Ambivilant Feelings

I find myself, more often than not, gushing a torrential outpouring of words. My thought process exists in complete sentences, so much so, that when I dream, I can not only read, but write as well. For me to admit that a topic is hard to talk about, is to say a lot.

Recently, I have been giving up hope on the written word. On communicating at all, really. I used to store so much on my communication abilities, of being able to explain anything, to persuade any view point, to talk to any person, that I naively thought only time would heal all wounds.

This isn’t really a blog to say that I’ve completely returned to the land of optimism. No, not when so many people pervert language and meaning. This is more of a check in blog, a blog to say that I’m still here, still having a good life, even if I don’t communicate as much.

My wife is the most important person in my life. She, more than anyone else, has taught me the importance of the quiet moment — the moments we share without talking, without interacting, sharing the same space, the same activity, the same energy.

Inside of this quietness, I’ve actually found a little bit more understand. I’ve found out that I’m an arrogant, pig-head asshole, but I’m working to change that. Maybe that’s why I haven’t written lately. The internet, more so than a regular journal, captures all of my indolence and arrogance. My post from over a year ago strike me as childish: the rants of a person I remember, but maybe not so well anymore. No so eagerly do I fight for causes. Not so blindly do I stick to viewpoints. I still have them, but I’m more likely to ridicule them than push them on others.

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Recently, the band has been doing some really incredible stuff. My impatience makes me think I’m running in place, when those around me are amazed at how fast it is going. In my own personal mythology, I was supposed to have been famous by 18, to have been dead by 26. At the age of 26 now, I am famous to my friends and family and that’s good enough. What I realized that I actually wanted, was to entertain. That’s what all the push for fame was about, to ensure a crowd every time I ascend the stage.

I claim that I want to pay rent by playing music, or writing, or whatever, but that’s because the stresses and dangers of the road, the starvation of the artist, the cravings for the spotlight, the breaking of my humility, the moment of illumination in the crowd’s collective face as we finally recognize the humanity in each other.

Walking Corpse Syndrome, the band I’m currently in, is turning a corner. We are having our CD release party this Sat. One in Deer Lodge and one in Missoula. I’ve contacted the papers and think that they might be doing a story on the band. More than anything, without even knowing what they’ll write, I feel gratitude. Metal is definitely a hard sell, and for them to return my pesterings, well, I feel very very grateful.

I’m no longer that kid that expected fame to be handed to me on a platter. I’m grateful for that, too. He was sort of a puke.

Urban Blight

On West Broadway, an old building is about to be demolished. Originally it housed the Missoula City Water Works, or something like that. Covered in ivy and spray paint, the windows broken out, this building will be replaced by a Safeway or St. Patricks. Or perhaps it escaped its death sentence and I haven’t heard about it yet. Regardless, the sheds by it have been taken down. Even the parking lot across the street has vomited great chunks of asphalt.

I originally had a dream to buy that building. I would turn the offices into dorm rooms, and the large garage into a gallary/concert hall. Downstairs would be rented practice spaces. We’d have a communal kitchen, communal bathrooms, communal everything really. Anything to keep rent cheap and make it easier for the progressive art community to thrive in this gentrified city.

A lot of metal/progressive musicians in this town harbor dreams of some sort of concert venue. Some all ages place where the owner actually makes their money from the crowd and not the band. None of this band having to pay for security or sound or alcohol deposits. Just a place where the people can come and rock out without fear of retribution. I’ve only been to a few such clubs in my life.

It’s not that I mind progress that much. I love watching new construction. I adore skyscrapers and am thrilled with the tall buildings going up over town. When a city becomes dense enough, the added cost of driving can encourage more people to use public transportation. I personally live close enough to work to walk, but I would enjoy being able to take a bus when and where I want. Unfortunately, our buses don’t really run the times that I need them the most (i.e. at night and on the weekends).

I do mind progress when it happens to me. Recently our apartment building was sold. We were corralled into a new lease before notified that we will suffer construction all winter. They’re not really fixing anything, just added that colored metal siding to make the building look good. What slumlord would buy a building just to make it look more better on the outside? You would want a return on your investment, not just a continuation of the status quo.

My building, I realized, is being converted into condos. The whole city is being converted into condos. And in this rush to make money, these scum suckers are buying up most of Missoula and converting our apartments into condos. Why would anybody rent when they can buy? I’ll tell you why: because right now, buying costs way more than renting. Yes, I realize that’s the reason you’re converting my apartment into a condo, but I hope to Invisible Deity that this town explodes with condos and then suffers such a horrible slump that all these assholes lose their money. Not only lose their money, but lose their homes, cars, and all else and are forced to find a place to live in this overpriced market.

A city needs some kind of Urban Blight, or at least some section of town where the refuse can live. The North and West side are all but gentrified now. East Missoula has had a building boom. Even the Roosevelt area is getting fancy new housing. What’s the point of increasing the value of this property if it forces out the bottom tier from the city? And honestly where are we going to go? Further and further outside of the city, where the cost of gas will defray any savings in rent.

So, my generation is the one pushing to live closer to the city center. My reasons include being able to walk to work. Originally, it included the cheaper rent, but not so much anymore.

