Saints, Mangos and Cigars...........

Hey, how are you? Well I hope.

This morning I woke up very early and went to church. You see, as I had basically slept on my feet through my visit yesterday, I felt that I owed myself and the almighty another shot. Catholic churches have masses every day of the week, and so I was not alone in my visit. There were about 30 to 40 people present, which surprised me, as I wouldn't have thought that going to church was what people thought about first thing on a Monday morning.

Speaking of religion, I was watching TV recently as I sometimes do. I am not a huge Sean Hannity fan, but he had an interesting segment on his show about a cult that exists in Mexico. It is the cult of Santa Muerte, or Saint Death. Saint Death is depicted as a skeleton wearing a shawl and carrying a scythe (doesn't the word scythe look like a scythe?) Her followers are often practicing Catholics, and pray to her for help in departments that other Saints are not seen as being in favor of such as adultery, revenge, phallic enhancement and help with drug deals and other illegal ventures. Saint Death apparently has a very libertarian view on such things.. Many Saint Death followers have no religion, and see her as a favorable alternative to other belief systems on the market. I don't know.. But when there is nothing certain you can see in life, death is certain.. "Memento mori", or "remember you are going to die" was the Roman way of reminding Emperors that they were human, and that knowledge is really what separates us from the lesser species...ez. Thus, the most common prayer to Saint Death is one for a happy death. However, she does not give help for free, and will happily take offerings of apples, alcohol and cigars in exchange for favors.. I do not see myself joining this cult anytime soon.

Speaking of Cigars, my relationship with them is not a happy one. Today I had my first one in months, and it was quite a negative experience. I cut and lit it, but at my first puff I felt the unpleasant sensation of hot smoke rushing into by breathing tubes. This is not supposed to happen, as cigars are not inhaled but despite the first puff, I apprehensively took a second. It was a successful attempt, but not a pleasant one. My mouth was filled with the taste of stale coffee grounds and charcoal smoke. Despite the first two puffs, I took a third, only to discover that the wretched thing had gone out. Compared to this last and final puff, the first two were like ambrosia.. It was awful. This time, not only did the foul taste of semi burned tobacco come to reside in my mouth, but also a fair amount of hot ash... When I had thrown away the extinguished and completely unsatisfactory article, I washed my hands and gargled with Listerine for about 5 minutes. This happened around 4, and my hands still smell incredibly bad. My clothes will never be the same, and I applied so much cologne that I now smell like my family in New Jersey. Needless to say, I will probably not make a habit out of this habit. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but other times a cigar is just awful.

Have a good week..............

Tropics, Bills and Fruit...

Well, it was a very odd Sunday for me. You see I have over the years gotten used to some sort of meal with the family on most nights, and sitting by myself at the kitchen table scraping cheese from a pizza box is really not what I have come to expect.

It is 7:30, and it to me feels a good few hours later. The reason for this is because when my new alarm clock went off at 5:00, I was unable to immigrate back into the realms of the subconscious and so I spent a few hours watching infomercials and eating breakfast. Did you know that Billy Mays is annoying? He in fact reminds me of someone I saw on TV during a family vacation to the island of Malta. His name was Angelo Di Roberto, and he would wheeze asthmatically between blisteringly fast Maltese endorsements of hair dryers.

So hey, I find myself running out of things to talk about.. I could run through my day with a fine tooth comb (haha.... Who uses a tooth comb?) but that would not do either of us any good. I think by tomorrow the blogging juices should have experienced a renewal in the fingers, and hopefully they will have something of great import to tell you about..

Nuns, Fresca and Peaches.

Why hello there. I would love to talk about something other then myself.. Unfortunately, as I am me, and the things that happen to me are also likely to happen to myself, this is often hard to avoid.

Today there was a wedding reception at the Best Western, and I cleaned up after it. It was very hard work, but luckily there were two of us dishwashers, and so it was not the all nighter it could have been. Also today, I dropped my parents and sister in Hartford in order to catch a plane. It was an easy drive, as there were few cars on the road... Unfortunately all the negative stereotypes I have heard about Asian women in cars were confirmed.

Did you know that I worked more hours in a part time job this week then any Frenchman is legally allowed to work full time? Infact 7 more. Wow.. They are a lazy bunch. Well, I have a pain in my gut that was no doubt caused by eating too much wedding food too fast, and can only be cured by either alkaseltzer and sleep or bran flakes and an hour on the toilet.. I am hoping it is the former. so I will let you get back to whatever it is that you should be doing. Talk to you soon...

Workity, Rescue and Guido

Hey, I don't know if you know what a guido is, but I will tell you anyway. Along time ago, Italian immigrants began pouring into the cities of America's northeast. Their children did some cool stuff, and their grandchildren became guidos. The unique species known as the guido, is known for a hair style called the blowback, a wife beater, lots of gold, an extremely obnoxious car and an attitude to match. Well long story short, I now have a full blowback.. And it looks, for lack of a better word retarded...

So I just got home from work.. I stink.. Seriously.. This is one of the few times in my life so far that I have not smelled wonderful. The reason for this is a new cologne I am testing. It contains the fragrances and particles of mahi mahi, prime rib, scallops, garbage, sludgy mop water, fryilator grease and Buffalo sauce. I myself am not sure that this concoction will be the great commercial success it's manufacturers anticipate.. Still, that is the beauty of the free market. Anyway.. It was my longest shift ever, and me and my blowback are quite exhausted.

Sorry dudes, but as I have given myself the lofty goal of not mentioning a certain stringed instrument, I am afraid that is all for tonight. Buy a ukulele...

Supremity, Endurance and the last mandolin

Hey.. So today I ordered the Paracho Elite Venice mandolin. It should be here in a week, and I am looking forward to playing it. I also promise that you will not see the word mandolin in a single post from now until that day comes.

I just got home from work.. I was there much later than usual, because a group came in just as the kitchen was closing, and decided that it would be a great idea to order scallops at 10:00. I did not happen to think this was such a great idea, and neither did the cook. We both gave them angry glares, and engaged in a brief sketch, where I tapped my wrist angrily and the cook threw up his arms and pointed at them. We in fact made them quite uncomfortable. Speaking of uncomfortable, as I was performing my duty of delivering dirty linen to housekeeping, I noticed two hotel guests approaching me. One of them had a grin on his face; no doubt caused by my thoroughly soaked groinal area ( In my job, a soaked groin means that you are a good worker.) I was in an uncharacteristically bad mood, caused no doubt by my scallop ordering buddies, and to me his facial muscles pointed to all that is wrong with the world. I met his grin with my best scowl.. I even turned my head as he passed, doing my best to look threatening. Even though his grin was gone, I was determined to make him even more uncomfortable for his unforgivable offence, and I got my chance as I was leaving work. He was standing at the front desk, so I snuck up behind him and slammed the key to housekeeping as firmly as I could on the desk next to him. I saw him jump, and so I slowly turned my head, again doing my best to look like I had just swallowed a shard of glass, to which he responded by averting his gaze. My terrorizing of the guests completed, I made my way out the door, cheerily shouting my goodnights to the employees at the front desk..

Today something made me happy. The supreme court came out with a ruling on the D.C gun ban, and thankfully the justices chose in favor of the individual vs. the collective right to bear arms. Justice Scalia wrote the decision.. Justice Scalia is a cool guy, because he explains things in a manner a kindergartner could understand. I personally never understood how the words of the second amendment could be interpreted as anything but and individual right, especially when read right after the first and before any others containing the words "the people." Something I find funny now that I have a little more perspective then I once did, is how the left and right in this country like accuse each other of picking and choosing from the constitution; the left focusing on the rights of enemy combatants, and the patriot act, and the right focusing mainly on the rights of gun owners and taxpayers, while both claiming to be on the side of the constitution.

