Sunday, August 26, 2007

Bloody Hell this took to long to write.

Travis Arnold
26 August 2007UNI. 100

So as seeing this is assignment was confusing and I tried many ways of going around, I tried a letter, I tried stream of consciousness and the best I could come up was this interview format. Hopefully this does justice to the assignment and myself too.

“Mr. Arnold, why don't you start today by describing yourself. Then we can go from there.”

“So in eighteen years on this planet there are few things that I am sure of. I can count on my family and close friends. I can say for certain that I am special, I'd have to be to survive. How many people do you know who were born three months premature? By the time I was thirteen years old my medical file was more extensive then the average healthy male. Childhood was normal in the classroom and on the playing field, Well except for getting picked on.”

“Picked on, when you say picked on do you mean verbal abuse, taunting its ilk, or physical? Punching and kicking?

“Verbally, there was never any beating thrown around, not in school at least in regards to me. In the neighborhood, that was different. As we got older once every couple of weeks, Josh and I would thrown down in his yard. It would start by slinging our book bags at each other. Then progress to grappling with each other, more wrestling then anything else. It stopped if blood was drawn, more to keep it contained at scratches. It never escalated, yet with in that, it did get bad. Well if by bad we were all tired and annoyed at each other.

“So it was just scrapes after school to blow off steam?”

“Correct. We all hung around, but Rob was two years ahead, starting to drift apart going on dates. Which we thought was funny, stupid but funny. Yeah and now look at us all. Ah to be young, young with video games. Seemed like all we did, video games and football. One year there was street hockey, but nah didn't last more then a summer.”

“Did you enjoy playing?”

“I was the kid who everyone lets play, because he was your friend. How do you think I felt? But did I have fun? Duh, who doesn't like running to some degree. I'll be the first to tell though, that I sucked. Absolutely rubbish. Given the ball, and told to run. Just another game of keep away. It sucked, I hated keep away. No one else ever lost the ball, it was always me. Make me run around and have a laugh.”

“Travis, would you say that you were happy?”

“Definitely happy, with out a doubt. This cynicism has only really come about since my parents divorce.-”

“Your parents are separated? How does that make you feel”

“Divorced.....duh, did I stutter? I said divorced did I not. And Dad got remarried a couple of months ago. Of course to say that everything was peachy would be a lie. I had to work very hard in most subjects, multiplication comes to mind- I was two weeks behind the class in learning my times tables, and you could forget division. My teacher would give me special assignments, until I got comfortable, and once I would get up to speed, money I was money. It still troubles me though, which does wonders for my confidence.

What about your friends? Did you ever had trouble there?

“I also had a hard time keeping friends. If I'm no good at sports, that pretty much means I'm screwed in the friend department. Actually let me back up, since I also had a problem meeting people in the first place. I'm relatively shy, which is not my outward appearance: one of singing and boisterous noise. Yet for all the singing I do, it hides the fact that I don't want to open up to people or even deal with people, unless I have throughly vetted them out and I like them.”
“Honestly I could not tell you when someone passes the test, or even what the test is, only that it is when I feel comfortable around them. I tend to not make many friends, or want to go out and meet people. Once I find my friends I tend to be very loyal. I had no problem driving at midnight to pick my friend up from a party; yes I was mad, but of course I would never be able to live with myself if something were to happen to him. What else is there to do? To me it was a clear cut choice.”

“Thank you for the long summary. Now I would like us to digress a bit. What are you interests? Do you like sports, play any?”

“I enjoy soccer, or as a good chunk calls it, football. I'm passionate about that. Love watching it at home, and am gutted that there is no place here that I can watch the matches. The only recourse is to to get on skype and talk to family, get updates. The skysports score centre on the Internet is useful beyond mention.”

“what soccer teams do you support then? Do you have a favorite one? Or can you not decide?”
“I support Hull City AFC, the mighty Tigers, as well as Liverpool FC. Chelsea is a close second. All three are teams in England with City playing in the Championship division(one lower then the top), Liverpool and Chelsea in the top division, Premier League. The 07/08 season started three weeks ago. Liverpool have gotten off to a good start, lying third in the table, and Chelsea is on top, with Manchester United in the middle, far off the top. What is possibly the best news is that City won 2-1 at home yesterday. Yeah tells you a lot doesn't it that last sentence? That I procrastinate yes. Thats the surface. Other then that I had a huge amount of writers block, been at my computer almost the whole day.”

“Just got up form a nap actually. Thats when the writers block broke, and I've been pecking away at the computer. Sports, you wanted to know about sports. Other then soccer I don't follow much, my fried is a Red Sox fan, so if They're playing I'll keep an ear tuned to that so I can talk to him about it. Baseball doesn't do much for me though.”

