tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90090661139601186622024-02-28T18:52:28.136-06:00Details of Assorted LifeObservations, facts, fiction, myths, and great truths.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-32221698220671672052022-04-20T18:01:00.000-05:002022-04-20T18:01:27.924-05:00Celebrity's Memoirs <p><br /></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"> <span style="font-size: medium;">I've been listening to various actors, rock stars, etc. tell their stories in audio book form for a couple of years now. I find it interesting to learn about the arc of some of these folk's lives.</span></h4><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> BTW, I only spend my time with people I find interesting, this eliminates about 9/10 of the 'stars' in People or Us magazines. Full disclosure; I actually get both of these rags despite the fact I never ordered them. OK, OK, I do crack them open for a perverse look at how Celebs are <i>Just Like Us!</i> only thinner, way more beautiful, and just... glamorous!!</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgIWRuY4s1wvi00l65QB6M-H16fpBUX9Onzw9lNj3WbXjMhb983QPWSIszqYtpo0giZ5TGn5O6T06ai8zbBbcpkjiQqQovRyQGoGwUC2c6nmKMWzedb2koRZC0Pl7O2m5aBW8xBdDjT6RDfPiaCpcCaPWVNH4-60WPc8KC8d0c22qF1HnuvI6gm0YWw/s300/Bruce%20Stevie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgIWRuY4s1wvi00l65QB6M-H16fpBUX9Onzw9lNj3WbXjMhb983QPWSIszqYtpo0giZ5TGn5O6T06ai8zbBbcpkjiQqQovRyQGoGwUC2c6nmKMWzedb2koRZC0Pl7O2m5aBW8xBdDjT6RDfPiaCpcCaPWVNH4-60WPc8KC8d0c22qF1HnuvI6gm0YWw/s1600/Bruce%20Stevie.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Who have I listened to and enjoyed hearing about? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Bruce Springsteen</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Steven Van Zandt</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Matthew McConaughey</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Nick Offerman</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Among many others</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I look forward to hearing about how they were influenced by Dad, Mom, Coach, whoever and took a leap into the Big Time after eating cold beans out of a can for two years. (So to speak). The mechanism of <i>rags to riches / fame and fortune</i>. fascinates us all right?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Well, gentle reader, I have decided to do my own story here in these blog pages. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Stay tuned for the did and the didn't of my career. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes, all you people that ask: </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Cubil, What happened?" </span></h3><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> with a sad tone in your voice will finally find out </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">That yes: </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I did write write, record, and release a number of my own songs - and people <i>liked them!</i></span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I did travel and play some tony (and tiny) gigs</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I did appear on television many times, even national TV</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Performed in front of +50,000 fans multiple times... as well as (basically) empty rooms</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But I'm getting ahead of myself. <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0I2yKwn0xUVLum9zacbQZoMfXhSdQqFRJ0vCQXPK94WPGAC3wIJIuVkUDLb7u33UBgSjvRjYFcci1318nONfGiprk4d1BFZUia3MAeoBN14CzbOa6Z8L8Fj6OQi9KqmcwImuorh6G2JcqqNCda-DfzVwOug_nENl9zrJ5WpckdvlRWGfiNnxO55cZGg/s500/Bil%20emos%20sing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0I2yKwn0xUVLum9zacbQZoMfXhSdQqFRJ0vCQXPK94WPGAC3wIJIuVkUDLb7u33UBgSjvRjYFcci1318nONfGiprk4d1BFZUia3MAeoBN14CzbOa6Z8L8Fj6OQi9KqmcwImuorh6G2JcqqNCda-DfzVwOug_nENl9zrJ5WpckdvlRWGfiNnxO55cZGg/w240-h240/Bil%20emos%20sing.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm looking forward to figuring out what happened myself, this could be fun!</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-32993418764304890582022-04-20T17:16:00.000-05:002022-04-20T17:16:01.847-05:00Unexplored Worlds<p> </p><p><br /></p><p>I had a request for an early morning tuning at a school. I wasn't happy about it, 'don't consider myself an early morning person. I got to the school, knocked out the piano tuning, and split before 9am. Low on groceries, so a stop by the Kroger was in order. Wow! Nearly empty parking lot! It dawned (NPI) that there is a whole early morning world out there I have been sleeping through. It brings to mind the late night world I once inhabited years ago in my 20's. </p><p>Some stores stay open late, so I would do some shopping at 1am- 2am. Wearing my tuxedo (lounge band attire) having the store pretty much to myself and whatever other <a href="https://youtu.be/1eKd2U3cbwk?t=67">weirdos</a> happen to be there.</p><p>The great thing about early up and at'em is you feel soo productive! Puttering can take 7/8 of our lives if we let it. When you're done, you realize you haven't really done anything but waste time.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-66817999180433058442021-05-19T21:13:00.001-05:002021-05-19T21:13:14.483-05:00Marriage <p> "What do you Love Most about Your Spouse?"</p><p>That was the question on the website. I smiled thinking of her. I've smiled when thinking about her since the day we met. 😊</p><p>It is due to the way we connect. (Amazingly well). </p><p>The sound of her voice.</p><p>Her laughter. - I really do love that...</p><p>Her compassion for people and animals.</p><p>Her fashion sense - a good dresser, and pretty woman to boot!</p><p>What I love most honey is all the things you are.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH0HLHxnM029OED4RsugrI_IqcXlH-OdzmPEDhRlQrmNsvSxWYcMmpajY2mdOQV-an0zbZxK2a0vA-uJKVMtX7Q64Yhc911yz2I0jbTvcCuU2wbmOilEIyT0_pZ5ukza1yQXR114nd0uV/s4032/PXL_20210314_225046797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVH0HLHxnM029OED4RsugrI_IqcXlH-OdzmPEDhRlQrmNsvSxWYcMmpajY2mdOQV-an0zbZxK2a0vA-uJKVMtX7Q64Yhc911yz2I0jbTvcCuU2wbmOilEIyT0_pZ5ukza1yQXR114nd0uV/w131-h175/PXL_20210314_225046797.jpg" width="131" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-24367919784002128382021-05-03T18:07:00.001-05:002021-05-03T18:29:12.721-05:00Love and Death<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0YMTLDPfIPzMx_QMOs3zNC17Z6jGiHgZv1HMY1K0vzuJyEF26B4SlH7rJ-eW8u2awG45xL2-rlM_lW28XhsfmgM3BlbH9oFBw_UbpJLTXgjSPx4D2XhggP60MEazcSM51AKeJ5puvlr9/s4032/IMG_20200918_085135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0YMTLDPfIPzMx_QMOs3zNC17Z6jGiHgZv1HMY1K0vzuJyEF26B4SlH7rJ-eW8u2awG45xL2-rlM_lW28XhsfmgM3BlbH9oFBw_UbpJLTXgjSPx4D2XhggP60MEazcSM51AKeJ5puvlr9/s320/IMG_20200918_085135.jpg" /></a></div><br /> Ah, Love and Death, two of our most compelling subjects. They seem to come together for real when death shows up. <p></p><p>Death of someone we have known is sad and unfortunate. We feel for that family experiencing grief. It gets <i>real</i> when it is someone close to us, like a member of the family. Often that member is of another species (our pet). Although as I get older, less so. </p><p>When I think about all the animals we've had in our home (as an adult) it adds up quick. My first was a bull terrier at the young age of 19. Since then, something like 10 other dogs have been under my roof, often two at a time. A pet is a lifelong relationship. Theirs, not yours. When the end of their life comes, it's on YOU. </p><p>You have probably figured out where this is going... yep, a four footed member of our household has stepped on a rainbow. </p><p>He had been sick with a tumor for over a year, and the tumor (in his neck) crushed his esophagus making it impossible to eat or drink. His mind and his heart were strong all the way to the end. </p><p>I too have an esophagus issue, but not the scope of dog (Jack White). I can mostly eat (carefully) and rarely choke. So I identified with his issues the whole past year. I also identified with his tendency to obey a command - if he agreed with it. The past year was spent wondering when it had gone on long enough to be a mercy ending his life for him. </p><p>Months ago it seemed his quality of life had diminished to the point that the 'last ride' was upon us. But like the <a href="https://youtu.be/uBxMPqxJGqI">Monty Python scene</a> when I was about to put him in the car he perked up, tail wagging, all enthusiastic. THAT wasn't going to work. </p><p>Even on the morning we did go, he was calm, low energy, jumped down from my arms to smell the smells. I thought "here we go again". But we got through it with no more bursts of energy. Just as the doctor was coming at him with his shot, Jack began choking (as he has been doing every 5 minutes for months). Odd how that was reassuring to me that we were at the right place at the right time.</p><p>All life-long relationships end in death (or they wouldn't be life-long). It's sad, but it's a poetic sadness. Like the great truth that it is. </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-1608634235807937182021-04-30T14:03:00.000-05:002021-04-30T14:03:41.725-05:00Year of the RV<p> Yeah, so we spent Covid year doing some tent camping, that was nice, but not as comfy as we would like while enjoying the great outdoors. Spousal Unit and I have talked about getting a travel trailer but not really done much but window shop (or Craigslist shop). </p><p>Well, between Christmas and New Year, we saw a small trailer that looked very interesting on C.L. I contacted the seller and it was about 6 minutes from the house. We <i>had</i> to go, *'just to look'. Yep, seemed pretty good, yep, we were the proud owners of a 2008 small travel trailer (now named <i>Moon Dancer</i>). </p><p>It seems everyone we know has at least a fantasy of hitting the road with an RV. Let me say this: do your homework. It can be really complicated. After purchasing ours, I spent roughly 2 hours a day on Youtube watching videos that explained all the ways I could screw up the RV experience. </p><p>Also, don't imagine you are going to save money with your own 'house on wheels'. Unless you normally stay at the Four Seasons, you will spend at least as much as you would at hotels, Air BnB, etc. </p><p>Am I trying to warn you off? No! I don't regret our impulsive purchase. We are looking forward to a summer of wonderful escapes from the big city. The trips we've been on so far have been a blast!