Friday, August 28, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Anyway, she finally gave up and decided as all mothers do that he will just cry himself out so she went about what she needed to do and the entire office stared at this adorable little kid screaming and wandering about. Then, as calmly as could be, he stopped crying, looked at me, said "hi" really calmly, turned around and started crying again. Wandered about crying and screaming, found himself at me again, stopped, looked up at me, smiled, grabbed my leg, and that was the end of the tears. He spent the next two hours on my lap hitting the space bar and playing with the "magic" of magnets as I tried to work, but instead watched him. It was only the second time in his life he as ever seen me too.
The girls in the office took this as undeniable proof that I should be a dad, and I agreed so long as, after 18 years, when the kids leaves, so does the wife.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
On a blog far away
Were two people too busy
To know the time of day
One said the left
The other said the right
Neither had any clue
Why they were compelled to fight
But fight they did nightly
And through most of the day
Each claiming victory
While the other was away
And they fought for so long
They each lost sight
Of why they believed
The things they thought was right
Instead the main goal
Of the daily war
Was to prove the other side wrong
And sadly, nothing more
Boy did I get fooled
I sat out the next two elections
And stupidity ruled
I returned not to vote for someone
But against a man
And I lost that election because
The guy I voted for had no plan
Then I voted for change
That there would be no change
I did not contemplate
Now I must decide
What action to take
Do I vote in 2012
Or just relax for the rape?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The "Charlie Story" I finally found an end to. See, he is following the advice of the Guardian Angel on what to do about his wife and his girlfriend, and the Angel tells him to kill the girlfriend to ease her suffering as she would hate living without him. As he goes off to do it, it is revealed that the Guardian Angel was never Charlie's, but rather was his wife's and was doing this to protect her from Charlie.
When KB and OZ run out the back door and leave Bob to kill the cops, they will run to the Wingnut's house, which will tie them into another already written tale. KB was Charlies's room mate in college and the Wingnut was their friend already, so it would work. All I need now is to figure out a final conflict for OZ, KB, and Bob. I will probably use my PIzza Wars idea for that. I think it will work. I just have to find all this stuff I have scattered about several hard drives.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
People like to compare Obama to Kennedy, I don't see it, but fine, I will use that. Kennedy challenged Americans to live up to what it means to be American where Obama is trying to make us feel good about being Americans again. That is the wrong approach. LEAD and we will follow; ask us what we want and we will fall apart at the seams.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
SO I asked for a single Black and Mild and the lady asked me for ID; I began cracking up. It appeared she was not in on the joke by the look she gave me. It then appeared there was no joke not be in on; she really wanted to see my ID. I suddenly had a flashback to Boulder...
I had no car when I lived in Boulder, so it was not uncommon for me to walk about without my ID. I had been asked for it a few times in Boulder, sometimes with it, and other times without, and I found that it was easier to be without ID than it was to show a Florida ID in Colorado. I certainly didn't look 18 with my long hair, goat-tee, red blood shot eyes...Anywho
One day, it was a Sunday I believe, I found myself without cigarettes and intoxicants for the day- a bad way to find one's self in Boulder, and I walked to the corner store to acquire my daily supply of both, sans ID. It being a real store, my intoxicant of choice would be a local micro-brew and my cigarettes would be the cheapest being sold, for I was just a simple poor hippie wannabe- a home away from being homeless really.
As I approached the checkout line, I realized my lack of ID and thought it may be a problem, this being a "real" store, you know, nationwide chain instead of a Ma and Pa local. I was too lazy or stoned or both or neither to bother walking all the block back to my room and then back the entire block to the store just for ID I probably won't need, so I waited in line for my turn.
"Next" was my que...I was on.
"Hi,"I said as nonchalantly as possible while placing my beer directly between the two of us, "this and a pack of cigarettes please."
"Can I see some ID please?" There wasn't even a moment's hesitation! No pause, no thought, just rote recitation.
"I, um, left it at home."
