1996 and the memories it brings... aka who loves Bush?

Let me take you back to 1996 for a bit.  Young Bradley (or "Brad" as he was know then) is just beginning his lifelong obsession with music, specifically Rock N' Roll music.  He's taped some of his mother's vinyl records like "Born to Run," "Bat Out of Hell" and Neil Young's "Decade" compilation.  He loves those cassettes but soon learns there are other stations on the radio besides WKLH - the Milwaukee-based Classic Rock station.  (A quick check of WKLH's "last 50 songs played" list reveals the usual suspects - Led Zeppelin, Mott the Hoople, Boston, the Stones, Petty, Floyd, Eddie Money, Journey, Whitesnake, Def Lep, Foreigner, Van Halen, etc., etc.)  Brad starts inching up the dial and runs into what they call "alternative" stations.  He hears what is currently his favorite band in the world, Metallica.  What song, you may ask?  Jesus, that was over twenty years ago.  What the fuck?  How am I supposed to remember that shit?  Wait, I forgot that no one knows what the right answer is so I can just make it up.  Never mind what I just said, I totally remember it like it was yesterday.  It was METALLICA'S "FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS."  Odd choice for a radio track as there's no lyrics for over two minutes, but fuck, who cares, it goddamn rocks!  So, needless to say, Brad was locked in on this new station.  He couldn't wait to hear what was next.  It was a song that would rock Brad's young world called "Lithium."  He would later learn that this was the song that played during perhaps THE GREATEST PERFORMANCE MTV HAS EVER SEEN (the "Rape Me" intro, Krist hurling his bass towards the heavens only to catch it with his face, clearly concussing himself in the process, or as they said back then, "getting the wind knocked out of him," and, the finishing touch, Dave Grohl's "Hi Axl" taunt to wrap it all up).  What was this music, and who the fuck was Nirvana?  Brad would later learn that Nirvana is one of his favorite bands ever and he would have the unfortunate pleasure of visiting Kurt's hometown of Aberdeen, WA multiple times.  First with a future girlfriend who grew up there and later for other, more random reasons.  But, Nirvana is not what I'm here to write about, we don't have the fucking time.  So, let's jump to the next song Brad heard on the fateful day.  What was it?  This time I fucking remember for sure.  Not sure why I can't recall the Metallica song, but it's probably because I already knew it so it didn't stand out to me.  Anyways, next up on the "alternative" station was:

"MACHINEHEAD" BY BUSH

If Brad had any mind left to be blown after hearing "Lithium" then it was surely destroyed by "Machinehead."  The energy, the guitar sounds, that voice, fuck, THAT VOICE, those nonsensical lyrics, the inverted chorus; damn, this shit was real.  But, remember, this is 1996.  Brad is quite young.  How would I get more of this band called... "Bush?"  What stupid bandname, but so is "the Beatles," so fuck it.  If the music is good...  And it was.  But, I wanted to hear more.  So, I did the only thing a child could do back then to hear a song again:  listen to the radio nonstop for the next couple days, with a blank cassette in the brand-new Sony boombox (a CD player no less!  Though we owned exactly zero CD's...) we got from my mom and stepdad cashing in their Camel cash.  Oh, the 90's...

But, seriously, it took two days of sitting in front of the stereo every goddamn moment I wasn't at school, doing chores, eating, pooping, sleeping or playing baseball.  It was excruciating.  Then, FINALLY, it came back on!  Sort of half-listening, I missed the first five or ten seconds as I scrambled to push the "red circle" and "play" buttons as quickly as possible.  It was an art to get the whole fucking song, and I was a determined muthafucker.  Every song that I missed the first few seconds on, I'd wait and wait til they announced it was coming up "after this break," and I would memorize the commercials so I could time it just right to have the song in its' entirety.  I was unparalleled at this unique skill and eventually people would hit me up for copies of my cassettes since they were so much better than theirs (and because they were too lazy and unfocused to make their own) and had music they had never heard before, like Bush, Rage Against the Machine, The Wallflowers, Nirvana, R.E.M., etc.  

Pissed that I missed the opening bars, I waited to hear it again.  Another day passed.  Then, they announced that Bush was coming up after the break and I wasn't going to miss it this time.  The brief pause after the familiar commercial and record/play, here we go!  Only it was different.  It wasn't "Machinehead."  I was stopped in my tracks.  I loved this song even more.  Wait, they have more than one good song?  This was great news!  Maybe I should save up my chores money and buy this cassette.  Actually, fuck that, I wanted to get it on CD.  I can do that now!  But, what was this new song called?  After the song ended and I started breathing and being conscious again, I heard the DJ say "COMEDOWN."  I NEEDED this album, ASAP.

