Po' buckra

Why A 55 Year Old Man Has Decided To Get Tattoos

2012-02-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

I know, tattoos are old news. Before the advent of Punk and New Wave, tattoos were mainly for sailors, bikers etc....in the early 80's I had a couple of friends that started to get some. I loved the concept then, as I do now. It's simple. It's art. And it's very personal. And they do not wash off!

Before you knew it, it became very popular. Rockers, athletes, hipsters and business people all seemed to be getting them. That bothered some folks, but not me. I think it's cool that anyone would make an artistic and permanent commitment, no matter how trendy it all became.

My hesitation was simple. What do I want on my body and who is the best artist to do this? 30 years later, it all came together. I did not take this task lightly. Literally, years (decades) passed before I found the right design and just by happenstance, the right artist to pull it off.

It had to be meaningful (to me) and it had to be executed well. As far as meaningful goes, certain subject matters have been stuck in my brain for years. I just had to settle on the right images. Things that are close to my heart. The subject matter basically fell into 3 categories: Film, Music and Science Fiction (old school, of course....I'm an old school guy!)

Another factor in all of this is that you are not on this planet forever. Life can be cut down short, and I felt that now is the time. You never know. No one gets outta here alive, and dammit, I want some tattoos! Tattoos look best on young, fresh skin and at 55, I have very few places on my body that remain that way! Fortunately, my shoulder has good skin, and my non-driving side (left) arm is OK, so there were choices.

Stacey and just happened to walk in a new satellite location of Sacred Rose Tattoo in Albany. We met Daniel Herlihy and he allowed us to look through some books of the tattooists that worked at that location. His book blew me away. The tattoo my eyes lit upon was such a small and simple tattoo, but the lines were very clean and his colors were great. I found my guy!

I told him about my ideas and he seemed interested in seeing them, thus an appointment was made and now I had to go through my ideas (many images saved on my computer) and choose the one I wanted to start with.

I am a huge Federico Fellini fan. His films wormed their way into my heart back in the late 70's when I took a course in college called "Appreciation Of Foreign Films". We had a wonderful instructor, and the very first film he showed the class (on a 16 mm projector!) was Fellini's La Strada. Not only did I find the movie beautiful and well made, I was blown away by Giulietta Masina's mesmerizing performance, I simply fell in love with her in this film. A very tragic figure, but filled with such a simple warmth, naivety and a superb comic ability that is just heartbreaking.

Our instructor made a special point of describing in great detail of the ultra-fab composer Nino Rota's use of musical themes for each character. Combined with Fellini's images, the music is pure magic for me. Rota served as Fellini's main composer through most of his films and it is a collaboration that I think has never been surpassed.

Thus I knew what would be a meaningful tattoo. Something that would represent this image/music mixture that is so important to me.

As far as determining the image, I was in luck. Fellini was also a masterful illustrator. He has tons of sketches he drew for his characters and these images lend themselves into what what I consider great tattoo subjects - colorful, whimsical, and a true artistic sense. Luckily, the internet is filled with these images. Also, I have most every soundtrack these guy's did, recorded on CD, which are usually loaded up with photo's of Fellini's drawings.

I have an import CD of the soundtrack for La Strada and The Nights Of Cabiria that includes a fabulous drawing Fellini made of himself with Nino Rota. Heart be still! This is it!

I now had all the pieces: the art and the artist to render it upon my skin. I went for it and Daniel did such a great job! It really helped seal the deal when I showed him this image. His eyes literally lit up and he smiled. He loved it and I could see that he did and I knew this was going to work out well. And it did.

I was a little nervous about the pain factor. I know many folks with tattoos, some small, some large, and they all told me that the pain feels like someone is scratching you with a needle (which they are, but the needle is purring away at a million miles an hour!). As it turned out, since this was my shoulder side with no bones to tattoo over (which can be a bit more painful), the experience was not bad at all. Very tolerable. This one took about 2 1/2 hours, which did get a little tedious towards the end, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. And I'm so glad I did.

When Daniel was finished, he wrapped it with Saran Wrap and told me to remove it in about 2 hours. After that, wash it gently with mild soap and to just use my fingers. No scrubbing! The first 2 days I would do this several times a day and apply a light layer of Bacitracin. After that, keep the area clean and apply a mild, fragrance free skin lotion, also several times a day for 2 weeks. Expect scabbing and some color to fall off (and not freak out!). In 3 weeks it was basically "healed" and looked like it should, but Daniel mentioned that tattoos really take about a year to truly heal.

Of course, after the first one, I couldn't wait for the next one, so about a month later I got Gelsomina from La Strada done on my forearm. It's still healing and by God, I've booked my next one. Yep, another Fellini drawing, but after that, I will be done with Fellini. I gotta leave room for my Sci-Fi and music tattoos.

Mid-life crisis - no. Art - yes. And I'm a happy guy.

The Happy Eggs (part 2)

2010-09-07T17:41:00.000-07:00

The Happy Eggs also did many original songs to go along with our quirky covers. At that time in Charlotte, most bands were expected to play an entire evening - only one band on a bill. This required an extensive playlist. I think at one point we had 4 sets of material that contained around 80 tunes! Eventually, it became more common to have 2 bands on a bill - an opening act and a headliner. This was a good idea as far as I was concerned. It was physically very tough to play this manic music for 4 sets. (I remember I was shocked once I moved to San Francisco to find the common practice out here was having around 4 bands on the same bill). In Charlotte, it was also required that the bands supply the P.A. systems and microphones and sometimes a person to run the sound!

Our originals generally fell into two camps: Jamie usually brought in more pop sounding songs. These were fine tunes, many in the mold of some of the poppier Costello/Nick Lowe tunes that he was into. At times he worked with a very brilliant and funny lyricist named Mark X.. These songs were generally quick, short, maybe a little snotty and to the point. Fine economical writing. A couple of Jamie’s tunes ended up on The Spongetones first album (more on that later!).

The weirder and quirkier tunes were dubbed “Tweco’s Nightmare Music” (Tweco refer’s to a brand name on one of Murphy’s favorite pieces of costume head wear, and regardless of how it really should be pronounced, we called it “tweako” - much more appropriate!) Most of these songs were collaborative in the purest sense. I have very fond memories of being at Jamie’s house for rehearsals and basically we would start sticking together small individual parts that Murphy, Jamie or myself had floating around in our heads. The EP (which I will discuss in detail in a moment) was a prime example of song writing like this. Nothing was too crazy to try, and usually, Tweco himself (Murphy) would be responsible for some of the most twisted stuff we produced. Jamie would shine it all up a bit and presto - new songs!

We would also write lyrics to some of these songs in the same manner. We would sit in Jamie’s living room, drink beer and just throw stuff out there! There were a couple of tunes where we would literally trade off on a line by line basis. There were no rules or restrictions. The crazier the better, and some of this stuff was unbelievably hilarious to come up with and perform. At least to us!

Soon, Murphy started to bring in completed songs and lyrics. They were decidedly “Twekco Nightmare Songs” and a blast to play. I’m sure Jamie would still help polish them off if needed. I only contributed one complete song (which Jamie helped complete), and while it’s embarrassing to be reminded of it today, it was the first original song that I wrote the music, the lyrics and sang lead on!

In 1981, Jamie arranged for us to go in to Charlotte’s Reflection Sound Studio to record a 4 song 7" EP. Mark Williams was the engineer and Jamie was the producer. We were very excited about this because many bands we releasing 7" singles around this time. The most notable being REM’s coveted Radio Free Europe single (which I proudly own!). Jamie’s other band (The Spongetones) had also recently released a Jamie produced 7". That format was the craze at that time and relatively affordable to make.

On this record, all four tunes fell neatly into the "Tweco’s Nightmare Music" category. I think these really captured the essence of the Eggs best. I’m pretty sure Jamie would agree with this, because at that time, he had a more appropriate outlet for his pop songs with The Spongetones.

Here’s a brief run down on the tunes, as best I can remember.....

Wake Up: A great song to kick it all off! A very twisted main riff with the guitar, bass and synthesizer playing in unison with a cool harmony appearing at the last riff. Murphy also gets a very cool bubblin’ synth thing going on in the background. Listening to it right now, I am flat out impressed to the great sound and production Jamie got on this.! It gets real crazy during the verses. The riff switches to 5/4 while I doggedly stay in 4/4. Each line is song by a different singer in this order - Jamie, Murphy and myself. Some very weird backing harmonies by Murphy and Jamie really put this one over the top.

Rippy: After a very queasy intro sung by Murphy, the song launches into a tune about a psycho killer that likes to ride the bus. I’m pretty sure these are Murphy’s lyrics with Jamie coming up with the background vocal parts. This one is very Devo/Talking Heads influenced and I think most of the music is Jamie’s. Murphy's synth parts are inspired and the backing vocals are something to behold. Spot on. This one absolutely killed live.

And Sons Of Baskerville: This one was very collaborative. After a short intro of us making goofy vocal sounds, the song gets under way with a guitar lick in 7/4 that I had zipping around in my head at the time. Murphy adds some choice wolf howling that as far as I know, was the only reference to the Hound Of The Baskervilles that I assume Murphy was referencing in the title! The verse is Jamie’s and the lyrics are all Murphy’s and oddly, this is a sweet love song! Some more very inspired alternating backing vocals, and a nice little instrumental break near the end. The finale has the 7/4 guitar lick with Murphy pronouncing that he “believes in the strength of aspirin” which was a line I had come up with. I’m pretty sure this is the song that due to general weakness I was feeling from dealing with the flu while recording, I had to use double sided duct tape on my kick drum pedal to keep my foot from sliding off!

Fat Man: I think this is the first song we wrote as a collaborating team. I’m pretty sure Jamie had the song, but the lyrics were a blast with each of us throwing out some offensive line and stringing them together. We would usually start our sets with this one. Murphy would tape down a key on his synthesizer on some crazy setting and I would come out by myself and do a drum solo until the rest of the band felt like getting on stage. Not many punk bands were featuring drum solos back then...

At the end of this song there is a quick little hidden track of some of us and our wives murdering the theme from My Three Sons at my house. Jamie's on drums, Murphy may be manning the xylophone, the women are on percussion and I am the one playing saxophone, which was later used on our version of The Resident’s Constantinople!

I really love this record. The writing, performances, arrangements and the production are all top notch. Jamie did a fabulous job on this (with the help of Mark Williams). Though I would have preferred using my drums instead of the studios' kit, I think this is an awesome record. Though I haven't mentioned Kenny (our bass player during this), I would like to say that he did a great job on this record!

Also - if Murphy or Jamie read this and would like to add and/or correct any of it, please do so in the "comments"! I would welcome it...my brain did the best it could on this recording made almost 30 years ago!

The cover art was created by me, literally using old school cut and paste! I had done many flyers at that point, so I offered my services. We released it on Jamie's "Ovo" label. I do not know how many were pressed, but unfortunately, a bunch were lost at Greg Shaw's Bomp warehouse, never to be found. We occasionally get requests for copies of this record, but they seem to be all gone for good. I only have two!

We sent tons of them out to record labels hoping someone would pick us up, but no one did. There was a funny rejection letter from Ralph Records saying more or less "anyone who plays DOA and Timothy is either a real sick puppy or my kind of guy"

Cool.

Very cool.

If you have not gotten yourself a digital copy of this incredible EP already, I think it's time to Getcha one now!

The Happy Eggs (part 1)

2010-09-01T18:09:00.000-07:00

It's way past time I get back into my Life In Music blog, and this turns out to be a very appropriate time to do so! We're in the 80's now, and most importantly, the highly sought after (at least by a few!) Happy Eggs 7" EP is now available for download at iTunes! Please follow the link at the end of this chapter and download you some very tasty Happy Eggs! We would appreciate that!

