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MY LIFE: A Visit To Peculiar Missouri, Part 2: You Are Now NOT Entering The Twilight Zone, Have A Nice Day!

This is from me, and NOT reprinted. - OlderMusicGeek

A link to Part 1

So an hour or so later finds my daughter and I going up the Peculiar ramp.

We head up the Peculiar main street. I have to admit that we are disappointed to find nothing strange or out-of-place. Looks like a typical small Midwestern town. No buildings that look they're a cover or disguise for a secret lab or giant spaceship, damn it!

We stop to get gas at a Casey's, a typical – not peculiar! – convenience store you find scattered all over the upper Midwest countryside.

I asked the people in the store about their local restaurants. Nothing strange and unusual there either, damn it! A Subway, a Chinese restaurant, a Mexican restaurant, a truck stop, and a local greasy spoon.

And the people in the store seemed aggravatingly normal too! Didn't strike me as mind-controlled or demon-possessed or disguised aliens. Just typical small town Midwestern folk, damn it!


Well, in a vain hope of trying to find something peculiar, my daughter and I continue down the main street and check their other busy street.

Although we don't see anything peculiar, I make stupid jokes with my daughter, eyes rolling, about the Peculiar elementary school, Peculiar golf country club and Peculiar this-and-that.

It is at this point, I realize that this is exactly something my dad would do with us kids, and we would groan and roll our eyes too! Yes, so even though I'm becoming a woman, I'm still becoming my dad!


My daughter and I did – finally! - find something slightly peculiar in Peculiar. There, on the wall, of a small silo, at The Peculiar Feed Supply store, was a big ole happy face. My daughter even made me wait to take a picture of it, though typical teenager she was, she didn't want a picture of herself in front of it!


For lunch, my daughter went with the boring choice, Subway!

“Subway?! You're in Peculiar. You can go to a Peculiar restaurant, and you choose Subway?!”

“Yeah, why not?”

“What are you going to tell your friends when they ask where you ate in Peculiar?”

“I'll tell them I went to a Peculiar Subway!”

I just roll my eyes.

MY LIFE: A Visit To Peculiar Missouri, Part 3: The Robot Revolution And Why Peculiar Is Peculiar, And Not!

MY LIFE: My Blog Analyzed

This is from me, and NOT reprinted. - OlderMusicGeek

This website, URLAI Who Are You? will analyze your blog. These are my results:

Text analysis
oldermusicgeek.blogspot.com is probably written by a female somewhere between 66-100 years old. The writing style is personal and upset most of the time.

POLITICS and CULTURE/SOCIETY: Nation Secretly Hoping 9/11 Becomes A Day Off Soon

I got this from the The Onion. - OlderMusicGeek

Nation Secretly Hoping 9/11 Becomes A Day Off Soon

WASHINGTON—After spending another anniversary of the 2001 terrorist attacks at work, many across the country have begun to secretly hope that the date will soon become a federally mandated day off. "We'll have it off in 25 years anyway, so why not just start now?" said a Des Moines–area citizen who wished to remain anonymous. "The people who tragically lost their lives on 9/11 deserve a day of remembrance. Also, I could really use some extra time to clean out my gutters." A small minority of Americans continue to hold out hope that the anniversary of the 2000 bombing of the USS Cole, in which 17 American sailors died, will someday result in a national half-day off.

MY LIFE: A Visit To Peculiar Missouri, Part 1: Drives And Responsibilities

I don't why, but this post is taking me forever to write. Just can't seem to find the time. So I'm dividing into 3 posts. - OlderMusicGeek

We hop off the Peculiar exit, looking forward to seeing what this town, that we had passed many times but never visited, had to offer to us.

We had seen the sign each time we went down to visit my mom in Arkansas. “Peculiar so-and-so many miles”. Okay, it didn't actually say “so-and-so many miles”, but I don't remember the exact figure!

But my daughter and I became fascinated by the idea of a town called “Peculiar”. And I determined that one day we would visit it.

