Fried Gold

I have but a single rule to which I hold my management team. On Wednesday mornings, unless the fucking place is burning down, you leave me the hell alone. No phonecalls, no messages, no pages, nothing...unless of course the place is burning down, and then only if you can't put out the fire yourselves.

So today when my secretary calls me the minute she gets into the office I'm reasonably agitated. But instead of breaking my groove, it slid me right into another one.

See this business is mind numbing work, it absolutely stifles any creativity I once had. Part of the reason I took this job is so that I would have time to write, guess what I don't have time to do? And even when I do have time it takes me so long to get out of business mode I don't get anything written anyway. It's not like I can just flip the switch between the two anymore.

But from 7 o'clock Tuesday night to about 10 o'clock Wednesday morning I am a free man. And I know that doesn't sound like much but it's the most time I have off in a week. In those fifteen hours I find time to think. I find time to write. I find time to find me.

So when I get a phonecall interrupting that...I get reasonably agitated.

But not this morning.

I'm reading, I'm writing, I'm watching movies. The Darkness caught me hard last night, but this morning it's sitting pretty in my back pocket.

I'm walking that fine line between making a decision and having one made for me.

I'm writing the History, and coming to grips with the fact that I'm going to have to name some names...and tell you why I love them.

It's going to be tough, but if you can hang in there, it's going to be one hell of a ride...and it will have absolutely nothing to do with me.

Life Leaves Me Longing For Days That Never Were

Life Leaves Me Longing For Days That Never Were 12:54 AM

I was thinking about it the whole ride back from New Brunswick tonight.

We had a great show, it topped off a horrible day. But when they cued up the intro music to the WRSU News at Ten I started to think about the days of old. And I realized...I miss them, but not just for what they were, but what they could have been.

Don't get me wrong. I loved every minute of it, but I think a good part of what I'm missing is the stuff I missed out on. I don't know how that makes me feel.

I don't know what I could have done differently.

I don't know anything except that tonight...

As I came up the parkway I noticed a blackness swimming from behind my car. It whipped up next to the car and in a second it was on me. The black filled my mirrors and swarmed over the hood of my car. And then it was there...The Darkness. Somehow today it snuck up on me, after being gone...it's back.

This time I saw it coming. I don't know if that will make a difference. I hope it will.

Mon-Daze: Of Porn And Punishment

"And if it takes shit to make bliss then I'm feeling pretty blissfully." - Modest Mouse

Last night I found a CD case with an old Knightbeat label on it, when I opened it up though I found a small cd-rom that I thought I had lost. It had everything I wrote my last year of college on it. I was ecstatic. When I finally dug up the actual Knightbeat show I drove around all night listening to it. It does the soul good.

Last night there was also something strange going on in Hawthorne. No matter which way I went I was surrounded by cop cars and forced to turn around. No one could get through. I had to go the long way home.

But last night's oddities pale in comparison to this morning's.

I'm sitting in the trailer doing some insurance paperwork when Dispatch Matt wanders in.
"Uh, there's a guy on the phone. He wants to rent a bus."
"Ok."
"He wants to film a porno on it."

Needless to say I'm a little surprised. I figure it's got to be a joke, it's got to be The Kid and one of his buddies screwing around and wasting my time. I take the call anyway. (This business is sort of boring.)

"Yeah?"
"Hi, I want to rent a bus to make a film."
"Who is this?"
"Uh...Jon. Jon Stevens."
"What kind of film?"
"Well, it 's a porno, but one of the scenes is supposed to be highschool kids so we need a school bus."
"Sorry Jon, I can't help you."
"You rent busses?"
"Yes we do, but not for that sort of thing."

Now I'm pretty good with voices and I don't recognize that one, but I'm still pretty sure The Kid is behind it all. Something like the time he paged me with the phone number for an escort service, or "borrowed" my car to go egging, or tricked me into getting on line with the wrong funeral procession or...well you get the picture.

"Why won't you rent us a bus?"
"Look. We don't do that sort of thing."
"Money's not really an obstacle here. Whatever you need."
"Look, money doesn't matter. I'm not interested."

