The Bosque

Wolf--Guest Manifesto Writer

This is what I get for sitting down and not considering what I needed to write a manifesto about. See, I have to leave for work within a half-hour, and have no guarantee that I would be able to write anything before midnight was upon me, and that damn sycamore reset the time, so even if I DO technically have an extra hour since midnight there is 1 AM here, it doesn't really mean anything, because the number of nights that I'm actually home by 1AM are few and far between. But I'll get this in here, and have served my responsibility as well as I could under the circumstances, because, after all, sycamore is now home and despite whining about dialup could certainly be back to his usual expressions of wit and wisdom on a daily basis were he not actually a terrible slacker. So here I am staring at the keyboard and nothing is coming out, not quite as bad as actual writer's block which, quite honestly, involves a lot more pain and pacing. I haven't done any pacing at all, which is good because I really don't have the room for it. And in order for me to pace properly, I really have to be able to curse a lot, because pacing while screaming "Goddamn motherfucker sonofabitch" is a lot more effective, and as it happens leads to further writer's block, I'll bet you didn't know that, because the two activities of pacing and cursing occupy enough of your neurons that the ones that have been tasked with creativity have to attend to things like helping you to remember that you breathe. I mean if you didn't have these kinds of controls built into human biology we'd really spend a lot more time using feces as an art supply. Which you can only do if you have an NEA funded grant for your project, and there is some kind of religious iconography involved. I have to remember to pick up some butter and bread tonight on the way home from work, but I hate going into convenience stores after midnight when I'm unarmed. I need a cigarette.

Wolf--Guest Manifesto Writer

There are a lot of people out there with strange hobbies.

When I really started to consider it, it turns out that most of my hobbies are pretty normal, run of the mill, boring even.

I mean come on, I crochet.

Just like your grandma.

And probably like your great-grandma on the frontier I wouldn't drop a stitch if I had to put down the crocheting to take out a couple of varmints, carpetbaggers, or hostiles.

But man, there are a lot of people out there with strange hobbies.

This chick elaborately redresses fashion dolls. WHat surprised me about her, actually, is that based on the amount of work that appears to go into an individual doll, she's practically giving them away ($175 for one that was on the sales page).

There are other doll artistes that do much less, um, tasteful work (there's a whole series of heavy S&M Barbies, for example)

My Pretty Pony is back too. A new paint job and some new hair and they are off to have some new and even more amazing adventures.

Overall, though, I don't get it. I mean certainly these people have cable?

Wolf--Guest Manifesto Writer

Cat.

I was going to start off by busting on Young Sycamore, but I really can't.

There isn't, truthfully, a lot to bust on mah niggah about.

He's a good guy. He's enthusiastic. He has a way of bringing you a fresh view, often of things you know well.

He's brave in a way that I never have been ... many times in his life expanding well beyond his comfort zone, moving to and falling in love with cities he never knew before. Hell, man, you even managed to get me to set foot across the city line more than once ... something that I haven't really done in the last 10 years or so.

He's heading home for a well-deserved time of renewal, and move onward and upward from there.

I'm going to miss you being around, you know.

And I sincerely hope you'll be back. Not just for visits.

Godspeed and safe journey.

Well folks, we've come to the end of the line here in Philadelphia, and it's time for me to say goodbye. I'm leaving for St. Louis today or tomorrow...Wolf will run the show for the next few days.

My five years here were almost always difficult in some way shape or form, but it has been an incredible learning experience and has made me a better and wiser person. I can at least say that I really enjoyed my last 9 months here, and that I'm definitely going to miss all the good folks I've met on Cellar and PB as well as my beloved Germantown.

WWD, where the fuck do I begin with you? Thanks for joining us here and encouraging the pottymouthedness.

Geno, may you develop those kids at MLK into the best future members of our military. Good luck with everything.

Bruce, you are one of the wisest people I've ever met, and I've learned a great deal from you. Keep collecting those dodads.

Wolf, you've been a true friend, particularly during my recent rough patch. I'll miss you dearly. Though I'm pissed about not going shooting, I'll get over it. :)

And thank you to everyone I met in Philadelphia, be it on the street or Usenet or message boards...you've all made me a better person in some way, shape or form.

