I just heard this song on the radio - I don't generally go in for main-stream country but once in awhile a real zinger rears its head and this is an absolutely beautiful song. It bought tears to my eyes.
[begin lyrics]
Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting
I'm through, with doubt,
There's nothing left for me to figure out,
I've paid a price,
and i'll keep paying
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
I know you said
Why can't you just get over it,
It turned my whole world around and i kind of like it
I made by bed, and I sleep like a baby,
With no regrets and I don't mind saying,
It's a sad sad story
That a mother will teach her daughter that she ought to hate a perfect stranger.
And how in the world Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over...
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting.
[end lyrics]
I particularly like the direct confrontation of the hypocrits who will preach and teach hatred. This is a wonderful angry song that sums up a lot of emotion in just a few words. Beautiful beautiful beautiful!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Turning the Corner
Insurgent Acne
I woke up on Sunday morning like I usually do. I stumbled out of bed and took a hot shower. I brushed my teeth and shaved my face. As I examined my face in the mirror I noticed that there was a small zit starting to form on my cheek a few inches beneath my right eye. There wasn’t much happening with it yet but it looked suspicious. I decided that it was imperative that I took action before the zit grew and caused more problems in the region.
I decided on the tried and true method of squeezing the zit between my thumbs in order to pop it and drain its accumulating juice. I clenched my teeth and maneuvered my thumbs into position and then pinched the skin surrounding the offending zit in the hopes of driving it to the surface and then annihilating it.
I ran into immediate problems though. It turned out that I had failed to adequately understand just what I was dealing with. The zit was subcutaneous – buried underneath the surface of my face – and as a result my initial efforts were totally ineffective. In fact the pressure I applied to the skin surrounding the zit seemed to cause new damage. Now an area about a half inch in diameter around the zit was irritated – angry and reddened.
I probably should have just left it alone but at this point I felt committed. No stupid zit was going to get the best of me! I thought about my next move and figured that perhaps if I put one thumb in my mouth and the other on the outside of my cheek – on the area of the zit – I could squeeze it from inside and out and therefore smoosh it and cause it to recede.
I attempted this tactic but its futility quickly became apparent. It also resulted in a great deal of pain and now tears were streaming down my face in addition to the redness and irritation. I needed a better strategy.
I decided on a surgical strike. I retrieved a needle from the sewing box and began poking at the zit. I drew a lot of blood and caused a lot more pain to myself, but the zit was still there; it seemed to be mocking me. Now I was really mad and I stabbed at it several times with the needle – opening up a series of small wounds in the area surrounding the zit. Blood streamed down my face in a series of rivulets.
Time to re-access; I stepped back rubbing my cheek and then took my hand away to look at the results. I was horrified at what I saw. The entire side of my face was now bruised and bleeding. From where the zit was centered there emanated a swatch of purple and red flesh; pin pricks surrounded it; and the worst part of it was that the zit still existed – bigger and brighter than ever.
I turned away and thought about it. Obviously the physical approach wasn’t working. I turned on the hot water and applied hot compresses to it. I soaked my face and washed it with soap, and then I applied some acne cream to it.
My wife gasped when she saw my face on Sunday morning. I mean it was really bad.
But as I write this it is Wednesday and things are looking up! My face is still bruised but the redness has subsided. The zit has emerged as a big round white-head surrounded in a little ocean of damaged flesh but I’m not willing to do any more squeezing – I’m content to let it run its course and just keep applying ointments and balms.
You know what – my face is really starting to get better! I think I’m starting to turn the corner!
RIP George Carlin
I’m getting really tired of noting the passing of important, vibrant personalities. We are in such trying times right now and we need the guidance and wisdom of the voices of people like George Carlin and Tim Russert.
George Carlin was most well-known for his famous “Seven Words you Can’t Say on the Radio” routine that landed him in the Supreme Courthouse but for my money his scathing political and social commentary was really where his brilliance shone brightest. He used comedy for precisely its most important function – to shine a light into the areas of society that otherwise would be too dark and terrifying for us to be able to focus our attention on without losing it and going completely insane.
Send your thoughts to madbob@madbob.com
I woke up on Sunday morning like I usually do. I stumbled out of bed and took a hot shower. I brushed my teeth and shaved my face. As I examined my face in the mirror I noticed that there was a small zit starting to form on my cheek a few inches beneath my right eye. There wasn’t much happening with it yet but it looked suspicious. I decided that it was imperative that I took action before the zit grew and caused more problems in the region.
I decided on the tried and true method of squeezing the zit between my thumbs in order to pop it and drain its accumulating juice. I clenched my teeth and maneuvered my thumbs into position and then pinched the skin surrounding the offending zit in the hopes of driving it to the surface and then annihilating it.
