"Sometimes the B'ar Eats You..."

I realize the "Big Lebowski" cracks are going to come for a while now.  

I have managed to awaken myself, and the non-alcohol-induced hangover is lifting.  My favored power shake (see the link), and lots of caffeine are working...

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10150155359130787&set=a.21245495786.30322.552340786&type=1&theater

...more problems with the Nexgen system at the Ticket, but other than that disastrous start, the two games went okay, and the Senators won them both.  Goodness, but AA ball is pretty bad, pitching wise.  I've played Little League games where the hurlers had more control!


One dude for the Binghamton Mets literally threw his first pitch 40 FEET away from the plate and nearly hit the guy in the on-deck circle...guess that's a ball.


I remember my first year playing ball, and came to bat against a kid with zero control.  His first pitch sailed on him, and went a good 15 feet over my head.  That was a bit different.  I thought he was trying out his knuckleball.


I was able to finally start the editing of "Silk Road Days."  I do believe this 600 pages of whatever will need to be broken up into three parts.  The first one is fairly easy, I just have to figure out where to make the break.


These can't really be separate books, because all three parts are connected reasonably well.  So much more to deal with there...


Also dropped $200 on my car yesterday, but it was either that or blow a key component of the vehicle.  Well worth it, because at 216,000+ miles, the Silver Saturn is still rocking along damned well.  I do however have to go to the dealership to get the transmission seals fixed.  Joy.


You know, on the running gun battle that's been happening between my friend Riz and her old high school friend Michael...ei yi yi...I think everyone involved in that debate on Facebook, re:  the Wall St. Journal and the YA whining...you know, we just blew so much energy warring.


I fell into it, because I do feel without trying to sound terribly defensive, that I must stand up for the artist in me, and in others.  As I said, the first duty is to the artist, again semi-quoting Zappa.  What do the readers, the market and the others bear beyond the reading and buying, I don't know.


You know, I think we all agree that parents (of which I am not one) have a hard time finding stuff for their kids to read, but kids do have a say in what is and is not.  What is popular is one thing, what is good is in the mind of the reader.  One person's trash is another person's great work.


I think Bret Easton Ellis for example is a sick, pretentious fuck, but so many people think "American Psycho" is one of the greatest books ever written.  Matter of opinion.


For those who have read early drafts of my first book in the Sweet Dreams Series, they range from brilliant to, "I tried to read the first 15 pages, and I just didn't get it."


My friend Ron was quite serious, but he was trying to nice.  That's cool; I appreciate the feedback, good, bad or whatever.


Alice had an interesting thought on the opening scene:  "It reads like an Associated Press report."


Uh-oh.


My journalism training and experience...this is not good.


Add to it, my old and dear friend Sara once said the same thing about an old story I'd written.  More of a reporter's view.


Hmmm...need to get back into the shoes of the person more...


It is interesting, isn't it?  Some people can write terrible prose, and yet it is called the most amazing stuff on Earth.  James Joyce is patently unreadable to me; I tried in high school to read one of his books, I don't even remember what one...the one with Stephen Daedalus in it...it was horrid, and I did not read it.


"Johnny Got His Gun..." I can't remember who wrote it.  Read that in high school, too...horrid prose, no punctuation; but I got the stream of consciousness in the character, so it was kind of, "Okay, I get this."  Depressing story; makes you think about things you don't want to.  Hitler would've ordered that book burned in the 30's, as he did the book by Remarque, "All Quiet on the Western Front."  To me, one of the greatest novels on war and its futility that there will ever be.


Now...a bit more contemporary.  Larry McMurtry's books, and his "He said, She said," style.  Stark, one-line stuff...but it fucking works.


"The Last Picture Show" and "Rhino Ranch" are 45 years apart in release, but they bookend the Duane Moore series.  Both are brilliant, funny, and terribly sad at times.


"Picture Show" in my opinion, should be read by every high school English and Literature class.  If I taught, you would read it, and I would expect some very intelligent and well-thought out reports and discussion, kiddos!


Banana Yoshimoto's "Kitchen" is a book I recently read.  In its simplicity, there is without doubt a beautiful and thought-provoking story.


Now, that all said:  considering that I an writing a series that targets the YA market, you might wonder, "Don't you read any of that?"


