M o n d a y M u d
Volume Uno Issue 23, September 6th, 1999
Heavy Intro
I don't know the exact date when the world turned into a homogeneous ball of shit orbiting around a medium-sized star but if I could venture a guess, I'd say it was the day the first issue of USA Today hit the news stands.
At that point it was all over, next came the Subways which only paved the way for the Barnes & Nobles, Sam Goody's and Starbucks coffee shops. That whole thing with the 4-color photos/graphics and the pie charts fucked everything up for sure, next thing you know, Nancy Reagan was making a cameo on Different Strokes and Journey sold out the Civic Center (well, I was there but a friend had free tickets and I was just trying to be nice!).
Don't get me wrong, I love this planet and expect that we can still turn it around but sometimes I wonder if our quest for the perfect Star Trek society is really the right trek.
Personally, I'm looking forward to the whole Y2K thing. Seriously, think about it. What's the worst that can happen? (provided you're not riding in a freight elevator which uses a pre-286 processor).
It goes against my grain completely but recently I actually camped out. You know, the tent, the fire, an acoustic guitar and a few Singing Nun type-tunes, oh yeah, and a couple bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon and a water pipe. And let me tell you, it was great! At one point I looked up at the sky and saw billions and billions of beautiful stars (Since I got Nintendo 64 I had forgotten about those things!), smelled the exquisite aroma of nature's finest fuel burning in the fire pit (and in the bowl of the water pipe) and heard, what may have been a bear, shitting in the woods.
The point I'm trying to make here is this...
... so the worst case scenario is that Y2K will disable all forms of electronic communication and utilities .... hey, correct me if I'm wrong but I can hardly wait!
So I've become a little dependent on my TV and my VCR, CD, MD, DVD, MP3, THX, DDS, N64, AC, Walkman, Watchman, cable-box, cell phone, call-waiting, Caller ID, pager, voice mail, e-mail, modem, Internet access, hard drive, Zip drive, Jaz drive, Syquest drive,GPX, Korg guitar tuner, Fender amp, Ibanez Tube Screamer, Marshall Guv'nor distortion box, Boss Chorus, Vox Wah-Wah (the Jimi Hendrix model), Braun coffee maker, blender, toaster, electric onion mincer, can opener, microwave, ice maker, oven, fridge, ATM card, garage door opener, 4WD, remotes for the first 10 items, digital camera, aquarium, electric stapler, electric pencil sharpener, can't forget the ol' turntable, camcorder, etc. but I swear I can live without them! Sure, they've made their way into my life in small ways but they are by no means "necessities."
Maybe it's time I concentrate a little more on acoustic guitar anyway, heck, I might even learn how to tune it by ear! Let's see, E-A-D-G-B-E I'll never forget that thanks to a tip from fellow 7th grade guitar student Milton Cadenhead back ol' Alabam. Guitar was a required course of study in Alabama, but it was pronounce "GIT-ar!" with the emphasis on "GIT" which most people were familiar with as the last sound you heard before you felt the sting of buckshot hit your pants, fired from some old coot who didn't cotton to you pokin' around his property.
The 7th grade was a turning point in the Alabama school systems, some folks referred to it as "My senior year" (Am I getting too Jeff Foxworthy on yuh?). But it was true, we were 12, approaching our teen years and many of us would soon be married and have families to provide for. It was time for many of us to complete our education, have our first names embroidered onto our shirts and go find a career. For some of us, math, or "cipherin" as they called it, would be important especially if there was a height chart on the exit door from your workplace.
"Yeah, officer, I reckon he wuz about 6'2" cuz he was a little bit higher than that line with the "6" on it. Nobody was seriously injured but he got away with about 17 bucks Confederate, 6 "Snuffy Burgers" and 1 "Catfish Surprise."
For others, it was "GIT-tar" in case you hadn't been raised proper on the banjo by the age of 12 at which point there was a ceremony held where you received "the family banjo." Milton had been playing the banjo since infancy but decided to pull a double-major in GIT-tar, figured there were more career opportunities plus he thought that "Deliverance" had given the banjo a bad name. Once he told me:
"Gather T., I'm fixin' to be a rock star but I ain't doin' it with no banjo. Heck, that GIT-tar player from the Rollin' Stones tunes his GIT-tar like a banjo, even takes the damn low E string off too. He ain't nothin' but a glorified banjo player and he's makin' a ton of dough, and I'm talkin' Yankee currency! Plus he gets to score with tons of women and I'll bet half of 'em ain't even related to him!"
