Believing in the Good...

Surfing news of the day. Yikes. Let's just say the news is off the charts, over the cliff, totally crazy. Local, global, close to home, far from home, no matter. Kooky. Weird. Bizarre.

You wonder to yourself: "Has it always been this crazy?"  You know the life of Human Beings, and all the things they do and believe? 

Yes. Maybe so. Turns out we, collectively are the "problem," and we can be the "solution." We are the double-edged sword. We are truly the tricky, complicated, often quite contradictory, and self-sabotaging monkeys. We think we are the smart species, but you know, maybe not all that smart.

We can do amazing, positive things, but only if we roll our sleeves up and do the good work together. I know, not easy, some days that sounds very far-fetched. It seems we are always in a battle between the good, the bad, the indifferent, the ugly, the beautiful. But I think there is a long story of acheivement: good feeling, positive vibes, good acts, smart politics, progressive outcomes.

We will survive if we believe in the power of the good.  We make this world a better place if we believe in it, and work towards it. Positive. Progressive. Love. Always.

"Surrender Dorothy!"

Back to the power of no. We gladly took on a task, something we've done successfully in the past. We had meetings, we made plans, we started the work, and then we came up against a brick wall. The wall of unknowing. The hard limits of our own competency. We didn't know what we didn't know, and what we thought was going to be a smooth process turned out to be a hard-stop, dead-end. We spent two days pounding against that looming wall and ended up with a headache. One man's simple, intuitive task, can be a total hall of mirrors for another. The dread of failure rose up from deep inside and enveloped us like a black cloud of bad luck and deep futility. The experience stirred up all past experiences of failure and futility. A long, gnarly string of events over many years. We dreaded having to throw in the towel, to make the call, but finally we worked up the gumption to do it. We had to admit defeat, failure, complete futility. It seemed so personal.  We realized we were not as competant, capable and talented as we thought. A hard-earned admission. Afterwards it was like the cloud evaporated and a swift golden light engulfed us. Liberation. Salvation. A deep cleanse, a certain clearing. It was  a reckoning, a realization of our limits. It was totally humbling. Sort of embarrassing, but really there was no way of bluffing thru, no pretending. It finally did seem so right, and so true to admit total defeat. You know, "Surrender Dorothy!" This morning bathing in the glow of a sweet surrender. Relief. 

Excitable & Impressionable...

Closer to home...

I realize I am quite the excitable & impressionable boy. Always have been. So all this meditating, and determined chilling out is just a life-long pursuit of compensating for my usual, changeable, volatile nature. I am always searching for an agreeable steady-state. Trying live a life of healthy balance. But it's always a battle, and does not come easily. I often fail.

When I play music I immediately ignite. As a performer I run hot. As a guitar player I am  bit unruly, wild, unkempt, I break strings with an uncommon frequency, I mean, electric, acoustic, it doesn't matter, I am "the destroyer of strings." It can be annoying. But at the same time, it's what makes me a unique player. My guitar style is the engine for two quite distinctive bands. All the songs start with my simple, un-schooled, approach on guitar. Also, as a result of my string-breaking, I am also really good, and quite fast  at restringing a guitar. Practice makes perfect.

Lately I discovered that my flip-phone's (yes, I still use a flip-phone), operating system is named, KAOS. Ha. My companion laughed at that one. "Of course your operating system is KAOS. No kidding!" And I have a new favorite coffee brew: "Danger Zone." Yes. I mean, fuck it, why not? Live with heart, soul, and honesty, damn the torpedoes.

The Conductor of the Shit-Show...

Trump is the conductor of the Shit-show. His thing is to fling shit in all directions. If he gets called on it, he doubles-down, triples-down, quadruples-down. Everyone within his orbit gets soiled & slimed. It's just an awesome display of superior shit-slinging. Out of bounds outrageous.

The media runs with it. The Republican Party just goes along with it. Some are silent, some join in. It's a major disservice to our Democracy. Trump has found his own "mini-me" in his VP choice Vance. Vance is doing his best to fling shit too. His whole manner and approach is quite vomit-inducing too. You couldn't invent a better one-two-punch of shit & vomit.

