New Year's Resolution

"I resolve to be the best man I can be."

Happy New Year!

M

Why I Play Guitar

People have asked me over the years, and some of you reading this may have wondered, what got me started playing guitar?

I can answer in 2 words: Joe Negri



Joe Negri is a genius...but he's too polite and too humble to ever admit it. Or even acknowledge it. He just plays. And plays. And plays. And plays rings around almost any guitarist you've ever heard.

I first heard him play when I was a kid. Maybe 5 years old. He used to be on Paul Shannon's Adventure Time TV show. Little did I know at the time, he was also the music director for the station. When I was about 8, my Cub Scout troupe was part of the audience, and I got to hear him play live and got to meet the man. He amazed me. He made it look so simple and so fun. Joe has always been great with kids and has inspired countless "kids" of all ages to start playing guitar.



Somewhere at my dad's house, is a photo of my mom and some of her friends with Joe at a show. I've told Joe about this photo many times and if I can ever find it again, I'll be giving him a copy. The original will be framed and hung in my den/music room!

When I moved back to Pittsburgh in 1990, I was thrilled to find that Joe was still performing regularly. I used to go see him play these happy hour shows at the Westin William Penn Hotel downtown. I would badger him with requests for songs like "Moonlight In Vermont" and the original Johnny Smith version of "Walk Don't Run" (yes kids, it was originally a jazz song!). Joe would laugh and ask how I know all of these old songs! Then he would play them and just leave my jaw swinging!

Back then, I was still playing bass a bit and was mostly playing upright bass. Joe asked me once to join his band. Needless to say, I declined on grounds of incompetence! I was honest with him that I felt that my playing (mostly rockabilly/blues based) was far too rudimentary for backing him. He asked me to reconsider but I held firm. In short, I was chickenshit. When I think back on how much I could have learned from that man! JEEZ!!!!!!!

I've gotten to hear and often times befriend some of the best players in the biz. Joe is no exception but I'll tell ya...he outplays them all. Is he as fast as the late Danny Gatton? Maybe not. Is he as inventive as the late Les Paul? Maybe not...but his playing is best likened thusly: his music is like making love. All others are just masturbating.

Joe is 85 now. He's still playing although sadly not as often. I'm lucky enough to hear from him maybe once a year and let me tell you, to me thats akin to getting a call or email from God himself! I've been trying to talk him into letting me produce a solo guitar CD for him. He's so humble, he feels he needs a band with him. I, for one, would love to hear him do a record of just him and his guitar. Just sit him in the studio and let him just play for 4-5 hours. I bet it would be AMAZING!!!!!!!!

Anyhoo, Joe Negri is, and always will be, THE MAN when it comes to playing guitar. If I could play like him, I'd forget rock, blues, rockabilly, country, etc. But if it hasn't happened in the past 34 years, its not likely to happen any time soon! I guess I'll just keep on rockin' and wishing I could jam like Joe.





If you ever get the chance to go see him perform, GO! Well into his 80s, his playing is still amazing! Google him if you get the chance. He's had an amazing career!



God bless you Joe Negri. You inspired me (and countless others) to pick up the guitar and make countless hours of music. And that, friends, is the greatest gift I've ever had.

Do They Know Its Kwanzaa?

I have a problem with Kwanzaa. Its only as old as I am (45 years now). I DO NOT have a problem with the ideas it celebrates but I do have a problem with the fact that it was created as a seperatist holiday. And I have a problem with it's creator refering to Jesus Christ as "psychotic". See below:

(from Wikipedia...I know, not always 100% accurate...but close enough for jazz)

"Maulana Karenga of the US Organization created Kwanzaa in 1966 as the first specifically African American holiday . Karenga said his goal was to "give Blacks an alternative to the existing holiday and give Blacks an opportunity to celebrate themselves and history, rather than simply imitate the practice of the dominant society." The name Kwanzaa derives from the Swahili phrase matunda ya kwanza, meaning first fruits of the harvest. The choice of Swahili, an East African language, reflects its status as a symbol of Pan-Africanism, especially in the 1960s.

Kwanzaa is a celebration that has its roots in the black nationalist movement of the 1960s, and was established as a means to help African Americans reconnect with their African cultural and historical heritage by uniting in meditation and study of African traditions and Nguzu Saba, the "seven principles of African Heritage" which Karenga said "is a communitarian African philosophy".

During the early years of Kwanzaa, Karenga said that it was meant to be an alternative to Christmas, that Jesus was psychotic, and that Christianity was a white religion that black people should shun. However, as Kwanzaa gained mainstream adherents, Karenga altered his position so that practicing Christians would not be alienated, then stating in the 1997 Kwanzaa: A Celebration of Family, Community, and Culture, "Kwanzaa was not created to give people an alternative to their own religion or religious holiday."

Many Christian African Americans who celebrate Kwanzaa do so in addition to observing Christmas."

OK,so there you have it. My other problem is, do we really deserve another holiday? We've become a lazy bunch. Another reason to WORK is what we really need! But with the global economic crisis, I guess we already have that.

Anyhoo, Happy Whatever-You-Celebrate. Be good to YOU and to those you care about. Be good to those that you don't. And be good to those that you don't know. We're all on this planet together.

And yes Bobby Stoeckle, there IS a video!

Something to think about...

Its getting to where I hate to watch the news or read the paper (or online news). I keep hearing about so much bad stuff...and sadly, a lot of bad stuff here in the US.

I've spent the last two years working the night shift at a mental health facility. If its a quiet night, I often listen to the radio and have recently found that one of the NPR stations plays BBC World News all night. If you really want some idea of how the world views us Americans, check out the news from another country. It might be an eye opener.

That said, it breaks my heart to hear that 1 in 5 American women are victims of sexual violence. It breaks my heart that we can no longer trust our politicians, bankers, clergy or even athletic coaches. It seems like everyone is out for themselves and their own desires. What ever happened to responsibility?

Maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe my looking back on the past is merely tinted through my own memories...but was the world always this evil? Growing up, I knew there were bad people out there. My parents always taught me to beware of them. My parents taught me well. They taught me that there are good people too. They taught me to figure out who was who. Do parents even bother with that anymore?

And speaking of parents, GROW UP! Your job is NOT to be your child's best friend. Your job is to be your child's parent! Letting little Johnny or Suzy have their way all of the time is not helping them. Case in point: I was driving home from work yesterday morning and I saw a kid in my neighborhood waiting for the school bus. It was 23 degrees out. It was COLD! And this kid was wearing shorts! Its not cute. Its not "cool". It shows that the kid is an idiot and that his parents are even bigger idiots. If I had tried that, my mom would've smacked some sense into my head!

Here's something we can all try: How about we try to be what we're supposed to be? How about we try to be the way that we want others to view us? How about we all try to do the right thing, at least most of the time? Is that too much to ask?

I'll never begrudge anyone making an honest buck. If you become rich through hard work and perserverence, God bless you! But...if you make a fortune by ruining the lives of others, you've done wrong. If your living depends on destroying the world around you, you've done wrong. I'm not saying that I'm better than you. I am, however, taking the time to make choices that I feel are ethical and positive in their nature.

I don't know how or why the world has become what is has. All I know is, I don't like it. And neither should you. Of course, no one can effect immediate, wide spread change. But...we can each change our own lives day by day. Take the time to think things through before you act. "Look before you leap" as the old saying goes. In this 'instant' society, that may be harder than you think...but good things never come easy.

Just something to think about....

Drummers

Being a musician, I have worked with many, many, many drummers. Drummers are an essential part of my music. A bad drummer can ruin a song quicker than anything. A good drummer can make a mediocre piece of music sound brilliant.

That said, drummers are the bane of my existence. They are, by and large, my favorite people in the world to drink with. They are usually a blast to hang out with. They often even have great production ideas in the studio! But then comes actually working with them.

While a drummer's job is to keep time, they don't understand the concept of clocks. If you tell them that load-in time is 6pm, they might be there by 8pm. Hence the concept of DST (Drummer Standard Time). If you want the drummer to be someplace on time, tell him to be there at least two hours before he/she needs to be there. This should mean they'll only be 20 minutes late.

And now, my favorite drummer jokes:

Q: What does it mean when a drummer is drooling out of both sides of his/her mouth?

A: It means the stage is level.



Q: What do you call those people who hang out with musicians?

A: Drummers.




I really do love drummers. Almost as much as I love having fun at their expense.

Merry Christmas to all of my drummer friends!

Are you pissed off yet?

Are you pissed off yet? If not, you should be!

