The Dyes of Patch 1

In these final entries, seeing as though Karmath the Blog has been primarily a personal MP3 journal, I'd like to share the main influences of my songwriting. My "greatest hits" if you will. What with all the MP3 "Best of the Year" lists and everything, I figured I'd show you where I take most of my inspiration from in the music world.

I s'pose I'll start at the back end of inspiration and work my way up.

I love artists who blend a lot of genres together into a hodge podge collage, creating an entirely new sound all their own. They aren't creating a movement, but they are creative enough to show that they are true geniuses. I take a great liking to raw rock, big drums and production. I also love riff rock, heavy recognizable riffs that are both easy to play and easy to remember. Riffs that get stuck in your head.

I'm a fan of music that changes its production from song to song. What happens when you take an electronic music duo production team that makes great heavy sample beats from all sorts of different sources and put them together with a singer/songwriter with a nack for folk/rock/blues/funk/dance/country/experimental music? Genre bender with production bender = Beck.

I consider Beck's best albums to be the ones where he teamed up with The Dust Brothers, best known for the Fight Club soundtrack they scored. These albums include "Odelay", "Midnight Vultures", and "Guero". There are so many different sounds from song to song, it's like a new palette was created for each. They're so interesting to hear and distinguishing and taking in each new timbre of each new song's aural palette is extremely engaging and fun. These albums are what gave me my love for really staying in tune to production and found noises. It keeps albums interesting. You're reinventing yourself with each new song. Beck does this better than any other artist I know.

I try to make all of my songs sound different. I want each record to sound different. I want all sorts of different styles within my music, blending together to create a new whole.

Here's a good example of a quintessential influential Beck song: Derelict from "Odelay". It has samples galore mixed with found, somewhat sloppy noises. It's dark, with a distorted vocal line. Plus, the eastern instruments provide for a sort of drug induced ambience that's not uncommon for Beck. His ridiculousness can sometimes provide for some far out noises and feelings.

So, we've got found noises, a great collage of different genres, great production, and an empathetical feeling due to all. I have no idea what the song is about, but I feel like I do:

Beck -- "Derelict"

M*****

One of the key elements to Patch is the notion of the Underground. In all of my experience with live and local music, you might be the greatest band in the world, but nobody knows who you are, your shows are going to have little to no crowd. There's no scene for you. This is the hardest element to local music. How to get people to see you time after time after time within the space of a couple months.

My goal is to infiltrate the underground scene. Half of the shows we will do will not be at a traditional venue. There will be a few times when I will ask the boys to pitch in for a noise permit at public places. Free places (I've done enough research on noise ordinances and noise permits recently to outsmart the peeps picking up at 311). Party houses. Secret clubs.

One of these not-so-secret clubs is Medusa. I feel strange telling of its whereabouts, almost like saying "Scottish Play" instead of "Macbeth" while you're in a theatre space. This place is prime Patch space. It's somewhat forbidden, it's dark, it's gross, it's crawling with hipsters ripe for the picking to bang heads with visceral indie rock.

The first show Patch will perform live at will be at Schuyler's new studio space a couple blocks down from my house. It will be small, a few people will be invited. Intimate and stifling. After that, with each Live storyline, there will be a non-traditional venue serving as our performance space. I imagine some places to be parking lots, alleyways, high traffic areas showcasing the nightly jaunts of youngsters and fauxsters.

This will help garner interest in coming to traditional live venues. I'm not spilling the beans on some of the antics we'll be pulling. They will be changing from show to show. That will be half the fun of coming to each show of Patch, shows where I hope to handpick our favorite local bands for bill lineups that would compliment us and compliment them given the theme of the night. That's the ideal, anyway.

So far, what I've been throwing around is the Schematics theme, where different projects are hinted at. Schematics features demos that I hope to rerecord (or use again) that belong on future projects and storylines. "Typosgraphy" and "Switch" belong to one project, "Trachomanic" and "In Hopes to Mend" another, "LCD" on yet another. The live shows will feature these tracks and more, either from strictly live storylines, things I'm working on in the studio currently, or from larger album projects I have planned way down the line. Glimpses. Plans. Schematics to a larger plan . . .

