Monday, December 31, 2012

Name Dropping

So, I'm over at Jonathan's (the 12 string guy) and we were talking about opportunities ignored or declined, and the varying reasons for the bad call.  We were discussing past instances in which we fell into company with what turned out to be major players.

Anyway, such discussions can take on the character of fishing tales at the local tavern on the waterfront.  You can usually tell after awhile.  J tends to embellish when telling some stories, but not the ones involving name dropping.  I've concluded those are legit.  And his skill on 12 string is obviously on a level, and has a style, that good players might want.

During the discussion the name of a guy that is not famous, and who played a major role in offering me an opportunity which I didn't take.  At the time I was more clueless than now.

OK, so I was explaining how I still remember the guy's name and that it was XYZ.  J says, that name rings a bell.  I go on about how this guy chose, wisely, to fly jets for the FL Air Guard, declining a chance to tour with a name group.  But he still jammed with them when the were home.

The guy was reputed to be a monster guitar player.  Super nice guy, totally humble, no affectation whatsoever.  I mentioned those things to J and he said he met him in Nashville, that he had something to do with a music production outfit.  He went on to give a physical description, which I had not done.

He's hear XYZ play.  So, is this coincidence?

All of Copper Creek is playing a set at this New Year's party.  I hope I play like I did at practice.  Either I'm delusional or I was finally playing like the real deal.  It's cool and disconcerting when you feel like you hit a new level and enjoy the confidence attendant to that.  Invariably, a little period of confusion and over thinking follows.

I have no idea why I sometimes can do well on anything thrown my way, excluding Orange Blossom Special, and other times everything except the simplest thing throws me.  Lately I have not only felt comfortably free, but I think I've been paying more attention to the timbre and quality of notes and chords.  I also pay attention to everyone else who is playing.

For me, that is what makes it enjoyable to play with this group.  I like listening to them.  Same goes for some other players, but I think this combination of people is special.  I'd love to add a bass and drums or percussion.

I figured out that everyone brings some appeal, but what grabs the crowd is when L is the lead vocal.  She does one semi-blues tune and people notice.  There is something to the quality of her voice that I like.  Vocals that grab you aren't necessarily those that can hit the most octaves and notes.

Not everyone likes him, but enough to make him mega successful.  That's Willie Nelson.  I like him, and I like his voice.  He won't be doing opera soon, but his sound grabs a lot of people.  Doesn't hurt that his harmonica player is one of my favorites.

Anyway, maybe I'll make more effort to motivate these guys.  I'm pretty much in two bands that are practicing and not gigging much, if at all.  J may have a gig later this month. If that includes me, then good.  I'm almost certain it does.  Not sure if this gig will include everyone.  If it does, that is better.

Whatever the case, if I'm going to spend so much time playing, I may as well work it out to start getting paid.  I liked it when we were playing frequently in Memphis.  It didn't usually pay much, but it paid.

I've got to quit playtime someday and figure out how to pull a serious income.   First you get the idea, then you get the nerve, then you have to make the right moves.  People do it.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Everything is a Cult

Instead of to the usual Saturday gathering I chose to go to Poway for various reasons.  That should be no issue, or so one would think.

This resulted in phone messages, and online harassment.  Mild harassment, I should add.  Nothing which might require a high powered legal team, and bending laws in a Supreme Court decision.

Even so, it is creepy when you can feel the flack because you didn't remain in lockstep with a clique.  It is like what happens when a Black politician is not on board with the Sharpton/Jackson line of thinking. They suddenly become "cornball brothers" or worse.  Not "Black enough".

The message?  Do not buck the cult.  Any deviation from cult mores and rules constitutes a horrible crime.

We have plenty of cultish insanity sweeping the country and the world in various forms.  And the rules of engagement tend to be whatever serves the perverse pleasure of the group.

For example, the increasingly popular union tactic of demonstrating in front of people's homes.  It is clear harassment, not legitimate exercise of free speech.  Oh well, ends justifies the means, and in true union/cult fashion, the terrorist defines himself as victim, thereby excusing all crimes he commits in destroying his enemy.

Not sure how the paper which publishes the names and addresses of conceal carry people, or those who otherwise register weapons, justifies its actions.  It is a bit of a stretch to blame the fools* who register their guns for murders they did not commit.   Very few crimes of that nature are committed by registered, legal gun carriers.  Very few.  So harassing them is an odd choice of reactions.

But the victim thing kicks in when the crusade gets rolling and facts are ignored except when they are convenient.  There are those who find extreme happiness in causes which have little to do with solving a particular problem.  They enjoy naming enemies and having a focus for their hatred and tears.  Truly a mental illness.

That seems to be the case of the newspaper.   Although I totally understand the emotion behind those retaliating by publishing the addresses and such of the news reporters and editors, I can't condone it.

Wars waged through the abuse of personal privacy cannot end well.   I don't care what your numbers are or if you think you are the 99.99999999 to infinity percent, that bit of harassing families and residences is wrong and I would support the home owner in chasing you off with firehoses or shotguns.

So, I detect this weak form of human behavior and thought leaking into realms of life I once considered safe.  That which is not the business of others too often is considered information  to which they are entitled.  They think they have right to know, when I think not.

And I do see it as a kind of cultish by-product.  The only reason such aberrant behavior has power and acceptance is due to the hold of the cult.  The cult uses peer pressure and/or mob action.  Few people will stand up to that because they either cannot think for themselves or they crave acceptance on any basis more than they care to live by a code of values.

This year I plan to make more waves, more enemies, and throw up the finger when appropriate with much less hesitation.

*I said fools only because it is increasingly clear that registering guns and being all legal and on the government's approved list sets one up for easy targeting should mandatory buy-backs or confiscation of guns occur.   I suppose you have to trust someone in life, but I think finding someone with a better track record than the current authorities would be desirable.

Friday, December 28, 2012

Old Lang's Lime

Even after reading an explanation of it, I still don't get that song, and I don't like the sound of it; makes me sad in a creepy way.  Has to do with the trauma of youth, I suppose.