I'll leave you all with a favorite song of mine, "Traveling Day" from 24-7 Spyz:

Sorry to say, I'm leaving today
Far away from here
Sorry to say, traveling day
See the world appear
Won't have to ask what time of day
Won't care about tomorrow
Which menu will I choose
It's a blessing, to wake up in another place
No more spare change will I give
The streets will still be crowded
Another dollar spent
I'm packing I say, It's a gamble to stay
New faces new ways
So long Loanshark Johnny
Moonlight traces, morning graces.
Fly on Yankee Clipper wings
Another unknown city, concrete standing tall
Directions ahead, Blackout ruins of a day
Expressions of the people passing by
I know they wonder why I look the way I do
Saturday feels like another day, Sunday's gone it's another day
One day I'll be back again.

And lastly...

April, see you in a couple of days...maybe. :)

See you all later in the week from the Gateway City!

Peace,
el sicómoro

From MSNBC: A blaze at an industrial plant sent huge fireballs shooting into the sky Friday afternoon, casting a towering cloud of black smoke over the area as traffic backed up and nearby residents evacuated their homes.

There were no injuries, St. Louis Fire Chief Sherman George said. There also was no word on the cause of the rapid-fire series of spectacular explosions at Praxair Distribution, which processes propane and other gases for industrial use.

If you looked at Thursday's Manifesto and counted the days until my move, you would have come up with a move date of July 5th. However, if you look at the above title, you will notice that the move date is now just 4 days away--Wednesday.

On Monday, after talking with my mom, I decided that I would go home the 29th. It's nice to have the place to myself, but...

--The sooner I get home, the sooner I can get on with my new life.

--After Sunday, my social events calendar is essentially empty.

--Welcome America! and Live8 are going to make Philadelphia a fine mess for the next 2 weeks. I'd love to see Live8 in person, but what are the chances that I'm really going to see much in person? It's not like I'm gonna camp out and shit.

Originally, I was planning to keep my return home date a secret from April, hence why as of 2 days ago, it was "12 days away." But like a big dummy, I decided to taunt her with the fact that I had a secret, and then wound up telling her. *shrugs* Shit happens. :)

Carpet cleaning is coming along nicely...the bedroom and hallway are done. I'll do the dining room later this morning and the living room tomorrow, along with the rest of the cleaning. The apartment will be ready to give back by Monday afternoon.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep...Forks is later today...whoohoo!

Wolf and I did went to a PhillyBlog Happy Hour last night...





I think I've drank more in the past week than I have in the past year. But it's all good...I think I've earned the right to do some celebrating. And the biggest celebration of all (at least, here in Philadelphia) is just over a day away.

Whoooooooohoooooooo!

Bedroom:






Hallway:




Living room:




Dining room:


Kitchen:


We did some drinking this past weekend...it was mostly me:

If you're not already familiar with them, I highly recommend getting familiar with the music of Threebrain...Goddamn they're funny.

They've made videos for some of their songs, and Tim and I latched on to one in particular over the weekend called "ABC's." It's one of the most ridiculous creations I've ever seen.

But there was one part of the song that we just couldn't quite figure out. For the entire weekend, we thought that the song said, "R is rape" or "R is for Rape Man." It's sung so quickly, it's hard to understand just what is being said. After doing some investigating, I have discovered that what is actually being said is, "R is for rancid!"

Glad I could help you all out with that. Now back to your regularly-scheduled lives.

From MSNBC: An 80-year-old former Ku Klux Klansman was convicted of manslaughter Tuesday in the 1964 slayings of three civil rights workers — exactly 41 years after they disappeared.

The jury of nine whites and three blacks reached the verdict on their second day of deliberations, rejecting murder charges against Edgar Ray Killen.

Pay careful attention to the paragraphs under "Perspectives on KKK"...unbelievable.

Here are some photos of what my apartment looked like after removing Rho's stuff, but before most of my stuff was taken back to St. Louis:











On one hand, I'm enjoying the solitude...it's nice to not have to run errands and cook for anyone other than me. And things are nice and peaceful. But on the other hand, I wanted to come home yesterday. I'm ready to start my new life right now. Must...be...patient...

Beer time!

...someone puts you in a headlock?

Tim (my brother), Doug (his friend) and I were hanging out here at the apartment last night, celebrating my newfound freedom. Doug wound up falling asleep early, and Tim and I were talking about doing something crazy and childish to him. I then decided to start taking unannounced photos...for example:

"Hey Tim..."

*Tim turns and looks at me*

*Click!*

I went into the kitchen for a second, and came back out, semi-running towards Doug's bed...I was gonna snap a quick picture of him. All of a sudden, he leaps out of bed, screaming, "Not while I'm sleeping!" He then grabs me and puts me in a headlock.

At first, I thought he was just playing around, but once I got out of the headlock, he looked all angry and crazy and shit, like he wanted to kick my ass. He then proceeded to lay back down, and said nothing else the rest of the night.

