Saturday, April 30, 2011


I do not envy, in fact my heart hurts a little for the citizens of the south that have been whipped about by the severe weather lately.

It has been quite strange, weather-wise, and winter becomes spring...and then reverts again to winter....and then reverts back to spring for a couple of hours, and then crushes us back into winter with another blizzard.

Yes, you heard that right....another BLIZZARD.

On the 30th of April.

The first signs of it came through my workspace this morning, at just around 0445 (most, if not all of you, should have either been asleep, or past caring by that time of the morning). A small town in the northwest corner of the Northern State is being crushed by a blizzard that will make its own way to the East as the day progresses.

We expect 4-6 inches of snow before the sun rises on Sunday.

Lucky for me my lawn is done....but I do fear that the water in my sprinkler system might freeze, and explode. But probably not after two days of this stuff. I hope.

I am so tired of this, I could just strangle a penguin.

Friday, April 29, 2011

There is much here that makes no sense; maybe you'll want to skip it....wait until tomorrow...I'm sure he'll have a topic by then....then again.....

Random thoughts:

I think that the word, "Baby" as a term of endearment is annoying. Especially when it's used to sell Pine-Sol.

Similarly, I get annoyed at the Holier-Than-Thou tone that comes with those commercials asking for money to feed children in far-away places. Especially since the announcer hanging out with the needy children seem to be well-fed. Share your lunch, ya bastard!

The other day, I sat in a Starbucks located inside the Barnes and Noble, and talked theatre for two hours. As I stated at the end of the conversation, I either need to do it more often.....or less, so I wouldn't miss it as much as I do when I get to have conversations like that.

I wonder, when this part of my life is finished, if I'll be able to wash all the knowledge out of my head. I don't want to know the many ways that radical strangers can kill me.

The National Weather Service reports that we have an opportunity for some snow this weekend.

Request permission to peel the skin right off of my skull.

I can remember, when I was in college, reading a cheesy little play called, THE DAY THEY KIDNAPPED THE POPE. The story is basically summed up in the title; the ransom is that the world must be completely at peace for one day; and the Pope himself decides to remain kidnapped until such a thing happens.

And it does.

I wonder what it would be like to have complete peace for 24 hours.

Do you think that a conversation would begin, to possibly extend that feeling? Or, do you think that we would bide our time, wait for the time to run out, and go back to what we were doing?

Why can't it be simple? Why must we make some kind of public ritual out of everything?

Okay, I'm done.

Enjoy the wedding.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

I'm an over 40 victim of fate......

I saw him sing this song, way back in the 80's.

For some reason that escapes me, I woke up singing this song.

I wonder what that bodes.

But it's a good song.


Tuesday, April 26, 2011

I am tired of the Voices of Upheaval; and am ready for the Voices of Reason to Prevail.

I'm putting forth the idea that Sunday, May 1st, should be declared, NATIONAL TAKE A DEEP BREATH DAY.

There is a lot of Bulls**t being spewed out on our Nation's airwaves....a bit more than usual, and a bit less interesting than the usual Bulls**t.

Now, I've said before (and you can look it up, if you want to scroll through oodles of blog entries) that I may completely disagree with what you say; my gorge may rise at the very sound of your voice, spewing whatever nonsense comes into your pin-shaped head.

But I will fight to the death for your right to say it.

But we need a level of debate here that goes BEYOND the Fourth Grade Playground crap we've been forced to listen to from a certain thrice-married, twice-bankrupted individual who combs his hair with some kind of rake device.

Did you, sir, not only question our President's birth, but also his high school grades, and did you suggest that perhaps he got his Ivy League education not because he worked for it, but because he had some kind of...shall we say...racial stepladder?

And then, did you go on to say, ON A NATIONALLY BROADCAST NETWORK, that you couldn't prove it, but you believed it just the same?

I will, in fact, fight to the death for you right speak your mind.

But you can't yell FIRE in a crowded theatre. And you shouldn't be able to slander a man ON A NATIONALLY BROADCAST NETWORK for the sake of entertainment.

Because, you can say it's entertainment; but a majority of this country who believe that you are actually running for President see it as 'political fact.'

And that is very dangerous.

So, Ladies and Gentlemen: I'm going to see how much clout I actually have. On May 1st, at Noon Eastern Time, I want everybody to stop what they're doing, take a deep breath, and exhale slowly.

Take a moment.

Quoth Gandhi:

Keep your thoughts positive,
because your thoughts become your words.

Keep your words positive,
because your words become your behaviours.

