an alcoholic in his cups is an unlovely creature: on picking oneself up & dusting oneself off.

"you can't get a cat and expect it not to meow." - sherri
_________________

"An alcoholic in his cups is an unlovely creature. Our struggles with them are variously strenuous, comic, and tragic. One poor chap committed suicide in my home. He could not, or would not, see our way of life." - Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous (italics mine) _________________ i got to st clare's garden too late this evening, but tomorrow i'm gonna go call on sister b, septuagenarian sister of mercy, recovery maven, saver of lives, world traveler, athlete, brave, funny soul, compassionate beautiful lady, hero to so many.... today, tho i wanted to for one desperate minute, i again didn't drink alcohol. it's been 6,629 days!! the bulk of the reason i've not is cause of my mother & father, i think: i can't hurt them LIKE THAT ever again. people of strong faith, maybe, can get sober more readily, too, believing it's their god's purpose for them. they "move into the light." my faith in the beginning was in the sober group: how did all those rough-looking people not drink, &, in fact, look so happy? lately, the vestiges of my faith have waned & waned as i have disconnected from those brave rooms. still -- intellectually, & after that, the emotional flood of realization comes --  i know there is Something in the stars. i need more reminders; today i remembered i need more meetings & to recommit to the higher power of my understanding. i'm sitting here at this table in crisis, & my heart hurts: how do people who've suffered but w/o ties to close loved ones or a faith stay sober? how do they do it???  why do i -- a person of relative privilege but at-times damning conscience -- sit here sober while so many are dying all around? why do some w/those advantages still drink & die from it, like dear stacy, never to be forgotten? some people have that something: they are survivors. i think of the balloon of suffering referred to in frankl's "man's search for meaning": their balloon swells & swells & contains their misery until they find a solution to shrink it & find peace. the solution? again, i think love & faith, what frankl called a "why to live" or meaning to live... otherwise... i know ones who have white-knuckled it, or they never get it & just die (examples  above), or worst of all, maybe, limp along for yrs & yrs, for the most part existing rather than living, maybe having quite the ball at times, being the life of the party, the guy/gal everyone wants to have & wants to have go down in flames so they can watch, but always alone in those dark moments, with never enough booze or drugs to keep the god feeling flowing. (i know that sentence was crappy & this entry is repetitive & poorly-written. i don't care!!) i know that the ones who never stop drinking alcoholically die before their time; i've seen it so, so much, especially when i lived in bakersfield. this disease is sad & fatal. i don't wanna die that way!! i don't want you to die that way!!!! when i was a newcomer, i got a card that read this: "granted that i must die someday, the question is, HOW SHALL I LIVE TODAY?" i think about that a lot & sometimes it keeps away the demons... yes,  another reason i had to get sober is i realized -- w/some terror, cause i saw i'd had a close call & saw what i'd been doing to myself, my health, not to mention all of those who loved me & whose hearts i was selfishly breaking, "i don't want to die!" i had thought i wanted to, & still i struggle w/suicidal ideation: it's my achilles heel, maybe. but that abiding love of & loyalty to family, the new-found desire to live as long a life as i can of dignity & maybe even some fun, the cornerstone of faith that i have: these all enable me to not have to drink today. for me, to drink is to die, & again, i don't wanna die. not yet!!! i spoke to my/our dear family this eve & all expressed regret & sadness & compassion for a dear one who went out (tho the person's drunken behavior -- selfish, ugly, vicious, cruelly jeering --  was far from dear. see quote above.) i was reminded that in 1995, had i not had my folks' support & felt loyalty to them, i, too would have  relapsed, like this person did. my folks told me that's probably more the norm: relapsing. hmm; maybe so... i know the relapser MUST NOT entertain shame, once the relapse has occurred. cast it aside so you may jump back on that train! the person who relapses has suffered enough, just enduring the long, torturously painful walk to the drink, then finally, inevitably , having the drink. now that it's done, it's time to, as dad said, "pick oneself up & brush oneself off!" i was reminded today, alcoholics drink. addicts use. that they in some cases don't, there is the miracle!!! i am a frigging miracle!! i should be drunk, loaded, or suicidal... none of that's active right now!! thank you, great spirit/pumpkin/nature/g*d/greatness/grandfather/grandmothers/power of evolution!! then i start thinking, sh*t: someone like me possibly might seem intimidating, not having drank for 18 yrs (tho i've been crazier than crazy plenty of times in "sobriety"). our loved one "might need to talk to others who've relapsed so they won't feel all alone or like something is seriously wrong with them," said my folks. man's wanted to experience bliss since 1st crushing grapes (or, w/o imbibing narcotic substance, while gazing at the night sky or a flower or while running, playing music, making art,  in the acts of love or service). it's so easy to grab that blissful "god" feeling from a bottle, pill, smoke, line, or, as i now know it's called, "issue." the condition is common, therefore, the misguided search for god/good/bliss, though to me it's maddening: isn't it illogical, anti-evolutionary, against the life force that humans continually should be drawn to substances lethal? my husband said it's about "thinning the herd." i refuse to believe that! maybe it's a test of some kind,  a way to point out to each of us false- versus real-god. i don't know!! i do know anyone can get sober, if the body & mind haven't been ravaged beyond return & if a person believe & know in his/her (their) heart of hearts that they   MUST STOP because they don't want to die the sad, slow, painful death of an alcoholic -- a heartbreaking agony for all who love him/her & can only helplessly stand by & not much fun for the drunk, either!! i'm so, so blessed right now that i stuck around long enough to learn that my own body can produce the god feeling. i need it; i crave it; without it, i don't feel like i'm really alive!!  to learn i can have that feeling w/o killing part of myself or scaring to death/making bitter/alienating those who really love me? wow. it makes me want to live this way yet another day, despite my moments of misgiving & despair. today, i know i hold the hope for any who might be suffering & want this solution! i've taken for granted my continuous sobriety. i gotta treasure this fragile thing so i don't lose it!! yet, to those who have lost their sobriety, i say as long as you still breathe, there's room for you in the program of alcoholics anonymous, or whatever spiritual solution you seek, provided you want to stop. "the realm of the spirit is broad, all-inclusive," i think the book says. yes, as long as there is breath, there is hope. so if you've relapsed but you live still, there is hope for you, if you want what we have. i am extending to you my hand. please, i beg of you, please leave those deadly waters & climb aboard. i know it's a struggle to get onboard, but do it. the ship will sail in a rocky manner, & on deck life is deadly-serious, w/ever-threat of devastating storm, but it's also brave & joyous, filled w/the camaraderie of survivors rescued from a common peril. those on board are trustworthy; they will know your secrets & watch your back. yes, this ship will deliver you to a new land on solid ground, with tools that work, life-affirming spirit, & connection to your fellows -- much more satisfactory, certainly than the lonely death you faced in those murky, slippery waters -- as inviting as they may look in places... please, please, please, just don't die. http://www.soberrecovery.com/links/relapseprevention.html?bset=0005%3F

snick

my cheap droid phone makes a camera sound when it "snaps" a photo. here are some from lately:

here, at scott abeyta's behest, i try to find out what's behind the "green door" in deadwood, SD, on recent band trip.

w/paul loranger, whom i know from when he played w/candye kane. we've shared 1000s of friends for decades, turns out!

bookends, mr smiley, & an interloper whom james considers to be one of the greatest harmonica players ever..

a great shot by casey reagan. people came out in droves to greet james.

getting ready to head out for south dakota, our friend snapped this pic & she & james are right: it's a great one!

aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

the hound has a blog!! http://thehoundblog.blogspot.com/ now i'm following it! i'm such a fan!!! on our honeymoon thru parts desolate, where not even paul harvey would've come in, were paul harvey still above the soil, we listened to old radiocasts of the hound (link at right someplace). i got to turn james on to the hound!! he's turned me on to so much great american music, so i was happy for this!!
gene taylor posted a jimmy donley song. some folks've thought my musical knowledge to be arcane or specialized, but it's really only pedestrian. for instance, i'd never heard of jimmy donley, so thank you, gene. one look at donley's mug, i had to listen. he sounded tortured, southern, plaintive, rough: like the silver fox, to my ears. his mug? part johnny cash, part ralph meeker, part... my husband. what a handsome devil, for sure, tough & wild, yet w/that polite thing some real men maintain somehow...
that led to a quick search for his bio, revealing tragic stuff. :( jimmy donley was tortured, his life a cautionary tale. read this, by blake butler -- what a writer! it's from http://www.oxfordamerican.org/articles/2011/dec/05/jimmy_donley/ oxford american describes itself as "the southern magazine of good writing"... fo sho!
"Most photographs I've seen of Jimmy Donley look like he's being stretched from the inside. He seems to have more teeth in his mouth than one should ever, crammed into a wide and rugged jaw, framed under eyes that somehow want to either pop out of their sockets or become swallowed in his head. He looks uncomfortable, is what I'm saying, to be captured in his body on film, or even more so, to be anywhere at all, though there is also something in that capture that suggests a tide rolled unrelenting, as if of the way he lived his life there could have never been a choice..."
am gonna tutor today & want to go to the gym. want to see "the butler." in memphis on our honeymoon, we saw a brick bldg near the larraine hotel/civil rights museum, near the arcade where elvis & rufus thomas & everyone used to dine & we did, too. the old sign painted on the bricks read "pullman hotel" -- where blacks working on the trains had to go to stay. i hope it was a nice place back then. probably it only was serviceable, but i hope the regulars had their thing down, keeping their dignity, their peace w/in the effed-up un-culture of jim crow...
well, that's it for now.
(hours later...)
we had a scare. james was commended by the jollyish doc for cessation of alcohol (nine months today. happy nine months, dear! in the ER! dang!) the other day, i had a scare & had to pack my wheezing self off to the ER, reminded not only do i still have asthma, i cannot smoke! argh! anyways, both scares this wk've put us back more than a few semollions, but they'll lead us toward better physical health, so ultimately, rationally, i only can be glad. my dear, dear friend had surgery last wk & i was so blown away when she called the health condition needing remedy, potentially a lulu, a "god shot." this was not vacuous positivism, not candidian, but life-affirming! my brave, beautiful friend! she's right: while we're here, what good does it do to be glum, cynical, & sad?? we might as well be pushing up daisies, being so... ok, off to the store to get supplies for my dear husband... happy 10 month anniversary to us tomorrow. we look forward then to meeting the keeper of the key, tho it may take us a bit to receive or comprehend that wondrous key...

"i don't need this stuff, and i don't need you!" (the jerk)

• ...well, the latter part's not true, but we HAVE been talking about throwing stuff out. it's tricky when you like living out of a suitcase as well as collecting lots of stuff, two seemingly contradictory states, but then, i seem to live quite a lot in two different states (not texas & california, either)... (oh, heh, someone's humor is rubbing off on me.) :) this should be one of the worst days ever, but i feel strangely ok at this second. might be an advantage of having such a poor memory a lot of the time. situationally poor, that is. mama would say strategically poor. doctor might say  dissociated-poor. whatever it is, i feel ok, tired brain & body. we ended the eve w/a run thru an actual neighborhood in this town. nice to know there are neighborhoods here, not just luxury cars & entitled drivers & endless apartment complexes & surfer dudes & dudettes & tourists & expensive vacuous shopping malls. james has the killer pace of a future race-winner. mom & dad asked if his smoking interferes w/his running & i shrugged no. they both chuckled at this yet-another example of james's superior mutant physiology... i am slow & steady but strong, fueled by the rhythmically reassuring pleasure of feet against earth & my imagined connection to meso-american ancestors... i will never win a race except that i will finish, & in so doing, i win them all... the other night at harvelle's i kicked butt. it was a great feeling, knowing i had kicked butt. people tell me i'm talented. i know what i have, w/o arrogance. most of the time i don't feel like anything special except that i am jenny & in that, i am special, like every one of us is special in our distinct personhood, & at the same time universal. but wednesday at harvelle's, i kicked butt. i just love coming offstage wearing a sheen of well-earned happy sweat. james gave me the kindest compliment yet in support of my performance, in support of me as his wife. he went out there & kicked butt, even after he had an accident onstage & was injured. i noticed & came running out, but he stomped ahead. james is all-man & the show must go on, no matter what. he is a born performer, entertainer, "future movie star." that's enough of that for now.
  

  
  

  from the sages, some words about stuff:  
• Navin: I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this. [picks up an ashtray] And that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair. [walking outside] And I don't need one other thing, except my dog. [dog growls] I don't need my dog.
• - George Carlin: If you didn't have so much stuff, you wouldn't need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it... And when you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn't want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff... That's what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get...more stuff! Sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore. Did you ever notice when you go to somebody else's house, you never quite feel a hundred percent at home? You know why? No room for your stuff. Somebody else's stuff is all over the place! And if you stay overnight, unexpectedly, they give you a little bedroom to sleep in. Bedroom they haven't used in about eleven years. Someone died in it, eleven years ago. And they haven't moved any of his stuff! Right next to the bed there's usually a dresser or a bureau of some kind, and there's NO ROOM for your stuff on it. Somebody else's sh*t is on the dresser. Have you noticed that their stuff is sh*t and your sh*t is stuff? God! And you say, "Get that sh*t offa there and let me put my stuff down!"
• - today in my aimless wanderings, i spotted two tiles/trivets that looked like "my" franciscan apple dishes. i picked them up for $1 each & came home to look them up & found they are worth $40-50 each! i don't collect to invest, but still it felt nice to make this little score! today james came home w/a lovely necklace for me of purple-dyed fresh water pearls. i wear it now & am touched anew by his thoughtfulness. i am fortunate to receive such nice gifts & to have the time & resources to treasure hunt, but really, i am not in need of much more stuff... in fact,  it's kinda dumb how much i can love "stuff," like the little baby doll i purchased the other day in bakersfield... it's all ultimately effluvia, after all, some might say, mere  distractions from the tomb. as carlin implies, who needs any of it, truly? of course, there's the comfort element, as well as aesthetic, not to mention it's just fun to collect stuff... until it starts to drive you mad, confuse you, or you see the crew of "hoarders" walking up your front step & knocking at your door ... having written all that, i must contradict myself, as is my nature, anyways: if you find this, which i used to own, but lost in a box of pottery in a sad & distracted move four years ago, please contact me! on its back reads "los angeles potteries 650." yes, to sound like "the jerk," "this is all i need!"
  
  
   

the loneliness of the short-to-mid-distance runner

tonight i ran 2.5 miles through the dark wide hilly northeast bakersfield neighborhood of my youth. bakersfield is punishingly hot from may til october; nighttime, tho, can bring lovely relief, & the streets so quiet & still compared to southern california, the warm breeze & languid cricketsong of evening put me in a mood, remembering the many, many nights i've jogged in bakersfield, & elsewhere: in california, in other states, in other countries, as well as all the nights i didn't jog, all the nighttime memories & all the people & places that accompany these memories, & the mind just takes its own nighttime trip, doesn't it? is this what getting older brings, this ever-pronouncing lean into remembrance? i hope that i don't become a maudlin oldling fixated upon her past. on the other hand, that would be improvement upon the smarmy turd of my youth... nostalgia, longing, wistfulness, reminiscence, homesickness, from whatever it originates: the happy lonesome feelings that stir, of the moment, transience, mortality of oneself, one's loved ones, humankind, the possibility of universal transcendence & bliss or maybe nothingness, it whirls thru my head & catches in my throat & my heart soars & maybe i blubber a little or just shake it off... i jog til it all makes sense somehow, or endorphins take over & then i flat just don't care. this happens to you, too, right?

