notes of a dirty old dan: saw that train and I got on with a heart full of hate and a lust for vomit dressed like a third rate tramp with a crumpled stained one dollar bill making itself at home in the front pocket of my jacket, jail calling and taunting me from across the street of the comedy club and the Rock and Roll show on the same block. that neon moon casting shadows of knives and new death across the broken buildings that surrounded me. the glowing ember at the end of my smoke told me things, told me to do things, my manager saying Ill sign us up... then disappearing as the sun does at dusk. My wife kissing me saying Good luck tonight baby. Come see me at the club after the band, okay? Then watching as she did that same disappearing act as my manasger. The glowing ember fastly fading, Caught in conversation as made my way towards my destination, hurling the half full beer can against the wall of what used to be a thriving business. I just want to apoligize for the other night... No problem Comrade...I got a place I need to be... Hearing the sounds that leaked from the crack in the double doors at the bar, I knew I had to get in somehow, there was a bigger band in town and tickets were expensive and its hard to grease a bouncers palm for a good table with a stained one dollar bill, I lied and said I was on the list, I wasnt but I thought it would take him awhile to figure that out and by the time he did I would be dancing like a snake charmed by a bad flute playing, he reacted quicker than I thought, saw the owner and said Talk to him, let me talk to him and ask, I just want to see this band, my friends band then Ill leave. Bouncer walked off and I went in, tapped the owner on the shoulder and took the pledge, he smiled and said Of course, dont worry about it. Got the wristband thing wrapped around my lower arm, then made my way towards the front, so many hellos and hugs to say to the scattered crowd, did my best to fulfill social obligations, Im not complaining but I was so focused on hearing and watching my friends do music in front of a paying audience that they wrote in a goddamn garage somewhere. I wished my wife was with me as I witnessed this incredible experience, you cant see sound...thats wierd to me, song after song or should I say volley after volley from those cannons of amplifiers and that damn deadly BOOM BOOM SNAP of the drums kept my feet moving as it the rest of my body, I was having fun while everyone around were waiting to be noticed when the headliner came on, holding an unlit smoke in my good hand, the one that did have a wristband whipping its palm with a ruler like a catholic nun on a bender, the one thought that exploded in my mind is that there is only one kind of music...dance music or as I would like to call it DANce music, I swung my shoulders, snapped my fingers while the tie I wore around my neck like a noose whipped wildly with every slight twitch and tumble, the future seemed so far away and the present didnt exist and I didnt know where I parked the past, nothing mattered, little small talk between songs, another rush, another needle piercing flesh, letting loose store bought toxins, recasting every honor youve ever been denied, I felt like I wasnt watching my friends, I felt like I was watching god on a bad day and he wanted to tell you about it...and make you pay for the priviledge. The music unmercifully stopped, I wanted another song, Make one up! I shook all their hands and said what needed to be said aka That was better than last time...I wanna quit playing Rock and Roll after each one of your shows... You say that after every show... And Ill continue to say it because I am too lazy to lie... Thanks for showing up... Thanks for the record...ti never leaves my stereo...I got to go to the open mic around the corner and bore people with my wit. (Laughs) Okay... The night tore me apart, a stranger who claimed to know me said loudly Dan! Dan! Come here! I felt my head and wondered where my hat was then I remembered my wife saying You left it at home. Its good to see you man! You staying for the show? I said I got another show to do round the corner. What, blow a homeless man? AHAHAHA! I smiled because that was funny and said Nah, open mic, no pay and no compliments about my character... Why would you want to do that? I like being beaten. He asked me if he could have my cigarette and I said Nah, I would surrender this trophy but its my prop for the night and a part of my act. I saw a joker like grin on his face and he sent me on my way. Elvis in his grave and robin williams hung himself. GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!! A sparse crowd at the comedy club, said another round of hellos, smokes bummed, my comic pals milling around the back of the bar waiting to go on, waiting to make our awful entrances, my comic pals outside smoking while standing on sidewalks that were created before they were born. Howve you been? Havent seen you in awhile... My wife waving me over to a table while my manager was committing mass murder and ordering suicides on stage while joke after joke struck the jugulars of the collected town hall meeting thats called an audience. The curtain came down after friend after friend told their stories on stage. I held my wifes hand and the host said Youre up next... I held the beer close to me like a mother would her stillborn baby, that gallows walk and I heard applause even though I hadnt said a damn word yet, my mind telling me Try another angle... I sat down on the stool, there in the front was Oswald and I asked silently in my head Can you get me through this?, not a sound, not a damn sound, it was up to me to do this, this draft that I signed up for, the blackness beyond the lights crippled me and before I could remember how to spell my name it was over and I was back in her arms., with that crumpled stained one dollar bill still shifting furniture around in the front pocket of my jacket, a few more catcalls, a few more cigarettes, that long lonely silence between friends when neither has anything to say, when neither wants to talk, when neither wants to hear anything, nothing at all, I watched my wife with her jacket full of Elect Randy Pretzer for the 28th District Court pins from that ancient campaign that he lost that made that book the scarlet letter seem like the weakest of lifetime channel movies. Reminded me of that scene in Taxi Driver where Travis Bickle, whose character was based on Saint Oswald according to certain sources, has all these posters advertising Palatine on his wall of that dingy apartment whom he would later attempt to assassinate. I want you to stab me in the stomach...I want you to stab me in the stomach... The rest fell away as dominoes in a dimly lit room with no air conditioning, after the open mic (yes I am a success), there was a moment when I heard a voice, the voice said something I cant repeat, I looked at my friends, my comic pals, my wife, my best friend, the ember glowed again, my mother wept, and then I swore that I would take my life as I would a whore... Sometimes you have to scream to be heard...Reich and Roll, Seig Heil, see ya at the gig Comrades...please dont die but if you do, make sure it is front of me so I can take your money that you wont have much use for because you are dead and being dead doesnt hold well at the DMV....
Posted on: Fri, 12 Dec 2014 21:21:47 +0000
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