My brother and I were speechless...we don't know what the fuck it was all about. I think I'll let it slide this time...next time, he's getting a good old fashioned South City asswhuppin.

For the first time since November 30, 1995, I am totally independent: no girlfriend, no roommate, no parents.

Right now, I just feel so tired. Like I worked a really hard day, and am just beat. Of course, I only got 4 1/2 hours of sleep...and I was in a car for over 4 hours today...and we HAVE moved a lot of stuff over the past 2 days...and I've drank quite a bit over the past 3 days...but still...

Since I don't know if/when this will ever happen again, I'm gonna enjoy the next 2 weeks. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a beer with my name on it...

While our relationship did not last as long as we had hoped, we certainly had our share of good times, and I will always treasure them. Part of me will always love you, and you will always hold a special place in my heart.

Take care of yourself. I hope that you find the happiness and inner peace that currently elude you. I think being back home in Baltimore will help with that.

Love,
Terry
*hugs*

5:00 PM EDT yesterday: I find out that Rho's car needs a new right front ball joint. The repair itself is not a big deal...but the problem is that the mechanics can't get the part in until next Tuesday. I won't have the time to really mess with it next week, nor do I want Rho staying here any longer than Saturday.

I present Rho with her options: Risk driving the car to Baltimore and putting it in front of her parents' house, have it towed back or come get it next week. She goes with option 1, then hesitates. I decided to go ahead and drive it down to Baltimore...now. Rho is responsible for any expenses I incur on my trip.

6:00 PM: I leave the apartment to get her car. It's 15 miles from the apartment, and kinda hard to get to from where I live on SEPTA.

7:45 PM: I finally get to the car, and head to Baltimore.

10:00 PM: I arrive at her parents' house safe and sound.

11:00 PM: A cab finally arrives to pick me up from a nearby 7-Eleven...I've been waiting almost 45 minutes for the motherfucker to come. The guy would have been loved by Wolf--a good hard-core conservative. Except that his personality was like Robert DeNiro in "Taxi Driver."

11:30 PM: I get to Penn Station in Baltimore to take a train back to Philadelphia...and discover that the next one does not come for 4 hours.

Around this time, April calls. This is like Halley's Comet--a rare event. We wind up talking for almost an hour-and-a-half.

12:45-2:15 AM this morning: I walk down Charles St. towards the Harbor. I stop at a place called Burke's for a sandwich and a couple of beers. I then make my way back up St. Paul St. to Penn Station.

California had umbrellas, Chicago had cows, New York had orange gateways...Baltimore currently has crabs. (What else?) There are these large crab sculptures all over Downtown that are decorated in various ways. The one in front of the Legg Mason building was particularly cool: It was a mosaic.

2:15-2:45 AM: I rest under a sculpture at Penn Station.

2:45-3:35 AM: I try to relax while waiting for the train, but the A/C in Penn Station is being redone, so there is none. I step outside, and this guy starts talking to me--he tells me about how his mom owns some land in upstate New York, but that his brother is a crack addict and will eventually cause her to lose it.

3:35-4:30 AM: The train ride is uneventful. Just after Wilmington (40 miles south of Philadelphia), I doze off.

5:00 AM: I wake up and see Philadelphia's 30th Street Station.

Conductor: "I thought you were getting off in Philly."

Me: "I am."

Conductor: "We just left there 5 minutes ago. What, did you fall asleep?"

Fuck!!!

5:45 AM: I arrive in Trenton (30 miles north of Philadelphia). I go up to the concourse and immediately catch an R7 (SEPTA commuter train) back to Philadelphia.

6:30 AM: I arrive back at 30th Street Station and hail a taxi. The driver proceeds west on the Schuylkill Expressway (I-76) at an impressive rate of speed during morning rush hour. He takes on Lincoln Dr. (4 lanes, full of curves, narrow) at 50 mph, playing Pac-Man the whole way.

6:50 AM: I still have to fucking go out and buy Rho insulin, which I was supposed to do yesterday.

7:10 AM: Burger King Croissan'wiches...*drools*

7:30 AM: Bed.

God...what a night.

Everything is coming together...

Rho is all packed up, with 3 days to spare. Her parents get the keys to her apartment today, and I'm going to start taking stuff down there tomorrow. My brother and his friend will be here tomorrow night, and we'll probably get most of Rho's stuff out of here Friday. Hmmm...maybe I can get her to leave Friday...

