Fireworks and 4ward Observers

So it’s July 4th. I’ve just had a day of customer service work, and just found out I have the 5th off.

On the subway back, well, good music, and training new TuneTroopers in Song Summoner. ( What is Song Summoners? Think Final Fantasy+Pokemon+Click Wheel iPods in a guilt free threeway, with lighting and costuming from 1983-1985. YEAH, a game THAT GOOD!!!)

So finally, I get to the roof top party. And it was great. Due thanks to the hosts for one of many fantastic bashes.

But, after a day of helping people find their consumeables, dealing with staff members who resent me doing my job right (getting them to do their job right), and the vagaries of my schedule, I found my mind in, well…

You know how the American Anthem is about Fort McHenry coming under English Naval Bombardment, right?

So I’m talking with this one dude, a good dude, as fire works start popping up.

“Yeah, those Jersey fireworks are whimpy.”

Two strikes at once. One, mocking Jersey unfairly. Hit the Garden State where it’s weeds are, but not where the sweet Jersey corn is. Two,dude, open your eyes, dude.

Dude.

“Uh, that’s not Jersey. Look, you see the Statue of Liberty? The blasts are bigger than it, the black puffs of gun powder are in front of it. And look.. they are framed by the lights of a baseball park which is clearly by the highway, on our side of the East River. That’s not Jersey. That’s some local fireworks here in Brooklyn.”

And then, some fireworks popped off behind the Statue of Liberty. Like, in Liberty State Park.

“Now, look… see… size, relative distance. THOSE are Jersey.”

The dude, the good dude, nodded. A little startled. Either by my skill or by my being strange. Bit of both, I assure you.

And in fairness through to the attendees, much love was given to Jersey Fireworks when the Manhattan skyline blocked off a good portion of the Macy’s fireworks.

It was at this time, that two roof top parties, much drunker and less concerned with human life than ours, did a combination of roof-to-roof volleys, and vicious in fighting. It was cool to wash, especially when it looked like one of them may have set a church on fire… which didn’t happen. Burning churches bad, but seeing some drunken hipster being dragged away for poor marksmenship?

Priceless.

Anyhow, the dude, the good dude, mentioned if they started firing on us, we’d be screwed.

“Well, we don’t have any fireworks, and they do have slightly higher ground on us. But look… look at the roof.” The roof top was flat, then gently slopped up to what would make passable battlements.

“We have those slopes, which offer us protection, and a natural aid in directing fire towards them. I mean, yeah, they land something right in the middle of us, it would be bad, but we could totally take them in direct fire.”

Again, the sense of awkwardness. I smiled, drank more, and wandered off to different conversation in the company of a lovely young woman some of you may know.

I came to an important conclusion.

Should the world devolve into armed chaos, and we had to rely on each other a force of arms to survive, my 4th of July party goers would be genial companions. I know our barbecue chef of the day would be great in our party, able to grill any meat into something delicious. Our hosts would be great to have in our horde for their organizational skills, among other things.

But I would want no one, absolutely no one in a five block radius in the role of foreward artillery observer.

There would be no fire for effect.

At all.

Dude.

Magazines that are leaving me. By no choice of their own.

Since I started living in the APT in the BKL, (WTfrak?), I’ve picked up a  mess of magazine subscriptions. Some where through reupping on Salon, other on the stark denial that I really didn’t need to waste a hundred or so bucks on foreign music mags, especially the ones without the pics of hot chicks dancing on drugs that would make Ken Kesey say “No, no. No.”

So I’m letting some go. Just fade away. Who knows? I might even get around to recycling them…
1) Q. Since getting my first music magazine and mixtape back in the UK in ‘92, I’ve always appreciated the English model. Buy a magazine, get a mix tape/CD, pillage said mix tape/CD for the obscure tracks that make your mix tapes/CD’s look so frikkin cool. And while CMJ is the American stand out, the Virigin Megastore at 14th’s street, the Tower in the Village, and assorted Universal News’ could keep you up to date with what was being published/compiled on the other side of the pond.

