Episode 83: A Summer Spent, A Winter Earned
I'm sitting here at my computer. Misty's in the kitchen cooking. I'm thinking. I'm thinking hard...again. We all know what happens when I do that. What usually results is something really horrible.
I've come to learn things this summer. I've learned things like a hurricane on radar can look like Jason Newsted slinging his hair around during a Metallica concert. I've learned that there are places in life that are huge on irony. Work is a prime example. I've watched people who haven't been around near as long as me get promoted while I haven't even been considered. Now, my captain is not giving me a choice...as of the 16th of this month, I have to take the lieutenant's test whether I want to or not. Funny how things work out isn't it? Yeah, fuckin' hilarious. Sure, a promotion to Lieutenant would be a jump up but I can't get my ass promoted one place up in the totem, much less two. I've even watched a guy who is far more qualified than me, who was doing a wonderful job get edged out of the spot of Lieutenant at the last minute. Personally, I think this is just to make me think that they have some kind of confidence that they really don't. It's patronizing, it's insulting and if this is a joke, I'm not sticking around for the punchline. I honestly pray for one of those efficiency consultants to come in. I'd give them the one thing the want most first...right out the gate. I'd give them me. I'd give them a full list of the offenses I've committed...including the ones at which I haven't been caught and then, I'd tell them why. Picture that scene in the movie Office Space and you'll know exactly what I was talking about. I'd fuck off nine ways to Sunday and pray that my attempts at self-sabotage were a complete success. Why? Well, sure I'd go down but can you imagine the entire Good Ol' Boy Network coming apart at high speed? I'd laugh, all the way out. You can imagine how frustrated I am with being there. The job used to be something to talk about until I reduced it to simply a case of "as long as they're cutting the checks, I'll keep cutting the throats." Sadly, my dear readers, a once-noble role to me has lost it's nobility. I now see myself as nothing more than a mercenary...if that. Maybe you won't agree with me, maybe you will. Maybe you don't even understand it. That's alright. Just know that I no longer associate myself with the job unless I have to. When people ask what it is I do. I tie-dye t-shirts, I promote music, I host a show on the internet, I'm into independent research, I do all of that and, oh yeah, I have a night job. Don't worry about the night job...it pays the bills...that's a wrap.
That's when I think back to just how or why I've opted for the life of internet radio over that of a rock star. I remember the inspiration behind it all. If you've ever seen that old movie Pump Up The Volume you'll know what I'm talking about. Shy kid, introverted, decent writer and many of his own classmates looked up to him and never knew who he was. How could they not know? He had a harmonizer on that deepened his voice. In his bedroom, on those radios that his classmates used to tune in, he was a legend and he walked among them but no one ever knew until the end of the show when he's being loaded into the back of one of those F.C.C. vans as everyone recognizes him. Shy kid, introverted, decent writer, glasses...almost a nobody but then he takes off the glasses and he goes from that version of himself into Happy Harry Hard-on mode, looks back at them all with that sly smile and says the two most memorable words in the movie.
"Talk hard!" he said and then he disappeared into the van. I have to hand it to the writer of that movie...it was original.
Was that what it was really all about for us? The few, the proud, the psychotic personalities of the information uber-highway? Were we all just wanting to be different versions of ourselves? Ourselves amplified to near-earth-shattering volumes? Did this technology suddenly open the floodgates on a veritable melting pot of personalities all rushing to find their niche somewhere in what DARPA had once set for us as a giant electronic mall? Now, you can be a rock star by night, everyone can be famous. Everyone can be the star that my generation was taught to be.
I still remember Brad Pitt walking around in Fight Club saying, "We were all brought up to believe we were all going to be rich. We were all going to be famous. We were all going to be rock stars and celebrities...but we're not...and we're very pissed off about it."
It was an enlightening phrase at the time. At the time, it was true. We didn't have a great war or a great depression that defined us as a generation. Our great war was a spiritual war and our great depression was truly our lives. Now, we're faced with the most awesome clusterfuck since Vietnam and the biggest depression since the one biting the heels of World War I. Now, suddenly, our generation has the validity it has been seeking but the problem is we were raised amidst such mediocrity that we have doomed every generation following us. We've set the precedent and are now scrambling to run like hell to get everything fixed before the other jackboot drops it's heel onto us. I suppose it's true that you can't convince some people that things are going terribly wrong when they're too comfortable to really take notice.
I look at the many frustrations of many summers past and I think, Where are the solutions? Where is the end of it all? Where can I rest in reasonable comfort assured that the personal destruction will end?
There it is. It's right up ahead, ladies and gentlemen and, soon, we'll be entering the fog just like I did when I was 18 years old, spooking my friends with that old quote that we were entering another dimension of sight and sound and of mind...
What if I did it? What if I did take us into the wrong dimension? What if this isn't the world I'm meant to inhabit? When I passed through that fog at 18...was it just a fog? If not, could I forgive myself for taking the four of us into a world that wasn't made for us? This would mean that none of the horrible events of the past ten years happened to any of us. Everyone back home is alright and they're wondering why it is their children have gone crazy.
