Heard his tinkling banjo and his voice so grand, but you must come to Belgium to shake the tattooed hand

I had my first solid bowel movement on Sunday. I almost wept. The army that had occupied my body had pretty much retreated by Saturday afternoon. I had slept through most of the night so when I awoke that morning I was hopeful recovery was in sight. It was, but not before a final battle that was biblical in proportion.

Being one of the warmer and sunniest days we'd seen in a long time, I eagerly accepted Foley's offer to go for a walk that morning, albeit with a warning that it may be a short one due to my...ahem...condition. I met him at the Diesel Cafe and from there we walked the bike path through Cambridge and into Arlington. I was feeling good and glad to be out in the fresh air. I had practiced yoga beforehand and by the time we reached Spy Pond in Arlington, I suggested we head back. I was starting to feel fatigued and I could feel light gurgling in my stomach.

Foley suggested we first walk the loop that skirted the pond. I agreed as it was only about 100 ft away and I wanted to see if anyone had fallen through the ice. If so, I would have been a hero and saved them all. Anyway, as we approached the halfway mark of the loop, Foley said "Is that Mara"?

It was. I knew, despite the fact that she was facing the pond and twenty feet away, it was her. My first impulse was to say it wasn't because I needed to get back to home base, son, and, considering I hadn't seen or talked to Mara in close to a year, there was no way it was going to be a quick hi how are you. I was parched; the first of many icy beverage fantasies overtook me.

"It is Mara!", Foley said. He called her name and she turned around. She had been taking pictures of the pond. Our reunion was kind of awkward but not as squirmy as it could have been; after all, I had more pressing concerns. Mara revealed that she had moved from Somerville to a new place up the hill from the pond about a year ago.

The three of us hit Main St. so I could get a beverage and Mara a coffee. I bought an Orangina at a trendy sub shop and polished it off within a couple of minutes. I was thankful Foley was carrying the bulk of the conversation; while I was happy to see Mara, I just wanted to go home and go to bed. We walked her back to her place after she got her coffee and hung out there for about a half hour. As we left, Mara hugged me for a long time. We made plans to get together after her trip to Florida.

On the way back, my stomach was gurgling more insistently and by the halfway mark, I was ready to burst. If Foley hadn't been with me, I probably would have shit myself or gone insane trying not to. Foley's an optimistic and mellow guy, which helped. What also helped was having someone to talk to. Again I was thankful for Foley's conversation.

In Davis Sq. we parted ways. On our walk, Foley had received a call from his mom telling him his grandmother was soon to pass. I wish I could have been more supportive- I did my best - but our goodbye was brief. I barely made it home. When I arrived I had the worst bout of diarrhea yet. I counted ten successive trips to the bathroom before it was through. The ordeal lasted over two hours.

I was spent already from the walk, but after it was all said and done, I could barely move. I lay in bed under a pile of blankets and the only clarity of thought I had had to do with beverage fantasies. I fell asleep for a spell and when I awoke I heated up some leftover lentil soup I had bought from Whole Foods. I crumbled up some saltines in it and ate ever so slowly.

Not long afterward I felt better. I was so dehydrated, it would be another day and a half until my next pee. I drank two liters of water at work on Monday and didn't have to pee until three hours later. Took a lot out of me, that bug.

But I feel better and that is good. Over the last couple of nights I've been watching The Godfather and its sequel. Two of the greatest films ever made. And I've been reading the autobiography of a satanic ritual abuse victim whilst also re-reading Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now and that cool book about our relationship with dogs, The Other End of The Leash. You can call me what you want, but you can't say my tastes aren't varied.

Oh, one thing I forgot to mention about Saturday. I had woken up that morning and fell back asleep and had a dream about running into Mara. All I remember from the dream is that she looked fuller in the face. Seeing her not two hours later, though not fuller in the face, was kind of eerie. Last night I had a dream the details I won't share because they might be too revealing, but it culminated with finding myself in the arms of a woman that seemed like she belonged with me. We were among students in a building in either Boston or New York. My recollection is unclear, but she hugged me hard and laughed. It felt good.

