Many years ago chris roberts, an old friend and former sunday school teacher from way back in the day, taught me a valuable lesson. Outside of this one lesson i recall his strange love for jesus, mystery science theatre, blackjack and zz top. He would often proclaim that he “got elvis in his pelvis” and would then launch into singing a mean blues song he had written about the effects of poor circulation and diabetes (see this post’s subject for the title of said song). He had hot wife named melissa who drank TAB.

So anyway, about this lesson i referred to…its not anything of the spiritual variety. No, it was a valuable lesson in dating. What chris roberts told me (on numerous occasions) was, “jared, remember this one thing about dating: all relationships end at the state line.” I think chris was trying to prepare me for the day i would move away for college and leave my high school sweetheart pining. I shouldve listened to chris back then, for the first couple years of college were full of bouts of fighting and interstate heartbreak and not much fun. Because i dont want to go through all of that again, i have had to make a difficult decision this week. I had to break up with donna johns. Yeah, i know, its tough news. Here is the kleenex website if you need to dry your eyes or blow your nose- thank goodness for Kleenex brand tissue

I know you all have come to love donna very much, and while no one could love her as much as i, such is life. I am moving out of state in a few days, and i have a new life to live. Some of you might be asking, “jared, why must multi-decade-transcending-imaginary girlfriends be constrained by state lines? The very nature of their being dictates that geographic location is of no consequence!” OK, so what, smarty pants!?! Maybe youre right and maybe i just dont like being tied down. Maybe this is my chance to get out and see other people and sow some wild oats. And maybe i dont like being constantly nagged about how “we never go anywhere nice” or “why dont you ever say ‘i love you’ first?” or “you dont really need to eat that little debbie” or “why dont you ever do the dishes” or “who is emiline goulsby?” I cant take that kind of crap and i’m not about to start.

So, here is your chance to say goodbye to donna johns and pay your respects. Forget about brad and jenn or brad and angelina. jared and donna johns was the relationship of the decade. Post your comments below. I’m gonna go drown my sorrows in some TAB and think about melissa roberts.

so i think that the handful of you people who read this crazy mess have figured out that i get really bored at work. and boredom is pretty good for the imagination, but i havent decided if its any good for poetry. ive always been quite fond of the the victorians like tennyson and poe, the romantics like shelley, byron and wordsworth and the free verse of william carlos williams. despite my affinity for reading poetry i suck at writing it. and yet i try it anyway. and today, outside of staring at emiline goulsby, i have crapped out a few lines. my goal was to write a poem each time i hit the ’scan’ button on the scanner (i got a summer job as a digital archivist, if you didnt know). i didnt want to think too much about what i was writing (and it shows), so its all sort of automatic and unedited.

so now that i’ve dispensed the self deprecating caveats, here’s what ive come up with between the past 5 or 6 documents ive scanned. i really have no idea why i am sharing these.

I

thumbs too much
or yours
yellow, brown
downtown
going that way
toujours
held high
sang low
this and such.

and then

towers over there
bird perched
not for long.
sing its song
like at church
but i cant
for i have
nothing to wear.

———————————

II

trees rustling
in the wind-
a long road under
secadian song
over an ancient rhythm-
chirping
ess you vee
drives by

———————————

III

tail pipe spittin game
going on
after a drinking rage-
its gas guzzlin
feet poundin
flower petal to the metal
tail lights shine
all the way home
where my heart is.

———————————

IV

4:28pm-
a chill-
a shiver-
a shout-
yawn.

———————————

V

sunny day-
far away-
in that direction-
long road-

a long distance
with resistance-
designs to go on
those maps-

to sunsets
and mooncrests,
but dispositions
like this

come and go
and you know
well that all of these
things change.

