Hi.
6/3/96 - 100 people were arrested at a traffic checkpoint at which I was checked twice; I passed. Yesterday was as fun as any day I can remember since this time last year. In fact this weekend was as fun as any I can remember since... oh, whenever. My friend Andy's Pop was married saturday evening. I wore a ivory double breasted suit and played groomsman. Then I went to the reception and post reception party. Both were fun. Yesterday was an outside day. I wore T-shirt and shorts. I large group of us (10 maybe... let's see there was Andy, Amanda, Chuck, Megan, Aidan, Kathleen, Pam, Colleen, Maia and me... that's 10) went to the Greek Festival then to Byrd Park then to Maymount then to the airport (it was heading to the airport that I was stopped by the cops) where Maia, Megan and Aidan flew back to NYC, Boston and NYC (via DC) then to Pam's for a short rest then to Kathleen's for a cookout then home for a shower and bed. Next thing you know I'm here and it's today and work is stacking up and I'd better get started. I'll have to take a breather a try and piece together some excellent memories in a moment or so.
6/4/96 - It appears that the UR Web machine is down. I'm writing this in an editor on my PC... I'll paste it in later. I watched a bit of a Lifetime TV movie about sexual harrassment now I'm thinking. First, I was napping in a friend's living room; her roommate had turned the movie on. Now back to the story. The main character was whiney and weird; she treated men poorly, but this one psycho guy really had her beat in the crazy department (he was the bad guy). The character that got me thinking was one of weird girl's friends... the nice guy. He, not knowing the full tilt loose-screwness of crazy guy, tried to offer another logical explaination for male behavior; weird girl bitched him out... actually she said "you're like all the guys in this world; I'm not your friend anymore". This floored nice guy (he thought he was a decent person trying to help a friend); he started questioning his behavior constantly. At this point I left the room and have no idea how the movie ended. Anyway I, believing myself to be a nice guy, didn't get to learn from the movie; I'm questioning myself. I walked out of the apartment this morning to find a women walking her dog. She was about my age and, I thought, very attractive (in a birkenstock, denim skirt, sweater, no makeup, hair in a bun type way). Ok, here is the thought that crossed my mind seconds later. See looked attractive; what if she is a serial killer (that's certainly not an attractive quality). I didn't postpone labeling her attractive; I know nothing about her... Am I any less nice?
6/5/96 - As I mentioned a day or so ago I was in a wedding on saturday. The bride and groom purchased the suits (cream double breasted, where the heck can you rent 6 of those?) for the wedding party. We tied ribbons around our necks for ties. I can't tell you how many Colonel Sanders ("Extra Crispy or Original recipe?") jokes I heard ushering people into the church and at the reception. I like to think the suit also inspires thoughts of that most excellent drink of landed Southern gentry (consumed on porches by men with white hair, white suits, white shoes along with women in hoop dresses with slow, warm accents) the Mint Julep. "Julep" comes from Persian and means rose water. The ingredients come from Ukrops grocery store and the Virginia Alcoholic Beverage Control store and proper mixing means you shouldn't go anywhere because you can't drive and besides it's more fun to sit on the porch with the belle. You need the following: Sugar, 1 package of fresh mint (not dried) and bourbon. Put about a quart of water in a pot and boil it. Pick the mint leaves off the stems and drop them in the boiling water. Dump as much sugar as will dissolve into the hot water (this should be quite a bit). Cover it and let it cook for a a few minutes. The water should be about the color of Rose's Lime Juice. Let the mint water cool (sometimes I pour it in a pitcher and put it in the fridge overnight). Then when the porch and the belle are set, get glasses. Fill each with ice. Put 1 part bourbon and 1 part mint syrup into the glasses. Garnish with a fresh mint leaf (unless you don't want to). The best time to start consuming mint juleps is about 2pm on a HOT sunny summer day. The best locale is, of course, a porch equipped with rocking chairs, friends and a stellar view (a road people walk down is great... you can say "Howdy" and tip your hat or raise your glass as they pass).
6/6/96 - Dang blammit. I'm at a loss again. I made my favorite turn on the to work trek brakeless. I hit it at about 25 mph and didn't have to use the brakes. In fact I didn't even have to downshift... 3rd gear the whole way. It's like dancing. I danced this weekend. I danced with Andy's cousin. I danced to piano blues on the wooden dancefloor of an old Richmond building. Very memorable... I hope. I'm not the most cooridinated fellow alive; I'm probably below average. I really would like to learn the proper way to ballroom dance. I see couples spining and moving together and I'm impressed. Moving to music is easy; it's sychronizing the motion with another person into a whirring oneness that blows my mind. Why does good dancing remind me of flowers? Maybe it's the post Agents of Good Roots sleep deprivation. Maybe it's some kind of romantic predisposition that causes these metaphoric flukes of the mind. Maybe an association was conjured in my young mind; The TV had a vase of flowers on top as it broadcast a Fred Astaire movie. My mom loves daisies and those are the flowers of which I'm thinking. Who knows; who cares? I enjoyed dancing. I will learn to do it better (before my wedding... not that this will be anytime soon). Flowers are a good thing to which to compare anything nice... like Andy's cousin.
