Binging on Scott and Zelda

 

I've read about 8 books re Scott and Zelda in the past week. Some are revisitations from my first reads in the '80s, but others are bios published since then. Bio after bio after bio repeat the same quotes and don't offer any new information (as I was hoping the passing of time would). It's kind of sad: Scott and Zelda don't open up---what we readers got over 50 years ago is what we're still receiving today. They left a very particular imprint that doesn't seem to expand with time.

In 2022: I don't think Zelda should have been given ANY shock treatments or insulin treatments. I think that time has proven that these once-trendy "treatments" don't work.

At the time of Scott's death in Hollywood (in 1940, at age 44), from a heart attack: He had, for the most part, given up drinking, which most at the time agreed had been his nemesis for the past 20 years. Yet, as many of the bios mention only casually, without any discussion: At the time of his death, he was relying on Benzedrine to wake up in the morning and get him through the day, and Nembutal to put him to sleep at night.

Not a single bio has mentioned the effects of prescription drugs on Fitzgerald's system. Perhaps he would have been better off, and would have lived longer, had he continued to drink.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As an example of drugs available to celebrities (though not Scott-related): Here's a list of drugs found in Elvis Presley's system upon his 1977 death:

1. Codeine: Codeine is a prescription pain medication that is used to address moderate pain. Today, it’s often found in prescription cough medication.
2. Morphine: A potent form of opiate, morphine is a highly controlled substance that is both addictive and dangerous when used without supervision.
3. Methaqualone: Methaqualone is a barbiturate-like sedative and hypnotic medication that is more commonly known by its brand name, Quaalude. This central nervous system depressant was popular for recreational use in the 1970s and 1980s.
4. Diazepam: Better known as Valium, diazepam is a benzodiazepine commonly used for conditions like anxiety and insomnia.
5. N-Desmethyldiazepam: More commonly referred to as nordazepam, this benzodiazepine can be used for anxiety, insomnia and seizures. Today, it is a less common choice versus other benzodiazepine forms.
6. Ethinamate: Another hypnotic and sedative medication, ethinamate is a carbamate derivative that can be highly addictive.
7. Ethclorvynol: Sold under the name Placidyl, ethclorvynol was a GABA-ergic sedative and hypnotic medication popular in the mid-1990s for treating insomnia. Today, Placidyl is no longer available in the US due to dwindling demand in favor of safer and more effective alternatives but can still be found in other countries.
8. Pentobarbital: Pentobarbital is a short-acting barbiturate that can cause sedative side effects.
9. Phenobarbital: A barbiturate similar to pentobarbital, phenobarbital is a short-term drug used to treat anxiety, insomnia and seizures.
10. Butabarbital: Butabarbital is a barbiturate used to treat insomnia and anxiety disorders.

Surprise Surprise: John Lennon (1974)

The only fun, sexy song that Lennon ever wrote after meeting Yoko (and it's not even about her).

"Walls and Bridges" was also the first solo Lennon album I ever bought.

(I'd later, as the same 15-year-old, go on to type out and post lyrics for "Imagine" and "Working Class Hero" on my bedroom wall---but that was me trying to be "intellectual.")

Sweet as the smell of success
Her body's warm and wet
She gets me through this godawful loneliness
A natural high butterfly
Oh I, I need, need, need her

Just like a willow tree
A breath of spring you see
And, oh boy, you don't know what she do to me
She makes me sweat and forget who I am
I need, need, need, need, need her

Well, I was wondering how long this could go on, on and on?
Well, I thought, I could never be surprised
But could it be that I bit my own tongue?
Oh yeah, it's so hard to swallow when you're wrong

A bird of paradise
The sunrise in her eyes
God only knows such a sweet surprise
I was blind, she blew my mind
Think that I, I love, love, love, love, love her
I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her, I love her
Sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet love

Where Grass Won't Grow: George Jones (1969)

The dirt was clay and was the color of the blood in me.
A twelve acre farm on a ridge in south Tennessee.
We left our sweat all over that land,
Behind a mule we watched grow old,
Row after row.
Trying to grow corn and cotton on ground so poor that grass won't grow.

There was one old store in the holler we all called town.
It belonged to a gentle old man named Henry Brown.
He gave us credit in the winter time,
So we could live through the cold,
When the winds brought snow.
Trying to grow corn and cotton on ground so poor that grass won't grow.

The one I loved walked through those fields with me.
A hard workin' woman, true as one could be.
But then one year, death was goin' round,
And swiftly took its toll.
Janie had to go.
Now she lies asleep under ground so poor that grass won't grow.

As I stand here looking over this part of Tennessee,
The fields are bare as far as the eye can see.
And over the grave where Janie lies,
There's a beautiful sight to behold,
And no one knows,
Why there's flowers growing on ground so poor that grass won't grow...

Pedi Pain: Like Going to the Dentist

It's something you ought to do, but... it HURTS!

Just got my first pedicure in 2 years since Wuhan. Paid an extra $10 ($38 total) for what I thought would be bonuses: extra foot massage, a heat pack around my calves, etc. 

But... OUCH! These Vietnamese pedicure ladies (and I've never had a pedicure that was not done by Vietnamese ladies---though at one place, it was a Vietnamese man) are NOT gentle or soothing in any way. They fuckin' pound at you and scrape your toenails like a harsh piece of metal. To the point where, yeah, you're glad that you got your nails done and your foot callouses scraped, but... did it have to feel like you were just at the dentist's office?

I, oddly, like the general atmosphere of the cheap Vietnamese nail salons: There's no fake conversation, because the ladies usually don't speak English (so you can just sit there and be quiet). There's almost always a small temple to Buddha, with burning incense, which is interesting to think about. The rest of the salon usually has generic plastic plants and a big-screen TV showing movies from 20 years ago (in my case on Thursday, 1995's "The Net" with Sandra Bullock)---aka nothing pretentious.

Am I supposed to feel "white guilt" about getting my nails done from Vietnamese women? Are they pummeling me because I'm the "oppressor" are is that just how things are done in their world? I think the latter.

Reminds me of when I lived in San Francisco and visited an Asian-owned sea-food place in a working-class neighborhood. In the store window, the fish were stuffed into a tank with barely a couple of inches of water. The fish in the tank were desperate and struggling for both water and air. The store advertised "fresh sea food." But "fresh" meant that the fish were still alive when taken out of that awful tank.

Tammy Wynette: Womanhood (1978)

He said hold on, Patricia
I only tried to kiss ya
She said okay and then said don't you dare
She seems so badly shaken
He thought he was mistaken
But it sure looked like she bowed her head in prayer

I am a Christian, Lord
But I'm a woman too
If you are listening, Lord
Please show me what to do
I've tried hard to be what mama says is good
As I step into my womanhood

Shortly after midnight
She turned off the porch light
Walked into her bedroom all alone
She sat down and said
Well, Lord
Tonight, I've been through hell, Lord
Wondering if I did right or wrong

I am a Christian
Lord, but I'm a woman too
If you are listening, Lord
Please show me what to do
I've tried hard to be what mama says is good
As I step into my womanhood

Vacation days

I have 157 vacation hours built up at my current company. Never took anything off so far because: I have no one to go do anything with, and I have nothing that great to go do.

But I finally decided to give myself a break!

Got off early Thursday: Got a haircut, and a pedi (for the first time in 2 years, since Wuhan struck). The Asian nail place had the usual abrupt Asian ladies----for my $38, my legs and feet and nails were harshly pummeled!

Friday vacation day, then the weekend, then the holiday Monday... Not much will probably happen. I'll probably drink and sleep and try to clean a bit and vacuum (maybe). And hopefully go to the pool on a couple of the days to breathe some fresh air and get a tan and center myself.

F. Scott Fitzgerald on his mother

Early notebooks: "Never noticed mother's eyes after living with her 20 years."

In a letter to his sister after taking his mother to a hospital after her stroke:

It was sad taking Mother from the Hotel, the only home she knew for fifteen years, to die -- and to go thru her things, the slippers and corset she was married in, Louisa's [a sister who died before Scott was born] dolls in tissue paper, old letters and souvenirs, and collected scrap paper, and diaries that began and got nowhere, all her prides and sorrows and disappointments come to nothing and her lugged away like so much useless flesh the world had got thru with.

Mother and I never had anything in common except a relentless stubborn quality, but when I saw all this it turned me inside out realizing how unhappy her temperament made her and how she clung to the end to all things that would remind her of moments of snatched happiness. So I couldn't bear to throw out anything, even that rug, and it all goes to storage.

