Tcahr Issue 16

eZine lover (@eZine)

Published in 

Tcahr

 · 5 years ago

  

 
           TCAHR - Better Living Through Memetics 

Issue 16 
The Vegas Journals 
(Part One -- All Roads Lead To Vegas)               01/31/01 
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1-7-01 6:30ish 
Figures.  Got to the Greyhound station an hour early just 
so that I could sit around for an extra hour.  I did have 
one interesting conversation with a guy from Germany.  I 
thought I was travelling far!  Seems he traveled from 
Germany to Chicago by plane, train, and bus just to go to 
Moline, IL.  MOLINE?!  Who the Hell travels to Moline from 
across the Atlantic Ocean.  We talked about travelling, 
martial arts, and bouncing.  It seems that in Germany, 
bouncers used to have the same rights as policemen.  Last 
year, a law was passed reducing their powers to that of 
security personnel.  He then showed me his bouncer card. 
Imagine that!  An official bouncer with the backing of the 
law (#1).  I know a lot of bouncers I'd hate to see have a 
card like that.  Hell, I'd hate to see me with a badge like 
that.  Then again, that's Germany, not the big violent U.S. 
of A.  I'm guessing by the look of my fellow passengers I'm 
in for a long and loud ride. 

1-7-01 9:30ish 
I think we're at the Wolcott, Ohio truck shop now.  It's 
been two hours and I already want to kill someone.  There 
was this woman who bitched in line about people, bitched 
about the time and now bitches every time a child cries.  I 
guess she thought Greyhound was all about luxury!  Anyway, 
I'm to the point that I'm already murdering her in lots 
of ingenious and not-so-genius ways.  Another of my 
fellow passengers is giving us a fantastic comedy show; the 
man snores like a stuck bulldozer!  Trying to sleep on the 
bus, I was struck by the beauty of the flat fields covered 
in snow.  This with the thought of my hands around that 
whiner's neck made trying to fall asleep that much nicer. 

1-7-01 11:30ish 
Awoken five minutes before arriving in Des Moines, Iowa 
by some pretty bad driving.  Okay, it wasn’t bad enough to 
kill.  Just bad enough to wake up everyone on the bus. 
Fast turns and hard braking eventually led to crying babies. 
I saw one building that was cool as we decked into the 
station.  Wasn’t worth getting off for.  Wasn’t worth 
wasting this ink either. 

1-7-01 12:30ish 
Our 15 minute stop in Des Moines has now hit the 1hr 30min 
mark.  I find myself worrying about my reservation, 
calculating time differences over and over in my head.  The 
guy across from the aisle is named Chris.  Chris is, and he 
hates this term, a raver.  Five minutes after serious 
discussion, he flashes me a really big vial of acid.  Seems 
he's carrying that, 15 bowls (?) of weed, and $1,000. 
Sounds like a good person to know.  The attitude on the bus 
is getting testy (duh!).  At least I have a brand spanking 
new cheapo camera.  I thought about clicking a pic of this 
lousy condition, but when you've seen one Greyhound fuck-up, 
you've seen them all. 

1-8-01 4:00am 
Omaha, Nebraska.  I've never seen so many ugly slack-jawed 
hicks in my life.  That’s pretty amazing when you consider 
all the time I’ve spent down south.  Everyone had to get off 
the bus so it could be cleaned.  I’ve yet to introduce 
Cynthia.  She’s a weird one.  She’s already bragged about 
"Daddy" buying her a car, doing drugs to impress Chris, and 
she’s carrying around a large stuffed monkey.  I also could 
have sworn I heard monster metal ballads blasting out of her 
Walkman.  Other than her weak chin, there’s nothing else 
special about her(#2).  I wonder if I look around this crowd 
whether I’ll find any past members of "Hee-Haw"? 

