Time...

"Another time he found her sitting on a seafront bench at La Concha, at an hour when the only people out walking were two opposite types: those running out of time and those with time to burn." - Roberto Bolano, "2666."

Skywriting in My Head...

Skywriting in my head...

I can't help it. Messages come to me in the night. Sometimes I remember them when I awake. This morning what's still floating in my consciousness as I rustle myself out of bed?

The Forces of Entropy

&

Surrender Dorothy

Just reporting, not speculating. I mean, the meaning is embedded in the messages. Don't you think?

The Candle...

The candle...

You could think  that your life is like a candle. You know. There is a wick, the stick, the flame.  Sometimes the flame is burning away, a wild-child, bright and bold, sometimes it's a meager, fluttering thing, barely flickering. You only have so much candle. That's your life. How it burns depends on circumstance, and inclination. Chance and desire. You want to flame away, but you also want to extend the experience of life. Live to the max. Bold and bright to the end.

A Good Omen...

Maybe it's not surprising. I mean, how many times have I heard this epic song since it came out (November 8, 1971)? Who knows? It's probably playing on the radio, wafting thru the air, somewhere on the planet, right now, no doubt. 

I know I heard it last week. I tested out a new pair of headphones, and I put them thru their paces by playing some classic albums I have listened to many, many times. So, yes, recently I laid on the couch and "close listened" to The Rolling Stones' "Exile on Main Street," (1972) and Led Zeppelin's  "IV" (1971) (also known as Zozo). Two of the all-time great R&R albums. No doubt. The remastered CDs sound absolutely fabulous. If you want to know what r&r is, what it's about, what it can do to you, you can't do better than spinning those records.

Anyway, this morning, before day-light, I mean, in the blackest of black hours of the night, I awoke with Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven" dancing in my head. The acoustic guitar, the mellotron, Plant's voice, the step by step build, Page's electric guitar-army, the bass, the dramatic entrance of John Bonham's drums, the swell, the peak. Climax! 

It takes you on a journey. Maybe it's corny now, maybe not. It is an amazing track. No doubt. Perfectly executed. Epic. Grand. Overblown. Cliche, because it's been played to death. Too familiar. So obvious. But, you know, it is an undeniable song.

I couldn't shake it this morning. I lay in the dark, wondering should I get up and make the coffee, or should I lay here, turn over, try to still my warring mind and go back to sleep? I got up.  So, yeah, I'm making the coffee and those classic lyrics roll out across my mind-space. I take it as a good omen, a propitious event. I mean, why not?!

"There's a feeling I get when I look to the west

And my spirit is crying for leaving

In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees

And the voices of those who stand looking

That's you

And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune

Then the piper will lead us to reason

And a new day will dawn for those who stand long

And the forests will echo with laughter

Remember laughter?

Oh yeah, yeah, yeah..."

- Jimmy Page & Robert Plant

Shrunken and Shriveled...

Reading.

I recommend it. "Feed your head," like the Door-mouse said. Yes, feed your soul and your imagination too.

Page 34 from Roberto Bolano's "2666:"  - "... a bastard who believed in television and had the shrunken and shriveled soul of a religious fundamentalist."

A Life of Questions...

These are the usual questions:

Who am I?

What is my purpose?

Is there meaning in the Universe?

Is there a God?

Is there a Devil?

What's it all about?

Where do I belong?

We carry these questions with us most of our lives. If we are "smart" the questions are never answered. We keep the game open-ended. Ours is not a life of answers, but a life of questions. We pose the questions, we look around us, we discover and wonder at the world.

We seek, and probably not find. That's okay. The seeking is the adventure.

I came across a phrase a few days ago that totally resonated with me, and led me to think, "Yes, that's my Tribe!" It's funny, how many decades have I wondered: What tribe do I belong to? You know, if I had to pick a tribe. Maybe I am a member of the "Tribe of No Members." Then again, maybe I have finally answered one of the questions.This is the kind of tribe I can get behind:

"Maladjusted Creatives." 

Yes. Exactly.  

