Friday, October 24


that's what craft foam looks like before the primer and the paint.
i get so disappointed in the meantimes,
especially when it's cold and wet and rainy,
and there's no time or available atmosphere to correct the raw state
of a new makey thing.
i'm just sayin'-
clear plastic and green fluff is not an expert look.
trust me.
oh, okay.
then maybe you'll trust your own eyes:
before you just assume i'm totally F*ing up though,
the details are what bring it all together.
for a basic framework,
the shape is there.
the bulk is burly and barbaric.
it's just that the extras and add-ons are gonna activate the sh!t out of it
once it has the right combination of bells and whistles..
but, right now?
it looks kinda lame-ish.
i know it does.
then again,
i also know what i'm making, so i can envision the end result.
and it's a good thing i can, too.
otherwise, i'll tell you what-
i'd maybe think i was bringing the weak sauce up in here.
and that's not cool.
not one little tiny bit.
more projects.
more more more more more of everything.
except time.
that's running way short.
i'm glad i've got what i've got,
and i'm sure i'll get as much done as i possibly can.
it's not like i'm trick-or-treatin',
or costume partyin',
or even doing anything besides workin'.
the thing of it is,
i'm reppin' the spirit and memory of dressed-up mess-ups
for all the grown-A* woodsly goodfellows everywhere.
i like it.
you do too.
i've been busy everywhere but at work.
driving and shopping and baking and making messes and cleaning up.
but work has been a total butthole.
hit-or-miss fluctuations,
and terrible ideas all up in my face on the occasions there are even any ideas at all.
i've got a full day today,
but yesterday was full of crap.
and NO tattoos.
plenty of craft-makin' and hot gluin',
and lots of second-thoughts and deconstruction.
but, no movie checks,
and that's no joke.
it's dark, and dreary, and dreadful,
and i'm unimpressed to say the least.
check the discount-countenance-type teleport:
drivin' around, thinkin' about al the work i'm gonna do as soon as i get home,
and all the sleep i'm gonna skip while i doo-doo that tedious sh!t.
i'm on my grind, and i'm doing all of it as loud, as fresh, and as hard as i can.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress worthy warrior rulebook says-
stay ugly, stay dope.
...and you know i love house rules.
i'm not sure what the point is,
other than occupation of my creative faculties.
i'm not sure at all about that.
i'm not having fun.
i'm just having a time of it.
spanning time with the self-imposed pressure to always do more.
there are worse things, though, for certain.
i'm running short on time, but i'm not OUT of time.
a better fate than that is every single minute of all the rest of it.
it's all really happening,
and the why will resolve itself if i just keep going.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....


so much cake.
that's how much cake i want.
that's the stuff, neighbors.
cake after cake after cake.
i'm just sayin'-
cake is expert.
chocolate is pretty damned good too.
actually, it's really really good.
that gets it going every time.
and when i start thinking about cake AND chocolate.....
you know how it's gonna go.
active participation and preheated ovens, y'all.
that's the ticket to treat paradise.
check the density-deluxe-type teleport:
vegan white chocolate fudge in a circle.
a.k.a. the big action.
what that means in real life is-
i left out the baking powder!
heavy-duty pound-cake consistency results,
especially when activating tapioca to make with that anti-dryness-style
pudding-in-the-mix business.
burly brick circle jauns,
in fudgy white chocolate splendor
(i know it's not actually chocolate. take it easy.)
it tastes good, too.
it tastes 100% not ruined for not having the fluff, anyway.
add that cocoa marshmallow-swirl cream-chee'-laced frosting,
and you've got ultimate decadence and shameless self-indulgence to eleven.
what do you even do after that?
oh, right....
dark chocolate drizzle lattice wizardry.
too much is the right amount.
no joke.
at least two kinds of chocolate,
and one pretend chocolate, too.
that sh!t is good for you, and it's good in you.
heck, it might even be good ON you.
no way to know for sure.
what we can say we know, though, for certain,
is that i have some at work, and you're welcome to munch up a slice.
you're welcome, kids.
one week until hallowe'en.
oh yeah!
the best one.
you'd better believe i'm excited for it,
and you'd be wise to recognize that i'm dreading it.
i've got three semi-finished incomplete costumes.
yeah, i know.
but, listen, friends-
i spent so much time on details that the details became their own things.
what can i say?
sometimes the spin-off runs longer than the ensemble.
think frasier to cheers.
sorry young people...
no. wait. F* that.
young people don't read blogs.
i'm still making things.
maybe some of it will become a costume,
maybe some of it will just be how i span my time away from work.
i guess we'll find out in a week;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, October 23