You shouldn't be pissed off at this picture, nor me for creating it. You should be pissed off that We The People have allowed this country to become what it is. We, the citizens of these United States of America, have allowed it to become a tyranny in democratic clothing.

Sure, you can sit back and complain. Lord knows we all do. The reality is, WE allowed this to happen. We kept 'electing' one crooked politician after another. We've allowed them to live a life of luxury while destroying our home. Hell, even the richest 1% are gobsmacked at how blindly stupid we are.

The Tea Party are the cowards who wave flags and hide at home, often times while living on their much detested "gubment money". I'm personally AMAZED at how many people I know who, while living on welfare,disability, etc., sit back and complain about all that they are given. Most of them probably don't vote. If they did, there wouldn't be a Democrat in any office outside of the White House right now. We can be thankful that most of them are too lazy - too willing to let the other guy shoulder the burden; something they're used to.

Now before you start whining at me about this, look at reality. Yes, there are some Tea Party members who want the best for this country. Unfortunately, most are racist sycophants who parrot phrases, slogans and bumper stickers. If you want to see what these people look like when they're at home, go to the People of Wal Mart site.

Then there's the other extreme. The Occupiers. I like what I think they're about...although no one really knows for sure! I've talked to a lot of these folks...and sadly, none can give me a straight answer. The bottom line is, they're pissed off at what America has become. OK, I'm with them on that! But how can they really be against corporate America when they're all carrying iPhones???? Kids, grab some quarters and use a pay phone. Go to the library and use the computer. I think you'll give yourself more cred that way.

Then there's every one else! Mostly sitting around waiting for the next big headline so we can weigh in our opinions at the water cooler or local tavern. Guess what folks...we're ALL being screwed! If you don't believe me, take a good look around. Talk to your friends and neighbors. How many are worse off now than they were 10, 15, 20 years ago?

I've been pushing for universal healthcare for over 25 years. I've been called every name in the book for it too. Why? Because America has been lied to for so long that we believe the lies. One of my favorite lies about universal healthcare is 'the waiting lists'. Well gosh, if we need to see a doctor, we'll have to wait and wait!

Well here are two true stories for you. I know these to be true because I WAS THERE! A few years back, while in Australia, a friend's daughter felt she needed to be seen by her doctor. Honestly, I thought she was healthy as a horse (and was/is) but she had it in her teenage head that she had to go and no one was going to stop her. She made an appointment for the VERY NEXT DAY! Saw her doc, got his diagnosis and went on her merry way. I think the whole thing may have cost her $5.

A few weeks back, I found out that I'm losing my job at the end of the year. Luckily, our company is helping us look for jobs and are already helping out with unemployment paperwork if needed. As I'll be losing my job, this also means losing my health benefits, so I'm trying to get in to see all of my doctors before then, just to be on the safe side. Well guess what kids...I have to wait no less than 2 weeks to see ANY of my doctors. And thats with good old American health insurance.

I've been off with the flu for the past few days, so I'll probably have to go to Med Express or one of those quack shacks to get a doctor's excuse to start back to work. What a joke. But remember kids...universal healthcare is bad...mmmmmmkay. (yes, I'm being sarcastic)

How many of us are happy to be controlled by corporations that would rather send jobs overseas than employ Americans? How many of us are happy that the idiots we elect to speak for us, don't...and then vote themselves pay raise after pay raise...and then can draw a pension for failing to do their jobs?

Are YOU happy with 21st century America as it is right now? Really? I'd love to hear your thoughts. I probably won't though. You might miss your favorite reality TV show. Or maybe your too drunk, pissing away your SSI check. Or maybe, just maybe, you really don't give a damn. If that's the case, shame on you!

Raggy Dogs

I have an online buddy down in Mississippi we call Uncle Raggy. He's a minister by trade but also one heckuva musician. As it turns out, the man knows his way around the kitchen too. He and I often get to talking about food and different things we like to make.

Well, one of Raggy's faves is his take on hot dogs. Yep. Weenies. Tube steaks. Franks. Red hots. Whatever you want to call them.

Now you're probably wondering just how the hell can anyone do anything particularly special with hot dogs. You either boil them, grill them, fry them or nuke them, right? But have you ever thought about a marinated hot dog? I'll admit, it sounded odd to me too...but knowing a thing or three about cooking, his recipe sounded interesting, so I thought I'd give it a try.

Raggy has a video on YouTube about how to make these hot dogs and man, it's funny! That's how he and I became buds...he's a funny, funny man. But watching the video, I really thought these looked interesting, so I showed it to the young'un. She usually doesn't cook but even she thought this looked interesting, so we decided to give it a try.

Let me tell you, these are the BEST FRIGGIN' HOT DOGS YOU WILL EVER EAT!!!!!!!!!! The two of us wiped out an entire pack (8 hot dogs, 4 each) in one sitting! They're really THAT GOOD!!!!!!

OK, I didn't follow Raggy's recipe to the letter but it was close enough. Like Raggy says, "If you don't like it, don't put it in". In my case, I didn't have some of the ingrediants, so I improvised. This is what the end result looked like:



Mind the photo...took it with my cell phone. But seriously, these are outrageously good!If you want to make them, here's what you'll need:

salt
pepper
onion powder
garlic powder
honey
molasses
cayenne pepper
chili powder
sage
mustard powder
poultry seasoning
basil
paprika
hot dogs
buns
olive oil
butter

You mix your dry ingrediants together 1st. Add as much or as little as you like. I've attached Raggy's video at the end of this so you can get his "official" recipe. Once you have your dry ingrediants mixed, add in a 1/4 cup or so of both molasses and honey. Trust me, the hot & spicy ingrediants mix in a beautiful contrast with the sweetness of the honey and molasses. Who knew?

Next, using a fork, score the sides of your hot dogs. This will allow the seasoning/marinade to adhere to the weenies. This is KEY!

Then you coat your skillet with olive oil, let it get good and hot and brown the hell out of those weenies! Once they're good and browned and slightly crispy, remove and drain. A bowl covered in paper towel will work. Drain the oil from you skillet, clean it and then melt a glob of butter in there.

Place your hot dogs in the melted butter and coat evenly by rolling them around in it. Then add the marinade. Make sure you coat each dog thoroughly and as evenly as possible. Raise your heat to about 350F and let the marinade and seasonings sear into the dogs. This will only take a minute or two. Then remove from skillet, onto some fresh paper towels (just long enough to sop out any extra grease there may be) and then commence to putting these dogs on a bun!



I'd highly suggest holding off on adding condiments until AFTER you've tried it. The young'un and I both thought these were just perfect plain...and we always have some top notch mustard around for hot dogs. It just sat in the fridge. These were amazing! The young'un damned near knocked me over getting back to the kitchen for a 2nd one!

I'd like to thank my buddy Raggy for introducing me to this CHEAP culinary delight. In this day and age, with the price of everything going through the roof, its nice to find something cheap and easy to make that tastes AMAZING!

And just so you know, these weenies taste just as good burping them up as they do going down!

As promised, here's Raggy's original video. If you like it, tell him Memphis Mike sent ya. If you try this recipe, and you like it, be sure to drop Raggy a line and let him know. I'm pretty sure you'll love these!



Until next time, Bon Appetit!

M

Thanksgivus

OK, so I'm a couple weeks early...sue me! LOL This is the 6th year I've posted this and since people still seem to like it and ask for it, here it is! Be thankful for all of the people in your world!

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND!!!!!! 6th YEAR!!!!!!

Thanksgivus

Thanksgivus: that's what she called it. The 'she' in question would be a very short, loud, middle aged black woman with retardation who I supervised for years. Her name is Omega...fitting because she truly is THE END!

Omega didn't exactly have a speech problem but I think her hearing wasn't 100% on the mark, as certain words would get slurred together such as "Thanksgivus". Another fave was her version of Social Security, which often sounded more like "sociable secretary" (of which I've known a few).

Thanksgivus (which is what I now prefer to call the US holiday Thanksgiving) is the last Thursday of November (this is for my overseas friends who may not be fully knowledgeable of the subject). It is the holiday where we Americans give Thanks to God for giving us BIG tasty birds, punkin pie & cranberry sauce...all courtesy of a tribe that we soon took great pains to wipe out. In short, when those Pilgrims (essentially English religious nuts) 1st landed at Plymouth Rock, they didn't have a CLUE what they were doing or what they were in for!

