I love the apocalypse

I'm not sure why, but something about natural disasters, even man made disasters, excites me. It's not that I'm the anomaly either. I'm not some sort of freak. I think most of us find these things thrilling even if we don't want to admit it. No one enjoys human tragedy, espesially on a personal level, but when an event is so big that you can't wrap your brain around it, it takes on a different flavor. I think it has something to do with the fact that we feel some comfort in an event that makes the issues that plague us in our daily lives seem petty, or insignificant. But there is also just the excitement of a situation beyond our control that we share with everyone in common. Big events bring folks together.

When I was a little kid in the 1970's and 80's we were deeply immersed in the cold war. People were always trying to scare us kids about the possibility of nuclear war. The idea of course being if our generation grew up in fear of the bomb, we would grow up to end the cold war or something. (It's the same principle used with todays kids concerning the environment. The belief that if we use fossil fuels for "one more year" it will be too late and Minnesota will become coastline. Hmm? Actually that sounds okay to me.) Anyway, the cold war ended when my generation was still scoring weed and trying to perfect the gravity bong. Even though they tried to scare us I found the possibility of nuclear war seductive. I am a sci fi nerd, so the idea of a post apocalyptic future was on my mind more than the average child. I didn't fear armageddon, I welcomed it. But you see friends, nothing in my life really goes my way. It's a curse. So since nothing goes my way, and I wanted nuclear war with the Russians, well...You're welcome. It's my fault there was no nuclear war. If you have enjoyed the past 20 years, remember I'm responsible for everyone being alive. I don't think it would be too much to ask for every American to send me $1.00 as a gratuity.

I am always looking for that next earth-shattering event. Something that changes everything, and effects all people rich or poor. This doesn't have to be destruction either, it could just be the sudden appearance of aliens. This happenend in the TV mini-series V, and a also in Independence Day. Both examples went poorly for mankind, but who cares, I just want the aliens to show up. I remember getting tears in my eyes while watching Independence Day in the theatre. I didn't care that they were destroying our cities, I was just so happy that they had come. So if you are an alien reading this, please come. The people of earth welcome you. Come kill us if you want, but just come. It won't happen you know, because I want it. So I think you all should pay me another buck.

On a smaller scale, how many people out there think roller coasters are too safe? I do. There is no real thrill when there are never any fatalities. That's why I prefer those county fair rides, especially the Zipper. Sometimes when you board the Zipper, you can see bolts falling out of it, and you know it was erected by some carnie with no teeth probably addicted to meth. Now that's a thrill ride!

Speaking of Politics

Hey everybody, check out who Steve Zahn wants to win the presidential election this "December".

Republican National Convention

Okay dear readers there are a couple of things you must know. First off, the RNC is happening here, in my home town. Secondly, I have been known to have fascist tendencies, and have voted for a few more Republicans than I really care to fully explain. I hate them as much as you all do, but dammit, I hate the Dems more, most of the time. Don't try to figure me out, don't hate, be creative. People, I am the perfect ambassador to go into the lions den. I can go there in a suit, with press credentials, and come out with a tale of woe so juicy it will stain your underwear.

Why am I the perfect ambassador? Well, for one thing I can speak Reaganese. I know how to talk limited government, no new taxes, and well, I really find war to be exciting TV. These skills get me in under the radar you see. I get in and then I report back to all of you, the folly of it all. I can meet folks there and find after parties. I am a working musician, I know how to find after parties. I can expose the debauchery of the "family values" party because I am a family man and I am also an ex-hippie who isn't afraid to take a hit on a bong for the cause of pure, objective, albeit zany journalism. This mission is mine to fulfill, now help me fulfill it.

This is what I need from you. Credentials. I need to find an organization that can get me in. Too many lefty media sources are focusing all their energy on protesting the thing that they aren't considering the fun of a gate crashing panty raid. Come on folks, help me out here. If anyone has ANY clout with a news organization that can get me a day pass into this sea of bufoonery, please let me know. I will write an honest appraisal of the situation I find within, as well as a commentary on the behind the scenes depravity I may find in the bathroom stalls. Cocaine people. I bet there is lots of cocaine there. If there is, I'll sniff it down, and report it.

I won't meet any of the big wigs of the party I'm certain, but I will immerse myself within a go getting bunch of young Republicans, and I will follow them from gentleman's clubs to the hotel rooms, and I will give the exact coordinates in which to find the remains of any mangled hookers. I was born for this folks. Just give me a chance.

