THE TELLING SCENT OF URINE.

A Tale of Dog Walking In The Big City...

The gorgeous husky, with her perfect markings and apparently smiling white face with sky blue eyes, makes about 30 % of the people we pass smile. The neighborhood is about populate enough that you may or may not walk a couple blocks without meeting anyone. So, saying hello to everyone isn't a problem, like downtown, where people are passing by in mass, and where only a psycho would try to say hello to everyone (for the sake of the honesty that this blog might as well have, if it is to have any meaning at all, I might as well write that yes, I did get drunk and try this, but it was out of love, man... ). Today, I was out with her and we passed this corner where someone was just gardening the hell out of their little patch of earth. Flowers color co-ordinated, stunning... Ruby happily pulls me over to the flowers and shoves her nose into a yellow rose glistening with large, glittering drops of morning dew. A hot youngster all in black with a red baseball cap passes by and laughs, tells me, "I can't believe that dog loves smelling flowers so much. That is so cool."

Naturally smooth dude that I am, I unconsciously caught myself having the impulse to flirt with the girl. After a split second of reflection, I allowed myself the digression, merely for the benefit of the young child's ego, of course, because and let me just state this once more in writing, I will never break the sanctity of my commitment to the woman who pays the bills... That doesn't sound right. I'll have to remember to rewrite this before I put it on the blog, change it to something about my lovely M. Or something.

Anyways, back to my chance encounter with this model level hotster this morning on the street corner, beside the flowers. Once I was in seductive mode, nothing could have stopped me from being charming I suppose. She had just commented on how the dog loved smelling flowers, so I decided to respond, in a confident and somewhat scholarly voice, telling the creamy lass, "No, she is not actually smelling the flowers. Indeed, she is after the wondrously rich scent of urine."

I was about to add how much Ruby could decipher from the scent of urine, but the girl must have been really, really dum or something because she looked at me like I had said something rude, or weird or something, and then just walked off...

That's all.



THOU SHALT NOT STEAL THE WRITINGS OF JOHN SCOTT RIDGWAY... YOU CAN EASILY GET PERMISSION FOR A NON COMMERCIAL REPRINT BY CONTACTING MY EMAIL.

.The Elves Attic Live Shows Have Been resurrected. PRAISE DOG!!!!

The Elves Attic Live show has been resurrected. PRAISE DOG!!!!




The cafe where I was holding a literary reading, where I basically read a lot of comedy which got everyone laughing, and a lot of other talented people did their things, closed down and we stopped having our show for awhile.

I miss the scene. One women read chapters from her on going novel about her life with a severely ill child. Another read poems. There was some music. An acapello Doors song that was astoundingly good -- from a drunken lawyer who is one of my most loyal fans and is very cool.

The new show is going to be a little different. I started the old show as a sort of traditional reading but I welcomed any kind of act, where I featured one person or a band, then we took a break and opened up the stage to anything. I always tried to have like twenty minutes worth of material just in case no one showed up, but that never happened.










The new show will emphasize my reading the comedy stories of Johnny Pain. I will go back to the beginning of him in this blog, and read all of his entries. This will all be taped and made available on DVD's... I have all the software to edit the DVD's, so I hopefully those two years of film school taught me something and I can make fun out of the footage. This stuff does make people laugh.

I am not saying this to brag... I am kind of surprised by it. I really was much more into writing serious prose, but then when I started the live show at the same time I started this blog, the comedy got such a good reaction that it kind of took over. I have the drunken georgie boy bush, too... And massah jackoffyhourson. It should be a cool scene. I am kind of the only punkish guy there. If Punk is how my comedy should be defined? I have called the writing different titles in the flyers I passed out all over the neighborhood. I will just make up some temporary definition for the new posters, too, I suppose.



The comedy is serious as hell, I should add, because I am a serious guy... Not morbid or anything, just sort of... Serious.


Ah, the new show . . .



I am going to have bands, a great hip hop guy, Talib, who writes some searing, powerful poetry. The woman I mentioned earlier, who is writing a novel... She may have finished it, but I don't think so? Oh, a lot of people. We will be advertising in the paper in the huge city of Chicago so all kinds of people will show up. Like last time, some will come back and become regulars, etc...

I treat everyone really nicely at these shows, and welcome everyone and kind of make the audience laugh at my little asides between performers. We try to be poet friendly, that was the concept. Because here in Chicago, the Poetry slams began, and they often involve berating the poets and throwing them off stage. I have been in many of them at the place where they started, the green mill. They are mean to the bad poets or anyone who goes on too long. I went on too long once and they started snapping their fingers.,.. But Mark Smith, the host, was into the poem and shushed them. I thought that was very cool. That guy recites poetry at the shows and he is powerful. This goes on every Sunday here in the windy city. I read there when I was thinking I was going to be a poet.
Now I think the poetry was merely good training in how to write power sentences, etc...



I guess this is another one of those entries where I am kind of stepping away from being Johnny Pain and being Scott Ridgway. Scott Ridgway is indeed as pathetic as Johnny Pain, but he is not nearly as funny and interesting. The reason I have not been writing is that I am painting -- and getting some fine results; this new apartment has a sunroom that is my office/studio. It is great. But I promise to come back and be funny again soon.





You know, it's funny... Today went amazingly well for me. I saved like a hundred bucks on something, giving us a bit of extra money, an d then I found out we could do the show at this new cafe, and I spent hours walking the dog and got dragged into lake mich... Did more decorating on the new apartment, hanging pictures and paintings. Today we had cable installed. A big package we are getting cheap for a special. I actually saved some money that I thought I had to spend on that one too. Anyways, the point is that when things really suck I am funny, but when I am all happy and stoned and all, I just want to paint and watch TV and... Just this boring dribble... There is none of the anger.... Righteous indignation... None of the 'my sense of justice is wronged... No one I want to fight... Etc...

I loved today, when a lot of cool things fell into place, and I finished a great (for me) painting ( and have three more I am getting going, and another that is almost done). I keep saying I will get more drawings and the new paintings in here. Saturday I may actually do so... The drawings are very intricate, and will become large paintings... I mean huge... You will see what I mean when you see them. The problem is that I just moved, and cannot find the cord to attach the phone to the damn computer, so I have to go to a friend's' with a similar camera and... A hassle.




Well, on this day of peace, where I walked around the neighborhood all day doing various little chores, the dog at my side, cheerily saying hello to everyone I met, I am blathering.... People usually smile and say hi back. It is something M. And I do as part of our revolution -- we say hello to everyone we pass... Well, at least out in the neighborhoods. Downtown is a different matter, of course. But I walk past people mostly in the park across the street, or on the beach, but also on the streets. I once said hello to this guy as I left to walk the dog, and when I came back he was still there. He told me that he was locked out and having this shitty day and was feeling like hell, but when I said hello to him, he kind of just felt better... Interesting. Some people ignore me. Real cute girls sometimes think I am hitting on them and ignore me. I understand. I hate being seen as prey, too.




Sorry to be so fucking boring. Don't worry, my life will suck again at any second, certainly before the end of the weekend some crises will come up... Dog only knows...




So, hey, did you know that looking at bright colors sets off chemicals in your brain that make you happy? This is why I started painting in the first place, and part of why people get so addicted to doing it. I recommend painting very highly. Just read some books and play around, you will probably be surprised by how good you are. People are always making decisions about colors and stuff with clothes, etc.. So they unconsciously already have a lot of the training that goes into making a pleasing composition with the colors...




Enough of this fucking prattle. Have a good night. No guarantees on tomorrow though... None at all...