Talked to ourselves the entire ride and laughed off the questions

that repeatedly took stabs at if we were alright.

Alright is alright

but alright is a state of mind,

Right?

Having spent our last dimes on grape cigars and grape sodas

we skipped setting up the tent and let the trees canopy us from persistent downpours.

The raindrops wapping the wide leaves made the silence enjoyable and the sugar sweeter.

Oh, when I was 17-

My mother said to me:

Don’t stop imagining 

The day that you do is the day that you die. 

…

At least God doesn’t judge me by the thoughts that I find. 

The snakes I couldn’t find,

I don’t want to find. 

Three Floyd’s Dark Lord Day, an annual event held for the release of their Russian Imperial Stout (Dark Lord), is all that it’s cracked up to be. I met so many generous and genuine beer lovers-I can’t remember half of their names or occupations.

The quick and dirty rundown -

Took the shuttle from REGGIES  // Great experience that will be duplicated next year if we’re lucky enough to get a ticket to Dark Lord Day. Reggies is top notch for beer selection (had a Dogfish Head 90 min and a Half Acre Daisy Cutter while waiting) pub food, and the shuttle was a ton of fun.

On the shuttle on the way to Munster // Generous folks pouring a lot of Surly, including Darkness, Peruvian Morning, and Six Point Bengali Tiger. Metal blared as we screamed down to highway to our destination.

At the brewery // Somehow we managed to get past all of the (massive lines) people waiting in line to get in and right up to the front. Grabbed a Zombie Dust and a Hells Black Intellegencer and quickly lined up to get let in for group B Dark Lord sales.

In line // talked to Indianan that went to school in Madison. At this point, my head was already full of delicious booze so I can’t remember what we talked about besides Octopus Car Wash. Sampled Dark Lord 2010 while in line. Tasty but the Hell’s Black overwhelmed my pallet with coffee and made it impossible for anything memorable to be gathered. That’s not a complaint, it’s a fact  and a coffee and beer lovers dream.

Inside the brewery // Traded my ticket to an employee and wound up with one of the many ‘Golden Tickets’ that were handed out on this glorious day of the Dark Lord. I fumbled around, motor skills failing, in my pocket to get out money to pay for all the beer. Seriously- Hunter S. Thompson on ether at this point – I asked if where I was standing wasn’t a reasonable place to park. I then somehow managed to make a decision, after being handed some dollars from my friend, on which elite barrel aged bottle of dark lord I would take home. Vanilla Bean.

And from there it was thunderdome. I met a coffee roaster, a dead head, students from Michigan, cab drivers, beer brewers, contractors, and a slew of other generous individuals.

After all that, I saw no metal bands, didn’t breakdance in the brewery at close, and ended up back at home safe and sound. One note to self for next year -Don’t stand on a hill with a backpack full of beer – you’ll lose your balance and take a digger almost breaking all of the beer that you traveled to buy. No one will laugh but it will still be embarrassing.

In fiction, I like bleak. I like grim. Despair. I’d even say that I like depressing narratives. I feel that they create a negative pulse. A gulp and frown reaction at the end of nearly every chapter that makes you realize that maybe you don’t have it too bad or in some cases, that you’re not alone in whatever darkness envelops you.

I also like having physical reactions to literature.

My physical reaction to Bukowski’s semi autographical novel, HAM ON RYE – multiple showers after reading.

There’s just something about the story and the telling of it, a coming of age tale where there’s no redeeming qualities and not a single character that I felt attached to or sympathetic for, that was fascinating. I read it in two days. And I don’t normally do that. And I can’t tell if the fast pace was because I was flipping pages faster than usual because I needed to find out if the main character ended up getting laid, to me the quest at the heart of HAM ON RYE, or if he actually acquired anything resembling compassion.

If there’s bait for a reader to plow through this book, whether or not it was purposeful or not, the masterful tension created by the main character’s lust and a lasting hope for the reader that an author wouldn’t create such an ugly and revolting character that would go through even a small change for the better by the end.

HAM ON RYE closes with disappointment. It’s a firecracker that never goes off. A let down. But that doesn’t take anything away from my enjoyment. Henry Chinaski, the protagonist, winds up in the same place as he was at the start – defeated and a total prick. While the reader gains insight into why he’s a prick – the terrible acne, the uncaring parents, etc. but what really influences my final diagnosis is the fact that he makes no attempt to change his shit situation in life and his proliferation of hateful behavior (could/should) lead the reader to detest him.

And I was more than okay with that.

Some people read books as  a guide for how to live a better life and this, you would read this as a guide on how not to live your life.

All that said, I enjoyed the hell out of it. It’s honest and ugly.

Slowed by the dayswimmers

and gravediggers.

Nightcrawlers and court justices.

I sold my ego to pay a parking ticket,

threw my hat into too many rings.

Question:

Is it really better to burn out

than to fade away.

I blew up.

And instead of fading away,

I tossed it,

wrapper and all,

into some trash heap gutter.

Dust to dust,

Earth to earth -

Sometimes it feels good to rid yourself of it when you can.

We shoved a bottle rocket into its respiring mouth and lit it.

When it didn’t die,

awestruck,

one of us flicked it back into its habitat

while we watched it slowly descend .