My first thought for a sponsor is Lavender Magazine. It's our local gay publication of note. They reviewed my last CD positively, and I am very gay friendly. I'm not gay, but I can probably find plenty of gay young Republicans if I'm looking.

I summation, I know no matter what, the article I write will be entertaining, fun, and scandalous. Stupid John McCain will never hear about it, but maybe it will derail a few voters toward not voting for him. Actually I don't really care. I'm voting for Chris Hill. Still, think of the funny.

A man of my word.

A couple of months ago my friend, and yours, posted a picture of her deck showing a scary electrical wire in close proximity.
Go here to refresh your memory, and check out my comment. I'll wait for you to come back.......Okay you're back. Well here is a picture from last weekend.
We were able to drive through town on our way back from the ocean, and I kept my word. Smoking and touching the wire. HA! I fucking rule! Go Zahn!

Cape Fear

So I have been on vacation with my family on the beach in North Carolina this past week. It was heavenly. This was the view outside my massive master suite window everyday.

We spent a lot of time in the sun and the surf, and Belsum's Scandinavian family got super pink and burned. Good times. Thank god my mom's great grandma banged a native, because I gots me melanin. Yes dear readers, I tan to a golden delicious semi-brown.

We had internet at our swanky beachfront environs, but every time I tried to get on the computer I got hassled by the wife's family to stop nerding out and to join in the activities. But I'm back now. There are lots of stories to tell, but I will limit myself to one.

One sunset we were sitting in the hot tub listening to the crashing ocean waves when I decided that me and my fellow tubbers needed beers. So I sent my niece Abbe on a beer run to the cooler in the kitchen. She came back empty handed. She said her mom wouldn't let her bring us beers. I looked inside and I saw her mother shaking her fist at me. Later Abbe's mom brought us our beers, (so I still win) but bitched me out for asking a 6 year old to fetch them. Now people. I am from the 70's, and I am from South Dakota in the 70's, so I just didn't understand the problem at all. I can't remember a time when I wasn't fetching beers. I mean the beers are there. The adults are drinking them. What's the problem? Later I pulled Abbe aside and instructed her to "go under the radar" the next time I send her on a mission.

The next day we are eating at the kitchen table and I needed a fresh beer, so I tell Kirk, who is only 3 and busy not eating as usual, to go to the cooler and bring me one. The boy walked across the busy room. I saw a bunch of activity in the area around the cooler, several minutes passed, but eventually Kirk rounded the corner in triumph holding the beer over his head and smiling, shouting, "Daddy, I did it." What a good boy. I hugged him and opened my beer. Then I looked across the table at Abbe and said, "Kirk is practically a baby, and he successfully completed HIS mission." She protested, "But my mom wouldn't let me!" I looked at her as soberly as I could and said, "I'm not interested in your excuses, I'm only interested in your results. Let this be a life lesson for you." And then she stuck her tongue out at me. Ha!

All I have to say is, I know I'm a good father, but I'm also one hell of an uncle.

New Game

Kirk said, "Play with me." So we started play with all his new birthday toys. Mostly this consists of the entire cast of Disney Pixar's Cars. Great film by the way. I've seen it 763 times, this week. Fucking Disney, they get so much of my money. Anyway! We were playing our usual car games which consists of me getting to play with only the select cars Kirk grants me to play with. I have to BEG to get even one of the 3 Lightening McQueens. But he usually lets me have one of the 2 Maters. He's a good boy. I decided to jazz up the game a bit and I pulled down some of MY toys from the top of the fridge. Here is a picture.
As you can see it is the Doctor, Woody from Toy Story, Captain Jack Harkness with a sith lightsabre, and a Kirk monster doing something unspeakable to Tintin and his rocket. Good times. Just imagine the adventure.

Anglo-American entente

I first became aware of the concept of Anglo-American entente when I was reading the biography of President William McKinley. (President nerd alert!) McKinley was president during the end of the 19th century and into the beginning of the 20th century. Today we know that the UK or Great Britain are our bestest buddies, we fought with them in WWI, WWII, and hell we invaded Iraq together (it is rarely mentioned why they were so complicit in the invasion, but friends the troubles of Mesopotamia date back to the fall of the Ottoman Empire in the wake of The Great War, England knew this mess was theirs), but before Mckinley we were still sore over the American Revolution and the War of 1812. It wasn't until McKinley's time that all the border disputes between the US and Canada were firmly resolved and we could look upon the world together as english speaking nations with a common culture and become the friends we are.