One of the workers, when asked by my wife, admitted that our apartments are being made into condos. This was after they cut down all the trees. I don’t know if I want to demand to be let out of the lease, to call fraud so that I can look for another place to live (some place where Lambros is not my slumlord), but I don’t think that I want to. I honestly just want to set up house someplace that I can call my own. Eventually it will be someplace where I can sound proof a room and have band practice. But that day is a long way off.

Mr. Smith Goes to Billings

My wife and I just went to Billings to visit my family, in particular my brother who was also in town. It was the first time in a couple of years that the whole famn damily was gathered in one place and it went off fairly smooth imho.

Though I won’t get much into detail about the trip, especially family specifics since I don’t like to publish all my secrets for free, I did want to share some random thoughts about the trip.

#1) Billings is getting spruced up. I remember growing up on Russell Street two blocks off of Broadwater Ave. The streets surrounding our house were decrepit at best. Pot holes plagued the streets, but that never seemed to stop my brother from driving full bore at angles to miss the worst of the damage.

The streets seem to be a lot better in the city. Maybe I came at the right time of the year, but it suddenly struck me how pleasant it is to drive in Billings (especially when you know how to get around). People’s yards look nice. Almost too nice. I wonder how many Billingites are actually concerned about the possible ecological damage that those lush lawns pose. In Western Montana, we’re looking at an aquifer that might be drained within my lifetime. Though, it is nice to have some shade in that blistering sun. Coming back to Missoula was a shock. Partly because it was rainy, and partly because we barely noticed it was rainy.

#2) Billings is still growing at a clip. Yet, it is still affordable. Sort of. Sure, it has the half a million and million dollar houses, but my cousins managed to buy a house for less than a hundo-thousand! That category does not exist in Missoula. It doesn’t matter what part of town you live in, how bad the house is. Nothing. Those houses do not exist over here.

#3) Eastern Montana thunderstorms are still cool. Our last full day in Billings ended with a barbeque. Rain threatened the entire day. I would go stand outside to watch the impending clouds, seeing and smelling the rain, knowing that it was on its way. In Missoula, if you can see the storm, you’re about to get wet. With valley living comes the inevitable fact that the weather has no place to go except for the valley. In Billings, though, the storm seemed to split up. Half of the storm went north while the other half went south. We were spared and the barby was a success!

#4) Our “new” car (an 89 Camry) gets great mileage. On the way down we got an average of 33.5 mpg even with some random in town driving whenever we felt like stopping. We got this in part because we actually drove 75 mph instead of my usual 80. Plus we weren’t blasting heat (like during our last trip in the winter) or AC. What a difference that 5 mph made! I tried going a little bit slower when possible, but 334 miles is a long drive to take real slow. Trust me. I know. And not because I remember when the speed limit was 55 on the highway (which I do, though I was too young to drive it), but because I had a van that could only go 55. Eight hours is far too long of a drive between Missoula and Billings.

The thing was, even at 75 we were passing people. It used to be that I went 80 to 85 and lots of people passed me. I saw truckers pass more cars then I’d ever seen before. It made me think that perhaps other people are trying the same tactic: driving slow to save fuel and money.

I read in USA Today that people are actually on average driving less than they were. I’d believe that. We already drive less and only keep a car because it is a bit cheaper than taking taxis or buses to all of our hard to reach places (my band practices outside of Missoula).

I’m still working on ending, so I’ll just abruptly say this: Johnny Cash, 50 Cent, Ludicris, Britney Spear’s bald head.

Pickle-gate

Ok. So far, I hadn’t really formed an opinion to this whole Pickle Barrel thing-a-ma-doober. For those of you who haven’t heard, a Saudi exchange student was refused service at the Pickle Barrel sandwich shop in Missoula because he may or may not have insulted the manager a few weeks prior when both were trying to catch a cab home. The manager may or may not have shouted racial slurs when kicking him out. The student did get some professor to call the police, who didn’t do anything, because apparently nothing illegal happened. ASUM took Pickle Barrel off their Griz Card thingy.

All that, I was fine with. I don’t give an effing eff about the Pickle Barrel’s over-priced mediocre tasting sandwiches. I don’t give a flying eff at the moon about two guys fighting over a taxi. I don’t even give one giant mother effer that the manager was probably drunk off his ass at the time and very likely could have made a mistake and that he should have been canned for refusing a customer. I’ve dealt with old nemesis at my current job with professional respect. It’s what I do.

One side has maintained that racism was a factor. The other side does not. I wasn’t affected that much by it.

What finally got my goat about, was people’s support of the Pickle Barrel. The mere hint of “racism” against an Arab was enough to send droves of people to support their brethren at the Pickle Barrel. As the letters to the editor in the Missoulian showed, Allen and Evelyn Holbrook state that “It is also encouraging to know there are still ‘thinking’ and reasonable people in this world, who do not approve of the knee-jerking political correctness which we are forced to encounter daily.”

