On the Subject of Fall Cleaning

Yesterday I took on the task of a Fall Cleaning. I know that Spring Cleaning is what most people do but I prefer Fall Cleaning because Fall is the time that things die off and all that. I tend to let trinkets, notes, fliers, all sorts of things of that ilk build up thinking at the time that I will want to hang on to them. It's in my blood, ask my sister. But fall is a good time to let somethings die, that's why it's best to clean then.

When furniture is left idle things tend to accumulate.

The things I found:
6 pairs of white tube sox
$3.25 in change
notes and memorabilia from various woman I met over the past year
Lots and lots of dust
A bag of gift wrapping bows left in the closet from the previous tenant
CDs over a decade old with outdated Linux programs
Old desktop, old harddrive in that desktop.

Some things stick with you over the years, move after move. Like that movie about that little wooden toy ship that some how sailed across the world. What ends up making it is most surprising.

A various artist album that my japanese pen pal sent me 11 years ago.
Johnny Thunders shirt that Canadian Dave stole (from Canada)
A flier for a Blanks 77 show dated 1998
Socket set with no matching socket wrench I bought from a yardsale when I was 7

But the most interesting to me was the harddrive. It's been with me, for whatever reason, sense my early days of Linux. We're talking about RedHat before it was FedoraCore. Just like any other avid Linux user it is partitioned with a number of Linux flavors.

I have and external harddrive adapter (via USB) so I was able to search threw a bunch of files from back when I first moved out of the parents house on to 813 Oak st. It was really cool to go over some of the old programming projects I had writen and it was nice to refind some forgotten about music too.

Today I will share with you an account I had written at the time of the incedent about my misadventure to Moscow. Cringingly, I will post it with out editing it at all. It's nice to know that my spelling and typing skills have gotten a bit better over the years.

It's pretty fucking long, so I would recommend just skimming it


==================================
when I was exiting the JFK airport a man whom I was passing asked if
I need transportation in Russian. I told him that I might later.

From there I looked for a place to buy a calling card and I asked if the rest of
my round trip ticket was still good. They said I'd ahve to ask customer service
and the machien vending the calling cards ate ten of my dollars. A man that
worked in some sort of possion at the airport told me it was merly out of $10
cards and I needed to insert another $10 to get the $20 card. His logic was
that when I pressed the button to select the ten dollar card the number ten
would appear indicating that i needed to put ten more dollars in, I kept trying
to point out that when I tap the twenty dollar card button the number twenty
comes up. I didn't feel like risking ten more dollars so I gave up the
argument seeings how it wasn't getting me anywhere. Then I noticed a pigeon
walking around inside the building, I took a picture.

I now faced the fact that I had nothing else to do but find a place to hang my
hat, at lest for the day. I needed to figure out just what I was to do with
myself. I wondered back outside in deep concentration. Suddenly the Russian
spoke to me again in english becuase my Russian was so bad the first time we had

spoke. I told him how I needed to find a calling card so that I could call home
and he let me use his cell phone. The reseption was very unclear but I spoke to
my step-dad, Mike. I let him know that I was in New York and I was OK. After
that the Russian pressed me again about needed a ride. I was more inclined to
take a ridefrom him simply becuase he let me use his phone and I knew cabs were
expensive anyhow. We walked to his car in a near by airport parkinglot. I told
him a little of my story and I got a little of his. He wasn't Russian, but
Georgian. As we were getting to his car I asked how much he wanted for the ride
to what he said was the cheapest place he knew of. He told me whatever I
thought was fair. The closer we got to his car the more I kept thinking of that
one traveling tip I seemed to read about over and over again: NEVER TAKE GYPSY
TAXIS.

I told him outright that I felt susspicious, that no one resolves on what one
thinks is "fair". So I asked him to set a price. He wouldn't. "Fine" I said,
"$20". "My friend," he said, "the normal Taxi would cost at lest $40 to get to
Brooklyn". Then I started to wonder if he was married and had two children like
he said he did because he had no wedding ring. He told me that in Georgia they
didn't use wedding bands, and this may have been true but I had decided not to
trust him. When i first told him that I was feeling suspicious, he told me that

I could of cource trust him and so I offered him my had. It was a quick and
undefined handshake that he gave me. I looked at his car- it was an everyday
Ford... Purple. I wondered if the doors opened from the inside. I declined and
took a normal taxi.

