Rest In Peace

Dan Fogelberg passed away yesterday at his home in Maine at the age of 56...his music will live on in the hearts of many...some of my musical cohorts found him a bit syrupy for their tastes, but i always enjoyed his musicianship and ability to craft hit songs...

...the great angelic choir has added one more wonderful voice...

...upon pondering the previous post, i recall that Hitler was a staunch vegetarian...hmmm...nice thought there, Leo...

As long as there are slaughterhouses, there will be battlefields.

Tolstoy

"The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs. There is also a negative side."

Hunter S. Thompson

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest
where no one sees you,

but sometimes i do,
and that sight becomes this art.

~ Jelaluddin Rumi ~

Burt the Turtle

...uh...that question in the last post was of a rhetorical nature, admittedly cynical i confess...i care for every sentient creature on this fragile little blue and green rock...for those old enough to remember, this week marks the 45th anniversary of the Cuban missle crisis...i clearly recall cartoons with Burt the Turtle telling us all to duck and cover when the atomic flash came...and that a newspaper or thin piece of cloth could protect areas not covered by clothing...yeah, right...
...those were honestly frightening times...the Boogie Man was real and ninety miles off our sandy, palm lined shores...decisive action was taken by deliberate men and nuclear holocaust was averted, and now we are spinning into this new millenium chasing ghosts in thin dry air, being sold the lie that we are involved in the battle for all of civilization...
...i fear no man, no matter his color, ethnicity or religion...i refuse to be terrorized...one might kill my body, but my spirit will remain unharmed...

i love all of you, all my brothers and sisters...

...yeah, even you George...

...the capacity to care
is the thing which gives
life its deepest meaning
and significance...
~ Pablo Casals ~

...and who gives a rat's ass?
~ soul pumpkin ~

~Pixie does ~
...take that...

Land of the Free

...it came to my attention yesterday that the American Civil Liberties Union, that feared bastion of leftist liberalism, is coming to the defense of Sen. Larry Craig...they contend that it is not illegal to proposition someone for sex in a men's toilet, just so long as the actual sex takes place in private...this Senator who has helped trample on the rights of so many others now being protected by an organization that he has likely defamed at one time or another...this truly is (or was) the land of the free...

...the land of decree, the home of depraved...

a walk in the rain
cool on the skin
harder to tell
that you've been crying

and there's always
that outside chance
that you'll be struck by
lightening...

dreams

these days
i wish for sleep to be
deep
dreamless
dark as India ink

dreams are vaporous illusions
lovely lies i tell to myself
that never make sense and
never come true

Things.

Stay.

Please stay.

We grow this way... it's our nature... our history... our MO...

... please stay.

...how far down the rabbit hole do you wish to go?

bye bye Gonzo...maybe now you and Karl can figure out how to stay out of jail...

...staying out of Hell is another matter entirely...

23rd Psalm for Bassists

The Lord is my drummer, I shall not rush
He maketh me to lay out in tasteful places
He leadeth me beside cool meter change
He restoreth my "one"

Yeah man, though i read through the trickiest of charts
I will fear no train wrecks
For you are with it
Your ride and your snare, they comfort me

You setteth up a solo for me
In the prescence of mine guitarists
You annointeth my lines with drive
My Groove overfloweth

Surely good feel and swing will follow me
Through all the tunes of each set
And I will dwell in the pocket
The whole gig long

Oh Man!

what is the meaning of this?

...woke up this morning with a strange dream echoing in my head...was at a gig...not sure where...big stage...festival sort of thing...came back after a break to find some kids wankin' away at two of my three basses onstage and on each of the basses the G string was broken and i didn't have a single extra string in my gig bag...i was pissed...where the fuck was security?...
...then i woke up...

i take this as a sign to go buy more strings (and keep young wankers away from the basses)

some historical footnotes

...journal excerpts from 31 october '89 12:25 AM

too much time since the last entry, but what else is new?...somehow muddled through another month...still have creditors on my ass but again, what else is new?...met a new friend saturday night at The Monastery...actually it was like re-meeting an old friend...an immediate and deep bond seems to be forming but logic tells me to exercise caution and take things slowly, but as i said, the attraction is strong and sudden...
...Shelleigh is her name and she's chronologically younger than i, but an old soul, wise beyond her years...

and the verses that came from that first encounter...

...there's someone rattling the bars
of my heartcage
walked right through the maze i'd made
surveyed my barriers unfazed
and swept them away with a glance and a smile...

now here a familiar stranger stands
(a lover from other times and other lands?)
with magic eyes and an artist's hands
you penetrate the facade
and stir the sleeping soul within
been asleep for ages
don't know how to begin...

and i want to begin again
but i'm clumsy and afraid...
been alone with my thoughts for so long
that the words come hard now that there is one
i wish to say them to...