“As for playing sports, well thats kind of hard to do when your lungs don't work as advertised. Its not like you can send 'em back to the shop to get a new set. Even if you could, its not the pair, just one. Since I was born premature, they both formed but one struggles a bit, not as developed in capacity as I should. Plus I think there is some medical name wrong with them that I could never be bothered to learn about. Nothing serious, just keeps me from running a lot. I do enjoy a good informal five a side set up, now and again. Really though, I'm rubbish, no one would ever probably pick me. I just enjoy it, and really what else is there?”

“Is there anything else you think would be pursuant to our session? Else we can stop for the day and continue this at the next session?”

“Yeah I want to talk about music. How that can help unify people, and introduce people to each other, who wouldn't normally meet. I am open to music, but I really like punk. I'm a fan of the Casualties, along with hardcore punk band the Unseen. I enjoy singing and have no problem singing walking to class, or at any other time for that matter. Why should I not express myself, yeah I'll shut up during tests, or on planes, studying too Other then that no, I think we can be done for the day. I figure within the next couple of weeks there will be plenty of brain picking and questions galore.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Johnny Rumble:
Oh the Fun of Last Night

"Well he got on a train at a really young age/Ain't seen the sun since that fateful day/Got a on a train at the age of 18/You should have seen just what he seen"

Good Morning ev-er-y-one! It's Friday, August 24th, and I have to call the California Highway Patrol.

But that get explained later on down the post.

I like Thursdays. I didn't use to like them, but I like them now. I especialy love Thursday nights. I get to hang out with two bonnie lassies and drink beverages while winding down from a week of toil and drudergy (this week was no less fun), and have off the cuff the conversations about nothing at all. Much like an episode of Sienfeld gone horribly wrong.

"A long car train where there ain't no stops/Taking a ride but you can't get off"

The local coffeehouse where we usually meet has decided to shut down really early the past couple of weeks, and I was running late already. Meet at 6pm, I got there at 6:08. The place had already locked up and shut down with my friends still inside. Great start to a great night. After everyting was all sorted out, the concensus was to all drive down to "local" Starbucks and continue our trade of meaningless dribble. After a couple of friendly arguments about people territorial seats (VIVA LA REVOLUTION JESSE!), an itch started to develop about going and doing something. And if any of you have every lived in Marysville/Yuba City, there is nothing to do. One has to go north to Chico or south to Sacramento. Since we went south last week, we were going northbound on SR-99. In my car.

"Mainliner, mainliner screaming down the tracks/Once you get on board that mainline train/There ain't no coming back"

Anybody that has ever ridden with me, or even had to follow me, knows that I do have a perpetual problem with speeding. And we arn't talking 5 or 10 miles over either.

Katie: "Do you know where you need to go?"
Me: (looking in my rearview mirror) "Ah, shit..."
Katie: "Okay, what you want to do is......"
Me: "Naw, not that. Look behind us."

The only thing filling the backwindow at that point were flashing red and blue lights. A collective, yet wholly sympatheitc sigh filled the interior.
"Licence, insurance, and registration please...Do know why I pulled you over?...Do you know how fast you were going?...I clocked you a 82...the speed limit is 65...I'll be back in a bit with your citation."

Fuck. (Yes, Ataxia...go ahead and laugh.) I was lucky that he knocked it down to 80 mph, otherwise I'm pretty sure my bank account would have to cleaned out. There is more to this particular note, but I don't have all the answers I need right now, sooo...northward we go.

"You used up your friends used up your cash/Get on the train and man your gonna crash/Mainliner, mainliner screaming down the tracks"

I had never been to Chico before, so this trip was a first for me. I will never be the same again. The Thursday Night Market they have there is sort of a Farmers Market. Lots and lots of Hippie-type people were out. I kept humming to myself Scott McKenzies "San Francisco." We got there just as shops were starting to close up, so after walking up and down the length of it, we wandered over into the direction of The Naked Lounge. That wasn't a bad place at all. Kind of stank, but they had these bottled blueberry smoothies that I go gaagaa over. Stuff is soooo damn good. More wandering commenced back in the direction of the park.

"Well you lied to your friends about all your pain/Said that you'd never get on that train/Look for a distant town and now/You're never coming down from..."

Chico, as a rule, is filled with the weird, the crazy, and the exotic. I ran into all three at one point or another...

"DAMN....did you see the boobs on her? They must wiegh a ton...each!"

But, I ran more into the crazy. Like one particular guy. Longish knatty hair starting to become natural deadlocks, a short that more or less shredded and then tied back around him, with pants that must have been patched so many times, it made my own vest look brand-new. As he was passing us in the park, he stopped and looked at me for a long moment.