First of all:  my agency sees the YA market as the primary target audience, I do not.  These books work for people of all ages.  I don't mind focusing on the YA, but I want people to know it does not matter your age. You will get something I hope from these stories, and my others.


Second:  have I read Harry Potter, or Twilight.


NO.  FUCK NO.


Why?


First of all, I shy away from whatever is popular or trendy; I do not like trends.  Not being a poseur here, I just don't care for what's hot.


I know, Rowling's books are said to be wonderful, and the movies look fantastic, what I have seen of them.  All well and good.


Stephanie Meyer...don't get me started.  Ask Riz, she'll tell you.


I don't hate on Ms. Meyer the way Riz does, but I don't care for poorly-written, sparkly vampire stories.  I care even less for what came after, all the knockoffs, with every publisher signing their version of Meyer's writings.


I don't mean to be arrogant, but you know, every time I was past the Teen section at the Office, and see all the knockoffs, I just say, "I WRITE BETTER THAN THAT SHIT!!!"


And I do.


Not being an asshole, but I know what I put into my stories.  I put a lot of real, and not always entertaining, funny, sun-shiny cracksmoking shit that people expect to have written for them.


This ain't the Hardy Boys, or Nancy Drew, peabrains!  By the way, Joe and Frank were both pansies, y'know...why do you think they never knocked the bottoms of out of Callie and Iola?


Because the girls were lesbians, that's why...;-)


Yeah, I read all the Hardy Boys stuff as a kid, but now I realize how bad formulaic writing can be.  Very dangerous; your creative skills and your soul can be lost.


Journalism does the same thing.  I know what I lost during the years I worked as a reporter and a News Director.  It kills.


Anyway...I don't mean to be pretenious wanker here; I just hope you get what I mean when I tell you that writing may not look like a hard job, but it is mentally, and it can be physically, because the drain you put on yourself can leave you feeling like you just did a workout that would put an MMA fighter's to shame.


I also love what I do.  I love to write, and I love to create a universe that I would like to see, but know that it is not practical.  So I make it as real as I can, with doses of what I feel, I see, I experience and hope to share.


This is what I do.  Get used to it.  And as the Stranger warned, don't let the b'ar eat you...

Over, Under, Sideways, Down...When Will it End?

Oh, it's on now!


The re-recorded Yardbirds tune came onto my Walkman just a few minutes ago.  I do feel like I've been taken over, under, sideways and down the past 12 hours.


I had a talk with Alice that lasted about six hours yesterday, then we had a phone convo that lasted more than an hour.  Relationships!  Well, I'm glad we did have it; I am NOT sharing the lurid details, because they ain't nobody's business but our own.  Suffice to say, things needed to be talked about, and it's all good.


Now...my attempts to edit "Silk Road Days" got about two pages, as I was diverted by other things.  Always something.


OK...I have been castigated as a hypocrite!  Can you believe that shit?  Apparently, my good friend Riz, she of the "Letters from the Disgruntled Fringe" blog has caused the hairs inside the butt of a "Christian" to stand up on end, and oh boy is he up in arms!


He's not too happy with me, either.  Yes, I must be a Visigoth in his Catholic eyes; Riz and I, among others are those who have ground the fine principles of fairness, morality and probity under our Pagan Wheels!


Well, ain't that a muthafuckin' bitch?


This all comes from Riz and her posting on Facebook about that Wall Street Journal writer, bitching about YA novels and what pervs us writers are in general.  I wrote about this in yesterday's blog, "The First Duty."


The Catholic fellow was mostly going on Riz, and I will say he might have a couple of pretty good points.  He did however go off on a rant, more than once about Riz's points of view, and on my blog.  


He was right, it did go off into a rant, but that is how I write on the fly.  Add to it, I was focusing on a specific part of society, which really is out of touch with the world about them.


This guy is a little out of it, too, in my own opinion.  This goes back to another of my recent writings about Child Worship and Child Obsession.  He I fear is far too overprotective of his children; far be it from me to say he is a bad parent, because I honestly do not think he is.  He is doing the best he can, with the tools at hand and what he feels is right.  I can't say ill of that.


I just think he's a bit too obsessed with molding his kids in his own image, and not letting them be children, and also not letting them be the human beings they will be.


We try too damned hard to turn our children into images of ourselves; some parents, and I see a lot of 'em here where I live, who have become so obsessed and paranoid that they become a detriment to their own kids' development.