I asked for extra chores so I could slowly work my way towards the $15 or $16 I knew it would cost.  I wasn't going to get there quickly enough for me.  Cassettes were cheaper, so fuck it I could get that now.  Off to Sam Goody in the Beaver Dam mall (RIP to both).  I raced to the "B" section and grabbed the first Bush tape I saw.  I was so excited!  I was going to get those songs at home and whenever I goddamn wanted now.  Except, in late 1996, Bush had TWO albums available and I picked... the wrong one.  Don't get me wrong, I love "Razorblade Suitcase" as much as the next guy (as long as that guy like fucking loves "Razorblade Suitcase" as much as I do.  OK, chances are I love "Razorblade Suitcase" more than the next guy, unless the next guy is Gavin Rossdale and, in which case, I can't believe I'm next to Gavin Rossdale!  He's so talented... and sexy...) but it definitely does not have "Machinehead" or "Comedown" on it.  I was so bummed.  I'd have to start saving all over again...

In the next few weeks, I slowly fell in love with "Razorblade Suitcase" but more rapidly fell in love with some song called "One Headlight" by the Wallflowers.  I found out it was Bob Dylan's son and I was in.  Although, Jakob sounded like if Bob and Tom Petty had a kid...  Which, I know, not possible outside of a "Junior" type scenario, but that's what it fucking sounded like.  I got distracted and as soon as I had my $16 I convinced my mom to drive me to Shopko where I could buy... "Bringing Down the Horse" by the Wallflowers, on CD.  My very first CD!  I had my Bush on cassette and that would get me through the next few weeks as would this Wallflowers record, which would go on to be one of my favorite records ever.  Not top 10 or anything obviously, but definitely top 25 or 30.

Meanwhile, my sister had heard of Bush, perhaps because I couldn't stop talking about them or playing the songs I taped off the radio on repeat, between spins of my brand new CD.  Or, perhaps she saw one of the videos on MTV.  Kids probably don't know this, but MTV used to play music videos.  I found many a great artists via this extinct medium (RIP MTV as a music channel).  So, now she wanted in on this band.  We saved our money, headed to Walmart and were gonna get us some Bush!  But, it didn't make sense for us both to buy "Sixteen Stone."  I wanted it badly since I already had "Razorblade Suitcase" and had been jonesing for this album for about two or three months, at least.  But, she was older and had the final say.  She was buying "Sixteen Stone."  Dejected, but determined to buy a CD, I purchased my second copy of "Razorblade Suitcase," this time on CD.  Why, you may ask?  Because I have Asperger's and once I decide I'm going to do something, I have to do it or I will go insane.  And, I had decided I was buying a Bush CD that day, so I did.  I dubbed my sis's copy of "Sixteen Stone" but worked so hard to convince myself that "Razorblade Suitcase" was better.  It was not, but man, did I try hard to believe it was.  It's like WHAT MARK KOZELEK SAID IN "HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN":  "When we were kids, we hated things our sisters did..."  Sisters were not cool and conversely, neither were little brothers.  For years, "Sixteen Stone" was "my sister's record" so I couldn't love it the same.  It made no sense and makes even less now, thinking back on it.  But, it was what it was.  Eventually, months and months later, I had badgered my sister enough that she gave me the CD.  Finally, it was mine!  Plus, she had to make room on her shelf for that hot, debut record from this up and coming band called Hanson...

Now that I finally owned the damn record, it was one of my favorites.  "Comedown," "Machinehead," "Little Things," "Everything Zen" and, of course, what quickly became my favorite song "Glycerine."  Again, watching MTV, I SAW THIS PERFORMANCE OF "GLYCERINE" and was never the same.  The second best performance on MTV after Nirvana's "Lithium" took place at MTV's Spring Break and was shot during a hurricane watch.  MTV told the band they needed to stop playing as the rains came pouring down.  They would be risking electrocution and it was unsafe to continue.  The band retreated to drier spaces but Gavin said "fuck it" and went back out for one more song.  You can tell during the performance, which even now brought a tear to my eye, that Gavin realizes the magnitude of this moment and how special this is, even sitting on a chord while the crowd slowly crescendos in appreciation.  It's a magical moment and I've never forgotten that.  To me, that's part of this album.  As are all the hours I spent trying to tape "Machinehead" and "Comedown," the disappointment of buying the wrong cassette, my sister buying this album so I couldn't (even though it made no difference since I had a taped copy and could borrow her copy), the album being one of my earliest introductions to music beyond classic rock, all of it is packed in there.

