The Open Road...Rocky Horror Reconsidered, Living on Zoloft and other Strange Thoughts...

Well, that's a good beginning, isn't it?  Back in the Office on the 4th of July, and "Farewell to Arms" is playing by ELP.  A ballad for whatever this state of mind is I'm in.


I have a lot to tell you of, and also this is the cleansing of my twisted insides for what must be the millionth time.


I am actually in a good state of mind right now, and it feels good.  Of course, 30 minutes on the bike and another 10 or so in the sauna on a day that's pushing 95 in the shade will do that to you.


So, let's see...I was on the road early Saturday, once more to return to Boston and help say farewell to the Loew's Theatre in Harvard Square, Cambridge.  The theatre has been home to the Full Body Cast of the Rocky Horror Picture Show since 1984.  It's final turn is this Saturday.  


I am actually working on the 7th, so I did my turn on the 30th.  My first time in that theatre to perform was on April 5, 1990, as a "Rocky."  Yes!  I did not become Riff Raff until a couple months after that.


iTunes update:  "Hurtin' Me, Hurtin' You," by Steve Earle.  The music fuels my fingers, what can I say?


From my pretentious hotel (I have to have a little fun, dammit), where I can cause heads of the allegedly wealthy to turn when this maniac dressed like a biker with a guitar strides through the lobby; anyway it is a comfy place, and I do like a little of that when I can get it.  View of the Charles is lovely, and it's close to stuff.


Like I wrote last summer, Cambridge (where I was), Boston, the whole city...it's alive again.  I really miss the activity, and yet with that comes the concerns I have about being able to survive in a city with such high tension. With the activity comes the tension and the stress.


Six weeks plus off Zoloft is like detox; I am fighting off a drug addiction.  I didn't even realize it.  I am still having issues with it.  Tension rises, the E-string gets fucking wound, and then look the fuck out.


"Moby Dick," Led Zep.  Hmmm...


In a city of millions, you can still feel alone.  I have written lyrics for a new song, which will be called "Strangely Unfamiliar."  That's how I felt.  I knew the whole city like the back of my hand; been here for many years, and yet it is not the same.  The change is good, but how to comprehend it, and adjust to it.


I need change; lots of it.  I keep saying I need to leave PA; I have almost nothing to hold me here, but for the off-chance that I can prove to certain people that I have value.  It would provide the base for which I need to do every other thing.


Every other important thing in my life.


I popped into Magic Dragon Comics in Arlington, and I caught up with my old friend and Rocky Horror compadre Eric Carter.  Eric is the former lead singer of Rogue, and a brilliant artist.  He tipped me to some of the independent comic and manga work being done in the area, including that of George O'Connor, former Rocky and Rogue member.


George is author of a zombie type work that is getting some attention out there.  Fully independent, and no strings attached.  


I made my pilgrimage to Newbury Comics, and the Jewelry/Tattoo shop to get a new ankh.  My last one broke; very interesting omen there.


"Rock this Place," Fabulous Thunderbirds...now we're talking.


Getting ready for the show, I could feel a terrible depression come down on me.  Excited to be back, then crashing hard.  


I drifted over to the Harvard Theatre early, and sat across from the place at the church steps.  This is/was the gathering point for the Rocky people for years, before we could be let inside the building.  I thought back to years of being here, being with these people, my people and how it's all going away. Bittersweet memories.


I felt ill.  I didn't want to do this; I didn't want to perform, and I actually thought about no-showing.  But I had to get one last turn on the stage for fun, and to remind myself why I did it all those years.  It was fun; and it was okay to seek that fun out.


There's a terrible guilt trip we lead on people; to enjoy life is somehow a bad thing.  We have to work, make money, find a spouse, fuck the spouse and spit out a bunch of kids, etc., etc., etc.  Modern living.


Most of us never did that.  Well, a lot of the Rocky people are now married, have kids, real jobs, but they didn't lose their sense of fun.  


I had attributed this line to my friend Lisa Risley, but it was not written by her.  In a play Riz directed me in, her character says, "The theatre is a home for lost children."


Think about that.


We are.


I was.


A Lorenna McKennitt song came on...I skip.  I hate to say it, but I find her music annoying.


