Done.

I just recently received some great news: I will soon be able to quit bartending FOREVER. I've been hired as a sales representative at Atlanta Foods, a wholesale company that specializes in cheeses. I'll be responsible for several grocery stores here in the Birmingham area, and will be working closely with my soon to be father-in-law, Chris.

I couldn't be happier. The last year and a half has been a quest to find something real to do with my life, something I can eventually use to support a family. This is it. I couldn't be more excited.

I realize I need to thank everyone in the bar industry who has supported me, taught me, and given me the opportunities to keep myself busy for the last 9 years. SO:

Thank you Harold. Thank you Dave. Thank you Derek. Thank you Dusty, Rob, and Dave. Thank you Bill.

Most of all, thank you, Phil Eishen, wherever the hell you are. You taught me how to count to three and four and a half. You taught me which goes in what, and how much of it. You taught me stance and composure and how to use my arrogance to my advantage. You taught me that a collar goes a long way. You taught me that flaming 151 does not go on your pants (or in my eye, for that matter). You taught me at least two interesting uses for the office table, both of which I'll never ever do again. You taught me that if your hands aren't bleeding then you aren't bartending. You taught me how to throw a coaster loaded with plastic toothpicks well enough to pop a balloon. You taught me how to be confident and how someone weighing less than both people involved in a fight can break it up with maximum pain and minimal damage.

I'm going to miss this life a little bit.

Cretin Reunion '07

So our old band got together for one more hoorah this Thanksgiving. Everyone had a great time (I think) and we were all surprised how tight everything was. Anyway, here's some video.

Shake:


Walk Away:


That's all i'll post for now. You can check out the rest by clicking here .

Thanksgiving & Iron Bowl pictures.

Who knew my nephews would show up in more pictures on this blog? I'm surprised. Are you?

Aiden and I being goofy:


Isaac and I being photographed:


Deer in headlights:


Laura, her sister Missy, and me, decked out for the ball game:


Isaac, Dad (kinda), Kate (almost) and me, all orange and blue:


And finally, how do Alabama fans feel about the '07 Iron Bowl?

like that.

I BROKE MY HEAD

So here's how it goes:

The first near concussion came when Kate and I were disassembling a bed frame. Long story short, a very heavy piece of wood that we thought would stand on its own did not. It did, however, stand with the help of my head. I had a good sized goose egg for a few days, saw stars, nearly got knocked out, and all that jazz.



A few weeks later i guess i decided that i didn't want my past self to show up my present self. I could describe the scenario for you, but i'll just say i hit myself on a very sharp piece of wood. On the head. It bled EVERYWHERE. I screamed expletives. At work. Oh yeah. When the bleeding finally stopped I went woozily back to work and finished my day with a huge blood clot in my hair. Yummy. Got it cleaned up, and guess what? As Laura says, i'm branded.



yeah. L for Laura. I would rather have taken a ring. Over a week later and it's still there, albeit somewhat smaller. Looks like it's going to scar, and i definitely have a depression in my skull. Yea!!!

more nephew video

Halloween

We had a ridiculously good time this halloween. This is the first time i've been off work for it for roughly ten years. Yeah. Damn right we got down and boogied. Here's all of us at the start.

Brian, Bucho, Parsons, and Jess. 2 DC's, 2 Marvels. Awesome.



Laura and I. Ready for adventure. At least, any adventure that can be taken on with three fake guns and a crappy bullwhip i don't know how to use:



Ran into Lewis, who had a truly awesome Doc Holliday costume (he even had a little silver cup he was drinking from).



The Green Lantern. Badass.



Lantern and Lara:



Stop or she'll shoot. I mean it man, she's got you covered.



MIGHTY THOR. Or Fabio. Or Thor.



So that's the first stop. Every year in Five Points they do a poker crawl, where you go to five different bars and get a playing card at each one. Then whoever has the best hand at each location when it's over wins $100. We lost to two laffy-taffy sorority girls that weren't even wearing costumes. This made Thor MAD. So mad that when we got to Zydeco (our final stop) he smashed The Green Lantern with his hammer Mjolnir.



Shortly after we were all friends again.



While at Zydeco, we met a few more friends.



Meow! I'm a kitty cat! And I dance dance dance....



This picture was supposed to be a close-up, but the wind was too intense. Ease up, Storm.




I've wanted to be Indiana Jones my whole life. I don't just mean for Halloween. Putting on the costume made me giddy (like a schoolboy) so you can imagine my surprise and delight when we ran into this guy. What are the odds? Apparently 100%, but i wouldn't have believed that.



