Sunday, January 15, 2012

Looking Out My Back Door Part III: What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been

 The night was dark and the hours strange.
     With my posse properly assembled, I lurked and roamed the streets of Manchester looking for something to do.  I was still hampering after that girl from the day before a bit, but decided it was a lost cause. She was from New Hampshire though, and none of us knew what do so my buddy Ettinger asked her what there was to do.  Anyone who’s never been to the city of Manchester better get there as soon as they can.
     I dropped my intellectual sadness over the political conundrum I faced in favor of impulsive delights that would keep me feeling good in short bursts.  We went to a Manchester staple called the Red Arrow Diner and the atmosphere was perfect for a guy like me.  The place was compact, tight-knit, and vintage as all hell; the food was tasty and fulfilling to the brim, plus the waiting staff was composed of a pretty girl and a funny guy.  What could be better than all that?  I’ll tell you what buddy old pal: NOTHING.  With a full stomach and excitement on my mind, I needed another fix.  I got loud and proud, goofed off like there was no tomorrow and felt pretty alright.  A little flirting here, a little joking there, running, jumping, skipping, cat calling, insulting the Ron Paul supporters and the Occupy Manchester dwellers alike, but digging everything all the same; it was grand folks, it was real grand.  
I was on my high horse, lit up a cigarette, stomping the streets with my pals until we got cold.  What was once a fairly large ensemble dwindled down to only a couple of us because the rest were colder and more tired than me, so they decided to take a rest at the Manchester Raddison Hotel.  I have only two words to the overnight security staff of the Manchester Raddison, and those words together compose a pretty common expletive phrase that you can hear just about anywhere without even looking too hard.  I took the final drag of my bogey and went inside, relishing in the warmth and the ebony and ivory keys of a Steinway grand.  Now, fair reader, if you’ve got a Steinway grand and don’t want it being abused by teenagers, either lock it up and keep it out of sight or deal with the lack of musical talent you’re about to endure.  They disagree with me at the Manchester Raddison, and their security guard let my friends and I know it.
Needless to say I was mortified.  I’ve never been one to get embarrassed about much in all my days folks, but when you’re berated by some failure of a man in fake cop Halloween regalia calling himself a “Security Guard” in front of pretty ladies (or, like I said before, handsome men if that’s your poison), to the point that said pretty ladies and other companions want nothing to do with you out of embarrassment, you get pretty self conscious.  We were forced to leave and wander the cold night alone and those old school, Delta blues chords chimed hard in my uneasy mind.  I’m one who loves it all, but when things go downhill, I get to magical thinking.  I start relating all my problems to something bad happening in the future as a matter of fate.  Silly I know, dangerous I know, but you just can’t help yourself from indulging in self-pity from time to time.  I wallowed about, dragging my group down until Suavo gave me the “screw them all” speech we all love so much when we’re down in the dumps and my spirits picked up in a flash.  We raced to the bus, gave the Raddison the finger, spit on the ground it stood on, and started planning what we’d do for the rest of the night.  We had one more trip that I’ll discuss later on, and for that trip the bus would be leaving at 8:30 SHARP.  At 8:13 PM, while cycling through pictures of all the events of the day so far, we stumbled upon a picture from the Red Arrow wherein the waitress appeared to be giving me the eye.  Everybody agreed she was digging on me.  I jumped to my feet with an idea.  I’m gonna get that waitress’ Facebook or phone number just for kicks!  I had seventeen solid minutes for my idea to come to fruition.  Time was not on my side and as I was sprinting off the bus I told anyone who wanted to come with me on my journey to come.  I got a pang in my head that this was a stupid idea that will make me look like a child, but I brushed it away at the prospect of shits and gigs.  Suavo and I ran the many blocks; laughing excitedly, cracking skeptical, cynical jokes about the whole ordeal and how goofy it was but still loved it for that very same reason.
I raced into the Red Arrow and had to pee so I went to the back with a swift swagger and a big smirk on my face.  Suavo followed after I was done, we pow wowed, and I went out there to do the deed.  I could hear Suavo from the bathroom yelling “GO GET ‘EM ROCKY!” and I accosted the situation with a delightfully flirtatious fury.  The exchange was quick for time was short and I kind of pussied out and asked for her Facebook as opposed to going for the full on phone number, but hell I didn’t care there would be no getting it on after this!  I was having more fun than half my detractors and naysayers who said I pussied out.  “F*** ‘em, buddy it was a grand old time!” exclaimed Suavo as we left the Red Arrow with the waitress' name inscribed in purple ink on my left forearm.
