It's the true loves that make me want to cry, it's the true loves that make me want to say goodbye

The new year approaches as this one turns to dust, as everything within the scope of perception must, so let's get crackin' on these awards which, by all accounts, meaning my own, have been transcendent.

Favorite album

I heard a lot of great ones this year, but Rufus Wainwright's All Days Are Nights was my favorite. It was a total surprise when I came upon this album at the store. I hadn't realized he had a new one out, which is odd because he's one of the few artists whose actions, musically speaking, I pay close attention to. I grabbed the CD in rapid, almost nervous, fashion, as if it would flee from my grip the instant I made contact, never to return. I almost said "Keep the change" to the cashier as I checked out, so eager I was to listen to what I was confident was going to be in heavy rotation the next month or so.

Stripped down to just piano and vocals, All Days Are Nights is a beautiful, oft mournful and intimate, album. When people hear my music, they often compare it to Nick Drake or Elliot Smith, but hardly anyone ever mentions Rufus as being a likely influence of mine. Well, he's a big one and, ever since his debut, which blew my mind quite thoroughly, thank you very much, I've been a devotee. He has the best sense of melody since Harry Nilsson or Paul McCartney. He is the most accomplished songwriter of his generation. "True Loves", from the new album, is one of the best songs I've ever heard, but I only say that because it's playing right now. Almost every song of his is the best song I ever heard. Ok, Sonnet 43 is playing now, and I have to say it's one of the best songs I've ever heard. Seriously, and I'm not afraid to admit this, tears have formed over how sublime this song is.

Runners up:

Maddy Prior and June Tabor - Silly Sisters. I love this album so much. These two titans of English folk are wondrous apart, but together.....Oh, my! "The Grey Funnel Line" is as sublime as any song by Rufus.

Dick Gaughan - Live In Edinburgh. I had never heard of him before until Mara gave me this CD. An incredible performance, full of passion, great singing, and guitar playing. I hear he was a Communist, which makes sense given the scattering of worker songs throughout. I may just convert - he really sold it. "Now Westlin Winds" , is beautifully rendered.

Fairport Convention - Full House. As you can see, I've been listening to a lot of from Great Britain (Mr. Gaughan is a Scot). You know why? Because I like it, that's why! Full House is the first Fairport album after Sandy Denny's departure, which is the equivalent of Robert Plant leaving Led Zeppelin (In fact Sandy was the only guest vocalist the band ever had on their albums). As a result, the album is more muscular and punchy. Dave Swarbrick sings more, along with Richard Thompson, and everyone brings the ruckus. As much as I love Sandy Denny's vocals, this is probably my favorite album by them. I think I sang along to "Sir Patrick Spense" around two hundred times over the last month or two.

Richard & Linda Thompson - Ok, one more trip to England. I've been listening to just about everything they released for awhile now and I can't believe it's taken me this long to dive into their output.

Sufjan Stevens - The Age of AdZ. He really stepped up his game with this one. Symphonic, electronic, organic, and epic, this is a fine piece of work.

Deer Hoof - It took me a few years to come back around to them, but come around I did. I hear Can, Captain Beefheart, The Ramones, Frank Zappa, The Beach Boys, in their music. Mostly, though, I hear Deerhoof, and, what can I say, I love 'em.

Bob Dylan - Desire. This could be my favorite Dylan record. I love everything about it, from the reverb -soaked drums to the short story-length lyrics. I love his singing on this - his duets with Emmylou Harris are as good as you're going to hear.

Here's the deal: I could keep going with this runners up list, so I'm going to call it quits and go watch John From Cincinnati. It's possible I may catch up on some 30 Rock, too. See you next time for some more awards. Yippppeeeeee!!

Best Show

You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss

I woke up around two thirty this morning to the dim sight of Baby Boy Z hovering over me, staring intently. Surprisingly, I wasn't startled. I muttered a half-formed question concerning why he was being a weirdo. He bent close, licked my face, and lay back down to sleep. Oh, Pooch Edward, you so craz-aaay!

Alright, let's dole out some awards since it's that time of year. I was thinking of what to call said awards and concluded after giving it minimal thought that they'll be called The Spideys. Lame, huh? You bet, but I couldn't think of anything better, which tells you all you need to know about me.

Let's begin.