And none of that is to mention Gavin himself, who young Brad thought was the coolest guy on the planet.  I mean, that voice (I learned much later that he was English, I just thought he "sang cool").  Some years later while learning the guitar ("Glycerine" was the first song I ever learned), I was so disappointed to learn that my voice was not raspy and sexy like Gavin's.  It broke my heart.  I just wanted to sound like that.  I could get my Epiphone Les Paul Special II to sound kind of like his guitars sounded but my voice was so "clean."  I didn't understand why I couldn't sing like him.  Found the trick later in life (lots of bourbon, cigarettes and good old fashioned hard livin') and I've been pleased as punch that I can finally sound more like Gavin.  The other point of contention was his hair.  He had wavy hair and mine was Native American straight (damn you, genes!).  Also, he was handsome and I'm, well, pretty damn good looking but I'm not a model-looking muthafucker like Gavin.  Now, lyrically, I feel like I've got him since so many of his songs seemingly mean gobbledygook.  Now I'm sure, to him, this makes sense but here's the lyrics to one of my favorite songs off "Razorblade Suitcase," "A Tendency to Start Fires":

Strange zoo, strange blaze
Douse my head in flames
Coming through got to get some
Happiness is a bad son

Forceps, kitchen tools
Deconstruct your every move
Feels better when you're here
Guillotine just got here

Back bend, back break
Please yourself to make it rate
Live it all at your own cost
So many just got lost

Leaning to fire
Leaning to fire
Leaning to fire

Here's tomorrow man
Best of my ability
Chasing what I can
Here's tomorrow man

Umm... Yeah.  But, I can't tell you how many times I've screamed along to this song.  I just have no clue what any of that's supposed to mean, if anything at all.  It could be the Asperger's, as many lyrics that are metaphorical float over my head, but those don't seem like they fall into that category.  Anyhow, I'm nitpicking.  I love Gavin Rossdale and have idolized him since 1996.  His voice, his songs, his look; I mean, come on, look at this man:

Also hilarious, "The Fall of Apple."  But, the headline for Bush is so appropriate.  They never really got their due.

What brought all this Bush love on?  I heard the last verse of "Comedown" in the car the other day.  That's all it takes and it's such a sense memory that it enveloped and took over the next three days of my life.  I was Bush, Bush, Bush, and not in the fun, sexual way.  But, I'm so glad it happened.  Although, it did get me in a mid-nineties kind of way and dreaming of reruns of Wings, Caroline in the City, Newsradio, etc.  Good thing I own those shows on DVD...  Good times...

Vodka or video games... aka what the hell are you talking about?

Is there any video game better than Metal Gear Solid?  The answer is "yes."  It is called Metal Gear Solid 4 and Metal Gear Solid 5.  But, that's not what we are here to talk about.  Or, is it?  I'm not sure...  Wait, this is my fucking show and I can write about whatever the hell I feel like.  Like, for instance, that my favorite vodka is Belvedere (fucking pay me!  I'll drink and talk about your shit all day).  It's so tasty, in a martini or my favorite, by itself.  Sometimes, I even break my own rule (the only thing you mix/add to booze is MORE BOOZE) and drink it with some delicious La Croix pamplemousse.  I know, I know.  Apparently, hipster girls love La Croix.  Well, shit, I've loved fizzy water (yes, that's what it's called) for the past 15 years, which goes back to the beginning of hipsters, so fuck that.  Y'all can duck a sick...  Wait, what was I talking about?  Oh yeah, nothing...

But, as I watch MELON THE FELON PLAY MARIO 3, I realize that I didn't come here to talk about my favorite video games (Metal Gear Solid 4, Metal Gear Solid 5, Metal Gear Solid, Metal Gear Solid 3, Metal Gear Solid 2, Mario 3, in that order), but to talk about... well... OK, shit.  I don't have much to talk about as my Meniere's has been playing nice this week and I didn't have any Asperger's breakdowns.  Life's been good.  My back did go out and caused me to be unable to move for two hours, but that is doing OK these days.  But, fuck, I was in fucking agony.  It was an hour before I could even physically move an inch.  I laid on the living room floor (which needed a vacuuming for sure!) face down trying not to pass out from the pain.  I was hard of breath of few times because of it.  I tried to take some ibuprofen but hurt so bad I couldn't move my head enough to drink a gulp of water or throw back the ibuprofen.  Luckily, it only lasted like 4 hours, then I medicated and felt a lot better.  Like, could move around enough to go to bed.  Then, I woke up and decided that I was going to be better and did.  Or, it was a weird spasm thing and went away (well, I still feel it today but was able to do "normal people shit" like work, call people, eat food, walk around, poop, read the newspaper, drink wine, write a blog, play guitar, be sad, eat some cheese, with a Lactaid, of course, hire your PR company to promote your videos/tour, do some mixing on your solo record, mentally take stock of your vinyl and determine your next targets; you know, "normal people shit") once I drank a fuckload of water, took a fuckload of turmeric (anti-inflammatory) and slept a fuckload.  Either way...