“Knee-jerking political correctness” means exactly what? To go back to the good ol’ days when all the darkies knew their place and dependence on foreign oil didn’t empower the Middle Easterners? The Holbrooks are from Potomac are going to make it a point to “make a commitment to make the inconvenient drive across Missoula to eat at the Pickle Barrel” thereby ensuring to use more gas and send more profit to the Middle East so they can afford to send more students over here. I may be wrong with my analysis in that regard, but I may not care either.

I guess it just sickens me to see Montanans tripping over themselves to support a business that may or may not condone racism. For my part, I’m not boycotting Pickle Barrel because I never ate their gimicky sandwiches in the first place. It takes more than a pickle to pull me through the door.

Political Labels Part III

The notes that I took directly underneath the “pinnacle versus progress” had a little diagram. Bear with me while I try to explain it. I wrote four words: Liberal, Republican, Conservative, and Democrat. Connecting the words in a circle were four arrows. In the big empty space in the middle, I wrote Meaning.

The lecturer had started out his talk with an example of advertising in politics. Rather than advertising just now creeping into politics, that was always the purpose of advertising. The father of modern advertising was Sigmund Freud’s nephew. Now, I don’t believe in nepotism or even hereditary gifts (you know, that somehow the nephew was born with all of Freud’s knowledge), but the point made was that the nephew very well knew of his uncle’s legacy. The nephew (didn’t grab his name, too lazy to google) made no bones about using advertising for political purposes. His book on the subject was allegedly titled “Propaganda.” That was before the word got such a negative connotation. Anyway, this was in the early twenties.

What I’ve noticed since that time, is that politcal movements are increasingly advertising oriented. One of the main concepts of advertising, as I understand it, is to sell something to someone that they don’t really need. The most effective way to do this is through branding. Advertising spends billions of dollars getting us to associate certain brands with certain experiences. Likewise, in politics, advertising brands politicians (and oh how I sometimes wish it was with a cattle brand) as representing this or that. In Montana, politicians always represent Montana values, while never really explaining what those values are. We saw branding in the last senate election when Jon Tester was shown holding a hunting rifle on his ranch when he apparently had not had a hunting permit for a number of years. However, a good advertising campaign (campaign — such a war-like word except the war is for your brand loyalty and association) will convince us, usually psychological techniques that anything can represent anything else.

Now, let’s take a little side trip. I’ve recently become interested in tribalism. No, not those tattoos or even Native Americans, but humans tendency to form little tribes, clans, or BFFs. We congregate with our sports teams, represent our local city or state, or defend someone’s musical selection as long as it matches our own. Tribalism, I believe, held an important key to Homo Sapien Sapien’s survival into the modern era. Humans want to engage in tight-knit groups. It’s only since the French Revolution that we’ve really stepped up nationalism. Before then, we didn’t really identify with a such a huge political entity as an entire country. So, it sort of makes no sense to only have two political parties represent a country that about as large than all of Europe.

Though, as many in the blogosphere know, we don’t have two politcal parties. I would argue that we actually have sort of a paradox. We have both numerous political parties and only one political party.

Numerous political parties: Each region has its own interpretation of the main political party. That’s how we can have a Democratic Governor in Montana and a Republican Governor in Massachusetts. Each region dictates its own interpretation of the political party.

One political party: Taking a far enough step back, you see both political parties saying essentially the same things while only changing the labels. Plus they flip-flop whenever political advantage might be had. Many of the same corporations are the top donors to both parties. Both parties are run from the top down with political consultants running from party to party, paycheck to paycheck, indifferent to any classical merit of the party.

That’s what I think my diagram was portraying: the one party system that seems to dance around meaning. The advertisers have gotten so good at building political brands that for a large swath of Americans, it doesn’t matter what their candidate actually does or says. A recent study showed that many ardent Bush supporters believed that Bush approved and was implementing the Kyoto Accord. Both political parties flip-flop their traditional stance every few years or even every few months.

But with humans tendency and needfor tribes, how does this actually translate for us? We pick a side and then we fight the other person. We subscribe to our media outlets. We support each other in branding the “enemy.” We believe that “God” or “Reason” or “Over-arching philosophical system” is on our side and the enemy is crazy, stupid, or heretical. We get caught up in this race, this dance to catch the enemy’s tail that we don’t even notice that a giant void opened in the middle, the void of “meaning.” (“Meaning” meaning actually agreeing that certain words mean certain things or that things should get done that help us rather than harm us.)

I don’t know how true this trilogy of tripe actually is, but it sort of makes sense to me. With all this partison bickering us constituents engage in, both politcal parties are accepting huge checks from most of the same corporations. And while the public continues to get this shaft in regards to education, transportation, prisons, health care, and trade, Corporations get NAFTA and a nice big war.

Population and GO GRIZ!!!

So I read in the Missoulian today that the Griz semi-final game is sold out. I only hope they have room at the laundry mat so I can still watch all the action on ESPN2. The article states that all 23,400 seats were sold.

To put this number in prospective, I pulled up the population figures of Missoula and Missoula county. Missoula has about 63,000 people while Missoula County now tops 100,000. This is a HUGE population swell that provides an intense presence at the games.

But I’m surprised that I haven’t heard anything else about Missoula County finally popping over 100,000. This is an important milestone in any urban area (al beit smaller than the city hitting 100,000).