6/10/96 - Back from Dixonpalooza I'm sunburned and tired. I was greeted with cries for aid at work. I'm finally getting around to updating my journal about 90 minutes after I normally do it. Oh well. Beaches are ok. They would rock, but I'm afraid of sharks. I go out in the water and waves of paranoia crash into me. I can feel shark teeth ripping into my calf muscle so I race into shore. I repeat this activity all day... then I throw the frisbee for a while and start over. I also like towns with personality. Resort towns are built to look nice, but they lack substance. Something about southern beaches reminds me of military bases... sand. There's so much sand everywhere. I'm tired of eating sand, sleeping in sand and pulling sand out of places sand shouldn't be. I went to drive to work this morning and my car mats were coated with a medium layer of sand. The good thing about this beach trip were my friends. I have exceptionally cool friends. If I could I would quit my job and hang out with my friends all day everyday. As I get older my friends get further away. I bet the best thing about getting married is inviting all your friends to hang out with you. I don't know if I've ever had all my friends in one place. I'd bet that would blow my mind.
6/11/96 - The soul's nature is beyond me. I'd guess it's beyond everyone reading this. Ideas about the unknown are fine, but treating these ideas as science is pretty darned foolish. I read a book; the author said if you could take a person, convert all the body's atomic information into digital information and then "rebuild" the body using the digital picture you would prove there is no such thing as a soul. Basically, if, all technical problems aside, it were possible to beam people (like in Star Trek) from one place to another in the author's opinion (which he stated as fact) the soul does not exist. I say horse hockey! Why should a soul be limited by geometry or geography? I have no clue if souls exist or not, but I believe they do (the proof is not important in cases like this). This is not a point I feel anyone (including myself) will ever be able to argue convincingly but the great thing is IT DOESN'T MATTER. This is beyond science. The danger comes when people don't realize that some things are beyond rational, linear, simple or even complexly scientific explaination. [Warning: Unanounced subject change] I read this quotation the other day (it's now taped to my terminal): "Life... is in the living, the tissue of every day and hour". I'm trying to figure out what this means to me.
6/12/96 -
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but action in the face of fear." I read
that once and have remembered since. It spoke to me until I went running last
night. Nothing scary happened. I started thinking about what the words meant.
When I was in college a friend and I went to Stonewall Jackson's grave every
Halloween to soak up the atmosphere. Our senior year we took hot chocolate.
As we walked threw the cemetery's black iron gates she thought she saw
motion down the path. We were both scared but I laughed it off. We kept
walking. As we closed in on Jackson's tomb something pounced on us from behind
a headstone. Both of us, without thought, bolted. To this day I am bothered
by my reaction; It wasn't courageous. I didn't think; I tossed my hot
chocolate and ran. It turns out the person behind the headstone was an
acquaintance. My friend and I both ripped the knees of our jeans as we tangled
into each other running; these were the incident's worst physical problems.
As usual the mental scars were worse; I let myself down.
Last night I thought flight is action in the face of fear, but flight is not
courageous. Flight, in this case, was not even willful. I'm changing the
original quotation and attributing it to myself:
"Courage is not fear's absence, but willful action in fear's face"
- Lee Parker
6/13/96 - The question I'm asking myself is "Am I living now?". Yeah, I'm not dead yet, but that's not the question's intent. I stayed up late to see my favorite band (Agents of Good Roots; heard of them?) and the fire in my eyes burns for the sleep I lost. Is it the cigarette smoke that causes burning eyes? Whoa, new questions are just popping up without warning... I must ignore all but the first. Ok, I'm still selling my time for money; that's time, a very valuable commodity, I'm not spending on myself. I'm still dissapointing myself by not living up to the standards to which I hold myself. This latter issue should be easy to solve, right? How hard can self motivation be? Well, ask anyone about 10 days after noble New Years resolutions are made. Perhaps I need a definitive plan. Item number one in the plan: I will not procrastinate when I KNOW things that must be done. I'm aware of uncertainty; two words: huge loophole. Ok, my plan sucks so far. Geez, there's nothing I have to do. I don't HAVE to mail the wedding present sitting 2 feet to my left; I could just let the issue slide; I've waited months already. I should wait until my mind clears before making big life decisions... or is that procrastination?