----------------

My own mother's eyes: I did notice them. Green. They almost always had either blankness or dislike in them, at least when they were looking at me. I didn't know what a "look of love" was until I met Ginny at age 17, and then my friend Kathy in the late '80s, and even my first lover Mollie in '89. (And all of these thus so tragic to me when they went away.)

I Always Get Lucky with You (George Jones: 1983)

I usually don't like graphic versions of real photos, but this is great---and I like the
insinuation that the feral George is about to come to life under the full moon.

It's also interesting to me: Should such a rough, weather-beaten, yet sensitive, man approach you in real life... Would you RUN or somehow embrace him? It's easy for me to embrace him nearly 40 years later from afar.

But...George Jones or Paul McCartney singing "Little Willow"? ... Sometimes you just need a MAN.

Paul McCartney: Little Willow (Flaming Pie, 1997)

Bend, little willow
Wind's going to blow you hard and cold tonight
Life, as it happens
Nobody warns you, willow, hold on tight

Nothing's gonna shake your love
Take your love away
No one's out to break your heart
It only seems that way, hey

 
Sleep little willow, peace going to follow
Time will heal your wounds
Grow to the heavens, now and forever
Always came too soon

Trying to Carry Bags of Groceries Home

A few days ago, I saw an old woman from my apartment complex trying to get her grocery bags home from the bus stop a block away. She had bought too much stuff, and had too many bags to  carry all at once. So she carried 3 or 4 bags at a time across the street, set them down, then went back for the others.

From 2010 to 2016, I didn't have a car in Austin, so I also had to take a bus to the grocery store. And I often inadvertently bought too much stuff and subsequently had to struggle to get everything home. After I got off the bus, I often couldn't carry everything for more than half a block, and had to stop and set every bag down and wait a sec to get a second or third wind before I carried on.

Austin is hot for about 6 months out of the year, so I often arrived at my one-room apartment sopping wet. (Yet filled with a sense of accomplishment.)

Only years later, after I had a car, did I start to curse my mother and brother who had lived within 2 miles of me at the time of the above, and knew of my car-less situation, and yet never once offered to take me grocery shopping. No one was thinking about me.

I don't particularly know or like the old woman from my complex. We've had precisely two interactions: In the first, she saw my "C-SPAN Book TV" bag at the corner beer store and asked when Book TV came on. In the second encounter, she mistakenly thought I was the blonde mother of that obnoxious autistic girl who had been running around on the roof of my apartment and jumping into my backyard and entering my apartment last year---I immediately shut down THAT conversation because I so despised both that kid AND her mother after the mother pounded on my door one eve and shouted at me for daring to tell her creepy kid to stop staring into my window.

So, yeah, I feel for the old woman and her groceries! :)  But not gonna make her a grocery-trip friend o' mine or anything. (But damn---my mom and/or brother really should have helped me out back then...)

Elvis Presley, age 19: Louisiana Hayride (10/16/54)

If You Wanna (Paul McCartney: Flaming Pie, 1997)

The first couple of times I listened to "Flaming Pie" (1997), I didn't pay much attention to this song (or half of the songs on the album). But after about the 5th or 10th listen: This whole album is a classic!

Guitars on this song by Steve Miller and Paul McCartney.

I need to fucking relax.

Even when opportunities are presented to me in which I can RELAX, I find it hard to believe that I can actually relax. (What's the catch?)

At my current job, though: We're all working from home. And people have mentioned in passing that they're going off during the work-day to: swim, or take their kids for their driving test, or take their pets to the vet, etc., etc.

I was initially internally disapproving of all of the inter-day goings-on, but, hey...

What the hell: I went for a swim myself in the middle of work today! My apartment pool is only 50 ft or so from my apartment. I haven't had a tan in 3 years, and I need one. I LOVE being in a pool, splashing around and floating, getting some sun and fresh air. Every time I go swimming, I come back very refreshed and centered and feeling good. I always feel great after any time in the water. (Sidenote: When I have flying dreams, I wake up and realize---being in the air was just like being in the water.)

Today, I was there from about 11am to 12:30---had the whole pool to myself. Came back and showered, and then put in my final 3 hrs at work. This seems like a GREAT plan for the whole summer!

In a similar vein: At the end of next week, I've put in for an extra vacation day just so I can have a 4-day weekend and relax and have a hair/spa day. (Thanks, Biden, for Juneteenth, so this white girl can go get her nails done.)

I haven't taken a vacation day in forever because---to be honest---I haven't had anything particularly fun to do. I'm looking forward to next week, though.

Who first came up with the idea of abortion?

I posted something about this earlier, before the potential Supreme Court decision was leaked to the media.

I used to be a Democrat, and I used to knee-jerkedly be "pro-abortion."

But now that I'm older and thinking about it a little more:
Who first came up with the idea of scraping a baby out of a womb? (Let me guess: Doctors who catered to prostitutes in the olden days.)

If you think about it from a non-political point of view, the very idea of such a thing is absolutely psychotic. How did such a psychotic thought become mainstream?

My apartment now going for $2240.

I moved into my current apartment in 2017:

$1275 for 2-bed, 1225 sq ft. (North Austin, no view at all, nothing special about the place)

My 2018 renewal was the same price.

My 2019 renewal was $1350.

My 2020 and 2021 renewals (during Covid) were both $1377.

My 2022 renewal was all-of-a-sudden jacked up to $1600.

I just checked the current online listing for my exact apartment: The complex is listing it for $2240!!

-----------------------

My current rent of $1600 (plus all of the apartment's add-on costs: sewage, water, trash, etc., which comes out to $1700) is half of my take-home pay after taxes. And I just got a raise! I'll go ahead and say it: I'm making $65K a year (more than I thought I'd ever make in my life), and yet I'm about to be priced out of a generic apartment in a generic part of town. $2240???? I lived in better places in Austin back when I was making $36K a year.

I've seen on business channels recently that the housing market may be about to bottom out... Dear god, I hope so, because what's going on now is insane.

In the meantime: I'm psyching myself up for a move next May, when my lease runs out. Selling off/giving away unread books and CDs and old clothes to lighten the load. Trying to figure out how to move 5 cats who were born outside this apartment and will freak out! :)

And I guess for the next year, I should just lie back and enjoy the fact that I'm allegedly living in a $2240-per-month apartment. Last time such a thing will ever happen! :)  (Famous last words---I also never thought I'd see $4 gallons of gas in my lifetime, or $8 packs of cigarettes.)

Paul McCartney: Hunt You Down / Naked / C-Link (Egypt Station, 2018)

I've been broken in so many places
Put together by a sea of faces
What to make of them I don't hardly know
I've been naked for so long...

Paul McCartney: Nothing For Free (Egypt Station extra, 2018)

George Jones: "Tell Me My Lying Eyes Are Wrong" (1970)

Author: The JT LeRoy Story - Official Trailer

If someone named "Laura" had called into a San Francisco suicide hotline asking for help because she was an unhappy fat female teen who had been sexually abused as a child, no one on the other end of the line would have recommended that she write down and seek to publish her story; nor would they have asked to see her in person.

Laura Albert knew this. And so she invented a persona: JT LeRoy---a teenaged boy with a history of truck-stop tricks who had also been sexually abused and who had a hooker mother, etc. Gay SF hotline doctors loved THIS story, as, ultimately, did New York publishers and gay filmmakers like Gus Van Sant and the sexually aggressive Asia Argento (who, according to this film, made out with who she thought was a teenaged boy).

I haven't read Laura Albert's work as "JT LeRoy"---but I'm disgusted by how quickly both the phone-in doctor and the trendy NY/Hollywood people jumped on (both figuratively and literally) the allegedly teenaged prostitute JT LeRoy as an author. Cool as a truck-stop boy prostitute, but not so cool if "just" a girl who'd been abused as a child.

The film itself isn't great----mainly numerous brief phone audio clips with celebs wanting to be part of the "JT LeRoy" phenomenon, interspersed with interviews with the actual Laura Albert. Overall, I think this doc is a critique of the far-left-wing gay and "gay friendly" lit/film establishment who have a narrative to promote. They don't care about "abuse" as such---they're more turned on if the sexual abuse victim in the story is a young male that they can subsequently make out with and/or publicly exploit.

Elvis Presley "Trying To Get To You" ('68 Comeback Special)

Elvis Presley "Ready Teddy" (Sept 9, 1956, Ed Sullivan Show)

I'm Nietzsche, Bietzsche!