At some point in 1980, Jamie approached Murphy and me about cranking up The Happy Eggs again, but this time it was going to be a whole different ball game than the band that made the 12" single. Jamie was interested in turning it into a punk/new wave band. By this time (thanks to Jamie) I had pretty much accepted that this was indeed fabulous music and while of course I cannot remember the particular details of the discussions that followed, the three of us decided that it was a go.

Murphy would be switching over to a monophonic Korg synthesizer, and the three of us would handle vocals. Jamie knew a bass player - Kenny - and he was brought on board. Our goal was to have a blast, play well, be open to any kind of music and have an insane stage-show. It was the Alice Cooper in all of us! We were naturally irreverent fellas anyway, so no music or style would be spared!

We were a bit older and definitely more experienced than most local punk bands in Charlotte. The Milestone Club had given the area youngsters and punk rockers a place to hang out and see great bands. It was a heavy staple in my diet and I could see the scene evolve. There were bands sprouting up everywhere - some awesome and some sucked - but it was a scene and for the most part a lot of fun. But I remember I felt a tad anxious as to how the scensters were going to accept the Eggs. It’s silly of course, but to these kids, the worst thing you could be was to be a poseur, and since it is my nature to worry, of course I hoped that we wouldn’t be labeled as such. After a while, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what the kid’s thought. While we certainly were not “punks” (we all had real jobs!), we certainly were licking our chops at the thought of embracing the snottiness. Here we were, 3 smart-ass pals since high school, and since the three of us would be sharing the vocals.....we all had microphones.

Good God!

It was decided that we would play a mixture of covers (straight versions or drastically rearranged versions) and originals, and this evolved into quite a repertoire. The covers were insane. There were some straight up covers of punk and new wave songs. Lots of Costello, Police, Talking Heads, Iggy Pop, Lene Lovich (!) even some very uncool covers for the time such as Adam and the Ants, which at first made me a bit uncomfortable, fearing that to kids would hate it and give us shit about it. I remember people yelling“Black Flag kills Ants dead” (man..that takes you back, huh?) and that sort of bothered me, but it didn’t take too long for me to get the appropriate "piss off wanker!" attitude and it was indeed fun to get a reaction.

There were also some very..bizarre..covers we would do. Again, some straight some not so straight. Between us, we had many years of being rock musicians already under our belts, so the choices here were quite unique. Some of them were hold overs from our glam rock days and these seemed to fit in quite easily into a punk/new wave context: Iggy Pop, David Bowie, Sparks (I think about 3 songs!) And Alice Cooper. Some didn’t fit in anywhere: The Monkees’ Your Auntie Grizelda pops into mind. And there were many that Jamie would do his magic on and reconstruct into new wave madness. He really liked ska beats, so many of these were rearranged into hyper-fast ska beat beauties: Cream’s Mother’s Lament, Mother’s of Invention’s Let’s Make the Water Turn Black, Spirit’s Dark Eyed Woman. He also came up with a very twisted Devo-esque arrangement of The Doors’ Hello, I Love You that was fabulous!

We did 2 versions of Bloodrock’s D.O.A. We were all familiar with it because there was a while when you couldn’t help but hear it on the radio! (I actually saw them open up for Grand Funk). At first we did it pretty darned straight - Jamie wanted a pretty faithful version. We tried. But dammit, there were just too many quiet parts and me and Murphy could not resist the opportunity to kid around with it (remember...we had microphones!). The nature of the song and the lyrics were ripe for fucking with and we were relentless. Finally, Jamie threw up his arms and gave up on doing it straight. He rearranged it into another brilliant Devo-esque and angular new wave classic which clipped along at a pretty good pace so Murphy and I had very little opportunity to throw in our...embellishments!

But it was Jamie’s arrangement of West Side Story’s Jets Theme that to this day, I think is one of the most creative and brilliant pieces of rock and roll genius I have ever had the pleasure of playing. Ever. He took the original and maybe a tiny bit of flavoring from Alice Cooper’s Gutter Cat vs The Jets and stood it on it’s end. It was fast and full of attitude. It rocked hard..It was funny and it really showed what the Eggs were all about. It’s a snotty masterpiece that retains the original spirit and adds a heaping dose of modern (at the time) irreverence. It was in our wheelhouse.

Coming up next - we write the songs, we record the songs, Jamie turns into the busiest man in showbiz and much, much more!

And don't forget! Go here and buy!
The Happy Eggs E.P. on iTunes

Rest In Peace, Jimmy Duckworth

2010-08-21T17:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I heard the sad news that Jimmy Duckworth had died. Jimmy, and his brother Larry were two of the finest rock and jazz musicians Charlotte has ever known. While I haven't seen Jimmy in about 30 years, the hurt is real.

I first came across Jimmy at one of the Battle Of The Bands showcases that would occasionally take place at the Park Road Shopping Center parking lot. I was very young, maybe 10 years old, but rock music was beginning to settle in my blood. It was the mid 60's and this particular event had little trouble luring me in.

There were bands everywhere! Most were rockin' out with gritty garage rock muscle, some were soulful and some were square show bands. I let myself drift over to the dirtier sounding garage bands. The loudness, the excitement, the gear, and the look were all seductive. Two bands stood out - The Paragons with Pat Walters and Larry's Sound Dept. featuring Jimmy and Larry. Both bands had players that could play and all looked extremely cool. I was in heaven and these were the two best bands in the world! I honestly believe that this is the cathartic moment that sent me on my rock and roll way.

I'm not sure how I got to actually visit Jimmy and Larry at their house (with a couple of buddies), one afternoon. I think we had an older friend that knew them, but regardless, there we were. I remember only three things about that visit.
1. They lived in a split level house. Cool.
2. They had a St. Bernard. Scary.
3. And they had a monkey. A real live monkey. Holy Crap!!!!

Years later, I was fortunate to have a couple of music classes with Jimmy at Central Piedmont Community College. We both performed with the CPCC Recorder Consort which was a blast! It was there that I'd like to think we became friends. Not only was he one of the best guitar players around, he was one of the funniest guys I've ever known. He always looked a bit meek and timid to me, but he had a wicked sense of humor. This led to some very funny (and at times, subversive) moments under the always watchful, yet hopelessly naive eye of music director Mary Lou Pascal!

Around that time we were all shifting into the jazz scene, some more than others. Jimmy was one of Charlotte's best jazz players and for a little while I dipped my toe into the scene playing in the Charlie Estridge Trio. I've mentioned this before, but Charlie insisted that I only play the drums with brushes and that was fine by me. I could fake it better! But there was that one fateful show that on the very first song, all of the brushes disintegrated and fell out of the handles. Both of them. Jimmy was there. Sorry I sucked so bad that night, Jimmy!

Rest in peace Jimmy. You helped this former 10 year old set a course for a pretty decent life in this crazy thing we call rock and roll. You also made me laugh. I know I'm not alone.

And you had a monkey.

Damn.

Gil

A Serious Case Of Classic Rock-itis!

2010-03-03T19:00:00.000-08:00

I've been on a CD acquisition binge lately, trading in a bunch of stuff to get a different bunch of of stuff. While most of it is old music, much of it is new to my ears. It's been very fun and rewarding, but it's also a bit overwhelming. There is so much music out there! But I'm down with that. I'm not sure why the bug has bitten me so hard lately, but with the trade-ins and such, I really haven't blown a huge wad of bills on these. And fortunately, I'm very happy with all of them, with just a couple exceptions!

I did a little bit of research on these by visiting various music sites and listening to small samples of selected tracks. I usually buy "blind" (I guess that should actually be "deaf") but this way I can be more informed and it definitely reduces the amount of take backs. I am saddened that most of Argent's catalog is out of print..After hearing bits of several of their albums, I decided I must have All Together Now and Ring Of Hands (in spite of a tune called Cast Your Spell Uranus....) I will keep searching.

There has been only one title I didn't keep, though...(I will duck as I say this)..The Byrds - Sweetheart Of the Rodeo. It just didn't do it for me at this time..and I will probably try it again, but hey, I did keep The Buffalo Springfield CD!

Here are some thoughts on these. A serious case of Classic Rock-itist.

Donovan - Troubadour The Definitive Collection (1964 - 1976)
Groovy: Much of this is new to me, with the exception of 2 45's I had as a kid: Sunshine Superman and Mellow Yellow. Disc one is awesome. I love Donovan's voice and upon hearing the really early folkie stuff wished that Dylan's voice was as pleasant! The Trip is just the grooviest song ever. London Town is the prettiest song ever. This was also the first time I have heard his version of Season Of The Witch! Thanks to a heads up via Peter Holsapple's blog,
I have now heard the Super Session version (awesome), but the one I was most familiar with was the jaw droppingly bombastic but really earnest version from the Vanilla Fudge's 3rd LP! And I still love Sunshine Superman.
Bummer: Anything containing the words "Barabajagal" and/or "Riki Tiki Tavi". I don't care who's playing on it.

Buffalo Springfield Buffalo Springfield (1966)
Groovy: Half of this record sounds pretty good to me. Lots of guitars and nice vocal harmonies . My faves are Sit Down I Think I Love You, Flying On The Ground Is Wrong and Do I Have To Come Right Out And Say It. There's a folkie/pop/country/rock thing going on here and I think they can usually pull it off.
Bummer: The other half of this record. It doesn't sound tight to me and I think it's recorded terribly. To my ears, some of the playing sounds sloppy. I also wish Stills sang leads more. I'm not a big fan of Furay's vocals.

Traffic - Smiling Phases (Compilation 1967 - 1974)
Groovy: Well, most of this is in fact pretty damn groovy. The only full album I was familiar with was John Barleycorn Must Die which I had as a kid. This is a pretty comprehensive compilation and will do quite nicely for the time being.
Bummer: Nothing yet.

The Steve Miller Band - Sailor (1968)
Groovy: My first toe-dippin' into this band, but better late than never! I really love Dear Mary - very pretty chord progression that sounds very Hollies - like, but I'm cool with that. Quicksilver Girl is the standout track for me. Just gorgeous. I thought Living In The USA came from Miller later than this, but it's a good one to show off their more rocking side. Even though Dime-A-Dance Romance borrows...liberally..the guitar riff from Jumping Jack Flash, it's a pretty great tune with a very fine vocal performance.
Bummer: The above mentioned Rolling Stone's riff and I'm not sold on the instrumental fog horn cut of Song For Our Ancestors as being the best way to kick off the record.

The James Gang - Yer' Album (1969)
Groovy: I love Joe Walsh. I love the way he plays and I really love the way he sings! As a kid, I had The James Gang's "Third" LP (which I need to find on CD), and of course I was familiar with all those Funk #40whatever songs, but the pleasure for me are the cuts with the pretty melodies and his unusual but very endearing vocals. On this record, my faves are Take A Look Around and Collage. Covering Stephen Stills' Bluebird is a pretty inspired choice, and I'm thinking it works out pretty well.
Bummer: All those irritating little studio soundbites in between the songs. I don't like hitting the "next" button that many times!

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Bayou Country (1969)
Groovy: This is my first CCR album! It's taken me this long, but I'm very glad I finally got one! Swampy, snakey grooves and I'm most impressed with Fogerty's vocals. Penthouse Pauper and Born On The Bayou are two great examples of his powerhouse pipes. This reissue contains some live tracks that rock very hard. I'm loving this. Must get more!
Bummer: I never need to hear Proud Mary again, and good heavens - the one chord rhythm guitar track on Keep On Chooglin' ! Poor guy's hand must have been killing him...

