SIMP

Sifting through 19.5 hours of audio tape to transcribe interviews or ruminations from the road is a harrowing process. I feel so deathly bored and depressed at home. My head and my heart are in other places. Each day is a struggle to keep composure and stay focused. 22 years spent anticipating weekends and freedom. Now here I am, and every day is a weekend. I am lacking the ability to make this time count; to remain constructive. Tapes and notebooks piled up next to the computer. A gaping hole in the pit of my stomach. Feeling missed and missing.

“Car” Audio Tape #2
“I’ve left Louisville and I crossed over into the central time zone. I’m about an hour outside of Indiananapolis. If Ohio was mostly empty farmland, and long gaping flat fields, and if Kentucky was lush green rolling hills of trees, Indiana—to this point—would reside somewhere in the middle. The road, Interstate-65 North, is interspersed with nice tall trees that loom over the highway, and then tall grass like a tuft of hair coating the countryside. The blades are tall and thin and stick straight, enough so to comb your fingers through as you drive by. I’ve passed some coal trucks, also heading north. I can only imagine that they too are coming from Kentucky. Coal plays a rather large roll in Kentucky’s economy outside of a metropolitan area like Louisville. This morning I was really saddened by having to leave. I think I would’ve liked to have staid longer. I don’t think, since Burlington, Vermont, have I seen a place where the people—and I should preface this by saying that not all the people in Louisville are genuinely candid and friendly, there are areas where I wouldn’t venture on my own. Just like any major city it has some seedy parts where the socio-economic level dwindles…but the areas where I was spending my time yesterday were incredible. I think they left me stricken with awe. The pride and the respect that people were showing me and the general sense of adulation that they had for their hometown… I mean, like I said, not since Burlington have I really seen a city that wears its artistic and cultural pride on its sleeve like that. I guess the best way to describe it would be, you walk into a café or you walk into a restaurant, and the walls are just littered with paintings or drawings by local artists. If they have a stereo or a radio they’re playing music by local artists. The appreciation that they have for their own is blindingly apparent when you’re mired in it. I’m sure as I travel, every other city will say something similar, but even as an outsider I think I’ll be able to tell that they’re bullshitting me. I can sense these things. I’ve been to Chicago, around Wrigleyville and Jet’s area and the north shore, the Electrical Audio area near Belmont… even from what I’ve seen firsthand there just isn’t that sense of community. You can’t have that in such a large environment. You can’t have that small town, grassroots, homespun mentality in such a bustling metropolis like Chicago or like… maybe even Austin? I don’t know yet. I’ve heard tons about Austin pride but I won’t say anything about it until I get there. I don’t want to have any biases or subjectivity compromise my thought process. New York is probably my best basis for comparison and New York is just… the artistic movements in New York a heaping pile of shit. There’s no healthy competition. There’s no pride. Everyone is so pretentious. It’s just too big. People are all out to best one another, they’re not grounded. They lose sight of what it means to live in an artistic community. I guess what I’m trying to say is, Louisville touched me and left a lasting impression. I’ve been branded. I don’t think I will ever forget what I witnessed there. It’s hard to believe I’m already talking like this after four days, and maybe it’s because I’m experiencing it alone, but I think I’m coming away from my first destination with a sense of anticipation for what lies ahead, and at the same time, a slight hint of remorse because I know as I move out west I might not find another place like it. I don’t know. It’s probably best not to think about it, lest I contaminate my head. I don’t want to go into these other cities with anything less than optimistic expectations of what I will encounter when I’m there. Right now, where I am is about one mile from Flat Rock, Indiana—that hotbed of pop culture phenomenon. Part of me really wants to see a tornado. Part of me wants to see a tornado plop down a mile west of me right now. Part of me wants to be torn and thrown away. That is one deadly storm cloud.”