Personal Shit (or is this just another ego trip?)

Hanging out with Ben Franklin, protesting the war, the lies and the loss of freedom and privacy

Many of you have seen me about, and many of you have seen my photos. There must be at least six or seven of you who read this blog, when I post something. Thank you. Recently, a question has arisen. It was expressed this way:

Kitchenpoet, who the fuk-r-u?

I'm not sure where to start. When I talk about being old, my young friends say it's bullshit, and I'm as young as anybody they know. I understand what they mean, because I am fairly spry for an old coot, and I am often ready to give up a little sleep for some good music. However, I have accumulated some aches and pains over the years, and sometimes I just want to whine about them. When I catch myself, I am reminded of people who have real troubles. That's easily done these days with the tragedies of Chile and Haiti. Also, I never forget how our empire, in its endless quest for natural resources, wealth and power, has killed over a million in Iraq.

I don't want this to turn into another rant. Must remember to stay on purpose, and answer the question. I'm not sure I can say exactly who the fuk-i-r, but I can describe myself and my life a bit. Is anyone really interested in this shit? Ok, we've covered whining and ranting.

You can teach an old dog new tricks, and I am living proof of that. I have become stuck in my ways now and then. I really became stuck over the last term of Daylight Savings Time. My alarm was set for 6:30, and I woke up 5-15 minutes before it went off, in order to catch the 8:15 Northside bus downtown. DST ended, and I found myself waking up between 5:15 and 5:25am every morning. Maybe I've finally broken that programming, as I have slept to 6:15 the last two mornings. The return of DST is going to fuck me up all over again.

My day always starts with coffee, not just caffeine, coffee. I drink tea occasionally, and I have an assortment of green, black and herbal teas, but giving up coffee for tea has never worked for me, and I have tried more than once. I am establishing a stretching routine, after much procrastination, although my Partnership Clinic doctor has been insisting every time I've seen her for a year. Breakfast is a must, and usually I cook my own, using eggs and vegies with toast, trying to do old-fashioned oats twice a week, and occasionally having Uncle Bill's sausage or going out as a treat. Usually I can't afford those treats.

My growing maze of mailboxes sort incoming into online ordering, political shit, old and new friends, business,  and facebook. I check them every morning, followed by facebook since I recently joined. Then it is time for the comics, because Readers Digest was right about one thing: Laughter IS the best medicine.

If you can't laugh...

Only after a good laugh, do I attempt the news, going first to the BBC, which is much more objective than most US news. If you want to understand the Middle East, reading Haaretz and Al Jazeera is also required. Sometimes the news breaks my heart, and I have had long news fasts in my life. Sometimes the news pisses me off, and I must rant.

For over a year, the next step, M-F, was to head to the Missoula Art Museum for four hours, as my job with Experience Works, the job program for old farts. Learning something new has always pleased me, and I learned a lot at MAM. I quit in November to be one of three rotating Santas at Southgate Mall. Learned a lot doing that, too. When Christmas put an end to that gig, I hung by my fingernails, until social security began on January 21. It will be three or four months before I catch up to the point of having discretionary cash for things like new shoes, etc., but I am on the way to recovery. God bless social security. Join me in telling the greedy fuckers to keep their hands off of it.

Am I retired? Hell, no. Now, I can do my photography full time.

Once upon a time, in the city of angels, I played Siddhartha in the city, learned some skills, became a merchant and earned good money. My social security goes back to that time, paying me twice now what I was making working at the museum. The bastards tried to talk me out of taking early retirement, promising more $ to make the four year wait worthwhile. First, I put in my time, over 40 fucking years of good, bad and totally chickenshit jobs, with good, bad and totally chickenshit bosses. Second, it is possible in four years the dollar won't be worth used toilet paper, and I want to get mine, while the getting is good. Third...

People have assumed I made the move to digital from film. I was too clumsy to handle film and was delighted when digital took over, because it was so much easier. All my life I wanted to create art and felt a failure and then came digital photography. I was a wage slave in a Wal-Mart Supercenter at the time, and used my xmas discount to buy the first Digital Rebel by Canon.

