angie's important autumn event -- please gogogo!!!

Event Description Here cousin thomas, visiting from tx, is back in bako with the gias, & my insides are packed with bean & onion burrito. trying to be of some good use, i edited the poster my seester started for her bakersfield event. she & her hubby doug have created a highly-worthwhile drop-in center for women living on & around union avenue. homeless, staying in hotels, sheltering wherever they can, couch-surfing, walking the streets: visitors to the center are doing what they must to stay vertical. the drop-in center is a clean, safe, lovely little refuge where women receive free counseling, food, clothing, & shoes. they can wash up & take a break from the bakersfield heat. i tell you, what angie & doug are doing with this center is their best idea yet, & they've had some good ones. doug has plans to expand it, if the dough is there, so if you are in bako or want to make the drive, this will be a fun as well as spiritually valuable & rewarding investment -- i believe tax-deductible, too. plus james & i will be doing a set. :)

why hate?

it took only 58 yrs, but my mug finally made the bakersfield society pages, thx to rod thornburg, photojournalist. at my left & right, respectively, are dapper dad & handsome hank... well, i read again today that vegans are widely hated, but now typing that, i remember having addressed it already. vegans make ppl uncomfy, it read. since i'm no longer vegan, i can make ppl comfy again. had to add small oily fish *tinned fish!!!! yum!!!!* bc my iron level dropped. should feel bad for the little oily fish, but i don't. must be a character flaw, an oddly empty moral space... well, nothing much is up except this way of eating is causing me to lose chub, but mebbe it's not the food, perhaps i'm just more dad than mama, & the older dad gets, the skinnier he gets. he was a child fatty, like i was. whatever the reason, this is a good health direction to be heading... just went to the ridge rt museum yard sale on this here labor day (thank you, trade unions, for all the benefits you've given this ungrateful society) & got 2 yoga books, 1 vegan cookbook (the veganomicon - what a title!), & the smokey bear comic of my (maybe your) childhood, all for a buck. that is one solid deal. one can never, never, never have too many books... back to food, have gotten to enjoy some superb meals lately. sister-in-law sherri sent me a gift card, so we drove south & had a staunchly middle-class, bustling, air-conditioned time @ cheesecake factory. what you see is the make-your-own lettuce wraps. outstanding!!! the other pic is from the botanist (bakersfield). the blood-suckingly dark, swanky interior made the table top glow with jeweled tones. seester angie had recommended it, & tho i think the botanist is mostly known for its booze drinks, they insisted that they had eats for the teetotaler, too. (that is fun to say aloud, btw.) i was surprised by the posh west-LA atmosphere (difference: only 10 ppl in the restaurant) & had the mezze plate w/very fresh, chunked-up veggies, hummus, & sourdough toasted in olive oil. great stuff!! it was exotic to eat @ such a chichi place in the middle of downtown bakingfield, but i've not lived there for a long time, so mebbe LA has stretched its tippytoes to reach nashville west. when we exited this place, we recoiled & screamed like vampires... i exaggerate, but you get the pitcher.

blablablablablablabla

"any fool can criticize, condemn and complain… and most do." (purposely not attributed!)

well, i missed @f's memorial due to work, as i thought would happen. franklin odel just posted the youtube video of the event, direct from hollywood forever cemetery. of course, there! i wish @ could see all the tributes he's gotten, all the ink, a memoriam in LA Times, even -- he would plotz!!! not proud of this, but i got p.o'ed seeing 2 of the dudes speaking whom art didn't even like, at least up to 10 yrs ago... i went thru my pix looking for the ones of me & art & paul body that last time i saw @... and i couldn't even find them!! -- but looking thru those 100s of photos, i realized a whole buttload of life has gone by, & that settled my resentment about those two about whom @f had gossiped & complained. many thousands of hours & times shared have transpired since i last saw @, a whole lot of his life & mine with zero shared moments. it's likely he gained a more positive perspective on those two. right? or they got up there when they had no right. i mean, if i knew all, i'd understand all, but i never will.

so in this life on this plane where we still have locomotion, limbs, eyes to see, hearts that pump, brain pans, guts, experiences to enjoy, lessons to learn, more to come, james & i have been chugging along. here we are this past wkend @ our home. my job is a jewel, a precious jewel! my health is strong. i get to get old. i get to help people, one this very eve, in fact.

here we are at loner troubadour's open mike in bako a few wks back. there were no keys & i was stumped what to do, but fortunately kathy kennedy let me use her snare, so james & i stomped out a few songs. i felt out of my realm, but james said it was good for us, & i spose so, going out in deep waters & not drowning, in fact, swimming back to shore strong.

life is good.

