There are certain "firsts" in life that we always remember. It starts with our own first steps and proceeds from there. In my generation your first album purchased was a milestone that was not easily forgotten. Not sure what the equivalent would be today, "my first download" perhaps. My first album ever was the original London version of Jesus Christ Superstar, recevied on my Confirmation day, when I was in 6th grade. It sort of didn't count though, because at the time we only had a family stereo and I was not allowed to operate it. So whenever I wanted hear it, I had to ask another family member to spin it for me. How lame.
Billion Dollar Babies: But alas, my snoozing readers ask, what does that have to do with the welcoming, terrifying blog title I have propsed? My "real" first album, that I bought once I had my own stereo, was Alice Cooper's "Billion Dollar Babies". I probably bought it at Korvette's or Two Guys in Jersey for 5 dollars. I recently saw the new vinyl version for $28 in J and R Music World. Wow! Yes I know that doesn't answer the question at hand but read on.
8 Degrees of Perspiration: As those of us who are spiritual, psychic or in trouble with the law know, there are no coinidences in life. As ATT states, we're all connected. Thus is the case with me, Alice Cooper, Linda's Prius and this blog. When I was just a lad, I happened to be at Yankee stadium with my family when who did I spot but the very skinny, seemingly strung out Alice Cooper, hanging out with actor Ron Ely (Superfly). Once this happened I forgot all about the Yankees and high-tailed it over to Alice for an autograph. Luckily we were at a sporting event, so most right-minded fans assumed Alice was homeless, or dressed for Halloween, as he often tends to be. That left a clear path to Alice and I quickly received an autograph, a page away from Meadowlark Lemon (Harlem Globetrotters) and 2 pages away from Eddie Mast (Future NY Knick at that time). I was too nervous to ask if I could pose with Alice for a picture, so I tried to take one of him, but realized I was holding a tuna sandwich in tin foil and not a camera, when I could not find the shutter release. My brother-in-law stated that he was so skinny because he was on heroin.
Linda's Prius: The prius is just amazing and I think Linda really likes it. I call it "Pre" which is a phonetic spelling that is short for Prius and was also the nickname for Steve Prefontaine. Steve was one of the greatest runners of all time, from Villanova, who died so very young in a car accident. It was in the Prius, listening to satellite radio (that will be SSSSOOOOOOOOOOO hard to give up), that I recently heard "Welcome to my Nightmare" by Alice cooper. At first I did not recognize the song and was curious to know what it was, given the great saxaphone and interesting arrangement. When I learned that it was in fact, "Welcome to my Nightmare", it brought me back to 1986. I was working at the Massapequa Park Mobile station, earning extra money and getting ready for our wedding in August. I remember this song and the actual hit from the album "Only Women Bleed", playing on the radio fairly frequently as I pumped gas that summer.
Welcome to My Nightmare: As we were sitting around the "picnick" table this past Friday (has "patio furniture" replaced "picnick table" in the American lexicon, or only so on the left and right coasts?), I brought up the topic of Alice Cooper and was greeted with derisive laughter, and "What does Alice Cooper have to do with anything?" But, alas, as I explained, he was just inducted into the rock and roll Hall of Fame. As I continued to depict to my rapt family members, his biggest hits were probably "Eighteen", a teen angst classic and his first hit, "School's Out", an anti-education anthem and perhaps his most famous, and several songs from the aforementioned "Billion Dollar Babies". From my perspective, Welcome to My Nightmare was an album that Alice created well past his most popular period.
I am hoping, dear readers, that the relationships that I have uncovered between these seemingly disjoined topics have given you continued hope that:
1) A loving, all powerful intelligence does control the universe, or
2) I still have the knack for writing about any meaningless drivel that pops into my mind.
And yes, the impending rites of Spring have caused a stirring in my soul (or is that just the tacos I ate last night), so I must now tend to the tomatoes and basil that sit on my windowsill, straining toward the sun that filters in. At any rate, all of the above give me the surety that we must all.....
Keep The Faith
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Thursday, November 11, 2010
The Impossible Blog
The big question is why? Why has it been 6 months since I last posted a word on this blog. Hmmm, let's find out by examining some valid and not so valid (lame) excuses.
Other Priorites: Yes this is usually the major reason that everyone uses. Work has been crazy. I've been working on the house. I had to get my pet ferret stuffed and while at the drive-through taxidermy shop I was taken hostage. I've spent the past 3 weekends at church praying for divine intervention to pay my mortgage. These are all valid and terrifically boring reasons but none apply. Bottom line it takes less than 30 minutes to create a decent post. That's giving up one episode of the Munsters, Antique Roadshows or The Office.
