Street Shark's style.Rocking the loafers.
Amen.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Punk Rock Hootenanny
Sunday night my band the Chest Pains played a show at Chaz's Bull City Records in Durham. We played with Raleigh's Street Sharks (pictured), Richmond's Pink Razors and some other band that opened from Wisconsin.This shot pretty much sums up the night.
I fulfilled a life long dream of being in a band and having people sing along with you; we played of cover of Government Issue's "Hall OF Fame" [Joyride version] and had a good four or five people singing along during the chorus.
Being A Dad Is Cool
As much as raising kids can make you insane, it can be the most rewarding thing in your life.left: Spencer Brooks, 5 1/2, 45 lbs. likes sports, art and Thin Lizzy.
right: Cole Burdick, 2 1/2, 35lbs., likes sports, art and the Chest Pains.
Monday, January 16, 2006
ACC Junkie
The call came out of nowhere.
“I’m in,” I said without having to think twice.
“Okay, cool,” said my neighbor. “Meet me in ten minutes out front.”
“I’ll honk the horn,” he said.
Ten minutes later, right on time, the horn honked.
I slipped on my leather jacket, stuffed my wallet into my back pocket, topped off my head with a knit cap and walked out the door. “Good luck,” said my wife. “Thanks,” I said.
Once inside my neighbor’s car, I got the instructions: We were to go to the Shell gas station at the intersection of Route 54 and Interstate 40 and wait.
The wait was painstakingly long, both of us salivating at the prospect of what would soon be in our possession. My mouth was dry.
“You want anything?” he said as he got out and purchased dry goods from the mini mart inside the gas station.
“Water,” I said.
He came back and we sat and waited in silence, a silence broken occasionally by the sound of my lips slurping water off the tip of my water bottle; a nervous tick.
“This sure is taking long,” said my neighbor.
“It is,” I said back.
I’ve know this guy sitting next to me since I was 13-years-old. Yet suddenly we have nothing to say.
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” he asked breaking the blanket of silence. I handed it to him while disengaging the lock that blocks the phone from being inadvertently dialed when on your person. He dialed a number and asked for another. Then he dialed the second number.
“Hey,” he said.
I heard the garbled voice of someone on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you at?”
He hung up without a word and handed me the phone as a flash of headlights streaked across our windshield. He got out of his car. I heard the slap of a hand shakes and a “thank you” or two.
He slid back into the front seat, slamming his door in the process.
“We’re golden dude,” he said with a big sly smile on his face as he held out his hand revealing two tickets to the Carolina versus Davidson basketball game.
It’s like he just handed me the Holy Grail: in the ten years I have lived in the Triangle, this is only my second Carolina game.
I finished the last drop of water from my bottle, turned and said to him, “done.”
Then I threw my bottle on the floor board of his car.
“Done,” he said before bursting out in a maniacal cackle as he jammed his car into reverse.
“I’m in,” I said without having to think twice.
“Okay, cool,” said my neighbor. “Meet me in ten minutes out front.”
“I’ll honk the horn,” he said.
Ten minutes later, right on time, the horn honked.
I slipped on my leather jacket, stuffed my wallet into my back pocket, topped off my head with a knit cap and walked out the door. “Good luck,” said my wife. “Thanks,” I said.
Once inside my neighbor’s car, I got the instructions: We were to go to the Shell gas station at the intersection of Route 54 and Interstate 40 and wait.
The wait was painstakingly long, both of us salivating at the prospect of what would soon be in our possession. My mouth was dry.
“You want anything?” he said as he got out and purchased dry goods from the mini mart inside the gas station.
“Water,” I said.
He came back and we sat and waited in silence, a silence broken occasionally by the sound of my lips slurping water off the tip of my water bottle; a nervous tick.
“This sure is taking long,” said my neighbor.
“It is,” I said back.
I’ve know this guy sitting next to me since I was 13-years-old. Yet suddenly we have nothing to say.
“Can I borrow your cell phone?” he asked breaking the blanket of silence. I handed it to him while disengaging the lock that blocks the phone from being inadvertently dialed when on your person. He dialed a number and asked for another. Then he dialed the second number.
“Hey,” he said.
I heard the garbled voice of someone on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you at?”
He hung up without a word and handed me the phone as a flash of headlights streaked across our windshield. He got out of his car. I heard the slap of a hand shakes and a “thank you” or two.