He called me Dr. Jones. Anyway, here's some kitties:



So after the poker crawl we went to Phil's house for a tiny little party. That's when things got crazy.

Shaw, the inflatable buckaroo:



Laura and a man witch (get it?)



Phil as Wolverine. He had a mask to wear, but it was LAME. He had a wig that I spent an hour cutting and styling. It was too hot for his head, apparently. Christy was just AWESOMELY beautiful as Storm, and tied with Brian for best homemade costume.



Mike built his costume around a voice. If you know him, you'll get it. Most of you won't.



Shizz was a starving artist. It wasn't much of a stretch. All she had to do was starve herself. Her sign read something like, "5th year BFA. Will paint for food or booze."



Laura and Shizz, being beautiful:



"my beer, dude...."



Phil says no smoking inside, or you get the paddle.



Trying To Look Natural, with Jay and Adam:



Notice Shizz looks bored and unhappy



Until now:



BATGIRL!



EAT IT! EAT IT NOW!!



We'll wrap up the picture show with my favorite pic of the bunch, one I like to call GOD OF THUNDER:



Hope everyone had a great Halloween. I'll be posting video as soon as it's edited.

MOVIE MAGIC

I want to take a moment to highlight one of the GREATEST MOMENTS EVER FILMED:

Lt. Ellen Ripley (Yeah, yeah, played by Sigourney Weaver) spouts a huge gout of flame over the eggs being laid by the mother Alien (played by none other than Stan Winston's greatest creation, the Mother Alien). For the moment, it seems to be a stalemate.

Shortly thereafter, one of the aforementioned alien eggs folds open, breaking the stalemate, and giving way to possibly the greatest moment of acting to be captured on film in the last twenty years:

Ripley (yeah, yeah, Sigourney Weaver) shoots the Mama ET this big fat HELL NO OH YOU DIDN'T YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THAT I'VE GOT A FLAMETHROWER AND YOU DID WHAT? look that in my opinion is one of the most convincing and eloquent moments ever to be filmed. Happy Halloween.

Winter takes two

in the petals of the rose
i've seen how it goes
i've seen an idea never tasted
go from sweet to sour
and seasons tolling every hour
have left your life to end unflowered
and here's to those predicting seasons:
Winter gives no fucking reasons--
:-----:
She gives then takes and takes away
a quarter of four hundred days
She gives us time to ruminate,
to busy, schedule, plan, and date
to fill in slots we left unfilled
to do undone and shutter sill
to pack unpacked and unpacked done
to plant the seed becoming Sun
and what she takes while we don't look?
The only measured breath we took.

I'm a pro.

My week:

Sold a painting for $300. Quit Fox and Hell and started training at a different restaurant. Located illustration board for The Four Horsemen comic i've been dying to write. Finally got a tan. Learned how to lose at 7 ball. Ate, drank, and was merry. Life is good.

My Nephews+Video Camera=Check it out.

Thought I'd share some (semi) recent videos of my nephews with all 4 of you guys. Here's the first, a longish clip of Isaac on his first day of freedom from the womb:


Here's Isaac at home, enjoying a pacifier.


And here's me and one of my favorite people on earth (he's tied for first), Aiden, takin' a dip in the ol' swimmin' hole.



More later.

Mark Z. Danielewski

I don't care who you are, or what you do. I don't care if we still hang out from time to time or if I haven't seen you in a year. Buy Danielewski's novels. Buy them and love them and read them and love them more and then read them again and then call me and tell me what the hell is going on.

I finally figured out his first novel, House of Leaves. Should you care for an explanation, too bad. This puzzle was finally pieced together after two straight reads and one follow-up "scan."

The newer one, Only Revolutions, turns the conventional novel format on its head. Literally. While it's doing that, it employs a linguistic style i've only ever encountered once before, in Priscilla Marron's short short story My Dear How Dead You Look and Yet You Sweetly Sing, which has always perplexed and slightly terrified me.

Mark D. is one of those authors (like Chuck Palahniuk, whom I adore) that you just shouldn't read while trying to write a story of your own. The power of the work is such that you'll inevitably be drawn to imitate the inimitable and it will show. Guess that means I won't be writing for the next two weeks or so.

Yeah, that's right. Two weeks. For those of you that know how I read, that alone should be testament to the complexity of Only Revolutions.

By the way, it's not Only Revolutions. It's also a spiral.

chapter 12.

