Yee-hah! My extended Pennsylvania weekend has come to a close and I’m back in my cube churning out paper work and disappointing students on an hourly basis. The trip back to Clearfield went well despite a few snags in the carpet. For the first time in awhile I didn’t miss New York City, I didn’t care what was happening in the 5 boroughs and I didn’t want to return to Manhattan, (at least not yet). Some major issues came up during this visit home, and I was on the road by myself for a large chunk of time so the veil was lifted (or dropped, depending on how you look at it) on a number of subjects. Here are a few lessons learned in the backwaters of Pennsylvania.
Wait a second. Before this list gets rolling I must say Good Luck and God Bless to one of my best friends from home. Brian Sloppy is heading to Pittsburgh this morning to enlist himself in the Air Force. His basic training will take place in Texas, and he will be training to be an airline mechanic. Word to the wise, don’t take commercial flights in about four years because Sloppy will be out of the service and working in a civilian job. Best wishes to Brian who has bucked up and decided to fly straight, (no pun intended). And yes, as it has been stated before, Sloppy is his real last name.
So here you can find my list of things learned over the past weekend:
1. You are doomed to life of poverty if you plan to work in the music industry. This is due to a number of reasons, but mainly because your idea of good taste doesn’t translate into dollar signs. People in rural America don’t give a shit about independent artists. That may be a generalization, but I feel safe in assuming it. How could the kids who used to go to punk rock shows with me have no idea that Franz Ferdinand is now a band and not just an assassinated Archduke? Why isn’t there a soul who knows that Modest Mouse put out a new record that totally rocks dicks out of mouths? How come the jukeboxes are laden with new metal that makes me want to vomit? The notion of good taste doesn’t matter. It’s bullshit and if you have convictions about staying pure and making boatloads of scratch in the recording industry, than hopefully you are sitting on some money already because you are going to be poor for awhile. Is this me throwing in the towel? Not quite, but it is a consideration. It may be time to become a fan again.
2. Changing the oil in an automobile isn’t that difficult. You should learn so you don’t have to pay the people at Walmart to fuck up your car. Also, laying under a car on a piece of cardboard has its benefits. Maybe I should have been a mechanic. Thanks for the lesson Bruce.
3. Marie Belin is one raw mother. She is quite possibly the coolest person around. She has absolutely no fear and she will speak her mind at all costs. It must have been where I got my “smart” mouth. Anyway, our black cocker spaniel that goes by the name of Eddie is so old. He has to be 17 at this point. Eddie can’t control his bowels when he gets excited. My mother has to clean up piss or shit at least once a day. On Thursday Eddie left what could have been the remnants of a Thanksgiving Feast in our kitchen and mom flipped out. She told Bruce that if Eddie wasn’t there when she came home, she would feel ok about it. She tried to get me to take him or put him down, so I tried to squeeze two grand out of her for the services. She laughed because she knew that one of my friends would do it for a hundred. How could you kill a family member who has been with you for so long? Well, Marie can and it’s not because she doesn’t like him, but he fucks with her everyday. I pray that I’m able to control my body functions for the next few years.
4. Drinking and Driving is a bad decision, but it is a necessity in any area outside of Manhattan and a few other urban areas. People are going to die and it’s a shame I have to say that because we buried a friend in high school due to this problem. Kids don’t have many options and don’t really care. Yes, I know the value of a solid Designated Driver, but unfortunately no one picks up that responsibility. With bars being the only opportunity for entertainment, I feel small towns all over America will continue to struggle with this problem. Pennsylvania has recently lowered the B.A.C. and stiffened offenses, but that has deterred few from participating in the deadly exercise.
5. The majority of people don’t have a problem with “settling.” Fuck that. I want the best and I’m going to die trying to get it.
6. My memory is turning to mush. This trip home had its mini disasters most of which consisted of me completely forgetting peoples names. Though it may sound a bit on the melodramatic side, it made me feel horrible. Why couldn’t I remember the girl’s name who sat in front of me during Homeroom for four years? How could I forget a family friend’s name even after he congratulated me on graduating? And for that matter how the hell did everyone know I graduated? I need to check the pages of the local paper to make sure Mom didn’t throw a picture and byline in there.
