risingfrom theashes

"Sailing Around The Room"

2009-10-05T22:50:00.004-04:00

Well, it's been almost ten months since I've posted anything out here. I've been Facebooking up a storm, but find that my blog is better for topics requiring more than a brief description.

So, as the autumn of the year finds me more reflective and introspective, I find turning inward provides opportunities to field dreams and harvest inspirations.

And, as a result, my autumn compilation CD for 2009, "Sugar Boy," flows with songs about maturing, aging and passing.

I stumbled on two different songs about these themes. The first is Emmylou Harris's "Sailing Around The Room," from her "All I Intended To Be" CD. The second is John Mellencamp's "Longest Days."

These songs resonate strongly now as I witness my own folks aging and my father, specifically, dealing with frontal lobe dementia and, likely, Alzheimer's. They make me appreciate him more, fear death less and prepare for the ultimate transition that we all face.

Last night, or late this early morning, I had a dream about apparently dying or having a near death experience. It was in color - which is rare - and included a cast of near 30 or more people including family - virtual and real - co-workers, Emmylou Harris, my guitar, my 'passing out' on a couch in California and my 'waking,' evidently, in a 'passed' state. I was flying . . .

In fact, in my waking hours, I remember so vividly the sensations of flying that I swear I've done it. In fact, I was surprised today everytime I thought about alighting and then realizing I couldn't. The funny thing is I'm more frustrated by my inability to soar and fly, as I do in my dreams, now that I can 'feel' what it's like in my waking hours.

So, it is the dream coming to life . . . the passing from one plane to the next.

And, it's Emmylou Harris's "Sailing Around The Room" that brought this, or perhaps, coalesced this all for me, all of a sudden.

Here's the video followed by the lyrics.

"Sailing Around The Room" (video)

Sailing Around The Room

One last gaze upon the sun
Bid farewell to everyone
Kicked that bucket out the door
Where I'm goin I won't need it anymore

Gonna lay my burden down
Take a birdseye look around
From the tall pines of Carolina
All the way to the Wall of China

So I go sailing round the room
Through my window, cross the silver moon
No flesh and bone to hold me
I'll finally set my soul free
When I go sailing round the room

Life may be just but a dream
Rode my boat on down the stream
To wake up on a different shore
Wind up as something I aint never been before

I could be a drop of summer rain
Fallin down on an Oklahoma plain
Gonna leave the world behind me
Look around and you will find me

So I go sailing round the room
Through my window, cross the silver moon
No flesh and bone to hold me
I'll finally set my soul free
When I go sailing round the room

[I.....will be.....]
In the smoke from Mauna Loa
Morning mist on the Shenandoah

[I.....will be.....]
Grain of sand in the Kalahari
Magnolia by the Mississippi

[I.....will be.....]
Bird song when the day is breaking
Words of love when your heart is aching

Blue bonnet by the highway
I'll be everywhere and always

When I go sailing round the room
Through my window, cross the silver moon
No flesh and bone to hold me
I'll finally set my soul free

When I go sailing round the room
Through my window, cross the silver moon
No flesh and bone to hold me
I'll finally set my soul free
When I go sailing round the room

Musings on music . . .

2008-12-31T11:25:00.003-05:00

On the music front, I most appreciate artists and their repertoire over years of writing and/or performing. In our current digital age, disposable culture and shrunken attention spans, I struggle with today's penchant for "songs" (what - when I was a kid - we called "one hit wonders") versus "albums". I have some "songs" in my collection (mostly dance remixes, appropriately, I think!), but as a relationship person generally, I've always preferred finding an artist that could consistently and repeatedly tell good stories. I'm particularly fond of "theme" or "concept" albums. In fact, one reason I put out my CD when I did is because I recognized - on a time line - putting out a "concept" CD (collection of songs) - complete with well thought out and "intentional" photographic images and including the lyrics in a "designed" lyric booklet - was a "now or never" proposition. In fact, I probably hit the market with a concept CD moments after the whole digital revolution sounded the death knell for the compact disc. But, I would not have missed the opportunity.

So, that's why my favorite genre is "Americana." My favorite artists are all storytellers, regardless of whether they're singer/songwriters or interpretive singers. And, because I have these "relationships" with these artists, I've only room for so many I can truly know in depth. Though most of these are listed on my profile, I wanted to repeat them - and add others - for continuity. Well, the "Old Standbys" include: Bonnie Raitt, John Hiatt (when "on" is a "dead on" lyricist/songwriter/musician/storyteller), James Taylor, Nanci Griffith (she just gets better - like a fine wine - with age), Fleetwood Mac and its 'stars' as solo artists: Stevie Nicks, Lindsey Buckingham (his new disc, "Gift of Screws," is accessible AND truly good) and Christine McVie.

Emmylou Harris has been another huge influence, Patty Griffin (no one writes about the desolate landscape of heartbreak, hopeless desires and never ending hope so well, I think). I'm particularly moved by "When It Don't Come Easy" and "Rain" (which is the first song of Patty's I ever heard. I remember exactly when and where I was when I heard it). Bruce Cockburn's "Dart to the Heart" is an amazing disc. I think he's underrated, too. David Wilcox lost major label representation, but had/has been making consistently good music for awhile, too.

Other more 'mainstream' favorites include: Shawn Colvin and, of late with his latest disc, John Mellencamp.

And, my latest influence and newest artist in residence on my iPod is Ryan Adams. I've ordered his latest disc - which got really good, probably his best reviews - but haven't got it yet. But, "Easy Tiger" has several solid tracks and his "Follow the Lights" EP he did in 2007 has a chestnut that's in heavy rotation (part of an equally heavily rotated customusic mix I made called "giving thanks" at Thanksgiving) called "My Love For You Is Real." I realized lately it would have been perfect on the "Brokeback Mountain" soundtrack. It has this great building, atmospheric outro that echoes wild, wide open spaces and 'big country' skies . . .

Nanci Griffith

2008-11-25T20:21:00.003-05:00

On Friday, November 7, Nanci Griffith reprised many of her best known songs in a concert at Berklee's Performance Center in Boston, MA.

Though I've been a fan of Nanci's for more than two decades, I've only had the opportunity to see her in concert once before. I first saw Nanci in concert at The Music Hall in Portsmouth, NH. A bittersweet experience, I ended up seeing Nanci by myself, though I had two tickets to the show. Back then, sifting through the debris of my relationship with "The Love of My Lives," I'd bought the second ticket with the hope that he'd see the show with me. Regardless to say, (and thankfully for me), I can't recall why I ended up there by myself - and wasted the second ticket - but, I remember the experience as amazing.

First, Nanci's height took me by surprise. Her being one of those tall Texan girls totally surprised me. I pictured her as a petite waif! But, she awed me, nonetheless!

So, on Friday, November 7, with a good friend, we witnessed the wonder that is Nanci in all her complex simplicity. Nanci performed her songs with a small and tight band that consisted of two guitarists and one percussionist/drummer. She performed many of the songs that define her career. She particularly showcased songs from her last CD: "Ruby's Torch."

Specifically, three songs from that last disc stand out. Below you'll find the lyrics to the three that stood out for me. And, Nanci states she's headed to the studio in December to record her next disc. I can't wait! Till then, enjoy . . .

"When I Dream"

I could have a mansion that is higher than the trees
I could have all the gifts I want and never ask please
I could fly to Paris, oh, it's at my beck and call
Why do I go through life with nothing at all

But when I dream, I dream of you
Maybe someday you will come true

I can be the singer or the clown in every room
I can even call someone to take me to the moon
I can put my makeup on and drive the men insane
I can go to bed alone and never know his name

But when I dream, I dream of you
Maybe someday you will come true

But when I dream, I dream of you
Maybe someday you will come true

"If These Walls Could Speak"

If these old walls
If these old walls could speak
What a tale they'd have to tell
Hard headed people raising hell
A couple in love living week to week
Rooms full of laughter
If these old walls could speak

If these old halls
If hallowed halls could talk
These would have a tale to tell
The sun going down, a dinner bell
And children playing at hide and seek
From floor to rafter
If these old halls could speak

They would tell you that I'm sorry
For being cold and blind and weak
They would tell you that it's only
That I have a stubborn streak
If these old walls could speak

If these old fashioned
window panes had eyes
I guess they would've seen it all
Each little tear and sigh and footfall
And every dream that we came to seek
or followed after
if these old walls could speak

They would tell you that I owe you
more than I can ever pay
Here's someone who really loves you
Don't ever go away
Is what these walls would say

If they were not so mean
If these old walls could speak

"In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning"

In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never ever think of counting sheep

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You'd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning,
that's the time you miss her most of all

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson,
you'd be hers if only she'd call
In the wee small hours of the morning,
that's the time you'll miss her most of all

The Smile Train

2008-11-11T18:55:00.009-05:00

Last summer, on a number of daily commutes to my job in downtown Boston, I found myself staring at a poster that often appeared on the back and side of our MBTA buses. The poster contained a number of photos of babies, toddlers and young children who have cleft palate.

Now, I'm aware of cleft palate. Ever since I, too, was a young child, I was aware of cleft palate. Of course, time passes by. Other concerns and priorities come rushing in to fill my days and I quite honestly hadn't thought about cleft palate in probably years.

The young faces that fill The SmileTrain poster continued to creep into my thoughts, even when I wasn't confronted with the images on the poster.

And, I decided I would do some research on the organization and make a donation. And, I decided I wanted to make a regular donation. So, I now contribute $25.00 a month to The SmileTrain. I wish I could contribute $250.00 a month (the cost for the cleft surgery), and maybe someday I'll be able to do that. But, at least I know that at least one child a year will have this surgery due to my contributions. And, $50 (the balance of my annual contributions) is enough to cover the costs for the medications for one surgery.

According to the results of the myriad of questions I've answered to help form the profile for my OKCupid.com personals profile, one of my 'qualities' is that I'm less giving. This bothers me because I don't think it's true. I am selective about 'giving.' And, in a relationship, I can be very generous, but I also desire reciprocity. I don't think this makes me 'less giving.' In the end, the OKCupid.com calculations of responses to my answers to their questions are not the definitive analysis of my generosity.

And, I have to point out that it was the expression of this one little guy that just about broke my heart and convinced me to donate to The SmileTrain organization. Why? Well, when I looked at the faces of most of the other infants and toddlers, I could see they hadn't yet developed the concepts of the 'self' and the 'other,' in terms of how we begin to understand when people are looking at us and passing judgment. Yet, it was in the eyes of this young boy that I realized he knew he was different. He'd apparently begun to internalize what the world thought of his difference. A leap? Perhaps. But, I don't think a big one. And, being someone who is especially aware of how others perceive and judge other people, I figured if I could contribute to an organization that would help relieve one stigma through a relatively simple surgery, I'd definitely contribute.

And, ultimately, since if you know me at all, you know there's part of me that wishes that I had had the opportunity to be a dad. And, yes, I probably could have made that happen, but not in the way I had hoped. So instead, I look for opportunities to help my nieces and nephews and now, ways to help children of the world less fortunate than me and mine.

For more information on The Smile Train, click on the logo below. It'll take you to the site. You can check 'em out and do some research of your own. And, perhaps, you'll consider donating, too. And, if not, perhaps you've already found another cause (or causes) you, too, can contribute to.

Peace all.

(Romantic) Love is . . .

2008-10-27T22:29:00.003-04:00

When It Don't Come Easy
by Patty Griffin

Red lights are flashing on the highway
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight
Everywhere the waters getting rough
Your best intentions may not be enough
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stand by you when it don't come easy

I don't know nothing except change will come
Year after year what we do is undone
Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home

You're out there walking down a highway
And all of the signs have blown away
Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

So many things that I had before
They don't matter to me now
Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost
And the love I've never found
When the last bird falls
And the last siren sounds
Someone will say what's been said before
It was love we were looking for

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

I’ve decided I don’t know. I don’t know what love “is.” I thought I did. The irony is I do think I “give” a lot of love, but I really don’t know what love is.

I’m watching this PBS program about “love” and all the different kinds of love, but have decided I really don’t know anything about it.

Of course, they have to do a story about the singer/songwriter girl from Colorado who meets her singer/songwriter boy from Texas . . .

One of the best quotes from the show goes something like: “Marriage is the longest conversation that always seems too short.”

And many of all these stories of people falling in love via the Internet, fate (e.g., on an airplane or while visiting Italy) only perplex me further.

I’ve pursued it, ignored it and decided I don’t even need to live with it, and yet it always – ultimately – eludes me/pursues me.

And, approaching 50 years of age, I just seem to be further from “it:” love, than ever.

I guess I always thought I would make beautiful music with someone special. The reality is I don’t know how to make beautiful music.

Whatever the reason, I’m unable to draw men to me anymore. I’m disappointed, but I accept it.

No. I don’t think this is as simple as “Like attracts like.” Meaning, I’m not single because I’m only attracting ‘loss’ or ‘emptiness.’ I just truly believe there’s no one for me. So, of course, you can say: “Well! There you go! You’ve decided ‘There’s no one for you.’ So, guess what? There’s no one for you.”

No. It’s really that I’m odder than I thought. I don’t ‘fit in.’ And, I’m not feeling sorry for myself. It’s just an “acceptance.” There’s no one interested in loving me who I find interesting, too.

I mean, most people are ‘like’ other people. They share common interests. I don’t. Trust me! I’ve tried, but I don’t ‘like’ what most people like. And, it’s not that I ‘hate’ these things, I just don’t get them. And, that’s the rub! These are things that are the ‘glue’ of society and include things like: dogs, sports, crowds, religion, politics, etc. These are things I don’t ‘get’ the way others do and share. And, without that bond how can you have an acquaintance, a friendship, never mind a life-long, intimate relationship with another person?

Yes. There has been music. And, that – finally – drew some special people to me, but it was fleeting and based on ‘failed’ love.

And, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. But, it does perplex me. I thought I’d be one of those people who would have true, lasting love: the longest conversation that always seems too short.

And, with all that said, I dreamed last night that I had a conversation with “The Love of My Lives.” It totally caught me off guard. It wasn’t anything new, except we actually ‘talked’ in my dream. We never usually ‘talk’ in my dreams. And, he smiled. And, I remembered. And, I remembered every detail of what it was like to ‘be’ with him. I hate that, because I remember everything.

He was assuring me that he loved me, but he had to see his current love through. And I just was trying to tell him that I understood that, but that I wish I could find someone to be with in the meantime.

And, I’m left with the question: “What does it all mean?”

Love is . . . I don’t know . . .

P.S. I remembered how much I enjoyed talking with him and seeing him smile.

A Weekend in Chicago

2008-10-08T14:30:00.017-04:00

Whenever possible, when I have to travel for business, I try to work my schedule so that I can take advantage of the opportunity to spend some time getting to know the place I’m visiting a little bit better. And, as I get older, I’ve virtually lost the anxiety that inhibited many of the opportunities of my youth, prohibiting me from striking out on my own over some irrational fear of getting lost forever or not having enough money to get back from where I’d got to or some other such improbability. So, here came Chicago.

I’ve visited the Chicago area a number of times in my life. But, until the last couple of visits, when I was given tours of a few of its highlights, I’d never really had the chance to explore the place on my own. So, when the opportunity arose for me to go to Chicago on business, I decided to deliberately enjoy a couple of days there on my own.

Day 1

Arrival in Lakeview

Detail Map of Lakeview

Now, I’ve been to Lakeview (aka “Boys Town,” so named for its large population of Gay Men and subsequent shops, bars, restaurants, etc. owned by and/or catering to the Gay Men who live in and around Lakeview), a couple of times before; however, I had just visited the neighborhood for an evening or an afternoon having traveled from somewhere else in or around Chicago. So, this time I decided to stay near the heart of Lakeview for the weekend.

So, after having arrived at O’Hare airport, I’d previously figured out how to take the Blue Line train (complete with bus shuttles because of weekend construction closures at two stops) to catch a local bus to the Lincoln Park/Lakeview area. And, as the bus rolled and stopped along W. Diversey Parkway, I got a chance to view the changes in the neighborhoods along the way. It was interesting to see how, block-by-block, the mostly residential neighborhoods grew more economically and racially diverse as we neared Lake Avenue and Lake Michigan.

First Impressions

As we hit the lower border of Lakeview, where W. Diversey Parkway meets N. Clark and N. Broadway Streets, I immediately recognize where we are. I also chuckle to myself at my good fortune that my hotel sits among all these familiar and accessible coffee shops, chain restaurants and shops, like Starbucks, Panera’s and The Vitamin Shoppe.

The Inn at Lincoln Park

I get off the bus and walk the short block past the Starbucks to the entrance to The Inn at Lincoln Park (building at lowermost right hand corner of map). And, it lives up to everything it is and isn’t, based on descriptions I’d gleaned from the Internet. And, for me, it was perfect.

The young women behind the desk do their best to conceal their Northern European accents, while simultaneously speaking in hushed tones to one another in whatever their native language is. They check my bags till the room is ready and I head out to explore the Neighborhood.

Window Shopping

There’s a fairly extensive collection of men’s and women’s shoes at the corner store that I check out for this year’s Chelsea boot. I find a likely contender, but at $185.00 I decide to wait.

I then cross over to N. Clark St. to check out what movies are playing. I walk into the mall where the cinema is located and note that the EatZie’s cafeteria style gourmet food shop that sat at the base of the mall is closed, out of business. That seems weird. The last time I was there I got a pastry and coffee and toured the place that seemed bustling and successful and a great option in a neighborhood that’s filled primarily with what are more likely food options you’d find in a suburban strip mall.

When I leave the mall I cross N. Clark Street and head toward N. Halsted. At the corner of N. Halsted and N. Clark Streets there’s another mall with a Marshall’s, DSW and Bed and Bath or Linen’s and Things. So, I search for the elusive Chelsea boot there, too, to no avail. So, it’s back on the streets searching for adventure!

Halsted’s for Lunch

By this time, I’m famished and become increasingly hungry as I eye a menu here and there for one eatery or another. I finally stumble upon Halsted’s and am pleased to find that they have a more than passable lunch menu and settle on a this really good barbecue chicken with cole slaw roll up with a side field greens salad with a low-cal (and tasty) balsamic vinaigrette dressing and an iced tea with lemon. My server is pleasant, helpful and cute. I find this never hurts, particularly at a Gay establishment in a Gay neighborhood.

(Click the image to go to Halsted’s Bar & Grill site. There’s some obligatory pop music playing, so beware!)

A Movie

After venturing back to the hotel to inspect my room (which, again, is everything I expect and more . . . it’s got a great Victorian-kitschy renovation-feel), after my late lunch, I head to the corner to the cinema. Since I’d recently seen “The Duchess” (loved it! . . . again, for everything it was and wasn’t!), the only other movie that seemed remotely interesting to me was the documentary, “Trouble the Water.” I won’t even try to do it justice here, but suffice it to say it’s stunning to see the Katrina Hurricane story through the eyes of a poor, yet highly creative, resourceful and empathetic, African-American woman. I mean, talk about walking in someone else’s shoes for a day! You get to wear hers for more than a year. Long and short of it, it really hit home to me just how much our country is comprised of such a wide range of haves and have-nots. And, how as a result, each one of us is treated differently. See it. It should pull you out of your comfort zone, if not your complacency.

(Click the image to go to the “Trouble the Water” website for the film.)

A Night on the Town

Then after “Trouble the Water,” I decided to lighten things up a bit and see just what the Boys in Boys Town do on a Saturday night. Essentially, I did a little bar hopping. Only “Cocktail” was new to me, though “Sidetrack” has grown (and is in an ‘under construction’ phase even now) in leaps and bounds. Anyway, I’d recommend them all just for a chance to see the differing crowds and venues. Then again, as more than a casual observer in this life, for me it’s all about the diversity!

Cocktail
(Click the image to go to the link about “Cocktail.”)

Sidetrack (Click the image to go to the link about “Sidetrack.”)

Spin
http://www.spin-nightclub.com/

So, after a spin around SPIN, I grabbed a slice of pizza at a local Italian restaurant on N. Broadway near The Inn at Lincoln Park and headed back to the room for a good night’s rest!

Day 2

After sleeping in and taking my time packing and planning out my day, I decided I’d grab something to eat when I left the hotel. I’d also decided that I’d venture on to the local Metro trains’ Brown Line to go to The Loop in downtown Chicago for a day of museum culture.

Diversey’s Conventional Diversity

As I hinted at before, W. Diversey Parkway at N. Clark and N. Broadway Streets contains a plethora of familiar chain stores and eateries that – like most of the United States now – provides an odd, sort of “home away from home” feel in even the most unfamiliar of U.S. cities and towns. So, though I’ve ventured into a Panera for lunch and a surprisingly good salad with salmon for dinner one evening in Hanover, MA while making one of my treks to Provincetown, I’d never had a breakfast there.

So, much to my surprise, the egg and bacon sandwich and coffee were actually a quite delicious and relatively speedy way to have a nice breakfast al fresco. I forgot to mention that the weather – all weekend – though not without some rain on Sunday, was altogether unseasonably warm and comfortable. So, I ate my breakfast on the little sidewalk patio set up outside Panera. It was a simple, yet wonderful start to an atypical Sunday for me.

Stumbling Upon Grant Park

Managing the Brown Line on the city’s Metro was’t too difficult either. Today, now that most cities require the purchase of passes through vending machines, it’s simple to spend only what you need to get from point A to point B. And, once I got off the Brown Line and headed toward Michigan Avenue, I became distracted by the view of Grant Park ahead of me and decided to explore it while the rain held off.

After living in Boston for so long, I forget just how big big cities like Chicago are. Luckily, though not quite snug enough for my tastes, I’ve a pair of Rockport loafers with those innersoles similar to good running and walking shoes that prove time and again more versatile than I’d imagined. They’re perfect for the office, but amazing for walking and walking and walking!

Stumbling Upon Museum Mall: The Field Museum

And, once I walked to the water, Lake Michigan, and drank in the view. I noticed this incredible Greek Revival building far to my right. I learned from my guide map that it was The Field Museum and was accompanied by the aquarium and planetarium to its left. As I turned my back on it, to head to the Art Institute of Chicago, I was compelled to turn back and walk toward it. The building alone is astonishing.

Once I actually came upon it, I walked up the center of the stairs of the center entrance (I even do this at work! There’s something about centering yourself on the center of a center entrance of a symmetrical classic piece of architecture that just feels so incredible to me). And, then I looked up. What an amazing view to stare up along the columns of that building’s façade and right straight to the peak of the pediment above!

And, even more impressive, is how well proportioned, planned and diverse the museum and its artifacts and exhibits are laid out. I remember being struck at – by contrast to the mess in politics and the world economy, etc., today – when man- and woman- kind want and decide to do something “right,” just how deliberately “right” they can do it. Again, there isn’t space to do it justice here, but check out their website by clicking on the image below and see the place for yourself if you can. It’s amazing!

(Click the image to go to The Field Museum’s Information page on their website.)

Off to the Chicago Architecture Foundation

By the time I’d explored The Field Museum and headed back toward Michigan Avenue to find the Chicago Architecture Foundation, I was beginning to lose steam – though not enthusiasm – from a lack of nourishment and more walking, walking, walking!

So, I did a cursory run through of what is basically their museum-like shop there and inquired about tours that I’d have to (hopefully!) explore another time before I headed across the street to The Art Institute of Chicago.

Definitely check out the CAF. It’s right there, but don’t expect a lot in and out of the space itself. I naively thought I’d be entering this old neo-classically designed granite block building filled with old architecture models and design books and old men and women in suits and dresses directing you to different exhibits and then sending you off with a “Shh . . . now!” and a wink. Ah! No wonder reality so often disappoints me: my expectations are idealized, too!

