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LiveJournal for State Of Love And Trust.....
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| Thursday, May 8th, 2008 |
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midnight club dancing to British indie rock in Seoul, meeting random Canadians who don't suck ass like most Canadians and Americans overseas, me and the Stone Roses partied like it was NINETEEN-EIGHTY-NINE...Madchester was truly united that night. Many Korean DJs are fucking terrible, but this guy at Go-Go's kept it alive with eclectic awareness and a deft musical knowledge. its almost like he knew exactly what i was feeling in the moment. by the time he faded Depeche Mode into Joy Division..that was it. "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and all that beautiful mess... we stayed there until 5:30 am... probably one of the few scarce nights i was glad to be to back in Hangguk-land. its all over for my Korean visa on May 28th. thats when this shitty gov't is kicking me out. fuck 'em. **************************************** Finally bought a plane ticket to Texas, tumultuous last month in South Korea, listening to Annie Hardy sing on this record is like Dinosaur Jr. on sugar pills... a sweet saccharine rush. warm wet distortion washed over electric aplomb fuzz and her voice.... a meow guitar solo at the end... kinda makes me wanna just say screw it and take the plunge in the Sea of Japan. i need to get wet first.... |
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| Monday, April 21st, 2008 |
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Bikini Kill lyrics, Japanese slang, airline tickets to Texas, i don't know if i can hang on anymore. i got too much sugar in my system right now due to Denmark drinking yoghurt Strawberry. my DJ set last night at a roof-top party ended in disaster with the stereotypical near-fistfight in the crowd. is it too much to ask people not to fuck up the party vibe? This was the final gig for Kimchi Ice Cream since Richard is leaving for Dubai. Our ill-fated duo met with problems at every show we performed in Bundang-gu. Its like we were cursed or something. We even got fired from our local DJing gig @ Samsung Plaza. i guess spinning Broken Social Scene and David Bowie are not popular with the drinking crowd here..... .... my mind is doing its late-night fidgeting again with Le Tigre Deceptacon dance beats, magic realism novels, and the sorry state of Pan-Latin Americanism today. i need to get my shit together with my TEFL course and other assorted affairs that need to be put in order. Been thinking about returning to my beloved Brooklyn for the annual Mermaid Parade @ Coney Island this summer. Almost moved there last year into some art loft if only Christina had managed to talk me into it...but i was so wasted after that weird-ass hipster party in Williamsburg that i couldn't think straight...dancing among the drug-addled scenesters in an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn...i stuck to drinking Stella Artois..nothing up my nose for me thanx or my arm either for that matter...plus i was too wired from that killer Sonic Youth show @ McCarren Pool earlier that day....sold-out show got in due to another fan re-selling me his extra...best natural high ever...Thurston Moore slayed the shit out of that guitar!....The Slits opened up for them. Yael Korat and i were bouncing around like group-home kids hopped up on Adderall.... ...i'll probably shave my hair into that faux-mohawk that my favorite Japanadian Jason has been rocking all fucking year with my Int'l PJ Glory Crew. we are assembling at MSG for the big throwdown in June....NYC i have missed you but i hate those bums from the Bronx...GO SOX!! |
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| Monday, March 31st, 2008 |
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things are not progressing so well. i am highly dubious as to my finances post-May, and i only have so much left in me to enact damage control due to visa woes.... is nothing ever easy? i think i am starting to be done with this country.... realizing that this is so...has become a painful stone to swallow. i am looking at a costly airline ticket for U.S. re-entry in June at this point. possible Puerto Rican side of the family reunion in Texas in June. never been there before. then its the proposed PJ tour with the Int'l Army. followed by job hunting in between days. anxious nights and indifferent mindsets towards my misfortune await me. but. as for right now. i can choose to say no to this bullshit situation. out of the frying pan into the fucking fire. no way in hell i am moving back to Connecticut anytime soon. guess i will have to figure everything out along the way just like every fucking thing that has happened to me in the last couple of years. this one is for the traveling poets and dreamers alike stifled by everyone and everything: "Trouble... Oh trouble, set me free I have seen your face And it's too much for me today Trouble... Oh trouble, can't you see? You're beating my heart away And there's nothing much left of me I've drunk your wine You have made your world mine So won't you be fair Oh won't you be fair I want no more of you So won't you be kind to me And let me go there I have to go there Trouble... Oh trouble move away I have seen your face And it's too much for me today Trouble... Oh trouble, can't you see? You have made me a wreck Now won't you leave me in my misery I've seen your eyes And i have seen death's disguise Oh hangin' on me Oh hangin' on me I'm beat and torn I'm shattered and lost and worn Too shocking to see Too shocking to see Trouble... Oh trouble, please be kind I don't wanna fight And i haven't got a lot of time" - c. stevens |