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW2bRTCXWEi09fbnvO3x7WBjXBUacfQoIRmHF8uStAMrw6vAltdC41ZH4sfW5wfI9MZkTg5bJaDZexTGVIIH9LwSDn94tYGiM-95BNUuhLGd2w5rw_TQvJ5v4nrH06NnRz1tOGYEAFdg2/s4032/PXL_20210314_225046797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmW2bRTCXWEi09fbnvO3x7WBjXBUacfQoIRmHF8uStAMrw6vAltdC41ZH4sfW5wfI9MZkTg5bJaDZexTGVIIH9LwSDn94tYGiM-95BNUuhLGd2w5rw_TQvJ5v4nrH06NnRz1tOGYEAFdg2/s320/PXL_20210314_225046797.jpg" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">*If you have ever gone 'just to look' at anything, you know I mean 'we are probably buying. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-87634434569142607702020-12-13T13:18:00.000-06:002020-12-13T13:18:16.959-06:00Cycles of the Seven Year Variety<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">There is</span> <span style="font-weight: normal;">a theory that we tend to change on many levels in 7 year cycles. Physically, emotionally, etc. I have always accepted that as probably true, but not done much with it otherwise. Can you describe them in 100 words or less? Can I? </span></h3><br />
<b>First Cycle 1953 - 1960 </b>ages 0-7<br />
<br />
Ah, born in Chicago in 1953. My earliest memory was living across the street from a very large park called Garfield Park The park would fill up with snow in the winter months and create a wonderland to my 4 year old eyes...<br />
<br />
<i>* Whose woods these are, I think I know - his house is in the village so</i><br />
<i>He will not see me stopping here, to watch his woods fill up with snow.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I remember coming into consciousness at this location. I had my own room, and was busy coloring on the wall when I heard people at the front door. Hmm, danger! my brain said (no idea why) and I hid under the bed. They went to tell my mother I was not in my room. I then appeared from under my bed. Mother not happy about my hiding or coloring on the wall. My Grandparents (the visitors) engaged me and talked with me, not AT me like my mother. I liked them.<br />
<br />
<b>Second Cycle 1960 - 1967 </b>ages 7-14<br />
<b><br /></b>
A little school boy now... became a cub scout, didn't like school much, and was very bullied by my mom. When I say bullied, I mean child abuse, emotional abuse, the whole nine yards. Not a happy time. I did all I could to stay out of the house; hit the door early and not come back till almost dark. Started walking to a church about 3/4 of a mile away on Sunday morning. Didn't ask anyone, just did it. Several times Minister visited the house to see what the heck was going on there. (ha).</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Discovering music was a game changer... I got my father to show me what he knew on guitar, (a five chord progression) and worked it from there. Did my first public performance in 5th grade backing a girl singing <i>Downtown</i> by Petula Clark.</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Got a growth spurt around age 12, that put an end to my motherly beatings.<br />
<br />
<b>Third Cycle 1967- 1974 </b>ages 14-21<br />
<b><br /></b> Entered all-boy vocational High School at 13, terrible first year. It was like a prison run by the inmates. Some of the older "boys" were in the 20's. They somehow kept enrolled so's not to get drafted. I cut school all sophomore year, earned 1 credit (I think it was gym). <br />
Started my third year a year behind, so with the help of some teacher/allies, I attended class day and night and summers until it was time to graduate in the summer of 1970. Didn't make it out with my class, a math teacher I had political disagreements with failed me (after assuring me he would send me on), so I had to take Algebra I for the <u>third</u> time in summer session. An official graduate though!<br />
Left home at 17. Got my own place, supported myself. Met a girl. Moved to Houston. Bye bye Chicago.<br />In Houston actually got married the summer I turned 20! (1973) Wow! That sounds nuts huh?<br />
Leaving 1974 for...<br />
<br />
<b>Fourth Cycle 1974 - 1980 </b>ages 21-27<br />
<b><br /></b>
Things picking up. Got in a band I could pay the rent with, quit my day job. After a year of this, my bride said, "I'm gonna go visit my friends in Chicago" (and filed for divorce). The very harshest of emotional times for me to that date.<br />
If I were to make an appearance to my 22 year old self I would explain: "Hey, you're just starting a new cycle, relax, everything is in divine order". Better days (and nights) ahead.<br />Eventually fell in love, wrote a bunch of songs, played a great deal many shows right up until I could see the end in site about 1980. Married (again in 1979) with child, mortgage, needing to figure out a new career.<br />
Wow! Piano Tuning!?<br />
<br />
<b>Fifth Cycle 1981 - 1987 </b>ages 28- 34<br />
<b><br /></b>
Goodness time flies when you are in the thick of it! Worked two full time jobs nearly two years. Became competent as a tuner, became a father for the second time, built a business I could support a family with, while continuing to play music on the weekends. Funny some of these cycles seem to have flown by. Fancy plan: come up with a way to franchise piano tuning. - Didn't work. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">So life was family, church, band, pianos, repeat. No real complaints. Actually quite fulfilling. <br />
<br />
<b>Sixth Cycle 1988 - 1994 </b>ages 35 -41<br />
<br />
Looking back, it all seems like such a blur. When you try to pick out a few words to describe 2555 days, you realize it can't be done. Children growing, still busy as a musician / band leader, trying to keep my marriage going, it was a lot of juggling. A busy life is like a ride on the Autobahn on BMW motorcycle - keep focused on what's coming in front of you. <br />
<br />
<b>Seventh Cycle 1993 - 2000 </b>ages 42 - 48<br />
<br />If you are hitting 40, relax. I found it to be the best decade of my life. Still young enough to do foolish things, but smart enough to not get caught. (ha). Some innate sense says "it's your last decade to be young, still look good, feel good, and you have a few bucks. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Midlife crises hits. Strong urge to hit 'reset', but after a turbulent time, don't. Marriage improves, Strangest time of my adult life. Renting pianos for concerts kick into high gear, and some light traveling take me and my pianos around Texas and Louisiana. <br />
<br />
<b>Eighth Cycle 2001 - 2007 </b>ages 49- - 55<br />
<br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Still playing music for weddings, corporate events, etc. Got a retail store going, full blown music business. Wound up being in charge of Mother as dementia took over and made living on her own impossible. Not an easy time, but did the best I could with what I had to work with; me, her, sisters, nursing homes, etc. J.C. made it to January 2008 before crossing over. </div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Having employees let me go off playing jobs out of town, spouse holding down the fort. Kids grown up, house paid for things going pretty well until wait, what's that? 2008 coming up?<br />
<br />
<b>Ninth Cycle 2008 - 2014 </b>ages 56 - 62<br />
<br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Ah the Great Recession is here! I am fortunate enough to recognize that business is slowing when it "should" be growing. Liquidated the store quickly and tried to find my next move. Very nearly became a truck driver. Instead piano backline took off. Marriage faltering at the 35 year mark. Working a vocal duo at this point. <br /><br />
<b>Tenth Cycle 2015 - 2022 </b>ages 63 - 70</div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /></div><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Newly single. Is this what they call the <i>Second Act? </i>Yes must be so. The question now is "What do I Really Want?" Takes a while to let go of <i>We </i> and pick up <i>Me.</i> 'Don't mean that in a selfish way, but the number of years left is not many, so let's figure out how to make them count in some way. I will say it is nice to be here in the 10th cycle. Thanks for tuning in. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-38413789312642738682017-08-31T20:31:00.001-05:002021-05-03T08:31:36.026-05:00Goodbye, Farewell, Godspeed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When you have had a several decade long relationship with anything (or anybody) it is right and proper to review the time, energy, and ultimately reason the relationship has moved on. This is about my ties to the church called Unitarian Universalist.<br />
<br />
I came to this church around 1980. When an important job position demanded I attend church regularly. There was no demand <i>what</i> church, so I picked one I knew (a tiny bit) about: Unitarian (Henceforth known as UU). The first Sunday I visited, There was a pew dance - that was fun, and a good omen as far as I was concerned. The more I learned about the denomination, the more drawn to it I became. "Liked the people, history, moral messages, etc. I became a better person for being a member.<br />