The Chicago Architecture Foundation
(Click on the image to visit the CAF's website.)

The Art Institute of Chicago

Though I was most excited and enthralled by The Field Museum (perhaps, because I was taken so much by surprised), I was nevertheless amazed by the Art Institute of Chicago.

What struck me as most unusual, in contrast to other fine art museums in New York and Boston, was the plethora of elements salvaged from Chicago architecture and the extent of fine art work donated to the museum and its fine collection of furniture and accessories from homes both local and around the world.

Before I started my exploration of the museum though, I had to eat! And, I was most pleasantly surprised to discover the Garden Restaurant in the museum. I was able to dine on a field green salad served with trout and accompanied by a thirst-quenching glass of perfectly chilled Chardonnay at the restaurant’s bar while taking in the views of both the cosmopolitan diners in the dining room and the gentle rain falling on the plants in the garden that was separated by wall comprised of mostly floor to ceiling glass. Now, THAT’S what I call civilized.

And, between the friendly bartender and a couple of the guards and guides in the museum, I got to see many of the fine works of art – up close and personal – that I never expected to see in my lifetime.

My three favorites are:

Nighthawks by Edward Hopper

Cow’s Skull with White Calico Roses by Georgia O’Keefe

A Sunday on La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat
This image (or other media file) is in the public domain because its copyright has expired.
This applies to the United States, Canada, the European Union and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 70 years.

And, then it was back outdoors to the Brown Line and my trip ‘home’ to Lakeview. And, after it had rained, the air turned slightly cooler and much drier. The sky looked like one of many from a Maxfield Parrish painting filled with Robin’s egg blue, chalk white, violet grays and all ranges of golds and yellows. As the Brown Line went from stop to stop I enjoyed watching the changing scenery: from the urban towers of The Loop back to the residential brick row houses near Lakeview.

When I got off at the Belmont stop, I headed toward N. Halsted for a final drink or two with the Boys.

Buck’s/Roscoe’s/Jack’s

At Buck’s Saloon, at had a Blue Moon with an orange twist and chatted with the guy selling raffle tickets for an AIDS organization. After I bought a couple of tickets and finished by beer, I headed to Roscoe’s. The bartender was friendly and cute. I had a nice conversation with a local there about his travels to Europe and South America. And then I rounded out my visit to Boys Town with a dinner at Jack’s on Halsted.

Buck's

Roscoe's

Jack's on Halsted

Bye for now . . .

As I walked back to the hotel to grab my bags and a cab, I wondered at how fortunate I am. And, not just at how fortunate my life has been, but – more importantly – how fortunate I am to have the wherewithal to “get” that this life is not a dress rehearsal and that I’m going to grab every last bit of it I can, while I can with all the gumption and gusto I can muster.

I hope I get to Lakeview “Boys Town” and Chicago again, but if I never do, I can say I have AND that I have lived . . . well!

On Being Single versus Being Coupled

2008-09-27T12:39:00.000-04:00

In my life, I've been fortunate enough to have enjoyed both long periods of being in an LTR with another man and spending many years as a single man, too.

As a result of both experiences, I often wonder which one I prefer. And, in an attempt to not make you - the reader - suffer an unintentional leaning toward egocentricity and navel-gazing, I plan to, instead, provide a thoughtful, and perhaps, even a meaningful contribution toward your own thoughts on the subject, should you be so inclined to entertain them.

On Being A Couple

Well, I'd actually been partnered earlier and for longer periods of time than I have been single. I often offer the observation that I pursued intimacy sort of backwards, chronologically I mean.

For example, from 21 to 28, I was in a LTR with another man for just about 7 years. Then I spent a year in the closet when I'd returned from NYC to room with my younger brother, (by three years). The details are a bit less cut and dried than that, but this summary is appropriate for this story. So, we'll leave it at that!

Then, during that two-year period of living in the closet with my brother, (eventually coming out to him during that period of time, which went well, BTW, since I can't recall any 'scenes' or unusually awkward moments with my brother immediately afterward or since), I met the man who I would then spend almost 12 years of my life with. And, though we would eventually break up, it is the relationship that exemplified the most wonderfully conventional, traditional and tangible expressions of being a couple.

We eventually bought "the house" together, fixed it up, broke up, reunited, sold "the house" and moved into the South End. And though all those wonderful conventions were mostly comforting and desirable, they eventually became a guise for me to explore my growing and maturing desires to find out who I really was as a grown man. And, for better or for worse, I realized I could not pursue that individual journey within the context of the relationship I found myself increasingly yearning to be free of. Yes. As cliché as it sounds, it really wasn't him - or even 'we' - but, it was me.

So after spending 9 months sleeping atop a sofa bed (since the space wasn't practical enough to actually open the sofa bed each night), I finally found my own fixer-upper in JP. The irony of that time period continues to follow me - though finally much less intensely so - into today.

Specifically, within an eight day period, with my ex- at my side, I found the condo I would eventually buy, then, on my own, met the man that would haunt my waking and dreaming states for much of the next eight years and - with him at my side - put an offer on the same condo.

And, that last man is the one that's touched me more deeply than any before or since. And, though I realized I touched him, too; in retrospect, I know that I never touched him as deeply or completely. And, now, that's okay. Sure, I still get slightly emotional about him, us and the future that I can still see, but will never be; I am now able to look back at it all and be grateful for both what was so wonderful about him and us, and grateful that I can finally see why it wouldn't work.

So, though I love the comfort of looking into another man's eyes and seeing unconditional love, safety, desire and the vulnerability that no one else gets to see, I, too, will never forget the first time you look into those same eyes and suddenly see the wall has gone up, the window into his vulnerability has been shuttered up and never will the two of us share the same deep love, trust and commitment we'd silently agreed to so long ago.

And, I've been on both sides of that. I've been the one to leave and initiate potential pain; and, I've been the one left behind. And, to be completely clinical about it, truthfully, leaving - though almost as painful - is, ultimately, easier than being the one left behind. The one leaving has prepared himself. The one being left behind - regardless of how obvious or inevitable the issues and differences and ultimate separation might be - is never prepared for what is about to happen: the pulling of the window blind, the shutting of the door to a certain part of the other's heart, the loosing of the rope from the mooring of the boat that you now watch slip away with only one person aboard, the other.

And, usually - but, eventually - you become 'friends', if you're really lucky. I've been lucky once, with the first. Or, you may be able to be civil, but always realize there's a river of pain passing between you that even the strained smiles and laughter can never bridge. And, with others - like my last, at least for now - there's the largest and stormiest ocean that may forever separate us. But, I don't regret any of it. I've learned much from them all. And, I can now turn my back on the stormy sea and see off into a bright, sun-filled future filled with family, friends and opportunity.

On Being Single

For me, it took years but, I've finally learned to enjoy being single. The freedom - that once symbolized terror for me - is now something I value immensely.

It's the simple things like being able to leave dishes on the counter overnight or stay up till midnight listening to music alone or being able to spontaneously do most whatever I like whenever I like that I appreciated more than anything else about being single now.

Independence has been the greatest gift that my being single has given to me. I used to despair at being alone. I used to think there was something wrong with that. But, now I embrace it.

And, as a romantic, I get to express that side of me more. I'm a guy who loves flowers. I used to love to give them to the one man I knew - initially - appreciated them (until I sensed he 'expected' them, but didn't appreciate where they were coming from anymore). So, I can now treat myself to them when I wish.

I've learned to sleep alone and take advantage of the entire bed for myself. I can put the bed sheets on that I want and not be criticized because they're bright pink, orange, brown and yellow thin stripes or Ralph Lauren white and sage roses or simple summer, sky blue and lime green pinstripes on a white background. I can layer the cotton blanket, wool blanket and down comforter and settle in on a cold winter's night and not worry about the cold. Or, in summer, I can simply lie in bed with only a top sheet to cover me.

I enjoy the quiet now. I get to listen to my music whenever I want. I can watch the old movies that I like whenever I like.

Being Single or Being Coupled: So, Which Is Better?

Simply put, neither being single or being part of a couple is 'better' than the other. I know that's obvious. But, I too know that there are preferences and desires.

Truth be told, no, I don't want to be single. But, I'd rather be single than be in a relationship I can not be proud of.

So, though I miss waking up and seeing the face of the man I love next to me, I'd much rather wake up alone and know that I have yet another day ahead of me where I might finally meet the man I am supposed to share the rest of this life with or that I will end up returning to my bed alone, but after having lived another wonderful day uncompromisingly and deliberately single.

Mom & Dad & (of course) ME!

2008-08-06T19:17:00.006-04:00

This September my mom turns 70, my dad turns 73 and they'll celebrate their 50th anniversary.

I love my parents and I just wanted to publish that fact.

Today I had my annual physical with my PCP. Though I haven't yet had my lab work done, I'm actually in good health. I'm somewhat overweight, but I'm "okay" with that for now. After a hectic, stressful, yet rewarding spring and early summer, I decided to let myself kind of coast for the summer.

Since I injured my shoulder on Friday, May 30, while trying to rectify the failing of the wall behind my new, snazzy wall bed (one should never single-handedly attempt to rip a large piece of furniture attached to the wall off the wall, no matter how compromised it looks), I haven't been able to do any resistance training. And, after an MRI last Tuesday, July 28, I confirmed that I've torn cartilage in my left shoulder. I meet with the Orthopedist tomorrow to figure out what to do next.

Anyway, I've started running again. It's been a rewarding challenge. I weighed in at 201 lbs. today during my annual check-up. My highest weight ever was 204 lbs. A year ago I was around 186 lbs. Whatever?! Right now, I just can't wrap my head around all that's happened and happening these days. And, I can't seem to shut any of it out. So, I'm only dealing with what I can handle at the moment. And, in the order of my many priorities, my weight is out there somewhere, but nowhere near the top. It's frustrating, but something I have to live with for the time being. At least I'm running again!

Also, during my annual physical – as the last portion of it, actually – my PCP asks: "So, do you have any questions about 'safe sex'." and I have an emotional breakdown. I can't even begin to list the litany of woes that spilled out of my mouth, but suffice it to say it had everything and anything to do with self-image, intimacy issues, commitment, unrequited and unresolved past loves, etc., etc., blah, blah, BLAHHH!!!!!

But, as it turns out, according to my truly fabulous and wonderful PCP, this is actually a healthy response to all the stressful issues I've had to deal with over the past several months in particular, but over the past year or so, too, generally.

So, let's get back to my parents.

I went to a family wedding over the weekend. Our presence was a sort of 'command performance.' I was sort of dreading it, but also – strangely, for me – looking forward to it, too. And, we were awesome! It was an 'adults only' attendance, so my nieces and nephews weren't there, but it was wonderful to sit at a table with my mom and dad to my right and my sister, brother-in-law, sister-in-law and brother to my left.

Most wonderful to me is that we actually like one another . . . a lot! And, I'm not sure how many more of these types of appearance we'll all be able to make together. BUT, I do know how f--king grateful I am that we all love one another as much as we do.

My siblings and their spouses, for example, asked me to join them when they got up to dance a few times. It was great! I mean, at the moment, I don't have the flexibility and endurance I had only a year ago, but I could still "cut a rug" with the best of them.

And, of course, I think a huge part of my emotional breakdown with my PCP this morning was around being single and not having that significant other.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not feeling sorry for myself or wallowing in self-pity about my single-dom. In fact, most often these days I'm celebrating it. But, the 'safe sex' question posed by my PCP just ripped me open.

As I told him, I can have sex whenever I want (just about!), but I'm really more interested in exploring physical intimacy with someone. I'm so tired of sex for sex sake. (NOT that I have it very often at all these days. Remember, "fat" is a great defense mechanism!)

So, I'm busy planning and preparing/creating invitations and accompanying music for a DVD dedication presentation of my mom for her 70th birthday. I'm cherishing every old song I listen to that reminds me of mom and studying every old photo of her any my family members that we're reviewing to include in the DVD slide presentation honoring her 70th birthday and her life and her gifts to the world. And, it makes me a bit wistful, but forever grateful.

Once again, I realize I am one of the luckiest people on earth. And, maybe I'll never find "Mr. Right," but I am sure that I have lived my life fully, completely, deliberately, passionately and without regret. It's like I said to my PCP today (who I LOVE, by the way): "Well, at least I know for sure I will NOT be one of those people lying on my deathbed stating: 'If only I . . . '." Nope! Not me.

And, though I – at the relatively young age of 48 – have done EVERYTHING I wanted to do in my life, I have a sneaking suspicion there are still many wonderful adventures lying ahead for me.

So, to Mom and Dad: I love you. I am grateful, honored and privileged to have you as my parents. And, I'm most grateful that you both wanted to have children, wanted to be parents and believed that the world is a worthwhile place to 'be.'

God bless . . .

Beautiful . . .

2008-07-07T21:48:00.004-04:00

Walking from the garage to the back door, I was struck by the beauty of the blue hydrangea bushes in full bloom near the corner to the front walkway of the cottage behind the main house in my condominium 'complex'. I wanted to clip a few and bring them into the house, but almost didn't, since they reminded me of "The Love of My Lives" and his love for blue hydrangeas. But, I got over that!

In fact, I thought of the clipping and placement of those flowers in my home as an homage to him. I suppose some think it strange that I have such a fascination with this lost love, but how he touched me remains a gift to me. So, partly inspired by a decorating magazine article I was reading this past weekend, I decided to clip three stems of hydrangea and place them in one of the ivory, mid-century planters I collect.

Then, inspired by my dear friend, Kristin, I came home from our brief dinner together in the outdoor patio at the corner pub and wrote down this song . . .

Violet and Blue

I clipped some flowers from the yard.
I placed them in a cream-white vase.
A famous bright hydrangea blue.
Powder puffs of violet hue.

Of course, I picked them for you.
They were your favorite flowers. True.
So full and colorful like you.
They'll always remind me of you.

(Chorus)
Now there are no tears to hide.
There are no more sad goodbyes.
For you are never far away.
In my heart you'll always stay.

I wish I could bring them to you,
these big bright balls of violet-blue.
Perhaps they'd mean something to you.
After all they're meant for you.

Now I remember your bright smile,
and the laughter all the while
you were slipping from my hand
like raindrops falling on the sand.

(Chorus)
Now there are no tears to hide.
There are no more sad goodbyes.
For you are never far away.
In my heart you'll always stay.
Though you were slipping from my hand
like tear drops falling to the sand,
like raindrops falling to the ground
to you I am forever bound.

Better Days

2008-06-23T18:00:00.012-04:00

Better Days
(Words by Carole Bayer Sager, Music by Melissa Manchester)

Well, another day has come.
After all is said and done,
you are here as you were before.

‘Cause it feels as if we’ve been
through it all and back again.
Now I know there’ll be something more.

CHORUS
No more tears left to hide.
We have made it through a long and lonely night.
Better Days on our side.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.

And, in perfect time we’ll flow.
Sometimes up and down we’ll go,
like the ring in a carousel.

CHORUS
No more tears left to hide.
We have made it through a long and lonely night.
Better Days on our side.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.
Oo-ooh . . .
No more tears left to hide.
We have made it through a long and lonely night.
Better Days on our side.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.
No more tears left to hide.
We have made it through a long and lonely night.
Better Days on our side.
Oh, it looks as though we’re doing something right.

Me

Well, I am whole now. At 48 years of age, I’ve finally come of age. Very little can shake me now. Sure. I have my moments, but that’s part of the story. They are just that: moments.

The past three months have been a whirlwind. And, nearing the end of this phase, I see myself coming out whole, unshaken and, hopefully, terminally together. LOL!

I’ll try to spare you the long list of all the wonder I’ve been through these past several months, but I have to share the highlights, since they’re what’s brought me here: a place of peace.

Home

Since it became apparent that I was not going to sell my condo in JP and move on to something bigger and better (whatever that means?!), I decided to refinance into a 30-year fixed mortgage. I also decided to ‘come clean’, grow up, fess up and finally buy out my ex’s portion of my condo in Provincetown.

So, now I’ve near doubled my housing expenses, but I’m wholly responsible for them, too.

Independence has its price, but it is worth every penny.

Work

As we all know – to some extent or another – the current economy and our increasingly and rapidly changing world, continues to confuse, if not confound, most industries today. So, for me, that means – once again – going through another reorganization at work.

In fact, immediately before leaving work to close on my JP refinance, I was handed a 30-day termination notice at work (audible “GASP!” here); however, I was barely moved. I did know that my position was being terminated, and that I would receive a termination letter, and that I had an opportunity to seek other employment with the company, but all that happened after I had put the wheels in motion to refinance my homes in JP and Provincetown.

I put it all in God’s hands. And, He seems to be doing an awesome job. I hope to report soon that I will get the position I’m in the midst of interviewing for now.

Peace and Wellbeing

You see, a year ago I went through another re-org, too. I kept myself ‘busy’ by finally recording my first CD and then partying like there was no tomorrow. I was running scared.

But, sometime this past spring, as it became apparent that work was going to change drastically again, I decided to remain calm. I mean, physically and emotionally, I could not allow myself to come unglued again. So, I decided – this time – to put it all in God’s hands.

Seeing the Light

For months I waited to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I see it now. And, as it turns out, this time it is not the light from an oncoming train, but instead the pure light of love, peace of mind and joy of heart.

Three Scenarios

Pragmatically, I’ve been running three scenarios through my head:

Scenario One: Status Quo, More or Less
I’d find other employment with my company and be able to keep both of homes.

Scenario Two: Change
I’d take my severance, spend two months on the beach, then rent out my place in JP and finally make the move to somewhere warm I increasingly know I have to eventually make.

Scenario Three: Letting Go
I’d default on my loans. I’d declare bankruptcy. And, I’d go into the Witness Protection Program and get a new identity.

And, every time I run these scenarios through my head, I see myself coming out ‘whole’.

It’s a great feeling to know that you will be “OK”, regardless.

To sum it all up, I feel like nothing can harm me know. Of course, or perhaps, that’s delusional, but I firmly believe it’s also a state of mind. It is the definition of wellbeing. It turns out, ‘what’ we believe really does ‘become’ ‘how’ we live. You want to live a peaceful life, be peace filled.

The Love of My Lives

There’s been the CD, the subsequent streaming of “I Will Always Love You” on Allison Hammond’s page WMVY’s website and the recent Bay Windows article about the “When He Kissed Me” reading with the page one reference and page three article with the photo with me in the upper right hand corner. But, there’s been no contact with The Love of My Lives since last November. Then it happened.

Serendipity and Synchronicity

And just as I began to see the stagnation and immobility of all the minor and major life events that had been challenging me and holding me back over these past few months finally begin to move – and all in positive directions – it happened.

It was as if the cosmos was placing a cherry on top of the figurative, whipped cream and strawberry-topped, vanilla sundae that is my life. I was paying attention and I saw him: The Love of My Lives. And, I smiled.

On the day, Wednesday, June 18, of the full moon in Sagittarius – and the day before Mercury would, at last and again, turn direct – I was sitting on one of the benches that line the bank of windows that face Chandler Street at the South End bar, Fritz. And while I soaked up the sun’s rays streaming over the rooftop across the intersection and through the opened windows at Fritz, I saw him walking south on the far side of Berkeley Street toward the heart of the South End. It was unremarkably remarkable. And, I smiled.

And, after he’d passed I sat there waiting for my friend and pondered – just for a brief, sanity-checking moment – whether I should text The Love of My Lives. I smiled and went for it.

Love has been my passer by . . .

Now, The Love of My Lives and I met almost nine years ago now via one of the personals sites. And, one of our first bonding moments was over the folk singer/songwriter Nanci Griffith. So, when I decided to text him, I opened my text message with the first line of the following song lyric that in the words of another songwriter captures most closely how I feel about him. And, since his father’s passing, the reference to “your father’s tie . . . ”, only gains greater poignancy.

Always Will
(Words and Music by Nanci Griffith)

I saw you on the avenue.
You looked so tired and a little blue.
You were in your Sunday best,
your father’s tie upon your chest.

CHORUS
Hey, you always stood me still.
And hey, you Always Will.

In the corridor of one hotel,
we once crossed paths I recall it well.
Voices in an empty hall,
slamming doors and hearts that fall.

CHORUS
Hey, you always stood me still.
And hey, you Always Will.

Always Will
Always Will
Hey . . .

Always Will
Always Will
Hey . . .

Love has been my passer by.
I stood too still to catch your eye.
There out on the avenue – in your father’s tie –
I’ll remember you.

CHORUS
Hey, you always stood me still.
And hey, you Always Will.
Hey, you always stood me still.
And hey, you Always Will.
Hey, you Always Will . . .

So, the text message I draft on my cell phone reads:

“I saw you on the
avenue…” I think that was
you I just saw on
Berkeley. You look well. I
hope you are. I am. Bye.
=:-)

And, I send it having no idea whether he’ll respond or not, or if he does, if it will be positive or not.

Then I few minutes pass and I feel my phone vibrate in my left pants pocket where I had slipped it back after sending the text. I pull it out and open it, wondering whether it’s: A) my friend texting me that he’s on his way or whether it might be B) The Love of My Lives. And, it’s B.

He texts:

Yup street though, not
ave! Glad u r well

And, I respond with:

=:-)

And it’s done. We’re done, for now . . .

And, I smile. And, I gratefully accept it and let it go.

And, I then realize everything is coming together. I’m truly growing up. I’m truly letting go. And, I’m finally not trying to pin things on things to justify my feelings. I’m letting go . . .

The cosmos and my higher power winked at me. They’ve patted me on the back, slapped me on the behind and, once again, have gently pushed me on my way.

I don’t know, perhaps life really doesn’t have any meaning. But, mine does. And, that’s because I choose to believe that life, my life, does have meaning. And, because of that belief I am constantly rewarded and fulfilled.

To the Love of My Lives, again: “Thank you. And ‘I Will Always Love You’”

I Will Always Love You
(Words and Music by Lance Hatch)

Looking at you I see the truth.
I see the truth in all you do.
Looking at you I understand
just what it takes to be your man.
Looking at you I see the truth:
That love is all we need.

Your bright baby blues are laced with gold.
They’re laced with gold is one thing I know.
Your bright baby blues are all I see.
They’re all I need to get me through.
Your bright baby blues that are laced with gold,
they tell me what you need.

CHORUS
And I Will Always Love You.
I’ll do my best to never make you cry.
Yes. I Will Always Love You.
I’ll love you till I die.

(BRIDGE)

When you’re frightened, think of me.
Thinking ‘bout me is all you’ll need.
When you’re lonely, when you’re blue,
thinkin’ about me. That’s what you should do.
When you’re frightened, think of me.
Soon I’ll be by your side.

CHORUS
And I Will Always Love You.
I’ll do my best to never make you cry.
Yes. I Will Always Love You.
I’ll love you till I die.
I’ll love you till I die.
I’ll love you till . . . I die.

And, to you, whoever you are who may be reading this, Godspeed.

I am whole.

Nice Guys DO Finish First!

2008-05-13T22:26:00.010-04:00

I learned a couple of months ago about the making of the now recently released "Speed Racer" movie. Like so many boys - kids - my age, watching Speed Racer was as much a necessary after school activity as doing homework.

And, recently I was in a Target (Tar-GAY) and happened past an end-cap of DVDs and my eyes landed on a lower shelf where I spotted a DVD of several episodes from the original "Speed Racer" television series. I bought it. I went home and watched a couple of episodes before I had to leave for a previously planned social engagement. I loved it!

I had forgotten just how much I loved "Speed Racer" as a seven-year old kid. And, then there was Racer X. You know, Speed's older brother who hid his existence from his family after he was supposedly killed in a suspicious accident in a mysterious race. I emulated Speed. I loved Racer X.

