I won

Friday! Man, I tell you, other than the paycheck I think the best thing about working for a living is the concept of Friday. I got me some take-out Chinese food and marijuana. It's Friday!

What are you going to do this weekend, farmboy?

It's my sister-in-law's birthday Sunday so we're going to do something like go out to breakfast. I'll do some chores and, of course, I'll play music and work on the CD. What I'm thankful for is that I don't have to fuckin' work. I love it when I don't have to work, 'cause then I can do my real job of working on music.

I bet that feels good.

Oh, man, that's the best -- doing what your real work is. For me it's creating music. I lucked out, huh?

You're good at music, farmboy. Don't sell yourself short.

I hope I'm good. I grew up with the idea that music was not something I could do, that it was for other people. I have these sad stories growing up with people informing me that I have no right or ability to make music.

Why would they do that?

Beats me. All I know is that I'm making an album and they're not.

In other words, I won.

Victory is good, farmboy.

Victory is the best when it involves making music...

...Doing what you're supposed to be doing.

Exactly, man.

You remind me

Damn, man, I'm so fuckin' tired and there's so much to do. I'm a broken record, man -- I just complain and complain over and over about the same thing. Work, tired, sleep repeat.

And you're making an album.

And I'm making an album. That's the difference, you know that? And I'm still working, you know, I'm practising, I'm planning. I'm thinking, man.

Where are you at with the CD now, farmboy?

I'm at the same point, which is not a bad place. I'm working on getting ready to record the demos, I'm playing the songs and still getting acquainted with the newer songs. I've also been doing some writing, but not enough. I'm pretty satisfied, though.

You know, man, I talk talking with you 'cause you remind me about who I really am. Like tonight I was all tired and shit but you got me thinking about the album and life seems a lot better. Thanks, man.

You're welcome. And thank you. That's really nice to hear.

Damn, you know, life throws so much fuckin' bullshit at you it's easy to forget what your real priorities are. Like for me, it's music, it's making this CD. That's what everything else is for.

scout's honor

connect me with you

prove to me that I'm human

I won't be afraid

I will try my best

put my hand upon my chest

I won't be afraid

scout's honor

I will be your lover

like no other

scout's honor

I will be the one

with you undercover

scout's honor

I am seriously blessed

So remember the beginning of a song I showed you yesterday?

"Hobo Jungle." I liked that. I want to see where it will go.

Man, I tell you, what a tough song. I have no clear idea of where I want to go with this. I mean, I'm just fuckin' clueless, man. I don't know if I have anything to say.

Just keep going back to it, farmboy. But don't force it.

I know what you mean about forcing it. That's the hard part -- working on it without forcing it, or giving it a forced ending. Anyhow, that's where that's at. It's all a fuckin' learning experience, you know. It's such a weird process. this songwriting stuff.

It's interesting to see you going through the process. I had no idea how complicated songwriting is.

I think any creative outlet is. Other things too. I'm sure the process baseball players have to go through is fascinating, you know.

Anyway, that's what I do. I get to be a creative person in this life. I get to be an artist. I am seriously blessed. But it's still hard work.

But it's work you like.

It's work I have to do. It's like it's in my DNA or something.

hobo jungle, part one

down by the edge of town

where the water runs down

down where the weeds grow high

north of the county line

there's a place I've never seen

but I hear it's pretty mean

and they call it hobo jungle

back when I was a kid

I remember my mama said

son if you don't start walking straight

boy it will be your fate

you'll wind up like those men

whose dreams come to an end

down in hobo jungle

so I studied hard and played the game

obedience was my middle name

and I did what I was told

till my head was gonna explode

to be continued...


(last verse 7/9/2012)


but every now and then
those thoughts come back again
and I dream of hobo jungle

Which is a luxury

Man oh man, I tell you, this is day one of a three-day weekend, and I've done nothing, man. All I've done all day is smoke weed and hashish, sleep, work on the CD, practice songs for the CD, and listen to podcasts. And, okay, I masturbated, I looked at nekkid women on the internet. I bought take-out Thai food...

Mmmm. What did you get, farmboy?

I got Pad See Eu with beef, medium heat.

Sounds like a good day to me. How does it feel to you?

A little claustrophobic, because it's been dark and cold and I know it's rained some. Yesterday was sunny, and a friend of mine said "This will be the last sunny day for a while," and I'm thinking that maybe he's right. It's sad sometimes, this fuckin' Pacific Northwest. One of these days, man, I'm gonna move back to good ol' Austin, Texas where barbecue is both a style of cooking and a religion.

But it's been restful, it's been good. Working on the CD was good. Practicing was really good, it was fun.

So how's your day been? You got me used to just talking about me, which I don't like. Sorry.

No need to be sorry. That's why I'm here, to hear about your life.

By the way, it's been a good day. It's been restful for me as well. Sometimes a little too restful.

I know what you mean, man. Parts of my day actually were, like, boring. Which is a luxury, I know. Having that kind of time, I mean.

Hey, I'm gonna have some Pad See Eu. Want some?

I just ate, farmboy, but thanks anyway.

It's good stuff, man. Medium spice, not too hot.

out of poetry

I have only words

I am out of poetry

in my native tongue

I cannot escape

or run and hide, disappear

into horizons

I stand before you

guilty -- guilty as charged, sir

I await judgement