Showing posts with label walkabout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label walkabout. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Talent Show
By now, you should know as my frequent readers that my parents hit "The Village" and Broadway in the city for many years before me and my brothers were even born, so if you think you can top them in "art fag", don't. Don't even try it with them, or with me, for that matter. They were wayyy gayer with it, first. Trust, on that. I should know, because they bought the soundtrack albums with overly histrionic solos more fit for bad vocal stylings on pop culture "talent" shows than real singers with authentic chops. We've been over this before: it's that aggressive up-and-down warbling that goes "ohahoohhhoonnnannndohhhahhhon" long after it should have ended, popping "pop tart" vocal chords to give us instant headaches, but my parents are suckers for it, just like y'all with poorer musical tastes than me.
I should know, because I took serious music classes in college that developed my innately good interest in real sound by authentic musicians, and then I worked in a professional setting with it, which meant I took my act on the road and then walked it around town for many years. I know "good" from "bad" on an expert level, and that's that. I also know totally bullshit "diva" attitudes, because my version of the manic-depressive bulimic bipolar bisexual cheerleader stereotype was my ballet teacher in New City growing up, and she never failed to remind us to diet as children until it hurt, so we could have the dubious privilege of spending our formative years training among other gay kids with body image issues who wanted purely homocentric bitchiness in their social circles for many years, ones that self-patrolled one another by over-scrutinizing their bodies for overtly heterosexual body traits (like fully-developed breast tissue brought about by years of healthy eating combined with a great attitude), which meant, just like with the gay girl scouts, that I was utterly excluded from it as a peer group. Forever.
And just like I wrote before, I was totally fucking fine with that. Not my scene. And so, when those trite bitches in the gay troop decided that our horrible camp out should include gay skits, I knew it would suck, because none of them had the actual chops to go with artistry that mark the master's mindset from the amateur, even in childhood. Like the rest of my time with them, I knew beforehand that each and every thing they would do would suck badly, combined with my lack of control as a child with the brain of a ferociously bright werewolf who just knows exactly what will happen beforehand, and then it does, and I have to watch you do it. And then it happens.
This skit bullshit with the gay troop was like that. I was so horrified by the idea, that I had to walk around crying in the dark for awhile before I could even contemplate telling my mom what I already knew: these bitches are crazy. It was, again, one of the worst experiences of my life and my childhood. As I walked around dark woods that are native to me, I had never felt so out of my skin among nature in my entire life, and I knew that could only mean one thing: a really bad ending. Not for me, but for all of you, and I was powerless to stop it. I knew it was motivated by their bad taste, and I knew it was just another way to exclude me from it. I finally worked up the nerve to interrupt my mom having a bitchy coffee klatch with the other moms over-nighting at the campsite, and just like I predicted, she sucked, too.
She pushed me away, telling me that I had to do it for some stupid fucking badge I didn't need for me and my life, and that I had to seek out a group, ask if I could join them, and then do their stupid fucking skit poorly. If you're not a master artist, it's hard to explain how bad hiding your skills hurt, because you can physically feel it in your body, forced to imitate other brains that are much worse than yours, like pretending to be dumb, deaf, sick, and blind. I was, quite simply, stuck on a sinking ship, and I was the only one aware of what was actually happening. I took my time walking around the campsite again, to put off talking to some crazy fucking butch who would either die early or kill herself, and every nerve-ending in my body was attuned to it.
Finally, after lurking around the edges of one group, letting them gossip about me and my presence at the edges of their exclusionary circle, I made an approach upon a group of girls I'd spent some time observing from a safe distance. It hurt all over, but I'm forced into abusive situations all the time, and for me, it wasn't even the first few times, nor the last. I went up to a nasty-tempered, chubby, moon-faced girl with short hair, and made a move at her, by way of making conversation. They were already in stupid stage outfits, and she'd pushed a pillow and a pan under her flannel shirt, giving herself freckles and blacked-out teeth, presumably to play a male redneck role in some skit that both degraded the country and herself, while we were in the wilderness showcasing our outdoors skills. It was bafflingly bad.
"Hey!" I mustered up as much false confidence as I could muster, by pushing my way through the group to join their conversation made into a tight circle. "What's this?" I knocked on her padded stomach area to hear the hollow sound of a cooking pan, and she immediately bristled by jumping down my throat too quickly, which gave away her hand to the rest of the group gathered around. "G-d, Marie!" She whined, way too loudly. "How would you like someone coming up to you and punching you in the stomach?" Uh, good point, toothless queer kid. I guess I wouldn't like it, so fair enough. Anyway, I told them I was being forced by the parents to join their skit by reason of insanity, and it won enough support among them as a group that I was allowed to join, by the other girls. But I'd made my point, and for that reason alone, the rest of the night passed in a blur that I could now tolerate.
