The Meltdown is Coming...

Ok. I am not one for predictions. Really. It's a fool's game. Best to see what's happening before your nose, and dealing with it as it is all transpiring in the moment to moment. But I do have a bold hunch.  Which I am happy to float this a.m. You know, feeling my oats, slept well, the coffee is fabulous, and I am blasting Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"  (1975), at max volume in a fabulous mansion on the lake. So yeah, feeling pretty good. My bold hunch? The Facist Toxic Clown running for President is getting close to the "spontaneous combustion" phase of the campaign. I do think a very public meltdown is coming and it will be pretty magnificent and entertaining. Now, of course, his cult won't care, they will still vote for him no matter what, I mean, even if he dissolved into a pool of very ghoulish-looking, toxic liquid on stage, it wouldn't matter to the cultists.  But I do think the cult is shrinking on the margins, and that's important. For sure, the rest of us will turn to rationality, good cheer & good government. Pretty sure on that one. Harris/Walz for the win. Of course.

Uncertainty is OK...

Sure. What can go wrong? Well, pretty much everything. I think knowing that deep in your bones is a sign of intelligence. Does it come from experience, or is it built into our DNA? Who knows? Let's get the Scientists on the case. It's the kind of question that leads one to "I just don't rightly know." And that's ok.

This never-ending uncertainty, being the perpetual "doubting Thomas," is a sign of a troubled, anxious, unsatisfied mind. And that's ok. It's a mind-set closer to the reality of things. Sure that might mean you are often unsure, tentative, cautious, questioning, worried, maybe even panicky, sometimes lost, completely at sea, but you know, "thems the breaks."

Those other folks with all the answers, their unshakable beliefs, those so sure about everything and everyone, happy and super-motivated to impose their worldviews on you, and everyone else too, are living in some blindly-stupid, ego-saturated, power-trip, fantasy-land. They fiercely believe they know the truth, and only their truth. You know, for instance their God and only their God. It's a powerful thing. And can lead to so much mischief and tragedy. For instance they come up with crackpot ideas about a bully and a strongman who is gonna fix everything. Check out the History books for how that idea turns out. Those self-righteous, power-mad folks who want to impose their will on the world, well, that dangerous, soul-killing shite inevitably leads to death-camps, and suicides in bunkers. Fuck that Authoritarian B.S. 

We live in a Universe of Uncertainty. It's daunting, challenging, frustrating, disappointing, but also exciting. You know, the "Sea of Possibilities." Pretty much anything can, and probably will, happen. What happens? The good, the bad, the ugly. Life. Real Life. And yes, that's ok...

Alienated...

Yes. We live in our bodies. We also live in the Socio-Political-Cultural Slipstream. You know, just a Human Being living within the grand, teeming, over-stuffed, Multi-Billion member strong Tribe of Human Beings. Sometimes it's a great experience, sometimes not so great. Lately there is some major dissonance & chaos swirling around in this particular Human Being. I am picking up some disturbing signals. Makes me want to opt-out. I do not like the tenor of my times. I wonder: Who the fuck are these people? How have they all gotten so unhinged from reality? Why are so many of us bitter, angry, ignorant, racist, entitled, full of shit? And how is it so many Humans revel in these retrograde tendencies, and use them as  organizing principles? Nazis, Nihilists, Death-seekers, Righteous Assholes, Fundamentalists,  Sociopaths, Psychos, Egotists, Paraniod Schizophrenics, Crazed Conspiracists, No-Nothings, MAGA Freaks, etc. Yeah, I know a loaded question. I am in it, not really wanting to be in it. Whatever flaws I see are most likely reflected in me too. Still I try to overcome my own flawed thinking and feelings. It's an on-going project. I am of it, and trying to not be of it, at the same time. It's a weird condition to be in. Alienated from the Human Race. Alienated from my self too. What's the remedy? I don't know. Maybe try to find a bit of space, head-space; listen to some good music, pick up my guitar, strum madly. Stage a little mini-rebellion. I think of Melville's Bartelby: "I prefer not to." Silence too, try to swim towards some kind of Inner Light. Yeah, that seems like it might be a helpful way forward.

Nazi/Facist Rhetoric...

I am not going to quote the Man, the words are too harrowing, demeaning, disgusting, and over the top terrible. You know, the Toxic Clown now running for President as the "Republican," is doubling, tripling, & quadrupling down on the Nazi/Facist rhetoric. 

He has gone all-in for Full Metal Jacket Nazi. Sure, his speeches are filled with madness, idiocy, made-up b.s. confused, and confusing, word-salad, but then, he goes off on clearly Hitlerian-inspired garbage.

