11,696. RUDIMENTS, pt. 658

RUDIMENTS, pt. 658

(metal machine music)

'You can get away with crap, if

it's done right.' A friend of mine

through another friend was saying

that. They were both there, and

laughing uproariously at what I

simply heard as noise. In addition,

even if it might not have been

just noise, it held no interest

for me. It was some time in

1975. In Avenel, actually, where

I'd returned for a few days never

knowing why. Those two, if this

was how they put their time together,

I thought, were real banana-heads.

Mike's Sub Shop was like going

to the Louvre, for them. Sitting

around, laughing at Metal Machine

Music, as put together by feedback

king of that day, Lou Reed, was

high cathedral music, carrying that

analogy to its own dead end. One

of them, Jack, kept this stupid-ass

list of what things the girl of his

dreams would have to like in order

to marry him. Yeah, really. It included

'paneling,'  -  she had to like paneling

and want it in each room of the

house. Then he had a list of foods

and things, like grilled cheese,

Whoppers, macaroni and cheese,

that she had to like and which she

also had to be willing to prepare

for him at any time, and at times

of his choosing. There were

other things, but it was so inane,

and it ran from like cars to sports

and clothes to wear. Crazy stuff.

I liked to barf before talking

about it. All through his high

school years  -  they had told me,

I wasn't aware  -  he'd wanted

to be a brain surgeon. Then he

enlisted for Vietnam and they

made him a Medic. And then

he signed up again for another

tour - it was so great, the first

one. But when they said it,

it was always connected to

laughter  -  they did that with

lots of things; all things were

funny. 'Man, did you see that!

(HA!) That guy in that GTO

just hit the abutment doing

about 90! He's splattered all

over the street!  Head spinning!

And the car's flipped over,

with wheels spinning! So

cool! (Ha Ha!!). If it couldn't

be found it was  funny, then

absurd would do, but it

had to be one or the other.

As it ended up, for the

remainder of his life he

was a computer tech guy,

which was cool, because

he got started really early.

Back when you could buy

 a total mainframe at Radio

Shack and, if you knew

what you were doing, put

together, and hop up, a real

deal computer, with speed.

It became funny to me how

all those car-hot-rod guys

had, at the end, a lot of the

same attributes as the new

breed, like him, but they

all turned out to be techie

hot-rodders. Same ethos,

same operative process?

I wondered.

-

I never knew what any of it was

all about, but Avenel as a home

base just never made sense; there

wasn't anything there. The other

guy had a girlfriend , over in

Sewaren, from a really oldline

and immigrant Austrian family.

The biggest thing in her life, also

annoying, forget the paneling stuff,

was to be a nurse; Muhlenberg

College; and some sort of nursing

school too in Allentown PA. Her

mainstay was in getting me to

sit still and 'listen, really listen;

have you ever heard the words

to it?' to that 'Bye bye Miss

American Pie' song, by Don

MacLean. I did, a few times,

and was non-plussed  -  it

was new, and different,

striking in a way, but I'd heard

a lot of that crap before and

realized all it took was a bit of

some little twisted sleight of

hand with words and anyone

could get that effect, besides

the whole rhyming couplet

rock-music junk. Nothing to

it; mystery parades as paradox

and ambiguity, and you've

got it made  -  acting 'sensitive'

helps too. To her it was as if 
an operatic milestone had been 
reached. I always hated that

rock-star a day BS that was so

much going down all through

that era. It still goes on, yes,

but at least now it's racial

enough that one can ignore

 it and blame, instead of their

musical ignorance and bleached

versions of Nobel Literature

stuff, the fact that 'I just don't

like rap music, tattooed people,

metallic teeth, big gums, and

names like 'L'il Diggy'and

'P-fap, or 'Shadey.'

-

Everything's such bullshit and

trash these days, and that's what

they teach and present and get

across. I think that technical and

scientific absurdity has reached

its limit and that the mass of men

lead lives of quiet perspiration,

and worry overly about that.

Intonation. Infatuation. Deliberation.

and Consternation. (They probably

wouldn't know the last two). I

never felt it was my duty, until

now, much later in life, to point

out to people how much they act

like dumb assholes (not that there are
smart ones either, I guess), as they

implement or undertake things.

Mostly, I just bite my tongue and

make sure to realize how it's not

much worth it. Back in '67, New

York people would throw down 

at the drop of a hat, over an insult

to a wife or girlfriend, or some

way-too-forward drunken and

offensive move. They'd step out

back and proceed to beat the 

crap out of each other, no one

much getting the better of the

other either, until they'd decide

they had enough and come

crawling back inside, bloodied,

tempers lessened, maybe bleeding

or bitching about a tooth or a

plate (fake teeth), but then they'd

often be best of friends again,

setting each other up for more

booze, a new camaraderie, and

arms about each others shoulders

too. For a minute. I'd seen it too

many times. No one fights like

that any more. There are too

many lawyers about, everyone 

sues, proprietors worry over

this and that  -  insurance rates,

(unless they're running 'bareback,'

which means operating with no 

insurance at all  -  as the old Maple

Tree did through the '90's). That,

in fact, was about the only place

I knew in those 1990's years that

ran in the fashion of an old-style

hootenanny kind of establishment.

I can remember shootings, stabbings,

and brawls too. Even one or two

court and trial date engagements.

Nothing ever came of any part of

it. They still closed up. Turning that

last century was tough; everyone got

piss-scared about everything; lawsuits,

millennium crashes; sex crimes; you

name it, and then 9-11 came through

and the endless years of dummy wars

and crybaby veterans and all that,

and everything we know of lost

sync, ran down, and just never got

going again until now all we're left

with oftentimes is a bunch of 

transgender nitwits forbidding 

this or that on their college watch, 

curtsying like goons to interest 

groups of their and only their 

choosing, and fabricating endless 

crisis moments, mostly because 

they can't stick to wiping their 

own butts and leaving it at that.

You can get away with a lot of

crap....if it's done right.

Thanks, Jack.