The "Summertime And The Living Is (Not So) Easy" award

While everyone else was vacationing in the Hamptons or frolicking on the beach somewhere, I was a regular at my dentist's office this summer. I haven't figured out how many appointments I had, but there were a lot. Bridge work, fillings, root canals, you name it: I had the full dental experience.

"Best Movie Experience" award

I saw a lot of great films this year, but the best was Kobayashi's Human Condition trilogy. This sprawling account of a pacifist's experience as a soldier in World War II era Japan floored me. It stuck with me long after I took the disc out of the player. You want epic? This is epic, son. This nine hour film is easily one of the best I've ever seen. On, and every Kobayashi film I saw this year absolutely rocked my world. So there.

Runners up:

My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done - Herzog at his best. Looooovveed this movie.

The White Ribbon - A quiet, beautifully filmed, account of evil bubbling to the surface in a small village. Haunting.

Army of Shadows - Melville's gripping tale of the French Resistance in Nazi-occupied France. I didn't expect I'd like it as much as I did, but it was rad. That's right, I said rad.

Inception - I'll be honest with you, I saw this movie three times over the summer and I'm still not completely sure how I feel about it. That's the point, I guess. It's layered beyond measure and begs for repeat viewings. Oh, and DeCaprio rocks in this.

Come And See - Very intense, poetic, brutal, anti war film. Most war films glorify war to some degree, but this one does not. No, sir, it does. We follow a young boy through Russia as he witnesses the carnage of the Nazi's (Again with the Nazi's. Guess I was into Nazi films this year)

"Worst Movie Experience"

The Blind Side. Holy shit, did I hate this movie. I kept hearing how amazing it was. I gave it a chance and could barely sit through it. I ended up fast forwarding a bunch near the end. I've seen way better made-for-TV movies. And Sandra Bullock won an Oscar for her role in this? Look, I'm not a big fan of award shows (except mine, of course) because it's all subjective. Who's to say what's best? With that said, I think it's a travesty that she won an Oscar. Her role was so awkward and annoying. An Oscar? Really? I think she's a fine actress, but c'mon. Anyway, The Blindside sucked.

Summertime And The Living Is (Not So) Easy, Part II" award

In the middle of July, I was inflicted with a stomach bug that really, really stunk. I was out of commission for days and needed a week to recuperate. I never get sick in the summer. Well, I put an end to that trend, didn't I?

"Did Dexter Jump The Shark?" award

This season of Dexter was pretty good. It didn't stink, but it wasn't nearly as gripping as past seasons. After watching the finale, I was left feeling a bit unsatisfied. Oh, well, there's always next season.

"Best Sports Event" award

This one is a tie between the Celtics performance in the playoffs (sadly, they fell to the Lakers in a gripping game seven of the finals) and the World Cup. For a period, I'd come home every night to a Celtics game or a soccer match. It was great, I tell ya! And those vuvuzelas? Love them! Janelle and I were nearly ostracized from our circle of friends for finding them appealing, but we stuck to our guns.

Runner up: The Bruins playoff run. They blew a three game lead to the Flyers, which was as close to an unpardonable sin as you're going to get, but they still had some fine games. Ah, there's always this year.

Ok, I'm done for now. Stay tuned for some more awards in my next post.

Looking for a lover to court and spark

Had a long weekend, but it wasn't as relaxing as I would have preferred. Sunday, the blizzard that, according to the local meteorologists, was going to rip our souls limb from limb, asserted itself mid afternoon. I was dressed down, fooling around on the new computer with Pooch Edward Bottoms by my side. I looked out the window - it was becoming nasty outside. I took comfort in the knowledge that I was in for the day. The feeling didn't last long.

I received back to back texts from Spira and Mara alerting me to the city's parking ban, which stated that all vehicles needed to be parked on the side of the street that had odd numbered houses. After a burst of panic, I realized my car was positioned in a safe place and I had nothing to worry about. But then I remembered that Aviv and Janelle, living it up in Israel, had left their cars behind. If I didn't move them, they were going to be ticketed and then towed. There was nothing for it but to get dressed and move their cars.

Not an easy task. First of all, it was late afternoon by this point and everyone had moved their cars already. Finding spots for two cars was not going to be a cake walk. And then I discovered that their cars were standards. I hadn't driven stick since my early twenties; what better time to get a refresher course than in the middle of a blizzard, driving around city streets searching for parking.