It's not their fault, again with what tools one has to work with.  You have to realize though...people are gonna leave the nest and be what they'll be.  Is it not better to allow your child to open his/her mind and let them think for themselves?


I don't think a lot of parents do that.  They are so obsessed with controlling every aspect of their kids' lives, then they wonder why the kid flunked out of college, or if they did graduate, why they're back home living in the room they grew up in, unable to find a job beyond the third shift at Wal-Mart, or with thousands of dollars in credit card debt (all of these are actual individuals that I know personally)...and the folks wonder why.


Look in the mirror.  You're all trying, yes, but too hard.


Too often I see parents totally living out their dreams through their kids.  They make their kids what they wish they could have been...they make them play sports, make them go to dance classes, shove them into theatre, slam them into youth ministry and church activities.


Because THE PARENTS were failures at one or all of these, and they fantasize that the kid is THEM.  


Hey, if a kid expresses interest and an aptitude for these things, then wonderful.  If you as a parent can help them along and facilitate this, more power to you!  Just remember:  you cannot be Stage Mommy or Daddy...DON'T use your kids, let them be kids.


This all gets back to the fact that a lot of parents are so megalomaniacal that they monitor every second of their children's lives because they fear there's a pervert around every corner that will warp their fragile little eggshell minds.


As I said to that individual, and this is based on my own interactions with my folks:  the sooner you learn that life is hard, not fair, the better a person you will be.


As a kid, it was hard to get it at first, but I did soon after.  No harm, no foul, no one hurt.


We are also constantly trying to find the BAD in everything!  Everything we don't understand...where's the bad, the evil, the negative, the wrong?  Can't see it, it MUST BE THERE SOMEWHERE, WE HAVE TO FIND IT!!!


I suppose we all are too quick to judge, and rip on each other.  Sometimes, I feel I cannot do but hit back, because I have been called so many things when it comes to what I hold dear.  


"I defend your right to (believe in God), but please know that you're wrong!" -- Jim Jeffries


One opinion...me, it makes me laugh.


I don't agree with Jim on that, but my beliefs are not so simple...but, I know Riz's debate partner would probably say I'm wrong, or worse.


We worry too much, folks...waaaaaayyyyy too much.  We worry about everything we see in the media, we attack what we don't like, and in extreme cases, we try to destroy.


We obsess too much about things that don't matter in the grand scheme of things.  We fear the gov't is out to get us; Christians live in fear that non-Christians and Atheists are out to get them; too many people are busy attacking left and right.


We need to get off our high horses, and start thinking a little bit.  I know, that's hard, and rational, logical thinking is difficult for 99% of our nation, but well...


As human beings, we need to GROW UP.


We need to start seeing each other as human beings.  Now, this is gonna blow your brains, but think about it:


1.  CLOTHES DO NOT MAKE THE PERSON.  I don't give a fuck what you wear or don't wear.  I don't fucking care if you wear a suit or blue jeans; I don't care if your kid wears a school uniform or cutoffs and a t-shirt; and I really don't care what anyone wears.


I make jokes about stuff like that all the time...I certainly am not a fashion plate, nor do I care to be.  You must NEVER judge a person by clothes, hair, skin color, tattoos, whatever.


People for years...my family, one of my old bosses, and others have said my image lends people to feel numerous emotions about me:  fear is one of them.  "You scare people," my old friend Bob once said.  Maybe I do, but if you're gonna judge me on my looks, then I'm sorry...I really don't want anything to do with you, if we have never met.


2.  YOUR RELIGION IS YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, AND SHOULD STAY THAT WAY.


I don't have a problem with people having faith.  It's when you misuse it that I get offended.


I am a Buddhist and a Wiccan...the parallels are very much the same, they really are.  But I'm sure some of you will see me as some chanting hippie or a Satanist.  Your loss.


I DO NOT see all Christians for example, as hateful, obsessive individuals who attack others publicly.  I know many Christians who walk the walk and talk the talk as well.  They go by the belief that Jesus walked about in this world in a quiet manner, and did not attack and assault others.  His anger in terms of tossing the moneychangers out of the temple is one thing...an expression of anger, as Thich Nhat Hanh might say, is using it when it is required.


Taking care of Anger...it is an emotion that is a part of us...you must take care of it as you would yourself.  It doesn't mean you can't feel anger, or express it.  Just do not let it explode.


