With a tongue like a cow, she could make you go wow

Today wasn't a bad day, but I wasn't master of my domain as far as my thoughts were concerned. Now that I think of it, though, I didn't let them spiral out of control and I did garner some insight into how my world is framed. So, things could have been worse. But they could have been better. We'll try again tomorrow. That's all you can do in this life.

Well, Doc has left for the Clippers and here comes the doldrums of rebuilding. KG could be next. Or Pierce. Or both. Probably both. It was a good run. I didn't watch a single game last season but I still kept up with the team. I wonder how much attention I'll pay in the next couple of years. A bummer, Doc leaving. One of my favorite coaches.

I'm too lazy to figure out the math right now, but I'm pretty sure I've been a non smoker for at least seven years. I like that I can't easily remember how long it's been. Cigarettes are not a part of my life anymore. I used to say that I enjoyed smoking right up to the end, but after giving it some thought, I don't think that's true. How could I enjoy being held prisoner? How could I enjoy the loose coughing in the morning, my smoky clothes, and knowing that every puff was a self-inflicted wound? What did it say about my feelings of self worth that I would poison myself about once an hour every day of my life? Enjoyable? No, not really.I'm so glad I got that satanic monkey off my back.

And now it's time to get you off my back. I'm feeling rather unproductive tonight, which I'm allowing. I've been more or less on the go for the last several days. Unproductive works tonight.

I just talked to Jesus, he said "What up, Yeesus?"

Evangeline had a party here last night but I missed it. It's okay - I'm sure it was fun - but it didn't seem as if it was going to be my vibe so I made myself scarce. I ended up going out for Greek food with Spira, Jonathan and Viboo. The meal and the company were exceptional. Jonathan and Viboo (I'm sure I'm spelling his name wrong) are fun to be around and are a great couple.  Most of the meal was spent laughing.

Afterward, Spira and I headed back to our place and met up with Craig. Always nice hanging out with two of my favorite people. Along with Missy D, we hung out on a grassy hill top in the park behind Spira's condo and watched the inflated, almost Super Moon. Nice breeze, clear skies - a lovely night to hang outside.

I crashed at Spira's. I stayed up really late and woke up early. I'm surprised. I had spent most of Saturday landscaping at my grandmother's house and before that, I practiced yoga. I was fairly spent by the time I arrived at Spira's. So, yeah, I stayed up late (I watched The Avengers until about two in the morning and then listened to a John Keel lecture about the Men In Black phenomenon until three-ish) which explains why today has been a lazy day.

Alright, I'm thinking about working on some songs and wondering if Close Encounters of The Third Kind will be on the docket for tonight's festivities. Sure, why not?

Peace, my brothers and sisters.

I'm so tired of crawling but I'm out on the road again

High five to me! My morning and evening commutes were riddled with rain and traffic and I maintained an even, calm, and alert demeanor throughout. There were no vocal outbursts ("Oh, great! Here we go again. Too many people in the world!"), there was no tension. Man, I am proud of myself. Sounds like I'm joking, but I am not. If you drive, you know it ain't easy to be cool as ice.

I've been practicing new techniques at guiding my thoughts, steering them closer to the positive and resourceful and away from negativity and fear and yuck. It really is true that when you change the way you look at something, what you look at changes (I paraphrase the great Wayne Dyer). We stress the negative too often in our culture and it hasn't been a quick process shedding it all from my being. That's ok, these things can take time.

I realized I lacked congruity in my thoughts. If something good happened, I'd be pleased, but then I'd wait for something bad to happen. I was not born with that mentality. Got to shed all that accrued nonsense. Anyway, stuff like that has been going on with me. What else? Oh, I hardly ever snack anymore; pretty much the only food intake has been from meals. I'm okay with this development. It's gone well with the more challenging and sometimes near-ecstatic yoga sessions. Next time you see me, I might be as toned and flexible as a pretzel that works out and is not a pretzel but human, like me.

Had an interesting law of attraction experience the other day while walking through the Fells with Spira and everyone's favorite greyhound, Missy D, but I'm not sure I should discuss it. Anyway, if it pans out, it will be a fucking cool story to tell.

All is bliss.....all is bliss.

Alright, I'll talk to y'all later. But first I'll leave you with a joke.

What's E.T. short for?

He's got little, stubbly legs.

Shapes of things before my eyes

I successfully threw a surprise birthday party for my mother this past weekend. Now, before you break out in ecstatic, joyous tears and write me a gratitude check for an awful lot of money, I must point out that the whole affair was fairly easy and low key. Just my sister and her family, Nana, and me. Not a huge bash with D-list celebrity guest stars, bros, and special catered treats, but I pulled it off with, dare I say, aplomb. When we all poured into the house on Sunday, mom didn't know what was what. She figured it was just going to be me, but, "Surprise, Son!", it wasn't. We ate pizza and cake and sat on the porch and enjoyed each other's company. I installed an a./c in mom's bedroom window and put some boxes in the attic. The weather was ideal, sunny and warm and slightly breezy. After all she's been through, those radical changes that accompanied my dad's passing, she needed to have something nice done for her. Oh, and for the record, I would have gone much bigger with the party but my mother does not like grand affairs.

