if theres one thing my mom likes to talk about it’s the weather

she also likes to talk about her timeshare, probably because she knows that its complexities drive me nuts because it makes me feel dumb.

many moons ago she got a timeshare in Palm Springs.

and like a bratty kid i whined PALM SPRINGS SOOOO BORING!

fast forward to three weeks ago and nearly every day i have been scouring the web for a desert getaway.

my favorite resort out just re-opened and it’s charging $800 for a weekend stay.

and even though i am in no way that financially stable to blow $800 on two days of snoozing under a palm tree next to a pool i have no intention of dipping into,

i keep looking at that price to see if i could will it to shrink.

i paid $400 a month to live in a closet in Isla Vista in a huge house next to the beach.

people would say you pay $400 for THIS?

and i would walk them up to our second floor deck and say, no, i pay $400 for that.

and gesture at the pacific whose waves would crash one after another to the sound of

toe

knee

 

toe

 

knee

 

the purpose of life is to live it.

to wring it out at the end of the day,

put it on a hook

 

sleep the sleep of the just

 

and strap it on the next day.

 

but you do need that rest.

 

you do need to recharge.

 

some things are priceless.

 

and other things cost $800

 

plus food.

what do you do if you saw a perfectly good guitar, alone?

is it a test?

is dumbass ashton kutcher gonna jump outta a taco truck?

is Dateline going to fall from the sky?

are the strings coated with COVID?

are the angels in the Heavens debating the morals between Christians and non-believers and one of them says, oh here comes a Christian, Gabriel, set a perfectly sweet guitar in his path and see what he does

but thats tony pierce, Gabriel says

other angel cuts him off, just do it Gabe. jeeeze!

Gabriel says but but

other angel glares at him and points at his watch DO IT

and i walked by it, investigated it. took exactly three photos of it and moved on.

angels laughed

other angel huffed

Gabriel sighed and says, tony only plays electric guitars

things i wrote for los angeleno last month

birthday

i had terrible writers block last month.

i just coudnt get it together.

i struggled harder than i have — ever. just too much was going on. like all the time. finally i snapped out of it.

how?

i just let that gunk flow through me and waited. and finally it was gone. and i was able to get back to writing.

but if that makes you think i wasnt concerned AF, youd be wrong. fortunately i was able to eek these out:

Why My Girlfriend Doesn’t Want to Eat in a Parking Garage in Glendale

Why Not Just Party if the Cops — and Everyone Else — Are Doing it?

Picking a Psychiatrist’s Brain About Kanye, Racism, and the Rise of Karens

Twitter Sounds Off on Kamala Harris’ VP Nomination

Uber and Lyft Poised to Hit Cancel on California Like the Losers They Are

Who Is That Masked Man Offering Me Pizza?

The Buck Stops Here: NBA, WNBA, MLS and some MLB Games Postponed

i cant pay attention to anything for very long

how do you do it?

my mind is clicking, zipping, changing channels.

do you know how many ideas i have?

when i was in college i was in a poetry class. the nice teacher had a rule: you had to meet with her 2x after class throughout the semester.

the first time i went in there i said, i love your class. she said youre a very good writer. i said thank you! she said but you’re barely getting a B minus. i said, thats actually higher than i usually get in school.

she asked, well hopefully your final will improve your grade. is there anything you wanna talk about?

i said, yes, i have just written a 15 page poem about a girl i made out with over summer vacation. and i would like you to help me with the structure because it changes tempos and styles on every page like a crazy person.

and i gave her a rough draft of The Stamp which, among other things, tries to explain why time flies when youre having fun.

she sat there and read it and laughed and took a red pen to some of the first few pages, but then put it down on page 3 and just read.

when she was done she said, tony i want to ask you something. you halfway through your junior year. there is an exclusive college that i normally teach in where there are no grades, no tests, no finals.

you could write as many 15 page poems you want and not have to worry about B minuses or C plusses.

but it will take you a quarter or two for the approval process to allow you in.

would you be interested in staying at ucsb for two more years with no grades, or would you like to spend the next year and half with grades?

i said, before i answer that, i have a question for you. you say this is the college of creative studies.

i have always wondered about creativity, i said.

she perked up.

i asked, does it go away as you get older? most of my favorite musicians seem to lose their magic after their first few albums.

she said, it never goes away if you practice.

i said

and she said, not tom waits not elvis costello not bob dylan not coletrane or miles not bach

and i would wager, tony pierce will be writing epic love poems until he dies.

that teacher still follows me on facebook and that may be the greatest gift of all.

do you know how long ive been doing this?

writing to you? whoever you are?

telling you the news of the day. the thoughts in my head? my dreams my wishes my annoyances?

when i was in high school i started a diary. it turned into three or four.

it would have been interesting if this blog was like that:

“today dawn colvin winked at me. blew my mind.”