As time wore on, I received training in leadership that helped me help the church. It also made me a better person. Is the tension building? Ready for the BUT... (?)<br />
<br />
I, along with my family had been members of 3 congregations. First UU, Emerson, and NW Community over the course of 35 years. I left First UU because I felt the the politically correct atmosphere was driving a lack of discussion by people that may not be "just like us". Freedom of speech is reduced when a person gets clobbered for speaking their mind and their mind is not in lock-step with the 'community'.<br />
<br />
I then moved my family to Emerson UU. It was more upscale, had more diversity in the membership, and had a religious education program of great renown. Kids got schooled on religious matters and more importantly sex. It was a pretty good family church, I made friends and grew as a person. I persuaded the board to send me to Leadership School.<br />
<br />
I left that congregation for an opportunity of starting a new church in NW Houston. - A chance to use my leadership training! I stayed with this congregation about 20 years. Our big plans to grow a fabulous church in NW Houston never came to pass. I made friends there, worked on important matters; worship, music, how to pay the rent, etc.The church never made it past 75 members. In fact it stayed about 55-60 members. I left there to return to my first church, First (UU) Church to avoid seeing my ex every Sunday.<br />
'Spent a year singing in the choir at the downtown church, and then took a break. Another church I had visited on and off for years, Unity Houston became my new home. Moving services, beautiful campus, ministers with a strong message. Much happier now than I have been on many a Sunday.<br />
When I resigned from First Church, a few people prodded me to name who I was angry with, or share the source of my disappointment. I am not mad at anyone... I am disappointed with myself for staying so long after I should have left. The only image I can describe regarding the UU church is this:<br />
<br />
We have a meal of potatoes to feed on.<br />
<br />
Unity, where I am now, is where their is a good size fire under that pot. The water is boiling, and people are eating potatoes.<br />
When I look back on my former faith, I see that pot, I see the potatoes, and I see a small dinner candle NOT boiling water, not cooking potatoes, not feeding people.<br />
<br />
Inspiration is what creates heat/fire moves people of the spirit to do great things (or at least more than they thought they could do). The humanist perspective squelching the theistic contribution, makes for blandness that turns the church into a cross between and civic club and a plain ole social club.What do I mean by that? You have a set of touchy people that get upset when they hear the word God, or a reference to Jesus, etc.<br />
Again, I do not harbor ill towards my former church or friends that attend. For me, it was time to move on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFiFKzrs5EVCNJFTnzkY3WvTtA2Gqop4Ra5-qtod8zbnvyIaT2WfnB17N4TTVgKb3C9kAdGRDKBlr8pjD6q1yhdPbJSLJEMlHafv_oJI8fOWwJGu6RAzEsN2r3BxLy2hmiitLcESjoPWJ/s1600/spirit+path.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFiFKzrs5EVCNJFTnzkY3WvTtA2Gqop4Ra5-qtod8zbnvyIaT2WfnB17N4TTVgKb3C9kAdGRDKBlr8pjD6q1yhdPbJSLJEMlHafv_oJI8fOWwJGu6RAzEsN2r3BxLy2hmiitLcESjoPWJ/s1600/spirit+path.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-20849389258898397712017-06-05T16:16:00.003-05:002017-06-05T16:16:47.663-05:00My Life In Parts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been reading Bryan Cranston's book <i>A Life In Parts</i>.<br />
Clever title for a memoir by an actor.<br />
Little essays where he identifies his 'role' as son, farmhand, Walter White, etc. and tells a tale about being in that role.<br />
I have attempted the same here in this blog in a more indirect way. 'Gonna try it for a while to see how it feels. Instead of going 50-60 years back, I like to start where we (I) are/am/is now. You try it too...<br />
If you gave a name to your "Role" at the present time what would it be? Be honest... I'll just wait a few minutes to let you collect your thoughts (but don't over-think it) ...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................<br />
<br />
Okay, I'm back (each of those dots was a minute or second if you prefer).<br />
<br />
I'll share first.<br />
I will identify as "Boyfriend" at the present.<br />
Sounds a bit strange even to me. (After all, I am 64 years old!!)<br />
I have been in this role about 20 months and find it quite agreeable. K and I have our <i>thing </i>that takes place every weekend cue <a href="https://youtu.be/ZzqLtnBc1dg" target="_blank">John Mayer</a> and it is pretty great. We are in total agreement on that.<br />
I still have the smaller and just as important roles going like father, piano technician, church-goer, companion to a pair of dogs, grass farmer, and so on... but I promised a tale related to <u>the</u> role...<br />
<br />
This one goes back to our early days dating. When we first met, we were both in the final stages of divorce from long marriages, pretty new to living single, feeling out of touch with the dating scene, but interested in companionship of the opposite sex.<br />
First date had us at a minor league baseball game, the first either of us had attended. We were with a group from a social club I belonged to, there were about 30 of us sitting together. I took some ribbing from someone because I was sitting in the middle of 4 lovely ladies (besides my date). The comment was something like "There's Cubil, surrounded by his harem". Sparking a nervous ha-ha from me, a strange look from my date.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the middle of the game. We were having a bite of ballpark food, in this case a stuffed potato and had full mouths of the delicious BBQ, when the kiss-cam decided to focus on us. My friends started with the chant: kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss! K was oblivious to what was going on, but very focused on her potato. I got her to look up and see we were on the big screen and explained it won't stop until we kiss. She smiled and we took our first kiss with mouths full of barbecue in front of a crowd of hundreds that night, and broke the ice.<br />
I do remember the Skeeters lost to a team from a town I had never heard of. sad. But it was the start of a beautiful relationship that prompts me to identify as <b>Boyfriend. </b><br />
<b>Oh, feel free to share your current (or favorite from the past) role in the comments section.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRpaDBDSQ6FKOfXylLjwnf32ohYr7s12po49HA8UVSyo0uHUQapNZ2nmW_cd3uDNJb3dssry_KTqO6Db8JSe-1pW0Da-8PFXti_8lqiOf6sDPwso-4jvU55THKVEqyrOtZ7cnSF5sajG7/s1600/Butcher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="182" data-original-width="277" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRpaDBDSQ6FKOfXylLjwnf32ohYr7s12po49HA8UVSyo0uHUQapNZ2nmW_cd3uDNJb3dssry_KTqO6Db8JSe-1pW0Da-8PFXti_8lqiOf6sDPwso-4jvU55THKVEqyrOtZ7cnSF5sajG7/s200/Butcher.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8331MJLwq8ISvkSJk4hHdd8kGoc9AfxjkQdU-s4p5Gx8UySzQrdUcYnhVK6229r-bJMtW9Zr6Se3Sa5upqskrYloAE0RQ8_c06ViyO7vZSdYAw1QYICm4gtoOfaGC7RDlq838E_pNI35a/s1600/baker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="173" data-original-width="292" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8331MJLwq8ISvkSJk4hHdd8kGoc9AfxjkQdU-s4p5Gx8UySzQrdUcYnhVK6229r-bJMtW9Zr6Se3Sa5upqskrYloAE0RQ8_c06ViyO7vZSdYAw1QYICm4gtoOfaGC7RDlq838E_pNI35a/s200/baker.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWXaQIJrb5R04KeXlunxE0zFPPctxrtzT3tEkxBuGJoG3jrQKT1D-hrMxWPnTg1flzyDc15XYow0G983sJ47bBxYOeG2uAkm5vrr6aPKJ_4lvTlCq1ao2Z1PtHH15Ez_NM4EQrfUmsayi/s1600/Candle+Maker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="269" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWXaQIJrb5R04KeXlunxE0zFPPctxrtzT3tEkxBuGJoG3jrQKT1D-hrMxWPnTg1flzyDc15XYow0G983sJ47bBxYOeG2uAkm5vrr6aPKJ_4lvTlCq1ao2Z1PtHH15Ez_NM4EQrfUmsayi/s200/Candle+Maker.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-65074190271528073912016-06-15T11:27:00.000-05:002016-06-15T11:27:59.314-05:00Religious Convictions and Modern Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lot's of upset in society due to daily mass shootings. The latest being 100 people in a club in Orlando Florida. Turns out the guy (1 man) was a Muslim, hated many groups, but especially gays. Pretty horrible, anyway you slice it.<br />
<br />
The attitude displayed by the fringe "religious" folk underscores a big source of the problem. Texas' own Lt. Governor (<a href="http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/texas-lieutenant-gov-deletes-tweet-with-bible-verse-after-shooting/" target="_blank">he who does not deserve to be named</a>) was quick to tweet a bible verse, suggesting the shooting victims had it coming.<br />
<br />
The do-nothing congress continues in their hot streak of Doing Nothing (well, they always have <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2016/06/13/3-things-congress-could-do-in-response-to-the-massacre-in-orlando/" target="_blank">rhetoric to spare</a>) .<br />
<br />
But, back to religious groups who are fighting (politically) to preserve their right to smite people not of their own persuasion. Every religion that refers to "The God of Abraham" has a long list of<a href="http://www.alternet.org/hating-other-religions-fundamental-religion" target="_blank"> nasty things</a> to say about "others". "Others" being anybody who isn't 'one of us'. Oh, the other 10,000 belief systems probably have plenty of faults, but I am going to keep it to the "Big Three" for this discussion.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking people who are attracted to the idea of behaving badly under sanction of the Holy Book (whichever one you choose) represent the sad, sick part of society - ours or any.<br />
