Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Police encounters and Moes subs

a taste comparison of Moes and Breadbox subs. the jury is still out. what do you think?

rebuilt the front steps of 134 Lincoln...



I'm not sure why I thought the "great bog" would be dry enough to hike through. it wasn't.
soon after this the police rolled up on my van...



a tree fungus that looked dangerous...

I forget the cop's name who admired my van. Copley, I think. We chatted. I invited him in "to smoke a bong" and he laughed. He was friendly. We probably know some of the same people in town. He was just responding to a neighborhood complaint about my van that had been parked there for about 20 minutes.
"That license plate reminds me of chips," he said.
"It's a beauty. I'm looking for electronic work. Know of any."
"Silicone valley probably has some."
and I wonder if this was a subtle hint to get out of town...to go back where I came from. Maybe. But I'm not leaving. My family is buried here and not in Silicone valley.

the family burial ground...


I decided to just make the pants I want...easier said than done...

Vote for your favorite beard...full...goatee...mustache...none





This was all in anticipation of my meeting with Salient Surgical. I wasn't waiting for them to call me.Fuck it. I was just going to walk in there and get the job. I couldn't find a place to park and ended up directly in front of the main board room. I'd like to say the CEO walked out and asked, "Is that a 1969 econoline?"
"Of course."
"I have a question."
"Ask away."
"Does the transmission have a separate radiator?"
"No sir. The heavy duty radiator that is installed on this one has a separate reservoir at the bottom for the transmission fluid circulation."
"Ah. thanks. what are you here for?"
"To get that assembly job. Now, we can talk about why I'm perfect for it. But that would be a waste of time. The main problem is the wages. I gotta have $15 bones in my pocket every hour."
"No. Just give me the $15. End of story. Don't think about it. This is the easiest decision you have to make today."
"Ok. You're hired."

That's how it was supposed to go. But it went more like this...
I stumble in wearing my Greek sailing hat, beads flailing in the wind. The people in the board room call security when they see my van. My pants have patches. The receptionist says,
"Are you lost?"
"No," I say, "I'm here to apply for..."
"That position has been filled."
"Are you sure, because..."
"It's been filled."
"What about..." (there are 4 jobs open on their website)
"Sir, that has also been filled. Why don't you let these men show you back to your van."
Ten seconds later I am back on the street. I literally drive passed the "clean room" where I should be working. I look inside at men wearing all white suits that cover their whole bodies. white hoods. white masks. they are concentrating on some blue plastic bin full of metal. It looks like a morgue. There are big windows and one of the guys looks out at me and says something to the other guy. They both look at me. I look back at them. Then I hit the CEOs Lexus SUV as he pulls into the parking lot. I don't get the job.

So I go downtown and play jazz guitar by a jewelery store that has a help wanted sign. A guy closes it up as I play some blues.
"You looking for sales or repair."
"The sign is for sales. You do repair?"
"Yes I do. Soldering."
"We can start you on costume jewelery and you work up to gold and diamonds."
"Sounds good. You got a workshop?"
"No. It's all take home."
"well, I'll stop by when I get one of those."

That was Brandon. So I play some miles davis tunes until my neck hurts. It is warm out but it is Monday and the few people pass by without much notice. Then a young black dude comes up behind me and starts to make those beat box sounds with his mouth. But Jazz is all swing and beat box rap is straight 4/4 time so it doesn't work. I stop the backing track and he starts going,

"On the street with the meat my home boy walks with blood on his feet
don't call me nigger my name is bigger than the man in the moon his finger on the trigger
I'm a smooth cat with bag full of rap you can't touch my rhyme with a feather in your cap
I spin my flow and you don't know that the best part of night is when you sniffing up the blow
the bitches all bow my kingdom is now with my crown of thorns a man is reborn..."

in the most unbelievable freestyle flow rap that I have ever witnessed. So I start beating on my guitar and play an easy blues lick to the time he has set. And this goes on for minutes and minutes. He never stops. he never pauses and his rhymes are incredibly good and lyrical and his vocabulary and phrasing is like he had rehearsed this for months but I can tell his is making it up on the spot because he talking about me as "the man with pick strumming his licks a red sox cap and his dick in the street..."
he's literally a word savant. I can't even type the kind of flow he created ON THE SPOT and another guy shows up out of nowhere with a video camera and starts to video tape it. And the beat box is telling me about his day waiting for his friends and trying to get a cigarette, singing and rapping. I'm in awe but play and scratch my pick on the strings like a record. Then we stop and he walks away. He's wearing a bright blue shirt with a walkman on it. The man is a genius.

then I talked to another street musician wth a broken hand. And then I had a slice of pizza a NY as Denver and Pitt started their game. Then I walked back to the van which was parked by the junior high school. Not a great location but close to the library. I fell asleep in my clothes. This is home to me. The little league park. leary field. the JFK. But the police are already on my trail so I'm still looking for a job.


unemployed ed said...

leave it to the websters to not pay for head stone. Just use a nearby rock and throw a nameplate on it....haha.

all the beards suck. The goatee looks like a pedofile/charlie manson stunt double and the clean look just looks out of place with your hair and clothes....maybe just wear a mask.

Can you really beat moe's? I mean really?

Oggy Bleacher said...

ed, where do you live? we gotta go out sometime. email me your number

p.s. I need a place to park the van.

ed said...

im thinking about becoming a portsmouth cop...that's stable employment right??? then I could give you a break and let you live in your van maybe in the back of pick and pay parking lost. you would have to grease me of course...maybe like $50/month.

Creative Commons License
Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.