Lately I have been posting deliberately incendiary things regarding politics. No, still not at the level of Beth, she of Nutwood Junction fame, but unlike the previous presidential election, the contrast not only between the principles, but the GOP’s hold on reality, has really struck the “drop the gloves” chord in me. So I have been deliberately antagonistic because I want to challenge particular people who are (were) receiving my feed. But because profanity is not a part of my conversation, I have used asterisks where appropriate both on my page and in my journal.
SO IF YOU ARE NOT GOING TO SPELL IT OUT, THEN WHY USE THE WORDS AT ALL?
Sometimes there are needs to express oneself that such words are the only ones that could be used to possibly convey the full range of emotions (unless you are Christopher Hitchens… thanks again Beth, who got me to change what I thought about that cat!!) that a person feels at that moment or the emotions they are trying to convey. For instance, my telling someone that they can “Eat sh*t and die,” has always been the most incendiary phrase I could use. How a person responds to that would usually determine whether or not they were about to get beaten to a pulp, literally as well as figuratively. I don’t think that I could be much angrier than I am at that moment. But what has really spurred me to drop “word bombs” recently was the “Cracked” article that introduced me to Peter Fox and this blog about Cliff Young. The pieces were funny and each time they used a swear word, it seemed to me to really make a positive difference in how I saw the person they were talking about.
“Be worth looking at.” That is the section title of the part of the article that which introduced Peter Fox to me, and like many of the You Tube comments that were left after the video (and the Cracked article), I had to wonder why I had not heard this super awesome song before, but most importantly, I had to really wonder why I had not seen this video before!! While MTV has evolved to a repository for reality-show garbage network designed to detach the youth from their critical thinking apparatus (“16 and Pregnant”? Really??), the only videos that they seem to show appear to come from a list made up by cats and kittens who are my age and THINK that is what younger people think is popular.
Stuff like “Alles Neu” never seems to get any consideration. So the comments left seem to reflect the pathos of what has resulted from the corporatization of media to me, especially where music is concerned. Another inspiration for my near-salty language is the “Bada** of the Week” featuring Cliff Young. An Australian sheep farmer, he one day wandered into the city after deciding that he wanted to be a part of the Westfield Sydney-to-Melbourne ultra marathon. Reading the article and how he showed up among the rail-thin and highly trained athletes and their high-tech shoes and training, dressed in a pair of his work boots and overalls, I could picture how out of place and funny he looked to the press and the other observers as he prepared to race. I think that the article got that right on the nose and especially the actual running of the race. I am not going to explain it, as whatever I say would pale to the source material. But it made me think back to a couple of fights in my boxing career.
First, there was my first amateur fight in Carolina where we drove to South Carolina and I stumbled into a fight with a nationally ranked ca looking to “keep busy” for the bigger tournaments that were on the horizon. Then there was the first time I went to Baltimore for my initial appearance in “Charm City”. Everyone looked at me with disdain at both matches and I don’t know which was more offending to me. In the amateur bout, I wore a pair of shorts and a $5 tank top, and my grungiest, dirtiest boxing shoes. I deliberately wanted to look like I was some “sh*t kicker” who wanted to fight but did not know how to box. The first round was a feeling out process, especially for the South Carolina cat, who I could feel was letting me work and be more busy that he was, as both of us was conducting our own “intelligence in the field”. The second round we both came out ready to work and push our intensity up a few notches. As an amateur boxer I was a sharp defensively as I was a puncher, and I was sliding in and out rather easily, rattling off combinations and popping back outside, relatively unscathed. Or so I thought. I remember on the way back to Greensboro thinking that if the kid was better than me, he had really lured me into a comfort zone. Just as I felt like I was stalking him, with a little bit of overconfidence, HE was also setting up his work station and I was moving in and he BLASTED me with a right hand as I came in. I went down like a felled redwood, but it still was not up there with the kind of concussion that a shot from “the Knockout King” would have had.
(you gotta play this one if only to listen to Joe Tessitore describe what you are watching!!)
And if ANYONE had the kick in their punches to produce something remotely close to the Knockout King, it was me!! I took my time and rose at a count of 7 and stepped away from the referee to steal an extra moment of recovery. The bell rang and then came the third round.