Later that day I set off M80s and more bottle rockets with a lit Newport,

secretly hoping I’d blow my fingers off for the fish.

But I only got grounded.

And told there must be a black cloud hanging over me.

It was the last night of summer.

The breeze danced through the screen and past the shade in my room,

It calmed the guilt in my heart.

Kids reveled, laughed, and “made time” with the neighborhood girls on that final night of freedom.

No one would talk to those girls again until next summer.

Or winter break.

They were summer girls.

Mostly.

I can still smell the cool night air and hear the conversations that lived vibrantly without me while the moon rose.

They weren’t even nights.

They were Sunday mornings that remained.

Even as the sun would fade,

The slept in clothes remained -

the coffee breath – constantly refreshed -

remained.

And the empty feeling of facing the day’s remainder in a steamy one-room

box where the TV antennae was the only non-geometric shape to meet your eye -

remained.

The floors stayed clean.

Mirrors weren’t smudged.

The words weren’t spoken.

and.

Sundays weren’t massive.

They weren’t even.

brushing our sleeves against one another’s.

I asked silly questions —

but was only curious -

Did you like flowers?

Did you love me?

It was a crash course

that tangled us in the weeds.

You carved my initials into your inner thigh

with a jagged stem -

not being careful or cautious of your artery,

you shielded me from your actions and

the tears that clung to the corners of your mouth.

Smiling.

I ran a marathon last year. I know that most of you either know that already or could care less but … you might care about what I listened to for 4 hours and 50 minutes. The idea for this post comes from NPRs recent Fresh Air about workout music which in turn caused my cube neighbor to ask me if there was a band or song that I would consider motivating. I was also motivated to put this up because I just today found the home of said playlist – my 2nd Gen iPod Nano.

And before you get too critical or threaten to burn any credit I may have as a music recommending friend – all I ask is that you remember the good times. Know that some of the selections were made out of desperation and only to fill time. I know I broke mixtape rules but … this is workout playlist. Cut me some slack. And please, if you can – try and forgive my undying adoration for Jackson Browne.

I’ve also created a playlist of all of the tracks that are available on Spotify.

Here goes:

Arms Like Boulders – The War on Drugs

Texico Bitches – Broken Social Scene

Doctor My Eyes – Jackson Browne

Is This Love? Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Digital Love – Daft Punk

Can You Discover? – Discovery

All I Want – LCD Soundsystem

Black Night – The Dodos

My Old Ways – Dr. Dog

3 Dimes Down – Drive-By Truckers

List For Life – GIRLS

Rock Me on the Water – Jackson Browne

G.O.O.D. Friday – Kanye West

Gone – Kanye West

Shadow People – Dr. Dog

Home – LCD Soundsystem

Your Time is Gonna Come – Led Zepplin

The Righteous Path – Drive-By Truckers

P.Y.T. – Michael Jackson

Death on the Stairs – The Libertines

Fat Man in the Bathtub – Little Feat

The Breeze – Dr. Dog

Crazy Feeling – Lou Reed

What are you Willing to Lose – Lucero

Cameras – Matt & Kim

Fade Away – Oasis

Tine to Pretend – MGMT

Roscoe – Midlake

Holland, 1945 – Neutral Milk Hotel

Hey, Hey What Can I Do? – Led Zepplin

Broke – Modest Mouse

X- Mas Curtain – My Morning Jacket

All of the Lights – Kanye West

The Breakup – The Rural Alberta Advantage

Where to Begin – My Morning Jacket

Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes – Paul Simon

Kill Devil Falls – Phish

Secret Meeting – The National

This Tornado Loves You – Neko Case

Ghost – Neutral Milk Hotel

RIngfinger – Nine Inch Nails

Juicy – Notorious B.I.G.

Stay Young – Oasis

Lost Coastlines – Okkervil River

ATLiens – Outkast

Southernplayaslisticadillacmuzik – Outkast

Little Secrets – Passion Pit

Mahgeeta – My Morning Jacket

I know What I Know – Paul Simon

Stereo – Pavement

Summer Babe  (Winter Version) – Pavement

Passing Me By – The Pharcyde

Hallelujah – Ryan Adams

Backwards Down the Number Line – Phish

1901 – Phoenix

Brothers Gonna Work it Out – Public Enemy

12:51 – The Strokes

Imitation of Life – R.E.M.

Everything In Its Right Place – Radiohead

Rock ‘n’ Roll Star – Oasis

Wasting Time – Reading Rainbow

I will Dare – The Replacements

Handshake Drugs – Wilco

Taking the Farm – The War on Drugs

Two Lovers – The Rural Alberta Advantage

New York, New York – Ryan Adams

The Wall – Yuck

The Comeback – Shout Out Louds

Rill Rill – Sleigh Bells

Two Kinds of Happiness – The Strokes

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground – The White Stripes

Everybody Knows – Ryan Adams

Company in my Back – Wilco

Get Away – Yuck

Together.

Trading punches and clinking bottles.

Shooters, mostly.

Little vessels of strawberry wine. Or maybe something peach flavored.

Something breezy to kill the sting of the harder stuff.

Remember that time the bus driver didn’t let me on?

Said the Greyhound was no place for drunkards.

That was Memphis.

She hated my face, my stale smile.

She said it made her miserable.

More miserable than the smell of the river.