"OK then," the clerk said firmly, "that will be seven dollars, forty-eight cents."
"Um," I was confused as to what she was ringing up, "the cigarettes are seven dollars?" I took a wild guess as cigarettes had the lower age requirement for purchase.
"No," she responded, "but the beer is. You have no ID."
"What?" I was really confused now, bordering on bewilderment with the next stop total discombobulation. "Let me get this straight, you can tell I am over 21 so the beer is OK, but I may not be over 18 so I get no cigarettes?"
"No," she said calmly, rehearsed, almost as if she had been through this exact scene 100 times before, "I can tell you are over 25, the age you must look to buy beer without an ID, but I can't tell if you are over 30, the age you must be to buy cigarettes without it."
How could I argue with that? She could easily have sold me the cigarettes without problem, but I guess she was doing her part to protest what, to her, was a stupid requirement. It worked I suppose. Here I am, 15 years later, writing about it, so it made an impact on me.
I was back at the chain store in the present with a clerk waiting for my ID. I took it out and gave her the type of smile you give a child when they ask a cute, yet stupid question, and said "here, I'm almost 40."
She suddenly got the joke.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Dancing on the tip of my tongue
Basking in the richness
Creamy light drips from the sun
I wander wearily down the path
Adrift in open seize
Gripping all the twilight roses
Dancing in the breeze
And from the open window
Babbling in Babylon I go
Without a single meaning to
My rhetoric and my prose
Sunday, August 09, 2009
"Once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right"
When I was twenty-four years old, my life had stalled. I had just lost my girlfriend, had dropped out of college, and really had no future in Tampa. I had two options at that time: leave Florida with my best friend who was moving to California; or accept my fate as a delivery driver. I was leaning towards the driver option, but he would not hear it. I decided to shut him up with a simple bet that the odds were in my favor of winning.
The bet was if the Grateful Dead played Promised Land at the Tampa show we were going to I would move out west. If they did not, I would stay in Tampa.
Well, that May 7th came and we went to Tampa stadium for the show. With the Black Crows opening, we were in no real hurry to get in. Besides, we were all spread out. There were about forty of us and none of us had seats in the same section. We tried to sneak in, but security was being really strict and limiting which gates you could even enter.
We heard the crowd do that "good-bye" cheer from within the stadium, so we knew it was time for us to get in. We all chose our meeting place for after the show and left for our separate gates. Before he left, he reminded me that Promised Land was the secret song.
I was completely sober and sitting by myself at the show. I had begun going to concerts sober a few years earlier. I am saying this to clarify things to come. I was completely in my senses during the entire show.
The first set was amazing and perfect. The Grateful Dead even treated me to a song I had never heard them do before (Visions of Johanna). Then came the moment I had been waiting for. I was honestly so nervous, it was hard to relax during the first set, as great as it was.
The Dead had not played Promised Land for a few shows and they were due. If they played it, my friend would hold me to my word. With Jerry having just sung, it was time for a Bob Weir song and that was one of his favorite closers. Then I heard the notes..
"Left my home in Norfolk, Va. California on my mind." Son of a bitch! I had to move.
"Inspiration, move me brightly; Light the song with sense of color; Hold away despair"I have always followed signs in my life, so I had no choice unless I could think of a good excuse. With the second set about to start, I had about three hours to come up with one.
It was not that I did not want to move, it was that I was scared of change. I had never really left Florida before for any long period of time, let along move from it.
It was at that moment, while standing in the aisles dancing that my concept of reality changed forever. I was tapped on my shoulder so naturally I turned. Standing right there was a short kid. He was about nineteen or so, short blonde hair and glasses, wearing a tanktop with a picture of a sailboat on it. He had this calming aura about him, in spite of his young age.
"It's time to go, Brad." He said, "Follow me". The then turned and walked up the aisle towards my seat. I turned to see the show and, when I turned back, he was gone.