“the long-distance run... makes me think that every run... is a life- a little life, I know- but a life as full of misery and happiness and things happening as you can ever get really around yourself” (alan sillitoe)

good-night, fellow mortal.

it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

i knew everything in the known universe when i was young, yet never "got" mister rogers. he was just too kind for my cynical worthless smart a** to appreciate. plus he looked like a wimpier version of our dad, which at that time made me mad, for some reason. well, come to think of it, most everything made me mad back then; the world & its people flat just did not cooperate most all of the time... anyways, now i know mister fred rogers was next-to a saint, a worthy, worthy human who did so much to offer children & other homo sapiens dignity, education, comfort, safety: he & all like him are deserving only of the highest praise, & how blessed this world is that people like mister rogers exist to balance all the ones who, for whatever reason, are bad apples & eggs... anyways, i don't know why i started w/that. nice people: maybe that's it. was just watching pbs w/mama & they showed a father coaching his son's ball team, practicing in a fenced-in urban blacktopped yard someplace, & the dad's talking about teaching & modeling forgiveness. then they showed a man i've not thought of in some time, but used to teach about: his son tariq was shot dead by another teen & this father responded by quitting his high-power job & going to the father of his son's killer. these two fathers, one christian, one muslim, then started an organization, the forgiveness project, to "keep kids from killing other kids." here's a version of the article we used to read in class: http://theforgivenessproject.com/stories/azim-khamisa-ples-felix-usa/
the show progressed to scenes of viet nam vets returning to the far-off lands where under orders, & sometimes because of extreme grief & anger & stress, they'd committed acts unconscionable to civilians like me, & it showed these men, haunted all these years, collapsing in sobs before verdant fields & in asian graveyards, comforting one another. "do you want me to hide those cookies?" mama said, looking at me w/good-natured concern as i both blubbered & stuffed my face...  a comparative innocent like me, one who's been privileged to live a relatively easy & dignified life, in the moment only can overeat or cry to try to handle the tremendous emotion that wells up from mere dramatized accounts... why are some of us so fortunate & get to avoid the suffering that others' lives are marked by? i turned james on to viktor frankl's "man's search for meaning," & he seems to have absorbed its central msg better than i. "it's all relative," he says sagely, & i must shut up bc my husband has undergone worlds more suffering than have i, & therefore to blubber on would just dishonor someone whom i tremendously admire as not just a survivor, but a victor, a phoenix, even... i thought of a fellow i met while the band played in rapid city sd, a tall, grey, bearded biker w/sky-blue eyes shining from behind heavy glasses, wearing a shirt for his volunteer organization, www.guitarsforvets.org . he came up on break to enthuse about how much he & his wife loved the band, then happily said becoming involved in playing music for & with vets had changed his life; james trucked up, heartily slapped the guy on the back & declared, "let me know how i can be involved! i can help!" he walked off & james's & my friend noted james is always a great friend to veterans' groups, donating his music & heart w/o reservation... the man's wife, a tall, graying, girlish woman speaking flat friendly minnesotan, later came up & said her husband had "carried a heavy burden for 30 years" due to war & how involvement in guitars for vets had "lifted that burden." i agreed that the power of music is tremendous & healing for anyone, including those who have suffered, those w/heavy heart, the victimized, the wounded warrior. she then hugged me, saying, "god bless those of us who are married to vets," & isn't the universe & its people beautiful sometimes?...
on the trip to-from SD, i was reminded that this world is filled w/good people. james knows many. he is one. i am, too. may you be, as well. good night for now.

bwahahahahahahahaha bwahahahahahahahaha

i can't believe we're actually going to do this... i'm looking fwd to it! my only other time in rapid city, i played tic-tac-toe w/a chicken, having found out about it in the new yorker. life's funny! the chicken beat me twice, then i bore down & started winning to preserve some modicum of dignity on behalf of humankind... the ride should be interesting; i like driving long, long distances, but haven't done it for at least a year, so i look forward to it. too, i hope to download my latest interest, duolingo, to my phone so i can practice italian, french, and spanish while i'm passengering. i hope to get to know everyone better, too. i've not gotten to travel w/a large group in many yrs. it's something i thought i'd dislike initially, but i really enjoy. i like people.... other than that, the latest is that the t-shirts arrived today & they look great. you kind of can see them here; the face bleaches out due to my phone camera being somewhat cheap. "we're gonna sell the sh*t out of those, baby," said james. "you'll be seeing those all over for years to come." i am a lucky human. may you be, as well.

46

I am now on the slide into 50! It's okay because Mama says I am getting wiser, and I know even with all the bumps and bruises that have characterized the garden-variety chaos of this short blessed life, I'm fundamentally a good soul surrounded by other good souls. At this moment I look forward with hope and a bit of nervousness, even, cause I mustn't mess up even one day more, the thought of getting older, anticipating closer ties with ever-more loved ones, more honesty, safety, patience, community, closeness, love, warmth. The hard heart of my youth has melted, and this birthday has brought the biggest learning experiences ever... Well, I am dictating this entry into my dad's nook, bringing interesting corrections such as Obama instead of mama and Willie Mays for I don't even know what I'd dictated in that case, but it was not Willie Mays! The era of Dick Tracy and Buck Rogers is upon us - didn't anticipate the unintentionally humorous parts. :-) Let me see... Today we left Frazier Park for Bakersfield after moving a bunch of heavy furniture yesterday with the family back and forth between the towns... James and I both are pretty sore and worn out and tired from it all, for certain, and wiser how to do such things from now on... Mama made my favorite, chicken marbella, and I got from my husband the most beautiful sapphire and topaz dangling earrings as well as expensive makeup I've not bought in a long time and fragrant fruity tea... Then Mom and Dad gave me, wrapped up all fancy, paper towels, toilet paper, and napkins, all that had been missing yesterday in Frazier Park. Everybody got a big kick out of that! Be safe, be happy, be thoughtful, be of grateful heart for bullets dodged literally and figuratively and the every-new-day promise of doing better and still getting to live. I'm am.

"pink lemonade and mustard dogs, bet some money on the jumping frogs, do some huggin' and lovin' at the county fair..." (whiteboy james)

- we had three days of such a blast, nothing but fun & love & excitement & music... it was incredible! as in beyond belief! getting ready for the show last night even was thrilling as we listened to music & put on show clothes & he said, "we get to go play music, baby! we GET to!"
me: i thought you didn't like listening to music before a show...
him: naw, that's in the car, & that'll probably be different now, too. i've never known a girl who listened to cool music! they'd put on the eagles or some other crap!...
him: like rush!
me: oh, i hate rush! and pink floyd!
him: aw, man! "neil peart's the best drummer in the world!" kiss my ass!! people've told me, "yeah, man, they're heavy. i don't blame you if they make you sad." and i say, "no, mothef*cker, it don't make me sad, it makes me wanna kick your ass! this isn't music, it's like taking a beating!" i mean, the wrong music gives me a headache, makes me sick to my stomach...
me: i've started crying before... one time in austin i threw up.
him: i wanna say, "real music? singing about spaceships & all this other bullsh*t? that ain't music! if big joe turner heard that, he'd beat the sh*t out of you! johnny guitar watson'd stab you! jerry lee lewis would beat you to death with a crowbar, then steal your woman AND your mother!" i mean, these are REAL men -- chuck berry, cab calloway, roy brown, fats waller, johnny cash. "i'm gonna sit right here until i die." that is some heavy real-life pain! [hasil adkin's "the hunch" comes on.]
me: hah! the haz! wonder what HE's singing about? haha!
him: whatever it is, it's beautiful! it's spiritual! this cat is real! i mean, if this music doesn't move you, doesn't make you feel alive, there's something fundamentally, spiritually WRONG WITH YOU!
- james dressed in a black suit & satin shirt w/kerchief. he looked bitchin!! feeling especially music-filled, i wore my professor longhair shirt & hoped a little of that fess spirit would shine through my fingers that night... tony snapped this swell pic, which i post here cause, well, we won't always be so photogenic! uncle jimmy quipped, "is that my cousin bettie page?" drummer ron felton wrote, "cesar and cleopatra"... people in their  inventiveness can write & say some pretty cool things!

