where I was last night August 28, 2011 at 7:42 AM

started out slow, but it ended off the hook.  Amazing finish, and some incredible moments.

 

The bottom line is AMCB did indeed play 100 songs in one weekend.  Big thanks to all who participated, and the Cinema Bar for letting us do it.  AMCB is now ready to play your wedding, bar mitzvah, or coming out party.

 

If you didn't come tonight, here's what you missed.

 

My Kickass Life (Adam)

I Saw Her Standing There (Beatles)

867-5309 (Tommy Tutone)

Smokin' In The Boys Room (Brownsville Station)

Message In A Bottle (The Police)

Fuck And Run (Liz Phair)

Karma Frog (Adam)

Alex Chilton (Replacements)

Ballad of El Goodo (Big Star)

Operator (Jim Croce)

Something So Strong (Crowded House)

 

James K. Polk (They Might Be Giants)

The Night I Bought Micky Dolenz A Beer (Adam)

Last Train To Clarksville (Monkees)

 

 

Sail On Sailor – Erik Herrera - (Beach Boys)

Brandy – Rob Z (Looking Glass)

Birdhouse In Your Soul – Rob Z (They Might Be Giants)

Here I Am  -- Brian Whelan – (Al Green)

Train In Vain – Mike Schnee - (The Clash)

Da Da Da (Trio)

Take A Letter Maria (R.B. Greaves)

Love Making Love To You (Evie)

Ain't No Sunshine (Bill Withers)

Billy Sunshine (Evie)

My Brave Face (Paul McCartney)

 

Want Ads – Aimee Lay - (Honey Cone)

Roxanne – Aimee Lay - (The Police)

Pretty Vacant – Aimee Lay - (Sex Pistols)

Dot Dash -- John Talley-Jones - (Wire)

What Do I Get – John Talley-Jones - (Buzzcocks)

Punk Rock Girl – Mark Fletcher - (Dead Milkmen - played twice!)

One Way Or Another – Rob Z (Blondie)

A Million Miles Away (Plimsouls)

How Can You Stand It (Adam)

I Am I Said – Dan Janisch (Neil Diamond)

Domino – Dan Janisch (Van Morrison)

Jackie Wilson Said – Dan Janisch (Van Morrison)

 

Thank You For Being A Friend (Andrew Gold)

Hot Fun In The Summertime –w/Norm Kelsey (Sly & The Family Stone)

Jive Talkin' – Norm Kelsey (Bee Gees)

Stayin' Alive – Norm Kelsey (Bee Gees)

I Wanna Be Sedated (Ramones)

Rockaway Beach (Ramones)

Twist Barbie (Shonen Knife)

Dirty Water (Standells)

A Town Called Asshole (Adam)

Big Big Yeah (Adam)

Disappear (Adam)

Then I'll Be Happy (Adam)

 

ENCORES:

Rock 'n' Roll All Night/Shout Medley (KISS/Isley Brothers)

Have You Seen Her (Chi-Lites)

Free Bird (Lynyrd Skynrd)

 

Untitled refrigerator poem

October 18, 2010 at 1:12 PM

..smell my womanly enormous two thousand pound gorgeous hairy raw purple love sausage and lather me with your juicy puppy like tongue  

 

& manipulate and drool on my forest sized luscious apparatus and I will flood the repulsive lusty breasts & the mothers love peach pedal

 

..and deliriously worship the power of his sweet rust iron rock hard head scream as he smears the bitter white shot on her delicate waxy smooth moon

 

..blow her friends pole like a storm goddess produces wind

 

..franticly pant with cry’s of sordid language felt by easy drunk ugly girls chained together

 

..incubate an urge of blue mist beneath him    he can dream some elaborate vision showing feet

 

..wanting to playfully fiddle a crooked spring

 

Thoughts on the Occupation

The Occupy movement is - IMHO - about the rise of neo-serfdom and its consequences. A whole generation was fooled by a well meaning but untimely doomed attempt to maintain a middle class - with everyone wanting the digital burp of 1990’s to be a permeant feature of reality not a transitory ephemeral daydream - a last hazy summation of the 20th century techno-mismo.

Now faced with a deflationary depression a new class of indebted over educated and under employed people are now out of the pleasure island easy credit loop. They have been voted off the island. Unlike the Boomers they do not have an interesting enough culture that could absorb the human energy - a culture that help spawned the modern technology industry.


The brutal fact of the matter is that no one in power gives a rats ass about OWS. It’s demands will not be met or even scan on the radar with the upper levels of power in North America. OWS will ultimately be disappointed in it’s efforts to address the wide class division and neo-serfdom that will not equal economic action. But that will not matter.


The major problem for the powers that be - and the biggest opportunity for change is that OWS may be marking the resurrection of civic America. Our society is dependent upon the commercial sphere engulfing our existence if you are employed.


If was not too long ago - and for the working class this is still a reality - that this consent cycle of spending was not the day to day reality for most americans. In the 1930’s the commercial life of most people imploded hard.  In the aftermath standing alone was just not possible - it was understood that if you had the fortune to bring in a steady income - no matter how modest - you were obliged to share what you had with others.


Public Library’s, public parks, BBQ’s and small scale parties (it would be for some the only way to get regular protein) - long walks, public parades and festivals create life that can be maintained by small scale economic expenditure (afternoon matinees). In an economic sense it actually extended the Great Depression but as a cultural shift it meant people rediscovered life outside of shrill amusements. It’s biggest weakness was the lack of connection to the erotic - that fueled Hollywoods Golden age.


OWS Valley Forge moment is at hand. The people involved are learning to depend upon others amidst harsh conditions and building social capital template with people who will be fiscally deprived for a decade or two. This template will replicate itself very quickly and accelerate the decline of our societies debt fueled commercial trance.


Just for the record - I like many aspects commercial culture. I don’t look at this process from my middled aged self with any intellectual glee. I understand that people will all-ways be people- with the same fucked up-ness, foolish desires (I have more then my share of that) and negativity. But from that swamp - with some gritty hope - will come a Lotus Flower.

Coffee Haikus

Coffeehouse at night
before audition Shakespeare
He needs a day job
----------------------
16:57 need
coffee four more hours of
work before deadline
----------------------

Over coffee she
liked teaching innocents, and
the target is me
----------------------

Coffee restless night
jump into car headed to
desert sky open road

----------------------

Over coffee she
explained why it would not work
did not show relief

------------------

Basement Coffeehouse
Amateurs “perform” talk sing
Thankful for the snacks


------------------

Drive to Vegas storm
Rain wind thunder unnerving
Arrive coffee good


-----------------

Reseda sunrise
Coffee, mailwoman long legs
Both HOT, awake nice


-------------

Coffee as a gift
Setup lights topless woman
I was glad to help


-------------

Coffee broke young
Lulus, Eagles, Oynx, gone
Middle aged cranky


-------------

Coffee tea soda
Caffeine prince of drugs keep me
Awake and alive

===================

filter water spoon
fill switch wait drip brew cup pour
sugar cream stir smell

------------------

Man, Woman, Cat, bed
Man wakes then coffee, Facebook
Woman, Cat sleep on

Coffee and mail

I woke up late morning and made coffee, I looked though a window that gave me a view of a part of neighborhood, I spied upon a young mailwoman ...- it was a hot day and she wore short-shorts that displayed a set of very toned, perfectly tanned set of legs. The level of slim yet taut muscle was uncommon in the early 90's. The woman has a slim figure and dirty blond hair. It seemed that her legs went on forever .