After that 1st winter (what do you mean "No Central Heating"???), most of the Pilgrims had died off. A few hearty ones remained (probably by eating the others...but that story seems to have vanished in the annals of history) and it was looking bleak for them, as they didn't know SQUAT about farming North American soil. Luckily, the Indians (bite me, I will NOT be PC) took pity on them, showed them what to do and the Pilgrims survived. They did sooo well, in fact, they had a big feast and invited the Indians. When the Indians showed up, they realized that white folks are either really bad at planning feasts or are just stingy, so they sent some braves to go kill a half dozen or so deer....gotta make sure ya don't leave the table unless yer ready to burst....STILL an American Thanksgivus tradition. NOWHERE on the menu was green bean casserole....PLEASE make note of that! (the Americans reading this will get the humor)

Finally, sometime in the 19th century, after decades of confusion as to what this "New England" holiday was and when it was supposed to be observed, some mad woman wrote everyone in the colonies suggesting the last Thursday in November...just in time to mark the start of Xmas shopping season!

Now, contrary to what some of my English colleagues have been lead to believe, Thanksgivus is NOT the American Xmas. Trust me, NO ONE on this planet overdoes Xmas like the Americans! Here it is, the Sunday BEFORE Thanksgivus and I'm looking out my front door at my neighbor's Xmas lights! 1 month 5 days before we celebrate the Man's b-day (even though we have the date wrong)...1 month 5 days of looking at those damned lights! Don't get me wrong, I love the holidays as much if not more than most people...but I like things to be done for the right reasons...not just to be the 1st, best or brashest.

For the holidays, I wish you all peace, happiness and a full belly. May your homes be filled with laughter (and not just the canned version coming from your TV). May your pockets never be empty, maybe your fridge always be full (with at least 1 6pack of decent beer...in case I should stop by lol) and may your troubles be few & far between.

In fact, I don't just wish you these things for the holidays...I wish them for you all EVERYDAY.

I'm having a few friends over (as usual) this year for Thanksgivus. It might not be the fanciest dinner but I hope to guarantee all a good meal, a full belly and someplace to sit and digest and enjoy some good company after (and before...as long as they stay OUTTA MY WAY in the kitchen...Chris...take note).

We will revel in the death of a turkey. We shall take delight in the taters, which will be mashed. The rolls will hopefully not be slightly burned on the bottoms...but if they are, that's what butter, gravy & butter knives are for! The veggies will be plentiful and not overcooked. The pie will be chocolate cream...NOT PUNKIN! (my tradition...not yours, OK? ) And yes Virginia...there will most likely be cranberries of some sort...JUST NO DAMNED GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE...PLEASE!

Facebook or Malachai?

Dear Facebook,

I see that you've added yet another wonderful feature (the sort option). Oh joy. Yes, I'm being facetious. Actually, the sort option is nice but...always a but...be careful. Your continual adding of unwanted features and your incessant need for change can and most likely cost you in the long run. You're not the first social networking site and you won't be the last. Remember MySpace?

Once upon a time, MySpace was IT! Everyone had a MySpace page. People were hooked! They could interact with their friends, post their status, share pictures and videos with their friends (real or imagined), post "bulletins", etc. One can still do all of that on MySpace...but really, who goes there these days?

Myspace essentially shot itself in the foot. It kept adding, changing, getting slower, more and more hackers hopped on board, and its finally to the point where when I try to check in on my band's page, MySpace tells me I need to upgrade to a different browser to "enjoy" my MySpace experience. That's kind of like telling me I can only check my voicemail from the latest I-Phone.

MySpace has become the Children of the Corn of social networking sites. Its become a veritable ghost town, inhabited only by creepy children who think they're in charge. Little do they know...they're being controlled by the media devils.

So dear Facebooger...do you want faithful happy users...or do you want this?



The choice is yours....


MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Life's midsized ups and downs...

I worked Halloween night and have to say, it was a blast. I had another indoor office cookout for my clients (I work in the mental health field for those that don't know) and we all had a blast! Hot dogs on the Foreman grill, chips, pop and of course, tons of Halloween candy! And I did it all on a budget! Gotta love the dollar store! LOL Speaking of which, I picked up the most awesome deli style mustard at the dollar store. Nice and spicy...I can't wait to try it on leftover ham on marble rye! (I guess this means I will have to cook a ham at some point). For you mustard lovers out there, the brand is Koop's (deli style). I highly recommend it!

After working a 10 hour night shift, we had a mandatory staff meeting in the morning. I personally hate these because they tend to be USELESS. Client updates...I'm of the mind that if one is paying attention at work AND reading progress notes, all if this is already known. Everyone usually bickers and banters and whines and whinges. Not what I need to deal with after already working for 10 hours.

This meeting started out the same as usual...but then we got the bomb dropped on us. Effective Decemeber 31, 2011 our program is being shut down. Reason: major funding cuts. And I mean MAJOR! Factor in poor management on my boss' part and we've lost whatever foothold we had. In 24 years in this field, I have never worked in a program that has been SHUT DOWN! This is a professional embarassment to me...but it also says a lot about our current economy.

As if this wasn't bad enough, my car died on the way to work last night. I had just left the house and the car seemed fine. Then all of a sudden, like a scene from a sci fi flick, the car just went dead. Engine quit (quietly...no choking or sputtering), lights went out, radio, everything. I coasted to the curb and tried to see if it would start but...ZILCH. NADA. Not even a click. Probably one of those damned pain in the butt sensors that the auto industry puts in just to make the average joe (or josephine) have to spend money. Gotta boost the economy somehow! LOL
So a I walked to the store, called a cab and got to work 30 minutes late (a 1st for me!).

While all may sound glum, I'm choosing to be positive about this. I was planning on going back to school in January anyway, so this will actually make it easier for me. Working nights and going to school full time was going to be a strain...so this should work out nicely. Plus, I get to take all of my accrued paid time off with me, so I'll be leaving with an extra couple of grand. And I'll have time (hopefully) to go back to playing music again! I'm not thrilled about having to rely on it for a living but I've done it before, so what the heck.

Also, an old friend and former co-worker just hipped me on to an agency she's been working at part-time. (Thanks Michele!) I was looking at their web site and it looks right up my alley. And the bulk of the shifts are 3-11, so that will fit in nicely with my schooling!

All I have to do now is wait to see how much the car repair is going to set me back. I love my Olds...really. But I may have to accept the fact that it may be time to get a new(er) car. The Olds has been good to me. I've driven that car all over the eastern half of the US and it really has never given me much trouble. But in the past few months it's needed a freeze plug replaced, a new radiator, and now this. It may be time. But...we'll see. I've already talked to a dealership and they're willing to get me financing (even with my dubious credit history! LOL $80k hospital bill be damned!)

See! Even at the worst, one can find something to be positive about! Worst case scenario, I go on unemployment. I've never had an unemployment check in my life and I've been working since I was 14. I may be OK with sitting on my ass (doing homework lol) and getting paid for it.

The holidays are coming up...so lets all be good to ourselves!

Roger. Wilco. Over & out! End of transmission.....

In This Day & Age????

Is there some planetary alignment that I'm unaware of or have been people been regressing at the speed of light lately?

Case in point: An old friend of mine who I've know since childhood, had a prospective client storm out of his office today when he found out that my friend is black. Even more ludicrous, this potential client was also black. Everybody say it with me...WTF????? In this day and age, does a person's race still mean anything to anyone other than that person?

I've known, befriended, been romantically involved with and worked with people of all races in my 45 years and you know what I've learned from that? People are people. I've been fortunate enough to have traveled around the globe and once again, people are just people. But this doesn't end here.

Another friend, who is also black (or African American or Negro or Person of Color or whatever the politically correct term is this week), has been dealing with a similar issue. My friend, while discussing something with a colleague, had to hear this colleague (a white guy from Idaho) use the word "nigger". My friend was mature enough to not slap the stupid off of this guy's face but in discussing it with my friend last night, I know that it deeply effected my friend.

Now at this point I'm sure many of you are feeling riled up and you should be. But allow me to paint the picture more. My friend in the previous paragraph is also gay. A drag queen by trade. Transgendered if you will. The colleague in question is also gay and a drag queen. I'm sure some of you are now concentrating more on these bits of information than the heart of the problem. Trust me, it's nothing I haven't heard before. "Metzger...why are you hanging out with drag queens? or gay folks? or...or..."

I'm blessed to have the type of mindset that doesn't see color. Nor do I see sexual orientation nor religion nor societal status. I see people. Males & females. I see some people who feel they are one but born another. I don't see this as "odd". I just see them as people. And as such, they are worthy of civility and a modicum of respect. But the bottom line is, people are people.

What is it in the human makeup that makes us think that any one group is superior to another? Sure, there may be aesthetic differences such as skin, hair and eye color...but so what? We may pray differently (if at all) but God is God. You may call him by a different name than I do but it doesn't change the fact that God is God.