i want to write about art fein

Dictated, then edited: My heart just hurts and I feel sad even though I hadn't even seen him in 10 years. I married James and James has a reputation, he is very tough and nobody to mess with, especially in those days, now he's so much more reasonable, and I was a big weenie and my friendship with Art just fell away. We used to write with each other everyday, constantly, because he was in love with the written word, like I am, like so many of us are. Such word play, such wit, such a crabby yet hopeful, challenging, confrontational, super-bright man he was. So many amazing stories. And we had something else in common besides that we loved our American music. He had a funny little voice, a youthful voice even when he got old, and I am like that, too. The last time I saw him was at an Elvis show where James and I were supposed to play, but James did not show up, and Art said I figured you weren't gonna be here, but he put me right on and some other performers were not very happy because they had no idea who I was and how dare did I get up there like I was somebody? ... ... But Art thought I was somebody. Rip Masters told me last week, I know Art was your fan. Art was my fan! :( I got up there and did an Elvis number but in more of a Jerry Lee Lewis style and when I got done, Art had that glazed-over crazy smile that he would get, knocked silly by rock and roll music, American music, the greatest sound right from the USA. So I did another 1 and then that was it: Life took over, I went back to teaching, I stopped playing my repertoire, I was gonna go to his book opening 2 years ago in Hollywood, which isn't even far, but I got busy and now I just wish I had, I wish I had. So many people are writing their stories about him and man, what a testament. How many thousands of musicians and artists he connected! In fact I remember him saying something about how much he loved putting people together, like puzzle pieces. I wanna write my stories too, but I don't want to put them on social media, I'm not sure why, it just hurts. I wanna say so much and I know I didn't know him near as well as other people did, so maybe I'm being stupid. I went to his Silent Era Spanish-style mansionette near the Hollywood Bowl 1 time and he had his little dog corraled in the kitchen. He told me he would give me his cassette tape collection someday. It filled his garage! 10 years later James told me Art had told him the same thing when he 1st met him in the 90s. I think when he met people he thought were cool, he just wanted to share as much amazing music as possible with them. Hence the cassette mix tapes. How many freaking mixtapes did Art Fein make and share over the decades? I have at least 10, 2 of which he made for me. I wonder how many hundreds of others were made personally for this friend or that? Many times I would drive down to LA and we would go out to eat and see who could spend less because we both were cheapskates. I'd get mad when he would cheese on the bill, but he thought it was funny! We went to an art opening where Phil Alvin showed up in his gaudy orange sharkskin suit. Art had my band on his Poker Party show 3 times, and we never got to sit down to be interviewed because he wanted us to keep playing! He had the Blasters on when they did 4-11-44 and everyone was laughing so much!, having so much fun, and then we all went out for Mexican food. Another time we went to the Melrose Swap Meet and 2 men commented at me, Now there's a girl who's not trying to be like everyone else. That's real style! And Art smiled like he was proud. At one point I wrote and recorded for him a upbeat song because he was going through a period of depression ... ... Now after writing all this I can see it was inevitable that we ended up having a conversation because he wanted to go out with me but I had just left my 1st husband and his wife was leaving him and it was very awkward to talk to my friend and have to tell him I just couldn't. My friend in Texas said something like that happened with her, so I wonder how many other women in the music business it happened to? In my case I believe it was not that I was something so wonderful, it was that whatever is special about me has to do with American music, his greatest love, so he couldn't help but fall for women in the music... Art was the guy who made it happen for so many of us. He loved us and what we did. He loved the musicians who were not famous just as much or maybe even more than the ones that went big time because he loved underdogs. I deeply feel like an important glue has dissolved away. Other people will speak more tomorrow about how important Art was to the history of the rock and roll era. They scheduled his service, on Zoom, for the 1st day of school, so I don't even know if I'll get to attend. R.i.p., Art. I wish I had been a better friend to you. :(

good deeds, good dids, good dones, good duds

will write this later

r.i.p., fein art

:( :( :(

nearly matching special dates

tomorrow i'm 58, & he is 9 months on friday. these are happy pix of us on the way to the gig. it went really well considering james's back was so very out. we are so grateful to have made it to this point, having walked through the fire together. we are so very grateful.

another trip around the sun!!!! & other shtuhph

i'm going to be 58 in a few days. fifty-eight!!!! i should've perished long ago!! weak immune system, addictions, idiocy, dangerous behaviors & associations, anaphylaxis, uncooperative infernal coconut... the only thing still in play is that immune system, but i think change of eating habits is strengthening that (least i hope!).