"Hi, Sarge."

My vest may be camo, but it's waaaay more patched up than that. NOBODY, and I mean nobody has ever confused it for the an actual BDU jacket since I got a hold of it. I blinked twice after he spoke to me.

"How's it going, solider?"

It was all I could say as continued is quest for whatever. About 10 minutes later he was back. Saying nothing at all, he stopped and gently placed a small black Bic lighter right next to me. I smiled at him and thanked him with out saying a word. He left to go lie in the grass. I ran.

Looking back, I should have taken the lighter with me, as I'm sure there was something going through his head of importance about the whole affair, but between him and the 50 other down-and-outs, I was bugging. I've delt with D-A-O's before, but never quite like these ones. They were a might bit frightening.

"I saw your mama just the other day/She said that you had passed away/The train derailed right off the track/And now we know you're never coming back from..."

Bee-lining straight out of the park, a place called The Underground loomed large. It was a record shop/sex shop. We shopped the records. I wasn't going anywhere near the back of the store. Nothing bought, but I did find a leather bikers jacket for $100. It was tempting for purchace, but I decided against it. And I decided against a record that I wanted. More money for the "citation."
Finally back at the car, and back in safe-haven is would seem, the rest of the night went fairly uneventfully. I did manage to tag myself in the right testacle, urinated in the woods, and a half-played "sex-point" game was played, but uneventful over all. If this is going to become a normal Thursday night, I honestly can't wait for next week.

"A long car train where there ain't no stops/Taking a ride but you can't get off/Mainliner, mainliner screaming down the tracks/Once you get on board that mainline train/There ain't no coming back/You used up your friends used up your cash/Get on the train and man your gonna crash/Mainliner, mainliner screaming down the tracks!"

Johnny Rumble

Text in orange written by: The Bruisers from the song "Mainliner" off the album Better Days

Saturday, August 18, 2007

The Leaving of Home

So the grand adventure starts now. I'm settled into my dorm, with my City flag hanging proudly above my desk. Parents have gone off home, and I'm left to my own devices. Tomorrow will be spent trying to watch Chelsea vs Liverpool, and once thats done I'll go around trying to find all my classes.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Johnny Rumble:

Saturday's come, football day is here
Today becomes a fresh start
New days on the line, reputation out in front
Lads at the pub liquor'd up on drinks
Two beers down with another 3 pints to drink

Soccer Hooligan, Football Warrior
Pipes and bricks may break your bones
But your reputation will stand forever

A fluid mass of muscles and mindsets
"Onward to victory!" chanting in the stadium
The firms pumped and ready of action
Cockney goals only feed our frenzy
Then down at the docks we'll fuck you up


Tangled masses of Stone Island, Burberry.
Flying boots, and crossed braces.
Swinging fists, hurled bottles, fights to last lifetimes
Pools of blood and a royal fuck up
Chavs going down to greet the boatman tonight


Beaten, bloody, bruised, the firms rep intact
Back to the abbey to have a few brews
Football Warrior, you survive tonight...


Johnny Rumble

Monday, August 13, 2007

Johnny Rumble:
Flatfoot 56 Videos

Yes...I rave about these guys. Probably more than I really should. But heres why I rave about them:

Oh yes.

Johnny Rumble

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Football Day

L I V E R P O O L F. C.
Villa looses at home. an own goal ~36 minutes into it. What luck, and they gave up possession for far too long,and Carragher should not have had the penalty against him. Bad luck that, he was just turning to run on the ball and it caught his arm.

BUT: STEVIE G's KICK, oh what a lovely kick it was. ABSOLUTELY CLASS. LOVELY KICK

C 'M O N Y O U H U L L

Hull seemed to have an alright game, a game they needed to (and should have)won. They should have taken the chances that they got. They must improve by next week. It is of course nice to see that they were able to bang away 2 goals, less so that they let in three...what was Myhill doing?


Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Ha Bloody Ha

Yep, summer of my Highshcool graduation is coming to a close. Not like I really did much, went to England, got drunk, went to Canada(no drinking), came home and started packing. In ten days I report down to Radford University, to start my next big adventure--- Life, or the bit known as University.

Oddly enough I'm looking forward to it. I can be on my own, and away from my sister. In between the learning process, I can talk to my cousins in England and watch football, plus all my other mates.

Oh, and hear are my ideas on the EPL: Chelsea or Liverpool to win the League with Man Utd in 3rd. Derby and Sunderland for the drop down to Championship, and West Ham too if they do get rid of Tevez. Sorry John.

Hopefully Hull Finishes the Championship at 10th place.


