The Official Hog Blog
Thursday, March 31, 2005
the following is a poem I've been working on that incorporates anthropomorphism.
Death is the singer in what would be a song,
and it's written as a love note/reminder to those in the living realm.
That is, we don't live forever. An age old Carpe diem type of poem, I guess.....
It's not named. If you'd like to name it, hollah at a playa.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[sad refrain]
When the buildings ablaze, will you run back inside?
Gather up your memories and risk your life?
(x 2)
You'll be picking up skulls while I'm dancing a jig...
I'll laugh and I'll laugh at the graves that you dig.
Where the grasses grow greener and the village is fine.
Where the whiskey is poured like a river of wine.
We'll go frollicking to and fro we will go...
not the winds nor the rains nor the sun nor the snow
can hinder your route from the cradle to the grave
filled with medals and with honours that you've managed to save.
So, let's waltz on together there's no time for tears
the world lasts forever but we've only got years.
I'll strike painless if your lucky,
in your ignorance, I'll strike quick,
you won't feel the blows
no, you won't feel a lick
[sad refrain]
When the buildings ablaze, will you run back inside?
Gather up your memories and risk your life?
(x 2)
May the sun shine upon you with the wind at your back
may you always get freely the things you may lack,
may you stave off the trials and the troubles to be dealt,
'til you've grown just enough for your strength to be felt.
Ev'ry morning you'll shout with a heart filled with glee,
but remember your endings are all owed to me.
So, drink heartily, laugh much, and love with no end.
Make very few enemies and cherish your friends.
(fade out.....)
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Tom Waits has made sure to let everyone who reads the Guardian know about Czech polkas and waltzes. "Whats that?" you say. Yes, Bohemian and Moravian (Czech, that is) polkas from Texas have made his top twenty albums of all time. It came in at number twelve, and had my dad seen that, he'd have fumed around the house for a few days on how it should have made number one. I am in agreement.
Here is Tom's assessment:
Bohemian-Moravian Bands by Texas-Czech (Folk Lyric) 1993
"I love these Czech-Bavarian bands that landed in Texas of all places. The seminal river for mariachi came from that migration to that part of the United States, bringing the accordion over, just like the drum and fife music of post slavery, they picked up the revolutionary war instruments and played blues on them. This music is both sour and bitter, and picante, and floating above itself like steam over the kettle. There's a piece called the 'Circling Pigeons Waltz', it's the most beautiful thing - kind of sour, like a wheel about to go off the road all the time. It's the most lilting little waltz. It's accordion, soprano sax, clarinet, bass, banjo and percussion."
I found this record on used vinyl at Amoeba in San Francisco a while back and have been keen on it for some time. The day I saw it, it stared up at me from the bins like a mirror of my youth. I grew up in the American Czech tradition. Which is, drinking and dancing the polka. It took me back to the day when I was a child staring at my old uncles as they sat me on their knees and sung along to whatever song was being played. I'd bounce along in time and revel in their off-key warbling. Whiskey breath and dark red noses, my family would pull out their accordions and trumpets and microphones and tubas (a rare thing to see these days, tho) to get a full on drunken hootenanny going. My favorite is the Wanderer Waltz.
Gramma taught me to dance before I knew anything else. And Grampa taught me to swear in Czech. I've forgotten by now. Great Gramma, who lived with my Grandparents never spoke in English. Every Sunday, Great Gramma would cook up a batch of the sweetest and most delicate crepes ever made. THe men would wake up late, hungover and bitter about having to go to church, but when the radio came on and Czech polkas were played, that hangover became a beautiful memory and the smiles came back.
Not many polkas are heard today, and it's nice to know that Tom Waits is lauding their existence. Even moreso that the good people at Folk Lyric records are archiving some of the finest music around, and if you listen closely... you may hear some Fojtik favorites.
buy the album here
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
If you need me,
I'll be in my chambers.