When I reached the bus I got praise from some for doing something for the sake of doing something (the real root philosophy behind the whole thing) and received rolled eyes and scoffs from the sorry bastards who don’t dig things the same way I do.  The event that followed (the one I’ll discuss later on) was the first cornet of hope that rang out a reveille in the boot camp of my brain.  At first however, I was being brought down by the overbearing embarrassment I felt for the two stunts I pulled and more so by the fact that I felt mortified about it.  Until the event was over and we were already back at the hotel, my discomfort was written all over my very face.
On the way back we were discussing the event and its relation to the morning’s Facebook debate on Meet the Press.  What a spectacle that was, my friends.  The winner of the debate was David Gregory for showcasing how idiotic all the candidates were and making no bones about it; asking questions that hit them hard and left them gasping for air.  The man’s a beast and a presence I will always respect as a journalist and an American.  I can’t say as much for the candidates, but at least I can confidently say it for him.  I stayed up all night smoking cigars with everybody, playing Frisbee in the cold until some angry middle aged wretch came out in her bathrobe, boohooing about how she couldn’t sleep and was receiving noise complaints.  I think they all should have just come out and joined us; sleep’s a waste of time in this big nasty world if you ask me.  But lo, I digress.  When we went inside we had sing-a-longs (where I got finally bust out my guitar) and turned on more political television to fill our mainline with that sweet news junkie juice.  We couldn’t get enough.  We were desperate for it at that point with our minds swaying back and forth in the information overload breeze, no matter how mad or depressed we got at all of it. 
The next and final day would be the most empty day of the trip in terms of our meetings and experiences, but when you let the Apollonian thinker dance with the Dionysian dancer as Nietzsche would deduce it, things can get crazier than I can summarize with these lowly words.
This was the day that we would see the angriest, oldest, most falsely patriotic and delusional baby with an identity crisis this side of the Yazoo: Newt Gingrich.  I woke up late that morning for breakfast so I ditched that in favor of sleeping late, packing up my suitcase with Pat and leaving the Salem Red Roof Inn for good.  Salem was good to me; the cigarettes were cheap, the breakfasts were good, and the foreign waitress at Sammy J’s wasn’t too bad looking to say the least.  Overall a nice town that I’d raise my kids in if I had any, kudos to you Salem!
The bus was more exhausted than ever because we’d all been up so late, but I still tried to wake up those around me by being louder and more annoying than ever.  Needless to say, it wasn’t appreciated but hell, I tried and it woke me up so I didn’t mind their growls and scowls of sleepy rage.  The whole time I sat there contemplating my position and the primary, and I began to see similarities within both situations.  It was a strange experience, I never thought my philosophical and personal quandaries would reflect the experiences of any politician (especially Republicans), yet I got over that quick and decided to focus on something else.  That stuff was far too deep and troubling for a sleep-deprived, chain smoking Dylan Merrick on an empty stomach. 
The bus meandered its way up to Concord, New Hampshire (where people have one of the funniest accents you’ll ever want to imitate; imagine Frances MacDormand in Fargo and a drunk Sarah Palin; somewhere in the middle of the spectrum you’ll find Concord).  Concord proved to be the final battleground for my battered psyche.
As if the perversions of conservatism I saw at the Santorum, Romney, and Paul rallies weren’t enough, Newt Gingrich opened his rally with the Pledge of Allegiance.  Now, I’m not opposed to the original Pledge of Allegiance, but when the McCarthyists hijacked it to fight the “Godless Commies”, I didn’t appreciate them stomping all over the basic principles of the Constitution to do so even if I wasn’t born yet.  That’s a different fight for a different day though.
Newt’s performance was akin to watching Helen Keller at the junior prom.  I was zipping around pretending to be a member of the "professional media" and got up pretty close and personal with Mr. Gingrich.  From the distance between Gingrich and I, I could smell the propaganda dribbling off his lips and floating lazily into the audience.  More than any other candidate, Gingrich played up his former career as Speaker of the House as if he were Christ talking about his experiences as a carpenter.  In fact, he decided to give us halfway decent folks in the audience a full overview of his entire Congressional career, with extra emphasis on his points with Ronald Reagan (when he WASN’T Speaker) while his swindlers traipsed about the crowd handing out the “21ST CENTURY CONTRACT WITH AMERICA”.  The whole scene felt like I was getting flanked on every side by a well-trained, well-armed Republican syndicate who would use brute force if necessary.  At one point, when explaining his healthcare policy, I began to suspect that rabid police dogs were going to burst in through the exits and consume any detractor that Newt or his cronies deemed too vile for society.  If I was ever at a Hitler Youth rally and not getting chased around with golf clubs and hungry Luger pistols, I’d imagine that it felt a little bit like this to those who were not on the inside loop of things.  It was too well-orchestrated, too controlled, too serious; in the end I couldn’t wait to get out and breathe again without feeling as if with one wrong move I’d end up on a private cargo plane down to Gitmo.