Maladjusted = "poorly or inadequately adjusted, specifically : lacking harmony with one's environment from failure to adjust one's desires to the conditions of one's life."

Creatives =  "having the ability or power to create, characterized by originality and expressiveness; one who displays productive originality: the creatives in the advertising department."

Eureka! This is it. It describes me, my friends, and all the folks I admire, respect and am influenced and inspired by. Really. I mean it.

Work=Play=Fun...

Maybe the trick about work (see previous post): work should be play, and play should be abundant. So, yeah, always be working, which means really always be playing, even mundane chores can be transformed by making them a game. That game then sort of morphs into fun. Don't know how exactly that works, it seems it just happens. 

You remember fun don't you? I used to think that fun was over-rated, and maybe really that fun didn't exist, but now I think it's up to us, you can make pretty much anything fun, by a tilt of our perspective. It's an attitude that you bring to the moment.

I suppose there are limits, I mean, there are always limits, and our ideas can bump up against the wall of reality. So yeah, there are some jobs, some tasks, some adventures that are really, really not fun. This is when a bit of discipline comes in. I now think after many years of living that it's best to do the hard things first. Don't delay, don't put off, just plunge into the hardness of the hard thing. And do it.

Maybe it won't be fun, or child's play, but if you do it, it's done, so you can then move on to work, the good, the fun part.

Of course, there are some things in life that you just can't bluff around, playing the game doesn't really fly. I'm thinking of the great tragedies of life, you know, deep illness, madness, chaos, death, destruction, loss. When you are on the edges of experience, facing the black abyss, thoughts of work, play, fun, sort of vanish. Those times, you just endure, slog thru, carry on. It's okay to cry, to breakdown, to stop in your tracks, to just breathe. 

You hope those moments of deep tragedy will pass. Everything passes. And then it's back to work.

Work...

It's funny. My partner and I actually have a strong work ethic. We seem to have both inherited it from our families. We both come from long lines of working stiffs. We come from families who survived paycheck to paycheck. No inherited wealth, just an inherited idea that "no one ever promised you a rose garden." We had to work for a living, work to keep alive, work to keep a roof over our heads, work to keep food on the table.

That work ethic has been revealed to us during the last pandemic year. Every day is programmed with work to do. Even when we have been stranded at home, left to our own devices, we fill our days up with activities. So yes, there is the job. We both have had multiple jobs, sometimes unemployed too.  But even in those times of unemployment, we have worked.

We program our days:

Long walks on the lakefront. This a daily ritual. Almost a religious thing. Lately slogging thru the snow has been difficult, exhausting. But we are driven to keep moving. 

Working on new songs. We have a songwriting ritual: set up in the kitchen, sip some Kombucha and work on new songs. We both come up with lyrics, I come up with guitar riffs and chord progressions. Lately this is our most important time. It has been super-productive. Lots of new songs. The creativity has been flowing.

Close listening to music. This is one of my favorite activities. I work at it. Armed with my Walkman, a set of headphones, I run thru our vast catalog music (on CD) and listen with a Music Producer's sensibility. Closely listening to the mixes, the layers of instrumentation, the reverb. Researching the music and the musicians, noting the recording techniques and locations. It's so rewarding, enlightening. One of my great joys. So inspiring. Soul-fulfilling.

Read books. Stream shows. We do this religiously. Always searching for new narratives. Feeding our imaginations. You might think this is "goofing off," but it isn't. This is a super-important activity. Onto new ideas, new narratives, new imaginative spaces. It's a healing, a clearing. Opens your head and heart.

Conversation. This is on-going. We range across all the issues. It can be exhausting. But often surprising too. This is an ever-evolving thing. Taking in new information, latest events, logging the information from all corners of the globe. This is essential work too. Being alive in the moment. Taking in and processing reality. Staying real. Staying engaged. Challenging ourselves to see and hear and feel how other people on the planet are living.

Anyway, maybe all this expands the idea and definition of work. There is work. And then there is work. Then there is the good work.  Living. Good living. You have to work at it every day.

Time Elongates...

