Hi-Brow + Low-Brow = Uni-Brow

I can't imagine that anyone who used to check in on this page might randomly check in and happen to see a new post after all this time. This is like internet ruins. When I really get the itch to write something and share it, I've tended to make it a note and paste it on Facebook but as my friend list has expanded I've started pulling my punches and tend to keep it PG-13 and bipartisan.

And that's no fuckin fun.

I have friends - people I love, who believe strange and unwholesome things and just don't feel like tangling in that shit. When my friend list was six people I posted some very aggressive posts but now that I've got church ladies and kids and angry republican dudes on my list I tend to just fly the inane one-liner and every time I post anything I wonder what kind of histrionic pathology drives me to do so and if I'm really just pestering people. I guess the absence of the face-to-face thing allows for a lot of projection and imagination to fill the gaps.

That perceptual gap reminds me of how I thought show biz worked before I got to LA. I'd spent 15 years in NYC doing show biz type activities and thought I had some sort of grip on how the thing worked. I had friends on TV and friends writing TV and occasionally I even wrote for TV or was on TV. But from my Manhattan apartment, when I looked West to the place I thought of as The Place Where All Those Shitty Movies and TV Shows Come From I had a mind filled with what turned out to be pure horseshit.

Within about six months of being here most of my delusions had been removed. I'm working on the rest. I can't actually see what they are as I am still in the throes of them but have some dark hunches as to what they might be. If they're half as shocking as the previous ones, I'm in for a ride.

I'm disinclined to say what those lessons were. If you come to LA, you will learn them quickly and if you don't, it's probably best that you don't. I'll just say that it appears that what I thought was going on was nowhere near what was actually going on. And that's not all bad news at all. It's both better and worse than I thought.

I can't ever see going back to NYC. I miss my friends. I miss how easy it was to socialize - to see and do shows. I wish I could have spent more time as an auxiliary police officer.

But I'm done with NYC. I do miss it but I have a hunch the NYC I miss isn't there anymore. In fact I know it's not. I can't do humidity anymore. I can't do a non-air-conditioned 6 train again. I can't do the noise any more and I can't tolerate that much contact with my fellow human beings any more. I don't do crowds well any more. Too much stimuli. I overload. And in NYC I was on overload all the time, round the clock. And I will never, ever, ever in my life get over the phenomenon of people honking their car horns at the garbage man. What in the world was their expectation? Did they think the Sanitation guys would think "Oh, on second thought, let's NOT pick up the garbage on 26th street today because THAT GUY is in a hurry. Sorry guy, we didn't know you were in a hurry. We'll be on our way."

I wouldn't mind living someplace more manageable / livable. The thing that will drive me out of LA is the driving - or rather the other drivers. I've seen some truly exotic driving since I've been out here - aggressive and stupid to astonishing degrees. My pal Sue says that Angelenos are good drivers, it's the transports who are bad drivers. I don't know how she gathered that data. Angelenos or not, the people in cars, driving on Los Angeles roads are a menace. It's difficult to get places in LA. Driving and parking. I'm getting more used to it but am still inclined to give in to my agoraphobia and stay in or just walk as far as the Silver Spoon diner. Luckily the Spoon is a great, hopping scene. There's rumors afoot of it's possible sale. I hope they overhaul the menu and stay a diner. I have this image of staying in my current apartment and living my current life forever. That never happens. Everything changes constantly, even when it appears to be standing still. For example, I used to be a vegan and now I'm going to Fuddruckers in the Century City mall to get a turkey burger.

This post proves one thing - I can type. Sorta.

It's been a really long time since I posted.

I have nothing to say. I just wanted to see if I could guess my own password. It's all become a little fuzzy with the google password and all that.

I've been all about the facebook lately, but thougt I'd dust the cobwebs off blogger.

I think status updates on facebook are turning people into better writers. Like a haiku, it demands an economy of words that would benefit most any blog, including mine.

I've been a facebook fiend since discovering it. But it's worth remembering that even though it feels a little like socializing, it really isn't. And it feels like writing but it really isn't.

Writing and socializing are both things I need to do more of.

Facebook does help alleviate a sense of isolation that's developed since moving to LA. LA is not good if you've got a bit of agoraphobia, or a shitload of it.

I lived in Manhattan for fifteen years and it really rattled me. It's just too much stimuli. LA is better but it's still a lot. I've never lived as an adult anyplace other than these preposterously large cities and I often fantasize about living in a more human-scaled city. I'd like to try that some time.

I've got nothing to add on the election, I think I said everything I've got to say in my snarky status updates on FB.