that was quick.
the woodsly goodness is so flippin' different than my birthplace.
i mean it.
like, different planets, almost,
with people so drastically dissimilar as to be a species altogether separate from my own.
the good news?
i don't really socialize with either subset of folks.
not the nutmeg-stately urban-derived ethnically-ambiguous dirties in connecticut,
nor the bearded camouflagians in workboots that predominate the north country.
i have the ones i'm around,
and the rest can F* right off.
the last few days were no exception.
me, and harvest and maple,
and a little tiny bit of my parents, too.
that's all i really needed.
berfday shoppin' after school?
dinner in the city?
cake at home?
that's all that had to happen.
that and also this:
i'm sayin'- rules is rules.
don't be dumb.
emergency tofutti with fall sprankles is a must.
and if i must, i must, and i certainly will.
we had a good time.
there was a lot of driving.
across the northeast, and back again, in a short span of time,
with a whole ton of travel between towns once i got there...
but that's just the way it is.
you know what i did when i got to where i had to be?
i parked out of sight at the high school.
because who knows if i'm embarrassing or not?
what'd be worse than getting picked up at school
by some big loserhole of a parent in front of the rest of the entire student body?
i know what i look like, guys.
and i'd hate to be a source of stress to my kids.
turns out, she doesn't care, because she is not an A*-hole,
and apparently, in her eyes, neither am i.
so i picked her up, and she ruined about thirteen photographs,
until i caught this one without her making a face:
candid profile jauns.
i remember when she was just a cute little baby!
everybody says it, but that's because it's a thing.
tall boots and high socks and flowing hair is a helluva lot different
than onesies and poopie diapers, so the passage of time is really severe.
what a beauty, tho.
they both are good-lookin', hard-workin', sweethearts, and that's no joke.
i don't know what she's showing me.
i was taking pictures, man.
the thing is, they're big. ...for small people at least.
and they're really becoming actual people.
they're not too sh!ttty yet.
and we had a hallowe'en moment, too.
because i handed out all the ingredients for their costumes,
an they went bananas,
and everybody had big fun.
connecticut was a blur of food and roads and family togetherness.
i can't tell you about the relief i'm feelin' at how easy it all went.
the times have changed.
the fights are over.
the war is won/lost/forgotten about.
the old grudges are too smudged to read into,
and the new memories are founded on moments of monumentalgratitude and generosity.
this is the way we live now,
and i am grateful for the time i've been given to span with these women.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft.....

Tuesday, October 21


my daughter, harvest, is fourteen today.
years, neighbors.
fourteen years.
in a row.
teenaged for a minute now,
and turning taller and older and everything.
today, tho-
today is the day.
the berfday.
and that means connecticut is where i'm headed.
family togetherness and paternal activation and cake.
there will be cake, too.
it isn't a berfday without berfday cake.
that's a thing.
and of course,
i'll be bringing it with me.
otherwise, i wouldn't get a slice.
vegan baked greats aren't invited to the party, usually,
unless accompanied by an expert.
lucky for me, i don't just know one, i flippin' am one!
i mean, sure, i have to bake it in new hampshire and bring it with me,
but active participation is kind of my thing anyway
(damn. b.y.o.c.      because box mix is for jerks,
and applesauce eludes the egg-dependent instructions-followers)
i'm on that vanilla x14-type sh!t.
check the happy-berfday-harvest-type teleport:
you think i went a little overdramatic with the photo?
well, how about you maybe shuuut up a little bit?
it's dark out and it's raining, and it's an all-white cake,
and that calls for a double light source, and an eagle's-eye view. .
i used a LOT of frosting.
i mean, a LOT.
the cake math on this science treat?
i used 1.5x the frosting for a cake .75 the height of a regular one!
that's double, duders.
because too much is the right amount.
you know that already.
so, there's goobieblops on top of swirls, and blarps on the sides and everything.
if there's still frosting in the pastry bag, you gotta keep squeezing.
rules is rules, after all.
and another 'nother rule for berfday cake?
and since i'm reppin' a double circle of spirit and memory for the crumb,
with a wholeheartedly unholy helping of vanilla in myriad incarnations,
and even a little bit of top secret vegan white chocolate tapioca.....
(the kid likes plain cake, but i don't know if i can ever all-the-way hang out with that.)
i've got my ring of cakey hottness,
and i've got so much frosting in so many bloppy drops,
which means all that was missing to take it to eleven, for fourteen's sake,
was to get the sugarglitter all up on it.
i figured we could all do well with a punch or three of seasonal color-coordinated
site-specific harvest-hued sprankles!
i made it work, neighbors.
my kids are busy.
like, they're so busy.
like, they're SO busy i'm on a lightning-striking viking voyage to connecticut
for a blitzkrieg of berfday family magic fun times,
because they've also got other other stuff to do.
it's berfday cake, after berfday dinner, after berfday shoppin',
and all before seven p.m.,
so homework and studying can get done.
i will most likely see 'em for less time than i'll be carbound on the trip to get there.
and that's just in one direction.
the alternative is to see the for NO hours, and that's no kind of option.
it's cars and crap and traffic and congestion,
a little tiny bit of overlap with the rest of my blood relatives,
and cake,
thank the heavens for cake.
harvest skye ruth.
a little wet pink squawking raisiny naked mole rat.
babies are just such waterlogged little grossies-
but that was the most beautiful thing to me at the time.
that's what i remember about this day, fourteen years ago.
and crying like a F*ing giant diaperbaby my own self.
my firstborn child, my little daughter...
she's practically a person.
it's too soon, but it's also just right.
i mean,
events unfolds the way they're going to,
and time travel only goes in one direction,
and i sure am grateful for the time and direction that i've been given.
it's all really happening all the time,
but that's especially true today.
a big ol' sentimental heartful.
that's it;
never quiet, never soft..... 

