'nix Update
I know it has been a few days since I've last posted. This is a result of several factors, which include a very bored sister and a very bored Jon. My sleep schedule has also been haphazard. A tired Jon does not blog. A tired Jon looks at the white walls of his parent's house and frets that they are closing in and that he will soon perish of utter ennui. That being said, it is quite dull here. I don't know how long this entry will be because I am racing against my mother. Three days of constant pestering have finally broken her. She will take me to downtown Phoenix.
I like knowing the area in which I live. It makes me feel comfortable to have a locus in my life. Within weeks of moving to a new place, I will know the location of several major points of interest and at least three different ways to get there. Anyone who knows me will agree. I will also know some hole-in-the-wall places that many locals have yet to discover. This is one of my few neurotics. I like knowing where things are. Because I do not have any mode of transportation, and because none will be given to me because, and I quote, I have "...crashed every vehicle you've ever owned, from bicycle to motorcycle," which is an utter lie because I did not crash my truck (the two deer don't count), nor have I crashed my Sable and the motorcycle that I currently do not have, I am quite trapped in my sleepy red-neck town.
Yeah. Everything around here is redneck, including the metropolis of Phoenix. Apparently there are two constants in this area: rednecks, and geriatrics. Between Surprise and Phoenix are two Sun Cities. Sun Cities are where old people go to die, but want their own homes rather than their own apartment in some ramshackle nursing hell-place. To be fair, Sun City is a nice retirement association. If I ever make it to "old," I would not mind living in a Sun City. My grandparents currently meander about a very nice Sun City home. But, the fact of the matter is, most of the residents of Sun City are simply geriatrics who drive slow while confused. I'm told they have a particular taste for eating motorcycles and I am admonished, often while close to tears, to not get a motorcycle because the geriatrics will get me. I am torn between laughing and jumping under the bed from fright of the geriatric bogeymen with their motorcycle lust.
As far as Redneck goes, I suppose I can live with them. Most of the automobiles around here are some form of pick-up truck. Many of the pick-up trucks have been modified to give them fatter tired. The trucks are too fucking clean to have been used off-road, so I'm assuming that this is a form of redneck bling. Now, I'm as far from redneck as a pasty-assed Jew from the city gets, but I can hang with my brothers, yo. I think that if enough drink were stuck in me, I would even schtup (fuck) their women, although it probably would take quite a bit of booze for me to jump the bad-teeth, stringy-tit obstacle.
Aside from rednecks, geriatrics, and other assorted worries, Phoenix is quite inescapably dull. There seems to be no nightlife, no underground music scene, and no mad, mad people driven by the bomp-bop of life. I have desperately been on the hunt for anything that resembles nightlife. The last time I was here, I visited two bars. One was a local redneck dive bar that featured big-yet-low-slung titted waitresses with bad teeth, and truckers attempting to do karaoke. It was strangely scary. The second bar was a bit younger, and featured wiggas attempting to rap to Eminem. Really. This is the local scene. I am told that there is a Latin Discotheque in a town called El Mirage, but I am forbidden to go there by my mother for fear of her car being jacked. I was tempted to ask her if the little brown people were out to get her but I have pushed my luck too much these days.
My sister's friends came in for our Chanukkah party. They are quite gay. Normally their sexuality wouldn't be an issue, but all of the homosexuals I've known, and I've known quite a bit (a-la Gallaudet), are quite intimate with the nightlife. I took it upon myself to pester them in order to find out any kind of information that would be relevant. I found out the following things: there is no nightlife, there is a lot of titty bars, there's not much here but rednecks and geriatrics, all the bars close at 1am, but a new law lets them close at 2am. Last night, I decided to quiz my sister as well. I mean, she has been living here for at least four months. Were I living in a location for four months, I'd know where almost everything was. Unfortunately, my sister is not me and she only knows the location of a few record stores. But, she did tell me that most of the people our age, who live in the Phoenix, marry at 18 and pop a few fuckers out by 22 and 24 (our respective ages).
Well, fuck me. I've just moved to a larger, warmer version of Bloomington-Normal. Out of sheer desperation, I turned to the Internet in search of something that resembled a dance club. True to my sister's friends' warning, there's not much here but titty-bars. I've nothing against titty-bars, but I do prefer to touch rather than watch, and I'm very much a dancer who needs to get his fucking groove on otherwise people get hurt. Capice? And, what the fuck is it with people getting married and popping kids out so early? Is life so threatening that they feel the need to end it so soon? I bet they all vote republican too, and attempt to blither about family values and morality. Kids, don't talk to me about those issues until you've managed to live something that resembles a life. Not that my drinking and whoring are the best indicators of life, but I firmly believe that true life cannot be experienced under the boundaries of married and familial hell.
So, my mother's taking me to Phoenix today. She's telling me that it resembles a suburban downtown, but I am convinced that Phoenix will somehow resemble Chicago. I will go there and discover a hidden light-rail system (there isn't any), and a bunch of nifty neighborhoods that resemble Wriglyville, Wicker Park, China Town, and others (there aren't any), and everything will be happy-dory, peachy-keen.