All I know is that New Years eve is one of my least favorite festivities.   All the holidays which beckon amateurs to try their hand at getting drunk and running around in public doing stupid things are on my least favorite list.  It's all in My Book.

Even so, someone is having a party in a room of a restaurant or bar and I will be in attendance.  It will mostly be a lot of people playing music and that is why I was invited.  I'm not sure where the place is located, but I know the general vicinity.  I think they set up roadblocks between here and there.   Not a thing I like even though I don't even drink.

With luck I can escape prior to midnight. That is my plan.  The place is closer to the city than I like.  I prefer the less populated areas during times of mass merriment, enhanced police oversight, and crazy traffic.

I sure did become spoiled in a short time after moving here. It is a nice area, and I have the luxury of living out in the sticks with a great view, distant neighbors, not much traffic, and low crime.  It's kind of a house of cards in my case, but it is a somewhat idyllic (in my world view) circumstance, house of cards or no.

Just Floating Thoughts

Well, they may not be just, as is "just and fair".  I guarantee they aren't fair.  I've grown to despise the way that term and unfair are used.

It seems that in years past I rarely spotted any deer out here.  They aren't on Ballistic Mountain, per se, but they are along the roads leading here from the east and the west.  I creep along those roads when it is dark.  I passed two tonight that were very close to the road on the inside of a curve.

They blended with the background and I didn't see them until I was right there.  The shoulder was narrow, and they exuded an air of such idiocy you could cut it with a knife.  I wondered how such cute, but dimwitted, creatures could live long enough to achieve the size of these two deer.

Fortunately, they just stood there.  They were facing the same way I was.  Otherwise they'd have said, "Oh boy, headlights!  Let's dive into them!"  As I passed, I could tell they tried to catch a little headlight buzz, but they were too late.

Where are the coyotes when you need them?

Best of 2012??

That was the title of some show on hulu.  You can bet I passed on that. One thing I've figured out about hulu; the staff there sees the world through a lens far different than my own.

Either that or they list their staff picks according to how much they want to cause total strangers pain.  I guess that is still demonstrating an outlook far different from mine.

The good thing about no cable, no satellite, no tv other than what I pul off the internet, is that I can dodge the over-done drama, and the wildly insane discussions.  At least, I can avoid such things to a point.

Because the world ended Dec. 21st, and we still find ourselves slipping into a new year.  It's just around the corner.  Bridges are for new centuries and millennia.  Corners usually work for new years, I think. But you can't underestimate the value of "on the horizon".  Lot of territory can be covered with that.

Oh back to the thought.  Due to the above stated status of the universe, I think I should just answer some questions bluntly.

What can we do about the violence?
Legalize self defense.  Other than that, you can't fix it by making laws and wringing your hypocritical hands, like a miser contemplating a big pile of money.
Really, what laws that weren't already in place in these sites of violence would do any good at all?  What good did those already on the books do?

Fiscal Cliff.  or to some, physical cliff.  Morons.  But, hey, morons are people too, and their opinion is just as valid and important as anyone else's.   Nothing more to say.  I think I captured the kind of reasoning which is carrying this dog and pony show forward in my previous sentence.

Overall, violence has not increased in the USA for quite some time--allegedly.  I can't tell the difference too much in my personal life.  I've lived in too many different places to be a good judge.  Miami was violent, Greensboro wasn't too bad.  Memphis was nuts and criminal.  It is rather relaxed here.

There are always neighborhoods that everyone knows are dangerous.  Part of the big pretense.  Pretend that they are just responding to things out of your control, and blame yourself if you take a wrong turn and get attacked by zombies.

Anyway, I find this area to be OK.

I started off, off subject, I think.

So, you know how the number one hobby among cats is acute paranoia?  I wonder if people have that same thing, and the real smart people know how to make money and enjoy power by feeding the paranoia and anxiety. We may be cats, and not even know it.

I can't tell you about the few interesting facets of 2012 in my world.  I do hope 2013 is more prone to abundance.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Christmas Is a Good Influence

Regardless of one's religious beliefs, within some limits, the Christmas hooplah, even the big over commercialization of it, serves as a small link to the past.  Some of that would be erased from the culture, and any records if many trendsetters had their way.

The image of people tipping their hats as they passed on the street, around the end of the 19th century, or even later, is something worth preserving.   And I certainly wish we had the girl selling matches in the freezing snow, half alive due to poverty and bad luck.  She was a person of character and honor.

I really wanted to comment about the end of the world.  Doesn't it seem that the end of the world is about the same as the middle?  I'd have never guessed that the end of the world would be the same as before the end.   I'm not sure what I would have guessed.

What if the world did end, and this is how death works; you just keep doing whatever it is you think you do.  Probably not.

Seriously, it stands to reason that the head calendar guy for the Mayas said, "OK, let's knock off now, we have the calendar set up until the end of this big era.  Who makes plans hundreds of years in advance anyway?  Let's just pretend we're working. Who will know or care?"

So, they just quit with the calendar thing.  Such a coincidence that the last day of their calendar coincided with the end of the world.  People sure do crave prophesy.  It is like a mental illness which is intrinsic to our species.

I realize that pointing to anything which is of European cultural origin, like the added social niceties and kindness which our stylized remembrance of things indicates was present in old fashion Holiday Land. I may not be white enough to get orange Blossom special, but I do feel at home with my imaginary images of people on the street from the land of Dickens, and Scrooge.

It doesn't escape me that there were some very poor people, hard times, and all that, but I am fine with ignoring that, and instead focussing on the ideal of the times.

At any rate I like Christmas despite the fact that I have trouble with some of the tenets of just about all of the Christian religions.  That is really not the point.  I'm not out to change the various churches. There is something to be found in this holiday that is of a positive nature without involving one's self in religious debate.

How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?  As many as will fit.


Saturday, December 22, 2012

Holiday Disclaimer

On the off chance that your long anticipated Christmas, Quasi, Hanukkah, Solstice, or Rumdum greeting and/or gift has not arrived, and if I got your holiday wrong or improperly spelled, you can be sure I'll send it sometime later on. Maybe in 2013.

