blood on the tracks

Election

I haven't had time to post in awhile. I've been working nearly non stop on the election. Ohio is so close that it's going to come down to turnout so I'm out trying to make sure Kerry supporters get out there. If you'd like to help let me know.

Friday AM

I'm off to Niches this afternoon. Got a boxing session at 11AM before I go.

I went and saw The Briefs last night at Bernie's. They were great as always. I liked the LA shows better but that mostly has to do with it not being Bernie's.

My friend Steve's relentless Russell teasing goes on. Funny....

Just finshed a great book. The Inner Circle by TC Boyle. He is an amazing author. His ability to totally create worlds and populate them with realistic characters is outstanding. His last book Drop City was about a group of hippies and the Inner Circle is about the famous "Kinsey Reports". There seems to be nothing he can't write. And his short stories are excellent.

Not much else to add I guess.

The shortcomings of cellphones and how procrasitination landed me in the slammer

"I fight authority...
Authority always wins"

Cougar/Mellencamp

I'm a jackass. Let's get that on the record now. If there was an emoticon that pictured twin donkey ears I’d insert it here. Everything that follows is no one's fault but mine.

I got a traffic ticket a ways back that I mostly forgot about. And when I did think about it I was traveling or broke. I scheduled this Friday off work to go take care of it because...you see my license had been revoked and a bench warrant out for my arrest.

Lovely, 34 yrs old and still with bench warrants.

So I’m driving home last night through Worthington. Driving slowly, because I'm concerned of course…just let me get to Friday.

I see a police office turn around behind me and start following. I'm nervous of course but I know I wasn't speeding. I turn into my little complex of 12 condos and on go the sirens.

"Shit"

Pulls into my complex sirens a blazing:

"License, registration, proof of insurance please. Do you know why I stopped you?"

Cause it's a cruel and godless universe I offer...in my head

"No officer, I don't"

Did I mention I'm pulled up in front of my house? 10ft away is the front door. Adrienne is inside waiting for me. I'm sure she's nervous as hell by now. But I still hold out hope...this is Worthington, I'm at my house, it's just a traffic violation, I'm a decent guy.

When the other four police cars roll in I know that things have taken a definite turn for the worse. My neighbor, who I had just seen with her four kids 10 minutes ago at the grocery, comes rolling to find the driveway blocked by police cars...sirens flashing.

"Please step out of the car sir"

Frisked, felt up and cuffed. Uh...does anyone remember it's a traffic ticket?

Led back to the car put in the backseat, hands still cuffed behind me. Ever try and sit down with your hands, palms together, cuffed together? That's why everyone you see in the backseat of a police car is leaning forward. And here I always thought it was anticipation.

It's important to note that I am in pretty good spirits considering. I have years of training in the "grant me serenity to accept the things I can't change" school and this was definitely out of control. Plus you screw up enough in life you start to get used to it. And as has often been said, laughter and humor is medicine to the absurdity and suffering of life.

So it becomes clear that they are taking me downtown. For awhile they said maybe I could just pay them. But nope I got to go down. Now here I sit cuffed, hands falling asleep thinking...crap. But I’m trying to consider it an experience. I hear that that Adrienne can come bail me out. And I’m thinking.....bail? bail? that goes with......jail?? (Rhymes also)

So we sit with lights flashing for 30 minutes for the entire neighborhood. Thinking I have to tell Jordan cause the neighbor kids will if I don’t. At one point, as the officer fills out the mountain of paperwork I say:

“Uh…I’d be glad to drive while you fill those out officer”

Hoping for a joke…some rapport….wait for reaction.

Laughter. Okay, things improving. Maybe he’ll make this go fast when we are there. We chat most of the way down and slowly it emerges that indeed he is taking me to the county jail where I will be admitted. And he has no idea how it works. None at all. But we have a nice conversation. I at one point mention that I am getting nervous. I also add:

“if I end up here for 20 days and get beaten and raped I’m going to feel much less friendly towards you.”

I also ask him if from one cop to another he can tell these folks I’ve been a decent fellow, he’ll try he says. We pull up to the County Jail garage, he announces a drop off and up goes the door and then down behind us. Small room with maintenance equipment, ladders.

My brain helpfully pipes in, “you know they could beat you here. No one would know. They could fuck you with a broomstick”. Easy big guy, easy. And I’m laughing a bit as I say it.

I’d like to tell you that having a bit of a past in this regard and with my boxing prowess (ha) that I’m not nervous. But truth is I am, not terribly…not scared but apprehensive.

In we go to a roomful of chaos. Reminded me of the scenes in an ER show where they roll you in through the doors and all sorts of shit is going on. Men lined up on benches, officers all over, yelling from here and there. Locking doors and holding tanks. Yep this is jail alright.

“Come up to the counter, take off your shoes and socks, spread wide and put your hands on the counter.” A more thorough frisk than the last one.