After these, we will start to move in more experimental territory in Live 2.0, doing strictly Karmath material at one show, Omiss at another, Necrotica at another, etc. After that . . . I'm not sure exactly. Bigger stories, I'm guessing. I'm still working on Live 1.0 so I haven't thought too, too far ahead.

Scoping out Medusa last night was another positive step forward. I've got my foot in many doors, and this helps me get through the stress I've been feeling on a daily basis these last two months.

Liars -- "Grown Men Don't Fall In the River, Just Like That"

The Lonely Deaths of Dream Chasers

One of the most confounding statements we are bombarded with from birth is "Follow your dreams. If you persevere, you will reach your goals."

First: define your dream. If you want to be President, CEO of a company, a rock star, a sports player, a celebrity of some sort, an astronaut, a top dawg lawyer, whatever, there are a ton of hoops you need to jump through.

For becoming any sort of worker you have to pull your weight in school. Now, I do find college to be challenging, but it's easy. You follow the guidelines, it's all written out for you, you've got it. If you really want to make your name known at all, either on campus or post-college . . . that's where things get harder.

You want to be President? The controversies, the extreme amount of opposition from the public, etc. Sports player? Health concerns, your own body, what if you trip and completely screw up your ankle permanently? CEO of a business? Learn how to deal with people hating your guts, people throwing faux love at you to get work, learn how to be a ruthless son of a bitch when it comes to hard decisions. You're going to have to ruin people's lives at times in order to make the business succeed.

For me it's obviously rock star. If it's to be a common, everyday rock cover artist, that's easy. But if it's a vision, a true vision for a new movement in music, I can't tell you the stress I've had from Patch.

The latest battle over the Patch rehearsal space in the back of the Monroe House is one more drop in the bucket o' problems I've faced in the last year. 2009 started out with computer problems with "Schematics" recording. It then went on to having to wait four months for mixing to be started on. Then waiting another two and a half months for mixing to be worked on, now I have to wait a month for mastering to be completed. The real stress comes from the live band. Getting people into the band, clearing out the back space, trying to coordinate all of the band so that they can meet once a week. Now we're being outed by a neighbor. It's one thing after another.

I will not give up on this band. It's seriously my dream. But I'm not going to lie, I have had thoughts of "Should I just give up now? This is getting to be too hard." Of course I won't give up. But if nothing works, and problems keep facing us, when's the time to quit? When does a dream, no matter how hard you've pursued it, become a burden to an individual? When people start saying "You should quit"? When do you start to consider that possibility?

Patch can be huge. It can be known. How many challenges am I going to face to reach the goal of recognition? How many challenges will I face if we are known? A lot of it is on me since it's my vision. My parents ask me, "So, what's the gameplan for you and music? When are you going to quit and go back to school?" I haven't thought about this, to be honest. I'm 25. I'm still in the prime age of becoming a successful rock artist. If I feel like everything I'm doing is failing, then I guess I'll just know when to throw in the towel. But I don't imagine Patch to be a failure. So far, I've just had a lot of speed bumps dealing with outside forces. True tests of skill and merit.

In the research I did before writing a lot of the songs that would appear on "Schematics", I came across the notion of the West's fascination with fantasy and superheroes. Especially action heroes. These characters tend to exhibit true focus and perseverence without much effort. People latch on to that. They love seeing a figure exceed in their beliefs. Problem is, in the real world it's hard to exceed in your beliefs.

I admit, rock star is a 13 year old sort of dream. I'm a young adult still trying to do it. I'm frustrated a lot of the time, and beaten. The pain I feel in life, that is exhibited in Patch's music and performance, mainly comes from Patch itself.

