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02/02/98 - Time is whipping by me. New month's beginings always ring like a bell... a really big loud bell these last few years. Let's see, I had a goodish weekend. My band played for the first time in about 3 months. Next weekend we play again but in Williamsburg. Ahhh, a road trip. We're going to shack up in a hotel after the show. The problem with that is the bathroom. No one likes sharing a bathroom... well, I don't. But my band is friendly so hopefully it won't be too bad. I'm worried about sleeping arrangements. 6 band members plus a handfull of friends in 2 rooms. Luckily I crash early so I should get a bed spot, but I'll have to share. Bummer. Last time we played in Williamsburg we camped on an island and I ended up sharing a tent with Ken the drummer. I probably shouldn't elaborate on our tent's scent... blek. Well, on with the week.
02/03/98 - I got a new-to-me car yesterday. It's a Camry. My first automatic (as opposed to a manual transmission). I'm constantly reaching for the clutch. I didn't know this until I got the car, but it has a remote entry thinger... point and click and the car doors unlock. Cool. The trunk is big. The inside is big. Basically, the car is big. I find myself thinking "What the hell is going on here? Am I really driving a big car?" Ok, I feel kinda guilty to have a nice car suddenly. I live a kid and I drive a parent car. I need the Grateful Dead sticker to stir the image slightly. I've had a piece... short for piece of shortbread... actually, my Tercel is a fine car. It go me through 6 long years without complaining too badly. I feel like I'm betraying a faithful friend. The clutch plate is warped... I think. The passenger door only opens from the inside but I loved that car. That car has carried me all over the east coast. Now the time for the bigger car is here. I hope to have as much luck with the new beast as I had with the old one.
02/04/98 - Well, I almost wrecked my new car this morning by pulling out in front of someone. My natural reaction was to say "It was raining. I think he changed lanes at the last second... blah, blah, blah." In the spirit of change I'm accepting responsibility for not seeing the person I offended AND thanking them (or whatever higher power deserves praise) for their quick reactions. I, through no skill on my part, escaped unscathed as did my car. Guilt is pacing around inside me like a nervous father. It goes; it comes. You want to know the weird thought that went through my head? I thought: "Crap, if I'd been hit my air bags would have fired and I'd probably have been fine then I'd have to face the person in the car behind me without any wound to shield their anger." Isn't that stupid? I'd rather have been hurt in hopes they'd be less angry at an injured person. People invent the stupidest excuses to cover their own mistakes, don't they?
02/05/98 - Deeper into my neurosis... I shared a funny story with a friend. I did something stupid in the shower (I bent too far forward and water ran up my nose). I was embarrassed to share the story not because it highlighted my common sense deficit but because the story was set in the shower and, unless you are weirder than I, you usually shower naked. Yes, I was afraid to tell a story because the story while not involving nudity implicitly suggests I was naked. Why am I afraid to admit my clothes are removable? It's silly to hope people never realize I'm like everyone else. Maybe that's the root of my personal problems... I'm afraid to be similar; I'm afraid to be just like everyone else. But then again I'm not afraid to admit I like Coke or the Atlanta Braves or the color green; these are all pretty common things. I guess I do have some silly glitch with nudity which, upon quick thinking, might be something pretty normal. Isn't it a cliche to dream of being suddenly aware you're walking around in the mall buck? Yup... hmm, once again I end by calling for further investigation. Don't worry; I'll do the work.
02/06/98 - Foreign Policy... I think it sucks. Well, I have a problem with the US bugging Iraq. Do you remember back in elementary school when Bobby left the cafeteria to go pee and you were going to mess with his potato chips but Suzy wouldn't let you do it because messing with Bobby's potato chips was wrong? You hated Suzy. Who cares that Suzy was right or even cute. This is how I foresee the world reacting to the US if we keep jumping to save Bobby's potato chips. Sure, Bobby may give Suzy some potato chips for keeping them safe, but doesn't that just make you hate Suzy more? Now let's look at it from a gun control point of view. Suddenly Suzy is grown and she's a cop. She gets orders from the court to come into your bedroom and look for guns just because you have a history of shooting your children and your neighbors. Ok, maybe my story isn't helping prove my point, but it's kinda weird, isn't it? Ok, so you shoot your children and your neighbors but Suzy's parents did that too. How do you think Suzy got the nice life she has now? Her parents got it for her by shooting their neighbors and the kids living on the lot they wanted for their nice house. Ok, I admit foreign policy is difficult but it still would have been fun to squash Bobby's potato chips.