Keep your behaviours positive,
because your behaviours become your habits.

Keep your habits positive,
because your habits become your values.

Keep your values positive,
because your values become your destiny.

Thank you for listening.

Monday, April 25, 2011

I hate to fly, but long for the stars.

When I was a lad, a thing called SKYLAB fell from the sky.

They knew it was going to fall, of course; a lot of laws have been bent and twisted and broken over the years, but the simplicity of Newton's first law, "What goes UP, must come DOWN" has never been defeated.

The thing of it was, they weren't certain WHERE it was going to come down.

That's the problem with putting things up're never sure where they're going to land.

So.....all that day, I wore a white hard hat with a target drawn on its top. I didn't get hit by falling debris, but I did get my laughs, which is what I was going for in the first place. I was going for laughs; not for space debris.

I saw DEAD LIKE ME. I know what happens when you get hit by the space toilet seat.

It was July of 1979. Ten days later, I stopped laughing for what seemed like forever. But I've told that story, so I'm moving on.....

If we attribute the first actual flight of Heavier Than Air Craft to the Wright Brothers in 1903, and the first successful landing upon a foreign celestial body at 1969, then we managed to go from Zero to The Moon in 66 years, give or take a few months.

And in the ensuing 42 years, we have done nothing more than build an airplane that can get to a Space Station that will evenutally fall to Earth.

And even that is pretty much done, or will be soon. And even though there is talk of a 'Next Generation' of space exploration.....there is a general belief that the people of the USA don't think there's any practical reason to journey out there, anymore.

There's enough to do here, I guess. We have projects here on Earth we can better use that money for. Perhaps a Corn Museum in Nebraska. Or a Bridge to Nowhere in Alaska.

It's amazing how far we haven't come.

The Spirits of Lewis and Clark, Robert Peary, Edmund Hillary, Richard Francis Burton, the Wright Brothers, the Montgolfier Brothers, and the spirits of those men and women who gave all so that we could explore that 'Final Frontier' are weeping.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Floating down the stream of consciousness......

It's a bit before 3 AM, and here I am....again.

Adulthood is not about getting older; it's about getting used to the repetition that life becomes.

Life is a banquet, so they say...and most poor sons-of-bitches are starving to death.

Feed me, Krelborn, feed me now.......

A long time ago, or maybe it wasn't.....there was a girl that would hold my hand in the dark as we listened to the world go on around us. Her hand was soft and warm, and her eyes were kind and pretty when they danced with the seemingly endless excitement she enjoyed.

I miss that.

It finally stopped snowing here in the Capital City of the Northern State. It's still cold in the nighttime, but getting warmer in the daytime. Things are melting. It's almost time to start thinking less about snow plowing and more about lawn mowing.

It's always something.....

There's a tradition I had for many years when I lived in Missouri, and this time of year was marked by the ending of a Semester, with a herd of graduates from the Hilltop College running off to real life. There were projects to grade, finals to mark, and the prospect of a summer theatre gig sitting warm in my chest.

In the warmth of the Missouri spring, it was a tradition to listen to a particular radio program in it's entirety. I got the idea from a stage manager friend of mine, who on the first day of summer would read THE GREAT GATSBY from cover to cover.

I would listen to the ZBS production called SARATOGA SPRINGS from start to finish. 91 episodes; about six hours of really fun radio comedy/drama, following the fictional lives of these characters who live in Saratoga Springs.

I wore out the cassette tapes years ago, so I stopped the tradition.

But they just re-released the entire work on CD. I'm in heaven. The tradition begins again.

Springtime.....Baseball starting up; Hockey winding down; Basketball to ignore; Saratoga Springs; and the desire to do something theatrically significant.....

Well....four out of five ain't bad.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

My Love is an Anchor Tied to You, Tied With a Silver Chain...

Think about the many times I have fallen......

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Oh, for a TARDIS......

"Eldraad Must Live."

I have followed the BBC series Doctor Who since I was in high school; and yes, that was a long time ago. My first Doctor was John Pertwee; and his companion was a plucky lass by the same of Sarah Jane Smith.

I had a huge crush on Sarah Jane Smith.

I followed her through the Tom Baker years, through Daleks and Sontaarans and finally, Eldraad, in The Hand of Fear.

And then, just as the call came from Gallifrey, she was gone.

My heart broke a little.

Yeah, she reappeared later, and I was grateful to see her again. It was joyous to re-live the old episodes in my head, and get that resolution that came with her re-appearance during the Tennant years.