Z.Z. Top - Z.Z. Top's First Album (1970)
Groovy: Surprisingly, this album is the one that has completely blown me away. I'm shocked as to how great is. It rocks so damn hard! Of course the guitar work is absolutely searing, but the biggest mind blower for me is the drum sound! The snare drum is right in your face. I really cannot think of any other rock records from 1970 with such a big, almost contemporary sound. Check out Certified Blues! It's huge! But it's just not the drums..the whole band plays really well together, and there's even some very surprising tricky stuff going on, in particular the drums and bass on Bedroom Thang. Very cool.
Bummer: The use of the word "squank".

Joe Walsh - The Smoker You Drink, The Player You Get (1973)
Groovy: Of course Rocky Mountain Way rocks very hard. His songwriting is getting a bit more complex on this, and it works for me, esp. on the very fab Meadows, regardless of the Woman From Tokyo riff. It's a hell of a lot nicer here.
Bummer: Sometimes this one gets a little unfocused and maybe too ambitious (Days Gone By dips it's toe into Steely Dan world (which isn't a bad thing, but it doesn't quite work for me here.), but I may upgrade this one to groovy any moment now...I want Barnstorm next!

Jethro Tull - War Child (1974)
Groovy: With the exception of Bungle In The Jungle, this album is new to me. It seems that I am a huge Jethro Tull fan, esp. the first 5 albums, and of those, esp. the first 2. This one sounds good to me - very proggy and ornate. I love Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of The New Day.
Bummer: Though hinted at since Minstrel In The Gallery, Ian Anderson's voice is starting to sound weird and a bit forced. I'm pretty sure this is where I'll stop with Jethro Tull, and I'm fine with that.

Chris Squire - Fish Out Of Water (1975)
Groovy: I got this when it came out and absolutely loved it! My favorite bass player and drummer together! I think it's the best of the first round of Yes solo efforts, and listening to it now, I'm shocked as to how pop some of this sounds! You By My Side is a glorious, bouncy pop tune. Bonus points for Squire's voice, which can hit the high notes as well as Jon Anderson.
Bummer: This time around I find Bruford's drum parts a tad uninspired. Not much meat for the old boy, but the snare sound is still there, tight as a gnat's ass.

U.K. - U.K. (1978)
Groovy: I LOVED this album when it was released. Prog Rock was certainly dying a slow death by this time, so this was a super treat for me. A true proggy supergroup! Of course the main appeal for me was Bill Bruford's drumming. More of his signature snare sound reunited with John Wetton. The playing is awesome, but not as improvisational as King Crimson. In The Dead Of Night is the standout track for me. Lots of prog-riffage throughout with the help of Alan Holdsworth (with a very liquid sounding guitar) and much keyboard coloring and soloing by Eddie Jobson.
Bummer: This time out, Bruford is primarily using roto-toms which display pretty precise tuning capabilities, but they sound a little cold to me. A far cry from his bizarre multiple sized regular toms (not set up in the usual descending size) he used in King Crimson. I also find a little bit of Holdworth's style goes a long way. The noodling and liquid sound is a little too jazz-rock fusion for me..at least for now...

XTC - White Music (1978)
Groovy:Heavens..how they've grown! I love this stuff. Along with Gang Of 4 and Devo, this record in particular convinced me there was a future with no future, for a progressive rock fan like myself. Crazy, energetic and very quirky. Not too far removed from prog rock really, but it was so new sounding and exciting! What the hell???? A cover of All Along The Watchtower? This Is Pop, Radios In Motion...fantastic. Cross Wires...unbelievable. I love this.
Bummer: The crappy bonus tracks that are shoved into the middle of the album. Unfortunately, all other XTC CDs I have suffer from this irritating practice. Hideous.

Jamie & Steve - English Afterthoughts (2009)
Groovy: Well, it's a duo effort by my pal Jamie Hoover and super bass player/writer Steve Stoeckel from Charlotte's insanely popular The Spongetones. These two have been playing together for almost 30 years and it's pretty obvious that they can play and write quite well together! On this release, I'm kind of hearing Jamie in an Andy Partridge mood with Steve being in a very smooth Colin Moulding state of mind. I love Between The Lines and the bouncy Do Be Cruel. A very good release and everyone who is reading this should buy one - it could help us finally getting around to releasing a very nice Happy Eggs CD!
Bummer: I miss Jamie!

Ennio Morricone - Quentin Tarantino Movies (2009)
Groovy: I love Morricone. I particularly love Italian film composers (Nino Rota!). I must have at least 20 Morricone soundtracks. He is so much more than just his spaghetti westerns!
Bummer: I think this one will be traded away soon. Boo! I find this uninspired. Sorry!

The Magnetic Fields - Realism (2010)
Groovy: I love this. I adore this. I'm really glad Stephin Merritt made this record at this time. I suppose The Magnetic Fields will always be judged by their breakthrough album 69 Love Songs ( which I consider one of the best 3 albums of the 90's, along with The Loud Family's Interbabe Concern and The Flaming Lip's The Soft Bulletin), and this new release sounds comparable to me, and I think that's a good thing. The wonderful and glorious chamber music instruments are back and sound in fine form and are breathtakingly charming. I especially love You Must Be Out Of Your Mind, I Don't Know What To Say (with it's fabulously Goffin/King type melody and song structure), and the deliriously beautiful Better Things. Whoa. The cello. The melody. I'm in heaven. On the more adventurous and somewhat goofy side, I adore the absolutely insane The Dada Polka.
Heaven. And it's actually new!!!
Bummer: Nothing.

Crazy. My faves are Z.Z. Top and The Magnetic Fields. Go figure!

Sweet

2010-01-14T14:12:00.000-08:00

Well, there you go. I've graduated! I think I only have two other certificates that have been awarded to me - a Myers Park High School graduation diploma and while I was there, I won a Blue Ribbon Art Award for a linoleum cutting print I did of the coolest art teacher a kid could've had - Dean Barber. May he R.I.P...

But anyway, I'm not planning on resting in peace just yet, and while the above certificate does not give me eternal life, it does close a chapter on this journey that began last May. Good Lord! Next up for me will be a blood test in 3 months to check my PSA levels. Hopefully it will be around the zero range. If not, I'm sure the doctors will have yet another course of treatment to put me through, but whatever. We'll see, but I do feel optimistic. I now just want to relax.

I have avoided mentioning by name the medical group that has been treating me. I thought maybe I shouldn't divulge who they were for some reason or another, but I'm not going to black out their name on my certificate. I have nothing bad to say about them. Aces in my book, from the diagnosis, biopsy, the endless tests and scans, the surgery, the catheter adventures, the Lupron injection and as just completed, the radiation therapy. I trust them and their doctors. Of course it ain't over yet. They may not have cured me, but that's not the point. They've done everything in their power to try to cure me.

But what I want to talk about here are the troops in the trenches. The nurses, the receptionists and in particular, the radiation therapists. These are the folks that do the grunt work. They are on the job 8 hours a day seeing a steady flow of usually very sick and unhappy people. I was extremely lucky to have this particular group of men and women treating me. They responded perfectly to my brand of humor, which I was hoping would help them relax a bit, so I could relax a bit. I learned that this helps me enormously in getting through stressful situations, which became apparent in 1989 when I ended up at San Francisco General Hospital for emergency eye surgery after I got attacked walking poor Stacey (who had only been in San Francisco for about a month!) to my apartment from her job at Tower Records (another R.I.P...)

Long story short, a young man ran up behind us and smashed me in the eye with either his fist or some object. The result was a lacerated cornea that required 10 stitches to close, about 20 stitches in my face, and a 5 day stay in the hospital. He didn't rob us or anything, he just hurt me. Aside from knowing something was seriously wrong with my eye, (it felt like there was a huge chunk of glass from my glasses stuck in there - there wasn't), I was overcome with embarrassment that Stacey now had to deal with this. Welcome to San Francisco, honey. It's really a cool place. No, really!

In the ambulance, I told the attendant that I was really happy that my nose wasn't broken (one of my biggest fears), and he looked at me like I was crazy. "Sir - you have a very serious eye injury!" Oh..ok. Yikes!

At the emergency room, it seemed as if the whole hospital dropped everything and came to my aide. I remember sitting upright as phone calls for eye specialists were placed. Doctors were swarming at my face to get a good look at my eye, as I signed papers saying that I understood I could die during surgery (!), and an anesthesiologist asking me what I had for dinner (steamed spinach and tofu, which fortunately the guy replied with a much appreciated "remind me to never eat at your house!").

The thing that was getting to me was that everyone just looked so damned grim. I know they were just doing their job and wanting very much to save my right eyeball (they did), but it was all too much for me. I raised my hand and said "Stop! Is my other other eye ok?" "Yes" a woman doctor replied. "Then could you all please lighten up just a tad? You're freaking me out!"

I honestly do not remember how they reacted, but whatever happened, I think that I was able to calm down a bit, enough to give instructions to a nurse to please give a phone number to Stacey so she could call my wife (we were separated at that point) because she knew how to contact my family back in North Carolina. Imagine how my poor little morphine addled brain must have tried to process the sight of my wife and my girlfriend both staring down at me as I woke up from surgery!

The point being is that a little bit of levity helps. It's a self-preservation lesson that I have had to call upon many times during my cancer treatments. I was so very fortunate to not have had any significant side effects from the radiation. The doctor told me that I stood up to the treatments "remarkably well", but the tiredness thing could rear it's ugly head after the treatments were over. I'm most pleased that my bladder hung in there like a fuckin' champ even though I now sport a permanent and very strange new...hairstyle...down there..(think Munchkin Merkin...or not....)

(sorry!)

But it was still a very stressful 33 sessions for me (too bad I couldn't get one extra 1/3 of a dose in to satisfy RIAA standards!). The endless driving from work to Oakland, the constant battle to avoid constipation, the insane task in arriving with a somewhat full bladder (but not too much!) for the actual zapping, and just plain dealing with something ugly I had to put my body through, yet again.

Yesterday at my last session, I was saying some genuinely sad goodbyes to my therapists, and one of the guys (who is a San Jose Sharks fan!) told me this: "Mr. Ray, not many people come through here joking around with a sense of humor like yours. It was a real pleasure working with you." I told him that I have learned in life to always tip your bartender (this goes back to my Game Theory days when drink tickets seemed to be used up during soundcheck...) and most importantly, be good to the caregivers. His comment really made my day, but it is indeed tempered by the fact that it was the only way I could have made it through this, and most importantly, my cancer never hurt.

I'm a very lucky man.

Unless something bizarre or newsworthy comes up before my PSA test in 3 months, I'm gonna shut this part of Po'buckra down. I'm going to try to get back to more fun things such as pop culture, adventures with Dexter and hopefully resume my "Life In Music" series. I believe I need to start wrapping my brain around my time with The Happy Eggs!

So there you go.

I now know that I could die tomorrow and die as a man that knows he is truly loved. I have received so much love and support from loved ones close and far away. The world is filled with great people whose job is to help you and I can now accept them warmly into my heart. It really is a beautiful thing, and I will do my best to give back. Love makes the world go 'round. Treat others nice, cause you never know when you might need a free beer.

I will leave you with my very favorite quote from this adventure. This was from an on-call emergency nurse during a particularly rough weekend: "Mr. Ray, the doctor says to relax and don't worry. A swollen and discolored penis is completely normal at this time."

Sweet.