After years of being digital boy, I'm going to analog learning  print processes and display techniques. My first show was in the Palace in December, and I pulled down my second show, which was in Food for Thought, last Saturday. My next opens this Friday, yes, First Friday, during the gallery walk. It will be in Computer Central, next to the old Raven and more recently Dauphines.

Must go back to work on that project now. Been nice chatting with you. See ya on the scene when you get out for some live and local music.

An Interlude

A bugle was sounding reveille, as I struggled against the waking process. As consciousness returned, I realized the bugling was just my own farting. First Friday left me in recovery mode all day Saturday, and I met today almost ready to roll again. Really rocking is out of the question for a little longer. I may have to cut back to making the scene every third night, because evidently I can no longer even cover every other night. 

Friday was a gas, and I should have some photos up on flickr soon, followed by best of images and a few words here. I knocked out the zootown underground this morning, in order to be less than a week behind. Coming soon: Tuesday at the Palace, with Low Red Land and the March of the Black Queen. Two big stories from First Friday was Ceretana's art and music, and Zeppo tearing the Union Club up. I'll be on that, soon. 

I've spent two days walking and sitting in the sun. It seemed good medicine for the crick in my neck, from too much computer time, and the stress of wondering what the next job will be, when the museum gig ends. 

The old coots' job program is prodding me to spread my wings, leave the nest and find a permanent job. I told them I didn't want a "permanent" job, because that just sounds too long, and because I just want to "keep food on my family" until I turn 62, late this year. I live cheaply and will be comfortable on social security. 

At the moment, finances are anything but comfortable. Some local business compromised a bunch of bank cards, and to protect me, my bank turned my ATM card off. I discovered this when I tried to pay for some photos I had printed. My card didn't work, although I knew there was money in the account. I've received my new card, but not the activation code, and can only access my money by check. There's less money in there, too, because my two week time sheet wasn't faxed properly, and a paycheck was missed. I'm beginning to think the money people are conspiring against me. 

The gone-to-hell-in-a-handbasket economy hasn't touched me so far, because I'm accustomed to getting by by the skin of my teeth. Statistics show three things are selling faster than ever: fast food, booze and guns. The last two seem a dangerous combination. Some enterprises I love are also doing well: museums, libraries and 2nd hand book stores. 

Speaking of museums, come by MAM and check out Sister Corita's art and the books available about her. She's one of my new heroes. She's been gone over 20 years, but in her time she was as revolutionary as Warhol. Fall by the museum and tell them the Kitchenpoet sent you. They won't know what you're talking about, but tell them anyway. 

We Paid for Another Swindle

Everybody keeps saying $700 billion, but the bill passed at $850 billion and that is a minimum, not a maximum. In short, we just poured another trillion dollars down another rat hole, and the economy continues to sink. Kiss that money and the promised benefits good-bye. The only benefit will be to make the rich richer. Timeslip: amount may double.

Thank the powers that be, Bush and his neo-con cronies didn't get social security privatized, or it would be gone, too!

Note: McCain has campaigned for privatizing social security. Of course, he might not bring that issue up right now. Note: Obama supported the bail-out, in spite of the overwhelming public opposition.

I came to Montana from Arkansas, where the congressional delegation was particularly wimpy towards Bushite legislation, but I thought it was different here. Tester is different and I like him a lot, but Baucus appears to be another corporate democrat. I must recontact the Backbone Organization and get more of their "spineless tickets" to send to representatives who sell out. My first one goes to Baucus. That is just because he is the closest and most recent example of a Democrat being a wuss. I want tickets for Pelosi and Reid, too. Who put them in charge?

Our system no longer rewards excellence; it rewards mediocrity. Our leadership is mediocre in every category, on both sides of the aisle. Will someone, please, have the guts to step forward and say we must end this war. I'll send Obama a ticket for saying the "surge" worked. Bullshit! We've segregated Iraq and built walls to keep everyone separated. It's a reverse of the cold war, when the Soviets built the walls.