Monday, August 06, 2007

Johnny Rumble:
One Month

Two Weeks of Heaven:

I spent exactly two weeks exactly where I wanted to be. At Miss Ataxia's new(ish) house in Hampton, Virgina. Life honestly couldn't have been better. The moment I stepped into the baggage area, I was met by a very very happy girlfriend, and her watchful father. She wore the pink dress that I had so casually and flippantly denied did not exist in the package that was sent to her house from Angry, Young and Poor. To say that she was suprised would be an under statement.

When we got back to her home, activities never stopped. From going to Lowes to find wallpaint and wall samples, to traveling 6 hours north to the Wisp Ski Resort in Accident, Maryland, to doing nothing but playing Star Wars: Battlefront, to "bedtime activites," I was never bored out of skull. I was fortunatly also able to sew on some new patches I got. And able to mend all the holes that had accumulated into my beloved vest. Iron-on mending patches are a godsend.

However, as is said, all good things must come to an end. The last day in Virgina was one of the worst days of my life. I won't deny that cried softly in the middle of the airport. I couldn't even speak to the TSA agents without my voice doing the emotional cracking. It sucked. At the gate I sent a SMS message to Miss Ataxia saying, "I miss you too much. The cold air makes me shiver for your warmth." At least through the whole flight I was able to keep my mind pre-occupied with Dan Brown's Angels and Demons. What's sad is I was still cold when I got back to my own house.

It took until the next night for the full emotional impact to hit me. I bawled for an hour.

Two Weeks in Purgatory:

Michigan. Fifty years of marriage. The entire extended family. One crowded house. At least the beer was flowing.

It took the three (father, mother, and myself) of us three days to cross the country from Northern California to Detroit, Michigan. We stopped once in Salt Lake City, Utah. I started a new series called Night Watch (I highly recommend it). The first week (my mother contiued north to the Thumb.) was spent with my father's sister, Debbie and her husband Mark. I highly enjoyed the time I spent with them. Unfortunatly, the whole week was dragged through the mud when outcome of spending time with my Fathers parents played itself out.

To put it in laymen's terms, according to my grandmother, I'm fat and need to go to a fat camp, Miss Ataxia is also fat (Grandmother has never met the girl), my father was the worst son in existance, and we as a family take advantage of her and he deterioting health. That night ended with us pretty much saying, "We'll see you at the funeral." It's sad that because of her, my relationship with my grandfather has to suffer. I really really enjoy spending time with him. That, and he's a genius. Think the Chrysler Turbine Car in the 1960's and the M1A1 Abrams tank of the US Army. His signature is written all over them.

That night my Aunt and Uncle treated both my father and I to a good greasy Hooters meal. Two "Hooties" even signed my vest, of which I keep gloating about to everyone. It, in fact, inspired a new project, but we'll see if it comes to fruition.

After having mulitple arugments over the phone with my mother about when we had to show in the Thumb, we eventually settled that first priority was to have an appointment a Saginaw Valley State Menta...uhhh...University. End result? My personal choice is not to return to SVSU. Three colleges in three years. I'm on a roll.

When we did eventually get to the Thumb, the Grandparent's (mothers parents) 50th Anniversary celebration weekend started. Four days of fun. Meet with all the family, smile a lot, pose for photos, the normal shit. But there was this one particular night...

Beer Fest. Or at least that's what I've happened to call it. If I kept proper score, I had 7 beers (five of them were this IPA that was 9.9%), half a bottle of dessert wine (It was too heavy with Brandy, to be honest), and a couple of shots of some sort of whiskey. Needless to say my head was only wadding into the sea of alcohol. In step my mother and her evil twin. I got cut off. De-umbilicaled. Re-corked. Bollocks. I went back to my grandparents basement with a heavy buzz/light drunkness. I do remember calling Miss Ataxia and leaving a voicemail on her phone.

The rest of the time spent there went smoothly, and the drive home commenced. This time we spent the three night on the road. Omaha, Reno, and Fresno to pick up the pets. Somewhere between Omaha and Reno, the conversation of my virginty came up. And it was found out that it no longer existed. Somehow, someway, in the end, I wasn't the one in trouble. It was, I quote, my "horny bastard" of a father that was. I'm still mystified.

In Reno, we cruised around The Strip for an hour looking at the Casinos. It's dosn't even hold a cardboard match to Las Vegas. We also took some time and headed south to go through Yosemite and the Tioga Pass. Can't say I was too thrilled to be spending even more time in the car, but I did enjoy myself in the end. After the night in Fresno and the trip back to home, I'm worn out from travel.

And yet, the only thing I can think of is when I can get back to Miss Ataxia. Or when Ataxia can come to me. Either's fine. Going to is better though. Shared bed.

Johnny Rumble