My lucks gone down ever since I started playing basketball again a couple months ago when I got my HARDEN 2S.  Maybe a short (5'8" on a good day), half-white guy who can't jump (thanks Injun blood) isn't meant to blow up the court but still, it shouldn't ruin my body and ear.  Just a coincidence that I buy the shoes of a guy I'm not a fan of (he's fantastic as a player but I hate the Rockets offense) and suddenly my health goes to pot.  Or, I'm thinking of this way too much.

Speaking of too much, have been questioning my Asperger's a lot lately.  I know that I know things, but for some reason, I don't trust myself.  Not sure what happened but all of the sudden I can't make decisions and shit like I normally do.  It's fucked up for someone who is always sure of everything all the time always (30 ROCK, ANYONE?).  But, it could be the mercury retrograde hippie bullshit.  Or, I could just be adjusting to getting out of this nearly 3 month long Meniere's issue (clogged ear, intermittent dizziness/vertigo, increased tinnitus, vision problems, etc.) which is getting better due to my chiropractic visits and lame diet (low sodium, low sugar, low alcohol, low caffeine, small meals, no packaged/processed foods), at least that's what I believe.  And, that's really all the matters, right?

(dictated but not read)

Good times... Not now, but here's some shit from back in the day

So, coffee was a bad decision. Was coincidental that it helped for a few days. Not a long-term strategy. Turns out I needed to return to my more "natural strategies." Anyways, I went to a chiropractor who worked on my "cranial imbalance," whatever that means. But, it did help significantly with my ear. Not sure how, but she definitely knows her shit. I'm compressed in areas she says aren't good and that can be improved. God, I wish I understood this better and felt confident that I wasn't getting ripped off but I do feel better, so I have that going for me, which is nice...

Seeing as I still don't feel great (going on 3 months of this shit, but even I'm sick of hearing/reading myself talk about this bullshit Meniere's shit), I'm going to repost an old blog from back in the day... Enjoy as I'm struggling quite a bit. I'm pissed off and my Asperger's is not fucking making this easier. All I want to do is figure this out and fix it, but I can't do a goddamn thing... It's infuriating.

Outside of Meniere's and Asperger's, I recently did my taxes for last year and that made me sadface. Wish that I knew how to make more money at this shit than I currently do, but such is the life of an independent musician. I pay rent and have money for food, so I shouldn't complain too much, but I still do. Fuck it, I get to hate myself if I want to, that's my right. There's nothing more depressing than quantifying your artistic pursuits while presenting it to the government so they can give you some back because you don't make what they deem enough for someone of your stature. Sadface again...

Anyways, here you go, Bradley from back in the day (aka a few years ago):

This Old House and various other amusing things…

So, I was initially going to try and make a slightly less angry and much more thoughtful blog, but that got sidetracked right off the bat. This morning, right as I was ready to leave for band rehearsal, I had to poop. Normally, I would squeeze it in and just head out but it felt like one of those “eight thirty in the morning,” “quick and light” shits. It was not. I hate being blindsided by my own bodily functions. It threw my whole morning off kilter. Now, I was fifteen minutes behind schedule, had to carry my guitar eight blocks in the rain to my car, which some drunken asshole, presumably a fucking Timbers fan, had decided to kick multiple times and put several dents in my drivers side door for which I now have to call the fucking cops about(there was a police officers business card on my window, I don’t know); and, worst of all, I still had not had a cup of coffee. I currently have a pretty nice headache from my lack of caffeine intake this morning but that’s my problem I guess. And so is the pooping and the door dents. Well, not really the dents unless you count living in sort of shitty neighborhood my fault. But anyway, there goes the less angry and more thoughtful. I now want to punch a person that I have never met, in the back of the head, Homer-style, for kicking my fucking car and have already mentioned bowel movements. Hot dog, we’re off and running… But, on a more positive note, I just found out that the entire series of “Duckman”is on YouTube. So, peaks and valleys. Some people go out and have fun with other human beings on a Saturday night. Others have no money, hate everybody anyways, sit at home and watch “Duckman.” I, sadly, and to my girlfriends dismay, fall into the latter category…