———————————-

VI

blue glow and waves of white-
a wash of subdued sound-
a scream from down below
on the street-

i am sitting up,
looking from a window
with blinds barely open
to keep out the heat.

then they are parted
and a look is given
to whence the scream came.
there is no repeat,

only an echo.
the look becomes a stare,
the street a memory,
a time machine my seat-

and its all rolling back-
the pavement to dirt
and the place i sit
pulled down brick by brick.

so i hover above
and the town transforms,
85 years go by
with the clock’s single tick.

the trees get smaller
and get big again.
all time in reverse.
and so i pick

a place in the distance
that hasnt changed at all.
my ears are ringing,
and playing a trick-

the echo is growing,
and i find its coming from that umoving place
where the sun sits in the clouds
and screams in an awful heat.

damn my roving eye!

its so difficult this day and age to be a man of fidelity. everywhere you turn there is a barrage of seductive women, all of them tempting with their “come hither” stares and scantily clad greased up bodies, photoshopped faces, dye jobs and plastic parts. they are in the magazines, on the tv, their sultry voices whisper over the airwaves. they are why the internet exists. they hock sexual pleasure along with toothpaste, hamburgers and automobiles. its so hard to not look, to not be a voyeur in this peep show of a society. and its even harder to do it and not get caught.

so rather than keeping the secret ill just go ahead and admit my faults and admit to my pig headed neanderthalic behavior and expose my roving objectifying eye. my multi-decade-transcending-imaginary-girlfriend donna johns is gonna be so pissed. but i cant help it, not when i am forced meet chicks like emeline goulsby, class of 1932, every day at my archiving job…

oh, emeline. i suddenly have the urge to buy some toothpaste, eat a burger and drive a sports car.

So the other night i am sitting in a wide open field with the beautiful donna johns and we are discussing the meaning of life and the cosmos as the meteors showered over us. It was a beautiful night (in fact, the whole weekend with donna was just magical…more to come in a future post). Donna surprised me by talking about astrology. But i shouldnt have been surprised. She is from the sixties, remember? And girls in the 60’s were all over astrology. Anyway, she starts talking about how i am in a period of my astrological calendar called the ’saturn return’. She said, and i quote:

“The saturn return is the ending a phase of life that is familiar and embarking on one that is new and untried. It is often unsettling, even painful. It usually occurs sometime between ages 28-30, for it is the first time the planet Saturn completes its cycle through your birth chart and returns to the spot it occupied when you were born. Few people describe Saturn Return as a pleasant period. While undergoing your Saturn Return you may find yourself turning inward and reflecting on your individual destiny. You examine your true needs and desires and the role you want to play on the world’s stage. You may feel lonely and alienated from those around you, while family and friends think you are shutting them out. But this is a necessary period of consolidation, when you must retreat from the distractions of the outer world and focus on yourself at your most fundamental level. The Saturn Return is every individual’s search for the Holy Grail.”

Now, while i think donna is just the most, i really am not into astrology. In fact, ive always identified with what jim morrison had to say about astrology after the end of the live version of ‘roadhouse blues.’ he said:

“Alright! Alright! Alright! Hey, listen! Listen! Listen, man! listen, man! I don’t know how many you people believe in astrology…yeah, that’s right, baby, I…I am a Sagittarius, the most philosophical of all the signs. But anyway, I don’t believe in it. I think it’s a bunch of bullshit, myself. But I tell you this, man, I tell you this…I don’t know what’s gonna happen, man, but I wanna have my kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames! Alright!”

Like jim, i too am a sagitarrius, the most philosophical of all the signs. and a little philosophizing on this whole deal lead me down a long strange trip. You see, Jim really did wanna have his kicks, and one night in paris he kicked too hard and ended up drowning in his own vomit. He was 28, and in his saturn return. He was pudgy and had a beard. This has great consequences. Here is a picture of jim:

About the same time jim is coronating himself as the lizard king, a 26 year old brian wilson is distancing himself from touring with the beach boys and creating music that is much different than the sound for which the band was originally known. Ive been into brian wilson a lot lately…ive seen a few documentaries and read a biography, and he is quite an interesting fellow. Did anyone catch his performance at live 8? I won’t even talk about that. Anyway, we all know what happened to poor genius brian…he found some bad drugs, made 1/2 of smile, went nuts after he thought his music was causing fires around LA and then decided to scrap the record and stay in bed for the 70’s. Whats interesting is that he also grew a beard and got fat. see here:

Anyone noticing a pattern?