Sunday, October 19

pie or cake?

sometimes, a pie just hasn't got the girth, guys.
i mean,
they're generally not the stout bombers i'm craving, anyway.
they've got all the flavors i want.
what do we do when faced with a choice?
we choose the wrench.
and we choose both options if they both have positives to enjoy.
hybridization is nature's way of making things more successful at existing.
knowing that nature wins in the end,
it has to be mad-scientist bakery time in the woodlsy goodness.
doesn't it?
yes. of course it does.
apple pie cake.
that's a thing.
i know it is,
because i made it happen.
check the crumbly-cakey-type-teleport:
knobbly, bumpy, baked blocks of burly self-contained apple magic.
that's what's up.
graham crackers pulverized into flour,
and rolled oats ground up into the same,
apples, peeled and minced, and cooked with maple and cinnamon
and mixed into an extra buttery (creamchee' accented),
soy yogurt smootherized floury nutmeg-infused vanilla-bean activated
batter, and beaten into shape so all the best parts touched each other?
so expert.
and then that cinna-maple creamchee' frosting for your face, too??
in the middle, gluing it all together, because that's what pie is missing.
and on the top, dollop after dollop-
goobiebloppin' a little pretty princess swirl for that extra sweet treat happiness.
all the fall flavors are there,
and all of it is really happening.
where you been?
i mean,
you might wanna pop on by and scoople one up...
because otherwise you're missing out real hard,
and that's no joke.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is all about apples and/or pumpkins,
are you serious?
what do you mean, why?
what are you?
an A*-hole?, maybe because it's october,
and those are the rules.
the seasonal creations are in full swing.
whenever i'm not working or crafting,
i'm baking.
i haven't cooked anything fancy in a minute,
but i've been dominating that oven on the regular.
the thin gs i'm not doing are the things that don't need doing.
that's the way i'm looking at this month.
events unfold along the grid of squares on the calendar,
and this line of blocks is filled with cake and connecticut.
my time is accounted for,
and there will be presents to account for soon enough.
all of this, all the time,
that's what it's all about;
never quiet, never soft.....

too many hats.

