Man with the master plan to rebuild Afghanistan

“That was just a dream, that's me in the corner...” - R.E.M. “Losing My Religion”

Indeed. And Mitt Romney must feel that way tonight Tuesday February 5, 2008. He just dropped out of the race to lead the GOP. The Man from Michigan is not used to losing and you could see it in his face for his concession speech this morning. He said, “I don’t like losing...” with kind of a sheepish smile. I can imagine a man like Mitt gets his way most of the time. What does he do now? He made boatloads of money bringing companies back from the brink making the tough cuts for the bottom line. It may not be just a cynical view but also partially accurate to always think that money buys power and power corrupts and corruption is tough on the soul. When the soul is in danger, judgment and integrity slip away in a mountain of tweaked decisions and the water becomes murky.

That is what Mitt was known for. The Ultimate Flip Flopper, his convictions blew away with the wind for so much of his life, that he probably didn’t know what to do when put into a corner by a guy like McCain, with temper, sort of blunt by nature and always able to have the whole Vietnam POW card in his back pocket at all times. After Bush destroyed McCain in the SC primary of 2000, I thought McCain was a goner; never to seek the presidency again, but he is an interesting man of ideology and conviction and no matter what those types always do better in the game of life. A rich man is only as rich as his belief in self. Who he his. Who he was. And who he will become. Mitt was the worst thing you could be in his world: a Massachusetts Liberal. The Governor of the gayest state in the Union and he tried to run to the right. War, Guns, and Religion. When you reach too far, usually the outcome is a bit messy.

Like a painter on a high ladder reaching too far to one side in order get the end of a peak. Sometimes you get it. Other times you get that feeling that it is not worth dying for and go back down and figure out the better way. Then again the greed can overpower your better judgment and you go for it and end up in a full body cast.

Two summers ago I was working for a general contractor, a friggin drunk who never tied the ladders off, nor used gas masks while mixing cement, or painting with lacquer in a basement with no ventilation. He never used a harness while roofing and general safety was completely out the window. He was just waiting for the first drink at noon everyday, which to me was not bad it was actually a fun crew to work on and I still have a soft spot both Andy the General Contractor and Angelo the Journeyman, even though they were both dumb and bloated blowing through life. Angelo introduced cocaine to me. And the first time I ever did the drug was in the bathroom at the legendary Seattle bar: Blue Moon. Which is interesting in itself because it was right around the corner from Layne Staley’s apartment where he was found dead in 2001. Late Layne, obviously the lead singer of Alice in Chains. One coincidental fact of my life as a Seattle native is that I was working selling tickets in the ticket booth across the street from Layne’s apartment at Metro Theaters when the news broke of his death. I sat one Saturday morning reading The Seattle P-I front page news of his death, taking sips of my coffee and gazing across the street at the nothing-special green building behind a Kinko’s Copy Center, Marines Recruitment Center and a Money Tree Money Lender...The body had been lifeless for two weeks and the only reason anyone checked up on him is because his bank noticed no transactions for two weeks, which is not normal for anyone who is frequently ingesting speedballs. AIC was always my favorite band from the Seattle dominated 1990’s.

Two years before Kurt Cobain died the same day and I was driving in front of his house on Lake Washington Blvd. When the news broke that morning on my way to school my junior year of high school. I asked my dad questions about why Cobain would do that the rest of the ride. Those two moments will always be landmarks in my life. And I have always felt a sort of kinship with them both because I was there...sort of like Staind’s Aaron Lewis, who no doubt was most influenced by Staley and who’s child Zoe Jane was born the day Staley died. There is no such thing as coincidence or happenstance. And yes, I got a little off track here for a moment with a quick flash from my past. But I think I had a point somewhere in this gibberish.

Ah, yes Angelo and I were standing on some rickety-ass makeshift scaffolding and we couldn’t quite reach the top of the roof where we needed to install a vent and some more siding, but it just wasn’t working and the rain was coming down. Angelo was yelling at me cause he thought he was going to get electrocuted because we were using a Sawzal: electric saw that looks like a rifle. And conditions were getting worse. He was frustrated and couldn’t quite reach what he needed to. I said, “Fuck it come down we will do it when it stops raining.” He was pissed and kept saying he was gonna die. He wanted to stay and get the job done no matter what.