I really do not like to talk about gun control, but it is now time.. I guess those who support and oppose gun control measures are divided into two groups; those who say that death is not the worst of all evils, and thus ones freedom is more important then ones life and those who say that life is the most precious of all gifts, and must be preserved at all costs.. I guess arguments against the first point are simple; people do not like being shot. It is not something one wakes up and wishes upon ones self.. Unless there is some sort of very big problem going on, but generally it is not something to aspire to. People also do not like the fact that several children are tragically killed in gun accidents each year.. Generally, arguments against the first point are mainly either emotional, or convenient. Arguments against the second point are more ideological. Live free or die.. The very right to defend your life, or the lives of those you love against any who threaten them, be it a home invader or a tyrannical government. I feel confident in my position on the 2nd amendment, and can happily and correctly quote it(the amendment), along with the first on demand. I could now write something about my views, but quite frankly it would sound like an NRA propaganda piece, so I will let Cesare Beccaria do it for me. The following quotation is taken from his 1764 book On Crimes and Punishment, and was used fondly by Thomas Jefferson "Laws that forbid the carrying of arms . . . disarm only those who are neither inclined nor determined to commit crimes . . . Such laws make things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants; they serve rather to encourage than to prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be attacked with greater confidence than an armed man."

Well that is all.. for now.

Orinoco, Pliers and Formulas..

Hello again. It has been too long, so I may as well dive right in.. Did you know that mandolins were at one time very highly thought of in Japan.. So much so that mandolinists were completely immune to the persecutions of Japan's military government. Apparently, due to the Japanese tendency to not enjoy complex rhythms, the mandolin music preferred in that country was the slow Italian variety. Another peculiar Japanese characteristic is that they are a naturally socialist people. By this I mean that instead of small bands, where each member may demonstrate his or her virtuosity, Japanese mandolinists organized themselves into huge orchestras, where they could all blend in harmoniously together. Musical socialism is a very good idea in many cases, as long as the orchestra is not too enormous, and the conductor not too despotic..

A month or so ago, I sustained a severe blow to my shin. It eventually turned into a puss filled welt, and now it feels really strange.. Perhaps a visit to the doctor is in order. However this is not possible, as they might find something wrong. Besides, I have not been to a doctor since I dropped a guitar on my toe when I was 13.

Have you ever noticed that some of us have strange faces; faces that if looked at from even a slightly different angle make us look like completely different people. I noticed this recently when I checked the view count on my Youtube video. We are a strange sort of people. It is like that Seinfeld episode.. I think the festivus one, where Jerry's girlfriend changes in different lighting. Perhaps I only think this about myself because I am not in the habit of holding two mirrors up, but I have noticed this in many other people.. Perhaps a bored brain just comes up with ways to amuse itself while the owner is out shopping.

So today I was waiting at Autex Mazda while my dads car was being inspected. During the wait, I started reading an awful magazine. In it was an article about some recent violence in Mexico.. It was not about the extreme acts of unfathomable brutality that the cartels are fond of, or even about food riots by angry farmers unable to buy corn because it is being used to make ethanol.. No.. It was about emo kids and how they are being persecuted by just about everyone else in Mexico City. Really? Now; unlike race, "Emo-ness" IS something you have control over.. If you do not like getting hit for wearing tight jeans and makeup, there would seem to be an easy path towards ending this violence. I don't know.. Perhaps my recent foray into the world of conservatism has given me a slightly negative attitude towards those who are... well, Non traditional.. Also, perhaps it is my lack of understanding of this "culture" that causes me to be critical. Of course I am not saying that people should not have the right to wear whatever they want and paint their faces.. I am just saying that when popular opinion is so obviously against you, and you do not seem to have any message other than misery and nihilism to deliver.. It is perhaps time to start considering other options. You have to think though.. Is this really important? Of all the problems facing Latin America, is this the one that should stand out? No. No it is not.. What is important is that Mexico is starving, and that whole families have absolutely no other option for survival then to break the law. Perhaps I got a bit lost back there, but as I remember, the author of the article in question concluded that the violence, and the American style sub cultures involved would shatter our bigoted stereotypes of Mexicans as sombrero wearing cactuses... Or something... I would rather keep my childish stereotypes then forget that even though Mexico might have modern innovations like the emo scene.. It is still in trouble, and needs help.

Diccicoure, 1916 and Whigs

Hey, it is now that time of day when I sit down to write about stuff, and you sit there and read it. Sadly it will not be very informative or fulfilling for any of us, but we are in it together and might as well stick it out.

Time to talk about Youtube. My user name, which I created last month to post a video is an odd one. Diccicoure is something that one of my mom's uncles was called behind his back. It is spelled semi phonetically, and in that unintelligible dialect of Apulia means "He said." This relation of mine got the name because he had a tendency to say "dishicoor" in every sentence.

Speaking of Youtube, I have used it in my search for mandolins. Unfortunately, I have been unable to to locate anything related to the Giannini GMSM3, which I decided to buy last week. Quite frankly, I know nothing about it, and I do not want to take another chance. However, I did manage to track down some information about another mandolin I had on my list, which is the Lonestar (now Paracho Elite)Venice model. The other day, I happened to type into my search bar an obscure song from the 40's that was covered by Dean Martin. Through this, I discovered an English gentleman, who goes by the Youtube name Bradybraidz. Bradybraidz happens to own a Lonestar Venice, and what was very surprising was that he displayed the exact model of Neapolitan mandolin I currently posses in one of his videos. I asked him for an in depth side by side comparison of the two instruments, which he kindly gave me not an hour later. I do not know if he was paid by Paracho Elite for what he said, but perhaps he should have been, as his description of the Venice matched all the points I had decided upon for what my new machine should possess. It is louder, much more comfortable, easy to play, has beautiful detailing and the intonation is perfect. Also, the company who manufactures the instruments recently upgraded their materials, which is just what I am looking for... So there it is... Final word. The Venice, which is in the Portuguese style, will be my new machine.

I am sorry for boring you with long descriptions of my attempts to acquire worldly goods. However, the music which said worldly goods will create will hopefully bring a joy to the hearts of all who hear it that cannot be bought or explained. Not to boast of my abilities, for I have little enough of those, but there is something which distinguishes the mandolin from all other instruments; a certain vibration that it's plucked strings create in the inner ear that cannot be duplicated or understood. It is almost a mysterious sound.. It has an atmospheric quality, that depending on the way it is played can take you to the back streets of Naples in the 19th century, where some poor musician is trying to get both girls and cigarettes for his playing, or a gas station in Tennessee during the great depression, where a day laborer completely out of luck and with nothing in his hands but a mandolin angrily lets forth a blasting slurry of notes to show both his disdain and love for his surroundings, or even a Moscow coffee house where a fat bourgeois college student sits entertaining his friends with ancient Cossack songs, moments before the communists burst in the door. It has what Santana would call a feminine tone. It can be gentle, like a mother singing to her child, or it can be like my old next door neighbor yelling at her kids for leaving the front door open... Now that I have successfully creeped you out, it is time for me to take off..

C ya palzzz

Card, Rosary and Crema

Hey there.. Another day, another crappy post.

So what's up? I did not really end up doing much today, which worked out quite well. You see last night I managed to ingest an unholy amount of caffeine in an attempt to stay awake through an 8 hour shift, but as I was only at work until 9:30, I was buzzing until 2. As a consequence of this, I woke up at 12.

