Jack Kerouac died in Florida. Most poets do not know that. Jim Morrison was born in Florida. Most poets do not know that. Their deaths were two years apart. I was in a Navy brig in Florida. I wasn’t thinking about Jack or Jim. But imagine Jack listening to Jim and Jim reading Jack. Then again three months after Kurt Loder announced Kurt Cobain blew his head off, I did my best impersonation of Jim in Florida when I exposed myself during the full body cavity search.
“Bend over and spread your cheeks wide.” Marines can be so demanding.
For my troubles: a loaf of bread for three days. I shared my ration with ants. You betcha, a trail of ants emerged from an ant-hole in the wall and since I was not allowed to sit on my bed during the day, nor nap, I entertained an army. It was The Penal Colony meets The Metamorphosis. If only I was delivered in the manner of The Last Detail but the two uncles were not amused. I’m sure we could have found some happy hookers in Mobile.
But I wasn’t allowed those pleasant memories. Instead, who allowed the prisoner at the end of the corridor to have his loud Sunday Tele-Evangelism? Self-inflicted torture is the shy sphincter. With close-circuit camera filming, I couldn’t give a shit for the stainless steel commode. I was allowed an hour respite in the library and of course I took it. Marched out to the courtyard and into a separate bungalow. Pensacola was dreary.
During a game of slow chess at Java—and I say slow because I usually play clock—Keely Hyslop—did she know we were next door to Syd’s [Barrett] ex-Masonic Temple or that members of Testament used to get their coffee here—questioned whether I have any ethical problems joining the war on terror. Not really. Collateral Damage is always problematic. The conduct of the war in its first eight years was shortsighted, and a problem. Any armchair quarterback was qualified to be Commander-in-Chief, that’s a problem when the White House has too many generals and not enough direction. Sending apoliticized, ahistorical, culturally insensitive, soldiers to clean-up decades of renegade Cold War Foreign Policy is counter to promoting Democracy abroad, a problem of recruiting and training. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. The cliché: politicians have blood on their hands. They don’t seem to have a problem with it, that’s a problem. However, promoting Democracy abroad where it fails to thrive requires an OCCUPATION similarly committed to Germany and Japan, a problem of logistics and finance. Oh—fifty years? Marriages don’t even last a year, a problem of fidelity. Alexander the Great promoted political marriages between the Greeks and the locals of the occupied territories. Dubya—you still have the opportunity to marry off your daughters to the Taliban. Obama’s are too young—or are they? Problem solved. But marrying Christians and Muslims. WTF? Yes guess who is coming to dinner.
I think she wanted to ask if I would have a problem killing people. She didn’t ask. So I didn’t answer.
This is the best time to confess a high school crush. Z was Afghani. Now you know. I think she joined the military to pay her way through med school.
But seriously, returning to Keely Hyslop’s question: I thought how fine the line between soldier and poet, especially in this day. Among the many similarities, the falsification of street cred: the flashed tattoo; earned how? Modern primitives—step to the side, and there you have it soldiers, poets, hipsters, sub-culturalists. We can win this war! But it’s such a long road to victory. Load up the music and let’s roll. Um, can I borrow your IPOD?
In the middle of the month, at the tail end of Oracle’s occupation of San Francisco, Alan Ralph received an insider’s camera phone photograph and caption of the staid audience at its annual Convention concert: “Treasure Island, open bar & buffet, Aerosmith, Robert Daltrey… a couple thousand sober dudes from India, a couple thousand sober World of Warcraft pedos… and NO one having fun! Fuck you corporate America, more real music fans have to sneak into shit like this.”
I admit the remark “more real music fans” is disarming. I have yet to find that measure. That measure is not sleeved either. More disarming is the threat to King of the Hill. Can you really talk shop without a beer in your hand? Or, Steven Tyler rallying Larry Ellison’s troops? Aerosmith should stick to Bruce Willis snuff-film soundtracks for self-promotion. The Sub-Continent is unimpressed. Read the billion Tweets. But, is Larry Ellison more real because he can buy whomever he wants to adorn the stage?