God, get me off of this train of insane intent (locomotive anyone?)
Winter is our destination. The bite of the cold and the chill of the night air. The nights get longer and the days get shorter and some of us can come out of our restlessness and finally get the rest we've been seeking so desperately. Beautiful hibernation of sorts. Enveloped in darkness, shrouded by night and shielded under blankets dreaming peacefully of that world that should have been.
"Now...let's talk about gettin' me home."
-Bruce Campbell "Evil Dead III: Army of Darkness"
I've come to learn things this summer. I've learned things like a hurricane on radar can look like Jason Newsted slinging his hair around during a Metallica concert. I've learned that there are places in life that are huge on irony. Work is a prime example. I've watched people who haven't been around near as long as me get promoted while I haven't even been considered. Now, my captain is not giving me a choice...as of the 16th of this month, I have to take the lieutenant's test whether I want to or not. Funny how things work out isn't it? Yeah, fuckin' hilarious. Sure, a promotion to Lieutenant would be a jump up but I can't get my ass promoted one place up in the totem, much less two. I've even watched a guy who is far more qualified than me, who was doing a wonderful job get edged out of the spot of Lieutenant at the last minute. Personally, I think this is just to make me think that they have some kind of confidence that they really don't. It's patronizing, it's insulting and if this is a joke, I'm not sticking around for the punchline. I honestly pray for one of those efficiency consultants to come in. I'd give them the one thing the want most first...right out the gate. I'd give them me. I'd give them a full list of the offenses I've committed...including the ones at which I haven't been caught and then, I'd tell them why. Picture that scene in the movie Office Space and you'll know exactly what I was talking about. I'd fuck off nine ways to Sunday and pray that my attempts at self-sabotage were a complete success. Why? Well, sure I'd go down but can you imagine the entire Good Ol' Boy Network coming apart at high speed? I'd laugh, all the way out. You can imagine how frustrated I am with being there. The job used to be something to talk about until I reduced it to simply a case of "as long as they're cutting the checks, I'll keep cutting the throats." Sadly, my dear readers, a once-noble role to me has lost it's nobility. I now see myself as nothing more than a mercenary...if that. Maybe you won't agree with me, maybe you will. Maybe you don't even understand it. That's alright. Just know that I no longer associate myself with the job unless I have to. When people ask what it is I do. I tie-dye t-shirts, I promote music, I host a show on the internet, I'm into independent research, I do all of that and, oh yeah, I have a night job. Don't worry about the night job...it pays the bills...that's a wrap.
That's when I think back to just how or why I've opted for the life of internet radio over that of a rock star. I remember the inspiration behind it all. If you've ever seen that old movie Pump Up The Volume you'll know what I'm talking about. Shy kid, introverted, decent writer and many of his own classmates looked up to him and never knew who he was. How could they not know? He had a harmonizer on that deepened his voice. In his bedroom, on those radios that his classmates used to tune in, he was a legend and he walked among them but no one ever knew until the end of the show when he's being loaded into the back of one of those F.C.C. vans as everyone recognizes him. Shy kid, introverted, decent writer, glasses...almost a nobody but then he takes off the glasses and he goes from that version of himself into Happy Harry Hard-on mode, looks back at them all with that sly smile and says the two most memorable words in the movie.
"Talk hard!" he said and then he disappeared into the van. I have to hand it to the writer of that movie...it was original.
Was that what it was really all about for us? The few, the proud, the psychotic personalities of the information uber-highway? Were we all just wanting to be different versions of ourselves? Ourselves amplified to near-earth-shattering volumes? Did this technology suddenly open the floodgates on a veritable melting pot of personalities all rushing to find their niche somewhere in what DARPA had once set for us as a giant electronic mall? Now, you can be a rock star by night, everyone can be famous. Everyone can be the star that my generation was taught to be.
I still remember Brad Pitt walking around in Fight Club saying, "We were all brought up to believe we were all going to be rich. We were all going to be famous. We were all going to be rock stars and celebrities...but we're not...and we're very pissed off about it."
It was an enlightening phrase at the time. At the time, it was true. We didn't have a great war or a great depression that defined us as a generation. Our great war was a spiritual war and our great depression was truly our lives. Now, we're faced with the most awesome clusterfuck since Vietnam and the biggest depression since the one biting the heels of World War I. Now, suddenly, our generation has the validity it has been seeking but the problem is we were raised amidst such mediocrity that we have doomed every generation following us. We've set the precedent and are now scrambling to run like hell to get everything fixed before the other jackboot drops it's heel onto us. I suppose it's true that you can't convince some people that things are going terribly wrong when they're too comfortable to really take notice.
I look at the many frustrations of many summers past and I think, Where are the solutions? Where is the end of it all? Where can I rest in reasonable comfort assured that the personal destruction will end?