My Favorite Sound

2009-12-19T11:13:00.000-08:00

Check out my cool Xmas/Radiation Advent Calendar! The best thing about it, other than remnants of where Dexter has tried to eat it, is that I'm over the half way point! So far, so good. No major problems or side-effects other than having a bit of a cold at the moment, and a slightly queasy stomach.

One thing about this calendar that a couple of people have mentioned is that I get a couple of holiday breaks; 4 days off in a row for the major holidays. I assume the remaining cancer cells do not know this and I hope they will not take it upon themselves to go nuts while the radiation beam, the techs, and myself take some well deserved time off. Maybe I'll trick them and replicate the 20 second high pitched sound I hear as the machine makes it's seven stops around my body each session! Ha! Gotcha!

Oddly, the moment I decided to give a listen and to try to make my fellow cancer pals crack a smile, I have found myself the only guy in the waiting room. It appears my sessions are the last ones of the day, so most folks have cleared out. There are plenty of women in the other waiting room, but the conversations sound fine without me. You go, girls!

But I have developed a pleasant and fun relationship with the techs that carefully adjust my body so that the laser beams line up just right with the guidance markings and tattoos on my body. We kid around a lot, but not too much. They work hard and are super diligent and I appreciate that a whole lot.

But enough of that..I want to talk about snow!

North Carolina is getting some snow right now (as is much of the mid-Atlantic states - I have seen some photos friends have posted on facebook). What beautiful stuff! Of course in Charlotte, which seemed maddeningly and perpetually on the wrong side of the fine line of either snow or just rain, the snow was not a season long battle to deal with, day in and day out. It was a unique break in the week that meant no school or work, and how lovely and special it was!

As a young adult, I discovered that my most favorite thing regarding snow was the sound it made: No sound at all. Total quiet, especially late at night. I loved going outside to just walk around listening to the crunch of it underneath my feet and then just stopping and listening. Nothing. Stillness. Peace. The world was smothered under a gorgeous white blanket with millions of shiny jewels reflecting the light. So gorgeous and so quiet.

I particularly loved looking up at the streetlights and the areas that they would cast their light upon - the trees, the roads, the bushes - all were now other worldly. And so quiet.

One of my very favorite Game Theory moments took place in the snow. I do not remember the year, but we were playing at the Blind Pig in Ann Arbor. It was at a point of the tour that I just couldn't deal with another slice of pizza for dinner (and actually, a little time by myself was needed too), so I left the club on foot and walked around the neighborhood until I found a little diner. Perfect! At that time I was somewhat of a vegetarian, so I had my usual diner fare of that tour; grilled cheese sandwich, french fries and a coke. (Hey - I just said I was a vegetarian, not a health food nut..) The dinner was fine and it was nice to be alone.

While I was eating it started to snow. Pretty heavily, strong enough to start building up on the streets and ground, and swirl around the streetlights. It was beautiful, and I took my time walking back to the club. As I turned the corner, I was absolutely shocked to see that a line, about half a block long, was waiting to get into the club to see Game Theory! Good heavens...I had never seen this before! I continued my walk on the other side of the street and people started to recognize me and call out my name! I was stunned. I stopped to savor the moment - it could be the only time in my career this would happen (it was), so I stood there and took it all in. The snow, the cold air, my warm belly filled with a grilled cheese sandwich, the crunching sound under my feet, the line of fans, the autographs, a fabulous club and a rocking band...and for that one moment it was all mine. I was at peace.

I would like to ask that those of you that are lucky enough to have snow on the ground tonight, to please steal away a moment for yourself to go outside and find a nice spot to stand in and just take it all in. And while you're at it, give it a listen for me. I'd like that. It's my favorite sound.

I wish you all love and peace this holiday season, and heartfelt thanks for being here.

Love,
Gil

There Are 8 Million Stories In The Naked City...

2009-11-26T13:05:00.000-08:00

...and in the radiation/oncology unit, I'm hearing all of them...

I've just completed my first three radiation sessions (only 30 more to go!), and it's already a grind. Driving back and forth to work, the hospital and home, anxiously monitoring traffic conditions on the computer, and well, driving. I cannot stand being late so of course I end up being early, but that's OK. I can leisurely run up to the cafe upstairs and grab a pretty decent sandwich to take back to work for lunch. From there, I check in and let myself into the locker room to change out of my clothes and into my hospital gown. Since my lower parts are getting basted, I have to remove pants and underwear. Shirts and socks and shoes are OK. It's a great look.

From there, I go into a small waiting room with 3 chairs opposite 3 more chairs. There is room enough for the chosen ones to walk through to either get to the locker room or the radiation room. When it's your time, the techs come and get you. It's an efficient system, with usually not much actual waiting..if one was not so compulsively early!

Part of being a reasonable and good person is to reach out and listen with a sympathetic ear to people that feel the need to tell you their story. Unfortunately, in this case, it is their cancer story. But in this club, you are also asked (and compelled) to tell your cancer story whether you feel like it or not.

My first story was from a kind and gentle man with colorectal cancer. It was his last session of his 6 weeks of radiation treatments. His surgery is coming later. He looked pretty good and had a nice, sweet smile. After he told me his story, I paused, not yet sure of the cancer club protocol, and after a few seconds he asked me what my particular problem was. I told him. It wasn't a natural progression of bonding, but there it was, and we did.

He was called for and went off for his treatment, and another man entered the waiting room. Disheveled and on crutches, he sat next to me and mentioned I must be new here because he had not seen me before. This was his last week of treatments, so I am definitely the new guy in the club.

After he told me the story of his crutches (a 40 year old motorcycle accident), he started telling me of his lung cancer. Since he didn't bother to close the back of his gown, I could plainly see a large radiation sunburn on his back, roughly where his bad lung was. It's actually only half a lung at this point, I learned. The other half was removed 2 and 1/2 years ago.

He then told me of how painful it is to swallow, but he has a numbing liquid, the viscosity of "shampoo", that helps somewhat as long as he pulverises each bite of food he takes.

At this point I started to freak out. Not on the outside - I was listening, commenting and really feeling empathy for this poor guy, but on the inside, deep within my soul I was was screaming; Nooooooooo!!!!

I don't want to hear these stories. I don't want to feel pressured to tell my story. This is my fucking cancer and I want to deal with it on my fucking terms. Leave me the hell alone!

Lung cancer man was then called for and I wished him well. Colorectal cancer guy came out of his session and a very humorless nurse presented him with a certificate of completion! Good Lord. I was wondering if you get a souvenir. The sweet man took it and gave me a quick glance and smile and then asked the nurse, "Does this mean I'm cured?"

I was a bit shocked when she matter of factly replied, "No. It just means you have completed he radiation treatment".

This is when I realized what my purpose is, here in the Cancer Ward. I reached up and touched the man on his shoulder and with a shit eating grin told him and the nurse, "Man...that's a loaded question!"

It worked. Both laughed.

He turned towards me and held out his hand and wished me luck. I returned his handshake with well wishes of my own, and I really meant it. I now understand. While I don't want to be in this club, I am. They don't want to be here, either. We are going through terrible shit, and like it or not we're going through it together. We are going through it for one reason and one reason only - we want to continue living. And what is living, true living, for other than to help one another through the hard times? Those times are here, and now I feel I have place in the cancer ward. Levity. It's not much, but I think it can certainly help my new friends.

So whoever I meet next, be it bladder cancer guy, thyroid cancer guy, or brain cancer guy - nice to meet you. I am prostate cancer guy.

Like I said, there are 8 million stories in this Naked City, and I'm hearing all of them. But with no pants or underwear on.

Inked!

2009-11-09T19:39:00.000-08:00

I have wanted a tattoo for most of my adult life, but to this day I just cannot think of what I want the tattoo to be of. I have a few ideas, but eventually I guess I will need to just take the concept to the tattoo artist and let him do his thing. The tattoo you are looking at is indeed a tattoo and it is mine, but this is not what I had in mind! It's a cancer tattoo and I now sport 3 of 'em! One on each hip and one on the front, about 5 inches below my belly button. The tattoo is the little black dot in the center of the drawn on lines. It's purpose is to insure they align and target the radiation accurately every session. Ink! Tribal!

Today, Stacey and I met with the oncologist/radiologist nurse for information about what I can expect during this part of the treatment. He was very nice, soft spoken and earnest, and I couldn't help but notice that was also really good looking. I was sure Stacey was thinking that too, but I just hope she was listening to what he was saying because my mind tends to....wander...when I have to listen to important stuff like this.

He mentioned the most common side effects: burning urination, diarrhea, unhappy skin and tiredness (and you thought we were done with pee/fart & poo talk!). Hopefully the tiredness will not rear it's ugly head well into the treatment. He also gave us pamphlets and support group info (unfortunately, thanks to one of the pamphlets, I learned that my cancer is considered Phase 3, with Phase 4 being the worst. Damn! Printed matter freaks me out!). He showed me the changing rooms and lockers that I will be using everyday, along with I.D protocol which as you can imagine is very important. Don't want someone else's radiation treatment for say...brain cancer!

He also talked about the scheduling, which I was concerned about. It would be best if I could get early mornings or late afternoons to help cut down on my travelling between work (Marin County) and the treatments (Oakland), but he showed me the daily list of radiation treatments this particular center gives and I was astounded. About 5 pages of a list of names in pretty small print. There are a lot of people getting these treatments.

After the orientation, I was off to get a cat scan of my pelvic region. This is to help them map out where they want the radiation to be administered to. I met the 2 techs (that I will definitely get to know over the course of 6 weeks!) and they explained a bit more about all of this.

There was a bag type thing that they positioned under my legs, once I was laying on the cat scan table. After they positioned me, they inflated the bag and it formed a mold of the backs of my legs. This is another method of achieving accuracy in targeting the beams of radiation. Every session it will be put under my legs to hold me in the correct position. Then, with the guidance of laser beams, they started to mark my body with markers. Once they were satisfied with that, they put a drop of ink on the 3 specific areas and poked it into my skin with a quick needle prick.

That was that. Got my tat. Oh yeah...this clinic also provides valet parking. I'm so....Dennis Rodman!

Next Friday I go in for a x-ray and weigh-in. The Monday after that, I begin the radiation. Talk to you then!

Next Stop - Radiology!

2009-11-03T19:30:00.000-08:00

Well now....I've been feeling absolutely great for the most part these last several weeks, but now it's time to go back to the hospital and start feeling crappy again... Nice!

Next week Phase 546 begins of my cancer treatment: Radiation Therapy! Can you tell how excited I am? Not. Whatever - time to blast those rogue (Palin-like) cancer cells that are still partying around my nether regions. I am so not looking forward to it. Maybe even more than the surgery. That was something finite - an event that would happen and then be over, with allowances for recovery, of course, but in the weeks leading up to it I just sort of accepted it, cussed at it, but didn't really dread it.

Not so with this, though. It just seems so... unrelenting. A radioactive blast everyday, Monday through Friday for about 6 weeks. The possibility of the return of very unattractive side effects. Cumulative wiped out-ness. And a whole bunch of unknown thrown in for good measure. More work hours to be reduced and more paperwork for benefits. More, more, more.

The hormone treatment hasn't been bad, though. The hot flashes are seldom and mild, but my emotional state has fallen to a pretty permanent state of crankiness. I'm a son of a bitch right now, but I guess that's to be expected. Grrrr.

But with all that being said, I will get this done. Not much choice in the matter if I don't want this particular disease to do me in. I will do it with Stacey's help. I will do it with support from my sibs. I will do it with love in my heart from all of my friends, close and distant. But most of all, I will do it because I Am Atomic Man.

So there.

Excuse Me????