Yikes. Not sure if it's a winning strategy, but it's certainly a toxic-stew of racist, demeaning, dehumanizing, shite. Not fit for human consumption. I wonder what kind of country we want to be and to live in? I hope my fellow citizens will roundly & soundly reject this racist, inhumane, unhinged HATE. I suppose we shall soon find out.

Describing the World As It Is...

This excerpt from Ryan J. Reilly, author of The Sedition Hunters: How January 6th Broke the Justice System really captures the present state of crisis in the homeland...

The dangerous ones to the Fools and MAGAs are those people "who must attend to and describe the world as it is." That should be all of us. Let the Reality Seekers speak up, and unite, for a better day and a better world. Vote Harris/Walz. Vote for Reality! Let's try to all live in the real world with eyes, hearts, and arms wide open. It's a better, more soulful, more intelligent & responsible way to live.

A Doubling...

I often think of Dylan's song "Watching the River Flow." (1971). 

You know, that idea that you are on the "bank of sand," just observing,  always watching, the flow of Life. But that's not really how it is...

Turns out you are  simulaneously on the bank of sand and smack dab in the river too. You are watching the flow of Life, but you are also always flowing  in that river of Life at the same time.

It's an odd thing. A doubling: Watching & Experiencing. And Life just goes on...

No Time for Judging...

Not judging it. Life, I mean. It really doesn't matter, one way or the other, you know, the judging. Experiencing it, being in it, navigating, floating, riding, dealing with it, yes, that's the thing. Life gives you everything: what you want, what you don't want, the surprises, the annoyances, the beauty, the not so beautiful. Validating and invalidating moment to moment. No time for judging. It's Life,  baby, be here now...

Daylight...

 Daylight. We live for it.

Living in the Real...

Choosing to live in the Analog/Real world. Yes. Kind of going against the grain. Being real. Living in the real. Sure, reality is a hard teacher. You can't finesse the real. You just have to deal with it. There is the good, the bad, the ugly. Comedy & Tragedy. You get full spectrum of Life. It's worth it.

A Surprising Insight...

We unveiled a new song yesterday. Newly hatched. It's a fresh little beast. We had assembled our band in our rehearsal room. The band is an amazing collection of musicians who have acclimated to our ways of creation and destruction. They have the chops, the musical education, the long history of playing on stages in many different musical modes. We are always a bit intimidated by the musical alchemy of these folks. We ran thru the song a couple times, lots of parts, "movements," and tricky time-changes. We know, from experience, these folks can track with complex pieces. Which is so liberating. Often we start with a flimsy little construction that morphs into a significant piece of music. It's a very grafitying process. One of the players said something so perfect: "This isn't a song, it's a 3 act play." Yes, and it does reflect where my songwriting partner and I started in our long & winding creative journey. Our band was birthed out of a very nebulous, marginal theater company. So maybe there's a bit of continuity there? That was a nice, surprising, little blast of insight.

Drawing Imaginary Lines...

 "Drawing hard lines in the sand, always bites you in the ass."

A line from a good friend of mine. It's true. The Universe cares not one whit about your hard lines, whether they be in the the sand, the dirt, your head, or the imaginary space in front of you. Sure, in an emotional moment you may take a stand, draw lines, tell the world, and everyone in it, that you aren't crossing that line ever again.

But, you know, it's just vanity. You can draw lines all you want, you can tie yourself in knots, but all you really are doing is handicapping yourself. Closing doors and windows. 

Best way forward? Improvise. Be flexible. Be changeable. Try things. Let shit go. Float like a Butterfly. Sting like a Bee. Flow with the Tao. Be like Water. Transparent. Giving. Let it all come down. Be alive, aware, awake. Once the emotion drains away there is a bit of cold Clarity. "You are not your past."  Today is not Yesterday. You are alive now.  Live. Choose wisely Grasshopper.

The Heads Won...

That pungent, fragrant aroma, you know, from that really superb, primo-shit, floating up from every park bench, every open-windowed passing car, every avenue, every back-yard cookout, and every shabby alley, in our rocking and rolling neighborhood, reminds me of those years, long ago when young men and woman used to get busted, and hauled off to jail, for burning that wacky weed. What to say about these free and easy stoner days? Cheech and Chong won! And Peter Tosh, Willie Nelson and Bob Marley too, winners! "Legalize it, don't criticize it!" - Peter Tosh. Exactly. Kind of amazing. Some folks I know, victims of the War on Drugs, folks whose lives were shattered by Nixon's pernicious war, and the anti-pot hysteria, now long gone, would have been stunned and amazed by the ubiquitious nature of our current state of affairs. Folks from all walks of life, grabbing onto joints with both hands like a life-line, a new smokey utopia. Even the "straights" are stoners now. You know, what the fuck, all that trauma & drama, for what?! "Dave's not here, man."

