Boner Poem

Boner poem

Our relationship was becoming a garden.
By the end of summer everything was wilting
and I wanted to set it ablaze. She kept on telling
me about the pleasure she would get from squinting
at the sun and how it would become a sparkler
and I just wanted her to shut up.

I told her about this sad Stuart Dybek story, about this
character who lost his left arm, and he wondered if he were to have
a heart attack if he would be forewarned. I thought she would
agree, but then she asked "Who is Stuart Dybek"? Then I thought
about if I were to become a eunuch would I still have that feeling
of morning wood?

Likes/ Dislikes of August

Likes: Oberon, chicken nuggets, the new album by Beirut (The Rip Tide), listening to Mr. November by The National, the lyrics from that song: I'm the new blue blood, I'm the great white hope & I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders, Breaking Bad, Moose Drool, Stella Artois, swimming in Lake Michigan, riding my bike along LSD, EVERYTHING RAVAGED, EVERYTHING BURNED BY WELLS TOWER, especially the stories The Brown Coast and Executors of Important Energies and I haven't even got to reread On the Show yet, the Sox hanging in there, Buerhrle's defense (clockwork), Konkero hitting as usual on (one!) leg, Razzles (first candy, then gum!), Winesburg, Ohio, that path along the river where I took a picture of (what I think are) a falcon and a heron, seeing deer standing feet away while riding home from the store, home-made chex mix, the little I've read from Underworld, those Levi's commercials that have okay music, but make me feel hopeful for my generation and rebellious at the same time, Wilfred (that episode with the mom from Malcolm in the Middle), 30 Rock going to be 'GN in September

Dislikes: not cooked all the way chicken nuggets that bled fat and look they're dripping pimple puss, the lyrics:
I'm the great white hope (I feel a tinge of awkwardness when I sing it in my mock Matt Beringer voice in my head), only one more season of Breaking Bad, the Sox teasing me, Adam Dunn, those Levi's commercials that make me feel hopeful, and rebellious at the same time, but show few jeans in the actual commercial, getting a flat while riding down to the Lake, only swimming in the Lake once, too much rain, internet being out for a few days, not being able to use my labtop, the summer winding down, Starling Castro not paying attention during games, the Bears' O-line, Razzles (not really candy, and not good chewing gum)

Call of the Night

Call of the Night

I heard a flock of geese, too late into the night, while I was in a bed of too many sheets. Then, there was sound of traffic in the distance, only heard when the city lets its trains rest. The cats weren’t fucking. That was a relief. It’s a howling of the wind kind of sound, the traffic sound. It’s the same sound as when you ride those spinning tea cups at a carnival and the sounds of the murmuring crowd, the methodical cranking of the Ferris wheel, a banjo somewhere, and that laugh that makes you shiver, all seem to fade in and out when you twist and spin. Or it sounds like when you’re riding your bike and you get caught behind a street cleaner. Or when you ride in the woods and you hear a plane overheard and you’re reminded that you’re never far from a city. Then you pass a woman, sitting on a stump, crying into her cordless and you wonder if on the other end of the line it’s just the sound of traffic hung in the night.  

Captain, Captain, Oh my Captain

I saw this blurb in the Red Eye today, about how Paul Konerko is a better hitter on one knee than most players on two (Adam Dunn, cough cough). Since being hit directly in the knee cap about a week and a half ago, Konerko has been limited to DHing, which mean Dunn and Lillibridge (gulp) have had to play first, and in no way are they as near as good of firstbasemen as Paulie. Still, with one bad knee, Konerko will lead this team, as he always has. Konerko, the captain who doesn't wear the "C" on his jersey, leads the Sox who are only 4 games out with enough games against the Indians and Tiger (and them playing themselves currently) and give us hope for games in October. All of this has reminded me of Joesph's Drogos' 'So a Wounded Deer Leaps the Highest' blog post for MAKE. In the post Drogos writes about Ron Kittle, former Sox catcher, who during his career struggled with back problems (part of which led him to retire early). So, every at-bat, he would swing for the fences, and he sure could hit it far (onto the roof of Old Comiskey). Also, in the article, Drogos posts Tony Fitzpatrick's collage for the '05 Series Champs (which hangs in my room). In it Joe Crede is rounding third, and next to his right hand, Fitzpatrick writes: line drives find him like autumn bullets, bad back be damned… Joe is this city rounding third, going home.