Only something inside me keeps saying "Keep going . . ." I get shot by a rifle. "Keep going . . ." I get run over by a car. "Keep going . . ."

I hope that voice never says "Stop, it's okay," until I've made Patch a national entity that hasn't crashed and burned by flying too high in the celebrity world. I want to end it on my terms. When the time's right.

I guess until then I'll have to get used to the taste of metal from all of the bullets perforating my body from all the opposing forces the world throws at me.

The Flaming Lips -- "See the Leaves"

Setting Fire to the Bridge

More in the neighbor war:

I wrote a letter. Detailing what the law ordinance was, and what I was planning on doing in the coming months to help out with the situation.

Basically, she took offense to every single bulletpoint. Even coming over to her house she found offense to. Because I said that she should come over to my house to receive schedules of our practices. She said, "You aren't welcome at my house because I have dogs."

How do strangers know this? "The mailman has enough sense, why don't you?" she said to me in a voicemail on my phone. "If you don't want to get attacked, don't come over on my yard."

Oh, damn. She di'nt.

She found it insulting that I would think to buy earplugs and Ibuprofen every month for her. "I can afford my own medicine, and why would I want to put in earplugs in my own home?!"

I retorted when I called her back, "I'm sorry if I offended you. I was merely trying to offer services to the headaches we might induce on your head by playing legally next door. You said you get migraines, and if we were the cause, I wanted to help out."

She won't have any of it. She's done. No more bargaining. My letter was sympathetic (plenty of "I'm trying my best to be neighborly, I want us to remain awesome, so I'm really trying. My house is your house.") and constructive. She referred to it as "your little note" time and time again in both my voicemail and our conversation.

I basically think that any bridge gaping the trough between Nicole and I has been burned, collapsed, and washed down river. No matter what I do, nothing will fix it. We might have shared glances, awkward at best, when I'm outside doing things around the yard, but I've tried. I've done everything.

Except . . .

1) Move out, find a new space. Which costs money and puts my band in jeopardy. I'm not sure they're willing to put down money for a space at this stage in the game. It was a battle for Scotty to be in the band, now on top of that fee there's a new monthly rent fee. Great.

2) Call the cops and really find out if I'm in the legal limit of 10db's within Nicole's house. If we check out fine, then we could keep playing, according to the law. We could stop at 9:00 still, but at this point we could go on till 10:00pm as far as I care.

3) If I wanted to get even (but I don't think it'll come to this) I could call the cops on her for the domestic disputes occurring in the house, the dog biting me on a yard with no proclamation of "Beware of Dog", the other dog she has chasing my roommate down the back alley today, and the barking dogs followed by "BEAR! STOP!!!" But this is a trifle passive aggressive and mean, and I don't play that game.

I'm not sure what to do. I'm in a real pickle here.

The only good thing is I've got some time to deal with this. Patch practices have ceased due to Scotty's month long departure to Maine for Winter Break.

Rage Against the Machine -- "I'm Housin'"

War of the Neighbors

More in the saga: Neighbor VS Patch

Scotty was practicing tonight in the back for Patch and numerous other projects that he's involved with. He started at 6:30. Was going to practice 'till 8:30.

My irate neighbor with the crazy dog came pounding on the door again at 8:10. I answered it and she let me have it.

"I--I can't do it anymore. My head. My kid and his homework. You're gonna have to stop."

I listened. I said, "I can look for a space, but we're going to have one more practice tomorrow."

She said, "Not if you want the cops involved."

I shut up. I gave her the benefit of me complying to her, not saying I wasn't going to have a practice, but saying "I'll see what I can do."

I called 311 and asked for specifics on the noise issue. They said that noise cannot be louder than a conversation in the complaining neighbor's house. Here's the thing: the noise, when it permeates through our own house, is not louder than a conversation. I talked on the phone with Marta as Scotty wailed away as hard as he could.

I then walked over to the other neighbors' house, the ones with two toddlers residing within. I asked the mom, "Are we bothering you at all? Nicole is pretty irate."

