Category Archives: punk
Bound For The Floor
Last time with Helene Troy: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/03/the-denial-twist/
Helene struggled with the oppressive New York City August heat. Sun bore down on the summitt of her friend Sadie’s Hell’s Kitchen apartment building. Slipper Socks Medium’s band practice had become tiresome. Helene glared at Darcy and Mara who lit fresh cigarettes, drank beer and talked about their plans for later.
“I’m done, girls. We got three songs down and a set list for Thursday’s gig.”
Helene unplugged her guitar. Still gripping the instrument, she walked to the chipped brick edge of the roof and peered over the intersection of 48th Street and 8th Avenue. Sweat pooled over her tired hands. She watched construction workers getting off from work walk into Social Bar. Sadie’s voice carried over her shoulders.
“From up here, this damn city actually looks possible doesn’t it?”
Helene refused to turn around for fear of crying in front of her band mates.
“Sade, this place is two different towns. One’s for the people who are trying to live here and the other one’s for the people like us, who are dying to live here. New York’s going to belong to me if it fucking kills me.”
Car horns bounced off building walls. The whistles of policeman directing afternoon traffic tweeted throughout the warm air. Helene saw a green, yellow and red Nathan’s hot dog cart.
“Come on Sadie. Let’s make those other two pack up our stuff. I’ll get a couple of hot dogs and we can work on the the lyrics we didn’t get to earlier.”
****blogger’s note****
This is a new story episode of my work in progress, The Ballad of Helene troy. You can find the rest of the story, so far, here http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/ This 250 words is part of the reworked beginning. It kind of sorta goes with this week’s “Location” writing prompt from Write On Edge – http://writeonedge.com/2012/05/red-writing-hood-location-location-location/
Today’s song is really good. It’s the kind of thing Helene would listen to and play. Local H was an underrated 90s era band with great guitar work and depressing songs. Here’s the riff heavy lyric downer, Bound For The Floor. Perfect for this installment.
100 Word Song – Revolution
I know every week I say that we’ve had the greatest, most creative, bestest one ever of all-time. But this time I really mean it. The entries for Tracy Chapman’s Telling Stories were tremendous. Marian, Cam, t, frelle, Tara, Vic, so many of you went above and beyond the pale with creative takes that required a lot of thought and editing. My favorite belonged to my longtime friend Barbara of The Purple Moose Gazette. She lives in another country, Alaska. Since she has to share space with Sarah Palin and she can see Russia from her house, writing is a heck of a great way to manage her stress. Barbara and I have been doing these 100 word deals with www.velvelverbosity.com for almost two years. Her writing is terrific. Her 100 word song : http://purplemoose.kenaiwriter.net/2012/05/09/telling-stories/ was cute, poignant and very deep. I couldn’t stop reading. I asked her to pick this week’s tune and since Barbara is a touch older than me, I wondered if we’d recognize the decade. She chose The Beatles’ Revolution. Our souls will be saved this week. Please go see The Purple Moose Gazette. It’s a great place.
Everything you need to know about 100 word song is located here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/100-word-song/
You have seven days from right now to play Revolution. Another song will be posted at 7pm Atlanta, Georgia time next Tuesday.
We check in with Helene Troy for my 100.
A peanut butter bagel and two more aspirin staved off her hangover. Helene shuffled into the Soho loft flanked by her bandmates. She expected trouble after her drunkedn behavior the previous night.
“So, let me have it.”
The manager sat behind a small wooden desk studying his laptop. Helene could feel Sadie and Mara creep behind her like scared children. She chewed on her left cheek while approaching him. The manager grinned while handing a Village Voice newspaper to Helene.
“Read the headline.”
Helene’s sharp green eyes couldn’t contain her surprise.
“The Helene Troy Revolution Has Begun, Count Us In!”
Your 100 Word Song for this week is from Barbara at The Purple Moose Gazette. Here’s The Beatles’ Revolution:
Woman
Your vow isn’t I do, it’s I am. You conquer me with a daily battle cry to be a superior lover, friend, and mother to our children. Woman, I’m awed by your allure.
****blogger’s note****
My wife, The Bobina, refuses to let me buy her a mother’s day card, so I wrote this instead. It isn’t gross or too much information so you all should be big boys and girls and get through it. I love you Bobina.