Okay. I EMULATE Speed and I still love Racer X. I think I'm looking for Racer X . . . BUT, let's not go there . . .

Instead, let's talk about the movie. It's kick ass fun! Some of my favorite parts include the diversity of the cast of characters. The best part might just have been "Trixie" (played by Christina Ricci) getting the chance to drive in the final race of the film for a short bit.

The special effects were quite fun, too. Another favorite aspect of the film, was the almost literal copy of some of the effects used in the animated series. For example, there were all those shots of the characters from the side sliding across the screen in layers moving from the foreground in one shot to the background in the next.

And, the young actor who played Spritle with his side kick, Chim-Chim, the chimpanzee, were an almost carbon copy of the characters in the animated series.

Susan Sarandon's appearance as Mrs. Racer was refreshing. And, her substantial acting talents were apparent in the scene where she describes to Speed her immense pride in her son's accomplishments. Even in obvious "eye candy," her formidable talent shines through.

All-in-all, I highly recommend it. And, (if you know me well this will not be surprising!), I had a few moments where tears welled up in my eyes. I guess some would call me a blatant sentimentalist, but - you know - at 48 years of age, I couldn't get past how I still have my dreams, hopes and desires. Watching Speed - even now - I see myself: young (at heart!), idealistic with a healthy respect for 'speed.' Hey. I don't drive a Mazda Miata for nothin'!

Yeah . . . "Go Speed Racer! Go Speed Racer! Go Speed Racer! Go!!!"

DIY Wall Bed

2008-04-29T20:58:00.005-04:00

Gosh! I can't believe I've been so busy that I haven't updated my Blog since March 31!

Oh well! Life IS good!

So, though I've lots of other good stuff to comment on, I feel I have to dig back a few weeks to when I stumbled upon online instructions for building a wall bed. I decided that I wanted to put a Murphy Bed in my condo in P-town.

With a referral from a friend, I decided I wanted a $7,000.00 Clei bed from the UK. Well, of course I realized I couldn't justify that. So, I instead found instructions for a bed on the Internet that would cost $395.00 to build (sans mattress).

So, from the day of conception to completion, I spent 9 days. Of course, this took some cooperation from vendors and family.

I've never been to a hardware store and found all the stuff I needed. Well, this time, I lucked out. I found everything.

Then, two days later on a Wednesday I met my dad and bought the rest of the stuff at IKEA and ordered a mattress from Sleepys.

It all worked out.

Below's a before and after photo of the space where the wall bed is.

BTW, I'm still doing music, have had an amazing trip to Wilmington, NC, but NOT the time to do everything I want . . . yet, I'm eating more organic foods . . . go figure?!

Here are the photos . . . enjoy!

Before . . .

After . . .

We'll Always . . .

2008-03-31T22:52:00.003-04:00

We’ll Always . . .

(Monday, March 31, 2008 -10:05-10:29PM)

The sun rises before our eyes.
The black gold turns to orange
rising above a midnight
morning sky.

I reach for a memory I’ve seen:
the chance to see you again . . .
in a place you and I
have always been.

Suddenly, the dawn begins to end
and dark turns into the light
that will shine on you and me,
always again.

Then, I will watch you walk away
to a place I’ll never see;
but, a place I know you somehow,
you somehow need to be.

CHORUS:

But, We’ll Always have a place
. . . a place that no one else can see.
We’ll Always have a time
where no one else can be.
We’ll Always have each other
and We’ll Always have the memory . . .
(a memory . . . )
where I’ll always hear you calling out to me.

The moon will fade before our eyes.
The harsh daylight will remind us
that a dove will always,
always serve to remind.

Then you will make me walk this way . . .
to a place I cannot be
yet, a place we’ll always
be remembering.

CHORUS:

But, we will always have a place
. . . a place that no one else can see.
We’ll always have a time
where no one else can be.
We’ll always have each other
and we’ll always have the memory . . .
(a memory . . . )
where I’ll always hear you calling out to me.

The "Wish We Had A Child" Video

2008-03-17T00:35:00.010-04:00

Well, here's my (belated, by 30 minutes!) birthday gift to you all. (I make it a point to give gifts on my birthday, as well as receive them!)

I would have had this to you all earlier (since I actually compiled the clip between 10:00 and 11:30 AM Sunday morning), BUT I couldn't figure out the right file format (I've nailed it now!).

Anyway, after a wonderful day spent first by making my first video (from last night's gig at Perk's), having a great birthday brunch with my buddy Adam at Union (Thanks again, Adam!), seeing "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" (again, with Adam . . . Amy Adams is quickly becoming my new favorite actress), then back to Union to have a complimentary birthday cocktail from our buddy-waiter, Tim, before heading to The Audubon restaurant near the Fenway to have a drink with Adam and his partner, Mikhail, AND finally having a wonderful birthday dinner cooked by my dear friend, Carolyn, (AWESOME homemade chocolate cake AND homemade almond ice cream!), I got home and was determined to get this video posted on You Tube.

I did it . . . all of it . . . with a little help from my friends. Enjoy!

This week . . .

2008-03-15T08:37:00.002-04:00

Let's see . . . Spitzer gets caught paying (way too much) for extramarital sex (something no one -- in my mind should pay for -- if you accidentally find yourself emotionally involved at the same time, you'll pay a high price, surely enough!). And, he's trapped, primarily, because of a law he (I believe conjured up) that would track unusual activity in bank accounts as a way to flag potential terrorist activity.

Poor Geraldine Ferraro still can't get out of her own way. Just in case this isn't clear, she's not a racist; however, her earnestness -- and pure stubbornness -- do manage to be her undoing. Even when she tries to hold back it doesn't seem to work, because she then looks like she's trying too hard or is hiding something.

Obama, hmm, I still have no idea who he 'really' is.

Me? Well, we've got our final gig (for the time being) at Perk's Coffee House in Norwood, MA tonight. We've got the basic rhythm section that "The Flying Cowboys'" foundation is built on plus a little sweetener from Mr. Curt of The Mr. Curt Ensemble, Mr. Ray ("CabaRay") Dalere on additional percussion and, my buddy, Ms. Kristin Mountcastle, previewing one of her songs that I'll be accompanying her on with some shared vocals. And, I'll be opening the gig with several cover songs that inspired me to do what I do. Can't wait!

And, tomorrow I turn 48. I can't quite believe it. I'm rarely struck by 'milestone' birthdays. I mean, they're expected. But, I'm somehow always caught off guard by the "3's" and "8's," since they make clear just how close you are to the "5's" and "0's." Don't get me wrong here! I'm not 'upset' about it. In fact, overall, I embrace the march of time; however, I'm also cognizant of the relative significance.

And, I re-realized a few years ago what five "and a half" year olds embrace: that once you 'hit' your birthday, you're actually in your 'next' year. So, I'm 48 for a moment (March 16, 2008 at 7:00 AM EST, to be exact), then it's off to the adventures of what my 49th year will surely have in store for me.

March, true to form, has entered as a Lion. I can't wait till it leaves like a Lamb. Spring is coming . . . that's reassuring . . . and this year, seems even more unusually, remarkably overdue. My Mom reported that the Snowdrops were budding in her yard last weekend. Once they bloom, I'll know, for sure, that spring -- like the gifts granted as the result of believing in 'hope' and having 'faith' -- will soon arrive and set the stage with all her wonderful color, scents, light and warmth. Welcome . . .

Photos From My CD Release Party - 2/18/08

2008-02-22T01:30:00.009-05:00

Well, I think these photos speak for themselves. My CD Release Party for "The J Sessions - Wishin'" held at Boston's Club Café was an amazing success. I think I speak for everyone in attendance when I say it was an awesome night! I am blessed and grateful. Thanks again to everyone for making it such a wonderful night for me. Enjoy!

Gratitude . . .

2008-01-23T23:14:00.001-05:00

Gosh! I've been so busy and my life's been so wonderfully full that I've not had an opportunity to post a 'meaningful' post in several weeks. I'm sure some of you are grateful for that and more than a few of you have been disappointed. Sorry! But, life intervenes . . . and goes on!

CD Release Party - Rescheduled: Monday, February 18, 2008 - President's Day

Well, upon the advice of the management at Club Café, we canceled and then rescheduled the CD Release Party for my little collection of cowboy songs: "The J Sessions - Wishin'."

We're still convening at Club Café. We've moved the start time up to 7:00 PM. And, we're rehearsing. The band should be TIGHT! I am looking forward to it. It's not everyday an aging gay man gets to realize his dream to be a 'rock star.' =;-) I am grateful . . .

Bay Windows Ad

Besides all THAT! I had a GREAT weekend in Provincetown. NO! I didn't 'hook up' or get . . . well, you know where I was headed here . . . Instead, I treated myself really well. The weekend I'd been creatively visualizing 'happened.'

I 'recreated' a two-cheese, bacon and caramelized onion pizza from Picco on Columbus Avenue in the South End, upon my arrival at "The Little Respite" in P-town on Friday night.

Saturday, I spoke to a good, but a friend I rarely get to speak with, never mind, meet up with. BUT, as always, we had a wonder-filled conversation and have made plans to meet up in March. I'm looking forward to it. Ahh! The trouble with being friends with other 'overachievers' is that you don't have much free time to spend together. Yes! There could be worse problems in life.

Also, on Saturday, I spoke with good friends Steven and Michael. They, too, were enjoying the respite. I also met up with Nancy Yeaw of Muir Music. I bought Queen Latifah's latest CD of modern classics. She's an amazing spirit. "Travelin' Light" is definitely a disc you should consider. I was pleased to hear such renditions of classics from my childhood and adolescence that include: Phoebe Snow's "Poetry Man," 10 cc's "I'm Not In Love" and The Pointer Sisters' classic "Betcha Got A Chick (On The Side)." Hot and sassy! Check it out . . .

Travelin' Light - The Queen

I also bought "A Star Is Born" with Judy Garland and James Mason from Nancy. I love that movie and realized I hadn't added it to my collection yet.

The special features include 3 alternate versions of the "The Man That Got Away" musical number that is a cornerstone of the film.

It's amazing to see the energy and focus spent on several takes of "The Man That Got Away" over six months of filming. It's always the same set, essentially, and it is the same September 4, 1953 audio recording, BUT the expense and effort that went into the different 'paintings' of the set and Judy's several different costumes and coifs (not to mention the use of an upright piano AND then grand piano) is a mid-20th century phenomenon to see.

Some people can't afford a pot to piss in, BUT there's always a segment of our popular culture that we encourage to overindulge. I'm conflicted about this exhibition of overindulgence, yet - ultimately - I'm titillated by it. I have to admit that.

Ultimately, again . . . see it!

Judy's "The Man That Got Away" (Final Cut)

Then I spent Sunday rehearsing for the CD Release Party, making another breakfast of bacon and eggs and heading out of P-town for a joyride and a movie!

So, when in P-town, your movie theater options are limited. I ended up going to Wellfleet to the cinema there and saw "Cloverfield".

The audience consisted of 'yours truly' and a couple sitting up in the back of the theater. I LOVED that! I really enjoy seeing movies meant for the 'big screen' when the theater is empty. I like to imagine I've my own private screening. Ultimately, the movie was VERY cool.

I never go to movies like "Cloverfield," but I'm glad I did. What a hoot! Who knew?! And, once again, I'm not giving it away . . . and, you should consider seeing it.

Cloverfield

Go Pats!

Well, after seeing "Cloverfield" and heading to Herring Cove to 'touch' the ocean, I headed home and made a 'sweet' dinner of filet mignon with melted Gorgonzola cheese (atop a pad of butter . . . mm-mm!) with baked red bliss potatos, green beans, a fresh salad and a glass of Cabernet. And, I caught the last half of the Pats game. Awesome!

After that, I headed to The Porch Bar at The Gifford House. As always, I enjoyed the bartender's company. And, I met a couple of new locals and reconnected with Thirsty Burlington. It was a great evening, part of a great weekend, in the dead of a New England Winter in Provincetown.

Thirsty? Yes! Thirsty Burlington!

Monday, I played more music and then cleaned, cleaned, cleaned my space. After a dinner of leftovers, I packed up and headed pack to Boston around 8:45 PM. Mmm . . . what a great weekend. I am blessed . . . and, I like spending time alone! Who knew?! I'm great company after all . . . =;-)

Goodbye . . . Hello

2007-12-31T10:32:00.000-05:00

The "Wonder" Days (Dennisport, MA - June 2007)

As 2007 winds down and 2008 sits eagerly waiting in the wings, I want to give thanks for and acknowledge all the wonder that manifested in my life in 2007.

Goodbye to . . .

the many ex-coworkers who had to move on in 2007.

"the love of my lives" (again) . . .
and his father.

16 lbs.

Mom's gingerbread cookies . . . aging takes another toll, but the good memories will far outlive the little brown men with the white frosting faces and trim and cinnamon dot buttons! Thanks, Mom.

Hello to . . .

the recording of my first CD.
the many talented musicians, producers, engineer, photographers, THE stylist, friends and, most of all, family who made its recording, not just possible, but wonderful.

the new men I met this year . . . thank you for your companionship, kindness, loyalty, affection, sense of humor, and, when needed, a shoulder now and then. I love you.

Blogging! For better or worse, I've found my niche. Gotta love it! LOL!

the stretching station at the gym. My back has a new friend. =:-)

John Kinney at Stevie Nick's Official Website for posting an acknowledgment of my cover version of Stevie's "Rose Garden" on the 'Cover songs' page on http://www.nicksfix.com

2008

So, what will 2008 bring? I have a feeling it will bring many wonderful things to the many people I know and love.

For me? Well, I predict it will be a big year for personal growth and change. As anyone who knows me well can attest to, I live with just one foot barely in this third-dimensional plane and my heart and head clearly in the next one and always in the clouds (BUT, my castles are always built on terra firma).

As Tom Petty wrote:

Time To Move On
It's time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It's time to move on, it's time to get going

Broken skyline, movin' through the airport
She's an honest defector
Conscientious objector
Now her own protector

Broken skyline, which way to love land
Which way to something better
Which way to forgiveness
Which way do I go

Time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It's time to move on, it's time to get going

Sometime later, getting the words wrong
Wasting the meaning and losing the rhyme
Nauseous adrenaline
Like breakin' up a dogfight
Like a deer in the headlights
Frozen in real time
I'm losing my mind

It's time to move on, time to get going
What lies ahead, I have no way of knowing
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing
It's time to move on, it's time to get going

Unabashed Sentimentality: A Hit!

2007-12-09T23:46:00.000-05:00

For One More Day

I don’t read much. And, as you all know by now, I don’t watch much TV.

Tonight, at my mother’s suggestion, I watched the “TV Movie” version of Mitch Albom’s “For One More Day” with Michael Imperioli and Ellen Burstyn.

“The Love of My Lives” turned me onto Mitch Albom, indirectly. He’d read “Tuesday’s With Morrie.” It came up in conversation one day. I’ve yet to read it. And then, my cousin, Amy, recommended “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”. I was hooked.

First, since I don’t read that much or watch that much television, perhaps I’m jaded, BUT the TV movie adaptation amazingly captured what I saw in my head when I read the book. I don’t think I’ve ever had that experience before.

Perspective

I read “For One More Day” – when I read most books – while flying 35,000 miles above the earth, (BTW, I thought the “35,000 Mile High Club” was a Book Club – another reason I’m still single, BUT – aeronautically – I’m still relatively well-read!).

(I read it on my trip to Mesa, AZ, for “THE Interview” for the “Director” position I did not get, BUT somehow resulted in the same compensation for a job entitled: “Manager, Project Management.” Ultimately, I think this means if I get laid off I won’t be eligible for as an attractive severance package. Whatever!!)

Well, I just stumbled onto reviews of the movie (from a “Google” search – “Surprise! Surprise!”) from a San Jose News Wire called “Mercury News” and “The New York Daily News,” etc., etc., etc. and they’re pandering to the production’s obvious sentimental bent.

I guess, as a culture, we’ve become so comfortable, smug and isolated, that any sincere expression of genuine love and affection within a fractured family unit gets only a ‘nod’ as being, at the very least, ‘sentimental.’

I’m still trying to understand what’s wrong with that word: sentimental. Has our “United States of America” culture become so ‘twisted’ that we can no longer acknowledge true, pure ‘love’ without bashing its face in first?! What’s with that?!

I mean, we’re a country at war with more than one country. We’ re a country lead by a soulless President who’s only created an environment that continually jeopardizes our ‘safety’ by ‘protecting’ us by antagonizing most of the rest of the known world. THAT’S INSANITY!!!

Anyway, I have to suggest that a viewing of “For One More Day” won’t make or break your world, BUT it might make you appreciate – not just your Mom and Dad more – BUT, just might make you appreciate a bunch of other people you may (or may not!) sometimes take for granted.

Stevie Nicks' "Rose Garden" - A Public Acknowledgment

2007-12-09T12:28:00.000-05:00

The preceding is an email I received from John Kinney, the web master of the Official Web Site of Stevie Nicks, "The Nicks Fix," in response to my sending him a request to add me to "The Nicks Fix" 'Cover Songs' page for my rendition of Stevie's "Rose Garden." I sent complimentary copies of the CD to both John and Stevie, too.

If you want to check out the acknowledgment, you'll need to click on, "The Nicks Fix," and then click on 'Cover Songs' to view the list.

I am grateful . . . now . . . let us see what time will tell . . . "and the days go by like a strand in the wind . . . "

www.lancehatch.com

The Tree, The Secret of Christmas, and a Letter

2007-12-01T06:03:00.000-05:00

The Tree

Yay! Today's the day! I'm up early and prepping to head to Mansfield, MA, to visit my sister and niece and borrow my brother-in-law's truck to head to Westport, MA (near New Bedford/Fall River) to cut my own fresh Christmas tree. I'll have my Christmas mix CDs with me, a 'tanker' (kind of mug) filled with my own version of a 'mocha' (Folger's French Roast with a Nestle's Hot Cocoa packet mixed in with fat free (whatever!) half and half . . . mm-mm!).

The cutting of the Christmas tree is a tradition I've upheld for the past seven or eight years. Several times (and the first time), I cut trees with "The Love of My Lives". And, my buddy Kristin and her girlfriend (and my friend!), Cindy even went with me one year to cut a fresh tree, since I didn't have any means (aka 'truck') to get the tree with. (If you've ever tried tying an 8 foot tree to a Miata's rag top (convertible) and driving 40 plus miles or so with it tied thusly, please share the story. I've never tried and never will.)

You see, the first couple of times I made this venture alone, I would be very melancholy. I would be thinking about how much I loved sharing the cutting of the Christmas tree with "The Love of My Lives" and wonder who he was choosing to spend his time with instead of with 'fabulous' me, so this year is very liberating for me.

Though I extended the invitation to him to join me in the adventure of cutting our own fresh Christmas trees again this year, I never heard back. I am giving him lots of space, since I realize he's got the new boyfriend, his father's recently passed, I gave him "The J Sessions - Wishin'" CD AND, most importantly, I, ALONE, can be overwhelming company. In fact, I may never hear from him again . . . or, it could be months, weeks, hours or days.

My point is, (though many of you think otherwise, because YOU'D deal with it otherwise), I'm at peace with it all.

I really do enjoy being alone. I love being with someone (or 'some ones') special, BUT I don't need to (OK! OK! Sometimes we all NEED to).

I just get it now. Sometimes we're meant to be alone and sometimes we're meant to be with someone. And, it turns out, both places are great places to 'be'.

So, today it's me, my memories, my spirit guides, my higher power, my Christmas CDs, my visit with my sister and niece and even some sprinklings of 'tears of joy' that are mine to experience during this year's experience of getting the freshly cut Christmas tree. I'm happy. I'm LUCKY. And, most importanly, I'm grateful for it all.

Here's the lyrics to "The Secret of Christmas". I discovered this gem, by Ella Fitzgerald, on this obscure Verve Christmas CD called "Have Yourself a Jazzy Little Christmas" and have been 'stunned' by its message ever since. If you can find the song, get it. LISTEN to it . . . listen to it . . .

The Secret of Christmas

It's not the glow you feel
when snow appears.
It's not the Christmas card
you've sent for years.
Not the joyful sound
when sleigh bells ring
or the merry songs
that children sing

The little gift you send
on Christmas day
will not bring back the friend
you've turned away.
So may I suggest
The Secret of Christmas
is not the things you do at Christmas time,
but the Christmas things you do
all year through?

Now, here's The Letter . . . "I wrote a letter to my love."

Hi Jay!

Can't wait! I'm up early to head out to get my tree today. You will be missed!
BUT, you won't be far from my mind and heart. It'll be a fun day. I'm used to
making this trip alone, too.

Anyway, I haven't heard from you (except I noticed you unsubscribed from my
lancehatch.com distribution list -- I'd appreciate the support, BUT I know how
you HATE distribution emails). SO, I just wanted to check in and wish you and
yours well. I hope you are all dealing well with your dad's passing during this
holiday season and know that his birthday's around this time of year, too.

I just had to let you know, that the day (the four hours, really!) of the
funeral were extremely intense for me. It didn't hit me till immediately after
the reception and through the following weekend and couple of weeks, BUT I did a
lot of grieving, too.

You see, you all had had a year or more of prepping for it. For me, well, I had
to deal with seeing your dad in a condition I hadn't expected (since I'd last
seen him at Christmas Eve at your house) -- though he looked great at the funeral home, just
thinner than I'd prepared myself for.

Also, the 'renunion' with your family hit me hard, too. The hardest thing was
watching little Patrick 'bonding' with Steven Winchester over baseball. I don't
think he even remembers me . . . oh, well! That's to be expected. Though it was
great to hug Audrey in the receiving line.

And, of course, toss in meeting the new boyfriend, Steven, (he seems very nice
and good for you), and then realizing that your dad was being buried next to Pam
. . . well, -- and I know how you hate my way of 'processing' -- but, it was all
a bit much.

AND, on top of that, the CD release was imminent, too. Anyway, lots of stuff for
me to have to process alone and in a very short period of time. BUT, it's all
the way it's supposed to be and good.

Well, tonight I'm playing four songs from the CD at Jay Paget's 50th birthday
party. (He's the drummer, Jay "A".) Kristin, Jay, Mr. Curt, Mike, Ray and me.
We're a real rock 'n' roll band. It's a ball!

Well, I wish you could share some of these great experiences with me, but I
understand we are different people, in different places, perceiving life in
very, VERY different ways . . . and that's OK.

As long as we are being true to ourselves and those that we love, it's all OK.

What a riot! Ella is sing "The Secret of Christmas" as I end this . . . "It's
not the things you do at Christmas, but the Christmas things you do all year
through." Guess that would be you and me . . . each in our own way.

Okay! Gotta run!

Love you much!!!

Be well. And, if and when you're ready . . . reach out. I'll be there. (Isn't
that a Supremes or Temptations song?!)

Bye!

Lance

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

Till later y'all . . . Mr. Christmas (AKA "Lance")

Giving Thanks

2007-11-25T21:25:00.000-05:00

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 . . .

2007-11-07T22:23:00.000-05:00

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

2007-11-04T08:36:00.000-05:00

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 . . .

2007-11-03T04:52:00.000-04:00

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

2007-11-02T03:36:00.000-04:00

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.

24 Hours: Montreal via Boston via Phoenix

2007-10-28T19:26:00.001-04:00

So, I wake up in Scottsdale, AZ at the Double Tree Paradise Valley and head to the Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix and catch my 8:09 AM flight back to Boston via Denver.

