So, yeah. He gazed across the table and broke the silence (not an uncomfortable silence, just a comfy hey-here-we-are-at-the-local-mexican-joint-for-grub silence) with "So, how about those Juno boys, eh?"
To which I replied the only way I know how "They are a most talented group of guys." To which I added, "And they rocked the fuckin' house Saturday, and the bass player, that Jason guy, owned those songs."
I said that, because the man did, and it was no small feat.
Tuesday, February 04, 2003
One of the first webjournals i ever came across (while surfing on Xerox/Microsoft's dime) was Musings of the Gus - which I found through some random search for punk rock sites back in the day (that'd be '95 or so, for those of you keeping track at home)). Anyway, I still read Gus fairly often, though I took a long break from his rambling stuff while he was in LA; as I found he had become boring, and the inclusion of adventures with his girl were not just boring, but poorly written. But he's back on the East Coast now, and with a new girl who obviously indulges his sardonic side, which is nice to see. Occsionally he writes something and I feel like he's beaten me to the punch. Tow wit:
"For those of you who are religious and wonder what message God was trying to send with today's disaster, hold on to your Bibles and fret no more, I think I have this one figured out! The problem seems to have been with the Columbia's left wing, which either broke off or otherwise malfunctioned while the shuttle re-entered Earth's atmosphere. I'm thinking that God was fed up with the continuing marginalization and oppression of the Left by the present American administration, and in His own inimitably mysterious way, decided to send our nation a message by smiting the left wing of its most famous and flamboyant of wing-ed craft, thereby demonstrating an important fact: you cannot fly without a left wing."
Nicely done, Gus.
"For those of you who are religious and wonder what message God was trying to send with today's disaster, hold on to your Bibles and fret no more, I think I have this one figured out! The problem seems to have been with the Columbia's left wing, which either broke off or otherwise malfunctioned while the shuttle re-entered Earth's atmosphere. I'm thinking that God was fed up with the continuing marginalization and oppression of the Left by the present American administration, and in His own inimitably mysterious way, decided to send our nation a message by smiting the left wing of its most famous and flamboyant of wing-ed craft, thereby demonstrating an important fact: you cannot fly without a left wing."
Nicely done, Gus.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Well. I had big plans to post over the weekend, what with all the action, but it (as usual) got pushed back. I wanted to wax rhapsodorically (you like that? yeah, me too.) about the wonder that is the local band Juno, as I don't think I've done that in this venue (and it'd be a nice break from the constant braying about my lost punk rock youth. Although it seems that that is what my internet presence has become, merely a sounding board for my inability to cope with not being part of the scene anymore). However, the space shuttle is on my mind, as it is many people's lately. Though I'll wager my thoughts aren't like theirs.
Here's why: I am one of those freaks who wasn't terribly upset by the explosion of the Challenger. I'm assuming here that there are some - though I have yet to come across anyone who doesn't go on and on about how it impacted them. I was in college, a freshman when it happened. I remember it quite clearly, because it was still so new that the launches were still regularly broadcast on TV. Being the speed demon that I was at the time, I was routinely up at 6am on weekday mornings, usually at Mike's apartment, watching TV before hitting class. Generally, I enjoyed indulging in Jim & Tammy Faye (it's a long story, though fairly humerous, it's too long to go into here, now, but rest assured I wasn't a member of the GodSquad) - but that morning, we were indeed watching the Today show (as I recall) and the liftoff. I do remember being amazed that I was actually seeing it happen. I remember thinking "Wow, it really did blow up. Live, in front of the world." Because at that point in our country's sordid little history, we didn't have a long list of public deaths to choose from: you had JFK, RFK, MLK, and uh, oh, yeah, Lee Harvey Oswald. Beyond that, not a lot going on in that area. It had been a long time since we'd seen heroes go down. Certainly it was my generation's first experience. But here's the weird part for me: I didn't dwell on the deaths as unfortunate lives lost. Naw. It hit me then, as it does now, that part of the risk in being an astronaut is the danger of what you are doing. Seriously. You are shooting a tube full of people into space. Not just the sky (I mean, if you concentrate on it, airplanes are just begging to be smacked down by Nature) but into space away from the earth. With big, explosive rockets. It's a dangerous gig my friends. Just because the Space Shuttle looks like a plane doesn't mean it is one. But I'm digressing (obviously). My point is