I would have hung up right here, but I'm still waiting for the punchline. If it's The Kid he'll say something to tip me off on purpose. If it's someone else they'll at least let on it's a joke. But this guy isn't giving up.

"I mean, you guys could be involved if you want. You know?"
"No."
"You can help pick the girls."
"Sorry. Can't help you."
"You rent busses though?"
"Yeah but not to you."
"Why not?"
"Because I fucking said so, that's why not!"

It hurts how much I sounded like my father right there.

"Well thanks for nothing dickweed."

The guy called me dickweed...what a dweeb. But that's not what bothers me, as I go to hang up the phone another voice comes over the line. Definitely not a voice I know, definitely not the voice of anyone who knows anyone I know. And there was a click...a familiar click. Almost like when we take someone on and off the air at the radio station.

I'm ruling out The Kid's involvement, but it could be just about anyone. I'll find out soon...and when I do. Well, people learn not to play with Palomba real quick.

Of course if that was all that happened this morning this wouldn't be much of an entry. No, no. I stop at 7-11 on my way over to the main office, and when I come out there's a cop blocking me into my spot. He's standing there looking at my car.

"Can I help you officer?"
"This your car?"
"Yes sir."
"Car like this was involved in the commiting of a crime."
"Lots of cars like mine."
"Yeah, but you match the description of the perp too."

He said "perp", it's really hard not to laugh.

"So there's another 6'3" 300 lb. guy driving around in a little black Pontiac...it could happen."
"Hmmph."
"I really have to get back to work sir."
"Where's work?"
"Does it matter?"
"What's your name?"
"Why?"
(He's had about enough of me at this point.)
"What's your name?"
"Palomba."

He sizes me up for a second, writes something down, nods, and gets back in his patrol car. He pulls away.

I have a great deal of respect for cops, and I know they don't know I'm one of the good guys...but come on? Give me a break.

So, I don't know what to make of either one of my odd encounters this morning. Maybe the rest of the day will sort them out. I highly doubt it.

Not So Bad

I'm feeling pretty low, but there isn't any reason for it. So I'm going to ignore it.

Things aren't so bad. I am. There's nothing wrong with the rest of the world, it's just me. That didn't come out right. I don't care though. I'll explain it later.

Today I was driving and these two disheveled California style surfer dudes in a Stang convertible pull up next to me. They're giving me the evil eye hardcore, and I have no idea why. We switch spots a half dozen times before I let them get ahead of me and turn off down a street I wasn't planning on going down. I don't know what those kids problem was, but it bugged me a little.

Not five minutes later I'm on my way into the office when I get stuck behind this old Chevy Cavalier moving quite a bit under the speed limit. The driver keeps pointing out the window like they can't figure out where they're going, and we're moving so slow I start to zone. Besides the old Spidey sense was tingling and I was doing my best to ignore it. It's really just one long road from my apartment to my office and there's nowhere to pass. So I keep hoping this car is going to turn off, but it doesn't. It keeps going and I keep going behind it. There's this girl in the backseat and a guy in a blue dress shirt sitting next to her. The first time I look at the car the guy is talking to the girl, five minutes later when I look at the car again the guy is staring back at me.

I'm trying to figure out if I was so zoned I was tailgating, or maybe I leaned against the horn. But I don't think so. Little boy blue over there was just staring at me for no reason. It kind of pissed me off, but I tried not to stare back. The car keeps putting its turn signal on...and then not turning off. So I ended up stuck behind them for the whole friggin' ride to my office. Something really bugged me about all that.

For some reason I've spent a good part of the day thinking about a burrito I had in May.

Yeah, I don't know, you figure out.

Shaun of the Dead: The Drive For Five

Last night I met Crago and Todd G. in Bayonne because we were going to see Shaun of the Dead in the city. Since none of the showtimes matched up though I did about 90 mph back up the Pike to catch the 10:35 show at Clifton Commons.

When we got out I realized we were only ten minutes from my home turf, so I dragged Todd and Crago back to Jimmy Geez to meet up with Gonzo and Jere.

Shaun of the Dead ended up being a really good movie and I ended up having a really good night in general. It made me happy for a bit.

Anyway...now Gonzo wants to see Shaun of the Dead because we said so many great things about it. So he and I will probably go see it this afternoon. But I'm probably going to end up convincing a bunch of other people they need to go see it, which means I'll probably go see it again.