Select Magazine and Uncut were particular stand outs, Select disappearing from around 2001, Uncut becoming a favorite.
And then there was Q. Q features a very snarky vibe, something closer to a Britisn newspaper or gossip rag. Cheeky ,as the Brits might say. It regularly says nice things about an artist in one issue, than ganks them in the letter column in the next issue. It also featured some decent CD mixes, but fewer times over the years. What benefits I get on keeping up with British pop culture- not a bad thing when you work with tourists, are outweighed by the writers being such utter prats.

So good buy to Q.

2) Reason. Reason is one of the free subscriptions from rejoining Salon. It’s a Libertarian magazine, with a dose of Ayn Rand worship mixed in. The best things tend to be the Pete Bagge covers,

The magazine is kind of a right wing version of hanging out with Nader supporters. They know EVERYTHING IS WRONG, and have PERFECTLY REASONABLE ARGUMENTS AND SUGGESTIONS, but nothing that works outside their narrow frame of reference. If you want to get rid of government in people’s lives, but don’t have anything to protect people in it’s absence, what’s the use?

A last read of one or two back issues may be worth it, but Reason is just the converted preaching to the converted.

3) Plenty A bi-monthly environmentalist magazine. Another Salon freebie.

Never quite got around to reading it, caught an advice column. Someone was talking about how to save paper on wedding invites, and dried elephant dung paper was suggested.

Ok. Thanks. I get how screwed we are, but elephant dung paper? And are those local elephants? Are you telling me you would import elephant dung just for your weeding invites?

Such hypocrisy.

4) The New York Review of Books Literary Porn. Or Literature Porn.
Honestly, it’s smart. There is good writing. I think most bloggers wish they could be what the NYRB could be.

But ultimately, it’s like porn. Instead of watching people do things you may or may not want to do to/with people you may or may not want, you are reading about people reading books you may or may not want to read, and likely will never have the time to.

I wish I had the time to catch up on the NYRB, maybe even read a book or two it talks about. But if I had that time, wouldn’t it be better spent reading newspapers or keeping better clued into current events? The NYRB is the one I most regret letting go, just because it would be so geek cool to actually read it.

There are still magazines I don’t read enough, others that are less worthy, or needy, of my subscription than the ones above. But I have a chance in hell of reading them.

Thus, to each departing magazine in order:

1) bugger off, I’ll buy you when you have a cd worth getting you cheeky bastard
2) Uhm, a narrow philosophical viewpoint is not reasonable
3) sorry, not as scared of the end of the world as we know it as I should be
4) mock me in your mandals and turtleneck. I’ll enjoy and pop culture and not cry while I do it

Relationship Scheduling

So I’m almost 6 months into an amazing relationship.

Shocking, I know.

We’ve had our share of challenges, confusions, conundrums, celebrations, concerts, cinema, cerebral moments, celestial highs and all sorts of other good stuff, and the bad stuff that supports the good stuff.

What has been interesting is how a good relationship actually promotes good things, like eating better ( a little, at least) , home pride, and well.. scheduling.

My life in retail doesn’t promote much planning ahead, since you just can’t rely on it. Schedules change, events that you should have known about months ahead, you don’t.

Now, add in a relationship. A kick ass woman. Who you want to be with.

A lot. She’s your girlfriend, for frell’s sake.

And suddenly you realize why scheduling and planning your life is a good thing. Or at least not a bad thing. Because you can do a better job of catching up with people. Seeing movies. Seeing the friends who are really nice to you even though  you are seeing them less.

Oh, and sleeping. Yes, actually getting stuff done so you can ACTUALLY get to sleep.

Yeah, the whole idea you need some in your life to want to live a better life is just a bit co-dependent.

CODEPENENDANCY ROCKS, MAN! WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now what?

Welcome to any stray viewer. This is the first post in CMSS-1971. Hopefully it will be some good stuff.

Things I can promise

1) This is not a relationship blog or sex blog. Sorry, that good stuff will be filed away for screen plays after any statute of limitations has run out.

2) This will not likely have much dirt on my place of work. Why? Cause I like having a job, making money, and understand why writing about the dark recesses of my business place may not be professional.

3) There is no talking about fight club.

Cool. I’ll toss in some more info as we go. In the meantime, good night, talk to you soon.