I do think finally, finally, finally most of the Country is really tired of the Shit-show. Let those fools fling their shit, we don't have to play along. Giving them any of our attention immediately lowers one's IQ.

What's the alternative? Joy. Intelligence. Good politics. Competence. Decency. Common-Sense. Compassion. Empathy. Yes. Of course. Harris/Walz!

Playing in the Street...

We were back to playing in the street yesterday. There is something so gratifying & rewarding about playing music with our band so close to home, smack dab in the middle of our own neighborhood, surrounded by lots of friends and familiar faces. We are so lucky to know some truly wonderful folks.

We put the bill together, hustled our gear down the street, did the setup and takedown; you know the whole package deal. It's a bit of a circus. "Hey kids, let's put on a show."  It just happens that the street is bounded by the the train-line one side, and looming buildings on the other, which makes for a sonically resonant soundscape.

Lars Von Keist & Scott Free opened the show with a fantastic, dynamic duo set. Heartfelt originals played with fire and passion. Quite thrilling to see & hear two unique souls giving it their all.

whitewolfsonicprincess followed with a full set, old tunes & new tunes brought to life with two special guests, Rich Poston on guitar and Eli Wilson on sax. We felt good about our set. The mix was great. When it sounds good to us, it's easier to find that transcendence in performing. Afterwards smiles all around.

Then it was The Leisure Committe led by Eli Wilson on a classic, legendary, Mark 6 saxophone. A great, super-fun quartet. All great players. How to describe the music? Chill, Space-Age, Lounge Jazz. Great originals and a quirky-cool cover of Spy Vs. Spy. Perfect way to end the show. 

It was good one. That street has a bit of magic in the shadow of the fabulous La Principal restuarant. A thriving little scene. Yes, the Custer Street Oasis. Pretty cool, where the cool cats congregate.

The Hell of Being Him.

If you believe in Hell, (I don't, although in some cases it might come in handy), there is a special place in Hell for Racists, Nazis, "Neo-Nazis," you know folks who like to stir up the Hate and the Division; those twisted and broken people who actually want to attack, deport and persecute other people. Or those who use Hate and Division try to secure positions of power. It's ugly, dastardly, and so un-American.

So yeah, the Bully and his VP pick are stirring up the Hate & dog whistling to the Neo-Nazis.

This is pathetic and terrible. Hard  to believe that the two leading figures of one of the major political parties in America are now trying to incite violence in a small town in Ohio.

The Bully was humiliated in the Presidential debate, so now he doubles-down on Hate. You know, I don't believe in Hell, as a place, as another realm below, but I do believe in the Hell of a Sick & Twisted Mind. That is where the Bully resides: the Hell of Hatred; a Sad, Twisted, Small Mind. The Toxic, Racist Clown & Bully is already in Hell. The Hell of Being Him.

You do not want to be that man. He is in flames now, and he will burn those around him too. We can do so much better: Vote Harris/Walz...

The St. Francis of Assisi Method for Living With Other Beings...

I was in a conversation and this sentence came up: "I wish I was as good as he is at disciplining his dog."  Yikes. That made the hair on my neck stand up.

The whole concept of "disciplining a dog" creeps me out. I have lived with dogs all my life. I am not saying I am an expert, but I have lots of hands on experience (both as an amateur & professional) living & hanging with many breeds, types, sizes, personalities of dogs. 

What is my approach? Think of it as the St. Francis of Assisi Method. Caretaker & Friend to the Dog World. Ha. Not saying I am Saint-like, but I try to walk the walk of Grace, Kindness, Encouragement. Leaning to nurturing, loving, friendly.

How to relate to dogs? Honestly, carefully, consistently. Lots of smiles, terms of endearment. You know, lead by example? Walk and talk with a quiet confidence. 

Very rarely do I raise my voice. Maybe once in awhile a firm "no," or a tug on the leash. That's pretty much it. Pretty gentle. Instead, I am always armed with a kind word and a treat at the ready. I try to tune into my dog-buddies. I think they tune-into me too. 