What I wanted to talk about, before the unexpectedly large shit and the door dents, was memories. Specifically, their subjective nature and the romance that we, as imperfect humans, project onto them. So, where might a thought like that come from? Well, if you’ll be patient, I’ll tell you. Last night, I was getting drunk and playing guitar(one of my favorite hobbies) and started playing some songs I haven’t played in a while. Songs that I had written that never really made the cut or songs that the band hasn’t played in a while; which is most of them. BWC(Bradley Wik and the Charlatans, for the uninformed) has been busy getting ready to record our second full-length album, tweaking and obsessing over the same twelve or so songs for the past two or three months. It’s fun… If you could see my face, it would reveal the necessary Seinfeld-like look intended and widely used for indicating sarcasm. But, in all seriousness, it isn’t all terrible. It is kind of fun to see how far you can push a song before it sounds stupid and you throw out all the changes that you just spent six hours pursuing and implementing. Its all part of the process for people like us. That is to say, people too neurotic and anal to just leave it alone without first proving that any other way is just terrible(see: Billy Joel’s alternate, “Reggae” version of “Only the Good Die Young.” Just thinking about it gives me the shivers). Basically, that’s been our band rehearsals for a while now. And, because of that, we haven’t played hardly any of the old songs in a long time. So, I dusted some of them off last night and played “This Old House” for the first time in months. I forgot how good of a song it was. Man, I’m so fucking talented. So wise and full of insight as well. I was so taken aback with myself that when I finished, I paused for a moment of reflection. You want to know the first thought that popped into my head? Probably not, but I’ll tell you. I immediately thought of that episode of Wings, also entitled “This Old House,” where Brian and Joe find out that the house they grew up in is about to be demolished. They go through the myriad of emotions that a lot of us do when confronting a large block of memories all at once. It’s a really good episode. Brian and Joe’s first reaction is to be angry that the house is being torn down, regardless of the fact that the soil around it is eroding and soon the house will plunge into the ocean. Their next thoughts are of all the good times and happy memories they shared there. They, along with Helen, their childhood friend, decide to take a cooler of beer and head to the house to reminisce and pay their final respects. After a few beers and some good memories, the boys head upstairs to their childhood room. Within a few minutes of talking about how much they love and miss the old place, they quickly realize that they also had a lot of terrible memories at the house as well. From trying to sleep through parental arguments to the eventual divorce of their mom and dad and so on and so forth, they slowly see that they also hate this place. They then decide to start the demolition of the old house on their own. The cathartic smashing of the house allows them to keep only the memories they want to and let the rest fall into the sea with the decrepit, abandoned house. But the joke is on the Hacketts because Fay, unbeknownst to Brian and Joe, and clearly for our amusement as the watcher, has convinced the historical society that the house be preserved as a landmark, forcing them to deal with their anger towards it and all the bad memories it encompasses. That’s a lot of bang for your buck in a scant twenty or so minutes of network television.

On a personal note, it was not even one year ago, so it’s still quite fresh in my mind, that the bank repossessed the house that I grew up in from my mom. I have to say, I went through the same series of emotions as the Hacketts. The anger, the fond reminiscing and eventually wanting to destroy the house with my own hands. Unfortunately, I did not get the pleasure of smashing the house to bits nor do I have the satisfaction of knowing that it will soon fall into the sea. The hardest part of going back to the house was knowing that it would be the last time that I would. It’s nice to be able to keep those chapters of your life open because sometimes you need the comfort of nostalgia and the remembrance of simpler times. I lost that. And I miss it. I really do. And, since the house still stands, whenever I go back to visit Wisconsin I see it; and I still remember all the bad stuff. When I was going through all the old shit that I had left there, I found a bunch of old notebooks wherein I had written terrible song after terrible song, from when I was still trying to figure out how to write a song that wasn’t a total piece of shit. Needless to say, almost every song was a complete failure on that end. There are only a few songs that I wrote in High School that aren’t completely unlistenable. But, as I flipped through the pages, I noticed how much sixteen to eighteen year old Bradley hated living in the tiny, redneck town he grew up in. The anger, the depression and so on was hard to read. I wanted it all to disappear. I wanted to remember it differently. I might’ve thrown out all those old notebooks, but the house is still there as a reminder of it all. Slowly, as an adult, I have begun to accept and appreciate the childhood that I had. After all, a lot of kids aren’t allowed to spend entire days going wherever they want, doing whatever they want with no adult supervision. We left the house in the morning and didn’t come home until supper and then went back out til the streetlights came on. Not too many of the people I know now were afforded the same luxury as kids. The places they grew up didn’t allow for that. So I got that going for me, which is nice. Hopefully, one day I’ll be able to reconcile the bad with the good and realize I quite enjoyed my childhood. Or, at the very least, call it a wash. I don’t know, however, if I’ll ever be okay with my teenage years. But, then again, who is… Also, since we’re on the topic of going back to the shitty towns we grew up in, I recently re-watched “Young Adult” and somehow, as if by magic, I have some pertinent thoughts on that as well. God, it’s weird how this shit comes together… I must be a fucking genius or something… On a side note, I’ve realized there are actually three types of people in the world: those who go out and have fun with other human beings on a Saturday night, those who have no money, hate everybody anyways, sit at home and watch “Duckman,” AND those who have no money, hate everybody anyways, sit at home and learn how to play “All for Leyna” between episodes of “Duckman.” I, sadly, and to my girlfriends dismay, fall into the latter of the latter categories… The last one… If you couldn’t tell, I’m going through a bit of a Billy Joel phase… Anyways, Young Adult…