Well, the years rolled by and we never did visit it. If we were coming from my mom's home in Arkansas, we just wanted to get home. And sometimes, I was meeting my mom and her husband at the halfway point between my home and theirs in Clinton, Missouri, to either to drop off or pick up my daughter who was visiting for a couple of weeks. And Peculiar was only an hour or so from Clinton, and we didn't feel like stopping our 8- to 9-hour drive again after so short a time.

So year after year, the town of Peculiar was noticed... but ignored.


Then finally one year, I took down my nephew as I was going down to pick up my daughter.

I have to say, though, he has no understanding of the responsibility of the passenger on a long trip – which, of course, is to talk to the driver and keep them awake. I tried talking to him, but all I got back were monosyllables.

Thank the god, I had a boom box hooked up to my iPod playing all my alternative rock, punk, Cajun, bluegrass, big band, as well as other music. I would have fallen asleep without that music and massive doses of Diet Coke. And unfortunately, all that Diet Coke, of course, meant a number of potty stops. I am in my mid-40s!


Well, we still passed the town of Peculiar on the way down and met my mom, her husband and my daughter in Clinton.

Usually, we just eat at the McDonald's there in Clinton. But my nephew has celiac disease and can't eat certain kinds of food, especially wheat-based products. Turns out there really wasn't anywhere in town where he could eat.

So we said our good-byes, and my nephew headed off with my mom and her husband, and my daughter obviously headed off with me.


And as we headed to the car, it hit me.

“Hey, are you that hungry? Or can you wait an hour?”

My daughter gives me a bit of a look. “I'm not really that hungry. Why?”

I smile. “Well.... I was thinking we could eat in Peculiar.”

“Oh, we're going to eat in Peculiar! I can wait!”

A Visit To Peculiar Missouri, Part 2

MY LIFE: Trivia Games Of The Mind

I don't know about you, but as I get older, I find my mind playing more and more trivia games with me. And, of course, rude mind that it is – and my mind can be very rude! - it doesn't even ask me if I want to play.

So I was sitting there innocently at work doing quality control on data entry – yes, I know, exciting work. Which is why I have to have my music with me. If I forget my iPod, I take a 9 o'clock lunch to go get it! But that really has nothing to do with our story. Just an exciting tidbit of my exciting life I was throwing at you. I swear, if I wasn't getting a sex change, I'd be one of the most boring people on this planet!

Anyway! I'm at work listening to music, when I was trying to remember some of the punk rock and alternative rock I had on my old hard drive before it died. And for some reason, I remember this song “Last Nite”. I can kind of remember how it goes and some of the lyrics, but I can't remember the name of the band. I know they're The S-something.


Now normally, I would just google this, but our work has a really strict policy about internet usage. Almost any site having remotely to do with social networks is blocked. Even a local TV channel's site is blocked because we were picking up too many viruses from there. Of course, these rules don't stop me from using the internet, just careful about when I do use it.

And I wasn't ready to use it yet. I still had a couple of other resources.

And I turned to one of my cubicle mates. He was one of the trio of trivia experts in our department. I being another, and a data entry tech being the third. The third member of the trio wasn't a huge music fan. He liked well enough and could answer some general music trivia questions, but he wasn't one of the people you go to about music.

Now, my cubicle mate was into music quite a bit. Not as much as me of course, but more than almost everybody in the department. And as I said he was part of the trivia trio in our department.


So I tap his shoulder, he takes off his headphones, and I say, “I need help. I can't remember this name of a band. I know they had a song called “Last Nite” and it's spelled N-I-T-E. And their name starts with an S. They're The S-Something. They're a guitar-oriented alternative band from the 90s.” They're actually from the 00s, but anyway....

Then more information came to me. “And part of the lyrics was 'last nite she said'. And there's something about grandma doesn't know and UFOs don't know. And on their second album they sing something about the end having no end. And they've had 3 albums that I know of.”

“Oh, and I think their first album is called “Last Nite”.” It wasn't. If my mind is going to play trivia games with me, I wish it would play fair with accurate information.

My cubicle mate thought for a while. “Those lyrics sound familiar. Could you sing part of it?”

