all I want to do is spend time with my wife, family, and friends.
Run when I want.
Travel.
And see Phish.
Simple, somewhat irresponsible, but this is all we get.
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If every day is infamous,
And I believe that they are …
I probably should’ve saved the receipt.
Pocketed a napkin.
Or maybe picked up a tossed away penny.
All of these memories are starting to disintegrate as the days of infamy fade –
And can now only to be recounted by graphics on show posters or the words that populate never read reviews.
Even though those house are rebuilt … the wood is warped. The foundation faulty. They’re quickly condemned and torn down.
But beating on –
Driven by nothing.
Heading … everywhere.
Tilly came by on a Tuesday to tell me that my teeth looked funny.
It’s cool – I’ve got a bad reputation for …
Talking about what it’s like when excitement wains and your feet get quiet,
and your reasoning … begins to slow to a wasteful pace.
Sometime, long ago, it may have been right to fix it with substance or speaking to qualifieds – now we just take leaps of faith hoping we land on firmer ground. And that our teeth don’t look too funny to Tilly.
She’s good at telling.
Dripping into the middle of a terribly forecasted year, 1987 has been an ink stain on the fabric of my being.
We left off with your anti-hero, mind made up to abandon his tickets to see Trey Anastasio’s first solo tour at Madison’s Oscar Mayer Theater to see some dude named Tom Waits.
Well, as it turns out – the burn outs – the ones with the wide eyes and exciting smiles – the ones that hugged absolutely everyone that came within 22 inches – had eaten some bad information. Tom Waits wasn’t in town. Tom Jones wasn’t either. Tom Waits was in AMSTERDAM. No idea about the whereabouts of Tom Jones.
And 14 years later, with a the light bulb struggling to retain its glow – I continue to chase seeing that man in concert.
I definitely won’t be posting everyday about my personal, no reason but because I eat too much cheese challenge to eliminate dairy from my diet but figured it wouldn’t be too douchey to post an update after the first two days.
The verdict: I gotta say that minus the one close call with a Dark Chocolate and Sea Salt Kind bar (it stupidly contains milk powder), I haven’t had too hard of a time. From my very limited vantage point and short time in the dairy-free game – it seems that there are a reasonable amount of options for everyday foods for those that can’t or choose not to eat dairy.
Yesterday and today I had yogurt made with almond milk – not bad – the consistency was a little strange but it was a fair substitue.
I’ve switched from Brummel and Brown Yogurt Spread to Smart Balance and it’s good.
I also had some Almond Milk pudding and am excited to try coconut ice cream.
My friend Sammi is a great resource as is everything she puts up at Dairy-Free State. But if you’ve ever tried going dairy free and have some tips – let me know.
I’m assuming that it will only get harder but … so far so good.
Two days in and still smiling.
Bye.
“Hey Tony, what you doing for lunch today?”
“Dominating a grilled cheese at any one of the 43 places near here that will put as much cheese as possible on bread and smother it with honey mustard. ”
“Oh, cool. I’lll grab a salad.”
This is one reason that I’m taking a break from dairy. I eat too much of it. I rely on it. It’s a comfort zone that’s not healthy in the quantities in which i ingest it and it’s a crutch that prevents me from eating foods that are a lot better for me.
It also makes me feel a little off. Nearly every morning I eat a greek yogurt. After I eat that yogurt I feel in between not great and terrible. It goes away after a short time but … it’s stil not a desirable feeling.
And lastly, my friend Joel wrote this blog post on eliminating dairy and wheat from your diet which is another motivating factor.
The plan for now is to eliminate dairy (not vegan, as I’ll still eat eggs) for a month to see if I feel any better. If I don’t, I’ll decide how much I miss it. I find it hard to believe that I’ll never eat a piece of cheese again or have a glass of chocolate milk or worse yet – have a Blizzard on a hot summer day but, we’ll see.
We hit rock bottom on a Sunday.
Or maybe I should say I hit rock bottom on a Sunday.
Blankets were pulled.
Light was exposed.
And anguish was expressed.
On a Sunday.
At the beginning of each week, eyes are just starting to open –
fussy; confused; self-absorbed and self-loathing; inferior; lost
sometimes failing to fully awaken until Tuesday.
Or.
Sometimes eyes will fail to fully awaken without prying or coaxing from outside sources.
But still.
This cycle of starting and reinventing, regularly.
It’s repetitious. It’s vile. It’s defeatist.
But it is breakable.
Everything’s breakable if you break it:
-
Computers
Phones
Hearts
Habits
At rock bottom, you have no choice but to break. Break the process of constantly trying to reinvent yourself. Break the process of trying to constantly reinvent your fragility. Break the process of constantly trying to reinvent time. And break the process of constantly trying to reinvent space.
At high doses, those processes are all detrimental.
At rock bottom you can’t go any lower. All of the things, covering you – you’ll have to break to be able to move upward.
Tailspins.
They’re not so unexpected.
But who plans for a tailspin?
All of the training in the world
matched with all of the intricate specifications and technology
Will not and cannot save you from a tailspin.
You’ll whirl around at speeds never before experienced
while the world outside of your vessel
shatters any equilibrium
or stasis that remained intact before the dive.
Tailspins can’t be prevented
but they won’t kill you.
A good tailspin can resurrect you.
We used to ask that kind of question when choosing our lifelongs.
You know, the do you like The Beatles type of question? Or Otis?
But, fuck, how our tastes have evolved into:
Have you ever pondered the differences between bop and hard bop?
or.
Have you ever contemplated smashing someone’s face to The Stooges’ Fun House?
What about….
No.
Maybe we’ve devolved into uppity fuckers who like good music.
or.
Maybe we just prefer the gutter.
BLONDE ON BLONDE 