Being too young to do anything of consequence, yet too old to entertain with imagination alone, Huntington Beach gave my friends and I
THE WRECK ROOM
.
We were 13, and far too young to get in to this "all ages" venue for professional skating exhibitions and local bands. Being the rat of a local skate shop, the shop's amateur was able to sneak us in.
There was no dancing, moshing, crowd surfing, not any physical displays of enjoyment allowed, PERIOD. It was the music that troubled kids listen to, and being too young to understand the cliche, I wanted ALL OF IT.
One night, Guttermouth was the head lining band. When the lead took the stage, he read aloud the signs prohibiting all forms of movement, then, looking at the security guards, challenged, "Good luck!"
Instantly, the place was alive with violent music and I was loving every minute of it.
During the song, "Bruce Lee vs The Kiss Army," I just started running as fast as I could, and jump kicking people in the audience, in the mosh pit, anywhere I could reach them.
It took 2 security guards to physically throw me out.
I pleaded with the door guard,
"I wasn't moshing, I was just trying to get out of there. Look at how small I am! Can I go back in there? I'll stay away from the mosh pit. Please?"
He let me in.
And when I got thrown out the second time, I decided that music was going to be a big part of my life, for the rest of my life.
Blog #14. Unknown Day, 13th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
I often feel sad for men who never liked punk music. Whether or not they like it now is inconsequential. It is the sound of the way a young boy feels; your body itself is in a war to go from boy to man, and to not understand it, is to truly not understand the violence that surrounded you, engulfed you, and made you. Every word of this post is cliche. It's also true.
Saturday 10 November 2012
Upon Steven's Passing
Upon Steven's Passing
Oh Chasm! quickly fed our failures,
what could you gain from our Nothing?
But you must be fed, million by million,
you must be fed (but filled with Nothing?)
-no!- it could only be with our Everything
that you would do as you do and
are famous for doing. (–Ah!
I have found you out,
you Cheat!)
Why else would we feel so robbed with
every bite? Would we set our hollowed
images and scripts in skin to be as
marked as the fields where we lay
these stones, that when our name comes
round the menu, you would remember
the appetizer you made of our friends,
our family, and –oh! The Most of these!-
our Strangers, that in this shared fate, we
are ALL as one, as within the soup from
which we were so ladled, and not
quickened as we’d like to think, but
fattened, gamed for You, oh! Gifted Chasm!-
that in our robbery, we shout at you
“Crepi!”
that you may never forget
that we are neither robbers nor robbed-
not dead nor dying-
for we have yet to be stopped, but
continue to fill you with our most
cherished lambs out of spite, for
We are
whole, we are the consumers of
EVERYTHING, and you –oh! Gutless
Chasm!- you feed to live while never
living, at best
-and more, it is ALL you have to show for
your timelessness-
you merely endure and swallow our
greatness whole as we feed you another,
not as the trough feeds the pig waste,
not even as the middle finger feeds the
eyes hate, but as the ending of the day
feeds the night this meaning-
“You are only you to make way for more
of us.”
Blog #13. 352nd Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
I may put some poems on here as well. This is one of them.
No matter what I put up, dear reader, it is aimed at your enjoyment.
Retrospection:
I may put some poems on here as well. This is one of them.
No matter what I put up, dear reader, it is aimed at your enjoyment.
Jerry, Zev, and Gordon
Written from: Bern.
Please, step into my office.
The secretary will bring you some coffee if you’d like. She’s new and brutally attractive.
That’s right! We have rearranged the place but all of the decor is exactly the same as it’s always been. Everywhere. In every country that my office exists.
Please excuse me for a moment; I have some classes to teach.
---
No matter where I am, there is always a sense of consistency thanks to Jerry, Zev, Gordon, and their wonderful creation: Starbucks! Everyone wants to hate on Starbucks because it’s an evil company or some stuff that is probably spoken from ignorance, but this is my office and it’s always the same. Whether I’m looking out the window at Argentina, Italy, Switzerland, Fountain Valley, the inside is always the same.
