#fiveyeardiary

[scuffedgrannysblog]

Somebody bought it! After being the number one viewed item for yonks, it sold today and is winging its way to BC. #fiveyeardiary #secret #secretkeeper #etsyseller #etsysuccess #scuffedgranny (at Ottawa, Ontario) https://www.instagram.com/p/CP1CMALN7mu/?utm_medium=tumblr

[scuffedgrannysblog]

The most viewed and most recently favourited item in my Etsy shop is this five year diary, lockable with key at www.etsy.com/CA/shop/scuffedgranny #fiveyeardiary #etsyshopowner #diarywithkey #diary https://www.instagram.com/p/CPW835CD0kF/?utm_medium=tumblr

[fiveyeardiary]

A request

Hello friends.

I need to write. I used to do it quite a bit, but have slacked in the last couple of years due to the amount of time I spend in front of a computer at my (not even remotely creative) place of work.

If you have some space that you need to fill in a zine or blog, please contact me at fiveyeardiary at gmail dot com. I am open to taking a swing at any form of writing you are looking for.

If you don't have a zine or blog, feel free to submit a topic or question to my ask box here, and I will do my best to respond to it however I see fit.

Thank you all in advance.

[fiveyeardiary]

I didn't eat nearly enough empanadas.

Six Word Story - Mike Parsons - 1/1/14

[fiveyeardiary]

The Exacto Incident

This was written in the summer of 2008 for a friend's zine which never materialized. If I remember correctly, it was intended to be a collection of stories from the high school years of several people involved in the hardcore scene. I have only edited some minor errors in spelling and sentence structure. This is a true story, but names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.

One of the major disappointments of my 15th year in suburban Alabama was the discovery that Driver’s Ed. was a sham. We were only allowed to take the cars out one day a week, with the rest spent in the purgatory on earth known as study hall.  My time was spent in the classroom of Coach Harris, one of the few members of the Faculty at my high school that seemed to be loved by all students. He was a portly, funny guy who coached soccer and taught Drafting classes. I’d always heard that he had been in Vietnam when he was younger, but I never asked him about it.  Despite his routinely jovial nature when talking with us, he had this distant look about him when he was sitting in his office alone.  It was as if he flicked on some sort of personality switch with us, and turned it right back off whenever he retreated so we could all “study.”  Seeing that look always led me to believe that the ‘Nam rumors must have been true.  His happiness was genuine, but I got the feeling that there was another side of him that was just as real.

            Having Coach Harris run my study hall was a stroke of luck.  He essentially let us hang out, talk, and do whatever else we wanted as long as things didn't get out of hand.  I spent most of my time writing in a composition notebook since I only had one or two good friends in the class.  This always seemed to irritate Hunter, a particularly narrow minded classmate of mine.  He embodied every Alabama stereotype and then some: Wranglers, large belt buckle, Skoal, heavy accent (likely exaggerated for added acceptance from his peers), cowboy boots, Bocephus T-Shirt.  There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of these things. The difference is that Hunter was a complete asshole; a trait that knows no cultural boundaries. I don’t think I ever did anything to provoke Hunter.  He gave me shit for writing on a daily basis and would always make incredibly unfunny remarks about whatever band T-Shirt I might be wearing on any given day, my shaved head, or the collage of patches on my bright green backpack.  I generally ignored all of this until one afternoon when I felt that Hunter had finally crossed the line with me. 

I had been writing for most of the class period while everyone else was talking back and forth with Coach.  I looked up from my notebook and chimed in with something to add to the conversation out of nowhere. This must have irritated Hunter, because he started cutting into me pretty hard.  I can’t remember exactly what he said, or what the conversation was even about, and it doesn't matter now.  It wasn't anything new to me. I never saw the need to get into it with him since it would have just ended up with him and his friends beating me into the ground, but on this particular day, I'd had enough. I figured that I’d better say something since I had just been eviscerated in front of the entire classroom. I started with the general “Listen asshole” type of talk, but Coach Harris cut me off by doing something that no words from my mouth could have topped: He reached for a large Exacto Knife from one of the drafting tables, pushed the blade out all the way, and threw it directly at Hunter. Hunter ducked under his desk quickly, and the knife fell to the floor behind him. He immediately got up and bolted for the door, where he was met by Coach Harris, who was now wielding a broom. Hunter made it a few feet out of the doorway before Coach got in front of him and told him to get back into the classroom as he held the broom as if it were a baseball bat. Needless to say, I was completely floored. I had never seen any Coach, Teacher, Guidance Counselor, or Principal do anything that crazy, even when they were physically breaking up one of the many fights that happened throughout my public school career. Coach took Hunter into his office.  I have no idea what was said in there, but it must have been serious.  They both came back out completely silent.  The bell rang not long after, and I walked to my next class in a daze.

Nothing was said about the instance in normal conversation again for a long time.  I never spoke to Coach about it. I got the feeling that everyone kept their mouths shut because they didn't want to get Coach fired.  I know that’s why I kept mine closed. Hunter did the same; not only about the incident, but with me as well. He never spoke another word to me again.

