By T. Andrew Janke |
Non-Fiction, Poetry, Musings. A place for my crazy ideas. All works here are property of the author. |
When I walked out of work today I felt a strange chill in the air that hadn’t been there when I had gone to my car a few hours before. The sky was dark and there was a breeze in the air that I hadn’t felt in almost a year. I rolled down the sleeves of my western, sleeves that I had rolled up 9 hours ago when beginning work in a store that still needs air conditioning to feel remotely comfortable.
As I drove home I thought about all the good things coming my way as the weather got progressively colder…
A warm pumpkin spice chai as I walk around town doing errands.
The feeling of putting on a fresh flannel shirt in the morning.
Cuddling up on a extra cold night with that special someone.
This is what I call hoodie weather, a perfect season where my favorite article of clothing can be worn around all day without the need for another layer over it. When wearing a t-shirt outdoors seems a little risky, that hoodie is there to protect my bones from the cold.
I rolled down the windows for a minute on the highway and enjoyed the stiff breeze passing through my town, let it sink into my skin, and allow the first chill to run up my spine.
Autumn is finally here and soon the decay will set in as winter begins to take hold of this world. But for now, I’ll enjoy the season that has been my favorite for years.
Few bands in the punk scene today foster a relationship between themselves and their fans in the way Polar Bear Club does. Vocalist Jimmy Standt alternatively goes between twirling around the stage like a possessed modern dance enthusiast and kneeling in front of the crowd sharing this intimate moment with his friends.
During a Sunday night show at the Ottobar in Baltimore, Standt and the rest of Polar Bear Club, guitarists Chris Browne and Nate Morris, bassist Erik Henning, and drummer Tyler Mahurin showed that their particular blend of punk has more soul than a gospel choir and more heart than Andre the Giant.
Playing a mix of old and new songs, the band moved through their 45 minute set with mixed pace, slowing it down with songs like opener “Eat Dinner, Bury the Dog and Run” and then speeding it up to a breakneck pace with “Election Day”, “Our Ballads” and their best known song “Living Saints”, during which Standt kept the microphone in the crowd for a good portion of the song, letting each and every person have their voice heard as they sang the words to a song about loving your friends and having their backs through thick and thin.
Their tour continues October with Fireworks, Balance and Composure, and Make Do and Mend. This solid lineup is not to be missed.
Today was a cold rainy day in Millersville, a big change from the beautiful weather that we had yesterday. Girls across campus were decked out in their wellies, guys were in waterproof hiking boots and work boots hoping to keep the rain out. I was shoeless.
Today was the annual Tom’s Day Without Shoes, a day when the for profit shoemaker Tom’s encourages customers to spread the word about their brand by being like the people they help in their charity work. I already have strong feelings about this slacktivist trend but this year is decided to participate. I’m doing this not because I want to be trendy or I think myself an activist, fighting for the underprivileged of the world. I decided to do it because i wanted to understand a little better what it’s like for those people who go without shoes on a daily basis. Walking a mile without their shoes in a way.
The weather was not ideal for this experiment. When I left my house at 10:30 it was raining and cold, about 45*. Needless to say that as I stepped out my door, my feet were already cold. I took the few steps out to my car and I could already feel the cold wet asphalt sink into my feet, digging at the un-calloused soles. My car offered a reprieve once it heated up and I felt semi-normal again. On the drive I thought about packing it in already (I had my Tom’s with me just in case I was asked to wear shoes at any point during the day) but I said to myself “If these kids don’t have a choice, neither should I.”
The walk to class was even worse. Gravel and twigs littered the ground so I had to be careful where I stepped so as not to injure myself. I walked at as reasonable a speed as I could muster. Between the temperature, the pain, and the caution it was not fast as I would have wished.
I sat down in my first class looking at the feet of those around me. Everyone was in shoes of some kind. Last year at this time there was a much higher rate of participation. The weather was nice so it was easy for everyone to handle. Today was not the case.
I carried on with my day. Went to the hospital for x-rays where only one person noticed my bare feet. She asked me why I wasn’t wearing shoes and I told her just that it was Day Without Shoes and it was an activism effort. She didn’t ask me to put any on so I didn’t worry about it.
It was liberating in a way to walk around the buildings shoeless. It’s hard to describe, it just felt so good and right.
I went back to campus for my night class. The weather had changed drastically. The sun was out, it was a lot warmer with a slight breeze in the air. I figured that I would see a one or two people without shoes in my class. Nope. The more comfortable weather did not make anyone ditch their shoes in their dorm room or car. Maybe people forgot, maybe they felt that they shouldn’t finish off the day if they hadn’t started it. Either way I was still alone in my shoelessness.
When it came down to it I came to a couple of conclusions:
I don’t think of myself as a better person for doing this and I don’t look down on those who didn’t participate for whatever reason. I did this today to gain some perspective on the cause that Tom’s shoes is trying to promote. I know that when I wake up tomorrow I will feel a little more fortunate for living the life that I do in the place I am and I will feel more fortunate that I have shoes to wear when I step outside my door.
I’ve been thinking a lot about body mods and age today. I feel like it is pretty common today to see kids almost 10 years younger than me with some serious body modifications, namely stretched ears and tattoos. While I support body mods in all forms, I think that being so young and choosing permanent modifications is such a poor life choice.
In my house I wasn’t allowed to get my ears pierced until I was 18 and didn’t even start the real stretching until I was in college and at 23 I am only at a 0g. I didn’t get my first tattoo until I was 22. I knew that these were so permanent that I needed to think long and hard about my choices. I knew when I laid down on the table that the nautical star was the absolute best decision. I didn’t go with the crowd at all here. Kids in my high school were getting tattooed at 16 with their parents signing for them. While I wished that my parents were that cool I look back now and know that i would have made a dumb choice back then. I probably would have ended up with a tribal armband at 16 because I was that stupid and tribal tattoos were still cool and relevant.