I do know a few dogs who like to rough-house a bit; they like to wrestle and play. You can play being the "big-dog" with them, and they will love you for it. It can fun and entertaining.

Turns out if you give a dog your best, they will return it. Friend for life. No doubt. There have been a few exceptions over the years. I have had one or two dogs who took one look at me, and no way, no how, were we going to develop a relationship. Gnarly, agressive, violent. Their history, their trauma, their choice. You know, you have to "listen" to the dog. Sometimes all it takes is one look and you and they "know."

Some dogs have been thru such deep trauma, they may be unreachable. Or you know a long-term project? Not my thing. I find that the "problem" dogs usually have "problem" owners. A sticky wicket.

A couple days ago, my partner and were sitting under a tree, our bicycles laying in the tall grass. A woman and her sweet old dog walked by. The dog stopped  in her tracks, took one look at me, and immediately sidled up to me, sat down and offered her paw. How did she know I was a friend? Beats me. Maybe a 6th sense? Anyway, after a few minutes of basking in each other's auras, the woman was ready to move on. She dropped the leash and walked away. Finally, reluctantly my newly-made friend got up and followed her. The power of the dog.

Anyway, now that I think of it, kind words, grace, confidence,  treats, words of encouragement, not only the way to live with dogs, also the way to deal with Humans. The St. Francis of Assisi Method for living with other beings. Highly recommended.

To Know, and to Be True...

This line popped into my head yesterday, during a somewhat confounding conversation, and it's pretty much a touchstone, a bit of a guiding principle that I try to stick to for pretty much everything: "If you want to do it, just do it. If you don't want to do it, don't do it."

I know, maybe not the most profound sentence ever constructed, but it's a thought that rings true, and has worked for me over the years. The trick is to "know thyself," and to be true to that knowledge. I find that my worst decisions, the most unfortunate adventures were when I was influenced by other folks thoughts, wishes, dreams.

Doing anything to please others, or from some misguided sense of guilt, is just the worst way forward. Trying to read other people's minds, wishes, intentions, is a fool's errand. Stick to what you know, for instance, try your best to know who you are, be true to yourself, let those be the guide-rails of your actions. At the same time, know that there is so much you don't know about yourself and the world. Whatever you do know is limited and up for revision at a moment's notice. Still, the basic insight: know yourself, and to be true to yourself, and be honest and true to others too. Really. It's a good starting point.

Nonsense on Display...

I spent yesterday buzzing around town in my Harris/Walz t-shirt. Safe to say in my little blue-bubble town, that t-shirt made me a mini-celebrity. Everyone, and I mean everyone, in my hood was over the top happy and jazzed over Kamala's epic takedown of the Bully (see previous post). How to sum up the collective response: "She burned that mofo down!"

Could this be the end of the era of nonsense? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It would be exciting and encouraging if we could leave the stupidity, the gibberish, the nonsensical & toxic bullshit behind us. We actually need to continue to do the good work, of improving folks lives, making America a better place for all. 

The Toxic Bully is just a relic of a retro-racist-idiocracy that wants to divide people, and to use hatred and fear to gain power. It's so damn ugly. And quite confounding to see that it actually keeps some folks captive to the nonsense. 

It was awe-inspiring to see the Bully revealed as the fraud, the fool, the clown and the bad actor that he has always been. He was nonsense on display. To think that anyone could vote or support that creep is hard to get your head around. "A mind is a terrible thing to waste." Less nonsense, more common-sense, please...

"Donald Trump was fired by 81 Million People." - K. H.

We dreaded tuning in and watching the debate last night. We feel sorry for anyone having to get on a stage with Trump. He is the kind of person you would normally go out of your way to avoid. If you see someone like him in your neighborhood, you would just split, high-tail it out of there as fast your legs could take you. Having to listen to the man speak is like taking your brain out of your head, putting it on the ground, and stomping on it with big boots. Listening to his never-ending torrent of B.S. is like driving a nail deeply into your forehead and twisting it. He opens his mouth, and endless bullshit flows. He is a firehose of lies, stupidities, toxic shite. He is relentless in his toxic idiocy. One has difficulty keeping up with the crazy-ass lies, disinformation and outright insanity. Let's just say the man is completely untethered from reality.