our sets went great! the soundman gave a terrific vocal mix & scott lambert, especially, burst with happiness all night long. james's suit seemed to give him special magical powers: he was twice as animated, warm, hyper, tough, funny, irreverent, elegant, cool, & athletic... his harmonica solos were especially bright & muscular! yes, i'll remember the three days culminating in harvelle's as magical ones. we've just celebrated 9 months' marriage! james said, "it's like we gave birth to a baby called happiness!" true as the sun rises each morn: a man of more memorable, colorful expression  i've never met!
today we're going to the county fair, me & james, me & my big smart funny man, & i can't wait! we love love love fairs, but this'll be our first together. james helped write phil alvin's/the blasters' "county fair" song, one of my most favorite songs by one of my most favorite bands.... of course. synchronicity, happenstance, meant-to-be, dumb luck, fortune, quien sabe? sólo la sombra sabe... happy eve or day to you who may still be reading...

it's time for another message from my husband, james, aka whiteboy james

aka the long beach pulverizer, aka mayor of misery, aka your daddy (ask your momma)... greetings, blogophiles! i would like to first of all thank my wife jenny for allowing me to plug my solo blog project: www.jamesapage.blogspot.com ...  hopefully i can steal at least half of her readers over to my blog. i'll give them back when i'm done. is anybody still there? ok, good. my blog will most likely not be as legibly written as jenny's unless i have her type for me. she's a better speller than i am, & just a darned good american. i would like to apologize to all of you who i may offend with my blog, including but not limited to rockers, mods, skas, bluesmen that wear stupid little hats, hair bands, goths, hillbillies, rednecks, emos, hipsters, scenesters, rockabillies, all other billies, and especially you, yes, you reading this right now. you oughta be ashamed of yourself. put some clothes on. what are you doing in your underwear in the middle of the night looking at a computer?? why are you on my wife's blog with no clothes on?? what are you, a creep?? do you know that's illegal in five other countries? countries with real punishments, real prisons, real bad guys... and no cops to come and save you. they'd probably find the kiddy porn on your computer, & you'd be hauled away... well, good riddance, i say.
well, now that that fella's gone to put on his boxer shorts, do the rest of you think you're innocent? are you laughing at that guy? would you laugh if he was there in front of you? would you laugh if i was there? not just cause i'm funny... anyways, i digress. let's get back to the subject at hand. who do you think is the best-looking movie star that ever lived? here are your choices:
1. mel blanc
2. charlton heston
3. peter lorre
4. charles laughton
i guess it's safe to say that charlton heston's the best-looking man who ever lived -- not that the other choices weren't good-looking men. they were all quite attractive in an interesting sort of genetic-piece-of-garbage way. i think they all had hyperthyroid, or whatever you call it, where the eyes bug out. you know, like marty feldman. woody allen also had that condition, but he wore big glasses so you could never really see his eyes... ah ha! i heard that! you scoff: "woody allen married his stepdaughter!" oh, like you're perfect! stop judging people!
anyways, my blog. it'll probably be a bunch of disjointed ridiculous dribble, kind of like what you're reading now, if you're still there. hello? are you still there? the following people are forbidden from reading my blog:
1. adolph hitler
2. idi amin
3. the pope, whoever it may be right now
4. john madden
5. anyone related to john wayne
6. right-wing nuts
7. left-wing screwballs
8. middle of the road bozos who can't pick a side
9. that dude who went to put on his boxer shorts. he oughta be ashamed. don't laugh: you're not perfect, either.
i must go. what do you think i do, blog all night? i am going to google myself and see how many times my picture comes up, read about myself, watch videos of myself... with my clothes on, thank you. and i'll also make out with my wife, something you'll never get to do. anyways, i hope that didn't bum you out, have a good end of july, a fine august, see you in september... or sooner, if you go to my new blog. or catch me at www.whiteboyjames.com for a list of my upcoming shows. feel free to come see my band, the blues express, & my wife jenny, who also is backed by the blues express. all are welcome except the people on the prohibited list, & that bozo who was naked earlier. love your mother, if she's still alive, eat a lot of ice cream, smoke menthol cigarettes, & you'll grow up to be like me. i love all of you. but not as much as i love my wife. good day.

as i jogged today...

i thought about this body, this carcass or "human suit," as james has called it, carrying me around all these years, & had the realization: it's some feat to carry such a thing around for this long, heck, passing 4 1/2 decades now, especially saddled w/the brain it has! this smallish container, one i've lifelong thought to be so flawed, really is a venerable thing, as are all human bodies that endure, even thrive, in this realm called living. heck, the human body itself, no matter its longevity: what a marvel!  yes, mine has maintained & sometimes overflowed w/life & has persevered, in spite of its rather cracked coconut... this morn before jogging at the wetlands i went to a yoga class taught by a woman looking typically "orange county," to my provincial eye: taut, blonde, bleached smile -- but this one didn't mention "working on" her tan even once (a topic sadly common around these parts! don't these females have anything deeper to consider than intentionally baking their flesh? and that such a vapid self-centered topic is acceptable to blather loudly about in public? arrghh!!!) this teacher was of cheerful, husky voice & helpful instruction; she was quiet wonderful! what a delight to find this lovely person in the oc gym-sea of airheads! :D .... ok, now it's many days later! we had the swellest visit to the mtn home & gig there at sue's tavern & hosted friends & finally watched "the yakuza," a flick i knew james'd love w/its emphasis on honor & its plot twists & sincerity. a summer storm hit the mtn & we learned that we each love the smell of rain! we slumbered to its patter on the roof, its musty-fresh fragrance heady... he announced we should surprise mama for her bd, so we did!, driving to smoggy, blast-furnace bakersfield w/chocolate fudge cake & restaurant gift certificate & she & dad were so happy when we showed up! then back to the mtn for a day of yard work, junk & antique stores, chinese food enjoyed w/chopsticks to the poignant tinkle of gentle music &  green of peaceful trees... today was sad for a bit, w/scary news from one of my dearest friends, but her brave attitude touched me & reminded me to be strong & cheerful for her, my dear kind sweet friend whom i don't see much these days... i tutored & my boy was, as usual, bright-eyed & eager to learn, then james swung by & swooped me up & we got haircuts & visited a gorgeous music studio helmed by kind very successful couple & got to hear outtakes of mel blanc spitting out profanities in his inimitably famous cartoon voices! quite hilarious! we ate big sandwiches & came home where i was so happy to ace a few online tests & order goodies to be sent to loved ones for various occasions this wk, then we exercised in the garage before playing music for quite some time. james has such a powerful singing voice, he's never sung w/others, but he's highly interested in ME teaching him how to sing harmonies, so we worked for a while on a song i turned him on to which i thought was hank ballard, but turns out is the clovers. jamesjr came in our rm to visit & decribe a sci-fi short story he wrote & now they're making a fast food run while i type... and life today is good... we're not pushing up daisies.

