from a simpler time - a classic

peace

Obama is the man; no if, and, or butts

let my gonads go!

Jesse Jackson says he wants to cut off his nuts

let my gonads go!

.

Right on, Jesse Jackson

say it loudly so

it’s picked up in the microphone…

Let my gonads go!

.

Obama’s johnson placed into Jesse’s hand

let my gonads go!

Pressed so hard you know Barack could not stand

let my gonads go!

.

Right on, Jesse Jackson

say it loudly so

it’s picked up in the microphone…

let my gonads go!

.

Oh, let us from all this rhetoric flee

let my gonads go!

Can’t we all put trust in democracy?

let my gonads go!

.

Right on, Jesse Jackson

say it loudly so

it’s picked up in the microphone…

let my gonads go!

.

Obama need not bitterly weep and mourn

let my gonads go!

just because he’s had all his privates shorn

let my gonads go!

.

Right on, Jesse Jackson

say it loudly so

it’s picked up in the microphone…

let my gonads go!

.

“cutting off his nuts” may sound kinda odd

let my gonads go!

from a self professing man of God

let my gonads go!

.

Right on, Jesse Jackson

say it loudly so

it’s picked up in the microphone…

let my gonads go!

.

Oh! Let my gonads… go!

.

political commentary, for instructional purposes only…

peace.

Okay… I’m not wrong often but when I am I admit it.  I’d like you all to accept my apology.  (Dr. Leo Marvin)

What about Bob, Dad?  (Siggy)  from the film, What About Bob?

.

Recently I opined the current trend in rock ‘n’ roll music, perhaps an admission that I am getting too old?  (you decide)   But I have a new hero, well… not really new, but one who has breathed life into my rock ‘n’ roll soul.

where the light is, John Mayer’s new double live CD restores my faith in so many ways.  I love the fact that he did 3 distinctly different sets and produces over 2 hours of great music.  Did I say great?   I meant portions of it (the John Mayer Trio part especially) kicks ass!  did I say kicks ass?  I meant it KICKS ASS!

I don’t know about you but I think this CD was long over due and it restores my belief in the guitar gods, they definitely have smiled on Mr. Mayer.

If you enjoy some hot guitar licks, you owe it to yourself to check out this CD.

Oh, by the way… this recommendation comes freely and without compensation.  I know you’d do the same for me.

Thanks, John… for the great, great music. 

P.S.  play it LOUD

peace.

In the wide world of new millennium entertainment who’da thunk we’d revert back to the wild west of the 1880’s? 

Last week I watched a video capturing C&W star Tim McGraw hauling a fan up on the stage during one of his concerts in Washington and ordering him out after feigning a punch to his face.  To say the least, I thought this type of behavior bizarre.

According to reports, Tim witnessed an unruly and slightly drunk man acting belligerent and unkindly to a lady in the front of the stage.   Now I admire any man standing up for the virtue of a woman, coming to her aid in her time of distress or defending her honor… but during a concert and in the middle of a song?  Wouldn’t it have been more prudent to just calmly walk to the side of the stage and signal security that there is a problem “down front” and let them handle it?

I wonder if this will be a new trend now for concert goers.  Not only will our entertainment be in music but also with fisticuffs and bravado reminiscent of barroom brawls the likes of John Wayne and Randolf Scott.  In those days the piano player merrily accompanied the smashing of glasses, bottles, and mirrors while ruffians were being tossed out into the street without restraint.  With Tim’s concert, too, the band played on while Tim drew back his mighty fist threatening to duke it out with the star crazed fan who must have thought he was being pulled up on stage to sing a long with his hero.

I wonder if other stars will find that appealing?  Get down to the level of their rowdy fans and kick some ass while performing?  But rather than just one drunk, maybe several at once?  Maybe a free for all!  Let’s do some possible scenarios, shall we?

I always thought that Charlie Daniels song, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” would be good for scrappers, especially the part ”Johnny” plays.  I could see all kinds of fists flying to the strains of “dee diddle dee diddle dee diddle dee diddle..” couldn’t you?  or how about Tobey Keith singin’ “I Love This Bar” or better yet, “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue?” Even though there presumably wouldn’t be any terrorists in the audience we could still get caught up in the spirit of kicking  some camel jockey’s ass by busting a local yokel’s head.  Perhaps even the pairing of Alan Jackson and Jimmy Buffett on “It’s Five O’clock Somewhere” would signal a rampage.