While in Phoenix, I ate at a fun, trendy restaurant called AZ 88 (Check it out!). Fun cocktails, great burger and an attractive wait staff. If you get to Scottsdale, check it out. It's near the library, city hall and the arts center. Even at night, it was a nice area to walk around since there are all these great fountains.

And, here's some of the boys at BS West that I DID NOT get to meet! I wanted to go there since it was near the hotel, but I was too dogged tired on Thursday evening and needed to get a good night's rest before my cross country flight to Boston to then drive up to Montreal. Maybe next time . . .

So, I get to Boston's Logan airport at 6:09 PM on Friday evening and my buddy picks me up shortly after 7:00 PM so that we can begin the five hour drive to Montreal.

The ride went quickly and we arrive at the Loews Hotel Vogue just after midnight.

The hotel

Our bathroom

And, an example of the bedroom (ours had two full size beds)

Of course, we decided to go out. Montreal, unlike Boston, is one of those cities where the bars and clubs stay open till 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning.

Refreshing!

And, Saturday night we dined at a restaurant called "Le Saloon". Fun! The wait staff all look alike. They're all thin, dark Animé-coifed 20-somethings. AND, they're friendly and polite. Refreshing! Oh, yeah, and the cocktails, food and wine were good, too.

During the day we went to the museum and saw several great exhibitions.

My favorite was by an artist named Vik Muniz. He 'builds' images from manipulating caviar, peanut butter, jelly, string, wire and diamonds on solid backgrounds (floors, table tops, etc.). My favorite is this photograph of diamonds formed to copy a photograph of Elizabeth Taylor. You have to see it close up to realize its comprised entirely of diamonds on a flat, black background; here, it looks just like a photograph, but it's not. His work is amazing.

And, before we left Montreal on Sunday afternoon, we popped into this great T-shirt shop called "Bang-On".

I'd wanted to get a Montreal T-shirt, but ended up getting two custom T-shirts instead. Though this isn't the image on my T-shirt, it is still a stunning one of "Chip and Dale". Mine has a big glittery gold star behind Chip and Dale facing one another and having an (apparently) animated conversation. And, the second one is another retro image. It's of an green AMC Hornet. It was the car I drove in high school. I thought it would be fun to wear to T-dance next summer in P-town at the Boatslip. I'm sure the Chip and Dale T-shirt will turn a few heads, too. But, what the hell! You only live once. I finally get it.

So, for someone who's never been to Montreal, I thoroughly enjoyed it. And, I will go back. All-in-all, my week of travel was a wonderful and rewarding one. I lead a good life. And, I'm grateful for all the opportunities presented to me. I'm also glad that I'm smart enough to take advantage of them all and to experience them to the fullest! I'm blessed. We all are . . . enjoy and savor every moment, please. =;-)

Mom

2007-10-22T22:51:00.000-04:00

It truly is the simple things in life that are the most rewarding.

Whether it's a special dinner made for you by a friend, apple butter made by your Mom, apple sauce made by a co-worker, a hug from a trusted friend or the opportunity to meet up with friends and co-workers you both admire and love, it truly is the simple things that make the difference.

And, this past weekend I had the opportunity to play host to my mom for a couple of days at my place in Provincetown.

It was wonder-filled.

The older I get, the older my parents get, the more I learn about the experiences others have with their parents, the more I cherish the times I have with my own parents.

I got lucky. My parents wanted kids regardless of who they became. They got the whole "unconditional love" thing before it was in vogue.

Yeah, they had their disagreements. I'll never forget my dad telling my brother and I, just a couple of years ago, that he had a vasectomy because he didn't want any more children. I guess he wanted two or three and my mom wanted four or so.

And, I find it fascinating that he shared that with us. That's tough stuff.

I mean, how does a couple negotiate something like the 'size' of their family? It must be fulfilling and heart-wrenching at times. BUT, at least they negotiated it.

Anyway, back to my main point . . . my parents wanted to be parents. They loved raising children and I know they love their children.

I guess my childhood experience was atypical in the sense that my parents truly wanted to be parents and were willing -- once the reality sunk in -- to devote themselves to the art and science of parenting.

I am not just grateful, but blessed, that this was their aim.

So, mom made a 'Windfall' cake from a recipe she found in one of my 'home' books. (It is AWESOME!)

And, we got a chance to do some window shopping in town on Saturday before we had lunch at Fanizzi's in the East End. It's on the water, so we got these awesome views of the bay under a typically gray autumn sky.

I mean, we did nothing (yet everything) extraordinary.

Later, she went to mass. I went to the hardware store to buy a cap for a pipe that houses the shut off valve for the gas or water pipe of my neighbors that sits in my patio.

I picked mom up after mass and we went to the beach and each had a beer as we watched the sun begin to set.

I then went home and cooked an AWESOME dinner of pork medallions (on the grill), green beans, red potatoes with rosemary and garlic and this wonderful apple sauce made by a co-worker of mine.

Well, I'm repeating myself. But, it was a great weekend.

And, I just want to let you all know how grateful I am for my parents.

I've been struck by less than stellar experiences of friends of mine with their parents, so much so that I wanted to be sure to celebrate my wonder-filled experiences with mine.

And, I keep seeing Barbara's mom as the Monarch butterfly. It's October! They're usually long gone by now, but there she was to greet me at Herring Cove this weekend.

Wonderful . . .

Red Geraniums

2007-10-18T23:07:00.000-04:00

Bird Mancini are a multi-talented, gifted and wonder-filled wife and husband team of singer/songwriter musician-ambition who graciously contributed to a track on my CD. Specifically, Ruby Bird played accordion on a track of mine called "Surrender".

Well, tonight I decided to "Google" myself. Surprisingly, I found several references to me as a singer/songwriter and country/folk singer. Who knew?!

Anyway, and more importantly, when I discovered this Bird Mancini video of "Red Geraniums" on YouTube, I just had to share.

Red Geraniums by Bird Mancini

I love this song so much, I had included it on a compilation CD called "All The Love In The World" as the disc's closer. Who knew it had a video?!

Enjoy!

The J Sessions - Wishin' CD and a 'Chick Flick'

2007-10-18T00:01:00.000-04:00

Well, the CD, "The J Sessions - Wishin'", is well on its way to completion. I found out today that The Gamble Mansion (where the primary photos for the CD packaging were taken) is closing at the end of the year. It's been sold. I have no idea what it's fate is, but I feel blessed and fortunate to have been able to rent the space for the photo shoot for the CD images. Who knows? It may not be available to the public after the sale.

And, I got my first 'proof' today. It's the CD spine label complete with my own bar code. It's official. I'm now a commodity!

Additionally, I registered my 12 original songs with BMI today. I remember as a kid looking at album track lists and reading the songwriter and publishing credits and seeing ASCAP and BMI after the songwriter's credits and publisher's names. I was SO-O-O envious! I always wanted to be registered with one or the other. Now, I am! So, should someone want to record my songs, I've got BMI to track the royalties. Who knows? It could happen. If not, I like the way it looks in the CD booklet. So there!

But, the best part about today? Well, I enjoyed (another spontaneous) evening with a good friend of mine, Carolyn. She'd rented the DVD of "The Notebook" from Netflix and we'd agreed to watch it together.

I'm such a girl! I LOVE it! Well, it was sort of a 'guy' night, too. Instead of eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, we ate pizza (with meat toppings, of course) and drank beers.

Anyway, "The Notebook" was a joy to watch. It varied a little too much from the book, for my taste. And, I guess to make it more 'marketable' to today's audiences, Nick Cassavettes, the director, changes the tone considerably. So, the overall intimacy and introspective tone of the book was 'amped' up with these almost neurotic performances by the actors; however, the 'true' essence of the story was not lost.

So, Carolyn and I sat there under quilts with a box of Kleenex between us.

The most touching sequences were often the scenes between James Garner as the elder 'Noah' and Gena Rowlands as the Alzheimer-stricken 'Ally'.

At one point, their children come to visit them at the nursing home. Ally doesn't recognize them and leaves for a nap shortly after their arrival. Once she's gone, their adult children plead with their father, Noah, to come home. BUT, he states something to the effect of: "I can't. My sweetheart's here. I can't leave her." Kleenex please!!!

Anyway, it was touching and reminds me of how I hope to have a love like that in this lifetime that will last. But, if not, I've had a taste of it. And, that's more than many have had.

Also, though a deviation from the book, the fact that the elderly Noah crawls into the nursing home bed of Ally (after he's returned from a hospitial stay recovering from his third heart attack in two years) and she remembers him and they kiss, hold hands and fall into eternal sleep together was a amazing. I cried when they each said "Goodnight" to one another. I miss a goodnight kiss and those simple words most, I guess.

It's funny. I never really think about it, but the recreation in the film of those tender, yet simple moments, struck me like a bolt of lightening: a 'kiss' and then: "Goodnight."

When He Kissed Me

2007-10-12T08:51:00.000-04:00

The "Kiss Me" Company
(BTW . . . Great 'company'!)

Ahh . . . what a night! Thanks to you all who showed up to see "When He Kissed Me", a fund raiser for GLBT youth. It was amazing, memorable and will apparently live on in at least two more upcoming 'gigs' as a result.

Below is the 'script' of my reading. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again all. You mean more to me than you may ever know . . .

The Moment True Love Arrived
(November 23rd, 2001)

A small bird flits around my shoulders then circles around my head. I turn and look up as he flies higher away from me, before swinging downward and darting back behind me. Suddenly, gently, he lands on my right shoulder, nuzzles up to my neck then quietly falls asleep . . . While the little bird rests there, I feel at peace.

How else can I describe him: “The Love of My Lives”? As he’s always done – in all of the lifetimes we’ve shared throughout the centuries – he flits, like a bird, in and out of my life. I try to grasp hold of him . . . to keep him close . . . But – like a little bird – he keeps moving. And, even when together, I can’t keep up with him. He flits so quickly from place to place. I try to keep up . . .

After nine months of playing cat and bird, he flies away, but never far from my heart or mind. The morning we part, we hug one another. My arms – around his waist – hold him close. He rests his chin on my right shoulder and wraps his arms tightly around my neck. For the first time – a rare time – he cries. I wonder if the kiss that preceded his tears would be our last one. This, our first and five-week long separation (my idea) lasts two days (when I phone him).

Two weeks later, in mid-June 2001, we reconnect and then spend a wonderful, if sometimes tense, summer together. Yet, four months later, on Thursday, October 25, we break up again. Our relationship collapses under the weight of emotional upheavals we cannot negotiate around the death of my last partner’s father.

I want space and support. He turns and flies away . . .

A month later, Thanksgiving arrives and I miss him still. I wonder with whom he now spends his time. Mostly, I feel lonely and melancholy.

A couple of weeks earlier, we’d agreed to meet up Thanksgiving weekend and continue a tradition we’d begun the year before: collecting pinecones, cedar boughs and winterberry for decorating our Christmas wreaths.

He arrives at my place in Provincetown around 8:30 AM. Bright, crisp and cool, this Friday after Thanksgiving, I watch from my living room as he walks past my window. Seeing him, my heart – as always – skips at least a beat or two, then stops for a moment.

He lets himself in. We banter back and forth. He jokingly says something sarcastic about something I’ve said a moment before. Once again, he catches me off guard. He creates a safe distance – physical, but more importantly, emotional – from me.

We leave the house and walk to his vehicle. I place a blue plastic bin, (for holding the branches and boughs), and two pairs of pruning clippers, into the back before we both climb into the cab and drive off.

At our first stop, we gather branches of scrub pine, loaded with beige clusters of wide-opened, ball-shaped pinecones. Our hands get sticky from the sap seeping from the freshly cut ends of the branches. The smell of pine is intoxicating. We smell Christmas in the air.

Driving on, we locate a stand of winterberry bushes along the road bordering Pilgrim Lake. We pull up onto the roadside and grab our pruning clippers.

We wander into the brush and navigate our way around the muddied bases of the shrubs. We reach high inside them and clip small branches boasting the finest, fullest bunches of red-orange berries.

We carry them back to his vehicle. Carefully, I separate each branch from the others and then place each atop our other finds. Then I turn and take his branches from him and put each of those into the bin, too.

We chat about nothing and everything. I take the last branch from him and turn, then lean over the tailgate through the opened window. I hear myself say something, anything in response to him, and then – suddenly – I feel it.

At the nape of my neck, I feel the pressure of something land: . . . small, light, soft and warm. Almost immediately, I realize he’s kissed me. I lose it.

Uncontrollably, I feel my eyes close and my face scrunch up. I realize I’m trying to hold back tears. I freeze in place. For a second, I discover I can’t move. Then, as quickly as I’d lost my composure, I recover.

I can’t let him see the tears that had welled up in my eyes a moment before. I have to turn around and face him. I have to go on.

So, I turn toward him. We each catch the other’s gaze. He’s beaming. He has a wonderful smile.

And then, I see it all. I ‘get it’ . . . all. Finally, I understand.

Even though we’re no longer a couple, though we may never be physically intimate again, and though we may never spend another lifetime together, I understand that he still loves me. I know now he loves me unconditionally, forever and for always.

We discover ‘true’ love.

The moment changes us forever. And, I now know – always – it is “The Moment ‘True’ Love Arrived”.

Kiss . . .

2007-10-03T01:17:00.000-04:00

Oh! What the hell! In anticipation of "When He Kissed Me". Here's someone's homage to Marilyn's "Kiss" from the film "Niagara". (My favorite? The 'rewinds/replays and rewinds/replays".) If you've never seen the film. See it! It's fun film noir nearing the end of its 'hey-day'. Click on "Kiss" to view the video.

I Will Have No Regrets

2007-09-21T06:57:00.000-04:00

When I Dream
(performed by Nanci Griffith)

I could have a mansion that is higher than the trees.
I could have all the gifts I want and never ask please.
I could fly to Paris, oh, it's at my beck and call.
Why do I go through life with nothing at all?

But When I Dream, I dream of you.
Maybe someday you will come true.

I can be the singer or the clown in every room.
I can even call someone to take me to the moon.
I can put my makeup on and drive the men insane.
I can go to bed alone and never know his name.

But When I Dream, I dream of you.
Maybe someday you will come true.

But When I Dream, I dream of you.
Maybe someday you will come true.

-------------- Forwarded Message: --------------
From: Me
To: "The Love of My Lives"
Subject: Hey!
Date: Thu, 20 Sep 2007 11:44:22 +0000

YOU!

I LOVE YOU!!!

Wait! Wait! Wait!

I had to email you that I love you because I woke up this morning thinking -- for a brief moment -- I was having a heart attack. I think it was just stress (from work and continually only averaging about four hours of sleep a night these days and indigestion), since I'm still typing this, but it made me think of what I would want to make sure I do in this life IF it turned out I was going to die. And, not surprisingly I thought of you.

And, I write and feel this, NOT to make you feel uncomfortable, BUT to let you know how special you are.

I've never loved anyone they way I love you. And, I love that! And, thank you for still loving me, in your way, too.

Have you ever read "The Notebook"? My mom passed it on to me recently (after having talked about it for years). I guess 'the timing' is ripe and right for it, because it resonates so much with me.

"The Notebook" reminds me of our story, a bit. I feel like Noah, and Allie, reminds me of you. It's quite poignant really.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know all that (and again, I know), in case I should die tomorrow.

Have fun! Be good to all. Be kind. Be patient. Be loving. And, most importantly, be forgiving!!!

Peace, guy.

Again, I love you!

Talk to and/or speak with you soon.

Always . . . Lance

From "The Notebook" by Nicholas Sparks

Excerpt from the note 17-year old Noah gives to 15-year old Allie at the end of their first summer together:

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this good-bye is both a good-bye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.

When I look at you, I see your beauty and grace and know they have grown stronger with every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this one searching for you. Not someone like you, but you, for your soul and mine must always come together. And then, for a reason neither of us understands, we've been forced to say goodbye.

I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do all I can to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly good-bye, I know we will see each other again in another life. We will find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we've had before.

Getting To Know You . . .

2007-09-20T07:11:00.000-04:00

Just a quick note to let the world know that the first date was a sweet one. MWW is charming, funny, sweet, handsome and appropriately sensitive.

We enjoyed a nice meal at Union and spent the time learning a bit more about one another, our families: parents and siblings. The folks at Union kind of know me by now, so I asked for one of the corner booths so that it would be a bit more cozy, intimate and private. As a Pisces, 'atmosphere' is ever important. So, I wanted the first dining experience to be a somewhat special one. I think I (we) succeeded in making that happen. =:-)

We each shared a pet peeve and a favorite time of day.

I gave him a copy of the latest compilation CD I made called "August" that's got lots of the folk and alt country music on it that we both like.

And, we're going to get together next week, too.

We walked to the garage and then I drove him around the block to the "T". Still a good kisser . . . but, it was the hug I liked most. I never take one for granted . . .

Fool For Love

2007-09-17T22:32:00.000-04:00

Well, hardly . . . I mean, I think one of the ‘smartest’ things anyone can do in this life is to love and love intentionally, fully, and unconditionally. And, you gotta get your heart broke now and then or you wouldn’t know how wonder-filled being ‘in love’ is . . .

Ahh . . . where to begin . . .

There’s so much going on ‘good’ in my life these days that I’m sure I’m going to die soon as a result. I mean, no one person deserves all the ‘riches’ I now enjoy without some comeuppance. Right?

Well, I guess that’s not true. I guess that’s old ‘programming’. I mean, why can’t we have it all? And, more importantly, why isn’t it ‘OK’ to acknowledge that maybe we deserve to ‘have it all’?

The Love Of My Lives

I had dinner Friday evening at The Franklin Cafe with “the love of my lives”. We were ‘indirectly’ celebrating our seventh anniversary of having met (‘reconnected’ in this life) ‘in person’. We met ‘in person’ on Tuesday, September 12, 2000, in front of what is now the Bank of America, but, was then, surely, BankBoston, at the corner of Clarendon and Tremont Streets.

On that initial meeting, in September of 2000, we had drinks at Club Cafe. When the evening ended, I walked “the love of my lives” back to his black, Ford Explorer SUV and kissed him goodnight.

He’s the lightest of kissers.

I remember just how sweet and delicate that kiss was. I remember how much he seemed to anticipate, desire, and appreciate that initial kiss.

Well, now, his father is quite ill, I guess. He’s got a form of cancer of the blood. As you all know by now, I’m terrible at ‘facts’, but wonder-filled at details. So, I apologize for not remembering the name of his illness. Like me, “the love of my lives” can’t recall the ‘facts’ well either; though, I’m sure he’d deny it. I know we both thrive in the realm of dreams realized, instead.

Anyway, now more than ever, I feel I need to get “the” CD done. I want his father, (like I want mine, who’s ‘well’, but whose memory is waning), to ‘hear’ the CD and be able to take the memory of our (“the love of my lives’” and my) love for one another to the next plane with them.

I want them each to know we love and love one another well. I want them to know that, though we’re not ‘together’, we’re never apart . . . that he and I are ‘good’ and more than ‘OK’ now . . . finally.

“I’m Lance.”

Synchronicities . . . OK. How rare/bizarre is this? I’m passing under the awning at T-Dance at The Boatslip on Saturday evening, September 15, around 6:20 PM, or so, and I spot this guy wearing a dark blue t-shirt emblazoned with “I’m Lance” on it. Shortly thereafter, my curiousity gets the best of me. So, I walk up to this guy and ask: “What’s the significance of the shirt?” Mind you, there are other guys and gals at “T” wearing similar shirts like: “I ‘heart (love)’ Lance”, etc. Oh! And, the back of each shirt says: “Swank” “September 16, 2007”.

Well, it turns out this guy’s name is “Lance”. It’s his fortieth birthday on September 16, 2007. So, I introduce myself and say: “Oh. OK. Happy Birthday. My name is Lance, too. And my birthday is March 16. I’m 47.” To which he responds, get this . . . :

“You look good.”

Gay men!

I mean, I KNOW I look good. ‘Yummy’ even! I just thought it an odd, and yet, not intentionally, inappropriate response.

It made me feel like a Studebaker!

And, if you’re too young to get THAT reference ‘Google’ or, better yet, Wikipedia it and THEN get back to me. You’ll know what I mean.

Geez!

Anyway, wonderfully weird . . . huh . . . ? I mean, how often does one run into someone who shares the same name AND whose birthday is exactly six months (and, in this case, seven years) from your own?!

MWW, Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward’s
and Elizabeth Taylor’s Birthday

So, I went to dinner this past Wednesday evening with another good friend of mine, P. After dinner at the Beehive, we went for our requisite after dinner drink(s . . . ahem) at the Fritz Carlton (Thanks “JH”. I hadn’t heard that one before. Okay! I’m slow . . . AND sweet, if you’re lucky!).

Anyway, P. is flirting with this ever so attractive, trim, dark forty’ish guy with the most fabulous head-full of dark wavy hair that reaches just down toward his cheek line and slightly below his neckline. (Remember. I’m a master at ‘details’, NOT facts.)

Well, I make eye contact with this guy and encourage him to join us. And, as it turns out, he’s interested in ‘yours truly’ NOT P. (Sorry P!). Who’d have thunk it?!

So, we chat. We find out his name is MWW. We then learn that MWW is living with his ex of fourteen years. Apparently, they broke up several months ago, but are living under the same roof. (Been there! Done that! NEVER got the t-shirt and, more importantly, I don’t recommend it! And, DON’T pack a bag.)

Then the “Hollywood” stuff spills out.

Seems this guy’s birthday is February 27. February 27 is also Joanne Woodward’s AND Elizabeth Taylor’s birthday. Elizabeth Taylor, like “yours truly”, is a Sun Pisces/Moon Scorpio (Your moon sign rules your childhood experiences AND your emotional development. AND, whatever your moon sign is, you ‘feel’ more like THAT than even the sun sign does. YOU do the math.). So, we (Liz and I) are a sweet handful/combination of power and passion, sweetness and sensuality, magic and wonder . . . yes, I typed that. And, yes, it’s true.

THEN, MWW shares: “We (he and the ex) were like Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman.” I immediately get this reference and realize the ex of 14 years is an Aquarius like Paul Newman. They (the ex and Paul Newman) MAY even share the same birthday.

Are you still with me?

Well, I laugh one of those deep, ‘knowing’ belly laughs because I have often thought of “the love of my lives” and myself in the same context (like Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman), since he, too, is an Aquarius (like Paul Newman) and I’m the Pisces (like Joanne Woodward, but I’m WAY more Elizabeth Taylor! WAY more. You’ll have to trust me on this one.).

So, this guy teaches theater at a college. YES! I know! And, the good Lord knows, (as do you all), ‘yours truly’ hardly needs a drama coach! BUT, seriously, I expect this to be fun.

Two Pisces together are like two dreamers in a dream . . . (Luckily, my Sun Sign (Pisces) in my chart is in my second house. So, I get to realize those dreams and ground them in my version of reality. So, he and I may be ‘OK’.)

Well, MWW and I have talked on the phone a couple times since and have scheduled a date for later in the week. We’ll see what happens. He’s very sweet, handsome, and a good kisser. (YES! While P. went to get us a second round of drinks, I drew him in and tested/tasted the goods!) I caught him off guard and caught his sharp upper teeth on my bottom lip, but even THAT felt good. Ouch! And, tasty . . . Okay. I’m oversharing! But NOT like Brittney or Paris (and, thankfully, I ALMOST forgot Paris’s name!).

Late Breaking News: I just got off the phone with MWW to confirm our date for Wednesday. We got talking music and we both learned that Emmylou Harris is each of our favorite singers. Hmm . . . two dreamers in a dream . . .

