need to do a real update here sometime soon, but I thought it'd be funny to let the friends know that I managed ten days in Guatemala without diarrhea, then fell victim a half hour after we touched down in Louisville.

On a positive note, I think I got the ATL gig I went in for today.

today, I consider myself the luckiest man...

I'd smelled a faint electric burning scent in my control/computer room yesterday. I tried my best to locate the source, but had no luck. I tried turning off various devices in turn to see if the aroma might dissipate, but the scent persisted. This morning, it was even stronger. I tried checking in my computer, thinking the fan may have burned out... no dice... got on my hands and knees one last time to give my nose one more chance and tracked the smell to the general vicinity of my UPS, which didn't seem to be hot, then my hand grazed the power supply of a cd-r drive that I haven't used in four years (it hasn't worked in that long, but had remained plugged in... welcome to my life) and I became suspicious. I flipped it over and found my culprit:



plastic melting, probably a few hours away from burning down my house.

another bullet dodged.

some buildings touch the sky, some never reach twenty-five

god, I miss King.



a lot more a little later...

oh, no

found some old pics and I have a strange feeling I might cut my hair.

a chance to make it good somehow

Too many good days in a row? The "sugar crash" after two nights in the company of the beloved, too distant Liz? For whatever reason, I guess I was due a day where I spent a good portion of the afternoon in bed hating my life, believing in nothing more than the futility of my existence. Still, after a well-played and well-received gig starts stitching me back together, "Born to Run" and "Thunder Road" make me believe, with all my heart, in hope, redemption and a promised land.

happy birthday to we

from the evening's festivities…

open air turns two...

I might write something about this later, but for now I just want to put up the link so's mr. rizzo can find the article.

jerry! jerry! jerry!

Oh, no... well, the realplayer server is choking, but I'm getting a sweet, uninterrupted stream from windows media player (does that sound like a bathroom update?)... damn, I hate it when bill gates' evil products are the only option that works. Guess I'll check out a lil' springer while I get my gym gear on.

no foolin'

I guess it's a positive sign that my greatest disappointment/frustration yet today is that air america's streaming audio server is choking and I can't hear Jerry Springer's debut show. Oh, well... guess I get to the gym earlier.

god hates?

I've come to find that most of the people I know who I'd consider theologically misguided are generally good hearted and most honestly believe that their creed serves a loving, merciful god.

..but some people are scary, scary, scary.

leave a message and I'll call you back

So, what would you call that moment in a phone conversation when it's too close to saying goodbye to make someone wait for you to answer the call waiting but not close enough to wrap things up in time to catch the call before it hits voice mail?

crosstown traffic

ok... so, Bill's having a hard time figuring out how to reply to me over at the livejournal site, sooo... I guess it's easier to post anonymously over here, plus it seems a lil' more, well, adult, so I'll publish what I do over there in this space as well- minus the music and mood tags.

prog rockin'

Funny how, in general, "progressive rock" is, to me, nothing more than a soulless display of finely tuned instrumental technical proficiency that leaves me feeling nothing (and generally, only thinking, "gee those guys practiced a lot"), yet Roundabout or Karn Evil No. 9 come on the radio and I am all about it. Guess a few of 'em figured out the balancing act.

Still, I feel the genius of Van Halen was pairing an absolute freak, out-of-this world, revolutionary technical marvel of a guitar player (who never forgot the value of melody) with what was, in essence, ZZ Top's rhythm section.

...and I continue to be reminded of how much I underestimated David Lee Roth... in every way.

under... those rocks?

So the plan tuesday was that I would take my obligation-free day and use it to make progress toward finishing some recording that's been hanging over my head for, no shit, almost two years now (for the caribbean band with whom I play). My reward would be a visit to Cincinnati thursday (tonight/last night?) to visit a dear friend/sometimes girlfriend who's been terribly missed as of late. As of 8pm, I'd managed only to fill my life with enough meaningless distraction to keep my day recording-free. New plan. I'd take the energy that I pour into whatever neuroses that keep me inert- on the other side of the wall from a healthy, productive life actually spent doing the things I love- and devote it to alcoholism. Rather, or more specifically, I would cultivate an alcoholic life (Which, through some freak genetic accident, I've been spared the disposition) and use my neurotic energy managing said life, not distracting myself.

