A Magical State

And then you throw logic out the window.

And then it's magic to which you give yourself.

Story of the Road

Being a man in this world is a lonely road. A lonely road populated with billions of people. It's a long meandering road dotted with billions of needing, wanting, grasping pilgrims.

Which might seem sort of ridiculous.

That's part of the kick of the journey. It's a feature. Slogging down that lonely road - feeling foolish.

You are an asymmetrical being in a totally symmetrical world. You are all sharp edges and twisted angles and you're always bumping into things.

That's your life dude. And the cuts, the lumps, the bruises, the scars? Those are badges and medals and little markers reminding you of the story of the Road.

Tunnel Vision!

Tunnel Vision.

It's very good for digging tunnels!

IN PRAISE OF LOOTING...OR..."You must be honest, to live outside the law." - Dylan

Let's say there was a major catastrophe in your homeland. Maybe a hurricane, or an earthquake, or a horde of little green men blasts a hole in the artificial fabric of your reality.

Let's say there's no electricity. No food. No water. All the basics of survival are up for grabs.

Now you and I we figure we have to make it. No matter what.

So we go to the Supermarcado in our neighborhood, and we commandeer a couple of stray shopping carts and we start grabbing stuff like drunks at a strip club. We fill our shopping carts with all kinds of stuff and then we blow out of there. We head to our dark, blasted hovels and feast on our goods.

And some one back in their safe European home says "Why that's "LOOTING?!? Where is the military? Where be the cops?"

LOOTING?! Really? And you value property over people? Really?

Pastor Waits

Listening to the radio this morning. Folks are lamenting their losses in the stock market. Trillions of dollars evaporated in the Big Financial Cesspool.

I think Tom Waits summed up the financial thing in a song he recorded in the late Seventies:

The Large Print Giveth, and the Small Print Taketh Away!

Wake Up Dead Man!

It turns out our good friend Keralee is a Yogi. She teaches Yoga. I've never Yoga-ed until now. Since we opened our Black Forest Space we've been looking for things to do when we're not rehearsing or doing a show, and Sunday mornings are now all about Yoga.

A few neighborhood folks are into it. I decided to jump in the Yoga pool myself. So, I brought over a rug, (I haven't worked up to an official Yoga mat yet!), and gave it a go.

Some in the class (the Lovely Carla for instance) are Yoga pros. Still, I've decided no Yoga Envy for me. I'm just happy to get through the session in one piece.

I set up in the back row, so no one can really watch me stumble through the poses. I did my best not to hurt myself. I must say, Keralee really put us through the paces. I worked up a healthy sweat.

You must leach the poison out!

So I found some new muscles I never knew I had. Turns out all that running has made my legs tighter than the bark on a tree (or is that tighter than a bark on a rapid dog?). My favorite part was at the end - Corpse Pose. Alive and playing dead on my rug. Just like kindergarten!

Big, cartoony, funny, ominous.

We went to the Art Institute yesterday. A field trip: Free February at the 'Tute. Took the Red Line all the way into the heart of the Loop. The Museum was jam-packed with people.

Free is good. We wandered through the New Wing. Saw Wm. Eggleston photos of the south in early 60's - mid 70's. Big colorful portraits, small black and white snaps. A hushed beauty to the work - the American South - a sad and vibrantly weird place.

Then we trekked over to the Modern stuff. My favorites: Francis Bacon, Philip Guston, Jean Miro and Jean Dubuffet. I always get dizzy going to museums - maybe too many people, too much conflicting energy coming from the pictures.

I find it confusing - especially so many works crammed together without any context except - it's here in a museum - this place now. The mind reels - why these works? Why these artists?

Every time I go something new calls out to me. I guess this time it really was the room with the Philip Guston stuff. Big, cartoony, funny, ominous. I think that kind of sums up my world too.

A Joyful Sadness

As WhiteWolfSonicPrincess, the Lovely Carla and I having been writing songs. Turns out many of them are sad songs.

It's funny, there is such joy in writing and singing these songs, but they are dark and sad. We aren't dark and sad, but the music seems to come out that way.

Still, I think the joyous energy of their creation is also alive in the material. It has been a beautiful and profound collaboration for the both of us.

For a taste of what we've been doing we've posted some new live tracks at our site here.

I wonder, if we were both on The Meds would we sound like ABBA? Why is it that sometimes joy and pleasure seem shallow, and sadness and pain seem deep and profound? Maybe it's just a vibration thing.

Joy and pleasure are a higher vibration. Sadness and pain a lower vibration. So a joyful sadness ( the divine dialectic) would be absolutely sublime!

Snappy Questions - Fuzzy Answers

Question: Is there an objective reality?

Answer: Well, I guess it depends how you define objective. And how you define reality. And just who is the "you" that's gonna do the actual defining?

And you have to wonder if the definition has anything to do with reality anyway. And just what is reality? And how do you assume an objective posture if you're just a human being walking around on a spinning globe in the middle of a big old universe? And really as human beings can we really all agree on anything? And do we want to live in a world where everyone agrees about anything? And if we can't agree about anything how do we get anything done? And just why is the world so cocked up?

Anyway, I hope that helps. But I doubt it.

A Hollow Husk of a Place!

I think this is certainly the story of our era: Wall Street's Bailout Hustle. No one has done a better job reporting and writing about it than Matt Taibbi in Rolling Stone.

It's clear the wealthy folks of this country have scammed the rest of us. And the filthy rich (they are not filthy rich because they are smarter than the rest of us, they are just privileged crooks!) are playing the Feds for total patsies. Are the Feds just total saps or willing accomplices? Maybe both?!

This is a must read. What a Con game. What serious freaking money. We were so worried about foreign terrorists somehow destroying Fortress Amerika. Guess what? It turns out Wall Street, all those button downed bankers and traders burned the house down.

Our Empire is now a hollow husk of a place. We be Zombie Nation now. If there were still debtor prisons we'd all be on our way there now! Holy shit.

Surrealistic Pillow Talk

The Lovely Carla talking about one of our lovable but hard-core crazy friends: "She's a realist."

This sent me off on a mind-reeling adventure:

Visions of flaming giraffes, melting time-pieces, psychedelic colors, disappearing walls, fractured pictures, animal heads morphing into appliances, appliances acting like children, men and women as gibbering popsicles, all accompanied by Enrico Morricone-like soundtrack music punctuated with Theremins and glockenspiels.

sunnyjimmy: "Oh yes, and I'm a Surrealist!"

Meat on the Hoof!

OK. I'm a Centaur.

A pissed off Centaur.

Moving. Charging forward.

I don't know where I'm going. I'm leaping about. Just going!

I just want to feel something. I'm sick of waiting.