I may have either forgot or just didn't get it done because I live in another time zone.  It doesn't mean you weren't on my mind, or that you shouldn't send me things of value.

Figuring out if someone is married or otherwise taken can be a trick.  Especially of others are around and the dynamics make it awkward and unadvisable to quiz the object of interest.  That's right, I said, "object".   Why is that?  I think it is because I am obviously not PC, and must be a real masher.  Is that bad?

I'm going to find a way to learn the facts of this case, and proceed accordingly.  

I stocked up on trinkets to bestow upon various people, and I ran out.  There have been years when I spent twice this year's total budget on each of maybe five people.

The ones that mattered most cared the least.  It is a bummer to give something you think is cool, and know has market value, but the recipient doesn't like it.  I've only found a very few people in my life who did not appreciate either the significance of a gift or the item itself or both.  It has happened though.

Fortunately, I have no concerns this year.  Everyone matters, but not in that way.  And I went to no great expense.

I like all jingle bell lights and such around.  Out in the sticks Christmas is much more enjoyable than in the congested areas.

Friday, December 21, 2012


So, after laying out for a week or so, I showed up at the Thurs coffee house open mic.   It being the one before Christmas, I figured it would be an interesting event.

A lady I've never played with (with whom I've never played) asked me to play.  That worked pretty well.  She sang well and kept a steady guitar going.  It was good to just lay in a little background.

Then a guy I haven't seen for at least 6 mo.s asked me to play.  The time I played with him, long ago, I didn't feel like I was able to do much with the tunes because of the complexity of the progressions and trouble feeling the melody.  Not that he doesn't sing well.  It is just the sort of thing that's tough to get a handle on the first time.

Well, tonight was different.  That happens.  It all has to do with where my mind and attitude are.  I couldn't play any of it now from memory, but at the time I was able to play all up and down that progression, and in a way that worked with the song.

Then Cliff played, and as often is the case, he wanted to play stuff that I could nail.  He covered a song written by a friend of his, in C minor.  I'm not sure how it sounded to others, but that may be the best I've played.  We also covered a John Mayall tune, something about Don't blank blank blank with your jive.  Blank stands for, I don't know the word.

Laying off, and not playing for a little bit helped.  I played some yesterday so I wasn't rusty.  It is rare that I play on that many songs, especially including some I haven't played, without hitting any notes I sorely regret, or feeling like I have limits and need to play it safe.

Still, you never know how it sounds unless someone sends a recording or video.  They may have both. It felt good and that has been missing.  That probably came through.  Most fun I've had playing in quite awhile.

Some people before us did Christmas stuff.  One guy did such a nice job, both vocally and on guitar that I opted not to play any seasonal tunes.  The ones I would have played were mostly the same and I liked the guitar version better.  That opened me to jam on that minor key thing and the Mayall tune.  And other song too. Kind of a bluegrassy version of House of the Rising Sun.  I believe this version is the original which predates the Animals by maybe 100 years.  It's actually a very old song.  I really like both versions, but this one is perfect for Cliff.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Got to Do Something!!!! neurotic;panic;hysteria;

It happened after  911, and happens all the time on the local level in places like California.    Disaster strikes, whether man made, lone lunatic, gang, hurricane, earthquake, doesn't matter.  The immediate aftermath sees the same bunch wringing hands, hysterically breathless, demanding that "something be done!!!"

Facts be damned, reality be damned, logic be damned; JUST DO SOMETHING!!!!  it doesn't  have to make sense.

Not one of the measures used by TSA in searching and screening passengers would have prevented 911, but everyone feels better because we gave up most of our 4th amendment rights to be sure it didn't happen again.

So, here we go with wild, unsubstantiated statistics,  erroneously derived causal relationships, general name calling for any who question facts--be they bogus facts or of some substance.

And a whole lot of pain by proxy.  Tragedy surfing.  I feel the pain more than you, so I'm right, even though neither of us actually experienced the tragedy.  Our contest is to see who can hijack first and fastest.

And of course, let's use this to put more power in the hands of those who create the majority of stupid problems; our federal government.   They will make it better, just like they do everything.

Geez, people.  They are making money and enjoying power, and it has absolutely nothing to do with what the say.  The think we are so stupid that we'll just keep the ones in there who sa what we want to hear.  Forget what they really do.

And they are right.  People want to appear smart, so they go along with those who appear smart.  Doesn't matter that it is pure fiction made up to increase the power of those already in power, and soothe the guilt of the hysterical idiots doing their best to transfer pain of a distant event to themselves.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

My Unusual Life; part 12162012

So, I figured the party the 12 string guy convinced me to attend would be mostly a Mormon get together.  Did I ever mention that this guy is the king of vague, and mild surprises?  Well, he is that.

It puzzles me that I put up with it, except that the adventures prove educational and generally enjoyable.  Strange, but worthwhile.

Anyway, first we go to a children's nativity thing at a Mormon facility.  I chose to follow in my car so I had travel under my control.  The affair was quite informal and their about a thousand kids and maybe 40 adults.  I respect people who multiply like rabbits, as long as they take responsibility and parent the kids.  No one can say these people do not do that, and one way or another, they seem to provide quite well for them.

However that works, we went from there to the party.  I'm not sure who he knew that handled getting us invited.   I figured out along the way that this wasn't going to be like playing a gig.

We did play some, and it got the attention of one person there; a pleasant surprise.  She may not have been the only one, but the others do not represent the same potential.  The value of this remains to be seen.

When we arrived and were introduced to the host, he pointed to the food and the beer and the worth soft drinks.  Most of the time, if they have non-alcoholic drinks, they are things like diet Sprite.  This guy had old timey root beer and other things that did not have diet drink sweeteners.

I have no idea what was going on, really.  I think it may have been a company party.  Lots of Mexicans who seemed to sort of enjoy themselves but they'd speak spanish to one another like you weren't in the room sometimes.  I understand enough to know they weren't talking trash.