All I've really got is that I've decided that idiots are toxic and I need to limit my exposure to them. I had to listen to that Sarah Palin - who is a world class moron. But for the time being, I don't have to listen to her inane bullshit anymore so I'm going to try to avoid idiots as much as possible. It's bad for the soul.

I've taken to pruning the trees around my apartment building and it's been the best thing. Physical activity, genuine aesthetics and having to work around and with both nature and her wisdom and the previous gardeners who have pruned those trees with no wisdom.

I'm feeling like I'm in a liminal zone. Whatever the previous lives I've led are over and some sort of new chapter is starting but I don't what it is and can't actually picture it.

I do feel that profound and some ways delicious agitation I tend to get right before I DO SOMETHING.

... oh yes they do, yummy yummy cock, yum yum they love it, yes they do ...

... this whole Craig thing has illuminated the republican outrage over the Monica Lewinsky thing for me ... the deal is that blowjobs are OK for male politicians as long as they're *giving* them ...

Republicans
restoring dignity to Washington
...one men's room stall at a time

... You know that ship that sunk off the coast of Greece?

... My dad was on it!

... He's fine.

... He and his wife have their passports, he has his wallet and his camera -- with good pictures of the sinking I'm told and that's it.

They were unable to purchase more clothes cuz they're in Rome and it's Easter. So they're called "the stinky survivors."

While on the ship that picked them up, there as an announcement from the Greek government assuring any and all help needed and telling any Greek citizens who to contact if they had any questions or conderns. Then there was a similar announcement from the Spanish ambassador. Then silence. Nothing from the United States embassy. My uncle Don, who was relating the story to me, said that swift boat asshole they just confirmed as an ambassador must have been sent to Greece.

I was in line getting my lunch before I went in to work, when someone yelled that an old man had fallen and split his head open. I put my stuff on the counter and said I'd be back.

When I got there, security and valet services had already stood him up and leaned him against a podium. They had also already called 911. I checked him out, asked him some questions. Someone got him a chair, so I helped him into it. I asked him a few more questions and got a closer look at his wounds. I told him he was probably fine, but that we'd let the fire department have a look at him and that they'd probably rule out anything serious, clean him up, put dressings on and send him on his way.

I stayed with him until the fire department got there, gave them a quick report, and was on my way.

Here's the thing, this was very basic, first-responder type stuff. I've given care at about this same level before, but for the first time, I was really confident about it. For the first time I was certain I was asking the right questions and doing the right things. It was so comforting to confidently move down a flow chart in my mind, ruling things out as I went.

Head wounds are dramatic, they bleed a lot, so folks were sparking out a bit and kinda talking at him. Within a couple questions I was feeling pretty confident I'd ruled out anything critical and knew I was most likely dealing with a dramatic but inconsequential situation. I kept my eye on him to see if any of that changed. If he were a young guy, it probably would have been clean him, dress the wounds and send him on his way, but he appeared to be in his 70s at least. Old guy's gotta get checked out.

So it's not so much that I feel like Mr. Big Pants for having EMT training but it's just that just yesterday I was thinking "what the hell did I do all that for?" and today I feel like it was well worth it. Like I said it was relatively minor. A Red Cross First Aid course would have been sufficient but the EMT training and experience, if nothing else, let me be the calm guy asking the right questions and keeping the patient calm. People are always gonna get hurt, and I'm always going to want to help and now I'm so glad I have just a little bit more knowledge and experience.

What I really try to remember is that I don't actually know shit about shit and focus on the basics -- scene safety, airway, breathing, circulation and then keep a close eye on all of the above.

And if you're going to come in late to work, coming in with blood on you goes a long way towards squelching a lot of questions about it.

every time I went to log in I read some shit about new blogger and google account and whatnot and I clicked away in a cloud of "whatever" but, yeah it turns out, if you actually read it, it made sense

here's the thing ... I moved ...

same apartment building, just upstairs to a larger space

Here's what I learned:
It's easier to move across town than it is to move up two flights of stairs
Not only are there nine types of vinegar, we need all nine of them

Right outside our window is a loquat tree. Lots of suirrels and crows are attracted to that tree, as are cats and spiders and one of my neighbors eats them too. I heard a noisy and unfamiliar bird in that tree the other morning, I had a closer look, expecting it to be one of the usual suspects, but it was bright, almost fluorescent green. There was a parrot in the tree outside my window! Or a parakeet, whatever, I'm not sure, not the piratey looking bird but the little green one. I had read about these feral parrot/parakeet colonies in San Francisco and Glendale. That evening he came back with a little friend.

Parrots!