What the hell

Some days you are the bug and some days your the windshield......  What the hell does that really mean?  One way your day has really gone south or in fact ended....  The other you've got shit smeared all over you.  Where is the "Winner" in that scenario?  I don't know, what I do know is I'm not sure that I've met anyone that has "Gone for it" as much as me and still always ended up even more disappointed then when the blind luck motivation decision took place.  Its like I'm some Truman Show'esque fucking loser.  Somewhere, someone is watching this laughing their asses off. 

"Watch this dude, he actually thinks he's gonna get the girl/win the lottery."  Whatever it is, whether its in choosing the girl, making a business choice or giving someone a chance believing that humanity will pay off and his endeavor will have a good ending.  No matter what logic, simplicity or sure thing that may be in play; you can almost rest assured that if I've had anything to do with it, yeah its not gonna turn out well for me or it will ultimately be something really funny for someone else to watch.

Conversely, mirror the situation with ANYONE else, same set of circumstances and almost invariably....FUCKING HOOORAY!  Winner, Winner, Chicken fucking dinner.  Meanwhile I'm sitting here be-fucking-fuddled.  No matter the relative amount of knowledge, experience or intelligence its usually the same big fat fucking zero for this kid.  Hell, I've been thrown into the friends zone more times then a mall Santa.  I've had more "Don't worry dude, at least you tried" thrown my way then sterile cow at a sperm bank. 

Sure it sounds like a shit load of self-pity, well suck a dick.  Its a self-observation and I'm sticking with that choice.  Hell, I've got enough "friends" in my little "friends zone" to substantiate my claims.  I've often been the source of great humor, whereupon I have an idea.  Yup that's all it takes and the hilarity then ensues......

Then onto the grieving side of such profound little ideas as "taking a chance".  Yeah well hell there's a bowl full of cherries to pound down the gullet!  That moment when you realize that your vulnerability has been used against you, or better yet the feeling of an exposed nerve because your bright idea that vulnerability is what will show the world your truest nature in humility.  Yeah, well that and a nickel still won't get me a cup of coffee and a side of anger.  I'm beginning to learn that my grief and emptiness are similarly proportionate to the anger at self for allowing me to believe in the lie I told myself.

What lie you ask, that age old fucker.  This time it will be different.  Yeah that one....  Seems like its the toll that must be paid in order for my own caution and fear to be cast down the shit pipe so I can allow another to see the inside and know I'm a decent person.  Decent enough that I should allow their wreckage to consume me, you ask.  That answer as illogical as it may seem....yes.  I put myself out on a precipice of vulnerability only to have it devalued as if a pocket tissue. 

I really don't need the comparison of others to gauge myself, I suppose its the generality and litmus one regularly uses to feel better or worse about themselves.  I've grown to not count so much on that litmus, as a varying degree of these are without context, detail and full-on comparison.  Rather, I look at my own experience.  Using myself as the common denominator.  That's the moment shit becomes real, that story there can't be told by anyone but me.  In the truest form of honesty and without rose colored glasses I am allowed to see my own damaged, ruffled and tattered insides for what they are as a result of this situation.

The mitigating factor perhaps in any of this, is not the part I played as much as is it the players.  Self-discovery has if anything taught me this; quite simply honesty is not just a word or luxury that one uses to give others credence to my character.  Honesty is a state of being, that like a suit of clothes for the naked emperor must be sewn so each thread bears a responsibility in holding the fiber of it all together.  In the end I still walk the walk of that naked emperor but at least I know why.  Not because I trusted that suit of clothes would be sewn for me, nor that I trusted at all.  Only that I was allowed to express vulnerability that whom and what you say you are was the bill of goods upon which the suit you were to sew was made. 

So wherein does this pain come from you ask?  Where does the emptiness come into play.  I suppose after looking at mitigating factors, my part and all of the ingredients...  I'm left looking backward.  In order to discover, I should go inward, to go inward I must go back and uncover the genesis of that which allowed me to base what my vulnerabilities are, what my value in trust is, where my sense of honesty comes from.  I guess it comes down to the bill of good sold to me as a child from those in authority to guide, mold and teach me.  If I'm to be honest, its without hesitation that I give of the truth without regard repercussion because after all the truth needs no window dressing.  If I am to trust, I must do so with seeming reckless abandon that again the truth is what matters and that truth lies in faith. 

Well hold the fucking phone Miss Betty.  Faith, where did that shit come into play.  This whole looking backward and inward in order to move forward thing just took a fucking right turn on a one way street. 