What I felt that morning was a stunning affirmation of my heterosexuality, an inclination that I later found out she did not share.

Upcoming blogs

1) Temp Edan

2) Digital Deflation

3) Triumph of the Hobbyist

Embrace the Random 3.01 End

Formally the event is over.

But the organizers announced that the Pig and Whistle and a few select bars were inviting the pantsless to show up - sans pants and take an afternoon respite.

A dispersal of the us walked down the boulevard. I noted that for some of the female pantless they tailored the outfits so it could pass a nighttime club wear.

After a quick tip and a photo op with a slightly overly enthusiastic Elvis impersonator we slowly headed down to the Pig and Whistle.

---------------------------------------------------------------


Hollywood and Highland - Highland seems to be an extension of the 101 freeway. A torrent of cars, trucks and SUV’s seem to push down like waterfall right in the middle of the most crowded part of the tourist trap.

A small contingent of the pantsless was on the corner - a tourist passing by asked why? why? - what was the point?

A 19 year old pantsless women, brunette, attractively sender, longish nose and a very cute bottom explained it all. - “I just woke up - I saw the sunrise and .... felt it was right.” - her face reflected the nature of her cosmic empathy.

“And that psychic realization” I piped in “Was reflected in the universe itself - its spread to all of us. You're a person who has revelations that, ..called to us”

She’s a trend setter!

The panted woman walked away. Head slightly shaking.

Later someone said if this was to raise awareness about “Ass Cancer”

Ummm - yaaa ---- Ass Cancer! - Sounds like a early 80’s punk band.

-------------------------------------------------------------



“You seem to be good at this” my companion said.

“What do you mean?”

“Talking with strangers. Your a natural.”

I shrug “Normally - I am not this way. I dunno - I just seem to get this.”

We hike to the Pig and Whistle - a large contingent of the Pantsless are here. She buys me a beer. We grab a table in the rear.









My social butterfly skills - now working with a sit-down and a beer - are now on overdrive. I get up and start interacting with the various sub-groups. I compliment a guy in a suit for the guts he has running for mayor in his baby blue underwear, I chase away a clumsily drunk tourist from a pantsless woman. I warn some other women not to pay any attention to men with pants - “They could be hiding something or they could lie about - ummm their ... gifts” I say with a sly sarcastic smile. “At least a guy without pants has the guts to be honest.”

The energy level on my end seems to be holding up.

----------------------------------------------------

After a bit I make a check in call in the bathroom “Yes - it went fine - I will be home. I need a break and a snack - I got pics”

--------------------------------------------------



After a bit the scene dissipated. A few people departed and then more left. The sunset and food trucks pulled up on the boulevard, and the pantsless people slowly dispersed.





I was finishing up a conversation with a married nerd girl from the West Valley about significant others and pantless Hollywood romps when my companion stood up and said to me - in a tone of realization ----

“ I am going to talk with strangers - over there” - nodding to the remaining pantsless people.

I smirked - “Go for it.”

I then realize that I have been hogging up the pictures - after a while I jump up and walk over with camera in hand. I see her making fearless small talk with a group of four youngish men.

Enthusiastically I break out my camera and in my best 70’s porn voice I said -

“OK - guys - let’s get around this woman - closer! That’s it!”

I loved the purity of the smile she had.

I need to use that voice more often.

------------------------------------------------------

A trip home on the metro - we find her car after a bit and then with a hug, she drops me off at home. It's still early, a nap then I will be out again.

Life changing event? - Nope. I am too guarded for life changing events now, they tend to be too messy, but I know they are inevitable.

No - this was something even better - a life affirming event that I only need to do once.

With a pout La wants to have done it.

I promise La that next year - I will do some stay at home baby-sitting and give her the digital camera, and paired up with a male companion - tell her “don’t forget to take lots of pictures” during Pantsless Subway Sunday.

Embrace the Random 2.99

The Mann's Chinese Theater is located in the larger Hollywood and Highland complex.




Hollywood and Highland is the center-point for the touristic trap called **HOLLYWOOD BLVD**. I actually think its current evolution is a good one, after trying to make it into a family friendly mall it's become a “melange” of nightclubs, bars, tattoo shops and souvenir shops. Tacky craptastic. I avoid it if I can.

The organizers were pulling some logistical work - we the pantsless were in a holding pattern in a subway station just below a converted outdoor mall. The mall was a bust - it was sold and then chunks of it were converted to nightclubs or tourist souvenir traps. It surrounds a restored Mann’s Chinese theater.

Wanna be's and never beens show up dressed up as iconic pop culture characters and charge tourists to take pictures with them. On any given day Superman, Zorro, Chewbacca, Wonder Woman and Marilyn Monroe pout and pose for a few dollar tips. An economic model based on stripping.

--------------------------------------------------------------







The crowd made its way to the Chinese Theater. The normal carnival of camera wielding tourists, mock celebrities, musicians and barflies, teenagers hanging out and Latin families out to view some sights is temporarily usurped by hundreds of pantless people emerging in the midday sun. The air is collectively taken out of the place as its normal rhythm, already carnival, is moved up a tick.

A small bit of the Merry Pranksters is in the air. A couple tall African Americans become pantless converts and start chanting “No Pants, No Pants!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWBxX0fnrR0

(note .18)

NOT SAFE FOR WORK!


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------



In an unforgettable scene everyone taking pictures of the mock heroes turn and take pictures of us, and the mock heroes themselves break out their own camera and start taking pics as well.


It's as if something so strange ran parallel to a runway during a fashion show and the models on it took out cell cameras and started to take pics.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------


A group shot is taken - a smallish woman with a strange hat asked to sit on a tall guy's shoulders. She is hoisted and the group picture is taken. She dismounts. Then she extends her hand to the guy on whose shoulders she had just spent a few moments.

“Thanks - my name is ..”

Someone right next to them noted the situation - “That's the way to do it! Mount up, dismount and then introduce yourself!”

She is unfazed, the smile on her face and the glint in her eye are genuine.



I continue to press for photos.

Embrace the Random 2.97

The end came quickly - the Hollywood and Highland stop was the exit.

We got out of the station. The pantsless crowd! - It must have been in the hundreds at least. Although it was heavy on the white person side, every bit of the beautiful So-Cal ethnic mix has someone of both genders representing.




