Zaurak

My old lady bought me a telescope for Christmas.  Not just any telescope, Astronauts Without Borders Newtonian 130.  The directions explicitly stated, "Put this machine together during the daytime, with plenty of space" and I believe it even said, "sober" but I decided to try it out half-drunk, late at night, in our living room, immediately after opening the gift.

After I removed a spring loaded screw and was not able to reattach it I yelled angrily and stormed about until my Old Lady was upset as well.  Merry Christmas!

The next morning dear old Dad helped me reattach the screw.  Meanwhile, I had emailed Astronauts Without Borders (AWB henceforth) and received further instruction from the President of the company.  How cool is that. I was collimated and ready to shoot the moon.

Unfortunately, we are in the part of the moon cycle where she is the least visible, so we had to wish for a star.  My wife and I are essentially virgin astronomers, and we once again found ourselves half drunk, but this time the scope was working.  Using the lower powered, wider angled eyepiece we were able to focus in on clumps of stars.

Even without the scope by looking out the bedroom window we could see one star right in front of us, really outshining the others.  We used our cell phone app that maps the sky and determined it had the Bayer designation, aka lame star name, of Gamma Eridani, but was also traditionally known as a slick Arabic word for boat, Zaurak.

We were able to locate Zaurak using the high powered eyepiece.  On Zaurak's wikipedia page it says the red giant star is over 200 light years away from us.  What the fuck is a light year?

A light year is the distance light can travel (about 186,000 miles per second) in one year, or about six trillion miles.

Last night we looked at a star that is (six trillion multiplied by 200) miles away.  My old lady bought me a telescope for Christmas but what she really gave me was Light, Space, Time, the entire fucking Universe.

Weed Laws

Excerpt of a statement from MASS CANN/NORML:

The Massachusetts Senate and House voted yesterday to approve a bill delaying the opening of marijuana stores from January 2018 to July 2018 and also exempting marijuana cultivation from the definition of agriculture. This bill, S2524, not only flies in the face of the will of the voters who voted for the January 2018 deadline, it shows contempt for the legislature itself, having been passed, not after three readings to the full House and Senate, but in the course of less than an hour by just two senators and five representatives at a time when the full legislature is not in session.

Statement from Charlie Baker:

"The Baker-Polito Administration has been clear that it shares the Legislature’s desire to thoroughly prepare for launching an entirely new industry distributing a controlled substance," Baker spokesman Lizzy Guyton said in a statement. The administration is "committed to adhering to the will of the voters by implementing the new law as effectively and responsibly as possible."

If our Governor was actually "committed to adhering to the will of the voters" then he would have defended the specifications of the bill we fucking voted for.  This is what passes for democracy in Massachusetts.

Gig

at the gig tonight the drummer said he has been officially diagnosed with tinnitus.  the singer said this tuesday he predicts he will be officially diagnosed with diabetes.  This past week the guitarist came home to find a neighbor passed out drunk in the yard, covered in his own piss and shit.  They dragged him back into his apartment.  Two days later he was found dead.  Jeff wondered if he had called the police that day if his neighbor would still be alive.  I argued otherwise.

there was a man in a black fedora and a white suit jacket.  he had made 5 greeting cards, one for each member of the band.  Initially I took one with a maple leaf, a sticker of a sleigh filled with presents, a silver faerie, and an old santa claus.  Then Jeff displayed the remaining four and one had a real pretty girl on it so I traded mine back and took the one with the pretty girl.  She doesn't seem as pretty looking at her now.

2016: Good TV

(Editor's Note: the consumption of art is not an artistic endeavor. It's just consumption.)

-The Night Of (HBO)

8 episodes. Sets the new gold standard for Law & Order style cop lawyer murder shows.

-Stranger Things (Netflix)

8 episodes. Beautifully captures 1980's sci-fi vibe.

-The Get Down (Netflix)

6 episodes. Intriguing characters in South Bronx 1977 amidst the birth of hip hop.

-Easy (Netflix) 

8 sexy half hour comedy drama vignettes.

-Love (Netflix)

10 episodes. Judd Apatow's name on the marquee but Paul Rust & Gillian Jacobs are legit.

-Better Things (FX) 

10 episodes. We loved Pamela Adlon on "Louie" equally love this show they made together.

-Atlanta (FX) 

10 episodes. Donald Glover's comedy-drama set in the Atlanta rap scene is unique. 

Ode to a Good Woman

A Good Woman
prepared a special dish just for me
sang a duet with me in the bar
thinks I am full of shit
and resents the entire notion
of a poem about a Good Woman

Missed One

I am surprised that Rape did not make the Ten Commandments.

Email From a Parent

Ok, great.  {Student} made up a little song, though he said he doesn’t want to show it to you.  See you tomorrow.

