Jim Trainer

Dispatch from the Bad Road

In Uncategorized on November 27, 2012 at 4:21 pm

The guy had sort of pinned me to the wall and was glistening with maniacal sweat and talking some freak speak about what he was going to do and his stuff with how John was interested, and he was going to get in touch with John Lennon.
-James Taylor on his encounter with Mark David Chapman in 1980

I’m not the best with holidays. Or Whiskey. But-I can’t complain. After a few fingers of Jameson and a turkey dinner I had to excuse myself.  I lit some candles in the apartment, laid down with a few Peronis and listened to Charles Bukowski.  Laying in the dark listening to Bukowski read poetry isn’t exactly a “good time”but sometimes choosing your own suffering is as good as it’s gonna get.
I didn’t resurface from that dark trip until Saturday.  I went out and had drinks with Wing and the diplomat’s daughter.  We were on the deck at Opal Divine’s gnashing on horrible American barfood.  They were playing “all the hits” on the soundsystem and we were systematically smoking out anyone who tried to sit at the table behind us.  We were discussing the new year and the end of the bloody Age of Pisces.
“What can it mean?”  The diplomat’s daughter asked.
“It’s the end of patriarchy.”  I blew out a plume of smoke.  “And a return to matriarchy.”
The couple seated at the table behind us were grimacing as they flagged down their server and asked for another table.  I continued.
“Less extroversion   More introversion.  Less aggression.  More nurturing.  And if you want to anthropomorphize the centuries since Christ was born, the Pisces is not stable.  Pisces are staked out in the chaotic world of the emotions, while Aquarians rule the air and the intellect.  Pisces can be compassionate-empathetic is more like it-but, if you find yourself at war with a Pisces it’ll be nothing short of your complete and psychological annihilation.”
It was true enough.  I was a Pisces.  And some of my best friends are Aquarians.  They think they know it all and it’s amusing.  But I dig their confidence, as I am often mired in the multitudinous shades of doubt and tumults of emotion.  They were playing Boston when we paid our tab and left.
About an hour later I was alone again, sitting in front of my laptop with a cup of Italian Roast and a Sapporo.  The proof of the book was spread out onscreen, as well as a few different options for the cover.  And then it hit me…I was suddenly overcome with a fucking flood of gratitude.
It was this feeling of:  This is my life?!  Well goddamn.  I can do this!  And whatever else I set out to.

The only thing in the way is my self.  I used to stop there.  I had no answer for the hulking mass of me, blocking off the path and breaking me down with cynical whispers and destabilizing doubt.  Aho-the beast within and the inner dialogue.  The real bugger and culprit who robbed me blind of my will and wanted me to believe that those deadend avenues were all that there was.
I kicked back against that prick.  I took winding roads clear across Canada and to every state in the lower 48.  I moved 1,600 miles from those deadend streets of my hometown and even here in Paradise I jettisoned the sleazy barrio livin’ I was doing on the Hospitality circuit.
It’s time to take the Crown.  What else?  Except there ain’t no running&gunning this time.  I must embrace myself, crouch down like the tiger and sit so low inside myself, somehow persuade that bastard to walk down the road with me.  Shit-use the fucker like a human wrecking ball if I have to.  I know what I came for.  I’m not as young as I used to be but I’m wise and thrice-bitter.  There are no more mistakes.

Now if you’ll excuse me I must barricade myself until the wretched holidays are over.
May you find the love I have for you within.


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