The Meaning of Life (Draft 3)

to me The Meaning of Life is not
a single thing
to me, so far, it is a List
of Things That Seem Important:

-Self-Discovery / Acceptance
-Charity
-Awareness of Mortality
-Perception vs. Reality
-Karma / Connectedness 
-Fluidity / Change
-Environment / Earth / Universe
-Family
-The Creator / Why Are We Here ?
-Thumbs
-What Happens When We Die ?

28 Laps

I hope I've learned during these twenty eight laps around the Sun.

It started with my parents and still does.  I've never doubted their Love for a single second of my Life, and I realize this is an important facet of my existence.

My brother has challenged me constantly.  I'm lucky for that.

I never thought my old lady existed:  a kindred spirit to co-pilot the ethos.  A feeling so wonderful that I occasionally question if I deserve it.

I don't deserve any of this.  I've had twenty eight years free from any legitimate suffering.  I understand it's not sustainable and I try to use this temporary peace to prepare myself to travel the rest of the journey with dignity and patience.

I hope that God reads this post and she smiles and offers me another twenty eight laps.

things I think I know about Love

The opposite of Love is not Hate it is Apathy

Love should hire a lawyer
and sue Hollywood for defamation of character
Love is less powerful than Time but not by much
Love is puke and shit and bloody pieces of gauze
Love does not consider well laid plans
Love may not recognize you back someday
John Lennon said
Love is all you need
but he doesn't know me
sometimes I think I need more
but I do not
Jerry Seinfeld said
"You don't do what's right
You do what makes the other person feel good...
and the first step to that is lying"
Love is a web of lies
Love yourself first

Love tries to stay awake until you get home
You create your own definition of Love
which is nice until you realize so does everyone else
Unconditional Love is beautiful when you witness it happening
Love is for Everyone
Love is fleeting and cheers
to everyone lucky enough to enjoy some time with it
Love is not nearly as fun in hindsight
I hate to admit that chocolate and flowers are both quite lovely
and midwinter seems as nice a time as any to love Love
commerce be damned
this morning it seemed important to document 

things I think I know about Love

Classic Rock Radio Programming

On a long drive home after a raucous gig
I called The NightRocker to make a request
The man on the other end seemed genuinely disappointed
which helped, a little
"Aw man, we don't have any Big Star in the library"
I should have said something snarky, like
"You should check it out, I'll mail you some"
instead I froze and stammered out a request for Toys In the Attic
------
my go to station has recently changed their playist by adding
Soundgarden 101, Basic Pearl Jam, and Too Much Guns & Roses
this time My Michelle, the laziest of their originals
better than their lazy covers
if only an iPod were in the budget
if only my CD player weren't broken
during the self-loathing the harmonies of Sweet Emotion had begun
and I got even more frustrated
had I not requested the specific song, not the hit from that album?
-------
my Dad had taught me to play Name That Tune on this station
naming the band got you bonus points, the album even more so
-------
Back in the Saddle.
by the time Dude Looks Like A Lady comes on
I leave it on, as penance for even trying
-------
if I drive in silence I hear phantom pains from my car
and freak out!
--------
I believe in a kamikaze spin around the radio dial
there have times that aural gold has been struck in this fashion
I will spare you the deepest thoughts that followed
about planets and molecules
and fast forward to when Toys In The Attic came on
when everything clicked and buzzed in tandem
and the music drove me home

Rainbow Color Coating

I park in the auxiliary gravel lot and along the path into the school there has been a pile

some sort of rainbow colored candy

one day we noticed that months have passed

yet the candy remains untouched

the World and Nature herself rejecting free food

he told me that growing up his mother would throw every piece of stale food outside for the birds and animals

and that this same phenomenon occurred with Fruit Loops

---------------

I've noticed that some of the most powerful forces at work on this journey of Life have been Love, Hunger, Time (in that order)

Can I Use Your W.C. Please?

a fringe benefit of the new pad
within walking distance on nice days
The Gloucester Writers Center. In their words,

The Gloucester Writers Center is a place for working writers in a working town. We are devoted to the exploration, development and celebration of our diverse voices through dialogue and the artistic process.

Snow cancelled our weekly meeting today
I decided to post my favorites
from the last three months, what an idea!
it inevitably depressed my soul
being happy with two sad limericks
from the last three months of material

------------
There once was a boy named Joe
He did not know where to go
He followed the sound
But when it was found
He found that he still did not know
------------
There once was a violin
I can't find where to begin
Plucked on the strings
But all that it brings
Is a feeling that I'll never win

Deodor:can't

I do not remember how old I was
when I started to smell bad
probably twelve or thirteen
since then I've rocked the OLD SPICE
classic style, original scent

and for over a decade I never considered the ingredients
or my lymph nodes

(according to wikipedia)

Lymph node is an oval-shaped organ of the lymphatic system, distributed widely throughout the body including the armpit and stomach... as filters or traps for foreign particles and are important in the proper functioning of the immune system...

the ingredients on my current stick include:

Alcohol Denat.
Propylene Glycol
Water
Sodium Stearate
Fragrance
Triclosan
Tetrasodium Edta
Yellow 10
Green 5

I don't know what most of those chemicals are
(what does Denat. stand for?)
why would I rub and smear them into my lymph nodes
every day

The Man Who Invented Food Pills

I got a call from the city.  Dan the Mailman had landed me an early birthday present, an interview, and was rambling furiously. 

"The Doctor, he's got to be in his seventies, maybe eighties, and he's been delivering the mail for years, the past eight years I've worked there at least" he sputtered, virtually out of breath in his enthusiasm.  I told him I was skeptical. 

"That's nothing.  I haven't even gotten to the good part.  The Doctor is perfectly healthy and yet he hasn't eaten food in years.  The Doctor is the man who invented Food Pills." 

