draft cards
Are you going to Scarborough Faire?
I'm teaching myself to play Scarborough Faire on the Irish whistle. It's hard to find time to practice, but I'm getting better-slowly.
Are you going to Scarborough Faire?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lived there.
She once was a true love of mine.
Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Without no seams, nor fine needle work.
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a basket of flowers
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to to find me an acre of land.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Plow the land with the horn of a lamb.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Have her reap it with a sickle of leather.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a bunch of heather.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
If she tells me she can't, then I'll reply.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Let me know, that at least she will try.
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks.
And I must know she's true love of mine
When thou has finished thy task.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me my hand for to ask.
For then you'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Ask her to do me this courtesy,
Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And ask for a like favor from me,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Search for simplicity
School is sure taking up a lot of my time. I fear I may be losing some of my spontinaeity. And the uncertainty about majors doesn't help much. It sickens me a little when I find myself contemplating a career that I don't really like that much, just because it pays well. I hate it when I find myself taken in by that capitalistic disease. Sometimes I wish I could just drop out and live on a commune and be happy and simple and write for the rest of my life, but the great alternatives that existed for pure spirits back in the 60s and 70s don't exist anymore. At least not like they used to.
One good thing I've discovered so far is the coffee shop on campus. And they have my comfort drink-chai. Now if only they could make it with soymilk...but I can't complain.
Liberal Arts major=draft dodger
I feel like doing something out of character this week, like auditioning for a play.
I'm supposed to write a narrative about a paradigm shift of a sort and I have writers block. I know what to write about, but no idea how to start. I haven't written prose in a long time.
Oh, and due to some advice I've gotten recently, the next time I see dobro guy, I'm going to walk up and say something so witty he'll just have to love me. Or just point and stutter, whichever comes first.
First day of school
I missed my bus this morning. By only 2 minutes, but the buses here are so punctual and not at all like subways. They don't wait for 5 minutes, but rather take off if nobody is sitting at the stop. Classes were good; I thrive in a classroom, but navigation was a bit tricky as I'm not quite familiar with the building. I found out later I was walking way out of my way, but it's not my fault that the school building is shaped like an ameoba.
I saw the dobro player again. Well, glimpsed, really. He was in the art gallery, contemplatively looking up at a large metal installation piece. Quite a kodak moment. He's got to have a girlfriend. He's too perfect. Then again I don't know him yet. Drawing from my good buddy dahar's experience, he could have personality snags.Still have to find a guy to take with me to HAIR in November. But I have some time. I met a guy today and went with him to some lady's house. He is an editor for the Peoria Heights Gazette and I figure to get some experience under my belt, he's my Ray Manzarek so to speak.I still don't know about this whole journalism major thing. I don't like newspapers. I want to work in magazines, but I'll just ride the wave and see where it takes me.
For those of you who have no idea what a dobro is.
& nbsp; &n bsp; &nb sp; &nbs p; ; 
Technology is spooky
I have a new computer! Actually it's "newsed" as I call it. New to me, but used before. It's just an old dell that I bought off an accountant for 60 bucks so I could have something to mess around with when school started. The weird thing is that I put it in the "cave" downstairs and sleeping next to a dormant computer is the spookiest thing. It's like I expect it to do something to me. It's too smart to be that dumb, and just sit there, looking benign. I'm paranoid, I guess. Raised in a hippie family that hates technology makes you paranoid of stuff that involves wires.
Out of order
I've been unwell since Wednesday, and just now getting out of the strange self-isolation that is the state of being sick. It started out as an ordinary cold that I caught from my sister, but I have a weakness when it comes to the lungs, and it spread to a bronchical thing. But who wants to hear about some miserable whoo-ha. I'm well and that's all that matters.
I indulged my inner child when I was sick and rented a bunch of muppet movies. Smiling always makes me feel better. My favorite has to be just old episodes of the Muppet Show. Second to that is Muppet Treasure Island. When I was a little kid, I used to have a crush on Kermit. He just looked so dapper in his trenchcoat and with that little microphone.
Haiku
The by-myself time lately has made in in the mood to write haiku, which are my favorite form of poerty, I think, with free verse coming in a close second. One I wrote just now-
Crisper air fills lung-
Soothing softly stinging throat
Time again for change
I'm a novice, and still learning how to make them sound less elementary, but the simplicity and their ability to evoke a single moment or feeling is what I love. It's how I think. In moments.