1-8-01 4:27am 
Chris is turning out to be an interesting passenger.  Seems 
me, him, and Cynthia have become an unofficial trio.  Chris 
met three other ravers here.  A chick with dreads, a guy 
with blue hair in a leather jacket, another garden-variety 
one (#3).  They're heading to Chicago!  Strange how close these 
"ravers" are.  If Goth was like that, I'd still be wearing 
velvet and ruffles! 

1-8-01 early am - sun rising 
Just woke up thanks to our new driver's stunt driving. 
Jesus, does this company scout their drivers?  News?  Seems 
Chris "accidentally" dosed himself at the last station(#4). 
Him and Cynthia went out and lit up, I played guard -- after 
taking pics of the sunrise.  After that sleep, I'm beginning 
to feel good and pretty damn excited. 

1-8-01 12:00pmish Mountain 
I now realize that the majority of us on the bus have been 
surrounded.  The front of the bus is property of an 11+ 
family.  The back of the bus is now the domain of a family 
of four where the only form of communication is yelling. 
Luckily I've spent most of the day asleep, instead, of 
course, for those moments of ear-piercing screaming and the 
scent and the scent of baby shit.  Our old codger of a bus 
driver has made it a point to hit on a pretty (somewhat) 
30ish-40ish redneck complete with Harley Davidson baseball 
cap and a pretty nice rack.  In Omaha, where she joined our 
group, me, Chris, and Cynthia were talking about using coats 
as pillows.  That's when "Harley" piped in "I've got mine" 
and opened her coat to flash her tits(#5).  Strangely refreshing 
to say the least.  Chris freaks out the family behind us by 
dancing all trancey-raver like in his seat.  I know they 
immediately thought drugs.  I guess they would have to be 
proclaimed right even thought their evidence is just 
dancing.  Ahhh!  Modern conformity!  Someone just pointed 
out the Rocky Mountains in the distance.  Now all I need is 
the desert! 

1-8-01 3:45 Mountain 
Been in Denver three hrs. I hate this place already.  This 
place has a weird urban wasteland feeling, kind of as if I 
stepped into a fancier Detroit(#6).  There's good-looking 
people, good-looking buildings, good-looking streets.  But 
the businesses are all closed up and empty in the mall and 
there really seems to be nothing to do.  It reminds me of 
a saying I heard once "American smiles are like American 
fruit--big, flashy and devoid of taste."  Yup, you could 
easily say the same about Denver.  So other than a quick 
smoke in a stairwell for the other two and a semi-run-in 
with two hillbillies vagrants, Denver was a total bust. 
Cynthia has gotten on the bus to Colorado Springs, so we're 
down to two now.  She's a good kid, right down nice in 
fact(#7).  Kinda sorry for my earlier first judgement. 
Guess in the end I'm just another Goth snob.  Oh yeah, when 
we arrived here, the bus driver called that woman he was 
flirting with by her first name.  It was Jeri.  Old man 
works fast. 

1-8-01 about 5:45pm Mountain 
I'm finally on the bus.  There's a big crowd waiting to get 
in.  This is going to suck.  Turns out that the whiner's 
husband/boyfriend was a Gangster Disciple from Chicago.  He 
left in '93 because things were getting too hot for him and 
he was worried for his mother.  This is the first time he's 
been to Chicago in years.  There's an extremely sexy blonde 
in line waiting to come in and I'm remembering that Neal 
Cassidy would have probably gotten a hand job under a 
blanket by now(#8).  Man!  To return to simpler and more 
degrading times!  I sat through a discussion between Chris 
and the GD on Trance-Rave/Hip-Hip dancing and wouldn't you 
know I'm already wondering how can I fuse those dance 
concepts into Goth(#9).  Could be a lot of fun. 

1-8?-9?-01 Who knows?  No watch. 
Woke up in a tunnel which was long and winded like a snake. 
It was pretty interesting.  Then the tunnel stopped and the 
first word out of my mouth was an awed "wow!"  I found 
myself face to face with the Rockies.  This mountain range 
is everything I've wanted to be.  I might as well seen the 
face of God(#10).  I don't care about the discomfort now. 
All of this was worth it! 