--------

It was a long drive from the coast to the city and I had questions.  Flaws in the story.  I am cynical on most days.  When I arrived Dan was ready to answer the first question on my mind, before I even asked it.

"You're wondering how come The News isn't all over this.  The Doctor will probably tell us his story today because he doesn't know you're going to write about it.  Don't mention your blog.  Don't mention anything.  Try not to talk at all."

I told Dan that I get it and thanked him again for setting up the meet.   

"I told the Doctor you are giving up a failed career at music and applying for a steady job at the post office."

"Why?"

"Because details are important in a good lie"  

---------

"Stomach problems.  I couldn't eat hardly anything anyways"

The Doctor's explanation as to Why he didn't want to eat food anymore actually made more sense than I expected it to.  My questions had all nearly been answered so I tried to bait him.  "I love to cook.  It's cathartic.  You don't like to cook, Doctor?"

"My wife & I used to cook the most delicious meals together, nearly every night.  After she died, it just wasn't...." his voice trailed off.  I felt like an ass for asking for him that.

"Then I found Science" the Doctor said smiling.  His eyes lifted and brightened.  "We all know what you need: protein, vitamin C, calcium... I don't want to bore you with lists.  My compounds are laid out in detail in my journals.  The brass tax of it all is that I don't eat anything but my food pills anymore, since about the time your friend Dan started on.  He didn't believe me then, and I don't think he does now." 

Dan smiled.  "I'm gaining interest.  Tell him the best part." 

"The best part is that my stomach problems are gone..." the Doctor began to answer, but Dan interrupted him, "Don't hold back now Doc" 

"Shit.  I haven't the need to defecate anymore.  In years.  My pills are perfectly designed that my body absorbs the exact amounts of each element.  For years the formulas have been adjusted, to maintain this wonderful and unexpected side effect."

I was puzzled.  "You haven't eaten any food, or taken a shit, in years?" 

"That's right."  His answer was calm and seemed genuine.  "Your next question about mass marketing Food Pills is unnecessary because I have no interest in the work it would take to custom tailor the pills for each individual client.  In fact, I've grown bored of the subject altogether, but I am willing to assume my vintage Martin guitar will pique your interest?" 

The Doctor again, was correct.

--------------

On the ride home Dan broke a long silence, "I won't be as extreme about it as the Doctor is.  We can still go out for dinner on weekends with the girls, or whatever.  On occasion."

Sammy's Law

Sammy is a funky drummer and wonderful human who got himself into some trouble and then out of it and then past it, thankfully never losing any funkiness along the way.  Sam recently offered me this nugget of advice,

"Do not break more than one law at a time" 

Cell Phone Poems

Dec 14, 2013

Thought about quitting those mean cigarettes
As my ashes fell whiter than the snow
Piling up faster than my regrets
Nowhere to go but up, nowhere to go

Wondered which was purer the ash or snow
That got me on the great Robert Frost
His dark cold words always make me glow
Though I don't doubt the true meaning is lost

---------------------------------

Dec 28, 2013

Pregnant bartender loves this disco band
Dancefloor grandma swaying, can't hardly stand
Found myself drinking beers with the band wives
Tonight is the highlight of their bland lives

2014

Twenty Thirteen, instead of looking back
lets gaze ahead to paths with uncut tracks
May the next year bring us the things years bring
happiness and joy, pain and suffering
if you promise to keep the hungry fed
if you resolve to eat less white bread
maybe you will vow not to change at all
maybe this year I will finally grow tall

Humbug

I dug into the word 'humbug' 

and recommend you do as well

abridged version: English slang from the 1750's  

the word Humbug refers to a person or item that tricks, deceives, talks, or behaves in a way that is deceptive, dishonest, false, or insincere, often a hoax or in jest

2013 Translation: Bullshit!

Which I found fitting as
Christmas is pissing me off this year

We're going to purchase a baby potted pine, decorate it for the season, nurture it during the winter, and plant it in the Spring.  

I see a house decked to the gills in lights and think about electricity
flashing colors that dim the stars

Christmas is making fudge with my mom,
drinking heavily with my grandfather, father & brother
heard my uncle is flying in this year  

Eulogy For An Imperial Stormtrooper

Thank you all for coming.  Some members of the mainstream media might characterize Steve as a "bad guy" because of his affiliation with the Galactic Empire, but your very presence proves them wrong. 

There are many ways to describe Steve: a son loyal to his mother, a husband forever faithful to his wife, a loving father of two young children, and one of the best damn Stormtroopers the Empire has ever seen. 

We were in high school, just kids really, when Steve was first promoted and received his uniform.  Not many high school seniors would have the courage to wear it as proudly as he did, white helmet and all.

Steve used to brag that his laser gun skills were the best in the galaxy.  He was offered promotions and management opportunities, but he would chuckle that he didn't want to sit behind a desk.  

Steve died in the line of duty, probably the way he would have chosen. His family and friends, we will always remember him as a hero. 

Ten Year Reunion

"Remember when is the lowest form of conversation"

That quote from Tony Soprano is quite visceral and a little too harsh.  

but here I am, Ten years removed from high school
which I'm finding to be quite visceral and a little too harsh

I grew up in Georgetown 

and went to high school 18 miles down the road 

at a catholic joint called Bishop Fenwick

You know what... 

the backstory does not matter

this is about Now

Nostalgia will not pay my rent!

I'm working the Saturday after Thanksgiving

with a hot band 

a job I'd like to keep for a while

therefore I cannot attend the reunion

$22 per person is a little steep anyways! 

I offered to help plan something cool months ago 

the result was a royal cluster:

-people with jobs want to get dangerously drunk on a weekend evening

-people with children want to picnic on a weekday morning or early afternoon

I might get cheap thrills gawking at the ghosts of christmas past

but I'd rather rock out.  

if you knew me in high school this should not be a surprise.

