Untitled

It’s funny how people I don’t know – like say, bank tellers – try to offer me encouragement about my move, as if their little bit is going to be the deal closer for me, and their stamp of approval is something I actually need. And I understand them being cordial, too. I guess it’s just a little awkward, and I trip out on it. It’s this pebble rattling around up in my brain.

A whole new world is opening up to us. This little one here, this sidewalk I’m looking out on – rained on, cleared off of goth kids – will soon be a memory. I’ve come down here pretty much every day since last September, since I lost that rotten old job. This is where I got into all kinds of cool shit, reading books, comics, writing notes, talking out a few ideas here and there… In four days it will be all gone. The countdown continues.

Or will it be waiting for me, on holidays, the mandatory return visits? Will I even care. God knows I don’t miss DC. Maybe only 5% of me.

I feel enlivened, hopeful, freaked out, on edge. We human beings can be so afraid of change. We don’t like to be jolted.

And yet stagnation is worse. Stagnation! Ugh. Accumulation. Baggage.

This little town has its pros and cons. Mostly cons, but still, you make a home for yourself, not easy getting up and out without a little bloodletting. Especially when it’s so far away.

I’ve been a lot overwhelmed by the packing and slowly crossing everything off my list. The high pollen count and dust scattered from shifting of books and clothes has nearly sent me to the morgue.

Finally got around to seeing Once Upon a Time in the West – a kick ass film from ’68. Go see it! Then write me here. I talked about it as much as possible with my mom and grandmother today at lunch to keep them from the incessant interrogations of my moving affairs. Who was that again? Ah, Charles Bronson. Yeah, from Death Wish.

Yesterday, we took what we thought was our last trip over, only to be guilt-tripped into lunch for the next day. So today, afterwards, we were outside and my mom starts to put on this big sobbing theatrical production. I couldn’t handle that shit. Not from her. I got out fast. Now she writes that she wants me to call her before I go, so she can do it all over again on the phone. Not happening.

. . .

Grant Morrison is putting some good energy into the Seven Soldiers series. I’m psyched. I mean, he puts out Issue #0 as an introductory or set-up, then gives each of the seven characters (soldiers) four issues of their own comic. When those finish up, sometime next spring, Seven Soldiers Issue #1 will be released as a sort of epilogue, or as he’s calling it, a bookend. Brilliant!

Global Frequency is also one of my faves; re-reading these during the late night asthma sessions. Also the confusing Illuminati Trilogy. We were talking the other day how Chris Carter’s shows all started going down hill. My god, that last season of X-files really cleared out the room. Joss Whedon, on the other hand, keeps himself twice as busy working a number of shows, but still maintains top notch storytelling. It can be argued Buffy’s last season suffered a bit, but I dug it. And the new Serenity trailer is fantastic. When this shit comes out in late September, it’s going to mash all the current sci-fi stuff (Star Wars included) into a fine paste. That’s right, I won’t be rolling out my sleeping bag to see Star Wars. What’s the use?

As I write this, I should add that guys tomorrow are coming to buy the TV… I’ve wavered over the years its value in my life as I once thought it conflicted with my creativity and I don’t know, hindered independent thought… I say, mute that shit come time for commercials, watch selectively, pick out your favorite shows, flick off the politicians when they jump on, laugh like hell at the square heads on CNN (who take themselves so fucking seriously), and you’ll be alright. Also, from what I can tell, especially with HBO programming over the past few years, television has just become… better. I mean, when Millennium went off the air in ’99, I remember thinking there was never going to be anything that was going to top it. Then came along Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Deadwood, Carnivalle, etc. So yeah, I’m gonna miss my big ol’ 27″ TV, though back in the day I might’ve been one of those kids who wore a Kill Your TV t-shirt with such prideful indignation.

If I don’t write any more for a few days, wish us well on our voyage one thousand plus miles.