2009-10-14T19:20:00.000-07:00

Well...this is a bit bizarre...Some doctor did some study of guys that had the same procedure as me, and discovered that robotic/laproscopic surgery to remove the prostate is more likely to result in erectile dysfunction and incontinence. Nice. I was told by the head of the urology department and my surgeon the opposite. I believe them. Not this guy. And I'm fine with my decision. Makes sense to me that high magnification and robotically controlled instruments would be much more effective in sparing those gosh darned nerves, then having your belly sliced open and putting your faith in the shaky hands of a hungover surgeon....just kidding.

Really...I'm good. But this is still bizarre.

naysayers of robotically assisted prostate surgery

(Hot) Flash Report!

2009-10-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

Ok - it's been over a week since my Lupron injection and about the only thing to report is general tiredness (at times pretty extreme) and headaches (not too bad). It has made me miss some work hours and the thought of adding radiation treatments to the mix is a bit depressing.

No signs of hot flashes yet, bigger boobs, or my inner girl busting out. I'm on the lookout, though!

I'm just tired.

Lack of male hormones can contribute to loss of muscle mass, so I'm taking calcium supplements and going through some reps with 10 lb. weights. If I get bigger boobs, they will at least be...firm!

Jesus! I think I don't like Led Zeppelin's "Physical Graffiti"!

A: Don't Pay Her.

2009-09-20T17:50:00.000-07:00

Q: How do you make a hormone?

Creepy. My hormone therapy starts this week and I'm feeling creeped out about it. It gets creepier, too. There's just something so unnatural about what my body is getting ready to go through. There could bizarre side effects (most common) and crazy out of this world bizarre side effects (not so common). As mentioned last time, most likely I'll lose even more sex drive and have hot flashes. The hormone therapy expert called me and explained the whole deal to me. She also warned me to not read the uncommon side effects in the literature she sent me. I peeked and wish I hadn't. Trust the experts!

Now, yet another Gil Ray Special Curveball has been thrown at me. While the hormone therapy drug (Lupron) is being used to suppress testosterone level, oddly, upon the initial injection, my body will want to flood itself with testosterone! Not good. So tomorrow I start taking another drug to reduce that event. Fortunately just a total of 6 tablets.

I just get the feeling I'm not going to feel like myself (for better or for worse) for about 6 months. Maybe it will not be so bad - I'm willing to accept tolerable! We'll see.

Weird. Strange. Uncanny.

And definitely creepy.

But I got to keep looking at big picture. If all goes well, I'll be able to look back at these coming 6 months and wonder what all the fuss was about. Ahhh...good times!

Glow Worm

2009-09-14T19:08:00.000-07:00

Ok - back to the grind! I almost forgot that I have cancer....

Today, my wife and I had our initial consultation with the Radiation Oncologist in Oakland. My surgery was over 2 months ago, and now it's time to deal with Phase 2 of the cure.

Unfortunately, my PSA's "undetectable" number of .1 will have nothing to do as far as the radiation treatment is concerned. The fact that my Gleason Grade got upgraded to a "7" after my surgery lab-work is the number that is driving the rest of my treatment. Not unexpected, but still a bummer.

I continue to be impressed with each new doctor I see - the oncologist methodically and deliberately recapped my whole prostate history. It's a great sign that my health care providers are all on the same page and I really feel they are doing their best in achieving good results for me. My super smart brother reinforces this, but there was a bit of a curve ball thrown in the mix today, that was briefly mentioned at some consultation, with some doctor, many months ago: hormone therapy!

Here's the deal - later this week I will get an injection of a drug that will suppress my testosterone levels. How dare they! Don't they know that at work I am known (at least by one crazed woman from El Salvador) as El Toro!

Actually, The Bull is humbled and now knows that testosterone can promote prostate cells to grow which in The Bull's case is something to be avoided while they blast away at my prostate...area...with beams of radiation.

The common side effects of this drug are two things: Reduction of sexual libido (at this point I almost burst out laughing), and possible hot flashes similar to what women go through during menopause (at that point, Stacey almost burst out laughing). Fine. Whatever.

2 months after this injection, I will start the radiation therapy. The scary thing is that we know way too many people going through stuff like this, so I was not surprised to learn that my radiation will be roughly one 15 minute session a day (Monday - Friday) for about 6 weeks. 34 sessions. Fuck. But El Toro can handle this. I also learned that my 30 year quest for getting a tattoo will soon be over! While not a very exciting or colorful tat, I will have 4 dots tattooed on various parts of my abdomen to help guide the targeting of the radiation. Cool. Ironic, but cool.

The main side effects of the radiation could be even more bladder/catheter fun, possible rectal bleeding and diarrhea. Since I seem to possess the world's tightest bladder sphincter, retention could very well be in the cards, but again, I am El Toro.

During all of this there could be one or two more injections of the hormone suppressant, with a final dose at the end of the radiation. If all goes as planned, I'll be done in 6 months.

Now I have 3 doctors telling me that even with the creepily consistent...curve balls that seem to keep coming my way, my prognosis is till very good. It's just getting there that sucks, but like I said, at this point, El Toro can deal.

Point One

2009-08-30T19:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had started composing my next post regarding the next stage of my cancer treatment. I've gone back to it today, and I'm finding I just don't really feel like putting a whole lot of effort into it. But this time, it's not frustration holding me back, or broken spirits preventing me from tackling this again. Far from it.

Finally, I got a number that I can live with. It's a very tiny number, too.

.1

That's not a typo, friends. That number means that my PSA level is dang near undetectable.

At this moment, I do not know how this will effect the radiation treatments that were scheduled to start around now. It's possible that I may need less. I will know more once I meet with the oncologist. But I do know that my surgeon is very excited about this number.

So - I'm gonna ride this for a while. I just don't feel like writing about some potential bladder problems I'm experiencing at the moment. I'm going to look at the big picture for a while, and learn to love the very small number that I have earned.

.1

I'm not out of the woods yet, but the woods just got thinned out.

Born Under A Really Bad Sign

2009-08-12T15:34:00.000-07:00

Probably my first favorite drummer on the whole planet was Ginger Baker of Cream. His fiery red hair, demonic looks, but most importantly, his playing sent me reeling into the world of serious rock drumming. Of course the guy from The Safaris that played Wipe Out, and Dave Clark's fab sounding snare drum caught my ear first, it wasn't until later in the 60's and the advent of psychedelic music that I learned to get deeper inside the music and knew for sure that I wanted to really be a rock drummer.

Ginger was a force. I was infatuated with his double-kick drum set (so much so, I persuaded my mom to order me a second bass drum from Charlotte's Howren Music!), but most importantly, his playing was (actually, still is) so strong, perfectly combining rock chops with jazz, R&B and elements of World Music - specifically African drumming. He really understood and brought forth the herky-jerky world of syncopation. While a reviewer from Rolling Stone (I think!), derided this performance, I think his fab display of syncopation on Creams's version of Born Under A Bad Sign is a thing of beauty. Such a strange beat! I have trouble even trying to understand what the hell he's doing, but it tickles my ears.

In the new issue of Rolling Stone (probably the first one I've bought in about 20 years!), there is a fascinating, yet ultimately disturbing look into Ginger's current
life. What demons! According to the article, he has been chased out of just about every place and country in the world he has lived in. He now lives a bitter and solitary life with a young South African woman (whom he seems to treat like shit), some dogs and his beloved polo horses...OK, bonus points for being an animal lover..

He appears to be addicted to a morphine inhaler, pain pills, anti-depressants and still puts away 3 packs of smokes a day. The townspeople all hate him - he carries a stun gun for protection - and he seems to believe that assassins are after him. Unfortunately, he has had dogs poisoned and horses maimed. He just does not sound like a very pleasant gent!

The weirdest thing that struck me is that even since The Graham Bond Organisation (around 1965), he and Jack Bruce still cannot get on in life and be in the same room together! Bruce approached the other members of Cream regarding another reunion tour that would have brought them millions of dollars, and Baker responded by shouting "There is no way!" and bitterly recounted how that last reunion ended terribly with he and Jack going at it regarding stage volume. They have been doing this for over 40 years! They have hated each other for about 43 years!

Whatever, it's a shame. But it's also sad. I hope Ginger Baker can find peace. It sucks when one of your heroes is a prick.

This Chapter Is Closed!

2009-07-31T11:23:00.000-07:00

It's been quite a journey so far. I think I'm going to close this chapter that ended with the operation. Fun things continue to pop up, mostly catheter removals and re-insertions (3!), and on going digestive problems. The catheter is gone! My continence is more or less intact, and erections remain to be seen or dealt with. But I survived. I may start this up again if there are any more unforeseen developments and I will definitely crank it up again once my radiation treatments start. It's my public service duty!

Mostly, the response I have received to this blog has been wonderful. It kept me going in many ways, and it was great therapy for me to write this stuff down. It really was a crazy road I went on and if anyone out there has to do the same at some point in their lives, I hope this will have been of some help. Realistically, I don't think I was the normal case. If I had a nickle for every time a doctor or a nurse said - "It's not uncommon for this to occur, but it's not the normal reaction", I'd be a rich man.Very rich.

I have learned so much in the last couple of months! Some good things and some unsettling things, but it's been quite an education.

A few people found the descriptions too detailed and graphic. Well...it is reality. Unfortunately, practically every issue that popped up was about the penis, bowels, rectum, gas, constipation, bloody urine, erections (and lack thereof) etc......,. But again, that's the reality of prostate surgery. It ain't pretty. Just be glad I didn't write about the day I woke up with a horrifically swollen and disgustingly discolored penis! This phenomenon occurred on a weekend so I had to describe all of this to an advice nurse - "My...that is interesting. I'll call the urologist that's on-call and call you back."
She did, and by luck of the draw it happened to be my urologist! His reply was - "Tell Mr. Ray that this is completely normal, and to not be surprised if it moves down to the scrotum, and that there is no need to take any Valium!". This was special in many ways. I guess it is well known throughout my whole medical organization that I'm a very stressful patient and need to take Valium "as needed". Great. It also would have been nice to have gotten a...heads-up....on the brutalized pecker syndrome. Oops, another graphic story has leaked out!

I have learned that I must be a terrible patient! I swore I was going to be a good one, but failed miserably. My pain tolerance is way lower than I thought it was going to be. I hurt like a mofo! Not from the incisions (I actually only took one Darvocette once we got home), but the stomach cramping, the gas, the constipation and the freaked out bladder were mighty painful. I literally chewed on towels in the bathroom and broke down in tears many times. Then my hyper-stress would kick in and I was a goner. This resulted in many e-mails and calls to my doctor and/or advice nurses. I know I have been through a lot, but while not uncommon, I don't think this was the norm. Stacey hesitated in telling me this, but during our first meeting with the surgeon, he asked me what I thought my pain tolerance was. I told him I thought it was pretty high. At that point, he made eye contact with Stacey and she was shaking her head (out of my line of vision), wordlessly telling him the opposite. She was dead on. Of course.

Nurses are truly a gift to mankind. Doctors get the spotlight and try to cure you, but it's the nurses that can actually help heal you. I love them all. They are empathetic and helpful. They are calming and nice. They all need a raise, which brings up one of the most stunning discoveries I made in the 2 days I spent in the hospital. Due to our current economic woes, there could be a whole lot fewer of them to help patients like me, in need of their comforting and helpful presence and skills.