Yes. Life IS good! Men are wonder-filled. And, I’m “The Luckiest Man Alive”. And, I not only ‘know’ it, but am grateful beyond belief for it all.

Okay. This is enough Sunday 6:00 AM ramblin’ for now. Gosh! It’s now 7:50 AM. I’m going back to bed!

In the mean time, know – and remember – I love you all!!!

And, be good, but not TOO good!

Always . . .

=:-)

"I Wanted To Write About Everything."

2007-08-22T16:51:00.000-04:00

Inspiration: "The Hours"

Ed Harris’s character in “The Hours” states this very thought to Meryl Streep’s Clarissa near the end of her first of two visits to him in the film. He then goes on to list a handful of examples that include Clarissa walking through the door with a handful of flowers for him. I was immediately struck by just how much the details of our lives impact and define its essence.

I, too, wish I could write about everything . . . everything meaningful to me. And, so much of what’s meaningful to me is defined by the details of my life.

(Clothes Pins contributed by “the love of my lives” circa 2000 . . .
just try to take them away from me.)

And, while on vacation in Provincetown, when I get the chance to actually stop and deliberately ‘live’, I’m reminded of how much I appreciate the details and the traditions that define my life.

So, here are some images and accompanying narrative that provide a glimpse into what brings me such joy here in P-town and at “The Little Respite”.

FRIENDS FROM NATURE

I. The Great Blue Heron
II. A Red Wing Blackbird
III. The Snowy Egret

I. The Great Blue Heron

Every year, for many years now, a Great Blue Heron usually parks himself in the marsh across the street from where all the boys park their bikes. I see him every year. I look for him every year. I didn’t see him this year, but a friend visiting for a few days from Connecticut told me he saw him. I was grateful. I was afraid he’d passed. Finally I spotted him. I've seen him about five times this summer. Most recently, I was rewarded last Sunday evening with a view of him soaring above and across P-town as I was walking home from T-Dance at The Boatslip.

A friend suggested that he might be keeping to himself and away from the crowds. I think she may be right; however, I did see him close to the road one Monday morning around 6:30 AM when I was leaving town with the top down for Boston. He showed off his crown, his plume. I waved at him and smiled like a three year old. I thought of “the love of my lives”. He does that. He often reacts with the unselfconscious spontaneity of a child. It’s wonderful.

II. A Red Wing Blackbird

Though barely visible here, you may be able to just make out the yellow and red stripes on the wing of this Red Wing Blackbird. Usually, by late May or early June, I spot the first Red Wing Blackbird of the summer season, but I can’t recall seeing one for at least two years. Well, I was rewarded, finally, during my first vacation during the third week of July. While coming back from the beach, I spotted this handsome beauty. Again, I was grateful. It was like seeing another old friend.

III. The Snowy Egret

Though a several year old memory, she's a wonderful one. I remember being at Herring Cove one day with “the love of my lives” during one of our brief reconnections. While we were there, this Snowy Egret appeared flying in circles directly above us. Higher and higher she flew and I knew who she was.

I'm sure she was the sister of “the love of my lives”. She’s a year older than me and passed at the age of 27 of a brain tumor when “the love of my lives” was 21 years old. He didn’t cry when she died.

She and I have a spiritual connection and ours is a symbolic relationship to “the love of my lives”. She was in rare form that day.

BEACH GLASS

Years ago, when I was too afraid to raise my head to make eye contact with all the men on the beach who I thought either too beautiful or too bold for me to look at, I began collecting beach glass.

I used to find, on average, five to ten pieces each time I went to the beach. Today there is less of it, but I still occasionally find beach glass. I also walk with my head held high these days, so it makes it hard to spot beach glass. But, when I make a conscious effort, when I want to take a long walk at the beach, I often still find pieces.

And, as in the film that I’ve gone on so much about already here, and whose viewing is another wonderful tradition of mine, I’m reminded of how Diane Keaton’s Erica in “Something’s Gotta Give” keeps bowls of white rocks she’s collected from the beach around her house. Well, I do the same thing with beach glass. It’s everywhere!

I’ve two square bowls, two small trays, a cylinder and a candleholder I made with pieces of beach glass placed between one larger and one smaller cylinder.

Finding beach glass brings peace to me and always amazes me in the moment I spot it. It’s like buried treasure to me.

FOOD

And, when in Provincetown, I cook well for myself. I enjoy lots of fresh fruits. I grill out often. I grill vegetables and chicken sausages, racks of lamb and hamburgers. And, only in the summer in New England can I enjoy vanilla ice cream with peaches and blackberries. It is my favorite dessert. If I have it five times a summer, that’s a lot. This year, I’ve only had it twice. BUT, summer’s not over.

And, when I come home from the beach, I like to have a cold drink. Sometimes it’s a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale with salsa and chips. Sometimes it’s a Sapphire and tonic with lime. And, sometimes it’s a Margarita with strawberries . . .

FLOWERS

I love flowers. Roses are my favorite . . . white roses in particular.

Every year, in the spring, I buy flowers for the window box and make up container plantings. I also create herb container planters with rosemary, thyme and basil.

This year I chose white impatiens; white, light and medium purple asylum; dusty miller and varying shades of light purple to dark violet petunias for the flower box and container plantings. I added a yellow daisy as the focal point of one of the container plants.

For inside my home, I often buy common perennials from the florist at the market. They’re unassuming batches of daisies and other similar flowers, but they add just the right touch of life to the inside of my home.

LIGHTING

And, I bought a second candleholder for outdoors that’s the exact same pattern and style as the one I bought two years ago. It’s taller than the other one, but makes a great compliment and pairing. I also found a set of outdoor string lights with the same type of metal as the candleholders with the same golden color glass in beads set in the cylinder shades. I didn’t realize until later that the string lights ‘matched’ the candleholders.

Here’s one of two ‘stained glass’ candleholders that I bought since they reminded me of beach glass.

DETAILS

On the sill of the window in my bathroom, I display a variety of items that are useful and/or playful, but that all ‘work’ together well, visually. And, they give a glimpse of the personal. Remember, it’s the details that help define the essence of who we are. I just want to suggest that we look at them.

There’s the Banana Republic soap bar called “Beach House” that I’ll never use because it’s got so much symbolic meaning. There’s the Calvin Klein “Summer” cologne that fits so well in this vignette. Then there’s the Pecksniff’s citrus cologne that “the love of my lives” gave me last Christmas. I cherish it. And, there’s the other stained glass candleholder followed by two, yes two different hair products, Crew ‘Paste’ as the base and Crew ‘Clay’ for the hold. LOL! And, finally, some Nate Berkus “Beach” air freshener. They’re just little things that make up part of my existence. I know they’re superficial. I could live without them all. (Okay! Okay! Maybe NOT the hair products, but everything else I could live without. Geez!) But, I appreciate them nonetheless.

PATIO AND DECK

Here’s the patio and deck. You’ll note that there are two Adirondack chairs and two side chairs for the small ‘café’ table, of sorts. And, it’s no accident that there is two of each. I went through this phase of buying two of everything so that I’d be ready when ‘he’ showed up. I still sometimes do that, but now it’s intentional without a trace of the maudlin. I still have hope, but have really come to enjoy being single.

And, here are two parting shots of what keeps bringing me back. The first is of my view of the beach at Herring Cove and the second is a view of town from behind the dunes at Herring Cove.

As I recently became aware, P-town is the one place I can be my truest self always. I am most at home here than any other place in the world. Puerto Vallarta comes a close second, but it is P-town that defines me. And, it’s not because of the clubs, the men, the availability of easy sex, nor the shops, the restaurants or the expensive homes. I am most at home here because I can be myself without judgment. I am so grateful for that. I realize how lucky I am.

So, I live alone, but am not lonely. I enjoy ‘being’ with me. And, I enjoy being here with friends. For me, it’s a healthy balance for now.

Someday I may find another man to share my life with, but, for now, I don’t ‘need’ that, and I don’t think I want it.

It’s funny. For years all I wanted was to be in a relationship defined by fidelity (not to be confused with monogamy). And, though I still want that, I’m enjoying all the relationships I have as a single man. I never thought I’d get here, but it’s wonderful being alone yet, not lonely.

And, wherever ‘you’ are. Please know that I love you.

“Don’t hide your eyes that way.
Don’t hide anything, not anymore.
Because I never did not love you.
I never did run from you.
In a dream, I said to you:
‘I’ll always love you.’”

From “Gold and Braid” by Stevie Nicks

Something's Gotta Give Redux

2007-07-24T22:10:00.001-04:00

I was surfing "YouTube" for two different scenes from "Something's Gotta Give" (which, unbelievably, aren't posted there), when I stumbled upon this interview with Diane Keaton.

Anyway, I just had to 'share'.

If you've never seen the film, consider checking it out. It's amazing.

And, just to give it perspective, for you 'young folks', uhh . . . you'll get there. This is your future.

Now, sit back. Grab your favorite drink and watch a great interview.

Then, go get the movie!!!

And, the best thing about it is, aging is not hopeless.

BTW, Diane didn't win the Oscar that year, (but, she won the Golden Globe), but man, she deserved the nomination.

Young Frankenstein

2007-07-23T22:59:00.000-04:00

. . . and 'Nostalgia'.

Oh, my God!

For 'shits and giggles', I popped "Young Frankenstein" into the DVD player tonight.

Hysterical!

I forgot just how funny that movie is.

You see. I've bought a couple of handfuls of DVDs of films I love.

Unlike most folks, I guess, I don't go out and 'see' a lot of movies BUT, I do love to 'find' movies that I can watch over and over, when I choose.

And, "Young Frankenstein" fits the bill on so many levels.

One of the best bits about any Mel Brooks' film, is his sort of irreverence for Jewish culture. It's hysterical!

I mean, there's nothing funny about "The Holocaust" or Nazi's, etc., BUT, somehow, Mel Brooks just takes it all to a level of the absurd that makes it palatable, yet never "OK".

It's refreshing to watch.

And then, there's the genius of the cast.

I mean, it's Gene Wilder's 'tour de force', but everyone else is amazing, too.

I think the film was filmed in Mexico. Regardless, it's amazing.

Of course, anything Madeline Kahn or Terri Garr contributed to would be fabulously hysterical by default. But, Peter Boyle, Gene Hackman, and whoever the actor was who played the local "Police" were hysterical.

And, without saying, Cloris Leachman was the 'linch pin' in this film. As "Frau Bleucher" (sp?), she was hysterical.

Anyway, did I tell you how much I love "vacations"?

One of my favorite 'vacation' things to do is cook for myself. Tonight's dinner was half a rack of lamb cooked out on the grill, risotto and salad. AND, I made up a bowl of vanilla ice cream and black berries to top off the night. Wonderful dinner . . .

And, I had a great weekend reconnecting with old and new buds of mine.

Ahh! I can't even tell you how wonderful it was, but suffice it to say that we enjoyed the beach, The Boatslip T-Dance, The Porch Bar at Gifford House and "life", generally.

I am blessed!

But, you knew that already. LOL!

Stars . . .

2007-07-20T21:32:00.001-04:00

I'm back from Mesa, AZ, and could go on and on, but I won't.

But, I did see three movies in two days. That's a record! I rarely 'go' to movies.

I watched 'Premonition' with Sandra Bullock. See it. Romance, telepathy, otherworldliness . . .

I also saw "because i said so" with Diane Keaton, Mandy Moore and Lauren Graham. See it.

I'm just a sucker for self-empowering 'chick flicks' and, though not quite as 'heady' or focused as 'Something's Gotta Give', it's definitely a fun flick. And, this one introduced me to my latest heart throb, Gabriel Macht. Check him out. Man! Those eyes alone nailed me to the floor! If I could find one-tenth of the emotional commitment exuded in his eyes in a man I might meet, I'd be 'commited', (in probably more ways than one).

He was 'back drop' in the scene where Diane Keaton's character starts meeting all these potential dates for her youngest daughter and his eyes just nailed me. I thought he'd be just a peripheral character, but, luckily, became a major player in the film.

Besides that "The Love of My Lives" 'Thanked' me for the CD Mix "All the Love in the World" via voice mail and asked if I remembered a specific Alison Krauss song. Of course, I did. And, I forwarded the lyrics to him.

For me, I couldn't help be reminded of how he and I 'reconnected' last Labor Day. He came to my patio in P-town and 'watched' me through my window . . . anyway, here's "Stars" by Alison Krauss and Union Station from "New Favorite".

Stars (Click 'Stars' to link to Rhapsody to 'hear' the song.)

Stood out in the rain.
Let it soak me down,
Before I called you...
I called you.

You did not see me there,
Hidden by the dark,
Beneath your window,
But I saw you.

When putting on a face for the mirror on the wall.
Dreaming that the looking glass is you.
Catching my fondest gazes;
Living through my fickle phases.
I love you.

Spend my time on 'phones,
Tryin' just to talk,
But you didn't answer...
You let it ring.

Spend my nights alone,
Catching fallin' stars,
To give to you, love.
They're just for you.

Stars fall every time a lover has to face the truth.
And far too many stars have fell on me.
And as they trail the skies,
And burn their paths upon my eyes,
I cry.

And it's getting easier, each day, to weep about you.
Harder, every night, to sleep without you.
How many years must I be,
Driven by this dream of love with you?

All the Love in the World

2007-07-14T09:25:00.001-04:00

Argh! "The Girls" must be down here in P-town, so I've access to the Internet via their wireless router. Oh, well! Hopefully, access will be intermittent. You see, I almost got wireless down here at "The Little Respite", but I didn't want it to intrude with my P-town experience. And, that's what's happening now. Instead of making breakfast and heading to the beach, I'm checking email and posting a new blog post. Oh, well! Everything happens for a reason . . .

Well, last night I fell asleep on the couch while 'previewing' the latest CD mix I created last night. While visiting "The Love of My Lives" on Wednesday evening, and while he was flipping through a stack of CDs (notably, at least half were mixes I've made for him . . . for us), he said: "I need new music."

"Ka-ching!"

So, I decided to finesse a new mix. The last mix I'd done was last September after "The Love of my Lives" and I had our third semi-annual early, early AM trip to Herring Cove with pillows, sheets and comforter in tow so we could fall asleep beneath a blanket of stars and wake to the stunningly bright light of the early morning dawn. Anyway, last Labor Day's Friday evening romp to the beach included "The Love of My Lives" falling into the brush, not once, but at least three times. I had him put his arms around my waist, which only led to me being dragged down with him the last time he fell.

Well, three or four days later, I discovered I'd contracted poison ivy. Not fun! Anyway, "The Love of My Lives" and I didn't speak again until late in the fall, by which time I'd compiled a CD to celebrate our reunion and opened it with a previously unreleased Nanci Griffith song, from a recently released compilation CD of her four studio albums for MCA Records, called "Tumble and Fall" Get it? It's a great song and perfect for the occasion and, at least, my stage in life.

Anyway, here's the mix with some links to our friends at Rhapsody, should you want to give a listen:

All the Love in the World

Two – Ryan Adams
Turpentine – Brandi Carlile
No Bad News – Patty Griffin
Crawling Back To You – Tom Petty
Rectify – Beth Orton
Rescue – Lucinda Williams
Rest Of My Life – Bird Mancini
Take Me In – Bryndle
The One I Love – David Gray
Help Me – k.d. lang
House On The Lake – Rosanne Cash
You're An Angel And I'm Gonna Cry – Chris Thile
Have You Ever – Brandi Carlisle
Pearls On A String – Ryan Adams
Learning How To Live – Lucinda Williams
Tomorrow Is A Long Time – Nickel Creek
Simple Love – Alison Krauss
Beautiful – Paul Simon
I Don't Ever Give Up – Patty Griffin
Red Geraniums – Bird Mancini

Okay! Now, I'm getting my ass in gear so I can get out and enjoy this amazingly beautiful day in P(aradise)-town. I'll be thinking of you . . .

. . . back from the beach. Here's a lyric whose title came to me on the ride down yesterday and that I wrote at the beach today.

Sittin' Still
(Saturday, July 14, 2007 – 1:17 PM - 1:32 PM)

Chorus:
These days I have no time for Sittin' Still.
I know there'll come a time when I will,
but these days it's about movin' on.
No. I've no time for Sittin' Still.

Verse 1:
I used to sit around and wonder why,
why I was so lonesome, why I'd just cry.
I used to think of you, most of the time.
Couldn't find a way to keep myself from cryin'.

Verse 2:
These days I have no time to wonder why,
why my life's so full, how I keep on tryin'.
I still think of you, much of the time.
But, if I said: "I've shed a tear for you." I'd be lyin'.

Chorus:
These days I have no time for Sittin' Still.
I know there'll come a time when I will,
but these days it's about movin' on.
No. I've no time for Sittin' Still.

Verse 3:
Once again, I see you're happy with someone new.
But, this time your new love can't make me blue.
Because when I saw you the last time,
I knew your love for me was still true.

Chorus:
These days I have no time for Sittin' Still.
I know there'll come a time when I will,
but these days it's about movin' on.
No. I've no time for Sittin' Still.
No. I've no time for Sittin' Still.
No. I've no time for Sittin' Still.

You're An Angel And I'm Gonna Cry

What do you see that's so beautiful?
It always reflects in your eyes.
The world casts no shadows across your sweet face.
You're An Angel And I'm Gonna Cry.

When I used to see you, I'd smile,
just a pretty girl up on a sign,
then I'd thank God for mine. Now, she's leaving
and I need an angel to keep me from crying.

You're An Angel and I'm Gonna Cry.
'Cause I can't have you and I'm not gonna try.

But, I'm wasting this dream with my troubles.
Let me rest in your arms for a while.
Say you love me. 'Cause when I wake up dear,
you'll just be an angel and I'm gonna cry.
Say you love me. 'Cause when I wake up dear,
you'll just be an angel and I'm gonna cry.

The Luckiest Man Alive

2007-07-11T22:57:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I'm just a dime store novel's worth of romantic idealism realized.

So, it turns out that the saying:

"It's not the number of breaths you take, but
the number of times your breath is taken away."

is truer than you might ever imagine and ends up being worth way more than its weight in gold.

I am "The Luckiest Man Alive".

While in P-town, I decided to 'spin' a CD that I'd made while pining for "The Love of My Lives" two winters ago, post "Brokeback Mountain", that included lots of sentimental ditties from that soundtrack, and other 'like' songs. Here's the song list:

A Love That Will Never Grow Old – Emmylou Harris
Snow – Gustavo Santaolalla
Icicles – Patty Griffin
The Maker Makes – Rufus Wainwright
Mountain of Sorrow – Nanci Griffith
Now And Always – David Gray
Shadow Of A Doubt – Beth Orton
It’s All In Your Mind – Beck
Brokeback Mountain 2 – Gustavo Santaolalla
He Was A Friend Of Mine – Willie Nelson
A Living Prayer – Alison Krauss and Union Station
The Bed I Made – Bonnie Raitt
When My Love Crosses Over – John Hiatt
Before – Nanci Griffith
I Don’t Want To Say Goodbye – Teddy Thompson
The Connection – Emmylou Harris
Reconsider Me – Stevie Nicks
Keep Me In Your Heart – Warren Zevon
The Wings – Gustavo Santaolalla

Anyway, I'd put a dedication on the inside cover of the CD booklet that I'd forgotten about that referenced, (among other things) the words: "This collection of songs is dedicated to 'the love of my life'."

I made the 'mistake' of reading it, and my breath was taken away . . . literally. It was wonderful.

And, while I was 'feeling' this guy intensely all that day, it turns out he was in P-town with his sister's family . . . I knew it.

Then, last night I had dinner with a guy who woke something inside me that I hadn't felt for another person in years. That was close to four months ago. And, though the relationship is changed forever, it's grown and is becoming something more rewarding to me than I could have ever imagined.

We dined out at an 'old haunt' of ours and had a cocktail or two apiece, but skipped the bottle of wine – of our relatively recent past – for a glass. We had a warm "Hello" kiss, and an equally warm (Okay! Okay . . . simmeringly 'hot') kiss "Goodnight".

Then tonight, as my friend from 'Across the Pond' (and whose name was brought up tonight in conversation!) likes to refer to him: "the one, whose name we dare not speak" and I had dinner tonight at our old favorite haunt, "The Franklin Cafe" in the South End.

It was great.

I still love him more than life itself, BUT I can now 'let him go' while being secure in our love for one another.

In fact, with both these guys, I realize that we 'mean' something to one another that transcends sex (duh!). It turns out that life does have meaning after all . . . as long as you bring meaning to it.

Tonight's meeting with 'The Love of My Lives' was particularly amazing to me since I was able to be with him – as we'd been in the 'old days' – but, I was no longer 'hung up' on him.

In fact, and this is H-U-G-E, HUGE!!!, I, (and this is because we 'know' each other so well), noted immediately when we were back at his place, and he later walked into the bedroom with his phone to check his voice mail, that he then – even more quickly – ran into the bathroom to brush his teeth, that he'd obviously gotten "The Call".

I actually – regardless of how much I'm still in love with him – found his behavior endearing. You see, yours truly finds nothing more wonder-filled than witnessing someone 'in love'. And, no one falls 'in love' like this guy. So, he got "The Call" and we had to leave so he could spend the night with X. (BTW, I nailed who "X" is, based upon a description. He seems to be a nice guy actually, so I'm happy for my ex-. I mean, this guy's never spun my propeller, BUT he's treating my ex- quite well, apparently, so I'm comforted knowing that the ex- is in 'good hands', so to speak! =:-) ).

Yeah, it's a bit twisted. I mean. He says: "Well, so and so, never could have had 'blah, blah'!" And I said, it's not about 'having' someone, it's about 'loving' someone. And he says: "It's about HAVING someone." He's got some work to do, but he's not ill-intentioned, just supremely emotionally immature. BUT, my cards are on him figuring it out one day. Anyone who wants 'true love' that badly WILL figure it out.

Ahh . . . it was truly precious and amazing to watch.

So, I 'delivered' him to the door step of his latest paramour. And, for the first time ever, it didn't matter to me what might transpire behind closed doors. Why? Because I witnessed the 'love' that he and I have for one another that is something wonderful we've 'built' over more than seven years of knowing and loving one another.

How can that compare with four months?

Anyway, regardless, it was wonderful to watch.

And, the past five days have provided me the opportunity to spend time with four different men that have all touched me in some way, deeply.

I know! I know! I can hear 'D' (maybe both 'D's') laughing at my perceived naivety, but guys, KNOW that this is real for me. And, it's been really wonderful . . .

Sincerely,

The Luckiest Man Alive

PS Have you heard of Ryan Adams? If not, check out his latest "Easy Tiger". Amazing! I've much more to learn about this one, but he's young, hot and a Scorpio. And, you know how the Scorps always tug at my Moon Scorpio heart strings . . . again . . . amazing. Enjoy all!

The Little Respite: Volume 26, Issue 7, Article 1

2007-07-10T22:34:00.000-04:00

Circuit Boys and Bears

The Fourth of July and Circuit Boys

Well, I don’t have much to say here about direct experiences with either the Fourth of July or Circuit Boys, but I felt I should acknowledge them both since they’re a significant part of the summer Provincetown experience. They’re just not ‘so much’ for me! Although here’s a photo I took of the fireworks from my patio. Again, it was raining; so many of us decided to watch them from home.

Mainly, I got down to P-town Tuesday evening, and was a bit fried from pressures at work; however, I was able to unwind with two friends of mine, a couple, who invited me over for an impromptu cocktail and dinner. Then, spontaneously, we decided to go to the A-House with another couple, who are friends of my friends, visiting from NYC. Anyway, some of us had not been out at night since the week began (God forbid!), so we decided to go out so we could say we’d been out at least one night that week.

