Drivers Diaries

Martha Stansky stands in the living room of her studio apartment above the liquor store watching T.V. Her left arm is folded across her gentle breasts, bracing her right arm at a ninety-degree angle. A cigarette is perched between the thin fingers of her right hand just inches from her mouth. She stands to watch T.V. in her silk housecoat and curlers because if she sits down something might not get done. If she sits down she might think about things that won’t happen. She will think about the holidays that she won’t celebrate with friends and family that she doesn’t have. She will think about the presents she won’t get for the children she never had. She will think about the life that she never lived. She will wonder how she became a middle-aged short order waitress instead of a powerful lawyer or saintly doctor. Martha Stansky just stands in the one room of her one room apartment above the liquor store smoking and watching T.V.

Unveiling

OK, so I admit that I was trying to be very anonymous with this blog and create a name that was pretty pat, but as the fates would have it I began writing for a site called "blogcritics" (see link on my right sidebar) and they used my real name and linked it to this site, so, there we are.

I have been pleased with the comfort of writing this blog has given me and I am hoping to continue in that vein now that I am outed.

There are some features that I have added to the site that help maintain it and I want to point them out so that you, if you were so inclined, might click the links and help further the cause. (The cause being this site). The first I have already mentioned, blogcritics. It is described as a "sinister cabal of writers and critics". I think that menacing is better than sinister, but who am I to correct. Once there you will find an assortment of entries by writers such as myself. I have posted the review of Tom Waits latest CD there, albeit a longer one than you will find here. Good group of writers. Check them out and support them.

The second feature is the Google search bar at the bottom of this page. If you are looking for something, why not search for it from this site (it helps). Also there are several links surrounding the search bar menu. These are ad links and, again, help maintain this site.

Thank you all again for your support and comments. I look forward to continuing this site for some time.

Ben

Drivers Diaries

Parson’s Grove.

The wheels roll along the seams of Michigan roads. Headlights rise and fall over the hills and everyone must watch for reflective green eyes along the side of the highway. I've just left a little town set amongst the back woods like some treasure that is seen only by those who know its there and is preserved in perfect antiquity, just like Disney's body. Parson's Grove boasts the oldest tavern in Michigan. This is a point of pride that the residents celebrate every night it seems. In fairness to them, it’s the only things to do in town after 6:00 p.m. other than buy groceries.

A gas station use to sit on the corner of Borden road, but that didn’t prosper so they made it a Celtic gift store. I’ve seen the children of Parson’s Grove jumping from the bridge into the town lake in the summer and playing baseball nearly every night possible, but now that the weather has turned cold they have all disappeared. Lights now decorate every house in town. They line every street and shimmer off the unfrozen lake. People here take the birth of Jesus very serious. The lights are a way for them to let you know they’re serious about the celebration too. I can imagine that there will still be handmade toys under some of the trees in Parson’s Grove.

I am glad to be leaving that little town. I am glad every time. I don’t belong there. I belong out among the mutants of the post-capitalist fallout.

Monday Morning

Hello all. I see from my counter that you have been visiting. I thank you most sincerely. I wanted to point out one of the nifty features of the site. Below my blog entry you will see a section that says "comment". If you click on the link beside it you will be directed to an area where you can, in fact, leave a comment. I encourage you to do this as it makes the site just that much more interesting. I do not moderate comments so anything you say will be posted. (I believe in free debate). I also have opened the site up for anyone that wants to comment. In other words, you don't have to become a member to do so. This makes for a wonderful opportunity for you to say what you like, or dislike, about the site. Tell me about your day. Or just blab. I look forward to hearing from each and every one of you.

Sincerely,

Poet

Drivers Diaries

Hicksville

I’m roaring down M-57 in a head on snowstorm. My stocking cap is drying on the dashboard heater and it fills the cab with the acrid smell of warm wool soaked in sweat. There’s a Styrofoam cup in the console that sloshes a thick black liquid that the Sunoco passes off as coffee. It smells a little like diesel and that’s OK ‘cause it’s hot and it keeps me going.

I’m on my way to the middle of nowhere and I must be just about there ‘cause I passed Podunk road. The sign reads “Podunk Ave.”, but it’s nothing more than a gravel road. Somebody gave it the designation of avenue hoping that it might lend some credibility. As if three little letters, A-V-E, will make Podunk sound better. Anyone who knows Podunk can tell you it just runs north and south through cornfields and backwoods. It doesn’t lead really anywhere. The nearest town is Hicksville and that’s about ten miles north and east.

That stretch of land between Podunk and Hicksville is spotty with farmland and trailer houses that use old cars and home furniture as lawn decorations. There’s one trailer there that has a yard gnome sitting in an old Lay-Z-Boy in front of a console TV. Guess that passes as art for these folks.

Hicksville is a different story altogether. The residents are eager to tell you just how metropolitan their fair town is compared to the outskirts. Their buildings are made of brick, wood, and stone. No cheap aluminum here. They also have the privilege of a library. Though everyone knows that the ladies of the town use it mostly to keep up on Harlequin Romances. Yep, the folks of Hicksville don’t take too kindly to the notion that they are anything like those folks that live between here and Podunk road (Ave.).

Anniversary

It was ten years ago today
That my life changed in an amazing way
I met the love of my life
And soon made her my wife
There have been ups and downs
But we have had more laughs than frowns
We stand by each other’s side
Just enjoying the ride
I know that this all sounds so very schmaltzy
But I will only have one 10th anniversary
After all, I am committed to this person
She is my only one.

Tom Waits' Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers, and Bastards

With Tom Waits you have to either love his music or...well, you get the point. His latest disc, Orphans, is a collection of never before released music that is both stunning and thought provoking. Waits intelligence is evident in his lyrics and his raspy method of delivery is as unique as the man himself. Included in this three disc set is a 94 page booklet that gives lyrics and some interesting photos that you have to make up stories for. It is one of the most original recordings that I have heard lately. Check out the Tom Waits website at http://www.officialtomwaits.com/main.htm.

First of many

I have finally decided to take the plunge into blogging in the hopes that it will provide some sort of release for my creative frustration. I didn't want to take part in those other common blogs on the net as they seemed very sophomoric. With that in mind, I will try not to take myself too seriously.