Peaceful Country, Infuriating.

Pretty Blonde

 I can't escape it. My folks watching back-to-back episodes of '24' at full volume.

BOOQUE... BIQUE... BOOQUE... BIQUE

That's my onomatopoeia of the ticking time bomb sound between segments of the series' episodes. It's almost as welcome to my ears as the tantalizing cymbal rolls at twenty-five second intervals on that 'Amazing Race' show I'm subjected to once a week.

While out for a cigarette, I could still discern the rapid-fire dialogue blaring from the Bose as far away as the vegetable garden, a full twenty-four paces from the back door of the house.

During the day, it's ALL 'General Hospital' - which as you may know, involves a great deal of sobbing, yelling, babies screaming, and baritone, monotonic mood-piano.  

The constant intrusiveness of the mood enhancing soundtracks and dramatic dialogue is not at all conducive to the creative process, so I'm giving-up on songwriting until my circumstances change. I find it almost impossible to form a complex thought let alone begin to punctuate and formulate lyrics with melodies in my mind. Still, I suppose I'm lucky it's just mundane irritants and I'm not cowering in a bomb shelter or hiding in an attic somewhere.

It's really a bit of a madhouse at times - this house I find myself living in thanks to my parents' graciousness. In those rare moments that the satellite feed isn't cranked-up to permeating levels, I find myself anxiously awaiting the next round of bickering, quarreling, or tedious "request". I know I shouldn't complain given all the real unrest around the world today, but I find it pointless to even attempt to do   anything  requiring more than five minutes of an uninterrupted attention span! I've gotten to the stage where I just think, "Fuck it. I'm not even going to bother to try to learn TCP/IP configuration procedures or learn about protons. I just know someone's going to ask me to pull weeds or peel onions any second now."

I'm thinking of heading up north to work this winter. The way I see it, if I can't make music or learn networking, I may as well make some decent coin turning a wheel and pushing a gas pedal for big oil all day. 

   

Pretty Red Head