On a more contemporary note, beloved grunge-rocker-cum-goth-boy billy corgan also fits within this schema. Billy once fronted one of the greatest grunge bands of the 90’s, only to lose it because of a serious case of megalomania. After the pumpkins disbanded billy made a train wreck of a record with his new band, zwan. It really sucked. He also gained a few pounds and grew a beard:

The trail doesnt end here, friends. No, for the greatest musician is still left.

By the time John Lennon was in his saturn return he had quite a beard and like the others listed above, his life was falling apart. Within his saturn return the beatles broke up and he temporarily split with yoko (which many of you would think was a good thing, but yoko is cool in my book. have you ever seen her conceptual art pieces??). The cia was all over him, he received deportation orders and then spent his “lost weekend” in la, living in a cloud of drugs and alcohol for nearly a year and a half. The only reason he didnt get fat was because his drug of choice was heroin. We all know what john looks like, and we all know what ended up happening to him, too:

There are a number of other bewildering beard biographies:

Brad pitt grew a beard during his saturn return and made some bad movies.

Its always sucked to be amish.

Anybody remember ol’ Blackbeard? He was a son of a bitch.

Then theres this dude, not in his saturn return, but still:

The worst case of all might be Richard Karn. Again, not in his saturn return, but probably still working out of it, poor guy.

And finally, here i am, looking all tortured and melancholic (and unfortunately resembling al borland, as pictured above):

Ive got all the makings of a tragic saturn return: the artistic personality, a bit of extra weight, and the beard. Im not crazy though, or at least thats what my multi-decade-transcending-astrology-loving-imaginary-girlfriend says. All thats left for me to do is put a sand box in my bedroom and get coronated by some genus of reptile. Or i could sell all my electronics and get my amish on.

Or maybe i should just shave.

thats right, friends. i got a hot date tonight with a hot chick and i can guarantee i wont get her home until after midnight. woo-hoo!

the few of you readers out there might now be saying to yourselves, “who’s gonna date jared? girls dont like jared. they either refuse to return his calls or just want to be friends.” or, “wow, i thought he was gay!” well, i must refer you all to yesterday’s post that continued the story of mi petit amour, my muse, the beautiful donna johns.

yesterday i speculated that donna and i might go out to the sonic for a malt and then out to the dam to neck, but plans have changed. the cosmos has shifted, the planets aligned and tonight space will be our theater. you see, tonight, sometime between 1am and sunrise, the dross of the Swift-Tuttle comet will collide with earth’s atmosphere and provide a show of shooting stars in a spectacular meteor shower. the event happens annually and is called the Perseids, for the apex event usually occurs near the double star cluster of the Perseus constellation. The Perseids have been recorded for thousands of years, but were given the name of “The Fiery Tears of St. Lawrence” sometime after Laurentius, a christian deacon, was roasted to death by the Romans at this time of year in 258AD. legend has it that while ol’ larry was broiling he cried out, “I am already roasted on one side and, if thou wouldst have me well cooked, it is time to turn me on the other!” consequently (and ironically) his “feast day” is august 10.

this is getting more and more romantic, isnt it? somehow ive convinced myself that chicks dig a guy who knows history and how to point out the stars in the sky by name. that may not be the case, but donna digs it. she’s just the most.

so to all you fellas out there, take your girl (whether she’s real or a multi-decade-transcending-figment of your imagination) out tonight and go stargazing. memorize the story i just told, retell it like you own it, and point to any 2 stars that are close together and call them the Perseus constellation. thats right, just pick any 2 stars…she probably won’t know the difference…then wish upon one of them and you just might get lucky.