Alight, off with you, rascals!

It's predictable, the mood that I'm in

It's been a long week. I think a lot of us around these parts can say that with assurance, particularly those of us who had to drive in this shit fucking weather every day. Even today, when it's not snowing or raining (yet), I passed five car pulled over in the break down lane, each of them having a tire or two changed by some unlucky and probably pissed at the world driver. The cause of this event appeared to be a gaping pothole that was being serviced in the passing lane.

So the weather has been shit and to top it off I've been in the grips of a stomach bug. So, I guess you could say I've been shit, too. Literally, my darlings. I worked most of the day but probably could have done without going in at all. Jeff's away, not a lot of work; my presence wasn't essential. I slept most of the night but woke up at five thirty this morning and bee-lined to the bathroom. A pattern followed of going back to bed, just about falling asleep, being woken up by warning gurgles, then rushing to the bathroom. Happened eight times, took about an hour. No point in going back to sleep at that point. Hence, I've had a sleepy, gurgly day.

Supposed to be warm and sunny tomorrow. I'll take it, even with the knowledge that we're headed back to the deep freeze we've grown so accustomed to. And more snow, I hear. Aw, fuck it. We're in fighting shape; we can handle it.

I"m thinking chicken soup with some saltines sounds good about right now. Maybe later I'll watch an episode of The IT Crowd, a show a number of people have recommended. It's a bit more demented than I anticipated, which is a mark in its favor. Sometimes the humor is a bit derivative, but there are hearty laughs in every episode I've watched so far. And I still haven't gotten to Matthew Berrry's appearances on the show. That man brings the ruckus!

Shane should be sending me a file of the song of his I'll be singing over. If I we can figure out the means for me to record the vocals at my place, I'll be spared from having  to see him face to face. He always gives me sidelong glances that suggest he wants to kill me.

Alright, I'm out. What's that? You hope I feel better? Oh, that's sweet!

And when I want to kiss you, yeah, alll I gotta do is whisper in your ear, the words you long to hear

Sometimes it comes to pass that a few puffs are smoked while listening to Sabbath's Sweet Leaf. And sometimes on the heels of such an event arrives a blog post. I'm coming off a vigorous yoga session and I've just eaten a wonderful and fortifying meal (sauteed kale, black beans, and chicken along with left over home fries, mixed greens and sliced mango), so you'd think it's all systems go with this post. Think again. I'm not sure I'm that interested in writing tonight, but I'm here because it's been a while since my last post and for some reason, despite the fact that this blog is a ghost town concerning readership, I feel like it needs to be watered, so to speak, every once in a while so it doesn't shrivel up and die.

Here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to approach this post a bit differently, TV guide style, in an attempt to keep me invested. So let's Cheers and Jeers this bitch.

CHEERS

To me, for sticking with this post when I could have given up and watched fight videos on YouTube or something. I don't give myself enough credit for not being a lazy ass. For example, to the extent that the weather has cooperated ( and it has, oh, it has), I've created my own sporting event: The Winter Triathlon. First, you practice yoga for an hour, then you trudge about a mile through the snow and ice to the grocery store, and, back at home,you shovel the driveway. I've done it twice already. Take that winter! Speaking of winter....

JEERS

To winter. You're just a fucking asshole. And a bully. Fuck you!

JEERS

To Goffstown, NH. I just had to go to court to pay off a parking ticket I never should have gotten. I don't even want to talk about it except to say I'm glad it's over. Welcome to Goffstown, New Hampshire's taste of Nazi Germany.

CHEERS

To Sun Kil Moon's new album, Benji. Mark Kozelek has always been one of my favorite song writers, but he's taken things to another level with this album, particularly with his approach to lyrics. Every song is a heavily detailed, and often poetic, account of the events of his life.