I have to be fair...my car has a Born Again Pagan sticker on it.  Some people ask me what it actually means, and I'm glad to tell them.  So to be fair, I don't care if people have Jesus or other religious stickers on their car.  Your business.


It's when people leave notes on your car about how "wrong" you are, or veiled threats about repenting, that's where I get ripshit.  Also, I despite people who justify hate and worse at people because they are not "just like them."


3.  SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT HOW EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET YOU, PERSONALLY.


25 years ago, I believed things like that.  As you get older, you do indeed mature, and I've seen the world in a different light.  I am stunned to see so many people, normally who would be among the nicest, most interesting and intelligent people I know, suddenly go off the deep end.


The Rapture...Obama is a Muslim...Black Helicopters...WE'RE BEING WATCHED BY THE GOVERNMENT...the Pagans sacrifice children and animals (yep, I've heard that one)...THEY'RE OUT TO GET ME.........


GROW THE FUCK UP!


The government has more important things to do than worry about some damned unemployed sap who's glued to Fox News and Rush Limbaugh 24/7, the soccer mom who's obsessing over their three kids and their theatre/soccer/MMA practice (joking a little), and the religious wingnut who's stocking an underground bunker with three years' supply of canned goods and bottled water (I know one of those, too, yes I do...we were on jury duty together!).


4...(um, where were we?)


Oh yeah...I'm having to laugh right now.  This has been fun to write, because it helps clear my head, and I surely hope you might be able to do that yourself.  


Breathe, peeps...not every YA novel is going to corrupt your kid's mind...DIDN'T YOU WANT THEM TO READ INSTEAD OF PLAYING VIDEO GAMES, DAMMIT?!?


Not everything Lady Gaga says or does will kill you or your children.  Glenn Beck is not going to preside over the end of the world, unless you choose to follow him.  Obama is not sending the Men in Black to your house tonight (unless of course, you publicly threaten him).


Let's stop worrying so much over every little thing.  Let's open our eyes and see the world for what it is...and let's stop fighting over which God is better than the other...Steve Earle wrote, "God is God,"  and really it's all the same.


All things are the same, just as they were in the past, just in different forms.  Stop being so tight-assed and so paranoid.  We're not all gonna die, not yet; none of this is the end of the world.

The First Duty

To be honest with you, I'm not sure how this blog is going to turn out, and I may go off into a series of different threads, but believe me, I'll try to keep it straight.


In recent weeks, I have been trying very hard not to launch an counterstrike on a section of our society that has proved, like most others, to live in a self-created, self-contained bubble in which anything does not compute to their narrow-minded standards is evil and must be lashed out at.


I suppose all of us do this, to some extent, and it is a reminder to each of us to try and be fair.  Sometimes however, fairness gets thrown out of the ring, because no one wants to listen and no one wants to think.


Oh, excuse me...THINK?  So sorry!  I realize in America, thinking is a very bad thing, especially if you think outside the box.


There is a strata of our world that lives very much in its own little box, and refuses to come out of it, for fear of change, and for fear they might learn something.


I am no longer amazed by the myopic and twisted views of some people who whine, ruminate and pontificate on how the world around the has become so decadent, so permissive, so horrid.


And what do they do?  They throw it all back in the face of the 1960's...those damned hippies!  The Beatles, the college protestors, Abbie Hoffman, and all those radicals that just ruined America...for them.  Because it changed things.


Now...the 60's were how long ago?  


Living in the past is a dangerous thing to do.  An old friend and colleague of mine offered an interesting example of where I live is about...Central Pennsylvania, he says by and large "still thinks Kennedy is president."  


Jay's comment I think means that everyone lives in a different time, where the world must not change, and it must be made to stay that way.  Actually, I think a lot of folks around here think it's still 1952.


They still talk about Communism, reds under the bed, and how terrible civil rights was.  Today, that is exacerbated into anti-gay hate, fear of Obama, fear of black helicopters and that 2012 is the real end of the world.


Columnists, politicians, religious leaders, and especially anyone who is uber-wealthy...now this is America, whether you were born to the money or worked for it, you have no problem from me.  It's yours, do what you will with it.


Most of the people though really do live in another world.  A world of the best of everything:  homes, cars, clothes, you want for nothing.  You were raised to go to private academies, the top universities, you play golf and tennis at the high-dollar country clubs; you have no understanding (or fail to remember) what the other 99% of the nation and the world has to go through day after day.