"even crazy, i'm as nice as a chocolate bar" - anne sexton

here's another one: the maniac

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#pXm8GuigedPWZi5h.99

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#h0W06ZRD6Xe3bMxl.99

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#h0W06ZRD6Xe3bMxl.99

 thank you, billy, for the great pictures...

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#pXm8GuigedPWZi5h.99

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#pXm8GuigedPWZi5h.99

Those eyes that beam so beauteous bright, And all the heaven within declare, May set ere long in starless night Or kindle with demoniac glare. The thrilling voice, oft heard to bless, Whose accents memory would prolong, May tell the story of distress, Or warble sorrow's broken song. That heart where feeling holds its throne, Which fondly beats to love and me, Cold as the unsunned marble stone, May lie in frigid apathy.
Read more at http://www.blackcatpoems.com/t/the_maniac.html#h0W06ZRD6Xe3bMxl.99

all is well...

no worries!
come to the show tonight at harvelle's. bring a family member & get a free whiteboy james & the blues express sticker, hot off the press! he's sleeping & i am making this offer because... i drew the sticker! show up on time (9 pm) or you'll miss my set... unless that's your intention! :D mom & dad are visiting & they loved the library. we've eaten well & had much nice conversation. they have been so nice to james & james; it makes me proud & grateful. before we head to harvelle's, we hope to show them around long beach & san pedro to contrast w/the town where we now live. they have a very nice room around the corner -- makes me realize we've not stayed in a motel since the honeymoon! i spose we will when we go to his show in sturgis in a few wks... that will be an exciting & very hurried road trip! well, right now i'm doing a "bucket list" assignment for my class, so i'm researching the burial site of marcus aurelius. that led to this swell succinct description of a philosophy i'd be most calmed & pleased eventually to be able to live within. i know our dad's character  was deeply influenced by m. aurelius's "meditations," & i've studied it a lot. just hope someday i actually absorb it: overview of stoicism

sssshhhhhhhhhhhwoooooooooooooooooossssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.........sssssssssssssssssssssssss...............

sometimes when i can't take it, i pop a little bitty pill i was prescribed years back. perhaps it's no longer fully effective, but it helps me still! half the size of an altoid, an hr w/it down my gullet i start hearing the ocean swooshing in my head. my face melts placid as a rubber doll's & the steel bands around my forehead, neck & chest release. i get chinese eyes & forget to breathe, or maybe my respiration just slows way down to pro-athlete level, i'd like to think. most of the time after little pill i then will sleep very calmly & deeply for a long time, but today i decided to clean house. it's been slow going, but peaceful... one time i thought i was too panicked to make it even one more day in this realm, so i took two of the little things as emergency preventative  & then couldn't get up for three days. the life of the lightweight nutcase, i think...
don's cancelled at the last second, so we went over to a place at the long beach pier to see gino matteo for a few minutes. james just loves young, plus-sized gino, a pale rumpled guitar player/singer w/kindly worried face. their set seemed of the r&b-soul-feel-good variety to my untrained ear; people danced happily & bunches came out to greet james, & me, too! gino's wife jade at one pt sang an ike & tina song we've been toying w/for our duet & realized probably wouldn't work after all... but it's not like there are too few songs from which to choose! we gabbed & mingled for a bit, then had a very expensive & delicious meal nearby, one of those we'll-always-remember romantic occasions of sweet kind gazes, conversation, view of sunset over the ocean, & fantastically tasty lamb, linguini clams, & fresh bread w/butter. yumyumyum. that part of that day was pure golden!
our challenge is this rollercoaster. neither of us even like rollercoasters, so it's ironic we frequently are on this helluva one... he says we can do it, & i do, too. we are fiercely emotional, but also fiercely devoted. everyone who walked up to james yesterday complimented him on how happy he looked. he laughed, smiled, joked, held me in his arms. his eyes were bright: "it wasn't like this at all last year, or since i got out, any time people saw me, for that matter." friends & fans are glad for him, not just still kicking but doing better all the time, & seem to be happy i'm there, too. yes, his life is getting better, better, better. but it's not been easy: lots of water, sheets & sheets of dirty sludge, in fact, must slough away to run under the bridge & be gone forever. we keep scrubbing, even when it's a discouraging & overwhelming job, cause there's both of us working together on this & the payoff is amazing, we both know. rather than "no quarter," maybe, we now say "nunca te rindas!"
well, time to finish cleaning this cute little place & work more on europe stuff for james before he gets home so we can nap. ...wow! it's monday! if you worked, let it have been pleasant or at least not denying you your dignity...

"i don't sleep, cause i don't need to / i like smoke, i like 'em kool / i'm ferocious, a supernova / baby, i'm nobody's fool..."

yesterday turned out to be fun! we took sister sherri out for birthday breakfast & i snapped the nicest pic of bro & sis! james told me he's never had a pix of him with just his sister. imagine! well, husband, now you do! i am always happy to realize i'm getting to see james grow in family love... he is a man w/more true friends than anyone i've ever met, which i really admire! his circle of sincere support & love is ever-growing, & i know as a people person he really appreciates that. it is good for him & for me!
when we got back here, i went thru all the songbooks of tunes & ideas i've written over the last four or so years & found the above, which i'd sent james in email back in 2010 but he doesn't remember ever seeing. i finished my fourth song of that 24-hr period, sparked by the musical ideas scribbled on the pages. am so grateful my mind writes songs, that the bug hits me in waves & hasn't dried up completely, as i sometimes worry.... i don't fret now if songs're "good" or "bad," just get them down on paper or recorder in case a piece of a "bad" one later can be turned into something cool... the inner critic can be the biggest roadblock to creativity; mustn't give it any ear in the gestation stage! james said he does the same, just lets it flow & then corrects, tho i've seen his song "rough drafts," bearing no apparent editing marks: he will think & think on a song w/o writing down even one word or note, then, remembering its every lyric & melodic part, birth it whole! that kind of memory i find to be awe-inspiring. i don't have it, for sure! ... anyways, the best of my songs of the last day is called "21 days," but that's all i'm gonna say right now cause i believe it could turn into a real crowd-pleaser for james!

happy husband w/nice-guy sidemen tony lopez & blake watson

we got home about 4:30 am, so it was a long stint , but quite memorably fun drive over & back from bakersfield, my smoggy hot friendly hometown. on yesterday's trip we remembered we are both adventurers & a few more actions that bond us like glue! at the show, james was so, so happy that the family showed up. their comments: angie: "i am so impressed!" (swinging her fist in an arc like spanky); dad: "he is quite professional!" mama: "your father has a t-shirt. tell james i want a t-shirt!" doug: "i'm gettin on this. i'm gonna learn all the moves before next time!" so nice to see my former work colleague carla, kaykay, the taft oasis contingent (such enthusiastic fans! they say they'll show up en masse to our show next week in the mountains! ), birthday lady kim, soundman scott, & so many more! today's don the beachcomber show on PCH in sunset beach, so i'd better get caught up on archaeology class before then... happy sunday!

happy fifth of july!!

yesterday, i celebrated 18th yrs without booze. wow! a whole lifetime without booze, nearly. james kept asking me what kind of cake i wanted & i couldn't tell him, so he got me a beautiful tres leches cake. one time after practice at tony l's, we stopped in a mexican market cause james loves markets & there we purchased a warm, juicy, moist, creamy hunk of tres leches, which james'd never had... yesterday's cake was as delicious bc it was from him...