The host looked kind of like a hippie surfer.  He had some nice guitars but he didn't play.  It seemed that we made some friends, but I have no idea who does what or why.  We played completely acoustically, sitting in the den (?) by the fire.

There were adults, kids, smokers, non-smokers, drinkers, non-drinkers, and what looked like Mexican banditos.   Nice house.  No telling where the money comes from.  Lots of people around here seem to manage decent income, but I have no idea what they do.

I don't know how I wind up in these places, but it is cool when ages range from 3 to about 87 and a half.  These people were not Mormons but they do well with the kids anyway.  Not a creepy kid in the bunch.

The guy seemed happy we showed up because it kind of livened things up and offered a buffer of sorts. I think he felt like he had to keep up some kind of guard with the people from whatever company it is they run.

I left with more questions than I had going in.  It was worth the drive.


Friday, December 14, 2012

Today I Love Everyone, almost

There are times when I refuse to join the macabre bandwagon which involves adopting tragedy of others as one's own.   Depressive roller coaster that I seem to be, I find no art in using, and relishing, the pain of others to feed my already swollen narcissistic tendencies.

It has been nearly 24 hours since I smoked.  Something is amiss and I am not sure smoking wouldn't cause serious damage; more than is already done.  duh

Anyway, I have felt myself react as if I have an aversion to cigarettes any time I thought about it today. Kind of like I feel about boiled, unseasoned squash.

We relish these days of rain here in SoCal.  It rained all night and sprinkled all day.  Temps out here in the 30's, chains required for Sunrise Highway.  Still overcast and wet.   The roads are more slippery than they'd be if it rained more often due to build up of oils and such.  Not everyone gets that concept.

Some people, and I have no idea why, tend to tailgate even more in the rain.  I suppose they are surprised when they crash.  Rain equals crashes like crazy in Southern California.  Bless them one and all, I'm sure they mean well.

Turns out the cowgirl up the hill has been Jonesing for some Richard's Delicious Seasoning.  Major points were made when I had a brand new container of it to give her.  Thanks Joel.  They all think it was my idea.  They have no idea that you almost had to force me at gunpoint to take a jar of it with me on my travels, and try it.

Maybe I'll play that party with the 12 string guy tomorrow night.  I still haven't picked up any practice harps at home, and I'm skipping the afternoon open mic at Downtown Cafe, El Cajon.  I was once at that place with Dorrie on a hot afternoon.  A big part of it is all open air but with a roof over your head.   ou can do that here without bug worries.  Outdoor style space heaters in winter, and misting fans on the hottest days.  Much of the time no temp adjustment needed.

Actually, hanging out there has tempered my view of El Cajon.  The highway patrol office there may suck. Does suck. Bunch of fascist idiot thugs.  But, that little strip where Downtown Cafe is located is a nice area, with sidewalk cafes and whatnot.  It is a short walk to the courthouse complex, in case you get into trouble or want to score a marriage license.  The CA highway patrol office is miles away.  where they belong.

So, though I am not jumping up and down cheering in manic bliss, it is clear the cycle is on something of an upswing.  I can certainly observe my own peaks and valleys, and know that I can only listen to the happy stuff if I am to survive.  My "not today" technique for ignoring the worst of it pays off.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Climate Change

It seems my eyes have become heavy nimbus clouds, raining an ocean.  No other explanation for it.  Climate change.  I know it hasn't always been like this.  Probably a serious thing.  Or not.

A very competent professional once told me that a lot of people who cross that line into permanent insanity, or maybe severe depression, actually have some awareness of the point at which they gave up the fight and the hope.

That is actually useful information because I've often felt myself approaching the doorway to that room, but chose not to enter.  Not today.  That's what I tell myself. Not today.  The choice is still there.  To have choices is to have power.  Believing one is free to choose gives hope.

So, let it rain.  That's OK.  Just don't drown.  Some things can't be helped, but more often than not there are different ways to react to those things.  Choices.  Not like the best of the options leads to eternal bliss or riches, but any shred of power over one's predicament is better than nothing.

I still haven't picked up the practice harp.  I have a couple of Hohner Golden melodies, couple of Lee Oskars, and a couple of Bushman's which I have handy for practice.  Plus the amazing Susuki Easy Rider, a very cheap harmonica which, in this case has lasted a very long time and plays well.  It happens.  That's the one I have yet to bring back from its place in exile across the room.

I did go play with my mountain friends at K and L's last night.  These are nice people.  C and his wife, L2, (two different L names so we have L and L2) were there too.  We ended up singing Christmas songs, including 12 days of Christmas.  L had the words and she, L, and I rotated verses.

Mine were the three French Whores, lords a leaping, swans a swimming.  I know, French Horns, or is it Hens, is the proper thing.  Just how it worked out.  Perhaps wishful thinking.  Wasn't my idea.  I was told what to sing. I prefer the way we did it.

It would have been rude not to play in that situation, but I can't play at home right now.  And I am not going to any of the other usual things this week.  There is a request to play at some kind of party with the 12 string guy, so I may do that. I won't know anyone there and maybe some magic angel will be there to heal me.

Home alone is when the weather changes and I am in less control of it.  Most problems occur in or near the home.  That tells me that long distance travel is probably the best way to avoid trouble.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Uh oh, Penn Wins Own Award, Edging Out Foxx

Un be friggin lievable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“He’s one of the most important forces we’ve had on this planet,” the actor said at the candlelight vigil for the health of the Venezuelan president, who is currently in Cuba undergoing his fourth cancer surgery.

I guess if anyone reading this is fool enough to believe Chavez and his idol, Castro, are good human beings, then that person sees nothing wrong with theft or murder, and probably would assume this sycophant of foreign dictators and thugs, Sean Penn, is a hero.

It's beyond words. Really.  Is it something in the water, or the air?  

Sorry, Jamie Foxx, Sean Penn just edged you out for the Sean Penn Righteous Fool Award for Dec. 2012.  You're still going to get the Al Sharpton Racist Jackass Prize, though, so chin up!