The wrong goddamned way I might add.  Faith you say?  Faith is the belief (for me) that the information or the provider of said information is valued as a trusted source and in doing so with reckless abandon I should just trust and not analyze.  I suppose I'm jaded thusly, and have gotten the impression that others were to subscribe to this level playing field of sorts as if having the same belief the kool-aid is good for all that drink it.  So as with everything else and experience being my best teacher, I'm left with this.... 

As a result of what I know to be trust, as a result of what I know to be honesty; its very difficult to put my faith in other human beings as their sense of the two may be far different then mine.  No matter the depth, breadth or all encompassing amount of conversation on the two subjects.  Just when its safe to think there is clarity, fast forward to this moment in time.  Move past all the window dressing on that little shop of horrors you call a human being.  Get to this place where in so empty I can only hope the doctor walks into the room and tells me I have cancer, or I hope this pain in my chest is the massive aortic coronary that puts me out of my goddamned misery.

I trust because its the thing to do.  The thing you say, well the alternative is to be a cynical prick.  Always looking for someone, something to get over on me at every turn.  Never once bowing to trust that just this time it will be the time.  I suppose its like playing the human lottery.  I've never really hit the big game, but through out this life of mine I've seen that I've accumulated every winning number.  Well then, the question that begs to be asked and answered I suppose is "why then, haven't you cashed in".  That question is easy to answer.

I may choose to not be that cynical prick, instead I think it closer to the god I love; yes the very same one that in moments like these I ask to please let my life go, please let this space I hold be used for someone more deserving then I, yes that god.  It should be with that reverence that my faith some day, some where as a result of my blindness of trust, my honesty and vulnerability that maybe, just maybe all those numbers will come on the same ticket.  Yes, I've gotten all the winning numbers.  I never said I'd gotten them all at the same time, they have come at various moments of my life.  Just different tickets I suppose.

So as wounded and empty as I feel, as much as I'd hope that I could write at someone and even as much as I'd hope to expire in this very moment.  The despair, like a thin fog lifts with each moment as the day goes on.  I could go lower into the valley to sit in the fog or be just okay with where I sit.  Looking up to see the blueness of the sky while below still the rolling mist of fog that eventually no matter its level; will ultimately come to pass as with all the other fog.  Lessons learned I ask, well that seems to be a mixed bag.  I'm not sure I have that answer in total.  Easy to say you'd think, well not so.  I find in situations like this, wanting the answer, to be concrete or black and white in clarity.  I suppose that's where emptiness and pain exist, in my unwillingness of the moment to not accept that although trust and honesty are within us all, we all don't posses them with the same fortitude as each other.  Their value just the same, inherently means the world to each of us as individuals. 

My pain and despair exists in the fog of knowing I behaved as I should, I was vulnerable, I trusted, had faith and with all the honesty I could muster; it in comparison wasn't to the same level as someone else's no matter the effort or sincerity. 

And within that, I should feel better no?  Not really, feelings not being fact and my thoughts only a manifestation of what I perceive to be real, I still feel as if I got shafted, the short end of the stick.  Hell, I still feel like the fires of hell should reach up and torch the ass of those around me to motivate and inspire.  Yet, this is not my lot.  I'm left here with only me.  There are no bunk beds in coffins, no buddy discount at the funeral parlor.  So it is only me and my conscience.  If in fact I go with the kool-aid and I do, those winning numbers might come to pass but until then its the solace and satisfaction in knowing I'm okay with me.  My experience is learning what my integrity is, means and how it; not the suit of honesty are sewn and by whom.  Its knowing that I've sewn this suit, it fits well on me; on you maybe a different story but I look damn good in it and I shall wear it well through the rest of my days.

All-Access Pass

Yeah....  That moment, when reality sets in.  Its the final curtain, the show is over and its time to pack up the gear, say farewell.  The memories are countless.  Tomorrow is the final tour date for a long time friend, we'll all gather and say goodbye.  Obviously, with a personality like yours we'd all thought that you'd live forever.  Although we grew up on opposite sides of town and came from different backgrounds, I'd like to think there was a second part of that growing up.  One that came in November 1984.  All ten of us piled in a truck and a van, with a mountain of gear we took the show on the road.  We made zero dollars, but we were paying the dues.  Sure we all argued, fussed and fought.  Ten people in one hotel room will do that....  Dave W, calling out a creaking door "C#minor", Tommy playing a goddamned flam-a-diddle on your head, Mr. Big touting "we gotta get more", DJ always prepping and primping early only to end up late.  Then there was the crew...  Scott always shaking his head saying "I don't know", me with some female creature all jacked on whiskey or weed and who could forget Austin, TX at Cardi's after Rolf set the acoustic stand down, turned to walk off stage only for the guitar to swing over the front of the deck from the cord as if it were a pendulum and that precious look on Mr. Bigs face.  We all know some things as certainties....  Ricky was gonna steal a salt shaker and our lead singer really probably enjoyed being on the crew and still never knew shit about gear...but he tried.