I don't like going to the movies alone so I don't go much anymore. Means I miss a lot of movies I want to see. But now that I will have seen Shaun of the Dead twice in two days I think I can realistically push to see this movie in a theater five times. Not that I can think of a reason why I would want to do that...but I think I'm going to try.

Anyone want to see Shaun of the Dead with me? Seriously.

Also...there's only ever been one note on the blogspot portion of this blog. Much thanks for that, but I want to see if I can hit five notes. (A pathetically low number, but when you're me you learn to settle).

Ideally I'd like five notes on this entry. They don't have to really be about anything. Just say hello, tell me who you are or why you're here. Anything. I'm just curious to see if it will happen.

So here goes the drive for five...and I'll be back with a real entry later.

Of Last Nights

"I walk a lonely road
The only one I that have ever known
Don't know were it goes
But its home and I walk alone."
- Greenday, Boulevard of Dreams

I spent last night in a bar, with friends. Not best friends, not even friends I see that often, but friends nonetheless.

It shouldn't be such a big deal, spending time with people you get along with, but for me it is. It's an unbelievably big deal. If I could do that sort of thing more often life would be great. I'm not just talking about spending time with the people I was with last night (everybody does have other things to do) but just being out in general.

I don't get out enough. Someone keeps forgetting to unlock the cage.

It was strange being in the Branch last night though. Three months ago I would run into Tim G. in the Branch on Tuesday nights. Since then we've both graduated and moved out of New Brunscik...but still I run into Tim G. in the Branch on Tuesday nights. There are others too, guys who three months ago told me how anxious they were to get out of New Brunswick. How once they were gone they were never coming back to this shithole. How they always hated it. They almost looked at me in disgust when I said I kind of liked the old place. Three months later who is sitting in the Olive Branch? Those same guys. And they all look like they're loving it. They hated the place, and they enjoy it more than I do.

On the flip side it's good to run into people who are doing well. It sounds silly, most people don't like being reminded that they are a failure by hearing about other people's successes. But I'm not like that, I genuinely feel happy for people who do well.

It's not the same anymore of course. See we all used to have one thing in common, but now that's slipping away. We can try and hang on to it, but does anyone really want to? There's so much more out there that a lot of us have yet to find.

I told someone last night they shouldn't worry, they're only 21, they have plenty of time left to decide what they want to do with their life. Shit. I'm only 23. I have time too...just not quite as much of it.

So here's to hanging on to the only thing any of us had in common, and here's to finding new things to have in common with new people, and here's to me...because I have time.

A Shot In The Dark

Monday, September 20th 2004

The Black Cat Hypothesis: The Black Altima 11:07 PM

I was sitting at the light on Wagaraw by the Lincoln Avenue Bridge when a deep sense of foreboding overcame me. I was on my way home to dinner after what had already been a ten hour work day, I knew I was going to be stuck at work for at least another three hours (turned out to be six) so I was in a pretty raw mood.

My anger turned to joy though, I had the spidey sense going so to speak. Someone was nearby. I couldn't tell who though. It's not like that, hell it's probably not even real, but it's certainly not like that.

But that sense of increasing joy quickly turned to one of impending doom, just as a black Nissan Altima crossed my path. Now I don't know why, I don't know how, but I got a gut feeling that the Black Altima had something to do with it all. And something tells me that cars don't give off those vibes, so it had to be someone in the black Altima. Problem was I was so wrapped up in the rapid shift in perception there that I didn't look to see who was in the Altima.

So here's my question...were you in that Black Altima? Because if you were in a black Altima coming off of Route 20 over the Lincoln Avenue Bridge and made a left onto Wagaraw between 5:00 and 6:00 today you almost have a civic duty to tell me and stop me from going mad.

One more thing...you were laughing. I didn't see you, I couldn't hear you, but I could feel you...and you were laughing.

Unless that was just God laughing at me.

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Future: My Story

Sunday, September 19th 2004
Future: My Story 11:10 PM
I think a lot of people whose lives go by too quickly would kill to just slow down a little.

I work too much. I have no life.

