RandomCha

I wish I could be more eloquent, now that the war has started. I guess I feel a little deadened, desensitized. It’s like Steven said to me last night when we were chatting online: this war feels like an act of nature. It’s something that they did everything in their power to make happen: Bush, the administration, Saddam Hussein. Everyone did what they could to bring it about. And we in the outside world, the people, the peripheral nations, we struggled against it and raised our cries and complained and called, wrote, protested. But it wouldn’t be stopped; they wouldn’t allow it. They’re all beyond caring about the consequences, more than they’ve ever been. No one knows what the consequences will be, only that there will be consequences. Bush may lose the next election, Hussein may be killed or captured or crippled, the oil will flow, perhaps there will be more terrorism. None of them cares about these consequences now because the war is the thing.

All we can do is watch, if we must watch. I don’t want to be glued to the TV. It’s so hard not to do that all over again. All we can do is to let things unfold; we should continue to protest, speak out, all the while realizing that the people who are playing this game are not paying any attention to us–they’ve erected that fourth wall and we’re not allowed to pass through it or jump over it.

This war is for them, the selfish on both sides, not for us. Let them write their own destinies. In the long run, we have the power to write ours for ourselves.

Now more than ever I hope that Michael Moore wins for “Bowling For Columbine.” His is the only speech I truly want to hear.

I would like to apologize for some negative comments I made recently about Norwood Park. While it’s true I’ve encountered plenty of doors slamming in my face since I’ve been working in that neighborhood, that’s not the case in every situation.

On Thursday I got a call from a guy in Norwood Park; I’d left a “sorry we missed you card” at his place earlier in the week when I stopped by but no one was home. Anyway, we talked on the phone and he was interested in taking part in the study. When we did the screening, it turned out that his wife was the one who was eligible for the interview.

He told me that she worked a few blocks away from where they lived at a pancake house called Menu, which is owned by her mother and father. After talking with her on the phone she said I should stop by the restaurant at 2.15 and we could do the interview then. Her name was Rosie.

I got there just after 1 o’clock. I needed to take my lunch break anyway so I figured I’d get there early and have a bite to eat before it was time for the interview. I came in and took a seat at a booth. The waitress came over and said hi and I asked if she was Rosie, and she said yes, and I introduced myself and said I thought I’d have lunch since I was early. She smiled and said that was great. I had lots of coffee, and eggs and sausage, hash browns, pancakes. I finished eating and read more of “A Farewell to Arms.”

2.15 rolled around but it was still kind of busy (they close the resturant at 3). Rosie’s husband came in and said hi, introduced himself, asked me if I needed anything. I said, no thanks. Rosie said she’d be with me in a few minutes so I relocated to a booth kind of in the corner, and plugged in my laptop, got everything set up.

We did the interview in between her finishing up with the few tables that were left. Then she signed a receipt and I gave her the $40 cash that you get for doing the interview. I thanked her again for her time. Before I could say anything else she said, thanks a lot Rob and there’s no charge for your food.

I left her a tip anyway when she wasn’t looking and I said goodbye before walking out the front door.

And that’s one reason why my job isn’t so bad after all.

Mr. Rogers died last night. It’s very sad. I’m always going to have really strong memories of watching his show. When I was a kid, my mom always tells me, it was my very favorite show. The episode I was most excited about was the one where Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno talked to Mr. Rogers about making “The Incredible Hulk.” I still have a Mr. Rogers record from when I was kid. It has a surreal story about a giraffe who eats a kite that makes him fly. In order to come back down to the ground, he has to fall asleep. So Yoshi Ito sings him a Japanese lullabye.

Mr. Rogers, Dr. Seuss and Jim Henson are all gone now. Not many childhood icons left. Is Captain Kangaroo next? It’s things like this that make me feel old.

What a crappy day it is today. First off, Andy and I have a fight this morning. Then Steven doesn’t show up for lunch at the Sears Tower. And then I head over to Paper Source and they’re absolutely no help in my search for book boxes … Clerk: “Well, they don’t really tell us who supplies us with those, and there isn’t anyone here who could tell you. I just suggest you do a google search.” You idiot, what do you think I’ve been doing for three months!? Why is everyone unwilling to tell me who their box suppliers are?! Is it some sort of deeply classified information?! This is the second time I’ve been told, “We consider that to be proprietary information and we don’t ever give out the names of our sources. We suggest you do a net search.”

And then, to top it off, I have to work tonight all the way out in fucking Norwood Park, the neighborhood where all the frightened white pseudo-suburbanites either shut the door in my face or else refuse to open the door at all. It’s going to take over an hour to get there and back and it’ll be dark and freezing, and the people in the houses that I go to visit aren’t going to care. $40 for a 45-minute interview towards improving health in their own community means nothing to them at all.

I’m supposed to go work out today, but if I go and do that now then I’ll have to head to work directly afterwards and all I really want right now is a long massage and a nap. And I probably won’t have either one.

Listening to “Scenery” by Neil Young, which is always a bit comforting when I’m angry.

Today I started re-reading “A Farewell to Arms.” What a wonderful book. The last time I read it was in high school.

I left my book of Raymond Carver’s poems out on the green trunk in the back parlour where I can get at it easily. He always inspires me. Sometimes I forget that. But today I remembered it again, so I want to have it out so I’ll look at it more often.

Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Heath Bar Crunch is GOOD.

Had brunch with Steven today at Sparky’s. He was wearing this cool brown shirt. It reminded me that he fits into Generation X in a way that I never will.

Talked about the book for a bit. Then we went down the street to the Ark thrift store and I hit a goldmine of great vinyl. I got a 2-record Motown collection, Willie Nelson “Somewhere Over The Rainbow,” Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66, an album by someone named Randy Vanwarmer that just looked interesting, and Kim Carnes “Mistaken Identity.” All for $2.88.

After I said bye to Steven I went a little crazier and at Record Exchange I picked up CDs by Amon Tobin and Ramsay Minwood. And yesterday I bought the new Ry Cooder album “Mambo Sinuendo,” which is awesome: spacey, twangy, punchy, swinging.

I guess because I did really good at work this work and I’m getting a bonus and I feel just a bit more financially secure at the moment, my thrift impulse was somewhat subdued.

Surfing around tonight I was looking at http://www.poetsagainstthewar.org and reading some of the thousands of submissions. And there’s tons of great stuff! It made me feel good that my poem is on the site too, published with everyone else’s. It’s rant, I know, but hopefully a poetic rant. I feel a bit sheepish because frankly I read some poetry on the site that’s better than mine … well, my first political poem, so it’s new for me.

Last night watched “CQ.” Very entertaining, goofy, visually stylish, just fun. Francis Ford Coppola must be proud: he has two children that have made great films. Andy and I drank Coppola wine on Valentine’s Day. Excellent wine. Probably better than his most recent films. I can’t knock Francis though. Whatever else he’s achieved, he’s a man of vision.

I suppose this weekend has been heavily saturated by the media for me. I even watched “60 Minutes” tonight. Disturbing piece on chemical warfare, well-done interview with Michael Moore. Does “Bowling For Columbine” have a chance of winning? Andy is pessimistic. I haven’t decided.

Drat, I have to shave tomorrow. Beginning to attain the “scary scruffy” look.

Today I finished a poem in honor of National Anti-War Protest Poetry Day. The poem is a bit too lengthy to post here. If you’d like to read it, write me at randomcha@earthlink.net and I’ll send it to you.

Ha! I have to share this with you … proof that Bush’s State of the Union address could have been given in less than 30 seconds …

http://www.empty-handed.com/mp3/state_of_the_union.mp3