I wanted to go to the comfort inn, and the nice man that was incharge of hailing
cabs for the airport assured me that he could get me there. Of cource once we
were about a mile out the cabbie asked for the address of the comfort inn. I
told him that I didn't know the address and that he knewwhere it was. After all
if he didn't, he should have told the man that hailed the cab and araneged where

to go for me. Well I was being either being scammed or very unlucky because he
said he still didn't know. He sugested the Holiday Inn. $130 after taxes...
For being New York it wasn't totally bad. After all, it came with this nice
wirting desk filled with stationary and stuff. There's also a coffee pot in
the bathroom.
I feel lonesome now, sitting in thehotel room. $130 just to get by for the
night. So as long as I had a ruff over my head and I'd be happy, but they brougth
me here.

I walked around the surrounding naghborhood. It reminded me much of a a given
residential area in Flint. Oh yeah, but alot better. I felt only in danger
because I was about the only white guy walking around, i never been to New York before so I really didn't know what to expect as far as social segeration was concered . I didn't get messed at all, even when I started to play my harmonaca while i walked down the street. Now that I think of it New York is probebly one of the most integrated spots in the world, so everybody is used to seeing everybody else.
I'm gladed I decided to walk around despite the door mans concernse he gave me when I left. I got a chance to see a completely different naghborhood.Like in flint there were many small houses almost built on top of each other. Unlike Flint every two thirds of the houses wasn't either burnt,caved in, or borded up.

It was a nice walk. Saw a new najborhood and now I wathc the sun set over
Queens,or where evere the fuck I am and wiehgt for my friend Rich to show up.
Thank God I know some people here in New York, else I'd have to pay like twenty
bucks just to go to centeral park.
--
Me and Rich went to a near by white castle shortly after he arived. There, the
whole staff was latino and the best english speaker who was also one of the
youngest and by far one of the most beutiful took our order. Rich complained
about white castle food keeping in his cinical charactor. There have never been
any white castles in Flint that I've known of and this was the first time I
actually ateat one. By the time i hadmade it to the 5th and last burger i could see why
people make fun of white castle. So we decided to save it to throw at something.
We got nice and toasted off some 40s of Steel Reserve back at the room at talked
threw out the night. With out knowing it i feel asleep, was I that drunk? One moment I remember watching TV and now Rich is currled up on the floor and I'm face deep in a pillow. I told rich I could share the bed, noticing that my spraw was dominating most of it. I consolidated my self to one portion of the bed and went back to sleep.
It was a slow event wakking up today. Outside was an overcast, it was a dim blue morrning. It's almost noon now, and almost time to check out. Rich was kind enuff to ask me to stay at his place, so I guess we're gonna check out New York today. See what the big deal is.