It’s only 33 words because today is trifextra day – http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/05/trifecta-week-twenty-six.html If I don’t talk to you all tomorrow, werd to you and your mothers. This song rocks and its fitting to my bad ass wife. Break out your air guitars and have a good time. Here’s Wolfmother’s Woman -
Through Glass
Last time with Helene Troy: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/09/100-word-song-telling-stories/
Narrow lanes of red and purple scrapes stretched over the knuckles on each of her fists. Tiny specks of asphalt crumbled out of her cupped hands as she moved her thumbs over her palms. Helene picked up the bottle of beer and swigged from its settled brew. She sat it down and turned to face Sadie. Morning sunlight bounced off the glass patio door. She blinked and caught her reflection through the glass then looked away feeling shame.
“Leney, I think you hurt your hands when you fell out of the cab. You were screaming at the guy to take you to Ramona’s. We wouldn’t let you. You threw your phone at me and Dawn then rolled out of the cab. I think you punched the cab too.”
Helene’s eyes moved back to her patio door reflection. She was twenty-four but looked older. Out of nowhere, Mara appeared in the door’s threshold holding the two gray and white kittens.
“Helene, I didn’t know you were a crazy cat lady! What are their names?”
Mara’s interruption caused Helene to turn around in her chair and resume drinking. Sadie took one of the kittens and the two women stood around Helene’s chair admiring them. Helene finished the beer.
“Tegan and Sara. The one with white on her belly is Tegan. I got them from the Bodega on the corner. They’re seven or eight weeks old.”
Helene put the empty bottle on the table and stood. Her knees buckled as she tried to steady herself. She clenched her fists and breathed through pain and dizziness.
“I’m sorry. I’m just so fucking sorry. I don’t know why I lost it last night. I could say Ramona’s a bitch. I could say I was nervous. But I think…..”
She stopped as the words made her gasp and start to cry. Large tears fell from her sharp green eyes. Her head pounded from her hangover. Sadie handed one of the kittens to Mara and extended her arms. The two women hugged. Helene cried into Sadie’s left shoulder. Mara walked back inside with the kittens and closed the patio door. Sadie patted Helene’s long brown hair.
“Leney, other than whatever’s going on with you and Ramona Gallery, I think you made it out of last night alright. Jackson punched Case in front of a bunch of reporters right after you got seriously drunk. The Golden Apples fucked up a lot more than you did last night.”
Helene couldn’t stop crying. Through sobs and sniffs she caught her reflection again. She grit her teeth and swallowed, hard.
“Sade, I look like shit. Let me get in the shower, take care of Tegan and Sara, then we’ll go see the manager and get paid. You and Mara can help me buy a new cell phone.”
Sadie smiled and touched Helene’s left shoulder as she walked back inside the apartment. Helene opened and closed the patio door but refused to look through the glass.
****blogger’s note****
This is a new story episode of The Ballad of Helene Troy. You can find the rest of the story, so far, here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/ This is also patterned to the Write On Edge prompt for detail: http://writeonedge.com/2012/05/red-writing-hood-advancing-the-plot/
Today’s song just fits the story. It’s a little lame but there’s a point here. The lyrics are perfect. Here’s Stone Sour’s Through Glass.
100 Word Song – Telling Stories
There were some outstanding 100 word singers this week. Some of you made a Deadman’s Gun a metaphor for storms, real and imagined. Others put some muscle into thetheir and kicked some ass with the literal interpretations. I dug the testosterone-filled writing. As usual with 100 word song, we like to change course each week. After Cameron’s risque piece and subsequent song choice I went over to k and her humor mixed with tension mixed with drama of her Lillie story http://bloggitwrite.blogspot.com/2012/05/petersons-gun-lillie-and-100-word-song.html?spref=tw The interpretation of the song was perfect for the story and it’s emotional impact. k’s musical choices are a lot difefrent than mine so Leeroy and I were surprised at her excellent and quite versatile 100 word song pick – Tracy Chapman soulful “Telling Stories”. You 100 word singers should shine with this one.
Back to Helene for my 100:
Last time: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/sour-girl/
Helene glared at Mara then turned and walked to the patio. She cringed while sliding the door open. Sadie followed.
“Leney, ignore Mara. Our manager wants to meet today so we can get paid for last night and talk about the next gig. I know you got me the job with Ramona. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
Helene sat in the white plastic chair. She yelped in pain opening the beer. It spewed over the concrete. She raised her bare feet onto the white plastic table.
“You’re welcome Sade. Now, why are my hands are killing me?”
Everything you need to know about 100 word song is located here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/100-word-song/
I’ll see all of you through the week. Make sure you get your entries into Leeroy by next Tuesday at 7pm Atlanta, Georgia time. Here’s Tracy Chapman’s Telling Stories.