I finally decide I'm interested in meeting a girl and then I realize I'm too far gone to even try.

But I can not for a second say that life goes by too fast. Maybe the good parts do, ripping past me at breakneck pace. But everything else drags. Everyday takes so long to be done that by the time it is I can't remember what I hoped to make of it.

It's frightening. It means that life is passing me by too quickly, and I'm just to slow to understand.

Tonight I feel like telling a story.

My story. Their story. Our story.

It's a story about me falling in love, a story about me realizing how good and how bad things can be at the same time. It's one of those strange stories that people don't know what to make of. It's the type of story you have to know about me to understand.

It's going to take a long time to tell, but shit, if you've been here for the whole ride you'll understand that I've already started telling it.

If not, welcome to it all.

Welcome to the beginning of the end.

Welcome to my story.

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

The I'm Not Going Anywhere Box Set: The In Between, The Other Shoe And How It Dropped, Gloria, Still Standing

Friday, September 17th 2004

The In Between 7:54 AM

"So, when are you going to do it?"

"Please tell me you're not talking about what I think you're talking about."

"Not when are you going to "do it", when are you going to do "it"?"

"I fail to see the distinction."

"You've been building up to something for the past ten months. Promising something. People expect some brilliant ending to this all."

"Well they're not going to get it."

"This is a story, stories end. You get to decide how it ends."

"Not yet I don't."

"I thought this is why we did all this."

"This was never about the end."

"Don't tell me it was about the beginning."

"No."

"Then what's it all about then, Alfie?"

"The In Between."

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Thursday, September 16th 2004

The Other Shoe And How It Dropped 10:44 PM

Something is very, very wrong. Something bad has happened. I don't know how I know, but I know.

I felt it tonight, in the car, while I was driving. I was thinking of 10:35. No idea why.

Then at 10:35 tonight I felt it. Something went wrong...with one of them. It could have been me. Something could have happened to me, but it didn't. At least I don't think it did. Something horrible happened to one of them.

So I'll say it again...

I can't stop the rain. I can't make the sun come out. But I can tell you it's only water, and there are worse things than being wet.

I would hope that would be enough, but I'm afraid tonight it might not be.

Remember I'm here if you need me.

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Still Standing 6:24 PM

There are a lot of ways for a truly awful day to begin, but for some reason God isn't happy with just choosing one of these ways for my awful days. He has to create entirely new and extraordinarily painful ways for my awful days to start. Here's an example.

A tree fell on my Cadillac this morning...

My company is hemorrhaging money by the tens of thousands, and although everyone assures me that's normal, it kind of bothers me that this is fucking normal.

Phone lines are acting up, computer is completely fucked, payroll can't count, and just about everyone is holding me up trying to see how much money they can shake out of me. That bumper jack I ordered for the garage two weeks ago? Lost on a truck in Minnesota. My new replacement couch they told me would be here last Friday? Probably not getting delivered till around Halloween. Any little bit of time I thought I would have off anytime soon? Sorry buddy, better put those plans in your back pocket for a bit.

Yeah that's right...and a fucking tree fell on my fucking Cadillac.

I'm lonely, bored, dying for something interesting to do. Poker night? Call it off! Can't find four people with the time to play some cards. Bar? Everyone's too busy, too angry, or just too far gone. Anything? Seriously anything? Not a chance.

Look, look, look, look, look...seriously. I don't know. I just don't know. I'm falling apart bit by bit, not sure of exactly what's going on or exactly what's happening to me. I manage to cajole a little bit of help out of God and it turns out to be the single worst decision I've ever made. Come on! For fucking my sake, when the hell is this going to let up?

I won't even bother asking what else could go wrong. There are still too many other things which could fall apart to even bother tempting God.

It's funny. So many other things could happen to make my day worse. But there's really only one thing that could happen to make my day better right now...and we all know that will never, ever happen.

Did I mention a fucking tree fell on my Cadillac?

Yeah.

So that's where we're at today. And it's still pretty early. Shit. You know what though? It's been a rough couple of days, a rought couple of months, a rough year when you get right down to it. It's all been pretty tough to deal with. But you know what?

I'm still standing.

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

Wednesday, September 15th 2004

Gloria 11:06 PM

In Excelsis Deo...

