MotolovE

I just want people to think I'm Cool.

Is that so wrong? I don't think so, yet I constantly feel ashamed that I yearn for the approval of fuck-ups. And that is how it works. If successful people like you, you are a suck-up. But if wastoids, losers and drunks like you, then you are COOL.

See, I used to be the poster boy for wastoid/loser/drunk. I even did a four college lecture tour on the subject. So I had nothing to worry about- I thought I was cool, so I was!

But now, the coolness is layered. Hidden behind 20 extra pounds, job acceptable clothes and non-objectionable language and hair is all that cool. But it's starting to bubble over, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it under wraps.

'Tis a season of change, my friends, and it may be time for some cocoons to be broken.

Of course I'd feel cooler if just one of you assholes would leave me a comment!

...

See what I mean?

Mission:

Go to Google.

Type in 'miserable failure'.

Hit 'I Feel Lucky'.

Then laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh.

I just need a funky bass player.

OK, if you are young and ready to take on the rock-n-rollover scene, here's some advice for you:

Learn to play Bass.

Everyone needs a bass player. Only The Doors got along without one, and truth be told, they did have a studio guy. But every other wanna-be, gonna-be, shoulda-already-been band on the planet will only go as far as their bass player takes them.

And good ones are rare. Look at the evolution of funk: the Godfather, James Brown and the Funkmeister, George Clinton- though 15 years apart- used the same guy because he was the only one who could bring it right.

Oh, his name is Bootsy Collins. Werd.

So, learn yourself some bass. You don't really even need to be that good or attractive. Hell, Flea taught himself bass and he's considered one of the best.

Remember kids, if you want to be a roller, pick up that four string.

And then call me, because dammit I need a bass player!

My brother is on his way to greatness.

This just in from the Sibling Rivalry department:
My brother just landed a gig as a television anchor.

Did that sound as weird to you as it did to me?

Yep, little brother #1 has landed a gig as an anchor on an evening news program in the Midwest. He'll be part of one of those news 'gangs' that we all love so much.

And I am finally getting to plan my dream vacation:
Go somewhere and watch TV.

OK, I admit it doesn't sound real fun. But for some odd reason, I love to watch TV in hotel rooms. It has to do with the absolute lack of anything which reminds me of my real life. I can pretend that nothing matters, and that I live in opulence. Or at least cleanliness.

I also get a kick out of seeing other cities local television. It's my tele-sightseeing thing, don't you know. My wife will also attest to the fact that I love being able to watch TV and lay in bed at the same time. Heaven.

So, now I want to plan a little v-cation. Nothing major, just a few nights in a little city in Midwest America where I can watch my little bro tell me all about the world.

"And now here's Dan with the weather..."

I hate the MTA.

I know that is no surprise for most of you, but this is what I got for my two bucks today:
An hour and a half commute to work. I got to see the inside of the East River tunnel and then got to walk to work from 1st Ave and 14th Street.
Hooray!

And then- AND THEN- I get to work and read this report about how most subway employees have only the most rudimentary of safety training, and how a mentally unstable person caused a near catastrophe by throwing a fire extinguisher onto the third rail yesterday.

I feel so safe in the subway. Underground. Beneath the river. Pre-entombed.

Fucking MTA.