Fuck. I'm delusional and won't last more than a year here before I scatter to California.
I like knowing the area in which I live. It makes me feel comfortable to have a locus in my life. Within weeks of moving to a new place, I will know the location of several major points of interest and at least three different ways to get there. Anyone who knows me will agree. I will also know some hole-in-the-wall places that many locals have yet to discover. This is one of my few neurotics. I like knowing where things are. Because I do not have any mode of transportation, and because none will be given to me because, and I quote, I have "...crashed every vehicle you've ever owned, from bicycle to motorcycle," which is an utter lie because I did not crash my truck (the two deer don't count), nor have I crashed my Sable and the motorcycle that I currently do not have, I am quite trapped in my sleepy red-neck town.
Yeah. Everything around here is redneck, including the metropolis of Phoenix. Apparently there are two constants in this area: rednecks, and geriatrics. Between Surprise and Phoenix are two Sun Cities. Sun Cities are where old people go to die, but want their own homes rather than their own apartment in some ramshackle nursing hell-place. To be fair, Sun City is a nice retirement association. If I ever make it to "old," I would not mind living in a Sun City. My grandparents currently meander about a very nice Sun City home. But, the fact of the matter is, most of the residents of Sun City are simply geriatrics who drive slow while confused. I'm told they have a particular taste for eating motorcycles and I am admonished, often while close to tears, to not get a motorcycle because the geriatrics will get me. I am torn between laughing and jumping under the bed from fright of the geriatric bogeymen with their motorcycle lust.
As far as Redneck goes, I suppose I can live with them. Most of the automobiles around here are some form of pick-up truck. Many of the pick-up trucks have been modified to give them fatter tired. The trucks are too fucking clean to have been used off-road, so I'm assuming that this is a form of redneck bling. Now, I'm as far from redneck as a pasty-assed Jew from the city gets, but I can hang with my brothers, yo. I think that if enough drink were stuck in me, I would even schtup (fuck) their women, although it probably would take quite a bit of booze for me to jump the bad-teeth, stringy-tit obstacle.
Aside from rednecks, geriatrics, and other assorted worries, Phoenix is quite inescapably dull. There seems to be no nightlife, no underground music scene, and no mad, mad people driven by the bomp-bop of life. I have desperately been on the hunt for anything that resembles nightlife. The last time I was here, I visited two bars. One was a local redneck dive bar that featured big-yet-low-slung titted waitresses with bad teeth, and truckers attempting to do karaoke. It was strangely scary. The second bar was a bit younger, and featured wiggas attempting to rap to Eminem. Really. This is the local scene. I am told that there is a Latin Discotheque in a town called El Mirage, but I am forbidden to go there by my mother for fear of her car being jacked. I was tempted to ask her if the little brown people were out to get her but I have pushed my luck too much these days.
My sister's friends came in for our Chanukkah party. They are quite gay. Normally their sexuality wouldn't be an issue, but all of the homosexuals I've known, and I've known quite a bit (a-la Gallaudet), are quite intimate with the nightlife. I took it upon myself to pester them in order to find out any kind of information that would be relevant. I found out the following things: there is no nightlife, there is a lot of titty bars, there's not much here but rednecks and geriatrics, all the bars close at 1am, but a new law lets them close at 2am. Last night, I decided to quiz my sister as well. I mean, she has been living here for at least four months. Were I living in a location for four months, I'd know where almost everything was. Unfortunately, my sister is not me and she only knows the location of a few record stores. But, she did tell me that most of the people our age, who live in the Phoenix, marry at 18 and pop a few fuckers out by 22 and 24 (our respective ages).
Well, fuck me. I've just moved to a larger, warmer version of Bloomington-Normal. Out of sheer desperation, I turned to the Internet in search of something that resembled a dance club. True to my sister's friends' warning, there's not much here but titty-bars. I've nothing against titty-bars, but I do prefer to touch rather than watch, and I'm very much a dancer who needs to get his fucking groove on otherwise people get hurt. Capice? And, what the fuck is it with people getting married and popping kids out so early? Is life so threatening that they feel the need to end it so soon? I bet they all vote republican too, and attempt to blither about family values and morality. Kids, don't talk to me about those issues until you've managed to live something that resembles a life. Not that my drinking and whoring are the best indicators of life, but I firmly believe that true life cannot be experienced under the boundaries of married and familial hell.
So, my mother's taking me to Phoenix today. She's telling me that it resembles a suburban downtown, but I am convinced that Phoenix will somehow resemble Chicago. I will go there and discover a hidden light-rail system (there isn't any), and a bunch of nifty neighborhoods that resemble Wriglyville, Wicker Park, China Town, and others (there aren't any), and everything will be happy-dory, peachy-keen.
Fuck. I'm delusional and won't last more than a year here before I scatter to California.
posted by Jon at 7:47 AM
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