You know the trouble with music is that it is like life; if your band keeps playing when you stop, the music goes on. If you whistle a tune and stop halfway through, you can finish it off in your head, and so it is still going. If music is like life, then a drum solo followed by eating live clams is like death, because while drum solos destroy what came before them, eating raw clams will destroy any sensation but nausea and toilet seats for the rest of your day.

Keeping on with this musical theme, I guess an interesting way to think about the passage of time is as a beat to the song of life. It can be a good song or a bad song, and you are doing your best to blunder your way through it as best you can. For me, I have faith in a supreme conductor, who wrote and guides this well organized symphony.. Others may see it more like free jazz, with no conductor, no definite guidelines and no need to play in time. Still others may see it more like a 60's blues rock band, where though there are some rules and a beat, you may take an extended and annoying solo with no consequences. Indeed, there are others who do not acknowledge a beat at all. There is no time signature, no pulse and only silence, and to break this silence, ones own piece of music must be created and played.

I am definitely not the first to come up with this musical analogy.. Several pieces of music exist which bear reference to it.. The two I can think of right now are Lord of the dance, which is a Shaker song from a few hundred years ago, and the other is the Danse Macabre, or dance of death in French which is the theme to an English crime show..

That is all for now.

Bacterial, Juice and Panthenol

Hey.. How are you?

I just got home from work, and quite frankly work sucked. Everyone was angry at something or other, and I found out that as well as washing dishes, mopping floors, organizing linen, sanitizing the whole kitchen and putting everything in its proper place, I also have to paint the kitchen.. Cool ha? Not really. Multi tasking is not something that I do exceptionally well, and tonight was no exception. I ended up covered in paint, and well behind in my dish washing. It was not fun. The only bonus was that one of the other dishwashers who is training to be a chef mopped the floor, which saved an hour. Something else that happened was that one of the other dishwashers got fired, and I got his hours... I don't know. Although I now can make more money, I feel slightly guilty about taking work away from someone who probably needs it more than me. It was not the best Sunday night ever, yet it was certainly not the worst. Still, every penny towards Tony's Emporium of Fine Goods helps. I also like mandolin money.

So hey, you have a good summer now. If you need any summer reading, I would happily give you all my Jerome K. Jerome. By the way, the K. Is for Klapka, which sounds kind of like an olde tyme way of saying gonorrhea. Indeed. Tomorrow I will enjoy performing my monthly overhaul of my room, which will rock.

Speaking of mandolins, I went to play some today. Although they were considerably more easy to play than my machine, they were not loud enough. To stand out in my religious musical group, I had to develop a style of mandolin playing which is quite unusual. I have to hit the strings much harder then they are meant to be hit, using a rapid tremolo for every note. I can only use the top two courses, as the lower two are quite indistinguishable from the array of guitars, pianos and banjos. This aggressive and in no way compassionate style of playing is hurting my machine badly. In fact, so much so that it is exhibiting symptoms that if left untreated will render it unplayable in the coming weeks. I am sad for it, as we have been very good friends up to this point, and the strain on our relationship will make it hard for us to see each other socially.

Bandolim, Katz and Calzuljique

Hey there. Good to see you here. What is your dream job? I will tell you mine.. It is something that I have aspired to since I was 10, but that has perhaps gotten a little dusty. Many of my friends shared the same dream. I still do, but I don't know about them. I have always wanted to own a bar/ store/ somewhere that sells stuff. This idea came about from watching crappy old movies such as the Three Amigos, and seeing the proprietors of liquor serving establishments lazily perambulate behind the bar and do almost nothing. What we wanted was somewhere where we could just hang out all day and play music, with only the occasional shootout to disturb us. I was reminded of this distant dream today when I went into a store on main street to buy a cigar box. The friendly proprietor was just sitting outside with his friends and enjoying some of the fine tobacco products he sells. Apart from worrying about finances and the occasional oral cancer, it seems like a pretty good way to spend a day at the office. Well, from now on, that is the goal. I am going to work towards owning an emporium of fine goods. There are worse things to aspire to than silly childhood dreams.

Now I want to talk about my old friends. They are hard to remember. A few days ago I found a letter. It was from a friend I had from when I was born until the day I moved to England. I never replied to the letter, preferring not to do so. It is a hard letter to read now, not just because an 11 yr old wrote it, but because it was so obviously heartfelt. Now I am feeling differently. This friend went and still goes by the name Elizabeth Wiljelm, and soon after we moved, her parents separated and her mom left our awful part of NJ and took her to Vermont. Well, thanks to whitepages.com I now have her mom's phone number and I am debating whether or not to give it a ring. It would be weird to say the least, as I can no longer remember much about life at that age. Is it a good idea to talk to such distant acquaintances whose lives have been so different? God knows.

Speaking of God, it is time for me to go to bed or I will not be up for church at the appropriate hour. I will then have to drive my grandmother to meet her train to Iselin. It will not be an easy trip, because the Puerto Ricans start getting on the train around Springfield. It is weird, but to single out only the Puerto Ricans (and Turks, Arabs, Greeks, Germans, Northern Italians, Poles and Albanians) for collective derision seems like something only she can do. "Puerto Rican", has been added to her considerable vocabulary of Southern Italian words for things that are bad. For example, if my brother and sister are arguing, she will tell them to stop being Puerto Ricans.

Well, that is all for now. C ya soon...

Costa, Cavaco and Stopper

Hey there guys. It is now quite late, and I am very tired. Hopefully you are too. I ended up having a very easy going sort of day, with lots of music and joy. I like joy.

I ended up not getting the call from work I have been dreading, telling me I have to go in tomorrow morning.. I do not like washing dishes for weddings. You see at weddings, everyone is served food at the same time, and so all the dishes come back at the same time.

Indeed, I ended up going to my brother's graduation. It was fun and interesting. I got to sit next to my grandmother, and hear many of the people who spoke called shengat, or chuchuline.. Still, it was a nice affair and it concluded with ice cream and swings, as all good ones do.

No.. It is a very powerful word. It is so powerful that the Irish are not allowed to use it for fear that they will make use of it in reference to their drinking habits, and rule the world. No can mean yes or no, depending on how a question is asked, so yes can also mean no if it means no. No is a weird sounding word. It sounds sort of like snow and oh. If you add things to it, you can come up with lots of words... Words like Not, Nothing, Note, Notice, Notary and many others. If you say it to yourself over and over, it starts to sound different, and not quite right. There are many ways to say it. You can say "NO!!" "Nno" "Neeeew" "Nah" and "Naw." No has played a very strong developing role in the world. Cave men could have used it in reference to using newly discovered fire for cooking purposes... Perhaps some were vegetarians, and used it to refuse meat. Caesar could have used it to refuse imperial status. Napoleon would have perhaps found it helpful if he had used it more when making plans to invade Russia. Without no, we would have no religions. Christianity for example is based on the right to no. Atheism is based on a no to religion and Unitarianism is based on a no to no. Without no, we would have no yes. We would have only maybes.. In fact, we would be useless Irish road builders.

Disco, Bakery and Donkeys

Hey there. I had a good day today. I got up at 9 and collected and deposited my first paycheck. I thought I would be funny, by walking up to the desk and saying "GIVE ME MY MONEY!!" in a loud voice. However the appearance of the 300 pound biker who was checking out of the hotel dissuaded me from doing so.

After this was done, I returned home and reacquainted myself with the 12 string guitar. At 11, I went out again for my interview at the Cheshire Horse. It went well, and I found that the work would be well within my capabilities. I also found out that I would be starting at $10 an hour, and that this would increase after 3 months. I also found that the job would eventually become full time, and with this would come complete health care coverage and a salary... Sounds awesome. It is the sort of work I would not even have to go in for, as all I would need would be a computer with Internet access. I was told before I left that other candidates would be interviewed this week, but that so far I was the favorite. I was also told that Amber had said some really nice things about me, and we talked for a while about how awesome Amber is. I would be quite happy with this job if I could get it, but if I do not I would not be too bothered.

