The Fat Bastard may be done but my mind still needs the release of endorphins I get when a thought gets stuck in my brain. It germinates and then ruminates in my subconcious. Reducing my thoughts to a mash of possibilities/probabilities and then I slowly strain out the noise and nonsense and come to what appears to be clarity. That's when I need to sit down and put my thoughts and feelings and madness to paper so they become real. "A thought that's left unspoken can never be proven true" That's a line from one of my songs that has no music...yet. And that's what this Blog is about. Random Thoughts and Meaningless Gestures. No chronology or outline just stuff!
Today was a day of music and reflection. I manged to ignore the giant pile of laundry in the bedroom by closing the closet door and sat in the living room watching the Excited States implode right before my very eyes. That is if you watch MSNBC. If one more elected lunatic calls Trump Hitler I might just gas myself! A guy from Queens who builds things and a maniac who exterminated 7 million people! The comparison is obvious. While that's going on with the left the right, courtesy of FOX News are pounding Obama for taking $400 k to speak at a Wall Street Function after stating unequivically that he would not be "Going to Wall Street" Bet that's got Bernies panties in a knot! Hillary's okay with it! As long as she gets a taste! Does that seem overly cynical? Good! I meant it that way. I am stunned and dismayed at the lack of intelligent discourse being shown by everyone involved but the hate and venom coming from the left is appalling. They actually make that sleezebag Trump look good by comparison.
Michelle with one L was looking after her Grandson Evan today. Bright kid who really likes music. We palyed a few songs but what he really likes is to sing with a microphone and a lot of delay. I told him it was broken. Is it bad to lie to a kid who's not yours. I know you lie to your own kids all the time. Santa, the Tooth Fairy, Mum and Uncle Ernie where just wrestling in the bushes at the family picinic! Then he and Michelle with one L baked a cake and heated up a can of beans' not necesarrily in that order. That was my motivation to leave. I wanted to be gone before the cake was out of the oven and the beans started working on Evans digestive track.
After a couple of hours of yelling at the TV and enough coffee to swell my prostate to the size of a canteloupe I decided to spread my joy and music to the residents of Mama Lee's care facility. So with giant pile of laundry completely out of my mind and behind closed doors and the perculating Evan just finishing up his beanfest, I harnessed up the hounds, okay Ratdogs. Guitar in one hand and bucket of compost in the other I headed out dumped the compost and dragged my cans back onto the property lest I suffer another $500 fine from the Garbage Nazi's. I stopped at the park and let the Ratdogs do their thing. The sun came out about 11 am and it was turning out to be a beauty of a spring day. The Poop Fairy hit the Ratdogs like they were synchronized swimmers. I don't know why but I always feel like I won something when I can pick up 2 poops with one bag. "It smells like Victory" I always take the Ratdogs to the park before going to see Mama Lee. I don't need Elvis peeing on some old ladies wheelchair or Nutmeg leaving a McNugget in some ones room!
They were just finishing lunch when I got there I sat and talked to Mama Lee while she finished her lunch and set up in the main room at about 12:30. When I say set up I mean I take off my jacket and tune my guitar. No amp, no microphone just me and my 50 year old classical guitar. Love those nylon strings. I have a nice Fender amp that I could play and sing through but I think that singing loud enough for 40 octagenarians to hear me is helping my singing. I see some of them tapping their feet or clapping, sort of. It's not always in time to the music so I'm not sure if the music moves them or if that's just their affliction. Elvis and Nutmeg work the room pretty good during lunch. I think all the residents feed them. Nutmeg is pushing 8 pounds but Elvis is maintaining his Squirrel fighting weight of 4 pounds 11 ounces. Let's just call that one of those random thoughts! I started out playing Marguerita Ville as I usually do to an entirely empty room. The Care Aides started pushing people over in my direction and I soon had a couple of dozen residents apparently enjoying the music. On the third song I noticed that Mama Lee had gotten herself stuck against the door jamb and was trying to get free. I finished the song and rescued Mama Lee. With Mama Lee sitting center stage I played song after song from my Not Dead Yet song book. I play mostly 60's and 70's stuff. That would make most of the residents in their 20's in 1960. The first generation of rock and rollers! And of course everybody loves Elvis! Elvis Presley too! Three times Elvis stood up to say hello to the woman beside me. Three times she tried to pick him up but wasn't strong enough. I reached over and picked him up and put him on her lap. He settled in like he belonged there. She was glowing as she petted him and her smile never quit. Elvis sat there in her lap for over an hour. That is so not Elvis. He's 15 and a cranky old man! I know this he got it from Me! Looking out at the faces of these people as they wind down their lives, broken in body and mind. To a person, smiling up at me from the restrictions of their wheelchairs or the restrictions of their minds. I often wonder if they enjoy the music or just enjoy the break in the tedium that is their lives. I don't care either way. This could easily be the meaningless gesture part of the show. If I can give these people a few moments of enjoyment after the 90 or so years they gave this country I'm happy to do it. Even if the memory leaves them as soon as I do. I played until 2 pm, 30 minutes past bingo time. Nobody cared and most of the 56 residents were there by the time I finished. Trust me you don't want to be cutting into bingo time! I took Mama Lee down to her room and set up her radio and got her prayer books organised. Her and a bunch of like minded souls pray every day at 3 pm. They think that by all praying at the same time God will be able to hear them better. What if God thinks they're yelling at him? " You're yelling at me? You're yelling at ME?!!" " Fuck you! Here's a tsunami!" " Yell at me will you? Nobody yells at Me!" Just saying! Hey, read the Old Testament. Between the begettings there was not a lot of warm and fuzzies. Politics and Religion what levels have I sunk to?
