Tuesday, May 27, 2014

She has a house and garden, I would like to see what happens

Listening to Cate Le Bon, the Welsh songwriter, and she reminds me of Palace and Fairport Convention. Throw in some Velvet Undergound, too.She could fit seamlessly in the magnificent English folk of the 60's and 70's. Good stuff. She takes real simple riffs and expands on them. Lots of good ideas and I love her voice.   

Reading The Trials of Jeffrey MacDonald and if I had purchased it earlier in the weekend, I would have finished it already. I read for hours last night until I finally relented and went to bed. I'll go at it again tonight. Erroll Morris is a great writer, especially considering he's a filmmaker by trade. Such a gripping and thorough account of murder and how narratives are spun so deftly that fiction becomes fact.

I'm about to enter the glorious and always fruitful world of online dating; first, though, I have to finish my profile (I'm an OK Cupid member). I would have tried this before, but thoughts of women sneering at my meager income held me back. What I didn't factor into the equation was the shining brilliance of my pure heart, which makes up for any deficiencies. Anyway, the profile will take some time because I don't want to come off like a fucking lunatic. Stay tuned.

Alright, guppies. I'm done here.

Peace



Monday, May 26, 2014

Cor mio,deh,non piangete

My vision has gotten blurrier; guess I'll have to go to the eye doctor at some point. It's been years and years since I've had to do anything about it. Maybe finally I'll start wearing contacts. Stay tuned!

I started reading Don Quixote a few days ago and have been enjoying it more than I anticipated. It's a giant tome, so it may be a while until I finish. Not that you care. Or do you? Hmm....

I've been debating whether to start reading the new book on the Dyatlov Pass incident, Dead Mountain, or Stanton Friedman's book Captured! about the country's first reported UFO abduction by Betty and Barney Hill back in 1964 or thereabouts. I've spent all day mulling which one to read; might have to throw a third book into the mix to make things more interesting.

Life rolls on and there are times I really want to stop the ride, but they are brief and don't hold sway. Ah, it happens. Look, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this trip. Or did I? Hmm....

You do what you can. I hoped to get more lyric writing done this weekend, but it hasn't happened. However, I did flesh out some songs and made a list of the ones (too many!) that need lyrics. I was talking to Spira about the writing process and she was surprised at how painstaking it often is for me. Maybe if I stopped whining about it so much, it would come easier. Yeah, maybe.

I was making breakfast the other morning and Fred came out of his room accompanied by a pungent odor that recalled old cheese and unorthodox Middle Eastern cooking. It was such a thick aroma, I had to suppress the urge to vomit in the sink. Whew! The smell filled the rest of the downstairs and remained there for most of the day. Fortunately, this type of thing seldom occurs, otherwise I'd have to invest in a Hazmat suit. Or something. Anyway, I don't mean to portray Fred in an unflattering way, but what happened needed to be documented in the interest of science.

I'm not going to lie to you, I've been watching Hell's Kitchen. I think I'm ready to move on, though; you kind of get the idea early on how it's going to go. I just love watching Chef Ramsey yell at people. He has perhaps the best scowl I've ever seen. It's classic.

Listening to some Gesualdo madrigals; so haunting and lovely. I'm still absorbing Einstein On The Beach. Sometimes I am in tune with it, other times it's too frantic and unsettling. Kind of mirrors my relationship with Billy.

 The desire to be sensual, to engage in carnal actions with a lovely lady is palpable. Might have to put out an APB or some shit. At the very least, I'll view some porn to slake the desire.

Okay, lovers, it's time to wrap this up. I'm thinking Captured! may be the book I'll get, but who knows. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Update: A third book, Errol Morris's The Trials of Jeffrey Macdonald, entered the fray and won out. It was a close call but this book had more appeal particularly because I'm a fan of Errol Morris and have had an interest in the MacDonald case for some time. Let's see how it goes. 

The End


Wednesday, May 21, 2014

One two three four five six seven, all good children go to Heaven

I barely eat meat anymore. I like keeping my options open - the other night I had a pork chop at my mom's house - but the desire to eat meat isn't really there. There are several different foods, pasta being one of them, that I rarely eat anymore. All of this has been happening organically and almost outside my attention. There are days I only eat water-rich foods and maybe a couple of pieces of Ezekiel bread and some crackers. It happens.