 “When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.”

Paul McCartney: Back In The USSR (Red Square, Moscow, 2003)

See Putin in the crowd at 0:15!

 

Paul McCartney: Helter Skelter (St. Petersburg, 2004)

Lao Tzu: Past, Present, and Future

I normally hate "philosophies" expressed online; and hate even more graphics that go with the blurb. But while I was searching for Zelda Fitzgerald artwork, I came upon this.

A great wave of calm came over me. But then after that initial calm, I had to stop and think (Taoism doesn't encourage thinking---sorry, but I'm neither a cockroach nor a cat. Descartes European, baby): You've GOT to plan for the future or else... Concrete plans are all you have to soften the vagaries of Fate.

So I don't quite agree with Lao Tzu re the future. But re "the past," I do agree. Oh, wait... Sometimes you must look back to the mistaken patterns of the past to try to avoid repeating them in the future... Sigh.

I actually initially posted this as something that had inspired me... But then when I thought about it, the words aren't that helpful at all! :)  Kinda like the modern-day "Everything happens for a reason" that I hear spouted even in TV commercials: In my experience, pretty much NOTHING "happens for a reason"--- Almost all of the important things happen quite randomly, despite all of your best-laid plans. I mean, you can lay about a 20% foundation (education, "good choices") to avoid hitting rock bottom when everything else goes astray. But you're not actually in control of most of it. Shit happens. NOT "Shit happens for a reason." :)

Lao Tzu, what the heck were you thinking?! :)

McCartney, Harrison, Starr: Blue Moon Of Kentucky (1994)

Paul enthusiastic, as usual. George a slug, as usual. (One thing I noticed about two of my favorite singers/musicians----McCartney and George Jones: They're almost always really into the music that they're playing; you can tell because their toes are tapping in time to the beat. They're not trying to be "cool" or anything.)

In this vid, George acts like he was never a kid who once performed this song in the '50s! I hate his snobbery, and I hate the fact that he won't admit he was once excited by this music---the music that shaped him!

Paul McCartney: And I Love Her (Unplugged, 1991)

Parade of the Wooden Soldiers

According to the Milford bio, when Zelda Fitzgerald was in her years-long ballet phase, she'd play "Parade of the Wooden Soldiers" (written by Jessel in 1897) for hours on end (6 or 7am until 10 at night), and day after day, while she practiced her ballet steps.

(As a result of this ongoing music, Scott Fitzgerald moved his writing study to another building; and one house-guest claimed that after listening to it for so often, the tune was forevermore engraved into his every organ.)

OK...This isn't serious "ballet-practicing music." It's a ridiculous tune, and it's something intended to piss off her husband and (after over 10 hours daily) disrupt the whole house. What Scott Fitzgerald needed to do was parade up the stairs and dramatically break this record over Zelda's head and toss it out the window.

If you read enough about the two of them: They're both equally awful to each other at the wrong times. And tolerant at the wrong times.

Zelda Burning: March 10, 1948, fire at Highland Hospital (Asheville, NC)

Zelda Fitzgerald lived on the 3rd floor, in a locked room. According to reports, she had been sedated and probably died in her sleep from the fumes.

From Nancy Milford's "Zelda": On November 2, 1947, Zelda returned to Highland Hospital for treatment and rest. A taxi was called to take her to the train. Mrs. Sayre, Marjorie, and Livye Hart stood on the sidewalk by the porch, having said their goodbyes. Suddenly, just as Zelda was about to enter the taxi, she turned and ran back up to her mother. She said, "Momma, don't worry. I'm not afraid to die."

 

First Swim 2022

Covid hit in Spring 2020, so my apartment pool was closed all summer.
2021: My apartment pool was open for about a month, then repairs were needed, and then Covid became a "thing" again, so it was closed for most of that summer season.

2022: Just had my first swim today! Aaaaahhhhh!

My apartment is, for the most part, dark and gloomy. One side is up against the maintenance room, so no windows. The front has a big window with another bank of apartments about 10 ft away and a sidewalk in front----so I can only raise my shades about 2 ft so frequent passers-by can't look right in. The back has a patio and sliding-glass door/blinds--but neighbors on that side are only about 15 ft away, and one guy is always out there smoking, sitting on the low wall and directly staring into my backyard---so I hate going out there (I try to water my outside plants at very early hours, when I know that creep isn't going to be out there).

In short, I've been starved for sunlight and fresh air! (not to mention moonlight and stars---don't yet know how to find those again)

What I remembered from pre-2020 remained true today, when I went to the apartment pool for the first time in years: Get out there around 11am, before the hoi polloi show up! :)

Sure enough: From 11am until about 12:30pm, I had the pool completely to myself. I got to splash around and do brief strokes and float on my back with the sun red through eyelids and imagining "a salvaged pearl in each tight palm." Alternated with sunning myself in a chair and reading from my stack of 2016 New Yorkers (left over from before I cancelled my subscription that election year).

Around 12:30, a tattooed, dyed-hair, very pale couple showed up, with a mutual phone and loud music emanating from it. The boy stayed under an umbrella with his phone. The girl sat on the steps in the shallow end and occasionally ceremoniously bent over and dipped her purple hair in the water.

A few minutes later, a dad and his screaming, running-around kid showed up, with water-shooting toys.

A few minutes later, I  retreated back to my apartment. But after an hour-and-a-half of peace and swimming and breathing fresh air! My pallid body needed that sun! My creaky body needed that movement of body parts in the water! I felt GREAT afterwards!

RAM T-shirt Conversations

 

I bought this T from redbubble.com a couple of months ago. I still work from home all of the time (since Covid hit in 2020), and I don't buy any regular clothes any more---just T's and sneakers and shorts/sweatpants/cargo pants! A big variety to keep from getting bored with my at-home wardrobe (though I haven't yet bought any yellow/gold sneakers to match this particular T). Since 2020, I've bought the following Ts:

3 George Jones
3 Joan Crawford
2 "The Office"
2 Paul McCartney
1 Beatles
1 Elvis '56
2 Bay City Rollers
1 Daniel Johnston "Hi, How Are You?"
1 Nijinsky/Bakst
1 Thomas Hardy
1 Bell Jar
1 KZEW radio station (Dallas/Ft. Worth radio station that first played punk/new wave back in early '80s)
1 Black Cat Lounge (Austin dive that I visited regularly in late '80s/early '90s)
Sports: 3 UT, 1 Cowboys, 2 Weehawken Indians, 1 Azle Hornets
Political: Let's Go Brandon

And just a few days ago (redbubble had a sale):
One of Waterhouse's "Lady of Shalott" portraits
A period cartoon of Nietzsche rejecting a copy of "Das Kapital" with a hearty "Nein!" (also purchased a bumpersticker to go with this: "I'm Nietzsche, Bietzsche")
Street sign of Liverpool's Penny Lane
Book cover of Fitzgerald's "The Beautiful and Damned"

Phew! That's a lot of T-shirts in 2 years! I've taken my T collection out of the one drawer I used to keep them in and now put them all on hangers in the closet. So they're now "official" parts of the wardrobe!
Once my work contract runs out, and I have to go back to an office, what will I do with all of them?! (Guess I'll have to buy more blazers to wear over them.)

Anyway, I like this particular Paul McCartney "Ram" T-shirt because it's bright for the spring/summer. And because I've been in a Paul-mood for quite a while. For one thing, he's brilliant: He can groove, he can rock out, he can do pure pop, he can do show tunes. Without being a pedantic, left-wing-trendy ass like Lennon became after he met Yoko (thought I first loved Lennon's songs when I discovered the Beatles in 1980).

I wore this "Ram" T out to the grocery store today (one of the few times I go out anywhere nowadays!): Got two reactions, both from 70-ish men.

The first:
Man: Where did you get that shirt?!
Me: Oh, um, from an online T-shirt place---redbubble.com
Man: But what does it MEAN?
Me: It's Paul McCartney's second solo album---1971.
Man: But it's my exact initials!
Me: Oh, wow.
Man: We should change shirts!
Me: [pretending to take off my shirt] OK!
Ha-ha---luckily no shirts were exchanged. He had on a T-shirt, too, but I couldn't tell what it represented. :)

The second (much more satisfying):
Man (wearing a "Yes" rock T-shirt---I hate everything about "Yes"): Is that Paul's album?
Me: Yes, it is!
Man: That was me and my wife's song.
Me: [I didn't ask: What song exactly? "Ram On"? Luckily he went on.]
Man: I liked his first album, and about two songs off of this one. None of that Wings stuff, though.
Me: Well, I liked "London Town." And "Ram" is great! Bad reviews at the time, but it's actually very good. And I've been listening to more-recent Paul albums lately---have you heard '97's "Flaming Pie"?
Man: No.
Me: You should check it out on YouTube! It's got a good flow to it.
Man: What's it called? "Flaming Pie"?
Me: Yes! 1997. It's really good.
Man: OK, cool, I'll check it out.