so here is my birthday list: first, food -- laura scudder's natural crunchy peanut butter, berry jams, aussie bites. next, practical stuff: strong rope, large plastic bags, duct tape, mailing tape, bungee cords (i shared that w/my sister & she replied, "that's a serial killer kit!") my family also is looking for a faux pearl choker for me, to replace the one i lost on the last day of school. certainly a killer wouldn't want such an item!! :D

on a sad note, i found out last wk that someone i used to know well has alzheimers. :( this person made his life with words, connections, the hollywood hustle. he was completely in love with rock 'n' roll & even had a license plate frame that read, "i'd rather be jerry lee lewis"!! since i don't believe i'll ever see him again, i wanted to write that i hope his suffering is minimal, his good times as plenty as possible. our friendship dropped away when i married james, but that's ok: i had it for a while, & he was cool, really cool, bc his passion for the written word & american music was TRUE! and not much's cooler than authenticity, no amount of posing or posturing... this coincides w/the recent connection i made with a pal from 35 yrs back. it turns out this fellow has constructed a vr class for memory-care patients! it is called oyveyvr, & now you can look it up, too. i've been privy to reviewing some of the class content & realized while doing so that my knowledge of what works w/kids allows me to pass along to stu what might work w/his clientele. i would think learners in assisted living also need activation of prior knowledge, realia, visits from experts, breaks, opportunities to discuss, sing, review, & (as possible) move, write, draw, play, etc. i feel really fortunate to have this opportunity! chances to help must never be ignored!

am waiting for mister james to rise from slumber so we can go to a gig down in east LA. it's the only one this summer since he has been focusing on other life realms... we're unsure if it's private or public, so we have no publicity! that's ok; it will be good to play... i just went to an ai site & typed woman playing piano and drums frankenstein monster style and this came up. it is fine for now, for although not very accurate (apparently ai is patriarchal, cuz look who's playing the instruments -- not the woman!), it was instantaneous & is cool-enough! :D

"without obsession, life is nothing." - john waters

here are pix of me with some glamorous gals. the ones at bottom are with rara, in a blue cocktail number that stole the room. rara goes with joe finkle, who travels the world with his music, & she posts high-glamour, exciting pix of their itinerant life together. the other pix are with seester angie in vintage pearls & robin's-egg plaid & sister dawn, who has long been outrageous & diva & funny & fashion-forward. seeing all of the dresses & get-ups @ angie & doug's pink & blue country club charity gala made the event fun for me (along w/ the delicious watermelon served). that's one of my favorite things to do at an event: what is everyone wearing? that's one reason i'd like to go to a sag-aftra event, if james gets around to focusing on that part of his life. i imagine the ppl would be very young & genetically gifted, but there also would have to be much glorious sartorial wonderfulness. i suppose i just could go to a club. or an art event. (i remember once going to an art show in smellay & phil alvin was there in a gold sharkskin suit.).. or, most lazily, i can just scroll on my device & sigh/gasp @ pix of outrageous, elegant, wonderful style... angie is planning another event in fall, a bbq "hoedown" with food, cake walk, games, dancing, live music (including us). we went shopping the other day in bakersfield, & @ an antique mall, she already was planning what she would wear, which was fun to hear. i don't think enough about fashion, but i do love it in my way. in fact, one time a guy said, "you have enough clothing to dress an entire 3rd-world country." i don't know how i felt about that, but it was funny, so there you go.

rrrrrrgggrrrrrrrrgrrgrgrgggrrrrrrrr

i know james has been an at-times polarizing figure in his career, to state it mildly, but when i learn of someone talking trash about him, i want to rip out their eyeballs... well, now that i wrote that, the reality would be excessive & gruesome... so maybe i'd prefer to have someone smash them in the nose, then maybe kick or stomp them a few times... i'd ask my sister, who looks like a mild-mannered, benign, gray-haired creative; no one would expect her to have a**-kicking powers... ok, having written that, i realize that, too, seems a bit excessive... so maybe i'd just go find their dirty secrets (not so hard in this online world) & post them for all to see. yes, that's likely more what i would do... back when i was a more public figure, ppl talked smack about me here & there. i took that, so i can take this. anyways, anyone who talks crap about james just doesn't know him. he's made mistakes like everybody, but he is brave & strong & funny & a survivor, prodigiously talented, a unique thinker who is kind to animals, children, & old people, & he has made Mama laugh louder than i've ever heard her laugh, & he's Dad's tight pal & friend. so my higher self should remember all of that & just glide past the misguided, likely-envious words of some petty lesser-than, just leave them in the dust... so there. you have been blog-smoted, you idjit. go away with your dumb little life.

blablablablablablablabla..... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

with all the awful floods & fires going on this blazing summer, so glad it's safe here, also not suffocatingly hot, or muggy humidy like ventura, where my sister & i just visited. blechcchhc!! it's lovely there visually, but as our cousin said, yeah, you always feel like you just got out of the shower... i would add, except not clean!! the bottom pix are from one of my 30th sobriety celebrations, w my sponsee cut out since i don't know if she wants her image online. at the first celebration, i got a nice card signed by everyone in attendance that eve; @ this one, they gave me a paper crown, which i've worn two other times, both when i was in my 1st sober yr. this yr, i got two chips!!! it's been a decade since that happened!! my experience is, since i hit 20, i more often have gone to mtgs & there's no chips available. this was an extra-nice thing, getting two chips! lagniappe! :D so back to climate, if you want a fun website, look up zoom earth, which has interesting maps showing all kinds of real-time weather info... i miss newspapers, where you could see all the numbers in one place, all the temps & humidities & forecasts... well, not much more to say. it's a lazy summer afternoon, & my old boy louis is asleep at my feet, & this pic shows what peewee the cat did when i got up for a moment,