6/14/96 - Here I sit as I do most mornings. From my window I see brick dorms and green trees. Although I overlook a parking lot I only see the top of one car; It's a champagne Ford Escort. I wrecked an older one of the same color in DC near Catholic University. My main memory of the incident was the coinage from my uncovered coin bin floating like snow. I also remember the rain; It was pouring. I think I'll change the subject. Ok, this may sound weird, but try it. Pick up your hand; don't touch anything. Can you feel sensation? I don't think I can although I'm not really certain. I thought I'd be able to, but when I don't touch anything I can't really feel my hands. Ok, I tried again; It's like I feel the blood moving through them. At least I'd describe the feeling as something tingly moving within my hand. Well, that's probably enough weirdness for this morning, don't you think?
6/17/96 - Today will be long. I probably won't be in bed for another 20 hours (hopefully 18 though). After work I have to go back to my apartment, grab my guitar and guitar stuff (not the amp, though), go pick up Andy and chug up to Washington, DC. My band will play a show and then Andy and I will chug back. I decided not to play my regular guitar tonight... this doesn't sound like much, but I don't think I've ever not played my stratocaster in a show. This is getting stupid. Let's talk about something you may care about... I have no idea what that may be. How about city driving? I have to drive in DC. I noticed I've already told you about the car I totaled by Catholic University... that was the last time I drove in DC proper. I'm not looking forward to this. I should send email to Bill Clinton and Al Gore... maybe they'd like to see our show? This shouldn't be too hard; I'll do it right now.
6/18/96 - Everytime I think my life is dull I'll have to remind myself I occasionally drive 2 hours after work to play with my band in DC then drive 2 hours back and come to work (a little late). Sorry I didn't write more.
6/19/96 - I've been reading some cool stuff recently, unfornunately no one wants to talk about the stuff I like. I like physics. My roommates look at me as if I were a freak when I say "Hey, guess what I read today?" I almost think of modern physics as a fantasy world. The scales are so big and so small that I just can't picture what I read about as part of the real world. And the idea that the Universe may one day collapse is pretty weird too. How about if all the stars burned out but the Universe kept expanding forever... that's a weird idea too. And the really small stuff; everything we see, everthing we touch, everything we are, everything is made of the same finite set of small things. The cool thing is as much as we know there is so much we don't know. I read these words all the time "The current theory is...". Following shortly after those is the description of some fantastic idea (e.g. extremely massive but complete invisible "Dark Matter" is all around us causing funny gravitational effects that we see but can't explain anyother way). I have a warped thought; I wonder what it feels like to be at the gravitational center of something really BIG? Ehhh, that's stupid. Anyway, modern physics is so far beyond me; I try to learn, but there is only so much I can understand without someone with whom I can talk. Alone, I just wonder stupid stuff.
6/20/96 - Ok, this is my last journal entry before the marriage of my friend Chris Dixon; I dedicate this to Susan and Chris. One of my favorite pastimes when Chris is around is picking on all the stupid stuff he's done in the past/present and probably will do in the future (I'm not mean; this is the way my friends interact). An example: Right now XL 102 is playing the Scorpions' song "Rock You Like a Hurricane"; Dixon thought the song was "Raunchy Like a Hurricane". Actually that wasn't an exceptional example... it's barely funny. Chris is a great guy; maybe I should concentrate on that. I met Chris when we were 7; His family moved in next door to mine (both families still live there). We were in Scouts together. One time a fellow Scout was learning French; Chris and I made up the word "Goosha" and told him it was French for gear shift. He went around all weekend calling people Goosha. We had to tell him he was using a gibberish word... he wasn't happy. That was 15 years ago. When we went to the beach 2 weeks ago Chris lent me his running shoes because I'd forgotten mine; this act made my day. I think Chris would probably do about anything to help a friend. Well, let's hope Chris and Susan have a long, happy marriage.
6/24/96 - Here's what sucks. I go and have an excellent weekend and then everything sucks. That's a problem. Everytime I have a good time the down side is so huge it makes me think twice about wanting good times. I suppose it's like jumping off a building to enjoy the free fall... you're gonna hit the ground hard. My friend Chris had a superb wedding, beautiful in every way. I experienced what I can only describe as emotional overload. I was standing up front being a groomsman, sweating a river, listening and thinking about things and I had to choke back tears... the next thing I know I'm biting my lip to contain a monsterous fit of laughter. I don't think that kind of swing occurs naturally... it must require monumental circumstances like the marriage of a lifelong friend. Well, my lifelong friend is married and off today for Jamaica with his new wife. I am back at my desk contriving a way to get paid without leaving my apartment... so far, nothing good. What I need to find is a wife of my own who is smarter than I and can work to feed the both of us so I can stay home and raise kids. Bitchin' plan, eh? Oh, that reminds me of a bad joke my friend Andy told me: How do Canadians spell Canada? C. N. D. (C, eh. N, eh. D, eh.). Pretty cool, huh? Well, in my dialect... see y'all later now; ya hear?