The A-House was already crowded when we arrived around 10:30. There were a lot of circuit boys in town, so I think the place was filling up much earlier than normally; especially for a Tuesday evening?! Anyway, we had a good time. Apparently, yours truly got a little too aggressive for one shirtless C-Boy while carving out a space on the crowded dance floor for moi and mi amigos.

Suffice it to say, I played ‘dumb’ (I sincerely thought bumping and grinding out a spot of your own was appropriate but, when one friend commented later, something like: “I just thought you were both dancing like you were in a ‘mosh pit’, slamming into one another.” I then, in retrospect, realized I might have been a tad aggressive. Oh well! No harm done.).

Our friends from NYC offered to come to blows with this guy in my defense, but ‘acting dumb’ seemed to ward off any further potential altercation. Besides, apparently, based on the observations of others in our party, this guy’s behavior was inconsistent, at best. And, I’m told that qualification is generous.

The guys from NYC and I went to Spiritus on or about 12:30-ish. I got to know one of the guys a little better while hanging out in front of Spiritus. He’s a musician, too, so we got to talk ‘geek’ about Pro Tools software and how different individuals gravitate toward either singing and songwriting (yours truly) or becoming a more proficient musician (my new friend).

Apparently, since I’ve heard this from more than one person, your interest has a lot to do with whether you can carry a tune or not. So, a lot of folks end up ‘singing’ via their instrument of choice, if they can’t sing. This makes sense. Please note: yours truly is not always a quick study.

Besides that night out, due to inclement weather or scheduling conflicts, I never made it out again to socialize until Saturday’s PACKED “Where Worlds (C-Boys and Bears) Collide!” T-Dance at The Boatslip (BTW, have any of you seen umbrellas and sun bathers in front of the deck at The Boatslip?!). THAT was interesting!

Luckily, the three of us that went all have Townie passes, so turning around and leaving, after spending 15 minutes in a drink line that didn’t move, wasn’t a ‘bad’ or a ‘sad’ thing. In fact, we instead rendezvoused with one of the NYC guys at The Wave Bar at The Crown and Anchor and had a fabulously civilized time of it.

After The Wave Bar, an early and delicious dinner at Ciro and Sal’s ended with me parting from my friends and going home to prep for heading out to The A-House . . . alone . . .

So, before moving on to Big, Beautiful Bear week, let me just wrap up my thoughts on The Fourth of July Week and Circuit Boys.

Okay. Plainly. I don’t get it. I never did. And, though yours truly claims to rarely experience anxiety (well, not for any great length of time anymore), the whole Circuit thing does make me a bit uneasy. And, I’ll preface any further comments with my total admission of having only experienced any of the Circuit life vicariously and peripherally, but, I think it’s the proclivity (or necessity?) to include drug use that wigs me out most.

Again, from what I’ve witnessed, peripherally, the drugs seem to superficially heighten the ‘feel good’ vibe of the relationships (and; therefore, reduce the physical intimacy to overly-familiar recreational sex (another thing I’ve never been good at and almost never with more than one person . . . what decade was that?!)). Anyway, the ‘feel good’ vibe that results seems so manufactured to me that I just can’t get ‘it’.

Besides the drug component, I also think I’m getting further from the median age for that group. Again, I don’t know for sure, but it seems like it is comprised of mostly thirty-somethings and some forty-somethings (since, as many in these age groups do, it seems you have to have access to money or a line of credit to finance this lifestyle, too).

Lastly, and I’ll admit it. I’m intimidated by the sometimes, fascinating good looks of some of these guys. And, THAT is one thing you’re either born with or you're not. And, don’t get me wrong here, I don’t consider myself a dog by any means (well, not in looks, certainly, and, in behavior – hopefully – rarely!), BUT I wasn’t born with the acutely good looks of some of these guys.

Man! And, when you get a group of these lightly/tightly-clad guys together, well, for me, it’s overwhelming. I just want to crawl under a rock. So, I do.

Well, I don’t literally crawl under a rock, but I’ll choose to stay home. Ah! One of the advantages of The Little Respite is I can participate when I want to and retract when I don’t. Thank God. Literally.

Big, Beautiful Bears!

So, in one of the more interesting turnovers in ‘Theme Weeks’ in P-town, as the Circuit Boys depart, the Bears (this image is so hysterically stereotypical!) descend.

Now, I love the Bears. For years, I didn’t get ‘it’. And, I was in the camp of people who weren’t attracted to them either; however, through both friends of mine who are attracted to this type and my own forays into the spaces Bears tend to gather (you know, ‘dens’ =:-) ), I’ve grown to appreciate them immensely.

Of course, like all subcultures, there are subcultures within the subculture, and not all are as endearing as others, but still – overall – Bears seem to be one of the most ‘real’ or ‘natural’ of guys within Gay culture. For lack of a better concept, there seems to be a true lack of ‘pretense’ that is such a prerequisite for most other segments of Gay male culture.

So, as I mentioned above, I ended up going to The A-House by myself later Saturday evening . . . alone . . .

It was, again, crowded, but with more Bears, though a mixed crowd, for sure. So, I text-ed a buddy of mine from the patio:

“I love bears!”

A short while later he texts back:

“Do you mind if I come down tomorrow and shower at your place after the beach?”

(He loves bears, too.) So, I text-ed back:

“Of course not! Come on out!”

I ended up leaving the dance bar and headed to the leather bar next door. It was crowded up there, too, but I didn’t see anyone I knew or anyone I’d probably end up speaking with, so I went down to the ‘little’ bar. I had ordered and was enjoying a beer when this guy ‘excused’ himself and asked if he could belly up to the bar to order a drink. I said:

“Sure.”

I was finishing up my beer and he asked if I’d like another. Reluctantly (Okay! Okay!), enthusiastically (Jeez! Tough crowd!), I said:

“Sure. Thanks.”

Well, he grabbed his beer and walked away. A little while later, I decided I’d mingle (something I don’t do well . . . I think it comes off more like I’m brooding. LOL!). Anyway, this guy spotted me again and came over to chat me up. Nice guy. BIG, tall (not heavy set) Bear. He liked my laugh, which made me laugh more.

So, we spoke some more, had a great evening together and exchanged phone numbers.

He’s from Dorchester. And, since he was just starting a week of what I get to spend almost every weekend doing, I figure I’ll call him when he’s back in DOT and take it from there.

And, it was nice meeting my first Bear ‘solo’. And, if he’s any indication, they (Bears) are pretty unpretentious and down-to-earth after all. Refreshing, to say the least.

So, that’s it folks! Summer 2007 is off to a fine start. Sunday evening, on my way back from seeing my friends off on to the 8:30 ferry, I met another local who I’d seen in town over the past few weeks.

Truly, it’s just nice making some truly human connections. Thank God for P-town. It’s the one place on earth (for any substantial length of time anyway), where I can truly be my big ol’ gay self and never have to feel confined or constricted . . . well, unless I choose to!

=;-)

As always, peace and enjoy!!!

Brothers and Men

2007-07-01T10:42:00.000-04:00

Brothers . . .

While on vacation with my brother’s family, while we’re each trying to unwind and decompress and leave the weight of the ‘real’ world behind us, there are moments when the descent into Paradise gets a little bumpy. Early on, there are these moments of forced relaxation that have the potential to turn into misunderstandings. These are moments when the day has gone on too long, when the humor gets a little too playful and the body, heart, mind and soul have become worn down by the too earnest desire to experience everything fully and well NOW!

Sunday evening there was such a moment. My brother had arrived for vacation after several intense days at work and home. Sunday he spent further prepping the place for the week and ended the day cooking dinner for us all. Near the end of dinner, I commented to my brother that he looked a little tired and I asked if he was all right. Apparently, I’d exposed a chink in the armor. Within in a couple of more awkward and increasingly tense verbal exchanges he rose from the table and went to bed.

‘The Wall’ had gone up.

Now, I have my moments, too. But, if you’ve learned nothing else about me from these ramblings, I hope I’ve expressed well enough how I no longer have the time to spend ‘pissing and moaning’ over things that I cannot control (BUT, if I chose to, I could let control me); and, more to the point, how important ‘relationships’ and ‘people’ are to me.

So, rather than let the old anxiety well up inside me, I decided to continue to reach out to my brother until it was time for ‘The Wall’ to come down.

I greeted him Monday morning with: “Good morning! It’s another beautiful day in ‘Paradise’.” At best, I think he bristled. . . . men . . .

So, I backed off. I had a great time with my sister-in-law’s sister and the kids. My sister-in-law was experiencing my brother’s cold shoulder treatment, too. But, as a part of being husband and wife, she was able to make inroads throughout the day.

Finally, she insisted that he approach me and make amends. So, by early evening, just before we were all supposed to go out for dinner, my brother came into my bedroom and apologized. I, too, apologized for my ignorance (at dinner, the night before, I had no idea what I’d said would resonate so strongly with him).

‘The Wall’ fell.

So, we picked up where we left off. I hated losing a day of ‘being’ with him. He and I have so few opportunities to ‘be’ with one another, and I cherish the few times a year we do.

So, we returned to laughing long and well, sharing wine and stogies, and swapping stories about the men we love: he – his ‘best friend’, Steve, who passed on August 11, 2003 of a heart attack while jogging at the age of 40, his college buddies and our father and his son, and me – besides the ‘men’ in my family, the men I’ve been physically intimate with, spent small ‘lifetimes’ with and the ‘love of my lives’.

We took turns playing our favorite CDs, walking down memory lane and creating new memories all the while. I love that we are friends and that we are now men.

Men . . .

Briefly, the misunderstanding between my brother and me got me to thinking about similar misunderstandings I’ve had with those men in my intimate life I’ve cared about, and often, loved deeply.

And, I was most impressed with my reaction to my brother’s ‘shutting me out’. This was new territory for me. Until recently, in the past when I’ve been ‘shut out’ – whether by my brother, my father, a lover or a friend – feelings of abandonment would manifest as waves of anxiety and as intensely as night terrors. It was truly awful.

Now, though I still care about what those I love ‘feel’ about me, I no longer take on their fear and their anger. I’ve learned that it is not ‘I’, but it is ‘they’ who must work out their stuff.

I still don’t like being ‘shut out’. I don’t understand it as a reaction. I think that is why I react so strongly to being ‘shut out’. Of all the reactions a human being can manifest in their ‘fear’ and ‘anger’, ‘shutting down’ and ‘shutting out’ are two things I’ve never understood and have rarely done (and, when I have, it’s been in reaction to being ‘shut out’ myself . . . I’ve learned nothing good comes from talking to a wall. Nothing . . . ). Whether for a moment or forever, I just think our lives are too short to intentionally ‘cut out’ of our lives those we love.

But, I have come to understand that there is something about how I communicate that ‘allows’ men, in particular, to react to me that way. I hate when it happens, and am trying to analyze it so that I can avoid these misunderstandings and subsequently being ‘shut out’. But, I actually think it has something to do with a natural course of events.

I think, through my own ignorance and my overwhelming capacity to love, I challenge men in ways I don’t even understand. But, again, I think it’s something I’ve been placed here to do.

In the end, ‘The Wall’ almost always comes down. Often the relationships are different, but, at least, the foundation of the relationship remains and is often strengthened. Sometimes, the fondness of heart wanes and then evaporates and the relationship ends. Sometimes, the men disappear . . .

And yet, sometimes, the relationship is deepened, the connection is reaffirmed and each one of us experiences acceleration in our individual emotional maturation, our personal growth as grown men.

For me, these are profound experiences. And, though they’re often uncomfortable, in the end, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thanks bro’. Thanks, guys. I love you all.

Wonder . . .

2007-06-27T21:54:00.001-04:00

Vacations are God’s way of telling me to slow down, to live deliberately and to realize my dreams . . .

So, once a year in mid-June, in what’s become an annual tradition, I vacation with my brother and his family on Cape Cod. My brother, his wife, her sister, my niece, my nephew and ‘yours truly’ pack up our favorite beach stuff, music, wine, etc. and head to the shore.

And, though we don’t always stay at the same place, we do have some set criteria. The house must feel like a ‘home’. There’s got to be plenty of space for us to spread out. And, most importantly, it must be on the water.

So, this year, on the first day of our vacation, my sister-in-law’s sister arrived first and gets the cottage opened, aired out and prepped. I show up awhile later and together we unpack some groceries and get a few more things in order. Then, intentionally, we stop to relax and to enjoy a cold beer while sitting on the deck overlooking the beach. And, so paradise begins to envelop us.

Evening approaches and my brother, sister-in-law and the kids arrive. They begin to unpack; we spark up the grill and begin to further unwind and relax.

While my sister-in-law and brother are unpacking groceries, I spot a bottle of “Stags’ Leap” among the many gifts that they’ve brought. I love “Stags’ Leap”. Two of my best friends introduced me to “Stags’ Leap” Cabernet Sauvignon while dining at Front Street in Provincetown. “Stags’ Leap” is like a drug, a good drug. Paired with a filet mignon, the combination is the closest thing to culinary heaven I’ve ever experienced. In my book, enjoying that culinary pairing ranks right up there with the best lovemaking: an experience to be savored.

Bunnies
Then, there is this family of bunnies. Throughout our stay, appearing right off the back deck, this family of six bunnies visited us daily. There’s “Big Daddy”, “Big Momma” and four little baby bunnies.

One of the babies, “Star”, (the one with the prominent white ‘spot’ on his or her forehead), practically mugs the camera. They just ‘hang out’ and nibble grass through the late afternoon and into the evening. They’re wonderful . . .

On Children and the “Beach Princess”

My nephew just turned seven and my niece will turn six in the fall. I love my nieces and nephews. And, I’ve grown to appreciate the wonder of their existence in light of the realities of the march of time. I don’t expect there to be any more progeny from my generation of siblings. So, I marvel at the gift of ‘the moment’ in which I get to witness my niece and nephew as young, hope-filled, innocent children.

My niece and nephew love the beach. And, this year’s vacation at the beach almost didn’t happen for them. This year was also the year of the obligatory “Disney World” vacation, which meant dad and mom didn’t have the financial resources to swing a vacation on the Cape, too.

Well, my sister-in-law’s sister and I caught wind of that and immediately decided we’d spring for a cottage rental. At some point in our maturation process as adults – if we’re lucky enough, I guess – we learn that life’s too precious to lose cherished moments to pragmatism.

So, once again, the kids gather their beach toys and head to the beach to dig for sea creatures and marvel at the wonders of nature. When they climb back up from the beach, my niece slips into this pink “Princess” dress complete with netting, taffeta, and sequins.

She sparkles and giggles as she runs around her kingdom surrounded by bunnies, daisies and beach roses. And so, again, I acknowledge how blessed and grateful I am. I cannot imagine not having this opportunity to revel in the wonder of my niece’s and nephew’s ‘being’.

Part of me has always wanted children of my own, but I’ve not been able to make the opportunity happen . . . yet. I wanted to share the experience with another man, with a husband, but it just hasn’t panned out. One day I may adopt children of my own. Among others, I am sure, Diane Keaton and Linda Ronstadt have both remained single and adopted children later in life, so there are precedents. I just don’t want to ‘abandon’ my children by passing when they’re still young, with so much of their lives ahead of them. The clock is ticking. We’ll see.

In the mean time, I will continue to look at life through the eyes of a wonder-filled child. I will do my best to continue to pursue my goal:

To always be in love with everything all the time.

It has taken me years to get here – and occasionally I still get ‘stuck’ in a bad ‘moment’, but they’re just that; ‘moments’ now – but, overall, I can’t imagine living my life in any other manner.

And now I know that each one of us has the ability to effect how we, as individuals, choose to ‘feel’ overall (general state of well being) and at any given moment (reaction to immediate stimuli). It is true that we each have the power to choose how we react to all things and, most importantly, how we ‘feel’ at any time.

So, I choose to feel love and joy, to experience wonder and to follow my bliss. And, as a reward, I’ve also been shown that it is within my power to believe – because I manifest ‘it’ to be so – that it is true; it is a wonderful life.

Family Ties

2007-06-22T06:08:00.000-04:00

Well, kids, guys and gals, friends and fellow bloggers, I'm more than likely 'off line' for the next several days. I'm heading to Cape Cod to spend several days with my brother and his family.

I'm actually looking forward to the respite with joy and blissful anticipation. As I get older, family gets more important to me. And, spending time with them becomes even more important. My brother's children are five (and a half!) (my niece) and seven (my nephew), so I'm trying to spend as much time with them as I can while there so young.

And, this week on the cape has become an annual tradition. It almost didn't happen this year, but 'yours truly' stepped in to make it so. I just couldn't imagine the tradition being broken in exchange for the obligatory trip to Walt Disney World, so I, along with my sister-in-law's sister, pooled our resources to rent this summer place this year.

Yay! Balsa wood planes, sand castles, cookouts, pale ale and stogies! And, relaxing for a change . . . I can't wait.

Hey, all take care and enjoy yourselves! Happy bloggin'!

"The stars are perfect . . . "

2007-06-20T04:10:00.001-04:00

Ugh! I can't sleep . . . again! BUT, not for any bad reason, but because "I'm alive! Maggie, The Cat is alive!" Oops! That's not where I was going . . . well, not exactly . . . anyway, I can't sleep and this dialog, this scene, has been resonating with me — once again — for days now. And, I wanted you to see it.

There are cinematic moments in life that help define who we are. I used to think I was 'Loretta'. Now, I know, I'm more 'Ronny'. I mean, we're all everybody, . . . but, ultimately we identify with certain 'souls'. Yeah . . . I'm 'Ronny'. Enjoy! And KNOW, somehow, some way, somewhere here and there in time, if you got my email to 'share' this, . . .

I love you . . . peace all . . . "Ain't life grand . . . ?"

RONNY: Come upstairs. I don't care why you come. No, that's not what I mean. Loretta, I love you. Not like they told you love is and I didn't know this either. But love don't make things nice, it ruins everything, it breaks your heart, it makes things a mess. We're not here to make things perfect. Snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. We are here to ruin ourselves and break our hearts and love the wrong people and die! The storybooks are bullshit. Come upstairs with me and get in my bed! Come on! Come on! Come on!

Okay! NOW, I can go to bed. And, actually, now I could die! LOL! I won't of course. I'm too MEAN to die! Kidding!!! Me? Mean?

Inappropriate? Maybe.

Over the top? Often!

But, 'mean'? Rarely . . . if ever?!

Love and peace and joy . . . 'me'

Is THAT the sun?! Ugh!

"I Want the Strongest of Angel's Wings"

2007-06-18T22:05:00.000-04:00

(a Blog post in Three Acts)

Author's Note: Today marked the culmination of another intense period of my life. I have never lived so fully, so deliberately, so well. I can't even begin to express my gratitude for the gifts that are continuously bestowed on me and placed in my path. Delusion or wonder, gift or handicap, I feel grateful for my unique view of the world. Please note, song 'snippets' are from Ms. Nicks. She's still on my mind and still inspiring me. Be moved all . . . I am . . . peace and love all ways . . .

Act One: "I'll track a ghost through the fog . . . "

I walked into the bar with two close friends and a minor forethought was instantly confirmed. Just to the left of the front door, chatting up the bouncer, he stood. We made eye contact and I swore his face held the expression of a man who'd seen a ghost. I leaned in and kissed him gently on his right cheek.

As I pulled back I asked: "How are you?"

He said: "I had a crazy week."

I said: "Don't be a stranger."

And there it all was again. A smile. A glance downward. We make eye contact and just stop for a moment.

My friends were getting a round of drinks at the bar. I introduced him to them when they came over with our beers. I turned from my friends and chatted with him for awhile longer. He kept smiling. He's a great smile . . . and I was conscious of not wanting to be rude to my friends and wanting to chat more with him, but decided it was best to let him know that I was around for the weekend, should he want to get together, but that I needed to rejoin my friends.

We reached out and patted one another's shoulder and arm. He leaned toward me with those eyes and kissed me on the lips . . . and then for a moment there it was again . . . a slip of the tongue . . . I leaned back and we each smiled at one another. I told him I had to go see my friends, but that I hoped to speak with him soon.

The next day, I emailed him with a couple of suggestions. I've not heard from him again, yet . . . but I was grateful for the moment to reconnect with the joy he originally brought to me . . . "I track a ghost through the fog . . . "

And to those that I love
Like a ghost through a fog
Like a charmed hour
And a haunted song
And the Angel of my dreams

Act Two: Soldiers

One has come to me through a synchronicity. Someone I'm just getting to know . . . stories of places of war and days and weeks of solitude. A beautiful soul.

The other is someone I don't know. And, he may not even be a soldier. But, what I saw this evening gave me pause, adoration, then anger and sorrow . . .

In the stretching room at the gym tonight, a tall, young and dark man came into sight. I saw his face. All dark and warm. A five o'clock shadow . . . dark and warm. And, I thought to myself: "Mm . . . what a striking man." Then in the periphery, I noticed something else again. For a moment I thought: "My, he's got skinny legs." But he walked with such command, dignity and grace. Then as my eyes drifted down his long, trim torso, then down toward his thighs, I saw he was wearing these -- sort of stilts (Prostheses) -- from the knee down. So . . . I then noticed his left arm ended just below the elbow. Yet I couldn't help notice how strong and confident he was also. He was an inspiration . . .

I couldn't help but glance over at him now and then. I was struck by how he did everything he can. Later I found him, working out in the weight room. So tall, dark and handsome, I couldn't help but love him.

Then I became saddened . . . and angry. Yet, he didn't wince. He kept lifting and curling using all of his strength.

He left the weight room and I never worked out so hard. I kept holding back tears, as I worked myself hard. I wanted to feel every muscle, every joint, every stretch. I made love to myself, to those weights, to those men. I vowed I would never take my body for granted. Though he would always be more handsome and, evidently, more thoughtful, I vowed I would never forget him and would always be thankful.

For I learned tonight . . . today, there's so much to be thankful for when it seems things don't go our way. I thank you, guy, wherever you may be. I thank you for keeping going and for looking at me . . .

So where is my father,
Where has he gone
Where is my husband
Where is my son
Where is my father
Where has he gone
What is it that happened here,
Is it real...This war...
This can't be happening

Act Three: The Loss of a Namesake

And, today, one of my staff, someone who shares my name, gave his notice today. I make it a practice to not post about work, but tonight I made a small exception.

I won't discuss my feelings about what's happening at work here, but -- suffice it to say -- life is different now.

And, though I will miss his enthusiastic nature, his reverently 'irreverent' ways, most of all I will miss his daily dose of 'BIG HEART'. He's married and the father of two. He's a great man. And, now, a good friend. I'll miss seeing you everyday, but I will not 'miss' you. For you, my friend, are not a ghost . . .

If I see you again
Will it be over
If I see you again
Will it be the same
If I see you again
Will it be over
Again and again
Over and over

Ritual . . .

2007-06-18T00:55:00.000-04:00

tradition, addiction, adulation, idoltry . . . I think all these words apply to a Stevie Nicks concert.

Stevie is touring promoting a retrospective of her work from 1974's "Sorcerer" (first recorded for release on 2001's "Trouble In Shangri-La") through her contributions to Fleetwood Mac, as well as a number of older covers and even a new cover: "Rock n Roll".

The first time I saw Stevie was probably in 1984 when she was touring to promote "The Wild Heart" from which "Stand Back" was the 'big hit'. Since then I've probably seen her seven or eight times either solo or with Fleetwood Mac.

And, 23 years later, I'm not sure if I've ever seen her more in command. And, she's still obviously having a ball.