"I know I've dreamed you, a sin and a lie..." - Jagger/Richards

Kind of in a haze this morning.

I'm wandering around the web and came across Kim Morgan's post on Sunset Gun about my favorite decadent rockers the Rolling Stones and their beautiful song "Wild Horses."

Kim says everything and more you want to know about the song. It's one of my absolute favorites too, probably the best "love song" Jagger/Richards ever wrote and recorded.

A great little write-up, plus there's some cool pictures too...

Rationality - The Mask!

We unplugged and went to a movie yesterday afternoon. A sort of gloomy Saturday afternoon. We sat in the dark and entered Martin Scorsese's "Shutter Island."

I totally surrendered to the film. It had me from the first scene to the last. It's a work that masterfully captures a certain time and place - 1950's America. Leonardo Dicaprio is so good. He is truly one of our most gifted actors.

Also, of course Ben Kingsley and Max Von Sydow - what can I say - movie magic!

I love how the camera moves in a Scorsese film. This will remind you of Hitchcock - it almost feels like it was made in the 1950's.

And who are the mad ones and who are the sane ones? This movie is a glorious mind-bender. Highly recommended!

I Love Yoko Ono

I love Yoko. I love this photo - Yoko, Eric Clapton (Is that a look of supreme befuddlement on Eric's face?) and Sean Ono Lennon. I love this story. I love the Plastic Ono Band.

Yoko is probably one of the most famous conceptual artists who ever walked the planet. She's famous for hi-jacking one of our most beloved Pop Cultural Icons and taking him in a completely Un-MopTop-Type direction.

It was a love and art thing beyond compare. She suffered lots of abuse and ridicule for loving and collaborating with a man.

Still, she powered on and has continued to make great, challenging work all these decades since we lost Beatle John to a madman.

I find Yoko one of the most inspiring people I've ever come across. Love her music, her style, her mind.

She is the ultimate artist and poet. Always ahead of the curve...

2/18/10

WhiteWolfSonicPrincess Tour Diary:

6:00 p.m. - Stop at the coffee shop to get a caffeine fix. Back at the apartment pop in a new battery for my delay pedal, tune up guitar, put it in my beat-up guitar case, close it by wrapping a belt around it - probably time to get a new case. Carla is ready - she's got her music stand, her tambourine, hair curled. We get on the EL and head to the big city.

7:00 p.m. - We disembark at Addison. Clark and Addison. Wrigley Field - a big silent stadium in the dark winter night. This area of the city is sports bar heaven. Lots of neon. Shiny and friendly places - wood and silver - dedicated to sports and beer. Arrive at the Goose Island Beer Pub - a magnificent bar - kind of like the Chartes of beer joints. Long bar, big booths, lots of artery clogging food, big vats of beer - this is where the golden liquid is made.

8:00 p.m. The band trickles in. I have it easy. Just my acoustic guitar and a couple of effects pedals. I feel sorry for the drummer - it's all about setup and tear down with the show kind of shoe-horned in the middle. The sound guy is helpful. We're a pretty elaborate outfit now - bass, drums, electric and acoustic violin, the Lovely Carla and I. We do a sound check. It's a big room, large stage, nice lighting. It's a little strange - we're used to playing in a circle all connecting, the stage setup kind of works against our tight circle of communication.

9:00 p.m. The show goes well. The room is dotted with friends. A small but enthusiastic audience. We feel pretty good. No major glitches. Carla is singing with power and authority. My guitar sounds a little weird to me. We are so used to our little rehearsal space. Always need to adjust to the moment.

9:45 p.m. Another show under our belt. You have to approach each show as if it's that last stand. And then chalk it up to the next step in the process. It's all just an unfolding. Our band is really starting to jell. The sound is still evolving. It all felt good. My friends from Famous in the Future - Frank and Terry, tell me we sounded "Prog" - prog rock?! My great friend Ken tells me we sounded "Stonesy" - ala the Rolling Stones, and then someone else says we sounded: "indie-country-rock-punky-tori amos." Wow.

12:00 a.m. We hitched a ride home with our bass player. Sitting watching Craig Ferguson on the box. Man, that guy is funny! Hard to come down after a show. Hit the pillow and think about fighting windmills and grabbing circles of gold...

How Many Monkeys to Wire a Tele?

If someone took apart my Telecaster Thinline guitar they would find a mess of wires and solder. I've taken the thing apart so many times, the patient is getting restless. It's kind of like a gall bladder operation over and over and over.

I've done all kinds of experiments and mods. Changed the pickups repeatedly; went from the standard setup to Texas Teles then pulled those guys out went back to standard and then ordered up some Seymour Duncan Hot Rails and installed those sleek black humbuckers. Lined the inside with copper tape, then pulled the shit out. Pulled out the 3-way switch and put in a 4-way switch.

Wired and then unwired and then rewired, then unwired, then rewired. I kind of did the Monkey Tech thing. I had 4 different wiring diagrams. They were all contradictory. I ended up wiring and unwiring until finally the thing worked right.

The inside of that poor sucker really is a mess. The solder job looks like a Jackson Pollock painting gone wrong, a study in silver. I must admit, I've taken the thing apart and put it back together as some kind of therapy. For some reason I like taking the damn thing apart.

But finally, I think it's done. Last night I put the Tele through it's paces at a Telepaths rehearsal. Man that thing played hot! I think my crazy ass tech approach actually resulted in a pretty unique guitar sound. And those humbuckers are so quiet - with a robust mid-range. Sweet!

Invited to the Table

You've got to check out this new site called, Creative Roundtable. As their mission statement makes clear:

"If it’s about the care and feeding of your creativity, it’s game on!"

It's created and hosted by two very creative, dynamic and dazzling women, Kris Cahill and Debi Cates.

The Lovely Carla submitted a couple posts on Thinking Outside the Tool Box. Plus there's folks from all kinds of disciplines talking about their process and discoveries.

It was great to be invited to The Table, what a cool place to be!

Emerging From the Egg

Emerging from the egg. I know it's a long time coming. I didn't even realize I was in an egg. It was an egg of my own making. Or maybe I inherited it. I was comfortable in there. But I started bumping up against the sides. And cracks started appearing.

I kicked my way through and emerged into blazing sunlight. Who would of thunk it? That big old sun has been waiting for me. I mean it's much bigger than me, doesn't even notice me. But it's been there ready and willing to shine down on my meagerness. And it's warm and giving. And the golden light is everything.

Law of Ever-Increasing Returns

Trying to figure out

a revenue model

for a life of

Creativity,

Magic

and Shamanism...

FROG VS. LENIN - EPISODE ONE

Frog: Aaahhhoooogaaaa!

Lenin: I'm sorry Comrade. That is not how frogs talk where I come from.