How to Grow A Beard2: Grow Up, Please

there have been unsolicited genuine compliments about the beard
which seems necessary to growth
akin to watering a new plant

growing Down alright
I wish she would grow Up

there are chunks on each cheek
more or less symmetric

I can imagine them Filled In
with beard

it has been one month into the Journey
I'm going to hang until Thanksgiving
as a mandatory minimum
for the ration of beardrelatedshittalk from my extended family will surely

"put hair on your chest and fire in your belly"

as King Henry once said
hopefully in this instance
the hair in question
will grow on my face

The Nightly Grind

My father's morning alarm has gone off at 5a for as long as I can remember

*flashback*

We were young, but old enough to pick up on his pattern

that as he transitioned from the couch to bed for the night

he would first stop in the kitchen
and grind the coffee beans for the morning.

We were young but old enough to determine this to be a sign of Weakness

and we would heckle from the living room,

"Uh oh, Dad's grinding the beans"

"Bedtime for Dad"

"Feeling sleepy Dad?"

"Goodnight Dad"

---------------------

last week I started a new gig
helping to teach strings at Rockport Elementary School
it's not 5a but it's an early start nonetheless

and as I prepared for my first morning I blasted the coffee grinder

and instantly felt horrible
my beautiful old lady sleeping peacefully down the hall

that evening before bed I was grinding the beans for the next morning
and damned The Circle for spinning round and round

Capo2: Got A Good Reason For Taking the Easy Way Out

"If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools"

Recap:

Capos weren't sitting well with me.
I decided to write about it
and ask The World
to help expand my mind.

The World chimed in with interesting points of view.
I conceded some outdated ideas
and rearranged my thoughts:

-Capos are cool if you understand how it works
-Capos are cool if you're injured
-I maintain that capos are NOT cool if you're being lazy
(because I have Faith that You can play barre chords)

I was feeling good about the experiment as a whole
until a second wave of militant capo users arrived
name calling and putting words in my mouth:

"are you against open tunings too?"

"Capos won't hold you back, speaking in absolutes and being close minded will"

"it's a hobby, not a pissing contest"

"why would you make a vocalist jump through hoops because of...your dad's hickish dismissal"

"what's lame is basically saying that they're not worthy to play music or express themselves through music"

"You don't have to be technically amazing to play, or enjoy playing, or to have your music appreciated by others"


I didn't feel Elitist or Close-Minded.  still don't.
just the opposite in fact
(although I admit the fact they perceived this is my fault and not theirs)

I simply want to empower lazy beginners to get over the hump
where most fledging guitarists quit
or slap on a capo
the plastic dam that forever closes the waters of musical knowledge

I hope they take the Time to read my finished posts
and truly understand the point of this exercise
but they're capo users,
so they probably won't, right?

Anti-Capo Manifesto

My father didn't have very many strict or steadfast Rules.

-Only A's and B's on report cards.
-No drugs in the house.
-Bassists should not use a pick.
-Guitarists should not use a capo.

I asked him to expound on the capo for the blog:

As a guitar student in the late 1960’s, I had to have one. Most of the folk rock artists that I liked were using them...I figured out quickly that the pretty boy folk rock guys only knew three or four chords and used the capo to fake their way thru any key. Instead of learning all the chords, they could get by with a few. I listened to their “different voicing” and “tonal qualities” points of view. It seemed like cheating to me. 

Now, when I see a guitarist using a capo
the first thought that comes to mind is,

"This cat can't hack it"

and I know that Life is not so extreme
direct from plastic to negative judgmental emotions
there must be something I'm missing

so I asked the Great White Noise
and the Pro-Capo crowd responded
some of which were clear, concise
and counterargument worthy

"For one of meager natural skill and even less talent, I can use all the help I can get"

Counterargument: Doc, when you're practicing with a capo on you're not practicing the guitar you're practicing the guitar-with-a-capo-on

"Capos are more for the benefit of vocalists than guitarists.  Bring out the best in your front person by any means necessary."

Counterargument: If you give a front person a fish they will eat for a day...

"as long as it's thought of as a style choice, just like drop tunings, it changes the sound of the instrument"

Counterargument: None!

In summation, capo users beware
I am judging you
and I may feel compelled to question you on:

1) how your capo achieves a tone/sound/style that cannot be achieved by a capoless instrument

2) if you can accurately convey what Key Signature a capoless instrument may accompany you

"Capos are for fascists and Jimmy Buffet"

"The Predictable Circle" or "Rest In Peace, Aunt Peg"

in my car, waiting for The Captain to be arraigned

when the radio threw out some interesting stats

regarding the opposing team's pitcher under a certain circumstance:

4 days rest, after throwing 115+ pitches the previous outing

the numbers were not good, so I texted them to my brother, an avid gambler.

next, mom called that my great aunt had passed away.

then, I remembered my brother and his wife were learning the gender of their baby this morning.

and a fist was shaken at Life
for being so predictable
(the whole "circle" thing)

i texted my brother that the smart money was on a baby girl.
now.
that the situation had changed.

later, The Captain did not get arraigned
but did get Another Date
for later.

later than that, my brother texted that I should have laid real money on both of my hunches.