A person may be attracted to different people than you are. This world has heterosexuals, bisexuals and homosexuals. Again...big deal! I think it's fair to say that all of us, at some time or another in our lives will want the same things: love, romance, intimacy, companionship...and who's to say whether we should or should not want it with whom we want it with? I'd be willing to bet that there are more freaky normal people anyone suspects. If I were to ask each of you your deepest fantasies, I bet most would fall outside of the so-called norm.

This world is made up of an endless myriad of different types of people...and for that we should be thankful. Rather than looking for the differences, why not look at the similarities. There are tall people. There are short people. Fat..skinny...beautiful...ugly...a lot of these are relative terms. Why not take a moment now and then and try to see the world through the eyes of another. View yourself through other's eyes. I think it might make you think a bit harder about how you react to things.

Remember, your opinion is important only to you. If someone shares it, fine. If someone doesn't, that should be fine too. But why discriminate against a person because they are merely who they are? Doing so limits your own experience in life and you end up missing out on a lot that way.

I'm lucky to know all of the people that I know. Of all colors, religions, genders, sexual orientations, etc. Each one makes my world that much more interesting and for that, I am thankful to know each and every person I know. Like my mother used to say, if everyone was the same...just think how boring this world would be.

Racism, in this day and age??? Really??????

You really can't go back...

I spent the past two days in northeast Ohio (where I lived in the second half of the eighties). My time there was personally turbulent but never anything less than interesting (in retrospect).

It's been 21 years since I left there. If I hadn't, I probably would've drank myself to death...period. In the little area I lived in, there were 88 bars (back in the day) and not much else to do. I can tell you, I was drunk in every single one of those bars at one point or other.

To paraphrase Thomas Wolfe, you really can't go back. Just being back where I used to live felt, if nothing else, surreal. I described it to a friend there thusly: "It's like being somewhere you've never been but knowing where everything is". Everything changes...which is probably a good thing...but it was disconcerting to me just how much things had changed. Familiar storefronts bore strange names. The people in the streets looked different. Lots of my friends are gone, and those remaining had been replaced with older, more 'grown up', versions of themselves...for the most part.

For some reason, every hotel room in town was booked up, so I had to go a few miles north to get a room. Even the little town of Strasburg had changed. In short, it made me sad. Like a houseplant left untended, the places of my memories had withered, died and been replaced. I almost felt responsible. I momentarily wondered if I had stayed, would all of the old places and friends still be there? Most likely not...but it was just one of those odd moments that I have all too frequently these days.

But as the day progressed, I accepted the inevitability of change and while listening to a friend discussing some upcoming changes in town, I also realized the necessity of it all. It brought to mind a quote by Anatole France:

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

(See! I DID pay attention in college!)

After a longer than usual drive back home, thanks to nonstop rain and some typically slow Ohio drivers, I'm back in my humble hovel and thinking of the changes that have happened to me over the years. I would have to say that I'm a nicer person than I used to be. I don't carry the anger that I used to.

I mentally envisioned the me of today with the me of 21 years ago. Aside from the obvious changes...hair, weight, wrinkles...its almost like two different people. That said, I find myself willing to embrace future changes. As I've grown older and hopefully wiser, I see the inevitable changes in life as adventures...and I'm always up for an adventure. I just usually need a nap before embarking on them now.

The funniest change, at least to me, was in my old neighborhood. I made the familiar left turn onto Ray Ave., drove past my old apartment and on up to the end of the street, where stands a very tiny cow pasture. I used to walk up to see the solitary cow that resided there almost daily. It always struck me as odd that a mere block from my apartment was a cow pasture.

I drove up, stopped the car...and there to my surprise were two cows. Still as lazy as ever, just laying around, but looking content and unbothered by all of the changes going on around them...

I cried today...

Yep...I cried. I'm man enough to admit it.

If you're wondering why (and since you're reading this, I'll assume you do), I'll tell ya. One of my oldest and dearest friends lost his son over the weekend. My friend is obviously devastated. For once in my life, I'm at a loss as to what to say...if anything. I want so bad to be there for my friend, to try to find a way to comfort him. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain and sorrow he is feeling.

It's long been said that its not the natural order of things for a parent to outlive their children. I agree with that. Ever since I found out about my friend's son's passing over the weekend, I've been trying to figure out just what part of God's plan this could be. That's my nature. I figure things out. It's what I do. But this...I have no clue. I'll leave this in God's hands. Its how my faith works.

In an effort to comfort my friend, I offered some verses from the Bible. While I am an ordained minister, my faith has been in question for a while now. As I looked for the right verses and scriptures, I found myself crying. I looked through the Book of Psalms, Luke, Matthew and Ecclesiastes, I found the words I wanted to say. My tears kept flowing. I felt my faith strengthen.

I couldn't recall just exactly what my friend's faith, if any, was...but I hoped that at the very least, he would appreciate the gesture and gain some peace, comfort and strength from the verses. I sent it to his inbox and moments later heard from my friend. I've known this guy for over 30 years. The only time I ever recall him crying was when he thought I was going to die (a story for another day). It breaks my heart minute after minute to think what he's going through...or what any parent who has lost a child must go through. And my tears kept flowing.

I'll be doing everything I can to make it to Ohio tomorrow to be with my friend and his family. There have been many times in my life that they have been there for me. My friend and I have gone through a lot together over the years...good and bad...and sometimes just plain old weird.

I remember his son as a baby. I remember him as a toddler, wobbling around on the floor. I remember him as a child. The last time I saw him, he was a young man. Tall and strong like his dad. He was always a smart kid...smarter than he ever let on. He had a great smile and a great laugh. I also remember practically pleading with his parents NOT to name him "Duncan"! (let's be serious...all of the other kids would have called him "donut" or "yoyo")

Last Thursday, the day before he passed, I thought about him out of the blue. I was surfing the internet and killing time before work and I remembered how as a wee child, he refered to rockabilly music as "rockaberry". I remember how that would just crack his dad & I up. As I thought about this, and other pleasant memories, I posted "rockaberry" on my friend's Facebook page, along with a comment about how amazed I am at the silly stuff I can still remember (despite my brain damage). Less than 48 hours later I received the tragic news.

For the past few hours, my eyes keep tearing up. I'm OK with it. There was a time that I'd never let anyone see me cry or know that I was capable of it. Always too much of a tough guy or the eternal clown. But today, I cried. And I'm sure before this week is out, I will cry many, many more times. I will cry over a young man losing his life way too early. I will cry over the pain and sorrow his parents, family and friends will feel. I will cry at the heartache his fiancee will endure. I will also cry at my own foolishness. My damned German stoicism. My ever questioning my faith.

In shedding these tears, I believe that some light has been shed on the answer I was looking for: Perhaps some people are taken from us to remind us of just what is truly important in life. We all too easily get caught up with inconsequential bullshit that in the heat of the moment seems so damned important. Perhaps this is a reminder, a wake up call if you will, of what is truly important in all of our lives.

Rest In Peace Shane Donald James Robinson. The world was a better place for you having been in it, and its a sadder place with you gone.

Ten Years Later

I still miss you almost as much as I still love you. You visit me often in my dreams...and I listen, or at least try to. The world still has so much hate. And worse, people are even more self-important than ever. I cry to think that your death was for nothing. No one learned anything.

I'm sitting here thinking of your smile, your laugh, your touch. The pain is still great but ten years later, its easing up a bit. Its being replaced with sad but sweet memories. I remember the day in the park when you were sewing up my favorite shirt and I was playing guitar. My car died in front of your house that night. I guess it was just another one of those signs that we were supposed to be, if at least for a little while. You were always so proud of the little accomplishments I made in life. More proud than I was. The look in your eyes when you would tell me how proud you were...the thought of it still leaves me paralyzed with love.

My mind keeps going back to the moment I fell in love with you. The moment I knew. We were standing on the corner, waiting to cross the street to go get ice cream. It was such a hot day. But there you stood, Amazonian in stature (I know...you always hated when I called you that). You were wearing shorts and that shoulderless top, hair down and your big ol' movie star shades on. I looked over at you and realized you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen...inside and out. Lord knows you had a knack for pissing people off! But if you pissed them off it was because you were right and they were wrong...and they knew it. You were never smug about it. Just very matter of fact.

I remember that first 4th of July together. Parked down by the river, watching the fireworks. I was feeling my typical nationalistic pride and you shot it down with "Home of the free, my ass!". When I asked, somewhat perturbed, just what you meant, you told me. You weren't argumentative. To you, it was as easy as explaining that what goes up must come down. You pointed out how we here are all still slaves. Slaves to corporations, media, and the almighty buck. You pointed out that most of us would probably run screaming from true freedom. You amazed me.

