It's my birthday! And America's too. And wouldn't ya know it, we want the exact same presents: we want it ALL.
I want constantly. I want as a means to cope. On a daily basis I want shoes, clean sheets, the window seat, to be entertained, ANYTHING so long as I want SOMETHING. I mean, what's the alternative? Contentment? SERENITY? Fuck that! Might as well jump off a bridge! Give up 'n go DIE.
And this ravenous monster I've become is the desired result of America's particular brand of capitalism. It is extremely noxious and virulent. It creates in its minions a desire to always want more. And voila! An unstoppable socio-economical juggernaut is created, able to fell lesser economies in a single TV show.
However, this also creates a tragic paradox wherein the richest nation on earth lives constantly in a state of most abject want. For in America, to be is to want. If you've managed to be content in this society, it has not fully socialized you yet. You are a weird and dangerous animal.
But fuck it, what am I gonna do? Change these inbred and costly habits and focus on my nebulous future? No way. Whenever I get down about all my dead ends, I find a pair of shoes or something to obsess about and obtain. If I'm in really dire straights, anything on this list will do. And YOU CAN HELP!! Cards, money, airplane tickets and gifts can be left at the Magic Garden, 217 NW 4th Ave., Portland, OR. Thanks!
WANTED: Musicians with sense of humor and dedication. No druggies, crazies, or people looking for love in all the wrong places. We will play jazz/country/rock/pop, not unlike the Rolling Stones/Doors/Stooges. Especially desired: Piano. Trumpet. Bass. Drums. Slide guitar. Or Jerry Lee/Charlie Parker/Noel Redding/Mitch Mitchell/Jimi Hendrix. But NO crazies/druggies/druggies/ or druggies! Must appreciate a) violin in the Cars "Let's Go," b) jingle bells in "I Wanna Be Your Dog." Guitar players who insist on more than four or so notes a song IMMEDIATELY DISQUALIFIED! Keith Richards, Ron Asheton, or NUTHIN'!
WANTED: Agent and secretary to represent and organize talented but totally misguided artist-type-person with extensive background in film, theater, dance, photography, writing, music and anthropology.
WANTED: My Visa bill paid. My school loans paid. Property in the northern Minnesota wilderness.
WANTED: Clean air and leather pants.
WANTED: An apartment in NYC. Bali. ZANZIBAR.
WANTED: My brother. Where is he?
WANTED: A dog! Some fish. A platypus. A lion?
WANTED: An interview with Chrissie Hynde, Bob Dylan, Prince, or Scottie Pippen.
WANTED: To act. No, to sing. No! To ROCK.
Most of all, though, I want to work harder, achieve more, stand and deliver. But such things require discipline and are easy to forget in the heat of a sighting of $100 Yves St. Laurent (is he an actual Saint?) pumps at Nordstrom Rack.
Is America the same? Heart still in the right place, but Pavlovian in this money-dripping economy? God, I hope so. I hope we get back to the red white and blue basics. Back to the blood, sweat and tears.
Me, all I really need is a drummer, a bass player, and a guitarist.