Though I never unearthed an explanation, while Stevie was touring with Fleetwood Mac to promote the 2003 release of "Say You Will" she wore these 'flats'; shoes that almost looked like orthopedic shoes. So, it was a pleasant surprise (and kind of a silly guilty pleasure of sorts) to see her wearing her signature high heeled boots again. In fact, the baseball cap, one of the T-shirts and the back cover of the program all sported the phrase "The boots are back!".

Long and short of it, if you're a 'fan' of Stevie's, you're never disappointed regardless. Coming full circle, it is still amazing to me the level of devotion she brings out in her fans.

A young buddy of mine accompanied me to the show tonight. At 26, he's literally young enough to be my son (and the irony that tonight's show occurred on Father's Day didn't escape me). I'm 47 and, as I stated above, have been going to see Stevie for about 23 years. My friend was only three years old when I first saw Stevie 'live'.

Anyway, he had never seen her in concert and really enjoyed watching the 'ritual' for the first time. He commented that her signature 'twirls' made her look so cute. And, didn't know that the final song (before the encore) is always "Edge Of Seventeen" and includes this walk across the stage shaking hands with fans and accepting flowers and gifts from the crowd.

And, apparently there's no stopping Stevie! If I did the math right, she just turned 59. Regardless of what you may think of her and her music, it is a testament to her perseverance that she's still performing strong and never utters a negative or ill word about anyone.

And, for the first time, (particularly as she shared that "Landslide" is really about her family), I realized that she's grown older gracefully. I think there's a lesson for me in there somewhere, too. I'm not old yet, but "I'm getting older, too." For sure! And, I hope to master it the way Stevie has. She is an inspiration.

Peace all! And, "Enjoy!"

"It's good enough for me to be the light in a black out!"

2007-06-15T00:09:00.001-04:00

This is just one of many very funny lines I identified with at the Boston premiere of "Kiki & Herb" playing at the Stanford Calderwood Pavillion at the BCA in Boston's South End.

True to my maturing penchant for all things 'spontaneous', I got a call from a friend who'd received comp tickets to tonight's show and wanted to know if I'd join him and a couple of our other friends.

I'm not a theater goer, so I hesitated for only a moment before I thought: "What the hell?!" It's free and I get to see my good friends.

And, I'm glad I did. I mean, I was watching the show and laughing throughout while still able to be 'beside' myself and analyze the show. I mean, I wouldn't typically go see a show like "Kiki & Herb" (which was nominated for a Tony Award and, according to Kiki tonight, they lost to a 'puppet'?!), but, it was downright funny while still being topical and, at times, heartfelt.

I'm a bit too concrete to truly appreciate 'drag' and glitter (I get confused when people 'mask' true emotion with sarcasm and humor, but I know it makes reality easier for most folks to deal with if it's 'disguised' and; therefore, diffused, rather than dealt with head on.)

Anyway, I highly recommend it.

Other great concepts and lines included:

"You should just get up, eat your cereal and be nice!"

And, my favorite, while Kiki was waxing about the evolution of Gay culture, getting to the 90's she said something like: "And, then gays got greater visibility. And, then their own TV shows. (And with a slightly derisive tone added:) Now, THERE'S some quality television!" I howled.

If you get the chance, check out "Kiki & Herb". It's funny and not as seemingly over the top as it might first appear.

Okay. I'm off to bed! Dinner at Picco afterward was a fun idea, but makes for a slightly later night than I'd prefer on a school night.

Peace all! And, enjoy . . .

Oh! And, I almost forgot another delightful tidbit. I mean, who couldn't love a 'show' subtitled "The Year of Magical Drinking Tour". (Watch out! This site begins with a video clip!)

on fire . . .

2007-06-12T18:12:00.000-04:00

Well, the 'muse' has returned 'BIG TIME'. I've been getting these things like weekly lately. Anyway, uh . . . I'm BIG on the spiritual, the metaphysical, the 'stuff' we can't see, BUT I have to believe exists (or I would not get through).

So, one of those 'things' (beliefs) is the effects of the phases of the moon . . . new moons effect men more than women. And, like their more notable FULL phase, new moons (when there appears to be no moon, but the sky -- especially in the desert -- becomes blanketed by stars) has equally intense, but quieter, more internalized effects on all. The next one is up this Thursday and is the annual new moon in Gemini.

And, at least for me, its onset gave birth to this:

New Moon Comin’
(5:04 PM - 5:46 PM)

Each day I get a little
quieter inside.
But, I don’t mind the nervous chatter
going on at the same time.
‘Cause it always leads to something new
even if it shakes me up along its way,
knocks me down and leaves me blue
yet, leaves with something meaningful to say.

Each night I get a little
closer to my heart.
And, I’ve learned to welcome the pounding
feeling like I’ll come apart.
Yes. It always leads to something more,
even if it takes me down, some cold dark nights,
drowns my fire and steals my breath,
makes me almost want to give up the fight.

CHORUS
But, it’s a New Moon Comin’.
See the stars command the sky.
Yes, it’s a New Moon Comin’.
You can’t stop it if you try.
Sometimes you need to let things go.
Let them fall by the wayside.
For when a New Moon’s Comin’
some things are not ours to decide.

Each month I gain a little
more patience myself.
And, I know it’s okay. It’s alright
putting things up on the shelf.
Yes. It’s often wise letting some things be
even if it breaks you down for a short time,
leaves you cold and all alone.
The new moon passes. Our hopes take flight.

(repeat CHORUS, fade)

All The Ways That I Want You

2007-06-11T22:32:00.000-04:00

Bruce Cockburn is one of the more underrated singer/songwriters of our time. And, his 1994 "Dart To The Heart" is an exceptional collection and a fine introduction to his work. From that compilation, here's a song that I rediscovered when recently compiling music for a special event. Anyway, I kept hitting "replay" so figured it MUST be good enough to share. Enjoy all! Peace.

P.S. And, once again, this is about someone and no one, everybody and nobody in particular.

P.S.S. OK. I'm used to my heart always aching, but my nipples STILL hurt?! Guys, what's with that?! OUCH! Ah! I'm a sensitive one in everyway! LOL! Ouch . . . hmmm . . . =;-)

Listen at Rhapsody . . . click the "Play" button below, then hit your browser's "Back" button to read the lyrics . . . "

All The Ways I Want You by Bruce Cockburn

The hills are full of secrets.
Owls watch by night.
Down in town the bars are full
and the drunks are picking fights.
These are things I know.
But, the facts are filtered through
All The Ways I Want You . . .
All The Ways I Want You.

2:19 freight train
moaning somewhere near.
I see you in the distance,
but I can't get there from here.
Hard to believe it's happening,
but my whole world's shrunken to
All The Ways I Want You . . .
All The Ways I Want You.

Stars look down and laugh at me.
I ought to take a bow.
Don't have to tell them life's hard sometimes.
There's one falling now.
Nobody's here beside me
I can talk about it to . . .
All The Ways I Want You . . .
All The Ways I Want You . . .
All The Ways I Want You . . .

They Truly Don’t Make Them Like That Anymore

2007-06-10T23:52:00.001-04:00

“You know what I feel like? I feel all the time like “A Cat On A Hot Tin Roof”. – Maggie, The Cat and . . . yours truly . . .

Call me crazy or ‘lost in time’, but as hard as I try to find modern day role models in popular culture to emulate, and who – unbeknownst to them – mentor me in my daily existence, I just can’t find them. And, maybe I’m just too critical or harsh in judgment, but when I see some movie star who’s physically attractive (and, I know this is all based on individual and personal perception), why am I so often disappointed when he or she opens their mouth?

And I know this is a dicey topic when even I’ve now thrown myself into the fray by publishing my own personal thoughts, but I’m just always disappointed by the apparent and intentional lack of ‘self editing’.

Somehow, ‘adults’ don’t seem like ‘Adults’ to me anymore.

And I know that the individuals I do admire were, at times, considered shameful and reckless in their day, but at least they seemed real, human, vulnerable and were willing to ‘love’ someone else publicly, to take a gamble. In other words, the ‘big stars’, the potential role models of today – with few exceptions – seem to be admired for their love of themselves, but few for their ability to, at least try to, truly love another (with the possible exception of Brad Pitt, because of his controversial relationship with Angelina Jolie).

“Be careful, Maggie. Your claws are showin’.” – Brick to Maggie, The Cat

I’m not even going to bother listing the individuals in today’s Hollywood that prove this, because all you have to do is tune into “Access Hollywood”, “Extra!”, or log into your email browser to get the news on the ‘hot’, ‘attractive’, ‘troubled’, and, hopelessly narcissistic and single. Besides my ability to empathize, I have to do my part to help folks maintain some level of human dignity so; I won’t perpetuate their messes here.

Don’t get me wrong here either. Yours truly is single, too. And, it has some great benefits. I never thought I’d learn to ‘like’ being single, but there are parts of it that I do enjoy when handled responsibly.

“Living with somebody you love can be . . . lonelier than living entirely alone . . . when the one you love doesn’t love you.” – Maggie, The Cat

I truly would like to meet ‘my match’ and share this life experience (or, at least, significant parts of it) with someone else. But, he eludes me for now. Yet, I am still enchanted by more than one man who each touches something deep in the soul of me. And though reciprocated on some level, none of them are capable of the same level of reciprocation that I am; yet I love them all equally and deeply.

“Skipper’s the only thing I have left to believe in!” – Brick to Big Daddy

I don’t know. Perhaps it’s a unique experience to ‘yours truly’, but every now and then there are those unique men that God places in my path that cause me to resonate like a dowsing fork at found water. And, God bless them, most of them have no idea . . . But man, I LOVE the feeling!

“Will you put some honey on this?” – Big Daddy to Maggie, The Cat

So, who are my role models? Well, I realized I rarely want to identify with most characters or ‘reality stars’ on television. They’re often, at best, two dimensional, vapid and superficial. Again, call me ‘harsh’ or ‘judgmental’, but I have to believe there’s more to life than just finding the next ‘great lay’, big laugh or ‘feel good’ moment. (And, being honest with and human myself, I have pursued, and most probably will again, all of the aforementioned – each and every one – myself.)

So, beyond the spiritual and within the third-dimension, I emulate the folks from the heyday of the ‘big screen’. At least they’re larger than life, often have amazing life experiences and often experience ‘happy endings’.

Who are my favorites? Well, they’re Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman. There’s also Rock Hudson and James Dean (Really?! You think?). But, there’s something about this era of American experience, the late 1950s, which I identify with, and as, ‘The Best of the Best’, in terms of a demonstration of authentic American human emotion in both the art and the real life foibles of these actors.

Back then folks were hopeful and reckless, yet innocent and naive. And, in no short order, they learned to ‘self edit’ in order to survive and thrive while being true to themselves. They were capable of exhibiting both a sense of mystery and, something we seem to no longer appreciate as a culture today: human dignity.

“Let’s don’t leave it like this, like all them other talks we’ve had. We always seem to talk around things. We seem to leave things unsaid and unspoken, but now we got to talk straight.” – Big Daddy to Brick

So, as for me, as much as I ‘give away’ of myself via these posts, there will always be a huge well of stuff that is ‘mine’ (and that of a few confidants that I know, love and cherish).

Well, these are just some things to ponder: maintaining a sense of mystery and dignity, mastering the art of self-editing and considering some things ‘sacred’. They’re just one man’s thoughts . . . and hopes.

“Why did Brick hang up on me? Why?” – Skipper’s last words.

And, ‘he’ may or may not ever appear in my lifetime, but ‘they’ (the men I love) are wonder-filled and often good to me here and now. And, I’m grateful for that much, for them. It’s a lot. And, it’s a lot more than many other people ever get to experience. Truthfully, for now, I have ‘enough’.

“Truth is something desperate and Maggie’s got it. Believe me. It is desperate and she has got it.” – Brick to Mae (‘Sister Woman’)

It IS the "Little Things" after all! Isn't it?

2007-06-07T19:18:00.001-04:00

Okay. This one’s gonna be pretty ‘lite’ for me. I can’t do ‘superficial’ (at least I hope not and, more importantly, hope NEVER to come across that way), but, yeah, even I can do light.

And, this may even sound ‘dumb’ to the aficionados out there, but I just discovered the best part of iTunes to me. I’ve been playing with it since I bought my (currently coma’d) iPod last May. But, just recently decided to ‘cash in’ a couple of my iTunes gift cards to download some ‘albums’ that I either couldn’t find on CD or, and more significantly, had ‘no idea’ how to time efficiently and cost effectively purchase in a store.

College and Debussy, Ravel and Fauré

A little known fact about my life is that I’d originally attended New York University’s School of Education, Health, Nursing and Arts Professions to enroll in one of the country’s first ever Music Business and Technology programs which would then enable me to become a rich and wildly famous record producer. Besides discovering that I apparently lacked the self-confidence and the technical brawn and brain to master things like ‘sight singing and ear training’, I also discovered that what I’d ‘played around with’ in middle and high school turned out to be something I, evidently, was going to dedicate myself to forever: men.

Anyway, being 18 in 1978 and being me, I was – to say the very least – conflicted (read also ‘guilty’, ‘ashamed’, ‘scared’). So, as a result of these mini-revelations, I eventually changed majors, but never really lost my love for music. During those first two years of college, I also discovered that music school wasn’t going to teach me the ‘heart’ part of music, which is the part I excel at.

But, as I am so often want to do, I tried! I remember locking myself in these little claustrophobic rooms with tiny upright pianos in both the 10th Street Brittany dorm and the school’s music floor writing my own little song or practicing piano.

Again, I tried.

And, at some point I wrote a paper about “The Little French Song” and got introduced to Debussy, Ravel and Gabriel Fauré. Anyway, I loved the concept and the little bit of music I heard of these composers.

Back Track to Debussy and Fauré in 1976

And, back in 1976, Barbra Streisand had released “Classical Barbra”, apparently (as I recall) to the chagrin of many ‘serious’ classical musicians. I was then 16 years old, two years away from heading to ‘The Big Apple’ and NYU and a fan of Barbra Streisand and her music. Today, I can take her or leave her, but there’s a small string of ‘chestnut’ recordings she produced in the early to mid-seventies that I still revisit from time-to-time.

The best of these include: ‘Barbra Joan Streisand’, which was produced by Richard Perry.

Most every song on this ‘rock’ debut is amazing; however, I’m always riveted by “Space Captain”. Though I don’t own the ‘record’, I also really loved “Stony End” from this period. And, the last of these records I mainly overall liked was “Lazy Afternoon”, primarily for the title track. To this day, I can sing it to myself and be in that summer’s day.

But, it was “Classical Barbra” that really sparked my interest in “The Little French Song". It may not be a ‘technically’ great classical performance, but as classical ‘pop’ it fills the bill.

The ‘Wonder’ of iTunes

So, I redeem my gift cards and download Linda Ronstadt’s “Mad Love” and Aretha Franklin’s “hey now hey (the other side of the sky)” produced by Quincy Jones. And, a couple of days later I decide to listen to the ‘vinyl’ version of “Classical Barbra”. (Yes folks, I have a direct drive (not belt-driven) Technics turntable circa 1981 that’s in pristine condition and works as good as the day I bought it! Sometimes, even I can get it right!)

And then, it hits me: “iTunes!”

So, I “Power Search” (whatever?!) ‘Barbra Streisand’ and “Classical Barbra” and there it is!

I guess for some licensing reasons, it’s missing the opening Debussy “Beau Soir” track (“bummer!”), so I may have to see if I can find the CD somewhere after all. BUT, I got most of it!

Then, and this probably sounds really sad and/or stupid, but I’d never bought a classical recording of anything Debussy, Ravel or Fauré, simply because there were so many options and I had no idea how to find one I liked.

And then, it hits me: “iTunes!”

So, I “Power Search” (whatever?!) ‘Debussy’ and there they are! There are like hundreds of recordings, but then I realize I can ‘preview’ any one of them. So, while eating breakfast, I start poking around and listening. (I guess this is the layman’s version of searching for the painting that matches the couch!) And, lo and behold, I don’t like most of what I hear.

THEN, I stumble on Paul Jacobs Debussy: Préludes for Piano, Books I & II.

And, as I’m also so want to do, I fall in love. For all I know, these Paul Jacobs recordings may be considered hack, but it doesn't matter, 'cause when I fall, I fall!

So, finally, at the age of 47, I’ve found ‘listenable-to-me’ renditions of Debussy compositions AND get a pristine recording of MOST of Barbra Streisand’s “Classical Barbra” (31 years later!). AND, (and I know this is SO un-cool), I ‘burned’ CDs of all three recordings and have them on ‘All discs’, ‘Shuffle’, ‘Repeat’ and am just in a state of grace. I love that! BTW, this isn't 'lite', it's just boring, but I love that, too!

Fall . . .

2007-06-05T04:33:00.000-04:00

I almost pulled this, but decided it has a right to stand on its own. It's about several someones and, then again, no one, everybody and nobody in particular. A sum composite of wonderful experiences and full out fantasy. Hell, if this were all one man, I wouldn't be single! Enjoy, all!

(I 'found' this one in the wee small hours of the morning.)

I just want to lay him
down and take him in.
Do I love him? I don’t know.
I just know I want him.

I just love to take my tongue
and place it deep inside him,
then watch him writhe and hear him moan
as I step back then slip inside him.

Then darkness falls and shadows come
that cause us to question.
We ponder what is right and wrong.
Our hearts and minds start second guessing.

Still I hold him down
and the room spins ‘round.
My eyes wide open
as he looks down.

Eyes tightly shut,
his head flies backward.
In that moment,
we forget all that’s been awkward.

He pulls me in and holds me tight.
I stay still as he’s wrapped around me.

And, then a whimper . . .

I always know the moment when I fall,
yet, it somehow still astounds me.

James Dean, John Hiatt & J.D. Souther

2007-06-03T15:03:00.001-04:00

So, I walk a little too fast and I drive a little too fast.
And I’m reckless it’s true, but, what else can you do at The End of a Love Affair?

Those lyrics just ‘popped’ into my head . . . great song . . .

James Dean

Anyway, it was hot and sticky and so was I. (THIS is such a BAD line . . . but I love IT! It sums it all up. Yet, it’s hysterically BAD! Ah! The melodrama!)

I’d left work on Friday, gone to the gym, and then to “Tar‘Gay’” @ S. Bay. After running my errand, I came back to my car, stripped down to my gym shorts, socks and running shoes and then rubbed on some SPF 15 and jumped into “Mia” the Miata, top down, to head to “The Little Respite”.

I’d let the city get the best of me: too many people, too much noise, too much heat and too little love.

Top down, blaring my latest mix, “Jangle 2” (BTW, a mix totally for ‘me’ for a change), chock full of 12-string electric Rickenbacker guitar and Tom Petty (‘Too Much Ain’t Enough’, ‘My Baby’s A Rock ‘n’ Roller’, ‘Listen To Her Heart’, ‘You Wreck Me’ (prophetic), ‘Somethin’ Big’), Stevie Nicks (‘Needles and Pins’ (w/ T. Petty), ‘Imperial Hotel’, ‘Violet and Blue’, ‘Fall From Grace’) and The Pretenders’ Chrissie Hynde (‘Human’, ‘Never Do That’), to name a few, I headed onto 93 S.

I was agitated (I hate being shut out). And, I was impatient (I ‘needed’ to get out of Dodge . . . NOW!). So, I began merging over to the furthest and fourth left lane. I squeeze into the second lane. Cars were bumper-to-bumper. I get into the third lane. It was hot and sticky. The sun’s bearing down. Then, I as I try to slip between a small red car slowing down in front of me and a black SUV speeding up behind me in the fourth lane, I hear it:

“Crunch!”

James Dean: "That guy's gotta stop... He'll see us."

I’d been hit.

Nothing major.

Driver’s side door got a dent. The rear fender got three. The ‘hub’ of the wheel rim got blackened by tire rubber.

So, me and my new, and unsolicited, compadre (He was great, BTW. A truly ‘human’ being. Thank God for the angels that walk this earth.), pull off at the next exit. En route, I stop traffic, literally, as I’m pulling across four lanes with my accomplice in tow. I loved it. It was a moment to be savored. Of course, the usual bit players were pointing their fingers at me and yelling things at me that were not helpful . . . or true.

And yeah, ultimately, I’d f*cked up! But, sh!t happens, yet the other guy was cool. His 20-year old SUV got nothing more than a pencil’s length scratch. I probably incurred about $1,000 damage, at a time when I can least afford it.

But, you know what?

I didn’t and don’t care.

And I drive . . . a little too fast . . .
But, what else can you do . . . at The End of a Love Affair?

I mean, putting all things into perspective, it’s a stupid car. It can be fixed. Other things that are broken can’t.

There’s Something Broken in my heart.
Oh, It was nothin’ you’d done.
There’s something Broken in my heart.
I guess that it’s just the way it comes.
There’s Something Broken in my heart.
Somethin’ I just can’t fix.
There’s Something Broken,
. . . there’s Something Broken in my heart . . .

-- the inimitable John Hiatt . . . Thank you, sir.

So, I recovered immediately. Oddly, I sort of enjoyed it. As a ‘boy scout’, I love it when I do something ‘bad’ . . . unintentionally, of course . . . something ‘wrong’. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel vulnerable and alive.

I screw up. But, I try hard . . . too hard . . . hmph . . .

BUT, at least, I try.

J.D. Souther

Prisoner In Disguise

You think the love you never had might save you.
But, true love takes a little time.
You can touch it with your fingers . . .
and try to believe your eyes.
Is it love or a lie?

So, you’re keeping your distance,
a little bit of room around you.
And, if he doesn’t return your call on time . . .
oh, my, my . . .

You just act like a fool on a holiday.
There’s nothin’ that you wouldn’t try.
You must be a Prisoner In Disguise

Well, this nightlife is my life,
but, there’s no one else in it.
And, sometimes the lonesome breezes blow . . .

Well, it’s ‘no show’.
So, you might as well go,
if you think you could win it
without losin’
and letting it show . . .

This city is no place to hide in.
Everybody knows your number.
And, you know that
you could never be alone . . .
if you tried.

You just run like a man with no reason to love . . .
and no place to ever arrive.
You must be a prisoner.
You look just like a prisoner.
Well, honey, you must be a Prisoner In Disguise

“Did that just happen?!”

2007-05-30T20:45:00.000-04:00

Who knew that an old dog like me could still turn the head of a 20 something?

Don’t get me wrong here. I don’t think I’m interested in dating someone almost half my age. I always think there’s something ‘creepy’ about that.

Truthfully, I prefer the true 30 and 40 somethings. (Not that I’m ever dating any. I mean, I’m not good at that, but we’ll save that for another post. And, for now, it’s truly an observation only!)

But, back to my preference, I prefer ‘Men’. Just love ‘em!

But, the real point here is that I can still attract the attention of very attractive and much younger guys. You see. I’m not very good at picking up on those vibes. Period.

Reaffirmation . . .

However, I recently reaffirmed what I’ve always known:

I’m WAY too good at making up my own vibes and, unintentionally, ‘projecting’ them onto others that I think are attractive and, so, obviously(?!), they’re feeling the same way about me. How do I know this?

Because I ‘think’ so.

I know! I know! I’m TOO 'generous' (read ‘delusional’). (Note to self: This is NOT a good trait, BTW. And, while we’re at it, another note to self: Your thoughts are YOUR thoughts and you can’t read other people’s hearts or minds. Ever!)

Side discussion with myself . . .

“See ‘self’, just because YOU’RE ‘in love’ with everyone and everything doesn’t mean that other people are gonna ‘get’ that. Most people think conventionally, so when you say 'I love you.' or 'I’m in love with you.' they then think you’re going to ask them to marry you.”

Outside the box . . .

