“I Aim to Misbehave”

Let me start of by saying that I appreciate the beauty of being on vacation. I really do. Especially if that vacation entails tropical islands, beaches, palm trees, rain forests, oceans, that kind of shit. It’s really choice. If you can go on one, I recommend you do. Then again, not everyone can drive a Ferrari.

That being said… Are these idiot tourists for real? I mean, damn, people, how stupid can you be. Let’s take the bus, for example. The bus is a mode of public transportation. Every major city, and tons of the smaller ones have a bus. But for some reason, it seems that our breed of tourist has no idea how to use a bus, especially if they are A) white, B) between 24 and 76, and C) from the USA. “Is this the bus to Lahaina?” Does it say Lahaina on it? No, it’s says Kapalua. Therefore, I think we can safely say that this is NOT THE FUCKING BUS TO LAHAINA. Maybe the one behind this one that fucking says LAHAINA on it is the bus to Lahaina. Or maybe the tricky Hawaiians are trying to pull a fast one on you.

Now let’s talk about tourists in Starbucks. I suppose I’m over the fact that they even go to Starbucks, or McDonalds, or Pizza Hut, or look for an Applebee’s while on VACATION in HAWAII. But, hello, this Starbucks works like EVERY OTHER Starbucks in the US. Yes, your giftcard works here. Yes, we have internet. Yes we make the same damn drinks that your Starbucks back home makes. And yes that drink that looks like an Iced Grande Caramel Macchiato that is the only drink sitting on the bar IS in fact an Iced Grande Caramel Macchiato, so really, why are you asking me three times if it is an Iced Grande Caramel Macchiato. Of course, when there are 7 drinks on the bar, you DON’T ask and just take and end up taking someone else’s drink. But whatever. You’re also the kind of person that gets a Hawaii Starbucks Card and puts $5 on it, then spends the $5 the next day and gives your friend an empty Starbucks Giftcard as a souvenier from Hawaii. Wow. Big spender. You just gave your friend a gift that cost nothing. AND you did NOTHING to help the Hawaiian economy. Jesus Christ. Get your ass back in one of the local stores and buy a t-shirt and a keychain and a calandar for your friend, you cheap fuck.

And speaking of tourists and Starbucks and buses…. I know Hawaii is a very romantic spot. But on the bus or inside of Starbucks doesn’t seem like the most, well, romantic spot to be, um… damn, just get a fucking room. Your flabby middle-aged lips don’t have to be kissing each other non-stop the whole damn vacation. Hell, even highschoolers don’t kiss that much, let alone make those fucking “lovey dovey” mumbly sounds to each other all the time. For fuck’s sake, act your age.

But then again, I had almost forgotten that in this economy airlines are charging more for everything. I suppose these tourists couldn’t afford to bring their brains with them, what with all the added fees.

Still, don’t act like you’re entitled to some sort of special treatment when you’re out in public just because you’re on vacation.

When someone else says it better:

So long ago, I don’t remember when
That’s when they say I lost my only friend
Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
As I listened through the cemetery trees

I seen the sun comin’ up at the funeral at dawn
The long broken arm of human law
Now it always seemed such a waste, she always had a pretty face
So I wondered how she hung around this place

Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There’s got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

She said it’s cold
It feels like Independence Day
And I can’t break away from this parade
But there’s got to be an opening
Somewhere here in front of me
Through this maze of ugliness and greed
And I seen the sun up ahead at the county line bridge
Sayin’ all there’s good and nothingness is dead
We’ll run until she’s out of breath
She ran until there’s nothin’ left
She hit the end, it’s just her window ledge

Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There’s got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

Well this place is old
It feels just like a beat up truck
I turn the engine, but the engine doesn’t turn
Well it smells of cheap wine, cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I’d like to watch it burn
I’m so alone and I feel just like somebody else
Man, I ain’t changed, but I know I ain’t the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin’ dreams
I think of death, it must be killin’ me

Hey, hey hey come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There’s got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

July 5th, 2009, is the day that I really started to lose faith in humankind. Say what you will about economic recovery, environmental awareness and all that bullshit. In the end, I keep seeing that the doom of all mankind is inevitable. Not because we can’t make the world a cleaner place, and not because we can’t fix education or the economy or health care or any of that. The bottom line is that the average person doens’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but themselves. For example: I was working yesterday, and at some point in the morning, a hot drink was spilled wtih potential injury to a customer. The people I was ringing up at the register were more concerned that I was getting their order than if the other customer was alright. Someone not 10 feet away from them. Absolutely no empathy for a fellow human being. Time and time again, in small ways each and every day, I see how a person has little to no regard for anyone or anything but their own needs. And it’s an attitude that isn’t going to change. Somehow, so many people have this false sense of entitlement, and who the hell knows where it comes from. Believe me, if we all got what we really deserved, we’d all be in a world of shit, and I include myself in this. I never profess to be a good person. But I’d hope to hell that I’m at least a little better than what I see around me.