Back in '85, I had a friend of mine send me an autographed photo of Ms. Sladen, from London; she had appeared at some function and he told her that she had a huge fan in the North of Michigan...and she signed the photo, "To John With Thanks for the Affection. Lis Sladen."

Alas, the photo was lost in the Great Storage Flood of '98, but the memory lives on....

Elisabeth Sladen passed today after a battle with the C.

She will be missed by friends, family, and a huge fan from the North of Michigan.

Monday, April 18, 2011


Good morning, America, how are ya?

It's currently snowing in the Northern State.

Yeah....we got about three inches on Friday....and we're expecting several more inches before the storm clears on Wednesday.

It's an accepted legend that Mother Nature gives one more little F.U. as Winter becomes Spring...just to remind you who rules the roost. Even as the flowers and the trees begin to bloom, I hold out from putting the shovels and the snowblower away...for there is always one more parting shot.

Of course, I'll complain a little...after a long cold winter, you kind of want that "There Has To Be A Morning After" moment, where the snow fades and the sun comes out and you've survived another attempt on your life.

And I'm pretty sure I'll complain in July when the temps and the humidity conspire to suffocate me and leave my body on the side of the road.

Bi-Polar. That's what the Northern State is.

Tomorrow, the city goes to the polls to vote on whether to make the city smoke-free; the restaurants, the bars, etc.

Oh, and we're also voting on a sales tax to pay for the vote.

There's just enough weirdness in my life to make it interesting.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

From the Dustbin of My Mind.

In memory of Nipsey Russell, who had several careers. The most visible for a young man watching television in the 70's was his stint on many a game show, and he was often put upon to quote some original poetry....and since I may as well wrap up this week with poetry (because my last two or three posts were influenced by it), I quote one of my favorites....

The opposite of 'pro' is 'con';
The fact is clearly seen!
But if 'Progress' means move forward,
Then what does 'Congress' mean?

Have a good day.

Friday, April 15, 2011

One More Poem.

Spike Milligan is one of my heroes.....a brilliant writer, an eccentric performer, creator of some of the best characters ever (Eccles, Bluebottle, and Neddie Seagoon), and the soothing balm for my younger soul. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard as I did the first time I heard THE GOON SHOW on the BBC back in 1979.....and Spike's sense of hilarity gave me a greater appreciation for MONTY PYTHON and it's like.

Ironically, Spike died the very night before I was to choreograph one of his songs in a review I was doing in California back in 2002.

I excused myself to the back of the theatre for five minutes to weep for the man I never got a chance to meet.

This poem is one of my favorites.

On the Ning Nang Nong
Where the Cows go Bong!
And the monkeys all say BOO!
There's a Nong Nang Ning
Where the trees go Ping!
And the tea pots Jibber Jabber Joo!
On the Nong Ning Nang
All the mice go Clang!
And you just can't catch 'em when they do!
So it's Ning Nang Nong
Cows go Bong!
Nong Nang Ning
Trees go Ping!
Nong Ning Nang
The mice go Clang!
What a noisy place to belong
is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

A Little Light Verse...Half the Calories of Regular Verse!

My friend Kizz reminds me that today is something called 'Poem in the Pocket Day.'

I must admit that poetry is one of my weakest subjects; I am reasonably versed (yes, I meant it) in T.S. Eliot, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson and the sonnets of Shakespeare, but my favorite poet was a fellow my Father introduced me to when I was just a lad.

Ladies and Gentleman, allow me to present to you....Ogden Nash!

Fahrenheit Gesundheit

Nothing is glummer
Than a cold in the summer.
A summer cold
Is to have and to hold.

A cough in the fall
Is nothing at all,
A winter snuffle
Is lost in the shuffle,
And April sneezes
Put leaves on the treeses,
But a summer cold
Is to have and to hold.

Through golf course and beach
Slip beyond your reach,
By a fate grotesque
You can get to your desk,
And there is no rescue
From this germ grotesque.
You can feel it coming
In your nasal plumbing,
But there is no plumber
For a cold in the summer.

Nostrilly, tonsilly,
It prowls irresponsilly;
In your personal firmament
Its abode is permanent.
Oh, would it were curable
Rather than durable;
Were it Goering's or Himmler's,
Or somebody simlar's!
O Laval were it thine!
But it isn't, it's mine.
A summer cold
Is to have and to hold.

And because of Kizz, and her recent penchant for the works of Dorothy Parker, I present my favorite of her works......

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Talk to you soon......

