MMM Show Poem 8-16-12, Picures of painting

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MMM show writing@ Davey’s Uptown, KC 8-15-12 Weirdo Wednesday Supper Club

Today, I came up with the idea that when talking to or about people, it might be helpful, to try and act as though they suffer from some type of chronic back pain. Nothing totally debilitating. Just some sort of dull pain that makes life slightly more difficult on a daily basis...Life is difficult on a daily basis. And whether it’s a physical problem or what have you it’s just good to be aware of that…for everyone. Sometimes I forget that. As you get older you get more sensitive to that stuff because you actually are starting to feel that physical pain of just existing. But everyone’s got something going on…from the day they were born. I feel like it would help a lot to just assume that most people are overcoming some kind of pain or distraction in their life, to some degree, just to muster the ability to focus enough for a conversation with another human being. I think it’s good to appreciate that.

I was walking on the sidewalk the other day on my way to the park and a kid driving by in his car made a gesture as if he was pointing a rifle at me and firing off a round. Pow! Right into my chest. He then stared at me madly and cackled as the car whizzed by. The gesture appeared to be completely random. Maybe, he was showing off for a friend. Maybe there was something funny about the way I looked. Maybe he was just bored. I don’t know. But for a second or so it made me feel really, really bad. I know he was just a kid goofing off. I know that. I immediately started to think: what if I would have been an older person. What if someone I loved dearly had been killed in a shooting and I was just starting to feel better about it? What if I were a rich business owner and I had been mugged by some kids before and I was just looking for another reason to give up on the youth of today and devote the rest of my life and money to fucking them over. What if I was some kind of neurotic old man and I wrote down their license plate and called the police and tracked down the kids parents and got into a big dispute that required the cops to issue some kind of restraining order and waste a bunch of tax payer money?

Of course none of this was going to happen. And to be honest it wasn’t even the repercussions of the kids gesture that freaked me so much as the idea that that asshole kid could have easily been me 25 years ago. I use to do stupid shit like that all the time. Like, once a day, at least. And half of the time I couldn’t even in a million years recall why I would feel the need to act that way. It’s a pretty depressing thought if you think about it. So, I just decided that I’m not going to. I’m just going to blame it on that kids back pain. I’m just going to hope that some day, when he’s a little older he’ll come to something like a Weirdo Wednesday and have the intelligence to shell out a couple of buck for a nice massage from Christina.
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My last year in college I lived in a little apartment alone with my dog Olive. At one point I discovered oil pastels and went through a brief period of producing visual art. Recently, on a tour, I picked up some cheap water color paints at the Scrap Exchange in Durham, NC. This is what's been coming out lately:

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DON'T FORGET THIS!