I had a long, deeply satisfying yoga session after work. The spiritual and physical elements were amplified; shavasana was sublime. And then I made a rice bowl with steamed broccoli, tuna marinated in teriyaki sauce, feta cheese, black beans, and sweet potato. Fortifying and very, very tasty. Now that I'm confident Billy has given up trying to poison me, I've really been enjoying my meals.

Who's listening to Jeff Beck's Truth right now? If you guessed David Gilmour, you are correct. And if you guessed me, then you are correct, too. I bet you'd like to be more like me and Davey Boy, right? Well, for starters, you should learn some tasteful licks on the guitar and then I recommend you go listen to the wonderful Truth.

Now to seek my own truth by means of a guitar and a pen and paper.

Big city, big city nights

It was around the time Adam and I, performing as The Sea Shells, released our low-fi masterpiece, "Someday My Prince Will Come (In Your Face)". Our main band, Mad By Northwest (or Fuzzy Pumper - we never could settle on a name), with Steve and Tony, was at its creative peak.

I was hanging out with Tony one day listening the aforementioned masterpiece and he told me how it provoked a terribly awkward moment with his mother. One day, she was talking to him in his room and saw our tape. She picked it up, considered it, and said "Someday my prince will come in your face". She looked at Tony intently and without humor for several excruciating seconds. As he desperately tried to think of a way out of the situation, ideally one that would erase it from his memory, his mother exclaimed "Oh, I get it! In your face, like when you just beat someone at chess and are rubbing it in. In your face!".

Tony's mother put the tape down and left the room. He probably let out the longest and deepest sigh of relief of his life up to that point. I guess Tony's mother had a narrow sexual view. She didn't catch the vulgarity. Or did she? I'll have to inquire.

Anyway, it was a good little ep. It started off with a song called "Stable Boy" which is a weirdly dark song about a weirdo stable boy. I have no idea where that song came from, but I'm sure it reflected my psychological state at the time. Yikes. That song was followed by one of my favorite tracks in The Sea Shells canon. I can't think of its name right now, but it's notable because:

1. It has one of the punchiest, funkiest, Jack Johnson era Miles, bass lines. Adam could play the bass, son!

2. The wah driven guitar playing by Adam slippery and tight and all in the groove. He could play the guitar, son!

3. My percussion (pots and pans) was so deep in the pocket, my head nearly scratched the floor.

4. The vocals. Adam used to speed up his voice sometimes. This time he didn't go as high; they almost sounded normal, which was gave the song a strange sheen. A little tidbit:just about every track we ever recorded was strange.

We wrote and recorded everything in a day. I should go dig it up some time.

In your face!

Do you remember Walter smoking cigarettes behind the garden gate?

Oh, Monday, you weren't so bad. You started off being a bit of a prick with the rain and gifting me with a trip to Worcester for work, but none of it was so bad. The trip ate up a chunk of the day and the weather improved. I monitored my thoughts and emotions and kept everything in check. Back at home, I had a vigorous and sweaty yoga session. I immersed myself into the poses and experienced the real reason we bend our bodies into these positions: mindfulness. When you're focused on every part of the body at once, everything else slips away. Mindfulness. Presence. Bliss. And following yoga was a nice replenishing meal that consisted of tuna fish, chia seeds, kielbasa, greens, tomatoes, and a couple of other super ingredients I'm not at liberty to discuss. Monsanto may come a hunting.

The weekend wasn't too shabby. I stayed at Janelle's on Thursday and we met up with Mark the following morning and headed down to the Cape to attend Craig's mother's funeral. It was great being amongst friends, but I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances. It was a hot day, the whole weekend was hot, and I'm happy Mark had a/c in his car because the traffic laden ride home would have been a hell of a lot rougher without it.

On Saturday, Spira, Pam, and I spent the day at the Museum of Fine Arts. We checked out the bad ass samurai exhibit.

I'm a big fan of feudal Japan, particularly the samurai culture, and by big fan I mean I love samurai movies and literature. I'm hardly a historian, but whatever. Leave me alone about it. Anyway, the artistry that went into the suits of armor and everything else was impressive. After the samurai exhibit we ate lunch out in the courtyard and once fortified, we checked out some Michelangelo, John Singer Sargent, some Copley, some Picasso, and some contemporary stuff too. We stayed until they kicked us out.

Off to work on some music. Still plugging away at lyrics, but there has been progress. And the more I've been working that muscle, the stronger it's becoming.

Peace out!