Slackjaw's Forum

We fired our real estate agent yesterday. Just wasn’t working out. Call me crazy, but if I tell you that I want to put my house on the market in a week, you better be involved in making sure that happens. You better have a plan. You better give me a call to make sure we’re gonna make the deadline, or offer to mow the lawn, or show me a copy of the flier you plan on distributing, or just fucking say hello, OR SOMETHING. I should be able to look at you and say, “Damn, I can’t believe you’re doing all this work and we’re only paying you 6% of the selling price! YOU ROCK!” But this is not what happened. In fact it’s not even remotely close to what happened. So it was time to move in a different direction. This agent was referred to us from the guy who helped us sell our old trailer and moved us into this new one. Mark is an excellent agent and an old friend from my movie days, and anyone thinking of buying or moving in Seattle should look him up and use him. The company he ...

Tuesday nights have become music night for me. Doug and I have been getting together now for the past few months one night a week, to shake the rust off and remember what it feels like to play loud music with electric guitars and drums--where there’s really no rudder and we just go along where the music takes us. I play a Gibson “The Paul” that I’ve had since the first time Doug and I played together way back in the winter of 1982. When I met Doug, he was playing a crappy drum set that he had covered in hounds tooth contact paper, and had a propensity for falling apart onstage. Soon after one of those unfortunate gigs he managed to convince his parents to buy him the dark red Tama’s that are still the drums he plays today. Close to when we met each other he put a soft-sticker of Evil-Lyn from the Masters of the Universe cartoon that was popular then, on one of his tom-toms, and I put a green-cloth sticker in the shape of an evergreen tree on the back headstock to my guita...

Well it was bound to happen at some point. We knew that the trailer wasn’t gonna work forever, as Ike continues to grow (despite the coffee, cigarettes, and cheep booze we ply him with). This weekend, Sweetie and I found ourselves a new home. Though the idea of packing up the singlewide makes both of our stomach’s hurt, this ball is rolling and it’s not stopping until April 1st, or there abouts. We’re pulling up roots and moving on down the road. I don’t exactly know what that means to this web site—how that’s gonna change stuff. Of course it means that the updates will be fewer for the next six weeks or so. At least until things get a bit more settled and maybe some of the boxes have been unpacked. I will miss the park. I will miss living next to Dewy and Ham, and Heather and Earl. We will still be friends, in that way neighbors are friends, but of course we’ll be loosing the “neighbor” moniker, leaving what we are to each other, somewhat more in limbo. I will miss th...