Frog: Ribbet?

Lenin: Dah! So much more froggy!

Zero Hedge: We are All Insolvent

Is this true? Is the world insolvent? Beats the hell out of me. But something rotten does seem to be floating in the political and economic swamps.

I've been getting this "world out of control" feeling a lot. Doesn't really scare me, I'm not a Chicken Little. If the sky's falling, I'll probably just sit back and watch it collapse on my head.

And then where will I be? Beats me.

So I read a lot of this stuff that seems plausible. I check out the numbers and charts not really grasping it all. I mean, if everyone is insolvent, doesn't that mean that no one is insolvent?

If we all just pretend, won't everything just be OK?! Can we all just print up more money and roll around in the stuff?

I know it doesn't sound like a great plan, but what else we gonna do? Beats me.

Blake and the Eternals

"Inspiration & Vision was then & now is & I hope will always Remain my Element my Eternal Dwelling place." - William Blake

Welcome to the Grinding!

I heard a phrase this morning that has kind of been circling around in my head like a hungry buzzard...

"The unrelenting, remorseless, grinding of events."

Isn't that what we call a life well-lived?!

Everything is Broken

Dylan once (1989) wrote a song called "Everything is Broken."

I think he was just a little ahead of the curve. Which is what we expect from our prophets.

Seem like every time you stop and turn around

Something else just hit the ground

Our Bubble Empire has popped. Turns out Global-ism is the ism that killed us.

I think the aftermath is gonna be a long time coming. Probably good for art. And barter. And drugs.

?

I'm so full of questions. My life is all about questions. They fill me. They haunt me. They occupy me.

I look in the mirror and all I see is a big, fat question mark.

????

Days of Reckoning

There's always the day of reckoning.

The mystery is who keeps the accounts?

How are the debts totaled?

And what of grace?

Does it add up?

And what of good intentions?

Do they have any substance?

A Joyful Noise

We played our favorite open mic last night. Our new violinist joined us. We brought such energy and passion to the place it was almost like the room levitated.

I realize it's not so much the music, although, of course it is the music, not so much what we play, of course it is what we play, but more than anything, it's the passion we bring to our songs that makes it magical, amazing.

The three of us played and sang with such confidence and passion, it carried us beyond the music into some kind of spiritual/energy field.

For about ten minutes time stood still. And the room was just pure sound. Now that's something!

The Elbo Room is Primo!

The Elbo Room in Chicago really is a great rock club. We were the openers last night. A Friday night and the place was hopping. The other acts were all pretty much hard core rockers. Our set was sort of an outlier.

We gave ourselves a B minus. We were a little rough around the edges. It's so weird, we've rehearsed these songs, but put us in a new room with a different sound system and everything seemed a little off.

Still by about the third song I think we hit a groove. Surprisingly our drummer showed up last minute. Didn't know he was gonna make the show. It was great to debut the new lineup. We are all so excited by our new sound. It is still coming together.

This morning I hear people from all over the country and Korea tuned into the web-cast. Now that's freaking amazing! WhiteWolfSonicPrincess flies!

All That Jazz

"It's show time folks!" - Joe Gideon/Roy Scheider/Bob Fosse

WhiteWolfSonicPrincess at the Elbo Room Chicago

WhiteWolfSonicPrincess are openers Friday Feb. 5th at 8:30 CST at the Elbo Room in Chicago. Supposedly, if the technology works, if you can't make it live, you can watch the show via the web.

Below is a link.

This show will feature, me, the Lovely Carla and Michael our new violinist. About a 20 minute set. Should be interesting. The Elbo Room is a nice Chicago hangout. The sound at the club is excellent. I hope it all translates via the internet.


Watch this show and more at SyncLive.com

Honey-Pot Chronicles

jimmydumps (dyspeptic, poetically over-wrought): I have bitten the bitter fruit of life and my heart is poisoned.

sunnyjimmy (cloyingly cheerful, ever-smiling): Dude. Just... spit... it... out!

Joy of the Falling Rock

I went through my existentialist phase. I read Camus. I digested his famous essay on Sisyphus.

Sisyphus rolls a rock up and hill. He gets close to the top, and then inevitably, it escapes his grip, it falls back down. Thus showing the ultimate futility of all human action.

Sisyphus of course does this over and over for eternity. It is a punishment.

Yesterday, many decades after I read that essay it finally dawned on me that there's another interpretation of the myth.

Sisyphus burned a lot of calories getting that rock up the hill. It was hard work. But when he finally got it to the top he just let it go! Why? He loved to watch it roll! It is entertainment!

FROG VS. LENIN

I've decided I'm actually a conceptual artist. Kind of in the mode of Damien Hirst. Maybe without the brilliance; certainly without the rich patrons, the big bucks and the world renown.

No, I haven't dissected any sharks lately. But I did put together a little sculpture piece in the window of our new Black Forest art space.

I'm calling this one Frog VS. Lenin. It is a one of a kind. Of course it has a back story. It is a major statement on life in the 21st century, but I'm not talking.

Any wealthy collectors out there? For a ridiculously outlandish price, I can recreate this for you in your own space.

Saturn Circles - People are on the Move

We get these cryptic messages from a "trans-medium" in the neighborhood. We call him "The Running Man" because he likes to sing and chant on street corners while he "runs in place."

He sometimes does this for hours at a time. He has incredible energy and he is totally musical. He is most certainly channeling some wild-ass frequency which other people just can't access.

For some reason he is totally "lit up" around the Lovely Carla and I. We have some kind of cosmic connection with him.

Maybe it's because we are not afraid of him, don't ignore him, we actually smile and acknowledge him. He says interesting things all the time. We have actually gotten some ideas for songs from things he's said.

The latest line, which we put into song form yesterday - "Saturn Circles. People are on the move."

Bottle the Sound

We finally got everyone in a room together yesterday for a full band rehearsal. It was very intense. Guitar, bass, drums, violin, voices.

It was totally exhilarating.

Everyone in the room could feel something special happening. Some of the players are old pros, so it's kind of amazing how "blown away" they were by the sound we were creating.

The vibrations of the sound actually knocked the paintings on the walls off-kilter. Folks on the street were pausing before the door of our space to listen.

One guest of our rehearsal told me he was on the verge of tears from listening to our "beautiful" songs. I was totally wasted and drained at the end of the session.

I wonder if we can bottle this sound? Capture the butterfly? Keep the band together? There is something going on here. So exciting.

Zen Thing

And then the Zen thing might be to just let it all come down.

With your eyes closed.

In that case, down and up are kind of a relative state.

Know Nothings

Nobody knows.

Nobody knows nothing.

A double-negative.