6/25/96 - What am I doing here? Wishing for a day off and a big Mountain Dew. I could take a day off and I could have a Dew, but I've scheduled my off time and I'd lose a huge bet if I had a soda. I'll just be disappointed... unsatisfied... depressed... gloomy... you get the picture. I was going to see some Olympic exhibition soccer last night but a storm blew through and my Dad and I chose to bag it. I heard on the news the game was delayed 2.5 hours. I was almost in bed when it started. Instead of watching soccer I tried to bash my head on the ceiling. It's harder than it looks plus I have no vertical leap. After trying for about 10 minutes I was finally able to make contact with a running start. My friend Will could smash his head into the ceiling from a stand still; He's 2 inches shorter than I. We won't discuss the attempt to hit the sprinklers. Before the soccer game Dad and I went to dinner. The storm was booming in full regalia. Dad and I waited in the doorway for a storm break so we could exit the restaurant without frying. A couple finished eating and decided to risk the weather. The man ran for the car and Dad made some kind of lightning comment to the woman. "It's ok" she said pointing at her tennis shoes "I'm grounded." That's the problem, dingy. People's physic's ignorance amuses me (probably the same way my writing style amuses a English Major).
6/26/96 - The last week at work has been spent trying to do the simplest task unsuccessfully... until last night. Since no one really cares about my job I'll speak metaphorically (I love doing this). I was told to spell the word "Cat"; I went out and found an "A", then a "T" and finally a "K". After spending some time arranging them I found "Kat" sounds exactly right. But it's not; It took me the better part of a week to figure out I was wrong... It sounded RIGHT, Dammit! Finally, I ditched the "K" and found a "C" and felt really darned stupid for spinning my wheels for sooooo long on something soooo easy. I thought I could write more on that subject. The weather: It was nice this morning when I left my apartment. Usually it's hot and humid and I can't wait for the car's AC to kick. This morning I drove into work windows down blasting Big Head Todd and the Monsters. I feel good. Well, this is neither exciting nor informative. Later.
6/27/96 - Ok, short story about my roommate Chuck: I get up early. I slept a little late this morning (which I do every once in a while) and Chuck was in the shower when I left my room to go make coffee. Chuck was dressed (whoa, NEWSFLASH... David Lee Roth is back in Van Halen; I just heard it on the radio.) anyway, Chuck was dressed and heading out the door as I was making grits. "Hey Chuck, what are you doing up so early?" "Geez Lee, I gotta go to work; they want me to be on time this morning." I never see Chuck in the morning; I wonder how often he's on time? Ok, lunch story now: I had an Arch Deluxe yesterday. I hardly ever eat burgers, but I had to see what the hype was about. McDonalds says it's an adult burger... it tasted like a hotdog. I think the bacon/sauce combo made it taste less like a burger and more like processed kiddy crap. Lee's rating: 4 of 10. Lee's Advice: 2 fish burgers and a supersized fries to go. The great thing about getting to go: Some of the fries always fall out of the fry container so after you've eaten everything else the fallen fries are a special secret reward... not unlike the treat at the bottom of Cracker Jacks.
6/28/96 - Sometimes, like last night, I'm a big jerk. I didn't mean to be, but intent is not a good excuse. I was helping Will move some stuff... whoa, I was a double jerk. I was playing Will's guitar as Kevin and Will moved Will's stuff. Anyway, Will lives in a big apartment building with an electronic security system. There must be 100 apartments in his building and each apartment picks a 4 digit entry code. So, I figured (and Will sort of helped) that 1 in every 100 combination of numbers should work. Will said "pick something logical and you may just guess correctly". I tried 1865 (the end of the Civil War... Hey, I'm in the south); it didn't work. I tried 1492 (Columbus sailed the ocean blue); it didn't work. I tried 1066 (Battle of Hastings)... the system chugged but nothing happened. About this time an attractive young woman came up carrying 4 full grocery bags. It seems I'd hit some kind of security guess limit so the woman couldn't get into the building. I felt like a jerk. Then, to compound the problem, Will, Kevin and I left. I still feel like a jerk. I'll bet security forces showed up and gave the woman some grief. Actually, I may not have escaped from trouble; There is a security camera above the keypad. Maybe the camera got my photo and a series of ignominious wanted posters will appear in post offices throughout Richmond.