Evergreen

It was eerily similar. The phone call that let me know that one of my grandparents was put in the hospital. It was my Maw Maw this time. She's been sick as hell for a while now. But instead of frantically working on a 15 page paper about the Vietnam War and pulling an all-nighter, I was getting drunk and watching the Alabama-Mississippi State game.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone pounding away at my door and windows. I was sick with a cold, miserable with a hangover, and in no mood to get out of bed. I did, I put on a shirt, and answered the door. It was Morgan. What the fuck was he doing banging on my door at 8 in the morning? Some people use Sundays to sleep away hangovers. That's why they're there. He told me to call my brother. Apparently, he had been trying to call me all morning. The battery on my phone sucks more dick than a Jersey whore. When I stumbled in, I didn't bother to turn it back on. I just plugged it up and passed out. I turned it back on and once again, it was eerily similar. Missed calls and voicemails from my mom and sister. Text messages from my brother and sister. I knew what had happened. This is exactly how it played out when my Paw Paw died. I called my mom and she told me that Maw Maw died that morning (Sunday). I kept calm on the phone. As soon as I told Momma bye, I threw my phone across my bedroom, punched my wall, shouted the word fuck, and proceeded to sit on my bed and cry. Morgan sat there with me until I calmed down.

No one would admit it, but I think everyone in my family knew that this might happen this year. I mean, Maw Maw had lung cancer since I was in high school. I've spent the past couple of summers taking her to and from doctor's appointments and this summer, to chemo treatments. I guess about a month and a half or so ago, two of my aunts put her into a nursing home. She was miserable there. I could tell the last time that I was home and went to see her. I knew she hated it.

At the funeral Tuesday, I didn't cry. That may seem bad, but in all honesty, it was like a burden had been lifted. My Maw Maw wasn't sick anymore. No more struggling to breathe. No more being laid up in a nursing home. No more shuffling back and forth to the doctor. She's okay now, and I'm okay with that. I saw my dad wipe away a couple of tears. That's always hard to watch.

The last couple of times that I've been home, I've found a new favorite way to go. Hit the Oneonta exit on 59 North and go north on Highway 231 until you turn onto Gallant Road. In the spring and this time of year, it's so nice. Roll the windows down, put on a good driving album, and enjoy the northeast Alabama scenery. It's just hills rolling and trees alongside the road. The reds and the golds are amazing to look at.

Last night was the second edition of the Revival Tour in Birmingham. I bought my ticket last week. I got to the venue two hours before the show started. I ate dinner there though, so it's not like I was being a creeper. They all came out and played together to start it off, like last year. Audra May did her thing next. I had never heard her before last night, but I am definitely a fan now. She has a beautiful voice and some very excellent songs. The Zydepunks were something else. Two accordion players, a drummer that only used a snare, kick, crash, and brushes, and songs sung in French. If you couldn't guess by the name, they were a mix of zydeco and punk. Good stuff. Jim Ward played next. I was really stoked for this one. It's THAT Jim Ward, from At the Drive-In and Sparta. He played a Sparta song, but mostly did the stuff from his solo release and from the album with his other band, Sleepercar. Frank Turner played after Jim. I just started listening to Frank Turner in September or October and was instantly hooked. I wrote about him on a previous post. Jon Snodgrass and Chad Price came out next and played some Drag the River songs, including my two favorites, Me and Joe Drove Out to California and Medicine. I have them on my iPod doing a Misfits song. Jon kept asking what the crowd wanted to hear. I kept shouting Astro Zombies. He said they didn't know Astro Zombies. I insisted that they did (I was kinda drunk). I look on my iPod when I left and it wasn't Astro Zombies. It was Hybrid Moments. I felt like a dick, but they were cool about it. Chuck played next and almost melted my face off. Then the rest of them came out and they played a few more together. It was really cool when they did Will the Circle be Unbroken and Revival Road.

After the show, I offered to buy Chuck, Frank, Jim, and Jon a drink. Frank and Jim took me up on it and we did Jager bombs together. Gross, I know, but it was cool. I sat and talked to Jim for a bit. He was a really nice guy. Jon Snodgrass never took me up on the drink offer. I offered to buy Chuck a shot (though I think he may have been the reason that the Bottletree ran out of Jameson last night) but instead, he insisted on buying me one as a way of saying thanks for coming to the show and being supportive. We sat and talked for a bit and much like I said about Tim Barry last year, Chuck Ragan is an amazingly nice and awesome person. I told him about Megan being disappointed that she couldn't be there this year (attending a show in Alabama when you live in Massachusetts now poses a slight problem) and he called and talked to her. I'm pretty sure I bugged the shit out of Chad Price, but he was cool and sat there and talked for a bit. I gave my regards and well wishes to all of them before I left, and some girl gave me her phone number and said that we should hang out. For real, I didn't ask for it. I didn't even intend on asking for it.

