The Random Griffith

Amends for the past few days

Posted in embarrassing confessionals, laundromat posts by Jackson Griffith on 07/09/2010

I believe I have some amends to make. You see, I’ve been somewhat of a swaggering butthole the past few days, and I’d ascribe that jankified state of affairs to, well, I’ve been feeling like utter crapola, like I’ve had some kind of low-grade flu bug that didn’t outright kick my ass as it just left my woodrow in the ditch. “Headache, neck ache, unnatural feelin’s, body hurtin’, think somebody did somethin’ to ya,” as Prophet Omega of the Peaceway Temple, 488 Lemont Drive, Apartment Q-258 — that’s the Kenmont Apartments — used to tell his parishoners. Yes, I’ve been a horrible, insufferable twat, a “glum cunt,” as Mel Gibson might put it after a cocktail or thirteen.

So, I’m sorry. I want you to read my stuff and be transported to a sweetly groovalicious place, where enchiladas dripping with cheese and piquant cumin-accented sauce grow on trees and the river flows with cane-sugar Coke, or lime-flavored Jarritos, or tequila if that’s the way you roll. I’d rather not send you to some crummy little verbal purgatory because I was feeling all achy and butthurt and crappy and desolate and emo and frankly, fucked up, and I let my fingers do the talking and then thought later, great howlin’ idiot Jeebus kicking loose magenta nuggets of putrefying quiche ’round some totally ugly Volvo where Xenu’s yokels zampoughie, what TF was I thinking? Y’know, I’d rather that you laughed instead of went, uh, what a sphincterous old fnarf that guy is.

I. Am. Genuinely. Sorry. Really, I am.

Speaking of laughter, I got back from a noontime errand, and was looking at these posters up all over Tattooed Drunkard Corners, and of course I read the text first: “Blvd Park = Suck” on the top line, “Musical Charis” under it,something about the Press Club and Monday September 13 at the bottom. Hmm, I thought. I got in that stupid little dustup with Blvd Park, but actually I like that band and think Brian Ballentine’s a really good songwriter, and maybe I’ll have to make that promising little soirée for a Mad Dogs & Englishmen fix. And Musical Charis, well, missed ’em last night at Old I, but wanted to go but I’d been feeling like a tossed-off slice of pizza dragged by a mangy dog through an motor oil-splattered gutterspot covered with cigarette butts and last night’s good-time vomit, so I stayed away. Having missed the Partridge Family circa 1970 because I’d discovered the joys of marihuana and Frank Zappa, it’s always good to get a postmodern fix, albeit filtered through a prism of au courant fashionableness. And while that may sound snarky, I really mean it to sound sincere. Aside from me getting crinkly about the wake-up calls, I rather enjoy the music of both those bands.

Then I stepped back, and saw the glasses on the face on the poster, and thought, wow, once I had a pair of Brooks Brothers glasses that ugly, so ugly that my ex-wife used to make fun of me when I wore them, and then I looked at the fellow on the poster’s ugly mug. “Oh, fuck,” I rather exclaimed. “That’s me!” Willis, a Press Club regular who’d been having a smoke on the sidewalk, got a panicked look and mumbled, “Uh, see ya later” before making a beeline for the bar. Guess he thought, considering my recent well-curdled mien, that I might get pissed off or something.

But no. I’m not mad. Which is a good thing. Y’all made me laugh pretty good. So, Brian and Timmy and you guys, and Harley, too, it’s all good. Yeah, I got upset, probably because I have this really nice new steady job after a couple of years of unemployment, or chronic under-employment, and I just can’t function all that well on three or four hours’ sleep, then get up to be on the road by 7 a.m.; I really need to be able to think on my feet and produce good work. So I got a little indignant about it. What I realized is that I really need to move to a nice, quiet place, and I’m in the process of doing that, and then when I need a dose of live music, I’ll be able to come out on my own volition, rather than have it sprung on me when I’m trying to sleep. I love live music, but my requirements have changed. I need sleep, too.

As for the other amends I have pending, those I gotta make in person. Such is life. —Jackson Griffith


3 Responses

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  1. Tekla J. Waterfield said, on 08/09/2010 at 06:10


    I’ve been mostly on the sidelines watching this thing between you and some members of our band go down and I just want to say….

    I love this blog. I love your new attitude.

    And I completely understand the need for space, quiet; a good night’s sleep, and how frustrating it is to have loud noise thrown upon you when you’re not ready and willing.

    Alas… and as you’ve discovered… that’s Midtown living for ya! I know, I lived there for four years… for the most part in a much quieter, off the beaten path part of Mtown.

    My last few months there, however, were spent at the 19th & H Bell Tower Mansion where a typical night consisted of at least a dozen people roaming in and out while simultaneously consuming massive quantities of booze. (Not saying I don’t love the peeps at the Bell Tower….they’re good folks with good hearts….) But I can definitely sympathize with you on the noise bit. And the consequential grumpiness that ensues.

    I hope you find that quiet place you’re looking for. Take care and maybe we’ll see ya at the Press Club show.

    Musically yours,

    p.s. Brian’s a master-poster-bater in’t he? 🙂

    • Jackson Griffith said, on 08/09/2010 at 07:29

      Wow, thanks! You just made my day. Yeah, I kinda let myself respond like a real imbecile for a while, but when I saw that poster, I just had to laugh. Brian’s got a great sense of humor. And I’m gonna really try to make that gig, even though I’m moving to a quieter place, and just eat it and go to work the next day on less sleep. Should be fun.

  2. marie meade said, on 19/09/2010 at 10:34

    Wow – you are prolific and talented! Congrats on 18 years – I am on Day 57. (Marie from the Triangle.) Love the blogs.

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