This is a very strange subject for me. There are a lot of conflicting emotions and thought processes happening all at once. Most of the time, I’m not quite sure how to feel about it. There’s a lot going on. But let’s see if we can sort it out. First off, there’s my fairly intense hatred of Diablo Cody. I watched Juno for the sole purpose of being able to make fun of it and the people who like it. People always like to throw it back in your face if you haven’t actually seen the movie. I always hear “How can you hate it if you haven’t even seen it?” Which, is dumb. I know what I like and what I hate by now. I’ve refined my Tick-like abilities to sense this shit as it happens. Also, I wonder why whenever I think of an annoying person they always have a Long Island accent. “When is Jerry going to see the baby…” Anyways, with Juno sucking so much, I was unsure of how to proceed with Young Adult. I liked the blurb on Netflix. It sounded like a movie I would probably watch. It was depressing enough. It was set in the Midwest. The character was going back to the shit town she grew up in. And, best of all, it had Charlize Theron in it. BUT, it was written by Diablo Cody. So, that was all kind of a wash. Then, I saw Patton Oswalt was in it and that intrigued me. Now, I’ve never watched him do his standup, but I have seen him in a number of things that I like and he was always funny. I’m talking about Reno 911 as the weird, nerdy guy, Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee as the weird, nerdy guy, King of Queens as the weird, nerdy guy… So, what the hell. At the very least, if it sucks, and I mean sucks my dead grandfather’s hairy, German nutsack, it’ll at least add to my arsenal of Diablo Cody-themed hatred…

But, it really wasn’t that bad. In fact, I might even venture to say it’s pretty good. Not great, mind you; let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It made fun of the fake superiority people gain when they leave a small town for a big city. It poked fun at the notion that those people still living there would have to be miserable while everyone who got out is so much happier; which is also not true. Most people who leave places for other places seeking happiness are doomed to fail. Happiness is not a place, nor can it be found in one. Now, to be sure, this rule does not apply to people who are being discriminated against, in shitty towns across this great country. Like where I’m from, that would be a gay person or anyone whose skin is not white. In that case, leaving is definitely the right move and they will certainly be happier almost anywhere else. But the happiness that most people crave, when they leave a place in search of it, is usually a happiness that they have denied themselves. I’ve found this out the hard way. I’ve put my theoretical “happiness” in a “lock box” where the only way in is the loosely-defined “musical success.” It’s tortured me for years. I’m slowly, again, as I get older, beginning to reconcile this with my actual life and what’s happening to me. Believe it or not, I’ve actually become less bitter and angry over the years. My girlfriend has a lot to do with that. I’ve found a lot of lost happiness in her and the way she makes me feel about me. It’s nice. Hopefully, someday, that will be all happiness that I need… Whew, and all this from a Diablo Cody-penned flick. Who would have thought? But the major takeaway from the film was that hardly any truly shitty people get what’s coming to them. Even after Charlize Theron’s character was terrible to everyone that she came in contact with and was beaten down and hating herself, as she should, Charlize’s character still gets an esteem boost from Patton’s character’s sister. Patton’s character’s sister tells Charlize’s character that she is a good person and that they sort of idolize her back in the shit town; and Charlize’s character gets to not hate herself as much as she should. Which is, oftentimes, the way things work out in real life. It’s bullshit and I should really pay more attention to character names in movies… Also, I really want to punch the asshole who kicked my car in the back of the head. I’m kind of obsessed with that. Oh, right, I’m less angry and shit. This is my “less angry” and “more thoughtful” blog.