that part of what (I think, though the the loved ones' of the dead seem to concur) attracts people to being an astronaut in the first place is the danger. The risk. Because the payoff (being in outer space) is awfully fucking cool. Have you seen the video from the mission? Do you see anyone bummed out? Sad? Bored? Hell no. Every person looks totally into what they are doing, and if there is one thing that I know, it's that when you are living in the moment, fully enjoying what you are and where you are, that is what makes life worth living. They train for the mission. They are aware of the risks, and they choose to do what they do because at some point your will to do it supercedes everything else. If they had second thoughts they would stay on the ground. I furmly believe that. Which is why I'm sickened by all the weepy bullshit around America. It's NOT some horrible loss - it is in fact a great example of the courage and daring that makes some people truly inspiring. I can't see it any other way. I can' t mourn for those people, because I don't believe they lost their lives in vain, or due to some sort of preventable issue. Yeah, I realize the explosion is most likely due to a malfunction, but those happen. Risks are there. Statistically, we're gonna lose some shuttles. We are going to crash cars, planes are going to crash, generally, bad things happen in life. But to get all weepy does no one any good. Plus, let's all pull back and quit teaching our kids to be so goddanm morose. Grief counselors are a growth industry. It's time we as a nation frigging bucked up. To wit, I offer Hunter S Thompson in today's salon:
Here's why: I am one of those freaks who wasn't terribly upset by the explosion of the Challenger. I'm assuming here that there are some - though I have yet to come across anyone who doesn't go on and on about how it impacted them. I was in college, a freshman when it happened. I remember it quite clearly, because it was still so new that the launches were still regularly broadcast on TV. Being the speed demon that I was at the time, I was routinely up at 6am on weekday mornings, usually at Mike's apartment, watching TV before hitting class. Generally, I enjoyed indulging in Jim & Tammy Faye (it's a long story, though fairly humerous, it's too long to go into here, now, but rest assured I wasn't a member of the GodSquad) - but that morning, we were indeed watching the Today show (as I recall) and the liftoff. I do remember being amazed that I was actually seeing it happen. I remember thinking "Wow, it really did blow up. Live, in front of the world." Because at that point in our country's sordid little history, we didn't have a long list of public deaths to choose from: you had JFK, RFK, MLK, and uh, oh, yeah, Lee Harvey Oswald. Beyond that, not a lot going on in that area. It had been a long time since we'd seen heroes go down. Certainly it was my generation's first experience. But here's the weird part for me: I didn't dwell on the deaths as unfortunate lives lost. Naw. It hit me then, as it does now, that part of the risk in being an astronaut is the danger of what you are doing. Seriously. You are shooting a tube full of people into space. Not just the sky (I mean, if you concentrate on it, airplanes are just begging to be smacked down by Nature) but into space away from the earth. With big, explosive rockets. It's a dangerous gig my friends. Just because the Space Shuttle looks like a plane doesn't mean it is one. But I'm digressing (obviously). My point is that part of what (I think, though the the loved ones' of the dead seem to concur) attracts people to being an astronaut in the first place is the danger. The risk. Because the payoff (being in outer space) is awfully fucking cool. Have you seen the video from the mission? Do you see anyone bummed out? Sad? Bored? Hell no. Every person looks totally into what they are doing, and if there is one thing that I know, it's that when you are living in the moment, fully enjoying what you are and where you are, that is what makes life worth living. They train for the mission. They are aware of the risks, and they choose to do what they do because at some point your will to do it supercedes everything else. If they had second thoughts they would stay on the ground. I furmly believe that. Which is why I'm sickened by all the weepy bullshit around America. It's NOT some horrible loss - it is in fact a great example of the courage and daring that makes some people truly inspiring. I can't see it any other way. I can' t mourn for those people, because I don't believe they lost their lives in vain, or due to some sort of preventable issue. Yeah, I realize the explosion is most likely due to a malfunction, but those happen. Risks are there. Statistically, we're gonna lose some shuttles. We are going to crash cars, planes are going to crash, generally, bad things happen in life. But to get all weepy does no one any good. Plus, let's all pull back and quit teaching our kids to be so goddanm morose. Grief counselors are a growth industry. It's time we as a nation frigging bucked up. To wit, I offer Hunter S Thompson in today's salon:
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