Where Were You?

Where were you the day that David Bowie died?

These familiar chords. These honest, simple words. The genuine homage to a person who meant so much. It may seem hyperbolic, but the events of January 2016 will stick with me forever.

It started on Thursday evening, I was in the bathtub soaking away my tension and stench. I hopped on to the Spotify and Blackstar was available!!! (a few hours early, but I'll thank the miracles of technology for that.) I promptly topped off the hot water, refreshed the bubbles and lit a few candles.
The one thing that stood out, more than anything, was the strong resignation and acceptance of his mortality. It was dark, but honest. As I prefer things to be.

I then spent the weekend running around Seattle with Ms. D, first at a Bowie theme night- also a celebration of Elvis Presley's birthday (appropriate since Bowie is a HUGE Elvis fan), then a day of running around buying records and such (including a copy of Blackstar), visiting my inspirational and wonderful cousin Mary, and then a night with David J and Barton Carroll- where they offered a night of wonderful music coupled with a solid warning: "This is the day that your life will surely change"



On the night, David J hadn't heard Blackstar yet, but we chatted about it and he was planning a listening session that evening. ...In the basement in the dark I heard his album...
Met and chatted with a few cool people, made some plans to take over the world- standby for an update on that.
On Sunday morning, we got up and went to visit Jimi Hendrix, who is a Seattle native and is buried there. Joshua was a huge Hendrix fan, as well as a pretty decent left-hand guitar player.
Spread some bits of Joshua's Tree there.














After some meditation and relaxation, I flew home.

That night (Sunday) I was going to listen to my Blackstar vinyl. I opened it, I perused the booklet, I touched the supple paper and plastic and vinyl. 45 years, 27 solo albums, this is the first one that doesn't feature Bowie or a facsimile of him on the cover. I note this immediately.

But I didn't spin the disc. I was tired and went to bed exhausted, but happy.
In the middle of the night a text from D: "NNNNNooooooooooooooo!!!!" I was confused and went back to sleep. A dream: Joshua visiting me, being simultaneously happy and sad.
4am I awaken with a start. I think: "No what? What does NNNNNoooooooooo!!! mean?" I inquire. Before the reply arrives, I get on the social medias and see D's post about Joshua having a good jam partner now. Look up here, I'm in heaven...
My heart sinks. I know. I now know exactly what is happening. The signs are all there. He gave us a message and with perfect timing, he closed the door on this life. (See the Lazarus video for a quite detailed illustration of his goodbye, including the actual closing of the door)

Suddenly, the gravity of the whole thing hit me. A couple of hours later, my kids found me in the dark living room, vinyl spinning, curled up on the couch sobbing. My candles were burning, and the smell of Joshua Tree smoke was heavy in the air. 

One look at me and my daughter burst into tears and joined me in a moment of deep remembrance. 

It took weeks for the (star)dust to settle. Honestly, I'm still not the same. It sticks with me, as these things seem to do. 

David J wrote a wonderful song about his experiences that weekend. His account of the experience is well-documented and quite poignant. 

I've seen him play this live a bunch of times and it truly stops time and space. On one occasion while sharing a musical experience with some dear friends in a far-off northern town not shy of rain, David was playing this and mid-song he gasped and seemed to drop into a trance. Only later did he share what had happened- This is the view from the stage. Those eyes. That soul. That life. That energy. 

Elvis- (1960)

Every man has a black star
A black star over his shoulder
And when a man sees his black star
He knows his time, his time has come

So where was I the day that David Bowie died? Right where I always find myself:
Locked firmly between the nostalgia of a sepia-toned past and a sparkling dreamy future.

There's a good description of David J's feelings and experiences regarding the passing of Bowie, as well as a video featuring his song HERE.

Note: All quoted lyrics are used in honor of and deference to the creation rights of the writers.
Also, please purchase The Day That David Bowie Died 

Successful? Successful!

I don't know if I can consider life a raging victory quite yet.
There are a goodly number of things that I seem intent on fucking up repeatedly.
But generally I feel good about stuff. I have clear eyes, and my mind is fully clean and clear.
Sometime in the next year or two I feel like there are some changes that need to be made, which will leave things better than ever.

So for now I'm focused on the day-to-day and the routines needed to keep the chaos at bay.

Dreams Never End

Recently, I have had the most amazing experiences.
I can't possibly get into all the details, as it has all happened so quickly.
In October, I started running. And running. And running. And literally running (more about that later.)

I've seen a bunch of concerts that have each been mind-blowing- and collectively mind-blowing.

I've seen a few things, heard a few things, and felt a few things that have made me re-think my place in the world.

October 25- The Black Angels. Salt Lake City.
I've been a fan of this band for a long time, but have never managed to see them live before. I've missed out on everything. And now I wish I hadn't waited.

