sit down by the window and watch the tornado …
i thought a tornado just blew down my street. trees whipping around like they did during the hurricane. intense … i thought me and lefty were leaving kansas. going behind the purple curtain. but so far, we’re still here.
but we are under a watch. or is it a warning? whatever it is, these weather service announcements keep interrupting my rare, precious time with wolf blitzer. radioactive water pouring into the ocean. libyan power transfers. violence in the ivory coast. yemen. bahrain. jesus, this show is a fucking parade of misery … now i remember why i used to get drunk and scream, ‘fuck wolf blitzer!’ at anyone within earshot. i do remember doing this … sadly.
***
here’s my girl lucinda to make it all better:
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in hustle & flow, terrench howard’s character d-jay calls his down home ole lady a ‘bottom bitch’:
‘that’s a bottom bitch for you. i mean, we got everything we need right here.’
i love that line so much. but i always felt weird saying ‘bottom bitch.’ sounds kinda … objectionable. but he loves her so much in the movie. needs her, in fact. she teaches him who he is. shit like that. throwing bottom bitch around as a term of endearment is all good in the hood, evidently.
so when i hear something so … good. and true. particularly coming from a down home ole lady …
that’s a bottom bitch for you.
***
thankfully, i got all my yard work done prior to the weather reckoning.
that’s twenty bags of leaves, friends and neighbors.
and some other stuff, too. brush. debris. sticks. branches. vines. weeds. detritus.
but fucking leaves, man.
i hate fucking raking leaves. but what i really hate is fucking bagging leaves. oh jesus … fuck me two times and tell me you love me before you send me out to bag some fucking leaves.
back in illinois, you had to rake leaves, sure, but then you could build a big ass fire and burn them. still sucked raking them, but once the big ass fire was going it kind of made it all worthwhile. just stand back and admire your big ass fire.
cause every thing’s better with a big ass fire. right? sitting in traffic, home depot, the dentist, grading papers, fighting with your ole lady … you name it. anything is better with a big ass fire.
shit, i knew a guy once, lived up in the mountains, used to build a fire before he made love. called it his, ‘fucking fire!’ no shit … a ‘fucking fire!’ said it brought him closer to god and his lover. or some bull shit like that. i always thought the brother mighta had a thing for firemen, myself, and was trying to tempt fate to see if a couple of ‘em would show up whilst he was otherwise indisposed.
myself, i’ve never started a fire while making love. literally or figuratively. maybe once or twice, their might have been some light smoldering … left the oven on or a cigarette fell onto the carpet … something like that. i do remember once standing up in bed with a hard on waving a pillow at a wailing fire alarm, but that time we did have to evacuate the building. i remember, because i had to put on socks.
anyway, down here … it sucks. you can’t rake leaves and then build a big ass fire. i suppose that’s a good idea, since there are so many trees and so many leaves that the town would fill with dickensian soot were everyone to burn all their leaves at once.
still … bagging leaves, man. some people have tools. they have these stands that you put a bag in and it holds the bag while you fill the bag with leaves. that helps, i imagine. i don’t have one of those. tried to borrow one from two different neighbors today. no dice.
so i’m down on all fours, holding the bag open with one hand trying to fist a few leaves into the fucking thing and failing miserably. the wind’s blowing my bag closed just as i get to it with my leaves. i’m itchy, mosquitos are biting my ass, the dog keeps throwing his bone right into the pile of leaves that i’m working with.
fucking bagging leaves, man.
***
in other news, the flatbed CDs should be in very soon. jazz fest is coming together. we got some new videos from zach (in which we look like a morose lot if i’ve ever seen one … just a bad day to be filmed. i almost killed everyone in the room that day until i started drinking and the film crew from brooklyn showed up and things got lovely as lovely could be) and some other swag coming soon. t-shirts are looking good, too. we need summer festival gigs. i have no work lined up. and don’t want any.
speaking of zach, the louisiana premiere of ‘lord byron’ was a hoot on friday night. after-party spilled to the rooftop bar, the hilton bar, the (new) indigo bar. some pretty cosmo shit for a friday night in the b.r. … nice clothes. mostly decent behavior. saw some folks i ain’t seen in a long while. good stuff.
the night ended with myself and mr. award winning filmmaker sitting under an umbrella on 3rd street at 3 am eating chili cheese hot dogs and going over the big lebowski line by line, shot by shot like a couple of fucking idiots.
good guy, that zach.
check out his website. check out the trailer.
Tags: flatbed honeymoon · jazz fest · lord byron · lucinda · zach godshall