Pandemic + Extreme Weather + Work from Home Routine = Time

No doubt. It seems time has slowed down, days have elongated. Time to do your daily tasks, time to read, time to listen & play music, time to goof off, time to laze around, time.

Simultaneously, we notice days flying by, don't even remember what day it is. Time is fleeting, time is passing, time is dribbling away.  Time is a precious thing.

Every day counts. Every hour and every minute too. It's a weird thing. We live like we have all the time in the world, and at the same time we know time is rushing away from us.

And remember: we are all just one catastrophe away from catastrophe.  Anything can trigger it. Too much of a good thing, too much of a bad thing. Too hot, too cold, too much pain, too much fun.

We are all lucky if we can avoid catastrophe, and we may never know we dodged a bullet. One day at a time.

Quick Hits...

Questions looming over me this a.m.

1. QUESTION: Is God a White Nationalist Trump supporter who is disappointed Trump wasn't named Dictator of USA? ANSWER: NO!

2. QUESTION: Is the U.S. Senator from Texas, Ted Cruz, one of the most loathsome people on the planet? ANSWER: YES!

A Bit Less Air Pollution...

Rush Limbaugh is dead at 70.

One of my rules: "Don't speak ill of the dead."  Bad karma. There are exceptions.

I will keep this brief. 

This man gained power, fame, influence and money railing against black folk, gays, women, liberals, Democrats, Hollywood. He was a powerful voice who used it to "punch down" on people with less. A bully, a loudmouth, he spent most of his radio career, stoking hatred, widening political division, and lying to his audience on a daily basis. He built a loyal fan-base, filled his listeners with disinformation. They are the folks who voted for Trump, those people who believe an alternate reality.  Truly a disgrace, a plague, a scourge on America. A cloud of pernicious influence. A black cloud on politics and culture. What a waste of a life. A long-time smoker, he told us that smoking didn't cause cancer, he died of complications related to lung cancer. Oops. The airwaves are suddenly a bit less polluted. Good riddance.

Ashes to Ashes...

The radio tells me: "Ash Wednesday."

I slip into a bit of "time-tripping," back to my days as a Catholic School Boy. I was just wee lad, don't you know? A time of daily prayer, the pledge of the allegiance, tan shirts and blue ties. Learning how to knot a tie, that was a big accomplishment. 

I think back now, those days were all an elaborate theater spectacle. Militant Nuns dressed in severe black, Priests dressed in flowing gowns; golden chalice, incense, standing, sitting and kneeling on cue. There was Confession (yikes!), Communion (yikes!) and once a month Benediction (triple-yikes!)...

I really felt sorry for Jesus. He seemed to be a nice enough Dude, a decent guy who got a raw deal. I did feel sort of guilty about it all, I mean, I was told Jesus died for my sins. Yikes! It didn't make much sense, but I did feel a bit guilty, dirty, & bad.

Getting daubed with ashes, that was a trip. "Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust." It was all sort of creepy, sad and bleak. After school there were little gangs of kids running around the neighborhood with ashes on their foreheads. Some weird cult. 

I couldn't wait to get home, rub the ashes off with my thumb, and sit in front of our little black and white TV to watch reruns of the Three Stooges, I Dream of Jeannie and Gilligan's Island. Those shows were pretty weird, silly, and stupid; I kind of reveled in the anarchic stupidity of it all. It was amazing to watch adults acting so silly. It all seemed like a decided alternative.

Life, color, humor, imagination, play, sexy girls in magic bottles, an island paradise, goofy laughs and giggles, nutty, crazy people doing silly things. The ashes seemed like a distant memory by the time my head hit the pillow.

Luck, Fate, Chance...

It's hard to know...

How much of what happens is pure luck (good or bad), blind, random chance and circumstance, or the pure dumb luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or, alternatively, being in the right place at the right time?

We live in a world of uncertainty. Supposedly every breath we take, every step we make, every cake we bake is subject to the forces of chaos & entropy. It's sort of amazing we have any sense of normality, and security at all. 