One thing was certain, through any internal foibles we always brought the rock.  From the moment the intro was fired up until the final curtain, we ripped off faces and left people standing there wondering what in the hell they'd just witnessed.  I'll tell ya, you witness a great goddamned rock-n-roll band with a production and crew, the likes of which your town hasn't ever seen in a quite a long time and we just kicked you in your butt.  There have been many miles, cities, states and countries traveled since 1984.  You were around for all three incarnations of our hometown band, it was the last from which you moved the whole show to another level.  Its a long way from Thanksgiving 1984, hurricanes and my infamous flaming blue Jesus....  I remember after we'd opened up that first night for the headliner and you laughed.  Because they'd (headliner) been hoodwinked, some nobody bunch of pretty boys from Baltimore, just came into Texas, left everyone standing there with their jaws on the floor and the headliner knowing full well they couldn't tune our guitars, aim our lights or carry our PA let alone follow what we'd just done to the Lonestar state in 35 minutes.... And we'd done it on someone elses production.....

The miles, the stories and memories will live as your legacy and are written in the stone of our collective memories.  You meant different things to each of the 10 of us.  We were all part of that second childhood, growing up through the 80's as band and crew.  Not taking a second to know or understand that we'd all be life long friends.  Scattered as we may be across this great country, you'd find us, you'd look after some of us and even scold some of us from time to time.  That second childhood started as band and crew, but for some of us it became our second family.  All brothers....  I suppose in thinking that you'd live forever, none of us saw this coming.  You are the second to go home after Ricky last year.  Sure the band would take the stage each night, and sure there was Mr. Big.  But all of us, we really knew who the Mr. Big was and is.....  Its you pal.  So then, this reality thing.  Scott and I seem more like family now then anyone would've ever imagined.  We went to Florida and got the awful news of your passing.  Sure it bounced around in our heads and it still didn't seem real.  As each day has gotten closer to tomorrow, your good friend Tony D and Tommy bringing you back to us and now tomorrow upon the doorstep....  Its time...  the show is over, the crowd is in awe and the curtain will close one last time.  Its time to say goodbye to my childhood friend.  I personally know I didn't make it easy on you, but I'd like to think I made that up to you.  For that I'm grateful and you will live on in my memory.  Me, I like to think of you when I hear the following song...  So I'll close with it.  Tomorrow, the myriad of faces, memories, smiles and tears will flow as smooth as a bass line on a fret-less....  The common denominator will be you in our lives....  So long pal, until we meet again.  Please make sure St. Peter knows I get the All-Access pass when I get there....

Rest easy MOT......

Thinking outside to help the inside.... letting go again...

This time of year is always a bit hard for me, most likely I'm not alone as I've learned over the years.  Its a time of deeper reflection, hashing through good and bad memories.  Taking stock in who has come and who has gone.  This year actually started last year, during the Kevin Hart tour.  I got to tour with one of my longest running friends.  One from the past that despite a horrendous addiction issue he didn't turn his back on me.  We got to tour as friends & co-workers, now I have to cut his hair until I die.

I have been divorced for over a year; regardless of the fact finding mission I went on to see where our relationship failed, regardless of my contrition the other side still refuses to accept any responsibility or culpability in the demise of this relationship.  It, for me is the epitome of powerlessness.  The bigger part of this acceptance is that at one point in time, I felt validation from my parents only because I was married.  I have seen the transformation in my parents, maybe is the transformation in me.  My acceptance of me in the world around me. 

I can't exactly put a finger on when or why this time of year (Holiday Season) had gotten so hard for me.  I do know that it has a lot to do with the murder of my wife in 1999.  I was sober from 1994 up until the end of 1999.  Her murder was exceptionally hard to fathom.  I thought I was doing okay with it, when at the end of 2000 I lost my shit.  I was not spiritually fit to say no to the first drug that came my way.  So I went on a tear.  By the following year, somehow I'd managed to get myself back to living clean and sober.