I cleaned off Aviv's car and searched for parking while I stalled out a couple of times and got beeped at by panicky motorists also ostensibly looking for spots. Spira had told me I could park at the school by my house, but the gates were closed. I finally found a spot about a half mile away. I quickly parked and jogged back to the house. Time was of the essence. They were about to start ticketing and the roads, already slick, were rapidly becoming worse.

I cleaned off Janelle's car and drove around for the second time. I wasn't thrilled at the position I was in, but there was nothing else I could do. I finally found a spot after driving around for what seemed like forever. I walked back to the house with a feeling of relief that was outweighed by the stress of what I had just gone through.

Monday. In the morning, I took Pooch Edward for a walk to the cars to see how they fared. Each was buried, like every other car, by the force of the blizzard. During the walk, I lost a new pair of gloves that my boss had gotten me. You win some and you lose some. For example, I was given a nice Christmas present by the city on Christmas Eve: a shiny new $100.00 parking ticket for parking near a fire hydrant that everyone parks by. In keeping with the holidays (I got a parking ticket on Thanksgiving, too ), I'm hoping to round out the trilogy and get a whopping ticket on New Years Eve. Here's hoping. Anyway, I digress.

Later in the day on Monday, I shoveled out my car and cleaned it off. Then I took a walk with shovel and snow brush and did the same to Janelle's and Aviv's cars. I had the foresight earlier, while I was cleaning my car, to back it up a bit so that it occupied two spaces. My plan was to move Aviv's car behind mine after I moved it back into its spot. See, he doesn't have a permit, so his car needs to be moved every forty eight hours or he'll get a ticket. So, I moved his car behind mine, but I'll have to move it again. I think it's fair to say they owe me big for all this.

When I finished with the parking, I went inside and prepared my dinner. I put Pooch Edward out in the yard. When I went to retrieve him, he was standing in the driveway, pissing on Janelle's junk car. Hmm... must have left the gate open, I thought.

Same scenario tonight. I'm making dinner, Z's out in the yard. All of a sudden I hear him barking, which is something he loves to do when he's out in the yard. Hate to say it, but he becomes a bit of a prick, terrorizing passers by. Anyway, I hear him barking and when I look out the window, I see that he's barking at a girl walking by and he's eye level with her. It took me a minute to realize that he was standing on a snow bank that reached the height of the fence. Needless to say, he scared the shit out of this poor girl. He looked ready to pounce on her before I banged on the window and got his attention. I went out in the yard and got him. So that's how he got out yesterday. Not his fault and kind of funny. Guess I have some more shoveling ahead of me.
--
My neighbor, Steve, who is deeply obsessed with snow removal, was in his element throughout the course of the storm and it's aftermath. By my count, he was outside either shoveling or using the snow blower almost the entire night Sunday and all day yesterday. I am not exaggerating. All fricken' day! Not my idea of a fun time, but to each his own.

And with that, I'm done with this post. It's the end of the year and you know what that means: my annual year end awards. I was going to start the proceedings here, but it'll have to wait to my next post. Now you have something to look forward to.

Tiny hoofies bend, oh bend bonny

My long, protracted battle with my computer saw its end last week. Most certainly, the victor was not me. No, my computer, or rather the enemy host that infected it, finally made it so that my ability to use it became virtually impossible. I'll spare you the details of the insidious ways in which it accomplished this. I fought tooth and nail to the end, spent a lot of time being surgeon, but I couldn't stem the tide.

Janelle and Aviv left for Israel the other day. In her absence, Janelle graciously offered me the use of her computer. Up until yesterday, Christmas day, I took her up on her offer. I had partly expected and hoped that the gods of Christmas, who we've diluted into the image of Santa Claus, but in this instance I'm referring to my parents, would assess my hardship and take appropriate, logical, measures. In other words, come to my rescue.

They did, thank goodness, and I when I came home last night, I immediately set about dismantling the old, ravaged, computer, and installed the new one. My parents saved the day, something they've done for me in countless ways my entire life. I am grateful.

I'm loving the new computer, with its ease of use and much bigger monitor. I downloaded iTunes and have been ripping CD's onto it. Listening to Deerhoof as I type.

Christmas was fulfilling. I did the bulk of my shopping on Thursday and felt satisfied that I picked out thoughtful, appropriate, gifts. When I showed up at my parent's house in the morning, it was with confidence that my relatives would appreciate their gifts. They did. Score one for the K Man!

