Ken's Diary of Fun and Bitterness

2006-01-15 - 9:37 p.m.

Cause I have nothing of note to say on my own.

Simmer down, oh control your temper
Simmer down, for the battle will be hotter
Simmer down, can you hear what I say
Simmer down, oh that I'm a leaving you today
Simmer down.

Bob Marley- Simmer Down

Contrary to the opinions of some folks, I do NOT in fact lead a more interesting or fascinating life most of the time. I spent the whole of this week going to work,working, coming home from work, and playing Guitar Hero. I am dull, not that that should surprise any of you. My job isn't even cooler than whatever you're doing, when you think about it. Same shit, different locale. My boss is a psycho hose-beast, the hours are wrong, and the pay is wrong. The only real difference is I get to wear jeans and I deal with lunatic bikers rather than uptight corporate assholes. I suppose I can work with that. It's just a short term thing anyway.

These are places that are gone
Now we can go on and on
Back before you knew me well
I was trapped inside a shell
This time tomorrow we'll be gone
I just can't put my finger on
My destination's not so clear
I just want to get way out of here

Tommy Keene- Places That Are Gone (Covered by the Poppin' Wheelies, a sideproject of Robin Wilson, the lead singer of the Gin Blossoms)

I can't decide if Robin Wilson's obsession with Tommy Keene is healthy or not. I'm leaning toward no.

UPTAs are less than 2 weeks away, with Statewides the week after, if i decide to go to those as well. I guess it's time for the obligatory annual routine where I psych myself up by boring the hell out of all of you with the exact same routine as previous years. Ok. My travel is arranged, I think I know what to wear, my headshots are in, I even got a Mary Kay makeover today (seriously) and no, I don't feel ready. Time limit is only 90 seconds this time, meaning i have to prepare a different audition set. And no, i haven't finalized it yet. I have enough pieces memorized for all the callbacks, except I should work on a couple more shakespeares, but my 90 seconds is still stumping me. What to do, will it be the right time, all that. At least this time I'm starting preparations more swiftly than i had in previous years. I just can't blow this one. So I won't let myself.

I hope.

I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser
I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out
I'm so brave, too bad I'm a baby
I'm so fly, that's probably why it
Feels just like I'm falling for the first time

I'm so green, it's really amazing
I'm so clean, too bad I can't get all the dirt off of me.
I'm so sane, it's driving me crazy
It's so strange, I can't believe it
Feels just like I'm falling for the first time

Barenaked Ladies- Falling For The First Time

That one's my favorite, but I can't decide if it's an honest reaction or if it was designed to draw that kind of reaction out of people. You know, more so than most are designed to draw a certain kind of reaction out of folks. I think I'm gonna give them the benefit of the doubt here.

For the record, Guitar Hero is a far better game than DDR ever will be. Instead of dancing around like a friggin' moron on a step pad, you can play Texas Flood. Well, you can try. It sure beats the hell out of the embarrassment of someone walking in on you air guitaring.
Brook got karaoke revolution, and now we're thinking of having an open mic night party revolving around music games. Told you I was lame.

Rocket, rocket, the flowers of death and the gin-tainted breath of don juan
Rocket, rocket, the people should know that the radar won't show where you are
Now that I've found you I'm learning the sound to explain how you are
I'm a soul�Built on reactions and fatal attractions and phony hopes

Primitive Radio Gods- Rocket

I prefer whiskey, or even whisky, thank you very much.

So I saw Syriana on Friday night. I'm at a loss. Not about the movie, it was great, if for no other reason than that it wasn't a "Towelheads are godless freedom haters" kind of propaganda movie. No, what confuses the hell out of me is, when the hell did George Clooney become a legitimate artist? Last I checked, he was doing voiceovers for beer commercials and ruining the batman franchise and coasting by in remakes of classic movies, which is a step up from starring in something with J.Lo, i guess. But this year I've seen Syriana and Good Night and Good Luck, both of which he had a hand in producing/writing, and they've both been amazingly good. What the hell? my head is gonna explode. I have to actually RESPECT George Clooney now, at least as a performer. Dude knows how to make movies. I can no longer simply think of him as an older Ben Affleck. Damn.

Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn�t died
Give me, give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied, satisfied

Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You are always on my mind

Always On My Mind (The Willie Nelson version, not the Elvis one)

Yes indeedy, I did get a makeover today. No, I'm not taking this time to make any special announcements. The long and the short is, I met a girl who does that crap, and I've always had a problem with stage makeup making me break out badly and/or not washing off cleanly (wouldn't you rather I just said i was gay than gave you that image? Oh well. It beats whoring for free gayming cards like some folks I know) and I had a chance to have a moderately hot chick show me some stuff I might be able to use, all for free. I just had to pose for before and after shots for her portfolio. Fair trade, says I.

Raven's mystery opponent tonight is X-pac. You can practically smell the apathy. Except for that dude with a Brokeback Mountain sign. That just makes me snicker. Check out the Chyna sex tape if you don't get it.