Zero Tolerance for Zero Tolerance Policies

Here are the alleged facts of the story of 17 year old Erin Cox:

-Drunk friend calls Erin for a ride home from a party

-Erin (sober) drives to party to find police already there

-She is not arrested but told she will be "summoned to court"

-School officials cite Erin to be in violation of the Zero Tolerance policy regarding alcohol

-Erin is suspended from the volleyball team


I wonder why the police would officially summon her

I wonder how the story ended up in the national news

I applaud the young lady for getting her story out there

I applaud the school for sticking by their policy (whether I agree with it our not) and not giving in to the social pressure of the story being out there


Zero Tolerance Policies are ridiculous because no two situations are exactly the same

and you, beautiful Reader, will want to remember when dealing with these two specific entities:

North Andover Police: NO DESIGNATED DRIVERS ALLOWED
North Andover High School: NO DESIGNATED DRIVERS ALLOWED

Banana Bread: revised

Mom's Banana Bread Recipe

(revised by Chef Joe
for reasons that are not political nor related to ethics)

2 and 1/2 cups wheat flour
1 cup brown sugar
3 and 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons vegetable oil
1/3 cup almond milk
1 egg
2 bananas

mix together

bake at 350 for 65-70 min

How to Grow A Beard

Step 1: Don't Shave

I understand the process will eventually command more nuance than this...

(and I hope to share this with you, dearest Reader)

in the past I have failed:  The Fear sinks in and the need to hide my face sinks in and a quick run home yields a fresh razor.  To erase the neglect...

but NOT THIS TIME!  I'm latching onto the "Red Sox playoff beard" fad, as to elude as much social judgement for as long as possible...

once the baseball runs it's course hopefully this baby beard will have sprouted little wings on my cheeks and blossomed into a lush bush of masculinity.

hopefully.

"Annual Physical Exam" or "Rest In Peace, Dr. Smith"

my faith in Medicine is at an all time low

but driving past Dr. Smith's office I noticed a large FOR SALE sign

and imagined the Doc 'moving on up'
perhaps to a bigger pad
(this one was cluttered to a point that scared my old lady)

Patty the receptionist answered the phone and I asked how the end of the week looked. mornings were preferable.

Patty's voice trembled, "I'm sorry but Dr. Smith passed away this June"

June.  months ago.

I remembered his concern over a spot of cancer on his forehead but when I mentioned this Patty quickly dismissed the notion, offering no details in return.  I remembered the details didn't matter anyways.

"Mistah Kurtz-he dead."

I thanked Patty for her years of dedicated work, she mentioned something about forms.  I answered enthusiastically knowing damn well I would not follow through.  I hung up.

then the darkest part of my brain spit out this gem:

"Well, he musn't have been a very good doctor after all"

which is still funny
but isn't true at all.

he was a good doctor, the only one who has ever made me feel comfortable.  I'm not in a rush to find another.

Aunt Courtney's Apple Tree

We pulled up to Courtney's house and parked under the tree

my old lady remarked that she could eat one of the fruit

although the pile under the tree was not appetizing

sure enough towards the top, they looked plump and inviting

-----

upon returning from the liquor store I parked under the tree

Brian said, "these apples are a pain in the ass"

-----

I was dressed for Alice's wedding, setting up the car for extra passengers

Casper hobbled down the driveway

he was old but told me that I looked like a businessman right off the bat, and won me over

he wanted the unwanted fruit from the tree, but wanted permission from the homeowner. I took down his information.

-----

back inside the homeowner had a hearty chuckle. She had met Casper and granted permission already.

Brian very literally tore up Casper's information that I had written down.

Casper had told them that those apples were in fact pears.

-----

the next morning we were hungover and my old lady went outside to have a pear for breakfast.  the rest of the group was not impressed but I was and took a bite.

the fruit was tolerable but needed something more.

-----

on the drive home my old lady said "If there was a pear tree in our yard we wouldn't ever buy fruit again"

we rapped for quite some time on pear jelly, pear pies, pear liquors, and other pear things I cannot now recall

Inheritance

I have inherited many wonderful things from my Mom

long flowing locks are up the top of the list
looking at the Danvers High 1975 yearbook one would give my Dad partial credit in this department
Scientists might chalk the mop up to my grandparents (and Science)
but anyone who has seen my mom & I standing next to each other knows where my hair comes from

better than the 'fro though,

is the magical effect that the 1975 album "Fleetwood Mac" has

once it reaches a certain volume

it creates a Zen like trance

by the time the A side is ready to be flipped the house is brighter and cleaner
fresh bedsheets that smell of lavender
clean dishes drying on the rack beside the sink

the need to play the record while cleaning
(the need to clean while the record plays)
feels genetic

Trashy Thoughts

it wasn't until moving to Gloucester that I became Aware of my trash

because the city's trash program is that they only collect bags the residents purchase

which seemed weird and communist, at first

something like five dollars per purple bag
which probably held the same 20-30 gallon your standard black trash bag holds

(Editor's Note: $2 for a 33 gallon bag)

we soon realize the city also has a recycling program

now all the items that qualify are staying out of the purple monster

instead, kicking into the recycling bin

we recently considered creating a compost pile and created a third bin for food trash

and I realized that on average:

a third of our trash can be recycled
and a third of our trash can be compost

Food Is Good

We took the "Salem Food Tours" this afternoon

*disclaimer for journalistic integrity* my old lady's brother's wife's sister runs it (well)

underlined are highly recommended restaurants,
also worth noting:

-Chef Tony at 62 taught us that ravioli is plural and raviolo is singular

-Comida gets the Terminator award (i'll be back)  

-Life Alive had an alarming combination of Meatlessness and Deliciousness

-locally sourced, all natural ingredients are oh-so-tasty

-Chef Mike at Brodie's Seaport made a perfectly seared scallop

and every that time happens an angel gets it's wings. 

Shep Abbott: Art & Space

One of the earliest musical performances my old lady & I had together was in Gloucester

(a lifetime ago)

Open Mic at ARTSPACE 

a lifetime later we ran into Shep and made the connection 

and now we jive whenever we cross paths.

I recently realized the weird street signs on the island were his

and that they were being stolen,

regularly...