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| Friday, March 21st, 2008 |
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so. this Korean adventure is coming to a close after all. after repeated snags in my contract renewal attempts i am tempted to say fuck it. The Land of the Morning Calm always seemed to serve as just a stepping-stone to another destination. My fatalistic view on these matters steadily approaches. perhaps this will finally be the catalyst for my long-awaited sojourn to The Land of the Rising Sun... i am a vagabond...faded passport photos and no national allegiances. Visa laws be damned. I will make my way into that country by my third decade even if i have to swear an oath under my thigh with a blade drawn. For i have been waylaid too long...tired of kimchi and kibun....i miss people not places...and i will miss my friends here but soon, they too will be cast on the wind. this path has always been a solo one long since before i can remember.. i feel like Ogami Ittō...a Lone Wolf literally set adrift on the waves. Without my known tribe or affiliation in sight and sound. Many who surround me here in Hanguk-land have become false shadows of themselves. But there is no fictional Yagyu Clan opposing me, only mediocre individuals who are grouped together by circumstance and chance. a boiling disappointment i am to them i am sure. traveling for so long the road just bleeds into the next and i can't see my way. i fell into a nest of vipers with cast-off skins and i have been made an even more hardened traveler by my encounters with them...for i have always been an outsider here in this land....an ESL ronin if you will... The state of Mu, being nothingness, is the only thing that keeps me sane. i am an empty vessel filling myself up with the favorable attributes of others..to become an emotion vampire absorbing the best parts of personalities and traits. i get drunk consuming the beauty of simply wonderful people. Their ideas and talents serve to fuel my dream engine with abandon. Yet, when those ones become scarce, the mediocre ones taint me with a slow poison. So, then i am given over to reminiscing... Feeding on the memories alone is no longer enough. it will be twilight soon save a secret for the moon. i need to fall in with a crowd of drifters who do not suck me dry of mirth and love for things greater than myself... "...sometimes the road is too long you meet all kinds of people some of them cast no shadow they have no reflections take a look in your photobook I'm not there anymore I was a traveling salesman I got lost on the backroads fell in with a crowd of drifters sometimes the sun is too bright and it burns you like acid you get to love driving at night the moon is so close, you can kiss it I used to remember you smiling and waving I don't think I can anymore we come, unnoticed, at sundown at the start of a blackout we set bonfires all over town and it's over by morning sometimes we bring the rat and the wolf and sometimes the worm..." - s. merritt |
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| Monday, March 17th, 2008 |
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Pints of black gold, pub filled to the brim, singing songs with arms over others shoulders, the memories almost seem dim.... i clink glasses of Guinness with newfound friends only to have the pint glass crack apart like an Easter egg. There was no malice involved, but staring at it in an inebriated state it served to remind me that after all this time my heart is still a broken light bulb, the filament long gone out..... someone just asked me tonight almost mockingly if i ever felt lonely, but the naked truth was that i feel as though i am surrounded by mediocre people that give life that shitty sour milk smell.....the kind that you wanna throw out but it still lingers heavily in the air regardless of how many time zones you can cross over. so no, i am not aching for companionship from certain individuals...but rather feeling stretched rice-paper thin and time-worn from tap-dancing for these idiots with their eggshell personality conflicts and hyper-sensitive modus operandi.... whenever i hear these chords..my eyes close and my lips open softly and silently to form these words...so goes my heart into my mouth.... and it becomes something else until the end of the tune....until the heart i am left holding is a jagged arrowhead of a thing with the veins spreading out in crystal spidery threads wondering why i am the way that i am and this song almost murders me thinking of Irish films, Czech women, and Cambridge, Massachusetts things... "I don't want to get over you. I guess I could take a sleeping pill and sleep at will and not have to go through what I go through. I guess I should take Prozac, right, and just smile all night at somebody new, Somebody not too bright but sweet and kind who would try to get you off my mind. I could leave this agony behind which is just what I'd do if I wanted to, but I don't want to get over you cause I don't want to get over love. I could listen to my therapist, pretend you don't exist and not have to dream of what I dream of; I could listen to all my friends and go out again and pretend it's enough, or I could make a career of being blue--I could dress in black and read Camus, smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth like I was 17 that would be a scream but I don't want to get over you......" - s. merritt |