“Follow me please”

Ok….I follow to the…clothing room? No, surely not. Yes.

Now it starts to get weirder. I walk into the clothing room and am asked to strip. And as I’m doing it the cop across the counter is yelling “One one thousand, two one thousand….counting fast. Now I don’t know what number I’m supposed to get this done under. Then of course as I get to the pants I warn the man:

”I don’t wear underwear” No reaction….
”nine one thousand…ten one”

So they always warn you to wear clean underwear. “What if you’re in a crash?” What if you were driving home from the store, then an hour later you are standing naked in the clothing room of the local jail with no underwear? There’s no pithy maxim or advice for that that I’m aware of.

Then he hands me my new “clothes”….I doubt that’s what they call them. Uniform? Salmon colored sandals, a pretty nice pair of blue slightly denim-ish pants. They fit well. Hell I’d wear these on the streets, if I ever get free….lol.

Make my one phone call…to Adrienne. She is on her way to post bail, shouldn’t be long now.

Then it’s to the holding cell. I’m terrible with size but let’s just leave it at the room wasn’t real big, about 8 of us in there. Usual jailhouse situation (really I’m no expert but the basic principles are easy to grasp. And the basic principle is, as far as I can tell: “GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE”. )

So with the police I’m trying to be this friendly, professional suburban guy so they won’t put me in here. Now I’m thinking, time for a change of role. Most of the guys are staring off into space, not wanting to be noticed or bothered. A few guys bantering on with the usual…

”what you in here for?”

“Hell if that was my charges I’d be fucking glad. Happy, I’d do a fucking jig…motherfucker…(bob hands around like a rapper). They got me at my girl’s house…fucking 247 days on the shelf. I don’t care…fuck em motherfuckers”

Jittery, semi elderly, black crack addict interjects here and there with mostly indecipherable jabber. I can occasionally pick out “stem” “lighter” “fucking make a party of this joint”

Next to me is a truly old man…drunk,scruffy, probably homeless who wakes up periodically and says something.

“Motherfucker over there…” Pointing at old drunk “he got an open container charge, fuck $45 and he’s out. Shit man…that’s fucking (hand simulates action) a jerk off charge. I got fucking 247 days on the fucking shelf” He’s bobbing and weaving walking around. If there’s anyone to worry about in here it’s him. But I’m not ignoring him. I’m engaging, making a friend…I hope. But I’ll be out any minute. The door will open.

Drag me out to put on the wrist band with my mug shot. Nice. I’ll send that home for the holidays. As the female officer leads me back into the holding cell I ask her casually:

“If someone is posting bond now how long should it take”

In my head I’m thinking an hour at worst…

“6 to 8 hours”

Huh? What…why that’s 4AM or 6 AM...why….that’s all night. Figuring screaming or crying wasn’t going to get me high respect marks from my homies, I settle back into the cell. Now it’s a whole new ballgame. An hour is almost fun. Check the folks out, think about what a laugh this will be when Chris, Jon and Adrienne and I have a drink later.

8 hours is another thing entirely. In this room? Turns out no….off we go. I am handed my plastic cup, with toothbrush, toothpaste and, to drive home the overnight thing, a blanket. Loaded on the elevator, taken up to the cell block. Oh, did I mention…..this is a traffic ticket? Our hard earned tax dollars at work.

The cell block is about 12 cells in a row and a walkway in front of them with a TV on the other side of the bars, a few phones. I find my “cell” and settle in for a second. I’m feeling as relieved as you can about an unforseen night in jail because at least with a cell I’ve got a place to be alone, lay down, weep for my mother…that kind of thing. Really though as I mentioned I’m in good spirits. But I’m a little concerned about all night, because I can’t sleep with any disturbances. My son coughs in the other room and I’m up. So sleep seems unlikely.

I’ll make some phone calls. Chat with my friends. Tell Adrienne I’m ok. I’m sure she’s freaking if they told her I’d be in for 8 hours. I’m ok…I’m fine but she doesn’t know. I almost feel worse for her.

Collect calls only….ok. You must dial the number and then type in your case number lightening fast. Takes me a few try’s to get it.

“This number is restricted”

Shit. Try Jon’s….

“This number is…” Shit, hang up. Of course, cell phones don’t take collect calls and everyone I know has a cell phone. They don’t have home phones and if they do I have no idea the number. Oh I love cell phones in general. Think they are helpful, useful but someone needs to do something about this. Where was Verizon when I needed them? “Still working….my ass”

Well let’s go watch some TV. It’s harder to see with bars in the way. And in jail, even in jail with nothing else to do TV sucks and I leave after a few minutes figuring I’ll come back and watch Conan in an hour or so.

Back to the cell, I need to sleep. I’m tired, slept terribly the night before. Lie down and pull my blanket up and try. Nope…back up. Brush teeth, drink water. Lay back down.

