Rock Rebuttals
Hey Friends!
I ran into some turbulence with the manuscript I recently turned in that requires a fair amount of work in a short span of time. I’ve also had some scheduling moguls throwing things sideways. Did you all know that Mercury is in retrograde? That’s the planet influencing communication, travel, tech you know: life. It’s a real thing (I know what you’re thinking, but yes, it is possible to have a PhD and believe in astrology, though not to believe the moon landing was faked-I hope!) and I have felt the chafe this round with delays and glitches and all sorts of funky shenanigans. The takeaway: all Mercury’s fault, not mine.
So in the spirit of protecting my reserves a little bit, this week I’m sharing something I wrote over a year ago for Medium with a few updates. It also gave me a great excuse to share this gorgeous artwork from Michelle Baker, a friend of mine who is a New Hampshire-based artist, child of rock-n-roll culture doing criminally gorgeous things in the digital art space. Find her on Instagram at @Rockinchalk and check out her amazeballs “Cars and Guitars” gallery series click-click-HERE.
Him: Heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend who, heard it from another you’ve been messing around.
Her: Wow. Really? That’s what this is all about, Greg? Some third-rate intel from, who, exactly? A friend of a friend who got it from a stranger? Wait, did you mean Sharon? Because everyone knows she is crazy jealous of me because of that time we spent the summer at Hampton Beach and I won the Miss Fourth of July Firecracker Contest and got that $100 gift card to Applebees and the cute bartender invited me to go jet skiing with him and not her. So, consider the source, Greg! But seriously, now I’m intrigued. Tell me, what else are you getting from this super savvy, high-level intelligence chain? Stock tips? Government secrets? The cure for diabetes? Maybe instead of listening to gossip that is flimsier than your online cosmetology certificate, you should put some time and effort into this relationship, Greg. Maybe we should go to Hampton Beach this summer. I still have that Applebees gift card you know. I can get us a lot of free drinks. That’s all I’m saying.
Him: Pour some sugar on me!
Her: Eww! Gross! No! Babe, c’mon, we have wall-to-wall carpeting, how would that even work? We put plastic down like serial killers? I suppose the kitchen is an option, but we just got rid of our ant problem. Uggh, just talking about this is giving me flashbacks to when I was six and my family spent a summer at Hampton Beach. I was fishing sand out of my places until February! I’m sorry, babe. Besides, you know I’m doing a month of paleo to slim down for my sister’s wedding. I’m off sweeteners, I told you! I could pour some room temperature carrot juice on you? How about that?
Him: She’s my cherry pie, put a smile on your face, ten miles wide.
Her: Hello! Hi! My name is Lisa. I have a PhD in gender studies as well as degrees in molecular biology and art history. I was a Rhodes Scholar — twice — and recently awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship to do research at the Sorbonne next year. I am fairly confident I speak for most women when I say that we really don’t appreciate being objectified as food objects to satisfy your juvenile oral fixation. Moreover, this kind of overt sexualization contributes to the systemic misogyny upholding patriarchal institutions and attitudes vis-à-vis women’s inherent value and power. Not to mention that it dangerously conflates capitalist desires with sexual ones — women are not made to be “consumed.” The ongoing fetishization of women’s bodies is hallmark of toxic masculinity, which makes you part of the problem. You know what? Here, I’m going to text you the deets to our feminist book discussion group. We’re working through the fifth edition of The Feminist Theory Reader, but I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up. And don’t worry: we don’t bite! Ha! Just kidding, we feast on the tears of white male fragility. See you at seven. Bring snacks — vegan, responsibly sourced, fair trade only.
Him: Baby, talk dirty to me!
Her: You know what I want to do to you? I want to slide your hands all over this hot, wet compost pile. Are those eggshells? *Giggle* Mmmmm. I want to feed you week-old sushi from an unlicensed food “truck” in Tucson. I want to skinny dip with you in an overflowing Venetian sewer drain in August. Ooooh baby! Yeah. Let’s eat each other’s boogers! Let’s run naked through an abandoned junk yard overrun with feral cats! Oh God! Oh Yes! ATHLETE’S FOOT! BODY LICE! NASTY, NASTY TOOTH DECAY!!! YESSSSSSS!!!!
Her: I guess every rose has its thorn.
Him: Well, actually Sharon, not all roses have thorns. There are a few varieties of thornless roses such as the Zephirine Droughin and others that are nearly thornless. What you might not know, Sharon, and it’s okay, how would you, is that a “thorn” actually refers to the sharp, strong protrusion—that means something that juts out or sticks out, if you will—embedded into the plant’s stem. You see, Sharon, thorns are so sturdy they can’t be broken off easily. What you know as “thorns” are actually “prickles,” smaller outgrowths from a plant’s outer layers, also known as the epidermis. You follow me, Sharon?
Her: Yeah. I think I know a prick when I see one. Thanks.
Him: My blood runs cold! My memory has just been sold. My angel is the centerfold. Angel is the centerfold.