Does that mean

Somebody knows something?

No.

Nobody knows nothing.

And there's absolute joy in that fact.

A New Egg

I voted for Obama. I like Obama. I want Obama to succeed.

I'm beginning to think he is trying to put together a Humpty Dumpty that is still slowly exploding into a million tiny pieces.

Maybe his job is to pretend the exploding isn't happening. Maybe all those wealthy people in the Halls of Congress can pretend too.

Maybe there is no putting Humpty Dumpty back together again. Maybe we need a new egg. Or we need to make an omelette or a souffle out of the wreckage of the old egg.

Something is missing in our national conversation. And the silence of the missing is deafening.

A Lot of Ears

We have a band called WhiteWolfSonicPrincess. It's one of those names that sort of rolls off the tongue, but doesn't easily stick in people's heads.

We often have to repeat it slowly, over and over to someone new to the band. Sometimes we shorten it to WWSP. There's always some head-scratching over that too.

I came up with the name on a whim. Sometimes you are stuck with your whims.

Anyway, we have breached the over 10,000 plays mark over at MySpace. It sort of seems like an accomplishment, although it's really just a virtual accomplishment or maybe it's just a "psuedo-event," kind of like a virtual mirage.

Admittedly, some of those plays were just the Lovely Carla and I listening to our own music, which is kind of a self-reverential kind of thing to do, but hell, if you can't indulge your own whims, who can?

So yes, over 10,000 plays of our songs. A lot of free listening. Won't buy a cup of coffee. Still it's kind of cool to think that some of our songs have found life out in the virtual environment.

BTW - if you get a chance go over to the site and check out "Shadow Boxing." It's a rough rehearsal version of a new song featuring our new violin player and our new bassist. It's a little raw, but a new sound is emerging. Very exciting.

WWSP lives!

Tiger in Sex Rehab!

Finding humor in other people's misery is not a very enlightened past-time. On the other hand, sometimes you just have to laugh.

I found this story about Tiger Woods going into Sex Rehab pretty funny. Pretty lame too.

I mean, my god, please help this poor man! He's been having way too much sex with way too many dazzlingly beautiful women for his own good.

I sure hope he kicks such a nasty debilitating habit. Maybe we should pray for Tiger?!?

Hell Hound on My Trail

It's true there are dogs from hell. Hell Hounds. I know you're probably thinking Cujo - a black mastiff, flaming red eyes - a figment of Stephen King's fevered brain.

I'm here to tell you that the true Hell Hound is a brown-eyed, fluffy white Labra-Doddle named Happy. He' got me on the run. He haunts my dreams. He wears on me, weighs on me. He is pulling me down into the pit of despair.

I'm doing all I can to get this beast behind me. He is a marvel of pure appetite.

His fur clings to anyone who touches him. His fur is toxic. I'm choking on his fur. I have become his best friend, his only connection to life.

I need to get away from this creature. And fast. I'm sure there is a circle of hell known as "Happy's Circle."

The Why Not Universe

"You mean you believe in Ghosts?"

"Why not?"

The Ghost of Lombardi

The Ghost of Vince Lombardi made a visit. He kicked my ass. He was smoking a ciggy and had a glass of bourbon in his hand. I almost got lost staring at the little gap in his toothy smile.

The Ghost of Vince Lombardi was in a good mood. Adversity always just gives the old Ghost a kick in the drawers.

He tells me, he's been watching us. Figures Old Glory is looking pretty tattered. Riddled with parasites who are sucking the life out of our blessed country. The Ghost of Vince Lombardi knows that the country was founded on blood. It's been blessed by blood.

It's a country that's always been drowning in the blood of the poor and down-trodden. Ask Sitting Bull about that one. And of course the Power Brokers and the Filthy Rich have us all by the short and curlies.

So the Ghost of Vince Lombardi told me he was going to make a visit to that big old white mansion in Washington. He was going to visit Barack Obama, kind of swoop in while he is sleeping, and whisper in his very large and expectant ear, whisper the only message worth conveying at the moment...

"When the going gets tough, the tough get going."

Stuck on the Cross of Contradiction

I found this quote reading about Bono. Yes, that Bono...

"Right in the middle of a contradiction, that's the place to be." - Sam Shepard

The Ghost of RFK

I guess I'm still looking for that smart, ruthless, "tough as nails" liberal willing to fight for social and economic justice on every front.

Relentlessness of the Wheel

The wheel, as John Fogarty once said, "keeps on turning." The wheel is bigger than you. It never stops.

Once you get on it, there's no getting off. If you get off, you will be crushed. It will roll right over you.

So you find you are on it, and you ride it for all you're worth. Which in the world of the wheel is not much.

You can't decide how fast the wheel will turn, you can't decide where the wheel will roll. You can only hang on. Or not.

So you hang on. And marvel at the infinite relentlessness of the wheel.

Free to Build Our Own

"I wish we could talk over the many prisons of life - prisons of stone, prisons of passion, prisons of intellect, prisons of morality and the rest - all limitations, external or internal, all prisons really. All life is a limitation." - Oscar Wilde

Another Stray

Played music again yesterday. Working on a new song. Auditioned a second vocalist. We are totally immersed in our band. Definitely a "flow activity" where you lose yourself in the zone.

Time is sort of suspended. Everything else just falls away.

I do think we live for those moments.

A young girl sang songs with us. She was so alive and enthusiastic. She "just wants to sing." She seemed so young, almost "other-worldly." Another stray. Definitely fits our vibe.

She came from a long way away just to audition. Took two trains. She wasn't wearing a coat. It was sunny but cold. We were worried about her as she went out back into the world to make the long trip home.

Hope she makes it. I think we're gonna ask her to join the band.

Rolling Thunder Revue Redux?

I have this vision for our WhiteWolfSonicPrincess band...

Sort of like Rolling Thunder Revue Part II, or is it Rolling Thunder Revue Part Deux, or Rolling Thunder Revue Redux?

Or maybe it's not Rolling Thunder at all. But we kind of blew up our early version of the band and well, we've kind of opened the door to a much larger sound.

We hope to debut the new sound in early February. Right now, we've been spending a lot of time in rehearsal with our new drummer, our new bass player and our new violinist. It's just been so great to mix all these elements into a new brew. Our neighbor overhead us playing and she immediately thought what I was thinking "Rolling Thunder!"

It is so cool, and all consuming. Casting a new musical spell. We've created this special, secret space. It's where creativity lives. Everything else falls away. This is it.

Music For Sale!

CD BABY is a really cool place to find and purchase music. Finally our disc - White Wolf Sonic Princess "This Car Available" is available on CD BABY!

We re-sequenced it. Deleted a couple tracks, added a track and re-mastered the whole thing. Very pleased with the final result. I think you should buy one. Really!