Sour Girl
Last time with Helene Troy: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/05/07/hit-rock-bottom/
The room contained an unusual smell of cleanliness. The music equipment Helene owned but stored with her band, was now stacked in the middle of the living room floor. Helene looked at two electric guitars, one acoustic guitar, two amplifiers, microphones with stands, guitar stands, a power mixer, jacks and cables.
“Damn, I really am a solo artist, now.”
Walking to the refridgerator, she tried to remember the past several hours. She grabbed a beer then looked in a cabinet for aspirin to stave off her headache. The door to the apartment opened. Helene heard two familiar voices.
“Sadie! Mara! What the hell? I’m naked!”
Helene dropped the bottled beer and dove behind the kitchen counter to hide. The unopened beer rolled on the hardwood floor toward Sadie.
“Sorry Leney. We thought you were still sleeping. It’s just me and Mara. We brought your stuff over and then we decided we all need to talk.”
Determined to find some clothes and answers, she stood and used her right hand to motion her band mates to turn their backs. They responded with eye rolls.
“Leney, we’ve seen you naked. The bags with your clothes from last night are on your bed. Dawn brought them by earlier.”
Helene glared at them as she stomped to her bedroom. The dress Ramona loaned her was balled up on the bed next to the bags she took to her concert. She opened a bag put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt then rejoined them.
“Jackson’s girlfriend was here?”
Mara stood against the closed front door looking away with her arms crossed. Sadie pulled her medium length, unwashed ginger hair back into a ponytail with an orange hairband. She handed Helene the aspirin and beer.
“Leney, Dawn’s quite the enigma. She’s really sweet and thinks the world of you. She helped us save your ass last night.”
Mara muttered.
“Sweet girl meets sour girl. That should be the opening track on your CD, Helene.”
****blogger’s note*****
This is a new story episode of The Ballad of Helene Troy. You can find the rest of the story, so far, here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/ It’s also in response to Trifecta Writing “enigma in 333 words” prompt. http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/
Today’s song is from Stone Temple Pilots. It fits in feel, lyrical content, and style to this episode. Here’s Sour Girl.
Hit Rock Bottom
Last time with Helene Troy : http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/30/sex-on-fire/
Helene woke to the chill of the bathroom floor on her bare back and the tickle of little tongues on her damaged fingers. Her head ached from whatever happened over the past few hours. Throwing her cell phone and falling out of a cab were only flashes of recall. She pulled the grey and white kittens to her chest then placed them in front of their food bowl.
“Oh God, what did I do?”
Helene gagged from thoughts of what her thriftless drinking may have done. She pushed sore hands through matted hair and walked naked into the living room.
****blogger’s note****
This is a new story episode of The Ballad of Helene Troy. It’s back to where we left off as opposed to the reworked opening. You can find the rest of the story, so far, here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/
My friend Velvet is back after a four month hiatus with her 100 word meme http://www.velvetverbosity.com/2012/05/06/100-words-treasure-hunting/ word is “thriftless”. I changed worthless to thriftless and rejoined my old stomping ground at vel’s place.
I’ve been wanting to use Dandy Warhols Hit Rock Bottom for a long time. When I wrote this weeks ago, I realized it would be perfect for first 100 words of this chapter.
The Denial Twist
Last time with Helene Troy: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/26/animal-ive-become/
Helene and Sadie put down their guitars and walked under an eave to savor the small amount of shade on the building’s roof. Helene placed her black notepad filled with lyrics and chord changes on her lap. They pressed their backs against the air conditioning vents and exchanged “ahhhs” at the coolness. Sadie took her phone from her jeans.
“Darcy and Mara have been gone for almost an hour and a half. What do you think? Boys or weed?”
Helene closed her eyes so Sadie couldn’t see her anger seething.
“If I had any money, I’d bet they ran into boys with weed. At this point, if they bring back bottled waters and a contact high, I’d be satisfied enough to not kill them.”
Their laughter was interrupted when the large, heavy metal door connecting the stairs to the roof flew open. It sounded like thunder rolling over the top of the building. Darcy and Mara were giggling.
“Slipper Socks Medium is drinking its lunch and smoking its dessert!”
Helene rolled her eyes at Darcy’s behavior. She leaped to her feet and walked to her mischievous band mates.
“Lovely Lady Leney, this is yours!”
Darcy handed Helene a small bottle of Bushmills whiskey. It was the cheapest sold in New York City Bodegas. She shook her head, unscrewed the bottle and took a large drink. Mara reached inside her sleeveless vest and pulled a white marijuana joint from the inside pocket. She put her right hand on her hip and held the joint with pride in front of Helene.