Its 70 degrees, and the winter LA air is clear this afternoon.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The No Pants event in New York, from the YouTube vids show the differences between laid back LA and the mighty NYC very clearly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_W4kYxew_I4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTKGKUQrb0s

Los Angeles is the femme counterpoint to New York’s avuncular, and mostly butch energy. They have a lot more interactive fun, and as a human you feel more alive.

In LA we have the cult of looks, in part due to the pervasive influence of our media industries. In LA the art of being wanted gives you a pass - you do not have to work for a better orgasm, the one wanting you does. The pleasure and power is in having others make you the object of veneration. Appearing to expend the energy to be wanted negates desire on the others persons part - it makes one look desperate. The trick is to presume that one belongs in the selected company of those who make a very good living off of the adoration of others without seeming too exclusive or too needy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

In most written dialogues about our fair city people often bemoan this difference. They are usually written by people who never, ever depart Venice Beach when trying to define L.A. They never head out to community's East of the LA river, to the Latin working class, learn the lingo and see how LA defuses that physical energy.

The writers are acclimated to the L.A. laid back "service me mindset" even as their word processors decry it.

Here is a transparent secret about LA’s laid back narcissistic cultural energy - if you are in a circle of self absorption - and happen to be accepted as a peer and amongst people who are - in general - pretty good looking or possess a charismatic persona that is a complementary counterpoint to the nice looking people vibe then you begin to feel and interact in a defuse yet seductive voodoo.


---------------------------------------------------------------------



The crowd is large. The amount of people who decide on some random Sunday to take off their pants, reveal their skivvies to the world and ride a subway is more than you think. With the men, there'd be no disguising what nature had endowed them with in its latent state! Properly packaged, of course. For the women, cellulite be damned! Whatever you got, you are gonna flaunt - to a lot of people!




The kinky haired ringleader - resplendent in his red tighties and positioned on top of the shoulders shouts out unamplified thanks for the turnout - it exceeded far beyond their expectations. From that point we were supposed to go in front of the Mann's Chinese Movie Theater and then take a collective picture. However, fate had other plans.

Good plans.

The train we took was not the widely advertised 222 - it was an earlier train that came close to the scheduled time. There was a possibility that pantsless people who do not know we left on an earlier train was on the 222.

The organizers moved up and urged us to applaud the people exiting the subway, just to laud the bravery of any stragglers. I did not see any. It made the scene even more cool, in a slightly absurd way.

Imagine you are trying to get to your destination and as you depart the subway cab a few hundred bright, pantsless people in various modes of top dress are enthusiastically applauding you and everyone else as you exited the subway on your weekend commute.

Take a bow metro riders!




-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remembering my prime directive I pull out my camera. And turn to read the faces of the people nearby. A camera man is taking pictures and everywhere mini cams, digital cameras and camera phones are clicking at a furious rate. Model type poses are not uncommon.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



I am in the subway station and I feel an odd sort of.... lightness. The people on average are attractive, youngish (quite a few 30 somethings) and pantless.


I decide to just kinda...... embrace it.


My finely honed barfly instincts turn on - I turn to a cute redheaded woman in leopard shorts.

“What a coincidence, your pantless, I’m pantless - Can I take a pic with you?”

A smile shows up on her face “Sure”

A side hug, she moves in closer then most random stranger pictures. Comfort zones are slightly lessened when publicly pantless.

I give the camera to my companion - reviewing the pic, its looks good actually. I decide to have both of us in random pics with any random stranger I can charm into doing so.




In asking random strangers for pictures I get into a jocular mindset, a Gemini need to charm anyone of any gender into taking photos that are not contextual to either me or my companion.



"Can you stand next to this woman? - Thanks"

Embrace the Random 2

The organizers did not count on the razor sharp timekeeping that Metro keeps.

A train showed up - but it was not the 222. We jumped on and then jumped off. I noticed how we followed anyone who looked like they had a clue. We were newbies on the pants less thing.

------------------------------------------------------------



The regular subway riders seemed - bemused. In Los Angeles weekend subway riders are people who have to use mass transpiration to get from A to B. They are for the most part working class or the elderly.

A subway comes in - the crowd makes it choice and jumps on.

As soon as get on three Metro employees, two African American and one Latina are deeply amused and inquire about the point of a purely pointless exercise.

“Are you protesting increased tuition fees?”

The question took us aback but we did not show it - both of us are in our early 40’s.

“No, not really”

I begin to think that I needed a better response. The out of context “put on” was detached from any moral meaning. And I look over the person who got me into this - she has a shirt partially covering her underwear. In the context of people much younger, she more then holds her own.

Mindful of the picture taking I ask the woman to take a picture of the two of us. She exposes a set of braces and with a slight smile she takes a couple pictures.

Me and my companion look around - the next stop brings more riders who are pant-less.

She peers around and asks me how many stops are there left? A few - the next two will bring in more pantsless people and then four or five stops till we get to Hollywood and Highland.

She nods over to the exit door - “I want to check out the next cab”






We bolt out of the door at the stop then run over to the next cab. It has the feeling of a mad rush trying to time the door opening and closing. We jump from on to the next car.

Getting in just in time we dive to the next car - diving to hold onto the metal pole before the subway starts. I dive forward and she breaks away from the metal pole - not the thing to do. I grab it and then the subway lurches forward. The forward momentum caused us to get off balance. I clumsily brace her upright.

“That last cab was kinda - dead” - he said.

A women is to the left of us. She is wearing a pair of aqua sweats. Without any affect she takes them off.

“Did we get a convert?”

She turns around - no her friend was supposed to do this with her but did not make it. Conformable - she did the deed.

I look around. It feels kinda - normal. You acclimate to a mass strangeness quite quickly.



A few of the men who are not the slender build side (bears) are wearing things like Incredible Hulk tightys, I Love Sluts t-shirts or near Speedos with hefty bulges and hairy exposed body parts - but even those kind of guys are not being obnoxious about their physical presence. They are not leering or generating creepy vibes toward the women. Its as if a consultant advised what look would give a look that implied offensive, earthy passion - and yet it seems to be all show for the most part. Or maybe the look makes the nature of the guy self evident and takes away the element of surprise. The youth helps make the lines grayer.


The adjustment to this new reality was quick.






I do admit some of the sites in my field of vision was inspiring feelings that were not on the pure side. In a way by putting the "male oppresses female via visual objectification" on the table - neutered it to some degree, the unspoken desire to provoke helped in that regard.

Within the pantsless subway context at least.

Embrace the Random 1

Embrace the Random

“I got permission to do anything I want - but I have to take pictures”

We walk to the Red Line Metro, it seems like any day at the metro. We have problems getting a round trip ticket - the kiosk would not read the 5 dollar bill, a new kiosk and we are set with her pass.

Its apparent to me she have never done this Metro before. The ticket does not work like my proxy pass - the metro has no way to read it, you just keep it on your person. When a cop checks you, you need to have it on your person.

We debated walking to the subway pants-less or taking it off on the subway itself.

