ten years ago today i was in vancouver

dear rock and roll

matt good invited me up, so i drove up

i saw two of his shows and met lots of my blog friends

as well as some new friends.

in a cool episode, i met smelly danielly for the first time

and i had an extra backstage pass on me for some reason

and i knew she was a huge fan of matts so i brought her back there to see her freak out

but canadians dont really freak out.

it was also, i think, the first time i met chad.

and it was the first time that chad and danielle ever met

and now, ten years later, they are married with an adorable son.

of course i made a photo essay about it because thats what i did back then.

and of course it looks crappy with todays technology aka its not responsive design.

but it brings back some very nice memories of one of my first times in canada.

the problem with kids in america

mary and her friendlook at me. i seem mild mannered. i look reasonable. im sanitary. i read the bible. most of the crimes on my record have been expunged.

but inside im a dirty filthy man.

i relate to mr charles bukowski and drunkards and druggies and losers and rejects and scumbags because if i hadnt caught a few lucky breaks i would ragtagged and imprisoned and probably dead by now.

gone and forgotten.

narry a headstone in a forgotten field in the middle of nowhere.

but God has blessed me and looked out for me and surrounded me with friends from sea to shining sea. and i am grateful, make no mistake, i am.

but i do my best to keep it real, especially when i write things down, because this is whats going to last more than the memory of me or any tomb marker or some jackhole’s biography of my “life”.

so when i was invited to read at a rock show book reading i breathed two breaths. one, the inhale was “oh shit” and the other, the exhale was “just write the dirtiest thing you can, swear a lot, and no one will realize youre a disgusting fraud.”

but then the host wrote an email just the other day saying that kids might be in attendance so make it PG-13 or PG and you should have heard the cursing that went on in my head.

because once again children have ruined everything.

i love my friends, and unlike many, my friends have the most beautiful intelligent talented kids alive. but they just ruined the greatest poetry reading i was about to give.

i havent read in front of people in this entire century. i happen to think that poetry readings should be outlawed. nothing good happens there other than it is a fine remedy for insomnia. if the author’s lucky he’ll get a few phone numbers afterwards but even that will end poorly. but for friends i’ll do anything.

but now, alas ive gotta do something for the kids?

my whole life has been a struggle with people telling me i cant do things. not really, but it feels that way. dont ride your bike on the roof. dont swallow all of the cough medicine. why are you driving strangers around in your car?

but i love my friends and id probs be homeless without them so i will accept the challenge and do the impossible and write something compelling and interesting and violent and sad and inspiring and it will be safe for an innocent little child to overhear.

mumble mumble mumble mumble.