Bloom
Another rough recording :0
Archive for November, 2009
Work hurts.
Today, I smashed my finger within 5 minutes of arriving to work via carelessly spanking the concrete tub with a shovel. And, remember our friend who fell off the scaffold? Well, he showed up to work today, drunk, and fell off again. So he got fired.
I write about work a lot. You know, work can become your life. I’ve tried to avoid work becoming my life by doing something non-work-related every night. Something productive. Something that makes one put their balls on the line.
Or I’m just curling up next to the fire in my L.L. Bean sweater, sipping tea with my acoustic guitar in hand.
Christmas cards are scary
That’s Piper. He’s Josh and Erin’s dog. They were doing a photoshoot for Christmas cards. Word is, he pee’d all over the place till he was completely empty, and thenceforth was model-ready for the pictures.
Movies about movies
Sometimes my younger brother shows up at random times and demands that I entertain him, so we decided to go out and watch Inglourious Basterds. It was my second time to see it. My emotions were fully engaged in a whole new way… I guess as much as they can be, when you see a compelling movie at the discount theater, with its bad speakers and dim screen and everything.
In other news, Bread and Butter didn’t make it into the Santa Fe Film Fest. It’s still up for Slamdance, but I think it’s about time to work on another short.
Bank of Big Brother
Big Brother (and Little Brother) is watching you.
Today I passed time with my brother Josh by driving around to places where we either had to pay for bills, deposit checks, or buy stuff. I guess they call that running errands.
When we went to the bank, there were about 12 cameras aimed at us. Luckily I was able to deposit my check and leave before they began to herd people to be gassed in the back room.
After that, we went to the airport where Josh works, and where I used to take flight lessons with Jake.
I got back to the house as the sun was going down (around 3:30 p.m. or something), and personally vowed that I would make use of my day off and write a song on acoustic. I soon realized that I am missing vital callouses and am rediscovering coordination for executing old ideas.
Here’s a rough documentation of Song and Words.
*Caution: Sappy Singer/Songwriter Alert.
And there’s older stuff I posted years ago on myspace.
Also, beer is really good after a week of brick-throwing.
Remember, Safety Second.
We are working a few locations at once, because that’s just how the brick-laying business goes I guess.
One particular location seems to be cursed, however, as Friday presented a situation that proved to be semi-catastrophic, yet slightly comedic perhaps, in certain contexts…
The word is, that one of the construction dudes at the job site bent over near a propane heater, causing his pants to catch fire. He was loaded into the ambulance with his pants completely burned off, screaming in pain, skin hanging from his rear-end. While I thought it sounded tragic and disturbing, a couple of our guys seemed pretty entertained by the story.
Anyway, I was selected to work at the same cursed location today. We were working among a 6-foot scaffold set-up to complete a 12-foot wall. I naturally feel like I’m going to fall off of anything above the height of 4-feet, but our brick-layers seem to be completely invincible to heights-related fears.
So today, one of our dudes was finishing the top row of bricks, and needed a little boost, via cinder block, as you can see in the following cellphone photo:
I heard a loud thud (him falling off the brick onto the scaffold), and looked up in time to see him gracefully roll off the planks, and float down to the ground in a slow-motion spin, landing on his side with a calm surrendering splendor.
Long silence. Then all I could say was:
“Dude. Are you okay?”
As if woken from a nap, he looks around to process why the bricks are up there, and why he’s way down here.
We were all a little weirded out for a second, thinking of worst-case scenarios and all that. But when he got on the phone to tell one of his buddies what had happened, I had to try really hard not to laugh, for context reasons.
“Jimmy, so you decided to show uhhhhp…”
Today I was 15 minutes late to work. Traffic was backed up on the street that I had mentally took note as the “faster way to get to work”. Of course, since this is Albuquerque and everything, it was due to a fender bender.
I spent a good 10-minutes groaning and cursing the low intelligence of slow drivers. Then I saw the scene and I drove past, glaring, noticing that the accident was involving some emo kid with a ridiculous haircut that he probably saved since Halloween.
I’m pretty sure that’s him on the right, but he didn’t have boobs in real life.
So today was the first day that my boss expressed disapproval for me being late, but I’m not sure if he heard me excuse myself. I immediately said, “It was cuz of car accident,” as he was driving the loud forklift away from me.
However, by the end of the day, my boss had enjoyed that I shoveled rock-hard dirt into a ditch like an unstoppable machine, and said, “You worked your ass off today,” and patted my shoulder. I relishly exclaimed, “Shitch yeah, boss!” as we jumped into an atmosphere-slicing high-five and busted out the company flask.
One of the previous sentences is untrue, but I felt it necessary to add for dramatic flavor.