------

Hi Shep - I've been thinking about your signs and the people that steal them, and a comment that you made that "it's part of the process" and I'm wondering if you want to comment on that further (for my blog)? Thanks - Joe!

-----

Joe, thanks for your interest. I'm not sure what happens to the signs. It may be malicious destruction. It may be flattering theft. It may be "official" removal by Public Works. Whatever it is, I'm surprised no one contacts me since my email is always on the sign. I'm interested in "public art" because it seems to have a visceral, human impact. I once hung a giant 30' fishing net up high in swamp maples in Dogtown with the phrase "Dream of Love" knitted into it with brightly colored ribbons. It was very beautiful. When the afternoon sun hit it way up in the trees, it was like a giant spider's web with this simple message, Dream of Love which was a real dream I had once. Well, someone went to a great deal of trouble to climb up, rip it down and take it away. A man called me to say he thought it was a "cult". I don't know who it was. I put up a yellow street sign near the Willowrest restaurant not long ago. The sign read "Slow Geezers", kind of a joke on "Slow Children" signs and what with Boomers and all. Just a joke. I even wrote on the back of the sign, "Painted by a Geezer" because, as a matter of fact, I will be 70 on Saturday. Nevertheless, it was torn down, perhaps by an irate Geezer. I really like public art; I think it's great to put stuff in public that is completely unexpected and, hopefully, fun. I'm not interested in making any "political statement" or pissing anyone off. But, let's face it, life can get pretty, well, predictable these days. So, to me, I kind of see the outside, public world as a kind of "museum" where, instead of folks having to decide to come to see your work somewhere, well, it just suddenly shows up! And it's a total mystery as to how the Hell it got there and what the Hell it means and who the Hell would go to the trouble to do that? It just makes life a little less predictable, even if you don't like it and decide to rip it down. A lot of other people get a kick out of it before it disappears. And then, if people like it, it doesn't take a lot of effort to make another sign (although, to be honest, the signs are pretty well done). [You can reprint this if you like.]

for Henry (ARod Answers)

Joe,

Give me your opinion on the A Rod doping scandal please.

Love

Henry

---------------------------

Henry

Baseball and cheating go together like hot dogs and mustard.

Off the top of my head, here are some of Baseball's easily-googled scandals throughout history:

-Shoeless Joe Jackson and Chicago White Sox (Editor's Note: 1919) (Editor's Note part 2: Field of Dreams) 

-Pete Rose in the 80s

-Cocaine in the 80s

-Speed / Uppers / "Greenies"

-even spitballs and doctoring the ball is a part of the game. some people thought our guy was dousing his hair with extra gel and smearing that on the ball as recently as a couple months back. 

besides the history of rampant cheating I believe that athletes ultimately destroy their bodies to play anyways (the same way we will destroy our hearing as musicians) 

A-Rod has sucked for a while now.  I think some professional athletes take steroids and still suck. 

Realizing baseball players take steroids was like realizing WWF was fake.  I was young at the time.  It bummed me out for a while.  back then.   

How is the purity of cricket?

Joe

Batmanalysis (and Baseball)

you cannot quantify art.

but I believe the Batman franchise to be a Powerful Force in cinematic history

we were trying to hash it out and having a difficult time the last time one of these was on the ole TV

so later a chart was contrived for my own benefit, to look at all the information at once

it was lying there today, a near victim of a hurricane houseclean

this post is a two fold solution, to digitally capture it's glory so the original can be destroyed, and to share it with You.

TITLE - DIRECTOR - BATMAN - LEADING LADY - VILLIAN - BUDGET/BOX - RATIO

Batman - Burton - Keaton - Basinger - Nicholson - 48M / 411M - 8.56
Returns - Burton - Keaton - Phiffer - Devito - 80M / 266M - 3.33
Forever - Schumaker - Kilmer - Kidman - Lee Jones/Carey - 100M / 336M  - 3.36
And Robin - Schumaker - Clooney - Thurman/Silverstone - Arnold - 140M / 238M - 1.7
Begins - Nolan - Bale - Holmes - Neeson/Murphy - 150M / 374M - 2.49
Dark Knight - Nolan - Bale - Gyllenhaal - Ledger/Eckhart - 185M / 1004 M - 5.42
Rises - Nolan - Bale - Hathaway - Hardy - 250M / 1084M - 4.35

The ratio number is Box / Budget aka if I invest one clam how many clams do I get back

I'm not posting any conclusions
only gathered information
the analysis is all your own
because you cannot quantify art

*p.s. this applies to baseball too.  the Statistical Revolution and tendencies and averages are Interesting and So Cool but at the end of the day it's a Human holding a ball trying to hurl it past another Human who is holding a chunk of wood and they're both probably on steroids but that's ok because Tens of Thousands of other Humans are watching which changes Everything and this is pretty much Art too so none of that research matters buddy sorry about those man hours you put into that and Thanks for the pretty numbers

Steal You Flowers

at least a week I've been gone

smell like booze and worse

got a feeling you're still mad

about the money I took from your purse

-

patching up the holes i made 

is going to take us hours

I'm not coming home empty handed

I'm going to steal you flowers

-

The lady down the way will give me daisies

She likes the way you sing and knows I'm lazy

And old man up the road, I know where his roses grow

I can get three or four, if I sneak up slow
-

ain't the first time I've done wrong

ain't gonna be the last

your sister said mister pack your bags

but you keep taking me back

-

ain't got no more money

ain't got super powers

but I know better than to come home empty handed

I'm going to steal you flowers 

The Battle of Rowley, Part 2: Criteria

the control in the experiment will be my selection: small strawberry

which will allow us to measure:

1) cost
2) quantity
3) quality of ingredients
4) customer service

something was missing

the magical whimsy of ice cream
time travel through tastebuds, instant innocence (instant Summer)
certainly worth measuring for this experiment

my old lady recommended we bring a Young Child with us 

gauge their response

I dig the idea
that one of our controls
would be a variable

anti-science.

