Month: May 2011

Comic communication

So I’m at Comicon Phoenix. Day two. By myself again. I just ordered a cheese burger at the concession stand, plus a drink. They were out of Dr. pepper and Cherry PEPSI so I settled for just PEPSI. I hand the guy my card. He swipes and hands me my receipt. I ask “so should I just wait for a number or what?” When I clarify that I mean for the burger he says he thought I canceled that order and just wanted the drink. Apparently I waved it off with a loose wristed mannerism or something. But I gave him a look that said “weird” which he reciprocated. He charged me for the burger though and the order was placed. Altogether it’s not really that weird is it? It’s a simple miscommunication. The thing is though, this exact same scenario happened yesterday over a slice of pizza. This girl. A pretty girl charged me for just the drink. She thought I had changed my mind about the slice. I waved it off. But I hadn’t. Nor did I the burger. But according to two individual strangers at the convention center concession stands, some insistently indecisive part of me that I am not aware of, is canceling my orders for sustenance all over the place. I know it’s not really all that weird. But it certainly feels that way.



Fickle gear


So I get to the cafe and it’s closed. And it’s hot. And empty and nothing else is around and I hear myself say “I hate this fucking city.” But then this dorky black guy wobbles by on a rainbow colored fixed-gear and I know I don’t. I love this city.


20110512-070632.jpgAnd suddenly there is all this time. Allotments for penciling in. Coffee to be had –with friends. Conversations. Invitations. Shaving cream and razors. Wake to nothing. Make something. Anything and don’t show anybody. Deliver the sounds straight to your chest where you know you feel them. Swing from lamp posts. Smile at girls. Move on. Move. Forget the shit you couldn’t get together and move the fuck on. This. This. this is your little vortex now. The light’s still bright that fucking swirls. She knows you can see through her. She wants you inside to the other side. East bound train in…

Mother’s Day

Am I seriously at a bar for breakfast on mother’s day? Alone mind you. I did already call my mom but all in all it wasn’t the most uplifting conversation. She was basically kinda pissed at my dad for having drank two beers at her mother’s day lunch, which, for various reasons, non of my other brothers could make it to either, and in the parking lot of a Stater Brothers in Temecula, California, spilled the beans on what’s what in real life. It’s nothing crazy I want you to know. Just recession stuff I guess. The stuff of Americana. The story of now. And it is real and that’s what hit me. The reality. I’m big on fantasy you know. My head is most always rolling around in the what if dimension. But my parents are the two most grounded people I’ve ever had the pleasure of descending from. Preposition. That is not to say they both aren’t exuberant in their own way. Trust me. They are. But right now they are going through real stuff and have to make real decisions and talking to my mom about it checked my ass. I have some big ol’ dreams. And they are a work in progress no joke. But I’m not really there yet. Still kind of dreaming while I accomplish a little here and a little there. Reality can’t wait for baby steps though. I gotta make shit happen now, not for myself but for my mom. And my dad. And my family.