Today I decided not to order a mandolin.. Partly because I wish to exercise a bit of restraint, and more because I want to wait until I can comfortably afford the Giannini GBSM3 with a built in pickup. I will also purchase a small battery powered amp so that I can be better heard amongst the other musicians I play with. I am definitely stuck on buying a professional quality Brazilian mandolin. I do not want another Italian one, as the lute style bowl on the back is not very convenient. I do not want an American style mandolin, as they are too quiet and not as aesthetically pleasing and I certainly do not wish to buy a mandolin from a part of the world with no history of mandolin building, as I learned my lesson the last time. In Brazil, there is a history of mandolin players and playing. Mandolins are mostly found in the Choro genre, which as far as I can tell is an offshoot of samba. It is the lead instrument in this acoustic style, and is accompanied by a cavaquinho, which is like a ukulele; a Spanish guitar and a Brazilian 7 string guitar, which acts as a bass instrument. There is also usually some Brazilian percussion.. If you are interested in learning more about this, try searching for songs like tico tico no fuba, naquele tempo and the brasileirinho. If you are a youtube user, check out the group Conjunto Som Brasileiro.. Today I learned some other interesting stuff..... (If you don't want to read more music crap, stop now.) The Portuguese Guitar that the Brazilian mandolin, or bandolim is based on actually comes from England.. I never thought that this could possibly have happened, but apparently it is true. I found a picture of an English "guittar" from the 17th century, and it is the spitting image of the Portuguese version.. You see many years ago, the British and the Portuguese were very close, and they not only exchanged alcoholic beverages but also stringed instruments. Well, I am excited to be taking a course in Brazilian music at college..

I also got together with some cool people and we did cool stuff.. Perhaps I will write about it in another post, but right now I am afraid that it is time for me to sleep..

Matters,Water and Tires..

I just got back from work. I had not expected any work today, apart from buying wood from Home Depot. As I was and am very tired, I had expected to go to sleep at 10 after a wholesome practice of spiritual music with my elderly musician friends. Instead I got to listen to the the clanking of dishes and the sleazy pickup lines directed by the cook at any female who entered the kitchen. It turned out that the person who I was filling in for had not showed up or called.

Tomorrow I have a busy and early starting day. I have a lot of social activities to enjoy, as well as some financial transactions and an interview. I am looking forward to them all. It should be awesome.

As I mentioned, I am exceedingly tired.. It is perhaps a good idea that I now enjoy some sleep. It should be awesome. Musha.. Good night.. but before I go, I will leave you with some fine words by Jerome K. Jerome on the subject of work: "It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart."

Radio, Ointment and Alarm Clocks

Today I got up and went to work. Before I left, I watched some news and ate some tasty svogliatelle. When I got to the Colorado Steakhouse, breakfast had started and I found a lovely pile of dishes and pans awaiting my attention. I washed dishes and cleaned until 2. I happen to like my job. There is no one to tell me what to do, and no longer anyone to tell me how to do it.. I can take as many breaks as I want for as long as I want, and I get free food. I can talk to people all day if I wish, or conversely hide behind my washer. I also have responsibilities such as cleaning up and making sure the kitchen does not burn down, and I am paid fairly well for what I do.

Today something interesting happened. A man walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. He sat for a while and then began talking with the bartender. He told her that his profession was a 9/11 truth investigator. After a few indifferent and polite remarks in response to something about demolitions, he asked why she was so ignorant, and told her that she really needed to get informed. He then ordered another drink, to which our bartender responded that he had obviously had quite enough, and asked him to either shut up or leave. At least that is what I could discern, as she was laughing quite hysterically as she relayed her account.


This week I have plans. I do not have to work until Sunday evening, as I took Friday off for my brother's graduation. I have some people to see that have been conspicuous by their absence from my day to day affairs; an interview to go to, a mandolin to purchase and a face wound that is healing well.

Thank you, and good evening...

Scousers, Importance and Plectrums

Is there such a thing as unnecessary knowledge? Have you ever read, seen or heard something that you wish you had not? One of the problems with knowing things is that you cannot be selective with things you already know about.

Is government a business? I do believe so.. The only business which can go against the laws of the universe. If a government were in charge of a parking lot in a big city and not many people chose to use it instead opting to ride bicycles more, the price for the few people who did use the parking lot would go up, and a law would be passed to insure that everyone was required to use it whether they want to or not, or even if they do not own a car. There was something I heard the other day which was a bad example of something like this. There is a nursing home in Worcester, that was required by the city to keep it's heating on until June 15th. I do not know if you remember the temperature a few days ago, but I do.. The gist story was that the poor seniors were camping outside. It's too bad that in many ways, governments are not like contractors.. If you don't like one, you can go to another without leaving your town, although that is usually called revolution.

I included the first two paragraphs to prove a point.. It is only people with nothing to do who like to talk about politics. It is my opinion that people like hyperboles. (Is Hyperboles a word?) Even they do not believe in them, there is something simple and wholesome about them.. For example, it is easy if you are tired and hungry after a long stressful day at the office, to blame oil companies and Bush for high gas prices, and to think of them as being the most evil people on the face of the planet.. It is also similarly easy, if for example you have been in the desert for a year living on dried grass and snake vomit, to declare a bottle of Gatorade the best thing you have ever tasted, and the person who gave it to you a saint..

Anyway, I did not have work today.. I thought I did, but I did not. This morning my car broke down on west street. It was simply a clogged air filter.. Long story short, I turned up at work an hour and a half late and inquired in the kitchen if I still had my job. It turned out that It was a mistake, and that the boss had messed up the schedule.. Still, I do hope I still have my job tomorrow. Even if I do not, I may be changing jobs soon anyway. The Cheshire Horse called me to invite me to come in for an interview. I am very confident that I can get the job, but I will see what they have to say before dwelling further. Whatever the outcome of the next week or two, I will still have a lot more cash than I had expected, as well as a new mandolin for playin tunez with. Sick ha?

C ya!

Bootle, Lullaby and Waiting

"What the eye does not see, the stomach does not get upset over"- Jerome K. Jerome.

Well, I am now home from another day of work in the food and beverage industry. It was an eventful one, and at times quite soul crushing but over all not bad. Today was my first night of closing the kitchen all by myself, and so it took me a little longer than usual. Tomorrow is my last day before I have a few off, and I only have to work until 2 which is awesome. I may look into getting a second job, but right now I am not too bothered, because apart from taking some hot grease to the face yesterday which caused it to ooze puss for most of last night and today (sexy!!) and some various aches and pains, I am quite happy. Besides, I have plenty of social plans for this week and a grandmother to clean everything for me.

This morning I got up and went to church. My father showed up today to appease my grandmother, but my brother was absent which later caused unsavory looks to emanate from our matriarch during father's day brunch. Speaking of father's day, I bought mine a book called The Politically Incorrect Guide to The Constitution. This book presses the points that the separation of church and state is not in the Constitution; that new deal progressives re-wrote the Constitution to suite their fascistic needs and that activist judges are a big problem.. Among other things..

So I have made a decision on which mandolin to purchase. I have chosen the Giannini GBSM3, which is awesome... I am going to order it this Thursday as soon as I deposit my first paycheck, and it should arrive a week later.

Right now, I am watching an episode of Agatha Christie's Poirot.. The producers of the show decided to scare me by singing children's nursery rhymes in a weird discordant way over every murder scene, which there are many of... It is also quite funny.

See you tomorrow.