Carlos del Junco, "Don't Worry Your Pretty Little Head," is next...blues guy, but this is a slow, jazz type of thing with harmonica.  Different.


It's funny what makes the fog lift.  Two ex-cast members suddenly popped up in front of me.  They were not there to perform, but they dropped in.  Then two more.


These photos by the way are on my Facebook; there are two folders, so check those out.


So we all got to talking, like we did, and I felt awake again.  Thanks.


The gang slowly came in...Wombat, the techie for life it seems, and others...the dark, the scantily clad (all ages, haha), and the rest started to show up.  There is a kinship that will never die with these folks.


Another reason to go back.


The show was an all-star mashup of performers, tagging off as the night went on.  I had the middle part, which I fortunately remembered.  I look old...damned old in those pictures that were taken.  But it was fun.


Preshow was an extended set of performances, and a free for all Time Warp.  How do you do that?  All Riffs (4), all Magentas (3), all Columbias (2 or 3), and I got one last leap off the riser.


Fun.


That was something else.  The good news is, the FBC has a new home, in Boston Common, which begins on August 4th.


"Killer Queen..." -- do I have to tell YOU?!?


Sunday...I hung out with an old friend, Gretchen and I later had my collaborators' meeting with Riz and Jen (the latter the hand behind the Sweet Dreams Series).  


Jen is as crazy busy as ever...she's become a workout junkie, and looks remarkably fit.  We found our way (thanks to Jen's GPS) into the Medford Suburbs...yes, "Meh-fuh" does have them!


Riz's new home with her new boyfriend and his daughter is a wonderfully cluttered little home with lots of intriguing curiosities.  Al is a laconic New Englander, but a good guy.  I liked him immediately.  The youngest daughter, last one at home is Lex.  


Hardcore Otaku.  I love her.  Riz and Lex have bonded over Invader Zim, and numerous other such things.  I have not seen the woman so happy, and she deserves it.


"When a Guitar Plays the Blues," Roy Buchanan--THE SONG THAT STARTED THE SWEET DREAMS SERIES.  ALL OF IT.


So anyway...a certain press is looking at the SDS, manga version.  The possibilities that they will pick up the book could happen.  It's now a wait.


Meanwhile, the cover concept must be set, so we can make a second submission to a publication for previews and promotional purposes.  We're back in the business, again.


Another long night...Monday...I took a walk along the Charles, and for once saw that side of the river along Memorial Drive in a way I never had.  I needed the exercise, and damned if I would get any in the hotel pool.


Hotel.  Pool.  Tourists.  Kids.  Enough said.


I got a good walk into Kendall Square, which has grown up a bit over the years.  Found an indie coffee shop to hang in, and had a scone which weighted about three pounds!  The upwardly mobile, the MIT crowd and the rest all getting on here, as in every place through this city.  Indeed.


I kept walking eventually, back toward the river, and passed a coffee shop I could later go back to.  Voltage. 


This is a minimal, coffee and art place.  Art works hang on its bare walls, and while the coffee is pricey, it's pretty good.  


I did some shopping...yeah, guess what?  I do.


I do think some changes to my life will come; every now and then this snake (my totem animal) needs to shed skin, and I will do that again as time goes by.


Later, I had dinner with Riz, and we talked for three ours.  Another part of the world in Medford has changed:  Wellington Circle is gone.


I worked the Strawberries there from 1989-90.  It's all gone, replaced by a mini-city called Station Landing.  Weird.  It's kind of like Hunt Valley, for those who have never been there and live where I do now.


Riz is dealing with numerous issues, as always, but I feel a corner will turn with her.  About time.  I am hopeful to turn my corners as well.


"Victims of Comfort," Keb' Mo' -- now isn't this an indictment of not just the rich, but quite a few of us?  It is on his first album, great song.


Our modern world has taken us into a corner, all of our own making.  I wonder about what we've done, and what I have to do.


As it stands, I have no job.  I am on-call, for both WITF, Radio PA, and yes, Clear Channel.  There's no work; no unemployment, but I have lived quietly and alright.


I am not starving, and though I fear it, homelessness and being dead-ass broke is not going to happen.  I will not permit it.


"Come into My Life," Robert Plant.


Of course, you must think, "Well, he just took a trip to Boston to hang out with those weirdos from his past!  Blah, blah, blah."