It was a long day. People here keep to themselves more. And why not? People here are a dime a dozen. There is no need to go out of your way to know somebody because the chance of encountering someone that one would concider to be werth meeting is high just by keeping on with ones own normal rutine, or so I would asume.
We drove down the express way wich seemed to be just more organized but not that much faster than street traffic. On the way watched, as I ussually do when I'm riding shotgun. I watched the senery, building after building of occupied space. I watched the things near to me zip by while the tall buildings in the distance slowly krept by. While driving in a car speed fluxuates and even appears to be different relitive to what you judge it with, but the constant that I can find is speed its' self. No matter what precices measurement of motion, it is true that there is motion. Everywhere I looked i could eventually be, no matter how slowly coming it may apear to be.
All around Richs' car is New York lincense plates (ofcources). There were a lot of local commercial trucks and road repair vehicals that in some way indicated NYC, be it address of “property of”. Rich pops in the new NOFX cd, which was not quit yet out or just recently releced. What dose that do to your head... your opinion when you live in NYC? You see your city in movies, TV shows, the news. I mean I know Mayor Julieoni better than the mayor of grand blanc, I dont even know who the current mayor of Grand Blanc is. Does knowing your city is important change you relitive to knowing that your city is a dot on the map?
We got back to Richs' place. He lived there with his Grandma, who is a very nice lady. Rich's room is much like my sisters. Every spot on the floor occupied by something. To get around you have to look for the lowest mounds with a bowlegged hop, like stepping on stones to get across a stream. A utility shelf holds most of his gamming stuff, among wich is a modified XBOX, that is networked to his PC via samba. A spindel of DVD-Rs each holding anywhere from one to four bootlegs XBOX games. Keep in mind he has not every system but just about every system including the likes of a NEO-GEO. But by far the XBOX has the greatest access to hacked and bootleg stuff after modification among all the other current generation gamming consoles and it was the only one we played all night.
Ahhh, I'm pulled into a gamming rant. We drank a few cups of coffee and played the soon to be released “Enter the Matrix”. A Max Pain type of game done really well. For that breif moment I was happy that Atari put out such a good game, “way to go Atari!” but then I remembered that Atari's name as been bought and sold so many times through out the years that Atati, Atari games.. whatever, has little if anything to do with the company that we all so adore. Infact Infogrames had the rights to do a matrix title for years now (which is probebly why its so well done) and had just recently bought the Atari name. (*cor america effect)
So after playing games for a bit we venture off to see New York. Rich, who was born there originally and moved back about three or more years ago, tends to play more games then get to know his city of residence so we really didn't have set destination besides “go to central park and stuff”. Last night I talked Rich into smoking pot with me if we could find some. He had never smoked before and agreed. So on the way we stopped at a corner store to get a blut wrap just in case. Rich blew is month long streak of not smoking and bought a pack of Newports for something like $7.50 and I got two big ol' cigars.
We caught a bus going to the subway station. It was filled to the brim. Not just of fat, depressed and poor people as I am acustumed but of people from about every walk of life. After a few stops I had the chance to take a seat, and was sitting by a cute Asain girl who was wearing pink and blue Converse AllStars with opposing colored laces. After a while I look to her and say “That's cool, I like that” indicating her shoes with my fingure. She agrees and thanks me for the complement. But the conversation dies there. Pleasant sounding and not rude, but indeed with no disire to continue the conversation. And why not? There's so many people around that the slight moment that we had and the slightly longer moment we could have had are a dime a dozen. Is that why? Or perhaps some people are not as socially out going as others?
A couple stops later the girl gets off and a few after that we do and walk some yards to the subway station. This is the big time here. Every move or TV show that is placed in NYC has a subway scene it seeems. To me this is the most popular subway system in the world and i was about to ride it sitting inbetween a tattooed freak and a pregnet mother of ten on welfare, and hopfully get muged!
While Rich was figuring out the route I called my cousin on a payphone. I told her that I needn't stay at her place because I had Rich's to stay at. But we plained on eating somewhere or something like that later. After all was figured out we swam through a sea of people and peoples, one of which I noticed speaking French, and got to a subway train.

The ads that lined the over head we all at lest bi-lingual. A few having as many as five different languages. I sat in silance, absorbing all around me, while my friend stood across from me. The train would rush along the tracks and the site given from the windows would suddenly brake out of a sheltered station area to expose a vast tundra of man's touch only to crash back into an enclosed area where old faces wereexchanged for fresh faces. I no longer had the jones to make new aquantances, just to sit and watch the ruff tops float by. I kept refering the question “I wonder what it would be like to live there?” to different buildings that I found to be intresting.

I over herd a dispute between two groups of school boys. Two or three were black and the other was an American Irsh kid. From their words one can see their adolecent minds explore what they knew and how to aplie it. Never violent but the whole dispute was over violence. The Irish claimed he could box better than all of the others, and ofcource the others thought otherwise. They both expressed this by evidence that seemingly had little if any relivance to the subject at hand. But that's because it wasn't about fighting at all. It was a learning experince, an excersize for nagatioating with opposition. I could help but think of myself at that age and what kind of sence this would mean if I were them. Like actors playing out a part, their minds acting a part that they could swear is athenticly themselves inoder to figure out who themselfves really is, and who everyone else is. *Like actors rehersing a part to understand their motive.

We finally get to central park. Are sub-mission is to find weed inorder to get Rich high for the first time. This shouldn't be too hard, right? Just look for a guy posted on the street somewhere with a backpack. Could it be that much different from michigan?
We walked down a street that was one of the most memorible and buteafull I had ever seen. It lead to Central Park from the subway station. Apparently some private school had just let out because there were younge girls in uniforms. The kind of uniforms that I thought only exsisted in movies to represent temptful youth.

Central Park is probebly my favorite part if New York. I wonder if I would have been more impressed by the great metropolitain NYC if I hadn't been exposed it it threw modern day media. When we were on the subway I couldn't help but to think that the only diffrence between that and seeing a NYC subway in a movie is actually being there. Central Park, on the other hand, was a truly unique experience. It is a clam oasis of serenity in a city so intese and fast that it has it's own minute. To get the full and true experience I bought a soft pretzle and hotdog from a park vendor. A man, he seemed to be right out of the pages of National Geopraphic article on sherpa, licked his fingures and fished out a hotdog out of the pool of hot water that they were being contained in. He gave me my food with a blaten disregaurd for care and mummbled what I understood to be the price.