“today the Cubs lost. those bastards!”

yesterday the Black Panther died.

people are sad. and they should be. even though he had been struggling with cancer for years, very few knew about it.

43 years old.

it makes you wonder about all the other people who are fighting actual fights.

not just twitter battles.

not just road rage bickerings.

not just bad neighbors doing weird parking maneuvers during a pandemic.

but real life shit.

shit that would scare the hell out of you if you paid attention.

i cant stop paying attention.

im locked in.

today Black Panther died

he was also Jackie Robinson, James Brown and Thurgood Marshall.

chadwick boseman sure seemed like the most unassuming movie star of them all.

quiet, low-key, reserved.

maybe it was because he had cancer in him for the last four years and maybe he always knew it was going to end in his mid 40s

or maybe he was just the essence of cool.

of all the Avengers was there anyone who walked so softly?

and of all the movies he made, did you ever go into any of them saying, oh yeah this one is going to knock it out of the park?

and yet they all did.

his reward? a couple MTV Movie Awards,  an NAACP Image Award

better.

he got to kiss Lupita

rest in peace my man.

2020 sure is a trip.

i grew up with mad magazine

before that Dynamite

i read the paper every day because of my babysitter. her husband got it.

lots of people i know got it.

or take it as they say.

we used to take the paper but they kept throwing it in the bushes

sometimes my paper ends up in the tree.

it’s a short tree so i kind of like it.

if they could get it in that tree every morning id be stoked.

somehow i made it through the republican convention.

it wasnt as funny as i expected, but it had its moments.

amber kissed me every time someone lied and

that made everything go down a little smoother.

tomorrows friday and my goal is to work all day

so on monday i dont have to kill myself.

after mad i got into Crazy a little

never national lampoon.

but then came Creem

and finally Spin.

the greatest.

everyone says talking to strangers online is a waste of time

but im not so sure.

first off, lots of the people i dont like

would never talk to people on say twitter

especially using their own names.

and who wants to be like the people you dont like?

also how are you going to know about people unless you talk with them?

i have had a great time at Los Angeleno because ive been able to talk with people all over town and they have surprised me every time.

that time i met a couple trump supporters in south LA

that time i had a hard time finding anyone happy that their street got turned into Obama Blvd.

and that time i couldnt find one Uber driver in the whole, crowded LAX rideshare lot who wanted to be an employee of Uber. they said theyd rather quit.

today i wrote about a guy who is a super famous tiktoker who is raking in millions and has handed out pizza to Black Lives Matter protesters, and even built a school in Bali for 200 kids.

and as above, when you talk to people they’ll tell you surprising things.

or at least it surprises me.

this guy says that when he started, after just a few videos, since nobody really clicking his stuff, he was going to quit.

he was going to go home and live with his mom in nyc.

but he was so broke he didnt have enough money to go home.

so as he saved up what he was earning at his dumb job,

HE MADE A FEW MORE VIDEOS.

and as that fateful church street chinese restaurant fortune cookie once said

a flower blooms brightest right before it dies.

and one of the videos he put up when he just didnt give a crap about any more

went viral.

for some reason it took me weeks and weeks to put that story together.

i was blocked. so blocked.

for two weeks my car has been in the shop.

i have zero distractions.

why would i be blocked to tell a sweet tale about a very nice man?

i just was.

sometimes theres no answer for it.

sometimes you just are.

so imma transcribe this next piece right now

if i dont get distracted talking to the people.

dear tony, what do you do about racists?

junior highmama mia

for a long time i tried to ignore them.

i tried to believe that some people are mean and some people just sometimes act mean.

i guess i felt like in this modern world, surely people are smart enough to know whats racist and whats not and they wouldnt act racist to your face.

but either something changed when Trump got elected and they were emboldened or i had just given them more credit than they deserve.

because i am a child of God i dont back down.

i dont think God wants his kids to cower. he wants us to be brave and strong and reflect his coolness — even when we dont feel those things ourselves.

so i dont block them on twitter or facebook or wherever , and if they engage with me, ill engage right back.

if this was the basketball court and two guys showed up talking crazy racist smack, why would you leave? play them. beat them. talk the whole time. run your mouth, make your moves, show them the Black excellence they obviously showed up to witness.

but win. definitely win.

same goes for using words online or in person or wherever.

how is a racist gonna beat me, a person who has written poems and novellas and countless news and opinion articles on the basketball court of Words?

on this blog alone there are over 12,000 posts. how are the ignorant who can barely spell gonna beat me in a tweet or a facebook comment?

use your words.

how do i deal with racists? racists are not my problem.

the demons in my head are.

the ones who say you cant do this or youre too old to do this or that or youre too fat to do this or that or youre not enough this or not enough that.

racists are small potatoes.

small, soft, delicious starch in the Chunky Soup of life.

dunk on them every time and when they’re panting, sweating, and broken, buy them a Coke like the child of God you are.