I put the mac in recording mode, grabbed a rocks glass and poured two fingers of bourbon. I had no ice: the first hint that my alcoholic skills were lacking. Got some ice cubes started (using hot water, of course to speed 'em along), and commenced with recording and bourbon neat. I eventually was able to add rocks, although my attempts at finding a buzz, much less taking my first steps toward my drunken life, were futile. I managed to get guitar tracks for two songs, along with a little editing in said songs' bass and percussion. Didn't manage to continue the habit (recording, not drinking) today, but I've come to find that one of my biggest impediments to starting a task is believing I'm capable of doing the job in the first place. Fingers crossed that I can get around to a lil' more work on the reggae while the memory of my capability (in music, not addiction) is still fresh.

I did allow myself the reward of visiting cinti. Although it's been a long time since I've felt lonely (any lack of companionship over the last month was more due to lack of energy than anything else), it's been a while since I've kissed anyone I've loved, and that likelihood was the real reward I'd allowed myself. If I'd been honest with myself, I'd have known better, and the slightly different beginning of my visit wouldn't have led to me spending too much of the night doing my second-best imitation of a bitch-ass emo high schooler. In any event, the memories that last are of the sheer joy of two clueless louisvillians' wild goose chase of a suitably decent vegetarian meal in downtown cinti.

Other details aside, 48 hours brought two more lessons in finding what I needed by looking for something else. Guess it's just important to keep looking.

oscar necrophilia

I just think it's a shame that Million Dollar Baby won all those Oscars just because Clint Eastwood and Morgan Freeman died. The vital Martin Scorcese has his one chance at recognition for his lean, independent, underdog film and gets shut out with the bereavement vote.

I also feel sorry for Leonardo DiCaprio. He finally makes a movie that's somewhat popular and has no chance to get up on stage and thank his stylist because the Academy are all In Living Color fans.

The worst thing is they didn't let Beyoncé sing two of the five nominated songs. I mean, couldn't they tell from the "é" at the end of her name that she'd have kicked that spanish song's ass? And who does Jay-Z have to put a hit on for her to play the Bach cello piece? Speaking of the "memorials" presentation, where was John Ritter? Does he have to die every year for us to remember him?

On the bright side, them girls love showin' off they boobies, eh?

the red, the orange

I wish I knew of some natural remedy that could kick a cold's ass like NyQuil/DayQuil. I can't fuck around and let a bunch of drainage mess up my voice if I hope to make a living. Plus, if you triple the recommended dosage, everyone's much prettier.

into the mind of iTunes

One of my small procrastination fascinations these days is checking in on my iTunes "25 Most played songs" list. In addition to having iTunes running in Shuffle most of the time I'm in front of the mac, I've been turning the speakers off and leaving it running when I'm away. I've been told that it's supposed to use some not quite random algorithm that favors your more highly rated songs (yeah, I've given most of 'em 1-5 star ratings... and downloaded album artwork). This seems to be true. For the most part, the top 25 is filled w/4 or 5 star tunes (This isn't a purely scientific experiment, however. Wilco's "Jesus, etc." and Gwen's "Hollaback Girl" have benefitted from a few bouts of obsessive replays.). The anomalies are interesting. Joe Hanna's "Cincinnati Highway" is on my hard drive as a relic from Ray's Mother Lodge playlist experiments. I gave it three stars 'cause I didn't want to seem all big-headed, being that I co-wrote, arranged, produced, recorded and played half the instruments on it (I guess listing all that might seem a lil' big-headed...). Still, with no help from me, it never leaves the top 5... and I'm sad to watch the slow descent of R.E.M.'s 5-star "At My Most Beautiful", hanging on at 25 while the 3-star "World Leader Pretend" leapfrogs in at 24. How can iTunes not get around to playing "At My Most Beautiful" on valentine's day? Like it has no brain... or heart.

grammy necrophilia

I swear I love Ray Charles, but I've half a mind to start seeking out somewhat faded stars in really poor health and convincing them to work with me.

What a downer it has to be for Los Lonely Boys, Green Day and the like... to have your one moment in the sun and lose any chance at that singular moment of recognition. Sure, I know that winning a grammy shouldn't be one's reason for making music, but, damnit, if you write a song and, in spite of everything that's against you, a couple million people like it, you should have a fair chance at standing up on national tv and thanking your piano teacher.