"aliens over LBC" - line9blues

i don't like fireworks time in southern california, i realized. spent most of my life in a place much quieter (tho the air would kill you especially on that day, i now recall)... even still, it was gratifying to observe jamesjr & his young friend set off fireworks & make cynical jokes w/his father... this likely will be the last yr son is w/father on this date or many others, for that matter, so it was important to complete the ritual. their relationship is only about me as far as how i can support it. "what can i do to be useful?" as a human, i'm always best off when that's the  focus... fireworks are the proper use of explosives, in my view as a person who's never been in combat & therefore never has had to know the vital necessity of having firepower... it's heartbreaking & confusing to me to consider how explosives have to great degree allowed me (and you?) to sit where i am, relatively free, the gandhis & mandelas & other pacifist activists of the world notwithstanding... anyway, i'm going off on a weird tangent, as usual. here also are pix from line nine blues review of their 4th of july sights at long beach harbor. now THESE are the kind i can love, mostly cause the explosions are far away, allowing time to cover one's ears. plus the sight of flowers (& UFOs) unfolding across the night sky: now THAT is something wondrous... one time i was in a convent in rome & pulled back the curtains to see fireworks framed perfectly in the window as if just for me, tho i knew they weren't... blablablablablab... i have many other firework show memories, but that's the best one, i think... so anyways, today we got to san pedro & we can't wait. san pedro+the greatest living blues showman=what a great day for which to be grateful...go to whiteboyjamesdotcom to see show details...

"baby got the bull by the horns"... obsessed w/a little port town...

been obsessed lately w/real estate -- signal hill & san pedro, to be exact... obsession! leave me be! problem is, it can be fun to be obsessed, in a teeth-gnashing, sleep-depriving, falsely-creative-feeling way... here are pix of us the other day in san pedro. we had a fun time, as you can see. yesterday & today were/will be shows. tomorrow i visit mountain house to prepare it for visiting teenagers. in five days i will have been sober for two decades minus two years. what a dumb-luck beautiful harrowing miracle this has been. am reading dean karnazes, passages recovery program, a little mcluhan right now. the balmy breeze today is tempestuous, wonderful. yesterday was stifling: visited w/pages in los angeles mall, & their darling little girl, too. i think that's it for now, so be safe, be happy, be snappy, don't be crappy, goodbye.

existence, life, death, rebirth, repeat. & a donut.

after last night's show, we found ourselves playing w/clay til 430 am, making these. james used claymaking tools for his monster, which he said looked like a "ferengi" (my husband is such a nerd in many ways, & so is his son, & so is my family, & it's a good fit, i think); i made the james head because i well-know it & plus i love him. i didn't use claymaking tools, deciding that to be cheating since i'd already started w/o any... i also picked off too small a piece of clay & refused to add more, seeing what i could make w/what i had. i set strange boundaries for myself sometimes... we were up & restless w/news yesterday of the passing of aunt rita's beau, big hardworking "uncle danny," as james called him; i hope that dad is right when he said "rita's danny has gone to his final resting place & is at peace." dad's the most gentle & kind-speaking atheist i've ever met; he would speak reverently of jesus christ w/all sincerity, if needed, bc his polite goal always is to comfort... jamesjr showed me a pic of a clay figure he'd made & given to his friend: it, too, was a head, tho like his father's creation, his was imaginative: a smiling cartoon cow w/jaggedy teeth & lolling twin tongue. i've always been pretty good @visual art & writing & such, but i've never been too creative. i really like what the james's made: they are inspired guys!... was gonna write about music, family, overcoming difficulty, character, bravery, generosity, change, tutoring, the library, but i think this is it for now... except that iron man 3, showing @ discount theatres now, is highly watchable & even has realistic elements emotionally, & ben kingsley is fantastic as the seemingly fiercesome but ultimately hapless villain... may you have a clean, well-lighted place, to quote wolff, & in addition, peace in your heart, happiness in your soul, health in your human suit, & maybe a donut.

sartorial matters & demon eyes!

good lord -- i've been writing this blog for 1000 yrs & just realized i can change the fonts! duh!!... anyways, monique, who goes to all the shows w/her hubby john, bought me this dress! i was even happier when i found out she'd gotten it on the bargain rack! in this pic i'm also wearing a tennis bracelet from kristy, but it's not visible... thank you, ladies! :D monique is tall & blonde, a former competitive skater w/super-muscular gams her husband happily admires as she dances. she always dresses to the 9s &, like kristy, always dances by herself, blowing off steam & digging the music w/no other agenda than to have a great time!... kristy gave me a super-cool fluffy pink coat this past winter; i liked it even more when she told me she'd found it at the $1 store! :D ... i don't usually wear fitted dresses so felt rather weird going out in this, but james saw it & popped his eyes & yelled, "va-va-voom!"
harvelle's was hopping last night! tony lopez snapped this pic. we have demon eyes! i was almost late due to having to go back to get james's coat & dress pants; he stayed too late w/buddy dave, get this, making a face mask of james! :D what a cool reason to be running late... well, today we've had a swell time practicing music & now he's off the phone, so gbye for now... :D

blablablablablablabla

blickblickblickblickblickblickblick
bleebleebleebleebleebleeblee...
i ran too far today. it sure was fun, tho. one thing about living in southern california is, the weather's most often really, really nice. in bakersfield, where i grew up, you couldn't run outside from may-october w/o suffering from the oppressive heat... we ppl from bako have a certain perverse pride about being tough enough to endure the horrid heat & smog w/o dropping dead... still, i'm glad to be out of it for now & know my family's in the most comfortable place in town, nearly!...  so happy the way this wk's shaken out. we got home from a really nice pop's day w/mister gia & the million relatives & jamesjr had a card waiting for his dad, letting him know in his cynical foul-mouthed teen way that he's proud of him & the changes he's made in his life. it's really made a difference, knowing that, like we're a unit on a more-united front, tho i know jamesjr's a teen so he'd rather probably chew off his own leg than have to spend much time w/us. that is cool w/me & how it should be, i reckon. :)  also, the young man's school yr ended, so that's a lotta stress off ALL OF US!! everyone's less crabby now... i'm much busier mentally & physically...  james is getting all shmoothed out, living this new thing called the life of a citizen... today he's got SEVEN MONTHS WITHOUT BOOZE!!! i mean, WOW! and YAY!!! ...
[rest of post deleted... I LOVE MY HUSBAND!!! he makes me a better person all the time!] :D

today

remembering... happy weekend to all :)

:D

this is AWESOME!!!!

 largest webpage on the www: scale model of our solar system
 WOW!!!!

"i was standin' on rosecrans boulevard, had a box-a stolen auto parts in my hand..." -- fractal thoughts...