The gift that went over the best was the toy cell phone I got for my five year old niece, Colleen. I knew my sister and brother in law were getting cell phones for her older sisters and I didn't want her to feel left out. Plus, Colleen is a chatterbox, so I figured she'd get some use out of a phone.

From my parent's house, we went to my grandmother's , where we met up with my aunt and uncle and cousins. Sitting in the living room, I reminisced about past Christmases I had spent there (All of them, in fact. Since I was born, a Christmas has not gone by that I didn't spend there). Lots of kids around; for a while it was just adults, but then there was a boom of children. I'm not complaining; they're fun to be around.

Today the snow will hit. A big storm, I hear. I'm glad I don't have to work tomorrow. It's just me and Pooch Edward Bottoms. Which reminds me, I should go see what he's up to. Don't want him to get lonely. I'll be watching Red Beard at some point. Late last night I watched the Harry Nilsson biography on the computer. It was awesome, as I expected it would be. One of the best songwriters that ever lived. And his voice? If I could sing half as good as him, I'd be in good shape.

Ok, bye.

Well, I hope that someday buddy, we have peace in our lives, together or apart, alone, or with our wives

Christmas fast approaches. Are you ready, those of you who partake? Have you bought and wrapped all of the gifts you'll be handing out? Are you counting down the days to Saturday with ease and comfort, satisfied the grunt work is behind you and all you need focus on are the good times you hope you'll have? As for me, procrastination is in my blood as much as anything else. I expect I'll be shopping right up until Christmas. Maybe not, though. There are still a few days left and it's conceivable I might overachieve and have all my shopping done with a couple of days to spare. We'll see.
--

Years ago, I worked at a tool wholesaler warehouse in Lowell in a dilapidated building. This place occupied the lower depths of existence. I stayed there too long, but I came out the other end of my experience there with some pretty good stories. Almost every person I worked with was memorable, for better or worse. The job was shitty overall, but the host of characters I was exposed to made it worth it. As time goes by, with my work experience having become more ordered and civilized, I look back upon those days more fondly than I ever thought I would.

Here's one story among many. It will give you an indication of what I was dealing with at this job. One day, my boss Thom came over to me and told me John, my coworker, wasn't coming in to work. He looked distressed, so I asked him if everything was alright.

"I just got off the phone with John's father. John was in a terrible car accident this morning and is fighting for his life as we speak."

I studied Thom's face. He was a notorious liar and was not above lying about something as awful as this. Still, he looked sincere. I found it hard to believe that he would joke around about something like this. But then again, maybe he would. I asked him if he was joking with me.

"I'm as serious as a heart attack!", he said. "Do you think I'd joke about something like this?"

"I do. Just two weeks ago, you told a sales rep that Nick died in a car accident (Nick was at lunch when the rep came by. I was there when Thom told her, in all seriousness, that Nick crashed into a Hostess truck. Nick was overweight and the joke, as poor as it was, would have been evident if Thom hadn't affected such a grave countenance. The rep, a kind woman in her thirties, had been friendly with Nick and was visibly shaken by the news. I waited for Thom to tell her the truth. He never did. She left, muttering something about wishing she'd known so she could have attended the funeral).

"Oh, I was just fucking around; she knew it was a joke."

"No she didn't."

Thom got in my face and said loudly, "I'm being serious. John's probably not going to make it." His eyes welled up with tears, but I was still uncertain whether he was being truthful. I was about eighty percent sure he was lying. Aside from Thom's incriminating history of pulling morbid pranks, it seemed odd to me that while John was fighting for his life, his father decides he better call his son's boss and let him know what was going on. I questioned Thom about this and he became furious.

"Look, you can believe what you want, but this boy is in bad shape and I'm worried about him. Don't ask me again if I'm lying!"

If Thom was lying, he was certainly putting his all into the ruse. For the next hour or so, I began to believe that Thom had told the truth about John. I was still doubtful, but I had done what I could to get Thom to break and he never budged. I began to worry over my fallen coworker. I thought about the fragility of life.

It was deep in this reverie when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw John appear. My feelings were conflicted. On the one hand, I felt great relief that my friend was in good health and on the other I wanted to strangle Thom. I let him know how pissed off I was at him, how twisted he must be to think that his practical joke was even slightly humorous. He laughed in the face of my outrage and suggested I lighten up a bit. It was then that I knew for sure that this kind, grandfatherly, figure, was a sociopath.

The end.

