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Entry date: 11-7-2023 – Splendid Things and Other Things – Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

Happy birthday to Ben. This one is kind of special for me because Ben and I got to play music together a couple of weeks ago when Living Room Collective played. I’ve always celebrated this day either with him or for him. Something about the whole “11/7”-ness of the date made me a little jealous. Such a lucky sounding date.

Hopefully, this day finds Ben doing something he enjoys, getting spoiled by Maria, and more than anything, being happy. This is a good thing, being happy, and I know that Ben understands and appreciates it. Here’s to us getting to make music together for a good long time. There is lots for Living Room Collective to do.


Yesterday was a one of those days that made me want to get the fuck out of the classroom. Cocaine Baby is trying, I think, to drive me insane. He just decides at some point, each day, to give me that look that says, “Fuck you, man. Fuck you.”

It’s starting to impact the way I talk to the rest of the students. I have no patience for a bit after I get that “Fuck you” look from Cocaine Baby. It’s just gone. Yesterday we had a lot of time where I didn’t want to hear any nine or ten-year-old voices at all. It sucks.

Each day, during our Ducey-mandated moment of silence, I ask the universe for patience and for a good day. This morning I’m going for a double helping of both. I don’t know how to help him and I’m starting to believe that even if I did know, he doesn’t want to be helped. He’s a little Joker waiting to happen. He wants to watch the world burn.

He probably will end up being a Beach Boys fan.


I have to write about a band that is so hard to define later tonight. I’m digging a big trench in my brain and I’m preparing to just throw myself in and get all dirty and nasty and hammer it out. What will I say? We had a rad interview…but again, what do I say? I wish I could just really go into a first-person rant about how amazing I think these guys are but New Times kind of frowns on doing those too often.

It’s almost ten years that I’ve been contributing to New Times, too. It’s wild to think about. I wish I would have started doing this earlier. I just didn’t know that I could do it until they asked me.


Michael wrote some really cool words about The Father Figures on his page. It’s made me want to really think about how I want to continue telling that story. I’ll get back to it, I promise. So many stories to tell, but I have to work and pay bills and such. If I could just write all the time I could get them all out in a timely fashion.

Lately, The Trees are calling to me, too. I have ideas to flesh out. UGGGGGH. Just need to win the lottery or sell a screenplay (if I wrote them) or something. This is a morning for bitching and moaning.



See you tomorrow.

Me, Michael, Ben, and Michael by Dolly. Thank you, Dolly.

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