Trying not to worry about it all.  But there is so much that we do think are like the necessities, when they're not really.


So anyway...zoomed outta Dodge early on Tuesday, avoided the holiday rush and bullshit and made it home before noon.  I have before me a lot of work to do, and a lot of changes to make.


These will take a long time.  I do not know if tomorrow I'll have a job, if I'll suddenly have to move, or if something even bigger occurs.


I have had people criticize me for having "no life."


What does that mean?


Look around, and at you:  what do I see?  I see a life that I can't shit on, because I am a part of it.


What do we do in this world?  We make money.


Money provides a lot of things; "breathing room," as my old roommate Kevin once said.  Yes, that's so.


Too much will kill you.  Why make tons of money in a job you don't like?  For what?


To buy a new car, when the one you own runs just fine?  The Silver Saturn is 237,000 miles old, and while I know it's going to cost me to get it inspected, it's still cheaper than buying a new one.  I don't want a new one.


My poor old house that I rent is 90+ years old; the landlady did say that it would be better to raze it eventually, and put another on it.  I was surprised by that, because Alice and I, among others have considered it.


I do love that piece of land, and I would like it, but...with ownership comes responsibility.


Taxes.  Codes Enforcement Officers.  Township Regulations.


Not worth it.


I would rather rent, and know that being a good renter means not just to pay the rent, but to not destroy the house.  I admit, I've not been great to the old spot, but at least I'm not knocking holes in the walls and stealing from the landlord's garage, like a previous tenant is alleged to have done.


David Jacobs-Strain, "Kokomo Blues."  Local guy, really good musician.


I don't go to bars, I don't drink anymore.  I no longer smoke...holy shit, $10 a pack in New York State!  If that doesn't make you quit, I dunno what will!


I do have a membership in a health club, and that has been a good influence.  That plus the people around me.  After one year, I can see benefits.  I am healthier than I have been in almost 20 years.  It's a good thing.


I suppose I am one of the consumer generation, and I do wish I was not so much.  Then again, at this point, I've needed to live quieter, and more simply.


It's not an easy life, but we have to live it.  One has to shed the need to do things, 24/7.  We have to go here, go there, do this, do that, keep up with the Joneses, etc.


Sometimes, it's hard to even just survive, and I know all about it.  You have nothing at times, and you feel the frustration, the anger, the hatred of all who have what you do not.


We're seeing that anger now in politics.  I see people vote against their better interests and judgement, because it makes them feel good for one moment to stick it to someone else.


But what if that hurts you?  Two years later, you'll be screaming bloody murder about THAT.  And you still think it's someone else's fault!


I don't blame anyone for the place I'm in.  It's not about blame.  I don't blame me, or anyone.  I made my calls, and I don't regret it.


If there will be a big step, I will consider it, and take it if I feel it's right.


This is very hard to deal with, when you are considering the drug matter. Zoloft.


Katherine Sharp is the author of a book I'm reading, "Coming of Age on Zoloft."  It's her story, plus that of others.


Worth reading.  It is not an indictment on the drug industry, but it points a finger at it.


Since the 50's we've been drugging ourselves, or letting others do it.  We are a drugged-out generation of feel-good people, and yet we still feel like shit a lot of the time.


Zoloft is like many of these drugs; therapeutically they are satisfactory in the short term.  They help.  But they are NOT meant for life.


I have been on the Big Z 12 years.  I was led to believe it was okay; I was led to believe I'd need it all my life.


WRONG.


I don't fucking need it.  I am amazed that the most creative and productive period of my life occurred during this time.


I realize how hard it is in withdrawal.  My stress, anxiety, and fury return without warning.


I trashed the Vibe Room a couple weeks ago in a fit of rage.  Childish, stupid, immature...yes, but it made me feel better.


I nearly turned into a Road Rage incident in Boston Monday night when I could not find my way from Cambridge to Medford.  W/O the drugs, I get scattered, and I get lost sometimes.  Not good.


I have to learn to step back on my own.  It is very hard.  But I have to do it.


"Fire Woman," the Cult.  Nice.


I'm doing my best, folks.  Hard as hell sometimes, but sometimes it works.


Today, I feel fine.  Tomorrow, who the fuck knows?


My life is one long strange trip, but so isn't yours.