What began as a simple short story has grown into something much, much larger. It was going to be a brief bit of sci-fi noir. It was going to be short and elegant. Most importantly, it was going to be finished by May and entered into a contest. Obviously, that did not happen. Otherwise, this post would have been alot different than it is. Something about mice and men, I suppose. Plans and such. Ah well. Now it becomes one of FOUR, count them, four incomplete stories I’m working on. But it’ll most likely become the second in priority for getting published. I’m back to cleaning up and reworking the first–trying to get it ready for the long road to submissions to agents and publishers. I’ve been through this before, but not exactly with this one. I’ve come up with a much more coherent plot and a fuller storyline. We’ll see how it works out.

Other than that, it’s work work work. Business as usual I suppose.

By the way, I saw that Elmore Leonard has a book of 10 rules for writers. I’ve read it. They’re good rules. Let’s see how well I follow them. I do respect Elmore more than most writers. I mean, he wrote Get Shorty for fuck’s sake. The man embodies coolness, so who am I to argue with him.

Lay me down in a wooded field
Plant a bush above my head
Lay me, lay me down
Don’t go writing on my grave
I’ll have it said it all before the end
Lay me, lay me down

And when I’m dead, please don’t philosophize
Or feel regret
Just remember me when I said
I had one hell of a life
One hell of a life
I had one hell of a life

Throw my ashes to the wind
Watch them blow into the sea
Throw me, throw me in
You can cry up there on the cliff
Scream to heaven, work your grief
But throw me, throw me in

And when I’m dead…

Fear and guilt accumulate
And the time’s never right to deal with it
Maybe, maybe now
You can live your life in an endless wait
Or build it high on the present tense
Maybe, maybe now

And when you’re dead…

Build it high on serendipity
Build it higher on serendipity
And when we’re all dead
They won’t philosophize
Or feel regret
They’ll remember us when we said
We had one hell of a life

I’m not one to brag about the quality of my writing. Really, I’m not. But I read the last few pages of my novel and remembered why I wanted to tell this story. I’ve been working on another one, slowly–one that has been in my head for just about as long as the other. And I’ve pulled out the subsection of the first one to make it into it’s own story. But I really do love the ending of the original. It’s inspired me to go back and work on it, refine it, polish it, and most importantly, get it sold.

Hopefully there are others who think the same thing about it that I do. Others in places of power that can get it sold and published and set me up on my way to getting the other ones published as well.

I love the beginning too. I really do. Especially the prologue. THe middle part of Chapter One needs work, I know that. But the structure is there. The idea is there. It needs tightening in some places and reworking in others–general tinkering overall, from someone who has a hard time finding a real finishing poiint. I could take years deciding between one of two words to describe a noun, while at the same time I can rush other parts just to get them on the page. Now it’s time to iron out all the wrinkles. I want to get these things sold. I want people to like them. I want to earn enough money off of them that I can buy some land up in the hills and build a house that overlooks everything and everyone, looking off into the ocean. I want to be one of those insane, reclusive writers that you only hear about once in a while. And I want to no be so much of a dick as Neil Gaiman. But god, I do love his books. The Graveyard Book was quite compelling, if overly brief. And definately not what I would shelve in the children’s section.

Still, I do want to kick that man in the shins.

I actually have three days off in a row. It’s the first time this has happened since unemployment, which really wasn’t that long ago. That’s one of the reasons I’m wondering if I can really enjoy this time off. It just seems like a bit long of stretch of time, long enough to make me nervous. Of course, when it’s over, I have to open four days in a row. That’s four days of being at work at 4:30 in the morning.

I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned before that the world is still flat that early in the morning. It doesn’t become round until well after 9 am.

