Schlitz is the Bomb.

It's hard to find, but Schlitz is an American classic. It's the same price as Miller High Life and Pabst Blue Ribbon. The taste doesnt have the chemical quality as Pabst, but it packs much more bite than the light High Life. I'm pretty sure Lavergne and Shirley worked at this factory on their show.

It's the beer that made Milwaukee famous.

A Tree Grows in Portland

A tree grows in Portland
that's where she wants to be
awash with mist and morning haze
to be sunken down in leaves

A tree grows in Portland
With branches, average height
the same moon that shines on all
shines on it tonight

A tree grows in Portland
But that's really far away
the trees around dont break ground
well, not enough to stay

I've read the grass gets greener
on the other side of the fence
But sometimes the path's too hard
the jungle becomes to dense

A tree grows in Portland
unlike all the rest
don't mention the North or the Bible Belt
not the desert nor the Midwest

A tree grows in Portland
or maybe in a dream
no one ever said it was easy
sailing against the stream

Holidays.

Andy Rooney said he didn't think Thanksgiving was as commercialized as other holidays. The rest of segment talked about only food products.

Top 5 Holidays (with explanations):

1. New Year's Eve: It's two holidays in one. The first holiday celebrates the end of the year. You can curse all the bad people you've met and toast to all the great experiences you have had. The second holiday celebrates the new year and all its potential. You can make a resolution to lose weight, stop smoking, or eat vegan. (Only later to realize its Feb. 13th and your dinner was a cigarette and chicken fries)

2. Halloween: This holiday is the only one that allows for costumes, which always equal parties. On the male side of the spectrum, the combination of girls in more risky clothing and the idea of making out with a girl while wearing a spider-man costume is simply overwhelming. Females can always have the pleasure of picking out a sluttier costume than the one she has on, or take the high road and dress in the always ubiquitous "cat" costume. There is also candy.

3.Cinco De Mayo: It's Mexican Independence baby! It's Black Friday for Corona and Dos Equis.

4. April Fool's Day: While technically not a holiday, it is inscribed on my "Dogs and Cats is Friends" calendar, so I'm going to count it. You can call your mom and tell her you've been in a car accident. You can put an egg in your teachers seat. You can spread rumor of a celebrities' death.

(Exception!) April Fool's Day is the only holiday that can be a negative experience without any help from you. Be the Joker, not the Punchline.

5. July 4th (Independence Day): Fireworks. Meat grilled over flame. Less annoying than St. Patrick's Day

Dishonorable Mention:
Arbor Day: Seriously?

Bitter Living Through Technology

At some point, someone will invent a way for our brains to interact with machines directly. How could we resist the temptation of plugging in?

We already sweat without the comforts of fiction or interaction. There are people who defy television, but those people are trapped in the same place that we are. The medium was never the problem. Our addiction to fiction will only expand. We all long to be entertained.
Didn't someone famous say, "Here we are now, entertain us!"?

Fiction is a drug. We need our unrealistic hopes and our chances at fame/infamy. The computer jockey wants to ride away into the sunset. The secretary wants to be in the middle of a love triangle involving two stunt men. The janitor wants to celebrate the touchdown with the rest of the team.

It is a drug because it makes us feel better. That comfortable, sugary sweet feeling can form cavities in our real lives. When we let fiction define our truth, we enter into an unresolving conflict. We know that love will not be perfect, but that doesnt stop " When a Man Loves a Woman" from making us hope. We know that the good guy just can't physically fight his way to his goals, but we all play weekend warriors. We know that the bad die young, too.

Everyone is addicted to something.

LustLife

I'm not sure I've ever had a lovelife. The word combination alone seems to be broad, but is it really
? I've always heard the term mentioned in conversation, but it seems like the love in that sense is not the same one that's heard in the phrase "I love you." That love has some power over us. The power to wear blinders without guilt. The power to take a hit. The power to build our statues or to dig our own graves.

The "love" in "lovelife" doesn't have that power. The intimacy of love doesn't have the same effect when measured over a person's life. A love that lasts 2 years could be immensely powerful, but only a pin in the map of the United States. Everyone has a few pins to stick in the map. A blonde from Colorado with an obsession for curly fries and Redd Foxx. The girl that can't play the guitar that well but looks like she was born to hold it. The diamonds that are unpolished. The jokes with no punchlines.

I have a Lustlife. I have a 3 a.m. phone call life. I have a "come check out my room" life. I have a "So you like Wilco, too? life. I have a scratches on the back life. I have a "I'll see you around" life.

That can't be a lovelife.

Midnight Prances and the Smoke that Dances

Every time a streetlight glows, the legends of the night grow.

I've always felt that the night held some curious danger that the day could never muster. It's not that I have something against the day. The day has just always been the time to work, the time to survive, the time to take advantage of our skills. The night is always a vacation. Sometimes 6 hours is just enough.

I think of every night as a vacation. Not in the sense of buffet eating, picture taking, and mini-golfing. The idea of a vacation as a journey to something unusual. I might drink often, but each time something hits me. If I'm lucky, I'll hear a some piece of unprocessed truth. I hear nuggets of truth all the time on a personal level, but I'm speaking of a different truth: a collective truth.

I believe in a collective consciousness. We know the same stories and feel the same feelings. We dream of the heroes we wish we could be and the damsels in distress. There is a truth that combines us. Death, Sorrow, Lust, and Hope are all facets of this communal truth. They are forces we can't ignore, no matter how many times you play "Not Fade Away" or just try to fade away. Out of this collective consciousness we learn how to communicate and live on a different level. Personal truth is important, but collective truth is also apart of us. Sometimes the two clash: "I am Intelligent" vs. "Your IQ score was 100" ; "I am beautiful" vs. "You are twenty pounds overweight".

I'm not telling you to choose between the others. The point is to recognize both and work your way around them. Completely ignoring the thoughts/opinions of others is considered irrational and abnormal (the autism spectrum is a great example of this). It's in our best interests to recognize both personal and communal truths.

Back to the Night:

The day holds no mysteries. The inherent risk of the night forces all my wild seeds to germinate. The sound of music in the distances. The glow of neon reflected in her eyes. The smell of alcohol and car exhaust. The first signs of fog floating from sewer lids. The signs on the stores flash "closed" but the roads are wide open. The bus lines stop running, but the roads never end. There is skin that the sun never touches. There are dresses the wind never brushes. There are infinite chances and ill-advised advances. When the day is over, I hope for midnight prances and the smoke that dances.

The Rest has Yet to Reveal Itself to Me

The looks on the faces of people we meet always register in our minds.
You might be the type to automatically jump to a flaw that you have: a lazy eye, a scar, a stutter, or a twitch. You might be the type to remember, to have a vendetta or a crush, a sign of hope or an omen of fate. You might be the type to refer to the books, the studies, the papers on proximity, body language, winks and nods. You might be the type that lets the shades down; sunlight can't burn what it can't touch. Walls make prisons.
The looks on the faces of people we meet always register in our minds.

Identity is fluid. A person can go from hero to scoundrel with a step to the right. We hold to ourselves truths that we feel are self evident. "I don't like oatmeal. I am successful. I have a great ass. I am not husky." In our world, we make the rules. In the real world, we are at the mercy of what the citizens of the world define us. Never feel that you can't be suave or interesting. Never think that you won't be successful with the other sex (or the same sex). Since identity is fluid, there exists a place where you are the funniest person. A place exists where there are people waiting to meet you, and its not a commercial for a late night phone sex operation. We are never stuck as just "us". We can always change.

All of this is subject to change.