I ran into immediate problems though. It turned out that I had failed to adequately understand just what I was dealing with. The zit was subcutaneous – buried underneath the surface of my face – and as a result my initial efforts were totally ineffective. In fact the pressure I applied to the skin surrounding the zit seemed to cause new damage. Now an area about a half inch in diameter around the zit was irritated – angry and reddened.
I probably should have just left it alone but at this point I felt committed. No stupid zit was going to get the best of me! I thought about my next move and figured that perhaps if I put one thumb in my mouth and the other on the outside of my cheek – on the area of the zit – I could squeeze it from inside and out and therefore smoosh it and cause it to recede.
I attempted this tactic but its futility quickly became apparent. It also resulted in a great deal of pain and now tears were streaming down my face in addition to the redness and irritation. I needed a better strategy.
I decided on a surgical strike. I retrieved a needle from the sewing box and began poking at the zit. I drew a lot of blood and caused a lot more pain to myself, but the zit was still there; it seemed to be mocking me. Now I was really mad and I stabbed at it several times with the needle – opening up a series of small wounds in the area surrounding the zit. Blood streamed down my face in a series of rivulets.
Time to re-access; I stepped back rubbing my cheek and then took my hand away to look at the results. I was horrified at what I saw. The entire side of my face was now bruised and bleeding. From where the zit was centered there emanated a swatch of purple and red flesh; pin pricks surrounded it; and the worst part of it was that the zit still existed – bigger and brighter than ever.
I turned away and thought about it. Obviously the physical approach wasn’t working. I turned on the hot water and applied hot compresses to it. I soaked my face and washed it with soap, and then I applied some acne cream to it.
My wife gasped when she saw my face on Sunday morning. I mean it was really bad.
But as I write this it is Wednesday and things are looking up! My face is still bruised but the redness has subsided. The zit has emerged as a big round white-head surrounded in a little ocean of damaged flesh but I’m not willing to do any more squeezing – I’m content to let it run its course and just keep applying ointments and balms.
You know what – my face is really starting to get better! I think I’m starting to turn the corner!
RIP George Carlin
I’m getting really tired of noting the passing of important, vibrant personalities. We are in such trying times right now and we need the guidance and wisdom of the voices of people like George Carlin and Tim Russert.
George Carlin was most well-known for his famous “Seven Words you Can’t Say on the Radio” routine that landed him in the Supreme Courthouse but for my money his scathing political and social commentary was really where his brilliance shone brightest. He used comedy for precisely its most important function – to shine a light into the areas of society that otherwise would be too dark and terrifying for us to be able to focus our attention on without losing it and going completely insane.
Send your thoughts to madbob@madbob.com
Monday, June 9, 2008
No Tolerance
Girl-O-Rama! Hurray!
Well apparently I can’t drink alcohol any more – at least not in the vast quantities I used to imbibe. For the last couple months or so I have been cutting way back on my consumption. That being said on Saturday night the girlie show was in town and I decided it would be a good night to go ahead and tie one on. That turned out to be erroneous. As of this writing it is Tuesday morning and I am still not a hundred percent.
The evening was pure entertainment. 2 Drink and I rolled into Nick’s around 10:30 and caught the last song and a half of the Baghdad Batteries set. Is it just me or are shows starting a helluva lot earlier than they ever used to? The Shankers did what they do so well and in between the bands and afterwards wonderfully glamorous women performed classic burlesque numbers. There was nothing wrong with the evening that a couple of purposefully placed brightly sequined tassles spinning in opposite directions couldn’t take care of.
Anyway – after getting my fill of ear and eye candy I just didn’t want the evening to end and so I followed a small entourage across the street to a lively after-party. In retrospect I would have been better off just going home. I recall talking to some very nice people but I don’t remember a word of what was said. I recall meeting several very nice dogs as well. I recall drinking at least a couple of beers but I don’t recall how I got home. It isn’t more than four blocks to my house so I am assuming I walked but you never know.
“I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.”
-Kris Kristofferson
Never have truer words been spoken. I woke up in a serious pain haze with food smeared on my shirt and, inexplicably, a towel on the floor soaking up some sort of mystery liquid. I was an absolute wreck. The day was misery. I dragged ass over to 2 Drink’s (who had the foresight and wisdom to go straight home after the show was over) where I “helped” him set up his swimming pool. I also helped him drink a 12-pack of beer and that was about the only thing that saved me.