need to complete the 1st unit in this free archaeology class i signed up for, hosted by brown university (www.coursera.org - of COURSE, mama knew about it! she's a genius!) ... am too-full on chili pasta jamesjr cooked up, so not much blood's flowing in the brain... instead will upload this pic from yesterday of the ultra-photogenic james & his band & blabla a bit.
the wounded warrior project is highly worthy; james & the 44s played in its support in craggy canyon country. monique & her man john drove all the way up from LB so she could dance & he could smile; they are some right-on nice-folk devoted fans, & the bigger & stronger james gets, the more moniques & johns he attracts & the more detritus sloughs off... motivational speaker tommy middaugh was one of the organizers of the WWP event; he's the guy w/o whom james & i'd never've been able to marry, we were such nervous babbling wrecks at his vegas spread last oct 21! he made it all happen! thank you, tommy & lisa! ... tommy told me alotta nice things about my piano playing & character, then declared i am james's "mountain." i'm always made nervous by such talk, but on the way home, james shared more horror stories of days' past & it clicked why so many ppl think i've done this: you can't go from there to here. this quickly.
unless you're james.
since oct 2, his life & mine've changed hugely, but especially his, for as james sings in the roy brown song, he definitely is "a mighty mighty man"...nothing can stop him 'cept him, like nothing can stop me but me... go, james, go, i say! grab that brass ring!
well, his band's europe trip is sculpting up nicely, & just heard yesterday the band is going on the road! it'll be great to see the dark, spiritual black hills again! that pt of south dakota's one of the swellest places i've ever been, & i've been lots of places!... we got burgers w/kaykay & cindy on the way home & i'm so glad to've been there hearing those two tough big-hearted gals tell a hilarious & hair-raising story about saving a pack of dogs' lives by hurling weapons & deserved invective at the dogs' slimeball owners (then cindy, a life-long animal rescuer, actually took the dog injured & did triage, saving its life!)... the burger joint employees' faces kept peering nervously thru the window as cindy & kaykay snarled & cussed their brave & violent & gut-busting tale of canine rescue & human comeuppance.... at the end, james said what he often says, w/that gleeful & gigantic grin of his: "sometimes you gotta be a stop sign. i'm a stop sign,... & you were, too!" "hell-f***in' YEAH!" yelled kaykay, & all i could do was laugh out loud w/admiration...
today at the swap we were drawn to a sedate & fragrant giant sitting calmly in the middle of the bargain hustle-bustle, a magical tree that we marveled at, touched, smelled: "can you feel its energy?" james smiled, & you COULD! its balance & musk & shade were not just comforting, but transformative -- truly! last wk i started reading a well-written tome about deluded monsters-masked-as-males in a fundamentalist church & after throwing it across the rm in disgust & snarling that all organized religions are ridiculous fantasies foisted by bullies & believed by half-wits, calm returned: there IS order.  there IS good: beautiful, orderly direction. positive universal growth. even if we humans in our terrible defects can be so ruinously ugly, stupid, petty, vicious, etc... the Life Force simply is & cannot be stopped. god is in the trees. in the mountains. in the breeze. in us, deep within. ugliness, fear, violence, shame, grief swell up like waves swell, but then break -- change comes like that, the way a fractal on verge of seeming chaos snaps back into patternly order... the best books i read last wk were "zen & the art of writing" by bradbury as well as "too loud to see, too bright to hear" by juliann garvey, both about ppl like us, all broken & miraculous & human & flawed & divine... then we were talking w/tommy about god & da vinci & pain forcing change & i saw this quote from the "secret" gospel of thomas: "if you bring forth that which you have within you, it will save you. if you do not, it will destroy you."
well, back to reading... chili's about digested now.

"you do not have a soul. you are a soul. you have a body."

(i saw that quote on a facebook page called "the idealist." wow!) just came back from 5 days at the mtn home... wow! the mtn home is refreshing & clean! but now, back here, i like it here, too, even if it was left a mess i had to clean up when i got back... fortunately i love to clean! back to the trip, at the flying j as we caravanned out, the counter dude told james & i, "a place in the mountains and one at the beach. nice!" and i realized, yeah, nice! the weather here at the beach is really turning wonderful; i see why people flock here in the summer, when it's so smoggy & hot elsewhere: not just to view the ocean's lovely explanse, but for the breezes, the quality of the air, kind of liquidy, balmy, cool like a good quenching beverage, lapping smoothly at the skin... aaah... the mountain air, too, is so pleasant, cool, revivifying, & the mountains & birds & solitude (don't have that here at the busy beach city) so, so calm the soul... aaah.... yes, my life would be in perfect shape if the enemy between me (our) ears would just cooperate, or give up & come to the winning side! we have it all... the final & ultimate challenge for us is to quiet the enemies... they only weigh about 3 lbs each, for heck's sake, & really are just circuit boards we SHOULD be able to control. today, i do, & he does, too! tomorrow? we'll just see. i just know i'm the one for him, & him for me...
yesterday i started tutoring for school on wheels & am so grateful to again be working w/kids. as i looked into the eyes of the children in the rm, i felt a part of me coming back that's been dormant since i quit teaching in summer 2010. we of the gia clan are born to teach!! & we are not dictator teachers: we are servant teachers. we are the best kinds of teachers. we are noble!! i don't care if i sound arrogant; when i work w/young people, i know know know that i do good & am good!... my kid likes planets, so next wk i'll bring him planet activities. this means i'll, too, learn about planets. double win!
combine this w/library volunteering (feeding my ocd itch), playing music weekly, & -- isn't this the greatest?!? -- starting a free archaeology online course from brown university today, i'm getting a schedule back. i erroneously thought early retirement would be a kick-back easy life. but i've come to realize tho i'm no longer the brain or prodigy of my youth (thank you, drugs & alcohol), i still require a lot of mental stimulation! & i don't like watching tv! & i don't like sitting still or laying around! and i need to help people! not w/a savior or superiority complex... again, we were born to be this way! one of the days away, i ran down to bakersfield to help sister move her classroom. yes! moving boxes, sweating, squatting, laughing, moving, talking about school & kids, i just loved it! my sister is a fantastic human being! the next day, she & doug & the girls came to the mtn house w/loads of food & movies. what great people they are: kind, in service to humanity, funny, loving... husband showed up on insomnia binge & went for a hike in the beautiful mountains behind the house... we were watching"the unholy three" when there was a huge explosion due to highly unstable elements!!!! thank goodness no one was mortally hurt in the end-- we got out just in time!! i love my husband, & he loves me, & we save each other all the time. eventually we'll do so before calamities ensue!... anyways, i better go to walmartland now & get a phone card. blablablablablablabla to you!
ps - oh crap! here are links to some stuff i mentioned above... free online college courses from universities worldwide: http://www.coursera.org  ... tutoring homeless children since 1993: http://www.schoolonwheels.org/ ...

the aging human suit... blablablaing while waiting...

am finally at the age where i'm noticing i'm aging. it's natural & inevitable, plus it's weird & kind of sickening/pathetic to look young/try to when middle-aged. older ppl still think i'm much younger, but pt of that's my high-pitched voice & stature (no midget, i remain 4 inches shy of the national avg of 5'7"). a thousand quotes, philosophies, wisdoms, as well as james, reassure me aging's natural & pt of life, but i write here about it cause i'm sort of (well, sometimes a lot) body dysmorphic for whatever reasons -- having been a fat kid, a biracial kid in the 70s, screwed up serotonin or adrenaline in the brain, whatever. so i am dolled up right now waiting for husband to get home for our gig & i look in the mirror & think, could be worse. get over it. a happy soul trumps all, evidenced today by the lovely woman at the mtg who was jolly, spirited, sparkly-eyed... and 96 yrs young. if you are a spry sober person, next time someone tells you how young you look, tell them that's cause you're pickled. it always gets a laugh & defuses any discomfort, least for me...
i'm happy my spouse & i are the same age. we not just are growing old together, we have common cultural references, even tho i missed a lot of tv shows he saw, since we didn't get those channels in bksfld & also our family didn't have cable tv (unconscionable today, maybe, except in the weirdest egghead households... i recall only one such family in my 17 yrs working w/kids & the girl was brilliantly strange, talented & brainy & now she's a beautiful successful college student/actress, so i think her family made the right choice restricting her access to the boob tube...).

yesterday we went adventuring & saw presto's magic shop in its final days. james got a trick magician's hat & i some trinkets. yes, presto's in northeast long beach closes this friday at 5 pm after over 30 yrs in biz. seems a real shame! any loss of any cultural influence not corporate, well, that's sad, i think... well, hubby should be rolling in any min, so i place here a pic from yesterday: he drove us up signal hill to hilltop park where we saw monks in wind-blown golden (saffron, maybe?) robes taking carefree pix & viewed downtown LA, long beach/the harbor/queen mary/catalina island, & huntington/the beaches all from one spot. it was really lovely, peaceful, nice. we went to a junk store & antiquing a little, then enjoyed evil-laugh inspiring decadent donuts... we watched a passable doc about lucy & desi starring a very talented woman, rachel york, then "night stalker," which we love (it seemed so scary when we were kids; now it's creepy but mostly so, so funny! carl kolchak lives!) today i read from thich nhat hanh's "anger" & one of my all-time favorites, don marquis's "archy & mehitabel." both are so different yet wise & quotable, but no time right now: look them titles up, if you want some good reads... we went for a long walk @ the wetlands after the mtg i mentioned & saw many birds, bunnies, lizards, tides, swampland, & a jurassic-looking thing on the hunt that we think was a blue egret,  then i jumped around aerobically while he went visiting, bringing us to now... well, he's here, talented brave awesome james,
so it's off to play music. be well, be in your bliss, it's a wonderful transient life, enjoy what's left...

