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Friday, December 16th, 2005
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Thursday, January 20th, 2005
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So, this is the story of how it happened. Okay. It was the summer of '76, back when I first started working for Vinnie. The summer of the bicentennial. A kid came in one morning and started stealing things from the store. He's standing by the rack of paperbacks on the far wall and he's stuffing skin magazines under his shirt. I didn't see him at first, 'cause it was crowded around the counter. But once I noticed what he was up to, I started to shout. He took off like a jackrabbit -- zzzshh -- by the time I got out from behind the counter he was already tearing ass down 7th Avenue.
I chased him about half a block; then I gave up. He dropped something along the way and since I didn't feel like running anymore, I bent down to see what it was. It turned out to be his wallet. There wasn't any money inside, but his driver's license was there, along with three or four snapshots. I suppose I could have called the cops and had him arrested -- I had his name and address and license -- but I felt kind of sorry for him. He was just a measly little punk, and once I looked at those pictures in his wallet, I couldn't bring myself to feel very angry at him.
Roger Goodwin. That was his name. In one of the pictures, I remember, he was standing next to his mother. In another one, he was holding a trophy he got at school and smiling like he'd just won the Irish Sweepstakes. I just didn't have the heart. A poor kid from Brooklyn without much going for him. Who cared about a couple of dirty magazines anyway? So I held on to the wallet. Ummm...every once in a while I'd get a little urge to send it back to him, but I kept delaying; I never did anything about it.
Then Christmas rolls around. I'm stuck with nothing to do. Vinnie was gonna invite me over, but his mother got sick and he and his wife had to go down to Miami at the last minute. So I'm sitting in my apartment that morning, feeling a little sorry for myself. And then I see Roger Goodwin's wallet lying on a shelf. I figure, what the hell, why not do something nice for once? I put on my coat and I go out to return the wallet.
The address is somewhere in Gorham Hill, somewheres in the projects. It was freezing out that day, I remember, and I kept getting lost trying to find the right building. Everything looks the same in the place and you keep going over the same ground, thinking you're somewhere else. Anyway, I finally got to the building I was looking for, the apartment I was looking for, and I ring the bell. Nothing happens. I assume no one's there. I ring the bell again, just to make sure. And just when I'm about to give up, I wait a little longer, and I hear someone shuffling to the door. An old woman's voice asks, "Who's there?" and I say, "I'm looking for Roger Goodwin." "Is that you, Roger?" she says. And then she undoes about fifteen locks and opens the door.
She's gotta be at least eighty, maybe ninety years old, and the first thing I notice about her is she's blind. "I knew you'd come, Roger," she says, "I knew you wouldn't forget your Granny Ethel on Christmas." And then she opens her arms as if she's about to hug me.
I don't have much time to think, you understand. I had to say something real fast. And before I knew what was happening, I could hear the words coming out of my mouth. "That's right, Granny Ethel," I said, "I came back to see you on Christmas."
Don't ask me why I said it. I don't have any idea. It just came out that way. Suddenly this old lady's hugging me there in front of the door and I'm hugging her back. It was as if we'd both decided to play this game without having to discuss the rules. I mean, she knew I wasn't her grandson. She was old and dotty, but she wasn't so far gone that she couldn't tell a complete stranger from her own flesh and blood. But it made her happy to pretend. And since I had nothing better to do, I was happy to go along with it.
So we both go into the apartment -- we spend the day together. Every time she asked me how I was doing, I would lie to her. I told her I had found a good job in a cigar store. I told her I was about to get married. I told her a hundred pretty stories and she made like she believed every one of them. "That's fine, Roger," she would say, nodding her head and smiling. "I always knew things would turn out for you."
After a while, I started getting hungry. Since there was no food in the house, I went out to a store in the neighbourhood and I picked up a whole bunch of stuff. A precooked chicken, vegetable soup, a bucket of potato salad -- a whole bunch of stuff. Granny Ethel had a coupla bottles of wine stashed in her bedroom and so both of us together managed to put together a pretty decent Christmas dinner. We both got a little tipsy from the wine, I remember. And after the meal was over, we went out to sit in the living room, where the chairs were more comfortable.
I had to take a pee, so I excused myself and I went to the bathroom down the hallway...and that's where things took another turn. It was ditzy enough doing my thing as Granny Ethel's grandson, but what I did then was particularly crazy and I've never forgiven myself since.
I go into the bathroom and stacked up against the wall, next to the shower, I see a pile of six or seven cameras, brand new, 35mm cameras, still in their boxes. I've never taken a picture in my life, much less ever stolen anything, but once I see those cameras sitting there in the bathroom, I decide I want one of them for myself. Just like that. And without even thinking about it, I pick up one of the cameras, tuck it under my arm, and go out to the living room.