More power to him. Wouldn’t you jump into L.E.‘s pocket when given the chance? Or the money? I would. More power to anyone grabbing the attention of the CEO. L.E. lets talk before the Apocalypse. With your clout you can end this war, or hand out some jobs to those who need them. Yes. Yes. You’re scaling back, but do you have to hand out the pink slips too? Even part-time is self-esteem.
I work seven gigs towards good karma. Bouncing at the Fillmore indulges my musical sensibilities. No need to sneak in. No need for a ticket. I choose my shows, and I am given them according to staffing requirements. I earn complimentary tickets on my days off and I bring my son with me. He’s a real fan, and does not need tattoos to prove it.
How is getting paid to go to a rock show good karma?
1. My son gets a musical education. A natural born drummer. Are my hopes resting on his future answering to media moguls?
2. The job settles me. Rapid-fire drums. Staccato chords. Explosive lyrics. Think Metallica’s “One.” And if there’s a barricade and a pit, then it’s gravy overflowing. Kirk Hammett cresting the stage, a psychopomp conducting the melee. Refereeing rough play requires physical interaction. I get bumped but it is part of the job. There is an intimacy.
Reminds me of December 2004, during Static-X’s set, it took 5 guys (included 3 Vets) to drag out a young and zealous over-250 pound Army enlistee—for headhunting in the pit. I had him by one arm. He had me by the hair. It was comical and serious. The enlistee’s father was helpless; couldn’t control his son’s rampage. No one knew what the boy tapped. Catharsis? But, that’s therapy found in the pit. Mutual body checks. Hard landings on your ass or on your face. Trampled, steel-toe to sternum. But going after young non-combatants when you’re a lethal weapon is outright criminal—no matter the consensus. When staff throws out a patron for violence, it is because the organizing principle, the harmony, was disregarded.
Hit, but not so hard as to disable or kill. Plus, there’s the fucking incident report to write.
Kudos to Ogre: no tattoos. He was clean. Carried off to jail. Didn’t resist the black and blue.
3. Music is an organizing principle. When I need a second opinion, music shuffles the cards, speaks to me in rhythms, in bass. Music helps deprogram the day’s information. Stand before a subwoofer, and let the grime, lies, missed opportunities wash away. Resets the architecture. Eases the next day.
WHICH leads to when I need a third opinion, when the second is not enough, and worse, I have island fever, and the long road calls for marching orders: Music and Wheels, or the embodiment of any present-day Futurist Manifesto meets theory of anti-oedipal nomadism. [Gladly, there wasn’t a dirge between Pascagoula and Pensacola. Just eerie silence, the drone of a white pickup truck.]
In other words: if you need a case of 100 CDs just to be comfortable then get out of the car whether it is a Jetta or a Humvee. I am the type of person who will play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack over and over again just to count how many replays it takes to reach the East Coast. I have done it before, and I wasn’t tired of Patrick Swayze afterward.
Warning: my Tempo gets AM only—Sports and Evangelism. Tape deck. No CD player, no MP3. Maybe one or two cassettes. I like it that way. It’s simple. It’s mantric.
So, forty years ago Jack died; reason why I am listening to a lot of Ten Thousand Maniacs. Natalie Merchant is on top of my list of musicians to see in concert. Jack was a Navy Veteran. Most poets do not know that. Would he have gotten along with Carl Sandburg? I don’t even know if they ever met. Would like to know. What sort of stories would they have shared at the VFW? How would they debate Truman’s Doctrine? Carl was dead two years ahead of Jack.
“Jack and Jim” happen when I think of distances. When you’re from Alameda, the island off the coast of Oakland, planning a cross-country road trip is like paying homage to both men. Jack being the measure of spontaneity and Jim because you want “Riders on the Storm” playing as you cross the bridge, or anywhere on the highway. Most poets don’t know that Jim went to Alameda High School—because he was a Navy brat, studying Nietzsche, most likely in the safety of the base library. Come to think of it, I worked for a chef at the Courtyard Café who had been considered for the role that was eventually handed to Val Kilmer. The chef was more Daniel Day Lewis “Hawkeye” than Lizard King.
Seven years after Jack died, or five years after Jim died, the Steve Miller Band presented a song fit for the road trip, “Fly Like an Eagle.” My genealogical meandering unfolds.
