Copa Flyer from March 2007

The preceding images and following text compose one of the old Copa bulletins that attendants receive at my Copa shows. I try to make them of interest to a thoughtful listener. They take 1/2 day to create, so its nice to be able to give them a second life here on the blog, since only a handful of people attended that nights show in March 2007. I copied the essay-like stuff below so that it would be more readable.

tonights
copa
thought
___

artist donny smutz is a
local master of surrealism.
his painted world is the place
of dreams and distortions.

in a play, the characters
are often briefly
defined in a short para-
graph at the play’s beginning.
it is here
that an actor will either
gain an affinity or an
aversion to the chara-
cter’s descriptions.

perhaps you have cho-
sen a character for
yourself and have been
assuming its details for
so long that you forgot
that the person you
have become was a
person you chose to be.

or maybe you never
made a choice, and
never defined an ideal
character to assume.

that is unlikely.

our shoes, hair, speech,
temperament, etc., are often
extentions of our desire to be like
an ideal character. if we lose
touch with what we have chosen
to mimic, we might believe the
surreal distortions of what we see
in the mirror, or what we hear
through others testimony about
us.

it is a dangerous thing
to hate or fall too
deeply in love with our surreal
selves-losing touch
with the possibility that we could
have been born in a different skin.
much of what we believe defines us
is assumed
and not to be fully believed, much like
the landscapes within donny smutz’s
vast fictional universe.

___________________________________


How to freeze a man in a bottle:
To freeze a man in a bottle, one must first understand that the bottle cannot easily be
broken out of. Please be very careful when freezing
a man in a bottle, for once placed inside, he may
never escape. Though placed in a bottle, a man may
still function normally, attending school daily or
performing work alongside his peers. However, though his
skin may wrinkle and he may appear to age, his true self
remains within the bottle. Can you match the numbers
with the code letters to figure out the ways to freeze a man
in a bottle?

We could go on and on, but one might notice that
trauma is often involved, tying a man to an
experience and thus freezing him in a bottle.

To unfreeze a man from a bottle, one is sure to be frustrated! The man
inside the bottle must escape my his own will and effort. Often, a man is
released by calling out for help through the upwards pointing opening at
the top of the bottle. It is recommended that the man call out through
the opening everyday, as he is always prone to becoming bottled!

Elation vs. Foresight Correlation Discovered!

Soloman was a wise guy who did a lot of stupid things and then wrote about them. He was skilled in wrapping his poor choices into proverbs that tied consequences into their root causes. It benefits me to read a chapter of proverbs a day, and sometimes better yet, just a few lines a day--so that I can chew on the thought like a cow does cud.

As spring arrives, I must now suggest that we gander upon this scientific correlation: with a high level of elation there seems to be a restriction to our foresight (in terms of consequences) as well as the inverse: with low elation comes improved distance in foresight. This seems to be true in terms of alcohol indulgence, sexual infatuation, high speed driving, and dessert consumption. In the springtime, the temptation to indulge in the moment often overcomes the guiding, conservative mind that helped us navigate the wintertime.

Solomon said that the ant is so wise that he stores away for the winter. I was a touch afraid as winter came that my finances might be stretched thin through February, but had a sense that if I could make it to March that the flow of money would improve. Consequently, my foresight during the fall season stretched all the way till spring in terms of my stores of savings and the restriction of my monetary indulgences.

Now that the weather is warming, however, you may feel a temptation to relax your disciplines.

Lent will be over soon for many folks who are observing some sort of abstinence from alcohol, television, sex, cussing, street-fighting, and televised alcoholic street-fighting with sexual partners who cuss. (There are many ways to observe this playful religious season.)

The purpose in observing the above charts is so that, if you happen to find yourself elated, you may refer to them in your shortsighted state. Its easy to remember pictures--since you probably won't be peering into the distant future through the clearest glass.

Negative consequences sneak up on those who are not looking out for them. Like a lion on the plains, they can be avoided from a distance with little effort. Likewise, when they are close, they require the greatest of maneuvers to evade.

Tom Jones

I dreamed I was lost. I was somewhere in a neighboring neighborhood walking towards my wonderful girlfriend's wonderful house, and was looking at the corner street signs with my head tilted like an inquisitive Labrador. Alongside me pulled up none other than Tom Jones in a sporty, Lexus-like vehicle. He insisted that I step in. I stepped in. He drove me a few blocks and we arrived at his unassuming middle class house. It was made of pale stonework, with bushes lining a walkway that led to an arched entrance. He invited me in to visit with his family.

At first, it was just him and a few of his early teenage kids, 3 or 4 of them, simply hanging out on the sofa, sitting on the floor, and playing old school Nintendo and laughing in the family room. I was impressed with how functional it seemed. Everyone was in such good spirits. Tom was happy in his sofa chair.