Comma, Acai and Food.

Hey there.. Today my day was cool, and went as follows: I woke up at 10, and felt not even a tinge of guilt for doing so. I then went into town to deposit the monetary contents of my cigar box into my bank account in order to purchase a mandolin online. I then came home and ate one of those great Paul's Choice burgers with bacon and cheese pressed into the beef. It may sound gross, but you really must sample these fine culinary creations.

I left for work at 3:45, and jumped straight into the fray. I also met the other new dishwasher called Eric. Eric and I came up with a dish washing strategy that made things go faster, and we were soon done with the rush of plates and utensils that materialised at our station with the help of two very large wedding parties.

The rest of the day was a blur. There was so much to do... All day.. Eric and I were the last to leave, because once everyone else had gone we still had to sweep and mop the whole kitchen, which takes 30 minutes if you do it quickly.. We had to take all the crap from behind the bar and throw it away because Chantelle is a girl, and according to the official rules and regulations of the fine Colorado Steakhouse: "Girls are not allowed by the dumpsters after dark." We also had the funny task of running every single non-slip floor mat through the dishwasher. This is boring to read, and I have always wanted to use the word plethora in a sentence, so there you go..

No matter how much I may complain about my job, comparatively speaking it is a pretty good one. I also happened to get it on St. Anthony's day.. which was also Friday the 13th......woooow.. Or in the Mid West: Whhoooow.. It is not your fault if you didn't get that..

Dishes, Mandolins and Air Conditioning

Hey there. Recently you have heard me complaining a lot about being unemployed, and for this I apologize. I now have a job as a dishwasher/prep cook at the Colorado Steakhouse. I start today at 4:30. My interview was short and, mainly consisted of my interviewer and I complaining about hippies who refuse to work properly. It was however my previous employer who got me the job, as he happens to be friends with my new boss. I will be making $8 an hour, as well as a bonus after 30 days if I do not complain/quit. The hours will be all over the place, but as I have no real plans for the summer, this should not be a problem. I am of course greatful to EC Floorsanding, the Calorado Steakhouse and St. Joseph.



I wrote that last paragraph at 2:30.. Lets see what happens next.

OK, it is now almost twelve, and I have been at work since 4:30.. I did not have fun.. The work is at times dreadfully dull with nothing to do, and at other times complete chaos. I have the most disgusting jobs of anyone there.. It is for lack of a better word completely icky. I also am the last person to leave, as I have not only to sanitize every stainless steel surface in the kitchen, but also to sweep and mop all the floors, run dirty napkins up to the housekeeping department and put every single dish and utensil in it's proper place. Besides all this, I am now a prep cook too. Preparing small dishes and salads is the easiest part of my job. Apart from all the gross stuff, the hardest part is finding where everything goes.

I was told that I did incredibly well for my first day, and I am proud of the work I did. By the end of the night I had stopped asking questions, and was just doing my job. Besides all the negative points, the job is fulfilling. It gives a strong feeling of community, as everyone in the kitchen is mutually dependent on the work of everyone else. Everyone is very nice, especially as I managed to not screw up at all. I am not looking forward to tomorrow as I am told it will be very busy indeed.. However, I am very pleased that I now have a job and can contribute to society once again..

See ya tomorrow..

Tang, Pomegranates and Puss..

How are we all today?

Well it is Thursday, and I do not have a job.. Work is very hard to come by. I have now put in 40 applications in the last 3 weeks, and no one seems to like me. It seems odd.. Today I was at Multi Med in Swanzey applying for an absolutely awful assembly job. It is the sort of boring work with no variation that has the tendency to drain the soul, but I would happily do it for minimum wage.. While I was there, 4 other applicants were applying for exactly the same position. Indeed, it is extraordinarily hard to find even the most unpleasant work. If I do not get any calls by 12 tomorrow, then it is off to Price Chopper for night shift.

Besides complaining, I have honestly done nothing else but go to every business in town asking for a job for the last month. Perhaps it is time to start my own business, but what to do? I could host poker games and take a 50% house cut, or I could put my dads lawnmower in the trunk and mow people's lawns, and demand that they pay me.. Perhaps sleeping on it would be a good plan.

You know what? It is time to talk about instruments. I would really like to own a serviceable mandolin. I got a new one for my birthday, but unfortunately it did not work too well at all. I am currently building a ukulele neck for it out of poplar. The result will eventually resemble something between a cumbus, a George Formby style banjolele and a Brazilian cavaco. At least that is the plan. My parents say that they will pay half the price of a new mandolin in exchange for the chores I am doing around the house but I will not accept this generous offer, though I have been looking around at the choices available. I am determined that my next machine will be a flat back because they are cheaper and easier to play, and I have zoomed in on three possible choices. One is made by a Mexican company called Paracho Elite, and is called the "Venice" model. It is relatively cheap, and from what I understand is also of reasonable quality. The second is made by the company Paris Swing and is called the "Nauges" model; Nauges after a song by Django Reinhardt, who's choice of guitar style this mandolin strongly emulates. It costs $500, and so buying it would cause me not to be able to drive anywhere. It also has quite a thin body, which would not produce the amount of volume I am looking for. The last choice is the Giannini GBSM1 Brazilian mandolin. It is made by the company Giannini, who have been making mandolins in Brazil since 1925. Brazilian mandolins show their European heritage by strongly emulating the Portuguese guitar used in Fado music. These mandolins have quite deep flat backs and long scales, and thus will produce more volume than my current ailing machine. Still, all this speculation is irrelevant until I find a job. I just wanted to talk about something else than finding one.

Pears, State and Panama

Hey there. I made the mistake of leaving my mandolin in a car yesterday. As a result, the neck has become even more warped, and the top has started to bend under the weight of the strings.. It now feels even more dangerous than usual, and really would like to be replaced.. Unfortunately, though I currently have the funds to make this happen, I would not feel comfortable bleeding my account dry until I am gainfully employed..

Being unemployed has a certain vibration.. A sort of feeling in the back of your mind that constantly tells you that you are useless. This feeling is no doubt a result of evolution, and is there to encourage productivity and thus better circumstances.. I have not had a single callback this week, which is disappointing as I have put in well over 30 applications over the last 3 weeks.. I would very much like to have a job. How is it that on TV, people can go out in the morning looking for work and be employed by lunchtime?

Why is it that the most terrifying things are also the easiest to do? How is it that facts which support a theory automatically make the theory true, even when the facts are not? How is it that it is OK to wear a speedo to a public swimming pool, and not OK to buy coffee in the same garment? How is it that two things with no significance by themselves, are when brought together completely significant? How is it that you are right now able to give a face and a voice to lines, dots and dashes on a high tech piece of paper? why does it smells really good outside Subway but when you go up to the counter, it smells like a subway? Why is it that we say things when there is no reason for them to be said? Why did I write that crap?

C ya rownd..

Pride, Butterflies and the most expensive Carr on our lot.

Hey there. I have one of those headaches that throbs, and I feel like there may be vomiting in the very near future. These symptoms tell me that exercise is bad.

To spare you from the usual ramble about my job search, I will just say that I had a very busy day indeed, and I am still unemployed.

As I was driving to pick Ian up from school, I had my good old AM radio blasting out the Rush Limbaugh program. It may have been loud, but I did have the windows open, and so the volume was necessary in order to fully comprehend my orders from the commander in chief of Operation Chaos. As I was sitting at the light at the top of court street, a car pulled up alongside me. The windows of this car were also open, and through them I could see a woman in her mid 40's who seemed to take offence at my choice of radio station. As the light turned green, she took off, and as she did, she shouted at me to "TURN OFF HATE RADIO!!!" Just in case I had not heard her properly, and I had, her car confirmed her words with the help of a bumper sticker displaying the above slogan.. I however did not turn off hate radio, and got to hear an ad for a job I had applied for this morning. Just in case you are wondering, I am not a devoted follower of Rush Limbaugh, but I happen to prefer his broadcast over the competition..