So in a drunken, tired haze, I wrote the next installments of my little story about the finger-biting guy, and posted them here. After a sober (and sobering) review of these pages i've decided to delete the posts. They're just not for the faint of heart, or those with a weak stomach. If any of you out there would like to read them, leave me a comment or email me and i'll happily send them to you.

a survey...

I was asked to describe my ideal partner. Thinking of Laura, I wrote:

"beautiful. headstrong. my match. equal. challenging. beautiful. sweet. persistent. sloppy. worthy. adversary. love. life. breath. dream. waking. back rub. relaxation. tension. relief. beautiful."

I like that. I especially like that I sandwiched "back rub" in there. Yeah, right.

Jobs.

Heard back from US Foods today. They were having problems with my references, since I had listed my current department head as a personal reference. I got that straightened out yesterday, and they've already acted on it. Hooray!! Drug test results got back and are clean (why are you surprised? I've been saying i'm clean for a long time.) so that's taken care of too. All that's left is a D.O.T. physical to prove I can lift 50 pounds and stand for an hour and I'll be on my way. Thank GOD.

The situation at Fox and Hound has worsened significantly. Last Sunday I had a total of 5 drinks over the course of 6 hours. This is in violation of our 4 drink limit for employees, which even the general manager has said he doesn't enforce. I've never seen anyone enforce this, and it isn't really an issue if you don't get wasted, embarrass your co-workers and make an ass of yourself. Enter Tori Hale, hostess manager, the low one on the totem pole, desperate to make a stand in our temporary power vacuum. So what happens? I'm written up (for the first and LAST time), suspended for one night and told I can't drink at Fox and Hound for a month. Oh, damn.

The whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth. The punishment was a slap on the wrist, so big deal, but what irks me is that these rules only apply when someone is pissy. They're here one day and gone the next, and the hypocrisy is driving me MAD!
So i've turned rat. I told my managers that I have no problem with the punishment, but these things have to be fair, and that I would be doing my part to insure that. So I'm now a tattle tale, and I couldn't be happier about it. Nobody's breaking a single rule during my shifts without paying for it, no-sir.

Hmm. Bastards. That bridge is gonna burn.

Graceland....

For some reason I woke up today with perhaps the strangest waking craving ever. I usually act on these things pretty quickly, and this was no exception, and I must say I recommend this one for everyone if you have the means. First thing in the morning (or afternoon, if you're one of us) before caffeine, before even talking to anyone, before you rub your eyes-get on ITunes, or whatever service you use if you have to, and download this song if you don't have it. If you do already have it, then dig out the CD, pop it in, and get ready to bob your head and smile a lot.

"You Can Call Me Al," by Paul Simon.

For that matter, I just realized the experience could have been even better. I could've Youtubed it and watched the video. Oh well.

summer fun.

I'm in love with the Transformers movie. It's the best piece of summer shit you'll ever see, and in that vein, i give you this:



Yeah, yeah. I know. This is quickly becoming a "youtube through the eyes of this guy we don't like that much but can't help visiting his blog" kind of thing. I'll write something important soon, i promise.

Updates

As I haven't talked to most of you in quite some time, i thought i'd let you know the direction my life is currently taking (professionally, this time).

Foremost, our "investor," Colin Grayson, backed out on us without so much as an explanation. I can't describe the frustration of being told this thing was moving forward, we were to start collecting paychecks, quit our jobs....only to be followed by two and a half MISERABLE weeks of trying to track this bastard down. Just to give you all an insight into Colin's character, my last communication with him about this was at the end of this two week period, he said he had the checks in hand, was going to shower, and would call me back in twenty minutes. He never did. Nor did he answer the phone when i called him numerous times. ARRGH. But enough of that. The good news is that Dave is pursuing another option at this point, and if it works out, we'll be secured in a VERY prime piece of Birmingham real estate.

Should that stuff not work out, you'll all be glad to know that i'm pursuing other, more reasonable options. I had a follow-up interview today with U.S. Foods for a training position which pays somewhat modestly but leads to a career. The training is for a territory manager position, a commissioned sales job, and just the sort of thing I would excel at. I hope. My best man Brian has been with this company four years and enjoys a pretty decent quality of life, so this would be a great opportunity.

I'm also awaiting a follow up interview at Santa Fe Cattle Company, a relatively new regional restaurant chain, where I interviewed for a management position. The pay is better off the bat, but the stability is less than at U.S. Pros and cons are a bitch, i'll tell you that. It would almost make it easier if I just plain don't get offered one of the positions (but I interview so well!!).

There are other opportunities on the table as well, both of them sales positions, and both of them on the near horizon. More on those as I pursue them.

All this growing up has left me weary.