Thanksgiving 2016: Best Dish

Honorable Mention:  Alicia's Bacon Wrapped Dates

I had to retract my joke that perhaps Cousin Alicia was too cheap to buy scallops because these bacon wrapped dates were one of the best dishes all weekend.

Honorable Mention: Mom's Homemade Ravioli

Ravioli from scratch.  Enough said.

Honorable Mention: Jackie's Sweet Potato Mash

The brown sugar and almond topping was heavenly.  Recipe requested.

Winner: Cris' Ginger Sweet Potato

I didn't know Aunt Cris could cook.  Cris' thanksgiving tradition is trying to convince people she made my mom's ravioli.  She texted me the recipe for her ginger sweet potato yesterday.

"Slice potato 1/8 thin.  Stand up next to each other in an oiled pan.  Do not lay flat.  Melt stick of butter (Editor's Note: uf!  maybe my next post will be about butter) and brush between each slice. Bake 400 degrees covered tightly 40 min.  Mix 1/2 cup brown sugar, grate 2 tablespoons fresh ginger, 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon pepper and spread across the top of the potatoes.  Return to 400 for another 30 uncovered. (Editor's Note: Classic aunt ending next) Broil top if you want to make it crunchy at the end!  Keep a good eye on it burns quickly"

Wisdom, for a toke?

The night before Thanksgiving the band was playing at Katrina's bar.  Rather, it was before the gig, and we were in the back alley getting properly stoned.  He came around the corner with flowing white hair and a long white beard.  My people call him Evil Santa.  I didn't know his name but I know he wanted to smoke our weed.  He asked us, "Can I trade you a bit of wisdom for a toke?"

I actually thought that was a fair trade.  He took a hit off my little glass pipe and then he coughed one of those coughs that you have to earn after a lifetime of smoking.  A cough that makes the listener want to never smoke anything ever again.  And then he spoke to us,

"I was twenty years old and I was with a hooker.  She told me that you should never get too comfortable.  When things get too good, cut and run."

And we all had a good laugh.  And he started repeating the last sentence in fragments the way satisfied drunks do.  Cut and run.  Cut and run.  Cut and run.  Things too good?  Cut and run.

Jeffrey said, "Moses, that bit of wisdom was certainly NOT inspirational" and I was glad to know his name is Moses and I asked him if he followed the hooker's advice throughout his life.

"No if I had followed her advice I wouldn't have four fuckin kids and ex-wives and a car and a job and house in Lynn man I had it all and what have I got now man fuckin nothing that's what."

I asked him how do you know when to cut and run and he said, "Oh you know" and Jeffrey said, "I agree with Moses.  You know."

Personal Resolutions for Trumpamerica

I am still trying to wrap my head around President-Elect Donald Trump.

What part can I play in preventing his message of hate from taking hold of our country?

For now, I deactivated my social media pages. (See no evil). I hope to eat less processed foods (Eat no evil) and read more literature. I plan to write, record and release music. (Speaking evil is ok) To be a better music teacher.

Practice real hard on the bass and the guitar and the piano and the fiddle and the little uke also
Play just for fun the bass and the guitar and the piano and the fiddle and the little uke.

To spend Time with family.  Long lost mothers neglected brothers and cousins and nieces.

To smile at and say Hello to strangers.

I am not sure what to do.  At all.

I am going to start by putting on a record and changing the lightbulbs up the top of the stairs that have been out for two or three days now.

Food and Family

Bottle for baby nephew.
He prefers that you stand during the process.
Is this the first bottle I've ever fed a baby?
It fucking feels like it.

I'll never know for certain if I have
some sort of weird Mom/food complex
because my old lady cooks so well.
I bet I would if she didn't.

In the fridge is our big glass jar of Mom's chili
next to her niece's can of Hormel inside a plastic bag.
I offered the chili
without telling her niece to throw away the Hormel
and never buy it again.
Which is a big step for me.

Little League and Mother's Day

Do you remember when my mom coached my brother's little league team? It was awesome.

I remember the other coaches gave her hell about being a lady coach, even though our story takes place in 1996.

I asked Mom if she could remember any memorable insults hurled her way during the course of volunteering to coach baseball for ten year olds in a small town.  Her response:

• " I'm not going against a woman" ( first game of the season as a head coach)

• " you are the most unreasonable coach I've ever met" ( wanted to call a game due to darkness)

• " Are you trying to ruin the game" ( suggested separating the league into farm / minors / majors and making farm and minors non competitive)

• " think about what you are doing to the game" ( suggested using safe balls for 5-7 year olds)

• "Why are you buying the team ice cream, you lost? That's the problem with you"

These are the ones that stuck with me.
Two reasons it was all worth it:
Years later I was approached by a young woman who was on one of our teams. She said that she had the best time playing for me because none of the men coaches ever let her out of right field. She felt I was fair.
A young man said that his folks were getting divorced the year he played for me and that it helped him to get through a difficult time.
That's all I got.
------

Thanks Mom that's more than enough. 