------------------

worth noting that within all these intricate plans
are weekly trips to White Farms

Reduction2

"Treat others as you want to be treated" - Mom

I love this quote because it is Flawless.

and if you threw every aspect of every religion into a big pot

and let it boil
for days

this quote is all that would be left.

An Uninvited Visitor

Rowley, MA was not happy that I referred to it as "not that Cool"
so it spit us an uninvited visitor this weekend

1230a is technically Sunday morning but to us it was very much Saturday night
another split squad day, separate gigs
and by this time we were both Home,
unwinding and recounting the day's journeys behind us

thus our house was lit up, probably the only house on the street
maybe the only house for miles
which is why he chose us.

a timid knock on the door and drunken mumbling.

we share a puzzled stare but i'm in underoos and race for pants
by the time I open the door the knocker has gone.
I don't look around very hard.

we talk inside.
doesn't fit the m.o. of the old man next door or his son (who is also an old man)

after a short period of time (Editor's Estimate: 1-3 minutes) a voice through an open window

"I'm sorry to startle you, I need help, can I use your phone?"

My old lady jumps and says, "Whaaaaaaaa"

I open the door and there's a pretty tall guy with a shaved head and tattooed arms.

"I was with my friends and we had an argument and I walked off like a jerk and now I have no idea where I am can I use your phone?"

and he says other things like "I know it was silly" and "I'm sorry to bother you" over and again
and I can tell he's trying to be calm but I can also tell what people strung out on drugs look like.

I hand him my flip phone and he fiddles with his wallet for a while, and pulls out a business card for Viking Taxi.

He asks the Viking how much a ship from Here to There will be and then shakes his head, "no no no, that's no good."

I retrieve my phone and he asks how to get to the convenience store.  It's literally left on the road.  LEFT.  That's it.  He doesn't really get it though and wonders if I have a smart phone, so that he can see a map.  Visualize it, he says.

Then he asks if I had a phone book.
but it gets Weirder.

next he says he's heard that Rowley dogs will pick you up for walking.

he pulls out a crisp $20 and asks if I can drive him to the previously mentioned convenience store.

but my Old Lady is listening intently, right inside the door and comes out with a big "Noooooooooooo" and a crisp "ope" on the end
shoos him away like he was a stray dog.
She did not say "Git" or "Go on now" but she might as well have.

I like helping people but you can't just shout into stranger's windows demanding smartphones and phone books and assistance evading police. I'm only down with real Action like that on rare occasions, with people I trust.

The Moral of the story is that everything I write on this blog will eventually be Wrong and that's O.K.

with a submoral that
Rowley, MA: you are pretty Cool

The Battle of Rowley, Part 1: Backstory

Rowley, MA is not that Cool of a town

(but the Price was right, so was the Location)

Good Luck if you want Anything in Rowley after 9p
you are not able to acquire it here. Every store has closed.

but if you are Antiquing or in need of Breakfast:
Welcome to Rowley!

the best fringe benefit of our new pad was ice cream

fairly priced, large portions of homemade bliss: WHITE FARMS

we have done the Ice Cream Test already, right when we moved in

for Fun 

to introduce the old lady to my childhood stomping grounds

and to advocate for the devil

because we knew White Farms would destroy the competition 

and they did. 

a few years and dozens of perfect ice creams later,

at least 3 spots have opened recently: 

-Peachwave on Route 1 northbound

-Down River on Route 1 southbound

-fairly certain there is another ice cream spot opening in the Pizza Factory plaza

and a second round of testing feels inevitable

only this time the process will be documented.  I will pretend to have journalistic integrity and ask the managers to comment on my experiment, if they believe their product will hold up.  "Good Afternoon, I demand to speak to your manager immediately, I'm from the Joeyjives blog and need just a moment to have sensitive questions answered..."  

or maybe I'll do it secretly, cop the phantom gourmet's bit...

coming soon maybe:

Part 2: Criteria

Part 3: Testing

Part 4: Analysis

Part 5: Inevitably returning to White Farms and regretting the time away

Time Perception and the Zamboni

There were at least a couple times in my life where I have been legitimately interested in a hockey game

and the intermissions while the ice was cleaned seemed to take forever.

Forever.

Recently, when the local hockey teams championship run infringed on a weekly musical performance, the venue and band compromised: to not perform during game action, and to fill the intermissions with song. 

We would begin as soon as the period ended, and we would stop as they approached the face off circle to begin the next one.  We played as much as possible,

and the time flew by.

Flew.

Moral: maybe Time Perception is more psychology than neuroscience (?)

If I Die In Rowley (at least I will die free)

Two in the morning

headed home from the gig

where Route 133 crosses Old Route 1

and the lights are ON
at the Rowley Psychic
$10 Special

and this idea buries itself in my brain
there's no spirit in particular I'd want to conjur at the moment
but why are the lights on right now?

even though the car is still physically headed towards home
I can't stop considering how much fun it would be to even try
BUT by the time I decide go for it, I'm way too close to home, passing the flea market

although the real action won't begin until sunrise
I see few scramblers setting up shop under floodlights
and wrangling them up seems like a Fun idea too

post gig adrenaline. the psychic. the flea market. What would Hunter Thompson do?  Ride the second wind for the sake of Journalism?  Go home and pour a drink and fabricate the story?

if I go to the flea market right now at least $20 of the $100 earned tonight will be used on some Thing, just to write about the guy I bought it from, and the haggling process.  I do not need this Thing.

******

the tires screech in a U-Turn and I push in the cigarette lighter, one of the few remaining perks in this old truck.  Not smoking is not an option before a two am meeting with a psychic in Rowley.