I suppose it was around the holidays in 2001, I realized how badly I missed Donna.  After all, the last two weeks of her life her and I spent countless hours on the phone mapping out and planning to reunite to be parents, lovers and raise our beautiful little girl.  Then I got the call on a Sunday morning.  The best friend I'd ever had, my greatest lover, the source of my smile and the person who knew me the best was taken from me and this earth as violently as one I could imagine.  This is a great source of pain for me, that I'm sure I've only dealt with in small doses. 

I have angered massive amounts of people since the day I was born.  I'll most likely continue to do so in some form or fashion.  I'm sure apologies were and have been in order; and some I've even fulfilled.  It really doesn't stick with me if I've angered someone.  However, to the contrary;  If perhaps I've let someone down, oh sweet Molly Brown....  That is a fate tied to me for what seems an everlasting gobstopping time.....  I'm not sure if perhaps I'm alone in this....  But although most of my past doesn't haunt me, its extremely difficult to not regret choices, decisions or actions that I've made in my past.  Sure the initial, pain, suffering or embarrassment have long gone.  But the memories of the aforementioned and the emotions attached are as fresh as if inside a hermetically sealed file cabinet.

I digress;  Naturally I was amped to rebuild a relationship with my wife that I'd torn apart with choices of drugs over my family.  Naturally I was looking forward at the gift of redemption and the realization that this woman was my world, my everything, my teacher without judgment.  I was horrified beyond the scope of my thoughts, vocabulary and understanding when my mother-in-law searched me out to call and tell me.  My difficulty in processing this loss, isn't so much as one would think.  For me, I suppose my greatest fear is leaving this earth alone.  Without those that love(d) me, without comfort.  My wife was gunned down sitting in her car by a 19 year old child.  For hours she sat slumped over the steering wheel of her car bleeding out.  My greatest fear, my helplessness..... 

I felt as if I'd let her down; I wasn't there to comfort her, I failed her as a protector and it started way before that night.  So yeah, regrets.... I've had a few.  I clearly understand I'm not responsible for the choices and circumstances which she died.  But unfortunately its a bit more difficult to explain that to my head and my heart.

I often don't know where exactly I'm going with something when I write.  It just flows and I don't judge as it spews onto the screen in front of me.  But I suppose on this day, I've challenged my laziness.  I've challenged myself to look a bit deeper in order to getting back to a time when this time of year brought me great joy as if a child again each year.  I guess the deep love and affection that I still have for Donna has been ever present.  Such that my ex-wife seemed almost intimidated by it.  Upon seeing that side of her, I had to shut down that part of me and not let her see it.  I guess out of some silly respect for her.

So I suppose in oozing some of this out of me and onto the screen in front of me there is yet another morsel of healing.  It doesn't mean that, this time of year still isn't a time of deep reflection.  Some of the sting is gone.  There are new joys, new pains, new people to piss off as well as some of the regular cast of characters.  My lessons are mine to learn without the judgement of others in their time or space.  Just  mine.  My biggest fear is to die alone.  Seeing that in others is very scary.  I'm very thankful this day that I've got a core of good friends, from Ocean City to Orange County and back.  I've got my parents in my life.  I no longer feel I can only be valid if I'm married to a woman they like.  I'm valid because they love me as their son.... No matter what. 

We don't know what the next minute may hold, so I'll do the best I can to keep that in perspective as each minute, hour and day passes during this time of year that once brought me so much joy.  I'm struggling with powerlessness and not being able to control outcomes.  I suppose that never goes away.  Shakespeare said "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."  I can only influence through my actions, thoughts, habits and character what I'd hope others could see as a better way to live. 

This dribble for you, is my catharsis.  Its the fiber of what seems to be my emotional sanity.  I'm free to reflect as are those around me.  Lest judgement comes at the hand of those with less understanding and self-worth.  I wish we could all live forever, but I suppose we live a lot.  So much everyday.....so the phrase "YOLO"...yeah its pure shit.  More like "YODO"...(you only die once).  Until then its up to me, as it is each one of us to make these days and nights of living; no matter the number, a little more bearable and filled with fondness of those around us.  I've been let down, so I know how it feels.  Therefore I can tell where it comes from... expectation.

In order for a better understanding of my fellows I should, expect nothing more then I'm willing to give.  I suppose that is the delicate and elusive balance that we all seem to carry forward from day to day.  It would also seem that no matter the level of forgiveness one attains those memories are ours to hold for as long as we live.  What we do with them in order to grow as individuals is not for judgement by anyone other then ourselves.

That's it I'm done..... telling my own truth...

No Work

I was about four paragraphs into some poignant writing.  Then the stupid Facebook took a dump....hopefully I can recall such literary prowess as was lost in a flash with one of those gut wrenching feelings of sending a naughty text message only to realizing it was to an ex or a friend of yours.....a dude.