And today is a day when I feel totally and completely content with my life. Today is also my last working day of my current trip before I make my way home for the holidays. And I’m in Bern! Someday I may come back here for a specific souvenir (a wife).
Jerry, Zev, Gordon...I owe you.
Blog #12. 27th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
Dear God, thanks.
Please, step into my office.
The secretary will bring you some coffee if you’d like. She’s new and brutally attractive.
That’s right! We have rearranged the place but all of the decor is exactly the same as it’s always been. Everywhere. In every country that my office exists.
Please excuse me for a moment; I have some classes to teach.
---
No matter where I am, there is always a sense of consistency thanks to Jerry, Zev, Gordon, and their wonderful creation: Starbucks! Everyone wants to hate on Starbucks because it’s an evil company or some stuff that is probably spoken from ignorance, but this is my office and it’s always the same. Whether I’m looking out the window at Argentina, Italy, Switzerland, Fountain Valley, the inside is always the same.
And today is a day when I feel totally and completely content with my life. Today is also my last working day of my current trip before I make my way home for the holidays. And I’m in Bern! Someday I may come back here for a specific souvenir (a wife).
Jerry, Zev, Gordon...I owe you.
Blog #12. 27th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
Dear God, thanks.
Conception of a Nude Model
If you don't know, dear reader, I sell my most sacred of parts in live acts to be construed in whichever the onlookers desires, even as much so as to label it "art." In sum,
I
am a nude model.
"How did you get into that?"
... and it goes ...
I wanted to do it for a while and so I asked some friends who were artists how to do it. They said, "check on Craig's list."
So I did. $150. Nude pose. Meet at his studio.
His studio turned out to be his apartment. Almost instantly, I'm getting creeped the fuck out by this guy, but I'm trying to be friendly.
"I like that painting."
-"Thanks. I call it Jizz."
"...great."
I'm trying not to come off as newbish or nervous, though I DEFINITELY am. He explains the piece to me and it sounds interesting. So now, he wants to have a look at me to see if I'd be right for it. So I go get undressed.
I come out into his studio (aka apartment), and he says he's going to take some photos just to get a feel for view. I agree, assuming this is standard. I also make no comment about how forward he is getting with his stories. From the moment I sit down, he begins telling me stories of gay romance. I try to act cool like I hear this shit all the time...I'm a professional...blah blah blah.
Then he says, "OK Michael"...he calls me Michael...in the most suggestive and uncomfortable way possible..."why don't you lay down here (HIS BED) so I can get some different angles." AND I DO IT...what the fuck was I thinking, but I do it.
He starts getting very close to me with his camera. I'm still trying to keep cool, like I've done this a million times. As he gets close to my junk to photo it, he can see that I'm a little nervous...
...so, in an effort to calm me down, put me at ease, and continue his...art...he quietly, gingerly, says the following...AND I QUOTE...
"Don't worry Michael. It's not like I'm gonna blow you."
At that point, as politely as possible, I say that this is a little less professional than I'm used to and that I would like to leave. So I do. Without getting paid.
When I tell my friends about the experience...the friends WHO TOLD ME TO FIND SOMEONE ON CRAIG'S LIST, they both respond with, "wow...you really did it?"
ASSHOLES!!! After that, I went back my Biola dorm and showered fully clothed. I didn't speak about it for a few years after that. To anyone. Booze and therapy later, I decided that the classroom route was the way to go. Safety in numbers, and all...
Blog #11. Unknown Date, Between my 22nd and 27th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
I have decided to just put everything on here. And so I will.
I
am a nude model.
"How did you get into that?"
... and it goes ...
I wanted to do it for a while and so I asked some friends who were artists how to do it. They said, "check on Craig's list."
So I did. $150. Nude pose. Meet at his studio.
His studio turned out to be his apartment. Almost instantly, I'm getting creeped the fuck out by this guy, but I'm trying to be friendly.
"I like that painting."
-"Thanks. I call it Jizz."
"...great."