Here's a good example:  U2 (though the main target is Bono) is getting a lot of flack from Ireland for moving their music publishing company out of the country to avoid paying taxes.  Edge recently called it being "tax efficient."  Bono has been shit on for years for being a pretentious git; I don't know if this argument really is the right one, for whatever it is he does when he's not making music.


I'm also amazed at commentators who decry the horrible world we live in, not realizing that it is the world that left them behind.


The elitist whining about their peers...oh, we are so terribly Mongoloid, aren't we?  How dare the women of a family work?  How dare couples live together who are not married?  How DARE these people think to rise above their station?


They think these things while sitting on their patios in the Hamptons, or wherever they live, in their gated communities, where the only people of color are their servants.  They complain about how awful "THEY" are...they, meaning US.


Everything we do is so wrong in their eyes; the conservatism of these people, their tight-assedness...sports talk show host Colin Cowherd (I think it was him) once said these people are so tight, "they think Applebee's is a strip bar."


And they probably do.


So the point I make?  Recently someone in the Wall St. Journal decided it was time to attack the writers again.   The writers of young adult novels, of which most of my books target.


They decry the "dark" nature, the sexuality, the perversion, all the horrible things that our young people are reading...HORRORS!


They might get ideas...they might start to THINK, OMG NO WE CANNOT HAVE THIS!


They tried this with music, they try it with TV, and they try it with books.


Didn't these people used to whine and bawl that young people didn't read anymore, that all they did was play video games and watch TV?  Isn't this what they wanted?


Now, the Journal's editorial board is run by a separate entity, and right-wing group of zealots who promoted the war, big business, and constantly reminded its readers to fear "the Left."


They have decided now to attack the writers of young adult novels, because OMG what are they doing to our children?


Let me tell you something...the First Amendment and the Constitution are NOT just for the wealthy, the connected, the white, and the powerful.  It is for ALL OF US.


I defy the intellectual bullies who hold nearly all the wealth and power in this country to constantly make us low-class people their whipping boys for everything they don't like.  They have likely never read any of these books they attack anyway...no, they're too busy reading Glenn Beck's latest screed, or Bill O'Reilly's ruminations on why the world can't be like it was when he was a boy.


Then again, why would I not be surprised if they were masturbating to the latest Danielle Steele novel or some churned out, Barbara Cartland knockoff stuff?


Hey, we all have likes and dislikes...if you don't like something, don't read it.  The elitists of course say, that's not enough, where we decide.  


The aim is once again to stifle free thought and free speech.  Free speech in their minds is only so much that THEY allow.  


Well, I plan to not change anything I've written, and I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of that.  I have a right to sit here and within reason write what I damn well please.


I don't make wild threats.  I don't get online and play Internet Troll and attack people from an anonymous screen name.  I say what I say, and I stand by it.


Frank Zappa once said, and this is paraphrasing, that the first duty an artist has is to the artist him/herself.  We write, paint, show, produce what we want...if you like it, great.  If not, that's fine, too, at least in my view.


I gather this latest whinefest by the Journal will be passed by, but the concern is that some will try another purging of society, the way the Nazis did in Germany.  A little book burning, anyone?


The right to think and the right to doubt must never be taken away...what is worse, is if you willingly give it up.

Annapolis/Jersey Shore Aftermath, the Big Lebowski, and More Strange Threads

Well, it's Saturday and I have to get ready to get back to work.  WITF has me this weekend; and KYW sports updates will be my second shift job for the next two days.  Back to normal...I doubt it.


Walkman time:  "A Growing Time," by Dan Fogelberg.  From the posthumous album he was working on and finished before he passed on.  Typical Fogelberg; but it's really a very good song.


Okay...again I wish to thank everyone for their support during a very trying time.  That trip to Annapolis was not a total loss, because the rough draft of "Silk Road Days" was completed before the shit really hit the fan.  I am going to eventually read the book, and make notes as I consider what to do to make a 600 page story worth reading.


I think it will be a three part story, and that's about all I can think of that will make it work.  It rather is in three parts anyway, so I believe it will go well.


"Don't Want to Fight," by Alvin Lee.  Nice...from the fantastic "Detroit Diesel" album.


