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The Typewriter

So if you know me, than you know my tendency to get vintage things. Old things. Things that have some sort of story to tell or serve some sort of nostalgia of a by gone era. A collection of vintage vinyl from as far back as the 50's, a reel to reel 4-track tape machine and other audio equipment from the 60's 70's and 80's, an army jacket from what-seems-to-be the 60's, my amazing acoustic guitar that was hand built in 1979 and my great grandfather's acoustic guitar from the mid 30's. So you get the picture.

The thing I strive for the most is to have not just old things, but things that are still useful and are not just going to be put on display. They must have function and be in a shape to be used when I want to use them. So my latest addition to my vast and growing pile of random and yet interesting items from yesteryear is... a typewriter... ok, so here is the story...

Christina, also being an up and coming vintage nut, wanted a vintage typewriter for her birthday. However, it took until this past week to find one for her. In all honesty, I was not really looking that hard, since they had three at the local Goodwill. So anyway, I found one that was just right for her: sky blue and dark blue two tone with cream white keys that screamed 1970, complete with a case and everything. We took this by gone typing technology home and opened 'er up, put in a fresh new ribbon (which Office Depot still sells!) and it was an instant hit. She loves it, and in turn I just had to go get one for myself. The whole idea of it; the construction and the mechanics of it, the raw analog-style technology, it just hit a chord with me.

CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK BING! ZIIIIIIPPPP... CLACK CLACK CLACK.

I couldn't get enough...

So I went back to the Goodwill and found one just right for me. An old Remington Rand Quiet-Riter, circa 1957. $3.99. A near army green color with gold and black brand writing on it, enclosed in a dark tweed-covered case. I took it home, inspected it... clean and completely functional, and that night I typed out my homework for Organizational Management. Instant love. Over the next few days, I would type just random things about anything, just to type, like it was a video game, passing my time. Every essence about it was amazing and new, and yet seemingly ancient and surpassed.

So my newest item to the collection. The funny thing is all these things have nothing to do with monetary value. The only thing that has a lot of value to it that I have is my acoustic guitar, and that was given to me. Everything else is only valuable in the eye of the beholder, or myself. These things are unique and interesting to me. If only they could talk, I bet they would tell some interesting stories.

Sep. 10th, 2008

So according to LJ, it has officially been 10 weeks since my last post. To be quite frank, I have been super busy and not been able to go and write some stuff down, especially something that is anything close to intelligent and interesting in any standpoint. Anyway, I at least wanted to up date on what is going on in this STRANGE life of mine...

So summer is over and we are into the second week back at school. For me it is like the 4th week, since I had two weeks before school started of RA training. let me just say that through all the bull shit of that, I had a pretty good time. I feel the people this year are a bit closer and possibly a bit more mature in that there is not too much of the drama stuff going around like last year.

School...I am a Junior at NESCom now, and I am feeling the load of Pro Tools II, and the other gen ed stuff that I am taking. I think after last semester, I know what it takes to sit down and actually learn a book cover to cover, and take out of it what I need to do well and actually (whoa) learn something. After the summer of working in the studio (for better or worse) I can confidently say that I love this stuff. I love to problem solve the things that go wrong in a system. I love to work a mix to be something tangible and something worth recognition. I love to talk tech about the stuff. I love it all, and I hope that that will show in this class, as well as any others in the future. After all, when I complete this course, I will be put on a list on Digidesign's web site stating that I actually know what I am doing when it comes to Pro Tools. Oh, and I get a cool shirt from Digi as well... hahaha

Christina and I are happier than ever, and it seems like every time we go through some funky times, we come out of it tighter and closer than before. I am not afraid of our future together, and I feel that we will encourage each other into what we really want to do, and I don't think that we will hold ourselves back at all. I can honestly say that I love her, and she can say that she loves me, and that it the most brilliant and amazing thing I have ever experienced in my life.

so there it is, an update.

Headin' Home...

It's going to be interesting going home and looking at it in a different set of eyes for the first time. I mean, Fryeburg is still a place that I call home, but this summer has brought up my notion of growing up and moving away from that comfort of the town I grew up in, and calling another place home.
It's funny because I never was the kind of person in high school who was went around saying "Man, I can't wait to get out of this hell hole!" I mean, people tend to get annoyed and tired of the place they grew up, especially if you lived in that place from birth all the way through senior year in high school. But when you think about it, that is your original place that you learned and changed so much in. You are comfortable and are familiar with everything in the town. So i never really complained about it since it IS what my childhood and early adulthood was.
Heading home will be awesome, but I find some accomplishment that I call Bangor my home as well. I feel that this is the beginning of my adult professional life, and im excited that it happened so unknowingly...

Crazy Spirals

I get in the truck and drive
destination: relieve this boredom
I head downtown, down back roads,
dark and dirty, mostly sleeping citizens of this small city.
as I turn into the yellow light of main street,
past half-filled bars and drunken stragglers on the street,
I feel this great and interesting thing.
looking back I was thinking of everything around me
there was no music on in the cab,
just the squeaking hum of the motor,
mixed with the clanging of the tailgate,
and the monotonous rubber, turning on the uneven pavement.

Down at the square I find three people,
walking to the middle
giggling with some boozed persuasion listening for that legendary sound
that is Pickering Square.
I had been here countless times,
but this I found peculiar,
almost as if this place was something new for a change.

On down for the waterfront as it begins to rain,
letting the stank smell of a humid summer precipitation fill my nose.
Still, I am feeling tranquil,
and yet until now unknowing of my state of peace.
From here I decide to try roads I had never before,
making mad turns left and right down darker-still back roads outside of the city.