There's a man in my neighborhood who walks around talking to himself. He must have some thing going on in his head cuz its rare that he doesn't sound angry, or that he's cursing. It's always something that you wouldnt want to hear out loud. He sounds like he's nuts and he's never with anyone. He sounds like he hasn't seen a sane day in a long time. He sounds like he's talking to someone that isnt there. He always lookes at the ground as he walks briskly from one corner to the next, and I have only seen him standing still once. He was yelling at passing cars that day, on the corner of Lincoln and 4th ave.
I passed him a couple of days ago, and he was angry with his imaginary friends. He's prolly 55 years old, but I'm a bad judge of that. His hair is messy and white, and his face is always screwed up like he'd eaten lemons. His hands fly around his head, like swatting away bugs, but its clear that this is how he talks to himself; shouting, berating his imaginary companions, and waving hands frantically.
I wanted to follow him, with a notebook and write what he says down to tell you, for he has some interesting things to say now and again. Not that I want to befriend him, no. More that I think his rambling might be just nonsensical enough to create a new story. Sure that is a little like leeching, but who cares, right? It wouldn't hurt.
Friday, March 18, 2005
It started raining. We'd had a week and a half of respite, but it came back slowly for the weekend. Sitting down with Nick Drake , I came up with a list of some of the best rainy day music. Who doesnt like to make lists? I'd like to sit down and discuss why not.
1. Nick Drake - Five Leaves Left
2. Boards of Canada - Geogaddi
3. Hank Williams - Wait for the Light To Shine...
4. Kenny Burrell - Out of This World
5. Iron and Wine - The Creek Drank the Cradle
6. Explosions in the Sky - The Earth is not a Cold Dead Place
7. Uncle Tupelo - March 16-20, 1992
8. John Coltrane - Ole
9. Tortoise - Millions Now Living Will Never Die
10. Big Bill Broonzy - Feelin' Down Low
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
My hand on the glass, I watched Dave Gleason's Wasted Days shuffle through some slowed up diversions. I drank Scotch and Water, but only one glass, which is a rare occurrence. Only one, I thought, as I shifted in my seat to see if I knew anyone in the cavernous Makeout Room. Prolly ten or fifteen people came to see these guys play, making it a bittersweet affair. I was happy few people were in the room for my sake. I hate crowds when I go see music, making it hard to find a seat or if it's really crowded even to see the stage.
But, I was disappointed that so few people came out to see the Bay Area's guitar hero. Watching Gleason play his guitar is like watching a blues man pull magic solos out of thin air. He weaves through the chord progressions like a drunk man crossing a busy street unscathed. He knows the guitar like a good friend and plays and sings in that old country style that I like, so I was happy all'n all. 'Specially cuz the band played "Life of the Party."
The scotch was good, too. Oban.
I left before it got too late. I have to work during the day, and I like to get a few hours of good sleep in to seem proper at the warehouse. On my way to the bus stop, I noticed one of my old haunts was crowded with well dressed, well coiffed yuppies from who knows where. Maybe from the mission, as the mission is more high falutin' these days. I cursed their new BMW's and lauded the bartender for making great money on a Tuesday night. I laughed at the new VW Bug that had grafitti on it. I shoook my head at the sight of Valencia Street with new store openings in spots that once held a used bookstore/record shop. I once could get a 5 dollar used record right there, but today I can only get an expensive set of shelves, some trendy shoes, or even have my house Feng Shui'ed for a nominal fee.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
are you looking for some kitten time?
do you want a kitten break?
how about some bacon?
Thursday, March 03, 2005
I began searching for a new wig. One that would make my eyes look bluer.
I stopped into a store near the north side of the city and found a bright red one that made me look fat, so I said "Please can I get one that just makes me feel like I'm invisible?" and the store keep said, "Nope, wigs generally make you stand out."
I tried on a beatles cut wig, but I look too much like Ringo and no one wants to be the drummer of the Beatles even if it is Ringo.
I tried on the muted multi colored wig and that one seemed to work until I started to itch and found ants crawling up inside of it and into my own hairdo, and that was just yucky.
I tried on the punk rock mohawk, but with half of the wig not there, I just looked funny looking. But bad funny looking.
I chose the old grey wig to make me look older. In fact, it made me look like I was an older man who looked quite young for my age, which is all untrue, but I like that anyways.