He slid back into the front seat, slamming his door in the process.
“We’re golden dude,” he said with a big sly smile on his face as he held out his hand revealing two tickets to the Carolina versus Davidson basketball game.
It’s like he just handed me the Holy Grail: in the ten years I have lived in the Triangle, this is only my second Carolina game.
I finished the last drop of water from my bottle, turned and said to him, “done.”
Then I threw my bottle on the floor board of his car.
“Done,” he said before bursting out in a maniacal cackle as he jammed his car into reverse.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Monday, January 02, 2006
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Damaged II
What happens when your older brother rolls into town whom you haven't seen in a year and hasn't been to your digs in five years?Why you throw down the gauntlet and get wasted.
Here's to more good times in 2006.
Damaged
What happens when the best man at your wedding - who you haven't talked to in a good year because he's getting divorced - rolls into town for a surprise visit because his father lives in North Carolina... and he comes with his soon-to-be ex wife?Why you throw down the gauntlet and get wasted.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
The Room of Spencer
And to think, I just had him clean it the other day.Notice "makeshift" drummer set in the left corner or the Ron Liberti signed rock poster above the bed.
What Is This?
Spencer art.Skateboard tricks. Notice the movement of the arms or the guy second from right with the pink deck who is doing the ollie. Or maybe it's the first guy? Or maybe it's a sequence!
Assessment
After my brother-in-law came over and assessed the damage, we took a trip to Home Depot for some roofing sealant slash caulk. Sealed the area around the exhaust piping and left the wet insulation to dry. Hope plywood dries out otherwise it'll need to be replaced. At least I didn't fall through the roof when I stood on it.
One More Time... Closer
I see many trips to Home Depot in my future...and a headache the size of Texas.
Shit
This is what greeted me this morning in the bathroom my sons use. It used to be a little brown spot. Then we got three solid days of rain.Happy, happy, joy, joy.
Guess I'll call the landlord.
Oh wait, I am the landlord, I own this place.
Shit. shit, double shit.
I think I'll take aliens up my nose over this type of home improvement.
And it's 38 degrees out.
The Aliens Are Coming
Or maybe they already came...
Had another mind blowing, yet harrowing, lucid dream last night.
This time I go to some weird compound lured by the guise of it being some family entertainment place a la Chuck E. Cheeses-meets-Seasame Street or something. Only once you get in there the kids are seperated from the adults. I have to go through these myriad of doors but they play it off funhouse funny like the beginning of Get Smart. At the last door I have to do some sort of light-in-the-eyeball ID check.
A mechanical woman's voice calls out your specs: "Greg Barbera, male, [there's some sort of escort waiting for me to enter and he says in unison w/ the voice], age 37."
I turn to him and say, "I've been here before. That's how you know."
He gives me a sheepish grin. I imagine they are going to up the dose on my amnesia meds this time. I now recall why my sinuses always hurt so bad, it's because the method they use to do whatever procedures they want to do involves entering via your nasal cavity. I shudder thinking about the pain of it all.
My recollection is patchy from here.
I know I took some sort of ferry to get to the place. But it was through the artic circle or some shit because all I remember is passing iceburgs and being frigidly cold and wondering where am I going because clearly there is no life here only to be greeted by some Mission District on ice neighborhood/city. Covered in 24hr darkness. Streetlight/car lights bouncing off the slushy, wet mess that seemed to be streets.
Had another mind blowing, yet harrowing, lucid dream last night.
This time I go to some weird compound lured by the guise of it being some family entertainment place a la Chuck E. Cheeses-meets-Seasame Street or something. Only once you get in there the kids are seperated from the adults. I have to go through these myriad of doors but they play it off funhouse funny like the beginning of Get Smart. At the last door I have to do some sort of light-in-the-eyeball ID check.
A mechanical woman's voice calls out your specs: "Greg Barbera, male, [there's some sort of escort waiting for me to enter and he says in unison w/ the voice], age 37."
I turn to him and say, "I've been here before. That's how you know."
He gives me a sheepish grin. I imagine they are going to up the dose on my amnesia meds this time. I now recall why my sinuses always hurt so bad, it's because the method they use to do whatever procedures they want to do involves entering via your nasal cavity. I shudder thinking about the pain of it all.