So I've had a few folks this year claim I've done no work on myself since having surpassed the almost 12 year mark of being clean and sober.  One of these fools hijacked my anniversary just to open up his foolish yapper to make himself look superior, I suppose to make me feel bad about myself. 

That being said let me opine if I may; a bit about what work I have not done and how just the "same" guy I am just having not used drugs in almost 12 years.  I iterate this to prove a point to myself and reinforce to myself that part of the greater fool is one whom does all this "work" upon themselves in hopes of inspiring others that their work is one of modesty, humility and service.  However the flaw in this concept and that of a greater fool is that;  anyone can do the work and profess its necessity and outcome.  But if its served to then make one a pompous, self serving, narcissistic asshole then your reason for this seems to have not served its purpose of investing in oneself only to become an asshole.

So with the aforementioned hijacking of my anniversary, a celebration of my own journey through time not using, tenure in a 12 step program for myself and those that have accompanied me through both.  In this hijacking I sat there as if I were Taylor Swift watching Kanye West steal the moment.  Listening to this greater fool espouse that I've accomplished nothing, I really haven't scratched the surface nor done anything to better myself of those around me.  It lead, inspired and motivated this literary dribble to achieved the things I'd hope it to, if nothing more to amuse, inspire and continue on my journey as I am.  I did no work, yet I sat there all Taylor Swifty and shit and amused, I did not stand up and stop this self serving, psychotic fool.  I didn't not remove the coin which numerically signified my accomplishment from his hands and no I did not put hands on him and assert physical punishment about his head and shoulders.  I did not react to his Kanye West performance as he'd thought maybe I would.  But yet, I've not done any work and achieved nothing.  Kudos to you for the work I'd not done, you must've been right.

Last March an end to a relationship that endured almost 80 percent of my tenure clean and sober.  Not how I'd have wanted the relationship to pan out.  Yet, I suppose its ultimate demise was clearly all of my fault for having done no work; nor attempts to meet in the middle.  What I haven't learned or done any work on in almost 12 years may be this;  How about that just because someone perceives, thinks or emotes something, it isn't a fact, or it isn't truth.  How then would I come to this conclusion, the conclusion that the truth never needs defended, never needs excuses made for it.  I suppose because the truth doesn't take sides, it stands on its own.

I suppose I'd not learned that no matter my part, great or small I am accountable, responsible and liable for my imperfections, poor judgements or perceptions.  In not learning this I suppose it would be safe to say that I also did not have the responsibility to step up admit my wrong and be part of if not the solution to correcting those.  How could I have not learned that just because someone else is more then willing to keep score of these inexactitudes and point them out as the cause of all of the worlds ills if not a personal relationship; just to have it seem as if they weren't present in the mess that was created or their actions or lack thereof had nothing to do with the state of affairs.  Funny me, how could I have let this pass me by.

After being fed up with a family member and not including, talking or even acknowledging them for over two years, how could I possibly focus on forgiveness let alone courage?  How could I throw it all out on the table, put aside what they did or didn't do to enact such an exile from my life.  Surely in this last decade and change I'd learned something about forgiveness, I mean both of my parents talk to me, they let me in their home and trust my opinion in some rather important (to me only I'm sure) matters.  I'd only shattered their sense of well being, security and safety by breaking into their home and ransacking said villa in hopes of finding jewelry, money or what I could pawn to fulfill my drug habit. 

Yeah, that stuff!  I didn't learn that was suppose to be a source of shame, guilt and remorse that would rule the structure of decisions that I'm suppose to make on a daily basis from thereon out.  I digress; I didn't use courage, faith or forgiveness to allow myself to let a family member have me or them to I, back in each others lives.  Surely I must have motive, agenda and manipulation at hand to have done such a foolish thing.  Really I must have insanely reacted to something, just went on impulse to put aside my selfishness and ego in hopes of my parents, friends or even loved one to post an elaborate, gratitude filled, diatribe about how wonderful, forgiving, kind and gracious man I've become on Facebook for all of the 1.11 BILLION users.

No I didn't learn that it takes courage, love, faith and honesty to say to my loved one, my baby sister and at one time the only brothers keeper I had to inspire me, love me and hope for me and to pray me into becoming a whole man again; the things that she needed to hear and not wanted to hear from a big brother.  No of course I'd not done any work at all on being selfish and letting someone else make their own way.  I couldn't have possibly taken any of the money I of all people had made in order to facilitate the comfortable needs of getting my baby sisters place in such a manner which she was used to; in order to do nothing more then what her big brother asked her to do, inspired her to do and continues to help her do no matter what! 