He Was Desperate, He Committed Crimes to Cling To Power...

Some of Special Prosecutor Jack Smith's case against Trump's failed bid to hang onto power in 2020 was revealed in a filing yesterday. The narrative, & the evidence. is laid out in black & white. It is a long time coming. 

Some of the names and testimony are redacted, but a lot of it isn't. What does it tell us? Trump knew he lost the election, but he didn't care, he was desperate to cling to power.  And willing to commit crimes to do it. Jack Smith has the details, the receipts, the testimony. Trump doesn't have immunity for these acts, they were not part of his official duties. These were private acts of a desperate flailing scoundrel! 

The truth is the truth. What happened actually did happen. We saw much of it on TV. We heard about it during the Congressional January 6th Hearings. Finally it's all laid out in an damning indictment.

As Jack Smith tells it:  "Donald Trump laid the groundwork to try to overturn the 2020 election even before he lost, knowingly pushed false claims of voter fraud and “resorted to crimes” in his failed bid to cling to power, according to a newly unsealed court filing from prosecutors that offers new evidence from the landmark criminal case against the former president."

Of course, this alone should disqualify the man from running for office ever again. He truly is a disgrace & a threat to Democracy. It is up to the Voters to end this terrible chapter in American History. And then, let Jack Smith get to the task of proving his case.

Wall of Confusion...

Funny. I took on a "technical" opportunity for $. Be careful at the things you say "yes" to. I am definitely a bit out of my comfort zone, thinking that I could handle it. Turns out I stepped into a puddle, to find that it was really an ocean. I quickly discovered I really didn't know as much about the topic as I initially believed. Bam! Smack dab into a very sturdy, unforgiving wall of confusion.

Sent me reeling. I questioned my intelligence, competance, and state of equilibrium. I spent a long sleepless night fumbling, and tumbling, rocking and reeling.

What to do? I went back to basics. First I went with the premise: I know nothing. That was a bit humbling, but basically true, and a way of touching bottom and starting to work upward. I retraced my steps, went back to the documentation. Going one line at a time. I did a bit of searching, Googling, trying to get myself "smart." Grasping at straws in the wind.

This morning, after a very long, dead-man's sleep, I feel much better. Actually, quite refreshed. Maybe I haven't solved the problem yet, and I have no idea if I will come to a successful outcome, but now I know the contours of the task at hand. I am a bit more comfortable, and slightly more knowlgeable. Baby steps.

Knowing & Not Knowing...

Often you find out you don't know what you do know. Hilarity can follow. Or supreme annoyance. Or long chases down long & winding rabbit holes, with flashes of cotton-tails dancing out of reach in the distance. When all is said and done, there is just emptiness, dust and exhaustion. Nothing quite as unsatisfying as coming up hands-empty after a long, arduous road of seeking. 

Humans Always Reveal Themselves...

Live with dogs long enough and you find that they are super-good at reading people. Sure, most of them want to be your friend. They pay super-fucking close attention to every little detail of human behavior. They smell you, watch you, observe your actions. They can read you like a book. If your dog is acting strangely around someone that you, and they, encounter: be on guard. Some Humans just don't smell right.

I think I have gotten so much better at reading people myself. It's just the result of spending long days in the company of a wide variety of dogs. Something has been passed onto me by osmosis & example. 

Who knows?! Maybe I'm hallucinating, but I believe that my sense of smell has increased, it's now one of my strongest, most finely-honed, well-developed senses. I also seem to be looking thru the eyes of dogs. I see people in detail. All the unspoken signals seem so obvious & loud and clear. Humanity; I seem to be in it, but not of it. I have assumed some uncanny, canine-like qualities. I have tuned in to the lives of dogs, just as they have tuned into me.

Funny. People are easy to read. They are transparent. They always tell you who and what they are. All you have to do is pay attention. And try not to get distracted by the words they use. Observe with a dog-like determination. Most Human Beings are wearing a mask. A mask of subtle deception.