October 28 
I start running. As in moving quickly down the street, wearing soft shoes and wicking synthetic clothing under my own power.

October 30- Ministry. Salt Lake City. 
Fan for 35 years.
Having seen this group of miscreants before, I knew what to expect. But it's been a while, so it was a bit of a surprise. I made sure to come prepared with my headbanging muscles fully stretched and
ready to bang. And bang we did.
Spent the evening with some good friends and my baby bro, who is 36 years old.
Dodging a bunch of old-timer posers who had rummaged through the closet and found the wrinkly old leather jackets, I had a great time.

October 31- Halloween. Seattle.
There was a party. And gargoyles. I started a fire.
Halloween is indeed every day.

November 1- Ministry. Seattle.
Fan for 35 years and 2 days
The Seattle leg of this adventure was co-sponsored by my good friends D and Lil A, who each provided elements critical to the success and pleasure of the week.
The show was the same as the previous gig, other than I was a guest of the band at this show. It seemed very cool, until after the show when it got cooler. Because of a friend I made a couple years ago, I was invited to meet the band backstage and stuff. It happened. Good conversation, good times, good laughs with some of the craziest people on the planet.
I wish I could tell you everything, but it happened on the tour bus. And there's a code of silence about what happens on a tour bus. I'm being silent. Because I hope I can be invited back for more.

November 2- Morrissey. Seattle.
Fan since the first Smiths album came out, thanks to the brother of a friend, who worked in radio and recommended it. We skipped church to listen to the album and drink Dr. Pepper.
I'd seen this guy before- many years ago- and since then he has become a bit of a diva bitch.  But I still like his music.
He is a long time animal rights fellow, and has become notorious for playing some very graphic animal rights/animal abuse videos during his shows. I'd never seen the videos, but this time I looked. It was disturbing- made me forget about the music for a while. I'm fully sensitive to the message he's trying to convey. But his method is a bit brash.
Still, a good show. Side note: I missed seeing the Jesus and Mary Chain in SLC on this day. No regrets.

Then I took a day or two to breathe. Still running.

November 11- Running. SLC.
I ran a road race. It was a goofy run called the 'Donut Dash' wherein the objective was to run for a while and eat some donuts. I ran, but didn't eat any.
I finished. I made really good time, considering the last time I ran in front of anyone was 35 years ago.
Since the race, I've continued running and doing cardio training.  Stay tuned for updates.

November 13- Road trip. Multiple states.
So I piled into a car with a handful of Twizzlers and my trusty travel companion, who we shall call Sugar the birthday girl.
This leg of the adventure was sponsored by Sugar and her parents, who provided tickets, accommodations, good will, support and general grounding during a crazy week.
Running hard into the night, Sugar and I discovered the joys of a late night pizza in the basement of a Vegas casino.

November 14- Desert adventures and roads.
Driving southward, looking for turtles. Eventually we ended up about 5 miles from Mexico, exhausted.

November 15- Gary Numan, San Diego.
Fan for 30+ years, probably 35, exact date unknown.
While in the San of Diego, running around town looking for clean food and new things to look at, I found a beach full of sand dollars.
At the appointed time, we made our way to the concert venue. A bit of pushy push and a spot was secured at the front, just behind a short lady.
A few minutes later, the short lady's significant other arrived-  the tallest guy in the room. Eff. But he was nice and had a cool shirt, so cool.
Then the show.  Numan.  Epic. HOLY CRAP!!!!! The best sounds ever.
After the show, french fries and Sriracha ketchup. And sleep.

November 16- LA Adventures
TMC fan since 1984, Depeche Mode and Yaz fan since '82 or so
A good friend from a hundred years ago set me up a lunch with one of my idols- really, a gentleman named John Fryer- record producer and musician and artiste extraordinaire. His name is on more things in my record collection than any other person. Nine Inch Nails, Love and Rockets, Depeche Mode, Cocteau Twins, Yazoo, Fad Gadget, and most relevant to me: John was half of This Mortal Coil.
He is now based in LA and hangs out making (more) amazing music. And wears amazing shoes.
Over a table full of tacos, chips and salsa and such, we rapped and giggled about all things. John is quite adept at accents and dialects- this British gentleman can do 'Californian' and 'Texan' and 'Scottish guy'- the stories were spicy (like the salsa) and the laughter was abundant.
Back in his studio he made me (!) listen to an unreleased track, and we made an agreement for him to work on something I create. (HOLY CRAP!!!!!)
After a long drive through Laurel Canyon and winding through the mean streets of Hollywood, we ended up at the downtown concert venue.

