Internets, too much flu for me this week and too much political b.s. at City Hall. But hey, we’re Portland, so be cool, would ya? Let’s all be cool and not talk about the real problems here. Let’s dance all around and pretend we’re not talking about what we’re really talking about. We can call each other names and then say, Just kidding! (And whisper, I hate that bitch.) We can listen to cocktail music and later, go to a strip club or two. Yeeeeeeeeeee-haw.
Our babysitter, last week: “Aw, it’s just, Sam was my guy!”
her, mulling it over: “You know… bikes… and everything…”
me: “Holy Christ. Are you for real here?”
Is there more “there” there? Integrity would be good. Let’s spread some of that around instead of the STDs. And don’t give me some crap about all politicians are corrupt, all couples sleep around on each other, everyone’s an asshole.
That is not true. You’re not that way, and I’m not that way. True? Or false? There are more of us with integrity out there than you would think. It’s just the unethical ones who get all the attention, not the ones quietly living their lives and trying to keep things under control.
Also, I’m a little aggravated with a certain local society blogger who’s all, Why are you such Puritans, Portlanders? Isn’t it cool our mayor is getting some? Isn’t that cool?
A lot of us are getting some, and we don’t need to find underage tail to make it happen. If something like this is happening right now in Mr. Adams’ life, when he should be acting like a grown man instead of a 17 year old — no, wait, the 17 year olds I know don’t play bullshit games like this — anyway. Chances are it’s a pattern. Chances are it, or a variation of it, will happen again.
If you have crazy shit like this (oh my God I don’t know how my dick slipped out of my pants! Where did you come from, dick?) going on in your life once you’ve hit your 40s — even when you’re in your 30s, or late 20s — you, my friend, have yourself a problem.
I’m not a compulsive gambler here, but I’m not betting on Sam Adams. If he truly had an ounce of integrity, he would step down from office and start over. But appearances, appearances, you know. Wouldn’t want to let go of the brass ring once you’ve stolen it.
Adams has snaked a number of people here, some of them my friends and associates. People have had to step down from their jobs. We don’t need any distractions here and I am feeling resentful. The chaos and bullshit and distractions. We’ve got issues to deal with — jobs. People not having homes. The schools. People going hungry. I don’t want the distractions, I want focus.
I try not to, I try to rise above it, but I do hold a grudge. To quote Karen Karbo, it keeps you warm at night.
Also, just to be completely aboveboard about things, even though almost twenty years have passed by, I still have a grudge against said society blogger. I have tried to forgive and I just can’t forget, and him coming to Sam Adams’ defense has reminded me of a sad, ugly chapter in my life where he also tried to cover for someone else. And have a good laugh about it at the same time. I don’t really feel like writing about it, I don’t know if I ever will. I didn’t want to ever think about it again. I’m ready to move on. Let’s just say — patterns. Same old bullshit. And Portland is a small town, still. There is one degree of separation here, and sometimes not even that much.
Then my minister comes along with, is Adams “truly repenting?” And I’m thinking, Holy Christ, minister, are you for real here? Because if I’m being an asshole all week long, then come Saturday I’m confessing and sobbing, and I’m purified in the blood of the lamb on Sunday, then come Monday, back to being an asshole, that still makes me…
So maybe when that dawns on you, you should deal with your shit and perhaps consider never being an asshole again. And maybe trying to serve as mayor of a fair-sized city while you’re doing this kind of soul-searching is a little bit of a conflict. A drain. Maybe you should just work on your shit for awhile and then take on some bigger tasks after that. Maybe Adams should work a blue-collar job for awhile and see how the other half lives.
I hear he likes gardening. Maybe a landscaping crew would train him up for awhile. Good luck having enough money left over on payday to buy food, but maybe your friends will have you over for soup.
During times when you really want to act like an asshole, you can usually see the patterns emerging, and past childhood trauma comes knocking at the door. Demons rise up and slap the shit out of you and you really, really want to pretend you’re 17 again and be irresponsible but you know what? You’ve got to work through it. You’ve got to rise above it.
“Keep passing the open windows.”
– John Irving, The Hotel New Hampshire
Someone left me a note in comments asking so Wacky Mommy, you uptight snatch, hysterical much? (cuz adding that word, “much,” makes the sentence extra-extra tangy and original) and I’m thinking, You have no idea.
So. So, so, so. Exile on Main Street?
Now that’s cocktail music.
This one is sweet because Mick Taylor is in it. And Charlie is wearing stripedy pants. You know how much I love stripedy. And Mick’s smile, when he flashes it, lights up the whole place.
(Even though that one is on Sticky Fingers, not Exile on Main Street.)