As I mentioned previously, my gas got turned off. I'm moving soon, so I've been getting my house ready to be sold. Part of that includes turning on the gas again so that the inspector can make sure everything's fine.
At noon a knock lands upon my door. I open it and see a towering black man standing in the doorway. He's at least six feet tall, at least four feet wide, and is wearing a hard hat. A grin spreads across his face.
"It's the LOOOOOVEEE DOCCCTORR!!" he proclaims.
He remembers me from last time I didn't pay my gas bill. I remember him, too. He told me stories about housewives seducing him as he turned their gas back on. It was fascinating.
As he walks around the house on his way to the water heater, heater, and gas meter he keeps singing one line.
"It's hard out here for a piiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmp".
It's a line from the mediocre movie, Hustle and Flow. After lighting the water heater he stares into space for a second. He snaps back.
"Hey. I wrote a song for R Kelly. I don't know how to get it to him or anything. You want to hear it?"
Of course I do. He sings it and it's actually really good. Even more impressive, it SOUNDS like an R. Kelly song. We chat a little more and I offer to make him a CD with my songs on it. He sees my microphone and asks if I record here. Yes. Can he come by some time and record? Sure. He agrees to record a chorus or two for my songs.
Later I go to have dinner with Evan and she mentions that she owns half of a booking agency. An hour later she texts me that she can get me a gig at a number of really cool venues here in Austin.
How cool is that? Any Austinites who read this can come see me rap live. I just have to make some more songs first. Best of all, I'm going to invite the gas guy, a.k.a. Roller Coaster, to sing with me.
I just talked with Ty, he'll be at "Tambaleo tonight doing Krunkaoke". So, go support your favorite blogger at Tambaleo tonight "11ish".
Do you like the taste of juicy organic apples from Washington? They're not bad, but they could taste sweeter if each one didn't involve a cup of gasoline.
I think what Ben is trying to say is:
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo
When you have the talent, you just need a break. Don't let this one slip man, it could be your only one.
I'm friends with someone who owns a studio here in the UK, but unfortunately for me, my rapping skills are as follows: www.myspace.com/rapmasteruk.
You have any mp3s kicking around we can hear?
Sounds like big things are happening for you, Ty. You deserve it.
In an earlier post, you mentioned having a gun. I'm looking to buy a pistol and was wondering what your careful buying brought you to. What do you think is the best out there?
Since Krunkaoke got shut down, I go to Rain every Wednesday. It's a gay club that does Karaoke on Wednesday nights. They have a good selection of songs, a cool light up stage, and a laid back attitude towards me including "nigga" in all of my songs. The downside is that I get hit on / groped by gay guys, but I can deal with it.
I get home at 1am and I check on my fish. They've had tail rot on and off for the past few months. I've put hundreds of dollars of medicine in the tank trying to fix them, as well as adjusting their food and cleaning the tank and doing more frequent water changes. When I moved to my new place they got a lot better, but have since gotten worse.
I noticed that one of the black tetras was doing really badly this morning. His fins had all but distenegrated and he couldn't swim properly. It was really sad - he was the only remaining fish from the first group that my friend gave me. It seems dumb to get attached to fish, but I really love them.
My job is mostly to hold the flashlight. Sometimes I'll cut things - mostly straight -and I'll do a lot of holding of things. My name is Mike, and I can't fix much of anything.
This is may not be entirely true. I might have an average fixing ability but both my father and father-in-law are engineers so it seems like they've fixed everything. They also come from a generation that seems like it's able to do things. To fix things and make them better. To know how to ground an electrical wire, hang a ceiling fan, change belts on cars. That's what these guy do, it's what they've always done.
What I've always done is listen to music. A few days ago the Eve 6 song Inside Out came on the radio and I did what any other person my age would do. I turned it up (while quickly trying to think if there were any parts of the song that were inappropriate for the kids in the back seat). Inside Out was released in 1998 and isn't a very good song. It's a good representation of songs that were out in 1998 but it would be considered about average. I wasn't average though, I was 16 and in the prime years of building the library of songs I liked.
Metallica, Hunger, Eve 6, CCR, Springsteen. These were the bands that I was growing to love because I was able to drive and listen to the radio as loudly as I wanted. Fast forward to 2004 or rewind to 1992 and none of the song equivalents to Inside Out would get me to pause while channel surfing the radio. 1997-2004 were my music building years where I cataloged my favorite songs. I can develop new favorites - John Prine's Paradise is a recent example - but I don't add to my list often.
In my teens and earlier twenties I developed a taste for music, in my late twenties and thirties I built my fix it library. Inch by inch and mistake my mistake I'm slowly learning all the things my fathers know because that's how they did it. My paternal grandfather was another engineer, running his own construction company and my father in-law's father put on countless roofs and fixed countless homes. For both of these men their chief helpers were their oldest children - my fathers. They spent longer crafting their abilities to fix things but for as wizardly as they are they, they were still novices once.