I'm trying not to come off as newbish or nervous, though I DEFINITELY am. He explains the piece to me and it sounds interesting. So now, he wants to have a look at me to see if I'd be right for it. So I go get undressed.
I come out into his studio (aka apartment), and he says he's going to take some photos just to get a feel for view. I agree, assuming this is standard. I also make no comment about how forward he is getting with his stories. From the moment I sit down, he begins telling me stories of gay romance. I try to act cool like I hear this shit all the time...I'm a professional...blah blah blah.
Then he says, "OK Michael"...he calls me Michael...in the most suggestive and uncomfortable way possible..."why don't you lay down here (HIS BED) so I can get some different angles." AND I DO IT...what the fuck was I thinking, but I do it.
He starts getting very close to me with his camera. I'm still trying to keep cool, like I've done this a million times. As he gets close to my junk to photo it, he can see that I'm a little nervous...
...so, in an effort to calm me down, put me at ease, and continue his...art...he quietly, gingerly, says the following...AND I QUOTE...
"Don't worry Michael. It's not like I'm gonna blow you."
At that point, as politely as possible, I say that this is a little less professional than I'm used to and that I would like to leave. So I do. Without getting paid.
When I tell my friends about the experience...the friends WHO TOLD ME TO FIND SOMEONE ON CRAIG'S LIST, they both respond with, "wow...you really did it?"
ASSHOLES!!! After that, I went back my Biola dorm and showered fully clothed. I didn't speak about it for a few years after that. To anyone. Booze and therapy later, I decided that the classroom route was the way to go. Safety in numbers, and all...
Blog #11. Unknown Date, Between my 22nd and 27th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
I have decided to just put everything on here. And so I will.
Thursday 17 November 2011
Fun with Translation
Written from: Merenschwand
While watching MTV in Switzerland (which was in English but with German subtitles) with a friend, this happened:
English Spoken Words: “…urban sound…”
German Written Subtitle: “…Black Musik…”
In a world unbound by the shackles of being Politically Correct, they write what we all think.
Blog #9. 35th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection: The elections were happening while I was in Switzerland. One party in particular, the UDC, had some of the best political posters I’ve ever seen (all of which would never be allowed in a regular newspaper). Here’s my favorite:
The caption is warning Swiss people to protect themselves from European infection…and the other 999 words that go with it.
While watching MTV in Switzerland (which was in English but with German subtitles) with a friend, this happened:
English Spoken Words: “…urban sound…”
German Written Subtitle: “…Black Musik…”
In a world unbound by the shackles of being Politically Correct, they write what we all think.
Blog #9. 35th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection: The elections were happening while I was in Switzerland. One party in particular, the UDC, had some of the best political posters I’ve ever seen (all of which would never be allowed in a regular newspaper). Here’s my favorite:
The caption is warning Swiss people to protect themselves from European infection…and the other 999 words that go with it.
Wednesday 9 November 2011
Beginning at the End
Written from: Bern.
I had done some traveling before but Argentina was my first big trip as a real traveler, and though I was in Buenos Aires for 2 months, my trip (and new life) truly started in Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world.
When I first check into the hostel, one of the first people I meet was Franziska, a Swiss-German and some people that were jamming in the Hostel Lobby, Jeremie Andre, a Frenchman, and Jason Koebler, an American.
I had a great time with these folks. In our small amount of time we had some jams, so delicious eats, and some laughs (mostly watching Jeremy be an exaggeration of the French stereotype as he hit on Franzi…it was a first for me).
This was the first time that I had met them and the first time that Franzi met Jason.
-Fast Forward-
About a year and a half later, I’m making my way through Switzerland when I get a message on Facebook from Jason. “Franzi and I live in Bern. You should come by for a fondue.” A wonderful surprise! I take them up on the offer.
As I arrive to their apartment, and look for the bell, I see the following:
“Jason Koebler – Franziska Eggiman Koebler”
I was there. I WAS THERE WHEN THEY MET! And now, they are married and living in Bern. AND Jeremie, the Frenchman who was also there, OFFICIATED THE WEDDING! They met in Ushuaia, traveled for a few months, then Jason went to Switzerland, and a little later, they got married.