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Maybe Time to Quit Again

Playing the stupid blues harp used to be fun.  Sometimes.  At the very least it was a way for me to scream and cry without anyone knowing that was what it was about for me.  The one place I could express whatever that gut knotting conflict that consumes me is.  Sometimes.

There were times that I threw away the harmonicas--out the car window--and quit for a year or so.  There were times I did other, more productive, intellectually challenging things.  That must have been a long time ago.

In my usual foggy, delusional view of life, I had come to think I was at least a mediocre and somewhat original player.  Then the subject of Orange Blossom Special came up, and there was a guy who can play it well.

I still cannot play it.  Not only do I just not get it, but whatever it is that you have to do to play it right seems beyond the capability of how my body is made.  Can't do it!! Can't can't can't.

On top of that I do not even like it that well.  I admire those who can play it, and kudos to them.  It's a friggin fiddle tune, and unless it is played like a mellow violin, I don't much like fiddle.  Only sometimes do I like bluegrass.  Nothing wrong with it but it does not hit me where I live.

I tried to figure out the OBS again, and got so frustrated I threw the harmonica across the room, and I refuse to go pick it up. Right now if I get near it I will smash it under my shoe.  Too bad no boots are handy.  I do have a sledge hammer, though.

If I cannot play that tune and play it as it should be played, I must be much worse than mediocre.  I'm no good at all.  Nice people around here but I wish I had never started playing with them.  They get the kind of country music that I don't and they like orange blossom hell.

I'm going to avoid the next two or three get togethers where people play, and often ask me to sit on things I don't know, don't like, and don't understand.  It has ceased being fun because that gut thing gets no outlet with this stuff.  And seeking out more bluesy or rocking venues would mean dealing with less likable musicians.  Everyone's a badass in some of that, or drunk or drugged, and I don't like anyone right this minute.

I can't turn down the group up here on the mountain if they expect me to come play tomorrow night, but after that I may lay off for a long time.

It isn't that I even want to play that tune, although tune gives it more clarity than I think it deserves. It is a classic in some circles. I wish only fiddles were allowed to play it.  It is that I should be able to do it.  If I could I would play it once, then tell people that's the first and last time.  But I can not do it.

It makes me want to drink, I swear.  And move away.  And I hate being me, even though I wouldn't want to be anyone else I know, just maybe be sane like some people I know.

Weird how the most insignificant thing can set a person into a psychotic self-destructive rage.  Or at least make you feel like you are inches away from letting reality go completely.   That's my life.   One tiresome, losing battle against nothing.

I do have a theory about Orange BS and some of the other music I just don't feel.  I may not be white enough.  It's kind of a reverse on Steve Martin's Jerk.  Then again, I'm not very black either.  I'm not even sure I'm human.

Monday, December 10, 2012

Vere Ah Your Paypahs? hmmmm?

Coming soon; random obesity checks---How much do you vay? (for those who've never known even a taste of 4th amendment rights, that is a reference to the oppression of the nazis circa WWII) 

I've had time to cool off, but I'm doing a slow burn, with pent up rage aimed at every idiot teacher, cop, and adult in America who is too damned bull-headed to comprehend how irritating tyranny can be.  And how their compliance will come back on all of us, and already has.

Only a mile or so down the road from my house, on the way to Descanso, the Border Patrol decided to set up a make shift road block.  Not just for an hour or so.  They may be there for days for all I know.

Hardly anyone ever takes that road.  Most people get groceries and such in Alpine.  The road loops between the two towns.  It is 2 lane. You see more animals than people.  I live in the sticks, partly because I am sick of officialdom.

Today, as I was headed to Descanso post office,  I encountered the orange cones and 5 mph signs.  I noticed the trailer on the side of the road which contained elevated big lights.  I slowed and went through, no stop.

A few hours later, I came home that way, which I often do because the road is usually empty enough that I can put the car in neutral and glide the last 3 miles.  I like that road.  The bright lights were blazing, the border patrol cars had their cop lights flashing and they forced anyone coming through to stop.

"What country are you a citizen of?", I was asked.  "U S A", I replied, although inwardly I was thinking "The Independent Republic of F$%^ YOU! and the bastards who hired you!"

I know Mexico is maybe 10 miles further south, but that does not constitute probable cause for stopping me, shining a flashlight at me, and through the back windows of my car to see what I have in there.   By rights I could have refused to answer, demanding to know why I was being asked and if there was any reason to suspect me for doing something illegal.

If I were here illegally, and got stopped by a local cop, the cop is not supposed to ask me anything.  You give up that privacy if you are a citizen, I think.

It is a problem created by government.  Insane drug laws, and insane tax methods.  Go to the Fair Tax, just can the drug laws and forget it.

The thinking is the same that grade school teachers used when they would hold the entire class hostage until someone either fessed up to some indiscretion, or someone else told on the perp.  Half the time, most of us had no idea what was the crime that set the "educator" on the warpath.

This has gone on so long that most people have no idea what freedom, even a little of it, is supposed to be.  You are not supposed to have to prove your innocence at the whim of authorities out in the middle of nowhere.  And that is what roadblocks are; places in which citizens are required to prove their innocence of crimes for which there is no reasonable expectation that they are guilty.

If such things do not scare you, you will do well in the People's Republic of Compliant Idiots.

And the bit about, "If you ain't doin' nothin' wrong, then ya got nuthin to worry 'bout", is absolutely mindless BS.  I worry about anyone or any institution that stops me, essentially at gunpoint, hoping to discover I've broken some law, of which there are so many that no one person knows them all.

I'm usually polite at such encounters.  This one, right in my backyard, flipped the switch.  I was not happy.  Had I been in a muscle car I would have laid rubber for half a mile on my way out.

Things are as they are because, throughout humanity's history, people will believe anything, and they don't mind forcing others to comply to their wishes whether or not the others' normal actions would interfere with their right to seek happiness.  They are more inclined to go along with things if little crumbs like obamaphones are tossed their way.

Part of the Big Pretense is that any of it makes sense.  I live just outside a Sanctuary City--meaning illegals needn't worry about have their feelings hurt-- yet I am required to prove my legitimacy within sight of my own driveway.