I have not heard from the hotel; I have sent a message to first praise the manager for her calmness under pressure.  Also to see about a refund, and see what else can be done.  I am also seeking a copy of the police report, just in case I need some kind of record of what went down from the officer's point of view.


The cops by the way, while legitmately tough dudes (not boys you want on your bad side), were very professional and understand.  I really appreciate how they handled it, and went to a great length to find out that the accusers were a bunch of liars and attention seekers.  Add to it, their parents are a pack of sorry individuals.


I would love to know what school district or districts these individuals "represented."  Because they represented their school or schools, and their state very badly.  I am so tempted to find out, so I can send letters to their school boards and superintendents, to let them know what Grade A Assholes were sent off for a trip.


I wonder if that will be the subject of discussion, and whether those shits have queered the deal for the good kids who deserve a trip somewhere.  Wonder if they'll ever do any of those trips again.


Anyway, I really don't care because there was nothing I could be charged with, I did nothing wrong.  At all.  Period.


"Woke Up Dreaming," by Joe Bonamassa...fabulous guitar work.  This guy is way more than a blues guitarist.  


The tone changes with the music, hmmm...okay, on Friday I went up to visit Alice at her place, and we had a nice time.  She has been raving about "The Big Lebowski."  I've never seen it, til now.


A brilliant, bizarre, and well crafted crazy flick.  Jeff Bridges is fantastic, John Goodman did a fabulous job, in fact everyone in the film did damn well.  The odd cameos by Sam Elliott (straight out of Lonesome Dove) were a great add.


Loved it; great to see Jimmie Dale Gilmore in a brief acting role, and the scene where Goodman pulls heat on him over a bowling match is just weird as shit.


I also got to turn Alice on to Jim Jeffries, as his HBO special, "I Swear to God."  She digs him now.


We got to talk, have dinner, etc.  Alice is okay; she dumped her bike the night before on her way back from a show.  A little banged up, but she and the bike survived, thankfully.  Wasn't her fault; some dipshit slammed on his breaks, forcing a big rig to do the same, and that's what caused Alice to wreck.


Also got the new Bruce Cockburn CD, "A Small Source of Comfort."  Fantastic package, yet again.  Bruce is a big influence on me, and I generally snag anything he puts out.


I took a chance, as I'm wont to do:  Vusi Malahsela has a new CD called "Say Africa."  An amazing folk/African album; Taj Mahal produced and Angelique Kidjo guests on it.  Really special recording, with some fine songs.  


So...what now do I do?  I have to carry on, despite the lingering weirdness that stays with you when something really fucked up happens.  I just have to move forward with my life, and leave it as experience.


Unless that hotel offers me something, I will NEVER stay in a big chain hotel ever again.  The only one I will is one in Cambridge, because it is well staffed, the rooms are quiet and security does not take shit from shit, you dig?


True, you cannot pick your fellow guests, but you can minimize the risk and the bullshit.  When you put large numbers of people:  convention-goers, class trips, rock bands and their crews or sports teams, you are in for trouble.  Especially when alcohol is added to the mix.


You should read my June 2 blogs to get the full rundown if you don't know.


Urgh...I am again trying to look ahead here.  "Silk Road Days" is working on the brain, and I can't imagine myself writing anything new for a while, even thought I've some ideas in the can.


I also have to consider editing and rewriting of SDS-1, aka "Sweet Dreams:  Searching for Roy Buchanan."  I sense one day soon I will have a deal to get this book out, but before that, rewrites and whatever else will be required.  I'm ready as I'll ever be.


"Long Hauls and Close Calls," by Hank III...scary weird shit.

Annapolis, Silk Road Days, Being Stalked, Attacked and Questioned by the Police...And a Few Thoughts About New Jersey

Well, well, well...wherever do I begin?  It's about 8 am; I'm back in PA, after my short mini-vacation was utterly trashed by some individuals I'll talk about in a minute.

I took a two-day trip down to Annapolis, MD for a Writer's Retreat.  I wrote about this earlier; the aim was to get away, relax, finish the rough draft of "Silk Road Days," and have a little fun.

Well...the first part of the trip was okay.  I was staying at a large chain hotel, because the price was right.  Not a bad place, really; nice staff, clean room, though the restaurant fare left much to be desired.

I got to see a bit of Annapolis, which was cool, saw some the Naval Academy points of interest, but was not really there to be a tourist.  I was there to work.