Once the bus was packed and on its way home I decided to sit down to some thinking.  (Please pardon the drop in energy here and throughout this article, it is difficult to gather up all these thoughts and make them as coherent as humanly possible).  Fortunately, as if God reached down from the night sky with a mighty wag of the finger and scolded the Professor for NOT having a debate as a means of jogging my thought process, the Professor decided to have a bus-wide debate that jogged my thought process.  The question that brought on this entire three-part saga came from one of the strongest human beings I know, a police officer who served during September 11th and an all around great guy named Jimmy.  Jimmy and I find ourselves often on polar opposite ends of the political spectrum.  Whereas he supports a lack of separation between church and state, I think any politician advertising a crucifix, Star of David, or Pentagram can go shove it till the cows come home and the same goes for preachers, imams, rabbis, and any religious official infusing politics with their sermons.
Jimmy’s words struck that cynical chord with the audience that always resonates and reverberates loudest, banking from wall to wall, ear to ear, causing everyone to think. “I don’t believe the government cares about us” Jimmy said, “if they did, they’d do something about our problems, but they only make them worse”.  A jolt of some nightmarishly fast electricity surged down my spine and raced around my body all of a sudden.  My limbs sprang into action and I jumped out of my seat; my mouth spat fire and my mind provided the gasoline; the impulse was too great for me to have tried to keep down; where I once dug the scene I was now making sweet love to it down by the sexiest fireplace known to humankind.  
I’ll tell you what fair readers; it’s not that Jimmy was wrong; it’s that he wasn’t completely right.  I disagree with the premise that our government doesn’t care about us, and that is what this trip and the lunacy of primary season has taught me.  What I’ve learned is that the government cares way too much about us.
The government couldn’t give any less of a damn about our sorry little problems.  If we’ve got pot holes, gangs, teen moms reaping the welfare system for benefits while addicted to meth, a tanking economy, no jobs, and a wealth disparity that would make Ayn Rand go “Really guys?  Isn't this a bit much?”, they don’t want to hear it.  The government couldn’t give any less of a flying rat’s ass about the issues we every day people face.  Politics may be local, but every politician thinks they’re the King or the Queen of their locality; from the village legislatures to the President of the United States, the bug’s all got them and there’s no shaking it.  Yet there is one thing politicians care about: public opinion.  Politicians would rather hear about themselves from your Tweets and Facebook posts than hear your voice in the streets or news publications.  They may not care about your problems, but they care about nothing quite as much as what you have to say about them on the Internet, anonymity or no anonymity.
So you know what it comes down to amigos?  Piss them off.  Piss them off like tomorrow’s dead and there’s no bringing it back.  Occupy Wall Street scared them, sure, but it didn’t piss them off.  “That was just another hippie protest that the cops can take care of” declared the pompous Representative to the other pompous Representatives.  But it still made them nervous which is a start.  The only way to piss off these bastards is to educate yourself for your own sake.  Take it all in, dig every scene and get that knowledge and experience.  Like that campy 80’s Captain Planet slogan said (or whosever it was) “KNOWLEDGE IS POWER!”  And if you don’t wanna read, gain knowledge, form opinions on your own, and educate yourself, then get the hell out of the way of those of us who do.  Gingrich’s main talking point besides his make out session with Ronald Reagan’s ghost was a strong emphasis on American Exceptionalism.  After the performance I was discussing the idea with my pal Santos who is from Brazil.  She said Americans have to get over the fact that they’re not living in the greatest country in the world anymore.  That’s true, we’re not, and we need to suck it up and understand that we wanted other countries to educate and better themselves like we did.  But I got mad, WOAH NELLY did I get mad!  I couldn’t believe I had some foreigner telling me my country wasn’t great when I wouldn’t tell them the same about their country out of respect.  But we’re not the greatest anymore.  Our healthcare system is degrading to discuss in public regardless of what vermin like Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck say; our education system can’t keep up because we’re too lenient on the dumb and don’t reward the best and the brightest; our economy’s been sleeping in the River Styx since the ‘70’s and we’ve been navigating ourselves towards disaster since then. 