November 16- Gary Numan, Los Angeles.
Arrived at the concert venue. And we grabbed some food inside the on-site restaurant.
While hanging out there eating, in walks the tallest guy in the room. After a bit of re-introduction, we became good friends and had a fiery conversation about all things Gary Numan and such.
Just before showtime, in walks Cevin Key from Skinny Puppy. I said hi. He said hi. It was all I could do to avoid soiling myself.
In walked one of the roadies, I arranged to get a setlist from him after the show.
Then we made our way (unsoiled) into the venue and took a place with good view.
Gary's show was epic as usual. His daughter Persia joined the band on this night- lending sweet vocals and a delightful stage presence to the show.

November 16- Aftershow adventures, Los Angeles.
I make my way to the stage to pick up my previously arranged setlist. Before I can get there, they are all given to others. So I stand, dejectedly, at the stage. I turn around to see Sean, the tallest guy in the room, waving at me from the upstairs VIP section, next to Skinny Puppy guy.
Sugar hits the potties while I go up to chat with our new friends. Chat chat chat. Sugar rejoins the party.
After a few minutes, Sean and Cevin and the entourage heads down the stairs and they indicate that we should follow.
As we herd toward the backstage door I can hardly breathe.
There's some kind of huge party going on inside that room.  And the door is open.
Just then, Mrs Webb (Numan) appears and shuts the door, leaving us in the hall. After a couple minutes wherein I crack jokes with the crew and try to formulate a plan, We decide that Sugar should barge in, find a familiar face and start chatting. She agrees to the plan and immediately leaves me in the hall, alone with the roadies.
After 30 seconds, out comes a smiling guy looking for 'Peetah' -  He shakes my hand and introduces himself- Steve Harris, lead guitar for the Numan band- who I of course recognized. We chat for a minute and he grabs me and hauls me into the party. It all happened so fast, but I seem to remember at least a couple people applauding as I walked in.
Time passes, we say hi to various band members as they wander in and out, meet the other guests.
I get a chance to congratulate Mr Skinny Puppy on his recent nuptials. I see Numan's kids. They leave. I talk to Steve about his guitars. He plays a Hagstrom in the show, and I tell him I have a sparkly Hagstrom. He in interested in seeing it and says he will "play it in the Salt Lake show."
As the party winds down, I start chatting with Mrs Webb, and tell her that we'll see her in a few weeks in Salt Lake. She seems quite interested in 'seeing a Mormon.' Many laughs and fun moments later, it turns out that we are in a room with 2 strangers, Gary Numan and his wife.
It's go time. "Gary- thanks so much for the great shows, We saw you last night and will see you again in Salt Lake." "Is it ok to get a picture?" "It's so nice to meet you."
A bit more small talk, a wish for safe travels. I'm struck with a brilliant idea: I pick up an orange off of the catering table "Gary, I know this is the strangest thing you've ever heard, but will you sign my orange?"
He did.

November 17, Travel day. Multiple states.
Sleep in. Late Start. Spend the whole day plotting the next adventures. Drive Drive Drive.
Great dinner in Vegas. Great laughs and good tunes.

November 18- Morrissey, Salt Lake City.
Still a fan, even after the gross-out video and his ridiculous public image.
So after 2000 miles, back at home and seeing the hometown show.
Dinner and drinks before the show. As we pull into the venue I see a work truck (from my job) and wonder aloud - "Are we doing production on this show?" The answer is yes- our audio team has provided parts of the sound system to supplement the touring rig.
I see so many people I know- coworkers, neighbors, friends, enemies, house crew, etc.
The show is great- Moz is really chatty. Funny and animated. A good show.
More rock than roll.
After show chit chat. Catching up with old friends.

I'm exhausted. And it'll be like this again in December.
And I hope every month for the rest of forever.

New path. New life.

I've been shifting gears.
I've been making changes.
I've been trying to find a new path.
I've been working on myself.
I've been trying new things, with generally positive results.
I've been removing toxicity from my world.

I'm now looking at life with fresh eyes. Born again, if you will.
I'm seeing things very differently than I did.

Future things are coming into focus.
Future things are developing nicely.
Future things are limitless in their scope.
Future things are what I live for.
Future things are everything.

With the completion of this cup of tea, the future is now.

Perfect Weather to Fly

I'm in the midst of a major change.
No, I'm not turning into a butterfly. Not that there's any issue with that.
No, I'm not gay. Not that I have any issue with that.
No, I'm not filing bankruptcy. Never. Sink or swim doesn't mean 'Call for help when the water gets up to one's neck'- also, I don't have that kind of money troubles. So no.

Really, it's a self-identity crisis. Who am I, what do I want, what path should I take, and who do I want to have around me as I go along in this journey?

I keep thinking that I have it figured out, but then I get nervous and do something harsh to 'keep myself on course' which usually does nothing more than mess up everything.

Bonus: I'm getting plenty of life experience to use as lyrics and subjects for stories and such.