The good news is:  I did finish the rough cut of "Silk Road Days."  This is an extremely long, rambling bit of fiction, and I have a lot of work to do to get it beaten into shape.  To get it done, though, very big accomplishment.

Here's where the trouble began...yesterday afternoon, four (at least) busloads of kids were brought in...13 year olds, with a woefully inadequate number of parental units as alleged chaperones.  I soon learned the parents were out for fun a lot more than the brats.

Four of the kids were ensconced in the room next to mine; early evening or thereabouts, I'm aware of this screeching, crashing and banging out in the room next door, the hallway and up and down the hall.

I kept hearing someone say, 'Shhh,' or words to that effect, because at least one of them knew they were too loud.  It just kept on.

I finally had enough.  I went to my door, opened it, looked into a now empty hall, and said to no one, "What the fuck is going on out here?"

Ok, probably shouldn't have said, "Fuck," but considering these retards were from, it's every other word for some of them.

To my left, from the room, next door, I see a pair of girl's eyes peering out at me, and the door slams.  Ah-ha...well, I left it at that.

Not long after I came out and found all four of the girls, door of their room open, standing in the foyer and the bathroom...I asked what was going on out here, and they denied anything happening.

Liars.  Bad liars. 

Still, I let it slide.  At about 8:30, I left to get dinner and to try and finish the draft.  As I left, there they all were; again, door open, queued in the bathroom to get mirror space.  All not wearing very much (13, remember that), and some looking like they were wearing their mother's uncool from the 80's bustiers and shit.

I apologized to them, in case I'd scared them.  They said no problem; I was curious, I had to ask what they were up to, and they said they were part of a class trip.  Cool; I left, no problem, right?

WRONG.

I go get dinner, and I sit and finish the script.  Relief!  I get back about 10...now, the kids were having some kind of party in the first floor banquet room...and yeah, I rode down in an elevator full of kids, mostly girls to this thing.

The alleged parents were around, but really were spending more time hanging out amongst themselves, and as time went on proved they were NOT looking out for their charges, but more intent on looking our for what THEY wanted to do.

More on that in a moment.

Gotta love these alleged parents...all swaggering around the hotel in their knickers, their t-shirts, their gangsta tattoos and gold chains...oh yeah, and that's not just the men, either.

The kids are all precancerous orange/brown in color from the sun and tanning booths, all stick figure thin, all hair, braces and skin.

So anyway...I get back.  Party's in full swing, and there's a few adults hanging out.  I go upstairs to my room, turn on the Stanley Cup Playoff (fantastic finish, by the way, feel sorry for Tim Thomas, there was no way he was gonna stop that puck), and I'm playing my guitar.  Not loud, not at all.

Well, I realize that outside MY door are four adults...three women and a man.  They're just standing out there, doing nothing, loitering.  Didn't realize why.

Anyway, I talk to Alice by phone, and she tells me about her night as a costume tech for "Beauty and the Beast."  Someone apparently got hurt; I'm on my cell as I leave the room to get ice, and I say to Alice, "It's not a good show unless someone gets hurt."

Humor...irony...WHAT PART OF IRONY DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, BALDRICK?!?

About 11, I am getting ready for bed, when there is a knock on my door.  Two very large police officers are there, and want to talk to me.

WTF is this?

I let them in...they tell me that some of the alleged parents had ordered the hotel to call them about me.

I was questioned...my ID was taken and run by one of the officers...I was asked about my interaction with the girls.

"Did you touch any of them?"

I categorically denied any such thing, and I explained exactly what I have written above here.  So I'm stuck in my room, while the cops go around and ask more questions.  They come back, they leave, they come back, they leave.

Then the hotel manager calls my room.  She informs me that the parents claimed I had made threats against their children; the conversation those four parents overheard me having with Alice made them think I was planning something.

Apparently, those four girls started flapping their gums, and embellishing their tale.  It passed from person to person, getting more and more outrageous with each telling.

The manager, a lovely young lady was on my side.  She said there was absolutely nothing to this bullshit, but to diffuse the matter, she offered to move me to a room on the Club level, or the top floor.

I agreed to this, and the officer in charge took me up there.  He was as disgusted as I was; the story changed time and time again as he and his partner questioned the kids and the alleged adults.

No charges, no arrest, a lot of bullshit and blather over nothing.

Well...I didn't realize what potential danger I was in until I checked out.