02/09/98 - Back on the range people ate dinner they killed themselves. Well, maybe not themselves but they could probably look the killer in the eyes and tell them what a good job they'd done gathering dinner. I can't tell you the last time I knew who was responsible for bringing food to my table. At big family meals we say grace which usually includes a line of thanks for the food before us; sure, God has a hand in the process, but what we don't do is thank my grandfathers for kicking Nazi butt 50 years ago. Not that the Nazis would keep food off our table but, look at the world, is food readily available in, say, Russia? The point is we have what we have today because our ancestors gave it to us. They took guns and factory equipment and all sorts of tools in their hands and made a pretty cool chunk of the world for us. We didn't earn it, they did. Ever time we rail against that bratty kid whose parents gave them every luxury, remember we, as a nation, are bratty kids. What am I saying? History didn't start when you were born. There was a great deal of work getting us here and we need to remember that... perhaps I should stop here for now. Learn to feed yourself.
02/10/98 - Nerdboy is isolated in his office this morning. The email server is down until 8:30 and I'm suffering withdrawl symptoms. My palms are sweating and my face is twitchy itchy. I need to go for a run. Actually, I need to go for a running chat session. Running and talking clears the mind better than anything... especially when it's hot. Of course it's not hot today. It's cold, damn cold. But sunny which makes it look warm. No coffee. No email. No CNN news update. No half billion messages from the adminstrative computer. No friendly friend's words. No bad jokes. No outlet for Help Wanted's news... other than this page. Hey, guess what! Help Wanted has been asked to play the VA Pork Festival. Let's start rolling with those jokes. Last year the Pork Fest drew 15,000 people. Mmmm, pork chops. 300 kegs and innumerable pigs lost their lives so people could gorge... something is off kilter here. So be it. We're the Pork Fest band! And I can't tell anyone until 8:30.
02/11/98 - My roommate has gone electric, as he puts it. Drop him a line: Andy. Ok, I have a staff meeting at 9am. Big staff. Everybody working for my boss's boss's boss is gathering. Hmm, Looking at that last sentence I'd say I have a great-grand boss, wouldn't you? Let's see, you take antibiotics to free yourself of staph infections. What frees you of a staff meeting? Considering staff is biotic and staff is bigger than staph perhaps bigger antibiotics would do the trick. But we don't want a staff free office, do we? Who would do the work? Who would drink the coffee? Although I wouldn't be surprised to find virulent antibiotic properties in the office coffee... blek. My thought train lost track... I started thinking about coffee and the staff meeting and now I can't remember where I was going. I think I'll go get coffee. Oh, well. Write Andy. Say "Hi".
02/12/98 - Yesterday I had a Deja Vu-esque experience. I don't know what to call the vivid recollection of a past experience. I was so completely in my Dad's Taurus wagon about 5 miles north of Lexington, VA on a rainy early september saturday, 1988. I felt everything. My arms tingled as we rounded a downhill curve. An old red barn sits in a field to the right and I'm experiencing a brand new emotional texture. There's fear, anticipation, dry mouthed jitters, elation, sadness and a visual acuity I've never before or since experienced. Everything that happened to me a decade ago happened again yesterday. Weird. I got an email from a fraternity brother last night. He's trying to track down the lot of us for a pre-alumni weekend newsletter. I miss the time I shared with them. I hope the band isn't playing that weekend. I want to go back to place I shared with them and see how everything has changed.
02/13/98 - I stood at the back of a crowded club last night watching a very good band. I was probably close to the oldest person there. This tall guy sporting a head shaved everywhere but the top 2% and metal protruding from most skull outcropings pushed by me. I did a double take and he caught me. He gave me that "Don't stare at me, buddy" look. I apologized for standing in his way just so I could stare for a moment more. He left. I'm having trouble with what I perceive as his ignorance to his own mezmerizing power. How often is a freak like that seen? I guess I see pierced people pretty often but a nose ring like that is worthy of a look. Basically this guy is a walking point of interest... It's not unlike the Grand Canyon. "Look kids, you don't see something like that everyday." My point is, if you array your head with metal and an interesting crew cut AND venture into public, don't be so shocked if people perform spit takes at seeing you, right?
02/16/98 - I saw a guy and his kayak ripped down river yesterday. I guess he made it to land safely. His boated friends, when finally aware, helped. I don't know if I witnessed a major event or if people tip their kayaks all the time. He seemed to have all his safety stuff... helmet, waterproof looking suit, life jacket. Regardless, I bet the water was cold. Today I was wondering about yellow road lines. How do the painters know they're painting in the road's center? I'm guessing they just eyeball it. Roads seem to be divided pretty justly. I bet curves are tough. And I never see evidence of major mistakes... except for the big paint spill on I-95 north of Richmond. Smack in the south bound fast lane lay what looked like a squashed daisy... a big, gigantic flower trod through by a billion cars. I bet the first thousand or so of those billion cars took a touch of the flower with them. My grandfather told me roadway piant is some tough stuff... I bet the flower gak hung out for while. I don't know if the flower still exists and I drove over it yesterday.
