Garage land

When they were struggling,
They loved each other like brothers.
Each individual mind, body, soul as one.
They were a collective, complex organism.
They were ready to take on the world.


When they made it, ego interfered.
Each one thought he would be better off without the others.
The others were just riding on his coattails.
He was the one with true talent.
The band was nothing without him.

If only they had stayed modestly successful.
If only they had not lost their ideals.
If only success did not poison everything good.
If only they had just stayed in the garage all night.

The fart sniffer chronicles part 2

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Fart sniffing became a necessity for society to survive in the year 4999. The population of earth was so great that the very air could not withstand more pressure. The ozone layer was a thin sheet of tissue paper so fragile that even little farts (by this I do not mean the silent but violent but merely farts of no consequence, certainly not milk farts, or bean farts either, I mean just run of the mill farts) could cause the earth to become uninhabitable. The learned scientists conducted tests and determined that farts were threatening life on earth in the worse way imaginable and something had to be done.

The government wanted to make fart sniffing mandatory of course. It was the teeming billions and trillions that made fart sniffing a necessity and the government as usual felt it best to put the burden of fart sniffing on the tax payers. But there was a public outcry as you can imagine. People resented being made to sniff farts. Government's job was to take the burden off the workers, not the other way around. Surely, the government could protect the citizens of the United States and the rest of the people of Earth for that matter from the dangers of farts.

In the end, it came down to matters of equity and fairness as do most issues when you really think about it. There were various factions with a variety of viewpoints. Skinny people didn't feel they should have to smell fat people's farts, for instance. Vegetarians didn't feel they should have to smell meat-eaters' farts. There was so much division as to how to handle the threat of extinction caused by the bloated populace's farts.

Even though Republicans and Democrats were in agreement that farts were a menace to society and even could cause  the extinction of the citizens of Earth (agreeing as they never had about global warming, for instance), they just could not figure a way to tackle the problem. As is sometimes the case with government, when they could not seem to solve anything on their own, they resorted to the public sector.

Big business stepped in to save the Earth from extinction by flatulence. Corporations bailed out the government by spending billions of dollars on research. They tested human beings like lab rats to determine if there were some constitutions that could stomach farts more than others. Into this improbable world stepped our unlikely hero, Oswald J. Quifflebottom.

The fart sniffer chronicles part one

Oswald J Quifflebottom was a fart sniffer by trade. Not to boast too loudly but Oswald was a damn good fart sniffer. No he did not attend an elite fart sniffer college like some of his colleagues but Oswald had the dedication and perseverance for fart sniffing that few possessed. Of late, mere fart sniffing was not enough for Oswald. Oswald had started to feel an emptiness deep in his soul.

Oswald feared there might not be a future in fart sniffing. Yes perhaps one day he could drive the truck that delivered the fart tanks but it could take years before there was an opening. Or maybe he could own his own fart sniffing business but Oswald knew he was dreaming too big. All he knew was he had a knack for it. It wasn't really even something you could teach. Yes he had had a brief training but it ill prepared Oswald for the day to day grumblings and commotion that were the purview of the fart sniffer.

It really made Oswald puff out his cheeks when he thought about how far along he had come as a fart sniffer. With no formal education. In truth Oswald was something of a simpleton but he was passionate and adept at fart sniffing. It really came naturally to him. So why was Oswald so unhappy?

Because he was not one to back down from a challenge, Oswald racked his brain to find a way to be content with his lot in life again. Could he go on as a fart sniffer for the rest of his days? Could he get into upper management in fart sniffing? Could he own his own fart sniffing business? Whenever Oswald was puzzled about something he always found a way to solve his problem. And then it came to him. It was so simple. Oswald would make a list. He would write out the pros and cons of fart sniffing to determine if it was really his destiny or just a crazy pipe dream.

Pros
1) He could make his own hours. Nobody told Oswald he had to sniff farts at the break of dawn. If he wished, he could sniff farts at dinner time. He could sniff farts while he was watching television or surfing online. As long as the farts got sniffed within 48 hours, his employer never complained. How many people had that kind of freedom with their schedule? 