Alright, this was meant to be a brief post, so I'll keep it brief. I'll be back with a longer post probably tomorrow and, don't worry, I won't be bragging about how awesome my diet is. Well, maybe I will devote a couple of paragraphs to that topic, but you can skip over them if you must.

Tonight:

Finish watching Pacific Rim, a movie I wish I saw in the theater. It's pretty bad ass, like Godzilla VS. Transformers. I'm so happy Michael Bay, who I hate so much, did not direct it.

Lyrics. I've been sitting down with a note pad the last several nights with no real intention beyond putting pen to paper and working the creative muscle, which needs some physical therapy, if you know what I mean. No, I guess you don't.

Also over the last several nights I've been listening studiously to Einstein On The Beach, unlocking its treasures. I was listening to some of it in the kitchen the other night while I was preparing dinner and Fred came out of his room and said, "Phillip Glass, right?". I said, "Yes" and then he said, "This is something I could see myself just sitting down and listening to for a few days". I said "That's what I've been doing". And then we laughed all the live long day.

Spira forced me to watch Master Chef: Junior  the other night and got me hooked. I watched the last episode earlier this evening. Damn, those tykes can cook, son! Next up: Master Chef: Toddler.

Listened to the new Big Three episode in the car today and didn't finish it. Might have to remedy that situation after I say see ya wouldn't wanna be ya to this post. This was the first episode in months and, boy, oh boy, was I thrilled to download it. It's my favorite thing in life. That and the Marine Corps.

See ya, puppies!

Sunday, May 18, 2014

We turned our gaze from the castles in the distance, eyes cast down on the path of least resistance

You know, I think this weekend is nature's way of saying, "Look, I beat you all down again and again and again this past winter, so here you go, a gorgeous sunny weekend that had been predicted to be a rainy and shitty". Well, thank you, nature!

I woke up yesterday, practiced some yoga, and then worked on music. And then it occurred to me: "Porchfest is today!". Porchfest is an awesome event in Somerville in which local musicians play music from their porches. I called Spira and told her to get her ass and Missy D over to my place toots sweet. And then, just as I was thinking about calling Foley, he texted me about Porchfest.

Foley arrived first and rolled a J in my living room while we waited for the ladies. When they arrived, we headed out and ended up having a great time. Way more music this year than last year. We couldn't believe how much activity there was! Just about every other house had music playing. And the streets were packed and everyone (well, not everyone, but I'll get to that in a minute) was smiling and enjoying themselves. Here and there, we met up with various friends and heard some great music. The lilacs and other flowers filled the air with their lush fragrances; ahhhhh....You know, it's great living in a city like this.

One street was particularly active. A short one, it had music coming from three houses. One porch had a dude playing covers on a theremin. Pretty neat. As we were coming onto the street, a guy listening to shitty euro-dance music in his car had the same idea. A ridiculous move to make, seeing how every square inch was carpeted with revelers. He didn't care and ended up angrily parking in front of someone's driveway. He stormed out of the car (by the way, he looked so out of place, like he just walked off the set of Jersey Shore) and barreled through the crowd, cursing and muttering. Turns out he lived in one of the houses. Guess he didn't get the memo about Porchfest.

About fifteen minutes later, we saw the bro again, this time driving his car up the other end of the road aggressively. So not only is he being a dick but now he's driving the wrong way up a one way street. As he passed by, he beeped his horn and yelled at various people. At one point he stopped and got out of his car. He threw his arms up in a challenging gesture and yelled, "Get the fuck out of here! This is my street!" It was such an odd, sad, and comical display. He's lucky he was among cheery people, because he was outnumbered about three hundred to one. Fucking dick.

We walked over to Foley's, met up with his girlfriend, and relaxed with some beers on his shady patio. Foley played some rare Nick Drake recordings from his window which really hit the spot. Princess Puppy Baby found a nice spot to relax in the dirt by some bushes and took a nap. A glorious afternoon.