I feel just as sorry for Franz Ferdinand and The Killers lack of a shot because a bunch of 50- and 60-something voters looked at the ballot and only knew U2.

The worst thing is that I only saw the last hour or so, meaning I mainly saw the fucked up top awards (did get to see Loretta and Jack accept, though, which was sweet) and that worthless car crash that attempted to pass as "Across the Universe" (Think they'd have screwed with the lyrics if Paul had written it? No, 'cause he's still alive to sue 'em!). Oh, guess I did see a few others, but I'm guessing the monitoring was messed up, 'cause nobody could sing in tune. Even the usually electrifying Usher was strangely so-so.

On the bright side, Motörhead, Wilco, Britney Spears, Loretta Lynn, Bill Clinton, and Jon Stewart did win. Los Lonely Boys (I'm not really nuts about the song, but I'm a big fan of the underdog) and Green Day at least got some lesser awards, and Brian Wilson finally got a statue. Oh, yeah, the Garden State soundtrack got one as well.

Hopefully everybody else is just in it to get laid.

iNterest

I've come to theorize that you need at least 2000 songs on your iPod to keep from getting bored with it. I'll test the hypothesis about 900 songs from now.

St. Satan

So, I'm playing a mass yesterday and the priest keeps talking about Satan, which means I'm tuning out. I'm not much of a Catholic, which we'll get around to in a bit, and I generally don't pay all that much attention to this man's sermons (a bit more of a rightward slant than speaks to me theologically and, for that matter, politically), but when the mythology provides the foundation for the homily's main theme and I have had two straight four-hour sleep nights and I haven't taken any strattera for a month, the bookies move the line far away from any chance of me focusing on the middle of mass. (off topic: this morning, different church, different priest... spends most of the homily talking about the Salvadoran Archbishop Romero, who was assassinated 25 years ago next month. He surprised the government and church hierarchy by using his position to advocate strongly for the welfare of the poor in his country and work to end the unjust U.S.-funded genocidal war there. Made it easier to keep my pingpong ball of a brain engaged, especially with Liz in Cinti. There are babies just begging me to make faces, though, so don't expect that I can relate any of the finer points of the preaching.)

I do notice that he keeps pronouncing "Satan" in a strange way that seems to put in an extra "n" between the first "a" and "t"... so, to my ears, it sounds like "Saintan", like some subversive way to get us to subconsciously beatify the devil incarnate (ok, I guess "Satan" might not always refer to evil with a body, but two of the readings were Eve vs. the Snake and Jesus' temptations, so I'll stick w/the incarnate biz.). There's no way in hell he meant that (hey... play on words), but I wasn't paying attention anyway, so...

I was thinking, if the successful temptation of Eve and Adam is responsible for... ok, I know, I implied earlier that mythology shouldn't be the foundation for one's main theme, but you can give a long-haired pagan boy a lil' more rope than a priest, no? So... if the successful temptation of Eve and Adam is responsible for us having to struggle in this life, responsible for taking us out of the boredom the of complete ease and ignorant complacency of Eden and throwing us into the glorious mishmash of stumbling, triumphing, heartache, all-consuming love, death, rebirth, fear and faith that is the beauty of this mortal existence, than thank God for Satan!

Although I'm sure it seems as if I'm trying to be blasphemous here, I imagine most honest-to-God (hey... play on words) worthwhile Christian theologians would tell us that we're called to love all of God's creation. Actually being grateful for Satan is a moot point for me, not really believing in any Supreme Embodiment of Evil in the Universe, but it does pose an interesting quandary to those who do (one that may keep them busy long enough to make them forget to go down to the state legislature with that anti-gay marriage amendment they were meaning to propose... so pose away, everyone!). I find that the tension between the great forces of the universe (good:evil, light:dark, yin:yang, blue:red, coke:pepsi...) provides the energy that propels us forward in our discovery of and our attempts to realize the purpose of this existence. Stepping back into the mythology,while we may have been fat and happy in Eden, the possibility of the full spectrum of human experience didn't exist until the snake showed up.

