Sounds of the city pounding in my brain 
While another day goes down the drain

"Anything can happen, and it probably will, because it usually does." Bill Cardille

Hey

Hope everyone's having a good autumn, (mine's more like a Fall), we're back with another NL.

Jumping straight into the mail bag, glad the Spectreman bit was such a hit, to address those of you who thought you were missing something and asked what was so bizarre about the Walker Brothers you.tube vid in last issue, nothing, as far as I could tell, the bizarre one is "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore" (no parens around Anymore) that clocks in at 3:04, (more recommendations in the you.tube section). Also, yes, of course I can dance as good as Tom Jones, better, in fact, are you kidding me? Ask Kay Lyons (then give me her address. cos I can't find her, and I've looked HARD).

I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again, but it truly warms my battered old heart the way some of you follow this thing. Hardly had last issue zoomed its electronical way into your homes and heads when I started getting asked "What about LYZ?!" I had completely forgotten I'd promised to finish the Scarefest story in last issue, so I'll finish it in here. Later.

First off, what has Bill been doing lately?

Went down to Rock Hill weekend before last and got my Mom, stopped in Athens and picked up Rachie, met her roomate Nikki, nice girl and smart too, she's a fan of the famous Bill Bitner, we ate at Sonic, my first time, I got a foot long chili cheese dog (should have gotten two), Rachel got some fried chicken and bacon sandwich thing, it was all heavy and salty as hell, but good, while eating Rachie told me this hilarious story about this kid in MD going on about "cherry limonade".

Had a nice visit in Rock Hill, but it ain't the same going there without my Dad (Rachel noted the same thing on the ride down) ate at the cafeteria Saturday night, typical good southern eats, then went to BAM where I bought Rachel a book for her birthday- she turned 19 this past Monday, the 17th, which is just crazy, my youngest daughter is now the same age her mother was when I married her (and in a month Sarah will be the same age I was). Lord, it seems like Loretta was just ninteen. Hell, seems like I was.

Unfortunately none of the Bell girls were around, Denise went to see one of her sons in college, Teresa and Mike (and the Flying Dutchman, who I was informed was sorely disapppointed to miss seeing his idol) were in Orlando doing some rich folks thing, but they're very cool rich folks, so I don't have a problem with it.

Last year I commented on how alarmingly low the water level at Lake Wylie was, it's back up to normal this year, Sunday moring Rachel and I stood out on the deck and watched four or five big catfish (I'd say they'd go around 5-6 pounds, the one really big one maybe twice that- he was BIG) swim around there in the shallow water next to shore, got Rachel's fishing blood all up, thought I was going to have to restrain her like I used to do when she was a kid. She wasn't so bad when she hooked a fish, she'd just reel it in, but when I hooked one she lost her mind, and would want to go into the water after it, with a stick. Funny kid.

Tracy, the worthless fuck, was still in jail, but he was getting out the Monday after we left to go to a 28 day rehab program, upon completion of which he'll be released to go home- which means Aline's. Aline's already letting Tracy's no good 19 year old daughter stay with her, cos her mom kicked her out, although the kid probably never had a chance, her dad's a substance abusing asshole and her mom's a vain and decietful bitch-

(SOUNDS LIKE SOME OTHER KIDS I KNOW)

Really? I must not know them. Anyway, in a month Aline's gonna be stuck with two deadbeats in her home. Until my mom and I visit again, then it'll be four.

Before going down there I vowed I would do my best to be patient with my mom, not let every little thing get on my nerves, which I fully admit I'm prone to, and when she did annoy me, to not let it get to me. That lasted till Sunday morning, when I was trying to load the car.

Once I managed to get her to get all her stuff together- a task in itself- I asked her-

Bill: Can I put all of this in the trunk, or do you want some of it left out?

