One cold night in January of 1945 some patrons were hanging around a smoky club in the after hours sort of just loitering, shooting the shit, talking to the musicians and whatnot. Marijuana smoke permeated the already thick air in the club. Out of nowhere, the police busted in and started screaming and yelling and grabbing people and basically doing what cops did to African Americans in the 40�s (and still now unfortunately). They grabbed one man who was particularly agitated and flailing. They had his best friend, Earl. Earl had just been sitting against the stage chatting with some friends sharing a joint. �What the hell do you think you�re doing?� the man asked as they held his friend who wasn�t putting up much of a struggle. �Stop that man! You don�t know what you�re doing! The guy you�re pushing around just happens to be the world�s greatest pianist!� Just then, a hand went up, and a policeman cracked his club atop Earl�s head with a sound that resembled a walnut cracking. Earl fell to the floor and was out cold. Earl �Bud� Powell, was taken to a hospital and treated, while his friend who had been protesting, another pianist by the name of Thelonius Monk was held briefly for questioning. Bud was arrested and basically treated like an animal in jail. He was given ammonia showers when he protested, and this was the beginning of his downfall. He suffered headaches for the rest of his short life, while his good friend Thelonius Monk sat and watched. This is a true story actually. Bud Powell is definitely my all time favorite jazz pianist right in front of Bill Evans, and Thelonius Monk. I can�t think how many hours I�ve spent listening to Bud; hearing his moaning along with the notes always brings many chills. Anyway, I guess the reason I am thinking of this story, is I am listening to Bud Powell (and yes I did have to go and consult the Bud biography to get the year and Thelonius quotes correct!), and I was thinking of that story in the context of best friends. I have no real best friend. I can�t really imagine what it�s like to have a life long best friend. It�s probably too late for that now for me anyway. My life is �half over� now. I have a pretty good amount of friends. Not many that I talk to every single day, and that is a good thing. I can�t be bothered with an every day person. Who can? On the other hand. Listening to the guy in my office talk to his girlfriend on the phone and say things like �I had a piece of pizza�yeah, how about you?�oh yeah, how was it?� What the hell is that like, I can�t remember that. Talking to a girlfriend on the phone who asks you what you ate. How cute. I sort of wish I had something like that right now, yet I sort of don�t. I don�t know where I�m going with this, as it�s early in the evening, and we know what that means.

Okay, so that was written before I went out this evening, and has been just sort of sitting there waiting for me to come home and add to it. I have no clue what the hell I was getting at, so I�ll leave it the way it was�I have way more important things to talk about thank you�So I was going to go to dinner with Angela for my birthday this evening. I was actually thinking of talking to her about �things�, when I met her at the restaurant outside, she took me around the back, and we went in. I got to the table, and to my surprise was Shawn, Sarah, Steve, and Tracey with birthday greetings. This was nice. We had a long dinner, extending to the parking lot with a conversation about work of all things. Me longing to get out of work all week, and here I am in the cold talking about work! I think it�s good to talk about work with your friends, it�s nice to get a sense of what we all do and deal with day to day. Now coming home and talking to yourself about work would be a different story. So anyway, afterwards, Angela and I went to get a cup of coffee for me at the donut shop that I frequent. A few weeks ago I had this dream about this cute redhead that I see there from time to time. She knows my friend, and drummer in my band Breaux sort of. I�ve maybe said hello to her once in my life. Regardless, I�ve always thought she was damn cute. So she came in and stood behind me in line with a girlfriend of hers. I said hello and we flashed each other smiles. The line was slow. After a minute she tapped me on the arm �hey what are you up to this evening?�. Me being the geek as usual, �ummmm, it�s my birthday and well, nothing now I guess�ummm, yeah� �Why don�t you come hang out with us?� It was my turn in line to order coffee, I ordered and sort of muttered something to her about �my friend out in the car�, or maybe I was just thinking that. After an all too brief small talk thing, and me noticing just how great her hair, and mouth was I left �Have a good night� I told her. �Yeah, you too, happy birthday� I then drove Angela back to her car and drove home a bit depressed. I had a good night, but otherwise, I feel trapped or something right now. Don�t know how to explain that though�.That changed though. I stopped to get more coffee shortly after, pulled in and saw Annu sitting in there with a couple friends. She ran out and gave me a hug, and I ended up hanging with her for a couple hours. I really dig her. Not like that, I just think she�s one of the coolest girls I know. I always have a nice time with her, conversation is stimulating, and she�s just a good person. We seem to tell each other everything now. At one point I told her I would give a man a blow job for a joint tonight�A bit hypocritical for a man so down on alcohol, but, hey�I was kidding btw.

I feel like an idiot sometimes when I write on here and read it later. I�ve told myself I would never remove anything I�ve written, as I was feeling a certain way at that point, and it would just be silly of me to take it away. So I received two e-mails today from people saying �Not sure if I�m supposed to wish you a happy birthday after reading your entries the past week, but happy birthday anyway� Obviously I would accept the greetings! I�m not a grump all the time, just twenty-two hours a day : ) The first one was from Mike, a cool guy I met here a few months ago, through Diaryland. He�s one of the nicest guys I�ve never met, he has great taste in music, and seems to put up with my procrastinating e-mail responses like a good friend. I look forward to someday giving him a tour of Boston if he ever visits, as well as a tour of my CD collection : ) The second e-mail was from Sarah. My friend from London, who now lives in Vancouver. I met her a couple of years ago when the both of us had �personal ads� up at Yahoo! She has visited me twice now, and is quite possibly my best friend that I don�t ever get to see in person on a regular basis. Regardless of the fact that she thinks Guided By Voices are �just okay� she is a great person. She once got upset that I didn�t take her down Ipswich Street like a proper man would.

So you get viewpoints from all over the map and it confuses you as to who you should be listening to. I try not to listen to any views at this point, as they are all pretty pointless. I have thrown aside certain feelings into a bin marked in thick black magic marker �for use later� I know at some point the truth will be told, and maybe someday I�ll even get to say �I told you so� It feels pompous to think this way, but it�s the God�s honest truth. I feel like my opinion is not taken that seriously, and weak people are taking over. Showing up in the form of the three wise men with gifts. Showing up on doorsteps of people I respect flashing blinding light in the eyes of the unknowing. I get a kick out of it I guess. I got myself into something stupid recently that I don�t want to get myself into, and I will soon get myself out of it, by lying and ignoring per usual. It�s to a person I don�t really have an ounce of respect for anyway, and I already know I�m lying through my teeth. Flattery is great, sure, especially when it�s well grounded. I laugh my ass off daily now. I have a comic in this person. They have no clue they are a comedian to me. The world is tricked. My world is not being tricked though. I see through glasses of water. I see through the eyes of someone who's seen a bit himself I think. All I can do at this point is again, scratch my head and wonder�

before & after