On the road

I've just been able to post this now, even though it was in the news a few days ago. Jack Kerouac's original "On the Road," before it was f'ed with by the publishers, is being released next year. I read that book when I was about to start my senior year in high school...I bought it for 50 cents at a flea market. Best 50 cents I ever spent. Opened up a whole new world for me, I think, just like "Tom Sawyer" did when I first read it in 5th grade. It took me a while to get into that because of the diction Twain used, but once I got over that, the book had me, and I devoured pretty much everything else he wrote.
Anyway, back to Kerouac:


'On the Road' to Be Published Again
(AP) LOWELL, Mass.

Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" will be published in its unedited original scroll version by Viking Press, which published the Beat Generation classic in September 1957.

John Sampas, executor of the writer's literary estate and brother of Stella Sampas, Kerouac's third wife, said he has signed a contract with Viking, an imprint of Pearson plc's Penguin Group USA. He hopes the work will be out by the end of next year, the 50th anniversary of the publication.

"Incidents in the original were edited out of the published version because of the censorship of the time," said Sampas, who noted that some of the edited sections refer to drugs and sex. "On the scroll, entire paragraphs are crossed out and not included in the published version."

Sampras said the new version will be in book form, but taken from the original scroll. Any sections Kerouac had crossed out before turning it into the publisher will be excluded in the new edition.

In 1951, Kerouac, hopped up on coffee and Benzedrine, sat at a typewriter and began retelling the tale of an aimless trek he made across America. In a spontaneous, stream-of-consciousness burst, he typed on long sheets of tracing paper, taping each finished page to the previous one to form one continuous, rolling text.

Published six years later, "On the Road" won critical praise and became an icon of the post-World War II subculture of intellectuals, writers, musicians and rebels who identified with the freedom of Kerouac's cross-country odyssey and embraced his disdain for 1950s conformity.

The original, 120-foot, coffee-stained scroll that is yellowing with age was purchased in 2001 by James Irsay, owner of the Indianapolis Colts, for $2.43 million. The scroll is touring U.S. museums and libraries.

A movie outside

My little town organized a movie in the park - Back to the Future - last evening, so I went to check it out. Of course, I've seen the movie God knows how many times already, but why the miss the chance to see it again on a big screen when I could be one with the humidity and swat away the bugs. Eh, It was fun! Can't beat watching movies outside. I wonder why Drive-Ins have died...I suppose it would be nervewracking having a business that relies on good weather.
I remember seeing it in the theater...oy! It was such a fun story, and I dug the idea of time travel. Now, I'd probably go back in time to invest in Yahoo and Microsoft. Call me practical.

Dead white guy poetry

I'd love to say I read this poem long before they used it on the series finale of Frasier, but that's not the case. Never been a big fan of poetry, but I like this.
I promise this is the most pretentious I'll ever get.

Ulysses
by Alfred Tennyson
It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vest the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers;
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breath were life. Life piled on life
Were all to little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle-
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me-
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads- you and I are old;
Old age had yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
[1842]

The mother of all sledding hills

I was nature boy today and went exploring...specifically to an abandoned old ski hill - with the requisite decrepit ski lifts - one passes on the way to the Howell Living History Farm off of 29. I've wanted to check it out since the first time I saw it years ago...
I thought it was closed off, but one can apparently walk all the way up the hill to take a look. I avoided the flock of canadian geese who had made their home on the hill, and I also picked some wild raspberries on the short hike up. Once you get up there, you are afforded a nice view of the hills and farms...and a rock quarry. I think that once the leaves fall the winter, the view will be much more extensive.
One has to wonder why this place was abandoned. It makes for a perfect sled hill. Now, it's amazingly still.
Also, in that little buidling shown in the photo, there was a fairly unworn chair leaning on the wall. That was kinda weird.

Drive

Instead of watching a repeat of some boring TV show, I proved that I am just one of Foreign Oil's many bitches, and I went for a little car ride. Granted, I toned it down a bit and stayed within my state and county. OK, I really didn't go that far at all...just down to Princeton...but I did get an errand done, so at least I can say I had some purpose.
I passed by my usual spot, Small World, but decided against heading in. Brought me back to a time four or five years ago when I was there all the time. I would sit there close to the window and write in some sort of journal or read a book or something. I can't seem to find any of those journals now (not that that is such a bad thing), and I'm kinda wondering why my trips there are now relatively infrequent. It's a nice, relaxing place to hang out.

Sunday

I hate taking cold showers, something that is entirely inconvenient when one does not have hot water in the apartment.
Harumph.
I'm not really sure what caused this lack of hot water business, but we did have some vicious storms over the last few days, so maybe that was it. Regardless, I can't really go check out the water heater, as it is located in the basement apartment (which actually flooded when we had heavier rain a few weeks ago.)
I tried to reach the landlord, to no avail, so I will have to try again. I might also try the gas company...
All I know is that it made me even more grumpy and irritable than how I was when I woke up (and I'm not usually like that.) When I am irritable, I can be mean, sarcastic and caustic, so I had to keep myself in check, because that's totally against character and I didn't want to come across as an asshole.
I saw Clerks 2 on Friday evening. It doesn't match the first one, I don't think, but it was an enjoyable 1.5 hours anyway, so that's all that matters.
I have more to write, but at the moment I have neither the motivation nor the inclination. Blech.
UPDATE - Cold showers certainly help to wake you up. Almost as good as caffeine. Almost.