Then 3 or 4 more teenagers showed entered the living room. They were older, say 16 through 19 years of age. They were also Tom's kids. It felt like a Stove Top or Sunny Delight commercial. They were bursting with energy, pouring drinks in the kitchen and making sandwiches. It was so festive.

How could a man who's had so many pairs of panties thrust at him for so many years have such a wonderful and functional household?

It was a wonderful dream, and I hit the snooze on my alarm to see if I could spend just a few more moments with Tom and his family, but alas the dream was over.

I was compelled to visit Grimey's record store and purchase Tom's new album, "24 hours", from which I have learned the following things:

1. You have got to get dirty when your digging a ditch
2. You don't send a boy to do a man's job
3. A man who knows how to make baby making music knows how to make babies, too.

When Tom Jones sings, it gives me that rare experience of feeling like my own soul is surfing in the deep amplitudes of his vibrato. This may sound like dry comedy, but its not. You just have to try it for yourself to understand. Pop in "I (Who Have Nothing)" from one of his many greatest hits albums at loud volume in your grandpa's big stereo, and just see if it doesn't compare with one of the most messianic experiences of your auditory life. Then try to match his performance on your own.

My first Tom Jones experience was at a club in the Patpong district in Bangkok, Thailand. While there exist plenty of unwholesome venues in the area where you might observe unimaginable tricks being performed with ping pong balls, there was a place where one could attend without having to follow up with a requisite confessional visitation. It was called Radio City.

The headline act at Radio City was a Filipino fellow who dressed like Elvis and sang Elvis songs. There just happened to be an opener for Elvis, and it was a Filipino fellow who sang Tom Jones songs, accompanied by 5 other Filipino fellows with 2 horns, guitar, bass, and drums. Before that time, I thought that Elvis was the King, but after seeing that Filipino fellow perform the Tom Jones canon, I cannot passively agree any longer with the idea the Elvis should stand atop his throne alone. What Tom Jones can do with a belly full of air stands head and shoulders above anything that Elvis was able to achieve during his Vegas years, and matches the likes of the four Tenors.

Yes, I may come to be greatly hated for making this daring argument. The time has come for truth to shine, however.

I have met Tom Jones, in my dreams at least, and I have seen the Filipino version of Tom Jones perform. I can therefore say with certainty that he is a fine man to whom one might only appropriately react by thrusting panties just as you might be compelled to photograph a beautiful sunset or bow before an bright, white-winged angel.

Corruption

The blue lights were clearly visible in my rear-view mirror today, so I pulled to the side of the road. My tags had expired a month ago.

I hoped that the officer would give me a warning, and let me take care of the problem A.S.A.P as I handed him an envelope containing the renewal papers that I had resting inside the driver's side door. This was what had happened almost exactly one year ago, and the officer sent me on my way with a reminder to "get those taken care of." It was obvious that I was getting around to it, but, as you may have heard before, the law is the law. I was granted a 'non-moving violation'. It will amount to about $50 of stupid tax.

Something struck me about last year's experience with the officer who let me go with just a warning versus this year's officer, who stuck me with a fine. Now that I have been fined, I will change. It costs too much to stay the same, even if it amounts to just $50.

Many years ago I was given a ticket for a 'California stop', which means that I rolled slowly through a stop sign. It cost me $110. At the time it took me 2 1/2 days of work to recuperate. Believe you me, I never roll through stops anymore. That silly ticket left a branding mark in my brain. But last year's grace experience didn't change me. This year's will.

I ran in-school suspension for 4 years at a middle school. As I escorted students to my dim room designed for punishment, I would encourage them, stressing that "consequences are good. They keep us from becoming monsters. They force us into humility, and if we apply what we learn, we never have to pay stupid tax again!" Every once in a while I get to eat my own words.

As I sat in my Honda, waiting for the officer to run my plates, I thought about how many initiatives the city has to pay for. I stared at the asphalt and saw how it buckles in places, and realized that my very destination at the moment was a community center gym that costs a mere $2/visit. I imagined the officer being given his traffic assignment- held accountable for how much money he is able to collect every month, which filters its way through to the county budget. I was at peace knowing that I live in Nashville, Tennessee, and not Tijuana, Mexico, or some other place where I might have to pay the officer with something more costly. I was glad that this officer wasn't going to grill me beyond what was lawful, and in turn, that he actually enforced the rules as they are meant to be enforced. As a result, I will no longer be the jack-ass who drives around with outdated tags.

Corruption makes monsters. The application of order and civility makes a pretty good neighbor. Of the two options, I hope to apply the latter without resentment.

Now I must write that blasted check to the county.