“We Looked Like Giants”

“When every Thursday
I’d brave those mountain passes
And you’d skip your early classes
And we’d learn how our bodies worked

God damn the black night
With all its foul temptations
I’ve become what I always hated
When I was with you then

We looked like giants
In the back of my gray subcompact
Fumbling to make contact
As the others slept inside

And together there
In a shroud of frost
The mountain air
Began to pass
Through every pane of weathered glass
And I held you closer than anyone would ever guess

Do you remember the JAMC…?”

“Grey Ghost”

“Here’s how messed up former Soul Coughing singer Mike Doughty was in his early days trying to make it as a musician in New York.

When he heard that his friend, singer Jeff Buckley, had died, he was so jealous of his success that his initial reaction was rage — not that his friend had died, but that his early death would likely turn him into a legend.

“I was just so utterly trapped in myself,” says Doughty, who recounts those years in his riveting new memoir, “The Book of Drugs.” “I immediately thought, he’s in the firmament now. And I was right, but you don’t think that about a friend who dies. What a horrible mind-set, the craziness of thinking that this is a game, and the guy who’s dead won. Utterly insane.”

LINK

“Born of New York’s downtown scene, Soul Coughing was a forerunner of Twenty One Pilots, using loops, samples and a hip-hop cadence to color Doughty’s literate wordplay.

The success of the singles “Circles” and “Super Bon-Bon” opened up a range of rock star experiences, from jamming with the Dave Matthews Band to snorting heroin with fellow singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley.”

LINK

“Oh, he will not
Walk out the river now
He will not walk out the river
He will not walk out the river, singing
Don’ fall through the stars
Don’t fall through them
Don’t fall through the stars
Don’t fall through them

On the docks in Memphis
With the boom box, nodding out, singing…”

LINK

Plaques And Such

In my line of work, the plaque or gift you receive from your work colleagues when you are finishing an assignment is kind of a big deal as everybody has an “I Love Me” wall at their next assignment upon which they place these artifacts to show everyone how cool and high speed you were and are.

For some reason, I’ve always either received shitty plaques or none at all.

In Havana everyone who left got a nice plaque. Because on that poor economy, the craftsmanship was extraordinary and extremely inexpensive. And I was the guy in charge of getting everyone a parting gift. And everyone was always very happy when they got it. And it was ALWAYS understood that I had inherited this task from my predecessor, and when I left someone else would need to pick up the slack.

But do you think I got a plaque or a nice parting gift to remember my two years and ten days (not that I was counting) in that Communist paradise? No.

My office took me out to lunch my final workday and my boss literally told me, “Uh, sorry we didn’t get you a plaque, Jay Bobb. I’ll have it sent to you once it’s done.”

Still waiting for it twelve years later, Ted…

When I left the Army, I was really looking forward to the plaque I’d get so I could display it in my future office to show everyone how I’d once been a badass American paratrooper.

Instead they gave me this.

There was no way in Hell I could ever hang this up in any office.

Years later, I fucking bought my own.

Uncle Vance, Jr.

My son’s middle name namesake.

He was my father’s older brother and died at 27 of TB after spending five years in a sanitarium.

I’m not certain, but I think his father had it first and Vance, Jr. caught it from him.

Vienna, Virginia (2012)

Our snooty neighbors knocked down their home to build a McMansion and allowed the local fire department to practice putting out a fire they set on their old house.

It was a smoky, sooty, nasty mess with the wind blowing the fumes and flames right towards our house across the street.

I made this for my oldest daughter on her 9th birthday.

Johnny Ramone

“I carried around fury and intensity during my career. I had an image, and that image was anger.”

“I never liked blues and I really didn’t like jazz. I liked Chuck Berry.”

“Two of my biggest heroes were my father and John Wayne.”

“I never felt out of control. It was just the way I lived my life. I was the neighborhood bully.”

“When I was younger, I was ready to go off at any time. My wife, Linda, and I would go out to the Limelight in New York, and I would see people and be able to freeze them with a look. People were even too scared of me to tell me that people were scared of me.”

“People drift towards liberalism at a young age, and I always hope they change when they see how the world really is.”