Want to fix immigration worries?  Use some logic, fix the underlying system which both rewards moochers and encourages thugs.  That goes to the tax system, the way that criminals are actually compensated should some aberrant institution like Mexico's government whine that some sheriff defended himself when the thugs tried to run him  over, etc.

And the drug thing.

That is money and power which includes the governments who declare war on drugs.  Another bit of pretense; wars on inanimate objects and vague nouns are truly meaningless.  But they are good excuses to use the people's money to enrich some slimy power brokers and their pals.

Needless to say, this particular development which has placed Big Brother in my back yard, sent me over the edge.  If I had a big old truck, really big, I think I'd just go crashing through and destroy their vehicles in the process. Good thing I don't have a bazooka, big truck or anything else more forceful than a Subaru and a machete.

You can believe that one or the other of these disgusting political parties has validity and makes sense, but the truth is they have given us tyranny in little bitty doses, adding another and another, so that we could swallow each increment without much trouble until we ate the whole thing.  This is not right, not respectful of the rights of individuals and not necessary.

Speaking of useful idiots.  Here's one that is on a roll.  Give him the Sean Penn righteous fool award for Dec. 2012.

Hoho and Spice

So, by some quirk of fate I've become the Christmas carol player.  I don't know, just happened.  I go to these music things to force myself to be around people.  And it is a nice bunch.  It challenges my playing sometimes but is not really the stuff that allows me to spontaneously combust.  But it makes me a lot better for when I do.  The main thing is that it keeps me off the streets.

I had a word with Richard, of seasoning fame, and am now set to replenish the supply of those who liked the stuff last year.  I may only give it to those who've mentioned their affection for it, plus a few newbies.

I've run out of Howling Wolf, but still have that pimenton, La Chinata. I think that is the name.  I've used it sparingly because I like to make it last.  That is great stuff.  Try it on home made quesadillas, and more.

Before I lived here, I never paid much attention.  Now I get a little antsy when I don't have two or three cool seasonings that you generally don't find at the grocery store.  I'm addicted to them.  And they all tie in with Christmas. It just worked out that way for some reason.

Wish I had something worth writing.  I wrote this to force myself to stay in the game, and to avoid discussing Boner or Obama or any of the many disillusionments I may have with The Big Pretense.

Still thinking of heading off at the end of the month to some bizarre locale.  Maybe I'll go camping at ... never mind.

Friday, December 7, 2012

If Memory Would Sustainably Serve

I know buzz words and chic code phrases when I hear them, but I tend to forget, so I think the ticket is to make a list which is constantly updated.

One common thread on trendy words and phrases is that they often lack much meaning if harsh analysis is applied.  Lots of what I think and say has that same vague foundation.  It's a curse.

These words are used quite often to imply that an argument is settled, and debate unthinkable.

Off the top of my head I can list several PC and oddly chic terms which are used to influence people and promote whoknowswhat:

give back (actually phrase, often in front of 'to the community')
The Rich

The longest lasting, and one of the least well defined words is "fair".   When kids use it, it means "reality is not how I wish it to be".  Unions use it to mean any number of things, usually with the bottom line being we, the management of the union, demand power.   It rarely means equitable, or anything to do with quid pro quo, value for value, etc.

Fair is a good one.

I'm sure I'm missing the best ones.  Just can't remember.  Perhaps "braindead" is one of them.

This did not work out; can't remember what I was thinking, and don't like how it worked out.  This idea seems unsustainable, and it is not fair.  I know there are many diverse, green, eco-friendly terms and ideas I could have considered which would have made me feel more empowered.

For the longest time "empowered" meant "As a female, I am now more powerful than males".  I know, that sounds so bad, but it is the truth.  Empower was constantly used in a sense of political sex war.   Now metrosexual males in places like California tend to use it more.  It is great when tied in with "giving back" in diverse, and earth-friendly, green initiatives.

So, what am I saying?  I don't know for sure.  I think I am saying that our culture has been so bombarded with mind conditioning nonsense for so long that a huge portion of what we think, and how we direct those with guns and badges to control us is total and utter non sense.

It could just be me that finds his mind is nothing but a clutter of nonsense.

edit:  How could I forget FISCAL CLIFF?  Or, in some circles, physical cliff.   Because everyone from repubs to dems to news mannequins use the phrase, it must have real meaning. What it means I'm not sure, but unless the cliff is only four feet high, it is probably painful to go over it.
I'll bet the Bridge to the 21st century was put there so we wouldn't go off a millennial cliff.  It must have spanned between two cliffs.



Congratulations and A Little Rain on the Parade

Good for Washington state.  Drug laws, especially ones involving hemp and cannabis are a sap on the treasury, and an affront to free people.   Just because one agrees with that statement does not mean one is using drugs or suggesting it.

I don't use cosmetics or get tattoos, either.  Doesn't mean I wouldn't be alarmed of such things were illegal.  Your choice.

So, good for you.  Aside from the fact it ought not be an issue, it is kind of like throwing up the middle finger to the Feds for regulating what they have no real, legitimate right to regulate.

Oh, Obamaites, your golden boy has not called off the dogs in this area.  They still raid California dispensaries of medical marijuana on an irregular and inconsistent basis.  BO ain't as cool as you think. Whether he cares what's being controlled or not, he is not going to stand up for what's right and let go of any power. Power and glory.  Very much the nature of that game.

Anyway, to rain just a little on the parade, expect WA to issue the permits and such for sales and production according to the forces of cronyism, and hence corruption.

Still, it beats wasting another dime on worrying what someone might be smoking.

Little Thought on Cost to Society/National Interest

The doctrine of 'compelling state interest' has an evil origin. The Supreme Court created this so-called 'balancing test' in 1944 to justify the criminal arrest and imprisonment of thousands of innocent Japanese-Americans.

Those aren't my words. I pulled them from an article somewhere, and since I am not a news source, or expecting to receive a grade or a promotion, I'm not bothering to further vet this.