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| Monday, March 3rd, 2008 |
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i opened my eyes today. they have been shut for so long, who knows what i could have seen inside of a year in Asia? Contract renewal , visa woes, student debt leaves me bereft without wine, woman, and song.... so i reach down inside and drink deep from where i once was. i still remember the cold, clear taste. sharp as the night air stinging my eyes. i left Ori Station and two friends who were departing too recently for unfamiliar shores. i wish them well with their wedding plans and i am astonished that i knew them so briefly in the Great Golden Handcuffs... a sense of purpose eludes me with fragmented personality, whiskey sours in the wee hours of the morning, missing Massachusetts and loved ones aplenty. foklore aside i have not finished this very protagonist's tale. i stumble and bumble my way through ill-conceived plans and waking dreams.. for what once was clear as pale moonlight has become polluted as smog-smothered stars 'neath U.S. occupied territories. methinks a change best be in order to circumnavigate these treacherous waters and black sails in the sunset. When my ship finaly comes into its port of calling we will know whether the worth of the journey was made in earnest or not... drunken lullabies notwithstanding, hear me sigh unto angels and beer bottles to ring in some cautious rebirth of where i should be standing in two summers time. Once again the adventure begins!! |
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| Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008 |
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i am feeling Minnesota right now, wet socks, New Years kisses, crabmeat dip and dirty dishes, the wind rushes through his thistle of a beard, cockle burrs and dandelions aplenty....one kiss is too many, don't believe in superstition, but believing in myself lately is aiming the gunshot barely missing, we've taken a lot of lumps in the last year, i am limping on a sprained ankle and a calloused heart into the next year.... heated floors, dance moves, slip-on shoes. Korean saunas, yet somehow i still lose...out on the aesthetic of the moment. what does it take to get out me out of this dark funk? with thoughts like spiders crawling inside this head of mine, a steam trunk design full of dust-covered memories... a foreigner for real on the dirty streets of Seoul, walking with Björk look-a-likes, but can never find a copy of himself, a true kindred spirit in the form of a female Doppelgänger , Ich kommt aus Berlin to my China Wall all the way to New York i could hear her breathing... it almost all but destroys me, with the wind cutting in like a knife to my flesh, i am at a loss for words walking across pools of waters having flown over multiple time zones just to get here, to get back to the business of being myself instead of masquerading in Massachusetts as the ghost of someone else.... a bard sings "The Ballad of John Tulloch" deep into the inky frigid darkness, i suck in the night air. it tastes cool and sweet. i suck it in through my teeth and exhale it through my eyes somehow, thinking of loved ones and meaningful songs that could take this aching misunderstanding away from me...gnawing into my bones like some sort of cancer..... i left a behind a culture of fear. a country that held no place for me. no identity. colonialism and conquistadores, the immortal Joe Strummer and i singing mestizo love songs through the giant clusterfuck that is Christmas and New Years. maybe this year will be better than the last..... |
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| Tuesday, December 18th, 2007 |
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"December boys got it bad" September gurls do so much I was your butch and you were touched I loved you, well, never mind I've been crying all the time December boys got it bad September gurls, I don't know why How can I deny what's inside Even though I'll keep away Maybe we'll love all our days When I get to bed, late at night That's the time she makes things right Ooh when she makes love to me - a. chilton December comes and i am less whole. i am unraveled again in a downward spiral of dire finances and petty thoughts. What becomes of the broken-hearted? Shattered in half not due to human females but a metaphor for something so much more. In autumn light something glistened on her shiny surface. A lovely muse that is so warm and organic to the deft touch. pull it out. a paper sleeve. oh my joy..only you deserve conceit..i miss my music. the entire damn vinyl record collection i left behind in Gloucester...someday we will be reunited once again...in the meantime... spin that black circle....! |
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| Monday, November 26th, 2007 |