& james & i might go to the dump or set up our music gear to play. i can't believe we still haven't heard what it sounds like with his guitar plus my kick drum!!! i suspect it will sound band-like, with just us two & the snare-like shuffle of james's old-timey guitar along with the thump of the kick. oil well. i know we'll do it, & i can be the p word... us not getting on the ball with this stompers stuff, i blame the torpor, the laziness, the bleghgh of mid-summer. even my plants are looking peak-ed.

"the grouch and the brainstorm are not for us."

need to remember that line from the big book as i sit here obsessing about a house in tehachapi. we went to tehachapi so i could do a 5k for my 30th sobriety bd since we didn't go to the international in canada, but i can't blame fdt for that, it was my fault for not getting a real id in time, but i already wrote about that, so that's that. but vising tehachapi, the obsession kicked in. tehachapi has similar weather to here, beautiful fluttering breezes, sighing mountain views, but also supermarkets, sidewalks, trains & medical centers. it reminds me of places i love like flagstaff & gallup, americana traveling free-breathing road trip kinda places. it has an old downtown & a train museum! we love trains so much!! but i gotta cool my jets. this kind of swell of excitement, desire to jump in & go nuts researching something madly, with no reins, usually just ends with me dropping the whatever it is like a hot potato, like it never existed. i've seen Dad do it for decades, & now i'm doing it... anyways, mebbe we'll go to tehachapi, mebbe not. but i need to write about it, get it out of the coconut, so i can rest tonight without my brain being on fire with it... and will you look at this beautiful windchime james had his friend make for me, his friend who made a stained glass clock for michael jackson's wonderland, a bona fide artist, so james had him make this for me & surprised me with it as i sat out in my backyard patio in my hot-pink aunty-rita mumu, to celebrate my 3 decades with no booze. and tonight a roomful of ppl sang happy bd, & my tiny "oldtimer" friend gave me her old 30 yr chip, & i learned now i'm an oldtimer, too, & they even had a cake. the room was brimming with love & i was too choked up to speak much. my james was there, beaming. life is so much better these days, with him sober, too. i think i better stop writing now & not ruin everything by letting my mind run wild. must be moderate. must be calm. must be

tcb & mister gia & cultural effervescence

we are kicking butt around this place, which a kind city friend took to be a homestead when she saw a video i made, but no, we do not have a homestead, we have 0.4 acre of property with house "only dynamite would fix" (angie, 2010), & now that james is sober, we are digging out from under 11 yrs of his clutter, & i could not be happier!!! am able to move forward on projects such as finishing the tiny house (antoine pearl, jr) (see photo of quilt, which dad, mom, & angie restored, & which perfectly fit the bedroom wall!!!),

completing the back porch patio project, & finally... finishing assembly of my sauna!!! these are good times in pageville, & i'm so grateful.

dad just sent this pic of him @ age 21. what a great pic, young handsome dad @ the seattle space needle! wow! i was his son, you know, growing up, or that's what i thought. i wanted to be just like him. "I'M his son!!" james exclaimed when i said the "son" thing. yes, james certainly is his beloved son now, & it's terrific to see what great buddies they are, too. growing up, i was merely a confused girl. nowadays they would've said i was gender dysphoric or something, but no... dad just was so kind & so handsome & he always was fixing things, working on projects, studying, learning, always self-improving, yet being weird & funny, so i just wanted to be him instead of me... once i entered young adulthood, any delusion i was a boy was smushed, but dad still is my hero, along with mama, james, & others. it's important to have heroes to motivate one's life to do & be better all the time!... speaking of which, the no kings rally in bakersfield was so massive, so positive, so wonderful, such a clear-eyed, brave showing of strength, i couldn't stop crying. my mind was blown by the THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of bakersfield people that had shown up to stand up for what is important!! it was the opposite of a mob -- it was societal facilitation, what durkheim called "cultural effervescence." that day being part of the liberty bell protest/rally immediately sealed in my craw as one of my top 10 life-memories ever... between 6 & 10 million people were estimated to attend no kings rallies country-wide. a movement has begun!!! the next peaceful mass mobilizations will take place july 4, which happens to be my 30th sobriety bd.. had intended us to go that weekend to the international aa convention in vancouver, bc, but since i didn't get my real id in time, we are a no-go! i've been blaming fdt for it, but must be honest: if i'd gotten on getting that damned real id quicker, i could've gone. so i guess i don't get to blame everything on fdt!! as distant as that person is from the Good of the Universe, The Great Spirit, & the Life Force, he is made of the same star matter as the rest of us. the bad that happens is not due to any god, but to humans, & he currently is the most massive example... well, that's it for now except once the house butt-kicking is over, it will be time for... MUSIC BUTT-KICKING!!!!