Nerves start building up - my system gets a bit more energy. Feeling replaced thinking. The only way I can do this is think is to think of myself as an escort, a protector - someone who will be a buffer between any possible nasty strangeness. That will take my mind off of me and onto something external.

What’s the right metaphor?

“I know the Metro pretty well. - I know the stops. Exit points.”

_ I make an offer - “Consider me your Squire”

We walk down the first set of stairs.

“Squire - I like that”

-------------------------------------------------------------

One more set of stairs separate us from the subway onramp.

“Do you see anyone?”

A small rush of three guys, passes by. They are here to play. A tall, thinnish guy wearing a tight t-shirt and briefs walks down.

“Do you see any women?”

I scan around and shrug

“ I don’t want to be the only woman”

“Do you want me to check”

“Yes please”

Still wearing shorts I bound down onto the last set of stairs. I see it.

A rear, the unmistakable form and shape of a woman’s panties clung around a shapely, young white butt was in my sights. Deeply energized, I hurled myself back to the staging area.


I nod. The unspoken intonation was you are not alone. I nod my head to a large concrete support that blocks the view. Strange how the act of undressing is such a private matter that we instinctively go to any cover we can get.


At the same time three kids are, at the same spot are pants shedding - two of them are women. My companion strikes up a conservation.

“I was worried I would be the only woman”

“You haven't done this before?”

“No”

“Don’t worry”

As my hand goes to my belt I unbuckle. I get a voice inside of my head - its the same voice parents belt out to you when you, as a child cross lines you did not even know existed. Like taking off your pants in public. The internalized voice makes itself known, then you must push it aside.

In my black underwear, black socks, black trim sneakers, Black Tiki Ti T shirt and black Hawaiian shirt.


“OK - we are supposed to act like everything is normal”

We walk briskly into the subway depot. Its not normal - The clicking of digital gadgetry fills the air. A 2 second shot of my companion walking into the station is on a YouTube vid right now.

I awkwardly try to make small talk. The kids are in force. There seem to be two contingents, one late teens and early 20 somethings. Others are in there early 30’s. A few of the men who are sans pants are about my age and are dressed in suites.

Camera’s click incessantly. its a 50, 50 gender split so far. The women seem to be poised and a few seem playful.

I feel - strange. Not uncomfortable, I take in the scene.

Into the Rabbit Hole

Its started as a digital fragment, a sliver in the maelstrom of info-educa-work-a-tain-ment. The rabbit hole was 11 words long.

The new social networking king, the vacuum of eyes and time took the crown simply because - every f-ing person you have or ever will know is on the damn thing.

The net effect is a party line out of control. People who spilled there guts and heart on blogs on the MySpace, now do one liners on a digital ticker tape. Its all good.

Slogging though my work-stream a glance at the live feed catches my eye.


Toying with no-pants subway Sunday. Trying to work up the nerve. Dare me.

I sorta know the woman who put this out. The normal blitz of responses follow.

"Subways don't wear pants!"

"Nope! I care about you too much, ;)"

"One of my roommates did that once and had a blast! People get so freaked out"

"I'm not wearing pants now. Ok, I am."

She chimed in - "I love you guys! Who's in? Boc-boc-boc -- chicken?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wonder - what the hell is no pants Subway Sunday? A browser tab opens up and in next break I run a quick search that yields a YouTube vid. A quick silent run showed snowbound, snow clad kids (my term for anyone 20 years younger than me) taking off their pants - boys and girls casually riding the subway in skivvies. Mini cameras are catching the reactions as they enter and exit the Subway.

My quick-vid trained senses grasp the nature of this - a quick search yields a mass Improv group - with missions and compilations of a kind of public theater that was notable in the consciousness revolution. But without the moral edge. It seemed - restrained in a way. The crayons colored it within the lines. - Something about it was - cleanly fuzzy.

A few seconds of distracted judgment later I decide to chime in..

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Ken - In LA with 70 something degree weather and longish shorts it may kinda go unnoticed

Ken - If you go pant less - I will go pant less

I thought nothing of this - in the back of my mind it was just…another musing, a psychic utterance that leads to delayed plans and different directions for a weekend.


==========================================================

The weekend starts and a the inbox gets a message.

"I'm doing it! Don't worry if you decide not to"

This gets my masculine nature raised - rarely does it wake up. In fact the context of this is so out of context I was kinda, impaired.

It's as if someone asked you to serve pizza at a transgender lingerie show. Chances are - in this lifetime - you will never be asked.

"But if you're game, check this stuff out preliminarily and get back to me today."

I respond - with a trace of thought - hey - this was actually going to happen.

"Hmmm... called me out huh."

"I gots some baggy boxers - text me if you have crossed the Rubicon - The answer is if you go - I go "

I dismissed any chance that this is going to actually happen- it was a form of denial. I shrugged internally.

The response came later that day. Its was a discussion on the logistics of pantslessness. what station (Union) pants off at the train or at the platform leading down to it. etc....

"2 p.m. Union Station - good to go"

“10-4”

In the forefront of my mind - something would "come up". A last minute detraction, family obligations – something, and if not then - I had a blank in the place of what I would feel next.


Status Update “My braggadocio was called out - do I say yes?”

Response from an old high school friend, female - “Yes! YES!! YESSSSSS!!!!!!!”

“you would suggest that course of action”

“And u know me so well.”

“OK……………………………………………..”

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Earlier that evening - I explain the situation to La.

“Should I go?” - Raising herself up from a chair she looked a bit pouty.

“This may still not happen - besides it won’t be long, just a subway ride and a group photo. And every single camera will beam this all over. I have mixed feelings about that.”

“Fine - do whatever you want (! –she meant it) but make sure to take pictures.”

Later on the day of the event nieces would be over for a bit - baby-sitting duties would take up a little of the afternoon time for La.

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Sunday Morning – we had spent yesterday afternoon playing Rock Band (Beatles, Regular) with my brother family, beer, pizza – a nice wholesome time.

Today would be different. I woke up early, a feeling of a slow, muted dread slowly dawned on me. I looked over my undergarment. It was actually a super boxer, gray colored and so baggy that it goes down to my knees. I knew this was not the kind of action that was on the youtube vids. But no way in hell was I going tighty whitey . And my boxers would be good but daring due to the access sliver.

I get my Hawaiian shirts in the wash. At the same time I chanted to keep my nerves at bay – two hours!

Putting my wash to the dryer I noticed the clothes had not been taken out. I pull out the darks and I drop the pile on the bed. By happenstance a pair of underpants was on top, it was Haynes cotton black I got about two years ago, meant to look like a Speedo. The cut was formfitting and just above my thigh, the color was black.

It spoke to me in a way that un nerved me – I knew, knew this was it. The form would fit tight but the color would visually “smooth out” any minor protruding elements. My thighs looked nice if I do say so myself.

Black would be the color that would hide my middle aged slightly protruding gut. A black Tiki Ti shirt, black Hawaiian over shirt rounded out the overall look.