I wasn't gone more than three minutes, but in that time Granny Ethel had fallen asleep. Too much Chianti, I suppose. I went out to the kitchen and washed the dishes. She slept through the whole racket, snoring away like a baby. There was no point in disturbing her, so I decided to leave. I couldn't even write her a letter to say goodbye, seeing that she was blind and all. So I just left. I put her grandson's wallet on the table, picked up the camera again, and walked out of the apartment.
And that's the end of the story.
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, January 18th, 2005
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if distance is a girls best friend
throw them bitches in the rough
who think that love comes with diamonds
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, January 17th, 2005
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Max: I'm too nostalgic. I'll admit it.
Skippy: We graduated four months ago. What can you possibly be nostalgic for?
Max: I'm nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I've begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I'm reminiscing this right now. I can't go to the bar because I've already looked back on it in my memory...and I didn't have a good time.
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Grover: Ok, the way I see it, if we were an old couple, dated for years, graduated, away from all these scholastic complications, and I reached over and kissed you, you wouldn't say a word, you'd be delighted, probably, but if I was to do that now it'd be quite forward, and if I did it the first time we ever met you probably would hit me.
Jane: What do you mean?
Grover: I just wish we were an old couple so I could do that.
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Boat Car Guy: The idea is to remain in a state of constant departure while always arriving.
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Quiet Woman at Restaurant: When it was over, all I could think about was how this entire notion of oneself, what we are, is just this logical structure, a place to momentarily house all the abstractions. It was a time to become conscious, to give form and coherence to the mystery, and I had been a part of that. It was a gift. Life was raging all around me and every moment was magical. I loved all the people, dealing with all the contradictory impulses - that's what I loved the most, connecting with the people. Looking back, that's all that really mattered.
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Speed Levitch: On really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Sunday, January 9th, 2005
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"You can save yourself the trouble, Doctor. Everything reminds me of sex."
"Does it?" cried Major Sanderson with delight, as though unable to believe his ears. "Now we're really getting somewhere! Do you have any good sex dreams?"
"My fish dream is a sex dream."
"No, I mean real sex dreams --- the kind where you grab some naked bitch by the neck and pinch her and punch her in the face until she's all bloody and then throw yourself down to ravish her and burst into tears because you love her and hate her so much you don't know what to do."
old schoollllllllll
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 7th, 2005
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For instance, here is a cardboard box holding my bottle of ink. I should try to tell how I saw it before and now. Well, it's a parallelopiped rectangle, it opens - that's stupid, there's nothing I can say about it. This is what I have to avoide, I must not put strangeness where there is none.
I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something. On the other hand, it is certain that from one minute to the next - and precisely a propro of this box or any other object at all, I can recapture this impression of day-before-yesterday. I must always be ready, otherwise it will slip through my fingers. I must never forge, but carefully note and detail all that happens.
The strangest thing is that I am not all inclined to call myself insane, I clearly see that I am not: all these changes concern objects. At least, that is what I'd like to be sure of.
I'm going to bed.
I'm cured.
I'll give up writing my daily impressions, like a girl in her nice new notebook.
In one case only it might be interesting to keep a diary: it would be if...
END TRANSMISSION
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, January 5th, 2005
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someones gonna dieeee tonight
oooh and I get to stay up for the sunrise
oh christ
I'm coming down
come watch me?
come watch me break apart, disintigrate
I've seen the other side
I know what it feels like
and I haven't slept since
oh christ
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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i'm at the end of my rope, i fashioned into a noose. god, its been such a shitty winter filled with beer tabs, bottle tops, keggers, and run-ins with the cops we made out like bandits and got caught red-handed. so i guess i wore my heart on my sleeve and i mistook your drunkeness for sincerity chalk it up to experience, fuck it up to experience. and still i clinged to it the late night phone calls and this perfect connection through bad reception (yeah right) is it hanging up or hanging out?
missed trains busy signals stalling cars.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, December 26th, 2004
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Saturday, November 20th, 2004
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Thursday, November 18th, 2004
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the city of new york has a warrant pending for jason julian nochimson docket no. 2004SN123815 residing at 189 woodpoint rd. brooklyn, ny 11211.....for failure of appearance
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Monday, November 15th, 2004
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Sunday, October 31st, 2004
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I'll just sleep in
while you do it again
put your hands on me, my loooooveeee
put your faith in meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
good god I'm so fucking dumb
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Saturday, October 30th, 2004
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i spent most of today in this bed that i abuse on these pillows which you can't get used to i spend entire days putting off that which can't wait until we're knee deep in my own waste and i think that i'm justified because i've seen the tryings done to those who've tried i spend most of my days in this bed too small for two in this place in time i spend endless days thinking of all the different ways that we make up and i think that i'm justified because i've seen what livings done to those alive little to know little to have and thats why i dont feel bad in this city its more me than you
why would anyone want these hands on them?
they are
they are burned
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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I want mcdonalds right this second.