If one finds the purpose of our time here in being as comfortable as possible and devotes one's life to getting "back to the garden", then it makes sense to see the moral of the story of our Original Sin as how we had it all and fucked it all away. I tend to think that we're here to learn some thing that might be of some use farther down the line, and I'm starting to think that the moral of the story is that we couldn't do that if evil weren't part of the equation.

...

So... I'm finding a lot in these thoughts that point to some of my more deeply held elements of faith, and I promised a lil' explanation as to why a guy who's playing two masses a week doesn't consider himself much of a Catholic, so... I was raised, baptized and confirmed Catholic. I attended 12 and 1/2 years of Catholic schools and mass every Sunday of my life until I got to college. Then I started taking Sundays off, started reading the Dhammapada, Bhagavad Gita, Herman Hesse, etc. It seemed like when I took any major religion back to the source and boiled it down to its essence, I got the same two things: Love everyone, lose yourself. I started to care a lot less where I got that message, just that I got it. When I graduated, I came back and, through several quirks of fate, ended up directing the ensemble, playing the piano and singing at a fairly left-wing catholic church as one of my day gigs (As far as the wide world is concerned, they're left-wing. As far as the catholic church is concerned, they're wild-eyed radicals... more on that some day.). At 30, I left the church gig and my other part-time day gig to make my way entirely making music in the "secular" world. I spent most Sunday mornings getting close to God in the yoga studio. After a few years, I found myself playing more and more masses for money and decided that if I were going to be in a church on Sunday morning, I should at least be somewhere that would feed some small bit of my soul. I asked my old church if they had enough money to pay me my going rate as a hired-gun pianist-singer. They did, and I've been back for the last year or so. Even though I have serious doubts about Jesus' divinity, I am in love with his message of loving everybody and taking care of the least among us... and I'm glad to serve that message among people who actually bring it to life in this world.

I won't bore us with the entirety of my spiritual belief here, but a few things popped into my head while writing about satan... as to loving all of god's creation, a good portion of any belief I have in a god can be traced straight back to my fascination with creation. It's also a good deal of the reason I've made the creative acts of playing, writing and recording music my life's work and also much of the reason I haven't been eatin' animal stuff for 14 years or so. There's always been something in the simplicity of Aquinas' "prima causa" that spoke to me. Something had to start it all in motion, right? That, combined with the perfect logic that can be found underlying the forces set in motion at that (big bang?) moment, even in our most convoluted struggles and especially in the laws of nature, have kept me from any period of atheism (although my fervent belief in the existence of a god and some form of an afterlife are matched by an almost as fervent belief that I might just be wrong about both).

One thing I wonder, why does recognizing the beauty of the laws of nature that govern evolution insult the faith of those who believe in a god who would be responsible for the whole glorious process, while belief in a jumbled mish mash of two (count 'em, two!) ancient fables does honor and glory to that same god? If you believe that "one day" creation story that God put a big glass bowl up on top of this flat earth to keep all that water in outer space out or the week-long story where the first human is made whole-cloth out of dirt, you're dishonoring your great creator God by not using that beautiful brain She put in yr head!

One more Adventure In Faith: A few years ago, I heard an interview with the founder of a fairly ecumenical website named beliefnet.org. He mentioned a quiz on the site called the belief-o-matic, in which one answers 20 questions about one's beliefs and how strongly those beliefs are held. Once the answers are submitted, they are fed through a program that scores and ranks how your expressed beliefs line up with those of 27 major faith traditions. I took the quiz, expecting that I would end up totally Unitarian and pretty close to some of the Buddhist and Hindu traditions. I was surprised twice... my No. 1 faith tradition, with 100% score: Neo-Pagan. My No.27 faith tradition at the end of the line, behind Orthodox Judaism and Scientology, even, was Roman Catholicism, the faith of my upbringing and one of my greatest single sources of income.

I fought the Neo-Pagan result for a few days, then read a lil' and realized that someone who is that into God as Creator and God as Mother Nature fits pretty well in that box. Not that I'm gonna seek out any Wiccan worship any time soon. The Roman Catholic result was less of a surprise. I'm sure that most mainstream American catholics wouldn't have a high Roman Catholic score on this test, and I'm far from mainstream.

It's an enlightening exercise in self discovery, at least. Everyone should try: Belief-O-Matic