"The low E-string? What are you talking about Milton?"
"Oh, all the strings are identified with a letter from the alphabet, it's some kind of code I reckon."
"What are they?"
"Okay, first there's E, the low one; then A, then D, then G, then B and then another E, but it's a high E."
"Why are there 2 "E"s?"
"I don't know, I reckon they ran out of letters or somethin'."
"Man, I'm never gonna remember the code, how do you remember it so easily?"
"I just made up a little sentence for myself so I wouldn't forget, it goes like this: 'Every Ape Does Got Big Ears'. Think you can remember that Gather T.?"
"I don't think I'll forget that one Milton. I only wish that someday in the future I'll be able to share your simple country boy wisdom with the world ... maybe ... just maybe, if the world ... was connected with computers ... like some crazy type of spider web except with cords, maybe telephone lines ... and folks from around the globe could actually visit my computer, or no ... a central computer of some sort, where I would send letters or stories to and other people would have access to, like a place, a "site" I suppose they might call it, a "spider-web-site," hmmm, or maybe if they shortened it .... "spider-site" "site-spider" "site-web," yeah that has a ring to it, "site-web."
"Gather T. yer talkin' crazy, there ain't no shit like that out there. What the hell is this "telephone line" thing anyway? Yer always making up these damn fool words like "telephone," you gotta lay off those Science Fiction movies. Oh yeah, by the way, my daddy just harvested another patch of that green tobacco you like so much, you'll have to stop by and check it out but this time you bring the Pringles & Mountain Dew!"
Make Mine a Buddh-Lite
There is certainly no reason to tangle you good readers up in my personal quest for spiritual enlightenment, but since you're here...
These days it's easier than ever to get exactly what you want, everything is customized for your acceptance. You can be as picky as you want when ordering coffee and the Caffeinist won't even blink an eye as you lay out your complex demands:
"Okay, I want half the milk to be 2% and steamed, the other half to be whole milk but just warmed up a little bit, then pour in a jigger of half-and-half but I want that cold, then as far as the French Roast goes, I'd like that boiled in a cheap aluminum saucepan and as far as the Kona Blend goes, I'd like it dripped through a #6 Melitta filter but make sure it's a non-bleached filter and make sure and reverse the prongs on the cord going into the outlet so that the electricity runs left to right through the heating element instead of right to left like the bourgeois prefer. Oh yeah, and do you take Discover?"
Then, you're in line at McDonalds and some distressed dad is trying to place an order for his kid ahead of you.
"Okay, little Freddie will have the Hamburger Happy Meal but with just ketchup ...."
"Like, without meat, just ketchup?"
"No, of course with meat, but with ketchup only, you know, hold the mustard and pickle ... and do you put onions on?"
"Now you want onions on?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, ummm, why'd you ask if we put onions on?"
"So I could verify that you do, so that I could request that you don't."
"Well, I no, I don't put onions on."
"I thought you did."
"No, I just take the orders and handle the money, Trent puts the onions on back there."
"So you do put onions on."
"No man! Trent does!"
"So tell Trent not to put onions on!"
"You tell him man, he's pissed at me because I went out with his girlfriend."
"Yo Trent! Don't put onions on okay?"
(voice from back) "Okay, dude! Hock-ptehhhhww."
"Okay, so are you straight with that order?"
"Yeah man, a hamburger Happy Meal with just ketchup, it's simple."
"Good."
"Do you want a bun with that?"
"Sure, what the hell. Oh yeah, and I want an orange Hi C with that."
"Whatever man, I just give you the cup, you gotta fill it up, so, whatever."
"Shoot, I forgot, can you put cheese on that?"
"Do you wanna just order the cheeseburger then?"
"No, Freddie doesn't like cheeseburgers."
"Okay, cool. What kind of toy does he want?"
"What's the choice?"
"Hot Wheels or Barbie?"
"Hot Wheels I hope, but, let me check. Freddie, do you want Hot Wheels or Barbie?"
"I want Pokemon"
"Okay, he wants Pokemon."