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Cinema Veribad. So Veribad, it's Verigood.

Apparently, there is a humorous statue of ROBOCOP floating around the city of Detroit.

There is, of course, also talk of a REAL statue of ROBOCOP to be erected and displayed in Detroit.....and this is just what a major city of 771,000 people (down 200,000 since the last census, by the way) needs.

But that's not really what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about the Statue of Snake Plissken in St. Louis, where a majority of ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK was filmed.

No, I don't want to talk about that, either.

I was thinking about ROBOCOP, and that invariably leads me to Peter Weller, the star of ROBOCOP...and THE ADVENTURES OF BUCKAROO BANZAI.

If you've never seen this movie....well, I'm not actually going to recommend it, because half of you reading this will appreciate the whimsy and the eighties kitsch, and the rest of you will claim that I contributed to the death of several of your brain cells, so...caveat cinemarium.

But I love it.

I love it because Peter Weller is so understated, he might actually be in a fugue state.

I love it, because John Lithgow was so over the top, there was not one piece of scenery unchewed.

Clancy Brown, the hardest, most underrated actor in show business in the late 80's early 90's.

And Jeff Goldblum. And Christopher Lloyd as John Bigboote. (BIG BOOTAY!)

I think I was one of like a dozen people who saw the thing in a theatre. It did not achieve it's cult status until HBO and Videotape brought it to the masses. Kind of like MAD MAX.

By the way, I also saw WIRED, which was a terrible, terrible film about the life and death of John Belushi. I was the only one in the theatre. The box office attempted to bribe me to leave. I should've taken them up on it. Bad. Bad. Bad.
Thank goodness Michael Chiklis survived it.

Okay. It's time for me to watch a film. I'm thinking AMAZON WOMEN ON THE MOON. I'm in the mood for Don "No Soul" Simmons.

You need to watch that film, too.


Monday, April 11, 2011

How long....has this been going on?

Is it possible to be claustrophobic in your own skin?

I gots that feeling.

You can't run fast enough; you can't think your way out of it. The idea of clawing your own face off is appealing, but you'd just scare the children in the streets.

I do not like this feeling, Sam I Am.

I much prefer the feeling that you absolutely must have a chili dog. And tater tots. And a very large, very thick malted milk, like the kind you can get at Whitey's in the Quad Cities....or a Ted Drewes Concrete in St. Louis.

Yeah, I would pay for it with all sorts of aging-guy gastric distresses.....but the idea is infinitely more appealing that clawing my own face off.

I'm just really tired.

And although it may not look it, I will be appearing for the next round.

Mickey won't throw in the towel.

Ya ain't so bad, Clubber Lang.

Bring it.

I'll scare ya with my clawed-off face.


Sunday, April 10, 2011

Tangled Up In Blue

One of my favorite Dylan tunes; and I believe this was the last song I ever sang in public......

It will always remind me of a certain redhead.......but that's....another story.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Beacons Beckon.

I decided to take a different route to work tonight; the old route was just getting a little too pat, ya know?

And, as the saying goes, "it's not the destination, but the journey."

And as I was driving through the Capitol City of the Northern State, through it's reasonably quiet streets, I saw something that started me down a mental road that was much different and much more fun than the one I was on......

A porch light. A simple porch light; a beacon in the dark.

It took me to the usual places......there was always something comforting and inviting about a porch light in the depths of the Cedar forest; largely because it was a well known fact that porch lights chased away bears and pumas.

The golden light of the porch light was an indication of journey's end, in a way, and far more welcoming than any welcome mat. You could always find your way home.

Of course, if you were on a date, they were the bane of existence. Who could properly provide a hearty 'good evening' to one's date in the all-seeing light of the porch? A hearty handshake was the sentence for the timid; but fortune favors the brave, so they say.....

Susan Murphy. My first porch light. She provided a kind of psychic earthquake I felt for many years afterward. But even in those days, I had an idea of who I was, and she wanted something else. The first time I heard the, "I want you, but I need him" speech.

I heard the "I need you, but I want him" speech, as well. I was ever the opposite of what was wanted/needed. My lot.

My mind wandered all about as I traveled to the office, to places and people, all in the lovely illumination of that one porch light, with the memory of a summer breeze bringing just a hint of the aroma of rain, the crickets chirping their night-time song; the sound of the ice tinkling in the glass. The flicker of the last cigarette.

But the phrase that kept running through the event was this:

I miss you.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Punch the clock....Punch the clock right in the Nads.

