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everything is the same, but not in the same way it was. two days ago, the landscape was covered with a frosty coating of plasticine snow... the same consistency as a microwaved SnoBall (y'know, those awful marshmallow/coconut-covered devil's food abominations)--slick, sticky, flat and pebbly... transformed into a nose-peeling foul flood in the basement. then came the torrent of ball-bearing sized sleet, the encasement in a chrysalis of ice. now... well, the thaw has given rise to the orangey ooze of the clay that gives this place its name. hey... at least my balls have stopped feeling like two miserable little frozen maracas. perspective, personally, has mutated from that brain-numbing stagnation... at least, from a positional standpoint: basically, that politico-styled stream of bullshit means that i'm sitting at the kitchen table, typing this. my taste for things, second-hand, has got me portable, now. considering i've got the two bare windows overlooking the darkened lane to my right, it feels like sitting at a restaurant with my back to the wall, looking out the fa�ade. prepared. i guess its a guy thing. beats drooling on the futon at two AM. another Friday afternoon bailout from the show has got me a bit uncomfortable, though. my dedication to being a perennial fixture has been teetering, of late. sure, it would have been madness to make the drive over backroads iced and flooded... but it's not like that hasn't been done before. i could argue that i would've deserted, anyway.. so rewarding has it become. instead, after the power went out for it's five-hour stroll elsewhere, i began looking seriously at architechtural designs. rooflines. floorplans. something practical-distinctive-liveable. something to dislodge my brain and ass from the crevasse it's been wedged into for longer than i would like. the camera came out from it's hibernation. as did some forgotten wall-pieces that needed to see daylight... the Edsel grille now becons, metallically, like a Giger-esque vision of feminity. wow... i just thought it was chrome-y and peculiar. quite a grim representation of my love-life. but, the days get longer. and Spring gets closer. and i finally got my replacement birth certificate, clearing another hurdle in the quest for a passport. the ride home, early Thursday, helped... the dusty cassette inciting me to sing along with the Beatles: "Drive My Car"/Mott the Hoople: "Drivin' Sister"/B-52s: "Dirty Back Road"/ Swimming Pool Qs: "Some New Highway"/Gang of Four: "Don't Fix What Ain't Broke/ the Ramones: "I Just Wanna Have Something To Do." music of motion. or, as the late Mr.Strummer so eloquently posited: "Don't you ever stop, long enough to start? Get your car outta that gear." same asphalt, different momentum. |
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