The article goes on to say, blalblablablabla, etc.
The 1944 Court dared to assert that it could balance the 'interests' of The State against the rights of individuals."

The matter of the interests of the state trumping the rights of individuals has been one of greater and greater concern since that time.  

I find it odd that those most likely to separate us into ethnic groups, and then decide who needs what based upon such foolishness, are the same people who think rights of the individual are expendable and  really just permissions granted by the state.  The same people who, over 60 years later make a big deal of apologizing to the mostly dead Japanese who were locked up.

Hypocrites.  We'll know mankind has truly evolved when we find ourselves governed so sparingly that it will be like gossamer compared to the thick wet heavy wool under which we function today.  But people can't be so small as to relish the thought of controlling the resources and personal choices of others.   Presently, most people cannot resist that cheap bit of power and revenge.

Hence this ridiculous generalization and demonization of The Rich.  A campaign largely conducted by those who are far richer and more powerful than most.  You'd think those on the bandwagon would ask themselves why those who fund and instigate such tangents do so.  

Thursday, December 6, 2012

They May Not All Be Crazy

But you sure see a lot of pictures from certain parts of the world in which people take to the streets, giving up all personal space, to form such a tight mob that if you died on the spot you could not fall down.

If these people are not nuts, they do marvelous impersonations of lunatics, and so do their official, and unofficial leaders.

Here we see a man putting on his best lunatic impression while his armpit valet carries on with his duties.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

You Can't Handle The Truth!

The old line from a Nicholson movie.   Actually, I can't handle the truth.  My truth scares me, when I let it.

So, I rarely write about real life in my fog filled bubble.  It all seems so simple on paper---do this, do that, fix this fix that, get rid of all that clutter, this clutter, and clean up after it.  Find woman, drag to cave, make happy.

Every once in awhile, maybe three times per day, I see something or think of something and say, "Oh man, you really blew it.  You squandered one perfectly good life."

My goal is to change that before I die.  I think I want to fix it before it is all gone.

I think people are crazy in groups, and fear freedom and all that,  but then I wonder if I am wrong, considering how difficult I find the simplest of normal life tasks.   Is it possible that I am crazy and they are right?  Or maybe I am right, and crazy.  I believe the latter to be the most accurate assessment.

It is the holiday season, and I guess this time of year brings out the remembered pain of numerous heartbreaks, the horror of bad judgement and irresponsible actions of the past, and fear when I realize how empty a certain part of me is.

Where to go from that is not actually a mystery, but doing it appears to involve taking down a 4 foot thick concrete wall with a ball peen hammer.

In the mean time, I have to go by the house of some friends on Christmas.  Then I think I'll disappear for a few days to a campsite on the edge of the earth.

None of this should be a surprise.  I knew I had serious disconnect and lack of cultural understanding way back when people first started playing air guitar.  When they actually began staging public contests for this bizarre sport, I realized I may forever be lost in this world.   Then came disco, karoke on Beale St in Memphis (dubious blues capital of the Delta), and reality TV.   Clearly my best path is not one which involves understanding, promoting or keeping abreast of pop culture and its many mysterious twists and turns.

If I can't figure that stuff out, how can I be surprised at all the other crazy stuff?  Let's all hope to win powerball so we can be filthy rich, but let's carry on a cultural campaign so that the words "rich" and "evil" become synonymous in the minds of the people.  I want to win lotto and be rich, but for now I hate THE RICH because they are all meanies.

First we had that Bridge to the New Millennium to cross, now we are all going to be cast over THE FISCAL CLIFF.  I've yet to even see the bridge, which means I may not have made it across into the glorious 21st century.  Perhaps being tossed over The Cliff would be the kindest thing.


Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Foreign News

What is the deal with news departments hiring Brits and others who aren't American and don't really understand the place?  It's worse in CA I think.  Any accent other than one common to this country is seen as intellectually superior.

The people may be bright, educated and hard working, but in cases like Piers Morgan, they haven't a clue why we are not England, or anything remotely related to philosophy of freedom.

Maybe CNN thinks Americans can't report news with such a blatant disregard for fact checking and critical thinking.   So they hire smarmy foreigners who don't know the difference between liberty and tyranny, or fact and fiction.

I'm stunned that people get paid to be such dimwits.   Go back to England, Piers, and tell them your theories on what our Constitution means.  People like that are why we are here.  First their pompous heavy handedness contributed to it, and then their arrogance at underestimating their foe.  Qualities which Piers proudly wears wherever he speaks.

Here's a little added statistic for the gun argument.

Those who encounter other humans and who carry a loaded weapon are 100% more likely to shoot some one or get shot than those who never encounter other humans and never carry a gun.

Monday, December 3, 2012

O Holy Smoke

Dear God inem,

Why is it that if we have to have a world with countries that are theocracies, they can't be Quakers,  or some happy fertility rite focussed cloister?  Or both, like one owns Iraq and one owns Iran.

Look, many of us get the joke.  We got it a long time ago.  So, how bout changing the skit to something a little less hardcore slapstick?    One big massive global brainwave treatment to reset minds might help.  Then again, maybe not.

Thank you.

I prefer to remain anonymous if you don't mind, so I won't tell you who I am.

Buy or Die

Buy or die, you lowly mofo.

I'm with/usurping your federal government, and I'm here to help you!

Of course, if you would just fill out the proper forms, and forever remain under our scrutiny, proving your state of income, etc., we might just give you free care, access to which would also be subject to approval and our assessment of your needs weighed against society's priorities, as we decree them, on a case by case basis.  See?  You can't lose, my filthy little peon of a citizen child.

Now, join the other 50% and thank me.

Better yet join the 30% who pray to me at night and know that I am holy.


Guns and Lunatics

As usual,  another allegedly famous person, of whom I had no knowledge, is involved in a gun debacle, and our oh so wise, learned TV celebrities decry our freedom to own firearms.   If only whatsisname had not had access to firearms he and his victim would be alive and happy today.