i've got an expert leatherette aviator cap,
with scrappy straps and flippy-flaps and crap all over the place;
i've got a daring derby of barbaric burly brown bowler dome dopeness;
i've got that whiz-bang word-up wide-top topper hat, too....
that's real, neighbors.
i got a lot of hats for hallowe'en.
the thing of it is-
they didn't go super well with my sergeant steampepper custom coat.
not even one little teeny tiny bit.....
y'know what that means, don'tcha, duders?
that's riiiiiiight.
i had to have a whole other 'nother snazzy dazzler for my big bald pate.
because too much is always the right amount.
that's for real.
but, with that in mind,
i'm just sayin'-
i figure that if i'm gonna dress like a baron of baller-A* doodietwankles;
or an earl of expertism to eleven;
or even an archduke of activational loud, fresh, hardness,
i can't show up wearing some headgear that doesn't denote
the level of elite rank and pomp and substantial circumstantial site-specific personal style
and all of that sort of selfish self-righteousness my new hottness is is all about.
i can't be all bringin' that weak-sauce to hallowe'en, now, can i?
no way.
so i made myself something a little more appropriate
for an imaginary admiral of my presumed rank and standing.
check the general-gendarme-type teleport:
and that insignia?
yeah, the big gold earring, with stuff on it.
that's what i mean.
a shield(button) and rivets(brads) and crossed axes!?!
that's what's up.
the barbarian outer provinces, guys.
that's where i'm thinking i'm hangin' out.
whatever that means.
at any rate,
that's the skulltop skillset i'm reppin' now.
one side has a ch-ch-chain hangin' off of it:
because that's manly,
even if the four types of ribbons and trims aren't.
the other has a dingle-string tassel dangle:
because old-timey armies liked fancy dazzlers all over the place,
and didn't believe in camouflage.
(as a result, they mostly got shot a lot)
oh, yeah, definitely.
i love putting that overkill to it.
that's my thing.
i don't just do it,
i over do it, and add the fire and explosions to it.
what can i say?
i don't just talk about it,
i be about it, too.
well, originally,
it was a german alpine ski patrol cap from the army surplus shop.
the thing is,
the germans have nice gear,
but throughout history, they're sort of the baddies, y'know?
so lacy crinkles and ribbons are very necessary for goodguyification of the goods.
all day tattblastin' today?
all night craft-attackin' later?
lunch and/or dinner in there somewhere?
i'm super busy,
and i'm super tired,
and i'm super motivated to take as few breaks and pauses as possible.
can i do it all?
probably not.
will i collapse at the close of business on all-saints day?
will i stop with this Q&A conversation soon.
yes, i will, right now;
never quiet, never soft.....

army armor arm.

the gloves i had were the wrong ones.
just wait a minute, and i'll explain-
my daughter isn't quite 13 yet,
and she has very tiny hands.
like, tinier than a size small glove, even.
that means that without her here to wear an example of her specific
appropriately-sized hand-clothes,
i had to improvise.
but, the small gloves were too big.
so how was i spanning my saturday night,
after a loooong day of tattblastin' girls en masse,
complete with entourages of encouragers, well-wishers, naysayers, and pouters?
after enduring that for not nearly enough compensation-
i took my hard-earned gains, and went to the department store.
saturday night is the exact time when the beastliest creatures ooze out
of whatever bog or semi-rotten stump they've been sleeping under,
and talk overloud, in their stained sweatpants, down every aisle, at the slowest pace.
and also,
it's when i buy gloves there.
i had worst time,
and i may have used the guilty-by-associative-property of worth-assessment
to really do a number on my previously adequate self-esteem.
but the good news is that i got the gloves.
yes i did.
and when i got home,
i made a little gauntlet activation for the tiny-handed kid.
check the teleport:
robobotronic magic?
maybe so.
a steampunkish auxiliary artillery arm?
for sure.
what's better than power armor?
get a look at the sides:
i think the rivets are the best part.
or maybe the thumb.
or maybe the pipes.
i'm just excited for her to get it, and get fresh for the best holiday.
oh, yeah,
and the other other side:
that's what i was doing last night.
my big burly barbarian business was with small hands and stretchy fabric.
i s'pose it could've been worse-
i could've had to do what everyone else was doing.
this was definitely better.
it got cold again.
out of nowhere, or really, out of the northwest.
(that's where the winds blow in from 'round these parts).
that means autumny blankets and fleecy sleepy pants,
and an extra cover or two.
that's good for nighttime comfort,
and it's great for climbing into all those comfy-cozies
after all the hot glue has cooled.
i'm on a time constraint,
and i've got acres of activation to engage in before the final bells toll.
i guess sleep isn't invited, and i presume that the nights,
while getting darker, earlier,
and gonna get a whole lot harder and even longer before the deathly hallows
do what they do.
we've got moves to make, kids.
we've got a job to do-
and this is it;
never quiet, never soft.....

