The title for this post is paraphrased from a Frenzel Rhomb t-shirt I purchased at one of their shows during my ninth grade shit punk years. It actually reads, “I wash and wash all day long, but I’ll never be clean,” and it has a drawing of a shit family. Awfully witty innit? So what if they only wrote one good song, Run, and it was on a compilation, (Survival of the Fattest)? The t-shirt still kicks ass, and I felt rebellious wearing it because my high school teachers never got close enough to make me turn it inside out. The dress code was the most hilarious part about my high school, (well, that and all the rednecks). If you had any sort of offensive clothing on, you were instructed to turn it inside out, and if the situation warranted it detention was issued. My friend Todd wore a t-shirt for quite some time that had a screened sunflower and the phrase, “I’m a Little Fucking Ray of Sunshine.” Ms. Coons discovered this one day and nearly shit a house. They also tried to stop kids from wearing chain wallets, but after my father died none of the teachers ever said much to me. Things were strict, but it typically didn’t apply to me.
(Lt: Holtmeyer) My high school changed all their rules after the big murder during my 11th grade year. Yeah, there was a big murder in our little town of Clearfield, Pennsylvania. In 1998 Jessica Holtmeyer, a 16 year old who attended the same Catholic Grade School as me, killed a young girl named Kimberly Dotts. The 15 year old victim caught wind of Holtmeyer’s plans to run away with a few kids to Florida and threatened to tell. Holtmeyer and her crew drove Dotts to a secluded area where they proceeded to hang her. After two attempts let Dotts still gasping for air, Holtmeyer took a rock and bludgeoned Dotts to death. They covered the body with nearby brush and were on their way. This kind of incident sends huge shockwaves through a community no bigger than 8000 residents. There were a couple bomb threats called into the school which resulted in free afternoons drinking and smoking at Bilgers Rock. The most severe threat came in the form of the cousin of the victim threatening to snipe out attendees of the 1998 graduation. They beefed up security and would not allow anyone in without specific invitations.
This lynching along with a few other incidents and threats forced the administration to tighten their grip. This translated into a pain in the ass for kids like me who often cruised in late or coordinated skip efforts through the exit behind the gymnasium. Gone were the days of covert operations to meet Megan and her Bronco at the edge of the school so we could smoke cigarettes and get ice cream during 7th period study hall. Kids were no longer able to use the emergency exit in the shop classroom to run down the hill to catch a quick buzz. It even became difficult for me to skip class to go hang out with Todd while he jammed in the band room closet. Hall passes became a privilege rather than a right. Our principle, Dr. Wunder (his real name), even went as far as banning backpacks. I drew up a petition to this rule, but the school board heard nothing of it. Everyone was on edge and poop t-shirts were no longer funny.
So is there a point to any of this? Sorry to disappoint you, but the answer is no. It’s merely a practice in me trying to pull some memories from behind the cobwebs. There will be more to come, so make sure to remove me from your bookmarks.
Wait, it’s all coming back to me… poop shirt phrase… last night… I’ve got it. There was a purpose, but it got lost in my rant. The wash and wash phrase had me thinking about our attempt to clean 186. After work and some mild grocery shopping, I returned home to find Kyle, “Going for it,” in our bathroom. If you’ve been over lately, you know our bathroom was beyond disgusting. There were numerous discussions regarding its cleanliness, but little resolve. Kyle summoned the gods and knocked out an impressive effort in the bathroom. He even managed to get the last bits of Stevo’s puke from behing the toilet, (this was from Thanksgiving Eve). Kyle’s exertion inspired me. I took to the kitchen and made it my bitch. No cabinet, surface or shelf went unclean. We even tackled the tile floor. Kyle and I wiped down the floor three times after vacuuming it. Then we decided to push it to the limit. We cleaned the living room ceiling fan which is kind of like flying to Pluto; no one has ever attempted it. It took us a half hour to clean that nasty bitch, but with Jesus on our side, we destroyed that motherfucker. We completed the job in the living room and basked in our cleaning supply high of glory.
Despite all our efforts, 186 is still pretty nasty. It’s nearly impossible to make an apartment shine especially if it was previously occupied by slobs. So next time you stop by, please comment on how nice it looks. We need some sort of reassurance that a deep clean, like the one accomplished last night, is well worth our time. Thankfully Noah and Sean stopped in to watch the first half of last night’s Championship massacre. They commented on the pungent smell of bleach and the slickness of our coffee table. Maybe they didn’t, that’s the cleaner talking. Either way, we have washed and washed all day long, but 186 will never be clean.
*** SXSW 2005’s lineup is beginning to see light. It already boasts some stellar acts. I just hope someone can get The Go! Team to stop in NYC before they head south.
*** Clap you hands and say, “Yeah”! No, I’m not talking about the band, I’m just rejoicing at this bit of news, (via Productshop).
*** The Saga Continues.
*** Brits battle for an honor a bit more useless than being Knighted. Which is your favorite “Brit Pop” song? I’m leaning towards Mr. Curtis.
*** I truly hate shit like this. Hipster this. Hipster that. Who gives a shit. Look at my Top 10 favorite records of last year. Does that make me a hipster? Do I care about the label? I just wish it would go away. People make too big of deal about what’s hip. Since when did voicing an opinion become attached to a movement known for white belts, bad haircuts and a delicious beverage.
*** Paul Reuben carefully avoids questioning.
*** Just in case you missed the Pixies reunion, get the scoop from Filter.
*** In case you were wondering, here is Noah Champion’s Top 10 of 2004:
1. A Ghost is Born – Wilco
2. Good News for People who Like Bad News – Modest Mouse
3. Real Gone – Tom Waits
4. Bob Dylan – Live at Carnegie Hall, Bootleg Series
5. Loretta Lynn – Van Lear Rose
6. AC Newman – The Slow Wonder
7. Iron & Wine – Our Endless Numbered Days
8. The Thermals – Fuckin’ A
9. Ted Leo & The Pharmacists – Shake The Streets
10. Animal Collecitive – Sung Tongs
That’s it, I’m going to lunch.
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