Schlepping

So much of life is just schlepping from one place to another.

Rubes, Swindled and Marks

If Obama has any sense (and I'm confident he has plenty) this idea of taxing the Financial Titans is essential. Somehow he's gonna have to muscle Congress to belly up to the bar for something other than their own pin-headed greed.

As Jon Stewart remarked, "The only people who have recovered from the meltdown are those who caused it."

And that just ain't right. This has all played out as a totally rigged game, and most of "the people" of this fine Republic are the rubes, the swindled, the marks.

Some kind of reckoning is in order. Pronto!

BTW, I think sometimes " Our problems are so large and grave, and our solutions are so weak and lame."

Wonder how that turns out?!

Fire-Eater

And then out of nowhere comes the Flaming Goblet of Fire...

Gilliam's Imaginarium

We went to see Terry Gilliam's new flick. It's pretty good. Wild. Flawed. I think all Gilliam's films are flawed, which might actually make them great.

The real life story: young actor slipping away in the middle of the shoot, kind of overshadows the film.

Or maybe not overshadows, but actually affirms what the film is all about. The human imagination, the compulsion to tell stories is eternal, or at least as eternal as the human being, which may not be so eternal at all.

I mean, as long as there are people there will be stories. The human imagination sort of transcends time. Even as people come and go. No person is essential. Or again, there's a weird paradox. Each person is unique and beautiful in their own way, never to be duplicated. But at the same time, each person can in a sense be replaced.

So we see Heath Ledger so vital, so alive, so good. And then about two thirds into the film he disappears and then Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell take his place. It works. But even as it works, a deep sense of loss hangs over the whole thing.

By the way, Tom Waits plays the Devil. What a perfect role, perfect performance. It's worth seeing the movie just for Mr. Waits! Tom Waits for no man!

Another one of Gilliam's dreams. Which is also kind of a nightmare. And Pythonesque too.

Universe - DIY

Yes, it's the DIY Universe...

You have all the tools at your fingertips. Do you need your Universe to have "meaning?" Well then, add a healthy (as little or as much as you want) portion of meaning- it's up to you.

Same with "purpose," and "justice" and any other of those wacky ideas you have your heart set on.

Do you need a "GOD" for your universe? Well there are many to choose from. Some are old and scary, some are kind and giving, some are really diffuse and abstract. Still they are all "hand me downs."

Watch out for other DIY'ers wanting to impose their Universes on you. Unless of course you want to share. Share or not. It's your choice!

Your Universe can have it's very own God. Or your Universe can be Godless. If you need a God, why settle for someone else's? Go on, construct your own. And bow down to it as needed!

It's really all up to you. It's the DIY Universe. It's as full or as empty as you want it to be. You get out of it what you put into it.

What? You say you can't believe in a Universe you create yourself? Get out of here! Of course you can. Yes you can. Just do it! And believe it. Or not. It's yours!

You say: "Nothing matters!" Or "Everything is Holy!" It's all up to you! You make the rules (or not) and you can to follow them or not.

You want more love and art? Bring it baby! It's simple and easy to do. Come on join the movement! Just say "DIY."

The Kid is In!

As one of our friends in Famous in the Future recently put it: 2010 Totally Zen!

The new year means new blood. We're expanding our band piece by piece. We've been doing the WhiteWolfSonicPrincess project for a while now. The Lovely Carla and I are intent on a larger sound.

So we added a new drummer (he's superb), and we recently auditioned a young violinist named Michael. He's young, so young, young enough to be our love child.

He is a gifted musician. So serious and quiet. We were a little worried that maybe he wouldn't fit in with our creative vibe. But the sound was right. Oh so right.

Well, at yesterday's rehearsal, when Michael unveiled his electric violin there were two tell-tale stickers on his violin case. Kind of answered any lingering doubts.

One was an Obama '08 sticker and the other was a Jimi Hendrix sticker. No doubt, the kid is in!

FDR Beyond the Grave...

I grew up in a household where FDR was a saint. A hero of the working man. He lived a long time ago...

FDR Speaks: "We know now that Government by organized money is just as dangerous as Government by organized mob."

Oscar Wilde - Pop Star

I'm currently reading a biography of Oscar Wilde...

So Oscar Wilde toured the U.S. in 1870's dressed up like a strutting peacock - knee breeches, silk stockings, funny hats, frilly shirts. He gave lectures on "beauty." He caused quite a stir in the press and the public.

I just recently finished Stanley Booth's "The True Adventures of the Rolling Stones," one of the great rock & roll books. Dare I say "rock literature" of a high order.

Mick Jagger toured the U.S. in the early 1970's (okay 1969) dressed up like a strutting peacock - knee breeches, silk stockings, funny hats, frilly shirts. He sang "Sympathy for the Devil," and "Stray Cat Blues." He caused quite a stir in the press and the public.

It dawns on me that if Oscar Wilde had been born in our era, he almost assuredly would have been a Pop star. Think Bowie, or Morrissey, or Brian Jones. Although, who knows if he could have carried a tune. Still it hasn't stopped anyone else.

In his time Oscar was celebrated and crucified. Probably would have been the same in this time. Maybe for different reasons, but what I like about Wilde, he was not shy about challenging the powers that be. Although this time around Oscar probably would have made a shit-load more money.

Spider-like

Just like a spider

Hanging by a thread is okay.

As long as you hang

With style.

You must always hang with style.

Stuck in the Middle with Oscar

Very cold.

And a big winter storm coming.

I'm counting on Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde to entertain me.

So far he is doing a wonderful job.

What an amazing, improbable life.

I'm halfway through the Ellmann biography.

It is very inspiring, funny, eye-opening.

I realize I love a dead guy.

"The secret of life is ART!"

Can't Beat the Table of Meat

Saturday the Lovely Carla and I played the open mic at our favorite coffeehouse, and well, I think it's safe to say we "tore the house down." One of our best shows. Two songs with our new drummer. The audience just absolutely loved it.

Then Sunday it was off to the Mutiny with the Telepaths. Final Bear game of the season. The Mutiny is one of those classic Chicago bars, a great place to see a football game. A place where football matters. Good thing the Bears won.

Then it was the Telepaths - stripped - just me on guitar, the Professor on bass and "The Ego Maniac" on vocals. This photo (dark and fuzzy - just like us) kind of captures the whole scene in one snap. Something sort of ridiculous and sublime simultaneously.

We were competing with the famed "Table of Meat" - ribs, chicken, brats. We gave it our best. But in the final analysis - the Table of Meat just can't be beat...

Still as they say, a good time was had by all!

A Cartoon Existence

Some days you are Wily Coyote.

