Sunday, August 27, 2017

zzzzzzzzzzzz

i really need to hit the sack! been up working on school for a few hours. excited about school! nervous, too, i won't do a good job... tho i know i'm "into this" much more than i used to be, the pedagogical part, that is, not just the kids part (always have liked the kids, been good w/the kids, like dad was, tho didn't inherit mama's "super teacher 200%" gene... angie got that!)
posting a few pix from last night. my new roland amp sounded cool! then i hit it hard and it took a crap!
it's not the amp... it's my keyboard.
arrrrrrrgggghhhhghggh!!!
i have one more gig wed at shenanigan's, the last for the combo there (for a while? forever? i dunno...)... so if i don't pound the piano, my rig should be ok.... then i gotta get it fixed.
man, i gotta go to bed! hope james's show at redwood room went great. :) my prediction is that it was packed... but i had to stay home for school.
excited about school! such a duty, to teach the young... saw one of my quite dutiful students at the dollar general as i went there, stalling so i wouldn't have to plan... so nice, such a warm, fuzzy feeling to see students and their parents while out and about. i'm not drunk! i'm a good person! i have no secrets. i am a good role model now. :)
i cautiously say, life is good. i know speed bumps are coming, they always are, but right now... smooth sailing.
time for mimis. may you be well. or to quote james, who quotes -- unbeknownst to him (tho probably not; his knowledge base is deep & startling to me always) -- kinky friedman, "may the god of your choice bless you."

Sunday, August 13, 2017

aaaaahhh...

nice dinner at the golden spur (tho the sand dabs were quite weird)

- some happy news, after the sad posts of late. what is the happy news? i think it's that i started work friday.
yes! that's it!
- i would rather rest on my laurels, sleep late, eat bonbons (oh wait; i don't do that); watch tv instead of read (yes, i succumb, too often), but i know resting on laurels in my case leads to indolence, insolence, incontinence (emotional, that is), tho not impotence, no, we don't have that... in my case, idle hands definitely are (complete hoary warning)... both james & i do better when, like border collies, we have jobs.
- other good news for me is there's a cool app  i've been playing to beef up my scrabble/words with friends skills. we've deduced that a few ppl on fb w/whom we play are cheating. i don't want to cheat! i want to know how to play the game really well... such fun to manipulate words. so absorbing. mental gymnastics, too. might stave off dementia; who knows.
-what was i talking about?
-(shouldn't joke on that topic...)
-last week we took an overnighter to the inland empire of socal, the final hurrah before i started work. we had a fun trip start to finish. james & i did stuff together, like normal ppl (or as close as we'll ever figure normal ppl do). went to donut man, folk music center, rhino records, walked the dog, had a nice dinner, walked the dog in the morn to get bagels. next day he hung with his friends, me w/my dear donna. we shopped til we dropped at our favorite kinda places (discount), had "froyo" (i can't believe my eccentric friend used that popular name!), & ate tasty fish tacos at an outside stand. i sipped horchata & gazed at the san gabriels as a breeze blew; it seemed so wonderfully southern california. :)
- my friend showed me her immaculate & beautiful garden of which she is so rightfully enamored,  telling me proudly about all of her plants. this eve i took penny on a long hike, then came back & watered my little plants i had put in the pots earlier today. i never went into the 50th bd half marathon ordeal. see, i didn't finish: midway, after two bathroom stops, rumbling guts, sand in my shoes, & a boring, boring path, i JUST STOPPED. then i ran like hell back the hotel so i could get my breakfast, so i did complete a decent distance, but it was because i was going to have my hotel breakfast, dammit, or i was going to be really depressed!. also, the run to the hotel was fun because i was going someplace. a person i used to know called it "destination running." yes, i love that kind of run! the half marathon? it just depressed me, for some reason., so i didn't finish, & that was meaningful. the world isn't all or nothing. i can do small things & still be ok. i can even fail & still be ok.
not every day is a parade.
not every day is fireworks.
etc.
"do small things with great love" - mother teresa (mom & dad's license plate frame -- they should know; they do)
so i can water my little plants, jog because i want to, not to prove anything, & take life a little gentler in its second fifty years. (being optimistic & a little unrealistic, i realize.) also, i had the revelation this eve that i can honor my dear parents from here on by trying to learn to do what they each do so well. i've been learning to cook (james has been very happy & complimentary! and mama is the best cook!), & i need to teach myself to plant (dad is a lifelong gardener). they each do each of these things with such skill & with great love. also, each is a gentle & creative outlet that makes oneself & others happy. each task creates beauty & happiness.
-and so i will try.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