I smiled. “Um, I could, but you still probably wouldn't recognize it.”

He smiled back. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Then he added, “Well, dang, now I want to know who it is.”


Fortunately, I still had another ace up my sleeve. We have a second music fanatic in our department. But don't worry, she's about 25 years younger than me, so there's little overlap between us.

In fact, a couple years back, I was tried to impress her, show her that I didn't just listen to music from my time, the late 70s to mid 80s. I rattled off a bunch of "new" bands i was listening to.

And she said, and I quote... and yes, I can quote her because I'll never forget what she said! “Oh, yeah, the 90s, that was good music. I listen to some of that stuff when I was a kid.”


So anyway, I went to her cube but she wasn't there. So I left a note. Fortunately for once, I thought ahead and let her know what it was about, so she wouldn't worry and wonder why she was being summoned to the quality control cubicle. Figured she'd be a bit annoyed worrying about why the q.c. people to see her and find out it's just to name a band.

Well, I couldn't wait any longer. I broke company rules – shhh! - and looked up the lyrics on the internet. The band's name came right up.

The other music fanatic showed up shortly after that. She was kind of laughing. She asked if we figured it out and said we had, but gave her the information I had anyway.

And right away she said, “The Strokes?”

“Yep. Where were you when we needed you?”

She just smiled and kind of shrugged. And I just kind of shrugged at my slowly deteriorating mind and its stupid trivia games.

ON OLDERMUSICGEEK'S STUPID ENTERTAINMENT STUFF: "MUSIC: My Destiny With Devo" (just click here)

MY LIFE: Apparently I Fit The Profile

This is from me, and NOT some reprinted material. - OlderMusicGeek

“What's with the hair?” asked a co-worker who I've nicknamed "The Mortal Enemy”. Apparently, a lot of what I do is some horrible affront to her. Honestly, I get hassled less by my ex-wife.

On this occasion, it looked like she had a problem with me tying back the hair that I'd been growing out. I explained that I prefer the hair behind me than in my face.

“Well, I have a pair of scissors at my desk.”

I commented on how I don't see her using them, and she went on about how she gives her hair to charity. For her I guess, that is the only good reason to grow your hair out.


I later grumbled one of my cubicle mates how the person with the longest hair was complaining about my hair.

She rolled her eyes in sympathy.

“Well, she thinks only certain kind of guys wear their hair long.”

I am a male-to-female transsexual, but I've just started transitioning and haven't come out at work. So I was curious if any of my co-workers had seen me in female mode.

“What kind of guys?”

“Well, you know...”

“Not really.” At least, I didn't know what she meant!

“Well, you know, just certain guys.”

“No, I don't know.”

My co-worker thought for a moment.

“Well, like guys who are really into music.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that doesn't describe me at me!”

She looked a little embarrassed and added, “And college professors.”

“Oh, well, I've never been compared to absent-minded professors!”

She rolled her eyes again, though not in sympathy this time, and went back to work.

I went back to work thinking about how my mortal enemy has it out for professorial music fans.

MY LIFE: What Year Is It?

This is from me, and NOT some reprinted material. - OlderMusicGeek

“What year is it?”

I look at the young man who walked up to me in the convenience store parking lot.

I almost haltingly come out and say 2010. But then I think he couldn't mean that, could he?

I look at the guy. He doesn't look like a crazed maniac who thinks he's in a Terminator movie.


So I think about it some more.

Is he mocking me? Do I look like I'm stuck in the past. Admittedly, I have long hair, but my outfit is hardly that of a hippie.


I look at the young man again. And that is when I realized that he is looking at the car!

“Oh! It's 1999!”


Funny enough, when I told my ex-wife this story, she said, “Imagine if you had told him 2010.”

“2010! No way!”

“Uh, yeah, sorry it is! We got a black president and everything!”

“What's Obama got to do with anything? It's definitely the late '90's!”

“I'm sorry, but you're over ten years late. I know what year it is!”

“I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think you do!”

And then I can imagine him walking away grumbling about the guy who thinks his old car is brand new.