I just realised that I have forgotten to call Herr Doktor Vickery in order to rehearse Land of Hope and Glory with him this evening. Oh well. Playing too much music in this level of humidity causes strings to become sticky and rusty rather quickly, making playing uncomfortable and uninspiring. I do not enjoy sweating. However sweat does cause me to smell even better than I usually do. It is peculiar, because the opposite effect is true for most people.

After reading the two works of Jerome K. Jerome that are most highly acclaimed by history, I do not know what to tackle next. What to do? I have no idea of what direction in which to go. I could print out everything I have ever posted on this page and make it into a book for my own consumption.. However, I would have an unfair advantage as to where the story is going, and paper is gross.

So I am thinking about signing up for a spot at Fritz's open mic night.. Just my ukulele and I.. The proverbial duo of man and machine brought together through shear necessity.. The lonely wandering minstrel.. The man with the mandolino.. El Mariachi.. The Pied piper, only instead of stealing children, I get will everyone in the place to follow me across the street to Cheshire music to purchase new ukulele's.

And what could make you more comfortable than talking about Jesus?.. it seems that every religion or really any collective group for that matter, has some form of a coming of age ceremony. When I was 8, I did not want mine. I hated having to go to school on top of the school I was already required to go to, just to read stories about some dead magic guy who for some reason wanted me to drink his blood. It seemed stupid and pointless. At that time, I could not have cared less about being a Catholic. Why was I different than everyone who I went to school with?.. My brother had a similar experience, and when it was my sisters turn, my parents gave up. They decided that it would be her choice, and of course she chose like any 8 yr old with just a touch of self interest in mind. It is quite odd.. My sister now goes to a school where Unitarianism is the religion taught. She just had her schools version of a coming of age ceremony, where her class was taken to the Unitarian Church, and she was dubbed "Sir Hannahlot" with a wooden sword by her teacher. It just seems a little odd. It is not that I have anything against Unitarian Universalism, which by the way is a NH original.. It is probably more that I am annoyed, and a little jealous that she did not have to suffer through boring theological classes like I did. I don't know.. Is there something to be said for letting children choose their religious orientation? I know I came to mine later than many of my fellow Catholics not because my parents told me to, but because I thought that it was the right decision for me. Should it be a decision you make in adulthood, or is it the duty of your parents to impress a certain moral code into you? Does it infringe on parents rights to answer no to that question? I know that one of the conditions for marriage amongst those who follow the teachings of Cathol is that you must raise any children you might have to share your beliefs. Is such a promise incompatible with 21st century thought?

YAY!!! It started raining.

Toilet paper, Sweat and Cato

Hey. Today I would like to talk to you about toilet paper.

I have been lucky enough to visit Europe a few times. One summer, my family and I visited France for 2 weeks. We lived in a tent on a campsite with a lot of very red Irish people (They do not tan well at all) as well as some English, French, Germans, Spanish, Canadians and Moroccans. It was on the whole a very nice trip, and something that my family found very funny were the various attitudes among the different nationalities with regards to toilet paper. The campsite had 1 unisex block of toilets for about 500 people. When I say toilets, I do not mean the form of toilet you are accustomed to; i.e. with a seat.. No, these toilets were simply holes in the floor with concrete footprints on either side for the sake of accuracy.. These fine facilities, which failed to meet the approval of any of the 5 senses obviously considered themselves above the new stringent EU hygiene regulations, did not feel the need to provide toilet paper. It was therefor necessary to for anyone wishing to uses the facilities to walk through the entire camp carrying hygiene equipment.

The English were the funniest. They without fail would traverse the path to their destination head down, and sheepishly carrying the roll beneath a towel. The Irish were different and seemed almost proud. The Canadians were a lot like the English, only less red and the continentals did not care at all.

In case you are wondering, I did not spend all, or even a few minutes of my time watching people perform bodily functions. It is just funny to see red faced, towel clad Englanders walk as quickly as possible without drawing attention to themselves through a group of drunk and taunting Moroccans, or an Irelander lifting two rolls on a stick like barbells. The reason for this brief essay is for the consideration of anyone who would suggest that there is no such thing as national character.

Today I had a busy day. It started out with a look through an index of the saints and a prayer to St. Joe for help finding work. I was then about to leave the house when I got a call from the window framing company I had applied to weeks ago informing me that I did not have the job. At least it was nice of them to let me know. I left the house and made my way to Keene State to ask the grounds department if they had any jobs. The guy told me no, but asked if I had any sort of a manual labor background and if I was a KSC student. I answered yes on both counts, and mentioned that Nate Hardy had told me to ask him. He said that he had something for me in the fall, which was nice, only now is not the fall at all. Not to be put off from my search, I made my way to main street. I applied to be a sandwich artist at Subway, which is a good job for me because I did not know that anyone else but me considered putting meat and cheese on bread an art. I also got an application for Corner News. I was told to come in tomorrow at around 11 to give my application to the boss and have a little interview.

After all of that fun activity, I returned home. An hour later, I resumed my search. I went back to the NH Dept. of Employment Security in the hopes that they could help me. When I entered the building, I encountered one of the members of my Catholic music group who evidently now works there. He gave me five sheets of paper with numbers of people to call. All but one turned out to be no good.. The one that was good was also odd.. It was odd because as I called the number, I could hear a phone go off behind me. When I turned around, I noticed that the sound was coming from Bentley's Roast Beef.. I had not even noticed it before. I applied, and the heavily accented and gold wearing boss told me he would get back to me. If he does, perhaps I should wear more gold to the interview as all the employees I saw appeared to heavily adorned with graven gold imagery.

Too long? Perhaps.. See ya.

Seatbelts, Burgers and Monroe

Hey there, it is nice to see you and I really mean it. I would like to welcome my new regular readers, as well as show some appreciation for my older ones.

Tomorrow my Brother is graduating from high school. It seems weird.. I am glad I never worked hard enough to graduate before 18, because I am grateful for the years I got to spend stewing around with people my own age in a captive environment, but to each his own.

It is pretty damn hot.. I would be very grateful for air conditioning right now, but the fan stuck in the window will have to suffice. At least I have Gold Bond medicated powder.. It is truly awesome stuff; a veritable panacea for all the socially awkward itches the summer has to throw at you.

Today I played bluegrass with Chris and his dad. It was awesome. I learned a lot about how I am not very good at the mandolin. The kind of music I play with the old folks is usually very slow, or at least with a melody that I can quickly pick up.. If I can't, there are so many people playing other instruments that I can just fake it. Bluegrass with 3 people is different. There is nowhere to hide, and blindingly fast bluegrass solos are not as easily picked up as I had supposed. Also my mandolin is not reacting well to the recent humidity and has become even harder to play, not to mention that even in perfect condition it would not be at all suitable for the bluegrass style... I gave it a fair shot, as well as learning something very important to bluegrass called the chop. The chop is when you strike the muted strings of the mandolin to get a percussive sound. It is awesome, because even if you do not know any mandolin chords, you can still sound good.

Strangely enough, my ukulele has become a lot easier to play. This is probably because in Hawaii, they get to enjoy more warm weather than we do, and so Hawaiian instruments are built with this in mind..