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no but really... South Florida has proved obnoxious in its reliability to be somewhere i can extol the virtues of being unproductive. not much anything got accomplished. i can only begin the blame with myself. i could never fault Carlos with these things.... Late night TV movies, lack of sensible haircuts, i don't even know what I am gonna do now. Sweat descends upon every tooth in my mouth, anxiety-ridden bedspreads and regrettable strawberry daiquiris. Forgotten mixtapes filed away in my mind play out loud whenever they choose to. its like some sort of suffocating heartbreak because there never is enough time to just enjoy the music. this soundtrack of life passes like the thief in the night. days bleed into the next with dried blood on the hilt of the blade. The knife twists ever so slowly until i am covered in unfeeling oblivion... Frantic excursions, passports, foreign airports, language immersion...am i really going to put myself through this again? the xenophobia, culture clash, only time will tell if it will all pass. for i keep living in the past fucking the future.... but it makes much more sense to live in the present tense. |
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| Wednesday, October 24th, 2007 |
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 taken from BBC news excerpt: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/705 "i helped organize protests in NYC against restructuring of the City University. Many of the students were from WORKING CLASS backgrounds, and of the thousands who showed up at City Hall, the overwhelming majority where black or of Latin American descent. 7,000 police were mobilized to contain the protests. I myself was beaten and hospitalized in the days leading up to it... Our demands were for an open university that served the entire population. These student protesters [in Venezuela] are FAR more concerned with DEFENDING their wealth and privilege. Their right-wing leaders supported a military coup, a coup who's leader now sits at liberty in Miami, Florida. I have to say that North Americans are getting sick of a lying, right-wing media that only RESPECTS dissent when it looks down at the people and proclaims a democratic and socialist government a tyranny. WHERE were these heroic students when the coup leaders shot people down in the streets of Caracas? WHERE were they when democracy was truly spit on? THEY were cheering. The fact is that Venezuela has MORE students than ever, LESS censorship than ever and is ACTUALLY repossessing their national wealth away from the FOREIGN oil companies and the PARASITIC ELITE that views Venezuela's patrimony as their personal inheritance. BBC. Fox News. CNN. RCTV... We've had enough." Jed Brandt, New York City |
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| Sunday, October 14th, 2007 |
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...here is to hoping that my departure from the North Shore will not be something of mere nonchalance. Heavy calloused hearts and light maple syrup to color my recent tragedy. Bipolar nonsense within the start of an engine. it makes no difference i keep telling myself. This sort of thing was inevitable as i pack my meager belongings in some Dickensian fashion. feeling all the while faint and transparent from the gravity of the situation.... My life has been much like a dime store novel. the protagonist well-meaning, but most often if not. woefully misunderstood and misconstrued. What will become of him? there are no likely scenarios at this point. i intend to hurl myself into the Great Wide Open and i hope to garner some great kernel of truth from it. it has been a Mestizo Love Story from the outset. my love for things greater than myself and my awkwardness in expressing that to others.... for i am a migrant worker. intending to embark on some misadventure with a Kerouac-like conscience and a fatalism borne out of being a Boston Red Sox fanatic. wherever i will go i will practice personal politics and oral story-telling to stave off the mundane.... i will continue to read Neil Gaiman novels and view Hayao Miyazaki films for an well-needed infusion of fantasy. i will continue to pine for my vinyl record collection. and i will always miss people more than places.... ....and so goes my self-imposed exile into Connecticut for the time being. |
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| Saturday, June 9th, 2007 |
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tonight is their final show ever.... at Neumo's in Seattle. a classic indie rock band full of enough spitfire and passion in their songs to ease the pain of on-setting early adulthood. from the first time i saw them play live w/ Les Savy Fav alongside my loved ones Jamie and Rachel @ Lupos to the last time i saw PGMG play live w/ the Moon Rats alongside Jen and Damien in the Living Room i fell in love with this band.... thank you: Andrea Zollo Derek Fudesco Leona Marrs Jay Clark Nathan Thelen Nick Dewitt Andrea and i at the final Providence show 2007:  "Do you remember when We couldn’t put it away? Do you remember when We couldn’t put it away? Do you remember what the music meant? (To you?) (To me?) (To you?) (To me?) Do you remember what the music meant? Life’s complications and frustrations They disappear when the music starts playing I found a place where it feels alright I heard a record and it opened my eyes Do you remember when we couldn’t put it away? Do you remember what the music meant? And nothing else matters When I turn it up loud There was the one definitive moment Well, did it mean it to you? There was that one definitive moment When it was something new Life’s complications and frustrations They disappear when the music starts playing I found a place where it feels alright I heard a record and it opened my eyes Did it mean it to you? Do you remember when We couldn’t put away? Do you remember when We couldn’t put it away? Do you remember what the music meant? And nothing else matters Yeah nothing else matters When I turn it up loud Yeah nothing else matters When I turn it up loud" - a. zollo |