I actually saw in real-time people's jobs get axed. A young woman made an appointment with Stacey and I to train us on catheter care at home. A few hours after we made the appointment, she called and told us that her job had been eliminated! Not to worry, though - the nurses were more than qualified to teach us, (which they were). Yikes! Several nurses were a bit edgy, wondering if they would be subject to lay-offs that were happening at other hospitals. We saw a room (many times during the 24 hour fart-march) of abandoned equipment with the words "Does Not Work" scrawled on them. Bottom line - less people working means less people with medical insurance. Less people with medical insurance = less people going to doctors and medical centers for treatment and care. I am not smart enough to have any sort of answers for this, but something is very wrong here. These are folks that can cure, heal, take care and comfort us, and now there are fewer of them. It's very basic. Something has to change.

But the most important thing I have learned through all of this, is that love and support are the things that really heal you. I have been blessed with the most wonderful wife in the universe. If it wasn't for Stacey I would probably still be in the hospital trying to pass that damned gas. She has been there every step of the way, from changing my catheter bag to listening to me fall apart. She "talked" our cat into a state of unprecedented good behavior. She missed a lot of work, and always got me to the doctor's office, the hospital and even the Emergency Room on time. She never complained about by foul moods and anxiety. But the thing that really blows me away is this: She's still here.

My brother and sister had my back on all of this, from getting free second opinions from one of the foremost medical centers in the world, to actually checking out the robot that sliced and diced me. They stayed positive, they listened and they encouraged. One of the most important things they did was to convince me to not feel guilty about putting Stacey through all of this by simply stating: "That's what people in a good marriage do."

I am still overwhelmed about the love and good thoughts I got from friends, close and distant. The generosity that has been sent my way has been unbelievable. I feel like I'm the luckiest man in the world. My heart has been enriched, and ultimately that is the thing that will heal me.

Love. Plain and simple.

I am humbled. We will kick this cancer's ass.

I'm Walkin'

2009-07-24T11:57:00.000-07:00

Stacey says the first thing that I said after waking up from the surgery was "Alright! I didn't die on the table!" I then told my nurses that I loved them.

I am real hazy as to what was happening after that. Stacey told me that the surgeon told her that it went well, lymph nodes looked clean, I lost very little blood, but unfortunately he couldn't spare one side of the "boner" nerves - apparently there was a soft, sticky part of the gland that they were attached to. With that, my chances of getting an erection has now been reduced from about 60% (the surgeon's record) to about 20%. Ok, fine. I've said it all along - preserving the boner was not my priority, but I wasn't happy that the numbers have now changed.

I remember moving my legs to make sure that I now didn't have "Accidental Clown Leg" and they moved just fine! I don't think I mentioned this earlier, but I had to sign off on a second procedure the surgeon wanted to perform. It's called a lymph node dissection, and what happens is that after the prostate is removed, he wanted to take 10 sample lymph nodes from both sides of my groin area. He would dissect them, get a pathology report and if no cancer was present in these (the most likely ones to initially go bad), we could pretty much rest assured that the cancer has not gotten into my lymphatic system (which we don't want at all!)

But there are risks.....The first risk is just the usual "You might need a lot of blood if I accidentally nick an artery" Ho-hum. But the second risk is much more interesting!
There would be a small chance that he could damage a nerve that CONTROLS THE INWARD MOVEMENT OF MY FREAKIN' LEG!!!!

Ok, let's reassess the risks - incontinence, erection dysfunction, bleeding profusely, and now leg movement....WTF! Ok doc, I'm gonna mull this one over. Which I did, and with the advice of my very smart brother (risk is really small) and further discussion with the surgeon (only one case in the 90 he has performed and that one healed itself within a year) I signed off on it. My buddie Murphy came up with the insanely funny name of this syndrome and I'm really glad I don't have it!

I was rolled into the Recovery Room which consisted of about 10 beds, most of which had those curtain-type things you can pull around for some privacy. In the center of the room were nurse stations. Fortunately, I had a private corner room which actually had a door on it. The door mostly stayed open, though.

Once in the room, I think they let me sleep for a little and attached automatic compression leg...warmers..on each calf. This is to prevent blood clots which are not a good thing to get. They would constrict off and on which was a weird feeling, but it didn't bother me at all. What bothered me was the 24 hour death march the nurses soon forced upon me.

During the surgery, I was on an incline with my head pointing down. It gave the surgeons the best access to my innards. They also pumped my abdomen full of air/gases. Most people have little problem releasing these gases by walking around a little.

Not me. So I had to walk. For about 24 hours. It sucked.

So there I was, soon after major surgery, pushing my IV and catheter around on a pole. I saw patients arrive and leave. I saw about 3 or 4 shifts of nurses come and go. I saw a man that had the same procedure as mine get up, power walk a lap or 2, then dress himself (including putting on his own damn shoes), and leave. There were no windows so I had no idea what time of day or night it was (though there were plenty of clocks, all in military time).

Nothing was leaving my body. My stomach was bloated and distended which hurt my incisions (6 in all - 3 small ones on my left side, 1 on my right along with a drainage tube, and the largest incision underneath my bellybutton.). The nurses administered pain medication when I asked, but unfortunately the good ones (narcotics) were constipating, which is something I really had to avoid due to extensive and delicate needlework holding my vital organs together. I also learned that there is no medicine that can ease the pain of gas. It was all up to me.

Obviously I had plenty of time to get to know some of he nurses. They were all awesome, and they did their best to help me through this. I found the ones that I could joke with, and through all of this we could find reasons to laugh. Of course most of this had to do with my inability to fart, but farts are always funny. My favorite line I heard was "I hope I'm not behind you, when you do pass the gas, Mr. Ray!" It was funny, but also pathetic in a way. I was on this endless and tiring mission to rid myself of this damned gas, walking in circles forever, feeling about 90 years old. God - all I need to do is fart.

Stacey was in and out. She took Jennifer back into San Francisco, then went by our condo to check on Dexter. It was much more pleasant to be on the "Fart Watch Walk" with her by my side.

But as time moved on, it started to get less and less funny. The pain was building, as was my abdomen, as was my stress level. Nothing was working. I received a call from the doctor and I told him that in the past (if I had gas that was a bit stubborn), I would just walk around, massage my belly, do a deep knee bend and let 'er rip. He was not too terribly impressed. I asked him if anything could be put up my rectum to help release the gasses that seemed to be knocking on the door, and he responded that at the moment, my rectal walls were too thin to do anything invasive, without potentially terrible after effects. Keep walking.

I soon received a visit from his assistant. He told me that the doctor had to move my bowels around a lot during the surgery due to some adhesion problems (?) and when bowels are moved around that much, they can get temporarily paralyzed. Sweet.

I found it ironic that I could deal with the pain of stainless steel surgical blades, slicing and dicing my insides, but I couldn't handle the pain of....air.

Keep walking.

I was so exhausted by this point I could barely move, but I trudged around, enviously eyeing patients that were blissfully sleeping. I would wonder what each one's problems were. Some were obvious like he poor man with 2 broken legs, or the lady with an eye bandage. Some were mysterious, like the man that was brought in lying down on his belly. But no one else was walking. Just me, and at times with Stacey by my side.

Suddenly there was a new nurse in our ward, and I told her of my problem. She was a no nonsense type that looked over my chart, and seemed a bit upset that some of the nurses had been giving me morphine. At that point, she just took over. Gave me a drug that let me sleep for a couple of hours. Another nurse brought in a roll away bed for Stacey and we both got some much needed rest.

After that, we continued our walk and finally....I gave birth to Fred the Wonder Fart! Once he appeared, more were to follow. Stacey and I cheered and high fived each other. The nurse that was now on duty congratulated me. I apologized to the sleeping patients, even though they all seemed to have slept through the event(s).

I'm free. Free at last.

I Might Have To Do What ?

2009-07-21T11:23:00.000-07:00

Ok - I've settled down a bit....

My doctor called me and we talked about why I required my catheter to be put back in. Turns out I have hyper-continence* ! This should not alter the positive outcome of my bladder control that we were all so happy about last Friday. He said that they used to leave catheters in a bit longer, and that I probably just wasn't healed up enough for its removal. He didn't mention why they now like to get them out sooner, but I will just assume it has something to do with the general state of affairs with our current health care system: "Get 'em in, get 'em out. You are healed!"

I am scheduled to get this one out on Thursday, but he told me that I will be trained on self-catheterization if this problem happens again! WTF!

Whatever. My ever shrinking little buddy has taken a lot of abuse as of late, so I'm not too worried about screwing this up if I do need to do it myself. I will assume I should do this sober.

* Stacey swears that at this point, my doctor is just making this stuff up to help settle me down!

Break Time

2009-07-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to step away from all of this for a while.

But I am going to finish this story in it's natural progression because I need to and want to. The response I've gotten from this blog has moved me very much and I want others to discover what it can be like in going through something like this, but for the moment it is consuming me, and frankly, I have had a series of setbacks that have been disheartening and are starting to wear me down.

I'm still pretty damn sure I'm going to have a positive outcome, but I think it's important that you see another side of me - one that just can't find a witty way in describing what's it's like to have to go to the emergency room (as I had to yesterday) to have my catheter put back in.

It seems that I am now ending up on the wrong side of the numbers that my doctors have telling me to expect. Before the surgery, my biopsy gave me a Gleason Grade of 3 + 3 = 6, which translated to an 84% chance that the cancer was contained in my prostate. The pathology report after the surgery upgraded those numbers to 3 + 4 = 7 which means that the cancer was not contained and cancer cells were discovered in my bladder and seminal vesicles. And while these are still the slow growing cancer cells, I will need to have some radiation treatment once my bladder and continence issues have healed and been sorted out. There was some good news though - the lymph nodes were all clean.

We had an idea that something like this was going on right after the surgery when the surgeon told us that there was a soft spot on one side of the prostate and that he could not spare all of the nerves that are responsible for erections. Again, my numbers before the surgery were that I had a 60% chance of erections, now that number is 20%. I am aware that I made a big deal that this would not be a big deal, but the cumulative effect was not a good feeling.

I also had to stay in the hospital for an extra day because I could not expel the gases in my abdomen that had been pumped into me for the procedure. While not uncommon, it is not the norm and required me to basically walk in a loop around the recovery ward for 24 hours directly following the surgery. That is not an easy thing to do.

On Friday, I was delighted when the doctor removed my catheter and discovered that my continence was intact. Phone calls were made, modest celebrations occurred, but by the next day, the pain in voiding my bladder was so intense, the whole thing shut down and I couldn't void at all. To the emergency room we went.

I feel my dignity has been stripped away - I'm fucking sick of dealing with bowels, stool softeners and tubes up my penis and everybody and their mother (including my wife) either looking at my naked body in this condition or dealing with tubes and bags hanging off of me.

I plan on not referring to any of this on facebook anymore. I'm shutting that hospital ward down. If anyone wants to follow me through this, I welcome them here at Po'buckra (damned appropriate name, by the way), and while the positive and wonderful thoughts that came my way there are greatly appreciated and helpful, I want to use that site for things other than a Gil has cancer site. I hope you all understand.

I will get through this. Stacey will get through this. We will all get through this. I love each and everyone of you, but I need some down time.

Love,
Gil

Danger! Danger! Will Robinson!

2009-07-15T15:41:00.000-07:00

When the alarm clock went off at 3:45am on the morning of my surgery, it didn't feel anything like Christmas morning!

Here it was: The Big Day. A surgeon, a team of anesthesiologists and a robot were going to try to heal me, and I woke up with a splitting headache. A very bad one, too. Great.

With my head pounding, I went into the bathroom and did the enema thing. I'll spare you too much detail in the visuals, but I will say that it did not help my head much (though my butt took it like a champ...). I then had to shower using antibacterial soap. We don't normally keep that stuff around, but we found some stinky hand soap in a pump bottle that would have to do.