I'm gonna figure out the next step.  If I have to leave PA, which I admittedly want to apart from one chance at a brass ring, so I do.  


Where I go, will be where I'm meant to go.  Back home?  A new land?


Either way, it's gonna be fun, because you have to have fun.  I'm having it right now, telling you all this crazy shit that's going on.


Enjoy your fourth.  The park on a diagonal line from my back lawn is gonna host fireworks tonight.  I just have to go outside.  That will be fun.


Peace.

Just in time for Beltane...a new blog!

I never really know what colors are going to work on this thing, and my immediate thought was, "Look what they dun to my blog."


I am not sure I am liking this new configuration.  Just as well...been slowly planning to get things moved over to my new website, once Alice has time to think about it.


Back at the Office after a busy midday..."Woke Up With Wood" by ZZ Top is finishing on the iTunes, and..."Say What!" by SRV follows.  Nice.


Some mid 80's blues/rock, very nice.  


I have been sick for the first time in nearly three years.  Caught a bad-ass virus of some sort, and it thrashed every part of me for about 10 days.  On and off feeling like shit, and whatever it was must have been fucking bad.  Alice tells me that she teched for "Memphis," some stage show and everyone was down with something.  


Lots of lovely herbs and thingies...they're working, better than anything I can think of.  Antibiotics are useless to me; I've only had them like three times in my life and I am allergic to one, but I can't remember which one.  


Anyway, today is the first day in a while that I feel more awake.  My workouts have suffered, and I was down to every couple days because I just could not get myself up for them.  


Got an hour in today, though; bike, sauna, pool and the spa...hit for the cycle I guess.  


Okay, where are we going here?  Yes, it's April 30, and Beltane is tomorrow.  Snuck up on me there...I must do something for it, and I think Jethro Tull's "Beltane" might go along well with that.  It is a great song, bonus track on "Songs from the Wood," I suggest you check it.


Faerie Fest...well, the Dharma Fools were left off the bill once again, but I am not surprised.  They got a very good lineup this year; Wendy Rule, Telesma (despite one of their bandmates suffering a heart attack), and a bunch of other names.  Good for them.


Sorry to say as much fun as the FF is, I have no interest in going this year.  It is not because I am not performing there, either; it's gone by the way for me to some extent.  I also have to work, and that is unavoidable.


Work is the same...I'm job hunting, but would rather stay here.


"Lupita," by Dave Grusin.  A short, but interesting piece.  I snatched this from the prod studios at Clear Channel HBG.


Weekend Warrior work is the same, WITF/KYW on the weekends, plus some Radio PA Network stuff here and there, and 89.5 gives me the call now and again.  CCH the same.  Jobbing about.


"Don't Pass Me By," by the late Sean Costello.  Interesting...sad loss, this man.  Far too young, and his health issues caught up.


Speaking of which...Alice and I had a long talk recently about my meds.  I recently did a double of the Zoloft on the suggestion of my primary care doc.  In the short-term, it worked out, because it calmed me down from a manic period that began to get a little weird.  Losing the plot is not fun.


But there were drawbacks.  Too calm...at times.  My workout energy dropped, and I figured within a month I'd be more attuned to it.  I was, but something's missing.


I then proceeded to literally forget to take it for a couple days over the weekend.  Going off can be dangerous for some people, but I've been able to for a few at a stretch, and I'm okay.  I could feel the mania again a little bit, but not seriously.


I'm trying to go back to the regular dosage right now, and see if that works. Perhaps I can get to where I don't need it anymore.


Now, I'm sure you're wondering how Alice is figuring in on this.  Alice is bipolar, and I've seen her in some of her problem areas.  I have an in-law, an old friend in fact with it, and it's crippling to her at times.  I am not bipolar, but I share some of the symptoms and actions of it.


Alice wondered if getting off it might be better now, because I am older, and my body has changed a lot since then.  She wonders if my guitar playing might become better as a result.


Recently played a little on my own, and could feel some smoothness coming back that I'd not had.  Might be temp., but who knows?  I'll see.


As for the DF's, Dan and I are searching for band members.  No one's been fired, but no one's showing up anymore.  We need the sound and the punch of a band again, and I wish to play more electric.  It's time to push it that way.