Status Update - “Today will be ....interesting”

Response - “If by "interesting" you mean KICK-ASS.”

“yougotit”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I grab the world’s ugliest tote bag. I felt like Batman packing his utility belt.

Extra underpants, shirt, a pair of Dockers, mini first aid kit, 2 mini candy bars, napkins, a book, a newspaper, a fully charged digital camera, my old cell phone, printed instructions with the train schedule.

You Boy Scout said La.


Status Update “Lock and loaded ...”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In my four year old Levi cargo shorts I head out, it’s a sunny 70 something Los Angeles winter day. I pullout my metro card – it’s a small proxy card that has a chip in it. It’s changeable at places that offer MTA card charging. I keep it for days I go to the Tiki Ti, or some place that is Metro accessible and offers drinks.

5 bucks – I jump on the #4 headed to Union Station, not believing any of this.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Union Station. I get to it early – I take a small walk near the bridge – moving my mind away from what was going to happen.

Union station was the last major train station built in the US before the advent of the Freeway system. It’s a worn art deco building that connects Amtrack to Metro, the local subway/bus system.

Still thinking that she will not be here, and I get to bug out, I receive a text; “I’m Here! Shall I get you a round trip ticket”

Game on.

K - “Got one I am walking in”



I walk to the bus terminal - there she is.

There is something called a BIG SMILE. Its a smile that seems to be implanted. And she has it.

The academic phrase is transgressive. It means mindfully crossing social norms.

"Ken!"

"I have been looking at the people around, seeing who's going to do this"

I stare into the background - with a new set of eyes, in the back a few white kids are on bikes, are they?...

Practical matters grip me - we do have some time. We take a bathroom break. Afterward I ask for a pre no pants photo - so we can see what we looked like before the public viewing began.

My So Called Digital Life

My So Called Digital Life

Friday.

Getting back home , I was very,very mellow.

A male friend of mine and I went out too see a band preform French pop songs at El Cid. The woman was half Asian and half French. For driving him over he bought me a drink. I wanted a Margarita on the rocks but not with the cheap stuff they usually make it with.

I ask for some tequila Cazadores - an extra tall glass shows up on my table. It makes the sweetness of the female lead singer - cuter.
It also knocks me out - I head home early-ish for a Friday night. I am hyper mellow.

================================================================
Laura is Face-Booking up a storm at home. She was not turned on by the prospect of cute femme French Pop.


I get home and she is mind-welded to the screen. In the meantime my lower back is tightening up. I flop onto the bed, shirt off. I had applied one of those 8 hour heat pad things on my lower back and it had worked, but late into the day it was wearing off. But now I wanted a tequila chaser just to see if I could relax even more. It did not work - I was caught between tightening muscle pain and alcoholic relaxation.


Bored I grabbed the recent bane of my existence - my Digital camera. I had started to take pictures with it but had no real clue how to use the damn thing for real. It takes shots that are too light, too dark, too shaded green, too shaded blue or too muddy.


I ask if I could take pics of her - no go. I decide to take pics of myself. Just to see what the lighting would bring.

I keep my shirt off and take off my glasses. I am wearing baggy boxer shorts. they can double for real shorts in hot weather.

“Yo - baby - take my picture !” - I lay across the bed. She took a full body shot.

“OK - loooook at his pixy smile! - You look like a merman!”

She turned back the mac. I grabbed the camera.

I look at the pic - its me laying on the bed - it was unbelievably cheesy.

I adjust the settings on the hunk o electronics and feverishly press on the delete key.

I wanted something not nerdy - I had been taking pictures on the weekends and have found myself looking, harmless. There may not be too much red blood in me but right then and there I wanted to transcend my casual nerd image. I wanted something - creepy, hinting on a red meat hunger. Leering but not explicit.

I confess - we live in times that do not engage a part of the hetro male experience - at lest for myself personally - in an intelligent way. Its a creepy, leeringly energy that also ties in fear and physic violence into art. I was feeling a digital and self socialized castration with my life choices. I wanted to acknowledge this part of myself - but even drunk I am way too self aware of do’s and dont’s.

I turn the camera around. I take a shot with myself on the bed, very close up to my face. Flipping the camera over I see an extreme close up, the lighting is muted and natural.

A hint of a smile comes across my face.

This pic hinted at being kinda, creepy.

Cool.

I pull the camera back and then turn on the side light.

“Yo, baby. - now take my picture”

Upset she turns away and then take a few pics. - I am still am shirtless.

Then she goes back to the flat-screen.

I lazily scan the pics. I think that look, on the whole, creepy.

A perverse smile crosses my face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Later I fenagle my way back on the interwebs and my baby takes a break.

I decide that if she is going to waste the night, she should at lest have the privilege of seeing me in a picture pose in a way that said - yo baby - see me smirk half naked.

One FaceBook login later I post some of the pics - mostly close ups - and post one pic of me with no glasses or shirt on leaned over a wooden TV tray with my arm posed in a way that looked - to me anyway - like I was asking her what the F was up.

I know the pattern, when she wants to do the little applets she will be up all night. I will be awake early then just delete the topless picture. The close ups I could keep. Anyway its nothing that anyone would not be able to see with some beach photos.

I don’t think anyone would notice. Friday night the majority of people would be out. The ones who would be tolling the FB are the straight male single guys. They would not care.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up. Its early.

In the haze before the coffee celerity, I delete the shirtless pic of myself on Facebook.


Cool. If any of my friends have any sense - they would not be online this early after a friday night. The ones who were - well they probably would not care about my pics.


I get to the coffee maker - java kicks off my day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


Caffeinization finished - I head out for the daily chores.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Headed out I go to an afternoon volunteer staff shift at the local lay Nichiren Buddhist center. I do it once a month.

Its a very low key role. Younger people do most of the busy work, I have to deal with most of the staff level issues - such as calling a plumber and dealing with schedule conflicts. In the middle of a Saturday afternoon those issues are non existent.


I decide to get some Diamoku (Buddhist chanting) in. I try and focus. The mantra resounds in the room as a group of people from all walks of life, age groups and ethnicity's. Its a major reason I love the SGI - its really diverse.

A women I know and have been friends with for a long time sits next to me. She is a survivor of the 1980’s heavy metal music scene.

“Hi R”

“Hello”

---you know Ken. I liked your new photos on FaceBook.

(!!!!) Mental spit take!!!!!)

Ummm - I - ack (internally mortified!!!)

“No really I thought they were very tasteful. You were really aiming to kill the computer nerd image”

“ - well Laura took them - I”

“She did a good job - I thought they were really - showed a different side of you, but they were not sleazy - I liked them! “

“- I have a few more that I did not put on facebook - not explicit but they are in the same vain”

“ I would love to see them”

“ Well I do want a bit more feedback - I will let you get a sneak peak and you give me your honest opinion”

We bantered on for a little bit more. There is an authentic feeling of admiration in her voice.

