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journalWelcome to my online journal. I'm Alex Mead. For many years people called me AMPro --so much so that it seemed like my name. More recently, a lot of people on the internet have come to know me as green.earth.al and in show biz...My Rap Name is Alex. Whatever name I'm known by, I still seem to have the same opinions and convictions, I still like to write and make public my introspection and try to say something that will provoke some thoughts and help people see the world in new and helpful ways.
March 2006
this journal entry posted on March.19.2006


Buffalo has some of the best protests. People who are standing in the downtown wind tunnel when it's 20 degrees out have to be pissed off. It's really not an activity for the mildly unhappy. I finally got to reconnect with a ton of old friends yesterday. I had felt like I just travel in different circles from my activist buddies lately, but yesterday I was able to free up my schedule, attend the Mar.18.2006 demonstrations, collect about a half a hundred hugs, sell a couple of my books, and read a brief bio about a fallen solder to a crowd of pissed off Buffalonians.

Being the Boss:

I was able to free up my schedule because, the person making the schedule... is me. Yeah, I've been at this job for 6 months. My boss goes on a 10 day vacation and the person tapped to take over is yours truly. Means a nice 10 day pay raise and a little more schedule flexability and a lot more responsability. People getting paid depends on me. That's spooky. So far I'm doing really well.


So yeah. I wrote that new song. I've performed it about a million times to the audience of tires at work. Now it's time to take it for a spin and perform it for audiences of people.

With all of the crazy responsabilities of work, I am really going to burn myself out trying to squeeze all of these performances in at the same time. But, meh, you're only young until you get old. I am gonna perform my new piece about 3 times in the next 4 days probably.

Mar.19.20067:00PPoetry: Liz Mariani (open reader slots, I'll prolly read)@ Rust Belt Books
Mar.20.20067:00PSubversive Thearte (I might be performing with the Flaming Humvees)@ Hallwalls
Mar.22.20068:00PMass Ave Project Open Mic@ Mass Ave Project Community Center

After next week I'll probably be dead from exhaustion. Leave me comments while there's still time.



Hurry Up and Weight
this journal entry posted on March.11.2006

Hurry Up:

My life is pretty out of control. I figure I'd go for a while without taking on any major projects and I could start to get caught up on the little things.

No such luck. The deluge of little things is unending and I can't even seem to get the least of them finished. Somehow I am good at getting a whole big intricate and complicated book written, but assign me the task of getting caught up on my email. Sigh. Even breaking it down into small chunks: Get caught up on last week's email. Hopeless.

I saw my friend Christina the other day and she asked me if I was still her friend anymore. Sincerely asked me. I think I owe her an email and a phone call and I haven't been to church to see her in a while.

So. Okay. It kinda sucks that we've come to live in a society where we'll move mountains and marshes to get to work on time, but we have to relegate our friends to "as time permits" status.

I'm really glad there are scheduled friend times in my life like the Housing co-op dinner and the dinner co-op at the Mass Ave community center or I'd probably have no friends that I ever see on a weekly basis.

Humanity can do better than this. What are we waiting for?


I stopped weighing myself many years ago. The two main reasons for this are: One, I really do believe in all of that stuff I say about weight being a rather unimportant determinant in terms of fitness. All of that stuff about muscle mass density vs. fat tissue density and things like water retention and bone structure make comparing your weight against others or even, sometimes, to what your own weight has been, rather meaningless. The second reason, well, my weight rarely ever changed. I had weighed around 250 pounds for nearly ten years. During that time I had gone through periods where I worked out a lot and got slimmer or became sedentary and put on winter layers or whatever and through it all I would weigh nearly the same.

So I haven't stepped on a scale in the last 5 years or so, and haven't wanted to.

I am suddenly curious.

Yesterday at work it occured to me that when I first started working at my job I used to stand on the deck plates at work and they would reluctantly sink down. Now I stand on the deck plates and they just sorta stay there. I have to stand on them and push against the wall or drive over them with the heavy machinery to get them to go down now.