Much love to those, etc..

about to have had it.

For you new readers, i present to you the first some-odd chapters of my fledgling novel. I just hope i haven't deleted the illustrations from photobucket yet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
01


So this is how I'm supposed to touch you. With pen and paper. Ink. Typing ribbon. Little slivers of graphite so slender you can shove them under your fingernails for a sharp pain. Chewed pencils. Forty pound proof. Wide and college ruled. Bar napkins and the backs of business cards. Restroom walls. Printers that shudder and bump as they spit out my life story. Unread. And just when it was starting to get interesting.

02

Yesterday or a week ago, I shop. Rows of canned goods and boxed foods stretch to the limit of vision. I fill my cart without looking, indiscriminately toss cans in. It isn't so much buying food as painting. The colors on the labels lay in sharp relief to the dullness of the metal. Orange. Green. Silver. I guess I'll be having peas and carrots tonight.

I round a corner. A gleaming tower of imperishable meat product scrapes the ceiling, the sky. I get a running start and fling headfirst through the display. My head hits the ground first. I hear a crunch. My nose, or a tooth. Or both. My entire head is a filing cabinet slammed shut. Then I'm pelted with falling cans of Spam. They break like water across my back, my legs, my ass, some from eight feet, others from a mile up. From the sky. This is a baptism. I'm a new man. Yeah, right. It's a diversion. A way to pass time, and as the store manager runs over screaming at me the whole time he saw what I did, and what the hell is wrong with me, I roll myself over, pull my disability card. I hand it to him and give him a shitty, gap toothed, bloody grin. From now on I'll have to shop at Wal-Mart.


03

When you've retired at twenty eight the world is your oyster. Lying dormant for so many years, it has slowly calcified that accidental grain of sand that has become your life. Your own personal and perfectly boring pearl, watch it shine. So I try to keep myself busy. Keep my mind from eating itself more than it already has. I steal. I crash golf carts into trees. I cut myself or poke with needles or buy more refills for a mechanical pencil I don't have. Anything to stay occupied.


04

Another thing I did, I put on my old uniform, the one with the epaulets and funny lopsided hat. I always hated that fucking hat, it never fit me and always made my face look like it was on crooked. I put it on and rubbed the entire thing with peanut butter, hat, jacket, pants and all. I went to the garage and opened a forty pound bag of bird seed and doused myself liberally. I walked six blocks to the park, laid down, and waited.

It didn't take long. Within seconds the first curious pigeons were pecking at my legs, my chest, my head. It didn't hurt, it sort of tickled. Word spread fast and soon I was covered with birds. I swear I even saw a squirrel. While the birds found no food on my face, they still used it as a perch. I was a living tapestry of feathers. Yeah, right. I was an asshole covered with flying rats, and as soon as I was sure a crowd of people had gathered, I shot up off the ground, dozens of pigeons bursting into flight, a cloud of flapping chaos in front of me, I ran yelling like a madman at the first little girl I saw. She shrieked in terror, and no kidding, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. Mission accomplished. Thank you sir.

I ran the rest of the way home, a few errant pigeons still pecking at my shoulder and back as I went. Two days later I had to see the doctor as one of the scratches on my face had become infected. I told him what happened but he didn't really hear it, just nodded and uh-hummed and asked me if my head or back still bothered me. They didn't, hadn't in months, but I nodded and uh-hummed and yessed myself into more hydrocodone.

05

Way back when....

I saw you lying on the bed. Wasting time. Remote in your hand. I sat on the edge of the bed. You didn't move. I said, "babe?" and put my hand on your cold leg. You didn't move. I pulled the sheets back, I said, "babe?" and shook. You didn't move. Your eyes were open. But your mind was shut. I dragged into the living room, poured myself another drink, and quietly cried myself to sleep. When I woke, it was raining.

06

My memory has been strange the last few years. It's not that I have trouble making new memories, (that movie, you know?, with that guy?, he couldn't remember--that made me laugh) or that i've blocked out my past or anything like that. I just can't remember everything all the time. That's why I try not to tell jokes. I get halfway through and forget the punchline and have to stop from embarrassment. Later, sometimes two weeks or so, the punchline will come to me unbidden and alone and i'm left wondering why the hell i'm thinking of a sugar-frosted duck.

I have better luck with names and faces, i'm usually pretty good at remembering those, but I do have my slips. It seems like if I don't catch your name the first time I meet you I'll never learn it, so I make up nicknames for just about everyone I meet. That's how i often find myself hanging out with Chicken Leg, The Grinch, and Private Private.