Bye!

Paul McCartney: No More Lonely Nights (1984)

May I never miss the thrill / Of being near you...
Na-na-na-na, na-nah...

Paul McCartney: The World Tonight (1997: Flaming Pie)

I saw you sitting at the center of a circle
Everybody,
Everybody wanted something from you
I saw you sitting there

I saw you swaying to the rhythm of the music
Caught you playing
Caught you praying to the voice inside you
I saw you swaying there

I don't care what you want to be
I go back so far, I'm in front of me
It doesn't matter what they say
They're giving the game away

I can see the world tonight
Look into the future
See it in a different light
I can see the world tonight

I heard you listening to a secret conversation
You were crying
You were trying not to let them hear you
I heard you listening in

Never mind what they want to do
You got a right, to your point of view
It doesn't matter what they say
They're giving the game away

I can see the world tonight
Look into the future
See it in a different light
I can see the world tonight

I saw you hiding from a flock of paparazzi
You were hoping
You were hoping that the ground would swallow you
I saw you hiding there

I don't care what you want to be
I go back so far, I'm in front of me
It doesn't matter what they say
They're giving the game away

I can see the world tonight
Look into the future
See it in a different light
I can see the world tonight...

Paul McCartney: Souvenir (1997: Flaming Pie)

Everybody's got a handful of fear
But tomorrow it may only be a souvenir
Of the way it was 'til it went away...

When you're fed up shedding too many tears
And your memories seem like just so many souvenirs
I will come to you to ease the pain

If you want me tell me now
If I can be of any help, tell me how
Let me love you like a friend
Everything is gonna come right in the end

When you're crying like a poor little child
And you're feeling like you never could be reconciled
Don't forget a word of what I'm saying

If you want me tell me now
If I can be of any help, tell me how
Let me love you like a friend
Everything is is gonna come right in the end

Well, I can hold you too tight
I could never let you go
But that wouldn't be right
So, why don't you let me know (let me know)

Everybody's got a handful of fear
But tomorrow it may only be a souvenir
Of the way it was 'til it went away

If you want me tell me now
If I can be of any help, tell me how
Let me love you like a friend
Every little thing is gonna come right in the end

Well, I can hold you too tight
I could never let you go
But that wouldn't be right
So, why don't you let me know (let me know)

If you want me tell me now
If I can be of any help, tell me how
Let me love you like a friend
Every little thing is gonna come right in the end

Souvenir
No, not another souvenir
No, no no, no, souvenir

Where to live upon retirement?

I've got no home to go home to when I'm old.

My family moved to Azle, Texas, in 1976 and I graduated from Azle High School, but we didn't have roots there. (My father is from East Texas, and my mother is from Germany.)

I've lived for the most part in Austin since 1983. But IN Austin. I don't know the AREA. I don't have roots or family in the area. (My brother followed me here, and then, when she retired, my mother followed my brother here---she'd been in Azle, then in San Antonio for 20 years.)

Of all the places I've lived, I liked Weehawken, New Jersey, the best. Beautiful architecture, beautiful landscape. I was able to walk to the supermarket, walk to my favorite sandwich shop and pizza shop. A bus to NYC was right across the street. But I only lived there for 2 years---don't even know what's changed there now (I left in 2010).

Most people in their middle age are able to picture something mentally for their future. I can't. At this moment, it seems like I'll be in some sort of generic apartment in Austin.

(a) or (b) or (c) October 1992

God is a godsend, Beer
is a blessing, these shoes are a curse, oh
the coldness is catching, my eyes
are a witness, my eloquence [alt: my pussy is] bleeding,
it hurts to be stirring [alt: the kittens are purring], my heart
bottle-feeding on ketchup and venom,
a bitter religion, the suck still
recurring, a split indecision
of what it is --- me, or a gift for not
taking, your mother, she sleeps
and your wife, she is waking.

[alt ending] , the murder repeats,
mirrored words are for breaking.

-------------------------------------------------

Back in the olden days, I used to spew out stuff like this constantly. 1985 to 1997, I have notebooks filled with this...what?... zippety-do-dah ways of saying pain?

I stopped the above sort of thing because it was too easy. I was always in emotional pain. There was always something awful to semi-rhyme about.

There was no transformation of the awful into the bearable other than the casual words. So I suppose they served their purpose at the time.

Since then, I've discovered that I have no truly serious words. I can't say it properly. Perhaps with middle age, I've lost the ability to either make light or to truly express. And so I have shut up in order to ride it out with as little pain as possible.

Paul McCartney: Maybe I'm Amazed (1970)

Paul McCartney: Back Seat of My Car (1971)

[Verse 1]
Speed along the highway
Honey, I want it my way
But listen to her daddy's song
"Don't stay out too long"
Ooh, we're just busy hiding
Sitting in the back seat of my car

[Bridge]
Looking for a ride in the haul-about
Looking for a ride in and out of town
Stalling around in a haul-about
Looking for a ride in and out of

[Verse 2]
The lazy lights are pretty
We may end up in Mexico City
But listen to her daddy's song
"Making love is wrong"
Ooh, we're just busy riding
Sitting in the back seat of my car

[Refrain]
Aw, we was only hiding
Sitting in the back seat of my car, yeah

[Verse 3]
And when we finish driving
We can say we were late in arriving
And listen to her daddy's song
We believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
We can make it to Mexico City
Sitting in the back seat of my car

[Outro]
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
Oh, we believe that we can't be wrong
No, no, no
We believe that we can't be wrong
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh oh, oh oh, yeah, oh, yeah

George Jones: Caesar Rock (1984)

Pure Poison: "Stop Pretending Your Racism is Patriotism"

I voted Democrat 95% of the time from 1984 (when I was first eligible to vote) to 2020.

Let me just reiterate (because I've posted this here before years ago):
1984: Gary Hart in primary, Mondale in election.
1988: Dukakis
1992: Bill Clinton
1996: Ross Perot (because Clinton was sucking up to the Defense Industry, though today I appreciate Dole more)
2000: Gore
2004: Kerry
2008: Hillary Clinton in primary, McCain in election.
2012: Obama (Mitt Romney was generic and mediocre, standing for nothing, and I didn't yet realize what Obama's Justice Dept had been doing)
2016: Trump
2020: Trump

In 2016, when Donald Trump first ran, I was greatly heartened by his speaking about the need to bring American jobs back home from overseas. Bernie Sanders was the only other candidate mentioning this (Obama had told us to get used to it), and I also paid attention to Sanders at that time, but only Trump gave accurate specific reasons why US jobs had gone overseas to begin with: The US tax rate that penalized US companies.

So I started paying attention to Trump, quickly realizing that he was not just running as a vanity project. He actually STOOD FOR things:

No open borders (no other country in the world has open borders---yet the US is expected to have them? Why?).

NATO countries should pay their agreed-upon share of their own defense. (Trump pointed out that the economic power Germany, for instance, was not paying its NATO share AND had energy deals with Russia, yet was still expecting the US to provide for its NATO defense---when NATO was founded for the defense of European countries AGAINST Russia!)

Energy independence: US gas prices now are at their highest EVER. Why? Because Biden has shut down US gas pipelines.

Post-2016: The "Russian Collusion" reports by all of the once-mainstream media have been proven false. In fact, these stories were promoted by the Hillary Clinton campaign (one of her lawyers is now facing charges for lying to the FBI). Trump was about as "radical" as Bill Clinton in the '90s. Yet the far-left media outlets portrayed him as a "racist." Why? Because he wanted to control immigrants allowed into our country? As I mentioned above: Every other country in the world has border controls---why is the US not "allowed" (by the globalists/communists in our own country) to have them?

As for "Stop Pretending Your Racism is Patriotism":  I just tonight saw this bumpersticker on a car in the parking lot of my apartment complex. How do you answer that sick, idiotic, utterly divisive statement?