i'm an a**hole

(thinking of that denis leary song from decades back)... since james started turning the basement into a podcast studio, i've been down there a few times more than usual. the usual used to be to go down only when doing laundry, & then never to the basement back-40 w/its serial killer shadows, certainly venomously-infested wood piles, creepy shelves. recently, i peered back that way & noticed vermin nests in the shelves where i had stuffed my Lifetime Boxes. rats; this meant action was in the future, messy, emotional, time-consuming action... today i finally donned a mask & hauled the disgusting boxes up to the long porch, our nawlins porch of wrought iron & wrap-aroundedness. five hours later, the boxes i brought up were all separated: 1) keep; 2) give to others; & 3) sell at the antique shop. yep, i'm so vintage now, the stuff from my teenage yrs, 20s, & 30s are collectible. to continue with the numerating, those five hours brought these discoveries: 1) i used to have about 40 more IQ points than i currently do; 2) was super-arrogant about always being the smartest person in the room; 3) had absolutely no common sense; 4) completely objectified the men in my life as if they were figures i was drawing or were players in a movie i was watching; and 5) tho now dumber, i prefer who i am now, not who i was, the young female who somehow didn't overdose or get murdered... those boxes full of rodent poop & vermin nest piles contained many emotionally-sobering items, but so many wonderful ones, too. 1) our dad is a droll, absurdist deadpan artist & always has been. 2) friends' & boyfriends' correspondences -- considerable in those pre-cyber decades -- were bright, witty, troubled, but so brilliant! at the time, i had no idea of all the brainpower by which i was surrounded! 3) there were cards from family & friends no longer in this realm, 4) drawings from students & family members now adult, 5) obsessively photographic artwork by me, young, talented me, her head so far up her a** i'm surprised she could see to draw. by the former inhabitant of this somehow-same (at least similar) human suit, 6) obsessively worded articles, hundreds and hundreds of them, no exaggeration!! i wrote a lot!! she wrote a lot!!! she loved to write, draw, observe & analyze... all in futile attempt to control other people, places, & things. nice try, young one, but i am glad you are gone -- though i wish i still could write such elaborate sentences & draw with such acumen! -- in the end, it's a plenty-good trade to now have mental health & (mostly) times of peace & gratitude. "alcoholics tend to confuse chaos with adventure," i've heard. this calmer life is the way a person gets to make it to old age, & i'm glad for it.. related to the boxes but decades ago, my then-best friend marc & i used to ditch high school & drive from bakersfield to hollywood. we always went to hollywood book & poster. in those days, it was a big dusty mess of boxes over-spilling with lobby cards, movie posters, film memorabilia, a real junk heaven of movie paradise. on one of those trips, i got (among other stuff) a signed gary leonard photo of phil alvin with the gun club's jeffrey lee pierce. it had to have been in the dollar bin; that's the only place i really shopped, being a kid with no job... well, i thought i had lost that photo forever, but there it was, in one of the disgusting boxes!!... and now here it is for you to see, too...

the next pic, also gary leonard but not an original, shows a kid in the audience who looks suspiciously familiar, but james sez it ain't him. this would've been right around the time he met phil. what do you think?