One thing that has suddenly hit my mind about being back in Hawaii is the lack of chain restaurants. Back in Alabama, it was nothing but chain restaurants. Now, there is an amazing lack of Applebee’s, Ruby Tuesday’s, Chilies and those kinds of places. Not that I really miss them, but sometimes they’re just bloody convenient. And Chilies has some damn tasty burgers. Here, I don’t even have a Red Robiin. I do have a place called Cheeseburger in Paradise–not one of the Buffett sponsered ones. It’s a tourist place, so it’s overpriced and the lines can be long. But the burgers are good. The locals here would disagree with me because local burgers have a certain taste to them. I think it’s Lipton Onion Soup mix added to the burger or something like that. Anyway, in my opinion, it makes the burger taste cheap. So give me the overpriced burger. Besides, if I want something that tastes like White Castle, I’ll fly back to Chicago and get some White Castles. But I sure as hell ain’t gonna pay seven bucks for an not White Castle burger that tastes like one.

See, here’s the thing: I know you did not asked for it Iced, and I know you did not ask for it with soy. I know you asked for a grande and not a venti. Why the hell are you pulling this shit on me just because you know it’s store policy to remake your drink? Is that extra dollar for soy and the size up really worth being an asshat over? Especially when there are a dozen people in line behind you and you’ve now held all of them up to save your ass a few measly cents.

Jesus H. Christ.

What does the H. stand for, by the way? Even Christopher Moore didn’t tackle that one. Although I still say that his plot gets weak in the middle of the book.

All the tourists have decended upon my world. Which is good for business, I suppose. But at work, it tends to drive me insane. Don’t get me wrong, there are the good ones. And more customers usually means more tips. Usually. Not always. But usually. Please, tip your barista. Honest to god, we make your drinks way better than you could. Plus, I could use the extra money with a few games on the horizon that I really would like to get, not least among them Diablo 3.

Can you believe I have a friend who didn’t know D3 was in the future? I’m fairly certain he doesn’t read this blog, so we can all make fun of him here. And if he does read this blog, then: Dude, get out from under that very large rock you’ve been living under.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe the H. stands for Huevos.

Jesus Eggs Christ.

I should become a movie critic. No, really. I’m not kidding. I should be. I managed to read the majority of the reviews for Terminator Salvation. Then I went to see the movie yesterday. I swear to god, I must have walked into a different movie than these idiots reviewed, because I’m rather certain I saw a good movie. I really don’t know what everyone else watched. Sure the movie was heavy with special effects, but they did fit the story rather than being the diving force. And somehow all the critics only paid attention to Bale’s performance, which was adequate. Yet they overlooked two very strong performances by Sam Worthington and Anton Yelchin. Epecially Yelchin. He’s the darling of the critics right now, and not for no reason. However, unlike the critics, I have to say his portrayal of Kyle Reese was much stronger than that over Pavel Checkov. Maybe the critics liked the funny accent, I don’t know. Or Koenig paid them off. Still, this was exactly what you want in a Terminator Movie, and more. Sure you go in expecting fancy special effects, elaborate chases and big explosions. However, the critics seemed to pan TS for just those things, claiming that was the majority of the substance of the movie. Did they miss the rather engaging storyline that fit very nicely between T2 and T3? Did they miss a movie that stands up well in its own right as well as being part of the Terminator Franchise?

It might not be Academy Award material (well, except for sound and visual effects. And really, I liked the art direction-especially the monochromatic, documentary feel.) But at the same time, I don’t understand why so many people are so ready to hate TS. Right out of the gate, they wanted to hate it. And in wanting to hate it so much, the missed out on a solid movie-going experience.

If you go to Hawaii and eat at McDonalds, be prepared to pay over 7 bucks for a Big Mac meal. Luckily, the dollar menu stuff is all the same. If you’re wondering why anyone in Hawaii would eat at McDonalds, then check out the prices anywhere else (except Taco Bell) and you’ll understand. Also, sometimes you just want a nasty burger from McDonalds. Sometimes. Not often. Sometimes.

Also, they have Taro Pie, which I haven’t bothered to try yet.

And the Starbucks in Hawaii have coconut syrup. Venti Coconut Strawberry Blended Lemonade. Try getting that anywhere else. Or an  Iced Grande Coconut Mocha. Yeah, coconut makes so many things so much better. Especially when you can also get a freshly made macadamia nut cookie with that mocha. Or a macadamia nut brownie. I won’t bother to tell you which is better, though both are good.

But just keep in mind: Everything in Hawaii is fucking expensive.