No Pictures, Just Words

First post in a good long time.
I've been pretty good.  So many stories to tell.
The list of things I have to discuss is long. The discussion will prove to be salty and enjoyable.

In the meantime,, make yourselves at home and read up on the chaos that was the previous 5 year binge of posting.
(spoiler alert: I was undergoing a major life crisis for that entire time)

See you soon!!!

The Sun So Bright It Leaves No Shadow

I made a journey yesterday that has been in the back of my mind for over 30 years.

Since childhood, I have had a recurring dream about a wide open desert valley, with a variety of mountains and canyons surrounding.

I credit this returning vision with giving me my passion for the American west and the deserts found there.

As a parallel story, I have been a long time fan of the band U2 and have passionately followed them since they were little babies in the early 1980s. See this blog post for more information.

In November of 1986, a merry band of Irish lads, their manager and a 10 foot tall Dutch photographer ventured out into the California desert to search for inspiration and imagery to accompany their upcoming album, provisionally titled 'The Two Americas' or 'The Desert Songs.' After spending a day shooting photos in a barren field including a handful taken near an interestingly shaped tree, the band decided to name the album 'The Joshua Tree'

I've wanted to visit the site for many years. In my youth, it wasn't practical to find the information to find the tree. As the internet began to rumble into consciousness, information trickled out about the location and the status of the tree as a shrine of sorts. As time has moved on, it has become apparent that much of the information out there is inaccurate- deliberately so.

You see, this place needs to remain a mystery. It takes several sources of location information and a couple of articles that describe the details to deduce the actual location. Many try. Many have failed. Some have perished in the quest to find it. 

The tree and the surrounding location seem to fit as the location of my recurring dreams. And I have felt drawn to find it. And to satisfy my curiosity.

My first attempt at a visit was in the winter of 2011- my trip was pushed back by a big snowstorm and an unwilling travel companion. Again in May of 2012 I traveled to Vegas, treasure maps clenched in my fist. My partner was more interested in shopping for cheap plastic trinketry than in allowing me to pursue my special goal. At that time I realized that I was better off making this journey alone rather than being weighed down by the presence of another person. So since then I've been planning to do this alone.

Anyway.  I set out of Las Vegas yesterday to drive into the unknown. I drove and drove and drove. The world ends about 20 minutes outside Vegas and doesn't really pick back until...  ummm... well, I never found another bastion of civilization in over 200 miles. Through a closed Death Valley (government shutdown) and beyond. I'm not going to give away the location. It's out there if you really want it. Here's the closest thing to a clue I'll give away:  This is where the numbers fell off of the clockface.

Truthfully, if you're at all familiar with the pictures on the album cover, you'll be able to identify the spot by the mountainous landscapes around the tree.

I parked the car and began walking in the direction of the mountains.  I knew I was close. There were footprints. There was a delicious silence in the air. I spotted a landmark that was unmistakable: a different Joshua Tree, tall and slender with a single branch extended. The top of this guy looks a bit like a rooster perched on a fencepole. 

So I walked in this direction. 

And then I saw it. I couldn't bring myself to look directly at it yet.  So I skirted around the edges and looked at a bunch of the stuff in the surrounding area- fans have left a number of memorials around the site. 

And finally, I turned to look at the tree.

Time has not been kind to this old guy.  He didn't choose celebrity at the age of over 600, it came to him. And ultimately it killed him.  The unique shape and top-heavy proportions of the tree caused one of the main branched to fall off in about 1999 and the rest of the tree toppled over when the right side was too heavy for the structure to support. 

It was a bit like looking at a corpse. Lying in repose on the valley floor for all the world to see. 

The sight was both uplifting and depressing at the same time. 

And I couldn't bring myself to touch it. For an hour I circled and looked and tried and eventually I did.

And then I couldn't let go. I sat on it. I laid on it. I talked to it. I found all the places on the tree that were memorable in the photos of nearly 30 years ago. I found all the scars and all the bruises that have been left here. I touched the arms, the torso, the hands, the head and the heart of the tree. 

Fans have left behind a suitcase (packing a suitcase for a place that none of us has been) full of mementos, pictures, poetry, signed beer bottles, etc. There are actual band autographs on some of these items. And the guestbook(s) are full of beautiful, heartfelt writings from an international group of people who have, in most cases, only one thing in common. 

Things I can't properly articulate here: The icy cold stone that I found. The feeling of terror and exhilaration I felt when a bunch of USAF fighters flew directly overhead as I was listening to 'Bullet the Blue Sky' 

I did find that this is the desert plain I have been dreaming about since childhood. 

I sang some songs. 

I dreamed out loud. 

I discovered a few things about myself.

I discovered a few things about the world.

And after a couple of hours, it was time to say goodbye. I circled the site a couple more times and then the tree said goodbye to me.

Is this goodbye forever? I doubt it.  I'll be back.