bluhbluhbluhbluhbluh

"we're going to have fun," james reassured me. the day before the gig, my go-to keyboard had taken a crap, so i was fretting. after much swearing, i realized i'm just gonna have to start prying the broken keyboards open & seeing what's inside. but for this gig, i had to take a casio james got me over in lake hughes, a great deal, but set up for classical playing. not much bottom end. my amp had been all set up finally, perfectly, for the yamaha that had taken a crap. it finally sounded real cool with the vocals and kick drum set-up. oh well. james sed it was gonna be fun, & i needed to believe him, so i went to work yesterday, then came home & we loaded up & drove to la habra for the gig & my part went fine except the keyboard just didn't sound full enough. james's band had two subs yesterday, & when jerry lee luithle came in on the first song, big butted woman (not a subtle number), the full bombastity of his thumb-pounding bass on that particular number made me laugh & thrill aloud. it was the perfect fat, humorous, rich, wonderful tone for that silly-cool anthem to dumbness that james wrote! james's friend jll's tone was the most thunderous bass sound i'd heard since manuel (r.i.p.) playing bass 15 yrs ago at a southland vfw... jerry lee was named by his father after the killer & taught robert lucas how to play, james said. jerry lee spoke wistfully of his father, a music lover & honky-tonk pianist, & took videos of me playing. i guess my playing made him think of his pop. and how nice was that. :) it was a long but fun night. the band sounded really loose but tough & full. james, 7 months-plus without mind-altering substances, brimmed with charisma, good cheer, silliness, naughtiness, toughness, benevolence, virility. wobbling with fatigue, trying to get coffee, i watched him from the bar, & there he was: balding, middle-aged, yet there he was, all eyes on him because he just has that: all eyes are drawn to james, bursting with light & life, one of this world's good-will ambassadors... other than this, what i'm thinking about is how tony lopez has the best gear, & his vintage drum kit had some super-cool tones. "tony, play that," me & anthony pointed, & he pounded his super-cool tom-tom, & anthony laughed as i yelled like tarzan swinging from the vines. yes, good-natured anthony was spot-on, & it was great fun yapping with buoyant him, the sweet, shy, boyish man who plays like a lunging predator... so as you can see, all was going well enough, but then on the way home james's tank, the purple parade float, broke down & we ended up having a brain-deadingly-long evening. as we waited & waited to get home, i kept flashing on how many ppl i've read about who, something like that happens & it's all over for them. the car breaks down, they can't get to work, they lose their job, they can't pick up their kid, cps swoops in, they lose their place to live, the dominos fall disastrously, maybe even fatally. for us, he has triple-a & i have a middle-class union job: it all worked out in the end. so there was a lot to be grateful about... we met a kind tow truck driver who took us to a nearby denny's so we didn't have to stand outside, then after some waiting (no one wanted to drive from the city to the rural mountains), a gig-driver with spotless hybrid decked out with twinkling lazer lights, european chocolates, & bottled water scooped us home. in armenian tones, he burred that he couldn't sleep & got the call & realized he wanted to "help these people" (us), so he took the job. his main career, he said, was at a school for autistic children in north hollywood. i conclude that we met some roadside angels because, though salaried to do these tasks, they did them kindly & they did them well... a few hundred bucks down, we arrived home around 5 am to happy dogs, cat slinking around our ankles, tv, comfy bed, home. & that's about it, i think, for now.

happy mamas' day

to all mamas, all you mothers, all you aunties, all you seesters & grandmas, all you menfolk, too, all you humans who care for others, who nurture, who abide, who forgive, who endure, who are patient, who love.

more ghosts

am trying to set up a new website for james. godaddy was all messed up & they said his domain would be safe, but it wasn't. godaddy has been such a pain in the ars for so many yrs, we might be grateful for this "loss." while trying to setup the new site, i came across all these pix in james's photo cache. so many memories. so many ghosts. the only person you might not recognize is the one of me & aunty rita. she was quite a character, one of my heroes, even if james only met her at the end, when she couldn't tell her funny stories about oj simpson or mean joe green.

ghosts and second-guessers

decades ago my friends ruben and manuel made a blazers (r.i.p awesome east-LA band) christmas cassette tape. it was a load-of-fun-listen. since i've always loved singing close harmonies so darn much, i took the tape and another blank tape (you used to be able to do this), plugged in my cheap mike, pushed play on the blazers xmas tape & record on the blank, and made a new recording that added my vocal harmonies to their recording. undoubtedly there's still so much obsessively rewarding experimentation that goes w audio recording, all digital now, much ai-assisted. but in those days it was so basic, so immediately, tangibly rewarding: stand farther back from the mike & sing so the harmonies don't overpower the main vocals. bounce your voice off the wall for reverb. sing into the wall heater to get fuzz. record the instruments in an old bathroom to get a cool echo. yes, it always was engrossing fun to experiment, for me, in that dark wood-paneled parlor room in that large craftsman home in which i once lived in that long-ago life that i don't much recall... manuel always had such a beautiful voice; the christmas tape, all rollicking rock-n-roll good-cheer, seemed to be begging for a backup, plus, you know: the fun aspect.... my then-bro-in-law, at that time in his life a major ass, listened and sneered something like, "yeah, i bet you wish you could play with them"... i was only a bit crushed bc i knew it sounded good, & in the next decades, i got to play with manuel many times as a member of the big manny band, one of the biggest thrills of my life, & with ruben, too, most often at the yearly chango jams in memory of manuel/big manny... anyways, at that time with bro-in-law i did have a fraud-twinge, like mebbe i was an impostore of sorts. & i feel slightly like that now, adjusting this flyer, but the difference now is that i feel so much more solid about my one-man band. i'm doing it now, fully doing it, more than i ever did, & it feels so powerful, singing, playing keys, kicking the drum. truly, i feel like a badass when i do it. like i'm sposed to do it. and i am good at it. so here is the flyer, & der you go.