Ok, I'm off to work on some music and at some point I'll watch one of the segments from The Power of Myth. If you ever get a chance to, watch this fine series of interviews with Joseph Campbell conducted by Bill Moyers. If nothing else, it'll make you feel a wee bit smarter.

I'm the one, natural one

I don't watch the weather reports, but from what I was told by numerous people and from what I could see with my own eyes, the devastating snow storm we were supposed to be buried by, missed us. For most of the day, not a flake of snow was evident. Around one thirty, it started snowing, but only a little, as if it were an after thought. By the time I drove to the Registry of Deeds in Lawrence, which was around two thirty, the ground was covered and it looked like something substantial was in the works.

The drive was slow, but manageable. When I got back to work, the snow had abated. Marcy told me we were only supposed to get a dusting. Well, it's almost eight and the snow is coming down hard, son! I'm glad my commute home was prior to the mess that's out there now. Granted, it's not a blizzard, but what I see out there is not what was advertised. At least to me. Again, I don't watch the weather, so this could be exactly what was forecast for all I know.

I went for a run after work. I like running on snow, so it was a good run, despite the last few miles taking place in snow that was asserting itself mightily. After supper, I walked over to the laundromat through the wind and, you guessed it, snow. For the record, I dislike winter more and more every year. It's not so much the snow, but the overall bleakness. Someday I will move to warmer climes. I say that every winter.
--
Earlier today, I asked Therese where she was spending Christmas. Here's a sampling of her response, which took about ten minutes to complete. Actually, let's refrain from that. I couldn't bear reliving even a portion of her diatribe. Just know that she covered her job history, which I've heard many, many times, and I'm willing to bet I could draft a resume for her from memory. She also told me about her brother's leather jacket that she still owns after all these years and her husband wears occasionally, her dislike of her son's girlfriend, her husband's job, and a bunch of other stuff that had little bearing on the question in hand. I'm fond of Therese, but I wouldn't mind it if she took the direct route now and again.
--
This past Friday was Spira's first movie night at her place. She just bought a colossal HD TV and decided movie night was one way to put it to good use. We had a meal of left overs from her party the week before and we- and by we I mean Allie, Hian, Spira, and myself - watched Frosty, The Snowman, which just happened to be on, and It's A Wonderful Life, which Allie and I lobbied for. Spira and Hian had never seen it; we thought it was time they were exposed to this classic.

I hadn't seen Frosty in years and suspected it would feel dated. I was wrong - it held up well. Glad I saw it. And you know what else? I'm out of here. The phone is a-ringin' and I need to answer it. Aloha.

And two eyes made out of coal

If I hear another Christmas song on the radio, I think I might dunk my head in a bucket of burning pitch. At work, once Thanksgiving is through, the radio station in my office is changed to one that plays only Christmas music. I probably covered this before, but hearing the same music every day, multiple times a day, is maddening. Even if I was filled to the brim with joyous Christmas spirit, this incessant barrage of songs would puke it right out of me. A little goes a long way. Know what I'm saying? From what I gather, no one in the room likes it, but for whatever reason, no one will change the station. I'll get through it. I guess it's not so bad hearing Feliz Navidad or I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus at least three times a day. I guess.

Anyway, speaking of Christmas spirit, let's try to salvage some. I do believe I pledged in my last post to revisit the Christmas specials of my youth, so let's proceed. As I go, I will only relate what my memory allows; I will not cheat and use the Internet to refresh it where necessary. The following list, therefore, should not be seen as comprehensive - there may be omissions - nor will it be presented in order of preference. In other words, I'm winging it and we'll see how it fleshes out.

The Year Without A Santa Claus

I barely remember this special because some religious group got it banned from TV throughout most of my youth. If I remember correctly, said group took issue with Mr. Heatmiser. Guess they thought he was the Devil or something. Anyway, because it was unavailable, it became like the Holy Grail to us kids. We used to speak in fond reminiscence about it. I should watch it sometime. It's been years.

Frosty The Snowman

Ah, this was a good one. I haven't seen it since I was a kid, but I used to love it. Do I remember correctly that every time Frosty came to life he said, "Happy Birthday" in a kind of dopey voice? I think he did. And was that Fred Astaire who narrated the show? Wasn't he a mailman or an engineer? Anyway, this special touched me. I think I even cried during it, you know, when things looked bad for Frosty.

Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer

The gold standard. Man, those Rankin/Bass specials used to produce. An indication of how great they were is that they're still broadcasting them. By today's standards, the effects are primitive, but I'll take 'em over the sterile CG I see so much of these days. Back to Rudolph.