The conversation on my head:

“Om mani padme hung” (trying to meditate a bit, maybe fall asleep and avoid thoughts like..)

“ What if you are stuck here for days”
“ No you’ll be out soon”
“God my bed would be nice, Adrienne there.”
“Om mani padme hung”
drifting….SLAM…

Some unknown noise. Back to it…

“Om mani padme hung”
“I hope Chris, Jon and Adrienne are out having a drink and making a toast. “To Eric getting out of the slammer”. Smile. Put it in the book.
“God I can’t afford this. I’m such an idiot. Got to pay Jordan’s school…”
“Om mani padme hung”
Drifting…

You get the idea. Time 11:15…expected release time 4-6AM. Sigh…

Up and walk. Back to bed….

Back in bed….mind still all over. Writing a song in my head titled aptly enough “Hey Hey I did it again”

“Om mani padme hung”
Drifting….

“ZIMMER……ZIMMER.”

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”
William Shakespeare

My ass sweet ass William….Oh how sweet the sound of your own name. A sound like no other.

Officer says: “rgwgrwrgwrgwgg” (Imagine peanuts teacher voice except yelled by a jailer.

“Grab your mat, all your stuff”

Out we go. I ask, just to be sure: “I’m going home?”

“Yeah”

Back down to the main room. Back to the clothes room…change clothes, gather my things.

“Any chance of me keeping this pretty bracelet so I can hang it up as a reminder not to be a jackass?”

Nope, of course not. Led out one door. Waiting in front of the other to open. Out into a small lobby…see the exit door. And outside...sweet fresh air. Light mist…reasonable temperature, dark but it’s outside. I can walk, use my phone, and go get food. Call Adrienne. She’s on her way.

Get the run down on the bail bondsman she had to get. We have to go by and get my picture taken. He’s not there. Back to my house, and I’ll be damned if you don’t feel like some sort of party or celebration getting out of jail but it’s late. We hang out, I toast being out of jail. And my bed does feel good…..so good…so good.

“I fight authority, authority always wins
I fight authority, authority always wins
I been doing it, since I was a young kid
I’ve come out grinnin’

Why some conservatives can't endorse Bush

In fairness they can't endorse Kerry either but it is very telling to see a conservative newspaper that has always endorsed the Republican candidate except for one time, choose not to endorse Bush. Their reasons are interesting and worth a read. Because for once it's not from people with dramatically different views or people that hate Bush and are willing to forgo honest debate for extremism. Yes, liberals I mean you...I mean us. We are as guilty as the right in polarizing the country. It's not good for anyone. So it's good to see articles like this.

Give me a fruitful error anytime, full of seeds, bursting with its own corrections.

- Vilfredo Pareto

Updates

Back at work after being on the road 3 of the last 4 weeks. Although with the weather outside I'm ready to go back to Florida. Although there is always something slightly comfortable about listening to good music, drinking something warm and looking out the window as it rains. So grey.....so so grey.

Went to Niches this weekend. It was so good to be back there even though it was cold. It was a gathering to honor Lou and all he has done. I'm going back next weekend to act as a site coordinator. I'm so excited to have a whole weekend there in the fall. It has been too long. My last overnight visit was with Jordan and Adrienne and Damian and it was fun but not the same relaxing, thought changing experience it normally is.

I've also got Jordan and I signed up to spend a weekend there in November.

It will never be the same without Lou but it will have to do. (Ryhme just flows from me.)

If you have no idea what Niches is go look at the site. It won't make much sense because it is largely indescribable. I had heard lot's of people rave about it in these semi mystical terms. And I figured, yeah yeah yeah I'm sure it's nice, some cabins in the woods.

Then I went there when I a relationship ended. I was supposed to go to DC with her and it ended the day before so I had the time and I was feeling distraught. So I called up down there and went all by myself.

It's hard to explain how transformative two nights there could be. But I left a new man. And from then on I became obsessed with getting there as often as possible. I was there nearly every other weekend for awhile. Took Jordan with me a few times. Fell in love with the place and with Lou. Talk about your father figures......I went there alone weekend after weekend and really got more comfortable with me to use a dumb cliche. (Another ryhme?)

I got involved as a consultant and tried to help keep it open but the financial issues were too great. Lou got sick with luekemia again and the place closed for awhile. Thanks to the hard work of some very dedicated people they have got it open again. It's different, without Lou and his cooking, wisdom and comfort. But the connection to a place, the sense of nature and the very otherwordly sense of well being I get there remains.

So about the studio session at Workbook. I think it came out great. I'm very happy with the two songs we got done and we all had a great time. We all had fun being together and it worked wonderful. For a band that hadn't played in 6+ years we brought the rock...;)

Oh also....I'm so excited....but I have a boxing lesson on Friday. I'm making an effort to return to boxing. We'll see....

