she doesn’t wanna know me now

Because nothing on my "potential projects" plate is leaping out at me today, here’s some lazy content in the form of the “Eight Things People Don’t Know About Me” meme that’s been making the rounds as of late. This was a more difficult process than I anticipated, given the autobiographical/confessional nature of Armagideon Time.

1. Irises are my favorite type of flower. I like they way the look. I like they way the smell (sweet and vaguely lemony). There used to be random wild patches of them growing in the North Woburn woods when I was a kid.

2. I once shook hands with Larry Storch. I met him outside a theater where he was appearing in a play. My wife and her friend were huge fans of F-Troop, and were pen pals with the man otherwise known as Corporal Randolph Agarn. He seemed like a really nice guy.

3. In my senior year of high school, I won first place in the annual public speaking contest. I recited Colonel Kurtz’s “pile of little arms” speech from Apocalypse Now in a pseudo-Shatnerian manner. The prize for first place was forty dollars.

My grandmother refused to attend because I wouldn’t remove my earrings before going onstage. She insisted that “They’re all going to laugh at you.” Fortunately the night was free of pig’s blood and telekinetic mayhem.

4. I can play the “Ode to Joy” from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony on both the flute and the piano. It is the only piece of music I know how to play, which suggests that there may be a genetic propensity toward enjoying Die Hard hardcoded into my being. Or that my grade school music teacher was a tyrant.

5. I have bits of gravel embedded in both kneecaps. The last day of my freshman year, I had a bad crackup on my brother’s scooter, and shredded my knees something fierce. I spent most of the following week alternating between long soaks in the tub and peroxide rinses. While most of the grit got cleaned out, some deeper fragments remained beneath my skin, and the dark splotches are still visible on my knees to this day.

6. If my family’s genealogical legends are to be believed, John and Priscilla Alden (of the Mayflower and the Plymouth Colony) and General Oliver Otis Howard (one of the founders of Howard University, Commissioner of the Freedman’s Bureau, and the man who fucked over Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce) are among my distant ancestors.

7. I nearly drowned when I was two years old. I got too close to the waves at Plum Island and was sucked in by the undertow. A fisherman heard my cries, and pulled me out of the ocean. As a consequence, I can’t abide submerging my face in water.

8. The first record I owned was a copy of The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band I pulled out of a trash pile. The first record I ever purchased was AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

The Who – The Real Me (from Quadrophenia, 1973) - Really rockin'.

Curtis Mayfield and The Impressions – See the Real Me (from People Get Ready, 1965) - Really soulful.

just to be alive, just a’one more day

Today’s post is about immortality, of a sort.

When my mother was a teenager she dug up a clump of the little blue wildflowers that grew on nearby Bucky’s Hill and transplanted them at the edge on my grandparents’ yard.

My mother is gone, a victim of an untied shoelace and the balance-inhibiting affects of port wine. Bucky’s Hill is gone, a victim of real estate developers who bulldozed the land flat and filled in the neighboring peat bog in order to drop down a rather prison-like condo complex on the site.

The little blue flowers in my grandmother’s yard have thrived and spread over the past four decades. From mid to late April, the side of the yard by the driveway becomes a cerulean carpet of tiny blossoms, a memorial far more suitable for my mother than any inscription on a slab of cold granite could ever be.

When my wife and I moved into the new house in 2004, I brought some of the plants with me, as a sentimental gesture in honor of my mom. I tried planting them in several locations around the yard, but with no success. I assumed that the soil up here on the hill just wasn’t suitable for that type of plant, and gave up trying after the fourth or fifth round of failures.

Yesterday, my wife and I were out on the patio surveying the storm damage and how our perennials were faring in the cold, wet weather, and my wife called for me to check out something in the bed where the lilies and bleeding hearts are planted. It was a solitary little blue flower, peeping up through the mud and the husks of last year’s annuals. I certainly didn’t plant it there, yet there it was – a random wonder in a random universe.

electric eels – Cards and Fleurs (from God Says Fuck You, 1992) – A swell bit of Cleveland proto-punk that begins like a fever dream and ends like a punch in the nose.

Los Abandoned – Como la Flor (from the Los Abandoned EP, 2004) – My wife has a cluster of friends in LA who keep her abreast of the local pop and punk scenes, and occasionally send her CD’s of bands she might enjoy, which is where I first came across Los Abandoned’s excellent brand of bilingual punk pop.

Here’s the video for their equally outstanding “Van Nuys Es Very Nice”:



100 Flowers – 100 Flowers (from 100 Years of Pulchritude, 1990) – Originally LA punk pranksters The Urinals, following a Maoist-inspired name change and a switch to an art punk sound reminiscent of Wire, The Fall, and/or The Minutemen.