Rain

I'm looking outside at the moment, and it looks as if the weather is about to do some funky-ass shit. The clouds are an ominous shade of gray, there is lightning everywhere, and I could have sworn I just saw one of the horseman of apocolypse trott by on 518. And, of course, you know where one horseman is, the others have to be there too. That guy never gets that oh-so-important time alone.
Did I mention the wind?
Also, the electricty in my apartment can't decide whether it wants to stay on or off. I've had three short blackouts in about 15 minutes.
Should be an interesting evening!

Only you and goats can prevent forest fires

When you are presented with a headline like this, off of Yahoo News no less, you are almost obligated to post about it:
Goats unleashed in Calif. to help prevent fires

Out of doors

Soundtrack

open itunes and shuffle songs. hit next for each heading. enjoy!


What kind of freakish movie would this make? Sheesh!

Opening Credits: Leaving New York - REM

Waking Up: Knowhere - David Gray

Falling in Love: Ostriches & Chirping - Elliott Smith

Fight scene: Revival - Me Phi Me

Breaking up: These are the days - Van Morrison

Getting back together: Heading Home - Jack Johnson

Secret Love: She's Got a Way - Billy Joel

Life's okay: Backstreets - Bruce Springsteen

Mental breakdown: Some people never know - Paul McCartney/Wings

Driving Flashback: One - U2

Partying: Say you love me - Fleetwood Mac

Happy dance: Against the Wind - Bob Seger

Regretting: Don't Know Much - Aaron Neville

Long night alone: Not a Second Time - The Beatles

Death Scene: Last Dance - The Cure

End Credits: Leave Us Alone - Joseph Arthur

The time warp that is VH1 classics

VH1 Classics is strange. Earlier this evening, I saw videos from Teena Marie and New Edition, back to back, which reminds me how weird it was to grow up in the 80s. At one point or another, I must have thought that the way the people looked in the videos was normal, and frankly, that's just plain disturbing.
Tomorrow, my sister comes into town, and I finally get to see the latest addition to the family, little Giovanni. That should be cool!

Phone it in.

I've been staring at this screen for about 10 minutes now. I thought that I had something to say, but apparently, I don't.
I was talking with G. today and he said something I thought was so funny that soda almost came out of my nose. Almost.
Me: She checked out early, and then waited for me to say something.
Greg: I'm doing the same thing with work.
I guess it's funnier in context.
Actually, I guess it isn't that funny, is it, to dislike your job so much that you just end up phoning it it.
Blech. Sometimes being a grown up is a drag, but I'm not convinced that being a kid is all that great either. Especially these days. Things were simpler growing up in the 80s.
On an unrelated note, my sister from knoxville is coming up here for an extended weekend with the newest addition to the family, Giovanni. Very excited to see them! I think we may hijack my parents place in the poconos for a bit, so I'll be able to introduce her to the processed meat heaven that is Hot Dog Johnny's. Ah, the simple pleasures.

California

I've wanted to go to California so that I can see the Pacific for years, and that traveling bug is coming on awful strong, so I think I'll take a long weekend in either August or September to fly out there and say hello to the West Coast.
It'll be my birthday present to myself.
I'll most likely fly into San Francisco. I don't think I'll want to do too much in the city itself, but it's as good a place as any to start from. I would like to visit some of Jack Keruoac's old haunts and check out Haight-Ashbury so that I can at least say I've been there. Sounds touristy, but hey, I'm a tourist.
From there, I'll head down the coast to Big Sur, stopping off at Salinas so that I can check out the National Steinbeck Center (I don't have an English degree for nothing.)
Those little side treks aside, I just want to stick my feet in the Pacific and watch at least one sunset from the cliffs over the ocean. I imagine the colors are amazing.
Anyway, I've been saying that I'll go to California for years, so I think this year I might actually do it.
Life's too damn short.

Dylan

I caught the last half of No Direction Home, the documentary on Bob Dylan, last night. Very gripping, so the first thing I did was put it on my netflix queue...however, that may just be something I'll have to buy to have in my collection.
I love how he dealt with the media - he did not suffer fools greatly - and how everybody tried to make him the savior of folk music...those same people would eventually boo him when he went electric.
Anyway, Bob Dylan rocks, so I highly recommend it. I'm pissed I never caught it when it played in the theater.
Talking about theaters, finally there's a movie coming out this weekend that I've been looking forward to, the new Pirates movie.
"And really bad eggs." Drink up me 'earties. Yo ho.

Wiping off the dust

I just realized I haven't written in this thing for a week. I suppose the time has flown by in a blur of (in)activity...spent biking, movie watching, visiting the brother...
And, last, but not least, hiking up to Machu Piccho! I'm writting this from the Starbucks (just opened!!) at the base of the mountain. Who'd have thought they'd have wireless high speed Internet in the middle of nowhere in Peru?
What else could I possibly need? Why would I ever want to return to work?
After this, I'm having a T-shirt made..."I hiked up Machu Picchu, but no one was home."