Apathy: Now we are getting somewhere, delving into the psyche for deeper meanings for the lack of literary output. If I knew the definition of apathy I would expand on this concept, but the bottom line is I don't care.
Still not a good reason, as we all feel the need to bare our souls, regardless of the fact that most people wish we kept them covered. Search on.
Fear: We are certainly getting warmer. Fear of writers block. Fear of having nothing to say. Fear of revealing too much: "Honey I was only kidding, I did not drink a six pack of Guinness on the train ride to work yesterday morning". Fear that people will laugh at what we write. No wait, that's the whole purpose of my blog. Fear that nobody will read it. Bingo! Okay enough self examination, on to more excuses.
Memory Leak: As Steve Martin used to say "Hey, I forgot!" This is not as silly as it sounds. I can honestly say I do go weeks at a time without thinking of blogging. I also go weeks at a time without thinking of taking a shower. Luckily Linda reminds me. If I could only figure out a way to blog in the shower.
Altruism: Yes it is true that I care more about others than myself, except in situations where there is one slice left and I am still hungry. But seriously, the premise of blogging assumes that one writes so that one's friends and family will be obligated, I mean delighted, to read your material. Lack of blogging assures that loved ones are not subject to the often boring, occassionally hideous drivel that may cause them to nap or worse yet jump from a bridge. Great, now I will be up all night wondering if my blog has relieved insomnia or caused a delay on the Williamsburg.
Given that this post is about posting, I think it qualifies as a meta-post. I promise the next post will be more about life, death and enlightenment. And it will be soon. As long as I don't forget.
Keep The Faith
Other Priorites: Yes this is usually the major reason that everyone uses. Work has been crazy. I've been working on the house. I had to get my pet ferret stuffed and while at the drive-through taxidermy shop I was taken hostage. I've spent the past 3 weekends at church praying for divine intervention to pay my mortgage. These are all valid and terrifically boring reasons but none apply. Bottom line it takes less than 30 minutes to create a decent post. That's giving up one episode of the Munsters, Antique Roadshows or The Office.
Apathy: Now we are getting somewhere, delving into the psyche for deeper meanings for the lack of literary output. If I knew the definition of apathy I would expand on this concept, but the bottom line is I don't care.
Still not a good reason, as we all feel the need to bare our souls, regardless of the fact that most people wish we kept them covered. Search on.
Fear: We are certainly getting warmer. Fear of writers block. Fear of having nothing to say. Fear of revealing too much: "Honey I was only kidding, I did not drink a six pack of Guinness on the train ride to work yesterday morning". Fear that people will laugh at what we write. No wait, that's the whole purpose of my blog. Fear that nobody will read it. Bingo! Okay enough self examination, on to more excuses.
Memory Leak: As Steve Martin used to say "Hey, I forgot!" This is not as silly as it sounds. I can honestly say I do go weeks at a time without thinking of blogging. I also go weeks at a time without thinking of taking a shower. Luckily Linda reminds me. If I could only figure out a way to blog in the shower.
Altruism: Yes it is true that I care more about others than myself, except in situations where there is one slice left and I am still hungry. But seriously, the premise of blogging assumes that one writes so that one's friends and family will be obligated, I mean delighted, to read your material. Lack of blogging assures that loved ones are not subject to the often boring, occassionally hideous drivel that may cause them to nap or worse yet jump from a bridge. Great, now I will be up all night wondering if my blog has relieved insomnia or caused a delay on the Williamsburg.
Given that this post is about posting, I think it qualifies as a meta-post. I promise the next post will be more about life, death and enlightenment. And it will be soon. As long as I don't forget.
Keep The Faith
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
How London made us....Brilliant Mate!
Brilliant! Yes that is a very prevalent expression in London, I learned. A bit of hyperbole you may think, but it is sort of like "lovely". It just means "hey that's great", or "good job". I like leaning toward the positive extreme in speech, thought and everything else, so this was one of many things that the UK folks impressed me with. During our stay in Bloomsbury and Russell Square Linda and I were in the thick of things, rubbing elbows with the locals, so we got a good feel for the culture and the mindset. Working a full week with a melange of different nationalities at Nyse Euronext just added to, but did not contradict, what we learned while exploring and vacationing. While every day in our normal life is a lesson, mingling with people in another culture and country is a crash course in fun and discovery. What we learned:
1) Don't worry be Happy: We are way too driven. It is important to be ambitious and disciplined. But we take it to a negative, unhealthy extreme in New York. Come lunch in London the pubs are filled. People are friendly, out on the street, laughing, eating and drinking what they want. At work the meetings are relaxed, lots of jokes, everyone polite and lots of smiles. Nobody dominating, brow-beating or insulting. Cool. For maximum success must we go to such extremes? I think not.