I've got some of my stuff packed up, and will do more of it between today and Sunday. It's kinda hard to do, seeing that I'm still gonna be here three more weeks. I'm trying to get rid of as much stuff as possible, but you never know what you'll need. Lessee...for the next 3 weeks, I'll be watching TV, sleeping, drinking, playing on the computer and sending out resumes.

Hmmm...guess I don't need that much after all.

I'm ready for this to be over. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm pooped...

You all know about the elusive April, right?

Well, I asked her today when she was going to finally register and post here at The Bosque, b/c she's apparently been reading. And I told her that I'd start talking shit about her if she didn't.

She then dared me to do such a thing. And so...here it is.

(April, you really shouldn't make such dares. :))

What do you think would happen if I put 100 octane racing fuel into my 2003 Chevy Malibu with a 3100cc V6 that normally gets 87 octane gas?

Regards,
Sycamore

I've found some interesting things while packing over the past couple of days...concert ticket stubs, college textbooks, a drum machine...

But I found a real gem yesterday:



Ladies and gentlemen and WWD, this is "Scarred Poetry," the notebook that contains all the songs I wrote for Sycamore (the band) in final form: 20 compositions penned between 1992 and 1996, including some never before seen by eyes other than mine.

Looking back at them, it's interesting to see where I was at the times I wrote the songs and remembering what inspired me to write them. Most of them are full of vitriol and anger, while a couple of them are ridiculous love songs...and then there is one that is just plain odd. I actually posted it on Sycamoreland, but I'll put it up in the Café along with the "unreleased" ones.

There may be new poems/songs on the way...I've been feeling inspired lately.

Change everything you are
And everything you were
Your number has been called

Fights and battles have begun
Revenge will surely come
Your hard times are ahead

Best, you've got to be the best
You've got to change the world
And use this chance to be heard
Your time is now

Don't let yourself down
Don't let yourself go
Your last chance has arrived

Written by Matthew Bellamy, from the CD Absolution by Muse

I follow celebrity gossip, but it's not like I really give a shit about it. So Seal is marrying Heidi Klum...big fucking deal, ya know? I mean, that's great and all, but it's not like it's going to make my life any better, so...

From what I've been reading and hearing recently, it seems that Tom Cruise is taking a hit for professing his love for Katie Holmes so much, particularly on Oprah last month. A poll by Entertainment Weekly recently showed that "61 percent of respondents said they liked Cruise less now after the recent exhaustive attention to his personal life." (Source)

This struck a bit of a nerve with me. I think it's cool that the guy loves his woman so much that he announces it to the world. Over the top a bit? Sure. But it seems to me that he obviously loves Holmes...I don't recall him being like this when he was with Penelope Cruz. The guy's private life has been in the spotlight almost constantly since his breakup with Nicole Kidman. And both Cruise and Holmes have big movies coming out in a matter of weeks (Cruise in "War of the Worlds," Holmes in "Batman Begins"), so they're going to get even more media attention. Plus they're both well-known and well-liked. So if anything, it's the media's fault for giving them so much attention...don't blame Cruise.

When I fall in love again, I hope I feel a similar way for my lady. And when I'm in love again, you can bet that you'll all hear about it...whether you like it or not. :)

...what they put on their personal plates:

These are some of the photos from my road trip last weekend:

A gas station in Eaton, OH:



The Rock and Roll HOF in Cleveland:



Primanti Brothers in Pittsburgh...mmmm:



All 39 photos can be viewed here.

Last week on The Cellar, Jim Helm aka Lumberjim (who is also on The Bosque under the same handle) mentioned that people that read the Bosque "can get valuable reviews about what kind of bologna tastes the best."

Well, I checked the board, and sadly, we have never discussed bologna here before. But we will today...a big thanks to Jim for the inspiration for this Manifesto!

I used to eat a lot of bologna as a child, but given that it's not exactly good for you, I don't eat much of it these days. Every now and then though, I get a hankering for a bologna sandwich with ketchup. Or fried bologna...mmmm!

I can't say that I've ever had authentic Lebanese bologna...is it good? I imagine that it is.

In St. Louis, the best bologna is/was Seitz, particularly the garlic-flavored variety. Unfortunately, I don't know if they're still in business/selling in St. Louis. I can't really speak for here in Philadelphia, but I would imagine that Dietz & Watson makes a good bologna.

I can eat bologna with ketchup, hot sauce or BBQ sauce, but I can't imagine putting any other condiment on it. I dunno...mustard might be alright. Mayo? Ewww!

Man...this has brought back some great childhood memories for me. Hopefully, it will for you, too.

I knew that this might be coming, but until it happened, I was just playing everything normal.