Great story, and even better for having The Abominable Snowman in it. And that Yukon Cornelius was damn cool, too. This was an adventure Homer would have been proud of. Tons of action peppered with humor and romance. And the Christmas spirit shined down on the whole thing. This one is the best of the best.

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Put one foot in front of the other, and soon you'll be walking out that door. This was one of my favorites. I've probably seen this one more than any other. The Burgermeister Meister Burger was a great character. So was the Winter Warlock. And that penguin.....I forget his name. Rankin/Bass brought the ruckus once again. Wait a minute. Was this the one with Fred Astaire as the mailman or engineer or whatever? Hmmm... I should know, I just watched this when it was on a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, like I said, this was one of my favorites.

Twas The Night Before Christmas

I used to like this one quite a bit, even though it was animated and not produced by Rankin/Bass. I remember it centered on a family of mice and one of the kids, a really nerdy sort, screwed up the clock (?)- my memory is hazier than it should be with this- and, as a result, Santa Claus wouldn't be able to come. I remember liking at least one of the songs. Fivel(sp)? Was that his name? Oh, I don't know. Let's move on.

Charlie Brown's Christmas

Was that even what it was called? Anyway, I'm close, whatever it is. Another classic with a hip jazzy score. One of the songs, with the chorus of kids singing, always effects me in a deep place. I always seem to miss this one when it's on; this year, I caught the very end. At least I got to see the sorry little tree.

Ok, my computer is being a pain and running too slow. With that, I'll have to finish this up before things get FUBAR.

Find a place to call my own, and try to fix up, start a brand new day

While it won't go down as one of my most epochal, the weekend went well. Spira's Christmas party was on Saturday. Lots of good food - most everyone made a dish - and there was some alcohol flowing. Not all of it down my gullet, mind you, but I imbibed enough to make me more charming and dynamic. Alas, not enough to get me laid, but at least once a woman brushed my shoulder as she walked by. I vowed never to wash that shoulder ever again. And I won't.

Mary was there. We don't hang out as much these days, but it was gratifying seeing her. Mary is Foley's sister and we've known each other for a long time and have always had an easy way between us. Foley had wanted to pair us up back in the day, but for whatever reason it never happened. When Mary left the party, Pam came over to me and said, "I think she really likes you". I explained that Mary is happily married, but Pam held to her observation. "Even still, I think she really likes you." I'm not sure Pam had it right, but even if she did, what then? Best not dwell on it.

Spira did a great job with the party. I like seeing her happy and happy she was. And Missy the dog looked adorable (Is it allowed for a pure-hearted, masculine, heterosexual male to use the word adorable in any context? Hmmm....). She received plenty of attention in her poofy green, bell-bedecked, collar thingy (I know there's a name for it, but I'm too dull-witted presently to conjure it). If only Baby Boy Z was there in the smoking jacket I often picture him wearing. He would have been the belle of the ball instead of me.

Craig and Karen crashed at our place after the party. Karen was a little worse for wear and needed to be helped on to the futon. Craig and I stayed up talking until four thirty. I fell asleep immediately upon hitting the bed. I woke up around eleven thirty pleased that everyone was still around. Janelle made a delicious omelet for breakfast. Nice having a full house.

In one of our conversations, Craig said something to the effect of having had more of a religious experience staring at the Sun through the trees in the woods behind his house than he ever did going to church as a youth. Good stuff. I don't think Craig has studied Taoism much, but he summed it up pretty well.

And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.
--
Over time, I have been left with little or no Christmas spirit. It happens, I know, as one gets older, but I think it's too bad. When I was growing up, the Christmas season was a sacred time. I used to start getting geared up for it well before Thanksgiving. I'd scour the television for anything Christmas related. This was not such a simple task in early November, but I always found enough to get me excited. For whatever reason, "Yogi Bear's First Christmas" would be one of the first shows to air. It wasn't one of my favorites, but it holds a special place because of the function it served: like a robin sighting marks the first sign of spring, this program started the Christmas season off.

I'm of a mind to revisit the Christmas specials of my youth, but I've got other things I want to do. Maybe in my next post. Yes, my next post. See you then.

How can I go forward when I don't know which way I'm facing

I am tired. I went for a run after work in the frigid air and darkness. I was appropriately garbed, but it was an uncomfortable experience and I was pleased when it was through. On a side note: my calves hurt; they never do after a run. Oh, well, these things happen.

