Morninghater

Out of the granite and into the green

Friday, August 18, 2006

Short takes on a strange place - Part 2

Looking East out of our 3rd story apartment here in Astoria, one's eyes are almost instantly drawn to this place across the street, "Cafe Bar". Wow, what an ingenious name for a drinking establishment. You would think the proprietors of this place would have put a bit more thought into the name of their bar. But I bet they are big, fat, lazy shitheads whose only objective was to get a bar built quickly and try and make some money. We never go there. We just leave the tables available for the hordes of Euro Trash that seem to be the bar's only occupants. Any given Friday or Saturday night yields an insipid, smoking, lame-ass fashion jeans wearing crowd. Let them have their pretentious, boring, expensive drinks bar.

There is a bizarre opportunistic mindset here in Astoria, not just with bars, but with any available commercial/retail space. It seems dozens of them crop up every week. Where there once was a vacant, decaying storefront, now there is a brand new cell phone shop. Where there was once an old deserted bakery, now there is a brand new Greek night club. These places are so funny to me. Especially these so called "night clubs". They are all mostly Greek dominated, and are always packed, even into the wee hours of a Tuesday night. My roomates and I call them "Astoria Fancy". These places, like Cafe Bar, are generally filled with snarling, smoking people of unknown European race. These people do not seem especially friendly, they just shout at each other in the context of a seemingly normal conversation. I suppose that's just how they communicate. Seems/sounds frustrating to me.

Some people reading this might be thinking that I am a racist. I am no racist, just a little xenophobic and agoraphobic (I typically do not like being in the midst of too many people--they make me nervous and I get panicky. I can admit to that.) I hate racists and bigots. I'm just offering some social commentary about the area in which I live. I'm positive that if I lived in, say, Nashville, TN, then I would be writing right now and complaining about the overly large number of hick bars, real bigots, and Western music. It goes without saying that I'd probably be equally as miserable living in any heavily populated area of the world. Doesn't matter who lives there, it's just the fact that there might be too many of them crammed into one small space. I guess I just don't like people in general. It's a double edged sword, really. I can say that I don't enjoy being around too many people, but if they were suddenly gone, vanished like in a Twilight Zone episode, well then I would probably feel extremely lonely and even more depressed.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling positive and things are actually going my way, I might look around and feel very guilty for the way I normally view life. For instance, I might see an older woman, stooped over and walking down the street toting a big, cumbersome bag, or wheeling a heavy cart of some sort. I'll look at her and wonder what she's gone through, what she's seen in her own life. She seems to have led a life full of heavy burdens, and is now just trying to get by in this extremely fast paced and competitive world. There she is, just minding her own business, weaving around the traffic and loud cell phone talkers on the street. She has no idea what this world has become. It is enough to make me cry, and realize just how easy I have it.

J. Mascis (an extremely cynical man) of the great Dinosaur Jr. once sang, "I feel the pain of everyone, then I feel nothing." This couldn't be more true in my current situation and in my overall worldview.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Short takes on a strange place - Part 1

It occurred to me that my previous post was written in a hasty fit of rage and aggression. Now, those feelings are certainly still in me (for as long as I'm in NYC, at least), but I'm going to try and take that negative energy and attempt to channel it into something a bit more constructive. I want to go back to the early days of my zinemaking stint, my Alstroemeria days.

I almost considered re-naming this blog Alstroemeria, just to keep the name alive and thriving. But, I think Morninghater befits this blog, and I've been doing this for a couple of years now anyway. So I'll just keep the same name, but I want to make it feel like an issue of Alstroemeria. Perhaps this, in a backwards therapeutic kinda way, will keep me alive a little longer.
Here we go:

Short takes on a strange place - Part 1



--Turnstile blues--
hip hop kid
trouble at the turnstile
looks around
feigns interest
struts away
--Clinky beach--
a million shards glistening
weak ochre waves lapping on a brown shore
creates a shimmering sound
remnants of a 2:00 am gathering
some saturday night
--East of nowhere in particular--
whiny accents
against impervious backdrop
steel, iron, concrete, mortar, glass
why do they speak this way?
--Almost around the block--
steaming carts in 90 degree weather
breezes of sizzling meat in every direction
sweaty men slaving over hot grills
the people line up, almost around the block
it's lunchtime in the concrete jungle
walking by, noticing the cook
he winces, tired of the heat, sick of the people
drops of sweat rain down into the meat
nobody cares
the people line up, almost around the block
--Pulled away--
everyone wants to be noticed
and I thought L.A. was bad
here they are outlandish
trying so hard
what will they accomplish?
too many has beens, done it all before
nothing stands out
nothing is original
yet they come in droves
leaving no marks
sad, wretched lives pulled away
away from where they should have stayed
--Blackberry bitch--
she had a Blackberry
technology gone too far
strapped to her side
like a leash
she was controlled from afar
some unseen entity
probably thought it was going to be cool
cool to have this "new thing"
it made her seem important, needed
until the day came for a break
she could not disengage
the Blackberry was now part of her
she wanders her limited world
no escape from the constant buzzing
of her new friend
--Voice in park--
ohhhhhhhh!
ahhhhhhhh!!
moooaannn! groooannnn!
blahhrgggahhhAHHHH!!!
--Poor dogs--
these poor dogs
my canine friends
I see them on the streets
I know they wish to be someplace else
a nice open field, running
but, alas, their owners have issues
they need the company
a million friends is not enough
paws on the surface of harsh ground
I can see their shiny eyes
normally beguiling, full of life
becoming duller
with each passing day
--Subway disconnect--
hard, plastic, orange colored seat
keep slipping down
my bony ass is not made for this
try to ignore, but can't help
keep noticing the sunken expressions
of fellow riders
if I slid all the way and layed upon the crusty floor
not one eye would bat
their minds have all been taken
stolen by this city which they love so much
--I love you, I hate you--
I'll end here, in a bi-polar fit