2) No matter no matter what color: Timmy Thomas had a song in 1972 that Sade covered so well that talked about the fact that no matter what color, you are still my brother. That is so out front in the UK. White, Black, Indian, Asian all are hanging together in groups, as couples, whatever. So much different than in my life, than in Massapequa. Although there is much more diversity in the workplace and,in general, I don't believe all races are accepted in the US. I did not get that feel in London.
3) Life is a walk in the park: An amazing, impressive aspect of London is the parks, or "squares". Forget about Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace, both of national landmark status. The local parks are just remarkable. Russell Square, Gordon Square, a park right across from Arran House where Kaila and I played frisbee. Wide expanses of grass and no benches, so we had the park to ourselves. Along the enbankment, Linda and I happened across an amazing square, in front of what looked like a bleeding castle that King Aurthur himself lived in. Amazing flowers, large statues, beautiful grass. We sat on a bench and caught some rays while others lounged on the grass or posed on the statues. No cops, nobody telling us to stay off the grass. Awesome.
4) Most polite and respectful I must say: The 2 weeks that we were in London happened to be bright sunshine and fairly warm. So that means the parks and all other outdoor venues were packed. Linda and I spent at least 3 days where we walked all over. Not once did we see an altercation, people playing loud radios, or people acting disorderly. On the tube I did not witness anyone being harassed, bothered or having their privacy violated. Did they know the nosy Americans were coming, thus hiding all of their derelicts, homeless and criminals safely away? BTW compared to the subways the tube was very clean and much quieter.
5) Be yourself, you're lovely: Perhaps it was my imagaination, but undividualism is very noticable. Strange dress, business people dressing and acting much more relaxed and infromal. Plus everyone is just so affected by the historic and amazing musical past of London (or was it just me?) Just go to Camden Markets and check out the punks (many our age or older), and the omnipresent legends like The Beatles, The Clash, The Sex Pistols, The Smiths, Bob Marley, The Jam, The Rolling Stones. And Music is heard everywhere from Reggae to Soul to Punk to New Wave.
6) Watch your step: I believe the cabbies are worse than in New York. There was at least one time each for Linda and I where we thought we were going to be hit. Cars come from both ways, and don't forget about the bike and roller blading convoys. They travel in packs of 50 or more, and you don't want to cross into their lane as they will run you over.
Final Truth: Life in London is incredible just as in any culturally rich, thriving city. Can't wait to get back there. Hey Linda, what year will the grandkids be studying abroad?
Almost time for the Rites of Basil. Stay tuned and...
Keep the Faith y'all.
1) Don't worry be Happy: We are way too driven. It is important to be ambitious and disciplined. But we take it to a negative, unhealthy extreme in New York. Come lunch in London the pubs are filled. People are friendly, out on the street, laughing, eating and drinking what they want. At work the meetings are relaxed, lots of jokes, everyone polite and lots of smiles. Nobody dominating, brow-beating or insulting. Cool. For maximum success must we go to such extremes? I think not.
2) No matter no matter what color: Timmy Thomas had a song in 1972 that Sade covered so well that talked about the fact that no matter what color, you are still my brother. That is so out front in the UK. White, Black, Indian, Asian all are hanging together in groups, as couples, whatever. So much different than in my life, than in Massapequa. Although there is much more diversity in the workplace and,in general, I don't believe all races are accepted in the US. I did not get that feel in London.
3) Life is a walk in the park: An amazing, impressive aspect of London is the parks, or "squares". Forget about Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace, both of national landmark status. The local parks are just remarkable. Russell Square, Gordon Square, a park right across from Arran House where Kaila and I played frisbee. Wide expanses of grass and no benches, so we had the park to ourselves. Along the enbankment, Linda and I happened across an amazing square, in front of what looked like a bleeding castle that King Aurthur himself lived in. Amazing flowers, large statues, beautiful grass. We sat on a bench and caught some rays while others lounged on the grass or posed on the statues. No cops, nobody telling us to stay off the grass. Awesome.