Jackson

...one of my best feline buddies had an argument with a vehicle this morning;
the vehicle won...

rest peacefully, Jackson...

you will be sorely missed by all your human friends...

post-gig ramblings...2:48 AM

...did a somewhat rare "electric band" show tonight, with the addition of drums and electric guitar to the usual acoustic guitar/bass format...being that we are all loud, forceful players and were squeezed onto a tiny stage in a bar with wonky acoustics, the dynamics got away from us at times...but a spendid time was had by all, even if we did suffer some hearing loss...i just tell myself that the ringing in my head is crickets...
...but it was really freakin' loud, i will freely confess and can make no apologies for being such...part of me is still a snarling seventeen year old rock & roll punk with an upraised middle finger, back when i had more attitude and patches on my jeans than talent...

...and all these years hence
still out in the trenches
night by
night...



good night...

Happy Birthday, Kate Bush....

Happy Birthday Mom...

What flower are you?

Pixie is a Canna What Flower Are You?

Thanks, Miss Cellania!

The Sunrise Ruby

In the early morning hour,
just before dawn, lover and beloved wake
to take a drink of water.

She asks, "Do you love me or yourself more?
Really, tell the absolute truth"

He says, "There's nothing left of me.
I'm like a ruby held up to the sunrise.
Is it still a stone, or a world
made of redness? It has no
resistance to sunlight."

The ruby and sunrise are one.
Be courageous and discipline yourself.

Completely become hearing and ear,
and wear this sun-ruby as an earring.

Work. Keep digging your well.
Don't think about getting off from work.
Water is there somewhere

Submit to a daily practice.
Your loyalty to that
is a ring on the door.

Keep knocking, and the joy inside
will eventually open a window
and look to see who's there.

Rumi

well...it would appear that the planet survived the few hours that Dick Cheney was serving as "acting President" while Bushie had his brain scan...er...colonoscopy...

...bless us one and all...

...was talking with a friend earlier about how there's a war on drugs , a war on terror, a war on poverty, a war on this and a war on that...

decided there should be a "war on morons"

not naming any names, but...

happy holidaze - part three

...Californian Joey Chestnut defeats Takeru Kobayashi in Nathan's annual hotdog eating competition and brings the Mustard Belt back to our shores by scarfing sixty-six frankfurters in twelve minutes...

...i've never been so proud to be an American...

happy holidaze - part two

...watching an arizona diamondbacks game on the telly...lots of patriotic content given what day it is...an az. sportscaster is interviewing a national guardsman back here at home because of bodily injuries and on two occasions says to this wounded warrior "I'll bet you'd like to be back in Iraq right now with your buddies"...no response each time...when finally given the chance to speak his heart he said he was glad to be here...not there...and that he wished all his brothers in arms were home...now...

...message received...

peace...

happy holidaze

...as you are sitting by your comfy pools, enjoying your holiday barbeques,
lend a moment of thought to the the thousands and thousands of folks
displaced by Katrina still languishing in funky FEMA trailers,
many with perfectly good homes to return to but kept away by
the "movers and shakers" who plot to steal their property...

...thank whatever diety you pray to that you are not one of
the moved and the shaken...

...Martha Stewart goes to jail...even Paris Hilton goes to jail...but Scooter Libby runs free...

...what a world...

Some things....

Dear Kevin...
I think about our worlds every day.
I think about your world.
I think about my world.
I wonder
sometimes
how we ever came together
at
all.

We are the perfect dichotomy. We are resonance. we are dissonance. We are soul mates. We are polar opposites by appearance and the same person to each other... as mimes, we'd be the best ever. Mirror image.

I love you.
I miss you.
I feel your absence more fiercely than I feel your presence...

but the most important thing is... I ALWAYS FEEL YOU.

I miss you.
I love you.

nite nite.

a post from the road

...escaping the brutal summer sizzle of phoenix
in the cooler climes of northern arizona
two days of shows and then further north to
telluride....

...would be great to spend the entire
season of oven-like temperatures
on the road in the great north woods

no such luck...

Who Says Words With My Mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is
the soul? I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks

I didn't come here of my own accord,
and I can't leave that way.

Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

Jalaluddin Rumi

Godfrey Daniel...it's too hot to think lucid thoughts...perhaps reason will return in October....

(Pixie's note: but hopefully you'll return before then... *kiss kiss*)

i've been away...but have returned...

strange days are upon us...

Hearty Congratulations, Brid and Graham!

Welcome to the planet, young Conor...

it's a wild world out there
we'll all be looking out for you
(until you can look out for us)

Yoikes...I Hath Been Tagged...

...Pixie asked that i reveal six weird things about myself...it was a large field of oddities and hard to narrow down, but here goes (in no particular order of importance)

1. my feet...to say that they are Hobbit-like is to be kind...i was born with three bones missing in each foot making them extremely flat... in high school gym class, my wet footprints leading from the showers to the locker area prompted the gym teacher to ask if i had a duck in my locker...funny guy...