My recollection is patchy from here.
I know I took some sort of ferry to get to the place. But it was through the artic circle or some shit because all I remember is passing iceburgs and being frigidly cold and wondering where am I going because clearly there is no life here only to be greeted by some Mission District on ice neighborhood/city. Covered in 24hr darkness. Streetlight/car lights bouncing off the slushy, wet mess that seemed to be streets.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Nightmares
Had incredible nightmares last night.
- One involved a elephant running lose in a suburban neighbor and headed right for the backyard cookout I was at. People screaming. Nowhere to turn. "Fate or luck is going to get me out of thsi one," I thought. Dream fades
- Second involves alien abduction. I am sleeping in my son Cole's bed. I sense something. Get up and look out the window. There's bright lights but it's not the street lamp. Too bright. I seek solace in the room. Only now I'm lying w/ Cole and my wife. We are looking at the stars out of a sky light. And then the bright lights come. A ship, which looks like an oil drilling rig laid on its side, hovers over the sky light. "Shit," I mumble. "It's here." And then scramble to get Cole and wife out of the room. I'm behind Cole and standing in the doorway looking back on my wife on the bed. "Get up!" I yell and reach for her hand. And then the window crashes and this mechanical arm comes reaching towards me. "It wants me," I say to the room not sure to whom. "What do you want?" I scream. "Answer these questions," says a voice from nowhere. Dream fades.
- Third one. Three of my best friends and a childhood neighbor break into my house. Armed robbery. They are surprised I am home and I am surprised they are trying to rob me. They are dressed in black like cat burglers yet their faces aren't covered. This is bad they say. They tie me up, slap duck tape across my face and inject me with a needle. To put me to sleep or to kill me I do not know. Dream fades.
Seems like a good time for some Black Flag:
NERVOUS BREAKDOWN
I'm about
To have a nervous breakdown
My head really hurts
If I don't find a way out of here
I'm gonna go berserk 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
It's going...berserk
I hear the same old talk talk talk
The same old lines
Don't do me that today, yeah
If you know what's good for you you'll get out of my way 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
Going...berserk
I won't apologize
For acting outta line
You see the way I am
You leave any time you can 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
Going...berserk
Crazy! Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
I don't care what you fuckin' do
I don't care what you fuckin' say
I'm so sick of everything
I just want to...die!
- One involved a elephant running lose in a suburban neighbor and headed right for the backyard cookout I was at. People screaming. Nowhere to turn. "Fate or luck is going to get me out of thsi one," I thought. Dream fades
- Second involves alien abduction. I am sleeping in my son Cole's bed. I sense something. Get up and look out the window. There's bright lights but it's not the street lamp. Too bright. I seek solace in the room. Only now I'm lying w/ Cole and my wife. We are looking at the stars out of a sky light. And then the bright lights come. A ship, which looks like an oil drilling rig laid on its side, hovers over the sky light. "Shit," I mumble. "It's here." And then scramble to get Cole and wife out of the room. I'm behind Cole and standing in the doorway looking back on my wife on the bed. "Get up!" I yell and reach for her hand. And then the window crashes and this mechanical arm comes reaching towards me. "It wants me," I say to the room not sure to whom. "What do you want?" I scream. "Answer these questions," says a voice from nowhere. Dream fades.
- Third one. Three of my best friends and a childhood neighbor break into my house. Armed robbery. They are surprised I am home and I am surprised they are trying to rob me. They are dressed in black like cat burglers yet their faces aren't covered. This is bad they say. They tie me up, slap duck tape across my face and inject me with a needle. To put me to sleep or to kill me I do not know. Dream fades.
Seems like a good time for some Black Flag:
NERVOUS BREAKDOWN
I'm about
To have a nervous breakdown
My head really hurts
If I don't find a way out of here
I'm gonna go berserk 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
It's going...berserk
I hear the same old talk talk talk
The same old lines
Don't do me that today, yeah
If you know what's good for you you'll get out of my way 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
Going...berserk
I won't apologize
For acting outta line
You see the way I am
You leave any time you can 'cuz
I'm crazy and I'm hurt
Head on my shoulders
Going...berserk
Crazy! Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!
I don't care what you fuckin' do
I don't care what you fuckin' say
I'm so sick of everything
I just want to...die!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
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