After a spell, we parted ways. Spira and I had plans to see Godzilla in Boston. I had read a few positive reviews that said all the right things, so I was eager to see it. First, we had a quick salad for dinner at Spira's and then we got on the T. We forgot about the work they're doing at Government Center, so we had to switch trains, which consequently had us arriving at the theater later than we intended. Considering it was opening weekend for the movie, finding good seats was a concern.

It worked out. We found decent seats and, after sitting through about nine or ten fucking previews, almost all of which featured explosions, jump cut editing/shaky cam, explosions, shit exploding, devastation everywhere, explosions, people dying and screaming, explosions, shit flying everywhere, explosions, robots, aliens, doom doom doom doom, explosions, apocalyptic nightmares, explosions....

By the time the movie started, I felt spent and vaguely suicidal. Anyway, it was worth it. We saw it in 3D Imax, which cost twenty bucks and maybe not worth it on that count. I would have been happy watching it the old fashioned way. Whatever. It was a blast and a necessity to see on the big screen. They did it right. Godzilla looked badass, the fight scenes were epic but not over done, character development was as good as it needed to be, and the cinematography was really good. My problem with a lot of comic book movies is the endless, nonsensical fight scenes that go on and on and on to the point where you're just numbed to the action. Godzilla wasn't like that. Gareth Edwards was the right guy to direct this film. And watching it with Spira was a blast; she cracked me up with all the fun she was having.

Back at Spira's, we made hot dogs and watched Master Chef: Junior Edition. And then I went home and listened to Phillip Glass's opera, Einstein On The Beach, which had the effect of obliterating my mind with it's awesomeness. I stayed up late into the wee hours and woke up this morning around eleven. I haven't woken up this late in a while.

Good times this weekend.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Ain't no water in the water fountain

I've been inspired lately, musically speaking - perhaps it's the result of spring's arrival, I don't know - and I'm planning on finishing up a hoard of older songs and barreling forward with new ones. Also in the works are more shows. Playing music is my calling and whether it's lucrative, it's as much a part of me as anything else. There were a couple of months there when I played very little, and part of that had to do with the lackluster response my Ignore Emporium FB page generated. Look, it's a tough racket being artistically inclined: on the one hand, you're sensitive to the elements and on the other you've got to be thick-skinned when you share what you do with the public. Yes, I was a bit discouraged - it happens from time to time - but I never doubted my abilities and never again will I stop doing what I'm made to be doing because of what other people think.  And, you know, fuck 'em. I've got a few people that appreciate what I do and have been supportive and, when my music garners more exposure, there will be more than a few.

Last weekend was busy. The week leading up to it was white-knuckled with various worries and sundry. I was pro-active, though, and took care of myself the best I could. I put up a guitar lessons ad on Craig's List on Thursday (only got one response, but it looks like I've got a gig). Spira helped me update my resume and hash out some work possibilities. I just read an interview in Vanity Fair with Biz Stone, the founder of Twitter, and in it he spoke about how poor he was before Twitter. He described those days as being bone on bone I know of what he speaks. But I'm sick of living that way and I'm not going to let my situation beat me. I'm adjusting my vibration to a higher frequency, y'all.

So a busy weekend. I went to Spira's after work on Friday, ostensibly to work on my resume, but we put it off until Sunday, which was okay with me. Instead, she treated to dinner at Atwood's in Cambridge (one of our favorite places) followed by a viewing of Windy City Heat back at her place. I needed the funny. When I arrived at her place, I was feeling raw and edgy, but she  helped me through it. What a friend!

On Saturday, I picked up Nana and headed to my mother's place and from there we drove all the way to Ashburnham to attend my nephew's first communion. Leading up to the event, I had been pouty about going; it had been a tough week for me and the prospect of spending a whole day doing stuff I'd rather not be doing was not something that filled me with glee. Still, I made the best of it and the day turned out to be alright, albeit long.

I'm not a church guy and if it wasn't for the eye candy on display (i.e. pretty women if you hadn't guessed), I would have jumped through one of the stained glass windows after the first hour (it went an hour and a half ). After the proceedings, we went to my sister's house for pizza and dessert. It wasn't terrible, but I wanted to go home. I'm glad I went, though; I love my family and, when I can, I try to be supportive.