I read and watch too much science fiction!

MY LIFE: No! I Don't Want To Be A Frightened, Scrawny 14-Year-Old Nerd Boy Again!

This is from me, and NOT some reprinted material. - OlderMusicGeek

So I stood in front of her. Not saying a word. My eyes staring at those fingers sitting on phone's keyboard, waiting for a response from me.

It was a simple enough question. Quite simple actually. And I knew the answer. I rattled it off on quite a regular basis. But now, I just stood perfectly still in front of her like a deer in headlights, waiting for the truck to slam 70 miles per hour into it.

And what exactly brought me to this sorry, embarrassing state? There lies a stupid, silly, foolish tale. Fortunately for you, dear reader, not really a very long one.


I was at a musical festival and saw this wonderful band that did an interesting blend of old time rock and roll with alternative rock. Even did a good cover of “Folsom Prison Blues”! I made a mental note to add them as a Facebook and MySpace friend so I would know when they were playing next.

Then a later band, that was giving shout outs to all the bands that played that day, mentioned that the band I liked was giving away a cd with three of their songs... for free! I groaned in frustration in having missed out! And I had actually seen the lead singer earlier and told her I liked her music, but it was in the middle of another band's set and I just saw her in passing, so that was the extent of the conversation.

Well, later as I'm coming out of the building, who should be heading for the building but that cute little lead singer!

And I won't lie! She was damn cute!

I don't know if this has anything to do with anything, but... I am a male-to-female transsexual who has just started transitioning. So I still look pretty “guy-ish” and was going about as a male. And my sexual preference can best be described as confused, but bisexual works well as anything!

And I will say this cute lead singer had this sweet hippie look going on with this long straight black hair, long dangling “crafty”-type earings, adorable silver frame librarian type glasses, a white spaghetti strap t-shirt, and some ripped jeans to finish the effect.


So anyway, I stop her and tell her that I heard they were giving away free cd's.

She suddenly gets a look of disappointment on her face. “Oh, sorry, we did! But we're out now!”

Urgh! Curses!

Then she follows with, “Well, could I get your information, so I can send you to the website?”

“Uh, sure!”

And that, dear readers, is when it happened.

She got out her phone, looked up at me with her soft eyes and asked me THE question.

“Can I get your phone number?”


What can I say? I just froze up. Completely, totally and utterly.

And my poor brain was running at overdrive. Part of my head was going, “Wha? Huh? Wait? What did she say? That can't be right. No, okay, now wait.”

Another part of my brain is trying to be all reasonable about this. “Okay, calm down. Let's think this though. There might be another explanation. You really weren't that into her before now. And she's probably half your age! And closer to your daughter's age than you!”

A third part of the brain is going, “Hey, idiot, she just wants your number to promote her band!”

That last part of my brain might have saved me and set me straight, except in most of my brain, there was basically a huge alarm clanging super loudly from different locations while a whole bunch of red lights, like the ones on top of police cars, twirled around and around, and a mechanical voice screamed, “Danger! Danger! Does not compute! Does not compute!”

If smoke was billowing out of my ears, I would not have been surprised!

What can I say? I haven't been much of a lady catcher, due to being a shy nerd and, more than likely, the fact that, until recently, I was a transsexual in repression and hiding it from myself.


So I stood there in front of her with my eyes staring at her fingers sitting on her phone for what felt like five to ten minutes, though was probably actually less than one.

“Well, that is if you don't mind?” I suddenly heard her say.

I was then quickly knocked out of the evil spell.

I mumbled yes and quietly gave her my number, and with prompting, my name and email.

Then being the suave, sophisticated guy I am, I said I would check out her band again if I wasn't busy with my thirteen-year-old daughter.

Yeah, great, I'm sure mentioning my thirteen-year-old daughter proved I had no interest in her and I wasn't a blubbering idiot because I was attracted to her.

Anyway, after that, I mumbled a fast good-bye, scurried away quickly as possible and prayed I wouldn't see her for the rest of the festival. And wondered what the freak I was going to do if she recognized me at her next show!