Freedom from focusing

Update: Come here looking for an answer on the Jimmy Crack Corn Cingular commcerical? All your answers can be found at Jimmy Crack Corn and Cingular is Forced to Care.

So, after spending nearly four weeks focused on one unspeakable subject, I’m to a point at which I no longer have to sit and worry about whether I’m going to be working in Glendive, MT come 2007. The past four weeks aren’t really a subject for for a public blog, but suffice it to say, they involved a lot of life and family choices that I wasn’t really prepared to make. My wife was not pregnant and I wasn’t deciding whether I’m gay. It was a professional thing that still isn’t fully resolved. However, as I wrote to a friend yesterday, it’s liberating to accept that normalcy is less the norm than relative chaos. So, there’s that.

Now that I’m not unduly focused on whether the view out my window is going to change, my mind has been a wandering mess. My regular daydreams have become even more regular. I’m a silly, sappy fool that, for the moment, is bouncing from subject to subject. So, today you get the silt that’s settled in my fingers. The following mental notes are in no particular order.

***

We live on a street that boasts five surburban tract homes. We have lived here for going on seven years and are the longest-running remaining residents of a street that is really hard to spell. Three of the four other houses have sold once apiece since we moved here in 2000. Our neighbors in those three houses are all great people and I could live on the same street with them for a long time without wanting for more or to kill them. The fifth house, the one directly across the street from our’s, is owned by someone who doesn’t live there. It’s been leased several times in the last several years. The first resident was a fairly hot woman who worked in her yard in a bikini. We called her Repo, because the cops came and took all her shit one day. After that, an odd family that only came out of the house on Independence Day moved in. There was an odd People Under the Stairs vibe about them. After that, a preacher and his wife moved in. They didn’t stay long. Bradoween 2005 was enough to scare anyone of serious faith.

Now, we have the people my wife has taken to calling The Pilgrims, in most part because the mother occasionally dresses like a Mayflower woman. They are home schooling people and of a faith I neither understand nor believe is actually recognized by the government. The woman of the house can occasinally be seen running into her house from her car. The man of the house ran his car into my curb on Saturday night, destroying a large slab of concrete that covers our neighborhood’s drainage system. When I went out to ask if he was okay, he rebuffed me with a simple “yes,” and drove his semi-crippled car into the driveway without another word.

I only bring these folks up because they are even odder than the People Under the Stairs who lived here a couple of years ago. That and the fact that the home schooling involves music instruction and one of the kids plays violin. (Some day I’ll have to tell you about Halloween and how this house handled it). Now, usually, the kid plays his fiddle inside and plays it loud enough that I can hear it in my house. Recently, he’s taken to playing the thing outside.

Here’s the thing…the last couple of days “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” has been in heavy rotation on a local rock station. The Pilgrims, Charlie Daniels, and too much time to think…well, they’ve all got me daydreaming that the kid across the street might be the devil. If I hear anything about chickens kicking out dough, I may start re-examininig my system of faith.

***

Does Iran’s President not look like the guy who would sell you a joint at some jam band show? He has this smile that says, “kind bud, fatty burritoes” and a beard that just doesn’t fit a president.

If we had a Wayback Machine (and not the kind that reminds me of how Rapid Eye Reality looked over the past five years), do you think we might spend less time beating up the Taliban and Iraq and might have focused a little more on North Korea and Iran? I mean, whether Iran’s main man smokes dope is not really worth discussing if he gets The Bomb.

Just askin’.

***

A recent legal ruling has re-affirmed my faith in the courts for five minutes. If you didn’t hear, Panera Bread recently tried to get the courts to keep a Mexican eatery from opening in a shopping center in which the over-priced sandwich store had an outlet. Apparently, Panera had a deal with the shopping center that made it clear another sandwich shop couldn’t take up residence in the same area. Panera argued that since Mexican restaurants serve burritoes, they shouldn’t be allowed to open. A judge finally ruled that a burrito is not a sandwich and Panera lost in its bid to completely piss me off.

Problem about this is, I’m now spending way too much time thinking about the legal implications of this ruling and what other foods are not other foods. Most recently, I’ve been wondering whether coffee could be considered a soup.