Tim has been in the news before.  One time an overly aggressive female fan reached out and cupped his private parts as he walked by.  This caused his wife, Faith Hill, to chastise her in full public view on stage and repeatedly on talk shows later on.  That one could have been a monster if the two of them could’ve gone at it then and there; fists flyin’, hair pullin’… screamin’ and name callin’… whew!  Nothing like a good cat fight to bolster one’s reputation as a “Stand By Your Man” kinda girl, or at least… “Keep Your Hands Off My Baby.”

I don’t know if we are heading towards a Woodstock ‘99 in country music, but lets get real… do we really need to watch our entertainers settle things with their fists?  I hope not.

I like Tim and Faith, as a matter of fact, one of their songs, ” It’s Your Love” resonates very well with my fair one and me… it has become an anthem of sorts, we are always quoting it to each other.

So please, Tim, keep putting out the good music ( I really do want to “live like I was dying,” but not like I was getting beat up! )  Leave the violence to the WWF.

Peace.

So have you  heard about the two year old and his Mother that was put off an airplane because the kid was unruly?  Turns out the child suffers from autism and now the media is having a field day exposing the “big, bad airline” as being insensitive towards the mentally handicapped.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think the intention of the pilot was to discriminate against anyone and to suggest such an idea to me is bunk.

The media is a monster.  Somewhere, somehow a long time ago the people behind our news and entertainment realized the public has this insatiable appetite for news, and not necessarily good news.  In fact, most good news is boring.

So they put this spin on things in order to: 1) grab your attention  2) bombard you with their slant on the “story” and 3) assure you that for the most “update and concise” news always look to them first.  It is a jungle out there, folks.  ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, CNN, BBC, CBC, QRS… TUV  all of these stations plus radio, newspapers, magazines, books and online sources… ALL of them vying for your attention!  So everything has to be sensationalized day after day, 365 days a year. 

I have flown dozens of times over many years, each time it is a little nerve racking.  Though I have gotten to the point of not following along with my safety instructions when the flight attendants go through their review, I am still very much aware of where the exits are and my proximity to them.  Each take off I am silently encouraging the plane that it has “one more trip left in it” even though it is nearly 50 years old and every time we land I want to breath a sigh of relief and shake the pilots hand.

It is stressful to say the least, being couped up in a cylinder that is hurling through the atmosphere at 660 miles per hour with a diversified group of individuals that I will probably never see again though I share the same trepidation that they do.  Always wondering in the back of our minds… “Will we make it?” and imagining the headlines if we don’t.  Did I tell that certain someone that I loved him/her?  Are my dental records up to date if they have to identify me?  Will I scream all the way down?  (I’d hate to face my impending death that way, it’d be so girly)

Anyway, I have experienced crying babies on airplanes numerous times.  Sometimes my ears popping because of the shift in altitude makes me feel like crying, too.  I have sat next to the little closets they call restrooms and had people come out smelling like anything but a rose causing the flavor of my little bag of salted peanuts to change dramatically.  It seems every time I fly there is a problem with the air conditioning or worse, some navigational instrument needs replaced and I thank the powers that be they caught it on the ground rather than in mid-flight. 

I’ve always imagined I was going to get to sit next to some knock out, buxom redhead that had never flown before and needed my strong arm as a life support.  We would pass through the clouds into the sunset and tell each other our life’s story just in case we didn’t get out of this ordeal alive.  We might even steal a kiss or two and promise to keep in touch no matter what the outcome of our (potentially) doomed flight.  I even met a stewardess once that I asked out.  Sadly, I was turned down because she was leaving immediately on a returning flight.  Anyway, what I’ve usually enjoyed is being crammed into the inside seat with an overweight person that smells of too much cologne and bleeds over into my space.  Usually that person reads the latest choice from the Oprah book club, complains about the “snack” offered by the attendant, falls asleep on my shoulder and snores. 

I’ve sat on the tarmac for hours before take off and had people get irritated to the point of having to be calmed down by the pilot.  I have sat and been de-iced then sat so long prior to take off that we had to be de-iced again.   I landed once in Salt Lake City during a snow storm after we circled the airport for nearly an hour and had the pilot come on the intercom and announce, “We’re gonna try it!” and landed to a round of applause from the passengers. 

I’ve flown in those little puddle jumpers and had to sing to my claustrophobic travel partner to keep her from having a panic attack.  I did this so she could laugh at my silliness rather than claw her way out of the hatchway.  Songs like, “Big ol’ jet airliner… don’t take me too far away…” and “Give me a ticket for an airplane… ain’t got time to take a fast train…” loudly enough to be heard over the swirling propellers and groaning engines.  (true story)  I have flown through thunderstorms that could rival a Steven Spielberg movie.