I remember the many times I would be sitting in the basement, drinking and writing songs. You would come down and just watch. Often with a tear in your eye. God, how you loved creativity. I remember everything about you. About us. Its all like it was still going on. Perhaps it is. In my head and heart.

I have big plans for this year. I wish you were here to experience them with me...but you are. We both know that.

I still love you my little petitsa na poby.

Namaste my love.

M

The Money Miser

I'm usually not one to suggest products or suggest against products...unless I think they're really fantastic or utter pieces of crap. Well I'm here to tell ya, the Money Miser Coin Sorter SUCKS ROTTING ZOMBIE ASS!

I've always been frugal...but don't take that as cheap. I work hard for my money and I like to save when/where I can. For the past few years (which from 2007-2010 were really tight), I've always kept a jar on the kitchen table, and when I get home at night (or in the morning as is the case most days) I dump whatever pocket change I have into said jar. I'd usually cash it in at Ye Olde Coinstar machine just before payday...in case I needed gas, lunch money, or just a night on the town. I would usually amass $60 or per month this way.

This past year has been pretty decent financially so around May, I switched to a bigger jar. I hadn't taken anything OUT of the jar since around April. Well, the jar finally got so full (and so heavy I could just about lift it!) that it was either find a BIGGER jar, start a 2nd jar or get busy rolling coins! At this point, I wasn't going to use the old Coinstar. 9% of a few bucks is OK...I don't mind parting with that. But I've got to have around $200 in this jar! I sure as hell ain't giving that up!

So today, I stopped by K-Mart (you know...the other Mart) to see if they had an automated coin sorter thingy. Lo & behold, they did! The Money Miser Coin Sorter. It appeared to be just what I needed. At $12, it seemed reasonably priced and I figured how crappy could it really be...

Alas, I found out just how crappy it is. I should've been tipped off when it didn't include at least a cheap set of C batteries. But OK...batteries are cheap and I always need batteries so what the heck...I picked some up. I grabbed some extra coin rolls too. I then stopped off for dinner (mmmmmmmm pork chops) and came home a went about rolling coins.

The directions stated that no more than 10 coins should be dumped in at one time (to prevent jamming). Makes sense to me. So I grabbed a few coins and dumped em in. Whrrrrrrrr went the motor and the coins were sent to their respective slots. I got $126.50 and some change through my jar (still only half empty!) and suddenly the Money Miser conks out on me. I removed all coins and checked to see if there was a jam. Nope. Nothing visible. I then checked the batteries. I figured they SHOULD last at least 30 minutes but hey...some things eat batteries, so I changed them. Still bupkiss. Zilch. Nada. Not a damned thing happening.

Soooooo, first thing tomorrow the Money Miser is being returned (always save those receipts kids!). As I didn't see a better model in the store, I'll be getting my money back. At which point I will go in search of a more efficient coin sorter. Trader Horn here I come! LOL (I never should have ever stepped into that place...I've been waiting for an excuse to go back there!)

So, if you should be in need of an automated coin sorter, AVOID the Money Miser. It's a pure-D piece-O-CRAP! Worthless!

This Public Service Message brought to you by me...a cranky ol' penny pincher! LOL

Reach Out! (your arms ARE long enough!)

With all of the bad news we regularly hear about politics, the economy, the weather, etc. sometimes we have to ignore it all and get back to basics. And by that, I mean being GOOD to each other.

This week has been a bit unusual for me. I'm a man of limited means & my car broke down. Its looking to be an expensive fix. But I will handle that, as I have everything else thrown my way, in its own time. I have a good and more importantly, HONEST mechanic (Shout out to Sam Sr. & Sam Jr. @ Glenshaw Auto!). They've never let me down in 15+ years!

But also this week, I've been trying to help 2 friends. One, who is in a world of emotional hurt. Her life is facing some immediate and definitely tough challenges. She often doesn't realize just how strong she is. She's faced some big challenges in the past and has always managed to surmount them. She is facing being homeless within the next few days. My heart goes out to her. She's at the end of her rope and finding it beginning to fray. She needs help. I've tried to give her the help that I can and have made suggestions as to other help. I pray that she finds it. She's a good gal. I also hope that I've made the right suggestions to her. But at the very least, I've tried to be there for her. I can't coddle her...she doesn't need that. It's a tough time for her and she needs to be tough herself right now! God Bless you KB!

Another friend is in jail. Has been since May. This friend is having a very tough time of it. Luckily, the jail my friend is in participates in a service called 4inmates.com. It's a way for friends and loved ones to email inmates, set up commissary accounts, etc. I was surprised to find out that I'm the only one of this person's friends/family to reach out to do this. My friend has been alone in jail for 2 months! I'm now writing every day and just recently opened a commissary account so my friend can have a snack or soda when they want. Really, its the little things that make life bearable. My friend could possibly be in jail until December. Possibly longer. Imagine not being able to have a snack or a soda for 6 months or not hearing from friends or loved ones. How well do you think that YOU would hold up?

I know life is tough for all of us right now. But for some, it is even tougher. Please, take the time to reach out to those in need. Like the old saying goes, there but for the grace of God goes I.

Be good to each other. Let's show the world that good can still conquer evil.

The Talking Dog

Really now, who wouldn't love a talking dog? So unique! A wonder! A mystery! But after a while, the novelty would probably wear off and you'd still have to feed it, take care of it, and clean up it's crap.

But what about the talking dog? How would it feel? Sure, it would probably enjoy the attention...at first. But you'd think that all of the hullabaloo would become tiresome after a while. And talk about lonely! Other dogs would probably be standoffish...considering that a talking dog is somewhat a freak of nature. Oh yeah...and since the normal dogs can't talk, there would be a definite communication barrier.

At what point, if any, would the talking dog feel normal...or at least at home? How would the talking dog differentiate between friends and curiosity seekers? How would the talking dog know who to trust?

Mind you, being a talking dog could be an amazing thing. The talking dog would presumably have insights to the dog world. The talking dog could explain the mysterious bond between humans and dogs that existed since prehistoric times. The talking dog could teach us all a new trick or two I'm sure!

But at what cost to the talking dog? My mind keeps thinking how miserable it would be to be that alone. Imagine being the only one of your kind. A true minority! How would that feel? I'm sure that at some point in all of our lives, we've all felt different or unique or felt like an outsider...but are we really? The answer would have to be no. None of us are ever so removed from society that we cannot find someone else who can relate. None of us will ever be talking dogs. And to that I say "WOOF!" (dog for "YAY!").

Some thoughts on suicide/self-destruction...

Allow me to preface this by saying I felt compelled to write it. I posted on my Facebook page my thoughts on Amy Winehouse's untimely death. I posted that I cannot shed a tear for someone who pisses away a beautiful life. All life is beautiful. Sadly, not everyone is able to realize this. My sister sent me a text today asking questions about my thoughts on this, so I felt the need to clarify a bit.

Yes. There are some folks out there who feel so completely overwhelmed and alone that they opt for suicide. There are others who for whatever reasons, opt for slow self-destruction. Some are born with highly addictive natures. Just add chemicals and BAM! you have an addict. And let me tell you, addictions are hell.

None of this changes my thoughts...and I'll tell you why. I fall into all of the categories above and guess what? I've survived. Am I stronger than most? God, I hope not because most days I see my weaknesses at the forefront.

I first tried to commit suicide at age 4. It was an impulse. A few half-assed attempts followed. After my mother died when I was 13, the impulses got stronger...plus my impulses for self-destructive behavior became stronger. Alcohol, drugs, smoking, eating crap food, unsafe sex,fighting, weapons, you name it. At age 15 I was expelled from school for carrying a concealed weapon (a straight razor). As part of my probation, I was court ordered into outpatient psychiatric care until age 18. I can tell you, it did nothing to stave off the impulses. I moved from pot to amphetamines (pharmaceutical grade, not the crap home-made stuff or caffeine pills). I also drank every chance I got. I scared the hell out of my shrink. One day I showed him just how I capable I was at fooling everyone around me. It took me an hour to convince him NOT to hospitalize me.

After I turned 18, I pretty much gave up drugs (except beer). I still fought all the time. I still would sleep with damned near anyone with a pulse. I liked to drive fast. I used to play a game where I would jam my foot on the gas pedal and see if I would hit anything. The suicidal impulses were still as strong as ever. One night, this particular game led to me crashing my car @ 120mph into the back of a parked garbage truck. I walked away with a few cuts and bruises. I was extremely lucky. When I saw the inside of my car a few days later when I got out of the hospital, I saw that my legs had shattered the dash, my chest knocked the steering wheel off and through the windshield and my mouth had broke the rearview mirror in half. All of this led to a spiritual awakening in me. I realized that I was here for some reason.