I mean that feeling of normality and security is pretty much just a state of mind. Maybe sort of delusional? Subject to change at a moment's notice. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don't. Sometimes happens all the time.

If you are alive and relatively healthy, consider yourself lucky. Truly, madly, deeply. Thank your lucky stars, or the gods, or the fates, or the moment. Yes. Put your faith in the moment.  There is so much chaos, suffering, pain, unhappiness in the world. There is also joy, pleasure, enthusiasm, right feeling, right-working, maybe these forces are always contending, and we are just the playground?

Who knows. Lean to the light. That's about as good as it gets.

The a.m. soundtrack U2's "The Joshua Tree" (1987). No surprise. If I am looking for an "energy kick," I put this one on. It is truly a fabulous record. One of the best-sounding recordings of all time. Credit Daniel Lanois, Brian Eno & Flood. Three geniuses who know how to make compelling, layered, incredible sounding recordings.  I've been listening lately to the 2017 remaster (overseen by Edge) of this record on CD. Am I the only one who has discovered that CDs have just gotten so much better over the last decade or so, now that most folks are streaming? The latest studio tools makes for richer, subtler, warmer, more layered sound-scapes. If you truly want to experience music at it's best you should be spinning CDs or vinyl. Amazing quality. Anyway, listening to this record on headphones is such a joy and pleasure. So many great little details are revealed. It is a certain masterpiece. U2 at their peak, a tremendous band, each musician carves out their own sonic territory, they work together for a transcendent, shimmering, enlightening sound. Over-powering. Bono sings with heart, the Edge provides an incredible landscape of guitars. No wonder this record sold over 25 million copies. It truly does stand up. A monster creative statement. Life-affirming.

Slowly...

"Move slowly and fix your shit."

Funny, I came across that line, looking for something else. Seems significant. I woke up early this a.m. thinking: "I'm Moving on." You know, as in: always keep moving, stay in the flow, flow with the flow, don't hold, need, want, grasp.

Resistance is futile. Surrender Dorothy.

Move. Right? But maybe don't move too fast? The river is rushing. We are always in a whirlwind of events, scenes, news. Chaos seems to bubble up around us at every turn. Our fellow human beings are angry, confused, shouting, crying. It's a cavalcade of emotion out there.

So yes, maybe take one step at a time. Move slowly. And pay attention to your own shit. Lots of fixing to do. Tend to your business, Mister business man...

High Ideals...

Yes. Truth be told. I was disappointed that the Senate failed to convict Trump for his American Atrocity yesterday. It did send me into a bit of a funk, even though I had expected the result. It was pretty much an open and shut case. The Toxic Gaseous Little Baby Man Dirigible gathered a mob, incited a mob, and celebrated in the violence and death that the mob wreaked upon the Capitol. Truth, common sense, Justice would require conviction. But, of course, so predictably, most of the Senate GOP refused to face the truth.

Some of them, of course, were actual accomplices to the crime. They too perpetuated the Big Lie that the election was stolen. Another group of GOP Senators took the weasel way out, letting Trump off on a technicality. It was a terrible charade. Definitely a "Stain on the Nation." Their votes to acquit are the "mark of Cain." Something they must live with for the rest of their lives. A true abdication of their duty to the Constitution and to all that's Right and Good. A true crime against Democracy, the Rule of Law, Truth, Justice, the American Way.

The Democratic Impeachment Managers did a great job. They laid out the case in detail. They told the story well. The case they made, the words they conjured, will resound for years. This was a significant moment in the history of our country.

Turns out 7 Republican Senators voted to convict. I do think they should be commended for the doing the right thing: Richard Burr, Pat Toomey, Ben Sasse, Susan Collins, Mitt Romney, Lisa Murkowski, Bill Cassidy.  They voted their conscience. They voted against their party, and they voted for their country and for Justice. Nicely done. 

So yes, 57 votes to convict. They needed 67 votes. Falls short. But still, it was a noble effort. 

Of course, Republican Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (the greatest hypocrite in the land), voted to acquit and then gave a speech where he admitted Trump was guilty. Amazing hypocrisy.

