well that if it WERE we'd still have more than we can handle. More right now would be too much of a burden to bear.
"Actually there were a couple more things, I may have just glimpsed 'em before I woke up, but they seem clear to me now," he said. "That there buffalo was a mighty find specimen of a buffalo. But he didn't seem quite real because he was running on a table...a table with many esoteric symbols carved into the wood."
Not one of his more extreme visions, to be sure. But Bill Grant was determined to gain a thorough understanding of this one. Even if it meant losing one of the fingers on his right hand.
6.19.2009
6.17.2009
A couple of random thoughts and such.
First off, I think the time has finally come for me and my family to boycott Wal-Mart. I can't count the number of times I've bought defective merchandise there. A re-packaged home theater system, a CD Walkman that never worked, fucked up portable stereo systems, the list goes on. But what are you gonna do? You think it's the only place you can really save money and get everything you need in one stop. Well, no more. I'll just have to see how much extra money I'll have to spend and how many places I'll have to go to buy what I need. It won't be Wal-Mart. The straw that broke the camel's back was a box of "Black Angus steak burgers that were gristly as hell. I can't stand that. We've been buying these things for a long time...we grill them and eat them like steaks...and they've always been excellent. But the ones we tried to eat last night were awful. There's another box in the freezer, too, so I can only hope that it won't be more of the same. You say it's not Wal-Mart's fault that I got a bad box of meat? Maybe not. But it's the Wally World GV brand and I expected no less than what I've had in the past (these things are not cheap). Furthermore, we purchased a charcoal griller and only two of the four legs were in the box. God, that's frustrating when you take something out of the box to assemble and find out that there are parts missing. We're just really sick of Wal-Mart. It's such a boring place to shop. Same layout in every store, same old brands stocked, on and on and on. It's time for a change.
I took the family to Pops Monday afternoon. Pops is a restaurant/convenience store in Arcadia that offers more than 500 varieties of soda pop. The selection is staggering. The food is pretty good, too. It took a long time for us to choose our six pack of specialty sodas, but we eventually did. Stacie got a green apple and a raspberry soda (both of which were very good). Bryan picked a grape pop and something called black lemonade. The grape was okay, but I didn't like the black stuff at all. As for me, I picked up a Faygo Rock & Rye, which I used to get in the late 80s. I also chose an Avery birch beer and it was fantastic. I may be going back this weekend and even though I really want to sample a lot of different kinds, I think I'll have to get another one of those birch beers.
Today has been rough. The heat was miserable. I had medication clinic, and that's never fun. To top it all off, the little black girl who counted my pills made the implication that I wasn't taking them. She did that last month, too, only that time she came right out and said she thought I wasn't taking them. She's not the regular "pill-counter", only filling in for the guy who usually does it but has, for whatever reason, not been there the last couple of months. I let it slide last month, but I got a little huffy with her today. I was like, "I don't mean to sound hostile, but last week you accused me of not taking them and I'm not gonna stand for that...if you knew what I'd gone through that got me on those pills in the first place you wouldn't be worrying about whether I was taking them or not." She puts on this really sweet act, but she's actually quite condescending. At any rate, it spoiled my mood, which wasn't real good in the first place. My mind became flooded with thoughts about how fucked up I must be to have to even go to this place. One thought led to another and before you know it I have this hopeless feeling and all I want to do is go home, get in bed, turn on some music and try to forget about everything.
First off, I think the time has finally come for me and my family to boycott Wal-Mart. I can't count the number of times I've bought defective merchandise there. A re-packaged home theater system, a CD Walkman that never worked, fucked up portable stereo systems, the list goes on. But what are you gonna do? You think it's the only place you can really save money and get everything you need in one stop. Well, no more. I'll just have to see how much extra money I'll have to spend and how many places I'll have to go to buy what I need. It won't be Wal-Mart. The straw that broke the camel's back was a box of "Black Angus steak burgers that were gristly as hell. I can't stand that. We've been buying these things for a long time...we grill them and eat them like steaks...and they've always been excellent. But the ones we tried to eat last night were awful. There's another box in the freezer, too, so I can only hope that it won't be more of the same. You say it's not Wal-Mart's fault that I got a bad box of meat? Maybe not. But it's the Wally World GV brand and I expected no less than what I've had in the past (these things are not cheap). Furthermore, we purchased a charcoal griller and only two of the four legs were in the box. God, that's frustrating when you take something out of the box to assemble and find out that there are parts missing. We're just really sick of Wal-Mart. It's such a boring place to shop. Same layout in every store, same old brands stocked, on and on and on. It's time for a change.
I took the family to Pops Monday afternoon. Pops is a restaurant/convenience store in Arcadia that offers more than 500 varieties of soda pop. The selection is staggering. The food is pretty good, too. It took a long time for us to choose our six pack of specialty sodas, but we eventually did. Stacie got a green apple and a raspberry soda (both of which were very good). Bryan picked a grape pop and something called black lemonade. The grape was okay, but I didn't like the black stuff at all. As for me, I picked up a Faygo Rock & Rye, which I used to get in the late 80s. I also chose an Avery birch beer and it was fantastic. I may be going back this weekend and even though I really want to sample a lot of different kinds, I think I'll have to get another one of those birch beers.
Today has been rough. The heat was miserable. I had medication clinic, and that's never fun. To top it all off, the little black girl who counted my pills made the implication that I wasn't taking them. She did that last month, too, only that time she came right out and said she thought I wasn't taking them. She's not the regular "pill-counter", only filling in for the guy who usually does it but has, for whatever reason, not been there the last couple of months. I let it slide last month, but I got a little huffy with her today. I was like, "I don't mean to sound hostile, but last week you accused me of not taking them and I'm not gonna stand for that...if you knew what I'd gone through that got me on those pills in the first place you wouldn't be worrying about whether I was taking them or not." She puts on this really sweet act, but she's actually quite condescending. At any rate, it spoiled my mood, which wasn't real good in the first place. My mind became flooded with thoughts about how fucked up I must be to have to even go to this place. One thought led to another and before you know it I have this hopeless feeling and all I want to do is go home, get in bed, turn on some music and try to forget about everything.
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