I Had My Antennae Removed!

Which is true.

I used to go to parties when I was in my early twenties and talk about my out-of-the-ordinary upbringing [suicidal alcoholic mother, abusive and very hostile father] and I'd drink. And I'd say things that would shock people. "The third time my mom had her stomach pumped ... I think I was 12 ... we helped carry her to the car ..." Things like that. And people would just look at me like I was crazy. And I guess I wanted that reaction, sort of enjoyed it, using my mom's primary suffering, and my secondary suffering as some sort of currency. And cheap currency it was [for me. I wasn't getting my stomach pumped]. And now, looking back, I am mostly ashamed of having trotted out those stories. To people who had their own problems, struggles and so forth, to be sure.

I mainly just wanted to drink, talk and play guitar with people. Be social. I hated being home at that time, in the emotional vacuum that was my family's home. No one read, no one talked, no one had anything to say. I hated being home when I was living at home [until I turned 26 and went off to law school.]

Now I have my own home, and I love having my own space. If I could stay at home and have everything brought to me that would be sort of perfect.

I've digressed. I wanted to apologize for the last post, which was too much like the cheap currency I used to trade in. I don't have any intention that anyone should care about the emotions behind my experiences. What I actually set out to do was to write about Christmas circa 1980, driving around Orange County in a Pinto station wagon. And I was totally at a loss for trying to describe what the interior of a Pinto wagon smelled like, felt like, looked like in December of 1980. The plastic smell of the vinyl. How forboding touching the knobs on the console was in the cold weather. The absolute ineffectiveness of the defroster against the cold. Writing is such a bitter business.

So I set out to try to describe being 17 and driving around Orange County in 1980 in a Pinto wagon, and I fell off the proverbial bicycle. Completely like me, if you know me.

Saw the Charles Phoenix Retro Holiday Slide Show tonight in Ventura. Completely wonderful experience, he is the coolest. Check him out.

Night, all.