But finally McConnell uttered the truth: "There is no question that President Trump is practically and morally responsible for provoking the events of that day. The people who stormed this building believed they were acting on the wishes and instructions of their president. And their having that belief was a foreseeable consequence of the growing crescendo of false statements, conspiracy theories, and reckless hyperbole which the defeated president kept shouting into the largest megaphone on planet Earth."

Truth, Justice, Love, Compassion, Empathy... 

These are high ideals. Why are they "high?" You know, they are up there with the Angels. We are down here,  on the ground, rolling in the mud, flawed human beings, trying to do the best we can. We aspire towards those ideals, but we often fall short. That's the human thing. Every day. Try to do our best. We must carry on. Our Democracy is beaten and bloodied, but still alive. A new President, a new day. Yes, let's keep striving for the best. It's the only way forward.

This Seems Like an Easy Call...

The Honorable Senator from Hawaii, Brian Schatz pithy, articulate, concise, and to the point in a Tweet:

"So the question is: Should bullying election officials to overturn a free and fair election, organizing a mob and directing it at the Capitol, and doing nothing to restore order while people die and the VP is being hunted down, be considered permissible? I will vote to convict." - Brian Schatz

Yes. What to say? Seems like an easy & necessary call. Any GOP Senators thinking of voting to acquit are a disgrace, and not friends to Democracy, the Rule of Law, Logic, Common Sense, Truth, Justice the American Way.

Dare I say contemptible? Yes, I dare. Voting to acquit would be cowardly, wormy, disgraceful. Truly, madly, deeply an abominable betrayal of good old USA.

The a.m soundtrack - Miles Davis & Bill Evans' "Sketches of Spain" (1960). Conjuring another time & place. Another world. Atmosphere. Mood. Brilliant. Gorgeous. Transcendent. Unlike anything  else. One of the great records, no doubt.

Going with the Flow...

I have a couple weighty matters hanging over my head. Not unusual. I mean, hell, don't we all?

I am waiting for things to resolve, or "be" resolved. The waiting, as Tom Petty once sang, "Is the hardest part." It's true. And I am not usually a patient human being. I mean, normally, I am quite excitable and absolutely, totally impatient. So this waiting is excruciating.

I mean, decisions coming down, events happening, could alter the course of my existence. Funny. That's always true, and for every one of us. But at the present moment, there are two very particular situations, problems, decisions, matters, that I am waiting on, and it's driving me a bit nutty. I mean, these are things totally "out of my control." I have no way to resolve them on my own. I am relying on others. The "kindness of strangers." Or the "bold indifference" of others. It's a bit dis-empowering, to say the least.

What to do? How not to go totally batty? 

Serpentine. Delve into other things. Occupy myself. Divert my mind. Meditate. Empty my head. 

I imagine a river, I am floating down a river, at first I swim against the current, I think I need to get to the source, like somehow I can alter the course of the river, but this is madness, total delusion. Then I let go, I go with the flow. Do I grab onto a rock? Sit and contemplate? No. Do I swim to shore? Yes. I decide to swim to shore. I haul myself up to the shoreline, sopping wet, tired, unfulfilled, unrequited. I sit and yes, I watch the river flow, and the lyrics to Dylan's great shambling song pops into my head:

People disagreeing on all just about everything, yeah

Makes you stop and all wonder why

Why only yesterday I saw somebody on the street

Who just couldn’t help but cry

Oh, this ol’ river keeps on rollin’, though

No matter what gets in the way and which way the wind does blow

And as long as it does I’ll just sit here

And watch the river flow

- B. Dylan

Trump's American Atrocity...

We listened to day two of the Impeachment Trial in the Senate via NPR. We didn't watch the video imagery, we listened to the words, the descriptions, and imagined the carnage in our reeling minds.

As we all know, at least those of us paying attention, this is not a "real trial," it's a political trial, the jurors are the 100 Senators of the USA. Not an impartial group, in fact these jurors are witnesses, and in the case of many of the Republicans, accomplices (see previous post) to the American Atrocity of the January 6 Capitol Riot & Insurrection.