I didn't get home until around nine. The driving had been treacherous; torrential rain and flooding - good times! On Sunday, I went back to Spira's and helped her clean her place. I was glad to help, especially considering she paid me for it. On Friday, when we were talking about my financial concerns, she said "Would you be willing to clean my place if I paid you?" I said yes immediately because every little bit helps and I don't mind cleaning as much as she does. So we cleaned for over five hours and I earned my money. And then we worked on my resume for a while. Felt good being productive and not curled up in a ball. Thanks, Spira!

Look a the time! There is more to report, but whatever.Things are looking up; maybe I'll tell you why. Perhaps tomorrow.

Peace

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

The future's uncertain and the end is always near

Today is the first day in a few that didn't dose me with fearful thoughts, paranoia, and related nonsense. I did my best to combat it all through meditation and yoga, two practices I don't think I've ever once mentioned in this blog, but I almost slipped into a chasm of futility when I read about the White House's bleak, but unsurprising, climate report.

One thing at a time. We think we know what is going to happen in life, but we really don't. So, I stayed as present as I could muster, particularly when despair set in thick. It wasn't as bad as I make it seem, perhaps, but it wasn't a tip toe through the tulips.

Good news arrived last night concerning The Big Three podcast, one of my favorite things in the world. Seems it is coming back from the grave. Earlier in the day, I had been thinking about how pretty soon I'll have listened to the entire library, which bummed me out a little bit, but then I heard they were coming back and....oh, my, the breath it did quicken and a whoop! blew out of my mouth. The light shineth through!


 One of these days, I'll write an essay about how much these guys mean to me.

I meditated in half lotus last night and I barely made it through the half hour. Not terribly comfortable and today I walked around with a slight limp. My right knee hasn't been right for a while. Slowly it gets better. I need to go easier on it. Anyway, the half lotus was worth it. I don't know if it had to do with my spine being straighter or if it was just my time, but for a good chunk of the session my body pulsed with balls of energy that surged from my sacrum up to my third eye. Pretty cool.

I just realized that I haven't have meat in about two weeks. Not by design, it's just been happening naturally. Ram Dass talks about this type of thing happening as a result of consistent meditation practice. Pretty cool.

I've also, in case you were wondering, been continuing with the cold showers. It's been going on for months. I'm glad I stuck with it. You should congratulate me with a meaningful gift.

I was going to say some other stuff but I forgot it all. Oh, well.

Peace to all of you. Even you, Billy.




Monday, May 5, 2014

You pulled the trigger on my love gun

I'm not in the best spirits, but it could be worse. Concerns, and they are major, about income have coiled around me today and then there is what looks to be another in an unfortunate long line of rejections when it comes to women. I don't even want to get into it.

I don't know what it is about me that women, or at least the ones I've been interested in, find unappealing. I'm sure there are numerous factors involved and not all involving me, but when you strike out a lot, you've got to start wondering about your swing.

Anyway, my aim here is not to beat myself up. But to say I'm not frustrated would be a lie. So I balance the frustration with a kind of defiance that, chin up, says, "There is abundance and there are women out there who would find me appealing".

Still, it's not easy projecting confidence with my track record. I'm curious to know what it is about me that turns women off so much. My looks? Sure, there's that possibility, though I personally don't think I'm ugly or anything. Am I too weird? Maybe. Is it my meager income? Can't say that factors too much into considering I tend to get rejected before they know my earnings. Maybe it's karma. Perhaps in a past life I was a real cad. 

Who knows

Look, I'm over thinking and while my tone may suggest otherwise, I'm really not too bummed out about my love life right now. Frustrated and confounded, yes, but my feelings of self worth have not taken a hit.There are plenty of women out there; I'm sure there's at least one for me. Well, there is one woman out there who is fond of me: my dear mom. I know she'd at least give me the courtesy of responding to a text.