This will be a short post. I know I always say that and end up reneging on the claim, but this time I mean to be congruent. It's getting late and I've matters to attend to, most of which would bore the life right out of you. For one thing, there's some pending Bigfoot footage being uploaded tonight that I want to see. It'll be in Hi-def, so whatever it is will be vividly rendered. And I want to work on some music, read from Billy Budd (my re-read of Jordan's Wheel of Time series has been put on hold), and watch some Deadwood. I love this show so much, I would kill my parents if it told me to. Seriously, I would.

John Lennon died thirty years ago today. He preached peace, unity, and love, only to be assassinated for it. They do it to them all-Jesus, Gandhi, MLK- because the potency of their message cannot be tolerated in a world governed by violence. Who since Lennon has fervently preached peace as not just a concept, but something achievable? We consider ourselves advanced, but we're still up to the same bullshit in this world. Violence begets violence; division begets division. Let's give peace a chance.

Oh, I was supposed to be brief with this post. Alright, I'm out of here.

Five to one, one in five, no one here gets out alive

I am like Lazarus risen. Perhaps that is a little strong; rather, just these last couple of hours, I've been feeling better, at least in the physical sense. And maybe, too, in the spiritual sense, though I suspect that affliction may take a bit longer to heal, if it does at all. One thing at a time. The cold I caught last week that, up until today, seemed to be gaining steam in breaking me down, has loosened its hold on me. Whether I'm out of the woods, I'm not sure, but I do feel better, and at this stage, when not much has felt good to me, I'll take any reason to celebrate, no matter how small.

I'm going to make this post short. I'm in the process of determining how I should approach this blog henceforth. On the one hand, it has served as a vehicle, when necessary, to vent whatever it is I've kept to myself that needs to get out lest I blow. In this regard, the blog has served as an elixir when no other has been found or offered. On the other hand, there are my readers to consider, some of whom are friends, current and former. While this is my house you are entering when you read this blog, and if you disagree with the way in which I conduct myself herein, you can step back outside, hopefully with the understanding that you weren't coerced into entering in the first place, I do feel, on occasion that I'm showing my hand too often to some that would rather I didn't at all (There is also the opposite to consider, that people love watching a train wreck and mine offer the right sustenance, i.e. keep 'em coming, kid, and don't spare a single detail in these accounts of your decline).

In other words, I'm making things known that I'd be better served keeping close to the vest. After learning the hard way not to expect too much from my friendships, particularly the close ones, I've been in the practice of keeping my mouth shut when it comes to personal issues. The question is, should I extend that policy to my blog? I don't know, and I'm not even sure I have should have this policy of withholding in place at all. Ideally, I would prefer open dialog between myself and certain others, enough so that I didn't feel I was being a burden. I don't say this with any venom, but I do with some regret and frustration. Things turn out how they turn out and I've adjusted, am adjusting. There are several factors involved that have caused this outcome; this is not an indictment of my friendships, only a lament that things couldn't be different.

This professed short post has found it's legs. Better I hobble it before it gets ahead of me. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, this has been one of the hardest times of my life. A confluence of shitty things has been visited upon my sorry ass and it's been taxing. My dark night of the soul? I feel as if I've a few already, but if I had to pick one, this would be it. Dark days, like a bitter cold, have penetrated through my layers all the way to my spirit. Ah, but as I said above, I've been feeling a bit more hale and that is a good step on the staircase of getting right.
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It hasn't been all terrible. It never truly is, I suppose. There has been the wonderful Deadwood on DVD to keep me company. The best written show I've ever seen. There has been Melville's Billy Budd, which just for the language alone, has been a treat, despite its tangential nature. There has been an increased intimacy and evolution regarding my music. There was Mara's brunch yesterday, which turned out differently, and perhaps better, than I anticipated.

Being as just about everyone she invited didn't show up for one reason or another, it was a cozy affair between Mara, her friend Dave, and myself. Dave is an older gent who, in his capacity as a DJ at a college radio station, has been a luminary in the local folk scene for decades. Mara used to work with him and, consequently, ended up with boxes of cds that she's had no use for. She brought them out yesterday for Dave and me to peruse. I found a Richard and Linda Thompson cd I'd been wanting and a few others. The rest that I took with me were recommendations by Dave and Mara.