    Coach Harris passed away sometime last year.  I didn't hear it through an old classmate or read his obituary…I stumbled across a Facebook group dedicated to his memory. I hated that I couldn't attend his funeral and was mad at myself for not keeping up with him after I graduated. I hadn't thought about the Exacto Incident in quite some time.   This guy basically put his career on the line to stick up for me, and I never even told him thanks. I like to think that maybe Coach knew where I was coming from, and based on the distant time he spent in his office, I am pretty sure that he did.  Perhaps he was trying to teach me the kind of lesson he wasn't allowed to verbalize; that there are certain times in life when talk is over and we all have to throw the proverbial Exacto Knife; that even the best of us can get pushed to points where all of our common sense goes out the window and we do things that we will regret after the fact.  There were a few other wild days that year in Driver’s Ed, but none of them ever held up to the Exacto Incident.   I think Coach Harris would have agreed. 

[fiveyeardiary]

The only way that Mumford and Sons and the Lumineers could sound more like suburban white people having sex in the missionary position: Releasing albums that are actual audio recordings of suburban white people having sex in the missionary position. 

[fiveyeardiary]

Meet me in the DJ Tent and we'll talk about Punk instead of dance

There has been a lot of talk online today re: Coachella selling out both weekends in roughly 24 hours. I'll add to this deluge and confess that I was let down when I found out for two reasons:

1) I was willing to make the trip to see The Stone Roses and Blur alone.

2) It's no mystery to my friends that I attend all kinds of live music events on a regular basis. Everything from basement punk shows to concerts in arenas. Music festival wise, I'm a little inexperienced. I've attended FYF Fest in Los Angeles and DeLuna Fest in Pensacola. Both of those are pretty different in terms of setting and type of acts that typically play, but they are both dwarfed by the monsters that are Coachella and Bonnaroo. I've never camped out for several days, not showered, come close to suffering heatstroke, or been surrounded by dorks that are just at the $300-$500 ticket event to party...but I want to give it a shot. My idea was to attend Coachella, watch the Stone Roses/Blur/the few other bands I enjoy that are playing that I've yet to see live and then spend the rest of my time there throwing myself to the wolves. Facing the genres of music I routinely ignore and/or shit on, and then write about it. I thought "30 YEAR OLD STRAIGHT EDGE DUDE ATTENDS GIANT MUSIC FESTIVAL AND HANGS OUT WITH BODY PAINTED DUBSTEP ENTHUSIASTS" would be something interesting to submit to a magazine or website. I was pretty excited about doing it.

However, that doesn't look like it will happen (unless you would like to commission me to do so, plethora of magazine and website editors that are definitely reading this right now).  While this is a let down, I'm at least happy that my brain was functioning somewhat creatively over the past couple of weeks. It's been a while.

[fiveyeardiary]

My Best of 2012 Lists

Long:

Frank Ocean - channel orange & Title Fight - Floral Green are tied for my LP of the year. 

Leonard Cohen - Old Ideas

Spiritualized - Sweet Heart, Sweet Light

Cloud Nothings - Attack on Memory

Waxahatchee - American Weekend

Mindset - Leave No Doubt

Kendrick Lamar - good kid, m.A.A.d city

Fiona Apple - Idler Wheel...

Merchandise - Children of Desire

Wild Nothing - Nocturne

How To Dress Well - Total Loss

Brother Hawk - Affairs of Plain Living

Cat Power - Sun

Japandroids - Celebration Rock (though this lost a few points for their fiasco of a "set" in Birmingham)

The Men - Open Your Heart

Short:

World War 4 - Demo

Give - Voodoo Leather

Blacklisted - So, You Are A Magician?

Burial - Kindred

Self Defense Family - Self Immolation Family b/w World Virgins

Out Crowd - Just Us

Other:

Quicksand live @ FYF Fest - Los Angeles, CA

Chain of Strength live @ Acheron - Brooklyn, NY

Springsteen live @ Philips Arena - Atlanta, GA

Jeff Mangum live @ Variety Playhouse - Atlanta, GA

Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds live @ Tabernacle - Atlanta, GA

Neil Young & Crazy Horse live @ Tuscaloosa Amphitheater - Tuscaloosa, AL

Jack White live @ Workplay Theater - Birmingham, AL

Torche basement show - Birmingham, AL

Pearl Jam / Bob Mould live @ DeLuna Fest - Pensacola, FL

My entire trip to New Orleans, LA in Jan '12 - Alabama / LSU National Title game. (Even though I didn't get to attend the game itself, this atmosphere will probably never be duplicated. Unreal.)

Alabama / UGA SEC Championship game @ Georgia Dome - Atlanta, GA

Toddy Cold Brew Coffee system

Grantland.com

Saw's Soul Kitchen - Avondale, AL

Holeman and Finch - Atlanta, GA

Carmine's Pizza - Brooklyn, NY

The Old Place - Los Angeles, CA

All books released by Soul Jazz in London

The Master

Django Unchained