CDC: Trump Sickness Update

My father backed off his Trump support. I emailed the CDC to let them know that while Trump Sickness is airborne and highly contagious it apparently can subside on it's own over time.  Dad hasn't formally apologized to the family for voting republican in the primary and we will probably let him slide because his fatherly record otherwise is essentially immaculate over the past three decades.

Donald Trump Swallows Ted Cruz Whole

Ted Cruz died tonight. Politically speaking. I enjoyed watching him die. He spoke of Republican things like Russia and China and Fireworks on the Fourth of July and his mother praying and God.

God only backs Winners and Ted knows it. The crowd cried out, "NO!" when he announced he was suspending his campaign but his smug smile remained perfectly crooked.

2016: The Year of the Fear Coma

Arguing with an old friend I realized that my logic was useless as he was in the midst of a full blown Fear Coma.  A few days later, I noticed the same problem in my own father.  I felt partially responsible.  Had I not seen the warning signs?

Tell-Tale Signs of a Fear Coma

1) Are you convinced other humans covet your possessions?

2) Do you feel your homestead is at risk to foreign invaders?

3) Do you use terms like "shooting from the hip" and "telling it like it is"?

4) Do you tell people the government should be run like a business?

5) Have you posted or emailed a link to the wikipedia page with a list of Islamic Terrorists?

It may not be too late.  With professional assistance, you may be able to truly understand the insignificance of your existence so that you may once again thrive within our society.

These remedies are tried and true and vary in strength depending on the severity of your condition.

The Dr. Thompson:

-2 quarts wild turkey
-typewriter
-Allman Brothers "Mountain Jam"

The Thoreau:

-pen & paper
-the forest
-2 years, 2 months, 2 days

The Full Nelson:

-guitars & songs
-joints
-sixty years

New Trump City

     In the beginning I figured Trump's motivation was an extra sentence on his obituary.  Instead of reading "hotel owner" the opening line to the summary of his life would now read, "hotel owner and presidential candidate."  He was following a model for rich boys created by Ross Perot in the 1990s.  I certainly did not take him seriously.  Trump was simply a pre-season fluff piece.

     I cannot imagine the surprise and joy Trump felt when the Republicans lined up Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio.  He must have thought Holy Shit, these guys can take me all the way to the big dance.

     Trump won Massachusetts.  My mother cried when my father told her he had voted for Trump.  I found aunts, cousins, in-laws and co-workers had followed suit.  When asked to defend their support of this megalomaniac they babble incoherently about "giving away the store" and "shooting from the hip".

     Trump is a "successful businessman" who has never publicly released his tax returns.  Trump wants to divide our country.  The leaders of the world will not respect Trump.  The leaders of our fifth grade orchestra do not respect Donald Trump.

New House Sounds

Steam radiators.
The tea is ready,
all over the house.

I had a nightmare.
Paper bag crinkling,
A mouse was inside.

Refrigerator
burps against the wall.
Investigation.

Old toilets jangled
intermittently.
Apologetic
plumber made it stop.
On the house. For now.

Mice

     Tessio was pacing as Wilhelm approached.  He smiled at his brother, his best friend, and said, “Something smells delicious.”
     Tessio was furious.  “Delicious?  Are you insane?  Are you trying to tell me you do not smell the cat?  How did you sleep all day?”
     Wilhelm smiled and responded, “That was a lot of questions.  I will begin by responding to the one about sleep.  A healthy mouse needs ten hours of sleep every day, at least.  This could by why you are so tense, dear brother.  Perhaps you are not getting a full ten hours.”
     Tessio sighed.  “It’s over.  We should have left a month ago.  Karl said there is a box next to him across the street…”
     Wilhelm cut him off, laughing aloud.  “Karl.  A box.  You are joking.  You are telling jokes.  This is Manhattan and there are eight mice in a pathetic bar listening to jokes and it’s you telling them.”
     Tessio began to weep.  “I’m so hungry.  I don’t want to die.  I don’t want to live with Karl.  I don’t want to move all my things again.  I’m setup here.  I like it here.  I know you smell that cat.”
     Wilhem replied seriously, “Brother, I smell food, for the first time in a month.  I know you smell the peanut butter.  Stay with me one more night.  Work one more job with me, like when we were kids."

