The Cliff's Notes Version

Maybe it's all very simple:

My job sucks because I'm not my own boss, "I'm surrounded by idiots (-Jack Sternbach, 1919-91)," Do What You Love and the Money Will Follow, One Day at a Time- To Thine Own Self Be True, Take Care of Yourself and Get Plenty of Rest.

(And, in the end, the Love You Take is Equal to the Love You Make.)

We all shine on.

Mess

Especially if (since?..) there are no coincidences, then there's that option to consider- the truth is out there, if I let it find me. That is, I've always been afraid of buying into any negative/fearful viewpoint imposed  upon me by others. I find this a terrifying world, though, and I can't believe that good people are either being punished or suffer or die because they are unenlightened.

I find your advice or comments more "therapeutic" than what I remember or translate from my therapist's- you are right, I have to consider my own reality ("Don't follow leaders, watch the parking meters"), and the "conventional wisdom" is to accept my job as it is while looking for another- which is a full-time job in itself. "Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss.." I hadn't considered until you'd mentioned it that I might be setting myself up by looking for the same job, the same boss, the same trap, with the same resume and the same value system- "Gotta woik! Gotta bring in the bacon!"

I just bought a fantastic capo for my guitar yesterday, cost $40, out of the question with no job and a budget. Just a tiny example of the fear of losing- freedom?...

But I have always hated authority. I always will. I can set my alarm and get up every morning for 50 years, but I will always feel better staying up and sleeping later. These jobs, where I end up feeling dehumanized after attempted castrations on the part of the systems I work for- cost me far more than I earn.

I have to look back in wonder that I am as successful as I am, in fact at all- despite all this. I'm good at my job. But I'm not a company man, a yes man, an assembly line man, a boss's man, anybody's man- I'm too fucking stubborn.

I've always felt I had a specific destiny, like everyone- but not since my childhood or in a long while at lest have I given it much thought what it was supposed to be.

I do know that going from A to B may take you to something other than C- which is a Good thing if it's The right thing. Or A right thing.

I am fed up with the whole thing, including my own words and thoughts- meaning, I am tired, but it's mostly- empty what's left in the coffee cup so you can fill it up again.

I've got 1000 different reactions and emotions and a mess of pollution in the cup- and I'm not sure I'm seeing too clearly yet. But things are clearer than they were last week. Things sufaced. Yes, I had a meltdown. But there was a reason. I've taken a few days off from work to recover from the physical and emotional effects of the meltdown- also trying to detach  at least mentally from the trap.

I'm not so egotistical or self-involved to think that only I go through these or a million other struggles on a daily basis, but I have to solve my own mess before I disappear.

The network administrator at work says she's going through the same issues, but I'm not sure they're exactly the same, and she sure hasn't hit bottom- I think she's one of those people who just "settle" and then live meaningless lives interspersed with a bit of entertainment or escapism.

I still feel like I'm babbling- that's what I mean about wiping the slate. Is this anxiety, compulsion, caffeine, or the truth talking?

In other words- have I presently become "Sturgeon's Law"- 95% bullshit?

And I too now doubt myself- am I self-destructive or too real to fit?

No, I missed Lucinda- did you see her? I liked some of her album- but haven't played it since... Too much noise already in my head. The thought of having some time just to clear out the clutter and see a new light is exhilirating. What songs or drawings are in me? I don't know- I'm not there yet...

Interesting- my music/computer/art/private room looks just like my head- a cluttered mess!

("But I know where everything is!")

Modern times

Star Jones and Donald Trump should have a threesome with Heather Mills in a hot tub filled with my vomit.

Posted at 3:54PM on Mar 16th 2007 by auramac

Ask Mrs. Jeeves

How about "Paperback Riders?"

Or, Mrs. Rick Drops Off The Kids And Goes Shopping..

Well, as my wife agrees, and I discovered a long time ago- even family get-togethers you may look forward to, like certain holidays, are not to be confused with vacations! This trip is gonna be difficult because her uncle (who is a great guy) is sick and very old, and her brother is a pain in the butt. My face will hurt from trying all weekend to look like I'm smiling!

I'm sure she'll be taking the day off from work Monday- I would, too if I had enough time...

I'll have to check out Drome Sound- it was depressing last I looked, but I didn't check out any prices. It was the only place I could get a decent deal on renting two monitors for the last gig, though... Guitar Center doesn't do rentals, and Daddy's Junky is getting junkier..



that's why i got so pissed at rick cause i knew he had nothing to do except give joann give the wknd.off those 2 drunken invalids are useless!...now you have a valid family commitment(i'm sure its no picnic driving to roch. for sick uncle) good luck........i'm sure rick will practice hard during our break! ha!ha! went to drome sound last sat. with russ...new location about the size of a pizza shop...the prices cant be beat(maybe they had that recorder thing you just bought?)...example: epiphone "les paul plus top" beautiful flame top for 369$ musician friend has the same guitar for about 500$ i'm gonna buy one for my son for his birthday(he is 10x better than rick, he reads guitar tab. and plays every nite) i'm starting to think anyone is better than rick ..oh yeah ,i'm commin out of my recording slump...been puttin some good stuff on tape......i'm gonna name one inst. "bob the taxi driver"...