And the Exploding Hearts are amazing.

Ranting

Yes...this is going to be ranting.

At this conference....sometimes I truly feel like I must be selling my soul. I can handle all the gladhanding, all then cold calls, all the discussion. But the bands that they get to play the big "event" destroy me. I feel violated. Where do they dig these folks up? How can you take "My Girl" and reduce it to nothingness. Suck every bit of energy out of it. So I go next door to the next conference and their band and I hear a band doing a version of Jumping Jack Flash that even my sweet grandma in her grave could rock harder. I'm at the point where i'd take the worst of the Bernie's punk rock bands. Give me anything that resembles real feeling, real heart, real soul. Fuck.....

This is the sort of thing that makes me want to go drink whiskey...until I actually think it's tolerable.

Like the Sky Bar in Miami....I had to leave and go sit by the ocean for something real.

And the killer is that everyone there, my colleagues think it's fine. Think it's good. I feel so out of place sometimes.

Makes me want to really take the guitars away from these guys. And the sad thing is they can play much "better" than I can. Part of it has to be Florida.....the most souless state in America.

Ok...back to the agony....;)

Quick update

I'm in Clearwater Beach for another conference. Not much time to write.

Online blackjack pioneer Rob McGarvey passed away due to complications from surgery. Rob was kind, gracious, giving and moral in a business filled with greed, deception and malice. I'm never forget my suprise when he did what he said he would do.

I don't mean to turn this site into an ongoing obituary but as of late......

And I'll write more about it later but for now let's just say thanks to Jon Chinn at Workbook Studio for his dedication on Sunday.

Keir

The new update is that she died of a "hemorrhagic pneumonia "

Reading the obits section it becomes so clear that no one should die that young. Surrounded by 80 year olds. That old saying that a parent should never outlive a child means a whole lot more to me now that I have Jordan. I haven't see Janet or Roger in awhile but my heart goes out to them.

My ex, Jennifer, is telling Jordan today about Keir's passing. I wonder how he will react.

Obituary

Online Guestbook

For crying out loud....

I'm sure everyone and their brother is blogging about this new report on the weapons of mass destruction report.

I've got to hand it to Bush. The guy truly never does waver. Of course neither did the Emperor in Star Wars and see what it got him. But the Bush folks are amazing. They take a report that says that everything they said was basically wrong or HUGELY over exaggerated and say that it totally justifies their actions.

Now I really doubt we will ever really know why we are in Iraq. Bush will insist we are safer and it was justified. But the whole thing strikes me as condescending to all of us. Like it is okay to say things that weren't true because it's for our own good. That's the way you treat children. That's the way you treat people you don't care about or respect. Or let's even give Bush the benefit of the doubt here:

It's like lying to someone to get them to show up for their surprise birthday party. You justify the lie because really you know what's best and you want to make the other person happy. Of course in this case it's like turning around and sticking the birthday guy with the check for several hundred billion dollars, killing a few of his kids, and making all his other friends really dislike him. Then to say "Well I was right. It's for your own good". It's nuts. I wouldn't keep a friend like that. And I wouldn't reelect Bush.

For me, even if I take all the other issues off the table, the economic policies, the social policy, the affiliation to the religious right, the environmental policies....skip them all for now....Bush broke the most solemn oath I think he has: To keep us and our people safe. We are not safer. We are in a war we can't seem to win. We have lost a thousand of our kids with more on the way every day. We have pissed the world off and Bin Laden is free as a bird.

We have fucked up in Iraq nearly every way possible and yet Bush wouldn't change a thing. You ever work with someone like this? No matter how they fuck up they cover it, insist they were right, blame everyone else and keep going on.

I hear people say that they don't like Bush but they are afraid to change presidents mid war. That's like being afraid to change the Enron executives in the middle of the Enron scandal. Oh well they lied, they mismanaged horribly but changing mid stream is a bad idea. The reason to change is when the person in charge is doing it wrong, isn’t it? How much worse could it really get? Well, unchecked I suspect Bush could get it a lot worse. Since Iraq has been a success according to him…..why not try it a few more times? Iran, North Korea…those pesky French.

And people say that a change will make us look weak and wavering. Last I checked we weren't attacked by the terrorists because we looked weak or wavering. Wasn't it the exact opposite? I mean if the terrorists are looking to find some weak folks to attack we are at the bottom of the list even if we fucking elected Barney with a cabinet of Teletubbies. We were attacked because of our foreign policy and our unwavering thought that we are always right. If Bush hasn't nearly doubled the terrorist ranks I'd be surprised.

This whole thing is so polarized and so political. But if this were a company, if Bush were a CEO I can't imagine a Board of Directors in the world who wouldn't shitcan him so fast he wouldn't have time to finish his last cup of coffee that his secrertary made him. Only in government could such gross mismanagement and deception possibly be rewarded.