Making plans, making contraptions, scheming - so hungry, on the chase.

Some days you are Road Runner.

Beeping. Flying. Leaving all comers in the dust.

Coyote days usually go wrong. Anvils on the head. Tumbling off cliffs.

Road Runner days are all about smiling. Speeding down the road. One step ahead of death.

Ashes of American Flags

One advantage of being left out of the grab-bag on Xmas eve was that I got to buy a grab-bag gift for myself. It was all so self-reverential and hermetic of me.

So I got exactly what I wanted.

And what I got was an exquisitely well-made DVD of Wilco called "Ashes of American Flags." It's a film by Brendan Canty and Christopher Green. Really nice work.

It captures a band at their best. Filmed so beautifully. The sound is superb and if you like Wilco, like I like Wilco, well it's just such a great document of a hard-working band playing some really cool rooms around the country - Tipitina's in New Orleans, Ryman Auditorium in Nashvile, Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa.

You realize it's a good thing these guys aren't so big that they play stadiums. Good for them and the audience. You spend a little time on the road with them too, in their big tour bus.

They come across as really professional, committed musicians. Artists. So inspiring. Plus of course, they rock. Highly recommended.

Black Forest Space - A really cool living room

It's 2010 so it's time to unveil our new Black Forest Space.

As someone said, "it's like a really cool living room."

It's a little storefront space.

A dream space. Where anything can happen.

If you want to know what happens inside, you have to open the door.

"I ain't gonna be your dog." - Howling Wolf

We had a little New Year's Eve get together at the Black Forest Space last night. It was a great way to kiss one year goodbye and welcome another.

The space looked great, we spruced it up and added some soft lighting - blues and greens. One of our friends said it was like "a really cool living room."

We had videos playing on a white screen - Buster Keaton, Nosferatu and the incomparable Matthew Barney. I think Mr. Barney was the hit of the evening - dressed in a kilt with a bloody rag in his mouth, surrounded by beautiful, almost naked women, scaling the inside of the Guggenheim and discovering strange and wonderous things at each level. One of those unique Matthew Barney experiences that can't be summed up or put in a box. Sublime.

We played music - people brought their iPods and we plugged them into the sound system and we had all kinds of dance music going. My favorite stuff actually came from my own collection - Aretha Franklin, Otis Redding, the Kinks and Howling Wolf.

Howling Wolf set the tone for me. Outside a big full moon was raging. It was incredibly cold. Inside Howling Wolf proclaimed "I ain't gonna be your dog." Those old Chess cuts were like from another world - but so appropriate to our precarious circumstances.

As the Lovely Carla put it: "We're out front, free-falling" into a new year, a new decade. We feel we are ahead of the curve. Maybe this is the year everything falls apart. And everything gets re-made. We're ready.

As one of my dear friends put it: "Drive fast. Take chances." Sounds like a plan!

"Still Standing!" - Jake La Motta

I find that for my own sanity, (such as it is) that it's usually best to think moment to moment. To not look too far ahead or too far behind.

I mean, I do like to study history and read about people who lived long ago, in places lost in shadow, but usually I'm in the moment to moment of discovery and usually relating what I'm reading to my ever always now.

Still, human beings seem to have this weird propensity to count things. Days, years, decades. I must say that these last 10 years have been quite strange. Much of it is a blur. It's weird what we remember and what we forget.

I'm pretty sure we tend to forget the really important stuff. And what we remember is pretty sparse and lame. Oh yeah, that's my life we're talking about.

There was a lot of smoke and thunder. And people I know and love, died. Some things happened that can't be changed or erased. I guess that's how it works...

And well, finally, left in the corner of the ever present moment, "still standing!"

The Importance of Being Oscar

"The soul is born old, but grows young.

That is the comedy of life.

The body is born young and grows old.

That is life's tragedy."

Oscar Wilde

Crazy Mixed Up Kids

You know, maybe there is a whole community of Gods.

Just like the Greeks imagined.

And maybe really they are just a bunch of crazy, mixed-up kids.

Kind of like high-school on steroids.

That would explain certain things.

"I've rolled in the dirt." - Tom Waits

This morning, while I brewed up a pot of coffee, Tom Waits' voice was riding the radio waves. He was hawking the latest Terry Gilliam movie in which he (Waits) plays the Devil. Talk about type-casting!

Of course, it sounds like a must-see film. Another Quixotic, snake-bit production from the over-heated cortex of Mr. Gilliam. Heath Ledger was to star but during production he drifted off into the sunset riding on 8 prescription drugs. Got to love our medicated mafia. Yee haw!

So Gilliam improvised a solution, multiple actors (including Jude Law and Johnny Depp) pitching in and finishing the film. This kind of stuff always happens to Terry Gilliam.

Anyway, here's my favorite line from Waits this morning: "A shadow of a shadow is light."

World's Greatest Dad - Movie Magic

I totally agree with this little write-up about the soundtrack to Bobcat's "World's Greatest Dad."

One of the essential elements for me for an "all time favorite film" is the soundtrack. It's what can make a scene transcendent, indelible. It's what can get me to see a movie over and over.

And maybe my two favorite songs of this great soundtrack are "Love is Simple" and "Don't be Afraid You're Already Dead," by Akon/Family. Perfect marriage of image and sound. Now that's movie magic!

Don't need no stinking CGI! Just a great script, superb acting, committed work with absolute heart. Thank you Bobcat!

The Genius of Bobcat Goldthwait

We had a nice Christmas day. We went to a Vietnamese place Pho Xe Tang -- Tank Noodle Restaurant on Broadway in Chicago. A really "authentic" place. A nice clean, well-lighted room. It was really bustling when we got there. The food was fresh - I had the Ginger Chicken. The menu is chock full of stuff. Loved it!

Then we watched a great little gem of a movie. It's called "World's Greatest Dad." It has to be one of the best movies released in 2009. I'm putting it on my all time favorites list which includes little movies like Rushmore, Donnie Darko, The Big Lebowski, 24 Hour Party People.

It doesn't sound very promising - Robin Williams playing a dad. But guess what? It's beautiful, very funny, and heartbreakingly sad. Probably not in that order. I mean it's both corrosively and endearingly funny. Robin Williams gives it all he's worth. You've never seen him give a better performance. The movie was written and directed by Bobcat Goldtwaith and I just love what he did - a fully realized vision.

A classic line from Goldthwait: "I am what I hate."

I have been told that I must seek out his other controversial movie "Shakes the Clown" which has been called “the Citizen Kane of alcoholic clown movies.”

I figure it is a must see.

I Knew

My grip sort of loosens.

I can feel life sort of rushing out from between my fingers.

I have no desire to hold too tight.

This is a new development.

I observe myself and others.