Friday, October 17

green-eyed monstrous victoriavision.

more goggles.
for real.
i said i was making another 'nother couple sets.
and i meant it.
i tell true stories.
you already know that.
i guess this time right now, we'll try a few less words,
and get going with more pictures.
that's  the plan...
check the teleport:
green is good.
and a little brown bow, just so you know they're for a lady.
check the details:
cameos and hearts are fancy.
they just do what they do, which is mostly look cool and be shiny-
and sometimes, that's what we need.
isn't it?
yeah. i thought so too...
and how about that trick-or-treatery night-vision activation:
word up.
red is also good.
red and green on hallowe'en is expert.
.....just as long as we agree to no purple.
i mean,
really now, friends,
stop it with that sh!t.
i probably won't win any dad-of-the-year-awards.
i understand that, empirically,
i'm accumulating quantifiably less than enough points for the title.
if my name is in the running for active participant and devoted duder of the day?
i got that sh!t on lock.
me and mine are making time to make magic memories of family togetherness.
we doo-doo that father-daughter-style sh!t.
believe it-
i'll be spanning time with my girls next week,
for the 14th yearly berfday shoppin' spree,
 and cake (obviously), an' that sort of stuff.....
AND for early hallowe'en delivery of all this dopeness.
there will be big fun, and non-stop action for all of us,
the whole trip.
that's what's important, after all is said and done-
making all the moments matter more.
you could have regular times,
but what's the point of that?
just be dope, or F* right off.
that's the thing.
you know the deal,
and you love it;
never quiet, never soft.....

Thursday, October 16

treats don't wait.

driving all over the place;
craft-making into the smallest hours of the night;
working almost single every day;
responsible adulthood is pure butthole.
there's just so much to do,
and there is never a time when there isn't something i've left unfinished
for the next day to start under the pressure of completing yesterday's work.
that's a hard style.
even when it seems like i've barely stopped moving,
and it was dark when i fell asleep, and dark still when i woke up,
which means i probably didn't rest anywhere near enough.....
there's this little voice in my left ear.
why my left?
i dunno.
it's the devil?
i hear it whispering to me.
and i listen up.
what is it saying?
oh, y'know, secret recipes.
and when i'm up at six, with the oven preheated,
and the warm stove melting butterish pats and dissolving three kinds of sugar,
i know that the day will work itself out because it HAS to.
and also,
there will be treats to help it along.
that's IT!
check the october-rust-hued-hottness-type teleport:
pumpkin pecan chocolate chip gingerbread minis?
holy sh!t, kids.
my whole face was filled with all that autumny expert explosive lusciousness.  
all the spices, as usual,
and oven-roasted pecans,
and little tiny cute-as-heck chocolate chipsters,
and pumpkin by the patchful.
baby breads are so cute,
and they totally taste full-size.
no joke.
what about that drizzle, on the diagonal drip-drop tip?
cinnamon and chocolate and vanilla for the victory.
so much flavor,
so dense and deep and delicious and heavy-duty dope.
the morning?
started correctly.
the rest of the day?
powered by cakey nutty activation.
it will all resolve itself, friends....
i love treats.
that's why i make treats.
and that's why i eat treats.
i need treats.
in my kitchen.
in my oven.
in my mouth
in my life.
i pick my spots carefully.
and i fill them with goodness.
that's pretty much my goal.
all the good places, all stuffed full with good.
i've got treats aplenty,
and tons of flour an' that to make even more.
too much is the right amount,
and that means i'm right where i'm supposed to be;
never quiet, never soft..... 