The Steve Miller Band playing the Fillmore on March 24, 2008, a month after I became a Ghostly Father, spurred this ideal to build on the abecedarian, or alphabet poem. “A” begins the first line. “B” the next. Then “C” and so on to “Z.” ABC books are basically abecedarians. Building abecedarians, as early with alphabet blocks is a reason why my five-year old son should be in the third grade, why he is on the fast track to becoming a zookeeper.
A-B-C-to-Z provides refuge. Again, it’s mantric in the way you would soothe an infant to sleep. Ethical Problem, meet my mantra. Problem solved.
After pre-school, on the following “Daddy Wednesday,” I find “Fly like an Eagle” on Pandora Internet radio and play Steve Miller to my son.
Our lives have not been the same since. Or became more of the same since.
Whenever we are together we sing a minimum of two abecedarians a day. My son insists. Song happens in the car on the way to school or on the way home. Song happens while he’s riding on my shoulders and we are going to the store. Who needs the car stereo or a Walkman or IPod when I have my son who wants to sing a Silly Animal Song?
On the road to victory, we are either a 64GB IPOD away or one song looping.
My son and I will have Steve Miller. Life can be that simple. I share the following exchange with you so that I am not the only one who can sing with him. Just remember no two silly animal abecedarians are the same. The animals change but the song remains a frame. Jack and Jim would be proud.
Taeo: A.
Daddy: Acrobatic Alligator
T: What does it do?
D: It somersaults in the air.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to somersault in the air like an Acrobatic Alligator. I am going to somersault in the air like an Acrobatic Alligator. I am going to summersault in the air like an Acrobatic Alligator. I am going to summersault through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Summersault-Summersault.
T: Summersault-Summersault.
D: Summersault.
T: Summersault.
T: B next.
D: Buckaroo Banzai Bumble Bee.
T: What does it do?
D: It pollinates pretzels.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to pollinate pretzels like a Buckaroo Banzai Bumble Bee. I am going to pollinate pretzels like a Buckaroo Banzai Bumble Bee. I am going to pollinate pretzels like a Buckaroo Banzai Bumble Bee. I am going to pollinate through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Pollinate-Pollinate.
T: Pollinate-Pollinate.
D: Pollinate.
T. Pollinate.
T. C next.
D: Cheezy Cheezepuff Caterpillar.
T: What does it do?
D: It eats only Gouda before it spins a cocoon.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to eat Gouda like a Cheezy Cheezepuff Caterpillar. I am going to eat Gouda like a Cheezy Cheezepuff Caterpillar. I am going to eat Gouda like a Cheezy Cheezepuff Caterpillar. I am going to eat Gouda through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Eat Gouda-Eat Gouda.
T: Eat Gouda-Eat Gouda.
D: Eat Gouda.
T. Eat Gouda.
T: D next.
D: Dreamy Duck-billed Dog.
T: What does it do?
D: It quacks in its sleep.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to quack in my sleep like a Dreamy Duck-billed Dog. I am going to quack in my sleep like a Dreamy Duck-billed Dog. I am going to quack in my sleep like a Dreamy Duck-billed Dog. I am going to quack through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Quack-Quack-Quack.
T: Quack-Quack-Quack.
D: Quack.
T: Quack.
T: E next.
D: Electric Elephant Eagle.
T: What does it do?
D: It flies with its battery-operated trunk; like a helicopter.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to fly like an Electric Elephant Eagle. I am going to fly like an Electric Elephant Eagle. I am going to fly like an Electric Elephant Eagle. I am going to fly through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Fly-Fly-Fly.
T: Fly-Fly-Fly.
D: Fly.
T: Fly.
T: F next.
D: Foggy Figure Skating Fennec.
T: What does it do?
D: It double twists over ice.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to double twist over ice like a Foggy Figure Skating Fennec. I am going to double twist over ice like a Foggy Figure Skating Fennec. I am going to double twist over ice like a Foggy Figure Skating Fennec. I am going to double twist through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Double twist-Double twist.
T: Double twist-Double twist.
D: Double twist.
T: Double twist.
T: G next.
D: Giddy Goober Grizzly.
T: What does it do?
