Okay, okay. Hey there. I had to take the new baby to the doctor this morning, so sorry I’m late. Turns out she’s fine but she’s apparently shrunk 3/4 of an inch since her birth. Huh. Nice one.
I’d like to thank everyone for their contributions to the surprisingly heated Forrest Gump debate. That’s good stuff, folks. That’s what the sock drawer is for, after all.
Sheesh. Today is our show. We’re playing at Subterranean to benefit those girls who got brutally beaten. I guess they’re both doing better. That’s good news, right? Sure it is.
I’m excited. I can’t wait to play. Lately my life has been nothing but hospitals and last minute c sections and irrational terror and IRS audits and diapers and late nights and job interviews and getting jerked around by various gatekeeper types, and man, I don’t mind telling you, it’s gonna be nice to get into a room full of friends and just kind of let shit roar a bit.
We’re gonna be doing a variation on the setlists that we were doing on our last UK tour, which was so great that we got invited to some real proper Brit orgies and we even convinced a real live Belfast anarchist to be seen in public with us.
So yeah. That’s that. Today’s also my audit. That’s less fun than the show. It’s funny. There are a lot of people in this world that would rather be audited than stand in front of a room full of people and sing and make up jokes. Today is strong evidence that I’m not one of those people. Which is good, I guess, because no one LIKES being audited, so if I hated being on stage MORE than being audited, well, this would be a really, really shitty day, wouldn’t it. As it stands, it’s gorgeous outside and I’m looking forward to this evening quite a bit. See y’all there.
So, this has been bothering me lately: the iphone…I think this thing is ruining my life. It’s made me eternally dissatisfied. Here’s what I mean: There was a time, not long ago, when shitting was an exercise in solitude, so was walking a few blocks to a bar, so was driving, so was sitting in the waiting room at the doctor or standing there waiting for your filet-o-fish. Hell, there was a time, again, not long ago, when the people you were with were the people you had to talk to. This could suck (I’m at the dumb county fair with my lame parents) or this could be awesome (I’m at this amazing place with this amazing person that may, if I play my cards right, bone me) but it was sort of a given. Here we are in a setting, so lets interact.
It’s not like that anymore at all.
Now I’m constantly on my phone either talking or texting or surfing the internet. This last one is the worst. I don’t have shit to do on the internet. I go to maybe, MAYBE six non vagina related websites and none of them are that important that I need to be wasting whoever is sitting across from me at dinner’s time by checking them. I don’t need to be driving and seeing who may have emailed me. I could probably stand to walk one block in the summer down a beautiful tree lined street and not be talking on the phone to someone who I’ve decided is gonna have just enough things to say to me to get me to wherever I need to be, but not so much that I end up standing around tying up the conversation once I get to wherever I’m going.
The thing is, talking on the phone sucks. So does surfing the internet on a phone. It’s not fun. It’s probably really fucking dangerous, actually. And yeah, driving and reading perez Hilton is dangerous, but I’m talking about just always having this thing by your face/balls/beavers shooting beams in and out. That shit’s bad for you no matter what anyone says. Cows that grow up under powerlines get tumors and die. This is the same fucking thing, man.
Oh, fine. Disagree. I’ll see you in hell and we can talk all about it there.
Nah, just plain old walking and looking around is better than talking on the phone, but this shit’s like an addiction. There’s no good reason to keep compulsively checking my mail or updating my browsers, especially at the expense of the real shit like enjoying a day or being in the park with my kid or hanging out with people I give a shit about. BUT, it’s gonna keep happening, innit? I’m gonna keep doing this shit, no matter how much I intellectually know it’s lame, no fun, counterproductive and dangerous. It’s like smoking or something. Sucks.
The end result is that when I’m not compulsively fiddling with my phone I feel disconnected and edgy and when I AM I feel like A) a dick B) I have no real reason to have this dumb phone and no real pressing things to look at on the internet or in my inboxes C) I’d rather be not looking at my phone…at the very least I’d rather be on my computer.
Really, really great. The only true moments of happiness come when I’m doing shit that makes me completely forget that my phone even exists, like boning or sleeping or playing a show.
Funny thing: I’m only doing one of those things tonight. Can’t wait. See y’all there!
Toodles.