I look upon the english speaking countries of the world as a family. I like to think that the British Empire is still alive and well, just under new management. Mother england has somewhat retired so now the elder child, the United States has taken on the job as CEO. Here's how it breaks down. Mother or Father England ran the company for years. Then the elder son, the American colonies rebelled. We said, "Fuck you Dad, I'll wear my hair how I want. You're not the boss of me!" So Father England put the smack down and we left home never to return. But in time we did return, after we grew up and cut our hair and became responsible squares in our own right. In time over a World War Christmas we hugged Father England and were prepared to run the family business.

Australia, the middle child, was busy yelling "oi" and beer bonging in college.

Canada, the youngest child, the weird kid. I mean whenever you see something American but "not quite right" it can be easily explained by being simply "Canadian." It's because of the Frenchness. The paternity of Canada may be in question you know. Anyway Canada spent a lot of years in the parents basement playing video games and drawing and shit. The kid is probably mildly autistic, which accounts for the lack of social skills, but brilliant. Suddenly, in recent times Canada is starting to come out of his shell, and is producing great things. If Australia sobers up and takes over the family business from a pill popping weary middle aged United States, Canada will be fine living on it's own.

Then there is the adopted child. India. It's not really talked about much. Embarrassing history and all. But India too is rising to power.

Okay. Let the hate comments pour in. I'm ready.

Happy 4th of July!

Independence Day! America's birthday! Yay! I love this holiday so much. I am an American history nerd as well as a president nerd. The two go hand in hand. We celebrate today the bold steps taken in declaring ourselves a sovereign nation free from the shackles of British Imperial tyranny. Actually there is a lot more to it than that, but it was bold. We were sticking it to the man. And the man just happened to be the world's strongest power, while we were nothing but a rag tag bunch of colonial farmers and craftsmen, with a bunch of rich guys leading us into the jaws of certain doom. The declaration at the time was not a patriotic act. We were all British citizens. It was an act of rebellion, it was treason. But it worked damnit, and I love the United States of America.

We brought forth a new nation. A nation that held true the principles of the Enlightenment. It was a first, it was unique, and it helped set the tone for the nature of politics henceforth. No matter what you think of America today, our founding was and is a momentous occasion in the history of government.

To all my friends from the UK, hey, don't fret babies, Americas rebellion was just growing pains for our english speaking family, and today we are good friends once again. We love the english for their awesome New Wave music and Doctor Who, but for much much more. My next post will address that in detail (besides you got us back when you burned down the White House during the War of 1812), but for now I want to celebrate the old pagan summer holiday the way Americans have for 232 years--by drinking excessively and blowing shit up!

When I was a kid in South Dakota I was given my first bag of fireworks by my dad. I was 7 years old. We blew shit up for America and it was so much fun. It was still the 70's and we would use one of our mom's cigarettes to light the fuses. They worked better than punks. I can remember my 9 year old brother asking my half drunk mom for another cigarette. She was tired of lighting them for us, so she just told him to light them himself. I have a clear image in my mind of my brother with a smoke in his mouth trying to awkwardly light it. Some people who didn't grow up around fireworks fear them. I am sorry for that, and I'm sorry for all the dumbass kids who got hurt playing with fireworks, but not that sorry because it was you idiots that made it so I have to drive across state lines and break the law to celebrate my nations independence in the manner seen fit by the great John Adams.

Among the prices of freedom is responsibility. My drunk 70's parents knew we wouldn't get hurt, because they told us not to. Simple as that. I've blown up a lot of shit for America over the years, but I always explode my incendiary treats with respect. Sure there have been some misguided bottle rocket wars, a few minor burns, but that is all paying honor to the great men and women who have fought to keep us free all these years. To the veterans of the United States of America, I salute you. To the men and women now fighting, I will openly break state laws to show my love and respect for this great country of ours.

I'm leaving my job.

I've been at the cafe for most of the 21st century and now I'm wrapping things up. I'm making my final schedules. I'm cleaning out my desk, and I'm trying to train people to take care of the old girl when I'm gone. I feel like a captain leaving his starship. I'm excited about the future, but I'm also sad. I really care about this place, and I want to see it in safe hands, yet I need to not be here anymore. I need to find the next new adventure. I'm frightened, but it is fear that usually keeps me from trying new things in the first place. I need to live in fear for awhile.