We did tune in. We felt it was our duty. Post-debate: Josh Marshall has a bit of blow by blow here.

My take: it was a fabulous take-down of the Bully. Kamala Harris was magnificent; tough, on point, sharp, tuned into the issues, connecting with the voters, she showed she is ready to be President. She also exposed Trump as an old, tired, toxic Bullshit Artist. He blathered, he babbled, it was a torrent of total toxic shite. Oh he's dangerous too. A threat to our Democracy, and our collective mental health.

My favorite line, amongst many great lines from Kamala: "Donald Trump was fired by 81 million People." Amen!

BTW - after the debate the most famous, wealthy, charismatic and lovely Childless Cat Lady on the scene, Taylor Swift, clocked in: 

taylorswift

 7h

Like many of you, I watched the debate tonight. If you haven’t already, now is a great time to do your research on the issues at hand and the stances these candidates take on the topics that matter to you the most. As a voter, I make sure to watch and read everything I can about their proposed policies and plans for this country.

Recently I was made aware that AI of ‘me’ falsely endorsing Donald Trump’s presidential run was posted to his site. It really conjured up my fears around AI, and the dangers of spreading misinformation. It brought me to the conclusion that I need to be very transparent about my actual plans for this election as a voter. The simplest way to combat misinformation is with the truth.

I will be casting my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz in the 2024 Presidential Election. I’m voting for @kamalaharris because she fights for the rights and causes I believe need a warrior to champion them. I think she is a steady-handed, gifted leader and I believe we can accomplish so much more in this country if we are led by calm and not chaos. I was so heartened and impressed by her selection of running mate @timwalz, who has been standing up for LGBTQ+ rights, IVF, and a woman’s right to her own body for decades.

I’ve done my research, and I’ve made my choice. Your research is all yours to do, and the choice is yours to make. I also want to say, especially to first time voters: Remember that in order to vote, you have to be registered! I also find it’s much easier to vote early. I’ll link where to register and find early voting dates and info in my story.

With love and hope,

Taylor Swift
Childless Cat Lady

Keeping it Simple...

Keeping things simple, and real. Sure. We all want to pursue dreams, but it's important to keep everything real. It helps to always be out in the world, you know, the analog world, the world of trees, grass, sun, blue sky. Doing simple tasks. Getting things done. A simple job, an honest buck. It is a way of finding a place in the world. Sure, it's low-tech, close to the ground. And that's ok. Maybe going against the tide, turning from complexity, sticking to a simple way of life.

Agreeable...

Yesterday. Beautiful out there. Lots of to-ing & fro-ing. If you looked at map of our travels it would just be a series of interlocking circles. Going nowhere fast, spinning, always spinning, wheels furiously turning. It was agreeable.

Non-Folk, Non-Fest...

There is a folk festival in our neighborhood this weekend. It is a two day thing. There is a bit of a buzz in the hood. A big operation. The fest took over our lakefront path. A bank of power generators, lots of fencing, big, fold-out stages, logistically a wide-ranging, quite impressive display. We walked on the periphery. Safe to say we looked like we belonged on a stage. One look at us you'd probably think: musicians. We got close to a stage on the other side of the fence and listened to some sweet harmonies, acoustic guitars and banjos. That's folk music, don't you know?!

My partner thought we should have been in the fest, we did float the idea, but I disagree. Our band has a few folk-rock elements, but really we are a gnarly beast of band that doesn't quite fit in anywhere, except in our own Private Idaho.

Later in the afternoon, we were on the other side of town playing in our own little rehearsal space with a few of our band members. It was exhilarating. We ran thru 2 hours of original music. We created our own little storm. We played to the walls. 5 musicians giving it their all. 

It was so satisfying. No audience. Just us. It was a non-folk, non-fest. It was just the best. Alive in our own little world. Damn the torpedoes.

To the Moment...