Well, why don�t you love me like you used to do
How come you treat me like a worn out shoe
My hair�s still curly and my eyes are still blue
why don�t you love me like you used to do.

Why don�t you spark me like you used to do
And say sweet nothin�s like you used to coo
I�m the same old trouble that you�ve always been through
So, why don�t you love me like you used to do.

Hank Williams- Why Don't You Love Me (And no, I'm not picking these- there are 1400 songs in my playlist, but more than 100 of them are Hank. one had to come up eventually)

"You do like the sad Hank songs, don't you?"

Yes, yes I do. And I can't listen to Johnny Cash's cover of "I'm so lonesome I could cry" without having the disturbing thought that Nick Cave somehow had a hand in killing Johnny Cash. But maybe that's just cause I hate Nick Cave. It's definitely time for more wine.

I find it nicely comforting that the most annoyingly overrated and overhyped player possibly in the history of football, Peyton Manning, will once again come no closer to the superbowl than possibly seats on the 50 yard line yet again.

There�s no use in me a-cryin�.
I�ve done everything and I�m sick of tryin�.
I�ve thrown away my nights,
Wasted all my days over you

Now you go your way and I�ll go mine
Now and forever till the end of time.
I�ll find somebody new and baby, we�ll say we�re through
And you won�t matter anymore

Buddy Holly- It Doesn't Matter Anymore (though I think Paul Anka wrote this. Paul Anka writes everything.)

I keep having the worst luck at work. I mean, aside from the office politics and the psycho hosebeast boss. See, I'm not a Harley guy. THat's actually a massive understatement. I hate cars, and trucks and things that go (though I love Richard Scary. Geez, that one was obscure. If anyone gets that, I'll be rightly impressed) would be a more appropropriate way to put it. But I can PRETEND to give a crap, for the most part, and I can learn enough about these things to give tours of the factory.

Except

The first tour I guided during my training time. I spent all of my first week following other tour guides and listening to their tours. Monday Dick turns to me and goes "There's only 2 folks on this tour. You wanna take a crack at this one? i think you're ready."

"Ok," I said.

As we're getting ready to head onto the floor, I do the obligatory small talk.
"Now, we'll be walking around for about half an hour while I show you the assembly line. Do you ride a bike, sir?"
"Yes, I have a harley somethingorother"
"Where are you from?"
"I live here in MIlwaukee. I actually work here."
"Really? Where doyou work?"
"I work 2nd shift on the assembly line. I just have the day off and want to show my wife where I work."

Shit. THis is gonna suck. He's more qualified to give this tour than I am. The wince of sympathy of Dick's face was really the most telling part. He almost offered to do this one for me, but I gutted it out. And yeah, I royally sucked, though I seemed to fake it well enough that i was deemed ready to take groups out on my own. Ever since, every other group I get has at least one gearhead that builds his own bikes, including machining his own parts who ask me technical questions I don't even understand, let alone would be qualified to answer. My last tour on Friday, the guy told ME more about the process of building a transmission than I have ever told all my other groups combined.

Heh. Too bad I really don't give a crap. I could learn a lot if I cared.

Oh, anyone want harley crap? we don't get a ton of free crap, but anyone wanting free literature, buttons, posters, and other assorted giveaway garbage can be hooked up. and i'll put together a mental shopping list of stuff that i can "borrow" on my last day (cue maniacal laughter)

How have I been,how have you been
It's been so long
What have you done with all your time
And what went wrong

I knew you back when
And you ... you knew me
And now I think I'm sick and I wanna go home

Green Day- Eminius Sleepus

I had a conversation in my kitchen a few weeks ago about how people drift apart, and how it's rarely out of animosity, just out of a lack of time and energy and room in your life for people who aren't there to remind you of their existence all the time. Personally, I blame video games and the fact that most people aren't worth keeping up with anyway.

Say what you will about him (and yes, for the most part he sucks, in spite of his...history with my mom.) but he did write quite possibly the most efficient song in human history. By efficient, I mean that in the span of a chorus and the second verse, he managed to deliver all the advice a person will ever need in their life. Lately, I've come to realize that I've been a bit lax in the "fold 'em" part, for various reasons. The actual cardplayer in me gets a bit arrogant sometimes (understatement) about my ability to come out on top. Sometimes it makes me overplay my hand a bit, just cause I won't concede defeat. But I think that I'm getting a bit better now. Folding's just fine when you get in too deep. So don't totally dismiss Kenny Rogers. He does give fine advice.

And I'm gonna leave us with that. The experiment is over, this has gone on too long, and one of my childhood idols is about to appear on tv for the first time in a couple years.

"I'm really just an overgrown 12 year old."

Ain't that the truth. And I'll always be a little Stinger.

Ken

on a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness
'til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, "son, i've made a life out of readin' people's faces,
And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.
So if you don't mind my sayin', i can see you're out of aces.
For a taste of your whiskey i'll give you some advice."

So i handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.
Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.
And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.
Said, "if you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Now ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep.
'cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."

So when he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,
Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.
And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words i found an ace that i could keep.

Kenny Rogers- The Gambler

�

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