4) Most polite and respectful I must say: The 2 weeks that we were in London happened to be bright sunshine and fairly warm. So that means the parks and all other outdoor venues were packed. Linda and I spent at least 3 days where we walked all over. Not once did we see an altercation, people playing loud radios, or people acting disorderly. On the tube I did not witness anyone being harassed, bothered or having their privacy violated. Did they know the nosy Americans were coming, thus hiding all of their derelicts, homeless and criminals safely away? BTW compared to the subways the tube was very clean and much quieter.
5) Be yourself, you're lovely: Perhaps it was my imagaination, but undividualism is very noticable. Strange dress, business people dressing and acting much more relaxed and infromal. Plus everyone is just so affected by the historic and amazing musical past of London (or was it just me?) Just go to Camden Markets and check out the punks (many our age or older), and the omnipresent legends like The Beatles, The Clash, The Sex Pistols, The Smiths, Bob Marley, The Jam, The Rolling Stones. And Music is heard everywhere from Reggae to Soul to Punk to New Wave.
6) Watch your step: I believe the cabbies are worse than in New York. There was at least one time each for Linda and I where we thought we were going to be hit. Cars come from both ways, and don't forget about the bike and roller blading convoys. They travel in packs of 50 or more, and you don't want to cross into their lane as they will run you over.
Final Truth: Life in London is incredible just as in any culturally rich, thriving city. Can't wait to get back there. Hey Linda, what year will the grandkids be studying abroad?
Almost time for the Rites of Basil. Stay tuned and...
Keep the Faith y'all.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
London's Burning!
The Clash song stated that "London's burning with boredome now". I am sure that, at the time, those lyrics had relevance and truly reflected the political and social climate that many Londoners were living in. But the London that we experienced the past two weeks was simply glorious, vibrant, fascinating and just darn fun. Although London was not burning, the Icelandic volcano was, so our visit was extended an extra week. Much as a person's life or a broadway play is separated into sections based on time and theme, our London visit was neatly divided into 4 distinct acts, which I shall now describe and analyze for my rapt audience of ...hmmm, perhaps for myself.
Arrival at the Thames: Linda and I arrived in Canary Wharf with a flourish. After taking the tube, several willing locals proceeded to give us wildly innacurate directions, turning our 10 minute walk to "The Curve" Marriot Hotel into a 30 minute Odyssey. The many foot bridges crossing the Thames were quite fun, the wind gusts reaching a strength sufficient to take small children and my Yankees hat into the upper atmosphere. Learned that doing business in London consists mostly of saying "brilliant", "right", "well done" and wearing pink shirts.
Pilgrimmage to Bloomsbury: Work done, on to the vacation, as we check into the Euston Hilton. We got to hang with K and hit the pubs, ah the Guinness! After a few days of perfect weather and more pubs we realize every pub has the same menu and....ah the Guinness! A great restaurant in Angel, some Italian on Goodge street with Kaila and Alan and, wait, what was that sound? I think an Icelandic volcano just erupted!
Old Home Week at the Arran House: Volcanic ash is coming ,you are being held hostage by Mother Nature in a foreign country, and you can't go home. What to do? Go to the Arran House of course!
The Bed and Breakfast is a staple of the Roti family and friends: Kaila, Kristin (twice), Casey and we (twice) have stayed for a righteous price (85 pounds for a double, which usually turns out to be a triple or a quadruple). Full (overfull) English breakfast, about 10 communal bathrooms for the adventurous (no en suite for you!), in a location near it all. Like staying at your Aunt's house.
All Rise, the Roti's have arrived at Hotel Russell: So all of England is daft, and those in power have closed the airports. Which means I am commuting by tube from Arran House to Canary Wharf. Right, a bit of a walk to the tube eh? Linda walked me to the tube that morning, across from beautiful Russell Square and the historic Hotel Russell. "Wouldn't it be nice to stay here?" Linda inquired, and before I knew it we were booked at the Russell for 20 pounds below the standard price, in an upgraded room with a view of the park and breakfast included. How ever does Linda do it? A week of pink shirts for me, heavenly weather, palacial accomodations in the cultural hub, what could be better? The insightful CEO of Brittish Air on Sky News suggests that the airlines all going bankrupt is a bad thing, and the next day the airspace is opened. Right, brilliant. Bittersweet. Goodbye Hotel Russell, goodbye London, goodbye Kaila, see you soon Kris.
Wow that was fun. So what did Linda and I learn from our 2 week adventure? Next post.