There is the long slog, the day to day knocking about, and then, once in awhile there is an unexpected  moment of transcendance. Those special moments just appear. There is no conjuring them, you can't make them happen. They appear, or descend or bubble up. You live for those moments. They light you up, they give everything a glow, but, of course, that light, that glow doesn't last, it always fades. It's just the reality. Nothing lasts, even the things, maybe, especially the things you really want to last. So you get back to the day to day slog, knowing that maybe, sometime in the future, that magic will happen once again. All you can do is be ready. Open. Alive. To the moment.

Power of "No..."

A long day yesterday. Blazing sun. A long, pointless, Sisyphean trek across town with a roiling, boiling, bubbling feeling of deep unease. Sometimes it truly is best to say, "No."  Say it with gusto. There is no sense doing anything out of a sense of guilt, or repsonsibility, especially if the responsibility is just a pose, or an idea of what's happening in other folk's heads. Also, sometimes, even if $ are tantalizing, you don't have to be a slave to the buck. Really.

We took a bike-trip across town to finally work up the gumption to say "No," and the deep unease vanished in an instant. It was like being born again. The Angels gathered around me and started singing a happy song, and all was right with the world once again. On the way back home, we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few supplies. I opted to get a treat, a container of chocolate frozen yogurt.  Yes. Sometimes a small, seemingly insignificant thing turns out to be a big, sort of momentous thing. Chocolate, one of the wonders of the world.

I ate the whole damn thing in one sitting, and well, afterwards I felt like a million bucks. Every cell in my body jumped up and joyously exulted "Yes, thank you!" Turns out there is the power of "no," and the power of "yes," I mean, I suppose it's freakingly, glaringly-obvious, but, fuck, of course, choose wisely Grasshopper...

The soundtrack this a.m. - Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run," (1975). Glorious r&r. Every song on the album fully realized. A total kick of adrenaline. It just sounds so damn good. Energy is Pure Delight...

Simple Conception...

Some folks go in for the grand vision: Heaven & Hellfire. Gods & Devils. 

I lean to a bit more humble conception. All I have to offer, Grace & Light in a dance with a Heavy Clumsiness & Deep Shadow. That's it.

Vibing Along...

Rollercoaster. Yes. It's a wild ride. Up, sideways, down. Typical day. I think we all resonate at a certain frequency. Some of us have a wide variability. Some of us maybe a bit less. Who knows? How is that all determined? 

They say we all have a genetic component. And then you find yourself here now, dealing with the deal.

The highs are high, the lows are low. It is a grand symphony at play in our bones, muscles, tendons, all of the capillaries, and cells of our bodies. 

We play the instrument of ourselves. The days are long and the song refuses to remain the same. We are vibing along. Sometimes high, sometimes low. That's the tune.

I woke up this morning thinking of PT Anderson's great film: "There Will Be Blood." (2007). Blood, oil, religion. That's America. And then I put on a Grateful Dead record and Jerry and company remind me: "Wake up to find that you are the eyes of the world." Yes. Maybe a bit "hippie-dippie," but also perfect. You know pinballing from one mode to another...

It Ain't Easy...

Let's just get this out of the way. Being Human isn't easy. I mean, are you just born into it? Did you ask to be born?  Is this a gift, a sentence, a chore, a fabulous adventure? All of the above?

Being Human comes with lots of expectations, misunderstandings, trials, tribulations, detours, false exits, wrong turns, bad takes, learning curves, surprises, odd occurrances, deep insights, glorious epiphanies, little miracles, and major & minor debacles, slings & arrows, pricks & kicks. Think of your life as a symphony, a 3 act play, a long rambling novel, a weird skit, a throwaway article, a strange, captivating, and confusing poem. Illusioning & Disillusioning at the same time.

Your experience of Life is all your own. All you. Your time & place. It's strange, yes indeed, you are a stranger in a strange land; in this body, this mind, this location on a map. You make of it what you will.

We Imagine a Good Story that Ends Well...

We want to imagine that he makes it...

My partner and I were walking down the lakefront path with a furry friend, a large, athletic dog. Bright, summer day. The path alive with various kinds of people & dogs and modes of transportation: bicycles, roller-blades, scooters, skateboards. Furious, vigorous, summer activity.

