Shit talking behind my back is the biggest compliment one can give me.

I've had a few conversations with a several different friends recently at different times about rumors, gossip, and general backstabbing from "supposed" friends. It's really had me wondering if I truely believe my knee-jerk response that "I don't care." I've gone through my mental file cabinet of the last couple years to see if I can remember any instance in which I let someone's shit talking affect me. And I've honestly come to the conclusion that, yeah, it has on a rare occasion or so.
I think that those few times it's been the case...it's been when I let my guard down and something is said by people that know me a little more than the average zero that doesn't mean jack shit to me. But bascially, I DON'T give a damn what's said about me by the other 99.9% of the human race. Rumors....gossip....it doesn't affect me. How could it? The people spouting it aren't my friends. The people believing it aren't either. I was raised by a wonderful mom that taught me: words are just that....words. They can't hold you back or keep you down. They aren't true unless you LET them be true. Sometimes it's a long hard task....but I was taught to trudge forward and to "do your thing" will in the end prove nay-sayers wrong. I have always tried living by that creed and it's worked for me for the most part.
I guess I have an adavantage that helps me keep my eye on the prize. Growing up poor, and unpopular...it's helped me grow a thick skin. I learned long ago that people LOVE running their mouths. It gives them a sense of power to change another person's perception of you, and it costs them nothing. Much like other like-minded people, I get a certain amount of fuel out of the world of mis-information that forms behind me. It drives me even harder to be the best person, employee, or musician that I can possibly be. There's a satisfaction that comes along with someone saying TO me, "Man....you're not what I heard you were all about.". It's happened quite a bit actually. That's not to say that some of the rumors are without a degree of truth. I had this rep locally of being "negative". And honestly...that was the truth....somewhat. And hearing the nicknames "Capt Crumm" and shit like that, probably was the best thing that could of happened to me. Over that past couple of years, I'm a much more focused person who rebounds from defeat (musically, professionaly, and romantically) much quicker than before.
There's also the fact that I find empowering, is that, there is a reason that people will talk BEHIND your back. There is a reason that rear ended RUMORS are just that...because the people spreading them haven't the resolve to confront you with it. You are viewed as socially dangerous. It's better to be either loved or hated..but never ignored. Most people strive to be styrofoam or light-beer. I strive to be a bed of nails or 100 proof. There's no shades of gray for me, Everything is stark black-n-white...and I have no problem saying it. Detractors are intimidated, and they do their best to chop away at your credibility underneath your radar. I think that kind of behavior is about one of the best left-handed compliments somebody can pay me.
Anyway....I did my best to keep this piece as grammitically correct as possible. I'm sure I failed within the first 5 words. But I tried reguardless in honor of my 10th grade English lit teacher Mrs. Vicki Honeycutt, who I found out passed away this week. She was the best teacher I had the same year that I was a new student at Mt. Pleasant HS. She exposed me to my favorite movie "12 Angry Men" and spoke to us as people, not subjects. I'm forever grateful.
Also, another passing that should be noted is that of Bruce Roehrs. Bruce was a long time columnist and contributor to the punk rock standard known as Maximum Rock-n-Roll. And for ATLEAST the past decade...he was really the only voice of real rock-n-roll that was pushed in those pages. I had the pleasure of meeting Bruce a few times over the years and thanking him personally for kind, unsolicited words he included in his columns that were complimentary to both my band The Dead Kings and and my solo project (which he attended the first live peformance) Biggy Stardust and his Wretched Hive. This goes out a truely great guy. Rock-n-roll is now a little more bland due to his absense.

Man...you gotta be kiddin me...

For a LONG time, I've always said that females who constantly fail at relationships do so because they generally don't date actual, real MEN. I still think that. However, the fault doesn't squarely rest on the shoulders of the fairer sex. I think the problem is that, the American male is an endangered species.

Ok, I'll get to my point. This schmo at work quits his job today.....because a guy we work with shouted something at him. You read that right...he was shouted at. The kicker is, it wasn't even in frustration or anger, but the fact that the machine he was running was screwing up and he couldn't hear what was being said to him.

Now....a little background info. I work in a bindery shop. Bindery is any process done to printed material after it leaves the press. And our shop's business is making yearbooks for highschools all across the country. I've been in this line of work for 20 years. It's fucking tough and it wears you out. Machines are loud and sometimes things get hectic. And I'll even submit...the guys who unoffcially run our particular process, are without social graces or tact. They sometimes shout a little too loud and sometimes it catches you off guard. But they're old and have both been there over 40 years each.

But you know, that shit doesn't matter. Be a man.....grow the hell up. We work in a production shop. This isn't a fuckin nursery. We work hard..and sometimes shit gets crazy. Sometimes people shout. Then shout back. But quit???? Give me a break. What the hell is the matter with the American male these days??? Why are we becoming increasingly mamby pamby whiney little bitches? "Ooooooo....someone was loud at me.....I'm outta here". That basically, in a nutshell, is what actually happen. It seems even more riduculous now that I'm seeing it typed out.

Is this the norm now? I hope not. I work hard and take my lumps like any working man should. It's funny...because I work with quite a few retirement age folks, including a woman in her 70's. These people never cry or bitch or complain. They just do. My FORMER co-worker has actually asked our supervisor for different tasks because he was bored or tired with what he was currently doing. Jeez louise!

Well, he's gone and all I can think is "good riddance you crybaby douche bag."

It was inevitable......

Some of you knew this was bound to happen. I sometimes get diarrea of the fingertips and think to myself "Boy I need to write this down". Don't worry, this isn't going to turn into my soapbox to voice my political observations. I mean....politics may occasionally take a stray bullet from time to time. But I have no interest in trying to convert you or anyone else into MY way of thinking.

Also, I have no wife-n-kids. So I won't be updating this thing with pictures of my non-existant family and the now melting hypothetitical snowmen they left in my imaginary yard. And I have no interest in posting pics of beautiful landscapes or trees I shot while on some vacation I will probably never take.

The thing is, I enjoy writing. And enough stuff goes through my cranium through out the day to take up all the bandwidth on the world wide web. I'm gonna do my best to filter out anything not worth reading. But see, I play music. Or atleast I TRY to play music. That alone provides me with enough frustration and enjoyment to keep this thing updated quite often. I'm also considered by some to be "negative" because of my critical view of almost everything in modern pop culture. To be honest, I think I'm a fairly centered guy who has impeccable taste in music, art, cinema, food and women. Plus, I'm alot happier than most realize. I shoot to be a realist. Although alot of my own daily failures may occasionally, and temporarily, affect what I presume to be reality.

And be warned....I do not use spellcheck. I don't need "polishing". Well....not on this blog anyway.