So… adding to the stress level there is a child that is unruly, running up and down the isle screaming at the top of his lungs that is causing the Captain to announce his intention to remove the mother and child so the remainder of us, say 125-150 passengers can ride white knuckled and nauseously care free.  Is this what I signed up for?  No.  Do I want to spend the next 2-3 hours with this kind of behaviour 7 miles above the ground?  No.  Was the airline at fault because the child was autistic and the mother couldn’t control him?  No.  Does this make them insensitive?  Far from it.  They were sensitive to the remaining passengers just as they would have been with an unruly drunk, an overly aggressive leach or a scantily clad female (that one outraged me, I doubt anyone’s safety and/or comfort were in jeopardy because of exposed cleavage and/or a short skirt… see paragraph eight above)  on board.

Not to say I don’t have empathy for the Mother.  No doubt it embarrassed her to be singled out the way she was.  Could the child have been medicated?  Had he ever flown before?  Was there an alternative method of travel?  All these questions come to mind but the real rub is this…

When it comes to being in public; whether in restaurants, or parks, or theatres, or the beach, or on airplanes… sensitivity should be measured with common sense.  The public in general should not have to be subjected to the “right” of an individual if it creates discord amongst the masses.  The comfort and security of the flight depended on the care, custody and control of the flight personnel. 

They did the right thing.

peace.

George Carlin is no longer with us, he died a few days ago at the age of 71.  I used to think that 71 sounded old and that it was probably a good time to go but I’m not sure what to think anymore.  I mean, Tim Russert died last week at 58, Heath Ledger died at 28.  Age seems to be no factor when it comes to untimely deaths these days, because all three of these men still seemed to have much to offer.

I liked George Carlin early on in his career.  But as George’s comedy progressed he seemed to have become bitter about life, kinda like the cantankerous old coot that comes to your family reunion and no one recalls being related to.  Comedians lauded Carlin as “the thinking man’s comedian” and I have to agree that some of his routines left me howling, several made me think and one or two just made me cringe.

Early on the Tonight Show, George introduced us to “Al Sleet aka the hippie dippy weatherman.”  “Al” apologized to some of his viewers who were no longer located where the map last indicated (swept away by some natural disaster.)  His forecast was for thundershowers but then he pointed out these Russian ICBMs (intercontinental ballistic missiles) on the radar which should cause us not to sweat any other impending weather conditions.  I liked that George Carlin, but maybe it was the era in which we lived that struck more of a chord with me. 

In 1966, the Vietnam War hadn’t reached it’s staggering height yet, there were no anti-war demonstrations or draft card burnings, Haight-Ashbury was just another street corner and the Summer of Love was still a year away.  But George Carlin was making us laugh by bringing to the fore a symbol of counter culture that became synonymous with bucking the establishment by merely passively resisting it.  Non-violence was the movement then and it was working for a short time.  Though the mainstream laughed at it, the thoughts then molded much of what we are now… to a point.

But later George Carlin became cynical and took us for a different kind of ride.  Instead of the hippie micro bus heading for Woodstock, we were on the road to oblivion with no real hope, no guidance, only our delusions to be taken out and sadly criticized.  George said in an interview once that he didn’t believe in God, or his country or much of anything else.  I wonder if he, like so many others was/are really happy in that existence.

Mistakenly, a lot of people get into their religion of choice for what they can get out of it and not for what they can put into it.  Like any relationship, what you give comes back to you many times over.  Too many times we tend to turn to our Creator when times are rough and we need help.  Then when life is good again we’ll merrily go our way no longer taking heed to what God says.

I’m not a religious person but I do believe in our Heavenly Father.  I resent it when people imply that I am not strong enough in my self or that I need faith like some sort of crutch or drug and that is why I believe… because I lack some inner strength or need a ”happy ending” to life like a fairy tale.  The realm of higher thinking has no more appeal to me than the people that rave about it.  In my mind, there is more proof that God exists then there is that He doesn’t. 

It is more difficult for a person to adhere to a principle then to go with the flow.  Weak minded people follow fads and conditions, adhere to the current trend or fashion themselves like everyone else.  I once heard a saying that goes like this: ” you must stand for something or you’ll fall for anything” and it is true.  But it is not just the standing for “something” or “anything” that is important.  That would be like an insurance policy, hoping you never have to use it but it’d be handy if you ever needed it.  Standing up for your faith, aside from some organized religion… on your own, through your own convictions and moral compass… takes a strong character.  As time goes on fewer people trust in God because of religious practices, not because of what the Bible teaches. 

I would like to be on the other side of this life to see George’s reaction to the truth, the coming aware to the fact that there is a God and a divine plan for mankind.  It is not a belief that I carry out in the open or that I make my daily concern, which is not to say that others that do are wrong.  But I am finding more and more that faith is perceived as a sign of weakness or a character flaw. 