7. I should have stuck with my trombone. At the wedding reception I was seated with an old music teacher who told me that I was a really good trombone player and she had wished I kept playing because of my potential. Too bad I couldn’t put up with the “Band Fag” label the jocks put on the kids who played music, otherwise you may be looking at the next guy who plays trombone really well.
8. Speaking of our paper, its name is the Progress. I never really saw the irony in that name until I took a quick walk around the River Front Festival. The scruffs and mountain people that ooze out of the cracks for this annual celebration confirm that there is nothing Progressive about that county.
9. The kids I’ve come to associate myself with are some of the nicest and most loyal people around. Yes, we can site incidences of drug trafficking, prison sentences, partner sharing, money wasting and heavy unemployment, but to be honest with you, those kids are the best and they’ve helped me through the toughest periods that my life has encountered and I’ll forever be in debt to them.
10. My drinking tolerance is way too high.
11. Church services are for the birds. There is something so self-righteous about 300 people agreeing with a priest who says God is in all of us. What a crock of shit. If there is an omnipotent than she/he doesn’t participate in the lives of murders, rapist and child molesters. The priest also said that the married couple should wake up every morning and tell themselves and their partners that they see the divinity in them. How fucked is that? This presumption is ridiculous. God in everyone? Give me a break. If that’s the secret to a perfect, long lasting relationship then stay away from me girls because I can assure you that this man is devoid of all divinity.
12. The clicks you were so devoted to in high school will remain intact. Go to your five year, ten year or whatever year and you will realize that it never changes. Little things change but the overall hierarchy remains the same. Sad but true. Luckily there were a few people who broke the mold and are now in my phonebook. I hope to build on those rusty relationships.
13. Listening to Yankee broadcasts on AM 880 is amazing. Yesterday’s game flipped my shit.
14. My Church skills are rusty. It’s been three and a half years since I last stepped into that church. The last mass attended was a Christmas service that some friends and I got fucked up before rolling into the house of God. Since then I’ve lead a life without the weekly snooze called mass. Does this make me a bad Catholic? Does this put me and this God type at a distance? If all the bullshit they preach is true, than no.
15. Getting married is fucking nuts. I’m serious. This shit is no joke. Ladies, I’m sorry, but if and when I decided to make this commitment with someone, I hope she doesn’t have plans for a grand wedding. Granted, I would proceed with the hoopla if she insisted and it was true love calling, but at this point, I’m thinking a judge and a barbeque. All of that other jazz kills me. I’d definitely pull a Glenn Guglia if my lady wants the big show. I’d anticipate that a girl who is willing to spend the rest of her life with me would have the same ideal alignment, but I’ve grown accustomed to things not going my way.
16. It’s easier to get heroin in central Pennsylvania than a bag of kind bud. How is this possible? Well, I got the full story on the ride home from the reception, so direct your questions to me.
17. My older sister is really a beautiful person.
18. My younger sister is really a beautiful person in the marinating process.
19. Stay away from Wendy’s. It is the delicious devil. They tempt you with their dollar hamburgers and their Biggie sizes. Trust me; your stomach will hate you for it. I spent a day in agony due to Mr. Thomas’s burger joint.
20. Life as a kid was wasted on scattered interests. It was music that finally pulled it all together. Friday afternoon my mother asked me to clean out my closet which has been my only sanctuary since I’ve left for college. My bedroom was turned into a stopping ground for family members and other guests. There is zero evidence that I ever lived in that room unless you open my closet. The walls are no longer adorned with show flyers and Nirvana posters, but rather the walls are covered in a soothing tope and various decorative ornaments. Even my furniture has disappeared. This didn’t matter because I could still come home and open my closet and still feel as though I was hanging on like Sly in Cliffhanger. Now I had to take all the knick-knacks I’ve saved over the years and separate them into Salvation Army and garbage piles. There were so many different boxes of collections that never satisfied my cravings for creativity and imagination. Thank god music came along and pulled everything together, (for better or worse).
That should give you some idea of how my trip went. My next trip back is going to be during the Clearfield County Fair so if anyone has a desire to see Cheap Trick and Clay Aiken in the same weekend with a grandstand full of drunk rednecks than call me and we'll make plans.
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