But, I can think conventionally, too. So, I understand that this “I’m in love with you/everyone/everything” thing can be unsettling, particularly if the sum objects of your (pure) ‘affection’ include co-workers, your boss, your ex-es, even your parents or, best yet, total strangers . . . poor things.

I get it! It can be terrifying, I suppose.

And, even downright disturbing if you you’re thinking conventionally and literally. But wonder-filled if you stray outside the box.

“Hello! It’s me! I’m ‘outside’ the box. Yoo-hoo! Hi! Remember me? Hello? Somebody . . . anybody . . . throw me a rope!”

And, back to “Did that just happen?!”

But, TODAY, it was so obvious. It was like this 20 something and I were tossing a ball back and forth between one another.

So, what happened?

Well, because of my tight schedule these days, I opted for a compressed work out at the gym during the lunch hour. So, I’m coming into the lobby and meet a dear friend of mine as she’s about to leave.

So, we start talking and these two people walk behind my friend. I happen to look over my friend’s shoulder and make eye contact with this really attractive 20 something (or 30 something . . . when you get my age, everyone considered old enough to be an adult below the age of 40 looks like a 20 something. And, that’s a compliment, not a slight.).

So, I’m like thinking to myself (while desperately trying to appear to my friend like I’m listening to her):

“Did a 20 something, (who’s probably a 30 something), really just cruise me?”

So, still desperately trying to convince my friend that I’m listening to her, I turn my head to the right toward the doors that leave my building and this kid (20 something who’s probably really a 30 something) looks back and smiles a little over his shoulder at me.

(Oh! I almost forgot that – just like I do while I’m savoring a wonderful meal, (and let’s not read more into it, folks) – I DID, somewhat subconsciously, make this slightly more audible “Mm-mm” sound, as he passed behind my friend, than I might typically make. (Remember, I’m an ‘old’ dog, but a loyal and most often sweet one.) So, THAT may have played into this a bit. I just now remembered I made that sound. Since I’m getting older, my memory’s going. And, on a completely different note, I don’t care what people think, since I’m not letting anything – but others’ own trepidation – come between me and my experience of ‘joy’. Nothing!)

So, by this time, my friend (who may know me better than anyone) clearly knows I’m barely sharing the same space as her, never mind, listening any longer.

So, I tell her:

“This kid just cruised me!”

And, she’s like:

“Are you listening to me?”

Then, I notice, for a third time, this 20 something gives me a huge and lengthy double take and we’re making eye contact and both smiling ear to ear. If he’d been my age, he would have most certainly strained his neck. Ah! Sweet Bird of Youth!

Then I hear this voice beside me ask:

“Do I have your attention yet?!”

I snap out of it long enough to say to the owner of ‘the voice’, my friend:

“No.”

And, then I turn back to the door to see the 20 something at the bottom of the stairs on the sidewalk, while the young woman he’s with has TURNED AROUND and is coming back up the stairs to check ME out!

He’s at the bottom of the stairs, embarrassed, and waving her to come back down.

She does. And, they leave together.

My friend gets my (almost) undivided attention back.

Yet, in the back of my mind, I can’t help but think:

“Well, you’ve still got it! Who knew?!”

“Are you still there?”

2007-05-27T20:41:00.000-04:00

This is the quote from the last voice I hope NOT to hear.

I like to joke with ‘true’ friends about my final moments on the planet: the moment when I die.

And, my favorite part of the joke is: “I hope the last voice I hear is NOT the voice of the voice mail ‘system’ asking:

'Are you still there?'”

I know it’s morbid, but, I think it’s hysterical, at the same time.

Don’t forget. I was born with the moon in Scorpio, so all things ‘death’ and ‘sex’ (of which I truly never share, deeply, anywhere . . . ever . . . with but a select few) are always wonderfully ‘present’ and – in perspective – special to me.

Anyway, then I came across this interview from the “Charlie Rose”
PBS television show with Dr. Sherwin Nuland when I was last in P-town (BTW, “The Little Respite” that ‘choked’, for an evening anyway! LOL!).

Well, my favorite part of the interview is when Charlie asks Dr. Nuland what the worst way to die would be.

The answer?

Well, it blew me away.

I thought it would be like:

“In combat.”

“In a car accident.”

“At the end of a knife wielded by ‘the love of your life’.” (Hot! But. NOT . . . unless you’ve seen The Driver's Seat, and, well, that isn’t ‘love’, but it’s still kind of ‘Hot!’)

Well, anyway, the ‘answer’ was worse than that:

“Alone.” (Fast forward to time stamp 11:42 and play through 12:31)

Now, friends, family and foes alike, don’t get me wrong . . . this is just a ‘musing’, and yet, an affirmation of how things ‘play out’.

And, synchronistically or, if you prefer, ‘coincidentally’, folks born with the moon in Scorpio often die alone (in foreign ‘locales’ (to them), no less . . . go figure?!). Which, all things considered, just ‘is’.

But, I find it fascinating to watch play out . . .

And, don’t get the wrong idea.

I’m not feeling sorry for those of us born with the moon in Scorpio; like myself, my dad or Elizabeth Taylor . . . it’s just the way it is.

And, fascinatingly, it manifests itself differently for each one of us. For James Dean, it was the behind the wheel of a sports car at the age of 24.

Ah! The ‘fate’ and the ‘fury’.

More please!

And, for reasons I can’t explain here, now, I had a wonder-filled and exhausting weekend on "The Hill" that I WOULD live again and again, if I had the chance.

IT was simply AMAZING. It’s the most unique Memorial Day weekend I’ve ever spent . . . and, perhaps, the most rewarding. We’ll see . . . !

Peace, love and light to all.

This Is Not Goodbye . . .

2007-05-24T22:58:00.000-04:00

For the first time in ages, inspired by 1) the meeting, greeting and leaving of a new friend, 2) the shit at work and 3) the missteps last week between another significant 'he' and me, I've written a new lyric. Here's it is . . .

Thursday, May 24, 2007 -- 6:33 AM - 6:51 AM

This Is Not Goodbye

This is a time for moving on
and a time for looking 'round,
a time to gather our friends around
and raise our voices and sing this song.

This is a time for letting go
and a time for drawing close . . .
a time to notice what we love the most
and hold dear what we know . . .

CHORUS:

That This Is Not Goodbye.
It's 'See you later.' And, 'Have a great time.'
And, when I see you 'round the next time,
you'll know This Is Not Goodbye.

This is a time for loving you
and a time to, once again, tell you so,
a time to feel you warm inside my arms,
so when you walk away you'll always know . . .

CHORUS:

That This Is Not Goodbye.
It's 'See you later. Thank you for your time.'
And, when you see me, the next time,
you and I, we will always know, This Is Not Goodbye . . .
This Is Not Goodbye.
No. This Is Not Goodbye . . .

“Small moves, Ellie. Small moves.” A Little Astrology Lesson and T.I.R.P.

2007-05-20T20:45:00.000-04:00

"Because I can’t. I had an experience. I can’t prove it. I can’t even explain it. But, everything that I know as a human being, everything that I am tells me that it was real. I was given something wonderful, something that changed me forever, a vision of the universe that tells us, undeniably, how tiny and insignificant and how rare and precious we all are, a vision that tells us that we belong to something that is greater than ourselves that we are not, that none of us are alone. I wish I could share that. I wish . . . that everyone, if even for one moment, could feel that awe and humility and a hope, but . . . that continues to be my wish."

Saturday night I revisited “Contact” with Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey (1997). The movie is ten years old. Yet, I was struck by its relevance today. And, when I say ‘relevance’, I mean personal and universal.

First, synchronicity . . . I was struck by the fact that the main character has lost her father at a young age. And, synchronistically, I know three close friends – all within two years of age of one another – who’ve lost their fathers at ‘young’, but differing ages.

My dad, on the other hand, is still very much alive. Recently, he was diagnosed with Frontal Lobe Dementia (FLD). I am very thankful and grateful that my dad is still here. I love my dad. He’s a close friend. I’ve always kissed him on the lips and hugged him when we say “Hello” and “Goodbye”. I will miss him intensely when he passes (though he’ll be with me more often then!). But, I am grateful that he’s still here, even if he’s beginning to fade away . . .

A Little Tangent on Astrology

And, I share a similar relationship with a very wonderful young friend of mine . . . We, too, kiss one another on the lips and hug one another when we say “Hello” and “Goodbye”. The connection? Each one of us was born when the moon was in Scorpio. And, though manifested differently, (because of the time and position of all the other planets in our charts at the time of our individual births), (natal chart),

we share a similar appreciation and comfortable space with one another, letting our individual emotional ‘intensity’ just ‘be’.

Dad’s a Sun Virgo and my young friend is a Sun Gemini. Both signs are ruled by Mercury. They extol Mercury’s grounded (Virgo – earth) and intellectual (Gemini – air) characteristics, whereas my Neptune-ruled, ‘water’ Pisces’ compounds the emotional and ‘sensitive’ characteristics of my, also 'water', Scorpio moon.

Moon in Scorpio is considered one of the more ‘difficult’ placements of the moon in one’s natal chart (all that emotional intensity can be off putting to others, for example.) BUT, I wouldn’t have it any other way! (As I’m sure other Moon Scorpios, like Elizabeth Taylor (Sun Pisces, Moon Scorpio, like yours truly)

and James Dean (Sun Libra, Moon Scorpio) would agree).

Most significantly, we each ‘feel’ like Scorpios, BUT more so, since the moon governs our early childhood experience and our emotions. I think the moon sign in one’s natal chart is more significant than our sun sign, but – unlike ancient astrology – modern astrology places greater significance on our sun signs: how we manifest in this third dimension life (world) more ‘generally’.

Where my relationships with my Dad and my young friend are concerned, it’s fascinating to me because our ‘expression’ or ‘manifestation’ -- between one another -- is the only timespace any one of the three of us feels completely ‘free’ to be our ‘emotional’ selves in such a way that we almost take it for granted. It’s like slipping into your favorite set of flannel pajamas on a cold winter’s night. We can’t ‘shock’ or overwhelm one another emotionally.

And, though I’ll save the details for another time, it’s a very similar feeling when I’m with my friends who were born with the Moon in Pisces. They ‘know’ how I ‘feel’ (as a Sun Pisces). Suffice it to say; those relationships are emotionally gentler and sweeter, as a result.

“Otherwise, it would be an awful waste of ‘Space”.

Back to the movie . . . “Contact” turns out to be a love story, too. I’d forgotten that. The subplot, the romance between Ellie Arroway (Jodie Foster) and Palmer Joss (Matthew McConaughey), is a romantic’s ideal of ‘opposites attract’. And, I think their relationship is a perfect example of ‘just the right amount of tension’ in a relationship:

“I know you. I love you. I have no idea who you are. That fascinates me. But, at the end of the day, I know you love me and I love you. And, that is all that really matters.”

Bliss . . .

T.I.R.P.

And, within the ‘hearing’ scene is one of Jodie Foster’s most amazing moments in the film. I always refer to it as the “T.I.R.P.” scene. It is the moment she states:

"Because I can’t. I had an experience. I can’t prove it. I can’t even explain it. But, everything that I know as a human being, everything that I am tells me that it was real. I was given something wonderful, something that changed me forever, a vision of the universe that tells us, undeniably, how tiny and insignificant and how rare and precious we all are, a vision that tells us that we belong to something that is greater than ourselves that we are not, that none of us are alone. I wish I could share that. I wish . . . that everyone, if even for one moment, could feel that awe and humility and a hope, but . . . that continues to be my wish."

Funny . . . that’s how I ‘feel’ everyday . . .

The Little Respite and My Own Little Song

2007-05-17T22:56:00.000-04:00

Ahh! The weekend (almost)! And, a return to ‘The Little Respite’.

Summer, (although the current weather situation doesn’t imply same), IS just around the corner. So, it’s time for me to head to my little corner of Paradise in P-town and do a little spring clean and plant some Impatiens, Dusty Miller, Petunias, Rosemary, Basil and Thyme for this summer’s stay by the sea. I’m looking forward to this summer. It will be filled with many wonderful moments. I can ‘feel’ that already.

And, it’s been quite a wonderful week. I had the opportunity to be challenged and challenge and come out the other end a bigger and brighter person for the experience. I am truly blessed. The people I draw to me are truly wonderful.

Tonight I got a call from THE ‘ex’. And, it was wonderful, too. We were going to spontaneously meet at his new place and then head out for dinner or a drink when he got a call, and then had to call me back to say he had to head back to his old place. Very sweetly, he said he wanted to get together and apologized for having – just as suddenly as our decision to meet up – to immediately reschedule.

I told him not to worry about it. Really! I mean, what’s the big deal?! So, we made plans to meet tomorrow afternoon. He’s now a stone’s throw from work. He’s off tomorrow, so it’ll be fun to reconnect in the middle of the workday. I’ve bought a bottle of wine, a card from Rockport, MA with a picture of several rowboats and dinghies all clustered together and I’ll try to get him some blue hydrangeas and white French tulips (his favorites), all as a little house warming gift. It will make him smile (and I LOVE to see him smile!). And, that will make me happy . . .

Life IS good! It’s not often what we think it should be, but it is often so much better.

Thank God for the surprises, the upheavals, the missteps and the unexpected gifts. It has made for one very fulfilling, colorful, rich and rewarding life. And, I feel all the time like I’m just getting started!

Loving like there’s no tomorrow truly is my antidote for depression, sorrow and self-pity.

As my new favorite comment to make to people about ‘living life to its fullest goes’, (while first drawing attention to my wristwatch and pointing at it with the index finger of my right hand): “I’m forty-seven years old! I don’t have time to waste pissing and moaning about anything. I’m lucky if I’ve got twenty to thirty good years left. So, I’m gonna spend my time seeking joy, bliss and love!”

It might be annoying to some, but it’s a great place to finally be.

‘Love’ to all! Have a great weekend. I will.

And, as always, here’s tonight’s little musical entertainment. BTW, there’s no fancy links or videos, just some old-fashioned words . . . some of my lyrics, actually. This one is a ‘gift’ I got on Christmas Eve morning of 2004. I remember lying in bed and looking into the living room at my tree (just like I did at two years of age! LOL!) when this lyric started to ‘come’ to me. I remember saying: “Damn! I have to get up and write this down.” Anyway, I love this song. I hope you all find something in it to identify with, too. In peace and love, here’s . . .

Hello, My Old Friend

Hello, My Old Friend.
I wake in the morning and see you again.
And, it always amazes me
just how long it’s been,
and how each time when I look at you,
it feels like the first time again.
Hello, My Old Friend.

Hello, my old flame.
My heart still stops at the sound of your name.
From the first moment I saw you,
I knew our lives had been changed.
Now, each day is like a gift to me.
It’s like winning the most wonderful game.
Thanks to you, my old flame.

(BRIDGE)
Seasons pass like friends waving from a train
while the clock on the wall keeps track all the same.
Each day’s another pearl on a velvet chain
while each thought of you, another coin at the rainbow’s end.

So, goodnight, my old friend.
I fall asleep each night with you at day’s end.
And, it still amazes me
just how long we’ve been.
And, how each night when I dream of you,
it feels like the first night again.
Goodnight, my old friend.
I thank God for you, my old friend.
Sweet dreams, my old friend.

The Lighter Side of 'My Quest for Absinthe'

2007-05-15T23:00:00.000-04:00

Well, thanks to charles for providing this little tidbit.

And, thanks, too, for a comment that made me laugh out loud! I asked him independently if I was that 'transparent'? Of course, he probably had no idea what I was talking about.

And, thanks to another friend for confirmation of a rumor that I'd heard that there are some places in Paris that still serve the stuff (The Hôtel Royal Fromentin and The Musée de l'Absinthe). So, I'll have to visit them in London by way of Paris next spring.

Ah! Dreams. The good stuff that life's made of.

And, here's the latest music video entry. It's more of Strindberg and Helium. Enjoy!

Absence/Absinthe

2007-05-15T01:05:00.000-04:00

Someday soon I'll have to take a trip to Paris. For so many reasons, I want to experience her.

And, the latest is a 'name dropper' called 'Absinthe'. Sounds like a daughter or a lover I've yet to know.

So, I've found some random thoughts I'd thought I'd share. There's a lyric and some instructions on how to take you there.

No worries . . . it's only a dream . . . enjoy my friends!. I'll see on the Seine.

And here's a couple of suggestions on how to prepare and what to expect from the magic potion . . .

and, finally, being the music lover I am . . . here's one artist's musings on some variation of the same . . .

Here's to navel gazing, dreaming and bonding . . .

Oh, and in case you couldn't understand the lyric, here it is . . .

Beth Orton - Absinthe

My love's a star you only saw the traces of
What went before is not no more, it's the embers of
People always catching names too late
And we're all sorry there's no time to make the change

I could hear rebellion rising
I could feel the stars aligning
I could see the wave rising
But I never did seem to find my way back home

My love's a ball I threw to you
Once I was gone, you caught it too
Love ignored erodes in time, changes shape, went and changed your mind
All I really needed was someone to take me home
Enough absinthe can crush your spirit to the bone

I could feel rebellion rising
I could hear the stars aligning
I could see the wave rising
But I never did seem to find my way back home
No, I never did wanna find my way back home

Enjoy my friends . . . I will . . . I will. =;-)

Life's Sweet Pearls

2007-05-13T10:04:00.000-04:00

You know those moments in your life when the Gods are smiling down on you? I hope you all know what I mean. Everyone deserves to live that way all of the time.

That said, you just never know what life may bring and what life may take away. One thing I've learned though is that, if we can't truly be the masters of our own destiny, we can learn to pick and choose wisely the paths we start out on and our reactions to those events that are out of our control, but inevitably -- wonder-filled and challenging -- that cross those paths.

Folks, I wish I could be more specific here in my beautiful Sunday morning ramblings, but for various reasons, I can't.

However, the one thing I'm struggling with now -- and, when you really think about it, it's a sad thing we all have to struggle with -- is when (and the 'why' behind) we have to deny or delay our joy because we've made some (probably) necessary and 'rational' decision or pact that we feel compelled to 'play out' because we said so. That's what a pact is. Right?

Anyway, ultimately, I guess I understand it. I guess, fundamentally, I just don't agree with it and, with all my heart, am doing my damnedest not to be so rigid, to go with the flow, my flow and be patient and respectful.

Well, in my "About me" section I reference a Shawn Colvin lyric from a song called "I Don't Know Why", (and, believe me, I truly don't! LOL!) but, as you'll see later in the post, it's got something to do with all of you referenced below.

So, back to the concept of Life's Sweet Pearls. What do I mean exactly? Well, that's a tough question for someone who lives with one foot in this world and one poised firmly in the next, but I'll give it a go.

Life's Sweet Pearls are those moments in your life, those snapshots shot from the camera of the heart, that remain indelibly etched in your memory and you recall when you want to feel warm on a cold winter's day. They're those God-given moments that you've got to be fully 'alive', engaged and fearless enough to just let happen and wash over you.

They're your first kiss with someone special and new. They're that surprise peck on the back of your neck from someone you thought was now just a 'friend'. They're snowy egrets flying in a spiral directly over you and another and 'knowing' what that symbolizes, 'who' that is. It's knowing you're never alone. It's that email you get in the middle of a busy work day from you five-year old niece (okay, facilitated by her Aunt!) telling you how much she loves music, too. And it's God placing people in your path for a reason and discovering that reason is about realizing yourself fully, to experience love and to let your heart always explode with joy.

Life's been great to me for months and months now. If it weren't so 'right' it would be frightening, but I don't do fear anymore, just love.

And even if I would, I couldn't begin to name all the people who are passing through my life right now that are making every encounter with them true 'gifts', Life's Sweet Pearls. Thank you all.

Go enjoy this day and everyday. Go play in the sun!!! Love hard. I'm going to continue to do so . . . always.

energy balancing

2007-05-05T16:23:00.000-04:00

Well, this morning I met with my spiritual healer for a 'tune up' and following a 'hit' that I needed to push through some minor emotional stuff that I needed to send on its way. It's really amazing work, but so hard to describe. You either 'get it' or you don't. Thankfully, I get it . . . in spades.

For a primer, you'll need to at least have a rudimentary understanding of chakras. Essentially, there are seven of these that lie along the spinal column beginning with the 'root' chakra and ending at the top of the head in the 'crown' chakra. Though described differently by different people, I've always understood them to be the portals through which emotional energy is received and processed. And, not surprisingly, due to all of the stimuli anyone of us is exposed to throughout our lives, these portals can become emotionally 'blocked'.

Essentially, too much 'bad' emotional stuff happening to a person causes them to 'block' these portals. I guess feeling 'nothing' is better than feeling pain all the time, in the worst of cases.

Anyway, I stumbled upon the work after my 40th birthday. I met a gifted and humane astrologer who also provided energy balancing work. At first, I was like "Thanks for the astrology reading, but no thanks to the energy balancing." Well, after some stressful events going on in my life, I decided to check it out. I figured: "This new-agey stuff can't hurt me. Right?" So, I was 'open' to it (this is the key part), and I've been accelerating my emotional maturity ever since.

Another side benefit is, unlike conventional psychotherapy (which I've done and, personally, recommend), rather than focus on learning coping mechanisms for dealing with situations that cause anxiety and depression, for example, with emotional healing or energy balancing there's simply no residual stuff. If you really want to work through something and get rid of the anger, sadness, anxiety, etc., it can be done through this work.

Well, back to today's session, you're supposed to consider an 'intention', something you want help with. For example, the last session I focused on wanting to reclaim my personal power. And, you don't have to -- and I often don't -- share your intention with your healer. They are there to facilitate this process and don't have to have specific knowledge of what it is that you want to work on.

Also, I have to add that at the beginning of these sessions you call on your spirit guides (e.g., people who've passed from your life who you still have vital and real relationships with and others you may not know or have known, but who want to assist you).

So, in the 'personal power reclamation' session, my spirit guides basically encouraged me to end a many years long and deep emotional connection with someone. So, I immediately took their advice and this person no longer has a hold on me. In fact, literally, the next day I met someone new who -- if I hadn't detached from the other individual -- I wouldn't have been able to connect with as strongly as I did. I learned that nature truly does abhor a vacuum, BUT you've got to create the space to fill.

What was great about today's session was the intensity of the interaction and the humor, warmth and support of my spirit guides. And, apparently -- according to the laugh-filled response of my healer at the end of the session when I shared that I decided to let my spirit guides give me what I needed -- was, again, because of my openness and willingness to hand the reins over to them. We had a ball!

Finally, I get all these great physiological responses while I'm lying on the table. Today, it was a lot of fluttering of my eyelids while a lot of stuff was going on with my third eye chakra. And, continuously, they're working on helping to relieve the stress, tightness (contraction) of the muscles and tissue from my right foot up to my lower back. For the first time ever, I felt pain in the session, but realized I needed to relax my right foot. So, I let it go and they worked through the pain. Having had to incur an injury via surgery to supposedly alleviate another injury (ruptured disc), I'm still recovering more than two years after the fact. Thankfully, I'm almost through with all of that.

So, again, it's so hard to explain, but something I wish everyone could experience. In just the seven years I've been doing this work, I've become a different person. I hardly ever worry. I'm almost always happy or content. And I love like I've never loved before.

I've still a ways to go, but again, to hear my healer describe it, "they" (my spirit guides) are amazed at my progress. The reality (to me) is "What's the alternative?" In other words, as wonderful as this life is, there's got to be more. And, I've tapped into it. It's amazing.

Okay. Back to the mundane! Laundry and ironing are waiting. Yeah! How's that for an enriching third dimensional experience! But, it's part of the process.

Enjoy all. I am!