I'm also a raving drunk and going on tour with The Early November.\
byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee i love you i love you sooo muchh
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, October 28th, 2004
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Owen 'I do perceive.' CD/LP Now Shipping.
'I do perceive.' is the full-length follow-up to May 2004's '(the ep)' and continues the new collaborative direction Mike Kinsella has been taking with Owen. This time, cousin Nate Kinsella (Make Believe, Joan of Arc), lends assistance both on instrumentation and engineering, helping to create eight gorgeous cuts that are above and beyond anything Owen has done before. A beautiful album. In stores November 9th.
(Owen "She's a Thief" MP3 Download) http://www.polyvinylrecords.com/media/prc-080-06.mp3
(Owen "She's a Thief" MP3 Streaming) http://www.polyvinylrecords.com/media/64prc-080-06.m3u
http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
Owen
* w/ mewithoutYou, Despistado
+ w/ mewithoutYou, Despistado, and The Snake, The Cross, The Crown
11/15 Mon * Wilkes-Barre, PA @ Cafe Metropolis All Ages/6:30 PM.
11/16 Tue * Buffalo, NY @ The Icon All Ages/6:00 PM.
11/18 Thu * Detroit, MI @ Alvins All Ages/8:00 PM.
11/19 Fri * Indianapolis, IN @ The House Cafe & Music All Ages/7:00 PM.
11/20 Sat * Chicago, IL @ Bottom Lounge All Ages/5:00 pm.
11/21 Sun * Iowa City, IA @ Gabe's Oasis All Ages/6:00 PM.
11/22 Mon + Kansas City, MO @ El Torreon All Ages/7:00 PM.
11/24 Wed + Denver, CO @ Rock Island All Ages/7:30 PM.
11/26 Fri + Salt Lake City, UT @ Lo-Fi Cafe All Ages/ 7:00 pm.
11/27 Sat + Boise, ID @ The Venue All Ages/ 7:00 pm.
11/28 Sun + Seattle, WA @ Graceland All Ages/7:00 pm.
11/29 Mon + Portland, OR @ Meow Meow All Ages/ 7:30 pm.
12/01 Wed + Ventura, CA @ The Loft at Skate Street All Ages/ 6:00 pm.
12/02 Thu + Anaheim, CA @ Chain Reaction All Ages/7:30 pm.
12/03 Fri + El Cajon, CA @ The Ground Zero Building All Ages/ 7:00 pm.
12/04 Sat + Phoenix, AZ @ Modified All Ages/8:00 PM.
12/05 Sun + Los Angeles, CA @ Troubadour All Ages/6:30 PM.
12/07 Tue + Austin, TX @ Emo's All Ages/ 5:00 pm.
12/08 Wed + Dallas, TX @ Gypsy Tea Room All Ages/6:30 PM.
12/10 Fri + Tallahassee, FL @ Big Daddy's All Ages/ 7:30pm.
12/11 Sat + St. Petersburg, FL @ State Theatre All Ages/ 7:00pm.
12/12 Sun + Orlando, FL @ The Social All Ages/ 6:00 pm.
12/13 Mon + Atlanta, GA @ Masquerade Atlanta Downstairs All Ages/ 6:30 pm.
12/14 Tue + Greensboro, NC @ Ace's Basement All Ages/7:00 pm.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, October 24th, 2004
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so why don't you tell me
how it was too little too late
as far as I can see
it was the best we could do
this is what
I fought for
I quit my scene
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Friday, October 15th, 2004
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walk like a pimp
talk like a mack
dress like a thug
fitted to the back
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, October 4th, 2004
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attack russia
i'm still mad about rodney king
destroy malaysia
kick canada out the union
unpatriotic germany and france
indigenous people are the REAL terrrrrotistsdasd
sexism is coming back
oxism on the rise
15 year olds with joseph stalin t-shirts
if arnold doesnt declare a police state i will
ad prices went up all we had to do was put jessica simpson on the cover of a magazine with tattooos and a Che t-shirt
the preacher is working for the DEA
jesus is justice
war is for the bougeisousousous
16 year old girls with cancer in the lymphnodeeeees
anti war protesters need to go back to work
lay off everyone
more potatooooes
please
lay off everyone
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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clipthesewings's journal