“Here’s the inspiration Slipper Socks Medium needs to kick this practice’s ass and be ready for our gig Thursday night.”
Sadie picked up Helene’s notepad, stood and walked over to all three women.
“Leney and I worked on two songs while you two were getting high. We were already inspired.”
Helene extended her left arm and pushed away Mara’s distraction. The guilt she felt questioning the band’s future burned away in the summer heat.
This is a new story episode of The Ballad of Helene Troy. You can find the rest of the story, so far, here: http://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/ This more of the reworked opening chapters. I modeled this for an entry into Trifecta writing 33 word “thunder” prompt. http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/
Today’s song is perfect, thematically. The White Stripes The Denial Twist works lyrically here too. You’re seeing Helene’s realization that the band is a dying relationship. Here’s the great Jack White and The Denial Twist.
Rock and Rock High School
I’m one of those rare suburbanites that you will never hear nor read, bash teachers. My dream job, other than published author, is to teach English composition and reaching skills to grade school children.
My kids stay annoyed at me because I ask them for details of their school day. Usually I’m met with “I don’t know, stuff, whatever” but I still ask. My teenager will let me know about tests or difficult assignments or teachers with whom has issues. My two younger ones, aged eight and seven, give me as few nuggets of information as will get them a juice or a chance to watch television.
My seven-year-old, known in this blog as The Goose, is my favorite child to question. When we’re in the car she’ll drop various bombs like “you know, dad, we should really recycle, it saves the Earth” or “Did you know you eat horribly, dad, and if you want to live longer you should diet and exercise more”. She’s very blonde, very blue-eyed, and so cute, that this stuff rolls off my back like an Olympic breaststroking duck.
It sometimes bugs me that she takes everything her first grade teachers say as gospel. The words of her mother and I often fall on deaf ears but if someone at her school tells her something, it’s gold. I appreciate her school but I’d like for them to help her mother and I out, some. I’m offering some ideas for them to drop on my daughter, and if my eight-year-old and teenager’s teachers are reading, their minds, as well.
1) Cleaning your room, spotless, where mommy and daddy can eat off the floor, will save ALL of the planets. I’ve never invited any of you to my house and the reason, is because my three girls’ rooms often look like the aftermaths of Taylor Swift and Big Time Rush poster tornados and dirty clothes hurricanes. Listen, public school teachers, put room organization on your agendas.
2) When your parents make you dinner or take you out to eat, it IS NOT optional as to whether you devour the food. My youngest kids think mealtime at home is open mike night at the Apollo meets merger and aquisitions negotiations on Wall Street. No, fools, eat your food. And stop asking for snacks two minutes into dinner. For my sixteen-year-old daughter I would like for her high school to offer a Home Ec class where she learns that while eating out, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu and eating half of it IS NOT OKAY. Dad’s wallet is light these days, kid.
3) Going green is great AT HOME TOO. The amount of waste in water, toilet paper, garbage, and other various odds and ends at our house is pretty alarming. Listen, could I take two minutes off my showers and conserve on the terlet paperz too, yes. But you should see these girls. They talk about their Earth Day type studies from their school then come home and make our footprint the size of a New Jersey landfill. Don’t get me started on televisions left turned on while they go outside or run upstairs to talk to their friends on the phone. Oh, and that basement light that I have to turn off everynight at 10pm because they always forget? Yeah, get on that kids’ schools.
4) Why there isn’t an economics class that’s mandatory for all children starting at the age of five is beyond me. But I think those moments in stores when out kids start saying “I want that” or “Can you by this” or “I saw this on tv, can I get it” can be brainwashed out of them? Come on schools, help me teach these kids the value of a dollar. If you tell it to them, then my job at home becames cake.
5) There needs to be a rock and roll 101/music appreciation class for the good music we, as parents, know and love. I’m fighting the good fight at home trying to shove The Clash and The Ramones and Radiohead down my children’s throats but imagine if the school opened their days with Imagine by John Lennon? Our kids generation would be so much better than us. This needs to happen at the high school level. My teenager’s Taylor Swift obesession has got to end. Making her know who the New York Dolls were is a great start. T.Rex class starts at 9:30am
Feel free to add your own classes or trades the schools could indoctrinate into our children. We’re all in this together, parents. Neurotic, over-tired fist bump from me.
Today’s song had to happen. I haven’t played the Ramones in months. Here’s Rock and Roll High School. Break something and dance.
Hit it Marky!