Of course “hair of the dog” is often just a way of prolonging the inevitable but at least it took a bit of the edge off of my pain. I semi-staggered the block back to my house and ran into City Council-member Maureen Kirk who was just leaving a wine and dine fundraiser being held at and for the ARC of Butte County. She told me they had an assortment of good food and wine tasting but when I told her I liked wine she told me sure, but not at 2 in the afternoon. I didn’t explain to her that I’d just guzzled five beers in order to stave off a vicious hangover. I’m not sure she would have appreciated that. She did tell me the food was excellent.
How Do You Know if a Politician is Lying?
I’m sorry – last week I said I’d get off politics but I lied. Barrack Obama has secured the delegates needed in order to be the Democratic Party’s Presidential nominee. It’s a pretty huge deal and I will tell you something; I just heard a re-broadcast of Obama’s speech following this news and that son of a gun can speak! I had tears in my eyes by the time he was done.
I’m immensely excited by this Presidential race as I’ve never been in the past. It isn’t just the compelling stories of some of the candidates – I think it has more to do with the feeling that, as a country, we are perched on a precipice. Depending on who we elect and then how they perform their duties and obligations there is the feeling that things could get much better or much worse than they are right now. Status-quo is not a possibility; and so it feels like this election is intensely meaningful.
There’s No Government Like No Government!
Ultimately though the responsibility doesn’t lie with our leaders; it rests with us. The more we rely on government to make things better and to solve our problems for us the more we justify the perpetuation of government. If we really want smaller government interference in our lives then we need to act like we can take care of ourselves.
Vote for yourself in 2008!
e-mail madbob@madbob.com
Well apparently I can’t drink alcohol any more – at least not in the vast quantities I used to imbibe. For the last couple months or so I have been cutting way back on my consumption. That being said on Saturday night the girlie show was in town and I decided it would be a good night to go ahead and tie one on. That turned out to be erroneous. As of this writing it is Tuesday morning and I am still not a hundred percent.
The evening was pure entertainment. 2 Drink and I rolled into Nick’s around 10:30 and caught the last song and a half of the Baghdad Batteries set. Is it just me or are shows starting a helluva lot earlier than they ever used to? The Shankers did what they do so well and in between the bands and afterwards wonderfully glamorous women performed classic burlesque numbers. There was nothing wrong with the evening that a couple of purposefully placed brightly sequined tassles spinning in opposite directions couldn’t take care of.
Anyway – after getting my fill of ear and eye candy I just didn’t want the evening to end and so I followed a small entourage across the street to a lively after-party. In retrospect I would have been better off just going home. I recall talking to some very nice people but I don’t remember a word of what was said. I recall meeting several very nice dogs as well. I recall drinking at least a couple of beers but I don’t recall how I got home. It isn’t more than four blocks to my house so I am assuming I walked but you never know.
“I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.”
-Kris Kristofferson
Never have truer words been spoken. I woke up in a serious pain haze with food smeared on my shirt and, inexplicably, a towel on the floor soaking up some sort of mystery liquid. I was an absolute wreck. The day was misery. I dragged ass over to 2 Drink’s (who had the foresight and wisdom to go straight home after the show was over) where I “helped” him set up his swimming pool. I also helped him drink a 12-pack of beer and that was about the only thing that saved me.
Of course “hair of the dog” is often just a way of prolonging the inevitable but at least it took a bit of the edge off of my pain. I semi-staggered the block back to my house and ran into City Council-member Maureen Kirk who was just leaving a wine and dine fundraiser being held at and for the ARC of Butte County. She told me they had an assortment of good food and wine tasting but when I told her I liked wine she told me sure, but not at 2 in the afternoon. I didn’t explain to her that I’d just guzzled five beers in order to stave off a vicious hangover. I’m not sure she would have appreciated that. She did tell me the food was excellent.
How Do You Know if a Politician is Lying?
I’m sorry – last week I said I’d get off politics but I lied. Barrack Obama has secured the delegates needed in order to be the Democratic Party’s Presidential nominee. It’s a pretty huge deal and I will tell you something; I just heard a re-broadcast of Obama’s speech following this news and that son of a gun can speak! I had tears in my eyes by the time he was done.
I’m immensely excited by this Presidential race as I’ve never been in the past. It isn’t just the compelling stories of some of the candidates – I think it has more to do with the feeling that, as a country, we are perched on a precipice. Depending on who we elect and then how they perform their duties and obligations there is the feeling that things could get much better or much worse than they are right now. Status-quo is not a possibility; and so it feels like this election is intensely meaningful.
There’s No Government Like No Government!
Ultimately though the responsibility doesn’t lie with our leaders; it rests with us. The more we rely on government to make things better and to solve our problems for us the more we justify the perpetuation of government. If we really want smaller government interference in our lives then we need to act like we can take care of ourselves.
Vote for yourself in 2008!
e-mail madbob@madbob.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)