Now it’s not uncommon to see 15 year olds at the mall with ears stretched to an inch or more. I don’t think that they have bad parents or are stupid, I just don’t think they’re seeing the bigger picture and are doing it because they just want to be cool. Maybe some do respect the mod culture and do it because they love it, but I have seen more kids go back on their choices and regret a lot of things they did.
(Source: rise-or-die)
DRUGS are quickly proving themselves to be the new kings of the post-hardcore genre. With an aggressive viral marketing campaign staring this summer, which at times was frustrating, and a debut slated for a February ’11 release DRUGS cannot be stopped.
If DRUGS are what’s right with post-hardcore then New Medicine is what’s wrong with it. Sounding like Brokencyde mixed with Buckcherry, their writing lacks thought and originality. There is no subtly to the lyrics, lead singer Jake Scherer says exactly what he means, leaving no room for interpretation. Amongst songs about getting laid and drinking 40’s with your bros, the only bright spot was “Little Sister”, a song about the death of Scherer’s young sibling, but even that was dominated by lackluster lyrical elements.
Next up was Eyes Set to Kill. Before tonight I had never heard a note of their music but was intrigued. New vocalist Cisko Miranda is still learning how to take the stage. He seems unsure what to do with himself while on stage. Singer Alexia Rodriguez knows exactly what to do, between shredding and belting out anthems for the disenfranchised youth she plays with relish and shows that this band might be around for a long time.
The moment DRUGS took the stage the room lit up with excitement. The kids finally began to move and sing along with every note they knew. Aaron Stern’s drumming is as tight as it’s ever been; Matt Good and Nick Martin tear up their guitars blowing everyone away. Adam Russell holds down the low end with charisma, making his way through the crowd at one point only to crowd surf back up on stage.
But in the end it all comes down to Craig Owens. Owens has always been the man with a million projects. The man’s brain was not meant to work with one band or one sound, spreading out over post-hardcore, pop, and acoustic genres with ease and talent. With DRUGS Owens improves on his signature vocals adding a few new elements to his repertoire. There is a renewed sense of passion in him and it shows. The only word to describe it is “swagger.” Craig has obviously been listening to some hip-hop lately. He flows through the songs like a seasoned MC. His spoken word verses are no longer staccato, implementing a new rhythm and improving the overall quality of the songs.
Over the course of this short tour DRUGS are proving that they can move past their respective bands and put on a show worthy of everyone’s attention.
My boy Campbell told me that he’s done being sad. I need to follow his lead. I’m sick of writing in tears, I need to write in blood and sweat, smeared across the page like amurder scene.
It’s too easy to be sad these days, to look down at the floor and let everything take its toll on your body. It’s the same thing as giving up. Resigned to the fact that it’s not gonna get any better. Letting the weight of the world just press down on you. Being happy is hard work. All the little things that gnaw at our minds everyday, they’re hard to push out. Well I’m kicking them the fuck out like a deadbeat tennent. Those fuckers aren’t gonna live here anymore.
I’m gonna shirk off the weight of the world, let it all fall around me.
I’m gonna look up and let the sun shine on my face because I deserve it.
I’m gonna smile the biggest shit eating grin I can because I’m not letting anything get me down.
I’m gonna write in blood and sweat with a pen made of bone because I’m gonna rip this world in two.
I used to believe a man drank his feelings into submission. You go out, get the cheapest, worst gut-rot alcohol and consumed it to take your mind off of the real pain that penetrated deep into the core of your soul, in a way tricking your body into dealing with the more urgent pain. Humphrey Bogart did it when Ingrid Bergman walked into his gin joint, and who doesn’t want to be like Bogey?
That’s exactly what I did. I sought out the worst thing I could find, in this case a brand of fortified wine that even a homeless alcoholic would refuse. When I got home I cracked the bottle despite it being only 12:30 in the afternoon.
And so I drank and drank until I had finished the bottle, all while musing this turn in events over in my head. I did begin to feel better. The sad songs I listened to didn’t seems so sad while the light shining through my window gave me some hope that the next girl would be just around the corner.
I figured out all the things I liked about her were the things I really hated about her. The way she laughed a bit too long about mundane events, the way she acted like she was on a higher plane than everyone. They always say hindsight is 20/20 but I never truly realized it until that day. I was glad she was someone else’s problem for now. Despite the fact that deep in my mind I thought we were perfect for each other, I didn’t need that burden in my life. I was beginning a new phase in my life and she was a remnant of a past life.
An hour later, the alcohol wore off and my system was clear of everything, including my new found revelations. I was back in the same miserable place I started, no trace of my newfound mindset. I was alone again, this time burdened by a headache and a worse pain in my guts.
The goal here is to post something a couple times a week and then collect some of those pieces here and some new ones into a collection and self-publish.
I’ve wished you well
Forgiven you all your sins
But when I close these eyes at night
I dream of you
Dying alone
I’m not strong
But at least I can admit it
Not hiding behind bullshit like you
This heart is empty now
You stole the best part of me
And fucking consumed it
I can’t be your savior
I can barely save myself
What Hell has wrought on me
Has broken me down to the bone
Just a skeleton
A Shade of my former self
A pile of broken bones
Cracked and worn with age
I have nothing to hold me up
Lifeless
Heartless
Soulless
No redemption
No remorse
For what I’ve done I am not proud
But those choices were mine and mine alone
Broken down and Bloody
I’m down but not out
From this pile of bones I will be reborn
Like a phoenix from the ashes I will rise
WATCH ME RISE!