I ask her this because I never took a single trip as a child that somewhere along the way my Mom didn't say to my Dad, "Oh, did you put that blue satchel (or green bag, or puce shoebox or whatever) in the trunk (or bulky and goofy luggage thing on top of the car)? Because I needed it left out". Then my Dad, instead of saying, "Tough fucking shit, you should've told me before I loaded it," would sigh, and pull the car over, and fish whatever damn thing it was that my Mom wanted out of the trunk, or that goofy bulky luggage thing on the roof, often having to unload the entire damn car to find it.

Well, Bill doesn't play that fucking game, so I'm trying to prevent the situation occuring. In response to my question, my mother replies-

Mom: Well, there's my suitcase, and that's a bag of books, and that- 
B: No. No, that's not what I asked you. I didn't ask you to list all this shit here, I can see it for myself. I asked you if you wanted any of it left out of the trunk.

She gives me that vague look I know and hate so well, and goes-

M: Well, there's my suitcase, and that's a bag of books, and that-

Instead of going off, new and patient Bill tells himself to calm down, it's no big deal, let her list all this shit if that's what she needs to do, then she can tell you if she wants any of it left out.

M: - and that's the jacket I bought down here. Aline and I went to Belk's the other day, they were having a sale- 
B: You can tell me about the jacket another time. All right, now you've listed everything here. Do you want any of it left out when I load the trunk?

I know you can see it coming.

M: Well . . . there's my suitcase-

I just started picking things up and throwing them in the trunk. Fortunately for all concerned, she didn't ask me to stop along the ride back and get something out of the trunk for her, cos if she had, I'd have stopped the car and unloaded her. I just wasn't cut out for this job.

Speaking of jobs, Bill's still at the scrapyard- sort of. There's NO fucking business, Phil wants Fridays off, so I've been working Fridays lately for him, this week I also worked Monday and Tuesday so he could take a long weekend and visit his brother, which I'm told didn't go too well. We've been getting anywhere from three to ten customers a day the past month, Tuesday, when we closed up at 3 pm, we hadn't had a soul come in since we opened at 8 am. I don't see Bill having much future in the scrap business.

Ronnie and I had been getting along pretty well recently, till business went to hell and he started resenting the fact that he's outside in the cold working all day cutting up scrap while I'm sitting in the nice warm office reading Hard Case Crime paperbacks.

He came in Monday morning bitching to Nancy (who I called Sally in the last NL, and to her face for a whole day a while back- I have mentioned I'm losing my mind, right?)-

Ronnie: Every time I come in here all that damn Rambo's doing is reading. 
Bill: That's cos I'm Special 007 Number One. 
R: You're special all right. How come he gets to sit in here reading all day while I'm having to work out in the cold? 
B: Hell, Ronnie, learn to read, and maybe you can have my job. 
R: That ain't even funny.

(YES, IT WAS).

I thought so. Ronnie, however, didn't, and he stormed on out into the cold, came in Tuesday morning again all fired up-

R: Hell, Nancy, at least make him fix the coffee in the morning or something. 
B: Sure, Ronnie. I'd be glad to fix your coffee. 
R: Wait a minute. I don't think I want him fixing the coffee.

Smart man. Ronnie also said the other day he had to go to "majesty court", but I didn't catch why.

Actually, this past month at the scrapyard reminds me so much of the last time I worked for Phil, way back in the Jurassic age of 1980, 28 went-by-in-a-flash years ago as we speak.

In September 1980, Kelley, Gidley, Blair and Wolfe, the engineering firm where both Loretta and Phil worked (and Laura had), built a new office building on Eagen Street, and had also bought a small (30 spaces) parking lot on a corner a few blocks away. Up till then the lot had been a free lot, unattended, where anyone could park without having to pay. KGB&W were going to mark it off and assign spaces to some of their staff. They needed someone to monitor the parkling lot at least for the first few weeks, and make sure the KGB&W folks all parked in the right place, and no non-KGB&W folks parked there at all.