Kidneys or coffee... aka that is the question

Well, I think my two car accidents may have exacerbated this stupid fucking Meniere's.  They (and by they I mean "doctors") would like for me to take water pills for the rest of my life.  They say the diuretics will help stabilize and remove fluids from my body, including my ear.  Well, brilliant.  But guess what was the number one thing I gave up after the car accidents?  I'll tell you because otherwise you may never know as you don't live inside my fucking head, thank God, for you.  It's coffee.  After the accidents, and during the concussions, I gave up coffee.  Caffeine really messed with me and gave me (what I now know as) light vertigo and nausea.  So, I figured, why not just continue to not drink any caffeine or coffee, despite my previous love for it; up to five or six cups per day.  Guess what caffeine/coffee is?  A natural diuretic.  Holy shit!  What if instead of taking fucking water pills that may or may not damage my kidneys long term, I could just start drinking coffee, which I love, again?  Are you fucking kidding me?  But, it sounds good in theory, but would it work?

I'll tell you what, early signs are great.  I could barely sleep last night because my ear was so plugged up that the ringing in my ears was like a goddamn alarm clock all night.  I woke up and it was worse than it had been for days.  I could barely stand up without feeling woozy.  Then, I had a cup of coffee.  Then, another.  Soon, I was back on the phone/email doing some work.  I barely noticed it at first but suddenly I had to catch myself.  I felt 75% better.  I could still notice some "plugged-ness" in my ear but my balance was once again perfect.  I could drive no problem.  I could talk to people and not feel like I was going to fall down or throw up.  It was amazing.  I know, it's not a perfect solution as caffeine can aggravate my Meniere's but, guess what?  WHO GIVES A FUCK!  I don't want to ruin my kidneys to help with my ear.  The hearing and dizziness is a pain in the ass but without kidneys, it's lights out.  Plus, they said the average person has Meniere's for 10 years, but that's because muthafuckers usually die as Meniere's mainly affects old people.  I'm not signing up for 30 years of pills assholes.  I'm just fucking not.  I have a more natural way to help with the dizzies and I think I may have found a natural reason I was keeping this shit at bay for so many years.  So, praise be to Maxwell's House!  CHECK THIS SONG OUT IF YOU HAVEN'T HEARD IT (of course, if I don't tell you what it is, then how the hell would you know if you've already heard it?  Well, I'll give you a hint:  it's an old blues song by one of my favorite finger-pickers.  OK, that may not be a good enough hint.  Just click the fucking link you would've already seen what it is versus reading all my nonsense and trying to figure it out from vague-ass clues.  It's almost pointless unless you know me, rough.  Seriously, why are you still reading?  I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore...)

Good luck, and Goodnight.

Who's got Meniere's? aka I've got Meniere's...

Sitting here, watching MelonTheFelon PLAY OLD MARIO GAMES ON TWITCH (follow if you like games like Super Mario Bros. 3, Super Mario World, etc.), I can't help but think of... well, nothing; and, that's kind of the point.  Turns out I have Meniere's Disease.  Yay!  Wait, fuck that.  Needless to say, not a fun week.  I spent most of the week in bed or on the couch listening to the news (so soothing as they have the same stories over and over and over, and, as long as you're not watching Fox News or Hardball with Chris Matthews where they fucking yell a lot, it's easy to fall asleep to needless overanalyzing of everything despite the fact that maybe once in a while we could circle back to some stories like, oh, I don't know, how our fellow countrymen and women in Puerto Rico are doing, how are the Florida/Texas recovery efforts going, why it's so simple for people to buy assault rifles, what's going on in the investigation of the Vegas shootings and what's being done to make sure it never happens again, same with Parkland, etc., you get it).  Luckily, I've found some natural remedies for the dizziness, headaches, hearing issues, etc.  Otherwise, I would have been more miserable.  Miserabler?  Sure, that.  I get roughly 30-60 minutes every couple hours to try and get anything done before I fill miserabler again.  Anyways, since I'm still not 100%, or even anywhere remotely fucking close to that, I don't think I'll ramble on too long tonight.  Do have an MRI tomorrow to look forward to...

(dictated but not read)

same shit, different week...

Remember last week when I felt like shit due to my inner ear issue?  Well, take that and add headaches, slight vision blurriness, a lack of energy and increased nausea...  Going to see a specialist in a couple days.  Hopefully, they will have something for me that can help with this bullshit...

You know doctors can't seem to figure out? Bon Jovi cures all...