Her: Sure, I did some “modeling” when I was in college. My Mom has MS and she needed a new electric wheelchair that the insurance company wouldn’t pay for, those dirty sonofabitches. The economic and class disparities in our health care system are egregious. That’s why I became a community organizer, you know like Obama. I’m with a community action group that works with politicians on the local and state levels to shape healthcare policy. We’re always looking for donors. If you can afford a magazine, surely you can spare something extra to support what is, in my opinion, the most critical problem facing our modern society as well as putting the wellbeing of future generations in peril. You know what? Here, I’m going to text you the deets to our next strategy meeting and also put you on our snail mail, email, text lists so you’ll never miss a notification or update. Oh! We’re staging a public protest Saturday, outside of that sonofabitch insurance company downtown. Since you’re into print stuff, you can pick up supplies to make signs and banners. New guy always gets coffee and doughnuts for everyone, too. It’s BYOBC: Bring Your Own Bolt Cutters. That’s a little activist humor! So, so cool we got reconnected! See you there!
Him: You give love a bad name.
Her: OH YEAH? WELL YOU GAVE ME GONORRHEA AND A TERRIBLE CREDIT SCORE! I never should have let you use my credit card to buy that stupid food truck. Who is going to buy sushi from a truck in the middle of the Arizona desert? Idiot!
Him: Saying ‘I love you’ is not the words I want to hear from you. It’s not that I want you not to say, but if you only knew how easy it would be to show me how you feel.
Her: You’re right, John. Sometimes it does take “more than words” to express love in a relationship. How about, I don’t know, emptying the dishwasher for once in your goddamn life? That hair in the shower drain I’m constantly scooping out? Not all mine! Maybe you can take Kiki to the vet to have her dewormed. Actions matter, John. Right? Isn’t that what you’re getting at here? So would it kill you to “show me how you feel” by ASKING ME ABOUT MY DAY OR LISTENING TO ME WHEN I TELL YOU ABOUT THE FIGHT I HAD WITH MY SISTER, NOT THE ONE THAT EVERYONE HATES, BUT THE OTHER ONE! But please, fine, go ahead, tell me more about how you want me to do that disgusting thing with my elbow you saw on some website once.
Him: Beth, I hear you calling. But I can’t come home right now. Me and the boys are playing, and we just can’t find the sound.
Her: Hey Jerry, it’s Beth, again. I guess you’re still at band practice. Really hope that the Roach Riders find their sound. I know how important that is to you. I wanted to do this in person, but I can’t seem to get a hold of you, and, again, I get it, the art and everything. Anyway, so I’ve been spending a lot of time with my old college roommate, Rachel. You remember Rachel. We rented that condo at Hampton Beach one summer. Yeah. Those were some legit crazy days. Rachel almost got clocked trying to break up a fight between these two girls at Applebees. Bananas. Anyway, the thing is, spending so much time together with Rachel again made us both realize that, well, we’re more than friends. Like, way more, like, in ways that we can’t even put into words. I mean, Jerry, she’s the love of my life. Wow. Holy shit! I haven’t even said it like that to her yet but, yeah, that’s it, that’s how I feel! She’s the real deal, Jerry. She’s my everything. We’re planning to move to Tucson to open a bakery. Hope you understand or, I don’t know, maybe you can get a song out of this? I’m babbling. I actually don’t care! I’M IN LOVE, Jerry! Okay, the moving truck is here. Gotta go. Lose my number. Bye!
Him: If you start me up, I’ll never stop!
Him: (sigh) I should never have dated a Peloton instructor.
Lens Zen!
I had to go to New York for a very quick meeting type trip this past week. I am no country mouse, but New York seems to be in the midst of perpetual civilization breakdown. Granted, I was staying in the Times Square area, which is a lot like Tron meets Mad Max meets Lord of the Flies meets the Barbie movie. I witnessed at least three instances of people screaming (not in the good way) at each other on the sidewalk and am pretty sure I’ll be detoxing from the marijuana contact high for the foreseeable future. Times Square, are you okay? I’m always in a state of slightly heightened panic just walking around that part of the city, but I still managed to keep my eyes open for any sweet lens zen situations. I nearly caused a bike messenger to do a header as I accidentally stepped out into the bike lane to take a few shots of this cool building. It also had a whole “Born in the U.S.A” vibe to it that I thought fit nicely with the overall rawwwk theme of this week’s piece. Enjoy! (But not you, Times Square. I think you need to do some breathwork and a little trauma processing, okay?)
I laughed in so many places, especially with the Tucson shoutout!! I look forward to these stories and narratives every week!! ❤️
OMG so funny Sheils!! I love Mr. Big, Bon Jovi, GNR, Extreme, all those hair bands were amazing. Your friend's artwork was absolutely genius too, loved it!
So sorry to hear tho about the manuscript snafus 😥 Hope it all turns out ok and you can go back to chilling and eating cider 🍩!
But glad you made it out of NYC relatively unscathed. I keep reading Times Square area especially is back to the days of chalk body outlines and broken windows before Giuliani and Bratton cleaned it up. Hope you at least got to see a Bway show?