Phil, who knew I was unemployed at the time- lucky guess, or something- asked Loretta if I would do it.

Phil: It's going to be a tough job. People are going to get mad at him when he tells them they can't park there. 
Loretta: That won't be a problem. 
P: They're probably going to cuss him out. 
L: That won't be a problem. 
P: Some of them may threaten to get physical. 
L: That won't be a problem. 
P: He has to be there at 7 am. 
L: THAT'S going to be a problem.

But I took the job anyway, and yeah, people did cuss me out, big deal, and some of them did threaten to kick my ass, but I was able to convince them it would probably go the other way, and even if it didn't, they were still going to be sorry as fuck, so no one actually tried it, sample conversation-

Asshole wanting to park on my lot (beligerantly): What are you going to do if I park my car here anyway? 
Bill: I'm not going to do anything. But that tow truck I call is going to tow your fucking car. 
Awtpoml: Goddamn you. 
B: Whatever.

Why that job reminds me of the scrapyard is, after the morning rush there at the lot, I spent most of my day sitting in my car reading, like I do now in the office (I could still name you a dozen of the books I read on that parking lot, easy, but won't). Also, it always seemed overcast that 1980 autumn for some reason, like it's been nearly every day I've worked at the scrapyard.

Along about November they didn't really need me to patrol the lot anymore, but Phil liked me, and knew I was buddies with Doug, so he kept me on and let me help out in the print room. Some times there wasn't enough print work for me and the other helper in there, Gary, so for something to do we'd "wash the company cars", which meant we'd take one and go to the Shop-a-Minit on Greenbrier Street, Gary would buy a six pack of Mickey's Malt Liquor tall boys, and we'd drive around and drink them, then take the unwashed car back to the office. Good work if you can get it.

I always had Gary buy because I told him I didn't feel right buying beer while I was supposed to be working.

Gary: You won't buy beer on the job, but if I buy it, you'll drink it? 
Bill: Correct. 
G: You white folks sure have some funny ideas. 
B: Don't we though?

One day Phil came to me with a huge box of keys, over a hundred, and told me to take them up to the third floor, which had just been finished, and fit them in all the locks. None of the keys were labelled, so I had to go through the whole box of keys till I found the one that would fit whatever door I was trying it in, then I would leave the key in the door, with a tag with the room number on it. So I went up there that morning, all these nice, quiet deserted offices and meeting rooms and such are giving me an idea, I come downstairs just before noon, Loretta asks what I want to do for lunch.

Bill: I want to go back up to the third floor. 
Loretta: Why? 
B: Because there's nobody up there. And won't be.

And, this being 1980, Loretta thought that was just a wonderful idea. Man, those were the days. So we went up to the third floor and rug burned our knees on the carpet the first time, second time Bill wised up and took Loretta in the bathroom and set her fine bare ass down on the counter next to the sink, and that worked out just wonderfully.

Phil kept finding things for me to do, though none so enjoyable as working on the third floor, so I stayed with KGB&W till 2/81, when Loretta and I both quit to launch the Sabres ill fated invasion of London.

What else has Bill been doing?

Had lunch with Jason a few weeks ago at the Chinese place in the Kanawha mall, he bought, what a prince. The family are all doing well- I can't believe how big his kids are getting, he'll be in my boat soon, "Jesus, I was just ninteen myself!". Jason looks good, if hairy, he hasn't cut his hair since the last time I saw him in November '06. He told me LONG time NL reader Chris K got married, so congratulations to Chris, hope it works out better for you than it did for me.

(IT WOULD PRETTY MUCH HAVE TO).

No shit.

Jason also said he was a fan of Spectreman during his run on TBS (of course, Jason was also five years old at the time) and badly wanted a Spectreman doll, I mean "action figure". Didn't we all. And that other whacko Jap series you were talking about, with the long haired face painted family who turned into rocket ships was "Space Giants". Classic shit, for real.