Entry posted by King Zero note [Add] www E-Mail this entry

When I Was...

Today was sort of chaotic.

I got in from New Brunswick (read: Rutgers) at about 2:30 this morning. I went to my office, because I forgot that I actually had a home. I only spent a little over an hour catching up on paperwork before I booked back to my apartment and reveled in the fact that I now had internet and cable.

I couldn't sleep. So at 6:30 when I was supposed to be at work I was sitting on my wrong leather couch playing Hot Shots Golf on PS2. Then at 8:00 just as I was deciding to reinstate half day Wednesdays and spend all morning jerking around I got tired. So I took a two hour nap, showered, shaved and got to work around 11:00.

Oddly enough things didn't go that badly. I had an hour meeting with my insurance agent about how I could stop my people's healthcare from being cancelled, dealt with an error from a district which will cost me essentially several thousand dollars, dealt with an error from payroll that underpaid one employee (who barked loudlywhen she got her check) and overpaid several employees (Funny, they didn't say anything when they got their checks), found out my missing mechanic has been in jail for the past four days, and the day went on and on.

So here's the thing. None of it really got to me. I had other shit on my mind.

Last night I sat in (or stood in) on the SCRU meeting and got a chance to see some people I haven't seen in awhile. I was proud of all the progress they made, they have something real good going.

Last night was an eye opener for a few reasons. I didn't say goodbye to the SCRU people last year. I really just couldn't bring myself to do it. I just skipped the last meeting completely. I went to the Olive Branch and knocked back a few doubles instead. It was good to not have to go through saying goodbye, but it was also good to get to see everyone again. But that got me thinking...there's a whole list of people I would really like to see one last time. I've actually managed to run into a few of them, a post good-bye good-bye if you would. But there are still so many more. So many more I would kill just to get to see one more time.

Today's Magic Word

Today's magic word is "History"...

As in...

I am...
They are...
We have a...

History.

Yeah.

The Jesus Lobotomy: An Open Letter To God Himself

"I asked God to help me, and look at what he done did." - Lazarus Jones

"I call a person rich when he can meet the requirements of his imagination." - Ralph, The Portrait of a Lady

The other night I was laying in my bed when I was caught by a wicked feeling and suddenly found myself talking to the ceiling. I asked the man upstairs to help me stop thinking about something, and in a surprising twist of events...he did.

I remember saying once that I didn't understand why people would want to forget something, even the really horrible unpleasant stuff. And here I was asking God to help me forget some genuinely fantastic memories. It wasn't the memories that were getting to me, it was the feelings.

See thinking about the things I was thinking about didn't just make me remember the way I felt, it made me feel the way I felt. It was pure torture, to go from feeling so good to feeling so bad for no good reason. The feelings that came with the memories were eating me up, so I asked God to help me...and he did.

But I can still think about the memories, and that's a problem. The memories aren't gone, they are still there, just as vivid as ever. But instead of feeling those feelings when I think about those things my head just gets a funny numbness. If numb is the lack of feeling then this is the lack of feeling the lack of feeling. I know what I should be feeling, but I don't feel it, instead I feel like I'm missing something and that feeling just rattles around inside my head.

I hate it. It's killing me. Not feeling what I should when I think those things makes things as bad as they were in the first place...and I suppose that's how God likes to make a point.

So point taken old friend. Really, I get. Now let's sit down at talk this one over. We really should. I'll bring the cheese fries if you bring the coffee. Really, please, let's talk this one through. I know we can. It can't stay like it is. It can't. I can't live like this. So please...please help me.

"Can you hear me? I don't want this anymore! I want to call it off!"- Joel, The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

The One Thing I Can Do Nothing About

Maybe there is something nice about being at work at 5:30 on a Saturday morning.

When I was turning seven a relative of mine sat me down and told me that the year he was seven was the best of his life. I remember thinking how odd that was, he must have been in his late thirties or forties. A lot of kids would have been enthused by the idea of having a great year, I was more concerned with the fact that if seven was going to be my best year...what the hell was there to look forward to?