She said, "No! You guys are great! You stop early, you're not too loud. You're fine."

I said, "Okay, would you say our noise is louder than a conversation at all inside the house?"

She shook her head, "No. Nobody's bothered by it. Believe me, we'd let you know. The bass is sometimes heard, but it's not too bad, no."

I said, "So, if a cop comes over and starts questioning me, you'd be okay with me saying that you were totally cool with us, the neighbors with kids, even."

She smiled and said, "Yeah, of course."

I left and walked back home, coming up with a gameplan.

When Nicole comes back over, I'll state the following:

1. Conversation noise level vs. Patch noise. The toddler family said they're fine with it.
2. When the budget allows, I will sound proof the room as much as possible.
3. 9:00 we are always done, at her request. It could be 10:00.
4. When we have enough money, we will get a practice space not in the Monroe House.
5. I will leave schedules of when we will have noise going on in the back. I will have a little envelope marked "Nicole" with my schedule on it each week posted underneath my mailbox. I will not go over to her house risking my ass again with that dog running around.
6. If we truly are talking noise issues, then when cops come over I can bring up the fact that her dog wakes my roommates up at all hours of the night. It barks all hours of the day. Domestic fights and screaming are heard within our walls, the abusive boyfriend's motorcycle is a pain. It goes tit for tat. I'm complying, are you?

If this doesn't work, and cops still pull the plug on us, then we'll move. Until then, I'm resolute that Nicole is irritated and a little crazy as of late. I'm being as neighborly as I can.

I raised renting a space up to Scotty and he said, "That makes me rethink everything." Meaning, he can't afford a space. We're paying his way in the band, he can't pay $50 plus for a space. He'd leave. Fuck, the whole band would!

WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!?!?! I JUST WANT PATCH TO WORRRRRRRK!!!!!! FUCK!!!! I've helped out everyone else, why can't my own fucking band work?! So frustrating and disheartening.

Beck -- "Truckdrivin' Neighbors Downstairs (Yellow Sweat)"

Shitter Was Full

In honor of the Secret Santa event at Miniapple tonight, a scene from one of my favorite Christmas movies:



Duke Ellington & His Orchestra -- "The Mooche"

Fair Freedom

Do you remember the age old battle you used to have (if you had it at all) with your K-12 school teachers (if you went to K-12) regarding whether or not they could drink soda pop in front of you in the classroom? My school district had a not-so-major debate on the fairness of teachers drinking soda in front of students when students were not allowed to drink in the classroom. If students couldn't do it, why could the teachers?

Anytime an adult has food at Miniapple kids will ask "Why do you get that?" Even if it's fucking lunch time! You have a candybar or some little treat and they complain to the board of directors. I had a pizza in my hand . . . in the adult prep room . . . and a kid complained "Why do you get that pizza?!" A coworker remarked "Because it's adult pizza. You'd get sick."

You basically have to lie and say some bullshit adult/child differential sickness prevention to get them to shut up about the fact that you're hungry, you haven't had anything to eat, you've been watching kids all day and seeing if they don't choke on their food during lunch so you can't focus on your own food, and they have the audacity to complain about you eating in your own space.

I'm exaggerating my rant here, but I did want to bring up the notion of fairness in children. Right off the bat, little two year olds are questioning "Why?" when it comes to everyone getting an equal share. Early on, fairness equates to getting things, getting the same amount of food or playtime or toys. Kids will freak out if you don't give them an equal amount. Joey got more, I'll raise hell.

This fairness aspect is very Western. The Nurture aspect of Nature vs. Nurture hits hard early with Western children. I imagine Eastern children to be content, or learning to be content, with getting what they get and not putting up a fit if they get less than someone else. We teach that, but we do stress fairness as well. We still say "You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit!" All the kids at the school know that about as much as they know the ABC song. Every child recites it from time to time.