So it IS possible.
Blog #8. 27th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
“I could never have known that I would meet a girl in Argentina and then a year later I would be married and living in Switzerland.”
-Jason Koebler
I had done some traveling before but Argentina was my first big trip as a real traveler, and though I was in Buenos Aires for 2 months, my trip (and new life) truly started in Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world.
When I first check into the hostel, one of the first people I meet was Franziska, a Swiss-German and some people that were jamming in the Hostel Lobby, Jeremie Andre, a Frenchman, and Jason Koebler, an American.
I had a great time with these folks. In our small amount of time we had some jams, so delicious eats, and some laughs (mostly watching Jeremy be an exaggeration of the French stereotype as he hit on Franzi…it was a first for me).
This was the first time that I had met them and the first time that Franzi met Jason.
-Fast Forward-
About a year and a half later, I’m making my way through Switzerland when I get a message on Facebook from Jason. “Franzi and I live in Bern. You should come by for a fondue.” A wonderful surprise! I take them up on the offer.
As I arrive to their apartment, and look for the bell, I see the following:
“Jason Koebler – Franziska Eggiman Koebler”
I was there. I WAS THERE WHEN THEY MET! And now, they are married and living in Bern. AND Jeremie, the Frenchman who was also there, OFFICIATED THE WEDDING! They met in Ushuaia, traveled for a few months, then Jason went to Switzerland, and a little later, they got married.
So it IS possible.
Blog #8. 27th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection:
“I could never have known that I would meet a girl in Argentina and then a year later I would be married and living in Switzerland.”
-Jason Koebler
Thursday 27 October 2011
Crazy Old Man # N
Written From: Sierre (occurred in Hanover)
He’s wearing a backwards sea-captains hat, yet I’m the weird one. His wife shouts german disapproval at him, which he dismisses as rudely as it was given. I understand enough to get the gist of how she is insulting him and me, but mostly him for engaging me; I am not offended…I know what I look like (I was fresh from the farm at this point, so filthy to say the least).
We discuss much in our short train ride, mostly in german, but he dropped this gem on me in english:
“Nobody’s perfect. I’m nobody.”
This was in direct response to my telling him that I’m an english teacher (obviously). He makes me promise to remember it. Then gives me the “word-is-bond” shake twice as he leaves the train (this is when you connect hands at the area of a normal handshake, but instead your hand is above your elbow with fingers and thumbs gripping upwardly; it is usually followed by a one-arm embrace).
I’ll remember every bit of it; you will take a high seat in my memory with the other crazy old men I’ve encountered.
Blog #7. 14th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection: I’m not sure if the origin of this gesture is Italian or French, but putting your finger tips to your puckered lips, cocking your head slightly, and pulling them away, while spreading them and giving a loud kiss sound is an international way to positively describe women, locations, food and fun.
He’s wearing a backwards sea-captains hat, yet I’m the weird one. His wife shouts german disapproval at him, which he dismisses as rudely as it was given. I understand enough to get the gist of how she is insulting him and me, but mostly him for engaging me; I am not offended…I know what I look like (I was fresh from the farm at this point, so filthy to say the least).
We discuss much in our short train ride, mostly in german, but he dropped this gem on me in english:
“Nobody’s perfect. I’m nobody.”
This was in direct response to my telling him that I’m an english teacher (obviously). He makes me promise to remember it. Then gives me the “word-is-bond” shake twice as he leaves the train (this is when you connect hands at the area of a normal handshake, but instead your hand is above your elbow with fingers and thumbs gripping upwardly; it is usually followed by a one-arm embrace).
I’ll remember every bit of it; you will take a high seat in my memory with the other crazy old men I’ve encountered.
Blog #7. 14th Day, 28th Year. Complete.
Retrospection: I’m not sure if the origin of this gesture is Italian or French, but putting your finger tips to your puckered lips, cocking your head slightly, and pulling them away, while spreading them and giving a loud kiss sound is an international way to positively describe women, locations, food and fun.
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