I feel I must apologize for my overuse of the word moonbat in my previous post. When you are awake for too long and are spending time with people who think that a paperless cigarette would be the best invention since sliced bread, every word Howie Carr may choose to utter becomes pure gold. The easy way to remedy this is by finding new friends and listening to NPR... However I am shy and I happen to strongly dislike NPR... Apart from this story about a Jewish guy who was not allowed to write his name, because it is blasphemy to use any of the 72 names of God lightly.. Is God one of the names of God?

Well here we are.. Near the end of a very painful post.. I cooked ribs for 8 hours today, which were awesome.. It was hard to regulate the heat of the charcoal because of the humidity.. But that is another story for Tony's fine recipe book.

Stay tuned, and be ready for my next update... Hmm, that kind of sounds like genocidal the radio guy from Hotel Rwanda.. Not cool dude..

O, Mores and Tempora

Hey there. In this post, I will put in parentheses any word which this spell checker thinks it has a better option for. I don't know why.

After purchasing my new cycling machine and finding that the chain was broken after 3 days, I endeavored (devoured) to fix it. It subsequently (subserviently) broke in 2 more places, which was annoying and slightly painful.

So it would seem that you cannot tar all moonbats (moon boats) with the same brush.. Actually tar contains chemicals which can harm the environment, so that is not perhaps the best metaphor to use. The reason that I say this is because upon the return of our fully qualified veterinary technician, somehow his discussion with my mother turned to politics.. I don't know, but it is my opinion that you should probably not discuss politics with someone who is about to pay you and has the opportunity to not do so.. It turns out that his political idols are in chronological order Thomas Jefferson, Barry Goldwater and Ronald Reagan. Did you know that being a homeopathic (Homo)con artist does not automatically make you think that Dennis Kucinich (Conch) should be president of the universe? Also, I fully expected him to drive a prius (Paris) or Subaru outback, but I was again surprised to discover that he is the owner of a very large American Ford escape..

Have you ever thought about growing a beard so long that you could use it as a towel? Neither have I.

Tomorrow after my religious obligations are completed, I am going to go to the store to buy ribs, which will then sit in a garbage can with charcoal for 8 hours.. I have the the perfect rib formula. While the pork smolders away, I am going to jam mandolin with Chris and his dad's bluegrass band, which should be pretty cool..

I have a feeling that next week will be my last as a lazy 19yr old who sits on the couch all day. Dude, I am so old. I am preparing for my website technician interview, by going through all my experiences with computers, and trying to make watching Youtube (Tobe) videos sound professional. All I could come up with was my Internship at a country station, this blog, my high school computer use, and also stretching the truth by saying that my dad taught me everything he knows about computers. Wow, I just found ketchup in my elbow.. Is that weird?

Spongebonbon, Ukulebricklae and Moonbatten

Oh hey there. It is now very early on a Saturday morning, and I am sitting here at a computer. I just uploaded videos of myself playing ukulele, but they did not seem to work properly.

I met up with Amber today, and she told me that I will be getting a call next week.. Amber is slowly taking over the Cheshire Horse. I also applied for some night hours at Dunkin Donuts.. Dude, I want 2 jobs.

Other businesses applied to today:
. Hannafords
. Joann Fabrics
. Bergeron Construction
. Nieghbors

What to do? I seem to be feeling far too tired to purposely write anything interesting, and so whatever comes next is likely to be accidental.

Well here I am. There is nothing left to do before I go to sleep, so now I am at the point where I am watching Looney Tunes and re-reading the texts and emails that I got today. I love these old cartoons. Haha, awesome!! Daffy just entered a yard full of dogs on a swing and said swing just returned Daffyless.. Wow.. I am tired. Have you ever tried to sing in front of a semi serious crowd and forgotten what song you were singing halfway through? I have.. In connection with this, have you ever wondered why so many Irish songs have semi gibberish lyrics? This Irish invention is called "lilting", and arose from the very same scenario I just described. Did you know that ukuleles are not Hawaiian? It is true. The Ukulele is basically a Portuguese instrument called the braguinha, which was brought to the Hawaiian Empire in the 1850's by the Portuguese immigrants who cut sugar cane all day.. Clearly being too busy with sugar to play music, the Hawiians took over the portuguese instruments and adapted them to their traditional music.

I have come to the conclusion that I do not very much enjoy talking about myself.. It is odd, but when there is nothing else to explore literarily, one often finds the easiest subject matter close to home. With that in mind, I would like to explore what you have read of my fine work up to this point..

It seems that a lot of what I have written about lately is my difficulty in securing gainful employment. It has been a long long search, and hopefully it is nearly over as the law of averages should start kicking in this weekend.

I also have been writing about politics.. It seems odd to me that while having the freedom to write about almost anything, I would choose something that I hate talking about..

Well.. That is all I can think of without reading past posts.. Something that I really think I have done a good job at is not making you feel too uncomfortable. Apart from body hair and powdering my testicles with Gold Bond, I really do not think I have been too awkward. I know some of you who read this have a strong dislike of religion, and others are inclined towards being right. From what I can remember, I have covered my own religious experiences in a laid back NPR sort of way.. I could write a religious blog if I wanted to, but I do not wish to do so. I would prefer a ukulele blog with religious elements.. Ukuleles.. Buy one today; you know you want to!!!

Original, Polish and Acapulco

Whatever disappointment I may feel from not having had a single call from any employers this week, I do still feel quite optimistic.

Something weird about religion and politics is that if you know nothing about someone but their religious and political affiliations, you can already decide who they are before you have any contact with them.. Your judgment may in some cases be very accurate, and other times it may not.. What I find weird about these two subjects is their diversity; just as in race, in my opinion more variation exists between members of the same religion than between different ones.. Also in politics there seems to be more difference of opinion within one major political party than between parties..

I do not wish to elaborate further, but I think it is fascinating.

I just watched the Karate Kid 2.. Having never seen the Karate Kid 1, I felt slightly disadvantaged.. It was a weird movie.. Did you know that the 80's happened years ago?

On my way to pick up an application for a medical parts assembly job, I listened to Howie Carr on the WRKO radio network. Today the Cap'n as he is know by may affectionate listeners was talking about the "moonbat" community of Arlington MA, who's state rep. just got busted in Lowell for attempted sexual assault. After I got home and filled out the application, I endeavored to find out what a trust fund is and if I have one.. It turns out that I don't, and that my parents are in no mind of letting me have one. Wouldn't it be cool to never have to work? No, not really...

I would like to talk about my work ethic, and possible lack thereof.. I technically do not need to work right now.. My dad can afford to put me through college. However, I would not like him to do this by himself. I think that one of the most important steps in becoming an adult is taking responsibility for what you spend, and what is spent for you. Something I like more than sitting on my ass doing nothing, is the feeling that I have earned the right to do so after a day of hard work. I like doing unpaid jobs around the Casey compound, because it makes me feel that in some small way I am doing my part. I am very fortunate to have a father who thanks to this great country became, and is becoming quite well off. I however do not feel entitled to any part of his good fortune.. I am a firm believer in making your own way in the world, and that is why I would like to start channeling my future income into my education. These may seem like slightly hypocritical statements coming from someone who spends far too much time spent slumped in front of a 40 inch flat screen TV, but I am sincere. I just wish someone would hire me very soon so that I do not become a moonbat by default through my own laziness and hypocrisy.

Music.. I am going over to the Vickery compound to play bluegrass with Chris and his dad tomorrow evening. I have recently taken a liking to the genre. I also like playing mandolin.. Speaking of mandolin, my catholic group recently lost our young Kenyan to higher education, leaving two of us under 50. We will soon also be losing our young flute player (I have never, and will never say flautist) to the same cause. That must make our average age somewhere between 48 and 50. Also I have been asked to play the English patriotic hymn Land of Hope and Glory on ukulele at my brother's graduation.. How did a song about building the new Jerusalem in London become the last piece of music students hear before they are thrown into the world?