I rap on the door and she answers in yellow woolen robe.  it is cleaner than I would have expected if I'd known she was going to answer the door in a robe.

"Seriously?"

Her question is intense but her face expressionless.  She looks tired, but not because of the hour.

"Good Morning Ma'am.  I must talk to the ghost of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.  Immediately.  I'm hoping you'll honor the $10 Special advertised in the window?"

It was a long time before she answered me.  She spoke matter of factly, after first letting out a long sigh.

"The Good Doctor killed himself.  It seems like you know that already.  His spirit is in perpetual torment.  You may not want to hear what he has to say."

******

"Twenty dollars?"

Neither of us are buying his faux-outrage, I only wonder why his accent seems so Southern.  We are in Massachusetts.  There was a  R where I expected an H.  It sort of dragged, then caught the S on the way by.  Dollarrrsssss.

The sun would be coming up soon.  Going over budget was Not an option.  Not after the Instructions we had received.

"Aw shucks man, your girl really wants it, plus I paid at least FIFTY for that. I can't let it go for at less that that, right?"

His voice bobbed like a damn frog, making the question seem as though he was addressing a child.

Ro-ight?

"Jimbo, lets get one thing straight she's not my Girl.  My old lady is at home asleep not far from here, but I'd never tell you in which direction.  This woman is my personal Psychic, and from tonight on will be a salaried member of my Team.  We are on a mission concerning the Spirit World.  We MUST purchase this vinyl Eat A Peach, we must listen to all 33 minutes of Mountain Jam, and although you are welcome to join us, we MUST pay you TWENTY dollars. These terms are from the Doctor himself and completely out of our hands."

She pulled the yellow bath robe up around her neck, and shivered it bit, then turned to the man behind the table.  "Jimbo, did your Ma wear glasses?"  Her accent suddenly seemed slower and Southern too.

His aluminum can hit the ground and beer splashed everywhere for a moment, then slowly started pouring onto the dirt.  He made no attempt to pick it up.

The Meaning of Life (draft 2)

Facets That Seem Important (to me, so far) In Determining the Meaning of Life:

condensed: from Draft 1, composed Sept 2012
and a Jan 2012 posted entitled Spoiler Alert

-Self-Discovery / Acceptance
-Charity
-Awareness of Mortality
-Perception vs. Reality
-Karma / Connectedness
-Environment / Earth / Universe
-Family
-The Creator
-Thumbs

I moved The Creator a little further down the list from last time, but don't think She will take offense

I want to add FLUIDITY: if you zoom in to look at the smallest of smallest particles, they're zooming around AND if you zoom out to look at the biggest of biggest planets and systems, they're zooming around too.  That leads me to believe that nothing is stagnant.  Ch-ch-changes, so to speak...

I also want to add these:

-No one knows why we're here
-No one knows what happens when we die

That's pretty rad.  Billions and billions of cats throughout the history of the world and not one can answer either of those two question.  That seems important.

If You've Got Them: An Open Letter to The Cigarette Companies

The best thing that developed out of a failed surgery one year ago

is that I was instructed to stop smoking for 2 weeks prior to surgery and 2 weeks post

one year has passed and I have not smoked a single cigarette

which inspired me to write this:

*****

Dear The Cigarette Companies,

 I haven't smoked a cigarette in one year.

 If they were less expensive that probably wouldn't be true.

Love,
Joe

Knowledge is Infinite

Recently I can't shake the idea

that every piece of NEW information or knowledge

comes with an EXPONENTIAL amount of information or knowledge that I don't yet understand

my analogy for this situation is that of a map of a level in a video game:

the map is dark except the square you are on and a few squares around you.  as you advance, your character moves one square at a time but the map is illuminated ten squares at a time, and you begin to see all your different options.

and you'll never hit them all
because this particular map goes on infinitely

A Shouted Conversation With the Youth of Gloucester Concerning the Earth

It was Saturday night, half past midnight. (Editor's Note: It was Sunday morning)  The city was jammed earlier in the evening when we loaded in, so the truck was parked down at the Harbor Loop.  Retrieving the vehicle was a nice walk after a nice gig.  Until...

We came up on the loop and there was a truck full of youths. I could see the driver and the passenger in the back seat on the drivers side, who promptly dropped an empty junk food bag out of the window.

The driver yelled at us, "Do you know where to get bait?"

I was semi-disgusted by the littering and began to walk away when the driver yelled for a second time, "HEY, do you know where to get BAIT?"

and I yelled back "You shouldn't litter"

and the passenger in the back seat on the drivers side said, "What are you gonna do, write me a ticket?"

and I yelled back "You shouldn't litter"

and the passenger in the back seat on the drivers side said, "Fuck you"

and I said, "Fuck me? You're the one who littered..."

and they drove off, continuing to abuse the Earth, I assume.

Comparing Historical Family Medical Diagnosis

One of the better things we've learned about each other in eighteen months of marriage

is that when we were growing up

upon smelling a fart in the room

my Dad would say, 

"if you're sick, go to the Hospital..." 

and 20 miles away 

her Mom would say,

"that means you're Healthy..."

My View of Bruce Tobey's View

A hotel is coming to Gloucester.

The Pro-Hotel people (henceforth "The Greedheads") have been in a fierce battle with the Anti-Hotel people (henceforth "The Hippies")

Bruce Tobey (former mayor, current City Council) wrote an open letter, posted in the Gloucester Times.  The reaction by the hippies via social media is what caught my attention.

(Worth Noting: I'm torn on the issue. A big ugly hotel would be big and ugly.  That said, whenever my in-laws come to town they have to crash at their daughters' house.)

Mr. Tobey, your so-called View is a steaming pile of bullshit.