I dunno. Seems like a clue that my weight may have changed significantly. It's still not like I care a whole ton one way or the other. My fitness level is really good these days. But... it just seems like a relevant piece of data to have. Y'know. Like in case a big bag of bunny rabits is sinking into a river of moltent lava and a group of people are hanging onto the other side of a rope thrown over a tree branch trying to counterweight and pull it back from the brink. You know, and the one fella on the end shouts out "We need at least 240 lbs more for this last little bit of rope we have!" I don't want to go volunteering for something I'm not qualified for, y'know, with a bag of bunnies on the line and all.

I <3 Buffalo!!!
this journal entry posted on March.08.2006

Yesterday was not an especially out of the ordinary day for me. By that I mean in a lot of ways it was my typical day. That's why I love Buffalo so much. So many of my days are so much more interesting/fun/spiffy-keen/entertaining than I generally expect days to be.

Started off, normally enough, waking up to the alarm clock blaring out WHLD, our new progressive radio station that I got to watch as it was born, grew, crawled, and took it's first steps. Spent hurried minutes wiching I wasn't always in such a rush in the morning, wishing I had a few minutes to call into the radio station and say something that would inspire people to think about things or remember something important.

Went to work and packed two and a half trucks full of tires while I rehearsed my new rap song to my captive tire audience. Came home lamenting how cash strapped I was at that particular moment (my wallet, completely empty, my coat pocket reduced to literally pennies).

I wasted a coupld hours with the crazy internet (which is getting to be worse than tv. I don't think we're using this thing right).

I went to the Dinner Co-op. I have already paid way in advance so I didn't have to worry about money. I could just sit down and have a great healthy meal that the awesome people in my community cooked. Lots of great familiar faces, plus, lately there've been old friends that I haven't seen in a long time and new people to meet. PLUS, then as we were standing around waiting for food, my friend Aaron paid me some money he had owed me on one of my books that he bought a few weeks ago. Yay! Don't have to wait for payday to eat or ride over to the money co-op.

So then there's this new Hip Hop assemblage that's forming. The attendance last night was not encouraging, but, whatevs. There are lots of really great people associated with that group and it's gonna do great things. So we were told to bring some Art to share or something and have a go around and present what it is that we do in Hip Hop. So, it was my turn and I asked the good professor Kush B if he wouldn't mind breakin me off one of those beats. And then I KILLT it.

Buffalo has many great beatboxers. It's so awesome to be at a Mass Ave Project open mic and just call up one of my friends and collabo over a funky beat. But Kush is somewhat of a beatboxing institution. He's amazingly amazing in an amazing way. He kept it simple so I could just go all lyrical and what not, but I rank it up there with the time I got to act with Manny Fried or open for Ralph Nader.

Buffalo has all kinds of CRAZYness around every corner. It's a really hard place to live. But it's always worth it at harvest time. Sometime's I can't believe I get to live here. Of all the places I could have been born. Good job mom. Always thinkin.

Photojournal: The Journey to Work
this journal entry posted on March.01.2006

This is the scene outside my front door.

At the foot of the stairs is my trusty bike that has transported me more'n a thousand miles in the last couple years. It was a really good gift from a really good friend JimW.

A block away is the High School that I attended 18 to 22 years ago.

A couple miles toward work and I pass this play area for a day care center. The children don't get to play on grass, but at least they have colored the artificial surface green for them, to sort of almost remind them of grass. There is a busy highway that runs behind the playground so that their developing little lungs can get the monoxide that they need. Also there is a busy street that might as well be a highway that I ride my bike on to ensure that they get car exhaust from both directions. Plus there's a boat shop attached to the day care center for bonus random chemicals.

About a half mile later I get to ride along the mighty Niagara River. In previous years the river used to freeze over in the winter. But that hasn't happened for the last few years.

This sprawling industrial fascility is where I work. We cook rubber and mold it into tires and then I throw them into big trucks.

Before I started throwing tires I used to work as a security guard in a little tiny shack (pictured here). A very nice little 8 by 8 cell where I would do 8 hours of time at a time for 8 dollars an hour.

An okay job for a while, but I'm glad not to be doing that any more.

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