The thought is that more regulation would make it all better.  If we restrict gun usage to only government agents and military, then we'll be OK.  We've done what we can to disarm the military on their own bases, and that worked out very well in helping the guy who ignored the rules to slaughter people on a military base.

The arguments tend to ignore the reasons that people like me would consider having some firepower handy.  When a thug is threatening, admonitions of "don't take the law into your own hands" offer little in the way of immediate conflict resolution.  Wait a minute, my good man, let's call 911 and see if we can settle this matter.

It is a shame that anyone needs or uses firearms to influence or stop the actions of people.  They are an effective tool in the process of self defense when one is outnumbered or out muscled, or when an intruder or assailant is armed.  The fact that there are so many people who believe in taking what is not theirs -property or life-by force will not change by disarming the harmless.

Although it is like having a pea shooter against a tank, I like knowing people can be armed simply because I think the biggest threat to property and life is the institution which has the most firepower--government.  Tyranny functions best when the people are rendered impotent.

It has nothing to do with hunting, or any of that.  It has to do with last line of defense in trying to maintain control of one's own life and destiny.  It is hard to enslave an armed group of people.

Thugs and cops present the biggest danger to one's freedom, if they are not somehow contained.  Usually one needn't be prepared to resist cops, but sometimes things get out of hand.  A government which fears the people because they have means to revolt, should they see the need, is better than a government which has no such fears.  It is one weak link in the system of checks to the power of the state.

That is why the foolish sheep, and the savvy purveyors of the religion of governmental solutions to problems both real and imagined, are all for disarming those who abide by the law.  The more we can't protect ourselves from the cultural results of decades of failed policies which helped facilitate the network of sociopathic criminal gangs and other aberrant forms of life, the worse off we are.

The cases in which senseless violence is in play are often the results of cultural decay, and The Big Pretense.  To think certain kinds of movies and video games have no influence on behavior is a bit naive.  That is not to say those things are totally to blame.  They are more a symptom.

We glorify mass murder in games and movies and even in the news, then wonder why depressed, confused kids who lack social skills and popularity decide to make a name for themselves in some tragic manner.   Lunatic shooters, even if thwarted get more press than people who make breakthroughs in research and invention.  It is sad.

But then, if you see a wonderful, work of art, movie, the fame and credit goes to the major actors, and rarely do you have a clue who actually created and wrote the piece.  That is kind of an interesting thing. It is remarkable how good actors and directors can bring a story to life, but the one who created the story and laid out the blueprint for the film is not of interest.

It takes little thought, and seems to be a case of jumping on the band wagon, when pundits reflexively assail gun ownership and the right to carry as if that is the root of the problem.   They sound like a broken record.  I accused the main news media of being the government's sales force many decades ago, and it has only become moreso over time.   They always seem to think that authoritarian rule is the answer.

When I saw that Costas had to do a little editorial during a football game, and heard the content of his message, I couldn't help but believe he was idiotically parroting the talking points of the usual neo-bolsheviks in order to gain cool guy points with the other useful idiots in the entertainment world.  Surely he didn't really try to think this out.

It amazes me how easily people will jump on peer pressure causes if they think it will cast their image as cool and intellectual.  Especially without the effort of really considering all the factors involved.  This is why people can be led into some form of slave state cheering and with their consent.

Oh well.  This is why decent and smart people should be breeding as fast as they can--the problem is cultural and the more good people that are put into the mix, the more likely it is that the culture will veer away from the Big Pretense and stepping on the sanctity and rights of the individual.

I suppose seeing the story of how Worcester, Mass. has been buying guns from people by offering a free flu shot and a grocery store gift card put me over the top on this.  Turn in your weapons and we'll toss you a little treat!  If I wanted my money to go toward buying guns, I'd buy them myself, not vote my tax money go toward that. Or your money.  Maybe all the peace officers in that town are saints, and the thugs all lined up to trade weapons for vaccinations and food.  Somehow I doubt it.



Metaphors and things.

For some reason I was thinking about football just before the game, and the coaches inspirational words.
I guess it would be more high school or college.  I'm not sure if they give the same classic form of inspiration to a room full of millionaires with unions and contracts.

Whatever the venue, good words would be, "Save your hardest hit for first!"  I wonder if anyone ever said that.  Maybe Yogi Berra.

It is good advice because if you hit them harder and faster than they expect they'll be flinching a little the rest of the game.  I know this to be true.  They may come at you harder but then they are easier to go around.

The other thing was I keep thinking of how my brother is like the North Star in our family; steady, and he has always been able to hold pretty much to a path while being flexible enough to change course when necessary.  It isn't something that just happens by luck.

He consciously sticks to a chosen path and doesn't apologize to those who would have him do things differently.  That isn't always easy, but he's doing it right.  We aren't close and may never be, but there is a very powerful bond between us.  It could be that the strength of the deep bond makes it scary to be too close.  We both probably feel like we let the other down.  He may not.  I do.  With good enough experience to back both cases.

Life is like a bowl of cherries---chocolate is usually not in that bowl.   Maybe they said that no one said life IS a bowl of cherries.  Or did they say Life is a bowl of cherries?  They say some odd things.  But, say it enough and people take it for true.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Let Me Sleep On it

What prompted it, I do not know.   Mysteriously inspired, I wrote young k a lengthy letter; documenary treatise, autobiography, nonsense.  I'm afraid if I send it I may wish I hadn't.  I have not proofread it.  I'm afraid that if I do, I'll trash it, then wish I hadn't.

I'll save it to a folder and check it out another time.

Why is it that people's wives, and women that don't really seem like a good mix go out of their way to flatter you?  If what they say is true then life ought to be different.   It should roll off but it tends to depress me.  In many contexts it would be considered complimentary.  But, I have found that if you look beyond the surface, and you really search, you'll find the depressing side of a thing.  Usually I don't look at much. This one was just there.  Depression said, I'm gonna hit a home run!  But I know what is what, so it doesn't matter.

Ha.  I have the last laugh.  Years of experience have numbed me to the point of only being mildly depressed by depression, so Depression has to settle for almost nothing.  Depression will soon get depressed and go away.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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