Our chief financial officer has prepared a conservative estimate of the annual revenue stream that will flow to the City when the hotel is up and running. Real estate tax payments, meals tax receipts, and room tax revenues will generate more than $750,000 per year for our local government.

Are you going to stand by this theoretical 750k when the actual figures are tallied?  Your quote has a nice way of pre-empting any possible blame to your Chief Financial Officer.  Well played.

The city is about to embark on a multi-million dollar reconstruction of the water and sewer systems that serve the Fort. Construction of the hotel will generate the payment to the city of many of those dollars, some from the developer and others from a state economic development grant prompted by the hotel’s construction. 

Your city is about to embark on a multi-million dollar sewer system reconstruction project that is supposed to be paid for by a hotel that doesn't exist yet?

The hotel’s business plan has clearly demonstrated that its operation will create 150 jobs for a city with an unemployment rate higher than the state average.

Two fair points, but they are not connected.  You cannot guaruntee these 150 jobs will go to Gloucester residents.  Can you?

A well-established team has come forward with a concrete plan to create a building and a business that would enhance any community, and it has been identified by other entrepreneurs as a lynchpin to their efforts to launch us into a bright new biosciences-based economic future. That future will be jeopardized by continued opposition.

 If your team is as well-established as you describe, why would they back down in the face of opposition?  If they can't stand the heat in the kitchen perhaps their plan is not as concrete as you think.

 In summation: The Hippies said that your rallying of the masses to angrily confront them was an indirect attack on their First Amendment rights, and they wanted to sue you.  I told them to tear apart your half-assed letter instead.  They didn't, so I did.

Knights of Rock

Adapted from an idea The Mailman had and gave me permission to adapt. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

On May 1st, 2013 the city of London was attacked. By large dragons.

Buildings were destroyed and many people died, including Kate Middleton, Prince Harry, Gordon Ramsay, Simon Cowell, and David Beckham. David Beckham definitely died. 

The following day we learned that small dragons had been attacking the countryside of England, killing civilians. This story was not as widely reported. 

still Prince William had no choice, he had to call upon the only people who could save his countrymen and hopefully his job too: 

The Knights of Rock

-Sir Elton John

-Sir Paul McCartney

-Sir Mick Jagger

P: Listen up chaps

E: How come you're in charge?

M: Keith killed a dragon once

E: Mick the adults are talking now why don't you go into the other room and practice your dance moves

P: Thanks Elton. I'm in charge because Prince William said so before that dragon ate him. 

E:  Where do you think these dragons are coming from? 

P:  Romania.

E:  Great that's really helpful. Wait... how do you know that?

P:  Harry Potter.

E: (sighs) Now I know why Bowie refused...

Ian:  Sorry I'm late! 

E:  Sir Ian McKellan!  Thank God you're here and also wearing your Gandalf robes.

I:  Mick, shape up and use your giant lips to breathe fire back AT the dragons.  Paul, get ready for battle, grab your Wings.  Elton, come with me... 

coming soon maybe...Knights of Rock Part 2: A Plea to David Bowie

An Open Letter to Mr. Pittella: Why Did We Watch Braveheart in 6th Grade?

Mr. Pittella

 Braveheart came on the cable tv recently

 rewatching movies these days I pull up the laptop.  who directed this film?  what was the budget to box office ratio?  any quirky production or casting facts?

 and what I came across for Braveheart is this: 

 one of the most historically inaccurate movies of all time

 The dichotomy of this fact vs. my introduction to the film being in your sixth grade class was not lost on me, and the first question my mind asked itself was, What would Mr. Pittella say about all this fifteen years later?

 Why did we watch Braveheart in your class?

---------------------------------

 The other thing I remember about sixth grade was a kickball game against Mr. Nodelman's class. 

 We gambled in the currency of middle school:  the losing class would have to buy the winning class pizza, and lots of it. 

 Pittella, you had us in lines doing jumping jacks outside their windows while they were studying. I remember.

 we got weird, we psyched them out and we won. 

 we won bad and we ate their pizza.

 Did Nodelman make his kids pay or did he ante up himself?*

 The moral of the story is that you can't facilitate sixth graders gambling on a kickball game in America anymore. I'm glad we grew up in a different world and had that opportunity.

*I asked two friends from Nodelman's class:  

The Dancer couldn't remember and she said "he hated me cause i called him mr. noodlebutt" 

The Mailman said "I don't remember paying but I can't imagine Nodelman putting up the cash. I think you could say we had to pay." 

An Undercover Police Officer At Georgetown High School: 10 Years Later (v2 submitted to the Georgetown Record)

Dear GHS Class of 2003,

Do you remember ten years ago, when there was an undercover police officer at Georgetown High School?

It was a secret operation that only three people knew about, the Superintendent, the Chief of Police and the undercover officer herself. One math teacher was quoted after the busts went down, devastated because he had thought she was the best math student he ever had.

The mission was for the officer infiltrate the school as a "student" and to determine which students were selling drugs. 

The definition of entrapment is:

The act of government agents or officials that induces a person to commit a crime he or she is not previously disposed to commit.

This is why I can't shake the dirty feeling, ten years later. The officer wasn't offered drugs by these children, she searched them out.  She ended up with small amounts of marijuana and pills.  Even that wasn't easy to scrape that up.  That was months of work. On our dime (rather, our parents).  

Yet I remember 6-10 kids being expelled. The Administration wrote letters to schools in the surrounding area recommending they don't take them in. Someone decided denying their education was surely the best way to help these kids.

I wonder why no prominent lawyers stepped in to protect them, or at least push the issue, ask some questions of the police and school about their motives. 

I assume they have all been better off without a High School that would hire the police for a secret mission to entrap them.  

I wonder if they will be invited to their 10 Year Reunion this summer and I wonder if they will be in the mood for attending.