02/17/98 - I want to see something big today. Sunday I saw two cities from a distance. Without moving my head I saw two complete capitals... that of the country and that of the state I call home. Their skylines are amazing to behold. I saw the rivers beside them. In DC I saw planes, I'm assuming, full of people coming and going. In Richmond I stood literally 100 feet above the swollen James on an impressive foot bridge. The irony here is, with all the majesty to behold, dog droppings necessitated down cast eyes... this must be a metaphor for something. Well, I stopped walking (thus removing the need to dodge immobile dog poop) and looked. Here's where things freaked me. The bridge is not as still as one might expect a concrete bridge to be. In was humanizing to stand, seeing what I saw, knowing the thing bearing my weight might at any moment crumble and tumble into a river from which I'd, wearing khakis and a sweater, have little chance of exiting. It's a similar thing when climbing mountains.
02/18/98 - I was banging on the drums last night. I invented a rhythm in which I play the bass off beat bracketed by high hat and snare hits. I couldn't play it at full speed. I had to slow it to a crawl in order not to screw up. Frustration bore a strange thought... I bet there's a better drummer named Lee Parker born in May of 1970. How would I prove this? I'd have to search the world... that sucks. I could take out ads in newspapers across the country. I could go on the talk show circuit taking my quest to the masses... "Today on Jerry Springer Lee Parker seeks his more rhythmic name sake." Technically speaking Lee could be a female. She may spell her name Leigh, Lea or even maybe Ly. Actually, I'd probably freak meeting a female Lee Parker... imagine if we dated or even married. If she kept her maiden name she be Lee Parker. If she didn't she'd be Lee Parker Parker. Of course she could hyphenate her last name and be Lee Parker-Parker... perhaps the perfect spokes person for Little Caesar's Pizza: "Parker-Parker says Pizza Pizza". And then there'd be the phone calls to our household. Caller: "May I speak to Lee?" Us: "Which one?" Caller: "Lee Parker" Us: "Which one?" I guess we'd have to say "Male or Female?"
02/19/98 - I'm going to start writing down some of the conversation fragments I hear so I can use them in the book I'm about to write. Yesterday I had to walk alone on my coffee errand. Coming back I passed two girls talking about what I assumed was a guy. They were going one way I was going the other and I heard one sentence. It was great. "Yeah I like him. He doesn't think I'm short." Ok, that was 2 sentences but the talker was 5 feet tall. Am I bad for recording that thought? Perhaps, but it was made in public and I didn't try to hear it. So, I've been thinking about this book I'm going to write. Here's the idea: A guy in his mid 20s works on a college campus and plays in a band. He likes his life but he wonders if there is more to living than what he's experiencing or do the "would've/should've/could've"s really not matter. Basically, it's about me only I'll make me sound better than I really am. I may give myself super powers... I'd like to fly to work and not get wet when it rains. Maybe I'll have an extra smart talking cat named Sluggo as my sidekick. And I could get Sluggo to drive me to work instead of flying so I wouldn't need super powers at all.
02/20/98 - Right off the bat it's my Dad's birthday... double nickel, he calls this one. I called him a second ago. He has a cold... how rotten is that? Plus, it's raining... again. I don't know how much rain we've gotten this winter. I'd guess we're sitting on a record here. So anyway Dad has a cold, there's rain and it's his birthday. I got to work and found the web computer is all screwy. This really doesn't have anything to do with my Dad's birthday except I'm writing about his birthday on the web computer. I guess I'll end this by discussing my Dad. He's smart in a can get stuff done kind of way plus he's good at Jeopardy. I guess I look like he does except I'm slightly larger and Dad doesn't play with beards and head shavings. Dad works too hard and I find myself scratching my shaven head at that statement because his hard work did much for me. I suppose I'll understand when I have kids of my own.