Yesterday, I was released from disability. I'm down 20 pounds total (I gained a few pounds while back home), my cholesterol numbers are good, my other blood tests checked out fine and I feel great. So, I called my boss to let her know, and she told me she needed to check a few things with HR and would get back to me.

2 weeks ago, we had talked on the phone, and she asked if I'd be alright with being let go early. Things in my department have changed quite radically in the past 3 months, from what I understand, and for me to come back for 3 weeks would not be worth it to either the company or me. So long as I was going to get paid through my official resignation date (July 1st), I had no complaints.

Well, the okay came from HR today: I'll be paid through July 1st, plus get the week of vacation that I haven't used.

Let me tell you how much ass this kicks: I'll be getting paid for 5 weeks of work at my full salary without lifting a finger. Currently, I'm only getting 30% of my salary on disability.

Now, I have 5 weeks to finish packing Rho's stuff, finish packing my stuff, drink and enjoy my last days here.

Time to celebrate, bitches! :)

I just walked in the door about a half-hour ago from my cross-country excursion. More on that later...there's the daily Manifesto to take care of first.

Everything is pretty much the way I left it 2 weeks ago. Fortunately, Rho didn't make too much of a mess while I was gone, though I have dishes and laundry to do and trash to throw out. I'd say that I'm halfway done with packing her stuff with just under 2 weeks to go.

The next 2 weeks are going to be nuts. In addition to making sure all her shit is packed and ready to go, I'm supposed to be going back to work on Tuesday. Word around the campfire is that I'll be let go as soon I'm released from disability, but my company does strange things, so until I walk out the building with my desk in my box...

Of course, there's still my stuff to pack, too. But a good chunk of it is already in boxes, ready for my brother to take back in 2 weeks. It's going to be bare bones around the apartment for my final 3 weeks.

Time to get into gear...I don't want a repeat of last September.

This Manifesto was written by guest host Wolf

Hear ye now, the words of the Only begotten Daughter* of God ...

That's right.

The latest furor in the Christian world is a new edition of the Bible that gives Jesus a sex change and renames Her Judith.

Okay, Jesus doesn't really get a sex change. They didn't have them then. But He gets born a woman.

You know, that thing that Orthodox Jewish Males thank G-d they weren't born as every single day.

A chick.

There have been some odd attempts at Bible Translation over the years, trying to make The Bible more hip or more relevant or whatever (I still look back on the "Father-Mother" controversy with some amusement and fondness), but this one has got to take the cake.

As one of the more insightful amazon.com reader/reviewers pointed out (not that I expect him/her to have bought and read the volume under consideration), "Judith" would be a feminization of "Judas."

For now, I'll stick with The Bible I stole out of the hotel room. Near as I can tell, it still works.




_________________________________________
*I do believe I read a science fiction novel by James Morrow called "Only Begotten Daugter" some years ago. yep. I sure did.

Manager
Imo's Pizza
9163 Reavis Barracks Rd.
St. Louis, MO 63123

Dear Sir or Madam:

On Thursday June 2, 2005, I ate at your eating establishment. While the salad and pizza were superb, I noticed 2 major appearance issues that are preventing your restaurant from being top-notch.

Firstly, several tables in the restaurant were dirty. And for the majority of my meal, I was the only person in there. However, two families came in shortly after 8PM, and were clearly disgusted by the dirty tables. Cleaning the tables immediately after guests depart is not only sanitary, but shows that neatness is important to you.

The second issue involves the music choice of your employees. While I was there, your employees were listening to the CD "Mezmerize" by the rock group System of a Down. While I am a huge fan of SOAD, given that Imo's is a "family" restaurant, the music of SOAD is highly inappropriate. Especially when small children are around, and the lyrics have a high number of curse words.

I'd be happy to review your operations with you further, to help you maximize your potential while minimizing your expenses. I think you'll find that my rates are very reasonable. Please contact me at terry (at) sicomoro dot us for more information.

Regards,
Terry B
Sycamore Consulting

By golly, I think I could be good at this!

...in "ESPN":

I lived in the neighborhood for 16 years, was a parishoner for 9 years, attended the grade school for 2 1/2 years (and graduated from it in 1990) and will treasure the good memories I have from my days there.

The school closed last Friday, the church closes June 26th.

Resurrection of Our Lord Catholic Parish
1929-2005





The school:



We used to play fuzzball, wiffleball and hockey on the church parking lot:





We couldn't play hockey up by the parish garage, though:

...I'd be pretty pissed.



If I were the architect of this act, I'd be quite proud.

As an observer, I'm rather impressed.