CHEERS

To the new song I'm working on. It's coming together so seamlessly and I think I like it so much because it's a bit different than the way I traditionally write. Recording with Garage Band has given me a broader pallet. I hope to complete it this week. I'm excited about it but also bummed out that maybe only one or two people will actually listen to it. Which is why I keep telling myself to not bother posting songs on FB anymore. I haven't learned my lesson, I guess.

JEERS

To my neighbor, Steve. That prick, that fucking ape, is constantly outside shoveling. And he has an uncanny ability to wait until I'm about to lie down to take a nap to start with his bullshit. He was out there today for over an hour. It hasn't snowed since Saturday! Doesn't matter. That worm was scraping and shoveling every nook and cranny of his already-shoveled driveway. When there was nothing left to clear, I watched him walk to the end of his driveway looking around for places to shovel. I could go on about his other bizarre shoveling habits, but I don't want to give myself a stroke. Go easy on the breeze, Kevin. Gentle, gentle...

CHEERS

The Big Three. I've been gobbling up the podcast, re-watched Windy City Heat, and every video I can find with Mole, Don, and Perry. It's gotten me through this awful winter. I laugh all the time.

CHEERS

To listening to Close To The Edge right now. Black Sabbath wasn't cutting it. Man, I love old Yes. 

Alright, puppies. I'm done. And look: I didn't skimp on the post.

Nothing you can sing that can't be sung

A good weekend I suppose. I think I'll watch disc two of The Hobbit tonight. I don't watch movies that much anymore, nor do I read much fiction. Don't know exactly why that is, but it's not an alarming or anything. I'm rolling with it, ya dig? But, back to The Hobbit. I watched a bunch of disc one late last night and I was invested. So, I do still have an affinity for fiction. There is that.

I meditated for an hour today. It's not an easy, tranquil ride, meditation - sometimes it is, but not as much as one might think - but when I maintain a devoted practice, my life improves. I'm more centered; things still get to me, but it doesn't last long. And intuition plays a more pronounced role. For example, the other day I bought some groceries and at checkout, bags in hand, I found myself just standing there. Just as I began to question why I was loitering, the bagger handed me a bag. "You forgot one, sir", he said. So, yeah, that type of thing.

Spira and I went to her friend Ileana's reception last night. It was a good time. Ileana is a transplant from Mexico and her  photography was on display. I enjoyed her work. Kind of surreal, kind of normal. Shots of her pets and her interacting. Good stuff.

Alright, looks like I have to cut this post short. This site is acting very strangely and is preventing me from doing much. "You have logged out from another location. Do you want to log in again?" is the message that keeps popping up. I wonder if I'm being hacked.

Perhaps this is the last post ever. Perish the thought. I suspect Billy has something to do with this.

I've been let loose from the noose

Not sure I want to be writing tonight, if you don't mind this bit of candor. I'd like to go listen to a recoding I made earlier today and pursue relaxation in other forms. So we're going to lightning round this. Ready, friends? Great. And awaayyyyyyy we go!

No work today. Snow storm. About a foot. I did some recording. I smoked weed. I shoveled the driveway and then took a walk to the grocery store as the sky spit snow on me. It was the closest thing to an Iron Man type scenario I could manage given the weather. It was good exercise and I'm glad I partook.

The cold showers continue. Sometimes twice a day. Can't say I've noticed any noticeable benefits, but that's ok. At the very least, I'm getting  myself to engage in an activity that isn't always comfortable but makes me feel better for having done it. I try, as often as possible, to engage the peaceful warrior in me. I had a cold shower last night and I found myself grunting and growling like a samurai. Stirring the lion from its slumber. My yoga practice has reached a similar dimension; I'm feeling stronger than ever before and consequently have been able to robustly perform certain poses I couldn't perform before. For too long too much of me cowered before life. I'm pleased that I've moved away from that. It's been a journey.

And I'm out. Time to go do that stuff I mentioned doing. I hope you're drowning in ecstasy and peace, each and every one of you.