I read a lot of newspapers; it's part of the job. Kinda.

I read the local paper. I read the Detroit Free Press. I read the Washington Post and the New York Times. And some smaller papers like the San Luis Obispo Tribune and the Lexington Herald-Leader. And the Lewis County Press-News Journal.

One of the articles was about a normal guy on a normal day that woke up, got dressed, went to work, and shot his co-workers.

They found him in the men's room, in a fetal position, crying like a baby.

That got me thinking. And not what you THINK I was thinking.

There will be people who will jump on the soapbox and say that it's too easy to get a gun in this country and if we can keep the lunatics from arming themselves, the country will be a safer place.....and there will be people who will blame the environment, saying, "well, that happens in Detroit (or Chicago, or New York, or Phoenix) all the time." And there will be people who will shake their heads, and change the channel or turn the page and focus on FAMILY GUY or DOONESBURY.

But the solution is far more complex, and far more simple.

The average worker in the United States works an average of 7 hours of overtime a week.

The average worker sleeps five hours a night.

20% of workers eat their lunch at their desks, working through their lunch break.

Over 41 MILLION workers didn't take vacation last year.

And people are actually working longer....into their 70's.

We have become a society of hamsters, spinning the wheel. We take no breaks, we take no time for ourselves, and we don't even sleep deeply enough to erase the daily demons from our heads.

The solution?

Joe Banks didn't kill Mr. Waturi.

He just went on an adventure.

So. Don't wait for the Brain Cloud.

Take your time.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


I'm not overly fond of musical, but this one I would do for free.

And, I needed a little lift today because the world is serving me a crap sundae.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Monday Morning Murk.

It's just passed the Soul's Midnight; 3 AM, when the body and mind crave the rest and recovery that deep sleep provides.

Sometimes, I feel like my soul has been mired in a kind of midnight for....quite....some....time.

It's hard to describe, really; a kind of itch that isn't really an itch. Perhaps it's the feeling of missing a vital part of you, but having adjusted to the loss of it, you only really feel it when you're not concentrating.

I was on my way to work this morning (read: Midnight. That's 1 AM for those of you in the Eastern Zone. 10 PM for those of you on the other side.) and flipping through the stations on my satellite; I keep some programmed, of course. The decades between 1940 and 1970 are represented, as well as a comedy station, the book station and the radio classics station.

On came the song.

Take The Long Way Home.

Now, maybe there is some kind of passive communication going on in the Universe, and maybe it's just a man zipping through the quiet streets of the Capitol City of the Northern State on his way to work desperately hoping for something to spur him on to another futile performance in this lackluster life.....but GOD I love that song.


Approaching full adulthood with all the anticipation of a child who thinks he knows what's coming. Laughing in the light of the oncoming train.

And when you're up on the stage, it's so unbelievable;
Unforgettable, how they adore you!
But then your wife seems to think you're losing your sanity...
Oh, calamity! Is there no way out?

And just when you think it's too depressing to live, they break into a clarinet/harmonica duet.....Beautiful!

Does it feel that your life's become a catastrophe?
Oh, it has to be for you to grow, boy.
When you look through the years and see what you could've been
oh, what might've been, if you'd had more time.
So, when the day comes to settle down,
Who's to blame if you're not around?
You took the long way home.....

And just like that, in the midst of the mind-quake, or walking through the mind-field, or whatever poetical reference I can give to that increasingly frequent mental upheaval, I am ready for another morning's glory.

The oncoming train provides a lovely light.
Tonight, I may be able to summon a chuckle.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Happy Birthday, Ice Cream Sundae!

Once upon a time, your humble scribe was an Ice Cream Guy.

In the village of Arroyo Grande, CA, there once was a place called Burnardoz, which was located no the west side of town. In years gone by, Burnardoz was the creme de la creme of the Ice Cream world.....but by the time I arrived on the scene, the place had been sold a couple of times, the quality was suffering, and eventually it went away.

The legend, however, remained.

In the year of '03, a fellow named Greg came onto the scene, eager to begin work on re-establishing the old parlour and the quality of Ice Cream that people remembered. He teamed with one of the original owners of Burnardoz, who gave him all the secret recipes, and he gutted the old establishment, and put in bright colors, large windows, he completely re-did the century-old floors, and ran a toy train around the entire perimeter.

Doc Burnstein's Ice Cream Lab was born.*

Soon, the place was filled with happy people, the sound of a train whistle, and the lovely fragrance of fresh waffle cones.