My corner was still calm and while there was more intensity in the instructions, we were able to get it together. I felt that the kid was going to be a little reckless and come at me with the thought of closing the show. That was just what he did and I was able to do a little “Jersey Joe Walcott” side-step and exploded an overhand right that ended the fight.
The fight in Baltimore was my second trip up I-95 to fight someone up in the Metroplex (I mean, really, Baltimore is rightthere next to DC). The cat was local and had a nice following. Typical big, tough, cool crowd guy and I remember all his hip-hop head friends and crowd were lousy with cockiness. It was a 6-round fight but neither of us expected it to go the distance. One of the things that made me think that maybe a second drop of acid had found his heart was the number of times I heard, “he thinks he is like Mike Tyson” from his side. It meant that SOMEONE over there thought that I had some “Iron Mike” in me and that I would be across the ring from a boxer that either heard or was himself talking about me in the same frame of reference as “Iron Mike”. To me, that made me think there was something going on with his confidence and I found out, roughing him up and stopping him in the third round.
Reading about Cliff Young and how despite his look, he KNEW something that his competition did not brought those feelings back to me and I liked re-reading the story. And the short stories of other “Bada** of the Week” selection has profanity salted in the articles have ushered in, along with Peter Fox, an addition to my written vocabulary. I still would not sit around laughing and dropping F-bombs, but when I am writing and feeling good, bets are off!!
AND IN CLOSING
For some reason Google will not let me comment on blogs. It is partly my fault as I was fiddling around with my new smart phone and now Google keeps asking me for my phone number when I try to leave a comment. Since my phone has a GPS, I am not yet sure that I want to let them be able to track me any easier than they can just yet… though I may well relent and allow it access. As to why I have my doubts, that is a post of its own!!
One of the things that have kind of surprised me since I have begun blogging is how reserved many of them are. Yeah, I bet there are a number of blogs for the adults but still, I have been waiting to read about someone talking about the more intimate aspects of their lives. Not that I am that much of a voyeur (or am I?) or anything, but no one really writes about that part of them and I find it inconsistent to put out all your personal troubles but not to include any talk about what is going on with their sex lives, particularly those that talk about their ups and downs with relationships and love. I have on occasion, but not really in representative with how often I deal with issues surrounding this area of my life, talked about “the ol’ in-and-out”. After all, a big part of the eventual fail between me and Mookie Dee was inclusive to the problem we had in our bedroom. I was not getting any nookie ( the nookie, the nookie, so SOMEONE ELSE could take that cookie!!). Because of how I would talk about my past, from the “run ‘n shoot” to when I used a more traditional but no less aggressive approach, I figured that once I got to Omaha, that out of deference and respect to Nebraska, that I would not be as willing to share the “blue” areas of my life. Then I met my current girlfriend and for those of you who are witness to my Facebook shares… then you know what I mean. And you have to know that if you know and that SHE knows, then I guess it is pretty obvious what is going on between us. What is not so obvious is how BASHFUL that I feel when I am sharing and trying to come up with something semi-witty to say accompany whatever it is I am posting.
It is strange that I once fretted about someone hooking me up with their single friend because I did not want any of them to feel uncomfortable because they know why she has a glow … well, it is something that my girlfriend enjoys about my Face Book ravings. From the rather turgid “50 Shades…” to Anne Rice’s “Beauty trilogy”, it is pretty true for us that when the lights go down, we both turn into (you can fill in the blank).
So I have decided to include what I am calling “True Life Fiction” to my blogging oeuvre. Inspired by my own actual experiences and discussions, I will post about what goes through my mind when I reflect on my intimate history. Unlike Nebraska, my girlfriend will NEVER see this blog if I could help it. I won’t tell her that I blog and or even drop obtuse references to anything I posted about… well, you WILL see and who knows, maybe I will have found my “mark” in the literary world! Hey, it’s like Sports Center… it could happen so you had better watch!! If anything, I would welcome comments on how the stories are constructed, the direction of plot and accessibility of my tales.
Anywho, school starts on Tuesday… my first full day of work on Wednesday… and my birth day next Saturday… right now, life is good and I would not have it any other way!!