In tossing a satirical digital tease to Laura I was not counting on being eye candy for a middle aged women. It was not in the cards. As I drove home I was trying to assimilate what I was feeling.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What i was feeling was taking be a bit to absorb. Feeling something new is - for someone who lives in his head - something that can fool yourself into denying that you feel it.

It was after a bit coughed up the emotional honesty to reveal to myself what i was feeling.




I was being admired for my physical presence. I kinda .... liked it.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Slightly broke and not interested in the options we had that night I put on the cable box. Takeout Thai and the itunes provide the soundtrack for the night.


I reviewed the pics - what I saw was grainy pictures. Nothing explicit or nasty. Just - kinda.... goofy.


I pick up the camera. I change the settings and place myself next to a naked light-bulb in front of a mirror.


Lets see if I can make something a bit more - eye opening. I take self photos in the bathroom mirror. The light made the shots orange. A twist of my torso and I have my set of pictures, this set tried to suggest something seductive but goofy.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the meantime one of the photos on Facebook caused a minor controversy - I was on a running argument that one of my harmless photos - a picture of my from the shoulders up - was way too creepy.


I protested its just me backlight in a grainy photo- but I had no control over the interpretation of what people saw. My own brother thought I was giving out a ‘fuck me” face.


I did not see that at all - and his wife thought he was being cruel. But he did say something that gave me pause. I was the one who placed something that can be interpreted in many ways on the internet.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I look-over my Facebook friend landscape - its an impressive grouping of work mates, fellow Buddhists, musicians, artists, family, barflies and strangers.

I begin to understand what it means - it means that you will never lack for someone to go out and do something with - you will be invited to more then you can attend. You will be asked to go to breakfast by someone you have not seen in years out of the blue.

But there is a price. In the blurring communal context of Facebook the danger of being misinterpreted is ever present. Even a bit of playful interaction can be looked at as digital infidelity.

Future potential network connection may be spoiled if I at in a way that is too id driven. its a lost in a way - part of my personality is raunchy, goofy, silly and nasty. In a digital way FaceBook is the 1950’s - a subtle but continuous way to keep within a boundary of actions.

In contrast Myspace is the abandoned inner city 1970’s hood that has fallen into squalor - because no one is there, your do not care what you do, say or interact with. I proclaimed I was a Bi curious 3’44 foot swinging bodybuilder for a couple months and no one cared.


I deleted a few of the pictures I had on Facebook, got rid of a few suggestive comments and then cleaned up my notes. My persona is as bland as i can make it without losing my mind.

______________________________________________________________


I place the photos in a locked account on Photo Bucket - then sent a link to my friend - she liked them - they showed a more sultry side

I liked the praise, but I don’t need it per say.


I would miss the ability of my id to scream like a 16 year old at times.

Easy.... like Sunday morning....

During an alcohol fueled communion - I asked a woman how she was doing...

My mistake.

---------------------------------------

J.S. is one of those persons who show up at the Tiki upon occasion. She and her buddy LN are semi-regulars. I catch them once every three months or so.

JS is a bit of an expressive Latina - filled with kindly and cutting insult and innuendo. Coming back from the bathroom I asked her - seriously - how she was. I noticed she was ......uneven in a way.

I lean down slightly - she shoots me a look that meant - can you handle the truth?

She licks her upper left lip - suggestively, then she pulls my head close. She brushed my slight hair away from my ear.

(husky, low voice) ......why I’m easy...... easy. like Sunday Morning......

I was taken aback slightly.

I sit my ass back on the stool facing her. She had dumped a boyfriend of a few years just three ago because she felt his lack of direction and the relationships was not worth keeping unless - well that became a topic for an entire nights discussion.

They were separated for three weeks at that point - she was feeling very,,ummm frisky. I was trying to talk her down. But the conversation kept moving to - other (far more personal) territory.

I restrained my helpful Big Brother influences - that is not my job. But it is a reflexive part of me. When she and her friend started to imply I had shortcomings (the myths about Asian guys...) I departed.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is impossible to describe to anyone born in this current digital amniotic fluid how omnipresent top 40 was. Every supermarket, retail establishment, public spaces tuned to easy listening stations or top 40 station would pump in a select group of inoffensive songs. The more popular they were, the more they were played.

For the next three days, in my absent minded moments, when my brain was parked on nutral - that song would filter out from my subconscious

"Ooh,that's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning
That's why I'm easy
I'm easy like Sunday morning"


...Lionel Ritchie’s death-grip on my mind would be complete.

Omnia mutantur, nihil interit - Part One


In my blue 81 Civic I could do anything. It sipped gas, the top speed was 80 MPH and had the tightest turning ratio I had in any car a major plus for any driver in heavy traffic. A five speed with a rusted dent on the back, I still miss that car.

My hand moves to my thigh and I grab the clipboard with the mess of papers, I glance at the neatly made hand drawn map and take in destination one - the Capital Records building. My first stop - I know where that’s located.

A quick U-turn and I am on Vine. Even though I have a temporary parking pass the street is empty enough. I pop into a nearby parking space, some spare change later I make my way to the building. Parking is plentiful in this part of town at this time of day.

I enter the building; a security guard eyes me with deep suspicion. The receptionist is nice enough. I drop the clipboard on the desk and try to block the negative vibes the rent-a-gargoyle is tossing my way. I produce the proper papers and with one phone call I am given the green light. The guard softens and produces a key (?!) one click and the elevator is calling for me - as I rush I am told to go to floor 14.

The elevator button layout is at first glance confusing. I think I pressed on the right one but as I walk out I stand confused. The floor receptionist is puzzled at my inquiry and she turns around asking about the person I am to meet. A large vibrant woman with an east coast accent speaks above a normal office din - the button for the 14th floor is next to the 7th on the left. Mildly chagrined, I head back to the elevator but I take a good look at the office itself.

Paper everywhere. Gold records line the upper part of the walls. The desks seems to be crammed with an unholy mess of envelopes, small boxes and papers piled high. The impression is a gold lined banality with a bitchin’ view- it was a busy office, that much was clear.

Floor 14 is a different vibe. Manila envelopes are around but the room seems too still. I sit at a chair and a middle aged man looks at my paper with the air of a crackerjack reference librarian. A pair of keys are produced, a desk is opened and an envelope is checked and then resealed. A pause then one more signature and i am sent on my way. I can easily tell this man was far more significant then a clerk. I am entrusted with the hopes and prayers that are in this envelope.

Down to the main lobby and I jump into my Civic and onto stop two.

Omnia mutantur, nihil interit - Part Two


The second stop is close. It’s just down the street of the Ivar library. I love libraries. A block warehouse down the block I back into the driveway. A new paper is produced and the back of my hatchback is opened up and equipment is placed - ten cans of paint and an apologetic workman explaining that he was out of a type of paint and he had called around his local rivals for a can but it was no go.

Light gels and some plastic screens are added. Looks good.

Technicolor calls - I jump into my Cvvc powered car and jolt. A large warehouse that is covered in Ivy - it seems the Ivy was meant to hide the very fact of its existence. I produce a slip of paper and 12 8mm film rolls are entrusted to my care.

