I’ll Be President

I’m back on WordPress, at least for today. I was thinking about this old blog on the drive home just now, and thought I’d take a another stab at it. So I skimmed thru some of my old posts, and man what an asshole I was. Just kidding, I’m actually quite brilliant as you could tell from my very last post where I implied that Hot Topic had done wrong by selling Ed Sheeren t-shirts. Oh how controversial the me of 2 years ago was! Before ya know it I’ll be ranting about fake news, and bragging about the size of my……… inauguration  crowd. Jeez, what did ya think I was going to say there? So, I guess I’m saying I’ll be President soon? Yeah, there’s one of those brilliant and very poorly thought out thoughts like I used to churn out at tortoise like speeds. Boy, are you in for a treat !? 

Anyway, in all non seriousness I feel like giving this another shot. If I do it right, I won’t be so obsessive about views, likes and comments. I’ll just write to write. It’d be nice if I found a topic or style that  that expanded beyond this drivel of the mind you’re currently being subjected to, but if not whatever. I like spewing this type of spew anyhoo. If I feel the same way about it tomorrow, you may see more. So, here’s to tomorrow where anything’s possible, even typing 100 or so pointless words on an old blog that the author himself hasn’t seen in 2 years. Wish me luck.



Marc Maron and The Ziplock Purse

I really like the Marc Maron WTF podcast, and last Christmas The Lady gave me Maron’s book, Attempting Normal. Per usual I read the first chapter as soon as I got it, liked it, then for no reason I let it sit there collecting dust for the next few months. 

Last week though I needed a distraction while having to wait in a sterile, official and intimidating setting, so I blew the dust off the paperback cover, tucked it under my arm, and proceeded to my place of obligation. When I arrived I followed the official “GO HERE FOR SUCH AND SUCH” signs, and found a seat. Feeling anxious about the ensuing proceedings, I opened my book, and tried to figure out where I left off since I never use a bookmark for some reason. 

I skimmed past the chapter entitled Two Prostitutes while being interrupted by a pleasant, but obviously crazy young lady who was confused about the start time. How did I know she was crazy? Well, she definitely had the prerequisite wide eyed hyper focused stare, and although she was dressed relatively clean and appropriately, her purse was a ziplock freezer bag through which I could see all of its contents (makeup, bills and Marlboro Menthols). For some reason the translucent purse equaled insanity to me. This probably says more about me than her. Anyway, ziplock girl went away, and I went back to my book. 

I found the chapter entitled Guitar which I vaguely remembered, and decided that must have been where I left off. Feeling annoyed and anxious I tried to ignore the old couple arguing about where to sit, and tried to read. Maron talked about discovering music for the first time in his dad’s station wagon, and how Buddy Holly was a spooky hero that spoke from the grave. I immediately felt a little less anxious, and smiled thinking about a long ride with my dad when he played his Beatles tape the whole way, and music grabbed ahold of me for the first time. 

My happiness was fleeting as a big heavy wooden door opened, and we were ushered into a larger room where my obligation would ultimately be fulfilled. Unfortunately before that could happen there would more waiting. So, again I found a seat, and was careful to be inconspicuous with my coffee, hence the official “NO FOOD OR DRINK” sign. I was so annoyed. Just in a bad mood.  I had been there an hour, and proceedings did not seem to be moving along. Conversation around me of which I did not participate was too loud to resume reading, and centered around complaints and misery related to our shared occupied space. Eventually the noise tapered off and I resumed reading. 

Maron continued to wax poetic about his early experiences with music, and when I got to the part about Chuck Berry my stupid annoying day was completely changed, and a smile came across my face that would stay there the rest of the day. He was talking about how a guy at school had showed him how to play the opening riff to Roll Over Beethoven… 

“I went home and tried it, it worked, and the entire world changed. I had it, the key to music. I was ecstatic. I was probably the only fifteen year old kid in the world in 1977 who was beside himself because he could play a Chuck Berry lick.” 

And I smiled, and closed my book. I understood 100% what he was talking about. I didn’t need to read another word. I was completely at ease, and full of positivity. A fellow traveler had shared an experience that was so relatable and similar to mine, and it gave me a great sense of validation, and connectivity. I was entirely grateful, and my perspective was completely changed for the better. I was even inspired to start blogging again, and did so that very night. 

That’s something good writing, or really any other form of art can do, and I’ll take it as a lesson for this blog going forward. To be able to take people somewhere emotionally where they otherwise would not be is what it’s all about. Thanks to Marc Maron. Attempting Normal is a great read so far.


Blogging About Blogging…. Again

I stopped blogging a few months ago. To be honest I barely even started blogging, but for about 4 months I was a dedicated somewhat active spewer of modern day prose and literary delight. Okay, maybe that’s over stating it. No, that’s way way over-stating it, but I did write here somewhat regularly for a short time. I hadn’t really written anything since high school, but I felt the need to. So, I offered a few half assed opinions, shared some mundane experiences, and basically used it as a long form Twitter. It was kind of like therapy for me, and a way to get my thoughts across without the annoyances of verbal communication. You know, like having to pause your genius stream of insight so that the other person can chime in with their genius totally inferior retort or observation. Writing is great that way. I’m always the smartest and wittiest person in the conversation, and no one can say any different. Shh, comment sections don’t count. 

But seriously, blogging felt good, and eventually I had said what was on my mind, and that was enough. It ran its course. Now I feel the urge again hence this post. Look out world! I just might have something interesting, ridiculous, insightful or completely stupid to say again so stay tuned. I hope the urge lasts. It’s a good thing having your words read, and interacting the other bloggers here. So, here’s to chapter 2 of Poorly Thought Out Thoughts. I intend to be just as poorly thought out as before, so if that sounds like fun to you stick around. Say hi in the comments. I almost always respond and follow blogs with a similar flow or interesting point of view. 

Ima shut up now,