As I was leaving from eating at Al's (because there's not better place to go when you're drunk), a homeless man outside told me that he was hungry. It broke my heart when he started what he was saying with "I know I'm a black man, but..." I told him that I didn't care what color he was. He was human and he was hungry and that was all that mattered. I didn't have a huge amount of food left, but I had enough to get someone by for a while, and I gave it to him. Say what you want about the homeless. I don't know how they ended up in their situation, but they're still human. People scoff and treat them like they're less than human, but they're people with feelings like all of us. Churches offer to help them, but when a man is hungry the last thing on his mind is someone praying for him. He wants to eat.

Whoa! The view is awfully high up here from my soapbox. I'll move away from the subject of the homeless now. Actually, I think I'm gonna go to bed. I'm tired and I have an awful headache and I have to work at 11:15. I couldn't find a video for the song that I'm leaving you with, mainly because when you search The Weight on Youtube, you don't get the kickass alt-country band from Brooklyn by way of Athens, Georgia at all. You just get The Band and a bunch of people covering The Band. Oh well.

Until next time, goodnight all.

	Joseph Plunket & The Weight - Evergreen .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

A letter to someone that I used to be close to

*For the most part, Shithead is the affectionate nickname that I have for my brother. This is not about him.

Dear Shithead,

I still remember when we were close. Hell, you were one of my best friends. I think about all of the times that we just rode around in my old car or your old truck doing absolutely nothing. Do you remember when you, the long hairs, and me packed into that truck to put out flyers promoting our shows? I do. We drove all over Etowah County putting up flyers where ever they would let us, and a few places that they wouldn't. Those were good times. Or what about when one of the Long hairs threw bottle rockets at a bunch of rednecks in Rainbow City and they all thought I did it and the Long hair never owned up to it? I remember that too. That was a fun couple of days, even though some people wanted to beat me retarded for something that I didn't actually do. Do you remember when you shot your mouth off and pissed off every other person in every other band in Gadsden way more that I thought I ever could and I still stood up for you?

But I also still remember when I began to get fed up with you. The "Hurricane Katrina Benefit" that we did at Wallace Hall, the show we did at the old Performing Arts to get the money to play some shitty battle of the bands that I objected to. You remember> It was like $75 to sign up and it was only me and Long hair that had to shell out the rest of what was needed. The money that we made from that show was someone how just your contribution. What about our last show when you decided that it would be better to go rock climbing or canoeing or whatever douchey thing you've gotten into. What about after our last show when you started that other band and suggested writing new lyrics to the songs that I had written, assuming th at I wouldn't notice? Or what about after the other Long hair moved away and you almost missed the show to go to some American Idol shit? Or the Habitat for Humanity "benefit" that we played in Montevallo? I'm cool with helping people, but that thing was a joke. They didn't even charge a cover or take up a donation. How about when I let you borrow my cymbals, cymbals that weren't even cheap. You gave the ride and crash cymbal back, but I never saw my $200 hi-hats ever again. Where are they?

The thing that really did it was a few weeks back when I called you asking if you wanted to hang out and you didn't even know who you were talking to on the phone. That didn't just piss me off. That broke my heart. I was genuinely disappointed and saddened.

Fuck you. I'm done. I'm not going to try to be a friend anymore. Fuck it. If you don't value what was once a great friendship, then why the fuck should I?

Drew

On another, not so bitter note, I'm really fucking stoked to be going home tomorrow. I've been anxious all week for Friday. I want to see my mom and dad and brothers (this includes my brother-in-law) and sister. I want to go to First Friday for the first time since July or August. I want to sit at Antonelli's and drink a couple of pitchers. I want to go to Jefferson's and eat some lemon pepper wings. I want to watch the Alabama game with my dad and hope that they beat LSU. I need to get out of Tuscaloosa and this is the perfect weekend to do so.

The video below, I'm going to see this guy in at Bottletree in Birmingham in a couple of weeks with Chuck Ragan, John Snodgrass (Armchair Martian, Drag the River), Chad Price(ALL, Drag the River), Jim Ward (At the Drive-In, Sparta), and Zydepunks. Revival Tour 2009. I'm disappointed that Tim Barry or Joey Cape won't be there, but oh well. Frank Turner is a badass.

49 cent Horndog

Live, from a small, wood-paneled one-bedroom apartment in West Alabama town that may or may not be known for college football, it's the ASSWIPE CHRONICLES!!!

That's right, ladies and genitalia. The Asswipe Chronicles studios have moved from the friendly confines of whichever computer is available in the Gorgas Library to the friendlier, and more private (which means I can also watch porn while I do this) confines of my apartment!

I have to say, with the exception of failing a math test, last week was a pretty good week. I saw someone that I haven't seen in over a year and a half, a punk rock band from Tennessee crashed on my floor, and had a really awesome Halloween.