Omnia mutantur, nihil interit - Part Three

The Honda unloads the cargo - a group of workmen take out the items and I go over the manifest with the Director and crew.

Well Equipped - or how I spent my Tax refund

Well Equipped - or how I spent my Tax refund

What I did with money I got back from the feds- who withheld it so they could finance our government ......the feds who where busy breaking our treasury, killing our young, and keeping the materialistic Pinocchio’s Pleasure Island merry go round going for a new round all the while ecologically ruining our planet

.
!

I needed a drink ...no Fuck that --- I need a fucking BAR

Prelude to a Family Affair

One Bottle of gold Jamacan Run
One Bottle of dark Jamacan Rum
One Bottle of Demerara Rum
One Bottle of 151 Demerara Rum
One Bottle of Barcrdi Select
One Bottle of Barcardi Gold
One Bottle of Cockspur Rum
One Bottle of Haitian Rum
One Bottle of Trader Vic’s Mai-Tai Rum
One Bottle of Trader Vic’s Mai-Tai Mix
Two Bottles of Bourbon - one sipping, one mixing
One Bottle of Vodka
One Bottle of Gin
Two Bottles of Scotch Whisky - blended and single malt
Two Bottles of Tequila, Gold and Anejo
One Bottle of Cream De Banana
One Bottle of Simple syrup
One Bottle of Passion fruit syrup
One Bottle of Grand Marnier
One Bottle of Triple Sec
One Bottle of Maraschino Liqueur
One Bottle of Cointreau
One Bottle of Grenadine
One Bottle of Falernum
One Bottle of Sweet and Sour
A half liter of Club Soda
One Ikea Ice crusher
Four Collins glasses
Four Double Old Fashioned glasses
Two Cocktail glasses
Two shakers , one small and one large

Freshly squeezed lime juice and lemon juice

Two books by Jeff “Beachbum” Berry - the Grog Log and Intoxica! - the definitive how to make and mix Tiki Drink books

A small cigar box with Cuban seeded cigars

Three Tiki Mugs

and ... a salvaged wooden cabinet that was needed some TLC - with 20.00 bucks of wood stain and cleaners from Home Depot and an inherited mantle piece to hold all of the glasses

Some ice

OK - I think I am ready

Invite the brothers over....

Segments of the city

Segments of the city
Venice Beach


A lazy Sunday floated by with no particular notice. chores done, meals consumed. The coolness of lazing in a new place - a bungalow - way under market rate rental - that has its own laundry room and an airy living room was not worn out for me. But a lingering restlessness keep me plugged in onto the digital tubes

The vast teaming chilled lazy outline of an empty city yields rewards to those who have the energy and will to seek. A bulletin board message about a panel discussion about the 50th year of On The Road’s publishing stirred something in me. I was less interested in the panel and more interested in the space it was taking place in.

Venice Beach is a bright, sun filled grotto with uber-gentrification, credit debt-fueled prosperity swelling the briny air. The ghosts that inspired danger have been cornered and expelled with dark marble home refurbishment, gelato shops and very good clean coffee corners. The past still lingers simply because the constant gnawing of the sea air will erode all human endeavors - but the dark myths that the ruins of faux euro inspired housing inspired - the raw meat, its stagnant canals and fading facades given to a whole generation of poets and musicians has long been painted over. Panorama City’s Wal-Mart anchored mall with the Aztec pyramid inspired electronics retail store has way more menace if only due to the inspiration that borrowing imagery from a culture that practiced routine human sacrifice to ensure the sun rose is the best decorative motif to inspire sales of 42” plasma screen TV’s on monthly installment plans.

The space is a non profit organization dedicated to local poetry and lit. It’s a two story white building keeping the flame alive from a largely forgotten past. LA has spaces like this place and businesses that exist from other times and somehow are held in a psychic amber - do you want a 30’s era tiki drink or do you want to gaze upon movie palaces from the Jazz era, or eat a French dip with sawdusty floors and pig feet snacks appetizers? It’s around if you look. Time has unrelenting effects and more and more the quirk is slowing being drained out of the city by unrelenting family friendly or neo-decadence (tm) newness.

A quick solo freeway trip and I find the place. I take in the very obsolete bathrooms and the small corner books store amid the white walls and the empty second story photography gallery. There is a pic of Viggo Mortensen at a recital in protesting the Iraq war. The building was turn of the previous century old and held a faint underlying pulse of a hardscrabble group of idealists keeping on keeping on. The location alone is something a developer would sell his firstborn twice over to condo-fy.

A few males are browsing in the bookstore - mostly my age and looking like lost english teachers undergoing a decades long neutering process. I can slouch with the best of them and I fit right in much to my quiet bemusement.

A woman about 50ish or so opens up a side door with a beaten up cashbox - I donate my 5 bucks and get in. The seats are leftovers from old movie theaters and I head to the back of the four rows and sit in the back.
It starts with a woman doing a folk song, then the panel is introduced. I survey the crowd. It’s a little of what I expect - middle aged male loners, old school hippies, bespectacled late 30ish Gen X boys - and what I don’t expect: a small group of women, sprinkled about the audience - younger and older. It was not an extra credit assignment for the younger ones, I just did not get that vibe - and no BF in site for most of them. For Kerouac?? Hmmm..

The people are filling up the seats - an excuse me and a young woman sits next to me.

She is blond, light-skinned 19-22 if she is an hour. Just filling in the slippers, longish shorts for a misty cold night and perfectly painted fingernails. Nice.

Just as the introductions to the panelists start my body starts feeling something it has not felt in awhile. After the thyroid being nuked at the age of 29 my body has been on a major even keel that discouraged spontaneous displays of testosterone engorgement. I have been very comfortable with this body. Its a low key body - hefty for someone used to being rail thin but it kept me unembarrassed and de geeked to a point. Now it was stirring with a feeling both familiar and alien to me. Just sitting next to this young woman was carbonating hormones in a way that lay dormant for a decade. Involuntary and unexpected.

After the first panelist noted that the jazz bob that Kerouac based his writing style on was totally lost to the readers of today, I was struggling with my intense desire to get away from her - and move to a different row. I wanted to have a backpack or sweater or something I could use to ummm.... block the visual. I adjusted my arm, kept my focus face forward, crossed my leg and kept as still as I could while my body - achingly, almost painfully - relived it teenage years for a bit.

One of the younger dark haired panelists recited up a Tibetan Buddhist prayer for Jack - after a bit my body calmed down and the sensation passed. I even asked her for the time and she read it off a retro digital watch in the style of watches from the legendary 80’s. I loved that watch. I don’t think much of the 80’s.

After some tantalizing but inconclusive bantering - hinting at flashes about what kept people intrigued about the Duluoz myths - the QA session started. I ranted about how I never wanted to see a On the Road movie - why? - Some things should be kept in its time and place as the form its born to be in.