3 out of the 4 or 5 of you out there who read this blog might remember an important date, a date that will remain forever in my heart and memory, the day that valentines came late, june 10th. summer had begun, the birds were singing, the sun was shining and there was a cool breeze in the air. life was good, i had a spring in my step, and cupid was steady with his bow. june 10th was the day that i fell in love. i fell hard for donna johns. oh, donna johns.

i have been ridiculed for my passion and undying affection, yet i will not fail to dote on the beautiful brunette of ‘68 and proclaim my unabashed obsessive fixation from the highest mountain tops. but what is it that spurns me to write about mi bella donna today? well, i found a new photograph of donna today in one of the books i am archiving at work. isn’t my decade-transcending-imaginary-girlfriend just the most? check her out.

and joey, dont get the wrong idea, buddy. she’s all mine, and if you try anything i’ll kick your ass.

tomorrow im gonna bring some scissors and cut out her picture and take her on a date. i think we might go to sonic for a malt and some tater tots. then if i’m lucky she’ll let me take her out to the car park at the damn so we can steam up the windows.

lucky you. you get to suggest the word that shall be placed in the red box on this collage. i sat here for 10 minutes without a clue as to what to as to name this thing. so, fire away. this is the big chance you’ve been praying for. go ahead. click it.

for any of you that have recently spoken to me on my cell recognize the above statement. you think i cant hear crap because my phone sucks or i have bad service. usually, i blame it on my own hearing. see, my ear drums are scarred because ive perforated them so many times. the last big ear drum burst was the result of an ill landed jump i made off a 40 foot cliff into the waters of smith lake. but the reason i cant hear isnt because of any of that. ive decided to come clean. its the voices…you know, the cliche movie kind: “the voices in my head.” so now rather than ignoring them and covering it all up with the ruse of poor hearing and bad cell serive, i have decided to do two things. one, come clean and admit to everyone the truth. and two, to actually obey what the voices inside my head are saying. i think its gonna be sort of like ‘obeying my thirst’ and drinking sprite. except that i generally ignore my thirst and i’ve never liked sprite. except that one time that i shared a can with jennifer when i was 15. jennifer ended up becoming my high school sweetheart. she is a model now, go figure. i didnt like sprite then either, but sharing a can of sprite was about as close to kissing a girl as i had ever gotten at that time. i couldve cared less what the contents of the can had been.

so anyway, back to those pesky voices. they are telling me to give more high-fives to people. not only that, but i am supposed to call “high-five!” out loud as i raise my arm and open my palm to potential high-five friends. tomorrow i am supposed to drive out into the country and park my car and throw my keys into a multi-acre patch of kudzu and then walk back into town and stop in the winn-dixie and give the old guy who looks nothing like ed asner or the dad from happy days a big wet slobbery one. after that i am to buy a pack of cigarettes but not smoke them, just stand around and do that box pat thing that all the smokers do before they pull out a smoke. then i am going to say hello to every person that walks in until ive said “hello, welcome to winn-dixie, home of the lean ground round and charlize theron’s least favorite place to shop” 38 times. after that i am going to the blood bank. ill give a pint or two of mine or david schwimmers blood and eat the crackers they give me like a rabbid squirrel. my squirrel-like behavior with literally drive me up a tree, where i will sit and have an exestential crisis involving the olsen twins, lysol disinfectant and johnny cash’s ‘five feet high and rising’ played 84 times backwards while i contemplate just how ive gotten this far and where do these voices really come from. all that while coming up with a strategy on how to live the rest of my life as a former vegan transvestite scrabble champion. my musings will all end once i climb out of the tree and find somebody wearing long sleeves and blue jeans. then ill give them the johnny cougar mellencamp ‘hurts so good’ bad touch and itll all be a-ok.

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