I could not sleep.  I got up at 4:30 to leave, and I did this just to take myself out of the equation.  I did not want to run into any of these ignorant turds, and I did want to see the manager before she left for the night.

This lady was really sorry about what had happened.  I had been very badly wronged, the police had been called for nothing, and then I found out what she had to deal with down in the lobby that night.

She described it as a "lynch mob."  The mostly-inebriated alleged parents were after me; they had stalked me, staked out my room, and were looking for anything to get me on.  They were convinced I had molested or otherwise done something to one of their little darlings (which they cared fuck all about a few hours ago while chasing means to increase their blood-alcohol level), and they wanted me out of the hotel, under arrest, or dead if possible.

Now, they never found out my name, because hotel policy is no personal information is allowed out, despite their demands.  A lot of those alleged parents had been out drinking; because at 11 they came back from somewhere and were upset that they could not keep drinking because the hotel bar had closed.

Really looking after all those kids, aren't they?  Letting the little brats run wild through the hotel all night long, while they're out getting trashed. 

I guess they were pretty pissed off, and wanted me badly.  I don't believe they threatened me specifically; I would have been told if they had, and criminal threatening is a felony.

Guess where those busloads of greasy, oily, tattoo wearing dirtbags were from?  NEW JERSEY.

Now, to my friends who are from there and who live there, this is not about you; I know you, you are my friends and I know your character.  I also know this rabble of small-town, "Jersey Shore" wannabes do NOT represent all the population of your state.  But they sure do give it a bad name.

Of course, when members of said state have found God in Springsteen and Bon Jovi, and who think that Snooki, Vinnie and j-wow are cultural icons, well, that makes me wonder.

These people, these alleged adults who were entrusted to look after four busloads of barely teenage kids on a trip, were more interested in getting drunk, hanging out and partying on their own...they seemed rather content to let the hotel be the babysitter to their kids by and large.

Then the kids act up...someone (me) stands up for his right to have peace and quiet in a room that HE PAID FOR WITH HIS OWN MONEY (fuck knows where they got theirs), only to be stalked, attacked and treated like shit by a bunch of absentee watchers who suddenly smell their testosterone seeping through their nadds and their clits.

Sorry, but to be attacked like that, and the possibility of what bodily harm I might have faced if the wrong person of that group was in the hallway that night?

You have to think of the potential situation, and how violent it might have gotten.

So I left...perhaps this is overreaching, but I feel like shit.  I have been denigrated, my privacy was violated by their snooping and stalking, and I had to be moved to another room when that whole fucking rabble should have been forced to spend the night sleeping on their buses!

Fuck them.

Know what it was like to be in the vicinity of those jerks?  The sight and smell was enough for me:  take a quart of motor oil and five pounds of dirt; pour it all over your naked body, rub it in and just inhale.

That's what they looked and smelled like; I don't ever want to be near that again.

This is NOT a slur on all New Jersey people, nor on any ethnic group.

This is me, pissed off and doubting that humanity has any real character left in it.  Take a rumor, take a lie, take a half-truth, mix with alcohol, and watch out.

Fuck all those people.  If there's a Hell, I'll be there to welcome them in.  Scum.

I am still angry, can you tell?  I don't like feeling this way, and I don't like having my character unfairly attacked.  This is junior high school bullshit, when the loudmouth kid starts a rumor and starts repeating it, shouting it on the bus, screaming it in the halls, screaming it in your face, and knowing that the teachers don't give a fuck?

That's what these losers behaved like; adults in age, but not in maturity.

I have little faith in humanity anymore.  This is what we have descended to.  Lovely.

Discrimination is a Bitch, and So Am I!

I really should not be blogging right now...I am too angry, insulted and pissed off.


I have been the subject of questioning by the local police this evening, because of the overreactions of a bunch of alleged parents who were NOT looking out for their young charges, but probably doing fuck all else but their enlisted responsibility.


Add to it, four of them listened in on a cellphone conversation that was none of their business, and deduced I was planning something.


Fear not:  no arrests, no charges, and the hotel is falling all over itself to apologize to me.  Very nice.


Now, I would just like ONE of those fucking "adults" to look me in the eye tomorrow and apologize.  I won't hold my breath.


I'll blog later today, once I leave this town.  I have had it up to here with being judged by my appearance, and by the fact I stood up for myself and the right to a little peace and quiet in a room I paid good money for.