So I found out what happened to my car window. It done got shot.
My neighbor Blue said she woke up at about 3:15 Saturday morning after hearing eight gunshots and looked outside to see police cars driving every which way. I wasn't sure the broken car window was related, but after the auto-glass folks pointed out a thumb-sized bullethole in the steel of the back hatch, it was pretty clear what happened. "This weren't no small bullet, either," they added.
I'm not sure how this makes me feel. On one hand, I feel bad about my car having been shot twice in less than a year. On the other hand, it's as if my minivan has unintentionally earned the street cred I've always lacked as a white suburbanite. Now I can drive around and listen to songs like this one by Ghostface Killah without worrying about being accused of doing so ironically. Nevermind the JoCo plates, my minivan has survived more slugs than 50 cent.
Speaking of Ghostface, while Jon and I listened to the skits on "Fishscale" this weekend, we were wondering what would happen if indie-rock bands tried to include on their albums the kinds of skits that are so prevalent on rap records. What would they be about? Would anyone take them seriously? It's not an easy question, but as always, you're free to discuss the matter in the comments section.
Rather than end on a violent note, I'd like to include a pair of November portraits:
This shot was taken by Megan after I purchased a bunch of glow things for 50 cents a pop at the CVS post-Halloween sale. By the way, have any of you ever been brave enough to break open a glow stick? I've always wanted to, but have been mortally afraid of doing so, to this day. However, I did hear that if you take shots of the glow-juice, your guts will light up, so that could be worth looking into.
I took this portrait of mystery leaf lady while walking through the woods of Weston Bend State Park, which is well worth a visit this time of year.
And while I'm sharing rap songs, I might as well include my favorite track by Outkast, 13th Floor/Growing Old. I thought about quoting the song's seasonally relevant lyrics here, but it's much more fun just to listen to.
Oh, and I didn't mean to suggest by the top photo that it was SuperArgo or Travis who shot out my car window. I just found the picture Jenn took of them at the old shooting gallery behind Blue Collar Press and thought it would fit the post nicely.
Take care.
3 comments:
damn, so did you find the bullet? that's insane.
On the subject of breaking open a glowstick: They wash out of clothes, and smell like the menus at 54th Street Bar and Grill (not the best smell to take in before ordering). Perhaps this can be investigated more.
You can only become an angsty rapper if you actually were in the car when the shooting occurred. Otherwise, your minivan should start rapping.
Actually, scratch that. (Scritcha scritcha scratch!) If your minivan starts rapping, then there's something wrong with the engine.
But you'll never understand the minivan's angst.
Speaking of which, where do you park when this occurs? One of those crappy downtown art galleries? Art galleries are definitely not hip hop!
Actually, there have been skits on certain metal and rock CD's and casettes. Aerosmith, most notably. I also heard one where someone was throwing up.
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