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mzamyman
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Name: matt
Country: United States
State: Oregon
Metro: Portland
Birthday: 4/7/1981
Gender: Male
Interests: zoloft, zoloft, zoloft!
the ice on my wrist.
Expertise: 1. dropping nah-ledge on ya
2. mariokart
3. teaching english
Occupation: Education/training
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
AIM:  mzamcatlc
AIM:  ih8zoobomb
Member Since:
6/13/2004
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| so and so, so and so, from wherever, wherever
i ride the max out to gresham three days a week. inevitably, i have to ride it back to portland three days a week. yesterday, on the train platform, i bumped into the seven-foot drama teacher from work. his bike makes mine look like one a bear might ride in the circus. we said hello and began idle conversation for what i thought would be the duration of my trip.
the seven-foot tall drama teacher is an aspiring actor who goes to auditions for commercials and things, hoping his height will land him a part. for now, he's an elementary school drama teacher. of course, he and i standing near one another is beyond comical. i mean, the guy is well over a foot taller than i am.
silence on the train doesn't bother me, but i naturally assume that it bothers other people. so, when he was finished talking about a papa murhpy's pizza commercial, i said something about something else. and then i mentioned some time when i did something that sort of dealt with something one of us had said earlier.
when i board the train, i put my little blue cycling cap on the rack and hang my front wheel on it. then, i sit in one of the seats designated as for the elderly or disabled. i stay pretty aware of the other riders and--following the bus rules of the middle school where i used to work--i always give up my seat to anyone older, younger or more deteriorated than myself.
but yesterday, i guess i became too caught up in my idle conversation about whatever it was about. the train grew crowded and i heard a small accented voice ask me, "what's wrong with you?" i interpreted the question as more of a statement, like, "get the hell out of my seat." i immediately stood and offered the seat the gentleman who was pointing out my youth and health.
the man was old, drunk and desperate. he sat next to the giant drama teacher, took a much needed breath and began speaking to me. he had no top teeth and had horrible breath. there was a light red ring around his lips and a red line down his chin. i couldn't tell if it was dried blood, wine or just a kool-aid moustache. regardless of what it was, i was bored with talking to the drama teacher and chose to listen to the old man. he thanked me for moving and slowly extended a fist, offering daps. daps would ensue three or four times in the next few minutes.
there are many russians in east portland, and his accent sounded russian to me. "what is your perspective on love?" he asked me. i told him i would have to think about it--that it was a deep question and would require a lengthy answer. he had small blue eyes that twinkled behind emerging tears. he stared into my eyes, awaiting a better answer, but i just didn't have one.
"i know true love," he pleaded. "people asked jesus, 'who is your father?' and he told them, 'god is my father.' 'then, where is he?' they asked. 'my father an i, we are one!'"
his voice rose and his eyes welled as he again stared at me. i felt he was waiting for me to respond, so i told him, "i don't know what to say to that." i had just finished a day of teaching third graders and didn't have quite the energy for that manner of conversation. still, my empathy kicked in and, smelling alcohol on his breath and the tears in his eyes, i did all i could not to make him feel bad. but really, i didn't know what to say. he extended his fist and gave me daps. he asked me, "what is a church?" i didn't know how to answer.
the drama teacher chimed in and asked the old, drunk russian man where he was headed. on the train platform, he was telling me a of a new tim robbins movie in which the story of jesus is dissected in three chiding contemporary stories. certainly, he was also made uncomfortable by the conversation. still, the man didn't answer, but asked me again about my perspective on love.
true love for that man was loving jesus. it made me think of a larry david rant in which he says that loving another man, jesus or otherwise, seems kind of gay. of course, i wasn't going to share those sentiments with that guy. the look on his face was too sincere, too real.
the drama teacher patted me on the shoulder and, with a grin, wished me luck on my ride and then got off the train at 60th. at the same time, the old man was talking about st. peter, but began trailing off. my stop approached, so i reached out my hand to the old man and told him it was a pleasure to meet him. we shook hands, dapped one last time and then he opened his arms to hug me. i gave the guy a hug, rushed to get my bike down from the rack and left the train.
on my way to get a haircut, i felt that conversations like the one i had just had are ones that make people attend church, find jesus and preach on the max. not me. at least, not anytime soon. striking and memorable nonetheless.
-matt
"
And I'm reminded of the time that I was blinded by the sun.
It was a welcome change from the sight of you hanging
like a willow off the arm of yet another visionary
prophetess east van punk."
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| introduction
may i introduce you to:
white lightning. aka, the fastest bike in portland. aka, my shit. aka, the pit of your envy. aka, what i've been doing for a couple months. like falling in love, my mind has wandered away from me. i am on a fucking pedestal. i have. . .arrived. talking shit? no way. i am absolutely serious. realer than magic. in charge, like baio. fresh, like will smith.
i've also been making stencils. and i am still a full-time graduate student.
later, i will tell you about babbi minfrankmen, who sells books and recordings and always puts the hydrant out.
