Tuesday, August 28, 2007

tick fucking tock

My life is going to change radically in less than two weeks. It's one thing to move to Detroit on a romantic whim or roll from one neighborhood to the next like changing t-shirts; this is cross country and I don't know if I ever want to come back.

That was hard to write because I love Cleveland. It's a part of me and sometimes you don't recognize that fact until your about to sever the limb. I live in Rocky River right now and I love it too. Fuck me running, I may even go as far as to say I love Toledo and Columbus but that might be a sentimental feeling. Right now my heart is racing and my nose is running with allergies; the snot like one last bitter kiss goodbye.

A rather lovely episode of Anthony Bourdains Travel Channel show filmed in Clevo aired last night. A fun and informing sixty minutes (give or take) of some smart ass wing nuts walking around the city days after one of our more scenic (and BRUTAL) winter blasts. Harvey Pekar was along for the ride and Marky Ramone somehow became a resident without having to buy a run down double in Parma (he could always bunk with our own CJ and Aaron Ramone). Harkins suggested we tape this show for numerous re-watchings in Los Angeles. This morning, I think he is on to something.

Three more days in the strip club business and then I will devote my last week to loving my hometown. And I have to find a car too.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

One Month

I am moving to Los Angeles, California in about one month. It's no big surprise for some--I've been talking about it for years--but, for others, it might come as a shock. I've told almost no one. I guess I don't care for much hoopla about it. But then again, here I am telling the blog world.

Speaking of blogs. This one was originally supposed to be about the Cle music scene. The real agenda was to use this as a launching pad for a zine idea that Sebastian Wagner and I had been talking about doing for a long, long time. An alternative to the alternative (If Scene and Free Times can even be called that any longer). Or the anti-Pressure magazine... one that really gave a shit about what happens locally. Just like our band Southern Trespass, the zine became a causality of our drinking problems and general apathy. So I took it as my own and decided to use it, from time to time, as my own place to talk about how middle-age black women hit on me in the parking lots of super markets as they beg for change.

So what is to become of Deadtown Cleveland now that it's leader is off to have sex with movie starlets and take up a healthy heroin habit? Well, I thought that, in between orgies and lines of Colombian coke, I would keep up the writing habit (the only healthy one I have) and make this a sort of Clevelander vs. California blog. Us against the world, or better still, us trying to fit into the regular (ie non-Cleveland) world.

Wish me luck. If I am gone for more than one year... that will be a new record.