I joined up in June of '04; I had met Greg when he came into another place I was working at the time, and we hit it off. I saw the sign in the window, re-introduced myself, and began the career in serving and making Ice Cream.

I tell you this because today is the 119th birthday of the Sundae.

The Sundae was created, so the Legend goes, because of the Blue Laws in Illinois at the end of the 19th century. No soda water was allowed to be sold on the Sabbath, so Ice Cream sodas were illegal. So, the proprietor of the local fountain simply put the ice cream in a glass, added the syrup, put on the whipped cream, left out the soda water, and voila! Ice Cream Sundae.

Fifteen years later, in Ohio, another intrepid Ice Cream Explorer invented the Banana Split, to bring in the college students during the winter months that are traditionally difficult for the Ice Cream Industry.

One of my favorite things to do at Doc Burnstein's Ice Cream Lab was to brainstorm flavor ideas, and create a Specialty Sundae for every month.

Best Ice Cream flavor idea: S'More's Ice Cream. Marshmallow flavored ice cream with a fudge swirl AND a graham cracker swirl.

Worst Ice Cream flavor idea: Carob and Honey. But people would still buy it. We also tried a garlic Ice Cream for a festival. "Ick" doesn't really cover the revulsion.

There was really something special about creating a Sundae for folks; using that fluted glassware, adding just a touch of topping to the bottom of the glass; adding the ice cream; topping the ice cream just enough to cover, but not enough to drip off the sides; enough whipped cream to top, but NOT cover the Ice Cream (NEVER cover the Ice Cream!) and a nice even sprinkle of nuts and cherry right on top.....with just a little drizzle of topping over the top. There was a special thrill that came with getting that reaction from a patron.....that sense of awe.

And the tips were usually huge.

A large part of the Ice Cream Experience is the look of the product, after all.

Those were good times.

*if you go to the website, and navigate to the Lab Show, you'll see one of the few surviving photos of Greg and myself. I think there's also a snippet of a video there someplace, as well.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Will The Circle Be Unbroken.....

I was just listening to one of my favorite albums, a little thing called PRECIOUS FRIEND, recorded in what was once Pine Knob Theatre outside of Detroit by two Legends of the Folk World, Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie.

The old songs are the best ones, my friends.

Peter Seeger is the Father, Grandfather, Godfather, and Friendly Next-Door Neighbor of Folk Music, and without him (and Woody Guthrie, and Lee Hays and Ronnie Gilbert and Fred Hellerman) we wouldn't have Harry Chapin, or The Kingston Trio, no Bob Dylan or The Band, or even the Smothers Brothers; no Joan Baez, Tracy Chapman, Suzanne Vega; no Gordon Lightfoot, James Taylor, Bruce Cockburn, Jackson Browne, Jim Croce.

Woody Guthrie had something written on his guitar. It said, "This Machine Kills Fascists."

Pete Seeger's banjo also had a motto: "This Machine Surrounds Hate and Forces It To Surrender."

He will be 92 in May.

Live forever, Old Folkie.

And one more day after that.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Back at the desk.

My mind wanders.

I'm watching some law enforcement program; it looks like ten guys in riot gear lined up outside a door, and they all run in after some guy who's wanted. Shock and Awe.

But it reminds me of that scene from LIFE OF BRIAN, where all the members of the People's Front of Judea are hiding under tables, or behind curtains, and in tramps a Legion of Centurions.....and all they find is a spoon.

Or, that scene from THE BLUES BROTHERS, where the SWAT guys are "Hut-Hut-Hut"ing about.

It would be silly if it weren't so dangerous.

Further wanderings...

I don't like the thought of getting older; I don't like thinking about the future, when I have a present to live in. But the guy I pay to think about those things is assailing me with "Long Term Care" insurance, so more money thrown at my fictional future.

And, memories of my Mother. Which is one of the reasons I've put off the guy who I pay to think about these things for so long.....I wasn't ready.

Still not ready.

Further down the wandering....

Don't you hate it when a guy you traded away hits a game winning home run off of the guy you traded him for?

Yeah. Me, too.

F***ing Yankees.


Don't you hate it when a team out of playoff contention comes into your arena and scores 5 goals in the 20 minute second period to make your guys look like sissies?

Yeah. Me, too.

F***ing St. Louis Blues.


How long has it been since I saw anything creative that really inspired me to do something that aims at greatness?

Too long, I fear.

I wonder if I would really recognize it if it came along.

But secretly, I wish for it every day, and pray for it every night.

Talk to you soon.