I went home by way of Mundy Park where the Ratdogs ran around peeing on stuff for ten minutes or so. I was just pulling out of the parking lot when the Pound Van pulled in. I'm going to give you the Readers Digest version of the rest of the afternoon. I made dinner. Squatch Fake Baked Fried Chicken, home cut fries and cole slaw. I have been tweaking my recipe for a while now and I think it's just about perfect.
I had dinner on the table when the lovely Lisa walked through the door after work. She is on hiatus from OUAT until July so Nin, her boss, asked her to do a week on a short film and she agreed. The lovely Lisa and Michelle with one L raved about the meal. I'll do a What's cooking Squatch? video next time I make it. The lovely Lisa had just come from seeing Mama Lee and said they were still talking about show and the dogs and when was I coming back so maybe some of them do remeber. After dinner, with the lovely Lisa ensconced on the couch and a 10 am call time I decided to go to the open Mic at the Pressbox Lounge at the Atrium Hotel in Vancouver. It's my first time at this acoustic open mic. I've gone to their Sunday Jam a couple of times but I really prefer an open mic. I want to play my own songs. I don't get the same buzz from jamming. Any way I get there just before 8 and stopped dead when I walked through the door.Pardon the pun. I walked into the middle of a memorial service. I hadn't even brushed my hair! I looked like the offspring of Albert Einstein and an angora guinea pig! Plus I was wearing my bright orange BC Lions (Roar) Jersey. Thank God the lovely Lisa made me put pants on. I was wearing sweats and they had a caulk stain on the thigh. Write your own joke. So I threw on my jeans. Everyone was in black. I was the preverbial stiff dick at the wedding. A guy came up as I was about to leave and told me the Open mic was going to start shortly. I made my way to the far end of the bar and ordered a beer. There was only one other person not greiving John the former Handyman at the hotel. It had just ended and the guests were milling around catching up and noshing on some appies. I was still full of Squatch Fake Baked Fried Chicken so I didn't even try to poach a single potato skin. The guy at the bar turned out to be a guy I did an Audi commercial with years ago. We were bikers. I know, hard to believe Huh? They started the show with most of the guests still talking and catching up. I couldn't hear a thing so I watched the Oilers beat the Ducks. Yesss! Three groups had hit the stage when the host said are you ready? Yes I am ....not. As I took my guitar out of the case the electrics fell into the guitar rendering it electronically impotent! I love that guitar I knew it had an issue and I took it a couple of places and was told to buy a new guitar. If I buy another guitar I'll be living in the street. Not counting the Lap Steel I have 6 guitars. I have only 2 hands. I borrowed a guitar and hit the stage. Just before coming to the stage I met Jennifer. She was the Bartender the first 2 times I was at the Press Box. She was also John the dead guy's girlfriend. The bar was still loud when I got to the stage. I tuned up and started talking about losing someone close to you. I told them about the year I lost Barb, Henry and Scott all in one winter. By the time I started It Didn't Rain, I had the rooms attention. It's much easier for me to sing it when I don't know the person. I finished the song with a dedication to John. I didn't give them a chance to break into discussion groups I kept talking and spun out the story of the Question about being in love for 15 years and about using the song to get out of trouble with the lovely Lisa. I finished with Walls Aroun d Your Heart because I think it's the best thing I ever wrote and it's never a bad idea to make a good first impression. Jennifer was waiting when I got off the stage. Thanked me for the song and gave me a big hug. I finished my second beer and headed for the door. All the way home I was thinking about life and death and the fine line that keeps us above ground. Like my good Buddy Mike Adams says "Ever
y day above ground is a Good Day" Here John is dead at 31 and Agnes who is 96 and not with us, is still with us. I'm not trying to figure out what's fair and what's not fair. I don't think it's part of the equation. The circle is complete. We all have an expiry date. It's just not stamped on your ass like a can of beans!
Peace Out Y'all
That's all I've got
Till next time
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