We came to a curve in the path, under an enormous, looming tree; in the middle of the path, there was a tiny little baby black squirrel, sitting there, kind of helpless, maybe stunned, not injured, but crawling slowly, tentatively, totally exposed to the elements.

Our first thought: imminent danger. This little creature could be easily crushed, or eaten, or stomped on. I knelt down and scooped him up. I held him in my open hands. He was silent, soft, not moving or struggling, seemingly content to be in my care.

I carried him over  to the tall grass at the base of the tree. Our furry friend was pulling on the leash, eyeing that the little baby creature as a tasty morsel, or a new plaything. Blood, tooth, claw. We turned from the possible bloody murder, to thoughts of care, life and renewal. My partner and I thought: "Maybe his mama is nearby?"  We surmised that he had fallen out of the tree, maybe his nest was up there in the branches, maybe his brothers and sisters and his mama were looking down wondering what's next?!

At least that was our train of thought. On safer ground now, the little baby squirrel crawled to my black boot, and tried to climb on it. Maybe he was thinking that blackness was a friend or a safe harbor? I had a brief mad idea, what if we adopted him, raised him at our little sanctuary home? Maybe we'd be best buddies for life? A cooler, more rational thought prevailed. We put him back on the grass, left him there, and went down the path, hoping for the best for that little buddy.

Later, after a long rambling walk, on the way back, we stopped at the base of the tree to see if there was any sign of our little buddy, or any possible mayhem. Everything was peaceful, quiet and green. We did see an adult squirrel gripping the trunk of another tree, a few yards away, seemingly looking at us. We decided that was a good sign.

We decided that, yes, that must be the mama. The little baby was most assuredly happily reunited with his family. Safe and sound. We really wanted this to be a happy story with a happy ending. So yes, for sure, we think he made it. That's right. Give him a few short weeks, and well, he's gonna grow up to be a fully capable little creature, he's definitely destined for a great, fulfilling life of romping around the park climbing trees, eating nuts and berries. For sure. At least that's the story we imagine.Yes. Indeed. A happy story, a happy ending.

Aesthetically Pleasing...

My partner and I were on the lakefront path, doing a job, walking a strikingly-beautiful, exotic, standard poodle yesterday. I suppose the three of us stood out of the madding crowd. My partner is a gorgeous woman with a million-dollar smile, and a decidedly graceful & slim profile. She always dresses with flowery and flowing fabrics & colors. My standard summer wear: heavy black boots, black jeans, a black r&r t-shirt, I know, not very summer-like, but it's my thing. My hair, wild, unkempt, pretty weird. Anyway, yes, we definitely make an interesting picture, think: Beauty & the Beast with a Poodle.

We were chatting with a friend sitting on a bench taking in the grand lakefront scene; Lake  Michigan, a bold, overwhelming powerful body of water, with beach-folk frolicking in the waves. An uncommonly wonderful day, warm with a nice breeze, blue skies with a few fluffy clouds. A lazy summer day that just seemed to elongate. Pleasure. A day of pleasure and leisure.

A woman and her daughter came walking down the path. They took one look at us and stopped in their tracks. The woman smiled at us, beaming a one-hundred-watt smile. "Can we take your picture? You two are just so "aesthetically pleasing." Ha. We both had to laugh at that one. Maybe a nicer way of saying, "you two are such odd-ball weirdos."

It's funny, we live in a neighborhood where people easily use words like aesthetically, and actually know what it means. We've lived here a long time, and we still feel like visitors, marginal folks living on the margins. It is a neighborhood of wealth & education. We are basically genial hustlers hanging on by thin threads. 

Anyway, we posed, she clicked, and then they went on their way. Our friend on the bench shouted after them that the two of us had band, that we had an upcoming show in October on Halloween, and she added "I'm not their manager."  Funny. We kind of wished she was our manager.  We said our goodbyes and continued down the path. That was quite the little scene. It was an ever-expanding day. Definitely aethetically pleasing in all ways. A good one.