<br />
Western society, North America, Western Europe, etc. have plenty of these people although in the minority and just tolerated by the majority. Your third world countries in the Middle East - Northern Africa, etc. seem to have sanctioned these nasty scripture passages into civil law, and created whole sick, dysfunctional societies.<br />
<br />
So we have examples of life under religious dictates. Kinda makes you want to ban religion (ha, just kidding folks!). Perhaps the real answer is to make critical thinking cool, and reactionary behavior totally <u>not cool</u>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmKbNCUZYBe0OH8ZVfoFQR43lne9umczvvSWbC6ezQBma5ryn52HXhyphenhyphen4sWhEbvRL5VhdWNYmIcintoGhmGt3EKml2gfAR8YgxOOsFDMYEywHLz1EPxclME4b5nZlx6BiPxpKmL6A6OEDB/s1600/Critical+thinking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmKbNCUZYBe0OH8ZVfoFQR43lne9umczvvSWbC6ezQBma5ryn52HXhyphenhyphen4sWhEbvRL5VhdWNYmIcintoGhmGt3EKml2gfAR8YgxOOsFDMYEywHLz1EPxclME4b5nZlx6BiPxpKmL6A6OEDB/s1600/Critical+thinking.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxC8DdQBSnmTcJ_qQkFbUtfrOnaSuO128K_ve0WA1bYAOq5LOEcKDnQzjhp_T8loA3UTu2P2cO_FqpAvNmx8PbdKDFqkI4C30iyPrFsTsSXkRB-5hRodHap4ViPsHBv2N_TG_mYgWHH5J/s1600/Harsh+reaction+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxC8DdQBSnmTcJ_qQkFbUtfrOnaSuO128K_ve0WA1bYAOq5LOEcKDnQzjhp_T8loA3UTu2P2cO_FqpAvNmx8PbdKDFqkI4C30iyPrFsTsSXkRB-5hRodHap4ViPsHBv2N_TG_mYgWHH5J/s320/Harsh+reaction+quote.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-70101347809422353912016-01-04T22:38:00.000-06:002016-01-09T13:58:26.472-06:00HIgh End Madness?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I had a bit of time on my hands this afternoon, so I thought to walk through an Outlet Mall on the far NW side of town. I had last been there about 5 years ago, and since it was a smashing success, wanted to see how it had grown.<br />
Oh, it had grown . . . about 4 times the size as when I last saw it.<br />
Still packed, even on a Monday afternoon, not easy to find a parking space.<br />
<br />
So I browsed through looking at the "bargains" ($280. rubber shoes for $180.) and I started to fantasize what it would be to look like the fashionista male who wore clothing just from these stores. Why obviously I would be the coolest guy I know... or maybe just look the coolest??<br />
Feel like the coolest, but inside know it's not me, it's just the threads.<br />
<br />
I have never been a customer of the High-End Outlet Mall or The Galleria, I buy most of my clothing from resale shops. For the first time I began to wonder <i>why</i> people were lining up to buy the 'designer' shops bargains-that-were-still-way-out-of-my-price-range.<br />
<br />
Taking a closer look at my fellow shoppers (BTW, we do this more at Walmart than anywhere else - right?). I took a look at my finely-tailored fellow shoppers; most wearing the same shoes, pants, shirts, etc. that they were there to buy. Some of these folks were comfortable enough dropping 500-600. for a casual outfit, but there were plenty others for whom (I suspect) this represented a chunk of change.<br />
<br />
I am good with people doing what people do, here's the thing: This mall is full of people who bought the Mad Men created lie. They one that says if you wear the right names, it will<br />
<br />
bring up your status in the world,<br />
make you whole,<br />
<i>change your life. </i><br />
<br />
Sorry about that. I don't believe it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjja0oR3l4f7ObuOldsyah6gjmBHlghrxvNyM4dZzoJzase8Aj_29f4wVbs2QOKP2sL9_slumWM6YbeO548En6mgSn1b4QqMs6Et20wmC-Xca6sSE8vm3b_MJE-gVaY_Y4wTk5N4K-D7Veq/s1600/Men%25E2%2580%2599s-fashion-trends-2015-2016-autumn-%25E2%2580%2593-winter-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjja0oR3l4f7ObuOldsyah6gjmBHlghrxvNyM4dZzoJzase8Aj_29f4wVbs2QOKP2sL9_slumWM6YbeO548En6mgSn1b4QqMs6Et20wmC-Xca6sSE8vm3b_MJE-gVaY_Y4wTk5N4K-D7Veq/s320/Men%25E2%2580%2599s-fashion-trends-2015-2016-autumn-%25E2%2580%2593-winter-3.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
UPDATE</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Since this was written, I was invited to pick out a custom suit with my son. This was at a place called <a href="http://www.sidmashburn.com/shop/tailored-clothing.html" target="_blank">Sid Mashburn</a> - a high end store I would likely never go in (not even to browse). Yes, I did choose a very nice new suit, and it was an amazing experience. Son and I did some talking about clothes and suits in particular and were in agreement that a quality suit and shoes does change the way you are perceived by many people. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now, I want to draw a distinction between what I said above and what I am saying now: I still believe the hat with the swoosh, loud expensive sneakers, and that type of clothing don't cause your stock to rise with most of society. It could be that that whole scene is just out of my demographic...</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-27036329552323514582015-12-18T21:30:00.000-06:002016-01-04T22:49:20.074-06:002015 Personal Year in Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay, so I decided to first post my recollections about the year in month by month form from memory, then go back and look at old posts, etc. to see how that compared.<br />
<br />
January - Went on ski trip to Colorado. Attended son's company party. Both offered a good time, both were opportunities for spouse to display disregard for me and our marriage.<br />
<br />
February - Planned event to promote U Bar U. Saw old friends and had a good time. Moderate financial success. Also attended Bid Fest (Texas Ski Council) in San Antonio. Learned that even though I had been attending meetings and events for 2.5 years, no one had ever seen me before.<br />
<br />
March - Had party for spouse 60th birthday. Based on one she threw me (assuming that is what she would like).<br />
<br />
April - Rehearsed with First Unitarian choir for concert piece delivered on Easter. Great experience.<br />
<br />
May - Visit with daughter and B.F. in Bay Area. Great 4 day trip. Also Men's retreat at UBU<br />
<br />
June - Began attending Zoomers Meet Up events. Went to Child Advocates training, decided it was not for me.<br />
<br />
July - Tenant lease ends, I move out of my home into rent house. Begin fixing it up. Saw Bernie Sanders at UH. Saw Steely Dan, Elvis Costello, then EWF + Chicago.<br />
<br />
August - Started singing in choir at FUC, went on weekend camp/DG trip in hill country, started attending weekly small group meetings from church.<br />
<br />
September - Met Karen Price went on first date Sat. Sept 5 Skeeters baseball. Second date Sun. Sept 13 Last Concert Cafe, third date Sat Sept. 19 Cave Stock<br />
<br />
October - Great Mississippi River Balloon Race, Halloween on FM1960, followed by Ren Fair.<br />
<br />
November - Started playing Wed. at Michelangelo, Men's retreat, Prohibition date.<br />
<br />
December - Lot's O work. A few nice dates, Jones Hall concert, SCSC gala dinner/dance, Broadway show at Wortham, finish the month/year at the beach Port Aransas<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, highlights from my journal.<br />
<br />
January - Deep concern for my primary relationship, spouse zoned out, moved our of bedroom, etc.<br />
<br />
February - Had "The Conversation" that led to Rita lowering the boom ("I want a divorce"). Got support from my friends, and a therapist. Tough month<br />
<br />
March - Started thinking of Rita as V4.0 - not the version of life partner I have had for many years. Helps a bit. Did not have party for spouse birthday, that was last year.<br />
<br />
April - Started working on splitting the assets. Negotiating who gets what. Deciding where I want to live. Looking at options.<br />
<br />
May - Still of two minds on many issues of the future.<br />
<br />
June - Busy at work, nice camping weekend with the fellas<br />
<br />
July - Vowing to file divorce papers by September, started looking at dating apps.<br />
<br />
August - Trailer wreck, flirting on Tinder.<br />
<br />
September - Met Karen, went on date, broke a tooth, worried about Herpes.<br />
<br />
October - things ramping up with Karen, enjoy weekly singing in choir<br />
<br />
November - Started weekly at Michelangelo appreciating relationship with Karen.<br />
<br />
December - Working 7 days a week, and almost as many nights.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-21992928014835187092015-11-22T20:05:00.000-06:002015-11-22T20:49:30.409-06:00So Many Things to be Thankful For...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know, EVERYBODY does this around mid November. What we really need, is to make every Wednesday Thanksgiving.<br />
Seriously.<br />
The blessings we take for granted could fill the *Astrodome.<br />
or might as well for all they are doing with it.<br />
<br />
For the record, I have been doing "I'm thankful fors" in my journal for a good couple of months now.<br />
<br />
Tonight I want to be thankful for Family in my life.<br />
<br />
Wow, so many wonderful people...<br />
<br />
<b>Ancestors</b><br />
<br />
Parents<br />
<b>Joanne</b>- Almost more of a big sister, shared adventures, dramas, received lessons from one another.<br />
<b>Bill</b>- Big, rugged, man's man sort of guy. Fearless. The type you enjoy having a beer with.<br />
<br />
Grandparents<br />
<b>Minnie Lee</b>- Nobody could care more for me. Dramatic, smothering, yet able to back off when need be.<br />
<b>John</b>- Like my first best friend. A real peer. Connected very early in my life, stayed great friends till the end.<br />
<b>The Living</b><br />
Starting with my (one day) ex wife <b>Rita</b>.<br />