As for "Racism":
I think blacks support their low-life criminals while most whites don't support theirs. (Most non-communist whites recognize that criminals are in jail for a reason---among most whites, there aren't complaints about "over-incarceration.")
Black-on-black murder rates are off the charts. Far more blacks are killed by other blacks than are killed by the police. No communist whites and no blacks ever mention this.
Crimes committed by blacks are way out of proportion to their percentage of the population: 13% of population vs. 50% of crimes.

It's not "racist" to point out the above stats. I'm not racist, but I can read the facts for myself (and see the looting and crime for myself on non-leftist TV stations). As a side note: Why are the vast majority of ads on US TV featuring blacks when blacks are only 13% of the population? Why the virtue signalling shoved down our throats?

As for "Patriotism":
I do believe that someone like US Representative Ilhan Omar (whose family came to the US as Somali refugees in 1995) should (1) be grateful to her new country, and (2) stop calling her new country "racist"---She's a black Somali refugee who was elected to the US Congress... How NON-RACIST is the fact that someone of her background was just elected to the legislative body of the United States?

I also don't think it's right that a small minority of radicals are allowed to tear down statues without a vote by the community. And I don't think it's right that anyone disagreeing with radical views are not allowed to speak on college campuses without being threatened.

And BLM leaders have bought themselves swank houses with guilty-white corporate money. It's all an awful scam going on right now. Accompanied by the brainwashing: "Stop Pretending Your Racism is Patriotism." I plan on slapping one of my spare "The Donald: 2016" stickers on top of this car's sticker. She'll drive around for days before one of her fascist buddies frantically points out her error!

Paul McCartney: Caesar Rock (2018)

Play LOUD.

Paul McCartney: Confidante (2018)

You used to be my confidante
My underneath-the-staircase friend
But I fell out of love with you
And brought our romance to an end

I played with you throughout the day
And told you every secret thought
Unlike my other so-called friends
You stood beside me as I fought

In your reflected glory I
Could dream of shining far off lands
Where serpents turn to bits of string
And played like kittens in my hand

In our imaginary world
Where butterflies wear army boots
And stomp around the forest chanting 
Long lost anthems
Long lost anthems

You used to be my confidante
My underneath-the-staircase friend
But I fell out of love with you
And brought our romance to an end

I played with you throughout the day
And told you every secret thought
Unlike my other so-called friends
You stood beside me as I fought
You stood beside me as I fought

You used to be my confidante

Paul McCartney: Happy With You (2018)

I sat around all day
I used to get stoned
I liked to get wasted
But these days I don't
'Cos I'm happy, with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

I walked around angry
I used to feel bad
But nowadays my days
Don't have to be sad
'Cos I'm happy, with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Like, hear the high clear robin sing
Walk a bluebell carpet
Watch the children playing games
Catch a moon and drop it
Hear the gentle mantle roll
On a frosty morning
See the mighty ocean break
Like a sailor's warning

I used to drink too much
Forgot to come home
I lied to my doctor
But these days I don't
'Cos I'm happy, with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Throw a pocketful of coins in the Trevi fountain
See an ice cold running stream
Rushing down the mountain
Hear a new born baby lamb
Calling for its mother
Watching reunited friends
Loving one another

I sat around all day
I liked to get stoned
I used to get wasted
But these days I don't
'Cos I'm happy, with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Happy with you
I'm happy with you
Happy with you

The Judds: Mama He's Crazy (1984, official vid)

• 
  
  
  Hate to argue with Naomi Judd's 50-something kids (Ashley and Wynonna) now posting on the Internet re #MeToo and against guns and claiming the "mental illness" of their mother.
  
  Naomi Judd was 76. She'd made it to the top of her field without claiming victimhood. At the end, she judged for herself whether her life was still worth living. My guess: She was 76, everything she'd wished to accomplish was behind her. Maybe she'd been diagnosed with a terminal illness---who knows. I find it hard to believe, though, that she was "mentally ill." It doesn't seem at all like "mental illness"---it seems like a conscious choice at age 76.
  
  As for the public announcement by the woke Ashley Judd excoriating guns:
  Would it have been better if Naomi Judd had overdosed or jumped off a cliff?
  Naomi Judd was born in Kentucky, where guns aren't so strange. And it's perhaps braver to go out quickly via gun rather than fading out with pills.
  

Attempt at a peaceful evening.

Woke up today sans hangover, which meant a day of work-from-home not getting irritated by much. Which I didn't. (Amazing how irritating things don't irritate you so much when you wake up after a good night's sleep and after no beer the night before.) The only "chore" I  had for the day was posting a May 10 acknowledgment of the 45th anniversary of Joan Crawford's death (I run a Joan Crawford website).

Work got done, and then I planned to relax a little with the minimal amount of beers I had in the house. (Not the usual 8 or 10, but 5 or 6.) I had a couple of Amazon packages to open, and then I thought I'd list a couple of things for sale on eBay and then settle back to watch basketball playoffs and go to bed early. Like a normal person might do for the evening.

Yeah, well, one of the Amazon packages was remiss, and I had to go leave a bad review and then start a Return. And one of the eBay items I'd bought earlier in the day (a Basquiat book) turned out to be in Spanish, so I had to query about a return for that (I can return if I pay the postage). And the items I was listing for $20 on eBay ended up taking over an hour to photograph and edit and post (and now post about)---it's nice to get rid of extraneous stuff around the house, but...I make a lot more than that an hour and it's a frigging waste of my time to make sure a minor eBay listing looks nice!

So here I am at midnight---hyped up and agitated, as usual.

This has gone on forever, every single night. And it's not actually how I want to live my life. I'm a grown-up and I lived pre-Internet, so I know what it means to NOT be online every day, to NOT have cable. The concept of retiring early with a book and your own thoughts... Your OWN thoughts. Or at least your own thoughts and the thoughts of someone long dead yet profound and thoughtful (unlike the shallow, idiotic people in your current online or television life).

Kentucky Derby 2022 (FULL RACE) | NBC Sports

Wow! Watch the full race, and you'll never see Rich Strike coming!
I'm amazed at this horse and jockey!

Daniel Johnston: Some Things Last A Long Time (1990)

Your picture
Is still
On my wall
On my wall
The colors are bright
Bright as ever
The red is strong
The blue is true
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time

Your picture
Is still
On my wall
On my wall
I think
About you
Often
Often
I won't forget all the things we did
Some things last a long time
Some things last a long time

It's funny
But it's true
And it's true
But it's not funny
Time comes and goes
All the while
I still think of you
Some things last a long time

Your picture
Is still
On my wall
On my wall
The colors
Are bright
Bright
As ever
Things that we did
I can't forget
Some things last a lifetime
Some things last a lifetime

Finding Vivian Maier: Official US Theatrical Trailer

Fascinating story: First comes Maloof's happening upon Maier's work at auction; and then his seeking to unlock the mystery of what/who he had just come upon. Maier left literally hundreds of thousands of negatives, and Maloof not only recognized his find but also made the utmost efforts to make prints and contact various museums. This film is the story of Maloof's efforts to both research Vivian Maier's life AND to bring her work to public/academic attention. He succeeds admirably. We learn about the artist herself via numerous examples of her work (and, in the Extras, some cassette recordings and videos), but also about the sometimes harsh and troubled woman via interviews with the family members that she nannied for over the decades, as well as interviews with relatives in France and her last neighbors. I really admire this honest documentary.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I love Netflix. Not the streaming Netflix (only @2000 to choose from), but the old-fashioned, red-envelope, by-mail Netflix (10,000 to choose from). I love browsing the site and putting things that seem interesting into my queue. I look forward to receiving my choices in the mail and learning about new things.

The Beatles (Paul McCartney): Can't Buy Me Love (1964)

Paul McCartney's enthusiasm is contagious.

The Beatles: Help! [Blackpool Night Out, ABC Theatre, UK]

John looked so cool while performing, but, per his intro, he was actually a huge nerd. I keep trying to find the psychological key to his Yoko-thing... She was "cool" (i.e., nonchalant and rich), plus his relationship with her tried to mirror the earlier relationship with Stu Sutcliffe and Astrid Kirchherr that he'd witnessed and found so sexy and dramatic and wanted to re-create. Unfortunately for all of us, Yoko and Yoko's "art" weren't that inspiring, except in John's mind. She was no Astrid Kirchherr, though he wished her to be. And insisted that she be. To no avail.

The Beatles: From Me To You Live At Washington Coliseum (1964)

The Beatles: From Me To You

Pope Francis on Russia/Ukraine Conflict

VATICAN CITY (RNS) — Pope Francis told an Italian newspaper on Tuesday (May 3) that NATO may be partly to blame for Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and he said he hopes to visit Moscow to meet with Russian President Vladimir Putin in hopes of brokering a peace.