2) Fart sniffing did not require a great deal of physical exertion. You could sniff farts while you were sitting or laying down. You could sniff farts on a bus or an airplane. You could sniff farts virtually anywhere the tanks were delivered to.

3) Fart sniffing paid very well. He hated to be materialistic but quite frankly, fart sniffing paid the bills.  

4) Fart sniffing was at heart an altruistic act. It took a special breed to sniff farts and there were few who were as selfless and robust and and unflagging in their dedication to fart sniffing as Oswald J Quifflebottom. Oswald feared he was giving himself a big head as he wrote this entry but he had to be honest with himself above all.

Cons
Well, there is the obvious one. But someone had to sacrifice in order for humanity to survive and this pleased Oswald. It helped him sleep at night to know that the people of Earth would survive another day due to his perseverance and fortitude in the face of grim and odious fart sniffing. It was not for those with weak constitutions certainly. Not everybody had the stomach for it.

Only a jazz musician knows time

Only a jazz musician knows time.
The rest of us squander it.
In jazz they break seconds down into fractions.
In life, we watch the minutes drag.
We can't wait for one more hour to pass
So we can go home and be with the ones we love.

Time is our enemy. Time is our master.
But a jazz musician is on top of time.
A jazz musician breaks time down
Into eighth notes, sixteenth notes.
A jazz musician compresses time
And squeezes the juice out of it.
A jazz musician knows there is so much
Feeling in every note, and they dare not waste it.

I wish I could control time.
I wish I didn't waste so much of the stuff.
It seeps through my fingers like grains of sand.
What if I could catch each grain as it fell
And build something new out of it
Like a sandcastle or some crazy architecture.
Then I would be ahead of time or at least not wasteful of it.

I wish I knew time like Lee Morgan did.
His life was brief and his death was tragic.
But Lee Morgan knew time.
He was dead before he was 40.
But he was so alive while he was in time.
So alive. So alive.

I love the Fall!

I love the Fall's music.

They continue to amaze.

I am learning their code-speak.

I can wait for revelation because it is worth waiting for.

Mark E. Smith is a genius.

There is so much we can learn from him.

I am a disciple, worshiping.

I take my vows very seriously.

The music is raucous yet beautiful.

M E Smith's vocals come in to fill

The spaces like a snarling chainsaw.

But a chainsaw with surgical precision and flair.

I can't tell you what art they make.

I can't make you love them too.

I only know they are the hippest band on the music scene.

The Fall are an exposed nerve, bleeding,
And we are the exposed nerve.

Rebellious Jukebox sums up the Fall's vision.
Take all your desert island picks and chuck them into the ocean.
Yes, they're that good.
 Hail the hip priest!

I forget to look at the moon

I forget to look at the moon.
I don't know why.
It's one of the most beautiful
Sights known to mankind.
Loaded with all that possibility
That we experienced from that first giant step.

The moon is not just what the astronomers tell us.
The moon is for lovers and hopeless dreamers.
The moon is a foretelling of events for some.
The moon is mysterious and it makes the people of the Earth
Feel something otherworldly
Although it is smack dab in our world.
The only world we know or profess to know.

Artists use the moon for inspiration.
From Shakespeare to what's his name.
The moon is not made of green cheese.
The moon is really amazing and everyone
On this crazy planet can look at it
And wonder and dream and hope.

The moon isn't going anywhere.
Although it is beautiful and amazing,
We can gaze at it any time we want.
It costs nothing yet means so much.
Why do I forget to look at the moon?

To-done list

Everybody knows it is good for you
To have a to-do list and check things off.
Setting goals, acknowledging
When you've accomplished them.
But what about a to-done list?
Why not give yourself credit
For things you have already done?

Hey, I did the dishes today!
Let me mark that off my to-done list.
Hey I re-potted my plants!
Better mark it off my to-done list.
Hey, I watched that really cool movie
I kept meaning to get to!
Let me mark it off my to-done list.

What a pleasure to give yourself
Credit for stuff you already did.
Hey, I wrote a poem today.
Hey I read this engrossing book.
Hey I went to work and worked really hard.
Hey I made dinner and it was delicious.
Hey I helped my kid with his homework.
I accomplished something today!
Gotta check it off on my to-done list.