Giving Thanks

This is just a short post to acknowledge one of the best Thanksgiving weekends ever.

I co-hosted Thanksgiving dinner with new friends (see my buddy Wil's Blog "When There's Wil, There's Always A Way"). And, I got the opportunity to mix old and new friends together over the holiday weekend.

Muir Music

And, I brought my CD, "The J Sessions - Wishin'" to our local CD store in Provincetown, Muir Music, so the owner could give a listen and determine whether it would 'fit' in with her other CDs for sale.



While she gave it a listen, I went to the beach.

There was no one else there, but me. It was beautiful, sunny and windy. I walked out for 40 minutes. I stood up on a dune and raised my arms and flew . . .

When I got back to the car, I had a voice mail that the owner of Muir Music had not just given me the 'thumbs up' to sell it at her store, BUT she said she loved my voice, loved 'the band' (thanks to "The Flying Cowboys", I couldn't have done it without you) and she wanted to buy more copies of the CD to sell.

Now, I've got my own 'slot' in the local artist's section. And, these are no ordinary slots, but instead are 5 CD deep squares that 'display' the CD at eye level.

So, there I am with the likes of Zoe Lewis and Peter Donnelly. She loved the packaging, too. And, she hung the poster outside her door.

Wishin' . . . sometimes it pays off.

www.lancehatch.com

Okay! Okay! And, I'm becoming shameless at self-promotion!

Sincerely, thanks for your continued interest and support.

I went back to the cemetery . . .

Today was one of those days that I'll never forget as long as I live.

I witnessed the celebration of the life of the father of "The Love of My Lives", Ronald J. Filipski.

I can't even begin to express the intensity of the convergence of feeling, faith and emotion that occurred today, but I can assure you all, it was amazing.

I watched "The Love of My Lives", with his new paramour, play out their role in making all that happened today 'happen'. It was interesting. I mean, they seem to have a certain complimentary rhythm that helps them 'get through it all'.

I ended up hanging out with another "ex-" and a mutual friend of the ex-.

I think people were surprised that I showed up as the 'loner', the 'renegade', the 'drifter'. But, that's who I am.

I mean, I think it's nice that one of the ex's showed up with a mutual friend and that we all got along with the current 'paramour', but it all felt a little strained to me. I exited alone . . .

Don't get me wrong. It was a beautiful and wonder-filled day. But, like all funerals . . . it was laden with the regrets of all that should have been and the idealism that only 'good' memories can bring.

Then, I went back to the cemetery . . . alone.

I left the 'reception(?)' hall shortly past 3:16 PM (3/16 is my birthday) and headed back to the cemetery. I wanted to spend some time with Pam, (the ex's sister, who died of a brain tumor at the age of 28 in 1988), and Ron, th ex's dad, after the crowd had passed.

As I always do, I freaked somebody out.

When I arrived at the cemetery, there was an elderly gentleman with a white pickup truck and several shovels and rakes. He was lifting up these 4x8 sheets of 1/4" plywood from next to Ron's grave that were placed there to manage the earth. He'd just finished filling the plot in and arranging the flowers. It was obvious that he was a 'quiet' caretaker. It is his role in life to 'cover' people and help return them to the earth.

I said to him that I was just coming back to visit the graves after the funeral and the crowds had gone.

He looked at me with both an expression of compassion and incredulity.

I, on the other hand, just realized it was a reaction appropriate to 'me' being 'me'.

I suppose most people don't return to the grave site of a recently departed loved one on the day they've been interred. But, then again, I'm not most people.

Anyway, once he took his shovels and rakes and drove away (acknowledging me with only a nod), I squatted and acknowledged both Pam and Ron. I cried. I cried . . . I let them know that I loved their brother and son, unconditionally. I watched the light of a late autumn day. I felt the chill of/in the air and I watched the clouds roll by.

And, ultimately, I had an intimate moment with his sister and his father that no one else had.

I'm so glad I went back to see them by myself. I doubt that anyone else would, but I had to.

And, I cried . . .

Synchronicities

www.lancehatch.com

As Ron has passed, and we all go on with whatever it is that preoccupies our little and big lives, I will continue to remember and acknowledge Ron, Don, Sylvia, Bob, Steve, Pam, and the list goes on of those who've passed that I think about almost daily . . . Thank you, I love you, I miss you, yet I know none of you are far from me . . .

So, I dedicate a birth, of sorts, to all those who've passed and all those living, too. Before I proceed, I wanted to state again that one of my goals in producing my CD, "The J Sessions - Wishin'" was to have it completed so that both "The Love of My Lives"' father, Ron, and my dad, Phil, would each get to know what I'd accomplished in terms of being a good person on this planet:

I fell in love. I got my heart broken. I cried and cried and cried. And, in between tears I found reasons to smile. I eventually found reasons to laugh . . . long, loud and deeply. And, in between all that 'living', that crying and smiling and laughing, I processed my loss . . . no, my, our transformation.

I had learned how to forgive . . . myself.