It's like I'm watching life go on without me, although, I'm in it too.

There's a new disassociation, a disorientation.

It's neither agreeable nor disagreeable.

"Ever since I was a little ball of golden light, I knew what I wanted to be."

Little Pieces of Light

We showed a Black Forest highlight reel to a small group of folks last night.

A few minutes of color and flash.

Kind of a butterfly glimpse of the theater work we've done over the last 10 years.

That's how it goes.

The smoke clears and you're left with little pieces of light.

"What we got to have in this world is more love...or more slack." - Gram Parsons

Hold That Tiger!

This cheery holiday card came to me via e-mail. Armed with a computer and Photoshop and the world is your oyster.

It's hard to not be totally amused by Tiger's predicament. To go from the perfect image of the determined, focused, hard-nosed golf pro to the ultimate "player" is kind of dizzying.

One minute you are the ultimate brand spokesman, the next you are some kind of global laughing-stock. It's hard to feel sorry for the guy and at the same time you fear for his sanity. He went from totally boring golfing dude, to some kind of Turbo-Casanova. Wow.

Now if his pretty wife actually did go after him with a nine-iron, well it's almost like an O. Henry story. And if she didn't, well can we just say she did?

An Empty Void...

The Lovely Carla and I worked on our little storefront space yesterday. It's been slow going, but we are making progress. Our goal, as per Papa Hemingway - "a clean, well-lighted place."

We put up curtains, we painted, we moved stuff around. Listened to tunes while we worked - The Flying Burrito Brothers, Marianne Faithful, Nick Cave and Warren Ellis (their new disc of movie soundtrack music is moody and haunting!) and Neil Young.

We are working towards a little "art sanctuary." A little space where anything can happen. You must create a void to fill a void.

Grease

"Ain't nothing any good without it has some grease on it." - Tina (former Annie Mae Bullock, of Brownsville, Tennessee) Turner

Amazing Vibe of Love

The days are getting really short. Kind of go from a dim darkness to a dark darkness. And all the shades of gray in between.

In the midst of the gray, we have been showered with gifts and validation and love. By people we hardly know.

How odd. Living for days on end, on the kindness of strangers.

If feels good, unreal. Don't want to jinx it.

The repressed Catholic in me (after all these years still haven't totally throttled that beast) thinks we don't really deserve it.

There's a tinge of guilt. So absurd. Probably best to just ride the amazing vibe of love...

Hard Lessons

The hardest lessons...

1. Sometimes you have to take a step back to take a step forward.

This seems absurd. The result is you end up in the same place right? I don't know, over time I have learned that sometimes you do have to go backwards to go forward. I guess it's sort of a Zen thing. Or maybe it's cuz the earth is round?

2. Sometimes you just have to show patience.

This drives me mad. I mean the clock is ticking. Not getting any younger. Time may be relative, but it stops for no man. I need shit to happen now! Still, sometimes patience is a virtue. No one said a virtuous life is a happy life.

Microbes - Abbie Normal!

So according to the Medea Hypothesis life is it's own worst enemy.

Sort of has the ring of truth, don't cha think?

And paleontologist Peter Douglas Ward wants us to know that:

"Multicellular life, understood as a superorganism, is suicidal."

So all you superorganisms out there take note. If you've ever been to a bar late on a Saturday night, you know what he's talking about.

"Succeeding at suicide would return Earth to the microbial-dominated state that has been the norm for most of its history."

The Microbes shall inherit the earth! All hail the microbe!

Life During Wartime

The boiler is working.

The radiators are radiating.

Steam is filling our apartment.

Outside is colder than, (as Tom Waits once said) "the ticket-taker's smile at the Ivar theater."

It's a battle of elements just to keep our bodies warm.

We survive as a result of a war.

And that's just one of a million tiny wars that make up a life.

Viva la resistance!

Snakes

The snakes are sleeping.

No, they are awake, but laying low.

They never sleep.

They lie in the grass, coiled like fists.

Ready to spring at any moment.

And those moments always come.

You think you can be-friend them.

But this is not the case at all.

Words and Actions

"I did not run for office to be helping out a bunch of fat cat bankers on Wall Street." - B. Obama


Okay. So then just why are you helping out a bunch of fat cat bankers on Wall Street?

Friends

Playing that Human Game is such a trip. Put a bunch of humans in a room together. Fill up the punch bowl with some unholy concoction and watch the room spin out.

"It's a party!"

"We're having fun!"

As I've said before, fun isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Still, being human is pretty much the only bet left. At this point all one can do is kind of play out the string and see what happens.

Still I'm glad I skipped the punch bowl and stuck to the red wine. The morning after, I find myself in a state of wonder, stuck with the usual questions.

"Why?" "What happened?" "What does it all mean?" "Where am I going?" "Why a Duck?!"

And of course, these questions turn out to be my bosom buddies, my life-long best friends. They never fail me.

"Adapt, and Die a Little Later"

As they say, "adapt, or die." Of course, what they mean, "adapt, and die a little later." Or as the Lizard King once put it, "No one gets out of here alive."

And I guess that can be sort of depressing, or or sort of liberating, depending on the quality of the brew, the curvature of the earth, and whether it's a good hair day or not.

So a sub-zero day doesn't mean huddling on the floor of your apartment praying for Spring.

No it's means, bringing out the heavy artillery: one pair of long-johns, two pairs of socks, three pairs of gloves, the dead man's boots, two sweaters, one long wool scarf, a pair of shades, and a fluffy, almost impossibly silly hat.

Almost makes the day livable. Whatever it takes, baby!

Big Freeze

The Big Freeze has descended upon the Heartland.

There's probably a lesson in the experience.

Don't know what it could be.

As Yoko Ono once sang," Give me something that's not cold, cold, cold."

Song Writing

After hearing some of our music, someone suggested that the Lovely Carla and I should teach people how to write songs. I think they meant it as a compliment. This is exactly the kind of thing I recoil from (or should I say, this is exactly the kind of thing from which I recoil?).

I know songs are crafted things. Some songs are formulaic. Some notes and chords naturally go together.

You can study great songs (for instance get a Beatles chord book), and see how chords and notes and melody and harmony work together.

But for me song writing is kind of like...

imagining new cloud formations

drawing circles in a pond

catching smoke rings

riding a sunbeam

It is like another branch of magic. Too much thought and analysis of the process can kill it. And misses the actual thing entirely.

It's kind of like you can dissect a cat and catalogue all it's parts and then put it back together, but then you are left with a dead cat. I think what I love about music is like that too. The dissecting and cataloguing is one way to study, but then you are left with bits and pieces that don't really add up to that ineffable beauty and mystery of a perfectly realized song.