Thankful for the years we were true partners. Which, (I believe) were most of the 35 years we were married.<br />
<br />
Thankful for my great children, <b>Christopher</b> and <b>Meagan</b>.<br />
Wow, If you know these people, I don't have to go into how wonderful they are. If you <u>don't</u> know these people, well . . . better get on it. You just can't. do. better.<br />
<br />
Siblings: <b>Barbara</b>, my first sib. I was Looking at some (very) old photos of when you and I were the only children of Joanne and Bill. All the 7 years it was us... that is bonding baby.<br />
<br />
<b>Kim</b>: I was 7 when you joined us. OMG it was the most exciting thing ever! It was/has been/is cool being your big brother. A pleasure and an honor.<br />
<br />
<b>Candace</b>- not the first hidden sib I was introduced to, (that was Carol), but the one that was cute, funny and really welcoming.<br />
<br />
<b>Laura</b>- first child of the Next Generation (who would play Data?) Wow, what can I say, the one I most relate to as a person. Don't know why, don't care why.<br />
<br />
<b>Tara</b>-Next child of T.N.G. always great to be around, cute, funny, missed your mark not going into show biz. Sorry I harshed your mellow at your first divorce, hope you forgive me.<br />
<br />
<b>Martin</b>- Next child of T.N.G. like part of my own family. It was/is/shall be great being your uncle. Proud of you and the life you have created.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Natalie</b>- Talented, worthy, Always a sweetheart, a real chip off the ol' block.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Jonathan-</b> My fondest memory of you was a conversation we had around 1979. You were in your playpen, I gave you advice for your future.<br />
I'm glad you listened.<br />
<br />
<b>Tiffany- </b>don't know well, but would like to. Seems to have grown and matured into a fine woman.<br />
<br />
<b>Ashley</b>- Hard worker, apple of her mother's eye. Admirer from afar. Watching your progress, and wishing you all the best.<br />
<br />
From here it branches off into still the next generation of great nieces and nephews. People I hope to know well, and encourage and benefit from knowing.<br />
<br />
Grandchild on the way... I am about to explode with joy over that.<br />
<br />
Got to give props to my honey and squeeze. <b>Karen Jane Leeson</b>. Honey, you are absolutely a gift from heaven. SO the right girl at the right time, I hope I have been as good for you as you have been for me.<br />
<br />
I sound like a guy who thinks he is dying right?<br />
<br />
Here's the shocking part: Yes, because we are all dying. Tonight when you go to bed, understand you just used up another of your precious days here on Earth.<br />
One day, if I'm living or dead, somebody may look at this and get something positive from it. Well, good. That's what I'm here for folks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
* fun fact: "Astrodome" is not a word as spellcheck sees it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-57398985066603144532015-01-19T08:10:00.000-06:002015-11-22T20:08:02.482-06:00Paul McCartney Lived at MY HOUSE!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The funny thing was he was there about a week before it really dawned on me that it was PAUL MCCARTNEY living in my house.<br />
When it sunk in, I mentioned to my son that Paul was like part of the family now and maybe you should call him "Uncle Paul". He said "I do".<br />
<br />
We assumed he was living with us because of some project he was working on, but didn't know for sure.<br />
As a side story, we had a distant family member running for public office. Guys wearing sunglasses were visiting all the relations homes. Looking for embarrassing stuff I suppose. I wouldn't be embarrassed about Paul, but you never know... To be sure,<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2Hhi-V4L6WlQRvbepX_C4xeeXGEySpfaBizNq8CHNC0Vhgr7zLmefvPOOgNYOa_1b7Tl0wdpWL-HxeUWNZnAZyg0pMnDgjn1beVSHjiAvNyan8nbo-OsfK806duXORto5teb2SjwWR2A/s1600/Paul+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2Hhi-V4L6WlQRvbepX_C4xeeXGEySpfaBizNq8CHNC0Vhgr7zLmefvPOOgNYOa_1b7Tl0wdpWL-HxeUWNZnAZyg0pMnDgjn1beVSHjiAvNyan8nbo-OsfK806duXORto5teb2SjwWR2A/s1600/Paul+2014.jpg" /></a></div>
"our house" was bigger and cooler than our actual house. I was impressed when I walked through it.<br />
I wish I could say I remember a conversation we had, but no, he was just there walking through a room, or sitting in the back reading the paper...<br />
<br />
Still don't know why I dreamed Paul McCartney lived in my house, but there ya go!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-64407624301969896562014-11-30T16:36:00.000-06:002014-11-30T16:36:34.444-06:00Even THINKING This Would Get You Horse Whipped in MY Day!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay, so during a service at my Unitarian church, Michael Servetus was mentioned as a guy (in history) that read the Bible and noticed there was no call for us to accept a "Holy Trinity" in our theology. So he printed a pamphlet to help people realize their mistake call "On The Errors of the Trinity". This promptly got him on the sh*t list of several people, and the Christian version of a fatwa was called as a response. Upshot: M.S. = BBQ<br />
<br />
This got me to thinking about the things that have gotten people riled up to call for a lynching (or at least a sever beating) for offending the public's sensibilities.<br />
<br />
Being an old guy, I search my memory for things that people held near and dear when I was a child. We are talking about the 50's here.<br />
<br />
What I remember personally is this:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>"Whites and Blacks do not mix" (not talking about laundry here)</li>
<li>There was a weird attitude towards "Jews". Tried to figure that one out, but never could make any sense of it.</li>
<li>"Only people of low morals get divorced"</li>
<li>I am pretty sure everybody "loved the lord with all their heart" at least in public.</li>
<li>Homosexual people only existed in Europe</li>
</ul>
<div>
These are a few of the things things I remember. I'm sure generations before mine have other forms of behavior that were demanded from people in general. The further back you go, the sillier they seem. Yet, people lived and died on 'The Rules'.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4K5sFLy3i1RSRVn6Q3Hsz3G3s6CbumA9bUA017mE1vp2heQOuos2vU8eHuqyOjtPNOtGk_r-Gl0p5OfnFMxJT_ISybITCllmc0RTxv9IEWZaCB1QVHEdSScvSIK6YrggbinS0QwO1RIP_/s1600/JE+Hoover+Commie+talk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4K5sFLy3i1RSRVn6Q3Hsz3G3s6CbumA9bUA017mE1vp2heQOuos2vU8eHuqyOjtPNOtGk_r-Gl0p5OfnFMxJT_ISybITCllmc0RTxv9IEWZaCB1QVHEdSScvSIK6YrggbinS0QwO1RIP_/s1600/JE+Hoover+Commie+talk.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-40359981955002062492014-11-10T22:46:00.000-06:002014-11-10T22:46:05.573-06:00Adventures in Chinese Food Delivery - Chicago Style<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you wonder where I got my work ethic, it was from the knowledge that if I wanted something, I could get it, but I would have to work for it.<br />
I worked Saturdays on my father's used car lot to earn enough to buy a banana seat for my bicycle (age 9), and by age 11 I was ready for the big time: a job at the neighborhood supermarket. I got my Dad to front me in by telling them I was 13 when I was only 11. I had my growth spurt, so you couldn't tell. That was followed by a position as "Super Scooper" (I gave myself that name, even used it on my tax return) I might have earned $1/per hour, but it was probably less.<br />
<br />
Finally I was 17 going into my last year of high school. I needed a job. My landlord, Clifford Royce got me in at this factory in Addison IL. We made things out of wire. I made it through the winter, then got fired that spring when I asked the owner for a raise.<br />
<br />
The Shanghai Inn did a brisk delivery business in downtown Chicago, and they paid daily. Sounded good to me. So now, we present, a few adventures of *"Chinese Food Delivery Guy".<br />
<br />
Howard Dong, the owner and bossman, handed me a menu and said "put this on your dashboard and you will never get a parking ticket". Being 17, I believed him, and that menu became my talisman that protected me from all harm: Parking tickets, mugging, etc. Just to be safe, I always parked as close to the door of the building as possible. This often meant double parking, but sometimes meant triple parking. I wasn't taking any unnecessary chances.<br />
<br />
Among some of the fun times; Waiting at the main post office for someone to meet you and pick up their order. This was not desirable on account of those people NEVER tipped. One time I went with a big order and waited / / and waited / / then decided I must be in the wrong location and drove to the other end of the block. The guy I was waiting for came up to my window all out of breath screaming at me. "Didn't you hear me? I was yelling at you from down the block!!" He was furious. How could I hear him with my extra cool Blankeput radio going at 90db? I thought he was going to reach in and strangle me!<br />
<br />
Then there was the time I was at the welfare hotel with an order. This was a place where the desk clerk was behind a thick window and you push your little green pieces of paper through a special slot, and they pushed your key back at you.<br />
Well, there was somebody ahead of me, it was around midnight, so I patiently waited my turn. After about 5 minutes or so, he wandered away and I approached the window.<br />
Two big church ladies were behind the glass.<br />
They said "Did you SEE what that man did?!?"<br />
I said "No mame, Shanghai Chinese Delivery"<br />
Ignoring that, they replied : "He was pushing his Rodney at us through the change slot!"<br />