Orientation
Back to college-yay and ho hum at the same time. Yay because I'm tired of my fallow mind. I need knowledge! (I bought my books yesterday and am already reading one for my Journalism class) Ho hum because now I'm poor. But being poor isn't such a drag. It's just mildly irritating. I'm reading "All the President's Men" and it seems very interesting and a sneak peek into the government at it's worst and best. I'm also reading poetry by Arthur Rimbaud and some Kurt Vonnegut (as usual). The hardest part I think is deciding which book to read! I wish I could read all 3 simultaneously. I'd have to get some sort of stand or something....
Side note-at orientation I saw a guy I had seen two days previously as a street musician playing a dobro and singing "Rocky Raccoon" by the Beatles. Absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Long blond hair and a nice smile. But who am I kidding? A guy like that has to have a girlfriend. Either that or be gay. They just don't make single guys like that. Well, if anything, he'll be nice eye candy on campus.
Below is a pic of Sebastian Bach. Just to illustrate the fact that long haired guys are yummy.
Peace Frog
Well I went to the Doors tribute band on saturday. I couldn't believe they came all the way from Venice. I tell you what, the lead singer, the guy who did the Morrsion thing definately studied. He may have some resemblence, but his main ally was the insanely accurate way he mastered every affectation, every stage movement that Jim had. There was a point in the concert where he turned his back, and my eyes got fuzzy for a second (probably due to the haze of pot smoke) and he was Jim. The mainly redneck population didn't handle the beer garden too well, and true to any concert, cops were pushing people off the stage. The only deviation I saw was that when things got a little rough in the crowd, (due to one drunk guy who obviously couldn't hold his liquer very well), the lead singer actually stopped the song and told everyone to mellow out. I thought it was a good thing to break out of character for that split moment, to break the spell that lay over the crowd and remind them that this wasn't Jim, and this wasn't the Doors. The only other small thing that bothered me was the lead drank his beer out of a plastic cup. Jim always drank out of the bottle. But that's just me being picky. All in all, great show, good music, and impeccable stage prescence. Definately worth it.
After all these years-he still likes to be on camera
http://www.rockandrollbadboy.com/morrison.html" title="http://www.rockandrollbadboy.com/morrison.html" target="_blank"http://www.rockandrollbadboy....
The saddest day in the history of our planet
Happy new year for all my friends around the world.
The bald kid
One of the mothers of a former classmate of mine came to our house to visit, bringing her 1 year old granddaughter with her. At first I was dissapointed, but now I can't believe how irresponsible the kid was in bringing another life around and dumping it on her mother. I looked at that child and wondered what she will think years from now when she remembers her childhood. I can't believe how deeply saddening it is to see something like that. Let's just hope the kid grows up without any lasting emotional scars. If I was able to, I'd take care of the poor thing. I'd love her like a mother should. But my life has no room for a baby right now. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever have offspring. All in good time, I guess. I'm a patient person. I'll wait.
Am I suicidal?
Last night as soon as I got home I buried myself in a 100 year old text concerning the scientific process of palm reading for 4 hours. I didn't realize that much time had gone until I looked up at the clock. I had found the book in the basement of the library where I work, hidden in a dark corner so remote that I barely could read the spines. It was incredibly engrossing, and I was focused, determined to interprete my palm. What spurred me on to this curiousity, I'm not quite sure, but what I found out made me look at myself a bit differently. Every inch of my hand was considered and classified. Even the fingers. Most of what I discovered was spookily accurrate. The basic stuff highlighted my love for the artistic and love of pleasure, and an unusually revved-up sex drive, but when getting to the nitty gritty like life expectancy and success, the interpretations became suddenly foreboding and strange. My life expectancy was very long, near 90 years at first glance, but the part that told how you would die was bleak. My type was almost always found on suicides. It sort of contradicted each other. It caused me to think, Am I suicidal? Another less pleasant message was found in the area of success. It said my career would be easy as pie until age 30, when things would get rough. Another line confirmed that I must hurry to do everything I need to before age thirty. So now I have a sense of urgency. I still don't know what to make of all of it, but it sure is something. I feel like a strange door has been opened and I've had a bit of a glimpse.
Life is laughter
His humour is so humanistic that everyone could imagine themselves making the same mistakes. Pints up to a great Italian actor!
Full Moon, Clear sky.
Saturday night I was feeling a bit lonely so I plopped myself in the hammock in my backyard and moon-bathed. The ground was wet and sweet smelling and It was relaxing and invigorating at once. My weekend basically consisted of hiding out in the basement during the day and moonbathing at night. Not much of a weekend in city terms, but a nice respite, nonetheless.
I'm looking forward to next week as there's a Doors cover band playing down by the riverfront. It'll be interesting to see if Jim's spirit hangs around.
