The World of Stuff .com

Slammed

A few weeks ago, Michelle invited me to an open mic or poetry slam sponsored by Coral Springs for Peace. I thought about doing a poem or song or something, but I figured I’d spare myself the embarrassment this time. I just wanted to be a spectator and get a feel for the whole thing. The event was at a coffee place, as you might suspect. The address of the place didn’t sound familiar, but I realized when I got there that I had been to the shopping center before.

Anyway, the event itself was pretty interesting. There were mostly older teenagers there, but there were also some adults, who I assume were part of Coral Springs for Peace. So these people who were most likely older than me read their poetry. Much of it was either whiny, depressed stuff (stream-of-consciousness angst) or hip-hop stuff (stream-of-consciousness social commentary). I don’t think I would have stood a chance with the audience, as I don’t write in either those styles. Anything I could write would be simply more juvenile. Angst and social commentary are attractive. (Michelle read one of her poems, and though it didn’t fit in either category, it was still pretty stream-of-consciousness, from what I can remember.)

The remainder of the performances were music. Ah, sweet music. There was one guy who sang anti-war songs a cappella. I thought he was really bold to do that. Even more impressive was a father-son duo. The father sang and played the guitar and the harmonica, while the son played one of those huge upright basses. They did a few songs, including “The House of the Rising Sun,” which happens to be one my favorite songs. They sounded so fantastic that they almost made me want to give up music. Okay, maybe not, but they were darn good. If I were playing a song, they would have been a tough act to follow.

It was a learning experience. Besides meeting interesting people in an intriguing scene, I think I’ve learned about the nature of poetry in the twenty-first century. There are many different kinds of poetry. Hip-hop seems to have made an indelible influence on popular poetry. Hip-hop has little to no influence on me. Therefore, I churn out unpopular poetry. Actually, I don’t really write poetry at all. I just write songs, some of which can pass as poetry when read without the music. Hip-hop has no influence on my songs, either. Note to self: Do not perform at an open mic. Long live rock and roll.

I may be very, very close to getting finally, getting my, uh, learner’s permit. It’s really embarrassing, you see. I’m almost 17 and I haven’t even gotten it yet. But the day before yesterday, I passed the required drug education course, and yesterday, I somehow passed the tests on road rules and road signs. That means all I have to do is go down to the DMV to have my hearing and vision checked. Then they’ll snap my picture, and I’ll never have to keep my student ID in my wallet again.

There’s one problem, though. My twin sister, who passed her tests some time before I did, scheduled an appointment for today, but since I only passed yesterday, there was no way I could get scheduled for the same day. So, rather than scheduling for a later day, we’re going to try to convince them to take me along with my sister this afternoon. We’ll have to use our twinly charm or something. Maybe we’ll have to do a trick like finishing each other’s sentences or making things float. Hopefully that’ll work.

Ryan North, creator of Dinosaur Comics, does it again. Inspired by this comic of his, he’s created the Regret Index, where you can find out how much you might regret certain things.

If you’re obsessed with Google, this would make a handy home page: Simply Google. It’s everything Google on one simple page.

One year ago: “The world is no longer safe.”
Two years ago: “Computer Randomly Plays Classical Music”