It was not easy listening. It was harrowing, chilling, mind-boggling. It seems the country came very close to a wild mob taking hostages and murdering our elected officials. What to make of it all? Here are a few key words for me, I think these are words that will turn up in History Books years from now:

Trump's Big Lie

Trump's Murderous Mob

Trump's Incitement

Trump's Insurrection

Trump's Crime

Trump's Dereliction of Duty

Trump's effort to overturn a Free and Fair Election

Our Toxic, Gaseous Little Baby Man Dirigible really did go out with a bang. He should be held accountable, he should be convicted, and barred from any future office, but of course, nearly half the jury is quite biased, so probably not. But the stain on the country is indelible, un-erasable.

Trump's American Atrocity, January 6, 2021, a day that will live in infamy...

Senate GOP Accomplices Can't Handle the Truth...

You know. Maybe it's a forgone conclusion that the Senate will not convict the Toxic, Gaseous Little Baby Man Dirigible for inciting a riot and insurrection at the Capitol on January 6, 2021. 

Of course, they should vote to convict, overwhelmingly. It's pretty much a slam-dunk case. For months Gaseous lied about the election, he lied that he miraculously won, and that it was rigged and stolen. For months he repeated total, blatant, world-class whopper lies. He riled up half the country, he riled up and organized a mob, which then attacked the capitol building with the intent of disrupting and preventing "a peaceful transfer of power" to the new President & Vice President.

It was a deadly, dastardly crime against USA and our Democracy. It was all caught on film. The evidence is recorded on video, explicated in Tweets, and acted out in speeches, and at rallies across the country. Madness. Total madness.

Why will the Senate not vote to convict? You need 17 Republicans to vote against Gaseous. That is doubtful. Why? Because they are accomplices to the crime. Most of the GOP went along with the lies. They either stood back silently, afraid to speak up, or actively encouraged the lies. A crime. No doubt.

So in this trial, accomplices to the crime are also jurors. That's the way impeachment works. It's political. Weird, but true. It's our constitutional system.  Reminds us that the GOP is a broken party. It has devolved into a weird, mad cult of personality. The lunatic fringe is in charge of the levers and buttons.

It is a true stain on our country. A stain on the GOP. A stain on America. Watch the video. Watch it and weep. "Democractic Impeachment Manager Video at Trial - How Trump Instigated Violent Capitol Insurrection."

We will survive this atrocity. Gaseous is hiding out at Mar A Lago, the FBI is hunting down the insurrectionists, our Democracy is resilient, it will survive. But let us not forget, let us never forget what happened on January 6... American Atrocity... 

Of course they should convict the MoFo... no doubt... and those GOP enablers and accomplices should be shamed, censured and voted out... yes, indeed...

Daily Epic Drama...

You worry about the planet, you know, our looming climate catastrophe? You worry about the eternal human conundrum, you know, why are people so fucked up? You worry about where it's all headed, you know, what of the "progress of humanity?" But then, on the other hand, you think it's all so very complicated, and a bit out of your control.  

You hope things will work out for the best.

And then you have to face the day. You have appointments to keep, and it's sub-zero out there. You bundle up, you put your thick socks on, your heavy boots, your layers of sweaters, your over-sized hoodie, your funny winter hat with the flaps, your two layers of masks, and you head out into a hostile landscape. 

Snow, treacherous ice, cold wind, dark, looming clouds. You trudge. You trudge slowly, one slow-walk step at a time. A bit zombified. You feel like a character in a Samuel Beckett play. Just a simple, plain human being facing the great an epic battle; ragged, beat, just trying to endure the incomprehensible elements of  daily living.

You worry about falling. Falling is bad. Not recommended. You do not want to fall. You walk. Alone. For hours. You go here, you go there, you do the things you have committed to doing. It's a long day of trudging. When you get back home, you are exhausted. Tired. Beyond tired. That's a day right there.

You put your headphones on and listen to music. And then, early evening, you and your companion stream the last three hours of Tony Kushner's great epic Pulitizer Prize winning masterpiece play: "Angels in America,"  directed by Mike Nichols, and starring Jeffery Wright, Meryl Streep, Al Pacino, Mary Louise Parker, and a fully-stocked cast of brilliant actors.