Anyway, the big thing is money and a job and a career. I feel lost and vulnerable (and a bit close to freaking out right now, which is why I'm going to hit the yoga mat and meditate) and it is not a fun place to be. I'm more vulnerable than I've ever been and  the only net I"m working with is faith. But that is how I feel now and I know it won't always be this way. Transitions aren't always comfortable, but they need to happen once in a while. I really need to make some changes, even without the present urgency.

Alright, lovers,

Sunday, May 4, 2014

You walk down Alameda, shuffling your deck of trick cards

I woke up around ten this morning feeling on the one hand like I could use a couple of hours more sleep and on the other like I wanted to get up and practice yoga. I got up and practiced yoga. And then, because the kitchen floor was finally too dirty for my comfort level, I swept and mopped the floor, all the while thinking of cleaner pastures. After that was done, I made a light breakfast. The rest of my day was spent lounging because that's what I felt like I needed to be doing, it being Sunday after all, but there was a predominant restlessness, a feeling like I should be doing something else, something more productive.

I've been feeling like this more and more. I've got to make some changes before they make me.

Yesterday, I spent the day at my mom's doing yard work. I raked and put lime and fertilizer down on the lawn. I had the leaf blower out, too. It felt good being outdoors working up a sweat and getting my hands dirty. Later, I met up with Spira and Princess Puppy Baby at their place and we talked and watched some Alan Watts mashups.

Things can't stay the same. Work is still slow and I wonder if they'll close shop. If they don't, I still need to look for work. Being poor is played out; I'm too vulnerable in too many ways. Life can be scary, but there is power to be found in the empty spaces. That's where I need to go.

I feel like practicing yoga again. Something. I'm restless, but not sure how to channel it. I'll meditate later, maybe for an hour. I need some balance, hope.

Alright, pilgrims. That's all I've got for you.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me

I was at the Registry of Deeds in Lowell this afternoon and the clerk recording my documents was crotchety the second she came to the counter. Her mood was not brightened by the documents I presented her with. I had an understanding why; most of them were uncommon and fraught with subtle traps. And because I was recording in Registered Land, that meant she had to get everything exactly right, no fucking mistakes. It's a much stricter procedure than what they do in Recorded Land, where the only real requirements are that the documents need to be signed and notarized and money needs to be given for services rendered.

Anyway

So, yeah, she was in a foul mood and not happy about having to deal with this potential ball of thorns. I silently chanted Om Mani Padme Hum and hoped it would have a soothing effect on her. We've all been where she was; I tried not to be offended by her foul mood.

It wasn't easy. There were a few moments when the urge to tell her to get a hold of herself and stop bitching was palpable. She was presented with a task she didn't want to perform and was acting like a baby about it. I didn't have time for that, son! I had to be assertive with her once when she got flustered about one of the documents not making sense. She was looking to me for help, but I informed her that I wasn't an attorney and had a limited familiarity with the documents. "I'm not an attorney,either", she said in a a tone more pleading than bitchy. In the interest of getting on with it I said, "I need you to explain what doesn't make sense to you so I can convey it to the attorney that prepared the documents."  This had the effect of a zen slap and calmed her down a bit.

Anyway

Everything worked out fine and I went back to work. At the office, my mood darkened. I found myself entertaining self-defeating and paranoid thoughts. My mind was like the nightly news: one negative story after another for no good reason. Fucking hell, what was going on?

Well, I had just downed a sizable cup of coffee which I'm as sure as sure can be contributed to my malaise. Also, there was that bitchy lady at the Registry of deeds; she infected me with her crummy attitude, I bet. And I didn't like the way Marcy seemed a bit curt with me on the phone when I called her with recording information.

For a while, but not too long, I was a gloomy chap, but I got through it, son, so no need to take fright. I observed it all happening, calmed my mind, and woke from the spell, just like happened with the ROD clerk I so vividly described above. When you shake a glass of water with sediment at its base, everything gets cloudy and chaotic. In order to restore balance, you've got to stop shaking the glass and let things settle. That's what I did, and it worked. The thing is, though, that sediment is still there. Gotta empty the glass, no other way around it.

One thing at a time.

The sun came out this afternoon and when I got home from work, I walked into Davis Square after dinner. It was good to be outside, revivifying. I chanted Om Mani Padme Hum and strolled merrily along, not a care in the world.