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| Friday, April 6th, 2007 |
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gone but not forgotten.... |
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| Thursday, April 5th, 2007 |
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Happy Birthday to my favorite guitarist of all time!! a musician whose courage and passion inspire so many......... millions of PJ fans hereby salute you who are about to rock Europe!! - oscar *i met Mikey at Borgata 2005!!!* |
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| Thursday, January 11th, 2007 |
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....and it came over me like some sort of quiet fire from within. earnest inspiration soaked in kerosene ablaze lighting up the dark ink of the night sky even though i sat alone in this cold room. i wondered enough to wander through thick seas of remorse to find my ship set alight with no regrets. a burning funeral pyre for the misbegotten. the timbers crackle with singing flames taking delight in unison. a fiery chorus of voices engulfed and indulged in their song. their wordless joy made all the more louder with colors dancing. a rocket Gibraltar nestled among the stars. i smiled twice with eyes closed in laughter and a tooth-baring grin wide as a riverbed.... for i can only go forward from here.to cross the Pacific Ocean set afire.stringing paper lanterns full of January embers glowing.i stand steadfast at the bow of the ship. a taste of wine mixed with blood & cinders in my mouth. i drink deep from the bottle in passionate salute of those who came before me. a strange warmth rekindled in my heart. for when i set sail from this shore despondent i will feel alive once more....  "I’ve said it before, All fires have to burn alive. All fires have to burn alive. From near his heart, He took a rib. All fires have to burn alive to live. From near his heart, He took a rib. All fires have to burn alive to live. So it’s Teresa that I love the best." - s. krug 
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| Friday, December 22nd, 2006 |
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 ....what more can be said? are there eulogies fit enough to encompass the life of this firebrand? his passion for social change lives on in timeless song and spirited protest. he was more than just the frontman for The Clash. his politics and presence redefined punk into what it should have been. 3rd World-informed and anti-Nazi. Joe saw farther and further beyond what ever inferior band the UK or LA scenes spawned. and those songs! it still captures my ears.... the way his songs were cultivated in part from the roots reggae and rocksteady beat of the day. coupled with his blues, funk, country, and rock & roll influences. Chuck Berry. Joe Ely. Bo Diddley. Bob Dylan. no. there will never be another Joe Strummer. someone who could take island music and make it a global-a-go-go. spit in the eye of Thatcher-era Britain and embrace West Indian influence in music. a white man who would not exploit black music. but celebrate it. he was the "White Man in Hammersmith Palais". Joe had integrity. Joe had charisma. thats why if you ask older Clash fans they can still recall "the man with the electric leg" inciting the crowd to sing along with unbridled enthusiasm. his stage energy is the stuff of legend... i still remember exactly what i was doing the moment i heard he died....tears rolling down my face. years later i would still put down the crooked arm with the needle on it to hear his vinyl records. and yes. i still love hearing his voice ring out over those tinny speakers.... despite my inherent sadness i was grateful that i had finally seen him live the year previous to his death. rarely have i seen a crowd that electrified. genuinely excited about the music.looking wild-eyed my friend cupped his hand and told me to get my leg up. all the while Joe Strummer had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. amid drums pounding & guitars barking. i jumped onstage with him in Worcester and i was immediately awestruck at his friendly grin. rush of adrenaline. i sang a few bars of "Rudie, A Message To You" alongside Joe Strummer. i leaped back into the crowd before security could ground me into hamburger. the crowd singing in union. "Rudie, Can't Fail" "London Calling" "I Fought the Law". Microphone stand draped across his shoulders. his leg pumping up and down like an engine piston. Joe dedicated a song to the late Joey Ramone that night. "Blitzkreig Bop" we were losing our elder statesman of punk. slowly. one by one. what would become of Strummer's legacy? while many contemporary bands continue to ape and counterfeit his sound they lack his passion & exuberance. they lack a sense of music history and heritage. it pains me that success eluded Joe during his Wilderness Years. his post-Clash contributions continue to be sorely underrated and would go