D: A goober is another word for peanut. So the Grizzly laughs when he eats peanuts.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to laugh like a Giddy Goober Grizzly. I am going to laugh like a Giddy Goober Grizzly. I am going to laugh like a Giddy Goober Grizzly. I am going to laugh through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Laugh-Laugh-Laugh.
T: Laugh-Laugh-Laugh.
D: Laugh.
T: Laugh.
T: H next.
D: Hula Dancing Hippopotamus.
T: What does it do?
D: It shakes its hips.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to shake my hips like a Hula Dancing Hippopotamus. I am going to shake my hips like a Hula Dancing Hippopotamus. I am going to shake my hips like a Hula Dancing Hippopotamus. I am going to shake my hips through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Shake-Shake-Shake.
T: Shake-Shake-Shake.
D: Shake.
T: Shake.
T: I next.
D: Itchy Iguana.
T: What does it do?
D: It scratches his head.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to scratch my head like an Itchy Iguana. I am going to scratch my head like an Itchy Iguana. I am going to scratch my head like an Itchy Iguana. I am going to scratch my head through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Scratch-Scratch-Scratch.
T: Scratch-Scratch-Scratch.
D: Scratch.
T: Scratch.
T: J next.
D: A Jumping Jack Jaguar.
T: What does it do?
D: It bounces around.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to bounce around like a Jumping Jack Jaguar. I am going to bounce around like a Jumping Jack Jaguar. I am going to bounce around like a Jumping Jack Jaguar. I am going to bounce through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Bounce-Bounce-Bounce.
T: Bounce-Bounce-Bounce.
D: Bounce. T: Bounce.
T: K next.
D: Kicking Kangaroo.
T: What does it do?
D: It dribbles soccer balls.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to dribble a soccer ball like a Kicking Kangaroo. I am going to dribble a soccer ball like a Kicking Kangaroo. I am going to dribble a soccer ball like a Kicking Kangaroo. I am going to dribble a soccer ball through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Dribble-Dribble.
T: Dribble-Dribble.
D: Dribble.
T: Dribble.
T: L next.
D: Loony Lion.
T: What does it do?
D: It grunts at knock-knock jokes.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to grunt at knock-knock jokes like a Loony Lion. I am going to grunt at knock-knock jokes like a Loony Lion. I am going to grunt at knock-knock jokes like a Loony Lion. I am going to grunt through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Grunt. Grunt. Grunt.
T: Grunt. Grunt. Grunt.
D: Grunt.
T: Grunt.
T: M next.
D: Mighty Morphine Meerkat.
T: What does it do?
D: It snores desert earthquakes.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to snore desert earthquakes like a Mighty Morphine Meerkat. I am going to snore desert earthquakes like a Mighty Morphine Meerkat. I am going to snore desert earthquakes like a Mighty Morphine Meerkat. I am going to snore through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Snore. Snore. Snore.
T: Snore. Snore. Snore.
D: Snore.
T: Snore.
T: N next.
D: Nitrous Needlenose Newt
T: What does it do?
D: It squeaks soap bubbles
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to squeak soap bubbles like a Nitrous Needlenose Newt. I am going to squeak soap bubbles like a Nitrous Needlenose Newt. I am going to squeak soap bubbles like a Nitrous Needlenose Newt. I am going to squeak through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
T: Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
D: Squeak.
T: Squeak.
T: O next.
D: Oulipian Orangutan
T: What does it do?
D: It juggles consonants.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to juggle consonants like an Oulipian Orangutan. I am going to juggle consonants like an Oulipian Orangutan. I am going to juggle consonants like an Oulipian Orangutan. I am going to juggle through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Juggle. Juggle.
T: Juggle. Juggle.
D: Juggle.
T: Juggle.
T: P next.
D: Power Panda Ranger
T: What does it do?
D: It pole vaults bamboo.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to pole vault bamboo like a Power Panda Ranger. I am going to pole vault bamboo like a Power Panda Ranger. I am going to pole vault like a Power Panda Ranger. I am going to pole vault through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Pole vault. Pole vault.
T: Pole vault. Pole vault.
D: Pole vault.
T: Pole vault.
T: Q next.
D: Quizzing Quahog.
T: What does it do?