2. my middle name which is Klor...like my pedal extremeties, another present from my loving parents...also my father's middle name, i hated it with a passion when i was a little kid...but then i discovered where the name came from...when my father was born, the delivery was very difficult and he and my grandmother were both in danger of dying...but an old Swedish country doctor stayed with them for several days, tending each problem that arose...as you might have figured out, they both recovered fully...this kindly old doctor was named Klor Parent...so my father was given that name, and i in turn was given the name...i now wear it proudly...

3. like Pixie, i have a serious peanut butter jones...for as long as i can remember i have slathered peanut oleo on any number of foodstuffs...in addition to the wonderful peanut butter and bacon sammiches, i used to put peanut butter and mustard on my hotdogs, peanut butter and Miracle Whip on bologna, would heat it up and pour it over vanilla ice cream with hot fudge...thank you George Washington Carver...

4. first spoken words...i was one of those wide-eyed silent sort of babies...my folks later told me that they were concerned that i was deaf or at least a little vacant...but just short of my second birthday, i was sitting on the floor with my grandmother as she read the newspaper...she was a tiny woman and it was easier than trying to hold the paper up as she read...anyway...she would read outloud to me in hopes to get me to say something...anything...and wouldn't you know it, one day i point at an advertisement and blurt out "Sealy Posturpedic Mattress"...Grandma swore to her dying day that this story is absolutely true...

5. i am a pack rat...maybe not all that weird...but i still have an old coffee can full of drawing pencils from my days at art school in the '70's...and i haven't done a pencil drawing in decades....at the violin shop where i work, i have several boxes of wood chunks of various types and sizes, stuff that most builders would have thrown away...perhaps it's because i have such a high regard for the magnificent trees that give themselves so that we might make music with them...

6. i love cemeteries...graveyards...burial grounds, what have you...and not the flat expanses of stoneless green with tuffs of plastic flowers marking the final resting place of someone's loved one that are in favor these days, but old graveyards with big trees, massive blocks of granite and marble, crypts and mausoleums...where i grew up there were hundreds of such places to explore within easy driving distance of my house...old boneyards from the days of The Revolutionary War and the conflicts with the Native American tribes that fought fiercely to hold on to their beautiful Ohio homeland...i guess the really weird part is that my girlfriend and i used to hang out after school in a particularly old magnificent cemetary and get high and screw our brains out in a mausoleum that always seemed to be unlocked...right there on a marble bench in front of all the dearly departed stacked in the wall in neat rows...if there is a hell, my ticket has already been punched...

...weird enough for ye?...

keep a green tree
in your heart
and perhaps
a singing bird will come

-Chinese proveb

thumbing through an old journal tonight
words from half a lifetime away
so much is so different and yet
so much remains the same
alone again waiting for that
one great love
that always seems to
elude me
out of place
out of time
the wrong face
the wrong line
steps re-traced
intertwined
warm embrace
serpentine

some nights it's strange returning
to my cloistered monk-like cell
after evenings onstage
admired by thousands
ummm....hundreds....
ok...perhaps dozens...
but it's not the glamorous life
that most of them would imagine

your humble rock&roll narrator
instigator
agitator
spectator
perpetrator
fornicator (well...i used to be)
curator
educator
procrastinator
navigator...and after years on the road
i rarely get lost
and yet i can't find my way
to my heart...

...reading the biography of the Beatles by Bob Spitzer
and among the many discoveries and realizations,
tonight i came to learn that the first LP, With the Beatles
was released the same day as JFK's assassination...

...weird coincidence...the world pivoting on two points at the same time...

...i fear not having chances
to say words left unsaid
i fear these wild imaginings
that spin inside my head
i fear this story ending
before it even starts
i fear i might be spending
last coins from a bankrupt heart...

surge?...surge my furry pink Scandinavian ass...
...here's an exit strategy for you...planes, trains, trucks, busses...anything with wings or wheels...
load them up and bring them home
now...
today...

clocks melt
sundials shatter
hourglass clatters
to the ground
churchbells sound
no more...


untold uncounted words
reside in a smile
infinite symphonies
sing in a whisper
illusion and reality run
hand in hand
forward and
backward and
outward and
inward

enriched as Solomon
i am,
to have wandered
into the path of your
devastating smile...

Catskill Interludes (the initiation of Steve)

Zelda and Carmella
with boufants to the ceiling
and eyeshadow thick as blue crayola
wornout brassieres bear
mysterious aroma
intoxicates like soma
or some sweet retsina
long dangling earrings
like razors on my shoulders
hairspray makes me wheezy
horizontal mambo slow and sleazy
with Steve & Edie crooning
all night long
Catskill interludes...


...a tale related to me by a songwriting partner of his deflowering that just called out to be put into verse...