Surviving the Onslaught

L.A. was sunny and 70's every day.

Back to Chicago means the deep freeze. Snow, cold temps, no sunshine, just big gloomy clouds.

Still, it is home. Don't need a compass to tell me where I am.

And maybe there's something to be said for braving the elements and powering through?

Sort of like you get a sense of accomplishment just by surviving the onslaught?

It's an illusory way to live.

We pretend that just by living, not succumbing to the gloom, we have found some kind of measure of success.

Every tiny win is a win...

Sweet Hand Job

As they say, "necessity is the Mother of Invention." And I think they really got that one right. And of course the definitive Mother of Invention, the Mother of all Mothers was Frank Zappa. And if he didn't exist, (or if he hadn't existed - goodbye sweet and sweaty Frank!), we would have had to invent him.

Now what's sort of funny and true about our insanely inventive consumer paradise is that much time and effort is spent on convincing us that really superfluous stuff is really, totally necessary.

And of course, most of it is total crap - mostly now made in China. Still, we are inundated with dazzling, relentless messages that without said crap, our lives are completely meaningless and full of misery.

I mean, our lives may be meaningless and full of misery, but probably not because we don't own even more superfluous (I love that word!) crap. So a lot of what life is about, is finding out what is necessary, and what is not. Most of what is necessary can not be purchased at your local mini-mall. And most of our insanely inventive consumer paradise is just a sweet hand job!

We are left with necessity, and it is a hard-headed Mother. And when one is confronted by that hard-headed Mother all one can do is invent like a mofo!

Brew

Too many days in a row of the same brew is not a good thing.

No Failure Like Success... - B. Dylan

We did our Toys for Tots rock show last night. We were the openers, which was great. Turned out there was pretty much a full house. Our new drummer is so grounded and professional, he brought a whole new solid foundation to our sound.

We didn't realize this was really a missing ingredient for us. Sometimes you don't know what you're missing until you're not missing it.

I played my beat-up old Hohner guitar. It's like an old pair of boots. I probably take it for granted. But it's a monster of an acoustic guitar, solid and resonant. I can really get a nice percussive sound out of it.

The Lovely Carla sang like an angel. There is a new sound gelling, and it's exciting.

We raised money, and loads of toys for the kids. The night was a complete success. Sometimes things actually do work out.

Zing and Zest

Last night we had one of those magical sessions. We played music with a new drummer. He has an old 60's vintage kit. He is a professional, totally grounded individual. Such a contrast to the Lovely Carla and I. And maybe the magic is in blending such different energies?

We ran through our set for our Toys for Tots show tonight at the Heartland Cafe. We're on the bill with three other bands. This will be the first show with our new drummer and I hope we can bring it like we did last night. Suddenly tunes that we've played for awhile found a new zing and zest.

We all felt the adrenaline rush. There's something about a group all working together in the moment. It's like we've kicked open a new door to a new sound. We've never sounded tighter. The songs have never sounded better. Now the question is, can we do it all in a foreign place in front of a crowd?

We will find out...

"I guess when they said Tiger was working with his putter, they were talking about something else."

I don't know why I find the Tiger Woods thing fascinating. I think it's because I'm in awe of the Monster Media Machine. It is an amazing, multi-headed, never-sleeping beast. One that Tiger has ridden to enormous fame and fortune.

And if Tiger rides the Tiger, well, that Tiger can turn on a dime. One minute you are feeding on the spoils of victory, the next you are the meal.

The Monster that feeds you also eats you up and spits you out. It is an insatiable beast. Doesn't care about anything but being fed. Tiger wants his privacy, which is totally understandable. But the private Tiger and the public Tiger merged into one being, many dollars and many years ago, and that Tiger is just more fodder for the jaws and belly of the Machine.

The main lesson I draw from the whole thing? Sometimes it is best to keep your putter in your pants! Although, I understand this is easier said than done.

Orwellian Tragedy

Zero Hedge kind of sums up my feelings about Barack Obama's decision to send more troops to Afghanistan.

"Nobel 'Peace' Prize winner Obama escalates war in Afghanistan in act of Orwellian tragedy."

Of course, even though I voted for the guy, he never called me for my advice. Still, if he would have asked, I would have said, "Don't fucking do it!"

I do think the dude has good intentions. But of course the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I'd hate to see another promising U.S. President go down in flames trying to put the toothpaste back in the tube of another cluster-fuck.

Oh well, I realize our biggest export is guns, and boots, and tanks, and bombs. Maybe there's something wrong with that?!?

Post L.A. - Pure Vibe!

Back home. It was all smooth sailing yesterday. We cabbed, and bused, and planed. As we waited to board the plane yesterday, I got a call from the booker at the Rainbow. They actually want us to come back and do a show! Surprise.

I guess our Open Mic thing went better than we thought. Now that's a kick in the pants! Not sure, but I think we're gonna plan another L.A. trip and play the Rainbow! Look out L.A.

Anyway, it's great to be back home with my coffee maker, my own bed, my own private little world. Still what an amazing trip. It is very humbling to realize that we have some great friends - generous, kind, brilliant, beautiful.

Not sure what we've done to deserve all the love and attention. But one thing I learned on the trip, I can just let it all go! No guilt, no pain. Just pure vibe. I wonder how long that will last?!

L.A. Diary - Day Seven

Our trip took a decided David Lynchian turn yesterday. We went to the Rainbow Bar and Grill on Sunset Blvd. for the Monday night Open Mic.

It was quite the experience. The Open Mic is upstairs, sort of looks like a ship's galley. Kind of a hostile room filled with the Monday night regulars - comics and musicians. Not too funny. The air of desperation kind of hung over the room like a black cloud.

We were definitely outsiders. The young comic before us was doing a harsh Don Rickles type schtick and he did a riff on our name - WhiteWolfSonicPrincess.

I did admire his ability to improvise a bit in the moment, but the vibe was not welcoming. Still we gave it our best, did two songs and tried to fill the room with our sound. We got a polite round of applause from the hard core group. Not exactly satisfying, but we met the challenge and survived to tell the tale.

After doing our two songs we left the Rainbow and waited for a bus across from the Roxy. There was a total carnival scene in front of the Roxy: rock and rollas, wise guys and good fellas, skin-heads, bikers, hot mamas, incredibly large tattooed women, incredibly thin girls balancing on impossible spiked heels, there was "Golden Shoes Guy," and "Falling Down Pants Guy," and yes, even a dwarf.

It was all so L.A. surreal. And the bus trip back home was a freak-show carnival ride too. Bus people anywhere are such a very special crowd.

Our last night in L.A.: Memorable.

Another travel day today. Shuffling from one compartment to another. Soon back to the Chicago reality. Wonder what's in store?