So, it was inevitable that the Universe (or, The Life, as my good pal Dario calls it) would pair me up with a 25-year-old female vegan punk rock baker as my new coworker. Yep, it's as if every cliche I hoped to avoid has come crashing back. However, it's led to some interesting introspection on my part. Not that I haven't waxed on about how punk rock has evolved and become mainstream as I've watched it happen. Hell, I remember the first time I heard Green Day on the normal radio and was pretty sure I was hallucinating. Now, I mention that to the Vegan Bakeress (VB?) and she tilts her head like the RCA dog (wow, could I pack entries with more outdated references? sheesh), and doesn't quite understand how that could be earth-shattering.
No, not the damn music, the fact that there was actual punk rock being played on a normal radio station in a place of business. Granted, it was a Kinko's in Seattle (Capitol Hill no less, but still) but that it was followed in close order that week by the debut of a Bad Religion song about blew my doors off. Oddly though, the fact that it must have been old news by the time I heard them on the radio (as I really didn't listen to a lot of radio save for what used to be KCMU and is now KEXP) it still made be take notice. Our bands were getting played. Bands I'd played with. That it is normal for every little band to kick out into the stratosphere tells me something about the change in the Universe. What that change is, I'm still trying to wrap my head around. But it's odd. To hear VB talk about how she owns a house and is vegan and loves Henry Rollins. Then tells me how her "childhood idols" like Kev seconds are "fat and old." Childhood idols? I got a little tense and warned her not to take Kev's name in vain around me: her childhood idol? My frigging hero. Role model. Something like that. Then she shares her inside knowledge that Ian Mackaye (which she mispronounces, just like all good West Coast kids) once drank a beer. I can barely contain myself...and my mind wanders to years spent at d.c. space, reading MRR, playing crappy little shows, spending months of my life in vans....of group houses, and community center shows...of band arguments, practice space payments, and various retail jobs with other musicians. So much of my life, as we were living it, feeling so out of the loop, so outside of the norm, even in Seattle at times, unless you were on the Hill, it's amazing to me now how normal it all is. I'm still having a hard time putting it into words (having a hard time with that a lot lately. kids: don't do drugs) but there's a strange sense of achievement and disconnect. These kids, with their stretched earlobes and neck tattoos, having no idea of their own history. Of not knowing a time when being punk rock was not about a look or a style, but the lack of said thing. A quick browse of facebook or youtube and you look at old show videos from back in the day and you see such a cross section of types going to see shows, all unified by the fact that they simply didn't fit in anywhere else. As if punk rock was the Ferris Bueller of sub societies in youth culture. Now, thanks to the internet, everyone has a niche and they get to celerate it, but it makes me kind of sad too. There isn't a lot of romance in it. In trusting mailorders to europe, penpals you wrote to three times a week, writing letters at all. Buying actual records. Sitting and listening to them as you paged through MRR or Factsheet 5. I want to be more eloquent - I wonder how many other not-famous-but-once-active d.i.y punk adults are out there struggling with this. Why am I struggling? Shouldn't I be delighted? Stoked that we clearly made a difference at some point? Yet, Republicans still want to yank Planned Parenthood funding and reality TV is all the rage.
Progress?

So. The more things change, the more they stay the same. New kitchen and I'm settling in. It's an interesting set-up, we cook after the restaurant closes so it's just a couple of us bakers, and lately, just me & an intern, as my 25-year-old "boss" has taken a sick leave (and she's only been on the job for 3 mos), reminding me a lot of 5, and we know how that worked out. Better news still is that when my pal gets back from Germany, things could get even better, and the Manager of All Locations (let's call him: Mac) has already expressed interest in my gallettes. Which would be awesome, but right now, in production mode, I don't see it happening very easily. Plus, transportation could be an issue. Last night, all alone closing, I ran into a massive time crunch and realized I left a roulade in the freezer.But, you know what? I'm human, and at least nothing was burnt. Yeah. It's a good kitchen though, very SF MexiMafia, but I'm getting a feel for it. Not having my own transportation blows though, as I would have stayed as long as it took last night if I didn't have to catch that last train. Anyway, it appears so far so good. I just need to focus on shit. As per usual. Really miss the dog like crazy right now, but it's better she's not around really, because the hours are kind of crap. Well, actually, maybe not. She'd sleep all night anyway. Whatever. I'm just a little lonely. Had a brief discussion with CG while he was on the road, but it was, as per usual because he was lit up like a pumpkin. Many things were said and promised (as usual) and then 4 days later, he has no recollection of any of the conversation and texts me asking the same questions he asked when we spoke. Typical. Why I fall for this routine time and time again is just another indication of how useless that relationship is. Whatever. I know how I feel, I know what I believe in, and if I can just keep my standards to the level he instilled in me, that will be fine. It's perfect: he can't bury me at work anymore because he isn't there, but he can inspire me, because my recollection is obviously better than the actual product. So glad I'm not involved in the crazy chicken business. All those markets open, what a nightmare.
So glad to be done with that. Today: big production, long, long night, but then, I'm off!
Payday is tomorrow, but I think I will just leave it until Monday - better not to spend it anyway, yeah? Hope it's enough. Otherwise, back to the EDD.
Also, Schwartzenagger thing is funny. Once upon a time I would have written an entire post just on that. I'm kind of glad they are getting divorced, as I never believed in that marriage to begin with, and his inability to honor it is pretty classic. It's amazing that no one seems immune to having shit fall apart.