In 2002 I took a risky investment in myself.  I took this risk with odds that I was told in rehab (1989, the only rehab I'd attended) were 99%-1 that I'd not be successful at staying clean.  In spite of numbers, lack of hope, fear, self-loathing, homelessness and not one person other then my baby sister believing in me; I took the risk.  Anything I'd ever learned, known or accomplished was through a 12 step program and it would stand to reason that I was to learn no more then that in my lifetime.  I suppose the "Greater Fool" would do this in order to facilitate his own selfish desires, needs and agenda in hopes of passing it off as if it or he were now the golden boy insomuch as for others to follow into his pantheonic world.  Or to use as if his pied piper ways were direction to the promise land.  Selling a gold plated turd as if it were the kings crown, only to be no more good then the piece of shit contained therein.

No, in 2002 I took a risky investment in myself because I knew nothing more good could come of the ways which I was living.  No matter how good, golden or great I'd become it would have to start with surrender.  It would have to be my sincerity to not go backwards, it would be my willingness to if nothing more learn one new thing to keep the gear shift in such a place as moving forward. 

I have become un-popular, divorced, isolated and ostracized in some instances for my inability to do any work or have learned anything.  No I have no sympathy for any addict or alcoholic for which whom have knowledge of the 12 step, only to have died directly from their addiction.  Sympathy you might find is in the dictionary between "Shit" and "Syphilis".  I didn't learn anything about human kindness and compassion, I certainly must've been a "homo" as my dying friends mom accused me of being when in hospice I held his hand and walked with him into his dying days as if two naive pre-schoolers who saw nothing of holding hands then an expression of security, friendship and love.  I didn't have any examples in my life to teach or to learn from that in spite of the fact of dying, it is okay to share love, laughter and memories.  I've learned nothing from watching helplessly that my dear friend was not going to be hear for me to call, hold his hand and laugh with to share my accomplishments with, should I ever have done some work.

I still have no sympathy for any addict that dies using with knowledge that there is a better way.  But somehow I've learned in 12 years that just because you tell me I'm a piece of shit, that I'm not worthy of love, that I don't know how to listen to you, that I'm unable to accept others for whom they are, that I don't know who I am nor know how to find myself that I've been able to anonymously be there for those that you have missed, given up on, written off and needed someone just to listen, give a ride too, pick up a phone or answer a text.  I don't need a thank you, your appreciation or theirs either.  I am a credit to Lyle Swan, Jack Ostrem, Andy Domas, Lynda Rohr & Jim, Pappa Jim, Jackson Creek DOA and all of those in Joliet, Illinois.  I'm a credit to Danny Brannon, David Greene, Billy Price, Joey Cohen, Michael G, Jose and Kristin Ortiz, Paul Ciccone, Scott Tydings and All who attended that Friday night meeting at Church of the Redeemer in August of 2001.  If I missed a name, well if you have learned anything unlike me, its not a thank you that you seek, its that did I stay clean, did I love someone that felt unloved, did I help someone that couldn't help themselves, did you do it because you somehow learned that no matter what you feel its not a fact.  That no matter how popular you may think you are, its hard to be famous in an anonymous program.

What I think I've become matters not to you, its certainly of no value in who you are, what you can get or what you think you may receive.  What I have become is of importance and value to me.  The lessons I've learned are simple, I've accepted that I am an addict, I've known that I need help from others then the plans I've laid on my own power, I need the power of love from something greater, I know what I've done and not only do I know maybe you know one or two or ten of those things because in order to lesson my load of guilt, shame, self-loathing I had to make sense of it myself.  I had to slow, stop or remove an need to lie, steal, cheat my way through life.  I had to look at what I do each day, try and correct it as soon as I can and make peace with myself and hopefully lead someone from the depths of hell and into the gateway of freedom.

But alas, I've done no work nor have done nothing.  Is it true? Is it me or is it he/her that against all odds or risky investment that think I haven't done what I need to sustain, gain or garner the love of family or friends.....  I ask you these things...  What was it I didn't work on or learn?  Lastly, who then accuses me of these things.....  Me, I'd say that would be the "Greater Fool" the one with the minions of mice following his musings in order to finance his/her own risky investment that they'll receive admiration, salutations and prestige because of the tune they whistle......

Good luck with that assholes, I'll be here on yer way back around.  The truth doesn't need me and it doesn't need you.  Unfortunately the actions you have chosen; leave truth no choice then to show your true colors in the song you have sung to others to thereby become better then I.........