goggles means the same as steampunk to most folks.
i'm pretty sure that's a thing.
at least,
as far as the questions i've gotten so far....
'what about your goggles?' and variations thereof.
if you cursorily know what steampunk is,
then it's very likely you probably just figure it's goggles and a top hat.
i GOT that top hat situation down pat, super solid.
i guess i need those eyecups, kids.
because i'd hate to look like a green and gold sergeant pepper,
or have folks think i'm just doing a poor michael jackson impersonation,
i s'pose i had to activate the qualifier.
rules is rules after all....
making things is pretty dang good for my brain most of the time.
and also,
making a recognizable and obvious attempt at something archetypal
has got to be a sure-fire way to escape having to talk to people
about what my costume is supposed to be.
you already know what the worst part
about having hallowe'en times in the woodsly goodness is-
all these camel-colored corduroy-collared carhartt-coat-clad stoopidheads
who don't dress up, don't hand out candy, and dislike anything creative,
interesting, or different.
up in these mountains, adult dudes in costumes,
who are not walking a five-year-old to their neighbor house for candy
are like virulent gay-ebola.
that means i already have created a due-proof forcefield just by leaving the house.
but, what about al the other other people of this valley?
i'm just sayin'-
nobody knows anything about what's good.
and that's no joke.
and what eats bigger balls than trying to explain to some necktards
just what the F* a steampunk airship stratospheronaut is?
what even ARE all those words?
they're not for them, that's for sure.
fancy craft crap is absolutely not invited to the backwoods mudpits
and the budweiser-and-hockey-mask bonfire sh!t that goes on there.
of course,
neither am i.
the thing of it is, neighbors,
i LOVE dress-up times.
as far as anyone who isn't a hill-person, a trailer-oozer, or an old person,
video games may just save he day.
because video games sometimes have steampunky stuff.
of course,
that pretty much means weird goggles.
i know, i KNOW, I KNOWWW.
i already did it, anyway.
check the teleport:
that's how it's gonna be.
with that ambervision jauns in 'em, too.
get a good look at all the gluing and cutting and strapping an' that:
and the other side:
triple magnifiers.
pretty neat, no?
well, i thought that was cool.
one more?
one last one, for your face:
goggles, y'all.
see how i snuck a little elastic back there?
that's the stuff my big dumb head needs to hold these snugly in place.
that's real.
this set is the first of three planned pairs.
the next ones are for my daughter maple.
those are destined to be some green-eyed fancy dazzlers.
she gets the improved techniques,
because she is presumably an improved version of me, anyway.
and that's it.
orange lenses,
brown and burgundy straps and stuff.
brads. and so much hot glue.
this cheater-version, without stitching or riveting still takes some time.
and i'm running especially low on that these days.
long nights, hard nights, warm nights, really....
i'm spanning time, with difficulty,
as slowly as i can take it,
wile it goes along so damned fast.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

Wednesday, October 15

XV on the fifteenth.

hey guys!
guess what?
today is the day.
like, for real, it's the one.
a big one, even.
today makes it officially fifteen F*ing years since i began tattooing.
that's a thing.
it's been fifteen years since i tattbombed my very first one.
back on on my old friend metal mitch gibbs,
and when i did it, oh MAN....
i did it very poorly, unbelievably slow-paced,
and with nervous trepidation about my dearth of applicable skills.
i doo-doo that terrible learning curve-style sh!t.
fifteen years later,
i'm at least a whole lot faster at it, anyway.
for serious.
fifteen YEARS.
a decade, and then a whole other 'nother other half of a second decade.
when i was fifteen years old,
i couldn't even imagine doing anything for as long as my whole life up until that point.
don't get me wrong, neighbors.
tattooing has been good to me,
like a semi-abusive codependant stockholm syndrome sort of a thing.
i mean it.
it keeps me hooked, even when i hate it.
and sure,  through this career path, like a pathogen pathway,
i get systemic destruction.
a little lower lumbar brokeback white mountain sh!t,
sideways fingers pointing at an awful angle,
and a whole slew of unfortunate alterations to my original packaging....
and that was pretty busted to begin with.
awwwwww, man.
and don't think i'm not grateful.
because i AM.
tattooing and the collateral activation that comes with it affords me all the means
motivation and opportunity to do lots of other stuff.
and yeah, very little of the stuff has to do with tattoo culture,
most of which i actively shun and/or reject.
i do what i do.
and i do tattoos, too.
it's part of a big picture.
a symphony, really,
and tattooing may be the flutes and piccolos.
necessary for all the minky nancypants parts,
but by no means the F*ing tubas.
the rest of my life is the big brass section, and the kettledrums....
in my version of peter and the (were)wolf,
those flutes are still pretty flippin' important.
i have the day off.
there was, for a little moment, the temptation to mark the occasion with a tattoo,
inflicted on myself as a little tribute to the milestone.
upon immediate reconsideration,
i realized the very last place i wanted to be today was in a tattoo studio.
so instead,
my lady and i went downeast,
and tuned up a terrific celebratory lunch.
check the teleport:
man oh man,
i must be getting even older than i thought.
we munched up hours ago,
and i'm STILL feeling disgustingly full.
that's a good thing, though.
it just means i did it right.
fifteen years gone by.
all of it, every moment, every minute;
every town, every state, everywhere and every when;
every terrible ending,
every exciting new beginning....
tattooing has been the hub the rest overlaps and revolves around.
it's all connected,
and all of it is part of the worst true story i've ever heard.
this is my real life,
that's the most comforting and uncomfortable thing;
never quiet, never soft, never enough.....