I said “$15 an hour was not worth dying for.” We did not finish that day.

I took this picture along Lake Washington Blvd. in the Arboretum.

He used to live in Kurt Cobain's old castle

It is about to be 5 in the morning. The sun will come up in about two hours and then the worker bees will be on their way. There is no better feeling in the world than going to bed with all windows wide open at 8 in the morning listening to the rain and sounds of the city and starting of the day time world. The warm rich vibration of going to bed for a long rest amidst the chaos of the rat race getting to work on time. The crispness of the air on your nose. The cars are louder in the rain and wet...Val pointed that out earlier today. I am getting a bit off track here reminiscing about a time that is far off at this point. And that my friend is all that matters. Be true to yourself young Buck, never back down, never apologize and always hit them where it hurts. Stand back you savage brutes...This one is not to be touched.

Moments later: Right now it is quiet all I can hear is the faint sound of Val breathing from the bedroom and...fuck wham! The Elephant Neighbors just slammed the goddamn door on their way in. Or was it out? Yes it was out because I didn’t hear them stomp up the stairs, but I didn’t hear them stomp down the stairs either...hmmm. Whatever, never mind. Kurt Cobain said that. He named the album Nevermind as well. I heard on the radio earlier today this DJ (that used to run the board for the live feed of the Howard Stern Show out of the east coast and then re-play it later at 6 in the morning west coast time after I got done with the Late Night shift) was saying that Kurt Cobain’s catch phrase when he would go to a house party was: “Here we are now, entertain us.” Val said she used to think he was saying: “Here we are now entertainers.”

When I was doing late night radio @ KISW, I would say, "He used to live in Kurt Cobain's old castle" every time I played a Nirvana song. Once at 4 am when I was done with my show and getting some food at QFC, the cashier told me that he hates this guy on the the radio that says, "He used to live in Kurt Cobain's old castle" every time Nirvana comes on. The clerk felt the radio guy was laying it on too thick. I nodded my head, kinda chuckled and walked out.

A recent study found that overnight third shift workers have a higher occurrence of cancer and are generally less healthy. My mom used to say I had a green look to my skin when I was doing the overnight thing. I lasted almost five years and loved the magical feeling of being up and creating when the rest of the city slept...especially a city like Seattle. People stay up here, but not out. A legendary rock DJ named Steve Slaton was talking about the report on the health risks of overnight workers and he remarked about how when he started out he did an overnight radio show and that schedule almost made him go insane certifiably crazy. I can’t argue with his findings, but I do firmly believe a person must create as late as possible or early as possible to soak in some of the creatively crazy juices that may otherwise never be tapped into if you only work the nine to five hour routine. Truth is never told during those hours and that is a rule of thumb I firmly believe in. Ahh, the truth hours.

No, I am not talking about the Limbaugh station here in Seattle AM 770 KTTH “The Truth.” There will be no truth telling on that frequency except by accident...Look to Mike Malloy after 10pm and way farther down the dial at AM 1090. Mike Malloy is a National Treasure and he should be treated as such... he broadcasts until 1 in the morning, so yes he is in the truth hours, and all his Truth Seekers are up with him. Those are his listeners and they are faithful...Somewhere in the blue mountains of rural Georgia Mr. Malloy is pounding on the bastards and giving them Hell and no one can do it better. Mike Malloy will fill you up with hope. There have been many a night when he filled me up like a hot air balloon and I hovered around the ceiling feeling giddy for three hours. I am a stronger and wiser man for it. Never let anyone tell you what is good information and who you should listen to. Listen for yourself, see for yourself and do it yourself. C’est la verite.

Reed Wacker: Took this in front of Kurt Cobain's house. Obama yard sign in front of Kurt Cobain's Old Castle.