It's an epic work about the mid 80's plague years. So resonant, relevant and alive today. All the same issues and concerns are embedded in the work. It is about then and about now, all the brilliance flashing thru the 2020's plague years too. 

Art. It is a life-saver. Fills you up, inspires, revives.  A much needed booster shot. No doubt. Fortified to face another day.

The Challenge...

The challenge...

It's February. Dark. Super-dark. Mornings are dead-dark. Evenings start early. Basically it's dark to dark with a few brief sightings of daylight.

And it's cold. Super-cold. Sub-zero cold. Everything is frozen. Ice is treacherous. It's like living in a walk-in freezer. Even our apartment is cold. The old radiators are clanking away, working hard, just to try to bring a bit of warmth to our cold, cold hearts.

We are isolated. Cut-off from "normality." We live in our home. Two of us, with a flock of birds. We are hiding from the Pandemic. Hiding from our fellow human beings. We figure everyone is contaminated with that nasty, contagious, virus. Doing our best to stay healthy until the vaccine arrives.

No word on that vaccine. Supplies are scarce. Lots of folks in line before us. So, well, the challenge is to stay bright, happy, hopeful. How to do it? Fill our heads, our lives with books, music, poetry, art, love, good vibes, good food, positive thoughts and good vibrations. 

We are left on our own, to our own devices. Headphones, stereo systems, musical instruments, our own sense of humor, our sense of discipline, our our mental toughness, our wits. We are writing and playing songs. Keeping our eyes peeled, our hearts open, our heads swimming with diversions, hopes, entertainments.  

It's a weird life at the moment. But, you know, it is good to be alive...

To Live... As... If...

To Live... As... If...

The sun will shine tomorrow

Tomorrow will be better than today

Love is King

Everything will be fine

Anything can happen

All the doors and windows are open

The Future is Unwritten

We will make it

Life is Beautiful

The Good News...

It's funny, but true. Every morning I do the same thing. I walk into the kitchen, switch on the coffee machine, and then walk over, and switch on the radio. I drink some lemon-water, take a few vitamins, and unload the dishwasher.

The radio is tuned to NPR. It's our primary source of information. I believe it's reliable, truthful, fact-based journalism at it's best. Some mornings, for some reason, NPR doesn't come in clearly. There's static on the air, somehow, mysteriously, overnight, the "wires get crossed," or the tuning some how gets "off," and the radio is tuned between stations, with white noise coming from the speakers.

Yesterday, I fiddled with the dial and a man's voice came out loud and clear, he was in conversation with someone else and he said: "It's time that we stopped listening to politicians, stopped talking about the issues of the day, and got serious, and acknowledged the Good News, that Jesus Christ died for our sins."

Holy Moly. Hah. If I were a different kind of person, I might take that as sign, or a secret message, a hint that I should change my ways.  Funny, though, I'm NOT  that kind of person.  What was my reaction? "Oh no, not that Jesus guy! That's NOT NPR!"

It took a minute or two, but finally I pushed past the static and tuned back to my favorite station. News. News of the day: the good, the bad, the ugly. Whatever, I can take it. Jesus or no Jesus. I mean, "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine..." (hat tip: Patti Smith)...

More Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions!

More Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions!

1. Is Covid-19 a Hoax? NO, you freaking idiot. People are getting sick & dying every damn day. Wear a mask. Keep your distance. The vaccine is coming to your neighborhood soon.

2. Should I get the vaccine when it's available? Yes. Of course. Don't be a fucking idiot.

3. Is the Toxic Gaseous Dirigible still Gaseous? Yes. Indeed. Just because he is permanently banned from Twitter doesn't mean he isn't still Toxic & Gaseous. 

4. Will the Toxic Gaseous Dirigible testify at his Impeachment Trial? Looks like a firm No. He is a coward first and foremost, no doubt. That is the Bully's way. Talk tough, but cower when it counts. Plus of course, there is no good defense for his actions.  He will hide and cower, for sure.