Ignoring that, I said "Can I take this order up to the customer, or can you call them to come down?"<br />
It was only later in the elevator their words sank in and I about pissed myself laughing.<br />
<br />
There are dozens of stories from this time; cars catching fire, taxi cabs crashing into me and so on.<br />
<br />
18 months of this nonsense without ever being robbed. Somehow in the back of my mind I knew the odds were stacking up against me. One bright sunny afternoon, I was walking across a field to a low income highrise when I was struck with a panic attack.<br />
<br />
It was time to find a new career.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EMcZo2N_zt_m450wv24jVmNbvw37qsfKqYeOEL-q8DJpa_BhP1yw1JamYSP-Il51HrUPcAG9dHBGAqG1Ubmukgi46GFYYlnBSV9Xpsi2-_KmSynwkEL7bOed6-9_F3XN-JweAHBPRROL/s1600/carton+chinese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EMcZo2N_zt_m450wv24jVmNbvw37qsfKqYeOEL-q8DJpa_BhP1yw1JamYSP-Il51HrUPcAG9dHBGAqG1Ubmukgi46GFYYlnBSV9Xpsi2-_KmSynwkEL7bOed6-9_F3XN-JweAHBPRROL/s1600/carton+chinese.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
* I lost my publicist from the ice cream days, hence, no fancy titles with this one.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-41081752747479056492014-10-26T10:08:00.001-05:002021-05-03T18:13:07.317-05:00Transferred to Cleveland... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQp1fgME5DaQ0sSjLht-sGxaQD8PoaQwHsniLCdwcScskW_aH_tLDJmYBBwUmX0HCpG4-GI0gEZTEp7qBHaEWeO5oNNEbigowRYydr2yH1qabevniP5mDZcobOcqbO91jzhNrNlAKCu_nx/s1600/business+dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQp1fgME5DaQ0sSjLht-sGxaQD8PoaQwHsniLCdwcScskW_aH_tLDJmYBBwUmX0HCpG4-GI0gEZTEp7qBHaEWeO5oNNEbigowRYydr2yH1qabevniP5mDZcobOcqbO91jzhNrNlAKCu_nx/s1600/business+dog.jpg" /></a></div>
<img src="file:///C:/Users/Bil%20Cusack/Downloads/business%20dog.jpg" /></div>
Years ago we knew this mother with a small child and a dog (there was a husband in there somewhere too). One day we were at her house and noticed no dog. When we asked about it, she replied "He got transferred to Cleveland".<br />
<br />
Puzzled, we asked her to explain.<br />
<br />
"That's what we told Missey" That wasn't the cat, that was the child.<br />
"She knows her uncle got transferred and went away, so that seemed like a good way to go with the dog"<br />
<br />
When we asked what <u>really</u> happened with the dog, she explained "he was in the way, we didn't want it anymore, he went to the pound".<br />
<br />
I realized that phrase had become part of my vernacular when me and my K9's were on a walk passing a yard and the dogs that usually go crazy when we walk by were quiet. I thought "I wonder where those dogs are today?" Then, "I guess they were transferred to Cleveland." After a few minutes the dogs sensed us and went crazy as always. Just on a break it seems.<br />
<br />
I don't recall exactly who that person was now, but she and that family didn't play much of a roll in our social life after that. I guess you could say our interest in them got transferred to Cleveland.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-69684320199033968992014-10-23T21:45:00.000-05:002014-10-23T21:45:01.571-05:00Where did YOU get your Ten-Thousand Hours?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQwUrAlgFV4vZcCDLXZMihIXKKtSG0fZkDylPQ0b1jE_uU-yjL6jWVD0uhhWeJmsXO6GKoX9G59Vloyn-Hasd7IC_N6gYPZh8H6wMo4wls_DFTtMEDyai8W-sW7sBhrkMod5BP-iiqQhyphenhyphen/s1600/carrousel_1961_600_part.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQwUrAlgFV4vZcCDLXZMihIXKKtSG0fZkDylPQ0b1jE_uU-yjL6jWVD0uhhWeJmsXO6GKoX9G59Vloyn-Hasd7IC_N6gYPZh8H6wMo4wls_DFTtMEDyai8W-sW7sBhrkMod5BP-iiqQhyphenhyphen/s1600/carrousel_1961_600_part.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
So I am watching a documentary about Frieda, the Beatles secretary for 11 years, and I learned that the group played The Cavern Club far more than I had believed. My impression had always been "the lads" had mainly cut there teeth in Germany.<br />
<br />
Frieda had said they performed there something like 192 times, and she had been there for 158 of those shows. Pretty impressive for all of them.<br />
<br />
The whole thing got me to thinking of MY Cavern Club, The Carousel Club in Houston Texas.<br />
I started there in early February 1974 just as I was turning 21. I worked with the band <u style="font-style: italic;"> Bittersweet</u> 6 nights a week until October of that year. Let's do the math: That is 54 nights of shows, each night being 4 sets. Not quite on par with the Fab Four, but the idea is the same.<br />
<br />
The Carousel; A very interesting place.<br />
The first time I went to check it out, was to answer an ad at the local music store. "Band seeks keyboard player". I made a call, the guy told me where they were, and invited me to drop in.<br />
I went incognito, so that I could leave if it was terrible and no one would be the wiser.<br />
What I found was a band that could draw the crowd in to what they were doing, but sometimes seemed unsure of <u>what</u> they WERE doing. I saw potential, and (most importantly) a gig.<br />
<br />
Some snippets of life at the Carousel; Characters abound. on the stage and in the audience. Chili Willy, Earl the Squirrel, Duke of Earl, Jeneane, OMG they all even had there own catch phrases like;<br />
first person: Watcha doing Earl?<br />
Earl: Workin'<br />
<br />
That was Duke of Earl, he was a longshoreman union guy. Clocked in 89 hours a week,<br />
<br />
A friend of my sisters came out in a big group, and talked with me on a break said "I can't figure out if this is a high class joint or a low class nightclub". Best not to strain yourself thinking about it. Just have fun.<br />
<br />
We had groups show up having their wedding reception with us, greasy guys just getting off work, the whole nine yards. Streaking became a national past time so we started a skinny dipping feature on Saturday nights by encouraging people to jump naked in the pool. Many did, including me.<br />
<br />
We worked up an oldies show there that took us up and out. It was fun for everybody. 6 weeks after we left the Carousel were were installed at the Galleria Roof, the #1 nightclub in Texas. A tremendous success there led to bookings all over the country. Not the Beatles, but a pretty good way to spend my early 20's.<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-4602318493736439962013-11-17T02:36:00.000-06:002013-11-17T02:39:08.454-06:00Nine Things About Me<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Big craze, on Facebook at present, "9 Things About Me..." Sort of fun, in light of all the shallow relationships we have, to learn something unexpected about someone we think we have sized up.<br />
<br />
1. I met my life partner at the age of 25, a couple of years after a failed marriage. We have been (Happy Together) 95% of my adult life (so far) 35 years.<br />
2. I was born and raised on the West side of Chicago. I moved to the (hipper) Near North side as soon as I could.<br />
3. After a couple of really great years living on the North side of Chicago, I visited my parents in Houston one Christmas. Four months later, age 18, I moved here with my girlfriend.<br />
4. My single greatest achievement is co-raising two great kids that grew into great adults.<br />
5. As a kid, I was really into music. It would have blown my mind if my adult self had shown up to explain I would have a career in which one of my jobs was supporting concerts of my idols; Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, Dr John, etc.<br />
6. I played guitar my first rock show in Chicago at age 11 for a crowd of around 4000.<br />
7. I played bass guitar in a band that regularly performed for a crowd of 55,000 in the Astrodome as part of Houston Oilers games.<br />
8. I have enjoyed snow skiing since 1975. I have skied the Lake Tahoe area, New Mexico, Colorado, New Zealand, and Jan 2014 Park City Utah.<br />
9. I have an incurable disease called Achalasia. As incurable diseases go, it is one of the better ones, but it makes for a dubious relationship with food.<br />
<br />
Bonus <i>Thing</i>: I am secretly the love child of Elvis Presley and Joanne Pankey.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI6w7tyjCt1Dt-JcX4_-sXDlJUeLOv5wwXEI5d6VnV-hsKJeiq9EnUJo5_zT3iRiSYNtn3a5g-EhTzuNqmfN2XYB8w3iSCCHLdBDxMJ81xGLr4iEjMB7G3TQ3q6F-kFwl33WODDOuCxkGE/s1600/Elvis+baby+daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI6w7tyjCt1Dt-JcX4_-sXDlJUeLOv5wwXEI5d6VnV-hsKJeiq9EnUJo5_zT3iRiSYNtn3a5g-EhTzuNqmfN2XYB8w3iSCCHLdBDxMJ81xGLr4iEjMB7G3TQ3q6F-kFwl33WODDOuCxkGE/s1600/Elvis+baby+daddy.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Momma's baby daddy.</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-58947043977717171612013-08-06T15:55:00.000-05:002013-08-06T15:55:09.036-05:00Most Intriguing Family Member? <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Everyone has family stories, <u>everybody's</u> family is dysfunctional.We all have Mommy/Daddy issues, etc. But who is the least understood, most interesting member of your family?<br />
<br />
For me that would be my mother's mother; Minnie.<br />
<br />
Minnie was like a second mother to me, always there the whole time I was growing up, a <i>helicopter </i>grandparent before the label was struck. I was indeed the apple of her eye, could do no wrong, although I was often horrible to her as a pre-teen.<br />
<br />
That she was so... (how should I put this?) Dynamic. She could love on you with all she had, but flip her switch - and I do mean 'switch', and well, remember "The Exorcist"?<br />
As a kid it was like she could never do enough for me, even long after I would say "STOP!"<br />
<br />
In 8th grade I had an after school paper route where we pushed carts with large spoked wheels (like horses would pull) full of newspapers. Like the poem about the mail, we delivered in rain, sleet, cold and serious snow.<br />