I have befriended and gained the trust of many troubled dogs; dogs suffering from PTSD; manhandled and terrozied by deeply troubled humans. I have also encountered a few (three) dogs over the last decade or so who wanted nothing to do with me.  I didn't take it personal. They were troubled dogs who bonded-deeply with their owners, and they were suspicious of every other living Hunan on the planet. They were super-viscious and agressive. Did I show a bit of fear? Maybe.  And well, who knows?! Maybe they were hostile to much of Humanity for good & excellent reasons? Once bitten, twice shy.

If you pay attention, look close enough, you can see all the human types on display: the sick ones, the ones hiding something, the bitter ones, the supremely sad ones, the miserable ones, the quietly murderous ones, the ones that would leave you bleeding in an alley gasping for air. Oh yes, there are the joyous ones too, the giving ones, the deeply loving souls. You know, you see, and read, the full range & spectrum of Humanity. It's important for survival to see in full-on living color. Be dogged in your attention and approach.

Web of Disillusioning...

You don't expect the unexpected. And when the unexpected (especially when the unexpected is disagreeable, and/or offensive), slaps you upside the head it's more than a wakeup call. It's an opening, a tear in the fabric of your understanding of the Universe. You may find yourself thinking: "If I was wrong about this one thing, maybe I'm wrong about everything?"

Existential Crisis, writ large, plain & simple. 

If the unexpected is agreeable, well, you often see it as a "gift" from the Universe. Feelings of joy and good cheer flow thru you. But it's the offensive kind of unexpected that seems to have a more profound and lasting impact.

It can send you down the rabbit-hole of doubt & uncertainty. You get caught up in the Web of Disillusioning. Yikes. What's the way forward? Well, it's Forward. One step at a time. You start a rebuild, a re-think. You re-formulate, and come up with some new dance steps.

Best response? Fuck it. Carry on my Wayward Son. Put on new shoes and Let's dance...

To Know...

Questions: Why do we read great novels, plays, non-fiction books? Why do we watch great films?

Possible answer: To know who you are, to know where you are, to understand your feelings, your culture; to find clues about what's happening, and what it all means.

So, you know, weird shit happens, and you can say: "This is all so Shakespearean." Or, "I feel like I'm stuck in a Beckett play." Or, "Is this a David Lynch movie?" You think of George Orwell, Hunter S. Thompson, William Gibson, Stanely Kubrick, William Burroughs, Harold Pinter, PT Anderson, Kurt Vonnegut and well, you try to puzzle it all out.

Seeking...

It is sort of funny. I'm just a regular guy. A Human Being walking & talking, navigating the days. Trying to get along, go along. Dreaming up a few big dreams, nothing too earth-shaking, you know mainly personal actualization kind of dreams; living a life as a creative, musical, and improvisational human being. I am doing my best to be a smart, careful, caring, consciously alive, aware, awake human being.

EVERY DAMN MORNING I wake up and I scan the headlines, I delve into the latest news, I tune into the radio-waves, I seek information, opinions, and insights from my fellow Humans. What am I seeking?! A chimera, a ghost, a shimmering apparition, a golden unicorn. Really, I suppose I am always on the hunt for Signs Of Intelligent Life On The Planet. 

The funny part?! It seems to be a very rare thing indeed. Really. I mean, surprisingly, ridiculously, rare. Signs of major HUMAN STUPIDITY seem to be on the rise and sprouting up everywhere. This regular guy knows he isn't the smartest person in the world, but often he is amazed at all the prominent, successful, newsworthy folks around him who seem to be deeply-corrupt, supremely-freaking, seriously-blithering, stone-cold, idiots. Wild.

Denial = Double-Edged Sword.

Oh yeah. You are the candle, (see previous post) and there are some hard truths you must contend with every day (see two previous posts ago) but, it's also true we are armed with mighty powers of deep denial. Another double-edged sword. You can decide you just don't want to know what you know. I mean, you minimize and power thru. Sometimes this a winning strategy. Defy the odds, defy the naysayers, hang in there and go for it. But then, there are limits to that strategy too. Finally you come up against the brick wall, and slamming your head against that wall is not advisable. It's up to you. How far will you push that strategy of denial? You get to decide, and then have to live with the consequences. Choose wisely, Grasshopper. It's a complicated Universe out there.

The Candle...

Burning the candle at both ends. It's that kind life for many of us. I think of the candle as our bodies, and the flame as the energy, or life-force that burns thru us. I think of William Blake's "Energy is Eternal Delight." Where does the energy come from, where does it go?

My last few days have been filled with furious activity. Activity adding up to not too much. I flash on Macbeth's "Sound & Fury signifying nothing." Although that seems a bit harsh. After all, it is my life. So maybe amend it to "Sound & Fury signifying a little bit of something." Right on.