I've lived with depression for 45 years. For all I know, it could be genetic. My maternal grandmother was a depressive who took her own life. What I HAVE learned, in my case at least, is that these are suicidal impulses. I can choose to follow them or ignore them. It took a looooooong time to understand that.

In my mid 20s, I discovered cocaine. Now that was my kinda drug! By age 30 I thought it was behind me. I was wrong. My depression hung in there as did my suicidal impulses. I'd started to mellow a bit in my self-destructive nature, but not much.

At 34 I was diagnosed with skin cancer. I beat it thoroughly but it brought on a bad depression. Life was starting to look up for me by my mid 30s when due to what I call The Great Nashville Beef Incident, I ended up in a coma for a week and lost large chunks of memory. It took me over a year to be able to balance my own checkbook again! I ended up in an extremely deep depression. But no one ever really knew because I chose NOT to let them know. I can be very convincing when I want to be.

By 40, I had been around the world, was self-employed and had the world by the short hairs. Then the depression got worse. My business started to fall apart thanks in large part to the Bush funding cuts. Rather than just move on to bigger and better things, I dove back into my old friend cocaine. I was dropping a grand a month and was taking someone else down with me.

To add insult to injury, I was no longer able to sleep. I'd long been an insomniac (years of caffeinated beverages plus other chemicals will do that to you) but this was really bad. I was averaging 20 non-consecutive minutes per day. This went on for 6 weeks.

Finally, I fell apart. Complete breakdown. I was raving. Luckily, a friend who has known me for ages, saw the mess I was in and called an ambulance. The police came and took me to Western Psych. Luckily, while there they discovered part of the reason for my sleep problems: my serotonin levels were all out of whack from the coma! Modern pharmacology to the rescue! I was placed on time released antidepressants and sent on my way. I saw my therapist religiously every week. I went home and flushed a few hundred dollars worth of coke and poured all of my booze down the drain. Then I attempted to go about salvaging the relationships in my life. I've done pretty well with that.

After 6 weeks, I developed tremors in my arm from the antidepressants and had to stop taking them. My doc wanted to try some others but not being OK with the thought of having a seizure, I opted to go without. It's been 5 years. And I'm still OK! Since then, I suffered a massive heart attack and another bout of cancer...both of which I've beaten.

I still haven't completely kicked all of my bad habits. I still smoke (and still keep trying to quit!) and will still have a few beers now and then. I'm in a relatively stable relationship...and God only knows how she puts up with me! I try to take care of myself. Some days are better than others. Just like anyone else.

I still get depressed now and then. I still get the suicidal impulses too. But I've learned that they are just that. Impulses. I don't have to give in to them. I still have lots of demons in my head too. These are called painful memories. Some too painful to ever discuss. With anyone. But I've learned that I can either allow them to rule my life or relegate them to the status of just one more thing to deal with. I've opted for the latter.

Every day I'm thankful to still be here. By all rights I shouldn't be. I have lots of things that I want to do. I like making plans...even if they don't always turn out.

To ANYONE who has been touched by suicide, self-destructive behavior, etc...remember: its not YOUR fault. If there is someone in your life that you care about at all who fits one of these categories, get them help. I can tell you, they WILL be angry with you for a while. But they WILL get over it. And they will eventually thank you. If they are sick and not getting better, get them better help. Not all docs are the same. There's no 'one size fits all'. Some folks just need someone to listen, or to remind them that someone cares. Some need a more structured approach. Some need to be hospitalized, sometimes for long periods of time. Illness is illness, regardless of what part of the body it affects or how visible it is. Never give up.

If you are one of the people living with the daily hell of depression, suicidal thoughts, addiction, etc...GET HELP! I can guarantee you that someone cares alot more than you realize and its a selfish act to destroy the precious life you have. Someone somewhere cares. Losing you will hurt them every bit as much as the pain you feel on a daily basis. So please, get the help you need. I'll help you if I can. If I can't, I'll help you find the right help. As my auntie used to tell me often, "Don't do anything stupid". You DO have choices. Choose to be happy.

Review: T-Model Ford @ Thunderbird Cafe 7/21/11

If you're unfamiliar with T-Model Ford, shame on you! T-Model is one of the last great Mississippi hill country bluesmen. If you enjoy the likes of R.L. Burnside or Junior Kimbrough, you'll dig T-Model Ford. The man has seen a lot in his 91 (yes! 91 years!) years. Married 5 times, in jail a bunch more and even spent time on a chain gang. He KNOWS the blues! He didn't even start playing guitar until he was 58. His then wife gave him a guitar and amp as a 'parting gift'. (someone obviously watched too many game shows!)

On to the show!

It was an oppressively hot night in Pittsburgh and the A/C at the Thunderbird did it's best to battle the heat. It was a losing battle. I think T-Model Ford made the room even hotter with his authentic Mississippi blues! And believe it or not, there were even a few black folks at the show! Not many but mind you, the Pittsburgh blues crowd seems to be made up mostly of aging white folks these days.

John & Rick from the Pawnbrokers (local blues band) opened up with some electric country blues...guitar, vocals, harmonica and did a nice job. But the crowd was there for one reason and one reason only; to see T-Model Ford!

T-Model was accompanied by an odd twosome. Drummer Martin Reinsel (of the band Gravel Road) & singer/guitarist Margaret Light. The best reason I can guess why these two were allowed onstage was because they drove. The soundman finally buried Ms. Light's guitar so deep down in the mix as to be barely audible...the only thing he did right (in my opinion) the entire night. Mr. Reinsel's drums were unbearably loud...and that was also the opinion of my good friend and top notch drummer, Jim Bleyer! The other phrase I heard bandied about regarding the duo of Reinsel & Light was "disrespectful". They didn't seem to realize that they were backing someone else. Ms. Light just noodled on the guitar and Mr. Reinsel just flailed at his drums...attempting to copy the style of Cedric Burnside...but failing miserably. This white kid with the hipster beard just was not getting the groove. Alas, heat affected T-Model's tuning for the 1st half of the show. Any guitarist out there knows the story: Hot, humid night = stretchy guitar strings. Lots of onstage tuning...which may also have been affected by the "backing band's" lack of skills. But in the 2nd set, T-Model really came to life!

After a brief break (spent onstage), T-Model and Co. treated us to a lively set of deep groove, Mississippi blues. Now THIS was what I came to see! Songs like Sally Mae, Big Boss Man, My Babe, a different version of Chicken Head Man than I'm used to...man, it was awesome! Like I said, the sound man relegated Ms. Light's guitar to the quietest part of the mix and Mr. Reinsel appeared to restrain himself a bit and actually on a few occasions found the groove! Personally, I would have been happier had T-Model asked the young white hipster kids 'backing' him to just go sit down somewhere and let him just play solo...but as I found post-show, T-Model is far too friendly and polite (in a blunt, rural way) to do such a thing.

Speaking of post show, I got to talk briefly with T-Model after the show. Man is he cool! Thanks to my friend Daisy Holzapfel for snapping a few pics. All the ones I took turned out like crap (Note to self: buy new digital camera).

T-Model was a genuine, outgoing kinda guy. Really easy to talk to. You could tell he is really enjoying his later-in-life fame. He and I talked about guitar playing and he has invited me to Mississippi to come visit and play some! He even gave me directions to his house! I'm going to attempt to clear some time next month for a trip down south! I can also say that I got to share a drink with the man. T-Model still, at age 91, likes his whiskey (although he doesn't allow himself the pleasure often)and I was honored to buy him a double shot of Jack Daniels.

Big thanks to Danny Auerbach (of The Black Keys) for introducing me to T-Model Ford's music years ago. Danny used to open for me in Akron with his former band The Barn Burners. I think we all know just how well he's done since!

Don't let this review keep you from going to see T-Model. As a musician I can tell you, there are a lot of factors that go on to decide how good a show is. Like I stated, the heat and humidity were oppressive and it can be difficult to drive all day in that heat and then go onstage and play a show. Luckily, the crowd at the Thunderbird knows this and were all stoked for the show! And like I said, even though the start of the show was a tad rough, T-Model Ford came through like a pro! It's not often that one gets the privilege of seeing a legend perform. This show was one of those few. Thank you Mr. Ford for a great performance! I hope to see at least a few more from you!

And a time to vent...