-matt
"who be first to catch this beat-down?"
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| circle your answer
hey girl, how's your math? 'cause i just did some calculations and found out that me + you = a good time. you wanna get together and check my answer?
i am the shit!
-matt
ps-- "gave up my pimp license, and flipped my whole freakin' script."
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| the spirit catches you and you get crunki was talking to a friend recently and we got to talking about teeth. hair grows, finger nails grow, skin regenerates. but you only get two sets of teeth. and once that second set is gone, you're outta luck. anyway, she said that she had crashed her bike when she was in high school and knocked out her four front, top teeth. her family couldn't afford to have fakes made, or implants implanted, so she had to go to school and everywhere else with a four-tooth gap in her smile.
she was talking to her grandmother on the phone, and her grandmother told her something interesting. apparently, when my friend's mom was an infant, she kicked her mother, my friend's grandmother, in the mouth, knocking out two of her front teeth. within six months, two new teeth found their way through her gums, completing her full set. by some stroke of luck, or genes, my friend's grandmother had an extra set of those teeth.
well, around six months went by, and my friend noticed three new teeth growing through her gums. they're still there today. she had a fourth made and implanted years ago. but, hey, three outta four ain't bad. and, while she tought it was freakish, i assured her that it was, indeed, really cool. she calls it the shark gene.
so, i got interested in this apparent shark gene. i started doing some research and found that it does occur every once in a while, though very rarely. like, one in hundred of millions. but, i also found out about one special case of the so-called shark gene. Abraham Lincoln. and what an amazing story it is.
these pieces of his biography are, for some reason, not well known. but they date back to his first attempts at politics. as we've heard, he grew up dirt poor, in a one room house, with a mud floor. he would occasionally walk upwards of 20 miles just to get a new book. he attended school for no more than a third grade education, yet disciplined himself with the a university curriculum. as a child, no matter how underprivileged, was known for his ear-to-ear smile.
when honest abe was 23 years old, he ran for a position on the illinois general assembly. he had hopes of expanding transport and trade on the sangamon river. that is, until his campaign brough him to the route of that very river. the steam tank of a steamboat exploded and spooked his horse onto two legs. lincoln was thrown from his horse and landed face-first into a rock. the rock knocked out around half of his 32 teeth and chipped most of the rest.
with no teeth and danger in the river, lincoln dropped out of the assembly race almost immediately. he traveled to new salem, where he ran a general store and subsisted on oatmeal for three meals a day. he spoke to no one. he wasn't married and had few friends.
around two years after his accident, the back of lincoln's gums, inhabited by shards of his molars, began to hurt. within a week, the remaining pieces of his adult teeth were falling out daily. and, sure enough, new teeth were budding. within a month, half his mouth was speckled with white. and, within three months, new teeth were growing throughout his mouth. after six months, lincoln had grown and entire third set of teeth. apparently, the shark gene was strong with him.
eight years, later, lincoln won a seat on the state legislature. and, a few years after that, he passed the bar. he soon met mary todd, who would become his wife. he won the presidential election of 1860. shortly before his assassination in 1865, he was recorded as saying that he would have still been a general store clerk had it not been for his miracle third set of teeth. no emancipation proclamation, no transcontinental railroad and no gettysburg address had lincoln not bee one of the few people in the world blessed with the shark gene.
of course, after years of embarassment and silence, lincoln never again got used to having a full mouth of teeth. so, he never really smiled. i was actually able to find only one image of lincoln with a smile on his face.
after a tale like that, isn't it refreshing?
-matt
"be excellent to each other. and, party on, dudes!"
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| word of the day: alleviate
"new music tuesday" consisted of around 300 tracks. it was, to say the least, a doosie. aside from the time i was driving a bus today, i walked everywhere else. i didn't sit on my bike, even once today. walking gave me a chance to wear headphones.
i had problems with asthma today. i'm chalking it up to stress and frustration. like, the wheezes my body makes when i breath are truly a way for my body to scream, like a lobster in boiling water. in a sense, the difficulty i have when trying to breath makes me feel like i'm drowing. at least, i'm currently treading water, and i'm getting tired. i need to find something buoyant to hold on to. or, maybe i should just float on my back for a little while, and let my legs rest. maybe i need to get some sleep but, at the same time, get my head out of the clouds.
and again, that's the story of my life. get more sleep, but don't dream so much. that's at least as romantic as WWII drama.
-matt
"desperate times call for desperate measures. i wanted you, i wanted these treasures."
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