Now, here's another thing.  I am considering a move to Harrisburg.  It would mean saying goodbye to my lovely patch of rented land in York, but that house is gonna fall down before long.  I don't have the money to buy it, but I have to talk to the landlady anyways about all that.


"Changes," by Santana...ah, the "Zebop" album.  Good stuff.


Alice and I feel this relationship of ours, strange and dysfunctional as it sometimes is, could work.  I believe it will.  She needs to clear time to get her house worked on...actually, it's her father's, and that is an issue in itself.  But she needs to get rid of the "Hoarders's" candidate material outta there, and do some fixing.


I'm not Bob Vila, I freely admit it, but her ideas are good ones and I think they are the right ones.


We can cut expenses, I'd be spitting distance to WITF and to CC; and I like Harrisburg.  We spent some time at the Reader's Cafe recently, and Alice showed me around the city a little.  Funny, how I've worked there for years and know absolutely nothing about it!


Access to musicians, oh yes...even better.


Oh, now how about the book thing?


Okay...I finished "Time the Healer" on Sunday.  The rough draft is 605 pages long.  Yes.  I have no idea how it got so fucking long.  


It must be cut down, a lot.  I have a lot to do with that.


Now...I am also putting the boot in, regarding a possible effort to get an extract of "Sweet Dreams:  Searching for Roy Buchanan" into print.  Jen, Riz, Alice and whomever else are going to keep hearing from me until we get something down so we can do this!


"My Skin," Natalie Merchant...um...such a beautiful voice and a great lyricist...but I do not need to hear this right now.  Sorry, Natalie...


"Southern Streamline" by John Fogerty.  Better.  I still think he is a dick for the way he's treated his old CCR mates, but that's his problem.


So yeah, a chance at a monthly website, called Front Row Lit or something of the sort...if we can get in there, then we'd be considered for the print version.  


Exciting.  We'll see.


Meanwhile I need to get ready to consider "Time..." and an edit.  I'll get to it eventually.


So yeah, it's been a busy past month or two.  Not exactly making any money, but whatever.  I cannot complain, and the future is feeling like a bright one.  How can it not be?


Too much time is wasted worrying about shit we can't change, WTF is going on with too many other things...I don't have time to listen to people's bitching anymore about things they can't change.  Change yourself for fuck's sake.


That's it...I'm the fuck out.

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.

When Things Fall Apart...

Well, here it is the afternoon of October 31, and the state around me is one of disarray and jumbled thoughts.  We are still repairing from the freak fall/winter storm that blasted us over the weekend, and it's led me to think in a number of different threads, which I hope somehow to put together.


I have been without electricity in my house for about 36 hours of so; strange, I had power on Saturday, but Sunday morning it was gone.  My landlords (aged they are) have gone without since I think Saturday, and our block of homes around here are out as well.


That is a very strange thing...I don't recall the power ever being out for this long in all the years I've lived here.  I can't remember power being out anywhere for such a long time.  Then again, so much of the world doesn't even have electricity still.  We certainly do take that for granted, don't we?


I worry about my landlord and his wife.  They are nearly 90, and while I marvel at their ability to get around, they do have their limits.  They have been handling this as well as they can, but I can tell they're worried.  At least they have family and friends to look in on them, but I do wonder about a number of things.


We did indeed get slammed...some 12,000 were out of power in York alone, and while that's down to less than half, Reading still has more than 12,000 customers out.  From this  area of south central PA to the northeast, it was a swath that storm cut.


For this area, lot of downed trees, limbs, etc., especially on the property I rent.  We're gonna need to get someone here to drag it out.  Most of them are too damn big, and need cutting, and so forth.


As it is Samhain, I have dragged a large amount of brush, wood and stuff to my little stone fire pit.  I will be doing a little burning this evening, and hopefully meditation on this and other things.  I am now officially solitary, and it's time to do this.  I'd hoped to be with friends tonight, but circumstances I don't think will permit this.


It is strange, coming home to a dark house, using candles and a flashlight to get around, and then burrowing under every comforter and blanket I have to stay warm and actually sleep.  It does get pretty cold here, and will tonight.  The temperature in my house is hovering at 50 degrees; not terrible, but still a problem eventually for the pipes and other fixtures.


My cats are handling it well; Sofia is on my lap right now, and they all know it's warm where the human sleeps.  Izzy just won't come in there, but she knows where to find space of her own.


