Ballerinas and Barflies

In the end only kindness matters. If I were a man better organized, I could have typed this out years ago and saved all of us a lot of time. Isn't it great to have Germany the good guy in the story. Make love.

Stars On The Ceiling

When rock'n'roll was new it was all about love. Well, lust and love. I was young then. I was all about love, too. Well, lust and love. Rock'n'roll converted. In the early days it meant money for the mob, some DJ's and Col. Parker. Most of the record guys and radio guys loved the music. Oh, I'm sure that the Chess brothers and Morris Levy would have put out trash if they thought there was an extra buck to be made. Still, it was the rock'n'roll that changed everything and mostly for the better.

I've got my own ideas about when it all changed. Uncharacteristically, I'll keep them to myself. Some of my heroes were involved.

Me? It's still about the love. Good thing, huh?

God And Love And Biology

Sunday morning and I wake up with religion on my mind. Everything seems clear, so obvious. Maybe it's all those Facebook quotes:

"Jesus wasn't a Christian. Buddha wasn't a Buddhist. Mohamed wasn't a Muslim. They all taught love."

Maybe it's Edward O. Wilson or Paramahansa Yogananda or Alan Watts. Of course there are shades of Grandma and Teresa and Jimmy Carter and Reverend Simmons and Wolfgang in the mix.

I do know this- there is no jealous god. If a perfect god made man in his image and man destroys the earth with greed and hate, the story doesn't hold up. Believe me I am very much aware of what a childish, immature take this is. Jesus said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me." I sit at the children's table. Proudly.

There's no way that man was created with a talleywhacker and woman with a hooha so that we could get into mortal trouble playing with them.

Don't try to explain to me that we have taken the lands of folks with beliefs different from ours because God thought it was a good idea or that we march young people into war after war with God on our side. When innocent children perish in every skirmish, lessons are not being learned. If a god condones any war, anywhere, ever it involves paintball. I promise.

This reads as something of an irreverent, sarcastic rant. I'm aware of that. It's just my style or would be if I had a style. I bring this message from all those folks who stood up for what they knew in their heart and I bring it with all the love I've got in my own heart.

Zen Recording

So my pal, Steve Connelly, has a new liver and a new lease on life. We've shared more life than I can describe. He thinks we're connected cosmically. Who am I to question someone I'm connected to cosmically?

Once he let 12 bars go by in the studio with his hands by his side. We agreed that it was the perfect solo. He hadn't played a note. Now that's zen recording.

He's still a genius if a little less delicate. Maybe some of the lessons aren't about loss.

Sit! Good Boy!

So, I was spoiled with loads of unconditional love. I wish that on everyone. Lately I've been thinking about some of the sources that don't always come to mind when I'm counting my blessings and saying my prayers. The ones with four legs.

Oh, how I miss Goldie and Sparkle. Prince and Puddles, too. The other Prince and Rusty. Luv, Bo, Harry S., Wolfgang. I miss Hugo, Charcoal, Kitty Kelly, Orangie Boy and Mama Kitty and Boo and Kokamo and Cuba. I miss all the guinea pigs and hamsters and goldfish, too. Lord knows how many I'm leaving out. Sage, Suzie, Baby and Tina for example.

Sometimes I wish I believed in heaven.

All of the love you can handle is right down at the closest adoption center. We can't all bring home a Syrian refugee right now. We can all share our hearts with a rescue pet. Love is all you need.

Burn The Toast

Stand up to those voices in your head. Wear anything you want. Anything. Really. Lucinda had a difficult time selling songs in the beginning. The music business thought she needed bridges. Bridges!

Write for yourself. Paint for yourself. Make those films for you. If someone else likes your stuff, well, that's a bonus.

In the U.S. we have elected bozos who don't admit that the climate is changing. Do you really think that they might do something about it? Do they still get free haircuts?

Oh, I'm not angry. I'm amazed.

Barn Door Babies

Hey, this land was made for you...

Over a long lifetime I have never felt more the outsider. Funny, nothing seems sad about it this time around. I made a promise to myself that there would be no politics here. I don't have the stomach for the division, the quibbling, the hate.

It would be impossible, however, not to notice that Donald Trump raises hope and pride in the souls of more of my tribe than President Obama. You know, "We gave the colored guy a chance and just look at the mess we're in. We need to get back to some bullying, some firing, some bluster."

Nobody's gonna trick me into hate. It does not make me proud to say that I'm not proud of my country. When the conversation turns to pollution, infant mortality, imperialism, income inequality, health care, violence or racial prejudice I have to leave the table.

Oh, I know that good will prevail. It is just disappointing to me to have little hope that it will be done through government and/or religion. Bad guys now own most of that.

We watched the Soviet Union crumble and collapse. There is no "revolution" against nuclear weapons. There is decay and collapse. This society with homeless folks in front of the hedge fund offices can't be maintained by giving us a new I phone every other year. Not indefinitely.

What do we do in the meantime?

Love. Vote. Listen to rock'n'roll. Love some more.