Tag: Cops

  • ODDS and ENDS: Rock Stars in the 70’s, Cologne, and Mr Moustache

    (Won’t you believe it? It’s just my luck…)

    Okay, so if you were to ask me which decade had the better pop/rock music (60’s or 70’s,) I would clearly go with the 60’s. (My Beatles fandom should have given that away.) But what decade was it better to be in a rock band? Well, that has to be the 70’s. The main reason I will say that has to do with how male rock stars looked; which was awful. Sure, some people totally rocked denim suits and had the right hair, but on the whole, honestly, you could look anywhere from “awful” to a “normal guy,” and could be considered a star. You could be a little pudgy, or really hairy – no one cared. It was the “You Be You” decade of rock stars.

    I don’t ware cologne anymore. This isn’t some big choice or stand I am making when it comes to hygiene or scents. No, I have never bought myself cologne. I have had cologne, but that was due to the person I was dating, or wife, buying it for me. It’s just one of those things that never crosses my mind that I need to have. I mean, I think I take pretty good care of my self – again, I believe I have good hygiene. But smell good stuff… Yeah, never think about it. Not that I am opposed, just… you know… Not my thing.

    I am down to the final week of the moustache. Actually, the final nine days. I don’t mind it, but I also don’t think it looks right on me. It’s better than the beard, which I might not go back to for a very long time. I have noticed that people do react differently to me. My guess is that they think I am either a cop or a firefighter. But, more like a cop or firefighter that is compensating for something.

  • Short Story Review: “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton

    (The short story “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton appeared in the September 23rd, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Christoph Niemann

    Funny how a situation, a moment that you are experiencing, can unlock a memory that even sometimes has nothing to do with what you are doing. Walking into my kid’s school the other day, I started to remember being at my grandmother’s house, and how it would smell when she was making apple dumplings. Interesting, how moments in our lives can be keys to the past. Hugo Hamilton’s “Autobahn” plays around with that idea, but in a more dramatic fashion.

    Here’s a super simple description of the story: The narrator, an Irish hitchhiker in Germany, is questioned at gun point by a police officer along the Autobahn, and while being held there, the narrator begins to remember his father.

    This is a very short story, and though it isn’t a flash piece, it had that quality to it. Also, this story did remind me of a song, perhaps because there were two “melodies” happening with the piece; the cop story line, and the father story line. (And then it could be that the story ends mentioning a Doors’ song.) I found that Hamilton did a good job switching between these two narratives, like jumping from the chorus to the bridge, and then back again. Both story lines had the threat of violence to them, which created tension needed to keep the story dramatic, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the narrator was never really in danger.

    What I found most interesting about “Autobahn” were two bits; one was the theme, and the other was the climax. I liked how Hamilton laid out the difficult and conflicting the relationship was between the narrator and his father. How the father could be abusive toward his son, but also encourage his son’s talents, and how circling that square is a never-ending challenge which ends up making memories of the father always close to the surface. Then there was the climax, where the narrator describes a moment when he saw his father at a newsstand, but his father didn’t see him. It was drawn well, and had a lasting but fleeting feeling to it.

    I liked this story, though it did feel light. Like, the story wanted to go to a third gear, so the speak, but pulled back in the last section. Over all, Hugo Hamilton created a very specific emotional moment, that I could relate to, as sometimes you can’t stop a memory from coming up.

  • So Bad, It’s Good

    You have to see this to believe it. Thank you again, Rob Hill, for excellent work in putting this together.

  • So, Why’d You Do It?

    Some jerk smashed out the back window of my car last night. Now I have to deal with cops, insurance and window repair people.

    Though it’s not exactly the same, but Bruce knows what I’m going through.

    I’ll write more later…

  • Thoughts While Alt Side Parking: Rejection

    First of all, it’s cold out. Second, the car that is parked in front of me is like six inches from my bumper, which does hack me off. And third, the traffic cop is here to write tickets, he’s checking cars, but he’s not writing tickets. All of this is very strange to me.

    Seriously, the cop just made a second pass, and he’s still not writing tickets. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not rooting for the guy to write tickets, but if your job is to write tickets, then why aren’t you doing your job? And, we’re all watching him not do his job.

    Anyway, I go that off my chest.

    I got rejected from my fifteenth magazine yesterday. I have one more submission that is floating out there, but being that this piece has been rejected seven other times, odds don’t seem to be good. BUT, I do have three other magazines lined up that I am planning on submitting to, which I will hopefully send off this weekend. I had wanted to get something published this year. Anything, anywhere would have been fine, but you know, things don’t always work out.

    With the situation I am in, the lack of publication, I have been trying to do a round of honest circumspection of my efforts, and see where I need to improve and make changes.

    First of all, I need more material. The last five months of the year I have not been as productive as the first six months. That includes not only creating new work, but also rewriting and editing. Though I am confident in what I have written, I do think the beginning of my stories could use a little more work – refining to better get the story started. I also subscribe to the John Lennon theory of writing – “You got to write a lot of bad songs first before you start writing good songs.” I may still be in my bad song phase.

    Second, I don’ think I submitted to enough publications. Well, I don’t think that, I know that. Just twenty-ish submissions in a year is too low. I should have put more of a priority on researching publications, and prioritizing who I felt would work best with what I write. (This process does feel a bit like throwing shit on a wall, and seeing what sticks.) Funny thing is that this part of the process reminds me the most of my acting days back in Dallas. I really love rehearsing, and performing, but I hate auditioning. So, submitting is paralleling auditioning in my mind, as these are the least fun parts of both processes. Yet, I went on a ton of auditions in Dallas, and I got rejected more than cast, but I did get cast a lot, because I went on so many auditions. I just have to remind myself of that; you got to show up if you want to be seen.

    Third, I just need to relax. Maybe something will come from all of this work. Maybe nothing will happen. But all of this does give me the felling of purpose, which I haven’t had in a while. I don’t wake up angry or dreading the day. Maybe I am delusional. Maybe I’m lying to myself to think that some unemployed forty-five-year-old guy can just up a start a new career in a creative field that is notorious for being highly unfair, and for those who do “make it” is laughably under compensated. But this delusion has made not as angry at the world. It’s helped me process the passing of my mother, and deal with all of the Covid anxiety. That’s worth something.

    Anyway, I have room to grow, and I also need to do better. Like all things in life, if you want it, it takes hard work. I just need to relax and work harder.

    That was a decent pep talk.

    And just so you know, that cop came by again, and still didn’t write any tickets.

    (So, umm… You know, if you are enjoying this narcissistic delve into my id this morning, then please, by all means, give this blog a like, or share, or comment on your struggles. And I’m open to follows as well.)