Archive for November, 2014

Manure

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Music, True Stories with tags on November 1, 2014 by dissectingthefetalpig

I like listening to music. It’s absolutely my most favorite thing to do, second only to ejaculation. And sometimes I try to figure out ways to combine the two. God I love that.

My favorite way to listen to music is when I am alone. I eat it and absorb it with as little disturbance as possible. I’ve mulled over things a little and hands down, my favorite way to listen music is when I am on the subway. If I am a little stoned and have a cup of coffee in hand I am probably on the verge of sheer bliss. I actually get a little bummed out when I have to travel with company because it means I can’t listen to music.

But even then, that’s ok, because I also like to watch. I can’t stay focused on the train because I am always looking at or for weird things. I love weird things. I love noticing the flaws,odd characteristics, nervous ticks, and everything in-between.  Got a weird mole?  I want to see it. You blink 5 times every few seconds?  I think that’s cool.  You’re a hot girl who has an extremely fuzzy upper lip?  Amazing!  Creepy old man?  I love you.  Full on homeless lunatic who is actually reading Nietzsche?  I even love you too.  I have a terrible curiosity and I am also very observant.

Sure, I like other things a lot too. I have a strong appreciation for art and can be artistic. I like food and have knack for cooking as well. Cinema and video games eat up a lot of my time and I obviously enjoy literature as well, but my meat and potatoes is music. God damn if I don’t love a good song!  And I can be severely judgmental about other people’s taste in music. It’s a major character flaw.

Prior to rocking out on the subway I used to like listening to music in bed. It helps me fall asleep. It’s a bad habit that always leaves me in fear of strangling myself to death. I’ve damaged many a good pair of headphones doing this and I am pretty sure it has driven every woman I have ever had a serious relationship with batshit crazy. I’m sorry about that but I can’t help it either.

I started listening to music at night with my headphones on when I was a real little kid. My Pop had bought me a little boom-box when I was about 5 or so. I was stoked about it. It was my favorite thing in the entire world. I still think about it all the time. It was a silver two speaker and one cassette AM/FM Panasonic boom box. I would tape the shit out of songs on the radio. I tuned in to all sorts of radio shows and developed a wide appreciation for music almost instantly.

Money was tight with my folks back then so I would sometimes have to figure out what songs I could tape over and what tapes would have to get erased and then reused. I remember i found a case of self help cassettes and felt like I won the lottery as it meant I had more cassettes to tape over. I had even gotten good at repairing cassettes and I could even re-splice the tape if need be. I would make these bomb ass mix tapes when I finally got a double deck. I still make mixes to this day. It’s a terrible hobby and I become a perfectionist about it sometimes which can make small projects into a 3 Cd affair. I tend to make mixes to motivate me in some way or to help me sleep. When I was a kid my parents would fight a lot and I would want to drown it all out. My old man had a hell of a temper back then. I figured rather than getting worked up over some dark outcome with all the commotion I could just put up a wall of sound and let go. I could just tune out reality completely. I didn’t like reality then. I generally don’t like reality now and have a very difficult time dealing with it. This has oftentimes lead me down some very dark roads. Listening to music has become a way for me to keep grounded. It’s very important to me.

I have my father to thank for getting me into music. He also had an appreciation for music. His favorite music ritual was to drive as fast as humanly possible while blaring Deep Purple. He had a thing for “My Woman From Tokyo” and “Mississippi Queen” if I remember correctly. He schooled me on lot of really cool shit in those rides. Black Sabbath, The Doors, Blue Cheer, Rolling Stones, Genesis when Peter Gabriel sang for them, The Police, Amon Duul, Yes, Soft Machine, Edgar Winter, Alvin Lee & Ten Years After, Mountain, King Crimson, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, ZZ Top and even motherfuckin’ Barry White where some of the gems my Pop’s was holding. He also had a thing for lecturing me on those rides. It felt like he was always down my throat for some shit. Never happy. Never satisfied. So I’d say “fuck it” and tune him out. It would drive him ape when he realized I wasn’t paying attention and he’d turn off the radio. Then it was only a matter if time before he’d cave in and turn it back on and then it became the game of exchanging daggers with glances. We never did see much eye to eye. He also hated that I fell asleep with headphones on. I think he may have even planted that seed of fear that I have about strangling myself someday if I continue with my reckless ways.

It’s kind of funny how something so beautiful, much like a flower, can have it’s roots so deeply embedded in shit, isn’t it?

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