erstaunlich

today i missed seeing bernie sanders & "aoc" in backwardsville bc of feeling unwell. mama, angie, cousin thomas, mary fafa, & sister dawn all went & had a 'magical experience" with the packed house, so sh*t. i'm happy for them but wish i'd been there, too... i've been eating vegan since august with i'm sure some slips since animal stuff is in most every american processed food item. don't care at all about the condescending attitudes some pipo have had. i read that bc food is not just vital but cultural, emotional, addictive, any food choice that removes one from the master tribe will cause a person to be eyed with scorn, suspicion, etc., even envy! finally talked to sister & mama so that when we go out to eat, they don't loudly tell me what i can & cannot eat, & still need to talk to bro-in-law. what I eat does not hurt them, plus, bc of the privilege inherent in americanness, i won't starve. at least not right now, w the country insane but still maintaining steady food supply... if in the house of someone serving animal flesh, i try to be a good guest, not a psalm-singing ass. (it's the "when at grandma's" idea. you don't refuse food grandma serves you.) and you know what? most humans don't monitor others' food choices... unless the others make a big gd deal about it!!... i've really liked not having stomach problems & have dropped a bit of poundage, been taking supplements here & there, but lately, increasingly, have been feeling weak, so weak. so after all these months, just now was a big moment bc i had a tin of my favorite canned fish from aldi, just to see if it'd help, but shared it w james since it's been a good long while since i've eaten animal stuff & no need to be a fool... i cannot remember what the book the world peace diet had to say about fish suffering, so that helped to eat it w/o feeling guilty. the result? almost immediately, i started feeling more energetic. james said it's likely the placebo effect, but if so, so be it. i just know i now feel better. like, within minutes of eating the deliciously tender savory fish steaks in yummy sauce. so between tinned fish & the occasional local egg (from a chicken not in deplorable factory-farm suffering), i think i'll be more up to snuff now. i'm no longer vegan, but cows, pigs, lambs, goats, chickens, octopus, my beloved creatures, you all still are safe around me. i wouldn't eat a cat, a dog, or a two yr old baby, so why would i eat you?

no matter how old i get,

i always step in s**t!! you'd think i'd know better by now. argh!!!!!!

love to draw. so pleasing i still somewhat can.

drew these last night, quickly!, using a free online font generator. the table i bought in sta clarita @ the junk store to hold my keyboard had a piece of tagboard in the drawer, & in my pocket was a school expo marker. so i got the wild hair & drew these. such coincidences please my soul deeply!... i remembered that james liked a certain font @ one time i'd found for the stompers. it was easy to recall, being called "third man," like one of my very favorite movies on earth, but memory sez it's the font from the opening of "touch of evil." either way, it's very wellesian, but also blasterish, so that makes this font nearly-ultimate cool in my book... the other is a hodgepodge of fonts, & i like it ok... today we had another snow day, but also couldn't have school anyways bc the water board turned off the h20 in the lower pt of town, where the school is, to make well repairs... now it finally is sunny and beautiful; earlier was icy, icy snow... been reading & hemming & hawing & playing the piano all day with headphones, waiting for james to awaken so i can practice my one man band. my set-up is so cool; i am so pleased with how the pieces have come together so i can play keys, sing, & kick a drum, too. i hope to run it all through my amp so that i can be totally independent. it just feels better that way, especially with the strangeness of what i really want to do. that lonely rockin strangeness is what i still crave, even as i get old, closer to the grave... pumping away at the instruments & voice for 30 mins is like going for a run or jumping around in an exercise class. just love it!!!... gee, sure hope he wakes up soon... on another note, am looking & looking for a particular edition of a children's religious book. think i got it as a gift when i had my first communion 50 yrs ago (preceding a life of hostile irreligiosity turned -- only after sobriety -- to agnostic pantheism)...yes, the little book made my weird little kid soul feel soothed, how good jesus was, the pretty illustrations. it was a particular edition w/ a yellow cover, a hardback, likely from the catholic shop then on h street in bakersfield, but when i turned teen, i cast the lovely book in the trash, snarling (at least in my memory), yet with a pang of regret that still sticks in my craw. like, i knew even then i shouldn'ta dumped that little book, "jesus of nazareth" by mother mary loyola. if you read this & might have a link, thank you for sharing it... it's all an ongoing quest for connection w/the ineffable: the music, the weather, the little book, the relationships, the life-death pull. it's all one pancake.

well, that is it for now.

music

am going to start my one-man band again & open for james next saturday... i am so happy. i feel like myself again! in a musical sense, that is... i will play all the weird songs that i can pull off vocally and pianistically... and maybe with my feet drumming along. we'll see how unrusty i can get in one week... here is the flyer. please share it!

best. book. ever. and r.i.p., gene, betsy, & their canine friend

i ordered it from penguin for $20, including s/h. the real book, the tangible tome, i think you'd agree, is much preferable to the online read. including this one.

below is the best article i've read of the sadness of the last days of this actor, with whom i was in abject infatuation from ages 12-15. (before that was humphrey bogart.)