D: It plays Jeopardy.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to play Jeopardy like a Quizzing Quahog. I am going to play Jeopardy like a Quizzing Quahog. I am going to play Jeopardy like a Quizzing Quahog. I am going to play through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Play Jeopardy. Play Jeopardy.
T: Play Jeopardy. Play Jeopardy.
D: Play Jeopardy.
T: Play Jeopardy.
T: R next.
D: Roadie Raccoon.
T: What does it do?
D: It tunes guitars.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to tune guitars like a Roadie Raccoon. I am going to tune guitars like a Roadie Raccoon. I am going to tune guitars like a Roadie Raccoon. I am going to tune through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Tune. Tune. Tune.
T: Tune. Tune. Tune.
D: Tune.
T: Tune.
T: S next.
D: Skydiving Schnauzer.
T: What does it do?
D: It tumbles aerial acrobatics.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to tumble aerial acrobatics like a Skydiving Schnauzer. I am going to tumble aerial acrobatics like a Skydiving Schnauzer. I am going to tumble aerial acrobatics like a Skydiving Schnauzer. I am going to tumble through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Tumble. Tumble. Tumble.
T: Tumble. Tumble. Tumble.
D: Tumble.
T: Tumble.
T: T next.
D: Tweeting Tilapia
T: What does it do?
D: It snorkels status reports.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to snorkel status reports like a Tweeting Tilapia. I am going to snorkel status reports like a Tweeting Tilapia. I am going to snorkel status reports like a Tweeting
Tilapia. I am going to snorkel through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Snorkel. Snorkel.
T: Snorkel. Snorkel.
D: Snorkel.
T: Snorkel.
T: U next.
D: Ubiquitous Unicorn.
T: What does it do?
D: It teleports between space and time.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to teleport between space and time like a Ubiquitous Unicorn. I am going to teleport between space and time like a Ubiquitous Unicorn. I am going to teleport between space and time like a Ubiquitous Unicorn. I am going to teleport through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Teleport. Teleport.
T: Teleport. Teleport.
D: Teleport.
T: Teleport.
T: V next.
D: Vintage Vixen.
T: What does it do?
D: Barters at second hand stores.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to barter at second hand stores like a Vintage Vixen. I am going to barter at second hand stores like a Vintage Vixen. I am going to barter at second hand stores like a Vintage Vixen. I am going to barter through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Barter. Barter.
T: Barter. Barter.
D: Barter.
T: Barter.
T: W next.
D: Wingnut Wage Wapiti
T: What does it do?
D: Launders funny money.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to launder funny money like a Wingnut Wage Wapiti. I am going to launder funny money like a Wingnut Wage Wapiti. I am going to launder funny money like a Wingnut Wage Wapiti. I am going to launder through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Launder. Launder.
T: Launder. Launder.
D: Launder.
T: Launder.
T: X next.
D: X-treme Xenopus.
T: What does it do?
D: It delivers X-treme Pizza by skateboard.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to deliver X-treme Pizza by skateboard like an X-treme Xenopus. I am going to deliver X-treme Pizza by skateboard like an X-treme Xenopus. I am going to deliver X-treme Pizza by skateboard like an X-treme Xenopus. I am going to deliver through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Deliver. Deliver.
T: Deliver. Deliver.
D: Deliver.
T: Deliver.
T: Y next.
D: Yodeling Yak.
T: What does it do?
D: Yelps recommendations.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to Yelp recommendations like a Yodeling Yak. I am going to Yelp recommendations like a Yodeling Yak. I am going to Yelp recommendations like a Yodeling Yak. I am going to Yelp through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Yelp. Yelp. Yelp.
T: Yelp. Yelp. Yelp.
D: Yelp.
T: Yelp.
T: Z next.
D: Zig Zag Zerg.
T: What does it do?
D: It runs amok.
T: Sing it!
D: I am going to run amok like a Zig Zag Zerg. I am going to run amok like a Zig Zag Zerg. I am going to run amok like a Zig Zag Zerg. I am going to run amok through the…
T: Revolution!
D: Run amok. Run amok.
T: Run amok. Run amok.
D: Run amok.
T: Run amok.
Enjoy. And repeat. Share with a kid.