Damn. The power just went off here for about a minute- and I had JUST SAVED. Ha, ha, fuck you, universe.

And in a very somber and serious, "fuck you, universe", I AGAIN have to tell you about the passing of a friend. Last week DF Sean, who was a mainstay in here in the early years of the NL (his daughter Tori drew the picture that's at the bottom of the 2002 archives), died last Wednesday, the 12th, at the age of 38, from what the paper said was a sudden illness. I haven't had a chance to speak to anyone to find out what happened, whatever it was, it fucking sucks, I'm not anywhere near getting over Doug, and now I'm again mourning the loss of a good man gone far too young. Damn, it's depressing. RIP, Sean Lette.

What has Bill been reading? Tons, eight Hard Case crime paperbacks (the six I picked up in Lexington plus two more picked up at the J&R outlet place there at mile marker 50 on I-77 in NC- not really worth stopping unless you've got the bucks to buy some good cigars cheap and in bulk, which right now I don't), plus a bunch of old Mike Shayne and Shel Scott's I found here in a box, and a Destroyer omnibus (three novels) I got at the library, all this hardboiled stuff is getting to me, the other day I said to Rachel-

Bill: If that old dame don't quit bugging me I'm gonna get me a gat and give her a couple right in the conk. 
Rachel: You WHAT?

Also read another book about digital art- there's got to be some trick to it, I just can't figure it out, okay, let's see, art PLUS computers, I think I see the problem here- and a big book about kanji calligraphy that I hoped would show me how to write Death Falcon Zero in kanji, cos I want to get it tattooed on my-

(PECKER?)

- no, not my pecker, and I think you're the first person under the age of 75 I've ever heard use the word "pecker"-

(I EXIST IN MY OWN TIME)

Boy howdy. Also read a bunch of Carbon 14 back issues- truly a great magazine- and Southern Storm, about Sherman's march to the sea, and Cavalryman of the Lost Cause, about J.E.B. Stuart. Probably a mistake, those last two, cos my Dad was a big Civil War buff and reading about it makes me think about him, which makes me miss him more, also, I don't really enjoy reading sbout American armies fighting American armies, and blowing the absolute fuck out of one another. Take that shit to France, boys.

What else? The Goliath Bone, started by Mickey Spillane-

(DID YOU GIVE MICKEY PERMISSION TO WRITE OUR BIOGRAPHY? COS I KNOW I DIDN'T)

-I can see why the title fooled you, it's not our biography, and it's also not very good, even though it was finished by Max Allen Collins after Mick's death, and he's usually pretty decent.

Went to see Appaloosa last Saturday, it was excellent, very faithful to the book, and it was a good book. The casting was dead on, Chris didn't like Renee Zellwegger as Allie cos he doesn't like her "sour faced" look, which I can understand, but she fit the role in my opinion. Went up to Chris's after and drank some Harpoon IPA, some Red Hook ESB, and some Bass Ale, (and a shot of tequila), and smoked a fine cigar that burned for an incredible, and freezing, since we were on the porch in the sleeting sleet, ninty minutes.

Then we watched Big House on TCM (Bill with Chris's pearl handled Ruger .45 stuck in his pants, where it felt very natural), a mean spirited noir tale of kidnapping and prison break with as alcoholic a cast list as you could ever want- Broderick Crawford, William Talman, Ralph Meeker, and Lon Chaney, Jr. In a nice instance of synchronicity, I'm reading the latest issue of Screem last night and there's an interview with John Stephens who worked on Big House, he noted that Crawford and Chaney were both pleasant drunks, and that Talman and Meeker were prick drunks, said Chaney was the only guy he ever had to load on a plane at six am who was already staggering drunk.

(YOU HAVEN'T MET THIS STEPHENS GUY, HAVE YOU?)

Obviously not.

Also watched Gotham Nights, six or so Japanese animation takes on Batman. It was good.