02/23/98 - Starting the day with a nice hot mug of Earl Grey Tea (Hot) really brightens the rainy februariness hanging around like that blanket that looked so nice but turned out to be smelly and WAY too heavy. My ceramic Beatles mug taught me my new car's cup holder limits. Luckily, I discovered my right hand makes a damn good cup holder. As I'm no longer required to shift gears I'm able to hunker down in the seat sipping tea, jammin' to R.E.M. and guiding my vehicle left handed. Ok, I had a weird dream last night. Once again I was getting married... again, too, I don't know who my bride was. In the dream this didn't bother me. Her name was Amy. I got lost trying to find the rehearsal dinner and ended up on stage with the band playing at what turned out to be my rehearsal dinner. The band was playing Melissa (by the Alman Bros). I know the song so I (having a guitar with me) joined. Finally I realized where I was (I saw Amy at a table... In dreamland I know her, I guess; It all felt normal). Anyway, I had the band switch to playing Amy by Pure Prairie League. Why do I, happily single, keeping having these wedding dreams? They're not nightmares but they're starting to freak me.
02/24/98 - Dad and I watched UR basketball ODU last night. Can I use "basketball" as a verb? Not a huge fan, the game actually looked pretty good. It was close but not painfully so. As a younger person I recall basketball games seeming as lengthy as those lectures on Arthur Miller's The Crucible when I hadn't even read the play. "Mr Parker, would you care to share your thoughts on McCarthyism and how the playwright's experiences impact color and characterization in this work?" Uh... he married Marilyn Monroe. Anyway, I was carted of to Richmond Coliseum to watch VCU play in their heyday. As a 10 year old basketball is about as interesting as a play I hadn't read, but we've been through this already. I found something to do... like wander around drinking Coke and eating soft pretzels for the HOURS it took VCU to dispatch their rival. Last night's game was quick. The pep band was good. These gymnast guys came out and did flips through the air passing a ball around until the moppy headed guy could slam it into the basket... cool. The cheerleaders were too far away... or too tiny. But the game held my interest for the first time I can recall. Well, not for the whole time. I'd find myself blurring my vision so the crowd undulated like multicolored living ooze... pretty cool. Try it the next time you can watch a crowd from a distance; It's like digging the top off an ant hill... another 10 year old favorite of mine.
02/25/98 - Brushing my teeth yesterday I recalled leaf burning when I was a kid. I don't know for how long it's been illegal and it's legality is likely just but it certainly was fun. This necessarily was a late fall project and I don't recall it occurring on any days but the most sunny. Dad would fill the ditch with leaves and then burn them. It was that dag simple. Dad seemed to always wear an old flight jacket that belonged to my grandfather. Actually, it probably, by that point, belonged to Dad. But Dad's yard work wardrobe is not important. My friends and I would throw paper airplanes over the flames... ok, through the flames. Smoke went everywhere (which is probable why it is illegal). And it wasn't just wuss thin smoke it was hearty like chunky soup... which is probably what we had for dinner when all the ashes were wetted. Anyway, the smoke caused all sorts of mischief. Mom would take all the clothes off the clothes line because she won't have her family's clothes smelling of combusted oak parts. Smoke, of course, burned my eyes but it was cool to watch and, as a kid, what's more important than that? I still haven't discovered what about teeth brushing triggered this memory.
02/26/98 - I bought a nice internal frame backpack last night. I've been camping about 3 times in my adult life... why? I enjoyed each time I camped and I'm getting better at sleeping on the ground but mainly I'm attempting to exercise my life. I believe, your very being becomes atrophied, like muscle tissue, if you don't do things with it. I may have finally figured out what I want. There aren't specfic things I need to do (ok, maybe I do NEED to see the Grand Canyon... anyone want to go? To be honest, don't send me an answer if you don't know me or aren't a supermodel... I'll be freaked) where was I? Ok, I don't need to do specifics I just need to do things. It's the doing that stretches experience's envelope thus fulfilling the anxiety I get from inaction... not necessarily what's been done. Anyway, I'm armed with a big red backpack. I've even figured most of the straps and what a feat that was. Off to be me.
02/27/98 - Like a true nerdboy I was in the parking lot with my pin hole eclipse viewer yesterday. It's neat to do something you truly love... maybe I should become a teacher. Someone somewhere (probably Mr Brandt, my earth science teacher) showed me the fine pin hole eclipse viewer using art and I use these skills every chance I get. Like I said, I'm a nerdboy... but that's my calling; what can I do? Speaking of nerdly things. When I was wee I got a checking account. Mom made me, each month, balance my check book. Yesterday, for the first time in a decade I balanced my check book... ok, I didn't take the statement and do the compare thing (I learned in my accounting class this is called reconciliation; I've been working with accountants for 3 years and never truly knew what they meant when they used this word... stupid me), but I did record all my bills and subtract them from my known balance thus giving me my new balance. I've always recorded the checks but I'd not, for 10 years, done the math part. Alright, I'm on the road to fiscal responsibility. And I want thank Mom and Mr Brandt for a pretty cool yesterday.