I was sitting in a class last Tuesday and got a text message from my friend Chelsea. The last time I saw her, I was working at Sears and it was Easter (see above). Anyways, she said that she was going to be in Birmingham that night (her feller was playing a show) and asked if I wanted to come up. I probably had other things to do (like study) but figured Birmingham would be more enjoyable. What started out as me going to a show and hanging out for a few ended up me not getting back to Tuscaloosa until 4:30 in the morning. It was really awesome to sit there, drink a few beers, play some songs with PJ (her feller), and just hang out. Some random guy walked into the place that they were crashing (which was also the venue where they played, Greencup Books) and started walking around. PJ was gonna do something, not knowing who it was. He got me to follow him upstairs (Great idea: An unidentified person walks in to where you're staying, follow him and leave your girlfriend alone downstairs) where he realized the guy was a friend of his. We were sitting around talking and the guy was talking about Ashes Fall (does anyone remember how awful they were) and I chimed in with the comment "Fuck Ashes Fall. Those guys were dicks." The dude looks at me, looks at one of the dudes in PJ's band, starts laughing, and then lets me known that both of them were in Ashes Fall. They had to find out eventually. Seriously, every time they played in Gadsden, those guys were dicks (and by those guys I really just mean their singer). This night, however, two of them were really cool.

New drinking game: Everytime I put something in parenthesis, take a drink.

Thursday night, this band was playing at Egan's. They were from Memphis and called the Angel Sluts. Judging by the name, I knew they had to be good. I walked in right as they were starting their second set. A Clash cover, two Stooges covers, and a James Brown cover, along with their own songs and I was sold. They were asking anyone there for a place to crash. I gave them floor space. Six dudes, my tiny apartment. Apparently, my carpet was the best thing that they had slept on in a few days. They were really gracious, left early enough for me to get to work on time, and even gave me a shirt, cd, button, and sticker. I gave them an open invitation to my floor whenever they were in Tuscaloosa again.

How was your Halloween? I listened to the Misfits, A.F.I. (old of course) and various psychobilly bands all day. I went as a junkie. Pretty much, I dressed like I normally dress and put makeup under my eyes to look tired and some on my arm to look like track marks and bruising, and fake blood on my face to look like I pick at it. Oh yeah, and a trucker hat that said "Breathe if yer Horny". After a couple of parties and shit-talking the Chicago Cubs, I saw the "8th Best Misfits cover band in Tuscaloosa" (Honestly, I didn't know that seven others existed.) It was awesome. My friend Steve did the singing and Egan's was rowdy. I also had some girl wanting to come hang out, but she left with some other dude. Story of my life.

But the above-mentioned Halloween listening brings me to the main point of this rambling (as if it wasn't long enough already [drink up]), bands/genres that I'm not into near as much as my friends. We have similar tastes for the most part (asshole tend to congregate with similar assholes), but there are differences, and here they are in somewhat shitty detail.

A.F.I. - The worst part of my day is when I plug the FM adapter to my iPod before I drive somewhere. A.F.I. is the first thing listed on my iPod and automatically plays first if I wasn't already listening to something. It's a frantic race to either pause it or find something else to listen to before Davey Havok starts doing whatever he calls what he does with the words of "Fall Children". I used to really like A.F.I., but it got really old really fast and now it feels like a chore to listen to, and I can't listen to it for more than about ten minutes before I want to stab something into my ears.

Psychobilly - Flat top haircut? Check. Creepers? Check. Upright bass that's slapped to get that clicking noise? Check. An extensive collection of B-grade horror movies to write all of your songs about? Check. Sorry guys, I remember a couple of years ago when everyone was really into psychobilly for some reason, but my interest really died after that summer. Seriously. I hate the constant playing with a chorus pedal on (I'm looking your way, Tiger Army), people that can't use a Bigsby without making the song sound like shit (once again, I'm looking at you, Tiger Army), and singing about some really bad horror movie that was made in the 50s. And really, get a different haircut.

Social Distortion - Okay, not mentioned above, but I'm pretty sure I'm the least interested in Social Distortion out of everyone that I hang out with. I really like old Social D, when it was still hardcore and Mike Ness was still hitting the spike. They lost me on the blues-punk thing. It was cool for a while. Not so much anymore.

Alright, now I've probably pissed off most of my friends.

I should probably clean my apartment. I was just standing over my kitchen sink and it smelled like asshole. Really, it smells like an asshole. It was gross.

For anyone at home that gives a shit, I'm coming home Friday. Someone is covering my closing shift at work, and I haven't been home in a month. I think I'm gonna go to First Friday and go to the EYO concert Sunday. Let's grab a drink.

I did an open mic last night at Innisfree. It was great. I did the Lawrence Arms/Sundowner's "100 Resolutions" and Against Me!'s "Reinventing Axl Rose" and "Walking is Still Honest". After I did Walking is Still Honest, someone told me that I was scaring them. It made my night.