Talking to reporters from Il Corriere della Sera, Francis said that “NATO barking at Russia’s doors” may have raised alarms in the Kremlin about the Western European alliance’s intentions in Ukraine. “I can’t say if (Russia’s) anger was provoked,” he continued, “but facilitated, maybe yes.”

https://religionnews.com/2022/05/03/pope-francis-says-nato-barking-at-russias-door-faciliated-ukraine-conflict/

I have not heard ANYONE express my own opinion about the Ukraine/Russia conflict---except now, by the POPE, of all people! :)

For the past 10 years, leaders of Ukraine have invited NATO and US military and global NGO personnel into their country. OF COURSE Russia would be upset. Given Ukraine's geopolitical location, wouldn't you think that the country's leaders would be more diplomatic, out of necessity? Or was the lure of Western money more enticing? Ukraine was never part of Europe but was always part of Russia.

Zelensky is telegenic, but... he obviously does not have a grasp of the history of the region that he lives in. I think he has been swayed by the vast influx of Western money (and the Internet). Did his lack of understanding lead to the current conflict?

George Jones: I'd Rather Have What We Had (1983)

I can listen to George Jones and feel sympathy for, and relate personally to, the sad story being told without feeling "dirty."

Similarly, re The Beatles: No matter what the year, what they were singing/writing about, I felt that John and Paul were ultimately sane and positive and would not lead me too far astray.

But when I listen to someone like Daniel Johnston, even though I might relate to the lyrics of a song, I feel dirty, like I'm being sucked into his psychosis, his very creepy being.

Story of an Artist: Daniel Johnston (1982)

I dislike Daniel Johnston for the most part.

As a young man, he presented himself around Austin both faux-modestly and aggressively, as a musical savant. In fact, despite his "aggressive modesty," he only had a few good lines and melodies here and there. But he managed to insinuate himself with the editor of Austin's weekly alternative paper, who began to promote him. (Said editor, Louis Black, is also one of the founders of SXSW---apparently a good man to know.)

Despite Johnston's self-promotion as a naif, an innocent, his one-time (only?) girlfriend Kathy McCarthy said of him: He wasn't innocent at all; rather, he was dark and disturbing. In fact, Johnston was mostly a lazy drug addict and a very self-aware psychotic who lived off his parents throughout his life (blaming them for telling him to "get a job" as a young man but then expecting them to rescue him from whatever city he'd wound up in and couldn't survive in up through his 40s and 50s. He was born living with his parents, and he died living with them.).

In 1990, while his father was flying him home from a concert, Johnston grabbed the key from the plane ignition and threw it out the window. The plane crashed, and Johnston was subsequently re-committed to an institution. When I heard this story, every fake mental image about the supposed "innocent naif" was dismissed.

This song is beautiful unto itself. (Until you learn about the real Johnston---but then that's not ever the point of "Art.")

Hot Chocolate: You Sexy Thing (ZDF Disco, 24.04.1976)

I didn't know this song when it first came out; first heard it in 1997's "Boogie Nights" (a mundanely horrific but ultimately mundanely beautiful optimistic movie---"You're into sunrises? Me, too!")
Woke up to this song via my alarm this morning (Austin's BOB 103.5)---Made me feel very happy!

Elon Musk and Me

Elon Musk 4/28 post on Twitter

 

The Beatles - I've Got a Feeling: Rooftop Concert

Paul friggin' ROCKS.
John should've stayed with Paul.

Also: Remember when the biggest problem London bobbies had was breaking up a Beatles rooftop show?

John Lennon: imagine (live 1975)

How utterly embarrassing.

Very interesting video to see, but John in his David Bowie space-suit (one guess who told him that looked good) and pony-tail looks stupid (as does the odd milieu of socialites among the footlights for this particular song). He's only 35, but he looks like he's 50---like the decrepit Elvis that he once decried in 1980 interviews.

Thankfully, John retired soon after this. He had nothing to say to the universe after 1971. (I own all of his solo albums, and I like them a lot, especially "Walls and Bridges." But...his latter-day sense of self-importance and self-righteousness was much greater than the quality of his albums. Funny: "Self-importance" and "self-righteousness" were never characteristics of John Lennon in his Beatle years.)

SPEED RACER (1967 theme song)

Johnny Depp v. Amber Heard Defamation Trial FULL Day 11

I've been watching the trial as it's been streamed (usually on the UK Daily Mail site but sometimes on CBS when the Daily Mail site goes down). Today, while I had it streaming on my computer, a scheduled maintenance guy came in to replace the stove gas line. As he was leaving, he said, "Listening to Johnny Depp?"
Me: "Yeah, I was supposed to be working, but I was."
Him: "Funny how miserable..."
Me: "Yeah---the most beautiful and rich people, and they're so miserable." (We also then commiserated about the amount of cat hair and cat toys and food bits found underneath, and to the side of, stoves.)

I suppose I should post a video of "Richard Corey" right now.

Mass Cane Resurrection!

 

The last corn (mass cane) plant I had lasted for about 5 years. I killed it over this past winter by leaving it outside during a couple of frosts. (It survived the first frost, but not the second.) Since its death, I've had its remains sitting outside during the spring---so far, not a hint of rebirth. (I'd had it indoors for its first 3 years, where it grew, but wasn't that excited about it. Once I set it outside, though, it went nuts.)

I think I got Mass Cane 1 at my local grocery store, which no longer carries them, though I've been looking in their plant section every time I go. Since I'm not really a Home Depot shopper (have no home to fix up), I didn't know where else to look. Perchance, while ordering cleaning supplies at Walmart.com, I saw that they had some plants that you could order! I doubted that any plant via Walmart would be great, but...

Just look at that beautiful thing! And only $24.99! It arrived this afternoon in a tall, narrow cardboard box with a heavy, dead THUD at my door (thrown on its side, when the packaging clearly said "Keep Upright"---why don't people listen?). It's got a few bumps and bruises, and the planter was squashed, but look at it now, bright and sturdy, clearly wanting to live despite its travails! :)

Nothing IS.

A couple of weeks ago, I was on the toilet one morning and for some reason a Bob Dylan song came into my head. Can't even remember now what the song was. But the more important thought that I had at that moment: "Bob Dylan did this song a very long time ago. Everything he did, and everything he stood for in the press and in the public consciousness, doesn't exist now except in my mind."

Everything is in the past.

Not So Sage

 

A couple of days ago, I was investigating Palo Santo sticks and sage online. But something that started out as peaceful and nice devolved into me finding some creepy, "woke" leftists saying that I, as a white person, was not allowed to use Palo Santo sticks or sage because it was "cultural appropriation." One obnoxious blogger "forbidding" me from using such had her photo posted: She was a 20-something black woman. Sorry, but, using her own idiotic criteria, what does someone from Africa know about either "Palo Santo" or sage? They're both American-continent rituals that have nothing to do with Africa.

And as for who is "allowed" to partake in whatever: The Soul is Universal. It makes me sick to read these Orwellian leftist, fascist diatribes.

Paul and Linda McCartney - Heart Of The Country (1971: Ram)

Paul McCartney (1971: Ram)

I just bought a "Ram" T-shirt from redbubble. Wore it today for the first time to the supermarket, to various other errands. Have felt "blah" for a long time. Amazing how a T-shirt can lift your spirits. (Only 1 person overtly noticed, though: In the supermarket parking lot, a 70-something man leaning out of his pickup window gave me a thumbs up. I'm sure I'll be even more disappointed when I wear my new Nijinksy T-shirt out and about.)

Are you better off than you were 2 years ago?

In 2021, I had exactly the same job that I had in 2020. I made exactly the same amount of money in 2021 as I did in 2020. I filed my tax return in 2022 (for year 2021) with the exact same tax service that I filed with in 2021 (for year 2020). But my refund for 2020 was $440, and this year my refund for 2021 is $5.

Come to think of it: When I moved into my current 2-bed apartment in April 2017, my rent was $1275. It remained the same for the next 2 years. In May 2020, it was raised by $75 to $1350. In May 2021, it was raised by $27 to $1377. But this May 2022, it was raised by $223 to $1600.

Are YOU better off than you were 2 years ago?

Aside from your rent/mortgage, what are you paying for gas now in 2022? Or for a simple McDonald's meal?

And aside from overt inflation in the past 2 years: Is the US border situation better off? Is the US crime rate better off? Is the world situation better off?