The headache was buggin' the crap out of me. At this point I could not take anything for it, including water. I was getting pretty agitated. This is not starting off so well.

We piled into Stacey's car and headed out to Walnut Creek, which is about 25 minutes away in normal traffic. At 4:45 we were surprised that there was as much traffic as there was, but it was not a problem. We found the hospital, parked, and went to the surgery department. We found it strange that no one seemed to be anywhere at the hospital, but found where we needed to be, signed in and sat in the waiting room as Stacey rubbed my neck and shoulders.

Slowly, the hospital started to show signs of life. A person came to us and took us into a large room to prepare for the surgery. I took off all of my clothes, put on the hospital gown and laid down on a bed. A nurse approached and after confirming my name and what was being done to me, put barcoded wristbands on me. She then commenced to shaving my lower abdomen. I was wondering what and how much they were going to shave down there (mostly from the bellybutton down to the top of the pubes - I'm not a very hairy guy). I was a bit surprised she used an electric shaver, and I was very surprised that it tickled me to the point of laughing! Even through my awful headache!

After all of that, I became ground zero for anyone with a needle to stick into my arms. First, a male nurse came to draw blood. I've had a lot of blood drawn through all of this, and his hurt the worst. The dude just sort of slammed the needle into me and started draining my much in demand blood. Next, a very down-to-business nurse came to insert the IV. I've had plenty of those before, but this one really hurt. Stacey said the needle was shockingly large. That poor little port into my life systems was going to get a workout in the next couple of days.

From here on, my memories of what went down may be a little vague. I can't believe it was over a week ago!

The surgeon stopped by and was concerned about my headache. Maybe he thought I was stroking out or something, but no - I was just being me... I'm sure the combination of stress, fasting and dehydration were the evil bastards hurting my head so much. It was at this point Stacey confirmed what I had been saying ever since meeting the surgeon: He looks, speaks and has some of the same body movements as my ex-Game Theory bassist/madman - Gui !

I'm like, totally...doomed.

I was rolled into a hallway outside of the operating room. I believe it was here that I parted with Stacey (I don't remember if Jennifer was there). This was the moment I had been dreading and I was unsure as to how I would deal with it. I mean, it was possible that I would never see her again. I bucked up, shed some tears, kissed her, squeezed her hand and off I went.

I now realized my damned headache may have been a blessing in disguise. It was really hurting, but it also must have distracted me from the reality that I was now about to be put to sleep, and a surgeon and a robot were going to invade my insides and hopefully cure me of cancer without compromising my bladder control, ability to have boners, and perhaps most importantly of all - not giving me Accidental Clown Leg.

As I was rolled into the operating room, I requested to see the Da Vinci. I had seen pictures on the internet (there are also actual YouTube vids up of the machine in action, but I avoided those like the plague), but they really don't do it justice. It's larger than I thought and very sci-fi with spider-like movable arms. Good Lord! I also realized that the surgeon will be nowhere near me during the fancy part of the procedure. Once he pokes enough holes into me to get the instruments in me laproscopically, he will then return to the Da Vinci station and it is from there that he will hopefully use great skill and precision to chop this diseased crap out of me.

Before anything got underway, the surgeon stopped all of the action and talking and sharply announced: "Time out". This was another confirmation that the right guy was getting the right operation by the right people. We all confirmed, I was put to sleep, and the last thing I remember was an oxygen mask being put before my face.

Prep Schooled

2009-07-12T15:45:00.000-07:00

Ok, I think I'm ready to keep going on this sucker. There are plenty of thrills, chills and excitement up ahead!

Prepping for the surgery was sort of a 2 part process. Neither very pleasant to deal with, but deal with you must.

The first part of the prep was pretty creepy and a big fat reality check. I'm going to be different after the surgery. Some of the changes could possibly be permanent, but the odds are that these changes will just be temporary, but they will be there, waiting for me once this stuff has been done to me.

I'm grateful they gave me instructions on all of this. There are a lot of angles to consider. For instance: 10 days after the surgery, I will have my catheter removed. Even though I have been ferociously doing my Kegel exercises (3 sets of 30, holding each one for 3 seconds, per day), I will probably have very little or no bladder control.....yet.

What that means is that last Sunday, Stacey and I had to go shopping, and while drug stores are generally not a very fun place to shop at to begin with, it sucks extra hard when you're buying adult diapers and pads. But there they were! And there we were, rummaging through the different choices and figuring out the correct sizes etc...Good Lord!

I just had to keep taking deep breaths and quietly (at times not so quietly) repeat our "safeword" curse/mantra. We figured it all out, and now we were ready to move on to part 2 of the prep stage: Buying very cruel liquids and enemas that will blow out my bowels til they're clean as a whistle, Homer! This is actually a very important step - if the rectal wall accidently got punctured during the surgery, a cleaned out system could help prevent some very serious damage control.

Ok, off to the stomach aids aisle we went, merrily skipping along and humming sweet tunes. First off - Fleet Enema. No problem, been there, done that. Most men my age have probably dealt with these before if they've dutifully gone in for the sigmoidoscopy that all men should have at 50.

Next is what I affectionately call ass blowout juice. Excuse the graphic and juvenile choice of words, but that's what it does. It's called magnesium citrate and comes in 2 delicious flavors; lemon citrus and a fruity berry flavor. Lemon citrus it was, and if you ever hate someone enough to do this to, it really would make a good mixer for gin.

Shopping complete, we head on home and were delighted to find out that our friend Jennifer will indeed be able to accompany Stacey for the surgery! I eat my last solid foods for quite a while, have a couple of beers, take a valium and go to sleep.

At 10:00 AM the next morning, I drink the bottle of ass-blow. From here on I can have no more solid foods before the surgery. (I'm glad I went over the instructions because I had it in my mind that I was to do this at 10:00pm, which could have been disastrous!) I thought the effect woulda kicked in a bit sooner, but it really ran it's course over several hours. It certainly blows you out, but there's no real uncomfortable cramping. It just....blows it out your ass!

I drank lots of water, had some approved clear jello (why anyone considers this food in any form is beyond me), and some broth. It's strange not to eat for a day. I didn't like it.

The surgery was scheduled for Tuesday morning at 8:00 am, which meant that Stacey, Jennifer and I had to leave Albany around 4:45am so we could be admitted to the hospital at the required time of 5:20am!

Off to sleep we went, excited as little children on Xmas Eve!

Not.

I'm Off To See The Wizard!

2009-07-06T14:06:00.000-07:00

Holy cow...tomorrow's the big day! Excuse the haste in this post, but I want to get caught up with all of this.

The Test
I cannot believe that I left out the punch-line in my last post, regarding the psychological test my doctor gave me! Once the 9 question test was completed, he hit a few buttons, and the computer came up with my results:

"Moderately Depressed"

Boy, was I ever disappointed!

But I don't want get too harsh with this doctor, he was just doing his job the way he is supposed to do. I have learned a long time ago that psychological treatment is best handled by psychologists and psychiatrists.

The Surgeon - Stacey and I met the surgeon a couple of weeks ago and had a pretty intense hour-long meeting with him. He explained everything, and as I have quickly found out, doctors and surgeons like spending a lot of time explaining what can go wrong. I suppose they have to, and that's fine, but he was also very optimistic about my outcome due to these 3 things:
1. I'm healthy (except for the cancer, of course..).
2. I'm relatively young.
3. I'm "skinny" (which should come in handy for my bladder control getting back to normal - less weight pushing down on my newly remodeled bladder sphincter).

I made it clear that my priorities are this:
1. To live.
2. Bladder control.
3. The erection thing.

The nerves that control erections are on both sides of the prostate gland. If the gland is smooth and clean, his chances are much better to be able to spare those nerves. If there are cancer cells outside and on the gland, the nerves could be "stuck" to the gland making the job much more difficult. Another factor is this thing called margins. I think that means if the cancer cells are very close to the wall of the gland, there could be problems sparing those nerves.

He spent a lot of time on this, and I tried to tell him that the erection thing really isn't a huge priority with me, but he insisted, telling me that he's actually seen marriages end and men becoming very depressed if there's no more boners.

If those nerves go bye-bye, there are many options that can help get those erections back. The most unsettling one has got to be self injections directly into the penis! "It really doesn't hurt".

Stacey and were both impressed with this guy, and I feel like I'm in good hands. He knows his way around the Da Vinci, and he's younger than I am, which my brother says is a good thing - probably has more experience than someone my age with video games!

The Love
I have been overwhelmed with good wishes ever since I went public with this. Family, friends, musicians, acquaintances, not so friendly friends, people I haven't spoken to in 35 years, and complete strangers have taken the time and effort to wish me well. I cannot believe how fortunate I am to be loved by so many. I thank you all - it is really helping me get through something that I was programmed most of my life to believe would be the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to me.

Boy, was I wrong.

I love you all.

Gil

Sister Iodine and the Nine Step Plan

2009-07-04T12:09:00.000-07:00

The next test was the pelvic scan. At times I kinda glaze-over when the doctors are telling me about all this stuff, but I think this was to look for trouble in lymph node land. Whatever, they said I needed it so I went.

This time I was not in a very entertaining mood. The stress was really taking hold in my fragile little nervous system. Much of it had to do with work. I'm going to be out of commission for 6 weeks! Panic had set in with the powers that be, and I had to quickly write lots of procedures and train a bunch of people that really don't need the extra work load, on how to do my job (which I've done for 26 years!).

Anyway, this particular set of radiologists were all business. I was in no mood to joke around, and I could tell they weren't either. So lets just get it done.

"Mr. Ray - have you ever had an iodine injection?"
No

"Well, we need for you to sign this consent form".
Why?

"Because some people have a bad reaction to it, and it may make your heart stop - but don't worry...we will closely monitor you, and if there is a problem we can roll you right on up to the emergency room."

blink.
Where do I sign?

She told me that I would experience 2 things - first, I would feel a very warm sensation spread throughout my body (...ok), and then I would get a rather strong metallic taste in my mouth, but that would quickly dissipate. (...not so ok).

I laid down on the table and they inserted an IV into my arm (at this point my poor little arms were beginning to look like a junkie's arm) and they took a few scans of my pelvic region without the iodine. Then the tech released the iodine.

I've never injected recreational drugs into anywhere on my body, but I thought that this must be what it feels like. Immediately, a very pleasant warm rush spread throughout my entire body. It was very strange feeling. Seconds later, the metallic taste came into my mouth and all pleasant sensations were now quite gone. It was terrible - sorta like chewing on aluminum foil, but not quite. I have never had this sensation before. Fortunately, it disappeared after about 30 seconds.

They then scanned the region again. The purpose was to get a contrast of what they scanned before. It was over in about 5 minutes. I sat up. Took a deep breath, and went back to work. No drama this time, and no extra pictures were required.

The next day at work it all started to come down on me. I was a wreck. I could barely move a muscle. My body ached and my brain was feeling pretty fried. I just couldn't do much of anything. While I know I do not handle stress well, I wasn't sure if this was just another example of my body dealing with all of this, or if I was getting sick (lots of swine flu warnings at the hospital), or if I was having a bad reaction to the iodine.

I left work, went home and slept. I felt a little better that night, so I went to work the next day. Same thing happened. Something wasn't right.

I called radiology and asked if this was a normal reaction to having iodine injected into one's body and was told that is wasn't, most of it flushes out of the body pretty quickly (instructions were to drink tons of water afterwards - which I did) and if I felt like I was getting sick, I should call my primary care physician.