I think there is a tradition of toughness that has defined Sox players from Kittle to Crede to Konerko. The Sox marketing guys hit it on a commercial (which is good, but their ones with A.J. are the best) that shows a tired runner in a desert. He is about to crawl when he sees Konerko, who is holding a portable DVD player. He presses play, and the video of Konerko getting hit in the jaw and then getting up and going to first, is seen (Konerko then homered in his next at-bat). The tired runner is inspired, and starts running again. Konerko  watches him run off, and turns around to see another tired runner. Konerko begins to repeat what he did and the screen cuts to the Sox slogan: All in. Konerko has always been like this, all in, even when injured. Hell, he played almost entire seasons with only one good thumb. He rarely misses games though. One of my earliest blog posts (which I wrote and days later the Times had a similar article) was about how Konerko may be the great offensive Sox player of all time, maybe the best. He could pass Frank Thomas in a number of offensive categories. With that, I argue that Konerko is a potential Hall of Famer. Thomas definitely is. Konerko won't have as many home runs as Thomas (he will be near a little over 500 most likely by the time he retires) but Konerko is a better fielder than Thomas ever was. And I think the way voters of Hall of Fame cast their ballots will change because of steroids, and many players will be left out, and Konerko is most likely squeaky clean as can be. I think Chicagoans my age are forced to believe the city is a Bears town and always will be. I disagree. I have no loyalty to the '85 Bears. Yes, they did what they did, but the Bears have sucked since. My fondest baseball memory is Paulie hitting his grandslam off Lidge in the Series, and I think it is the most iconic (even moreso than MJ hitting his game winning three, because they had titles already and it wasn't a century in the making). Hopefully Konerko will keep on hitting and Quentin and Ramirez will step up as well- the pitching has been fine. I want to see Konerko in October again, because even if he is injured, he will be all in, looking for the curveball. 

AT THE SAME MOMENT

This photo inspired this:

At the same moment...

Cheryl is sprinkling  Cherrios into her toilet for Bobby,

Ms. Carlson is trimming the edges of her lawn with a steak knife.

Karen is letting wax engulf a wine bottle, by candlelight in her grandma's bathroom,

Steve is cracking a egg into turned-over soil in his backyard.

Jean is telling the cook to start two orders before the truckers sit in their booth,

Raymond writes a science fiction comic about a haunted shoe box. 

Carved your name across three counties, ground it in with bloody hides, their broken necks will line the ditch, till you stop it...stop this madness

I've had Neko Case's 'This Tornado Loves You' stuck in my head for the past week or so. I always thought the lyrics were called your name across three counties, not carved. I think it works either way, but lately the lyrics have reminded me of this photograph my friend's father took:

The photo and song inspired the beginnings of a poem:

Let's be God or a V of geese, and look down
at the wake of a tornado and see if anything
was written in the path of its destruction.

I'm one of those music listeners who constantly listens to the same set of songs for weeks, and sometimes I think I see connections between songs and images, and sometimes songs and stories. I think I want write about those connections, but I fear they only make sense in my head.

Last Wednesday I rode down with a friend to the lake to watch the fireworks and we stopped and took this shot:

There were no Frankenstein cars across the street (A man in one of my workshops wrote a story about this exact factory/shop and how in the parking lot across the street there were half Buicks, Half Cadillacs and other creations, molded and welded together.

It was such a cool night, and it is nice to stand in this doorway and feel your face become flushed and your arm hairs tinge.

I just listened to the new Beirut album, Rip Tide. It felt vintage Beirut, but over so quickly. I wanted more. I always struggled to evaluate an album until I've listened to it both through headphones and speakers.

I've been burning through Mad Men lately; I'm almost a third of the way into the third season. I has gotten each season. Still, after watching the last 2 episodes of Breaking Bad, shit is going to hit the fan and in a fashion that I believe will always trump Mad Men.

Don Draper: Pros and Cons

Pros:                                               Cons:

Drinks while working                       Cheats on his wife while at "work"
Reads Frank O'Hara                       Abandoned his family (brother)
Watches foreign films                       Took identity of fellow dead soldier
Knows how to wear a suit                Hides his poor upbringing
Doesn't hit his children                      Is an almost absentee father
Knows how to hold a cigarette         Smokes about two packs per day

I don't often

I don't go out to eat often,
because I always end up
leaving my paycheck and
social security number for
pretty waitresses.

I don't ride my bicycle
often, because when I do
my mouth is always open
and fills up with fireflies.

I don't take baths often,
but when I do, I listen to
Chopin, underwater. And
after, I go out and people
try to chit chat with me, but
I respond, "I have water in my
ears" but it is really just Chopin.

Pilots

About a week or so ago, I read this article on Grantland: http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/6763000/bad-decisions about how, in the author's opinion, Breaking Bad is a better show than Mad Men and is better than the Wire and Sopranos were. I've only seen the first episode of the Wire and no episodes of The Sopranos. I also just watched the pilot of Mad Men this past Sunday, and have been thinking about what I consider the best drama, currently and ever. After watching the pilot of Mad Men, I felt neutral. I've since watched about 4 more episodes, but after watching the first episode, and the slight reveal about Don Draper in the final scenes, I felt a little disappointed. I felt I was watching a 1960s version of The Great Gatsby. I've always wanted to watch the show, but waited (since I don't have cable) and now since it is on Netflix Instants I thought I'd tackle it. Over the past 4 years or so, I had heard rumblings about the journey to discover who Don Draper is, among other things. But, the pilot, in comparison to the pilots to the other dramas I watch(ed) and love(d), does not compare. I can think of three pilots it does not compare to: Friday Night Lights, Lost and Deadwood. I can't include the Wire in my argument as I haven't seen any other episodes, and Breaking Bad, while ongoing like Mad Men, I feel is exempt from the argument- more on that later.