Is all of this sudden descent into chaos mere coincidence, or does it actually have to do with pure incompetence---either of the decrepit Biden or the decrepit socialist policies that his handlers are promoting?

Daniel Johnston (1985): Ain't No Woman Gonna Make a George Jones Outta Me

Ain't no woman gonna make a George Jones outta me
Ain't no woman gonna make a George Jones outta me

Whatever will be will be
Just wait and you'll see, you'll see
Ain't no woman gonna make a George Jones outta me

Love is priceless, it's a feeling
Love is ruthless with no ceiling
Love is this, love is that
Boys are dogs and girls are cats

The night is dark, I heard a bark
With no meow to follow
So I turned out the lights, closed the door
Laid my head on a pillow

Oh, oh mama
I got them really sad blues
Oh, oh mama
I got them really sad blues
Oh, I got them really sad blues

Well I know you so very, very smart
You think like an arrow, like a bullet or a dart
Oh oh mama, I got them really sad blues
Ain't no woman gonna make a George Jones outta me


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daniel Johnston was a schizophrenic/autistic/whatever-you-call-it-today musical savant who spent many years in mental hospitals after violent outbursts. Incapable of living on his own, yet still capable of occasional insights. This song, and song title, jogged me out of my George Jones reverie. I have long admired Jones's suffering. But here is someone, a musical outsider and mental patient, "daring" to say what most of Jones's peers and fans would not say: "Dear god, to be like that would be the worst." (Complete with the completely non-dramatic non-Tammy female interlude!)

I'm annoyed with this song because I love both George and Tammy, and I hate to see their entertaining public histrionics mocked, but... this song is actually funny and great.

Somehow (The Vapors, 1980)

I've seen it before
I know the score
You're trying to be wild and carefree
You really can't take it no more

I'm trying to think
I can't think clear
Everybody's talking at me
It's gone foggy in here

But as time goes marching home again
It leaves me to reflect
Or was this just a waste of time?
Or was this time well spent?

And if it marches back again
And orders me to smile
Then will I be prepared?
Or will it take a little while?

Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't leave me now
I'll make it up to you somehow

Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't leave me now
I'll make it up to you somehow

I've listened to you
Please listen to me
Don't tie us up completely
Just wait and see

I'll try very hard for a second chance
Which is it to be? One dead romance
Or a handful of dreams? Please tell me
It makes all the difference to me
And I really want to know
I've tried so many things I suddenly regret
If I could only compromise and you'd try to forget
A single kiss, a lover's wish, the past dissolves in tears
The present burns inside of me, the future disappears

Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't leave me now
I'll make it up to you somehow

Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't leave me now
I'll make it up to you somehow

Oh yes I will and I'll go out of my way to make you happy
Till the sun don't shine and sky stops turning blue
I really want to know
Could I ever be happy without somebody who really cared
Somebody like you

Don't leave me
Don't leave me
Don't leave me now
I'll make it up to you somehow

Trains (The Vapors, 1980)

And again I wait for you
My tired hands are turning blue
I'm not sure if it's night or day
My body's aching in the cold and rain
But, I can't go home in case you're on the next train
So, here I stand - I'm just waiting for you

Everybody I know has to face the trains
Everybody I know makes the same mistakes

Playing games I turn around
I kick my heals I count the clowns
I watch another lonely man
Oh, but there's something in the air
that says I'm in the right place
So, I gaze at the crowd I'm trying to find the right face
And there it is - You say you're sorry too

Everybody I know has to face the trains
Everybody I know makes the same mistakes

Well, there's a hole in the ground
that seems to eat me up
I can't say enough about the two of us
My arms are breaking I can't hold you enough

Oh, I can't hold you enough
Oh, I can't hold you enough
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I want to love you again
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna

Everybody I know has to face the trains
Everybody I know makes the same mistakes

Well, I took you to a glycerine party everynight
I followed on my lead when you put out the light
I couldn't fight the feeling that it's warmer than rain
I couldn't fight the feeling that you can't fight trains cause I know

Nobody tastes like you
Nobody looks like you
Nobody loves like you
Nobody tastes like you
Nobody looks like you
I can't go home
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna

(What did you say?)
I said a lot of things that I didn't mean
(tell me why?)
Cause I was hungry for you sweet 16
(so you lied?)
Oh, just to keep you here you're so naive
I get so lost and lame
Like on a ball and chain but, I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna do it again
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna

Everybody I know has to face the trains
Everybody I know makes the same mistakes
Don't let the trains get'ya

That's Life (Frank Sinatra: 1966)

That's life (that's life), that's what all the people say
You're ridin' high in April, shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm back on top, back on top in June

I said that's life (that's life), and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down
'cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin' around

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life (that's life), I tell you I can't deny it
I thought of quitting, baby, but my heart just ain't gonna buy it
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly

I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out and I know one thing
Each time I find myself layin' flat on my face
I just pick myself up and get back in the race

That's life (that's life), that's life and I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cuttin' out but my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothin' shakin' come this here July
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball a-and die

My, my!

I've Got No Strings - Pinocchio (1940)

George Jones: I Just Don't Give a Damn (1975)

Happy Easter! (George Jones: Sinners & Saints, 1999)

Paul McCartney: Live and Let Die (1973)

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Gimme Back My Bullets (3/7/1976 - Winterland)

Life is so strange when its changin', yes indeed
Well I've seen the hard times and the pressure's been on me
But I keep on workin' like the workin' man do
And I've got my act together, gonna walk all over you

[chorus]
Gimme back my bullets
Put 'em back where they belong
Ain't foolin' around 'cause I done had my fun
Ain't gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back my bullets

Sweet talkin' people done ran me out of town
And I drank enough whiskey to float a battleship around
But I'm leavin' this game one step ahead of you
And you will not hear me cry 'cause I do not sing the blues

[chorus]
Gimme back my bullets
Put 'em back where they belong
Ain't foolin' around 'cause I done had my fun
Ain't gonna see no more damage done
Gimme back, gimme back my bullets
Oh, put 'em back... where they belong

Been up and down since I turned seventeen
Well I've been on top, and then it seems I lost my dream
But I got it back, I'm feelin' better everyday
Tell all those pencil pushers, better get out of my way

Lynyrd Skynyrd: Tuesday's Gone (3/7/1976 - Winterland)

Train roll on, on down the line
Won't you please take me far away?
Now I feel the wind blow outside my door
Means I'm, I'm leaving my woman at home

Tuesday's gone with the wind
My baby's gone with the wind again

And I don't know where I'm going
I just want to be left alone
Well, when this train ends I'll try again
But I'm leaving my woman at home

Tuesday's gone with the wind
Tuesday's gone with the wind
Tuesday's gone with the wind
My baby's gone with the wind

Train roll on
Tuesday's gone

Train roll on many miles from my home
See, I'm riding my blues away
Tuesday, you see, she had to be free
But somehow I've got to carry on

The Knack: "My Sharona" (Bremen, 1980)

The Knack: "Your Number or Your Name" (Bremen, 1980)

The Knack: "Good Girls Don't" (Carnegie Hall, 1979)

The Knack: "Hold On Tight" (Carnegie Hall, 1979)

UPS Girl Appreciates Me!

Friday, I took 3 Amazon items to the local UPS store for returns. As usual, I had the return code printed out and attached to the correct item. Usually nobody cares, but this time the girl at the counter said, "Thank you! Usually nobody has anything prepared." Why, thank you for noticing! :)

Reminded me of back in the '90s when Marlboro had a "Miles" promotion. If you sent in the "Miles" from the side of the cigarette pack, you could order items from their catalogue based on how many miles you sent in. (I ended up getting a coat, a bag, a sweatshirt, a grill, and various other items. Never could save up enough for the pool table!) When I sent in my miles to the company, I was very careful and orderly: After tearing them off the pack, I'd cut around the edges and then glue them onto a sheet of paper in neat rows---with the total miles written at the end of each row. I later met a guy who'd also been sending in his miles: He'd just tear them off and throw them in an envelope!

Life lesson: Mostly, people don't care. But sometimes they do. I still have hope.

Guilt

I've got 5 cats, and this morning the only boy, Pete, got too wild and jumped up on a table with plants on it and knocked over one plant to the ground---the planter was plastic and OK, but the succulent plant in it was split in half and ruined. Plus there was a lot of dirt everywhere.