     Wilhelm cried out, “Brother, I am nearly finished.  Brother, do not lose hope.”
     Tessio replied sternly, “Do not do it Wil.  You will bleed out.”
“I will not bleed out.  I will get help.  I will find Karl.  Or Mom and Dad.”  Wilhelm was pushing with all his might, trying to tear his own leg from his body.  His leg was already dead and stuck, pressed to the ground in a tray of glue.  His dear brother Tessio lay across the room from him, in a similar tray, his entire body glued in a trap.
     Tessio spoke quietly, “Mom and Dad have eighty seven babies.  They forgot about us years ago.  You were a good brother Wilhelm.  We were a good team.”  

Brush

We were relaxing after a long week.  I reached to scratch the back of my head.  My fingers flowed freely through my long brown hair until I reached a spot about six inches above my neck.  I touched a fuzzy clump of hair the size of a silver dollar.  It was flat and tangled in a dreadlocked knot.  As my fingers explored I discovered that this main hair clump branched into tributaries and veins of tangled mess.  I asked my wife for help.

"Everyone girl learns this lesson when she is seven." she said laughing and brushing violently through the tangles.  "I have a pixie cut in my second grade picture because my mom followed through with her threats.  When is the last time you brushed your hair?"

I have not brushed my hair in the two or three years that I have been letting it grow out.  I certainly will now, maybe daily.  It was an embarrassing and slightly painful experience to need my wife to brush the tangles from my hair.  At least she enjoyed it.  Uncle Mike had mentioned to her just yesterday that he uses a Detangling spray on his hair, before he brushes it.

Lights

Saturday night.  The show was over and the amps were back in our cars.  The bartenders closed out the cash register and the band got paid.  I fired up my truck and headed home.

The first thing I saw is that instead of a taxi at the taxi stand there is an SUV that I can tell is an unmarked police officer.  Immediately the lights of the SUV turn on and pulls out behind me.

I'm not drunk but I drank drinks earlier, when it was Early.  Now that it's Late, if the officer is bored and wants to fuck with me, I am in a vulnerable position.  I'm trying to remember how the laws work.  What's the difference between taking a breathalyzer and not taking one?

All those horrible thoughts took one second.  During the first half of second number two I determined that my lights are NOT ON and I turned them on.

The cop followed me for half a mile before deciding that I am more dumb than drunk and not worth the time.  At some point I check my rear view and the SUV is not there any more.

Was he ever there at all?

Yes.  Yes he was.

I know because I received these texts from Dennis:

1:43am

You sir, are a lucky duck.
One more second, and you
would've seen the blues in
yer rear view!
I prayed for you

I'm assuming you made it home?
....without the blues in the rear view?

I was a moment away from
calling you to yell
LIGHTS!!!

Fall

Adults are not supposed to fall down.

Children fall down.  I remember falling down quite often and always hopping back up.  Head wounds required stitching on two or three separate occasions but I find this to be an acceptable number for the couple decades it took me to learn how to be a human.

Last night I was walking from the gig to my car.  I was not drunk.  My mind was preoccupied with a million thoughts, all sped up on adrenaline from playing rock and roll for the past three hours.  I was getting close to my car and thinking about my questionable parking job and thinking about what I would do if I have been towed and thinking about which band might have played at The Pig that night and thinking about stopping for broccoli bites on the drive home and then I was down.

The main culprit was my own lack of focus but I might argue the pedestrian walkways of Salem, Massachusetts are not exactly level.  The corners of giant slabs of concrete jut out into the path like a miniature mountain range.  My worn out chuck taylors must have clipped an edge and down I went.

Sharp pains ran through my wrist and elbow.  I quickly pulled myself up from the ground, checking to see if any of my parts had broken.  Fortunately, they had not.  From the down the street someone yelled, "Hey buddy, are you alright?" and my heart swelled with the warm joy that only comes from the unsolicited assistance from a stranger, but I was too embarrassed to reply.  I quickly turned and walked away.

This morning I noticed a scrape on my palm as big as two grains of rice next to each other and I put some ointment on it and thought about broken wrists and shattered elbows and the healthcare system and self-employment and the resilience of the human body and how we take our youth for granted.

2016

If I were a gambler I would be willing to gamble that 2016 will prove itself to be "the year we bought a house."

At this point in the process I feel as though I have accidentally waded up to my knees into the infancy of adulthood.

2015

In the year 2015 we went places.

Woodstock, NY for my birthday.

on tour with Mr. Fox we started in Brooklyn, NY.
Raleigh, NC.
Asheville, NC.
Nashville, TN.
Clarksville, TN.
Kentucky
Virginia.
Maryland.

For her birthday we hit Montreal.

Just last week Wilkins drove four hours each way up to the Carrabasset Valley of Maine.  The mountains are beautiful there.