Keep the Faith
Arrival at the Thames: Linda and I arrived in Canary Wharf with a flourish. After taking the tube, several willing locals proceeded to give us wildly innacurate directions, turning our 10 minute walk to "The Curve" Marriot Hotel into a 30 minute Odyssey. The many foot bridges crossing the Thames were quite fun, the wind gusts reaching a strength sufficient to take small children and my Yankees hat into the upper atmosphere. Learned that doing business in London consists mostly of saying "brilliant", "right", "well done" and wearing pink shirts.
Pilgrimmage to Bloomsbury: Work done, on to the vacation, as we check into the Euston Hilton. We got to hang with K and hit the pubs, ah the Guinness! After a few days of perfect weather and more pubs we realize every pub has the same menu and....ah the Guinness! A great restaurant in Angel, some Italian on Goodge street with Kaila and Alan and, wait, what was that sound? I think an Icelandic volcano just erupted!
Old Home Week at the Arran House: Volcanic ash is coming ,you are being held hostage by Mother Nature in a foreign country, and you can't go home. What to do? Go to the Arran House of course!
The Bed and Breakfast is a staple of the Roti family and friends: Kaila, Kristin (twice), Casey and we (twice) have stayed for a righteous price (85 pounds for a double, which usually turns out to be a triple or a quadruple). Full (overfull) English breakfast, about 10 communal bathrooms for the adventurous (no en suite for you!), in a location near it all. Like staying at your Aunt's house.
All Rise, the Roti's have arrived at Hotel Russell: So all of England is daft, and those in power have closed the airports. Which means I am commuting by tube from Arran House to Canary Wharf. Right, a bit of a walk to the tube eh? Linda walked me to the tube that morning, across from beautiful Russell Square and the historic Hotel Russell. "Wouldn't it be nice to stay here?" Linda inquired, and before I knew it we were booked at the Russell for 20 pounds below the standard price, in an upgraded room with a view of the park and breakfast included. How ever does Linda do it? A week of pink shirts for me, heavenly weather, palacial accomodations in the cultural hub, what could be better? The insightful CEO of Brittish Air on Sky News suggests that the airlines all going bankrupt is a bad thing, and the next day the airspace is opened. Right, brilliant. Bittersweet. Goodbye Hotel Russell, goodbye London, goodbye Kaila, see you soon Kris.
Wow that was fun. So what did Linda and I learn from our 2 week adventure? Next post.
Keep the Faith
Saturday, March 27, 2010
The Beach
The beach is a place where a man can feel
He's the only soul in the world that's real. - Pete Townshend
Wow, we went to the beach on Sunday and it was worth it. Despite having 2 lifetimes worth of stuff to do on Sunday, Linda and I decided to go, given the awesome weather. It was a glorious event, we walked for over an hour, and found some categories of shells that I have never seen in person or prison, on Nature, or in my dreams. There are many aspects of the beach that make it essential, and of course we will analyze them now ad nauseum.
The Air: 'Tis a bit more windy at the beach, and the briny air fills your lungs and makes you feel alive. The whole experience heightens your awareness and relaxes you, therefore I think we breathe more easlily.
The Water: Yes our most ancient ancestors millions of years ago swam out of the sea and put their fins on terra firma and the rest is history. Oops sorry creationists. Perhaps this is why we have such an instinctive connection to water in general, and learn things from it like Siddhartha.
The Sound: Oh the sound of waves crashing on the beach, and kids far away screaming as they are engulfed, dragged out and die. The rhythm, somehow tied to the moon (not Keith, well maybe in Quadrophenia it was ), I am sure connects with our own internal rhythm and soothes, hypnotizes, and teaches us lessons from eons ago.
The Sand: The feeling of warm sand on your feet is one of those feelings that defies description. Running on the beach barefoot feels so natural, and running at the base of the water seems to electrify your cardio system and give you energy.
The Smell: The smell of the salt air permeates one's senses, and I can smell the mustard on that brat's third hot dog. "Mom I wanted Dr. Pepper, not Coke. Take it back!" Smack!
Here by the sea and sand
Nothing ever goes as planned. - Pete Townshend
As a teenager where else could you sleep all night and not get bothered? The beach.
As a kid growing up in New Jersey, "The Shore" was pretty much the only place we went on vacation.
And now, we are so lucky to live just 15 minutes away.
In conclusion I will say that as a teenager, everything seemed possible in life, while listening to the waves crash on the shore. Now that I am about halfway done (50 years old), I can say that life makes more sense, and the past seems kinder, and the future brighter "at the beach".