A women in the next row - brunette and tattooed - using everything to look like a punk’ed Betty Page and she succeeded - in her mid 30’s spoke up. She exclaimed her enthusiasm about an author who wanted to revive hitchhiking - what was her point - she enthused the point was to hitchhike and to make love and to be in the moment. The older male panelists made ummmmmmm sounds exclaiming some discomfit - at the hitchhiking suggestion but I also think it was the purity of emotion she had when she made the making love comment - dourly I think the men felt the times are too entrenched with evil but also the rebellious, alive feeling that Karouc engendered was long gone - replaced by a meager but well earned stability.

To my ears she held a feeling that was alive - expressed in a way that my gender had no license for in this context. The subject matter somehow would have its unseen influence regardless how staid the environment was.

I smiled internally - at the end I made some small talk and pulled my scarf around my neck and went into the misty night - happily bemused.

Accidental Wingman and the Art of the cheesy Pick Up Line

Accidental Wingman and the Art of the cheesy Pick Up Line
For Teresa who ??? me about this.

Feeling somewhat -- disassociated and needing some need for a mild visceral escape I wondered aimlessly around the Hollywood area last Wednesday. After a bit I arrived solo at bar Tiki Ti where I have become a (once a week) regular for some strong rum drinks and familiar company. The wide ethnic mix helps the vibe.

The regulars are a cast of characters that have been anchored at the last old school Tiki bar west of the Mississippi. All of them know me and Laura - her appearances are irregular in part because she does not drink.
During my second drink I fell into a conversation with a 50 yo man - younger in looks and attitude - African american and alive. In the ensuing conservation I kept to listening mode. I have - at the Tiki - heard people express the most personal details of there life journeys. This was no exception. I enjoyed the fraternal camaraderie. He had been going to the Tiki for 30 years. He had not met or socialized with me.

In part due to alcohol I did not get a part of the conversation - that I would help him with a pair of women who were arriving shortly. One women was his intended point of focus (ie target) - because he told them that he would have a male friend with him the women brought a female friend. Her friend - if I was lucky - has very nice breasts.

His buddy flaked - I was drafted to be the “friend”. Its was unfolding to me in a slightly unreal haze.

Enter in two lovely, cosmopolitan Latina women. One with feathered hair and the other was - yup a young 20 something women with very nice breasts. A fine featured dark haired brown shaded women. Tasteful display of cleavage.
I peel off to go to the bathroom - when I come back the bar stool is next to the 20 something, her friend the the left of me.

I asked her name - “ Laura “

The universe is filled with irony.

I wait for the potent cocktails arrive - a few tentative sips and I mildly touch into my loser persona. She with some pose says I should not put myself down.

My Philippino side - gregarious and full of shit was pouring out of my alcohol soaked brain. I was trying to get her to be disinterested in me in a charming way so the other guy could keep up his conversation with his object of desire.

I decide to go for broke. As a drafted Wingman I could hear my “buddy” faltering slightly with his paired up gal. I knew if I wanted to keep there interest I would have to amuse Laura but at the same time make her disinterested in me in particular. Its very easy to make someone disinterested in you of you are male. If harder to do so in an entertaining manner.

In my slightly inebriated state - I think of something.

“Your an attractive women - you must get pick up lines all of the time”

“ Not really - I think there cheesy”

“Want to hear my worse Pick up line”

*slight smile* “sure”

“ Do you have any Filipino in you?

“ ..noo”

“Do you want some?”

* a momentary pause - then a chuckle

I then ask - no entreatingly demand anyone around me in this tiny bar to try there worst line pick up line - both male and female. Not surpassingly the women remembered some lines that they recited.

One tall blond guy with a halting delivery

“ I may not he Fred Flintstone - but I do know how to make your BED ROCK”

One regular

“Do you sleep with strangers? Because I am the strangest guy in this bar!!”
A women

“ One gay said to me - Why don’t you sit on my lap and lets see what pops up?”


“ They call me coffee - because I grind - so fine! “
“

One of the worse

“ Do you want a pizza and a fuck?

*slap*

“Wha.. You don’t like pizza? “

And the classics

“ Is your father a baker because he made some sweet, sweet buns! “

“ Are you wearing astronaut pants - because those buns are out of this world!”

“ Get me a library card... because I have to CHECK YOU OUT!”

“ Someone get me a cell phone - I have to call Charlie and tell him he’s missing an ANGEL”

“ Someone get me a quarter - I have to call Mom and tell her I ‘m in LOVE..!”

I know I am missing some - but I remember the one I liked the most was this one from a nerdy tall blond women with very retro glasses.

She took her finger and liked it suggestively - then she touched Laura on the shoulder and said in a matter of fact voice.

“ Your cloths are wet, maybe you should take them off? “

I know I am forgetting some. As I left at 11:30 the two women had enjoyed themselves (the alcohol helped) and were flanking the guy - I said I had to go - gave my regards to Jedi Jen and took off back to my place.

Women entertained. Mission somewhat accomplished.

take Your Son to Work Day

Current mood: tired
Category: Life

I am laying on my back - a needle was placed deep into my lower interior lip. Under the glare of a light placed close to the gash of open flesh, making accessible though my oral cavity exposing it to a woman I just met clothed in plastic and rubber masked in white. She is both intently and nonchalantly pulling, hooking, stabbing and shaping my dental appendages.




The smell of smoke, bits of bone, slivers of flesh dabbed so carefully on a white towel - and humming - she pulled a tool and my half numb face feels a thump - a metal tool arches back and then snaps with a bit of a click. Microscopic chips fly.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

..How many kids do you have Kenneth?..


..None..


- ..tsk...Thats good! I have five...


Five??!!

I eyed her from the chair - the Dr is about 5 feet tall and is probably 30 at the most. It turned out she had the same thyroid condition I had - it kept her thin until they cured it. She has that comforting Philippina accent and had that informal maternal manner.


The insurance would cover two thirds of the cost for the major work I needed. - Did I want to parse out the work over a few days? - Nope do as much as you can in one shot.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


..spit..


My numbed out face turns and the drool/water mixture falls out of my face more to gravity then any force I can put on it.


Six shots of Novocaine can do that to you.


Out of the corner of my eye is .... a kid.


A boy not yet six - he has a look of someone trying to assimilate what was happening. a slight but insistent and alarmed inflection in his voice


..Mommy - what are you doing to that Man?!..


Out of the corner of her mouth she makes a ..tsk.. sound under the drilling - she stops and says reflexively ..HHHOONNNNNNN..


This only increases the alarm with the boy


..Mommmey.... WHAT are you doing to that MAN!..


In a flash an adult version of the boy is towering above him an in less then an instant he is scooped out and taken away


The Dr goes back to her work, muttering something about not being able to find a babysitter that night.
____________________________________________________________________



I walk out making my next Dental appointment with the assistant holding a baby on her lap and a single hand on a keyboard.


I wonder what that did to her son? Probably nothing - but still...................