07




08


And not just the visible spectrum, either.
I dream in UV,
Fucking infrared,
oh the things I dream.

The unfortunate thing is that there are no names for these colours, and as soon as I open my eyes they're gone anyway.

Goddammit.

09

I think at this point we're scratching the tip of the iceburg. I'm starting to trust you a little, and maybe just maybe you're starting to like me. Or if not like me, then at least empathize. So I apologize for what's going to happen. From here on out things are going to be a little more hectic. Disorganized. Unhealthy. You see, I had to get you on my side first, now I can open up a little. Let you in. From here on out there might be scribbles, or drawings, or pictures, or more typing. Most likely alloftheabove. And ultimately, I don't care if it's jarring and you don't like it. I'm jarring, and people don't like me, and what is this but a mirror? I hold myself up to the page and capture as much as I remember and write it down, or draw it.

My metaphor is weaker than my smile.

You don't like it.

And just when it was starting to get interesting.

10

Another this I did was for one whole month i didn't leave the house. Thank the internet and online banking and seventeen news channels with streamers across the bottom that make you feel like if you blink you missed that crucial piece of the puzzle that would tie it all together. There is only so much before you're dying for fresh air. After a week i was insane. Another week and I was cured. The next week I never left the tub, not once. Not that I remember anyway. During the last 10 days, I not only bit off my fingernails, I bit off most of my right pinky.

On the last day, I broke the top knuckle, and one of my teeth. My finger was a shredded mess of blood and bits, it hurt so bad I couldn't touch it but I kept biting.

The next day, and stitches, and the doc nods and uh-hums and yesses me in to more hydrocodone. I'd hate myself if it weren't for the drugs.


11

I'd hate the drugs if it weren't for myself.

ha. ha ha.

Every now and then I see something funny enough to share with the four of you that read this thing. Here's another.

October 4, 2008

Life is full of hard choices. Sometimes the smallest, most insignificant things can be dreadful to pick between. Pancakes or waffles? This shirt or that one? Name brand or generic? It is amazing that we can obsess so completely over these things that ultimately don't matter. But I digress. Every now and then, you have a choice that is so monumental it will shape the rest of your life, and it's actually made easily.

Long story short (too late) I asked Laura to marry me this past Friday, and it was one of the easiest decisions i've ever made. Of course she accepted, and her family couldn't be happier, unless maybe i was making six figures a year (i'm not). We've already chosen a date (again an easy choice) which you will find at the heading of this blog. So, in a little less than a year and a half from now, Laura and I will tie the knot.

Only three days into this thing and she's already got a binder full of clippings from bridal magazines, has picked her colors, and has chuckled over the fact that her initials will be lbs. I've suggested that she get familiar with the pound sign (which i can't remember the type code for) so she can initial things more quickly. I just know that any day now i'm going to find a piece of wide-ruled notebook paper with various signature options signed across it. Laura Smyer. Laura Jennifer Smyer. Laura Braune Smyer. That last one doesn't sound Germanic at all, does it?

And finally, NO, she's not pregnant. We'll give that one a few years. That way I can be almost sixty by the time he/she graduates.

Much love!

rambling

Seven stones
One for each day and none
For the days after.

I've learned to walk sideways
And the world will not follow suit.

So i'll keep:
The things in my pockets,
A lighter and some loose change,
And slowly poison myself away.

Or maybe that's all for another day.

If they could bar wars.....

So last Friday (June 1) the Alabama Symphony Orchestra put on a show in Caldwell Park, celebrating the music of Star Wars. Needless to say, it was a HUGE geekfest and we all had a great time. Several people showed up in full costume to celebrate, and being the nerds we are, we couldn't help but pose for a few shots. Here's Phil being force choked by Vader:



I was just trying to get away from a snowtrooper, but I rounded the wrong corner:



And finally, Brian shows us why you shouldn't try to spring prisoners, even if they are conspicuously dressed like workers from Chappy's deli:



Man that's fun. Here's a little more Star Wars greatness:

Isaac

Just some general information on my new nephew, Isaac Ellis Sawyer. He joined us Wednesday, June 6th shortly before 9 a.m. He weighed in at a little over six pounds and is about a foot and a half long. Here are some pics of the happy family:







more pics and video to come.

Here we go.

Well, here it is...the beginnings of a new blog. I don't know if this will be as wildly popular as the myspace blog, and I don't much care. If you were familiar with that one (blog.myspace.com/madeofmyth) then you can expect pretty much the same sort of stuff here. It promises to be a lot of wild and crazy fun, so don't be afraid to come along for the ride!!