As you get older, of course, you start into ethics and morals. The fairness within the judicial system, etc. If a man robs a drug store because he can't afford medicine for his ailing wife, who will surely die, should he go to jail if he's caught? Most children will say "Yes". Most adults will say "No."

How about this? A man who is wrought with pedophilia, but is trying his damndest to keep it in check, goes to therapy to help deter him from his sexual urges toward children. Despite all of what he is seeking, he slips and ends up fondling a six year old's privates. The child's dad is told of what this man did and he gets sentenced to prison.

Is this okay so far? How about when you think of the notion that this man will be labeled as a "Child Fucker" in prison? Pedophiles get ripped apart in prison. A lot get beaten to death or caused extreme psychological pain. Horrible things.

If they survive prison, they are released to a society that hates them to no end. They are announced to the neighborhood of their presence. Their employers and coworkers all know what he did.

If this guy was trying to get help, slipped up . . . is all of this okay?

I think about stuff like this a lot. I have a little bit of empathy for some of these people and child abusers. People who slip up, mind you. The chronic abusers who thrive off of this should be punished and incarcerated and have their names tarnished by the society they sought to undermine. But for those who hate themselves . . . don't you feel they deserve help rather than hate?

Drugs. Liberals want to put drug users into rehab rather than jail. I do. There's no crime, except against yourself. Jail won't help.

What about abusers, murderers, robbers, etc.? It gets confusing. The scale of the crime and whatnot.

But still, anything dealing with children, the West is quick to kick them out of their society, their tribe. It's scary working with children every day, not because of the children, but because of the parents.

Here's something that I hope to God no one takes in the wrong way:

Most men, when having their penis touched in any way, be it by a book or someone sitting on their lap, will naturally become erect because of stimulation. It's like morning wood, it just happens. A lot of guys, after sitting down in class while in school, upon getting up to go to the next class will have an erection. We called it Book Hiding. It's not sexual, this shit happens.

A child sits on a guy's lap. Again, it's not sexual, it just happens. What if a parent picked their child up while their kid was on his lap and they happen to see a bulge sticking out of their pants? What if they go apeshit? What if this guy loses his job and has his name tarnished because of some faulty wiring induced by the human genome?

Society, and I'm mainly talking to liberals, here: you're not as open-armed as you might think. There's a lot of hypocrisy when it comes to equality and fairness. A smart mind thinks about the man robbing the drug store for his wife without any question of whether he should go to jail or not. Kids don't.

In the case of sexual crimes: adults tend to think a lot like kids in this matter. "Send them to jail!"

Something to think about, from a normal, level headed guy who works with children. Calm down a little.

Now granted, I'd rather a Level 1 Sex Offender not move next door to me and my family in the future. But if they do, I'll talk to them about their case and try to understand what happened. I'd then say what I'm comfortable having them do around my children and what I'm not comfortable with. I'd still offer a helping hand, be a friend.

We tend to say "These people are okay but these people aren't!" Yes, even the Equal Rights advocates. Every human being is hard wired to have prejudice against someone they are not comfortable with. Nurture helps keep this in check as you get older. It shows that our society doesn't "Nurture" true equality and rights like it constantly boasts in its rhetoric.

This is the true aspect of politics that pisses me off. Not wedge issues. They mean squat compared to the real nasty stuff. This gets into the psychology of the people, and I feel most people are pretty angry all of the time. It makes me a little upset. Fuels my art, I guess.

But still . . .

Pearl Jam -- "Do the Evolution"

Saline Measures

I've dabbled in Neti Pot here and there. This year I've had a chronic stuffy sinus system. I first did Neti in May. Today I started it up again, another means of trying to shake off an illness of some kind that has stayed since mid-October.

For those who don't know what Neti Pot is, it's not Marijuana related. It's not medicinal. It's basically a torture device version of Saline Solution.
It's a little pot you stick up your nose. You fill it with warm water and salt, tip your head as you stick the tip in your nose, and you have salt water basically go up one nostril and out the other. Sounds easy enough.