Then I turned thirteen, and that same relative sat me down again and told me that the year he was thirteen was the best year of his life. It was then that I realized, like most of my relatives, he was full of shit. But that was ok, I was sort of relieved. For six years I had carried with me the fear that I could have possibly peaked at seven years old...

Anyone who reads this regularly, or knows me at all, understands that I run hot and cold. But that after 22 years I finally had seemed to hit my stride. There was, in the past year, A Palombonian Golden Age. Like any indefinite time period it's tough to nail down when it starts and when it ends. This one is particularly tough to peg because the good and the bad are impossible to distinguish from each other. Only I know how it goes.

For me it started on Olde Queens at about 7 o'clock one year ago tonight. So much has happened since then. So much love, loss, and everything in between. It kills me. It hurts me. It makes me feel so damn good to know that I've had this year, this wonderful, frightening, emotional year. Thank you to everyone who was a part of it. For me the year ends tonight, with little fanfare and little notice, it ends tonight. I have nothing going on, nothing planned, nothing to do at all. I'll sit alone in my apartment and watch the best year of my life slip away. This, without a doubt, has been the best year of my life...so far.

Just so that you know...

We Palomba's don't fall down...we crash and burn. But this Palomba always bounces back.

Sit On It And Rotate

Hey there.

So anyway there's this whole work thing that's fucking up my groove.

And this whole lack of cable and internet thing which is throwing off my pace.

So...I don't know.

There's really only one more benchmark coming up in the next few weeks as far as I can tell. It will be my final D-Day of this round. It's the real end of my time at WRSU.

I had my doubts about whether or not it was a good idea to stick around for the summer at the station. Sometimes it made my nights tougher, destroyed me. Brought me down lower than you could ever imagine. Other times it helped me up. Either way it was a blast.

It would have been more fun if we could have gotten all the seniors to stick around, or at least a little more of the crew. But hell, it was good...good enough.

I don't know. I don't have the internet at my apartment otherwise I'd be posting all night. It's that kind of night. Instead I'll write it out long hand...and talk to you tomorrow.

Disinterest

I've been offline for the better part of the last three days. Still, when I return I have only two e-mails. Both are my daily news updates from the Times.

While I'm complaining, no one ever comments here. I know what I say isn't very interesting, but someone could at least drop me a note saying hello.

Stories

God told me a story the other night and somehow I missed the point.

It wasn't like a lot of other nights, it wasn't like seeing something. God told me a story, then he let me watch it unfold. It played out over a series of three days, from beginning to end only two people in the world knew it was happening. I was one of them, I have no idea who the other is.

So many other things happened in between the beginning and end of this story that I almost forgot I knew the story at all. It won't be the defining story of Part Four, I know that already, but it might just be the most surprising twist thus far.

There are other things that happened this week. Things at work, things at WRSU, things at old homes and new homes...but nothing quite matches up with this.

I'll be back.

Hi, My Name Is...

I was standing in my office this morning talking to Matt, Julie, and Bob when I had a thought that almost caused me to break out in hysterical laughter. I would give up so much to be standing in an office with a different Matt, Julie, and Rob.

Don't ask me why this was so funny. Maybe it's because I was exhausted, maybe it's because it made me feel liking punching a hole in the wall. It was like that bizarro episode of Seinfeld except that I knew there wasn't going to be a commercial break to let me off the hook.

I could feel it building up inside of me and I just knew that I had to get away, so I hot footed out of there, hopped into my car and was gone. I hit the road hard, and was two towns over before I looked up.

Glen Rock isn't the kind of place to go joyriding in, too many people who will most likely think you're up to something. So I dropped back towards P-Town and, exercising some extreme vehicular prejudice, avoided what was almost a two truck - one Palomba wreck. The whole time all I could think about is that I replaced a group of people I cared about with a group of people who were only around because I sign their paychecks...and who I don't like nearly as much.

But by giving this up, I can't get that back. That went away, I didn't give it away. It was its time, their time, maybe even my time. But I can't get that back, so I have to start looking for something else. And while in some ways this might be it, in every other way I know it's not.

And in the words of Senor Lovedaddy, "That's the triple-truth, Ruth."

School's In, I'm Out

Classes started at Rutgers today. For the first time since I was four years old school started and I wasn't there...god damn.