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.

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.

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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.

Playing

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.

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.

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.

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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.

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.