...has nothing to do with this post. I just heard that song on the radio at work and I really like it, so there you go.
After I leave work tomorrow, I think I will walk to Walmart and purchase a bicycle. I know, I know, Walmart is of the devil, but if there were another store in town that had a bike anywhere near as cheap, I would go there. That's just how it goes sometimes.
Also, I went to church today. First time in a long time. I've been contemplating the pros and cons of going for quite a while now. What pushed me over the edge? A comic book series called Transmetropolitan. Transmet was written by Warren Ellis. It stars a character named Spider Jerusalem, a journalist. From what I understand, he was loosely based on Hunter S. Thompson. I think there's a lot of Warren Ellis in him, too. It's an amazing comic book. It makes me want to write. In the book, Spider moves back to the City because he needs to write and he can't write unless he's miserable and hated and the City makes him feel this way. Church doesn't necessarily make me feel miserable and hated. At least, not all the time. I figure that it will give me something to write about when I am lacking in ideas. So that and wanting to arrange to play the piano every now and again made me decide to go to church.
I'm going to apply for a part-time job at Domino's, to go along with my job at the Quality Inn. I work graves at the hotel, and sleep in the mornings, so working evening for a couple hours at Domino's will work out nicely. Just for the summer. I want to buy a flat-screen TV, and this will let me accomplish that much sooner. I am putting money aside out of every paycheck, as I don't want to go into more debt for just a TV.
Maybe I'm growing up.
Rouge and the Myth of the Southern Belle
3 years ago
3 comments:
Hey Adam, if you run into a kid at Dominoes named Sterling...it's not a coincidence, that would be my little brother! ;0)
Nice! Good to know there is someone kind of known at Domino's!
Okay, I'm officially jealous: My wife won't let me eat pizza and I am absolutely not a pizza afficionado -- I believe that all pizza is Godly.
More to the point here, "Memphis" in your hed caught my eye. My Dad, for years, was a reporter at the Memphis Press-Scimitar. I'm not going to tell you the stories he wrote, suffice it to say it was in the late 20s. (I followed his lead, incidentally, and worked for several papers, including one major national one for more than 20 years).
In any event, he'd tell me stories about the town and the room in which he lived: It was literally in a whore house: "Not that I partook of the merchandise," he'd say to me, "however, a reporter living there was good for business -- the law stayed out and my rent was $7 a week."
He went to lead a Pulitzer team at another paper a few years later. The story had to do with the KKK and sending a governor to jail.
I never won a Pulizer, or was even nominated for one. However, in my early years as a reporter I worked for what then (and probably now) a little paper in NC, the Mechlenberg Times. They sent me to Akron to cover the Soap Box Derby. The first night there I was in some "down home" saloon and met a hooker -- I wound up writing a story about the only whorehouse in Akron at the time, getting fired from the paper and going to the Washington Star then on to my final newspaper job.
You keep going Adam and remember: "All skill is in vain if an angel pisses in the flintlock of your musket."
You've a good venue here, in my view, and I enjoy it.
Best,
/r
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