Presidential Campaign (Email reply to a friend)

I have a problem with politicians in general. Especially those that lick their lips for the blood of power whether in their sites or in their grasp. Ron Paul is not the guy for me. He is pro life, which I strongly disagree. Repealing the patriot act, thats a bit strong. There are parts of the patriot act that are not or were not meant for infringement purposes. All you have to do to see that, is read the original draft. It wasn't until it faced almost certain defeat, then certain people at the white house revised, rewrote and recreated the bill. I am strong against the infringement of civil liberties, however in this day and age and post 9/11 I think some of the structure of that document are valid.

As for ridding us of income tax, I think I agree to a small degree with you. A flat tax seemed a good idea until I looked further at that and some of the folks that supported it. For income taxes to be abolished, well first we have to treat the problem rather than a symptom of the American worker. By that I mean, when government spending is so far out of control that the hours we work each day are dedicated to the allowances of our government....then I have a problem.

I no longer believe as I have for some time, that we have a government that is OF BY, AND FOR THE PEOPLE. Our constitution has become nothing more than an old historical document that is as worthless as the light that shines upon it. I cannot stomach another news report about our government sending $1 to another country when we have homeless people in our own country, when a drug addict trying to get help is turned away because he/she doesn't have money for treatment. When treatment centers don't teach relapse prevention, by not teaching it, it insures repeat customers. As well, when I sit here typing this with a horrifyingly bad case of bronchitis and knowing in the back of my mind that it might become if not already pneumonia, that infuriates me.

So if we cut off the dead and bloody symptom, which is outrageous financial irresponsibility by our government. We could keep or lower our level of income tax. Then restructure it, so that the lower and middle class aren't the ones paying the way for the rest of us. Let the top 10% of earners, Ball Players, Rock Stars, Actors, CEO's with golden parachutes....let those fuckers pay more. Leave us at the bottom alone.

National health care is not an illusion. What is a delusion is the point that the government wants to run it. If you take the profit out of it and make a non-governmental regulated organization oversee it, we can measure some success. As it stands, currently OUR GOVERNMENT IS WAY OUT OF LINE. I don't know anyone that represents me as an American in America in 2007.

As for NAFTA...... That was a huge mistake when it was passed and I said so then and I'll keep saying it. Nuff said....you prolly want rip your own eyes out after reading all of this. I think if you had to look at it from a stand point of today was voting day.... I'd have to Vote for Barack Obama. Anybody running for political office is bullshit, lies and corruption.....

Who the hell knows.... I Guess all we can hope for is that January 20th, 2009 gets out of here fast, our troops come home and I don't die of pneumonia before any or all of these.

Now you see inside (The Edge of Tears)

Have you ever seen a movie that has been dramatic, filled with passion and zeal? Sure you have! Have you ever cataloged that movie indelibly into your memory banks as if part of it were the fabric of your life? Sure you have! The above being said, within the framework of your mind scribed movie masterpiece is there a point that invokes.... lets say a welling up, a moment which you are truly affected emotionally? Sure there is, I'm sure we all have that moment.

From Old Yeller, Charlotte's Web and Bryan's Song. We that are old enough to remember or know these movies and the exact moment at which it will occur. Its what keeps us glued to the movie and keeps that affect tucked away as if an heirloom of our soul within our memory banks.

Well another of those moments has prompted my blog tonight. With the luxury of digital cable and its plethora of hundreds of channels from which to choose, I happened upon "Encore" at about 10:20. After an un-planned nap of a few hours I got up scurried about and started scrolling through that frickin guide of channels.

My regular channels were pretty much crap, History, DIY, CNN all three networks, ESPN all of them. So obviously I was forced to go second tier and it came down to the Doors movie on 143 or Patch Adams on 158. Years ago I had a week from hell and ended up in the theater by myself watching this movie. I have seen it a few times since and the same thing happens usually.....screw everything and watch the movie.

I digress. Some of the movies of this variety are movies with a reliable and concerted, profound emotional impact upon me. Not unlike many of you I'm sure. Well I started watching the movie tonight and it invoked the same response...plus some. Its the plus some that really has prompted my writing.

I don't want to really go into a full length description and or write the screenplay on here. The basic premise is a fella that really views life different than conventional wisdom, based in the medical field. Each person isn't just a medical case, as in the leukodystrophy patient in bed three as opposed to the cute little Allison Smith. His view, dedication and passion were the evocation within the movie that stormed my emotional centerpiece.