unappreciated by many. one could see that Joe Strummer was still young. only 50 years of age. the world lost a unique and uncompromising voice. yet we also gained a treasured cache of songs that just wouldn't let go of youthful rebellion and questioning authority. but also ones that can be considered to be classics.... "I was crawling through a festival way out west I was thinking about love and the acid test at first I got real dizzy with a real rockin' gang and then I saw the coma girl on the excitement gang and the rain came in from the wide blue yonder and through all the stages I wandered Coma girl on the excitement gang she's the Mona Lisa on a motorcycle gang coma girl, coma girl The coma girl was beating with the oildrum gang and some fast-food fanatic was burning down a burger van and somebody was wailing off their head oh nobody is rippin' the teen scene dead and the rain came in from the wide blue yonder and I thought you and me might wander... Coma girl on the excitement gang Mona Lisa on a motorcycle gang Coma girl Coma girl on a motorcycle gang as the nineteenth hour was falling upon desolation row some outlaw band had the last drop on the go let's siphon up some gas!!! let's get this show on the road!!! said the coma girl to the excitement gang & into action everybody sprang and the oildrums were beating out doo-lang doo-lang Coma girl on the excitement gang Mona Lisa on a motorcycle gang Coma girl (doo-lang doo-lang) Coma girl (doo-lang doo-lang) *doo lang*s & *B.V.s* Heyyo, yo let it roll!" - j.strummer |
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| Monday, December 18th, 2006 |
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i want to hear the wind in the trees... where i am among the working poor and do not know what is exactly expected of this country. will another election even matter? empathy for the so-called social revolution in Venezuela keeps me up most nights. i keep thinking things will change in this nation. yeah i keep telling myself that. tell that to Chavez y la pobreza.... .....but then again i never really felt like i was exclusively bound hand and foot to the Americas of old. slave trade to South and North. hemispsheres apart and cultures torn. why was i born here? i want to be a wanderer again. listening to strange rainstorms and walking home along street signs in other tongues. singing Bob Dylan songs all wrong because my voice is hushed into a gruff whisper.... small iconoclasts and mere ideology kept me from traveling back to Bogota for this pretend winter. i let my finances outweigh 21 grams and i crashed into melancholy. Colombia will have to wait for me for yet another season. i missed those days when i believed in myself a little more often... the world was new again and i drowned in delight whenever i heard a song that would make my heart burst out loud and into color. i dream in color. i dream in red. blood and wine. light and life. love stained brightly like dyed lambs' wool. return to where my legs move of their own accord and my arms spread akimbo before slowly raising to take flight. traveling without moving. songs without singing. ocean tide and rustling wind rising to meet me making music like some sort of secret laughter. so i cup my mouth with both hands. open them lovingly in the beautiful quiet. close my eyes and i breathe out warm invisible air. it comes from my inner furnace where January embers still glow from yesteryear.  and it must be my love for things that are greater than me.... these personal mysteries become mired when the stories stop arriving by daydreams. and the days do not pass without some small sacrifice on my part to forget what was once important to me. to forget who i am. a dreamer such as Lennon and Marley. a troubadour such as Cash and Strummer. past glories and cruel misfortunes recounted not romanticized. i do not remain the victim but the victor in that i learn from my diseased triumphs so i take these intangible desires and hold them in high regard for when these dreams finally die i can stop struggling against what truly stifles me.... "The thunder clouds broke up, And the rain dried up, The lightning let up, The clacking shutters just shut up. There’s no black or white, No change in the light, No night, no golden sun. The sound of cars, The smell of bars, The awful feeling of electric heat. And the fluorescent lights, There’s sacrifice, There’s hard feelings, There’s pointless waste. I want wind to blow My clothes off me, Sweep me off my feet, Take me up and don't bring me back. Oh, where I can see Days pass by me, I have no head to hold in grief. There’s no hope for me, I’ve been set free. There’s no breeze, There’s no ship on my sea." - P. Elverum |
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| Friday, December 8th, 2006 |
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26 years ago, we all lost a great poet and an insightful dreamer.... despite the war and all that is sadly wrong with this country i truly believe this world would have been a better place with you in it.  R.I.P. John Lennon 1940-1980 "....and we all shine on.." |
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| Saturday, November 18th, 2006 |