"Uh, we don't have Pokemon."
"Okay, Hot Wheels then."
Freddie, dressed in a Little Lord Fauntleroy suit and sporting a bowl-cut starts jumping up and down screaming "I want Pokemon! I want Pokemon!"
"Okay Freddie, I'll take the fuckin' Hot Wheels car and I'll squeal the fuckin' tires on the maroon mini-van all the way to Shinders and get you your goddamn Pokemon!"
I really have a tendency to stray don't I? So back to the story....
So with all this customization it has become obvious that I need to develop my own religion à la carte. No, I don't mean like the David Koresh thing, I just mean for myself. If it looks like I develop the right blend I guess I can't stop you from practicing it too but let's call it quits when the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms shows up at the door.
Although ... since their name came up ... I think that would be a great starting point for the religion. Alcohol and Tobacco are definitely on my hot list for the new faith. I think I'll pass on the firearms for now but that depends how this whole Y2K thing pans out.
I think the main ingredient has to be Zen Buddhism for sure, it's been working out for me for the most part and I just love the name! I've really been digging the meditation part and am thinking of trying it without the weed and the Led Zeppelin CDs at some point. And as far as finding enlightenment through physical work ... PERFECT! Now, instead of viewing my career as a Styrofoam® circle cutter as a dead-end job, I am now enlightened by its simplicity and the honorable endeavor of the essence of labor. I am kicking ass in this department!
If I went for the full Buddhist blend, I'm afraid I would have to part with my electronic goodies and with the arrival of Dolby® Digital sound and HDTV on the horizon I just can't be that Zen if you know what I'm saying. That's why I'm integrating the doctrine of materialism into the mix. It's really a simple belief that nothing but matter exists and you simply have to deny the independent existence of spirit. Note to self: stock up on Madonna music.
And speaking of music, I think I'll have to throw in a dash of Hinduism because I really dig that Ravi Shanker music, especially when I'm meditating out on the pontoon boat enjoying a couple cold ones! I heard that he used to play with the Scorpions in an early incarnation of the band. He's no longer with us in the material world but his spirit lives on in CD format.
Next I have to throw in a little Catholicism because I'd really feel guilty if I didn't! You know what they say ... you can take the Catholic out of the confessional but you can't take the confessional out of the Catholic. One thing I always loved about the faith was that element of magic during the mass, especially when it was in Latin ... that just had Vegas written all over it! Yeah, the new religion has gotta have some magic but nothing too heavy, just some basic parlor tricks with wooden matches and coins ... that kind of thing.
I've been reading about this religion that's popular in the northern villages of Greenland, it's called Kahiita and its principle teaching is based on its creed which, roughly translated, goes something like this:
"If it feels good, do it!"
I need to research this one a little more but I think it's gonna be "a keeper."
That's all I have for now but I'm sure I'll keep you posted as it develops.
Urgent Care
Having children, I've spent a considerable amount of time in urgent care over the last few years. Not so much lately but during what sociologists refer to as "the ear infection years." You spend a few hours in the waiting room reading an issue of Midwest Living that's so old that they refer to Minnesota as a "territory." Then you meet a doctor who you've never seen before and play "catch up" on your child's medical history even though they have the chart.
"Uh, yeah then in '93 he had a bad case of the "green 11's" so they prescribed some pink stuff that came in a bottle and it was bubble gum flavored, I believe."
Then after pissing off the doctor by stating your diagnosis, he/she gives you a prescription for some bubble-gum flavored pink stuff that comes in a bottle. I was always tempted to request a 55-gallon drum of the pink stuff but never did.
So it felt unusual when I was the patient the other day. It had been so long since I'd seen a doctor that I forgot how to act. I really hit it off with the doctor, she seemed to enjoy all my jokes about sinus infections and she was very upbeat and clever. It was like the female adaptation of Patch Adams starring Elaine Boosler.
Then came the serious part where she described the medication and the warnings that I was to heed. I'll spare you the clever quips I made when asked "Are you on any other medications?" but she was very concerned that I stay out of the sun. The seriousness in the tone of her voice began to freak me out and it reminded me of that scene from Gremlins where they give specific instructions like "Don't feed them after Midnight, don't let them get wet etc."
But I had to laugh as she said,
"I know we have a long weekend coming up and I'm sure you have plans to be outside but I urge you to stay out of the sun as much as you can."