Some nights I still sleep on the beach
Remember when stars were in reach. -Pete Townshend
Keep the Faith y'all !
He's the only soul in the world that's real. - Pete Townshend
Wow, we went to the beach on Sunday and it was worth it. Despite having 2 lifetimes worth of stuff to do on Sunday, Linda and I decided to go, given the awesome weather. It was a glorious event, we walked for over an hour, and found some categories of shells that I have never seen in person or prison, on Nature, or in my dreams. There are many aspects of the beach that make it essential, and of course we will analyze them now ad nauseum.
The Air: 'Tis a bit more windy at the beach, and the briny air fills your lungs and makes you feel alive. The whole experience heightens your awareness and relaxes you, therefore I think we breathe more easlily.
The Water: Yes our most ancient ancestors millions of years ago swam out of the sea and put their fins on terra firma and the rest is history. Oops sorry creationists. Perhaps this is why we have such an instinctive connection to water in general, and learn things from it like Siddhartha.
The Sound: Oh the sound of waves crashing on the beach, and kids far away screaming as they are engulfed, dragged out and die. The rhythm, somehow tied to the moon (not Keith, well maybe in Quadrophenia it was ), I am sure connects with our own internal rhythm and soothes, hypnotizes, and teaches us lessons from eons ago.
The Sand: The feeling of warm sand on your feet is one of those feelings that defies description. Running on the beach barefoot feels so natural, and running at the base of the water seems to electrify your cardio system and give you energy.
The Smell: The smell of the salt air permeates one's senses, and I can smell the mustard on that brat's third hot dog. "Mom I wanted Dr. Pepper, not Coke. Take it back!" Smack!
Here by the sea and sand
Nothing ever goes as planned. - Pete Townshend
As a teenager where else could you sleep all night and not get bothered? The beach.
As a kid growing up in New Jersey, "The Shore" was pretty much the only place we went on vacation.
And now, we are so lucky to live just 15 minutes away.
In conclusion I will say that as a teenager, everything seemed possible in life, while listening to the waves crash on the shore. Now that I am about halfway done (50 years old), I can say that life makes more sense, and the past seems kinder, and the future brighter "at the beach".
Some nights I still sleep on the beach
Remember when stars were in reach. -Pete Townshend
Keep the Faith y'all !
Friday, March 5, 2010
Spring Where are You?
Please don't fret New Yorkers, it won't be long now. The snow and freezing conditions will soon give way to warmer weather and rain and mud. Don't you feel better now? Seriously this has been a trying winter, but this time of year is exciting. Why? Because it is filled with promise and expectation. Spring literally signifies life in terms of the growing season, and for me mentally, it is also a new beginning. Although the calendar starts in January, life as we know it begins with Spring. We start to venture out of our house with regularity, encounter neighbors who ignore us, and realize that in fact there's a lot more seeding to be done than we had hoped.
So in honor of Stravinsky's "le Sacre du Printemps" I present "The Rites of Spring":
1) Biking: It all starts here with abbreviated rides that still prove to me that I am out of shape. I will miss Al, who still needs some fixing, but I have my new young JeeP mountain bike, who likes to be addressed as "JP".
2) Cleaning the garage: Hard to believe how much stuff can accumulate over the winter, but a good Spring cleaning heals all wounds and provides "gumption" leading to many other tasks that cause severe thirst necessitating a cold beer while sitting on your open truck bed door.
3) Cleaning the shed: Yes this is an annual favorite, providing yet more gumption and the knowledge that various animals have been living in very same shed.
4) Lawn Seeding: this is actually an Olympic event in certain Westchester suburbs, but only for illegal aliens, usually of Mexican descent. Ah yes, did I not say that Spring represents "hope", in the expectation of a luxurious carpet of grass, which during that first seeding seems like such a sure bet. Our hopes are fulfilled as the green blades emerge, only to be dashed by that damn landscaper who won't stop trimming until he hits paydirt.
5) The Beach: As a kid growing up so far from "the Shore" the ocean has always represented life, magic and hope for me. Of course since we now live 10 minutes away, we never go. This is one of the rites I will not compromise on, as Linda and I will be headed to the ocean at the first sign of 55 degrees.
Could this possibly be the total list, my avid readership asks, is something not amiss? Of course with spring the cycle of life and knowledge begins again. My appenticeship begins anew, and I empty my cup, becoming the clean slate upon which my Basil teachers will write their lessons. It is a dilemma, this hibernation that occurs with the latter seasons. I have forgotten so much that they had taught me, but by their absence they have forced me to live and learn on my own.
