Just a bird in the sky

There’s just too much to say about the trip to New Jersey, and about the fight I almost got into with a couple of women at the bowling alley where I went to see Buckwheat Zydeco. 
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and it was the blur of times, so I will let some of that settle and start with talking about some writing that is wonderful and so full of humor and life, it puts me to shame, but in a good way.
Gus has a friend who spent six weeks in Mexico this summer. He volunteered to work with children on computers and various educational programs.
I’m guessing his mom or dad asked him to keep track, and boy did he. His blog, Cleveland2Cuernavaca is as good as it can get, it’s pure adventure, naiveté, worldliness, and again, laugh out loud moments. I want to share it. I’m proud to know Joey, it takes a lot to do what he has done; to be able to chronicle his adventures in both a poignant and fascinating way.

Turning our way

Fellas and I are going out of town. yes, just them and me.  Posting will be lite, but there will be many a story to tell upon our return.

By the end of the day

When we were walking towards the Grog shop on our way to see FJM, I said to Gus “there he is”. And the immediate response to that was no it isn’t, so I bet him, and I will  soon be collecting $50.00
We introduced ourselves and spoke for a moment. He seemed to be looking for something and I suggested if he was hungry, he might want to try Tommy’s, he said he wasn’t, that he was just looking for a buddy.
As I reflected on my last post, I thought about how I didn’t feel as though I had nailed the notion I was grappling with, and a few days ago, it dawned on me that I’m not very bright sometimes.
Many a buddy is the thing that makes any artist, musician, writer, or any one of us for that matter, a mundane seeker of a fix. No matter what that might be, it’s a search that takes a lot of time and energy and makes it so much more difficult to ever transcend the every day banality of life.
That right there, is what I was sitting, or standing with at the show. That this, a great talent, is a pedestrian, and so very human, which for some reason always takes me by surprise.

Ride around the wreckage

Last night Jake, Gus and I went to see Father John Misty and Youth Lagoon. It was actually supposed to have been just my youngest and me, but he forgot to ask for the night off from work.

Besides for a killer look alike for Sam Elliott, who seemed to work at the bar in some capacity, I was by far the oldest person there.
That made for an awkward situation for me, as I wanted to be up close but found myself in a sea of teenagers. There was no chance of blending in, no matter the internal age I feel that I am, outside there is a fifty year old women standing in a crowd, kind of like a penguin in the midst of a chicken coop.

Only a motion away

As the world turns, so does the clock that keeps buzzing in my ears, or it could be tinnitus.
I guess I decided at some point to be very up front and open about turning 50, I’m owning it. Or actually I bought it on credit and I’ll be paying for it from now on, and after I die, the kids will have to take it on, and maybe even theirs, and so on.
When I started this project, I promised myself that I would be honest, that I would not hide behind the layers of humor or intellectualism and that I would be real. I have often, but have not always managed that.
Today, there is no holding back. My friends, Eamon, his family, the boys, they all brought me more love than I really could ever have imagined. It was like a Sammy Hagar weekend wrapped in a chalupa and deep fried, it was that good.
And then, there was last night/this morning, where that creeping, find something to be sad about virus got the best of me. Not to be too specific, the bottom line is that it’s an old hurt, one that is frankly so legitimate, it kind of sums up why I might actually know that sadness so intimately. I got overlooked and forgotten once again by the ones that should have cared, but don’t. Regardless of all that is well with the world, realizing why the foundation is so shaky, is probably the best most painful gift ever.