All I could think was (but remained rude only on the inside),
Honey, take a look at my skim-milk-in-Cheerios complexion, I'm a guitar player. While most people view a 3 day weekend with images of volleyball, fishing, hiking, cavorting with a beautiful blonde in a bikini in a friendly game of outdoor Twister, etc. I conjure up imagery of the cool, damp basement, surrounded by cinder block walls, Salvation Army furniture and starving artist landscape paintings. A single, blue party light casts an azure glow over PA equipment, cheap Oriental rugs from Menards, empty beer cans and full ashtrays. This is my 3 day weekend and I like it ... no Doctor, the closest I'll get to the outdoors this weekend is when I turn up the reverb on my Fender amp.
Redneck McCombs
I think I saw a car salesman from Texas threatening to move the Vikes to the Lone Star state but it may have just been a recurring dream. "Hey Red! If you want the community to kiss you on the mouth you may want to consider getting those teeth bleached!"
Joe Soucheray
This guy who used to work at my company once told me that when he calls Joe Soucheray on the phone during his radio talk show he sez "Hey Joe, what'yuh know?" (By the way, that guy got laid-off).
I would grin and say something like "Wow, that's really interesting." but as I'd step away from the Bunn-o-matic I'd be thinking "Who the fuck is Joe Souchery?"
I mean, someday I'll catch on to all the "goings on" of this community but I think it'll take some time. Sure, I read Klobachar's book "8 Miles Without a Pothole, The Closest to Heaven I'll Ever Get" only because it was in the community library of the lunchroom and my subscription to High Times had recently run out (like their readers are really going to remember to renew!) but other than that, I usually only read the music columns, game results and the want ads.
My Uncle tells me stories about the old days on the near north side and a young newspaper delivery boy by the name of Sid Hartman and I hear the jokes on KQ but I can't say that I've followed his column either ...
Hey, does anyone mind if I can this one before I go any further?
Getting Used to New Pants
So getting ready for work the other day and went to put on my new, bright yellow pants that I bought at Prince's garage sale. Other than the fact that they were highwaters I noticed that the entire ass was missing! Boy, was I ticked off. So I pulled 'em on anyway figuring I'm still in good enough shape to get away with the "So Fine" look, went to check it out in the mirror and noticed that my ass had that digitized effect going on, you know, like they use on "Cops." I figured it fit within our dress code limits at work (which is basically spelled out as "just make sure and cover your ass.")
Excuse for Missing Last Week ... Oh Yeah, and the Week Before
It scares me to think that I have to explain my whereabouts for the last couple weeks but, since I started this cult, I reckon I have to take some responsibility and explain how and why I would leave my faithful readers high & dry so here's the scoop.
I took a couple weekend road trips to Chicago and, though technically able to write a "Sorry, I ain't comin' in today" message on the Mud page, refrained from doing so because every time I try that I end up writing a couple thousand words anyway.
But enough about that for now, I'm sure I'll be posting my notes from the road in the upcoming weeks.
Did I Miss a Meeting?
Things I Recently Figured Out...
I had a bunch more of these but it's late and I can't think of them right now.
Classic Rock
Have to apologize for my over reaction to that new classic rock station
in town. My editor emailed me with the "Slapshot Report" and told
me that I'd used the catchy phrase "fuck you" about 84 times.
Apparently I broke some kind of Internet record and will be receiving the
coveted "South Park Award" at a banquet honoring writers who overuse
the phrase "fuck you."
I've been doing a lot of soul searching about this whole "classic rock" situation and feel that I owe both WLOL and my faithful readers an apology. It's really not that big of a deal if a station chooses to play a batch of songs going back 4-6 Presidential administrations (including two 2-term guys) because I have a 10-disc changer and enough food and ammo to last for decades. If you guys get sick of hearing "Tumbling Dice" and "Gold Dust Woman" just feel free to head out to my bunker in the hills. I'm not coming back till I hear Wally Walker play my request for "Watching the Sleeping Man" by Vic Chesnutt on the "all-request lunch hour" (I love those cafeteria sound effects in the background).