I yelled at him like a maniac, in my meanest voice, and chased him out of the room. In doing so, I scared every cat in the house (except for Sasha, who is usually pretty cool, unless I try to take her to the vet; she stayed right where she was). About 20 minutes later, Pete ventured back out of the bedroom to where I was in the living room. TOO SOON. I was still pissed and looked him in the eye and yelled at him again and stomped my foot until he raced back to the bedroom, where he then stayed for hours, as did the rest of the cats.

I felt like a horrible creep. And, yes, it flashed me back to my childhood, whenever my father was in a nasty mood and we all (my mom and me and younger brother) had to walk on eggshells around him.

I think that, yes, I should have gotten mad at Pete for knocking over the plant. But when he crept out 20 minutes later, I don't think I should have terrorized him again---just because I was still mad and it felt good to yell again. (Scary how good it felt to yell again.)

Made me glad I didn't have kids. Or if I HAD had to deal with kids, maybe I'd have realized that sometimes you lost your temper?

I think there's a happy medium between my father/mother and regular behavior. My father was both verbally and physically abusive. My mother was classic passive/aggressive: When she was mad at you, she'd just ignore you (the story of most of my life).

I'm happy to say that at least I just stomped my foot at Pete and yelled and never touched him (I would NEVER hit any of my cats); and I'm also happy to say that hours later, he came back to be petted, and I petted him and apologized for being mean. But still: I felt I'd been abusive to him. And I don't want a house where my cats are scared of me, as they all were today.

Elon Musk offers to buy Twitter for $43 billion

GO, MUSK!!!!

The censorship on Twitter and Facebook and other social media sites
over the past few years has been disturbing and, yes, politically fascist in the banning of opinions not corresponding with the prevalent globalist/communist philosophies.

FREE SPEECH, PLEASE!

My apartment is now going for $2200!!!!

When it came time to renew my lease back in March, I was shocked to learn that my rent had all-of-a-sudden gone from $1377 to $1600. When I queried management re that huge leap, I was told that my apartment at $1600 was still below the market value. Sure enough, when I did a search online for the exact same apartment, it was listed at $1800. So I shut up and signed for $1600.

Today, just for the hell of it, I again did a search for what my apartment was currently going for on the management company's site: $2200!!!!!! Fuck! I better enjoy my last year here, because a year from now, I'm going to be out in the boondocks somewhere!

Because I'm anal and keep records, I just looked over the various rents I've paid since living as an adult:

Austin: 1985-86. Efficiency near UT campus. $315 month.
Austin: 1986-87. 2-bed duplex w' roommate. $475 month (my share: $237.50)
Austin: 1987-88. 1-bed apt. $275 month.
Austin: 1989. 2-room garage apt. $250 month.
[rent for 2-bed duplex in 1990 with girlfriend and subsequent 1-bed townhome by myself, I can't remember]
Austin: 1991-94. 1-bed duplex (now the trendy "Rainey District"). $310 month.

San Francisco: 1994-1995. One room. $575 month.

Austin: 1996-97. 1-bedroom. $495 month.
Austin: 1997-98. 1-bedroom/study. $425 month.
Austin: 1998-2000. 1-bedroom/loft. $635, renewed for $660.
Austin: 2000-2007. 2-bedroom house (800 sq ft). $825 the entire time.

New York City: 2007 (6 months). 2-bedroom apt w' roommate. My share $750 month.
New York City: 2007 (3 months): 2-bedroom apt w' dif roommate. My share $1100 month.
Weehawken, NJ: 2007-2008 (5 months): 2-bedroom downstairs row house w' roommate. My share $750 month.
Weehawken, NJ: 2008-2010: 2-bed upstairs row house by myself. $1550 month.

Austin: 2010-2015. One room (400 sq ft). $545 / $570 / $600 / $700.
Austin: 2015-2017. 2-bed apt. (800 sq ft). $875 / $925 / $1000.
Austin: 2017-present. 2-bed apt. (1200 sq ft). $1275 / $1350 / $1377 / $1600----soon to be $2200!!!!

Slacker: Every Thought You Have Creates Its Own Reality

"Oh shit, I should have stayed at the bus station."

"Slacker" revisited

Just re-watched Richard Linklater's "Slacker" (1990), his debut film that brought him to national attention (and flashed me back to Austin during that exact time). Here's my review for Netflix:

Eternal ode to a long-departed Austin era. I lived through it, and, to answer some reviewers' questions: Yes, there really was a subculture of thrift-store-dressed grad students/post-grads/hipsters/nutcases that hung out and lived around the campus area and spent their days and nights discussing conspiracy theories and Sartre and Smurfs in cafes in between browsing in book/record stores and walking to the nearest indie/foreign film theater (there used to be 4 theaters either on or within a half-mile of campus). Every place depicted in the film (except maybe the Continental Club) is long gone now, most closed by the end of the '90s. It would be funny (and probably impossible) to try to do a 2022 version, featuring perhaps a Starbucks where each person at a table poked furiously at the device in their hands while ignoring everyone next to them; today, people have transferred their obsessions to the online world, though many of the obsessions (intrusive media, intrusive government) remain the same. A compelling, original, often frightening film---the lackluster lives depicted are stultifying and mostly sad; and sometimes it's better NOT to know exactly what your fellow humans are thinking, especially at such close range!  

--------------

What I didn't mention in the review (Netflix limits you): I could SMELL Linklater's Austin scenes. Shot maybe in late April or May or June? Austin has a certain smell during those times (along with a certain soundtrack that includes doves at dawn and sunset). The cracked sidewalks and weed-infested empty lots in the middle of the city also flashed me back. I don't know if this type of "talkative hipster" still exists, though. Where would they go to actually TALK instead of just posting something online? And I know that the homeless hanging around on the Drag (Guadalupe St, bordering the campus) certainly aren't called "dragworms" any more. (Post-1990s, the few aged dragworms left over from the '60s who hung out on the Drag morphed into multitudes of heroin/crack-addicted young people. What was once an interesting anomaly is now a scourge---but you can't call them that.)

p.s. The anarchist old man shopping with his daughter in the film was my first philosophy professor in the fall of 1983: Louis Mackey, who taught "God and Man."

----------------

While I lived AMONG the slackers of that time---I was a regular at their cafes and bookstores and record stores and movie theaters---I was too mentally aggressive and judgmental to be OF them. I liked my physical surroundings of that time a lot, and am nostalgic for them. But I do not miss the low-life pretentious people. I was interested but very unhappy during that time. Whereas today... I supposed I'm not so interested but more internally content.

Acting weird (not me!)

Since I've been working at home for the past 2 years, I hardly ever go anywhere aside from the local grocery story. But today I "got to" go somewhere! An offsite location to update my work ID! Weeeeeee! What should have been a 10 minute drive turned into a half-hour meandering through the hills of west Austin (the first time I'd seen them in 20 years). I'd thought that I could take access roads instead of the highway---wrong. There wasn't an "access road." I wound up, after several wrong turns, way out in the hills, scared to take the curves at more than 20 mph, with a big-ass truck or two right on my tail, encouraging me to hurry the fuck up. Finally turned myself around, then wound up in an upper-middle-class neighborhood with lots of signs posted in the front yards congratulating junior on being first in his/her class and/or team. (Can't decide which is more obnoxious: parent signs or "I believe in BLM/Climate Change/Science" signs.)

At some point, I made it to my location. Started to sign in, and while I was doing so, a young woman walked up and stood beside me and started tapping her fingers while I was filling out the form. I looked at her and smiled, and she didn't say anything, so I kept on filling in my name and purpose for visit. When it came to the time, I looked up for a clock. At this point the woman finally spoke: "You don't need to fill that out. Come on."

Really? You really stood there the whole time and tapped your fingers and didn't say that you were the person I was supposed to go with? Please.

Despite the ridiculousness of this person, I still felt much more mellow than I felt the first time I visited 2 years ago: At that time, new job, but I didn't know for how long. And my ID photo looked hideous: Ghostly pale and no haircut for months, and bad reader glasses, and scared-looking. This time, I kind of meandered on in and meandered my way around the dummy of a clerk. Had nothing to do with me except that it was a task that I felt good to have accomplished. And I looked a lot better---I felt bad for the me in that old ID . (On the way home, feeling my oats, I did get into a race of sorts on Burnet Road as an SUV tried to pass me---he beat me on a 35-mph road, though he had to go up to 50 mph to do so. And the engine of a Mazda 2 hardly compares to that of your SUV---congrats, a-hole!) :0

Elvis Presley: Wearin' That Loved-On Look (1969)