It seems karaoke could be added to the list of “boys, burgers, booze” that Teebs uses to escape, though definitely doesn’t have the alliteration.In one section, the speaker says “Wanting to get away is itself a kind of escape.” Is the desire to escape, as well as the fantasy of the Muse, a survival instinct or something more meaningful/fulfilling? TP: It’s always a means to an end, though I’m not sure Teebs always knows which end he’s pointing towards, you know?My other first memory is of a different auntie’s red baseball jacket at a funeral, but that’s another story.GH: One thing I love about IRL is all of the stories and the way they capture the cultural dissonance of life on the Kumeyaay reservation and life in New York, particularly well-captured in the way you describe the disconnect Teebs experiences on the dating scene there.Sometimes I write just to make sense of my thoughts. If I write it down and begin to dissect it, the answer will eventually rise from the details. It turns out there are a lot of people trying to solve for the same solution. The greatest thing about listening to a sad song when you're feeling lonely is that it means you aren't the first or only person to feel that way.
Is your inclusion of them natural to your voice, or is there a more conscious decision being made to capture the way language is evolving and/or exists at this particular moment in time? Unconsciously maybe it gave me a kind of permission to be less manicured verse, and more mess queen–which in it’s own way perhaps captures the way language evolves as a function of its usage to communicate in a rapidly changing world. TP: I’m about to go on a little tour of the Northeast, which will be challenging and hopefully fun.
There's a theory that nothing exists outside of the present moment.
Teebs chases after an ever-shifting “Muse” through New York City nightlife, dating apps, and weekend trips to the Hamptons, while wrestling with his past growing up on the Kumeyaay nation reservation as well as his inherited ancestral trauma caused by generations of racist policies of “Occupied America.” Teebs observes the way Native American life and tradition is preserved in museums and history books and comments sarcastically–or perhaps simply repeating what someone else has said to him–“You don’t want your / stories wiped out / when you are.” He reflects, “Internalizing inevitable annihilation, / the brain buffers.” GINA MYERS: One thing that I have been interested in lately is considering how trauma experienced in childhood or from one’s environment continues to affect one’s present and future.
One of my earliest memories is being at a softball game on the rez and an auntie walking back to her seat from going to the bathroom just as someone hit a homerun.
The crowd stood up cheering, and she did a three point bow like they were applauding her having pee’d and it still cracks me up.