It sent them a very clear and distinct message in "healthy hetero female", which is my primary language: mess with me, queer kid, and I can hit harder than any girl you've never met before, gay, straight, or otherwise. In my culture, we are that brave and strong as a tribe, and the very first people to hit me were my own adult parents, and in the "right" mood that was way wrong, they may or may not pull their punches directed at me, even as a child. After them? My bigger, stronger brothers hurt me next. Around the fire, as I sat on a log watching the other kids perform, I distinctly remember flashing white teeth all around the fire, because in my heart, I knew I just won the biggest bravery award we have as a tribe, bitch or no butch. It didn't matter. I won. The rest of the night passed by smoothly for me, and I went to sleep in a group tent without further incident, because those bitches chose another target to prank during their manic night, fueled on sugar snacks they hid away in their camping gear. But, not me. No, not me. I actually slept a rather decent night's sleep, in comparison. Smoke that, c#nt.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Walkabouts
![]() |
| Mural, 5th Avenue |
![]() |
| Brooklyn Tile Supply |
![]() |
| Sinker and his walking partner |
In every culture the hero embarks upon a mythic quest, undergoing many tests of strengths and feats of ingenuity, from Point A to Point B. Though he may fail here and there, or even at the end ultimately, arriving at the destination with his self intact is the actual prize. Having learned the lessons from his travails in the form of experiences is the real riches, in lieu of securing that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, or the treasure chest filled with pirate booty.
![]() |
| Mural, 5th Avenue |
![]() |
| Baltic and 5th |
I've always walked to clear my head, or to enjoy nature, or simply to get from here to there. Walking does it for me more than any other form of movement. It is the original human way to travel, and we are designed to make such arduous journeys. Whenever I design a walk for myself, whatever happens to me between starting out and arriving is the ultimate goal.
![]() | |
| church spire |
![]() |
| Muslim Barbie |
I call them "adventures", and to me it's not really critical whether I have them in my hometown, or that I navigate the harder terrain of a far-off country with a foreign language, or that I finally reach the top of that mountain. The destination is important, but the journey is where all the best prizes are. You do that 20 times over, and you get it. You do it 2,000 times, and it enriches you that much faster.
![]() |
| Atlantic Avenue antique shop |
![]() |
| Building map |
For this walk, I set out for this years' homegrown literary festival, The Brooklyn Book Fair. We have an inordinate amount of actual literary types (and their equivalent wannabes), thanks to an artistic population with more geniuses per capita than any other American town, which makes for really great happenings. Most of us discovered this Brooklyn out of economic necessity, and we stay because we get it. We get this town. We are this town, and we helped make it what it is. Needless, there is so much to see that it is a treasure trove of experiences.
![]() |
| Atlantic Avenue boutique |
![]() |
| French slave ship |
![]() |
| Obama eats pizza |
![]() |
| Performance space |
I love the instantaneous quality of Instagram (as its' name implies), but not enough people are stepping up and discovering the work for themselves, so I thought I'd lay it out here, in one place for you to see, in the form of my journey to the book fair and back. I see new things all the time, and rediscover what is new among the old so that it never gets old. By happy coincidence, Fall is made for walking—no heavy sweats with hot, fetid-smelling, humid air hanging about. Let's go!
There's so much to see.
![]() |
| biker/hipster bar |
![]() |
| community garden |
![]() |
| The 5 dollar special |
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Greatest Hits
Globe Trekker has some of the coolest music ever made for T.V. It's one of those opening themes that immediately gets you pumped up for armchair travel. There's the awesome Native Trekker creating a circle around him that morphs into a spinning globe lit from within—a great sequence that encapsulates the change in perspective that composes the mindset of those who travel well. Ian is my favorite!
You must absorb the best lessons from your culture first, placing yourself firmly within your immediate surroundings with your feet flat on the ground, so that when you do extend yourself outward, you bring home with you wherever you go, never losing who you are because you carry it with you. The seasoned Trekker has simply set aside some time to explore and discover the world. It's the great Aboriginal concept of a "Walkabout", and it is a crucial piece of development for any one who is learning to spread their wings to fly. It's the nature of A Quest, that mythic transformation from a child (still afraid of the dark) to a young adult ready to see the world. Let's go!
Each program's theme is tailored to that episode, taking native instrumental elements and weaving it into the overall background music. As we progress towards a World Culture, reaching for that shared, shining Star Trek vision, we will never lose our local selves as we step forward into a united future. We are this world. See you out and about, be it here or there, near or far. Happy travels!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

