sick, disgusted, sad

 am sick over the news i just read of cowardly ignorant racists' violent & horrifying actions today. murderers; stupid, putrid villains; human scum: they should be wiped off the earth. this eve i talked to a wise person who also has progressive views, but yes, we agreed: some people should just not be here (james is of the same mind, as well).
the 1st song i thought of was "nazi punks f*** off," by the dead kennedys, bc angie used to play it all the time & it's therefore burned in my brain, but looking up the lyrics & listening to it again after many decades, i realized that except for its title the fast, furious song is angry but not at all sad... i then flashed to the saddest, toughest, angriest song i know. its topic is war, but this shreddingly powerful proto-punk beauty despairs & slams so hard, it better reflects the shock & sorrow i'm feeling right now...
i didn't used to think of "search & destroy" as a sad song. in the 1980s, my drughead friends & i, all young & full of it, would listen to this & rave about its toughness, its coolness, but now? such futility, despair, &  nihilism. recently, listening to it with james, who'd never heard it, i exploded in tears. he merely listened, nodded, shook his head, his face grim.
the ones who fight, the cannon fodder, they truly are "forgotten boy[s]" (and now girls, too). war today is unfairly (wo)manned overwhelmingly by the children of the poor; war itself generally is forgotten in favor of social media, junk food, lives of materialistic indebtedness, & game of thrones; peaceful protest is squashed; more & more & more cowardly, sick, disenfranchised morons act upon their violent impulses; not to mention the nightmare & travesty of "the apprentice" in the oval office.... the world seems such a horrible place today.
but i know we can't give up. we must all try, all the time, to make the world a better place, ESPECIALLY when the news seems futile. birth of a nation (the original disgusting, fetid film, that is) & idiocracy must not become reality! now read this for a mordant laugh. and have a good day.


Saturday, August 05, 2017

one year ago today, the world lost big manny

shocking to see my dear friend the gentle giant's pic on social media today. it has been one year since he left this mortal plane. i still think of him all the time, as i know so many, many others do. he was beautiful through & through, funny & sweet & irreverent & kind, could sing soaringly, like an angel,  or suggestively, so mischievously, so rockin', & he played guitar like chuck berry meets mount olympus. i hope manuel's family is doing better one year later, though that place where loved ones were is never, never the same... :(
yesterday, r.i.p to felix. he always was nice to me, a tall lean gray soul wearing thick glasses & a wise,  tight-lipped smile, looking bemused, relaxed, tough & resigned to this ridiculous life. he and james had A Shared Past, being real irish tough guys, knowing each other that way as well as through music for many decades. "f**k! listen to felix play the sh*t out of that harmonica!" james would exclaim. "f*ck!!"
felix had been very, very ill but continued to post angrily & righteously about cop abuse, his voice as  vital as ever, so it was shocking yesterday to learn of his death: he passed during surgery. we flashed back to 2015, when james had his near-death time, the day he finally went into surgery bc w/o it, he definitely wasn't going to make it. the doc sat me down & told me, "i'm gonna be straight with you. he might not survive this surgery. it's real risky." my head reeling, i levitated to the chapel, dumb w/shock, knelt down, shaking, stunned, & started rambling to whomever or whatever is Good in the ether. what else could i do? after a few minutes, in one of the most comforting yet creepy moments of my life, a kindly male voice in my head suddenly said, "don't worry. he's going to be ok. dry your eyes & go back upstairs." that's only happened one other time, when the voice told me "go to aa" when i was in a big bag of sh*t on the night of my last drink back in 1995...
felix lived to near-70, a long life for a working musician. i hope his long life was pleasing to him, that busting heads, blowing harp, kicking against the jams, & all that he did brought him a good life. requiescat in pace, tommy felix flanagan.