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....well truth be told. i am looking for that Thunder on the Mountain myself. with crashed computers and forgotten fotos from Berlin. i read some Kerouac and took off again on a road trip to see Bob Dylan. and some dear old friends. drinks all around and funny anecdotes in abundance in Amherst, Massachusetts.... Birthday wishes to Jade as i delivered Gregg to her doorstep and a box of Red Stripe lager. Laughter and kisses on the cheek as it is always good to see her. her bunny looks anxiously from his cage as i fumble with coherent thoughts and broken sentences... Antonio and i stick our noses in a Nalgene bottle full of Yellowtail Merlot. we drink deep to sing songs and wander in the pale moonlight. Resin hits and paper clips. later we floated near the duck pond much like a Spirit on the Water. got a decent seat for the show and i revisited Highway 61 and Like a Rolling Stone. Bob Dylan held court onstage amongst his session musicians. the older lady who sat next to me said she went to Woodstock when she was younger and saw Jimi Hendrix play live. i told her i have only read about such things in print and seen timeless footage wishing i could have been there... Discussed the music of the Doors with Andy and pored over books with Bob Dylan photographs in Antonio's dorm room. Music always seems to bring people together despite class wars and social structure... took a leisurely stroll into Northampton to discover vinyl record shops and friendly locals. such a progressive and liberal place to live. i'd love to retire in a town much like this so i can grow old with content. Broken fragments of joy amid family strife. a quarter of my life gone and spent...gone and went like my last drop of cheaply imported beer. without so much as rustle from my kinfolk or a kind word spoke. This mired poetry and prose can't even begin to explain how i even overcome these mundane situations. Skewered shows, negative Windows experiences, credit card debt, and getting banned from my brother's house are the least among these... however, life has its fits of giggles among the despair.... getting lost driving to Halloween parties and eating out at local diners, Jeff and Doria threw a wonderful indie rock dance party while i missed most of it en route to Watertown. i came dressed as a Sonic Nurse to uphold the vanguard of good music. holding my newborn pseudo-niece, Penelope Sage Bartholomew, in my arms while hanging out at Hannah's house in Gloucester served as calm eye in recent storm of troubles i have been weathering... funny how other things seem to pale in comparison when you hold a life in your hands and wonder at the newness of it.... 
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| Sunday, September 24th, 2006 |
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que coraje.... the PJ show @ the Wuhlheide venue left me frustated and disappointed. Scheisse! that tour date was doomed from the start with illogical planning and inadequate preparation on my part. Despite "Big Wave" and "Footsteps" the setlist was mostly standard and the sound system seemed a bit flat. sometimes the magic just isn´t there. Eddie and the boys seemed a little bit worse for wear. which was disheartening since Praha was such an excellent show according to everyone who went. typical tour tragedy. everything went wrong including my misadventure at the Ostbahnhof since the train to Erkner was out of service just this morning! of all fucking days! met a British bloke from Leeds who helped guide me back to the S-bahn to get to Wuhlheide. and to that random fucker!! who muscled his way into my righthand spot forcing the German girl i was with in the queue to move. all because she didn´t protect her spot. He was just in the front rail specifically after Mikey picks and barely sang along. just kept raising his fingers as if he was looking for a tout. trying to win Mikey´s favor or some shit. then those bastard security detail give that same wanker THREE fucking Mikey picks. dropping them neat and sharpish into his palm. greedy twat! it bummed me out considerably and i just couldn´t get back into the show. at least Danny und Tracey were doing their best to rock out. i was also stressed about how to take the infernal S-bahn back to the hostel and how to catch the red-eye flight to Vienna. i sincerely hate when it when PJ fans are inconsiderate of each other. but still after having a moderately successful East Coast leg of the tour, Letterman gig, Boston 1, Philly 2, Jersey 2, and the glorious Hartford. i was going 5-4 on this tour. its only probability that Berlin ended up being a disappointment.... My only saving grace was when i gave up my spot up front to Sabina, thus enabling her to snag the setlist. it was right when the boys launched into "Baba O´Riley". i grabbed her wrist and propelled into the coveted space. it being her first show, i decided to martyr my position deep into the 3rd encore of standard setlist gig. she also found a Mikey pick by pure accident under her foot after the show ended! so in turn.... i am out for 50 euros + on an unfortunate experience, but i gave a tour newbie a memory she will never forget... it also didn´t hurt that Sabina in fact, was a sublimely attractive Deutsche girl with blond hair and had a well-honed figure. she thanked me profusely afterwards. and i decided not to go to the Black Keys aftershow. Hell i didn´t even get to see Mirella at all! Scheisse! well there is always Vienna to look forward to.... |
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LiveJournal for State Of Love And Trust.....
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