Thursday, April 30, 2009

Mrs. Henry, I'm ready for the broom

"City's just a jungle, more games to play
Trapped in the heart of it, trying to get away
I was raised in the country, I been workin' in the town
I been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down"

Mississippi - Tell Tale Signs (Time out of Mind Outtake) - 2008

I recall the first time I left DC, I let out a huge sigh of relief on the drive up 95 to my hometown. "Glad I'm out of that mess, think I left just in time" I said to myself. And then a few years pass and as life goes, maggie moved me out of the cozy confines of new york city and back into the dreaded swamp of the district.

Somehow foolishly I thought maybe a few years older I'd take a better shine to the fear and loathing of politics. No dice, the depravity down here is at a sinister level never to be tempted by any sane person with less then 2 masters degrees and more then a shtickel of asshole repellent. The Douchebags, of course, love the place.

It's where the term inorganic probably originated, the city streets themselves designed and placed just so, not a stop sign out of place. But like the swamp the city was formed upon, the place just stinks of inauthenticity. The people are very fake, very unoriginial and utterly obsessed with themselves and their gooberific fight for the smallest curmodgeon of self importance.

In a recent interview Dylan noted, "Politics is for the well heeled and well groomed. The immacuatly dressed." Well, I'm none of those things. I pine for the long dusty road home. Til then, just gonna keep on keeping on.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Bobby D

First post.  Thanks for the inclusion, Chach.  Believe it or not I am not listening to Bob as I type this here post.  Actually, Billy Joel's recount of recent history "We Didn't Start The Fire" blares from my apartment stereo bringing it all back home.
But more to the point--Bob Dylan.  What can I say?  Genius, reclusive hero, a gem in a barren pop cultural wasteland.  I posed a certain question to myself the other night drunk and more likely than not high.  Paul Simon or Bob Dylan?
Paul Simon's greatest hits careened from my midnight stereo at the time.  Funny, this is a Dylan blog so the answer is obvious in these friendly confines.
Billy Joel's "Down Easter Alexa" now off Storm Front.  Late 80s namesake of my sister.  I used to love this album.
Apologize I am slightly off the plot with this post.  Bob.  How can you blog about Bob?  Just the name itself calls to mind three legends.  Dylan (obviously), Marley, Deniro (in the acting realm).  Also not to be dismissed are Gibson, Feller and the inventor of the Delta blues himself, Robert Johnson.
In high school I actually played Bob Dylan in a history class mini-play.  I remember researching like a madman, trying to get into this elusive madman's head.  I remember distinctly that Bob would rummage through the newspapers, citing headlines, whatever, saying how the truth is crazier than fiction anyway and you couldn't make this stuff up.
Next post I'll throw on some Bob and dissect.  This is blogging warmups, preseason, hope I fit in and more to come.  Peace.