The first time I did it I thought I was going to die. This is why people hold their noses when they jump into a pool. Water rushes into your sinus cavities, and if you're not currently breathing out of your mouth you will definitely cough and swallow the water. Snot and mucus come gooping out of every facial orifice. Your face will look akin to the Snorkel Face, where the mouth is pushed out in a fish-like manner by the snorkel mask. The prettiest face on the planet will be void of beauty by the Snorkel Face, and the Neti Pot, for that matter.

I started to get the hang of it on my second try. The fourth time Taylor came in on me doing it and stopped. "What the hell are you doing?" With a nose full of water and snot, I managed "Neta Pot. Et clens da nohsd." "Fucking weeeeirrrd. It looks like torture."

At first it is. Currently, I'm basking in a cleaner feeling nose. It hasn't been vacated of overabundant snot, but it's refreshing.

Oh, and you have to make sure that you bend your head down between your knees after you're done, or else you'll retain water in your upper sinuses. Days later you could be in public and bend down to pick up something from the ground and water will spontaneously spill out of your nose. It's kind of embarrassing but funny. I had it happen to me on the playground at Miniapple in the sandbox. I bent to pick up a shovel and water spilled out of my nose. The kids stared in horror as I just laughed and waited for the dripping to stop.

I recommend the Neti Pot. It might do ye some gud.

Tool -- "The Pot"

Kinda Like Suicide

Patch's second live rehearsal took place today.

It was four instead of five. This worked to our advantage today, as we got down to meticulous details and nitpicking. It'll be easier to get the fifth up to speed one on one for what we're currently delving into.

One of the more interesting notes: all my life, and maybe this is my insecurity talking, my initial ideas for music and performance have always been met with opposition or a scoffing look. After I show people what I want to do by a recording or through working out a project, then people tend to dig the work. Not all the time, but usually.

Today, at the tail end of the rehearsal, we did our first collaborative work: a Typosgraphy intro for the live show. I was wrestling with whether or not it would be strictly drums and vocals or if guitar and bass should join in on the fun. The band, now immersed within my head and the world of Patch and its vision, is becoming very vocal on what they like and don't like. We have constructive discussions on the work.

Adri left to hunt and gather by the time we really got down to brass tacts with the intro. Scotty, Greg and I put our heads together to come up with a buildup that wouldn't spill the beans on the hugeness of the actual Typosgraphy song. But it needed to be a buildup full of intensity. Initially, they scoffed at the idea. I scatted the song (that never goes over well, in every situation, doing the entire song by mouth makes the idea even shittier. But what else am I going to do other than record an entire fucking demo?) and they paused afterward, collecting thoughts. "I . . . uh . . . I don't know, man." Me: "Just try it out. See how it goes."

By this time Adri was "Alright, I'm out!" Never introduce ideas at the end of a long rehearsal. The rest of us pushed on despite my mistake. I said to Scotty, "Come up with developments. A new layer, each one more busy than the last." He came up with five, he suggested a pause at the end of the song. We played through a couple times.

I thought that the developments with snare were too short. I wanted more. So I said, "Four developments. Nix one of the tom developments. Two toms, two snare. I'll point when you go to the next one." We ran through it, we liked it.

I asked, "Do you guys think we need any sort of electronic ambience?"

Both said, "Yeah, I'd like that."

I said, "A low tone that could fluctuate between straight sine and modulated -- GASP! 'In Hopes'--"

Greg interrupted: "I was just going to suggest that!"

The beginning of "In Hopes to Mend" has a low rounded sine tone from Greg's MicroKorg that's hypnotic and inviting, interspersed with granular interference from Greg's Kaoss Pad. Unfortunately, the Kaoss Pad is fucking up currently. Voices don't put out any sound, others put out too much sound. The volume on a power mixer for a PA system could be .1db up from absolute zero and drum loops could blast the speaker's high frequencies out to high heaven (which is exactly what happened last month. That PA speaker is in the shop as I type.). So we need to make a voice on the MicroKorg that can have fluctuating modulation accessed by a modulation wheel.