Don't Look Back

I first saw this film the year it was originally released, and it remains one of the most fascinating and life-altering events in my life. The Bob Dylan of 1965-66 was a white-hot supernova that no one would ever touch, including himself. This is a portrait of a sensitive, young genius, who, try as he may, found that having fun or joking through the inanity and misunderstanding that frequently surrounded him quickly gave way to irritation, frustration, sarcasm, and even cruelty. It is easy to see why. I agree that it's sad that this perfect icon of poetry and rebellion existed for such a short, though still eternal, time. Dylan's artistry today remains intact, but in a different form. You could not invent a character in fiction more interesting or inspiring. What a great film! What a great time. As Al Aranowitz, the late, great rock critic once said- "Dylan was (is) the Heavyweight Champion of the World."

Capt. America

Interesting debate that mirrors where we are in America today- security or freedom? Can't we have both?... One of the greatest comics ever created was Avengers #4 in which Stan Lee and Jack Kirby brought back Steve Rogers aka Captain America by thawing him out. It's not just the costume- it's the man! it's not just the symbolism- I lost interest in Green Lantern when Hal Jordan was replaced by a "new" contempory guy wearing his costume. Same for Barry Allen's Flash, though that too had happened before. Someone other than Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent? Out of the question. No, the problem is a creative one- this new crop of comic writers and artists have run out of ideas. And we're all numb- so we have to be shocked into caring about things or buying comics. How about taking what you've got, what's gone before, and using a little talent? What's next- replacing the flag? How about a "new, improved, edgy" constitution? Don't get me wrong- in most areas I'm a complete radical. But traditions matter. Bring back Captain America! But you must also- bring back Steve Rogers, too! No substitutions allowed!

Beyonce and Hoodliham

Hudson can sing, but she's got Star Jones' personality (and pre-lipo shape, not that there's anything wrong with that- except health-wise and aesthetically). She's "deth-pickable!"
Beyonce is like Avis- tried harder- not becoming. Diana Ross peaked when she deferred to the songs and the songwriters- as a solo artist, it was all downhill. Baby Love blows Touch Me in the morning or any other single song in her career out of the universe. Flo was great- but the Supremes was magical as it was. Flo should've cut a solo album, and received the support and encouragement for doing so, than die. But her role in the Supremes was perfect. The Beatles' background vocals too were awe-inspiring. Beyonka and Hoodlison are not in any of their leagues.

Music man

My wife said the same thing- Rick is in effect running the band. And he sucks. In a "passive=aggressive" way- what he (and Bob by association) are doing is trying to get us to go back to Bob's so they can drink or smoke as much as they want. The 4:30 cut-off makes no sense- neither does Rick's continuously saying time goes by so much faster at Greg's. It doesn't go any faster- there's just less of it! D-uh! 4:30 is earlier than 5 or 6!

I don't wanna rock the boat, either- yet- but my wife said I should bring my guitar and ask Rick when he's leaving because the rest of us figured we'd work on some originals when he (they) left. My wife said they wouldn't be leaving at 4:30 again after that.

Of course, I vented further on the subject- pissed that the rules seem to be that this band is dictated to by Rick- when we play, when we stop- and the subtle suggestion from this band that there is no need for me to play any guitar at all whatsoever at any point- acoustic or electric, or even think about doing any originals. Maybe one. Some day.

This absolutely infuriates and frustrates the hell out of me- I'm gonna die someday after spending years playing the same cover shit- over and over again? I don't sit around the house singing cover tunes off of a piece of paper with my hands in my pocket- I'm singing and playing whatever music is in me at the moment. With any instrument I can get my hands on- usually guitar.

My wife agreed that yes, there's value in what I'm doing with this band- but I have to own most of this myself. It's my own fault. She doesn't understand why you and I put up with the Rick-Bob straightjacket, and she mainly doesn't understand why I allow myself to be squelched-  even my ex-wife tells me it's my own fault I'm not in a situation where I am being creative- even if it had to be by myself. I like being in a band- but the irony is that I fight against the same politics at work- fear and conservatism- and way back when- no one told me when or what to draw, write, sing, play, etc. Not my parents, not my teachers, bosses, friends- nobody. What the hell happened to me? I sold (or wimped) out! "It's a secret- I'm a songwriter." I write songs. Totally separate from that- I sing cover tunes in a band that mostly other people agree upon. Even if I like them- it was usually somebody else's idea.

"Take it easyyyyy..."

I knew it- I studied the vocals and verified Rick's been playing the wrong chords.  Whata piece of crap that is- we'd be better off playing Freebird.

(Sorry for the venting... however, it kills me knowing my best stuff is actually never seen or heard nowadays, and I'm having a tough time with that. Not just "original" stuff- the authentic, meaningful stuff. "Take it Easy." Ugh.)

Of course, I don't have to replace the band with the "real stuff"- but I sure as hell have to start doing it, even if it's a separate, side trip, or I'll hate myself. Gettin' tired of making excuses to my wife, ex-wife- and self. (It's not just music- it's also drawing, writing, all the stuff I always used to do to please no one other than myself.)

On a somewhat unrelated note- since we've been playing at Greg's I find I rarely get hoarse or feel ill after practice- thanks to the no-smoking zone!

iPhone spoof on AOL

I get that it's a spoof, a joke, topical, etc. It's a one-joke joke,
however, and I'm not exactly laughing my a** off. It's neither risque
nor tame- just "eh." Or, as I used to say when I was a kid: "eh-eh."
In the words of Bob Dylan, though- "What else can you show me?"

Big deal.

Eh. Eh-eh.