5. Are you surprised that Marilyn Manson is not the best "dating" material out there? Hah. Who could have seen that one coming? But, you know, I mean, no, not surprised...

Toxic Ideas Have Consequences...

"I heard it through the grapevine..." (Hat Tip: Whitfield & Strong)

I found this circulating rumor sort of hilarious.  

We live in a progressive blue bubble around here. Not many MAGA folks live or work in our neighborhood. There are a few. Turns out one of the musician/vocalists we know (we share a rehearsal space), is deep into the Trump/Q madness. She thinks the Toxic Gaseous Dirigible is some kind of redeeming savior. Yes. Freaking Nutzo!  She was at the Capitol Insurrection on January 6th.  Not sure if she was one of the folks who actually rioted and entered the Capitol building, but she was there to cheer on Trump, to heed his call to overturn a free and fair election. We don't know if the FBI has contacted her yet.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste. 

What do I know about this woman? She's white & "conservative." She puts on a front, but does not seem like a happy person. I have had a few "run-ins" with her. Not over politics, we have never discussed politics, I think we both knew that we saw things quite differently. My band, our music, our vibe is pretty left-wing, hippie; you know "what's so funny about peace, love & understanding?" (Hat tip: Nick Lowe).

I do think she is an example of someone who has filled her mind with total garbage. Which can come back and bite you in the ass. Seems now she is very, very unhappy. She can't deal with the truth that Joe Biden beat Trump fair and square. She's ranting, raving. She has gone off the deep end. Lunacy. Yes. Madness. Embracing toxic ideas has consequences. 

It is sort of hilarious, because this is a free choice that this person has made. There's no good reason for this woman to embrace these toxic ideas. It's sad, because, it seems she is beyond help. The consensus in my circle: "Let's do our best to avoid this person." Yes. Indeed. Let's!

Crazy Spouting Crazy...

"Loony lies and conspiracy theories."

Yes. That is the GOP brand. No doubt. No surprise that crazy people are spouting crazy shit. It is amazing that a political party is dedicated to the crazy.  GOP party leaders are actually intimidated by their own crazy followers.

Expect more craziness when we get to the Impeachment Trial in the Senate next week. The Toxic Gaseous Dirigible will be on trial for inciting a riot and trying to over-throw a free & fair election. Hard to believe it happened in good old USA, but unfortunately that is the real story.

The rest of us choose to live in the real world. You know, a world of common sense, truth & consequences.  I don't think things will end well for Gaseous. We shall see...

"Yes, and..."

The great lesson we learned from long-form improvisation, always keep the scene going with the connecting line: "Yes, and..."

We love the open-ended nature of the enterprise. Of course, it is useful to think of our lives as "long-form improvisations." So this "yes, and..." is a great tool to use in our day day.  It is best to keep ourselves open-minded, and open-ended. Aways onto the next thing. No stopping or clinging to old pictures.

Drop the judgements and opinions  and take a breather. Take in the day as it is. No clinging to the past, no conjuring too far in the future. Best to be alive in the moment.

We live our lives moment to moment. Best to be engaged there. Come what may. Alive. Aware. Awake. "Yes, and..."

No Sense Fretting...

First day of February, 2021.  Improbable!

The last 12 months have been the year of The Hermit, you know, the narrow path? Brought to us by the raging global pandemic. Add in a snowstorm this weekend, and hell, that Hermit-like existence is the perfect pick to click.

"Surrender Dorothy."

Yes. No sense fretting, or fighting, or complaining, or wishing for Spring. Pandemic Winter is here. Now. Best to just deal with it: hunker in, take stock, bundle up, grab a good book, cook up a hot meal, do less, dream more.

Lesson. What is the lesson? There are many things we just have to accept. The path has narrowed. There is still a way forward, we just need to adapt, adjust, evolve. Be flexible. Take what comes. It's ok. Winter. Surrender to the cold, the snow, the wind, the short days, the long nights. It's not forever. It does have it's stark beauty. Go with that, for now...