So, you know when the doctor asks if you are allergic to any medications?  Well, I finally get to say "You betcha" in my best Tina Fey-impression-of-Sarah-Palin voice.  Not sure I'm excited about this fact but it'll make my (very few) doctors visits more interesting.  I am not a fan of doctors.  More often than not they just recommend to take some pills and go away.  My best example was when I was having repeated extreme acid reflux/ulcers, that were most likely stress and *cough* diet (or lack thereof or something...) related and they told 26 year old me to take a prescription heartburn medication each morning.  I said "For how long?"  They said "Probably everyday."  I again said, "But for how long?"  They said "From now on."  So, for the next 25-50 years I am supposed to just keep taking drugs that I may or may not need?  Needless to say, I was not very kind to them and the whole exchange ended with "Well, do whatever you want," as the doctor walked out the door.  I've never taken a fucking heartburn pill since and never had that issue again...  Turns out I was right the whole fucking time and cutting back on a few things (alcohol, cigarettes, stress, actually eating something beyond turkey sandwiches, tortilla chips and eggs and, some other things) and I've not had an issue since.  I was twice hospitalized with this condition (didn't pay for either trip to the ER's plus the overnight stays.  Tip to the young folks, find a private Catholic hospital as they have funding for poor people that come in and let them know you were raised Catholic and feel more comfortable in a hospital that acknowledges the Lord...  Trust me, it works...) and I figured it out my damn self.  Just like everything else in my life.  Doctors rarely give enough fucks to dig deep and figure this shit out.

Which, brings me back to my newfound drug allergy.  I have an inner-ear issue I've probably had since I was in my early twenties.  I've had degenerative hearing loss in my right ear which started out very slight and now is quite noticeable when compared to my left ear.  I used to barely hear a difference and think I was inventing it with my brain but not anymore.  It's also coincided with a rise in tinnitus in that same ear.  Again, I assumed this was due to many years of playing Rock N' Roll with very few years of wearing ear plugs.  Dumb as fuck, I know, but whatever.  It makes a difference to me and I can't sing for dick with ear plugs in.  I know, I'm not fucking Jeff Buckley with them out (or with them in, bada-bing! Sex joke...) but it makes a difference, trust me. 

This inner-ear issue was goddamn Fast and Furious style nitro-boosted after getting in two car accidents last year.  Both times I was rear-ended while at a red light and both times dealt with whiplash and a concussion.  Concussions are no joke and turns out if you've had one (or four or five) as a kid, they are way worse as an adult.  The second one lasted basically three fucking months, and, was timed perfectly with the release of my new album "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." so I missed the release and was unable to make any music videos/release singles to promote the record.  Not ideal when launching a record but God had other plans, I guess.  After reading some more shit on inner-ear conditions like Meniere's disease, turns out whiplash is a common trigger or can aggravate this condition.  It most certainly has.  I've now seen three doctors for essentially the same issue (clogged ear, balance/vision issues) and one said it was because of an allergy, one said result of a cold and the last one said there's some fluid from an infection that will dry up and I'll be fine, even after I mentioned this is the third time I've dealt with a similar issue in the past year.  She said there's a possibility it's Meniere's but it's highly unlikely since it's a rare condition.  Well, it's probably a rare condition since I've seen a doctor three times for the same thing and they still haven't even really entertained the idea.  They never diagnose it so it's rare.  Just like Autism/Asperger's was until they finally started to figure out how to diagnose it.  And, even now, I've met at least ten to fifteen people who have never been diagnosed who definitely live on the spectrum.

Oh yeah, my drug allergy.  It's a bit ironic that the drug that is supposed to help with dizziness, nausea and vertigo fucks with my eyes (lost my near-sightedness, which is scary as fuck since I'm heavily near-sighted, like almost fucking blind unless things are within four inches of my face with my contacts out/glasses off) and stomach (making me slightly nauseous not hungry) and, just for kicks, gave me a rash on the front and back of my torso.  Needless to say, it did not help...  I'm currently looking at natural, legal (at least in the NW) alternatives that are supposed to help.  So far, the information is promising...

Sadly, both Asperger's and Meniere's increase anxiety and depression.  So, in other words, not cool bro.  I'm still holding out hope that my ear issues are only temporary, though, based on the past six to twelve months, that is not the case.  But, maybe, it could...

Anyways, how about some good news?  Well, here you go:  we live in a world where a band called Bon Jovi made a record called "New Jersey" which has one of the greatest side-As (side-B gets a little hit and miss...) in the history of the world.  I mean, "LAY YOUR HANDS ON ME," "BAD MEDICINE" (fucking Sam Kinison, right?!) AND "BLOOD ON BLOOD" all on one side??  Come the fuck on.  How are we supposed to compete with that?  Now, while I don't compare women to a heroin habit, I'd argue side-A of "In My Youth, I'm Getting Old..." is pretty fucking good too.  "LOOKIN' AT LUCKEY," "LET'S GO OUT TONIGHT" AND "DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY" are pretty rockin' tunes as well.  OK, maybe not Bon Jovi level, but some of us don't do enough cocaine for that kind of shit...

Anywhosal, have a great night/day/afternoon, whatever the fuck it is for y'all...

(still not 100% from the vertigo/inner-ear issue so, once again, dictated but not read)