I will start off with Lost. Be warned, there will be some spoilers. First, at the time of its airing, Lost's pilot was the most expensive in the history of television. Now you may want to throw out that fact, but those expenses were for some of the memorable scenes of any pilot: the carnage after the plane crash, Jack saving Claire and Hurley from a falling wing and an unlucky soul who gets sucked into a spinning turbine. After the chaos, Jack finds shelter in the forest to (or attempt to) sew up his minor wounds. He can't and has to have Kate assist him, and talk her through it, as she is nervous (giving her advice: let the fear in for 5 seconds, just 5 seconds and then do what you have to do- advice I hope will work when I read my piece). The episode ends with our   first glimpse at the black smoke monster. In the pilot, we get what we got throughout 6 six seasons: Jack and Kate heavily flirting, weird shit happening on the island, Sawyer giving people nicknames and Locke being weird. Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse, prior to the last season talked about how they wanted the show to go full circle (literally- the opening scene is the final scene.) But the themes that appear in the first episode- the strange things on the island and the human connections- are what carry the show.

The same can be said for Friday Night Lights.In the first episode, star QB Jason street is paralyzed from the waste down. After the game is over, and Street's team has miraculously won, both teams huddle in the middle of the field and Coach Taylor gives his "We all fall down" speech (which reminds me of advice given to a young Bruce Wayne: Why do we fall down? So we can learn to pick ourselves up). Throughout the seasons, every characters falls. But early in the episode, we see the true heart and soul of the show in one scene: Caoch Taylor's wife, Tammi, nags him about moving into a bigger house, and he tells her to drop it. We know this is an argument/conversation they've had before; Tammi hangs the picture of the house on their fridge and goes to bed; later in the episode Coach Taylor is seen, alone, looking at the house, but because of Street's accident, the issue of house is almost forgotten in future episodes. The show is about the sacrifices Tammi makes for her husband's coaching career, until the final episode where coach makes a (big) sacrifice, and throughout the series, how the couple keeps their marriage afloat.

On a smaller scale, the same can be said about Deadwood. It is hard to say the themes of Deadwood carried out throughout the short lived 3 seasons, because it was canceled (thanks a lot True Blood and HBO- worst move ever). Since Deadwood is the least fresh in memory, the main themes I remember in the pilot were the use of the words fuck and cunt, violence, alliances and plotting. They all were heavily used in all the episodes.
But, I think my point is clear. The themes of the pilots will determine the quality of the show. I think a show about a mysterious island and human connections and a show about marriage in a football crazed city will trump a show that mimics F. Scott's Fitzgerald's classic, and nothing against The Great Gatsby. I can't say where Mad Men will go, but I feel the themes, other than Don Draper's story: the racist/sexism of the time, and the ad agency workings and ideas/slogans (which I didn't think we very creative at all, to be honest) can't compete with Lost's and FNL's themes.

[It is also interesting to examine how the pilots are different than the rest of episodes for Lost and FNL: Lost's pilot was directed (and created by) J.J. Abrahams, his one and only Lost episode, a common misconception  is that he stuck around. For FNL, the pilot is shot day-to-day, leading to Friday night. This rarely, if ever happens again, and as the series progressed, the football became less and less important.]

Breaking Bad, I think could be the exception to what I discovered. I also usually believe that what I've seen last (or read, or listened to, etc.) is the best, and Breaking Bad falls into that category. But, the themes presented in the first episode of Breaking Bad have only somewhat survived. Yes, Walt is still somewhat in the meth production business to support his family. But, his conscious has changed, as well as the mood. Walt has changed. Maybe more so than any other character in the history of television. I don't think there is any violence in the pilot, and if so, nothing compared to the violence in final episodes of season 3 and the season 4 premiere . The whole first season is sort of depressing, especially the first few episodes about Walt dealing with his cancer. But, I would say around the middle of season one to the middle of season two, a mood was established that is unlike anything else of television. It is a constant feeling of dread, a feeling of watching and all you can think is "oh no,oh no, oh, no" as if the characters are actually your neighbors or coworkers, and the snow ball effect of all Walt's decisions and how they not only have cost people their lives, but more importantly changed Walt as a person. Vince Gilligan has said in interviews that he wanted Walt to change from the protagonist to the antagonist, and I believe he has done so. I also think Breaking Bad is the most literary show of them all, in the way that there is a focus on certain images, especially in the second season and connected they are to plot. Also the character development, and how there is that sort of car crash on the screen/page feeling, always reminds me of stories by Dorothy Allison, Stephanie Vaughn, Donald Barthelme, Stephen Dixon, Wells Tower and Denis Johnson.