For the most part, I enjoy my job. I am blessed to work with some truly unique clients. I work long, crappy hours for not much money. I work in the mental health field...a career choice only for those insane enough themselves to want to do it.

I'm lucky that in this horrendous economy, I even have a job!

But...I'm seriously thinking it may be time to walk. My boss, who tends towards occasional bursts of downright idiocy, has hired some of the most useless lumps of human waste I've ever met. The one couldn't wait to start using her paid time off. She now abuses it. 2 of the others fight with everyone in the building...except me. They both learned better their 1st week.

My boss is African. Than in itself is no problem. The problem I do see is her choice to keep hiring more Africans, even though the ones she hires seem to have zero qualifications. Favoritism much? Now the one gets to make her own schedule and every one else's. She is doing a LOUSY job of it. The newest one...has developed a dangerous habit of phoning me on my days off. This is not going to end well.

My plan to date has been to stay there for at least 2 more years while I go back to school. I'm now thinking I may just look for another job and try to find one to fit around my school schedule (once I start). Mind you, I'll stick with it at the Ha Ha Hacienda provided I can sort out the crap. But really...all of my files were just recently rearranged. I had them neatly in alphabetic order. Now, it seems that the alphabet starts with P and then goes to J then to B and so on...I'm a cranky mofo!

OK...just needed to vent. I feel better now. Maybe my meds are kicking in....

Modern American Slavery

My mother always taught me to be an individual; to be myself. I've always tried to follow that advice. I definitely dance to the beat of my own drum!

But how many of us can honestly say this? Many of us like to think we're unique and individualistic but in reality most are slaves to conformity. You may think you're doing your own thing but are you?

Corporations, the media, and even the government keep you enslaved. And they do it without you even noticing.

Look at advertising. In urban neighborhoods, you'll see more advertisements for Newport and/or Kool cigarettes than Marlboros. In short, the cigarette companies are telling YOU what to smoke. Put on daytime television. Now there's some amazing advertising! Put on a show like Jerry Springer or Maury. Then watch the ads. You'll see lots of commercials for vocational schools. In short, your being told what your jobs will be. Sure, it could be said that the advertisers are merely reaching out for their target audience...but is that the case or are people being subconsciously told what to do?

Now let's look at social groups. Ever been to a gay bar? You'll hear some of the worst music in the world there...repetitive, senseless, electronic crap. Ever wonder who decided to play that music? Sure...it may be good to dance to...but there's a lot of other music out there. Same with straight bars. You'll hear predictable crap there too. Again, ever wonder who decides what songs are 'hits'? Simple. Corporations do. Investigate who owns the major record labels. You might be surprised. And if you think a 'hit' is based on sales...think again. Gold/platinum records are not based on sales. They're based on units shipped. Shipped...not sold. Do you want a hit record? Ship 1 million copies to record stores. Fudge your download numbers. It's not that difficult. In short, you're being told what to listen to.

OK kids...look at how you dress. Who decides that? I was Xmas shopping a few years ago and saw a kid dressed exactly like I used to 30 years ago! Mohawk, black trench coat, punk rock buttons all over it. I looked at him and started laughing. He tried to act tough until I pointed out that he was a clone of ME from 30 years past! His dad or whoever the other "old fart" in line and I shared a good laugh. The kid looked completely deflated. Like a certain style of music? You better dress the part! Get your Doc Martens or creepers or wear your pants halfway down your ass. It's all part of THE UNIFORM! You're a slave!

One could say that I'm stuck with a certain look. The reality is, I dress for comfort. I admittedly have an affinity for black t-shirts, checked shirts, and jeans. I wear whatever tennis shoes I find comfortable. (I actually hate shoes...I'd prefer to wear slippers all of the time...but I too must conform on occasion, regardless of the physical pain it causes me)

I realized some years ago that I was wearing a "uniform". Being a "rockabilly" musician, people expected me to look a certain way. So I went out of my way to change it. You'd be surprised at some of the reactions I got! I actually heard comments like "You can't wear your hair like that!" and "You don't look rockabilly!" It was hilarious! And these people were so serious!

Everything from where you live (or want to live), everything you do (or think you want to do), etc. is decided for you! Believe it or not! We're told what the desirable is. But ask yourself, is it really what YOU want?

Drugs. They're baaaaaaaaad m'kay! But guess what...you're a slave to them too! The government's war on drugs is a joke. The government brings a lot of them in! And then there's the legal drugs. You NEED your coffee, your Coke/Pepsi/Mt. Dew! The TV tells you about all the new medications that you just might need (and you will probably convince yourself and your doc that you need them!).

Food. This is good for you. This is bad for you. No wait...its good for you. No, wait... When I was a kid, butter and eggs were considered bad for you. Now they're not. What we have forgotten is that as long as we eat a relatively healthy diet, and in moderation, we're OK! But we need QUICK! FAST! IMMEDIATE! Load it up with chemicals we can't even pronounce! We'll eat it...because we're told to.

And meal times...you do realize that they are based around WORK. You eat breakfast to fuel yourself up for the workday. You eat lunch as a brief refueling...then dinner when you get home. But in reality...your body doesn't like this! Your body would prefer numerous smaller meals throughout the day. Don't believe me? Look it up.

See! I just told you what to do!

We're even told what to think. This is very scary! Those that we view as authority figures tell us what to think. It starts by telling us what we want to hear. Then slip in some good old fashioned fear...and voila! Thought control! We hear it enough times and we begin to view it as fact. Even when our own common sense tells us its wrong.

We're all slaves...to someone or some thing...and most of us are completely unaware of it. I guess ignorance really is bliss.

The Liberty of Obediance

I was taking a long walk through my neighborhood the other night and saw this sign. I was admittedly gobsmacked when I saw it. Enough so that I had to take a picture of it just so I could be sure I really saw it. Now, just so you know, I don't live in any kinda of kooky neighborhood. No gangs, no snake handlers, not much of anything really. Shaler Township is a nice, quiet, BORING area. The church posting this sign is technically in Etna...not a particularly exciting area either...unless you count the flood some years back.

The last few days this sign has really bothered me. No, I'm not against "obediance" but obediance to who? God? Sure, all for it. The government and it's agencies on the other hand, I'm all for disobediance. This country has slid a bit too far to the right and is pretty much becoming a third world nation for it.

I take this sign as meaning "OBEY and you'll be left alone". I don't relish that thought one bit. It strikes me as an appeal to this minister's congregation to accept the status quo...don't rock the boat...let those in authority do whatever they need to do to keep everyone safe. Safe from who or what? Maybe I'm paranoid. I've done my fair share of partying...but it seems to me that the only people or groups that WE THE PEOPLE need to fear are governmental in nature. They are the ones creating the mess that we all are in.

Sure, give tax cuts to the rich...the poor will make up the difference. Sure, allow the politicians to give themselves pay raise after pay raise...and pensions for long after they've performed their duties...most often badly.

At what point did our country become a military state? Just today, my girlfiend and I were coming home from dinner and were pulled over. The crime? My girlfriend made a right turn on a YELLOW light. OK, judgement call perhaps...but this cop was WAY out of line! As my girl made the turn, the cop (on his motorcycle) yelled "Hey! What do you think you're doing ASSHOLE?" Yes...the cop called my girl an asshole. Her car was nowhere near his bike. There was very light traffic and I can tell you from watching the whole scene unfold, she turned on a yellow light. Yellow. Sure, she probably should've slowed to a stop rather than make the turn but who among us hasn't done the exact same thing?

As we drove up the street I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the cop turn around. I suggested she pull over as he was coming. She did. He put on his light and pulled into the lot behind us. (a school parking lot) She already had her license and registration, etc. out and ready for him. Was he polite about it? No. He continued speaking to my girlfriend in a rude, insultory tone. When he asked again 'what the hell she thought she was doing' she calmly stated that she had made a right turn on a yellow light. Before she could even finish her sentence, the officer become even angrier and stated that he was planning to let her off with a warning but since she wanted to argue, she would get a ticket instead.

OK, most of us have had traffic tickets before...but come on...this was bullshit.

Had we been obediant little drones and merely "Yes sir"ed and "No sir"ed the officer, he probably wouldn't have given her a ticket. Had I not been in the car, I can only guess the actions he might have suggested! He was really that much of an ass.

Is this the type of America We The People want to live in? What happened to police accountability? Serve and Protect! Who is being served or protected by this type of police behavior? This guy is nothing more than a bully with a badge and a gun and the assumed right to use them.