I just have to bring water in; again, I'm gonna lose a bunch of food in my fridge, if this doesn't come back soon, but that's nothing really.


OK...where's this going?  I've been thinking about this problem for a long time, and I wonder if any of this makes since.  Our infrastructure has been crumbling in this country, and this outage is one example of how that has happened.


Then...take how YOU feel, if you are affected by all this.


Here's a similie:  ever have one of those days where things just fall apart?  The car doesn't start for some reason, your coffeemaker just suddenly dies on you, your laptop won't fire up or just freezes and keeps doing it.  These are all little things that we can get around and handle.  


Sometimes, you get behind that one person in line at a store who takes forever...or you get the clerk who is clueless and doesn't fully know their job yet...you feel the tension rise, don't you?  You feel ready to snap; you want to, but you don't because you know better.


But a lot of people don't like that, and don't have that in them.  Some people do snap; breaking points are different, and I wonder if we're not headed right for it.


Look at the Occupy movements around the US.  People have just had enough with Wall Street, our government, the way things are.  Our infrastructure is crumbling from the inside; our roads and bridges are one thing, there's also the infrastructure that is our economy.


Look at the jobs...or lack thereof.  In my line of work, the broadcasting world has taken another gash to the body, and the blood is again flowing.  Clear Channel, one of the VERY BIG BROADCASTING CORPORATIONS OF AMERICA (do you know where the joke lies therein?) has again slashed its staff, and there will be an effort to make even more with even less.


My friend and colleague Scott Fybush details the latest bloodletting at www.nerw.com -- please check it out.


I work part-time for CC Harrisburg, so I know some of the people let go.  We've all been through it, but it seems every line of work is being eroded by a need to keep the bottom line fat and happy, the shareholders fat and happy and the owners fatter and happier.


Jobs being exported overseas where people work in virtual slave labor conditions to make stuff, and I'm sorry, but not as good as we could have done in a lot of cases.  Okay, we sure lost our way with cars.


We are now a nation of service jobs; we're servicing everyone, including ourselves, and even that is not working that well, is it?  


A power outage turns to outrage for some people; it's nothing compared to the big picture, don't you think?


I wonder where we're headed; I really think we need to reach a consensus on what our values and priorities are, and none of this involves politics or religion or anything else.  


If we're going to have an economy that provides good services and things we all need and want...we have to pay for it.  More than we have for years, look at gas; we got away with it for so long, and we still do.  $3.45 for regular?  Three times that elsewhere in the world, folks, get over it.


That said, we also have to consider how we are going to repair ourselves, so that we can take the stress out of our lives, and still get things done.


We are a nation that knows what we want, and we want it yesterday.  We've all been like that; well, I know as well as anyone that power restoration will not happen yesterday or right now.  Bet anything, when the power comes back on, people will appreciate it even more.


Do we want too much?  Sometimes, yes.  A little inconvenience becomes one big headache, but only if we let it.


Guess what I'm saying is, let's remember what the deal is, and try to make the right choices for us.  Doesn't hurt anyone other.


Be mindful of what you have, and when you think what you need is important, ask yourself if it really is.  Or can it wait?


Now this takes me back a ways...I remember when I was a kid one time, when we did have a significant power outage.  Probably only a few hours, but it was at night, and we were in the dark.  


Mom had a couple of decorative kerosene lamps, which actually worked.  We lit those up, and I read by one of them for a while.  That's all they had, or firelight back in the day.  How many of you remember that?


Alice told me a story, which is going to be very hard for you to believe, as it was for me:  she used to live in Perry County, which is northwest of here...she and whomever she was with at the time lived there about nine years.  Now...wait for it...


...THEY DID NOT HAVE ELECTRICITY.  EVER.


Now how you live like that...I had to wonder.  I still do.


Anyway, I have candles, and I have other ways to work around all this for a bit.  Camping, if you will, just inside.


I can also escape to places where I can plug in my laptop (hooray for the MacBook Pro battery!), shower, etc.  But you know, a little inconvenience makes you remember how good we have it...and that we can make it even better.


Okay...I have Samhain to do tonight, and I turn 46 on the morrow.  Hopefully we'll "get power" by then, but who knows?


Blessed Samhain to you.