C ya..

Rice, Peaches and Karizmah...

Hey there. I am sick of politics.. I can't stand watching election coverage, and yet I have been doing it anyway. Why do I do it? Perhaps it is because I like to feel part of something bigger than myself, or perhaps it is because I am scared of what could happen to this country..

Is higher education good? Is the trend that it has taken over the last 50 years actually helped people discover who they are, and who others are, or has it served to eradicate the existence of rational thought, and the inability to discriminate between good ideas and bad ideas? Probably not.. I think a lot of people against higher education underestimate both the intelligence of some and the stupidity of others. Not all who go to college come out as doctors, lawyers, teachers and scientists, and not all come out as flag burning PETA supporters who faint at political rallies.

Do minimum wage laws make sense? If you could only afford to hire 20 people for 7 an hour each, but then someone told you that you had to give those same people 10, what would you do? Obviously you would have to let the least skilled go, and keep those who you could not do without.. How does this help the most vulnerable in our society? It does stabilize their status............. As permanently unemployed.

Do progressive taxes make sense? Say you were that boss formerly of 20 people and now 10, and you were doing fairly well; now suppose some socialist told you that you would have to shoulder your "fair share".... What would you do? You would of course have to pay your employees less, which you could not do because of minimum wage laws, so you would again have to fire those who were not absolutely central to your business.. Good job socialists, now you have 5 more people out on the street who now have to live off programs funded by an ever shortening supply of tax payers....

Governments are funny, because they do not work by supply and demand.. If a government does not have a demand for something that it supplies, it will raise its price to generate more revenue... How can governments running anything be a good idea? If people stop using stamps, then the price will dramatically rise until no one can afford to buy stamps.. Does anyone buy stamps anymore? Why do governments live outside simple Tony economics?

I feel I must apologize for more unimformed political ranting.. It is late and I am very tired and I spent the last half hour trying to think of crappy analogies for my minimum wage story.. I hate things that seem like something interesting to write about, and turn into what looks like a script from the Rush Limbaugh Program.

So I am considering volunteer work, because as no one seems to want to hire me why not work for free? If you know of anywhere that may be looking for portly gentlemen looking to help out with some worthy cause, you should let me know..

Fission, 8 ball and Maple

So here I sit; pantless and trying to figure out yet again how to do my cuffs up inside out. The absence of pants is not a problem, because I can see them just beyond the reach of my arm. My shirt also poses no serious threat, and will no doubt soon be properly affixed to my person. I am thinking of what below in the kitchen would make a decent breakfast... Possibly some form of cereal, or maybe something more dangerous, such as steak.

Yesterday, a few things happened.. I went down to main street and acted like a fool; A big one...It was fun, but not productive in any foreseeable way. After this, I made my way over to Monadnock to apply for a janitorial position with the district..Which I did, before returning home and looking at newspapers.. I noticed an ad for a website technician at the Cheshire Horse, and even though I know that I will no doubt be the least qualified person to apply, it was still a good excuse to visit my good buddy Amber at work. I filled out an application and give it in, and Amber helped me out by telling her boss that I was awesome. I then dropped off my application at Neighbors.

After that, I took the sister out bike riding.. Halfway between downtown Keene and our house, my chain snapped.. I don't mean twisted/came off/ bent/ got stuck; it simply snapped clean in twain. The long walk back home was not something I had anticipated, yet I bore the inconvenience with great fortitude.

I ended up falling asleep very early, and so I failed to post.. Stay tuned this evening.

$$$, Shropshire, Dowsing

How are you over there?

Today I applied to CNS Wholesale Grocers, Borders, IParty and the Sentinel. Incidentally, CNS was the name of the bus company that used to take me to school. The Borders application was weird. I had to take a 25 page multiple choice survey about myself... My likes and dislikes, and whether or not I would swear violently at customers.

I spent some time today driving to Home Depot to buy lumber. I then promptly returned it when I found out that it was not pressure treated. Did you know pressure treated wood is heavier than its organic counterpart? I also bought a piece of poplar to make a neck for my cumbus uke.

Today was not the sort of day that I can't get excited about. Apart from applying for jobs and and waiting for people from those jobs to call me, I really did nothing apart from ride down to the country club, and then to the gas station on my shiny new machine....

As both the protagonist and the author of this publication, I feel that it is my duty as both to engage in life in a more inspirational way.. As the author I owe it, because you my readers who have remained faithful up to this point will not be so for much longer if I continue to write about such mundane things as applying for jobs and Germans. As the protagonist, I owe myself more than either sleeping till noon, or spending time with those who seek to influence my behavior in a way that my principles dictate is not positive. To remedy both problems, tomorrow I am going to go out and do something stupid for you and something positive for me, because as Chesterton said "A good novel (blog) tells us the truth about its hero; but a bad novel (blog) tells us the truth about its author. " My mission is now to write a better story for both of us. Thus, I am going to attempt to be both a good and bad author.

Today I saw a few episodes of Penn and Teller's "Bullshit." It was awesome.. They were all about alternative medicine, new age stuff, tartaric sex, chiropractors, yoga, religion, pet love, environmentalism.. The show explained how each of the proceeding subjects fit the shows title, and while I did not agree with a good deal of what they said, I did see a lot of people who looked and spoke like the friend we met in a recent post.

I must seriously question the subject of alternative medicine. If it worked, why would it not be mainstream? Is it really because the evil corporations want to keep us dependent on their products? I doubt it, because in a capitalist society that really would not make sense.. I understand the placebo effect quite well.. I remember some of my friends and I giving heavily watered down beer to someone who did not, yet should have know better, and telling him that it was vodka.. The behavioral changes which took place in him were remarkable to say the least. The mind is quite a powerful device, if used correctly.. However, and not to overuse subject of the good doctor who came to see us, but I do not understand how the placebo effect/Homeopathic medicine could possible work on an animal.. Animals do not think, and thus are quite incapable of being cured with a pogo stick and a radio antenna... The answer must therefor be that it does not work, and that the positive effect is transferred to the owner of the animal.. Basically, people who practice this form of medicine are praying on the affection someone feels for an animal in their care. Perhaps these Doktors do not do it intentionally, and are firm believers in their methods... Still, bullshit is bullshit.

Well, thank you for reading my most profanity laced post ever. Please stay tuned for more.. Posts that is.

Epiphone, Price and Nails

Today I woke up at 7 and 8, put on my church pants and went to church. Most of my group were not there, but it all worked out. After church, I got several compliments on my mandolin playing. It was awkward, because attention is not the reason I play, and I am not trying to distract people from what they otherwise would be doing in a church situation.

When I got home, I took off my church pants and went back to bed. An hour or so later, I woke up and finished reading Three Men on the Bummel. One of the last chapters was interesting, and displayed one of the more peculiar remnants of Prussian culture. What I am talking about is the German mensur. A mensur is when a group of young Germans get together and fight with swords. The goal of a mensur is to show your character by not reacting to pain. For a mensur to take place, two Germans stand face to face and attempt to scar the face of the other. There is no winner or loser, but apparently the one with the most cuts is a hero.. Also, did you know that German females are greatly attracted to excessive facial lacerations? This apparently still happens today.

At 1, I drove over the Chris Vickery's house to play music. Chris played stand up bass, and I played mandolin. The result was actually very nice, but there was a lot of empty space between the bass and the mandolin.. There needs to be a guitarist to fill out the sound.

I also rode the bike.

And watched TV.. and built a deck..

And checked how many views I have on Youtube..

And ate dinner, which was delicious.

And drove to Troy.

I also got pretty board, and read a lot..