I'm thankful for Arlo Guthrie

Touch your nose and blow your toes, it's Thanksgiving. It's on a Thursday again this year, what are the chances? I could obviously just repost last year's blurb about Alice's Restaurant, but i thought it might be more fun to do a proper analysis of the album. Not the song, the album. It's actually quite fascinating, because the whole concept of the album is that you only care about Alice's Restaurant, you only bought it to hear Alice's Restaurant, and that's as good a reason as any for Harold Leventhal to tell "the story of Arlo Guthrie." 

It's a great story in its own right, a little biography, some evidence that he's a lovably funny character, a nice little mention of the practicality of what an agent actually does (send letters and call people to get real gigs for musicians). And the moral of the story deserves a quote: "This record will give many people a chance to hear some of Arlo's other talents. I think they'll be impressed...." 

Lurking deep under the surface of Bottle's Taxonomy, we see this is actually a here's a thing and some other stuff album, Like Tarkus or Inna-Gadda-Da-Vita. 

But i don't wanna pickle, you say. Well look, i can't help it that most Mayors and Governors are terrible communicators, nor can i help it if you think basic science is demon magic, but i can tell you that wearing a mask and not breathing directly into other peoples' faces does in fact help limit the spread of a virus which appears to be highly contagious during its incubation phase. The point is to try as best as possible to not flood our horribly disorganized and perpetually mismanaged healthcare system to the point that babies can't be delivered, broken arms can't be positioned and put in a cast, etc. I can also tell you that listening to everyone whine about it for the last 10 months has elevated my not giving a shit to epic proportions. I don't like that about myself. I'm supposed to be the happy-go-lucky guy who just takes life as it comes and shows you that none of this mass psychology gobbldigook is helpful for everyday life. I don't mean that Psychology is bad, i mean that walking around reenacting the showdown between Vissini and dramatic irony Wesley every moment of the day is stupid and unfulfilling. I can't even write an album review without veering off onto that tangent. 

My point is we as a collective people in geographic proximity to each other seem to have lost the ability to listen to another person without agruing about geopolitical power dynamics. I myself have argued for bombing the living bejeepers out of us several times (a KMFDM reference in an Arlo Guthrie review on Thanksgiving, seriously? Sandra would surely say "shut up, Bottle"), and repeatedly told you that these essays are meant to be funny (if it isn't funny you're reading it wrong), the same way that Arlo's story about the draft is funny, 8x10 glossy photographs notwithstanding. Obviously, my incredibly dark and macabre sense of humor isn't for everyone. I perpetually publish preposterously perplexing pieces of prose on this pointless platform. I'm also a fictitious character, designed to be intellectually challenging by my creator, whatever implications that might have for you. 

So, whether it's Festivus or Christmahannaquanziccah you're in the mood to celebrate, i'm thankful that i have the ability to tell myself that i'm being a dumbass and try to do better. It doesn't mean i'm doing an awesone job at it, it just means that i'm still willing to love all of you even when you say terrible things that i don't agree with, let you rant when you need to rant without responding with too much childish moral outrage, and keep waking up with my best compromise on my sleeve. 

Remember kids, if it makes you so mad you want to burst, find a way to throw it in the metaphorical dumpster, but try really hard to not accidentally light your neighbor's house on fire in the process. Insurance is simply one fancy front-end for the stock market and your agent is technically and legally your broker. See how i tied that all together like i had some plan at the beginning? I assure you i didn't. 

And so, the sincerely apropos conclusion to this silly string of loosely connected stories: 

Thank you for taking time out of your own day to let my brain thoughts attack your brain cells. No good deed goes unpunished (wink, wink).