***

I rented two movies last weekend, both featuring William H. Macy. “Thank You For Smoking” was okay but left me wondering if the comedic possibilities of the film were not fully tapped. I also rented “Edmond” because I like Macy and I like David Mamet.

Edmond…

See, I said I like Macy and I like Mamet. I said that, right? Okay, that said, “Edmond” was so fucking full of itself, it made me question if I really like Mamet. Macy was good, as usual.

Okay, here’s where I’m all fucked up. Maybe I need to watch the movie again. I want to rail on it, but I feel like I do when a friend works hard on something that ultimately sucks and then asks, “So, whatta ya think?”

Anyone else seen this one?

***

Is it Earl? Cat got your tongue? Earl got your tongue?

***

I could spend all day doing this, but since I have a lot of work to do in the next few hours, I’m going to end this silliness here. Otherwise, I’m going to go off on something about communal living.

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Brad Willis

Brad Willis is a writer based in Greenville, South Carolina. Willis spent a decade as an award-winning broadcast journalist. He has worked as a freelance writer, columnist, and professional blogger since 2005. He has also served as a commentator and guest on a wide variety of television, radio, and internet shows.

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12 Responses

  1. I rather enjoyed reading the Panera Bread/Qdoba fiasco. As an avid eater of Qdoba, I was hoping they won. I loved the rationale behind the decision which made sense. A burrito is comprised of one piece of bread (albeit a big flat piece), whereas a typical sandwhich is made up of two.

    We have quite a few places around this area called Pita Delite. It’s exactly what it sounds like, a greekish style Pita joint. I wonder if they would have made it in?

    —–

    I love that “Earl” phone commercial. I also love the one where the soon to be son-in-law is talking to the soon to be father-in law”…

    FIL – You’re about to be my SIL, just call me Jim.

    SIL – Okay…Jim-Bo…Jimmy-Boy…Jimmy Crack Corn And I Don’t Care.

    *Silence*

    SIL – Hello…Jim…I mean, Mr. Smith.

    Good stuff.

    —–
    I rather enjoyed your random post. Keep’em coming.

  2. I do not, however, enjoy saying “I rather enjoy” more than once in a comment. I’m a dolt.

  3. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    I love that “earl got your tongue” commercial, but not as much as I love the AOL commercial from two years ago where that guy goes, “I wish my computer could make the sound of a yeti.”
    Classic.

  4. The best commercial is the weed killer that brings the dog back to life.

    But I digress…

    I’m a pretty big Mamet fan, and William H. Macy for that matter. I haven’t seen Edmond. Now I’m not sure I will. I’ll let you know if I do.

  5. I think Montana would have been a great move…but I’m not sure about the east side of the state. I think the west side is much much prettier. And closer to Idaho and moose running through my back yard, which is where I would love to live again. But that’s just me. I’ve never lived in South Carolina. But who am I to talk? I gave up the gorgeous scenery and wildlife of the Northwest and the fabulous Oregon coastline and moved back to the BORING belly button of the world in order to raise babies near my parents. Believe me, NOTHING else could have convinced me to move back here!

    Glad to hear you are finding resolution in your big potentially life changing decision.

  6. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    Yes, I would agree, West is much much nicer than the barren East….Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care, I love, my wife thinks….huh? I think you should get the scanner fixed on your neighbor…..finally, yeh, my phone has theft deterrent, go on, try and take my wallet……wham!!-FB

  7. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    Macy is a great actor. He appears in movies that are quirky and interesting. They are usually damn good too.

    Did you miss the stories on how close Iraq was to having nukes?

  8. Hey, I got a Web editor opening here in Cincy, if you (or anyone) is desperate to get out of town 🙂

  9. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    blah blah blah… are you moving?

  10. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    Macy in “The Cooler” was definitely spot on.

  11. Anonymous Anonymous says:

    Better question: Are you moving to a commune?

  12. Anonymous Terri the Bartender says:

    Rail away. I am also a Macy/Mamet fan but after watching that movie I turned to my husband and asked how much it cost to rent the video. When he replied that it was only two or three dollars, I shook my head emphatically and said, “That’s too much!”