the force of honesty

[mudshark]

2.14.09

I got a ring today. With special features. The force of honesty. I cant remember what he called the stone thing it was made of. But this was the ability it had. And God knows I need it.

I m not a liar. That’s not what I’m saying. But… you know. Sometimes it easy on you. Its easier. And im that kind. I like shit to be easy.
But if you don’t tell the truth… maybe people don’t really see you, me, the way I am. Maybe its really easier to don’t carry around the weight of concealment. If that is even a word.

What Im thinking now is: this might be a long one. But honesty takes a long time. And this is my Saturday and my Sunday the way it was. I hope its not to disturbing. But this is the only place I can tell about it.

Have you ever had a little kid? I do.
Took him lugding. Downhill on a sled. We sat on the top of the hill. I was exhausted. Going up that step snowy height so many times. For gods sake, his 12! But he still want me to go with him. On the sled. So I said to the fella, and I don’t know if he got it, probably not, but in time he might, “when we get down this slop, big guy, the world will change.” he thought it was a competition, first man down. But for me itmeant that hes childhood was over. We rolled around in the snow down here. Crashing.
Breathing out. Laying there for a while, not talking.

I caught the train to Oslo after my parents left, taking the kid for a sleep over. About 4. Was a concert we where having in there. And I can eel now that I really don’t know how to end this story. So much happened. What should I take notice of and bring forward? I liked today. I met up with a Scottish friend of mind on a Norwegian oslo -vacation. I half ran to the pub to make it on time today. Rangers VS Celtic on some channel. Hes a rangers fan. And I guess I am to. So we watched it, small talked, screamed at the screen, had some beers. Then hw gives me this book. With “postcards from John and Paul to Ringo”. you know. And then its this ring he shows je, wants me to have. And now I cant tell any lies. I cant! Its all me now. Game ended 0-0.
When I got home I felt kind of miserable sitting there all alone. The band had screwed up. The crowd was a fucking graveyard. And it was the birthday party of the keybord player. With just friends. Lars was there on the bass. Brought his women to, sober for 3 weeks. Both of em. There where tension. But it looked fine. Our bass player is a wife beater.

All that said, she knows witch buttons to push. Im not taking a stand here.
Shows ending lars is downing a coupla beers. Falls a sleep. Woman kicks him in the balls and starts cussin’ at him. He kicks here in the face and her nose kinda splitts. Its some blood. Another burs day friend goes at him and there is some shares flying. Commontion. I get him out. On the train. Back home. We jam some songs. While my guitar gently weeps, Rock’n roll by zepplin, Perfect day, whiter shade of pale, all with out the bass of course. It goes on thill 7 in the morning. Yes! This morning. man… so I wake up in that place on the floor, chupped down some lens soup chillie spiced and headed for the pub to meet him. The Scottish guy I was telling you about. No! I didn’t get laid this weekend either. So I carry my Gibson across the Fairytale bridge. Sack on ma back with the jeans and the cables, still wearing my band outfit. Its kind of gay. White pants and shit. But all, in a tasty 70s stile, mind you. Its about 1.30 in the middle of the day.

When I got down to the pub in my home town just now, after all this Oslo-fuzz, I met a girl there. She was real nice. Sat next to me and shit. Smelled my hair. Said it had a touch of champagne to it. And then I remembered. I had opened the bottle and splashed the shit around, even in my face as I looked down on the cork for some reason, as I opened it. Damn well blinded me. I couldenet see shit! Champagne flying all over the place! So of course it musta smelled some champagne. She asked me my name and told me hers. ( always wanted to write that). Location, age.
She was 65.
We had a good time, though.
She held my hand. It was cold. Still is. And then she smelled my hair again. It felt kinda nice. But I never expected the week to end like this.
I honestly didn’t.
Im a good damn guitar player. It all went wrong. The thought of this weekend really got me going form Monday to friday. Fork lift riding on the icy ground. Dodging ice from the roof corners going to the factory t 6.40 in the morning. Hell, im still a fast cat. Turning 40, and I can still fake being cool. They don’t see my acing back, hair coming of in the wind, my chin falling in the morning mirror. I am who I am. And my stomach muscles cant take it any more.
The forces o honesty. Coming through.

So, was this disturbing? I guess it wasn’t. so did I lie about that, some of you lady friends may ask yourself. Well, I don’t think so sugar pies.
I think I
Might go to bed.


Im just writing cause im bored now. Waiting for the neighbour to come out for her last fag. I like to have a fag my self on the stairs, though I smoke inside the house on a frequently basis.
and i have a kid.
there she is now!
I have to see about a girl!
later, people.

[mtmynd]

thanks for the update, muddy. your life is... well, different from what i'd guess your life would be like. i don't know what kinda life you'd live but it's always cold as shit in Norge and the white is enough to fucking blind a person... shivering and shaking like a wet dog in those cold climates you live in, but you have a kid. i forgot about that. he's 12 yrs old now. time sure flies. he was much, much younger last i heard from you. glad to see your doing a damn good 'dad' thing. i'll bet he digs you, lasse. in the end, that's something we all come back to - our parents or our children. in the end not much else is really important to us... in the end. but hell, man, this ain't the fucking end, is it? your 40 years is a damn drop in the bucket of life. your probably good for another 30-40 years is you live it with care. most of us don't do that. i didn't for over 60 years until i discovered shit health staring at me straight in my eyes... hard to ignore.

get laid, fucker. that's all you friggin' need, muddy, right now. it's the only thing missing in your life that you hunger for. get laid, fucker. everything is about all it ever will be... after you get laid.

[mudshark]

its good times, man. but they come even better. life is nuthn to complain over! not for us. life is generally good, if you dont take it to serious. at least we got a story out of it huh?
reality. the only place where you can get a decent beef.

[mtmynd]

"reality. the only place where you can get a decent beef."

great line. my state of texas should buy that line from you to promote their beef sales.

[p.s. i don't eat beef. the state wished i would. i won't. ]

[mudshark]

the drummer and his girlfriend is also on that bus. but ive seen'm mumble chicken wings in the dusk.

i think the line is up for grabs. probably something woddy allen said i think. he seems to have all the smart lines.

[panta rhei]

making stories out of our lives while our guitars gently weep - weaving lives from our stories as we fall into snow or champagne, face first, into the face and force of honesty, laying there for a while, saying nothing....

love your writing, lasse!

[mudshark]

you cant ask for more than that.
thanks panta! keep an eye on me.

[panta rhei]

ha, yeah! along with an ear...