So, I suppose my desire to have our dads be able to experience my documentation (via my CD, my music) is really about me and my selfishness, but – somehow – I thought it was important. What do I know? Well, I know how to keep trying, regardless of all my foibles, ignorance and mistakes.

So, back to the dedication of a birth . . .

Yesterday I launched my web site for my CD "The J Sessions - Wishin'". I do so in remembrance of love lost and found, all those folks I've loved and who've loved me who've passed and to all of those living I still love and who still love me. Thanks for the inspiration, support, hugs and love.

Enjoy and live intentionally!

Ron has passed . . .

My pal from across the pond often asks why I'm posting Blogs so early in the morning. And, though it doesn't happen all that often (to me, anyway), all I can say is: that when the spirits move you better be ready . . .

"The Love of My Lives" lost his father yesterday. We all did . . .

I hate death. I mean, I accept it, but I hate it.

12:40 PM, Friday, November 2, 2007, the phone rings (not unlike Thursday, October 25, 2001) and I learn that another man I've loved has passed . . . Ron is gone . . .

Just last September I met up with "The Love of My Lives" and he told me his father was not doing well. And, I said: "I want to see him." And, of course, I never got to.

I felt this way about my dad's cousin, Carolyn, too.

I'm one of those weird people that actually wants to see people, again, before they pass. But, I'm always 'restricted' and 'protected' from the apparent unpleasant state that these loved ones may be in. This pisses me off . . .

Regardless, it's my decision to want to see them, but because of other's well meaning, I never get to.

It's one reason "The Hours" and the book "The Notebook" resonate so much with me. They each face death squarely in the face. I don't mind death. I hate it. But, I don't mind it. I mean, what are you going to do about it? Death happens. It's like the infamous concept that "Shit happens!". I think I'll publish a new bumper sticker that says: "Death better NOT happen!"

Ugh!

As I shared with my 'soul mate', Barbara, today, I'm always surprised by my reaction when someone I love passes . . . especially when I'm 'prepared'. Fuck. It still hits me like a Mack Truck. Geez.

So, now I'm listening (for the one hundredth time in two weeks) to my CD. I think it's awesome. I think of "The Love of Lives". I think of his dad, Ron. I think of my dad, Phillip, or "Phil". And, I think about how lucky I am to 'feel'. It sucks. BUT, it 'feels' great. I'm so glad to be alive and to live.

Ohhh! I miss him . . . I miss him . . . but, it's "Okay." It's "Okay . . . " It's not great, but it's "Okay."

Remember, all, I love you . . .

And, a special thanks to Scott, Kristin, Mom, Dad (I love you both . . . so much . . . ) and, ultimately, Bob and Jess, for dragging me out last night . . . I love you all, so much. And then, and yes, . . . this means I'm still "Alive" ("I'm alive! Maggie, the Cat, is alive!" "Click me!"), thank God for that beefy bartender at "The Alchemist"! It's 555- . . . Kidding, not kidding y'all!

Live . . . please.

And, take nothing for granted.

Good night. Good morning. Grace.

Peace, love and light . . . always,

Lance =;-) (I love 'emoticons' . . . and I love you . . . )

The Firesetter

There's a fox in the hen house . . .

I learned yesterday that there's an apparent arsonist starting fires in Provincetown. Beyond the obvious personal reasons for being concerned about this apparent fact (the last incident that I'm aware of occurred right next door to my property), I'm more intrigued by the deeper psychological issues that cause all kinds of anti-social, aberrant behaviors.

So, I don't have a lot to contribute personally to the dialog, beyond my state of bewilderment, but I wanted to share both the emerging story as it begins to unfold in the Provincetown Banner and a small blurb I found from some CBS broad cast profiling arsonists, Firesetters . . .

Three Fires On Wednesday May Point To Arsonist
(URL link to Provincetown Banner article)

Photo Pru Sowers
Provincetown firefighters pried open
a garage door at 2 Commercial St.,
where police say a fire was deliberately set.

Firesetters: Notes On Their Profile
(URL link to "Arson Facts - CBS News" @ cbsnews.com)

Profile Of A Serial Arsonist

A study involving 83 serial arsonists found that 82 percent were white, 94 percent were male and half were age 27 or younger. Each had set about 31 fires. Most serial arsonists had a history of prior crimes, with 87 percent reporting prior felony arrests.

While two-thirds of the subjects had average or above-average intelligence, 90 percent had only a high school education or less. Most subjects also had difficulties in their personal relationships or with socialization. Among the 83 subjects studied, there were 637 prior placements in institutions ranging from foster homes to jails. One-fourth of the subjects had reportedly attempted suicide at least once, and almost half had psychological histories. Less than one-third said they had warm or close relationships with their parents, though over half came from homes with both parents present.

More than half of the arsonists chose to observe the blaze after it was set, either from the scene or at a nearby location. Most said they did not think about being caught when setting the fires, or thought it was unlikely. Most were arrested through police work, with 15 percent having turned themselves in.