A musician/janitor acquaintance of mine explained the whole business side of classic rock to me so now I understand it in a new light. I never thought of it from this angle but his theory (it seems that most of my weed smoking buddies are big on theories ... interesting ... I'll get more into that in a little bit, I have a theory on that very concept) is that due to the multi-layered chain of publishing rights in rock & roll, it can be very difficult to figure out who to send the royalty checks to. But let's say, in a given day, you only played songs off of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumours," John Cougar's "American Fool," Tom Petty's "Damn the Torpedoes" the Eagles "Hotel California" and top it off with "Sticky Fingers" (I think we all know that's by the Rolling Stones, right?). So there's no argument that there's some valid rock & roll on the records mentioned but, get this, the radio station only needs to use 5 stamps for the whole day's playlist. Pretty slick huh? And I'm sure they don't send out checks daily, it's probably 5 stamps a month then.
It's not just the money we're talking here, it's laziness pure and simple. All this time I thought it was just greed but it's not, it's greed and laziness combined. Now I get it, now I accept it. Who among us can cast the first stone now?
The other night while staring at the full moon I had a profound revelation about a solution to the classic rock problem. I think I know why some people are afraid to move forward with music. I think alternative rock, at least the stuff they play on the radio, doesn't rock hard enough. I think there's a big segment of the population that want new music but don't want it too weird, just something that really rocks.
So here's the pitch...
Let's say in any given town there are some great bar bands that really rock, they pack people in, they write great songs and they even play guitar solos. No really, this is a possibility. So you have a nationally syndicated radio station (it's not as scary as it sounds, they exist already with names like "The Edge" and they, indeed, are scary!) that plays nothing but the best of the best of these bands. Not a corny competition between metro areas but a celebration of the American rock & roll band.
The station could be called WBBB (The BBB stands for Best Bar Band, the W is just some old FCC rule, west of Old Muddy? Right? Or is it East, while the letter "K" stands for "West"? It's much more complictated than naming guitar strings).
Obscure References and Obtuse Humor, Ricky (Rikki), Don't Lose That Number
If you'll all check your notes from a few weeks back you'll see in the Mud syllabus that I'm shooting for more mainstream humor in this column, kind of an Erma Bombeck meets Tommy Chong kind of thing but, due to this 70s nostalgia boom....
Hold that thought, I'll finish it next week!
Snidely Whiplash Step Aside ... Introducing Dr. Road Rage
I'm breaking the rules here by not writing this on a late Sunday night, it's Wednesday and tomorrow, Dr. Road Rage will be stepping off a plane from Europe and I just want to get a few thoughts across before the story is tainted by hype.
I can already visualize Diana's pierce into camera #3 on KARE 11 news for the next 7-8 fucking months, a graphic of a fist punching a pair of glasses off an elderly woman who, in the illustration, will look either look like Tweety Bird's owner or that old lady from the Playboy cartoons with the really long boobs.
Above it, in a dramatic font designed by Chank Diesel, it'll say something clever like "Take 2 of these and call my lawyer in the morning" or "You should'a had a V-8 cos I got a BMW Roadster" or just something simple like "OUCH!"
Next, Jay Leno will be playing pocket pool on national TV with that skunk on the top his head (why is he wearing that? It's freaking me out!) lisping out some lame joke (while karate chopping his left palm) like...
"Geth what'th happening now in Minnethota? It'th not enough that their Governor can beat up Iowa's Governor but now their doctorth are thucker punching old ladieth on the thide of the freeway! That'th one way to perform anathethia that I ain't interthted in!"
Then the director will cut to Kevin Eubanks who will be laughing his can off saying "Jay, Jay oh when is pay day?"
We're also sure to see Jesse doing his "bobbing for apples boogie" while trying to answer a question related to the incident ...
"Governor! Will there be any legislation passed to prevent incidents such as these?"
Then, without having a chance to speak to his Minister of Logic before answering, he'll put his underwearless ass in a sling again by saying something that might be viewed as insensitive such as ...
"Well, I told you guys before dat most laws are created to pro-tect stoooopid people and we can't keep, you know, pro-tect-ing stooopid people cos I got shit to do and I ain't got time to deal with that shit. Per-son-all-y, I mean, I wasn't der or nuttin', but it kind of sounds like she was in duh wrong anyway and maybe got whut was comin' to her. I mean I've seen some'a dem old bitches drivin' their fuckin' Buick Regals with those big stooopid glasses, like that old bag on the Old Navy ads, and I couldn't tell yuh how many times I felt like clockin' one uh dem when they cut into my fuckin' lane. I mean, I got duh greatest respect for women and all but I think duh cavemen had duh right idea carryin' 'em around like a six-pack if yuh know whut I mean!"