Hopefully by this post finds you all ready to welcome Spring and all of the surprises, challenges, mystery and wonder that this season of life will bring. One morning soon I will awake to the sound of that bird just outside my bedroom window and I will know that Spring has sprung.
Keep the Faith!
So in honor of Stravinsky's "le Sacre du Printemps" I present "The Rites of Spring":
1) Biking: It all starts here with abbreviated rides that still prove to me that I am out of shape. I will miss Al, who still needs some fixing, but I have my new young JeeP mountain bike, who likes to be addressed as "JP".
2) Cleaning the garage: Hard to believe how much stuff can accumulate over the winter, but a good Spring cleaning heals all wounds and provides "gumption" leading to many other tasks that cause severe thirst necessitating a cold beer while sitting on your open truck bed door.
3) Cleaning the shed: Yes this is an annual favorite, providing yet more gumption and the knowledge that various animals have been living in very same shed.
4) Lawn Seeding: this is actually an Olympic event in certain Westchester suburbs, but only for illegal aliens, usually of Mexican descent. Ah yes, did I not say that Spring represents "hope", in the expectation of a luxurious carpet of grass, which during that first seeding seems like such a sure bet. Our hopes are fulfilled as the green blades emerge, only to be dashed by that damn landscaper who won't stop trimming until he hits paydirt.
5) The Beach: As a kid growing up so far from "the Shore" the ocean has always represented life, magic and hope for me. Of course since we now live 10 minutes away, we never go. This is one of the rites I will not compromise on, as Linda and I will be headed to the ocean at the first sign of 55 degrees.
Could this possibly be the total list, my avid readership asks, is something not amiss? Of course with spring the cycle of life and knowledge begins again. My appenticeship begins anew, and I empty my cup, becoming the clean slate upon which my Basil teachers will write their lessons. It is a dilemma, this hibernation that occurs with the latter seasons. I have forgotten so much that they had taught me, but by their absence they have forced me to live and learn on my own.
Hopefully by this post finds you all ready to welcome Spring and all of the surprises, challenges, mystery and wonder that this season of life will bring. One morning soon I will awake to the sound of that bird just outside my bedroom window and I will know that Spring has sprung.
Keep the Faith!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Schizophrenic? I'm a bleeding Quadrophenic!
Yes that silly quote is from the Quadrophenia album by The Who. The main character of this "Rock Opera" was Jimmy, who at different times personified 4 different personalities, each associated with one of the band members of The Who. As Kristin and Kaila are currently in London, I thought it relevant to mention this amazing story of a young lad in 1960's London who is torn between being a Mod and a Rocker, and whose life is complicated by alcohol and drugs (leapers), difficulty with the opposite sex, parents who both drink and fight too much, and seeing his hero sell out to "the establishment". An incredible work of songwriting and music, the movie version starring Sting as the leader of the Mod's is an incredible period piece. Timeless, as they say, the general story being just as relevant today, and told hundreds of times in various forms. Enough rot about the bloody UK! You allright?
You are your Ipod: Can one really learn all there is to know about you simply by discerning what mp3 player you use? OK, yes if you are still using a Walkman, be it tape or CD, we know you are either a refugee from a culture that uses time machines or live in a third world nation. But otherwise, whether it is Zune, Iriver or Ipod, really your total personality does sit on the other end of those earbuds. For example I am using the Ipod shuffle that Kris gave me a few years ago and it is so me. I never have a clue what song is next, the music is of all different types, and occassionally a song comes on that I have never heard. What mystery and chaos. Oh boy is that my life! Linda will readily admit that I am very disorganized, proceed in random directions, do not have a specific plan for the next moment, no less my life, and often seem totally surprised by things that have been occurring in my life for decades. What music machine do you use, and does it represent your psyche?
To 10cc with Love: We watched the classic movie "To Sir with Love" the other night and it was awesome. I have seen it 5 times at least but this time with no commerials! I am going for the record today of most exclamation points used in a blog! There's another one! and another! aaaagggggghhhhh. Whew, punctuation gets me riled up. Ayway if I were to change my saintly habits and wind up in hell, I think that's what it would be, endless commercials. Back to the movie, yes it was awesome but the amzing thing is that at the end during the party where Lulu (the singer not Norton's dog) sings to Sidney Portier, there is a band of mod looking Brittish guys. They sounded familiar so of course I went to Wikipedia. They were "The Mindbenders" and they had 2 very big hits with "Game of Love" and "Groovy Kind of Love". BTW what's with the UK theme, oh yeah Kay and Kris are in London, forgot. You allright? Anyway Eric Stewart was one of the original Mindbenders and Graham Gouldman joined in 1968 or so. They later teamed up with Lol Creme and Kevin Godley to form 10cc, a fairly major band of my youth. Yes we, they and you are all connected.