She used to love me, that I know 
And it don't seem so long ago

This issue's you.tube recommendations, more Walker Brothers, "Make it Easy On Yourself", almost as good a slow dance song as The Sun etc., also the Fortunes "You've Got You're Troubles, I've Got Mine", a sentiment I can definitely get behind, the one posted by Sixtiesallthe way, great version of a great song, with screaming girls in the crowd and go-go girls in short white dresses synchonized dancing behind the band- lovely. Even better, is the Fortunes "5 O'clock World", just a killer song already, and this video, from Hullabaloo in 1966, fuck me, it's incredible, from the stark b/w retro futurist set of great big gears with hot girls in white overalls grinding away on them, to the band with their robotic cool moves, all decked out in their faux turtlenecks, called dickies for reasons that escape me, I watch this thing ten times a day and never get tired of it. Check all this shit out, it's fantastic, truly.

What's Bill drinking? Tonight, green tea, last night six Sierra Nevada Pale Ale 24 ounces, not that big a fan of SN, but I was in the mood to drink something bigger than a 12 ounce bottle (wish better beer came in 40 oz. bottles, I miss them), and that was the best choice in bigger bottles. Pricey, but what the fuck, I'm not taking it with me.

"I have kiboshed before, and I'll kibosh again." Crazy Joe Davola

"But if you take away my spear, how will I skewer him?" Kimala the Ugandan Giant, to referee.

"I would trade a baker's dozen of these hairless gym-rat gymnasts in PVC bikeshorts with the psuedo tribal design on the side for one grizzled, beer-breathed heavy gutted scary man with iron on letters down the side of his long tights. Nostalgia? No, realism." The Reverend Axl Future

Preach on, Rev.

In DFZ world, finally got the Death Stars going, they beat Industrial Techno with the double heart punch, like that was hard, at some outdoor show in St. Albans- yeah, an outdoor show in November, it was cold as fuck- then worked a four team tag match at Ayash, DFZ pinned "The Legit Hit" Brian Kyle before Jock, aka the weak link, got his ass pinned by Howitzer. Not a real good showing, which I hated, cos the Brainwrap boys came down to film it, I know it's going to come out looking great, just wish it was a better match.

Afterward, Ian, (Johnny Boy producer), and David Bailey, (Rafael in JB), came up to Rosa's and drank a beer with us, nice guys for real, they both made a very good impression on the hard to impress MC. Ian says he may come back for the December Ayash show, and I hope he does.

Working the next three weekends, gotta go to Buckhannon Friday for Thanksgiving Thunder, found out today when Brian called that DFZ is in a bullrope match with 300 plus pound Tennessee cowboy Cody Ices, if that wasn't bad enough- I'm already fucking sore, now I gotta do the bullrope thing- Brian says this kid is a "hotshot" and wants DFZ to "straighten him out". We're doing it in Buckhannon so that when DFZ stiffs the fuck out of this kid his buddies in the back can't come to the ring and help him out, since they'll all still be in Tennessee. Wonderful. So now I've gotta get in the ring with a "hotshot" less than half my age who outweighs me by over 80 pounds and "straighten him out".

(HE'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT HIT HIM)

Oh yeah, I mean if we gotta do it, that's the only way. If I can get through Friday, the following two weekends are easy, though, DStars against GAY in Parkersburg, then the DStars against Tommy Gibson and Bad Boy at Ayash. And I think that's all DFZ's committed to until next year, l already turned down a couple bookings around Christmas cos I just don't want to do 'em.

You know what? I'm not going to get to the Lyz thing tonght, either. I'm fucking beat, which is becoming far too common a feeling. Next issue, swear.

Anything from you?

(NOPE. I'M PLOTTING MY STRATEGY FOR FRIDAY NIGHT)

Knocking him cold legit with the cowbell sounds like a good strategy to me.

(YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT GREAT MINDS).

Yeah. They need to stay inside their skulls.

Later.

Bill