Look at it this way.  If I am wrong and the George Carlins of this world was/are right, all I’ve done is enjoyed the fruitages of a divine spirit, a higher plane of hope and purpose and tried to govern my life accordingly.  Because of my convictions I have strived to be a good person despite my imperfections.  But if I am right… well, far be it for me to gloat and say “I told you so.”  Suffice it to think that we will both be pleasantly reprised.

Thanks for the laughs, George Carlin.  You no longer have to sweat anything… take your rest now.

Enjoy a couple of clips from George Carlin’s stand up routine by scrolling down. 

Peace, man.          

George Carlin - Religion is bullshit.

near the mark… not on it.

peace.

George Carlin at the Tonight Show (1966)

early report from “Al Sleet aka the hippy dippy weatherman”

peace, man

As of today I’ll be out for a while… but fear not, I shall return.

There are distant voices calling me,

there is a heart I yearn to have

beating in unison with my own…

up close, in sync… beautiful harmony.

So I will travel to the Great White North…

we will wine and dine 

cram as much living as we can

into the next few days.

There are always the archives…

even I check them out once in a while

just to see where I was

and if I still am.

You’ll be fine… trust me.

peace.

The voice is far away in another country, yet it’s sentiments are being heard throughout the world today and very close to my heart.  ”Happy Father’s Birthday,” he says.

I spent the morning reading the newspaper.  My home town is experiencing the flood waters that has dominated the news these past few days.  Cedar Rapids is only 27 miles from where I was born and raised.  I thought about the thousands of families that have been disrupted by this natural disaster and the holiday that wasn’t for them.

The paper highlighted military fathers.  It would be a severe strain on a marriage to be in that situation, with the family head off to fight in a war half a world away.  Sons and fathers leaving behind their own sons and daughters in a long distance relationship that would be difficult in it’s communication and sporatic at best.

I have raised my kids, they are now young adults who have their own lives to lead, their own stories to tell.  I remember many years of their depending on me to raise them right, to comfort and care for them, to raise them true to my ideals.  It wasn’t always easy, nothing worth while ever is.  We learned a lot in those years, even as they were growing, I was growing, too.

Often times being a kid with my kids was the norm.  Playing games or practical jokes, discovering the bond that is family.  Being a father puts you in all kinds of circumstances and postures; of being a teacher or a student to their needs, of being a friend or a disciplinarian to their desires.  Throwing a ball or helping with homework, learning a new idea or discovering an old one; being a dad opens the door to life in a  whole new way. 

Fatherhood.  A gift from God, the ability to procreate. It is a tough commitment that many are abandoning today.  It isn’t hard to become a Father, but it is hard to live up to the responsibility of being one.  It was a struggle for me, I’ll have to admit.  I didn’t have a lot to draw off of since my parents were divorced while I was still a baby.  So many of the ideas I had about what to do and what to be came by happenstance much of the time.

But we made it.  My kids came out virtually intact on into young adulthood and my ability as a father seemed adequate enough. Even after the divorce, I am still their Dad and the affection has turned from reliance to realization.  They have found it isn’t easy to be all grown up, gone are those days of being taken care of by the parents.  They must make it on their own.  I sense a new respect from them now.  Being accountable for one’s actions is what becoming an adult is all about; no body’s there to bail you out, you’re on your own.

I recently remarried.  I devoted the rest of my life to my French Canadian sweetheart.  She has recently divorced and shares the custody of her two children, which makes me their step-father.  Her oldest daughter is 11, her son is 9.  They have learned English as a second language, French being their mother tongue.  Living in another country some 1800 miles away is a long distance relationship  we work on every day.

I called this morning to talk to my new bride, and her son answered.  We have met briefly, but he is extremely shy and struggles with my American banter.  Usually our conversation is me talking and he giving one word answers like, ”yes,” “no,” and “uh-huh.”  The longest sentence I think I’ve heard him say on the telephone is, “Wait, I’ll go get my Mom.”

But today he said something different in a low, shy voice, ”Happy Father’s Birthday.”  Of course, I knew what he meant.  His mother and I chuckled over it when she came on the phone to talk, her sweet accent beckoning to me.  I know in my heart where my home is, it is there with her and our family.

It is a re-birth in a way, going through these times again of adolescents full of wonder, questions and reasoning’s far beyond what a mere adult can understand.  I bring with this new life a certain amount of experience I gained from the first go round.  I enter with my heart open to the new discoveries each child can bring about themselves and me. 

You never stop being a parent.  Being a father and becoming one again is probably one of the greatest joys a man can have. 

That little guy has a great future.

peace. 

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