I rocked out with my pal Mark last weekend on some music he's working on. Here's the results. More to come once stuff gets shaped n whatnot.
I rewrote Script #3 (Citizen Cobra) and may make another pass at it soon. My scanner doesn't seem to be recognized by the new OS and I'm a little upset by that and don't want to buy a new one. Thanks, Windows 7, for not recognizing anything I owned beforehand.
I have little else to write about, but I should type just to type and use this blog and write more often so we have a moment to visit with each other. So, after the jump, here's a true story.
I witnessed a strange altercation last week when I went to return the van I rented. This guy was there with his wife and their three toddlers. The first thing I heard him say to the employee was "so you wasted my time, then?" It didn't quite register with me, I hear something like that and I have to take a second to realize that an unpleasant conversation is underway and I've just walked into it before the guy continues with "f*** you" and starts calling the clerk all kinds of names, right in front of his own children and his wife, who doesn't bat an eye. I'm also a customer waiting my turn and I'm not sure where my place is in this, but as the employee APOLOGIZES, saying that he was just following the rules and that he couldn't do anything about the situation, the father of three small toddlers grabs the business card holder and knocks it over by pushing it at the employee. I shout "HEY!" as this is the only way I can insert myself into the situation, in a 'hi, I don't have enough time to verbalize that I'm a witness and I will call the police independently of this car rentals' actions" way. "HEY!" is what I said. "Please leave my business," says the employee, and I think about how he said "please." The mother of three, carrying the smallest toddler, has already walked out the door with the toddlers, neither calming down her man nor aiding him in the insults. This must be day to day for her. The clerk is a straightforward type and he's a little shaken up, but he tells me it's not a big deal.
The "customer" didn't have a license and he wanted to rent a car. According to the clerk, he had a note of some sort regarding car insurance, and that was it. He didn't define what "note" meant. His wife had a license but the idea of her being the one renting the car and driving apparently never came up or even occurred to the man. I think the man was too busy getting incensed at the idea (and state law) that he had to have a license to drive a car in the first place. Or maybe it just so happens that this car rental place is the only one in the city that requires a license to rent a car. What is up with that?
I'm not saying I'm mister strict law & order. I do notice that there's a good number of people who go absolutely apeshit when they are expected to follow the rules, including the law, that the rest of us abide by. And I'm not talking about the soviet style nightmare one goes through when applying to have a yard sale and the lady at the city clerk laughs at you because you've not applied for one before, and thus somehow that's a reason for her to point at you for the rest of the bureaucrats in the room while laughing instead of, you know, walking you through the steps of getting a permit just to sell a few boxes of comics on the sidewalk in front of your store (which she REFUSED TO DO, but that's clearly a different and (also clearly) selfish solipsistic rant) I mean things like "I gotta have a license so you can lend me a $15,000 vehicle for 70 bucks a day? HOW DARE YOU?" That's just the tip of a large iceberg. But instead of ice, it's a bunch of presumably uneducated meatheads who can reproduce quickly with the help of their subservient mates whose offspring will somehow not be taught the lesson of basic social responsibility and good citizenship, like maybe understanding that the employee of the car rental place can't, for reasons of economics, his employment, and basic common sense, let you borrow an expensive vehicle unless you have a document certifying that you are in fact allowed to drive one, along with at least providing the place lending you this complicated piece of machinery proof of your address or some sort of contact information in the event that you don't return it.
I won't have the time next time I witness something like this to explain the analogy of what large commuter boat they'd be sinking with their meatheadedness, but hopefully you get the idea.
-paul
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