I pass a car that turns around and follows me,
riding bumper to bumper behind me...
There are two kinds of drivers at this time of night:
The guy that is going someplace.
this guy looks for destination,
seemingly rushing his escape from the night,
as if in fear.
He tailgates,
speeds through the dead streets and blinking traffic lights.

On the other hand, there is another type.
Tonight I am this second type.
The person who roams the streets in a beat up truck,
this person takes the night to an advantage.
They find some attraction to the dark road,
and drunken characters still walking them.
I went out on this trip with no direction,
and that is the point.
I have no money,
a quarter tank of gas,
and no time set to come back.
This person sees the night as some deep forgotten mystery
that the day hides with light.
maybe the darkness is what we should see more often?

I light up a smoke while shifting into second down a road I did not know existed.
and through the smoke i imagine what it would be like if this were someplace else.
As i drive back to land marks I know again,
I find it strange that these feel like new places.
Imagine a European side road,
but these buildings look the same.
With these empty streets,
what is to say that I am where I am?
all that is here are buildings and streets and trees and grass and the night sky.
With the lifelessness of the dark streets,
there is nothing to define what is what.
only ones imagination to turn crazy spirals up into the stars.

Tonight surprised me in a way I cannot describe.
It turned out to be something I did not expect
by being something I cannot put to words or make sense of.

Walking

walking around the city at night
tomorrow's summer but tonight is a cool breezy night.
i cross the lined black top under the yellow lights of the night and out into the street
mellow with cars driving by
the red lights streaking in my sight as they break for me to cross the road
and into the dark side street curving away from sight

the breezy rustles the pines and birches around me
creating some sense of being that i cannot see
it hides in the brushes and trees that line the road
and seeps out as dust and grey leaves falling around me.

the sky
lit by the downtown buildings and street lights beyond the apartments
stalks me just outside my vision
glowing greens and yellows and blues
all shaded in a dark gray
about to break above my head

cars slowly pass
seeming to be looking for me
for someone
screeching and humming by
smelling of hot rubber and burt oil
turning around that curve away into the night

the pavement that i am crossing
now turning into another parking lot of an apartment complex
is covered in black-night creatures
leaves and twigs, dirt and grime
to the slugs, spiders, worms, and the like
that yearn for the falling of the daylight to come out and survive the night
this hush and calm night that i find soothing
and yet my mind rushes with thoughts of it all
of where i am
what has happened
but never where i am going
i know my destination
but i am not aware of it until i am there
until then i am fulfilled with my surreal and calm dark night

i come up onto a crest of a hill on campus
turning my head toward the grey-tint sky of the city
and the breeze is blowing a cool hum across my face
and this is my night of alone
my night of silent
my night of walking.

Songwriting (or lack there of)

I sit and try to write something that means something that is significant. I listen to my favorite songwriters: Bob Dylan,  John Lennon, Elliott Smith, Connor Oberst, Jeff Buckley, Brett Dennen, Joni Mitchell, Regina Spektor, Paul Simon. I turn off the music with a dream of a thought in my head and try to write again. A few lines come out, and i read them over and over again, and i decide that they are too cheesy, to clice. i go back to listening. Daniel Johnston, Ben Folds, Rufus Wainwright, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen. "Come on guys, give me an idea!" They tell me nothing.

For years now I feel like i have been the muse of others music. I am confidant in the chord department, strumming some four chord progression that is easy to put something over (or so I think), and I am even more confidant in my voice. but the thoughts can't come, or when they do they are terrible. I have a joke about this, but it is becoming a reality and possibly the reason I cannot come out with the emotion-dripped passages I yearn for. Reviewing my list from above, how many of those artists are/where:

    A) addicted to some sort of narcotic, hallucinajen, or other heavy drug including, but not limited to, heroin, marijuana, cocaine, or LSD.

    B) a victim to a mental condition such as manic depression, insanity, multiple personalities, or the just-plain-crazies.

    C) combination of both A and B.

That is my downfall(kinda?) I am not A or B or C. I'm a generally happy person that doesn't have a messy past that would cause said craziness, and i am not addicted to any sort of drug. So this my default makes my songwriting sub par because I am OK in the membrane.

Maybe I'm aiming to high with my songwriting? I don't know...

My Life Latly:

So this is my first summer completely away from home, and all in all it's going well. I'm keeping busy, surviving being poor all the time, and doing OK. I think Christina is a huge help to that. I've been a bit of a mess lately from time to time, and as much as it can suck, Christina is always there. I love her so much for so many reasons, and that alone means so much to me that she would stand by me when I'm being stupid.

Thus far, the internship at Dan Sykes' studio is going great. Cam and I are really getting stuff done and I think Dan is glad to have us there fixing all the stuff he doesn't know how to fix. It's going to be interesting to see where this project will go over the course of the summer, and how the album is going to sound, which to be honest, I haven't heard much of yet. I can already tell that this audio engineering thing is right for me. I can't imagine any other job being right for me than this. Cam said something the other day that really stuck in my head: "you are such a gear head!" or something along the lines of that.

other than that stuff, I'm just hanging out with Christina a lot, and I absolutely love being up here rather than home for that fact. Last summer nearly killed her and I, and I just can not do that again. We are really good together, and being apart just tears us up both inside.

Well, there it is. Whoever knows me already, that was the little catch up to what I'm doing now.

Talk to ya latas...

new to this...

so im trying out this new thing, and im going to see how it goes. so if ya know me, friend me, and we can chat it up! 

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