We started making the voice from scratch, but I needed to get to a Mastering session with Schuyler in a half hour. We passed on that and ran the idea one more time. We loved it. We were all smiling in unison, glints in our eyes. It'll be a good opener, I think . . .

The direction we're going in seems to be pretty fruitful.

Soundgarden -- "Like Suicide"

Smokey and the McMuffin

I looked at the time. 10:09am. The sweet sense joining of taste and smell with the promise of faux wakefulness was calling. I thought. In need, I thought.

Coffee. Food would be good, too.

Coffee and a Sausage McMuffin. A number 3 breakfast meal. It sounded right. It sounded pure.

I tied my shoes whilst donning my pajamas. I ventured out into the cold ("Dammit, my name's not Robert!"). Yes, blog and song writing, fueled by the fires of McCafe. Dammit . . . it was perfect.

I looked at the time. 10:16. Fourteen minutes left on the breakfast menu. Thoughts of "Big Daddy" permeated my skull.



It was a race against time. I didn't want to be in the same disappointed shoes I've come to loathe time and time again as I walked up to the counter as they rotated the menu. "Do you by any chance have any leftover McMuffins of any sort?" "No sir, we've moved on to lunch, now."

Which begs the question: why can't McDonald's have an anytime breakfast menu? They know the specialness of their breakfast, the secret lust of biscuits and sausage, hashbrown sticks and coffee/orange juice. 10:30 is too early to stop breakfast. All I'm asking is for a little bit of a grace period, much like landlords and rent. Yeah, the first of the month is when the rent's due, but it's not technically a problem until the 5th. Why can't breakfast "stop" at 10:30, but be available for any latecomers until 11:30 or 12:00? Or, stop breakfast at actual lunch time, which is 11:30. 10:30 for lunch, are you kidding me?! Yeah, for old people, but your young adults are getting up on the weekend at that time, man. Brunch is the new breakfast. And if I happen to be on a lunch break at that time, fuck, I wouldn't mind having breakfast for lunch. Breakfast food is more awesome than lunch food, anyway. Why McDonald's, why?

This stream of consciousness clouded my skull as I traversed the slick, icy streets of Northeast. I looked at my gas. Way below E. DAMN! Look at the phone for the time. DAMN! 10:23. I stopped for gas.

It was like Smokey and the Bandit, cat and mouse, a race against time that became ever more seminal with each passing second. I ran to put the nozzle into my fuel tank. The pump stopped shortly after I put it into the automatic shut off mode. No. NO! Time: 10:25. Damn the automatic, go manual, you fool! Press!!!! $20 worth. GO! Yeah, good thinking, no receipt. Drive off. 10:26. DRIVE!!!

Round the corner into the Quarry area. Golden Arches on the horizon. The sweet aroma of plastic-like buns and french fries entered my nose. Don't taunt me with your lunch, you Siren! I crave biscuit.

I cut someone off in the other lane, plowed into the drive-through and ordered a number 3, hoping I wouldn't be met with a lunch number 3. A Sausage McMuffin. Lord, I could taste it already. McCafe as well.

I ordered at 10:29. I prayed.

I got to the pick up window. They handed me my food. I looked into the bag.

SWEET HEAVENLY BLISS I GOT A SAUSAGE MCMUFFIN!!!

I drove home in a fit of happiness. I sang a song of wanting to eat pure grease.

I parked, entered my home. I unwrapped my McMuffin, sipped my coffee. Turned on YouTube to watch One Day as a Lion, and bit into my sandwich.

Something wasn't right. Something was missing. I looked.

THEY FORGOT TO PUT THE SAUSAGE ON THE SANDWICH!!!!!

The goddamn pursuee got away . . .



Creedence Clearwater Revival -- "Commotion"