Minnie was sure I would not make it on those cold snowy days and would just have to 'come to my rescue' despite my telling her not to. I was a kid with <a href="http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2011/03/what-is-success-true-grit/" target="_blank">grit</a> and would dodge her in the alleyways of Chicago. It was like a game.<br />
<br />
She would fight a bear without a moments hesitation for any member of her family, and afterwards, after beating the bear, fight tooth and nail with her family.<br />
<br />
The first time we visited as a couple, she was hospitable and nice to R for about 30 minutes, and then vetoed the idea of bringing our small child to see his aunt (her sister) at 'the home' because "he might catch cancer from her". That my spouse would disagree caused her to fly into a rage and the bats tore out from the belfry.<br />
As I started studying psychology, I realized she was, technically speaking, <i>crazy, </i>and we had all been enabling much of her behavior all our lives.<br />
<br />
When you are raised in a crazy environment, it never occurs that this is not normal.<br />
Like 'it's not me, it's <u>you"</u><br />
I will say this, the last couple of years of her life, as advanced age set in, I never saw her angry - she became sweeter and delighted everyone at the nursing home.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-54712353978756929232013-06-09T14:16:00.000-05:002013-06-09T14:19:33.656-05:00Life After . . . ?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_H0xFt5mfUfpqZY-G2w8HBiEceJREcbbrh4RmYJjeiMtXv6cN2gLamwDcgrDzxsWBo65UzV3-hICP0mPmsx10ljMhvsfeZjmPQ8VlBRQ0iXePwC87jblUi_pU5Q_E_gg_JyifHg0yIk3/s1600/hard+knocks+U.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_H0xFt5mfUfpqZY-G2w8HBiEceJREcbbrh4RmYJjeiMtXv6cN2gLamwDcgrDzxsWBo65UzV3-hICP0mPmsx10ljMhvsfeZjmPQ8VlBRQ0iXePwC87jblUi_pU5Q_E_gg_JyifHg0yIk3/s1600/hard+knocks+U.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
You can learn much about someone listening to them tell about their life after high school.<br />
Let's face it, for some of us the door opened to a wonderful new chapter at a large university, with interesting people who (like you) have their whole future glistening (like the Emerald City) before them.<br />
<br />
There are also those of us (I include myself in this group) that completed high school (with great tenacity) and had a chapter begin called "Now What?"<br />
<br />
Yes, I have a high school diploma, class of 1970 (I don't like to brag) and THAT in itself was a big deal in my family. My father didn't earn one, my mother didn't earn one, my sister didn't and so on...<br />
<br />
I had become an <i>earner</i> very early on - 9 years old I worked Saturdays at my father's car lot, and then actually got a real <i>job</i> at 11 years old (my dad lied for me and told them I was 13) in a family owned supermarket ($1 /hr under the table - more than I made washing cars Saturdays at the used car lot). But this story is what came <u>after</u> high school.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Let me set the scene just a tad more for context. Many of my running buddies (I didn't have any actual friends) started their new lives knocking up their girlfriend and being forced to marry. <span style="font-size: x-small;">congratulations</span>. Many hung out at a park and drank Boones Farm wine on a daily basis. I joined them <i>once.</i> To be fair, I did know a couple of dudes who went on to college and thus fell into that first group I mentioned.</div>
<br />
My high school job senior year was driving Chinese food to the hungry folks of Chicagoland. I did that after school last part of the semester, and through the summer. I had a moo goo gai pan lovin' customer called George who would engage me in conversation when I would show up at the door of his high rise on Michigan avenue. After a 3-4 of these 'casual' inquires into my life, George invited me to his office to apply for a job with his small company. Wow! 17 and working at a real company indoors and everything!!!<br />
<br />
The siren song of Texas called when my girlfriend and I visited my family Christmas '71. Wow, great weather, and pretty easy living from what I could tell. Bye George, bye Chicago, I am (we are) heading for Houston!<br />
<br />
Now my second year out of high school and looking to get started in a new town (Sophomore year for you college kids). I did a stint as a waiter at Steak and Ale, a short gig as an apple stacker at Rice Food Market, then worked for a family building an add-on to their house in SW Houston.<br />
Now we are at year 3. During my Junior year at the college of Hard Knocks, I:<br />
<br />
1. Got married (age 20)<br />
2. moved to Austin and became a full-time musician<br />
<br />
Senior year would be me paying the rent (playing 5 nights per week at a lounge) and working hard to bring the band I was in to 'money' gigs.<br />
A month before my 22nd birthday, our band hit the road for 4 months with one month in Albuquerque NM, and 3 months in San Francisco (where we were, quite literally the toast of the town). Graduation!<br />
<br />
Life had officially begun, a glistening city lies ahead . . .</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-21680135464522784272013-03-31T17:42:00.000-05:002013-03-31T17:42:24.645-05:00Killing Me Loudly with his Song(s)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfZupfnrufEK-jxy0VT2QrIoQ_Idr1bdhJ-hOFFG7fGKqLwBe2qiPSr98HR7NFj9V_UKhOnQ6wYSShe3x1lH-fov36iufdFMdD0wvUCaOAZYounvwjJ0KH3C_aRWcC-qdrQTpMOwbC4Jy/s1600/70s+Elton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfZupfnrufEK-jxy0VT2QrIoQ_Idr1bdhJ-hOFFG7fGKqLwBe2qiPSr98HR7NFj9V_UKhOnQ6wYSShe3x1lH-fov36iufdFMdD0wvUCaOAZYounvwjJ0KH3C_aRWcC-qdrQTpMOwbC4Jy/s1600/70s+Elton.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Like many my age (b. 1953) the music of Elton John has been part of my life since the teen years. The man has a career spanning more than 40 years. E.J.'s first hit album was 1970, the year I graduated high school. Already a free agent, I was living on my own in Chicago. I lived in a garage apartment (my landlord called it a 'coach house'). I was already the deal; drove a <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&biw=1366&bih=600&tbm=isch&tbnid=HY8kf3FEpaPsFM:&imgrefurl=http://www.complex.com/rides/2010/03/happy-60th-birthday-great-moments-in-volkswagen-bus-history&docid=I6Gw9N3O3DCTqM&imgurl=http://cdnl.complex.com/mp/620/400/80/0/bb/1/ffffff/3ca3d11c00351426496f97ec62a9b278/images_/assets/blogs/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/volkswagenbus_opener.jpg&w=620&h=400&ei=DbpYUaWEI-jW0QH4_YCwCg&zoom=1&ved=1t:3588,r:66,s:0,i:289&iact=rc&dur=681&page=4&tbnh=179&tbnw=280&start=56&ndsp=17&tx=138&ty=111" target="_blank">VW Microbus</a>, with a pretty good sound system and radio was half-way decent back then.<br />
<br />
One night on the way home from my job delivering Chinese food, I heard an amazing song (<a href="http://youtu.be/vke6sYTxgJA" target="_blank">Levon</a>) and it blew my mind. So much emotion and energy! So there was more to this Elton guy than "It's a little bit funny..." Being a fledgling piano player,I really appreciated the voicing and the chord changes in that song.<br />
Between the music of Leon Russel and this new guy Elton John, I was ready to throw myself into piano playing for real! I took private lessons at the American Conservatory of Music and got an old upright piano in the garage part of our <i>coach house</i>.<br />
<br />
Over the years, I have performed many Elton John songs in many contexts. Sitting in the audience during his show last week really brought it all home. In over 2 hours of hits, each had some place of importance with me at a time in my life. Here are the highlights from his setlist that night (March 28, 2013):<br />
<br />
4. Levon - The song that grabbed me first. I had to learn it's secrets, both musically and lyrically. There is enough meat in the lyric to get whatever meaning you may need/want to get. An Elton Song book helped out with the chord voicings.<br />
<br />
5. Tiny Dancer - I like this one for a variety of reasons. We worked it up and played it right away when it came out ('dropped' in today's parlance). A cool, personal story of observations. Used very well in the Cameron Crowe film <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Qn3tel9FWU" target="_blank">Almost Famous</a></i>. <i>Tiny Dancer</i> is still a go-to tune if I am on the spot - I can play it/sing it unconscious.<br />
<br />
8. Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters - One from the Tumbleweed Connection record. I worked it up just for the fun, never done it in a show. The Bernie Taupin words have a flow that that can still grab you by the heart to this day.<br />
<br />
9. Philadelpia Freedom - one Elton wrote for his friend Billy Jean King (the tennis player). It uses what was called "the Philly Sound" in horns, strings and b,g. vocals. It's just a song that makes me happy.<br />
<br />
10. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - a groundbreaking album for E.J. wonderful music coming from a whole new place, A song I enjoy playing in instrumental gigs, although the sentiment of the lyric is a tugger of the ole heartstrings.<br />
<br />
11. Rocket Man - Two local men gave an art show. One was an astronaut who had personally set foot on the moon. The other man was his patron. He commissioned the <a href="http://www.alanbean.com/" target="_blank">astronaut/artist</a> to make him a painting. I was hired to play music for the unveiling of the painting. After a brief lecture of what went into painting his work, what else could my first song be?<br />
<br />
14. I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues - We did this one in my 80's trio <i>The Cadillac Band,</i> It was therapy for drummer Bill as he went through his separation/divorce.<br />