But the biggest problem we have, the Big Queen Mama of all problems, is our culture.  Our culture of yes, yes, YEAH BABY!  We want it here, we want it fast, and we want it now.  Louis CK once joked about how people get mad when their phones can’t get on the Internet quick, when we should wait because they’re going to space.  By George I think he’s got it!  None of the Republican nominees admit that the roads we’re gonna have to travel are gonna be a lot harder than we want them to be.  They couch it and sugarcoat it in easily recognizable phrases and clichés as to make it sound triumphant.  And Obama, he, like a good bleeding heart Centrist, may admit that it will be hard, but coddles you to make it seem like he’ll take care of you.  He may want to, buddy, but he won’t.  YOU can take care of you.  YOU hold the keys to the Congress and the Senate and the Presidency (kind of).  YOU can rule the government but you have to do one thing first before you get mad; before you get angry and lose your cool; before you shake your fist at the metaphorical “Man”/”Establishment” and educate yourself; you first gotta admit that it’s your fault.  For all the corruption, greed, vanity, ignorance, warmongering, bribery, megalomania, and sheer irresponsibility on the part of the government in regards to the citizenry (regardless of party, be it majority Democratic or majority Republican or what have you) WE did it.  We did it, and we won’t admit it just like we won’t admit that the American Century was over before the close of the last one.  This is a global world, but it doesn’t mean we can’t reinvent the American Dream.  The American Dream got tarnished with the Cold War, with its visions of quiet suburbia over top of a rumbling underground, fueled by mass apocalyptic hysteria.  We’ve gotta shake it down to its philosophical underpinnings and crack the foundations till we reach gold.  But to do it we’ve gotta admit that we’ve screwed ourselves over, cry a bit about it, wipe our eyes, man up, stick out our bottom lip and say that it ain’t over till we say it’s over.  The American Dream can’t die because the philosophies hidden underneath the shroud of consumerism and ignorance will never die (or hopefully will never die to put it safely, but screw that, I’m a risk taker; I’m a goddamn proud American).  The Republican candidates refused to admit that it was the audiences' faults and their faults too because that humble pie doesn’t taste too good when you’ve got a belly full of bullshit. 
Enter Fred Karger.  Fred Karger is the first openly gay, Jewish presidential candidate EVER.  You probably haven’t heard about Fred Karger because his campaign is smaller than Stephen Hawking’s weight room, but he’s there (just call me a political hipster, I don’t mind).  He’s running as a Republican because he loves Reagan, but is as far left with social issues as you can go.  He’s a real Maverick (stick that in your ancient Inuit peace pipe Palin, go hunt a griz with your bare hands elsewhere), and makes no bones about it.  He’s running an independent campaign because he wants to and because he feels he can do good.  He’s honest to his opinions regardless of who he has to answer to.  He’s basically Ron Paul if Ron Paul wasn’t a Nancy boy who’s terrified of losing.  The final event of the day when I saw Romney and Paul was a meeting with Karger and he won me over with real honesty and a truly free attitude.  I had tried too hard like Romney did while at the Paul thing, making a spectacle of myself because I wanted to be the name on everyone’s lips.  My own vanity and willingness to be so vain was too dangerous.  And I went overboard with that same message when I was in the diner or playing the piano, much like Ron Paul, who ended up being uncomfortable with it anyway just like me.  I finally realized that I couldn’t try to revive that feeling of acceptance that I felt that first day I was ranting on the bus and it hit me as I watched Newt Gingrich pathetically pant out his broken phrases of a once living, breathing dream.  My philosophy with politics should have filtered its way into my own life, and that’s what happened when I shook Fred Karger’s hand.  The guy probably won’t receive a sixteenth of a percent of the vote because he’s got no funds, but goddamn he’s the best guy out there by far.
Zero Hour, 9AM.  The words split the dark air as I sum up this huge thing.  To those of you who stayed with me till the end, I commend you and love you even if I don’t know you; to those of you who didn’t, well, you’re not reading this, so you can go scratch.  You missed out on some good stuff and bad stuff, but it’s your choice I won’t tell you what to do (but I'm judging you like you're 4 and you didn't eat your peas).  I guess there is no moral to the story.  I won’t say “so in conclusion, this is the American Dream…” and go into philosophical reservoirs long abandoned since the time of Blake and Kierkegaard.  F*** that s***.  You figure it out for yourself, that’s what I did and am still doing and that’s the way I like it.  I’m gonna go add to my nicotine addiction (19 and already hooked even with all the information we’ve got out there; it’s a sad, sad world out there hombres) but first I wanna strike a chord if I can be so bold.  There’s a shitstorm coming, hallelujah.  Everybody knows it; things are getting too bad to say otherwise.  But don’t listen to me if you don’t want to because I don’t know for sure and neither does anybody else.  If you want to educate yourself like I said before, go for it I’ll be with you every step of the way.  But for those of you who want to step out into that great abysmal divide between what you know and what you can't see, that’s your prerogative. I’m just some false, mad prophet of the Internet with a mouth like an old school truck driver.  But after what I saw in New Hampshire which included but was not limited to: the glorification of dead ideals, the celebration of image above matter, the utter nonsense that poured out of the mouths of possible presidents, etc. I know the situation is pretty dire and pretty dismal unless we do something about it soon.  On that note, I’m gonna slip out of here before the FBI tracks me down for sounding like a terrorist.  Like good old Bolan said, Bang a Gong Get it On.

   ~Viva amingos,
      ~D. Merrick

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