Hmmm...

Well, it has again been a long time since I have been here to blog about.  I have a lot of things to write on, but I am not interested in posting and venting my spleen about things.  Too many people do it, and I am trying to find other ways to get rid of it.


The Office is playing the same R&B collection of like, 12 songs that have been overplayed throughout time, and so I've had to put on the iTunes again.  


Ironic, that the last song I recorded on my ProTools, "Forever Young" came up.  I wrote this inspired by a friend of mine in the midwest, and I'm glad she liked it.  One of many parts of many ideas for stuff I need to work on.


"Happy Loving Couples" by Joe Jackson next...


What am I doing?  I'm off soon to host "All Things Considered" on WITF, and then it's rush over to Clear Channel to produce the Harrisburg Senators home opener.  The latter was a nightmare this week, as they played in New Britain, CT and the phone line sucked balls.  We were cut off the air at least a couple dozen times.


My college radio station ran games off a phone line with almost NO issues...in the 80's.


I recently read on I think CNBC that "Broadcaster" is the 10th worst job in America.  For the money, and the fact that our business is dying.  Radio and TV jobs are drying up thanks to media consolidation, deregulation and the idea that "public interest" is actually in the eye of the license holder.  Which means, MAKE MONEY.  And make it by any means necessary.


Not always, but a fair number of cases.


"Knife Edge," ELP, live version.


But I'm still in it, and still looking for work in it because it's the only thing that guarantees money.  And that's for the paying of bills, and shit like that.  
I still love it; and I am a survivor I suppose.


The writing...hmmm...ideas keep coming for stuff I've already written, little things here and there.  That's always a good thing.  


As for "Time the Healer..."  I am well past the 400 page mark; I've decided to turn it into a trilogy so far.  I still don't know if this is even readable, but it is one long, undulating story that just does not end.  Yet there is so much to talk about, to tell, to get across.  I think it reads quickly enough, so you're in a situation where you don't know how much you've read until you look.


The Dharma Fools got back together to write last week; an old song, and two new instrumentals have come about.  I am still searching for players...and my mind drifted back to the Ahltyrra EP that we never finished.


Well, it's finished.  One track needs remixing...the four tracks really aren't bad.  I am tempted to remix the last one and turn it over to my old instructor and friend Shane Moore to do his magic on.  It would at least be a record that we accomplished something fucking good.


My relationship continues...Alice and I have agreed we get along damned well, and while we are a sight different than most "relationships," it works.  She has much to consider, as do I.


"Hang Fire," Stones...nice.


By the way...SHAMELESS PLUG!


www.torygates.com


Alice has begun the needed work on my website.  We'll get to the next part of content very soon.  Alice does wonders, let me tell you.  Need a site?  Think about it...


http://www.graphicalice.com/


Shameless plug for Alice.


Okay, I am watching the world go mad around me, ever yet again.  I have said time and again I need to get the fuck out of Dumbekistan; my eye narrows at the "people" who continues to believe that, as my old friend Jay Brooks used to say, "still think that Kennedy is president."


Actually, I always say Eisenhower.  So many people in the midstate believe that it's still 1952; the Communists are under every bed, the CIA is out to get them, and that black man in the White House is a Kenyan Secret Agent in league with the Commies.


Say shit loud enough and often enough, and people believe the lies.


Certain parts of the world are very susceptible to stupidity, some more than others.  What's even more hilarious to me are the people who try to justify hatred and ignorance by quantifying, qualifying and explaining away with theories and a turning of words and phrases in order to confuse others.


"Love's Like Rain," Paul Burlison and friends next...


What is bothersome is the justification of hatred, fear and paranoia as if it's good and healthy...even more weird.


Oh well, I have better things to do than worry about that shit.  I'm not worried; what happens, happens, and then you adjust.  


"Let's Get Funky," Hound Dog Taylor and the Houserockers...


Whatever the case, I think I'm gonna be sticking around a while longer.  Unless the opportunity of a lifetime is offered me, which I seriously doubt, or the first SDS book sells (which it WILL), I don't see myself going anywhere special.


It's not so bad, just have to remember it's you in this moment and no one else.

"Tryin' to Leave the Black Dog at Home..."

It is a Monday, and while Garfield might hate them, I am ambivalent about them.  My weekend of late starts on a Monday, and unfortunately sometimes other things come along with it.

The "Black Dog" in this case is NOT the Led Zeppelin tune, rather what Winston Churchill defined his depression.

I have battled clinical depression all of my life, and I was aware as early as perhaps five or six years old that something was not right about me, emotionally.  I also had no idea how to describe it, and no one was interested in what a stupid had to say about such weighty things, anyway.

Here is a great, slightly off-base song from the legendery John Hiatt.  "Fireball Roberts" is on his most excellent The Open Road CD.

It does illustrate in a way how it feels...but it is not always so colorful.  It is generally dark, heavy, and sickening.

You honestly feel like shit.  All the time.  Everything weighs on you; this is not usually something you can just buck yourself up over, though we've tried different things, those of us who deal with it.

I did what is called in football a "two-a-day," that is I went to LA Fitness and worked my ass out twice in a day.  It really does help; I had done my M-W-F workout in the morning, which is a short, but strenuous series of lifts, crunches, floor exercises and other moves.  On my off days, I generally swim.

Well, today was just fucking weird, and this is what I deal with.  My medication just was not cutting it today; self-medication beyond this is NEVER an option, and I'm gonna tell you that right now.  I'm talking booze, drugs, food, even sex...doesn't work.

Now beyond that; since my depression was diagnosed in 2000, and I've been put on a certain Rx, I've been pretty damned good.  The drug acts like a compressor; in that it pushes down the high and pushes up the lows.  You live in between, and I've found for the most I can live a happier life.

Doesn't always work...I don't know why, but today certain things just got me.  Summer sucks for me, as does the Yule/Xmas holiday season; I fucking hate these periods, despite enjoying the warm weather, and conversely the time of Yule and all of that.

I knew after a while, I just had to get my ass back to the gym and hit the pool.  My swimming workout right now is about 40 minutes, with no stopping.  I've gotten better at it, and I do feel a lot stronger these past two weeks, and that's all it's been.

And...16 days without a smoke.  That's another self-medicator that does not work.  We know what it does to your body, but the tobacco and the chemicals fuck up your head.  I know what it does, and I feel it. 

I used to like that feeling; suppose that was my way of self-doing it, because I don't drink. 

Actually, I do think I know why some of the depression has come back in recent weeks; and again, it's a matter of riding these things out. 

I'll have to do what I have to do, and if it means people don't see me or hear from me, sorry, but that is what I've got going on.  You don't want to know.

I have one more day off as it were before things get interesting.  I'm back on the air Thursday, doing "All Things Considered" for WITF, before I take off for New England to see my nephew Aubrey walk the aisle, see how the family's doing, and then head for Boston. 

That will be fun...I hope.

So, just remember when shit gets on you, you are not alone.  If you feel it getting extreme, find someone you can trust to help.  At the end of the day, no matter how fucking awful you feel, you are still here.