<br />
19. Daniel - another 'go to' song. 'Played it in many bands, contexts, still play it.<br />
<br />
20. Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word - Another tune performed nightly in a duo I worked in the early 80's. My partner (the singer) was in the middle of a love triangle.<br />
<br />
22. Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me - A song I sang in 1974, We spent a good deal of time getting the backing vocals down. It was the first time I ever got a 'standing O'.<br />
<br />
There are more, but I realize this has gotten past the length of a normal piece and the blogger police will surely be after me. Killing me loudly . . . indeed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXSLMXSR0gN_guHeI6YQqHojdkhJsw63tOYfQ85ZVgUt3zbedFbaBF8XkPoeWPGoSEFqg9a3ZLjjOGCaBr66_MaIMU3skZqdAcs8QRzsh5nrdXlX_nXrYteIx1nSylAgy9xxYDW1U6s2V/s1600/2013+Elton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXSLMXSR0gN_guHeI6YQqHojdkhJsw63tOYfQ85ZVgUt3zbedFbaBF8XkPoeWPGoSEFqg9a3ZLjjOGCaBr66_MaIMU3skZqdAcs8QRzsh5nrdXlX_nXrYteIx1nSylAgy9xxYDW1U6s2V/s1600/2013+Elton.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-62077673797081627882013-02-10T12:29:00.000-06:002013-02-10T12:29:52.514-06:00Life of Plane (Air that is)...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOd0vzJR5rD7upL-WhQEE9pewo5UgP-gGqv6ONdRGkSTe6Cle0TERwbiUB9eOI-xV-40WfcZtI_bNywjr5DS1yUYJoKXoHJXNeGZI978zsfBSNDEtfn9YfNaM9lqWJZy2CTrrazpphmd-/s1600/airplane+in+space.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOd0vzJR5rD7upL-WhQEE9pewo5UgP-gGqv6ONdRGkSTe6Cle0TERwbiUB9eOI-xV-40WfcZtI_bNywjr5DS1yUYJoKXoHJXNeGZI978zsfBSNDEtfn9YfNaM9lqWJZy2CTrrazpphmd-/s1600/airplane+in+space.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I awoke in an airplane. A pretty decent airplane. I felt there was a reason for me to be here, and I'd better start working out what it is.<br />
<br />
As time went on, I took stock of what I had going for me. A pretty good machine, enough food to eat, companionship, a family who loved me... not bad!<br />
<br />
Since my life was happening on (in) the airplane, I threw myself into learning about it. What made it fly? How do you get it off the ground? How high is up?<br />
<br />
Thankfully I would receive clues from others more worldly than me. "Never co-sign a loan" (a good one), "Save your money" another good one. "Work hard at what you love to do", "Choose your companions wisely". And so on.<br />
<br />
Having come from a long line of men who "flew their own planes", my time spent working on other's flight plans has been relatively short: I worked for wages from high school until a couple of years after H.S.<br />
After that, "the sky was the limit".<br />
<br />
It has taken 2/3 of a lifetime to realize our journey (life) is like an assignment to fly a plane around the world.<br />
<br />
I recall time spent trying to figure out what I would do, then how I would do it. The biggest moment of that period was realizing I had choices and they were more than just those I saw around me.<br />
<br />
There were years spent climbing, gaining altitude, struggling to reach goals and milestones.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
and</div>
Years spent cruising at a fairly comfortable level, working but not struggling, worrying.<br />
<br />
It is evident as I see my 60th birthday on the calendar, that this airplane is coming down at some point.<br />
<br />
But for the time being, I wouldn't mind taking it a few thousand feet higher first . . . </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-51882118751659888052013-01-01T20:24:00.000-06:002013-01-01T20:24:34.941-06:00Sleeping on the Floor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been reading Adam Carolla's book "Not Taco Bell Material" a Memoir. His life and mine have a number of similarities, so reading it has been a compare/contrast exercise. One of his theories has to do with the correlation between how far off the floor you are sleeping and how your life is going.<br />
<br />
Being one who has slept on hard floors and about 3 feet off the floor, I think I have the qualifications to comment on this. When I went out on my own as a teen, I was on the floor. First sleeping on a waterbed. I was working an entry level job in Chicago and lived with a roomate. Not the best of worlds, but not all that bad. A good few steps ahead of my high school buddies at the time.<br />
<br />
From there, was Houston. Sleeping on a cheap foam rubber mattress. It had a flimsy frame to hold it. BUT WAIT - the San Francisco gig found my then spouse and me back on the floor on a small mattress. A minor local celebrity, until we went to crash.<br />
<br />
Quick flash forward, my father discovered a method for raising the bed really high, you almost had to get a step ladder to get into it. I used that method as a (single guy) larger fish in the small pond then known as Clear Lake (Our Bay Area). I did enjoy that time and the tall bed.<br />
<br />
That was a long time ago.<br />
<br />
My "adult life" has kept the mattress a respectable distance from the floor, although our current bed is a little low. The head board is about right, while the footboard is low. This is due to my habit of chocking in my sleep without the incline. Here's hoping your bed is just about 30.5" from the floor...<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-44716700031724566382012-12-08T13:05:00.001-06:002012-12-08T13:05:30.167-06:00One More Thing To Be Thankful For...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdWSvncyH7rPks7BrPDmJ1ZbjOsYEBKCYiEpP6HdbLqRjkcqQ3PmzGftFJ1n-Y_sxkdz4oRY6X1L9lIuAM825XC9PMQAD2WDbKKF3zdhmiIvJNo8X5yXUzShrFCkHpnb39Ml62ez7fF5-/s1600/do+as+told.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsdWSvncyH7rPks7BrPDmJ1ZbjOsYEBKCYiEpP6HdbLqRjkcqQ3PmzGftFJ1n-Y_sxkdz4oRY6X1L9lIuAM825XC9PMQAD2WDbKKF3zdhmiIvJNo8X5yXUzShrFCkHpnb39Ml62ez7fF5-/s1600/do+as+told.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Ever since I heard this <a href="http://www.npr.org/2012/12/06/166593065/why-no-ones-going-to-timbuktu-these-days" target="_blank">story on NPR</a> about how extremists have taken over Timbuktu, the wonder of the psychology of Totalitarian politics has been on my mind.<br />
I guess it got personal when I heard a musician say "I had to move south or be arrested..."<br />
Cleric don't 'low no music playin' here.<br />
<br />
So it seems there have always been this ilk driven by a need to control others. In extreme cases it becomes a political system bent on dictating individual behavior and thought. Most of us who have any experience with it know it on the family level, a 'controlling boss', or perhaps a religion.<br />
<br />
Imagine living in a society where your neighbor or family member will turn you in for speaking your mind?<br />
That is my version of hell. Which brings me to another thought:<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
"Glimmers of your life being <i>heavenly</i> is a sign you are on the path. Experiencing life as <i>hell</i> indicates you are off the path."</h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jsnZmn60fMSUxex9R9AKLLhgA1R1UYVepBnNotYxhXCuVouhZeQTzwmGZ8ubRZT9MR1Zbav7xLky4skM3EUEaJkz4yCJbbX7941QtQ_OMPdXxYnEKtQo0s6lSTV4wfFtTWomNlGxDfm9/s1600/state+of+mind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jsnZmn60fMSUxex9R9AKLLhgA1R1UYVepBnNotYxhXCuVouhZeQTzwmGZ8ubRZT9MR1Zbav7xLky4skM3EUEaJkz4yCJbbX7941QtQ_OMPdXxYnEKtQo0s6lSTV4wfFtTWomNlGxDfm9/s320/state+of+mind.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009066113960118662.post-55187895991172878542012-11-04T17:07:00.000-06:002012-11-04T17:44:48.164-06:00How to Get Along in a (Politically) Intolerant Society<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
'Heard a good (radio program) <a href="http://www.thisamericanlife.org/podcast" target="_blank">"This American Life"</a> yesterday, 'dealing with the fallout of people who do not agree on political matters. This is a serious subject that effects everyone. They presented life-long friends who no longer speak, family members, who are no longer welcome at family gatherings, the works.<br />
<br />
We all know people like this, and most of us have a personal experience in line with this. So what can we do about it? Make no mistake, this is <u>everyone's</u> problem.<br />
<br />
<b>First step</b>: don't start a conversation around politics unless you are ready to have a civil conversation on the subject. Many is the time someone has started this conversation with me with the agenda of being affirmed.<br />
If you ask me what I think, be prepared to accept "this is what I think". A 30 minute lecture from you is not going to "straighten me out".<br />
<br />
<b>Step two:</b> Seek to understand (the other person) NOT be understood. That means letting the other person explain their thoughts. Not everyone is a political scientist, so often this takes patience.<br />
If the other party does not echo your belief system, IT DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE WRONG. It means their life experience, religion, etc. has led them to a different conclusion.<br />
<br />
<b>Step three:</b> Please accept that being Americans means we have the <u>freedom</u> of having our own political beliefs, our own religious practices, even (just recently in some states) love who we are inclined to love. A demand that your way is the RIGHT way and anything else is the "wrong way" is a tossing out of the basis of what America stands for.<br />
<br />
<b>Step Four:</b> Take a step back and <u>really</u> think about the BIG PICTURE. Are the thoughts in your head really worth alienating your friends and family members? I can respect your passion, but what are you accomplishing? I am not in charge of the world and neither are you. Try to have a little faith in people.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0