I haven't listened to most of the cd's yet. There have been three I've had in heavy rotation. One by Archie Fisher, another by Dick Gaughan, and the third by the french traditionalist, Gabriel Yaub. Quality stuff and quite educational. The Dick Gaughan cd is a live one recorded in Edinburgh and the performance, just voice and guitar, is flawless. And this cat ain't strumming chords like Pete Seeger, no he's doing some complex stuff under those vocals. And the vocals - the phrasing and every other aspect - is so well done. These assessments hold true for each artist and it's why I've found listening to them educational. Beautiful stuff, the folk traditions of Europe.

So not all sour, but I'm crossing my fingers. At the end of the day, I don't want the doldrums to get the better of me. I want to rebound and start enjoying my life, an act, I say with sadness, I've more and more begun seeing as something as impossible as giving birth to a baby. Ah, but I've got some fight in me and if I'm to fall, it won't be done whimpering.

Leigh, I want to thank you for your kind words and support. I read them when I felt at my lowest and they perked me up. You are a sweet one and served as an angel on my shoulder.

Ha!

Just came across this from The Onion. The Universe has a great sense of humor, me thinks. Okay, you got me. I'll lighten up.

Universe Admits To Wronging Area Man His Entire Life

'Dave's Got A Right To Be Angry,' Says Cosmos

MINNEAPOLIS—Following decades of allegations from the 44-year-old data processor, the vast conglomeration of all matter and energy known as the universe admitted Tuesday that it was directly responsible for every single hardship in the life of Dave Schwartz, and apologized for continually foiling him at every turn.

The cosmos admits it could have given Schwartz good organizational skills but deliberately chose not to.

"Dave has good reason to say the universe is conspiring against him, because, well, it is," said the cosmos, acknowledging that it has thwarted Schwartz's hopes and dreams from the moment of his conception. "He may sound melodramatic when he goes on and on about the whole world having turned against him, but he's actually not that far off. The forces of time and nature genuinely want him to fail at life, and fail hard."

"So, yes, his anger and frustration are totally understandable," the universe added. "Pointless and futile, but totally understandable."

Sources close to Schwartz have long speculated that his failure to find success in work, love, and life stemmed from his own poor decisions and lack of resolve, but the very source of all causality verified Tuesday that, just as Schwartz has always claimed, the blame for each misstep and unfortunate circumstance rests squarely on the cosmos's shoulders.

Using the metaphysical concepts of blind chance and cosmic predetermination, as well as other powers beyond human comprehension, the universe claimed to have "done its best" to increase the earthly burden on Schwartz, carefully engineering everything from his difficulty concentrating for more than five minutes, to his receding hairline, to the time he threw up on the playground after eating a whole bag of candy.

"We've pretty much been riding Dave's ass from day one," confirmed the eternal concept of fate, which Schwartz has specifically, and accurately, blamed over the years for his inability to find a decent parking spot anywhere, ever. "Like that time he was dating the perfect woman and we introduced him to Deborah, who lured him away from the love of his life and proceeded to make his next two years a psychosexual nightmare of neediness and betrayal. That was all us."

"Oh, yeah, and then we rigged it so she dumped him," added fate, chuckling. "By the way, Deborah's doing great now. Rich husband, two beautiful kids, house on Martha's Vineyard—we set her up real nice."

According to the universe, it has for more than four decades enjoyed "torturing" Dave by presenting him with desirable life options—such as that big promotion at work, or the fantastic deal on that 1998 Mazda Miata—and then placing them just far enough out of his reach that they remain unattainable.

In addition, numerous ethereal essences and karmic forces stepped forward this week to come clean about "really piling it on" during periods of Schwartz's life when he already had enough on his plate and couldn't be expected to take much more cosmic punishment without snapping.

"Back in '02, we purposefully made enough things go right for Dave that he actually managed to convince himself that fate didn't exist and that the universe was a hopeful place full of limitless possibilities, all of which could be his as long as he believed in himself and maintained a positive outlook," the universe said. "Two days later—boom—we slam him with an IRS audit and some back pain."

"Totally threw him for a loop," added the whole of all existence. "He literally looked up at us and asked us, 'Why? Why are you doing this to me?'"

When questioned Tuesday as to the motive for its actions against Schwartz, the universe told reporters that it had no good answer except to speculate that perhaps its essential nature was simply "cruel and meaningless or something."

At press time, Dave Schwartz was stuck in a traffic jam with severe indigestion