He found that within a ward of smaller children suffering from diseases and sickness, there was a institutional somberness and quiet that seemed almost disturbing. So he decided to bring some laughter and cheer by injecting humor to the ward, by using medical instruments as props to improvise and ad lib. There are several circumstances where his calling was blatantly shown to him, before he realized what it is that sought him all of his years.

Again I digress, have you ever wondered why at the moment of impact shall we say (welling up) what the cause or affect of such a flow of emotion occurs? I suppose I don't have your answer, but that was the question I posed to myself this night. It has to do with seeing the same movie several times and that sense of "Ah Ha... I hadn't noticed that before". It was within that "Ah Ha" moment that it dawned me, that I was at a minor emotional upheaval.

My truth is that I have received the most joy out of life, helping others. By bringing them relief, happiness, joy and the restoration of their self worth, dignity and security. But if you mix in what it is that I love to do for work and how I make my living at it. The two never or rarely mix, meld or blend. Other than working a show that is based upon raising funds for a charity as in a concert of benefit of some sort.

A few years ago I did have the opportunity to raise over $3000.00 for a mens homeless shelter. I secured the benefactor rather easily. At one point I was a client of the shelter. I remember then a gentleman named Chris handed me a set of sheets to a bed I was assigned. I realized after many thanks and displays of gratitude that he had this glazed over look upon his face. What he provided me with that very day, was my dignity, grace, security and compassion. Most of all and important, he gave me within the sheets..... a seed of hope.

Several years had passed and I was doing swell, I was given the opportunity to go to school and a new lease on life. I thought for my gratitude and pass indignant deeds I owed. I owed someone, society or mankind something in return for my good fortune. Within two months I had created a benefit organization, secured the same homeless shelter I once stayed in as the benefactor, I had secured donations for the silent auction and all pretty much on my own time, resources and ideas.

I made it through what seemed like a depressing night. It was a rainy Monday night in February and the turn out seemed lower than my expectations would have liked. All that being said, at the end of the auction, the door proceeds and the club owner Mickey Cucchiela donating a portion of the register receipts I was able to hand over a check for the aforementioned amount. I was stressed most of the night, being director, coordinator and all things to all people. A good stress I suppose. However as I signed the check it started to hit me.

I had become completely overwhelmed at the moment I handed over the check. I hadn't realized that through all of the coordination with the gentleman from the benefactor's organization I had been dealing with the same man that years before had handed me something. He handed my my hope. As I live and breath until the moment of my outstretched arm handing him the check I hadn't realized who he was, and at that very moment, looking into his eyes and seeing his smile and the humbled look of gratitude and thankfulness all I could do was cry.

Which by the way, was not my intent. My intent was to fulfill my ego with some elaborate speech of gratitude to those that helped make the night possible and ad nauseam. As all things right with nature and as perfect as nature seems....that speech was not meant to be. Instead what people saw, including the benefactor, was a young man filled with tears of grace, joy and and an overwhelming satisfaction that I had completed a goal I was sure I'd lost long sight of.

Now I've found my way back to the purpose and crux of the post. Inside, I have struggled with many things. I have struggled with addiction to anything and everything toxic. I have struggled with love, life and the pursuit of happiness. Most of all I've struggled with an unending sense of where do I belong in this life. I've had a sense of doing something big with my life. Having meaning and purpose. Being able to affect people on a large scale I suppose. I have never really entertained the grandiosity side of these notions, rather than struggling with the who, what, when where and how I am going to achieve such a feet.

I have gotten a decent education, I've taken computer networking classes, broadcasting, sales, marketing, economics, history and all sorts of higher learning. However, aside from working in the music business behind the scenes in production, I've never really found my calling. I suppose that I'll do what the next day has in store. Or maybe as days go by my own answers will come. All I do know is this, my own passion exists because of my desire to fulfill someone else's needs and desire to move on, up and out.

I hope any of this made sense to someone. I think I've piddled out what was inside.... and now you see. Another movie that has brought me to the edge of tears....actually violently over the waterfall......

To Do

Just needed to make a list of some things that have been on my mind. Since thoughts and cells move through my head at speeds even NASA would find alarming.... I think best to put them down here so I don't forget.

George Bush: Tyranny, idiocy arrogance and manipulation.

Iraqi War: Bring them home, the argument that if you cut the funding (now over 600 Billion dollars), it will make democrats look as if the don't support the troops. etc

Sports: Inflated salaries, high ticket prices, role models, shit behavior

Just three there will be more, but for now at 3:10 a.m. A FRICKINGAIN....

God I just gotta go to sleep now.....FUCK!!!