There it is. It's right up ahead, ladies and gentlemen and, soon, we'll be entering the fog just like I did when I was 18 years old, spooking my friends with that old quote that we were entering another dimension of sight and sound and of mind...
What if I did it? What if I did take us into the wrong dimension? What if this isn't the world I'm meant to inhabit? When I passed through that fog at 18...was it just a fog? If not, could I forgive myself for taking the four of us into a world that wasn't made for us? This would mean that none of the horrible events of the past ten years happened to any of us. Everyone back home is alright and they're wondering why it is their children have gone crazy.
God, get me off of this train of insane intent (locomotive anyone?)
Winter is our destination. The bite of the cold and the chill of the night air. The nights get longer and the days get shorter and some of us can come out of our restlessness and finally get the rest we've been seeking so desperately. Beautiful hibernation of sorts. Enveloped in darkness, shrouded by night and shielded under blankets dreaming peacefully of that world that should have been.
"Now...let's talk about gettin' me home."
-Bruce Campbell "Evil Dead III: Army of Darkness"
posted by Lord Genocyde at 10:49 PM
3 Comments:
HeyD.,
You deserve that 2 jumps up that ladder to Lieutenant.You have a great "thinker" and can think fast in situations that require immediate attention,and we BOTH know what I'm talking about.In the blink of an eye someone is lock in sock beating someone...and a person can be killed in a matter of seconds w/ the right blow.God knows I seen some stuff just w/ women that will probably forver be etched in my brain.I admire what you do....but I KNOW I couldn't handle it.The stress level can get so high for you guys,I can't begin to imagine.Inmates are already like prssure cookers ready to explode..and higher rank often encourages you to be just as hardened and callous as you can...but you,my friend see both sides of the fence,and I am totally in awe of that.You've expressed how you understand that non violent offenders are there to pay their debt to sociey,and so you don't act like a jackass and put people down worse than they already put themselves down.But yet..you demand the respect,becuz we both know hardened criminals will rry and "get one over" on a boss real quick if given the opportunity...men especially.Don't get me wrong,I'm not saying that men are worse tha women b/c I am some nutty man hater...I just know my maintenance boss retired from the penetentiary and for many many years worked the men's AND womens units and told me personally how much difference there is in them.
I say you should make Lieu of the year.Or Lieu of the month!
Even though you see others' that have been there longer,and in YOUR opinion deserve this promotion...THINK buddy! It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that YOU have what it takes to muli-task many situations,which is what it takes to do this.Alot of people can't do that,or don't have the confidence.
I can say this cuz I know and have seen PERSONALLY that you my friend are the one that makes the final decisions on what takes place...which is a tall order...but I am so proud that you are someone they KNOW they can trust to do that.
Ohh M.G.,I have met some of the cruelest people I've ever met in prison,that will forever have their faces and voices in my head.Like,the bastard C.O.,who was ALWAYS a bastard that would tell poor larger women "MOVE YOUR FAT ASS"!!! and hurtful things like that to women.Well,on my way out the gate,there he was.I'll never forget..."he said look at the dumb-blonde go...I'll see you back in here before the year is up blondie"!! and busted out laughing.I wanted to say "FUCK YOU DICKHEAD"!! But I took it in stride and thought "I'll just use that as just ONE MORE incentive to NEVER come back here."
There is a big difference in the older C.O. that explained to me once why he was so harsh...but in a consistent non-offensive type way.He told me that if he made things easy and life just hunky-dory(basically),then the revolving door would be worse than it already is.But to me...there is a fine line between being harsh and being a REAL jerk.To do your job is ONE thing...but for a C.O. to give off the impression that he is a REAL woman hater(probably due to an ex-wife or something)LOL...and then you got the C.O. that wants you to hate it there,so you won't keep hurting your family/children especially by making it "cool" in there and keep coming back.
I honestly believe that because of the degredation,and hard work w/ no pay,and mainly the longing for your kids is what got me off paper and on the straight and narrow.But I can also give some credit to alot of conversations with C.O.'s,Sgt's,Lieu's and even the warden a few times that has me doing what I have to do to stay in the free.
So edit THIS statement out your post buddy...I demand it:
QUOTE "I've even watched a guy who is far more qualified than me, who was doing a wonderful job get edged out of the spot of Lieutenant at the last minute. Personally, I think this is just to make me think that they have some kind of confidence that they really don't. It's patronizing, it's insulting and if this is a joke, I'm not sticking around for the punchline. I honestly pray for one of those efficiency consultants to come in. I'd give them the one thing the want most first...right out the gate." UNQUOTE
That's pure bullshit.Your what every system needs.Someone with some damn sense.
Luv ya..Take that promotion and the money that goes with it!! :-}
daaaannnng!
Did I have THAT much to say!?
Whoa!
ooops...one more thing...I don't care if spam nails my blog...I hate that word verification on everyone's blog.I better go let Letti know not to add it to mine.LOL
It NEVER goes thru the 1st time,and I KNOW dang-friggin well my letters are RIGHT.It ALWAYS takes me twice.Hate it.
lol
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