Hard Teachers...

Untethered from Reality.

Why? Well, maybe it is understandable,

Reality, a "reality based community," a "facts-based worldview" these approaches force a Human Being to come terms with hard truths. If you live with facts, with reality, you have to deal with the deal. Even if the deal is a raw deal. You are forced to face up to the music, even if, or even, especially if, the music is raw, gnarly, inconvenient, not what you really want to hear; dissonant, noisy, and counter to your hopes and dreams. Facts and reality are hard teachers, they are teachers that encourage you to always be open to a re-think. Sometimes you have to adjust, accept limits, be creative, willing to adjust your life, your thoughts, your actions. Once in awhile, you get that sense that "everything you know is wrong."  And that is ok. Lately, you often watch the madness of the herd, you watch in amazement that your fellow Human Beings are willing to turn away from facts and reality to embrace the crazy. That is such an ignorant, soul-killing, deluded, insane way to live. You realize that facts and reality are humbling. Best to cultivate being humble. To stick to a determined humility. Feet on the ground, clear-eyed and clear-headed. As that great r&r sage and dancing fool Mick Jagger once wrote: 

"No, you can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

But if you try sometime

You'll find

You get what you need"

A Sunday Songwriting Session.

Songwriting session yesterday afternoon. These can be intense. We both bring something to the session. My partner brings the poetic words, a certain cadence or rythmn, and a beauftiful voice. She also brings her artistic sensibility: she knows what works, what's clunky, and what flows.

I bring the riffs, the little chord sequences, the picking technique. I was playing a borrowed 50 years old Martin guitar. So beautifully resonant, and easy to play. 

We have a little digital recorder that we use to record demos. The trick is to put words and music together, effortlessly. Finding the perfect match. Perfection is just an ideal in our heads, but we know when the magic descends. 

Sometimes, usually accidentally, it all comes together. Then we try to recreate that moment. The trick is to recreate the unconscious moment, consciously.  Not that easy. You can't try too hard, you have to let it happen. It's kind of a strange thing, getting back to something that just happened seemingly by itself.

We didn't quite get there. We got close. We recorded the basic song.  We now have all the parts, now it's the process of playing them and making those changes flow effortlessly. You know, we now have to practice to get to the point where it's just all there, totally second nature, muscle memory, embedded in our DNA.

We moved one sequence of words and chords from the middle of the song to the beginning, and that seemed all the difference, it seemed to make it all work quite exquistitely. Suddenly there was a flow and a build. We were so close.  We ran thru the song a couple times and just didn't quite get there. We will. We wrapped up the session a little frustrated. Close but not quite there. We will get together again soon and see if we can catch that lovely little butterfly without damaging it. Still, we can see it, flitting and fluttering before our eyes, just out of reach. Songwriting it's a challenging, fabulous, wondrous, thing. 

Simple Does It...

Doing everything you have to do, and doing those things the best that you can. Hopefully, you occupy your time wisely. Find the things you love to do, and do them with love and all of your focus and intention: Heart, Head, Spirit aligned. Simple. 

A Bit Loopy...

Ha. Funny. My little Garage/Punk, Punk/Garage band played a fiery set last night at a classic Chicago bar on Division St. I didn't break any strings, but my amp staring making weird sounds late in our set. Is that progress? I had my little tube amp cranked to the max, just a notch below smoking. It sounded pretty epic, and then well, it started to act up, it got a bit loopy. It was crackling and distorting, it sounded like a blown speaker, or a dying tube.

Maybe that place is haunted? Ghosts?

There is an air of mystery and fucked-up-ness at the venue. It's been around for 70 years, supposedly blues legend Buddy Guy played there and the great Chicago author Nelson Algren used to prop himself on the bar,  maybe worrying over a line, a paragragh, or a woman?  Strange things always happen to me there. One time, my boots got stuck the the carpet on stage, mid-set, maybe too much duct tape, or some mildly malevolent force? It was the oddest feeling in the world, stuck to the stage. I felt like I was melting into the vortex of hell.

I have to laugh. I am always at war with my gear. So yeah, my amp seemed to be sputtering, but we carried on, it just added a bit more color to the sound. This morning I tested out the amp, opened up it, checked out the tubes, took them out, put them back in, played along with a few of my favorite records.  The speaker, the tubes,  who knows?  Maybe operater error? All seems fine now.  Strange. A bit of a mystery there. Sound-Gremlins. Abusing musical equipment for fame and fortune.  It's a pretty cool way to go. Rock the Casbah!

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...