hackman's character of popeye doyle is a bit like james, at least james's hale, fearsome, tough-talking, irish, rogue-cop parts. of course, as with all people, there's so much more... keep your attention tight on your loved ones, is the message i get. cleave close to your fellows, for "no [wo]man is an island." here is the article: A Lonely End for Two-Too-Private People

blablablablablablablablabla

in another life, i wrote a thesis on the topic of "learning with soul." the idea was if ppl connect authentically to an experience, they must learn & grow. it's evolutionary... tho it's sunday & there's no need to wake early, the animules don't know this & got me up @ 6 am w tinkling collars & expectant pants signifying their need to go potty. my husband is giving penny her eye drops right now, sweetly singing to her that he loves her. she's healing slowly, having injured her tiny paw, which carries a quite portly frame... so this morn i finally made corn bread cake w minced jalapenos, splash of vinegar hot sauce, topped w maple syrup, but not enough binder since i'm still learning to cook, then add the wrinkle of cooking w/o animal products... if you didn't know it, you can replace egg w apple sauce or a "chia egg," which is a T of chia seed mixed in warm water. anyways, tho it crumbled, the cake was great, so tasty w coffee... james woke @ a decent hr & we talked about the male version of the human just wanting to be on stage (endlessly soloing harmonica player) & the female version (woman singing janis joplin or "black velvet"). i recall the time i sang on the crystal palace stage, buck owens' place in bakersfield, & young blonde tarts keened from stage side, "IIII wanna sing, let MEEEE up there!" and @ the time, i thot, they wouldn't say that if i looked more like a movie star, more like somebody, but i think now ppl who go to shows, events, they want to be in the limelight, too.... we just decided i won't play @ his bd show march 16. last yr i had to cover the show bc he was ill, & ppl didn't like that. my forte, too, is NOT shuffles, tho i can do them. i've not much seen my place in james's testosterone-heavy band, not to say i don't love what he does... i am still hopeful the stompers will rise again... that conversation led to his reminiscence of kris kristofferson, when he went to some fest w phil alvin & x, w whom he was friends for a long while, & how kind & bright kristofferson was, & how ppl who sing janis joplin usually cause the walls to vibrate, but janis herself was beautiful bc, again, she was authentic. real. she suffered & lived & it shined thru her music & soul... here are pix of fun last wkend. we drove to hollywood to have delicious plant power, which i wish was on every offramp instead of the other poison pushers, then we walked around hollywood & looked @ the sea of humanity there, a samurai exhibit, the walk of fame, the hollywood costume shop, & the famous hands & feet @ grauman's chinese theatre... the candles are from the mexican supermarket on the way home, so bright, mysterious, & some sinister-seeming... it was a great wkend, & this one's been trying but we're still trudging. ok, i think that's it for now.

oops, i uploaded the wrong pic. the one here is the place of mama's & my dreams, south union, south bakersfield, our trees, our beautiful old farm road, our beautiful eucalyptus looming like grandmothers, protecting, enveloping, they used to usher me home when i was young & drunk, & young mama drove under them w her loud large family en route to redondo beach from delano to visit aunty iney, a trip that used to take 8 hrs in the 40s & 50s... ok, that is really it now.

it's peanut butter time, peanut butter, butter ti-i-i-ime

(sing to tune of "finger poppin' time.") i sang that & james told me, "i saw him do that live." of course, it couldn't just be that he saw hank ballard. he saw hank ballard backed by the blasters... which i only have a bootleg cd of. just by being alive, james always one-ups me, & he's never trying, he's just recounting his life. he's lived more than i have. i wouldn't still live if i'd lived his life... i'm stuffed right now on seasoned black beans & tortilla & rice & onion. it's kind of cold here. we're sposed to have another storm this wk, so we've spent all day working on the house & getting this property ready inside & out. i did every chore except the one i've been wanting to do for months: build a ramp to the little house (antoine pearl junior). might be a little skirrd of hurting myself. anyways, today's been fine even w/o ramp-building. the old man dog is clacking his toenails around the dining room as i type. james took our girl penny to the store. i really have nothing to talk about. did go to an inspiring mtg the other day, with ppl who are into positive action & have hope. that's important nowadays. it sure helped our mama, who's been devastated since november. ;

later that day, me & my big baboo went to a super-fun antique mall in downtown bakersfield, my old home of 25 yrs. so weird to go there now. all those people & cars & noise & stores & convenience. everything seems so much easier in suburbia-city. but also louder, unsafer, more startling, more chokey-aired. back to wagon wheel antique mall, we were having a great time in the funhouse-like place with peeks of the tunnels of downtown, & then james of course says he's been in the bakersfield tunnels, tho me & dad've been trying to get in them for decades, & moreover he knows all the tunnels of long beach... like i said, he's just done so much more than me. ok, i need to finish chores before shower & collapse. here are some pix.