The Dimensions: Yes time, space and our minds and souls connect us all. This helps in a few ways. No matter how low or high anyone feels, they are never alone. Never. And two, whenever we need help or want to collaborate in a creative or spiritual way, we can reach out across several different dimensions to friends, family, loved ones (alive or dead), forest animals (alive or roadkill), former teachers, janitors, reptiles, insects, origami instructors and unemployed talk show hosts. If you can find the answer you're looking for from this diverse group, it doesn't exist.
Truthful Rex: Rex Ryan, the coach of the Jets is my hero. He is upbeat, honest, loyal, emotional and funny. Other than the fact that he is rather obese, I want to be just like him. Should the Jets win tomorrow, he becomes The King of New York. Go Jets!
New Year?: For how long can I continue to greet people with Happy New Year!? If I am seeing a friend or co-worker for the first time since Jan. 1, I have been using that slogan. When does it become too late? By the upturned eyebrows I am seeing from my readership, I would say it's time to stop. Glad I asked as I had marked June 1 on my calendar.
Happy New Year! and Keep the Faith!
You are your Ipod: Can one really learn all there is to know about you simply by discerning what mp3 player you use? OK, yes if you are still using a Walkman, be it tape or CD, we know you are either a refugee from a culture that uses time machines or live in a third world nation. But otherwise, whether it is Zune, Iriver or Ipod, really your total personality does sit on the other end of those earbuds. For example I am using the Ipod shuffle that Kris gave me a few years ago and it is so me. I never have a clue what song is next, the music is of all different types, and occassionally a song comes on that I have never heard. What mystery and chaos. Oh boy is that my life! Linda will readily admit that I am very disorganized, proceed in random directions, do not have a specific plan for the next moment, no less my life, and often seem totally surprised by things that have been occurring in my life for decades. What music machine do you use, and does it represent your psyche?
To 10cc with Love: We watched the classic movie "To Sir with Love" the other night and it was awesome. I have seen it 5 times at least but this time with no commerials! I am going for the record today of most exclamation points used in a blog! There's another one! and another! aaaagggggghhhhh. Whew, punctuation gets me riled up. Ayway if I were to change my saintly habits and wind up in hell, I think that's what it would be, endless commercials. Back to the movie, yes it was awesome but the amzing thing is that at the end during the party where Lulu (the singer not Norton's dog) sings to Sidney Portier, there is a band of mod looking Brittish guys. They sounded familiar so of course I went to Wikipedia. They were "The Mindbenders" and they had 2 very big hits with "Game of Love" and "Groovy Kind of Love". BTW what's with the UK theme, oh yeah Kay and Kris are in London, forgot. You allright? Anyway Eric Stewart was one of the original Mindbenders and Graham Gouldman joined in 1968 or so. They later teamed up with Lol Creme and Kevin Godley to form 10cc, a fairly major band of my youth. Yes we, they and you are all connected.
The Dimensions: Yes time, space and our minds and souls connect us all. This helps in a few ways. No matter how low or high anyone feels, they are never alone. Never. And two, whenever we need help or want to collaborate in a creative or spiritual way, we can reach out across several different dimensions to friends, family, loved ones (alive or dead), forest animals (alive or roadkill), former teachers, janitors, reptiles, insects, origami instructors and unemployed talk show hosts. If you can find the answer you're looking for from this diverse group, it doesn't exist.
Truthful Rex: Rex Ryan, the coach of the Jets is my hero. He is upbeat, honest, loyal, emotional and funny. Other than the fact that he is rather obese, I want to be just like him. Should the Jets win tomorrow, he becomes The King of New York. Go Jets!
New Year?: For how long can I continue to greet people with Happy New Year!? If I am seeing a friend or co-worker for the first time since Jan. 1, I have been using that slogan. When does it become too late? By the upturned eyebrows I am seeing from my readership, I would say it's time to stop. Glad I asked as I had marked June 1 on my calendar.
Happy New Year! and Keep the Faith!
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