the root of all evil

... in a civilization, anyways... pre-civilization peoples no doubt found ways to wrong one another, tho i hope not calculatedly. i cling to the idea that humans are inherently good. very anti-christian, but that's how i was raised. however, i think the introduction of abstract commodity couldn't've been a good "progression." humans began to lie to, cheat, steal from, even kill each other for say, a scratched rock or inscribed tablet, or, as i saw at the sta ana museum recently, a length of colorful fabric from a wooden spool... am still groggy from a sleeping pill, so will write now about money. it's been on my mind. i worry about the crap all the time. it has driven me so crazy, i had to take a sleeping pill. this'll help.
growing up, we didn't have it much at all, but we had the library & we had a home & we had love & we ate a lot of spam & mama learned to be a good cook who could make a nice meal from not a lot (now they have money & throw lavish, generous parties bursting with food, but that's the reward to two generous people who did w/o for decades). in our household, there were no drugs, no alcoholism, no serious mental illness, no violence, no infidelity: it was a blessed home, i now know, tho we had little money. dad was really tight w/the dough, too, having been raised by his beloved depression-era grandfather, & we have many family stories, now told as jokes, about the things he'd do to save it, like put a timer on the shower, turn down the water heater when visiting teenagers showered (he still does this, actually), put a block of wood on the heater thermostat, no vacations ever. mama made our clothes or we got them 2nd-hand. we ate out once a month: i remember sizzler & mcdonald's. he parceled his cash into different envelopes & desk drawers: each drawer was a separate bill. he doesn't recall this, but i sure do: it had a huge effect on me. our allowances started at 25c a wk, which would buy a comic book or a candy bar but not both, so i'd steal, being a kid who was part rat. we topped out at $5 a week by end of high school, getting allowance rain or shine (it wasn't based on chores, but to teach us financial responsibility). by that time, i carried a small notebook; dad had taught me to write in it whatever i spent money on, from a coke & a twinkie to a pack of gum or mad magazine.
over the years i became, along w/dad, a family joke, the skinflint, the cheapskate, the eccentric,  but out the gate, i saved & saved. i do NOT buy new clothes. i drive an old, very unglamorous car down here in generic orange county rich & vacuous land (at least this town seems to be that way; it's as irritating as was teaching 5 yrs at a privileged school; i wasn't raised to be in a place like this, but it's not forever.). i've always been a bargain shopper, & not much of a shopper at all, really. consumption culture is evil, i really think, creating zombies w/no imagination (i know that's redundant), tied to purchasing the latest soon-to-be obsolescent object destined for the landfill. the more new things i buy, the less free will i have, i believe, tho the corporate promise & consumption ideology say otherwise. very orwellian, really...
in adulthood, i worked 3 minimum wage jobs & saved money to get to europe then, once i got sober, taught for a long time & amassed a small fortune (to me) from work. i was married for many yrs to a hard-working wealthy guy; we kept our finances separate cause his ex was greedy & wanted to attach my wages. nice try, greedy: she got not one penny from me. i saved & saved & saved & lived (for me) a wealthy lifestyle, even w/in my self-imposed financial limitations. it was incredible, but it ended; my ex & i were friends, but didn't consort like husband & wife. it gets too lonely that way & could no longer be... we cut ties & i bought a mountain house cash &'ve gone on many trips national & international & had anything i wanted, w/in my cheapskate boundaries, & now of course i'm remarried living in this unhumble town of, i must say, nice breezes & library: it's not awful at all, but i'd rather not be here. still, it's a necessity for now, & married to james, i have daily opportunities for emotional growth, much in common, friendship, PLUS very strong devotion & love. that's better, way better than a pile of dough in the bank, no matter how high. but the financial worry... oh, what i do to myself is so ridiculous. so to simplify & make happier this new life, i decided in the next few days i'll relieve myself of a whole bunch of it & it's the best decision i've ever made, nearly, besides getting sober & marrying james. i can't wait to shed all this what is for me evil but what for others could be empowerment & security & a chance finally to exhale & drop the rock. yes, financial insecurity's always been near the top of my fear inventory when i work the steps: worry of losing it, worry of being without it. screw this. the more i have of it, the more fearful i become. once i do this, life will be so much better for me, for him, for this family.
these have been my ramblings on the topic of the root of all evil.

the lowest note

one time (my only time) at the NAMM show (frankly, tho am grateful my friend ruben got me in free that yr, i was kinda bored, not being either a guitar player or hep to 99.9% of current music), i played (for only about 10 seconds) a gulbransen grand that had, for some reason, NINETY-SIX keys. if i remember right, the extra notes were added to the bass register. they seemed extraneous, tho i'd certainly not say no (double negative) if someone offered to give me/us a beautiful behemoth such as it, or any other grand/baby grand, for that matter. heck!
the lowest note on the traditional piano keyboard is an A. james & i today worked out yet another rendition of "take me back" & figured out if i play at the very bottom of the keyboard, it gives the song a rumbling, haunting tone that contrasts its plaintive melody... then i played him a song i wrote yesterday, but think i'm gonna table that one for now. it's a good, but not great song, & he keeps singing another one i wrote recently, so guess that'll be the one we add... at this rate (hope i not be tempting fate), more songs'll roll outta me (doesn't seem to be a songwriting drought lately, as i experienced for the 2 years prior to james)... yes, we should only do our GREAT originals! he also sang & we played a mordant traditional tune, this sort of jangling death reverie, that i think definitely needs to go in our show as well as an intro he said was from big bill broonzy. yes! let's do it all! how many ppl in california's american music scene are imitating such vernacular sounds? that's one thing phil alvin said right: it's our duty to carry forth the music of the great ones who came before us. we must! we will!

yesterday i was goofing around making posters & writing only-good-but-not-great songs (dang it, we need to do "the same page" - that's the best one i've written in some time) when james burst in the rm & said, "you're not dressed? we gotta go, baby!" aaaah! i called the green poster here "good enough" (it's not, but that's ok: our musical duo is pretty seat-of-the-pants, so the poster's appropriately in that vein) & hurriedly pulled on some female duds, then pancaked on a stage face as we drove to harvelle's. there we met james's prospective director, charles, a nice-seeming sort who smiled thru my set & james's 1st. we had late-night breakfast @ our fave PCH all-nite diner & this morn, he made all his calls to strike up financial support for the film... by the time i woke, he'd had 100% success w/his calls &, surreally excited that this thing seems to be, yes, a go, he dictated & i wrote 7 pages of memories/ideas for the film... well, geez, that's it for now except that dang this laptop's running slow, so  JAMES, STOP GETTING ON MY COMPUTER!! yes, my husband is a musical genius & the bravest, funniest, sweetest, toughest man i've ever met, but when he's in an insomniac creative-goofball jag, my computer somehow winds up a mess!... oh well; it's sure not a big deal & actually is kinda funny :D ... good things are afoot, good creative healthy things, life most definitely is copacetic, & yes, i know i run toward run-ons, & oh well.  :D hey! if you're still reading, may your day be brave & true, & if not, may it be quickly through so you can wake up tomorrow & try again. "I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear." - nelson mandela