I know what everyone reading this is thinking right now and the answer, once again, is no. I did not do drugs, I did not drink before concerts any longer, and I was not sitting with any friends. My plan was to leave Florida for California via following the Grateful Dead, only was not sure if it was right for me to go. The cryptic message from this, Guardian Angel for lack of a better term, pointed me in the right direction.
On a side note, my friend Dave saw the same kid in the parking lot after the show. He walked up to Dave, put his hand on Dave's shoulder, and said "I'm sorry Dave, I did all I could." Then he walked away. I lost touch with Dave so I never found out if that message ending up with meaning or not. We compared stories though, and it was the same kid.
But I must not get off on a tangent. So I decided to move to California. The Grateful Dead would lead me there. I sold my car, did not renew my lease, quit my job, put everything I owned in storage, and hit the road California-bound.
Just like the song "Promised Land", we were off. The Dead took us from Vegas to Seattle and back down to San Francisco with many stops along the way. We took a side trip out to Colorado to see Phish at Red Rocks. Not so much to see Phish as to see Red Rocks. It was there that I saw and fell in love with Boulder.
I ended up not moving to California, but rather being dropped off in Boulder. A move very unlike me, but I just felt at home there. I began the task of settling in and getting a job. Both were rather easy. I got a room at the hostel and a job at a restaurant down the street. Life was great. I was looking forward to seeing the Dead again in October and seeing my tour family again.
I woke up on August 9th, 1995 to my alarm radio playing China Cat Sunflower from Europe 72. That was not right. I remember telling myself, even before I opened my eyes that something was weird with that day. That song should not be on the radio. It never was before. Maybe it was going to be a great day.
I had no time to think about it however. I always woke up fifteen minutes before work, so I had to rush. I brushed, dressed, and ran out the door in a great mood. I heard the Dead on the radio. That had to be a sign of a good day, right? Wrong.
I found out the source of the weirdness when I got to the restaurant I worked at. My manager asked me if I was ok. I said "Sure." "Did you need the day off?" "No, why?" "Jerry died."
"Hearts of Summer held in trust /still tender, young and green /left on shelves collecting /dust not knowing what they mean"That summer I learned a lot about myself. I experienced so much, both great and horrible, and grew from it all. I left Tampa a loser with no future and I find myself today, eleven years later very happy with my life and my choices. I have no way of knowing if anything done differently would not have taken me to the same place, but I would not have done it any other way.
Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead was the soundtrack to my life. I have friends all over the country I met because they were already family. The Dead were more than a band, they were a travelling community. The loss of Jerry was a major blow to the so many of us, like losing your grand-uncle, but it also must be remembered that he did it to himself. He was not so much taken from us as it was his addictions that killed him. He must be remembered so that future losses can maybe be prevented.
"We will get by / We will survive"
-Touch of Grey
The Dead and related bands continue to tour today. Their influence still grows today as a new crop of "Jam Bands" continue their legacy. They have even had an influence on such artists as Metallica who, now allow thier shows to be recorded by fans. The Dead were able to reach out beyond their own genre and show the world what music can do.
I am neither an expert on Jerry Garcia, nor on Rock History. I am just a fan. Nothing more, nothing less who wanted to say:
"Thank you for the shows, the memories, and for showing me the country. You changed my life Jerry."
Friday, August 07, 2009
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
The basic truth is, the shoe has met the other foot, the pot is calling the kettle, but the kettle ain't picking up, and both sides have turned into everything they hated from 2001-2009. It would be funny if it wasn't MY country being killed in the process.
I cannot tell you how many times a day I read something from the left that I would have sworn came from the right just last year. Since Obama's election, the Democrats discovered blind loyalty to the Office of the President and the Republicans have learned the value of protest and why it is wrong to kick the minority. Too bad the Democrats so quickly forgot what it was like to be kicked.
If my prediction comes true, and Obama turns out to be another Carter, it will once again be the fault of a Democratic Congress more concerned with getting even than being right, because, like Carter, I believe Obama is smart and willing to do what needs to be done.