The Liberty of Obediance? I don't think that's the world I want to live in. Count on me to do everything I can, all the time, to disobey those who think they can control our lives. Because folks...that's what it comes down to. Being controlled. Do you feel the need to be controlled? If so...enjoy the liberties of obediance. You can cower in the shadows like mice. I'd rather be taken down on my feet than live on my knees.

Show Biz 101

Thanks to Tracey and Jim for inspiring this.

So you want to be an entertainer (singer, musician, DJ, comedian, etc...), well good for you. Now that you've decided to reach for this lofty goal, allow me (with 30+ years experience) to clue you to reality.

I don't care what it is in life you hope to achieve...but if YOU don't place a value on YOUR talents, no one else will. Let's face facts, those that 'purchase' in the entertainment industry are not just the patrons in the clubs or those who buy CDs, download mp3s, etc. The REAL purchasers are the club owners, promoters, etc. that YOU essentially work for. So much for that idea of being "self employed". You ALWAYS work for SOMEONE. Unless someone is willing to PAY you for your time, you are an amateur. Not that that's bad. Amateur comes from latin, meaning to do something for the love of it. And that's cool too! But this piece is for those who want to make money from their talents.

Unless you live in an area where you are the only game in town, you're going to have competition. That's normal & healthy. That should push you to be better than your competition. If you're a comedian, you have to be "funnier". If you're a musician, you have to play "better". But remember, these are relative to the crowd you are performing for.

So you've decided that YOU have what it takes to be a star...in your own town, regionally, nationally, or globally. You friends/family think you're THAT good. Well that's dandy. Now you have to convince someone to PAY you...otherwise, you're going to be a very talented and hungry person.

Open mic nights/jam sessions? Great place to try new material. You're not going to make a dime there. But you just MIGHT catch the attention of some people who dig what you're doing. Now the trick is to get those folks into a venue that agrees to pay you.

How do you decide what you're worth? I'd like to think that I'm worth a million dollars a day...but convincing someone else to pay me that much has proved elusive. I HAVE, however, been paid as much as $10k for an hour...so I must be doing something right. Unfortunately, that's proved to be the exception rather than the rule. So how do you figure out what you're worth? Pretty simple actually.

See your "job" as a career. Be willing to put in an 8-12 hour day. You'll spend at least that much working on your material, honing your skills, and trying to find people to pay you to do whatever it is you do. Trust me, you're going to spend A LOT of time doing that! It's rare that someone is going to hunt you down to throw money at you because you can do "your thing". Once you've made a name for yourself, some folks WILL look for you. You may be lucky enough to have an agent to handle that for you...but I can guarantee you, the purchaser is still going to try to get you at a bargain. Let's face it...people are cheap.

So you want to book a performance...yet no one knows who the hell you are or what you do...what next? Be willing to SHOW what you can do. Have a demo tape/cd/dvd...whatever. Be able to back up what you say about yourself with something tangible...press clippings, film clips, etc. What's the old saying? "It's not bragging if it's true" Don't be afraid to tell the truth about yourself. If you just performed for 10,000 people...say so! Whether or not they enjoyed it is relative. Just be able to prove that you did it.

So how much are you worth? Factor in your expenses, plus what you've already spent, plus what it takes for you to survive. If you plan to do, say, 3 performances per week...you'd better be able to live off of that plus put a bit aside to keep from starving. If you're SUPER POPULAR, you'll be able to do this with no problem. But if you're one of the rest of us...you'd better plan ahead.

Now here's the drawback. There are lots of folks out there...some with talent, some without...who are willing to do the same job for free. These folks are called whores. And trust me...there are lots of them. Here's where you'd better be able to convince whoever is looking to purchase talent that YOU are better than the whores. How can you do this? Salesmanship. Learn to talk the talk. Don't put so & so down...that's comes across as petty...and it will bite you in the ass. Remember, there are more starving artists than there are Picassos. Learn to sell your talent as a commodity. If you're new to the biz, learn to bargain...but NEVER do it for free. You better receive SOMETHING for your efforts. To quote Chuck Hughs of the Hillbilly Hellcats' song 'I Hate Music (It Ruined My Life) , "you can die of exposure in less than a day". If you have to, agree to a flat rate versus the money taken in admission. Or agree to the admission price. But make sure you agree to some sort of compensation. Unless you know and trust the person, GET A SIGNED CONTRACT! If the purchaser refuses to sign it, then they've just proven that they cannot be trusted. Ask yourself, would a plumber come and fix your toilet HOPING he/she gets paid? Hell no. They know that they will. Why? Because you've agreed to pay them. You have placed a value on having a functioning toilet and you've placed a value on the plumber's ability to repair/maintain that toilet.

There are no overnight successes...regardless of what you see on TV. No one has ever woke up and become a star without some effort. If its worth doing, its worth doing right. Take the time to do it right. If a purchaser won't pay you...DON'T WORK FOR THEM! Period! If the good acts all refuse to work for someone who doesn't pay, either that person goes out of business or they learn to pay. Simple as that.

So then why are there so many acts out there stuggling? Because they've all been led to believe that have to work for free..."paying their dues" is what they call it. Horseshit. Back in the early 1980s, I never got paid less than $50 per person for a show. Sadly enough, its tough to get that much today! Why? Simple: the whores will do it for free. And purchasers will always gravitate to whores. Who doesn't want 'something for nothing'. Its like "no strings attached" sex. Unfortunately...there is no such thing. That "NSA" sex will leave you with a disease...or an unwanted pregnancy...or a stalker. Fun! Not!

OK, what about doing a benefit show? Sure...if you feel that your interests are being served as well as the purchaser's...by all means do it. There's no shame in giving something to the community. Just don't give all you have. You'll be left with nothing.

I hope this teaches those of you who want to be in "show biz" a lesson. Guess what...everyone you work for is going to try to get you to work for free. That's called slavery. Do you really want to be a slave? I'll tell you from experience that once you've tasted the adoration of the public, it's more addictive than any drug. You will want it MORE & MORE...until you grow sick of it. But usually by then, you're used up. Take the time to do it right. VALUE your OWN abilities...or no one else will.

Give Me Those Shoes!!!!!!!

I love old movies. Way back in the glorious days of B&W, there was at least an attempt to make an original film. Sure...there were sequels (Son of Frankenstein, etc...) but they were usually decent.

So, as yesterday was a dreary, rainy Sunday, I decided to watch John Waters' films on Netflix. At one point during a lecture/documentary, Waters mentioned the film "The Bad Seed". I figure if John Waters is bragging it up, I have to see this movie!

How have I lived 45 years without seeing this movie???????? It was amazing!!!!!! And to think it was filmed in 1956!!!!!!! Wanna know why this movie isn't a household name? (OK, it did receive some recognition)Because when it came out, I can pretty much guarantee ya it was slammed for being too disturbing! Needless to say, I loved every minute of it. The young'un, however, did not. I'll give her credit...she made it through the 1st half hour. Normally she runs screaming when I put on an old B&W movie. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration. She usually just falls asleep. She was raised on a diet of color, fast-paced action flicks and predictable comedies...just like most of her generation. But I keep trying to educate her! LOL

I won't give away the plot for those who have yet to see this masterpiece. Those of us of a certain age will recognize character actors Jesse White (aka The Maytag Repair Man) and Henry Jones (who was in so many TV shows and movies he should have his own channel!). Perry Mason fans will recognize William Hopper. Netflix has a great, clean, digitized copy online. It played without flaw (a rarity for Netflix).

If you like old movies, classic horror, 50s era stuff, or just plain old GREAT MOVIES, watch this. And remember, it carries the John Waters Seal of Approval! If he ever decides to make a remake of it, I want the part of Leroy!!!!!

It's That Time of Year Again!!!!!!!

Yeppers kids! It's almost Mikesmas! And you know what that means!!!!!!!! LOL

And now, a lil something to help you get in the Mikesmas spirit!

'Twas the night before Mikesmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even the cats;
The beercans were flung on the floor without care,
In hopes that a french maid soon would be there;
The cats were nestled all snug in the couch,
While each had visions of fricassied mouse;
some bimbo in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
were each taking turns giving each other the clap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen rain
Gave the lustre of Yuengling to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a 94 Olds, and eight tiny cold beers,
With a little old driver, cute as a tyke,
I knew in a moment it must be Memphis Mike.
More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called me by name;
"Now listen here Fucker! now listen Y'ALL! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
To some crappy dive bar
The site of the ball!
And then I heard tinkling, I heard it on the roof
Someone was pissing, some little goof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Memphis Mike came with a bound.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of beers he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a ciggie he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And drank all the beers; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his Olds, to my bimbo gave a whistle,
And away they flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Mikesmas to all, and to all a good-night."