Then for a couple of days there'll be groups protesting on the Capital steps and security will put them in line behind a college student who's a single mom, the Lucky Charm's Leprechaun, and the ghost of some guy who fell through the ice on Mille Lacs during the first week of April.
Eventually paranoia will strike deep and 75% of elderly women in Buicks will be packing heat and I don't mean Ben Gay, I'm talking Austrian Glocks and ....
Note from Gather T. Swanson: Now it really is Monday and I'm up late trying to finish this mess for a Tuesday release and I have to be honest. I haven't seen "Jack" on this guy in the media.
Never mind!
Another note from Gather T. Swanson and a psuedo intellectual joke for our faithful readers in France: It was suggested to remove the "six-pack" line but that would be like removing the moustache from Marcel DuChamp's Mona Lisa (actually he titled it L.H.O.O.Q. which, when read aloud in French, sounds like"Elle a chaud au cul" Sock Ray Blue, that's a good one! Now I have to dig deeper into the segue pit and credit Mojo Nixon for the Sock Ray Blue thing).
One final note from Gather T. Swanson: The Governor didn't really say that stuff and I'm sure he wouldn't be that crude. He's probably the most intelligent and well-rounded public official this country has seen in nearly 50 years and his integrity is a virtue that is welcome in the political arena for, what I believe, is the first time. Heck, I voted for him, and even though I was drunk when I pulled that ballot lever, have only regretted it on a few occasions. My eyes were filled with Capra-esque tears as I watched that acceptance speech and it was at that moment that I realized that this planet has potential after all ...
And, ummm, they can't stop payment on those rebate checks for any reason, can they?
I gotta run! Hope to see you next week!
Be sure and check out the archives in case you
feel you've missed any important stuff!
02/15/99 Orientation
02/22/99 Smoke on the Water, Billy Ocean &
EBay
03/01/99 Dream Weavin', Sgt Snorkel's Secret
Code, Ruby Tuesday's
03/08/99 Styrofoam Circles, Exchanging Coffee
At Lunds, Somewhere on the East Coast
03/15/99 The Never Ending Story Part 1, Corrections
and Influences
03/22/99 The Never Ending Story "Part
Deux"
03/29/99 Summer Movie Preview Contest
04/05/99 "Hey, It's a Cult!," Amateur
Theology, An Unused Cartoon From the Early 80's, Contest Answer
04/12/99 Reverting to Old Ways, Going Off on
Commercials, The Masters Tournament
04/19/99 Special Piece of Crap Issue: Life
During Wartime, It's a Gas! Dock-umentary Preview
04/26/99 Previous Issue Apology, No More Horny
Hillbillies for Prez, Aging Rock Stars, MP3 Files
05/03/99 Guest Writer Gus Grimstone Simplifies
the Mysteries of the Universe With A Gut Punch
05/10/99 Writer's Block, Television vs TV,
Stamping Out Crime with Sporks & Scotch Tape
05/24/99 Star Wars, nothin' but Star Wars,
if they should bar wars, don't let them end.
06/07/99 Amnesia & Other Excuses, Film
Critics on Weed, Last Random Notes
06/14/99 Surly Rantings; Yes Virginia, there
is a Rastler Governor; The Clipboard Gauntlet
06/28/99 Is Dave Matthews Cool?; Surfin' Safari;
Safety Trip Tips; Patch Adams & Other Random Notes
07/12/99 Summertime Blues, Unemployment Fantasy
#1, Still on Dave Matthews Case, Catholic Rock Festivals
07/26/99 Shakespeare in Lust; Reddi, Wip GO!
What the Puck? A Rare Moment of Reflection
08/02/99 The Sun Was in My Eyes; The Perfect
Circle; Previews for What Was Supposed to be This Week
08/09/99 Has the Mud Changed the World?;Talkin'
FBI Paranoia Blues; Classic Rock, Have We Had Enough?
08/16/99 Too tired to write a description,
I'll hit it next week.
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