1-9-01 12:05am 
Waiting again, this time at Grand Junction, Colorado.  Saw 
the Grand Mesa, which although beautiful and graceful, is a 
tad unimpressive after travelling through the Rockies. 
Before this we waited at Eagle, Colorado and before that we 
stopped for a smoke in the Rockies.  This is getting 
silly(#11).  Ten hours (hopefully) to go.  Wish the sun was 
up so I could see the desert properly. 

1-9-01 6:15am 
Truck stop in Utah.  Spent most of the time looking for my 
Yin-Yang button.  Spent more time looking for my Andy Warhol 
button.  While sitting outside, I saw a car drive up which 
just made me laugh.  White car with the license plate "919 
KLU".  I guess they're not too subtle here in the sticks.  I 
wonder what he thought of my crossed-out swastika button and 
my "destroy fascism" patch.  Would you believe Chris met 
another raver?  She was quite the little cutie.  She shared 
one story about stripping in Vegas and kicking a guy who 
touched her in the head.  Nine stitches.  She also told us 
about a passenger on her bus who kept touching his dick 
while looking at her.  Also talked with a Punk outside who 
had a Black Flag tattoo on his head.  While Chris and the 
girl talked about breakin' me and him discussed the fine 
points of moshing and skagging.  Greyhound--chariot of the 
counter-culture.  Oh yeah, the Punk looked like Tank Abbot; 
a look which seems to be going around(#12). 

1-9-01 8:00amish Pacific 
Less than 100 miles to go.  As soon as we crossed the Nevada 
state line, out popped the casinos.  The town was named 
Mequiste (sic), like the bar-b-que chips.  Been watching 
these desert mountains for a while now.  Not to be a total 
bastard or anything, but I now realize why portable 
televisions were created.  The desert is nothing more than 
expansives of brown rock peppered with plants that look like 
green tribbles from Star Trek.  I've seen paint dry with 
more action than this. 

1-9-01  11:00amish 
Vegas.  I nearly busted my ass thrice on the sidewalks on 
the Fremont Experience.  The streets are slick with rain. 
Eventually after much huffing and puffing, I arrived at the 
Ogden House wearing my heavy coat and lugging my big bag. 
I'm all unpacked and ready to wash the two day funk off this 
body after the end of this sentence. 
------------------------------------ 
NOTES 

(1) This was followed by a story about one of his bouncer 
    associates tying a troublemaker to a chair in the back 
    of a club and beating him for about half an hour. 

(2) I know, I know.  Sounds like a stupid thing to point 
    out, but I've only seen another chin like that on an 
    associate I had in the Army.  It was kind of like there 
    was no jawline; just a chin and then a neck. 

(3) He just seemed like your average pot-smoking hippie. 

(4) I know nothing about drugs.  He was pouring a drop of 
    acid on a piece of tissue paper for a kid buying from 
    him and the acid splashed on him.  He says this is one 
    way to get high on acid.  What the Hell do I know? 

(5) She was wearing a T-shirt, you pervos! 

(6) However, I consider Detroit much more run-down and, yet, 
    strangely cool as fuck. 

(7) I certainly wouldn't have had the patience nor the 
    demeanor to play stuffed monkey attack for an hour and 
    a half with a bunch of ankle-biters on a Greyhound bus! 

(8) My libido seems to act up on trips; some of my female 
    friends may find this entry or my admission of having a 
    libido shocking.  No, the blonde never got on our bus. 
    Besides, I'm too much the cowardly Beta-male to have 
    even spoken to her something anyway; especially with the 
    rather large man behind her who ended up being her 
    boyfriend. 

    Neal Cassidy is, of course, of beatnik fame. 

(9) I still catch myself sometimes trying out Chris' moves 
    in the mirror! 

(10) There are some sights best kept to one's self.  Sorry, 
     this is one of them. 

(11) This bus driver just loved his smoke breaks. 

(12) Good old Tank Abbot of Ultimate Fighting Championship 
     fame. 
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tcahr@hotmail.com                             Copyright 2001