So I did, and was told I could come in later that afternoon. (I've mentioned this before, but with the economy and unemployment being what it is, I've discovered that fewer people seem to be going to doctors, so appointments are amazingly swift!).

A nurse came in to take my vitals and asked why I was there. I told her my symptoms and that I needed to find out if this was a real physical illness or if I was just having a meltdown. She told me that she was a cancer survivor, and informed me a little bit about her situation. She then said that it's a very normal emotional reaction to have breakdowns dealing with this stuff. Right at that moment I was overwhelmed with her insight and care, and started crying.

She knew. Now, I knew. This is going to be a really tough thing to go through.

I thanked her and she left. At that point I felt there was no longer a need for me to see the doctor, but I stayed. (Why not? I have way surpassed my insurance deductible - it's all free from here, baby!)

The doctor entered and I told him that I thought the nurse and I had figured out what was happening to me, but to please go ahead and check me out. I find it very disturbing that most doctor visits (esp. with primary care doctors) seem to mainly consist of the doctor typing and staring into a computer screen. Uh, hello? Could you please take your eyes off the computer and look my way and maybe even touch, tap, or feel something on my body?

I think I now understand my cat a whole lot better.

He does listen to my heart, taps a few things, but by now he is also getting the picture that my problem is more emotional than physical. I've been there and done that, but here was a new doctor. Glad to meet ya!

He really doesn't know much about my...colorful past with doctors and emotional problems - I was officially diagnosed with "agitated depression" nearly 15 years ago, so I couldn't get too mad at him when he decided to pull up on his computer a 9 question psychological test to give me.

I really thought I had been kidnapped by aliens at this point, but I remained calm and answered the questions as truthfully and as patiently as I could.

The questions were pretty standard ones:
In the last 2 weeks, have you had trouble concentrating at work-
a) not at all
b) some of the time
c) frequently
d) all of the time

It mostly went like like, pretty basic and obvious stuff, but the final question got me. Do you feel you've let your family and loved ones down?

That one hurt. I fell apart.

He handed me some tissues and informed me that he thought it might be a good idea to change up my anti-depressant meds to something with more anxiety reducing effects. I gently, but firmly told him that I trust my psychiatrist (who is outside of this health care organization), and that I thought messing with these drugs - this close to my surgery - may not be a good thing, but I would call her and ask.

The next day he e-mailed me and told me that I was right, we shouldn't change anything right now and to take Valium as needed. Good. And I do!

Through A Scanner Darkly

2009-07-01T20:30:00.000-07:00

Once the biopsy confirmed the you-know-what, more tests were ordered. The first one was a bone scan. God - just the name gives me the willies. Apparently, if the prostate cancer is gonna spread, it will more than likely go to the bones or the lymph nodes. The thought of cancer being in one's bones is just down-right upsetting to me. Bones! I had a workmate die of prostate cancer cause it got into his...bones. Don't wanna go there at all. Please, Lord - don't let it be in my bones.

It was a 2 step procedure, and fortunately my workplace is just a 15 minute drive to the hospital. That's positive, right? (I keep hearing that keeping a positive attitude with health problems is a good thing - it is required!)

I went to the hospital for step # 1, in which I get an injection of some sort of radioactive whatever in my arm. I don't know if it really is radioactive, but I'm sure this is stuff you don't want to leave under the sink with an easy-open lid on if you got kids or pets. I was extra lucky because an intern was going to be the one administering the poison into my veins!

He was nervous, so I felt the need to help make this guy relax so I went into my washed-up-entertainer-from-the-Catskills mode. The jokes were on, and so was I!

I could hear him and his mentor doctor rummaging around in another room for the correct toxic juice and needles to slam into me. The doctor corrected him verbally a couple of times, so as I was waiting and hearing all of this shit I started entertaining whoever was in the room with me. Before long I actually had a small audience and the jokes were going over well!

The intern came in with the syringe and started to prep my arm for the injection. A couple of false starts - fine - we all gotta start somewhere. I kept running my mouth and at one point I asked the intern if he was OK with me doing my bit. He liked it. Then I thought I'd better ask his doctor-mentor if I should shut-up, and he was fine with the show, so I continued.

But then I felt cold liquid splash onto my arm before the needle went in. At that point I looked and noticed that the poor intern had all sorts of...stains on his lab coat. I settled down, so did he, and the magic medicine entered my vein.

I left and went back to work. In 3 hours I was to come back for the scan. No problem.

The intern was still there, so he had me go to the restroom and make sure my bladder was empty. Fine. He then had me lay down on a table and he and another tech started to set all of the computers, scanners, and whatever. Unfortunately the intern couldn't quite get the table working right. It was supposed to slowly move through the..circular thing as it scanned my bones.

Finally the intern fixed it, and off to scanning I went. It took about 20 minutes for my whole body to go through. Knowing the importance of positive thinking
I imagined a beautiful picture of my fresh and clean and wonderful skeletal system from head to toe. I relaxed my breathing and felt very new-age and beautiful. Not a hot-spot to be found in these bones!

When the scan was done, I stayed on the table as they had a doctor go over the images. Against my better judgement, I looked over at a computer monitor and there it was: My Skeleton! Holy shit! Looks just like a skeleton! Not wanting to look too closely, I turned my head back and waited.

The intern and tech came back in and said "The Doctor would like a couple of different angles of your head and neck."

Ok...no need to panic. Stay calm. Shit.

This time, the scan was just a couple of minutes long. I tried my best to not imagine those dreaded hot spots in my bones, but I don't think I was too successful. All bets are off at this point. Breathe, Gil, breathe.

They then disappeared for another 5 minutes. That's a long 5 minutes if you ask me.

"Mr. Ray - The doctor would like for you to go to X-Ray for a couple of pictures of your head and neck area."

OK. I'm done. It's in my head and neck area. No positive thoughts were within 20 miles from me. Don Rickles has left the building. I was an old, brittle, beaten cancer patient. How do I get the hell out of here?

Somehow I was able to stand still as the 20 year old tech X-Rayed me. I had nothing to say. I left the building and walked to my car. I'm fucked.

Remember the waiting game that doctors put patients through? Well, 4 days later I finally get an e-mail from my doctor: "Your bone scan is fine Mr. Ray. You just have some degenerative arthritis in your neck."

That night I raised a glass (or 4) to arthritis. Probably the only person in the world to do that.

Viva Arthritis.

I think my stress level probably compressed my poor little cancer ridden prostate into a diamond that week. I'm going to be rich!

The Weight Of The Wait

2009-06-28T18:54:00.000-07:00

I was an OK student in school. Mostly B's and C's and a few A's. It felt good when I got the occasional A. It was usually in courses that I actually liked, like political science and art. I was terrible in math, biology and Spanish. I may have gotten a couple of D's in those, but overall I was an average student, I guess.

I had to wait about 5 days for my biopsy report. I've heard that with cancer, you really must get a handle on the waiting part. Tests, appointments, scans, drawn blood, more lab work..you get the picture. As the days went by, I got more anxious of course, but I soon realized that if my particular health group has good news to give, they don't mind sending it in an e-mail. If it's bad news, the doctor will call you at home. Seems right to me, but as each day passed without an e-mail, I was really starting to tweak out a bit. Valium helped to a degree, but by the fifth day not much could settle me down.

As I mentioned earlier, my first name is George, and that is how my doctors know me. But the message on my answering machine is for Gil. I found out later that this was the cause for some of the delay - the doctor thought he was getting a wrong number! After this happened yet again, I wised-up, (remember, I was only an average student), and changed my message to "George, also known as Gil") A real AKA for little ol' me! Word.

The call finally came early one evening, and I could tell it wasn't gonna be good news - I even sort of expected it, but I was not prepared to deal with my final test score, and I scored big, baby! 100%. Of the 12 samples they took, all 12 had cancer in them. I made an A+.

Damn!

I scribbled a few notes on a piece of paper as the Doc was telling me this, and of the different options available in dealing with it. They aren't very good notes, and my mind was vaguely somewhere else at that point. It was like I was watching a movie and suddenly a continuous low bass note was playing in the background. Message heard, loud and clear, Doc...but let's continue this conversation any other time except for right now.

So there I was, at home alone with Dexter. Stacey was just about leaving her work and was car-pooling, so I thought there was no need to call her - she'd be home soon enough. I sat on the couch and cried. I suppose just about everyone who hears this sort of news does the same thing, so I just let it come out. Suddenly I noticed Dexter was at my side, not attacking my head or being bad in any way. He was just sitting with me. He knew, too. Good cat!

OK...this is getting too sad, and I've flayed enough of my inner soul than I'm comfortable with. I'll wrap this section up just by saying that I'm the luckiest man on this planet to have the most amazing support from a perfect wife, family, friends and cat (somewhat...we'll see...). When I get weepy, feeling upset that I'm putting these people through this, these people love me enough to smack me upside the head and tell me - "this is what we're here for!". I think I'm finally getting it.

Damn!...The surgery date (July 7) is time-warping it's way towards me and there's so much...funny shit I've got to write about...I hope I can cover it all, and I'll certainly try before the surgery. For instance:

1. Hilarious hi-jinks of an intern injecting me with some kind of radioactive shit!
2. Bone scan...ambiguity!
3. Late pelvic scan results = an insane questionnaire from my primary care physician!
4. Becoming a member of "The Cancer Cult"!
5. My CD - I Am Atomic Man! was disturbingly prophetic. A robot will help cure me!
6. Potential "Accidental Clown-Leg"!
7. And most unsettling of all: MY SURGEON LOOKS LIKE GUI FROM GAME THEORY!!!!

Great.

Emotional Wreckskew

2009-06-27T13:04:00.000-07:00

The day of the biopsy was probably the first inkling of how I discovered how I would be dealing with all of this. I have a very...delicate yet volatile emotional constitution to begin with and I was wondering how all of the stress and depression would manifest itself. That day I had two responses.

I'm a big believer in bringing levity to grave situations. It's how I deal with stuff. If I can lighten the air just a bit, it really helps me to relax. I discovered this 20 years ago when I suffered a lacerated cornea due to a random street mugging.

Once the ambulance delivered me to SF General, I noticed that the excitement level by the doctors that were attending to me was pretty darn high. Specialists were brought in and it just seemed that the whole hospital was looking at my eyeball with grim determination. It was unsettling!

It got to a point where I just couldn't handle all those furrowed brows. So I said "Stop for a second!". They stopped. I said - "Am I going to die from this?"
They answered "No". I then asked "Is my other eye OK?" They said "Yes". Then I asked them to please lighten up just a tad - they were freaking me out. I know they were just doing their jobs, but the moment I saw a few of those brows loosen up just a hair, I felt more comfortable.

Well, during the prostate biopsy, I have mentioned that I was joking around with the hot babe nurse. She was a good audience, and to some degree, so was the doctor. While I can't think of many things that are as serious as a biopsy looking for cancer in one's body parts, it can just get to be too much!

Once the work was done, the nurse took me back into the waiting room where Stacey was. As I walked towards my wife, the nurse said "He did great! I've been doing this for 5 years and I have never had a better patient for this procedure than Mr. Ray!"

And then something very strange happened - tears filled my eyes. For reasons I'm not completely sure of yet, I thought that was the absolute sweetest and most touching thing in the world for that nurse to say. Maybe it's as simple as me wanting my caretakers to really...care about me. I just don't know.

The second set of tears came about 10 minutes later as we were in the car driving home. I looked at Stacey and told her that this felt like the journey has now officially begun. I didn't need the biopsy results. I knew I had cancer and I was overcome with sorrow that I would be putting my loved ones through all of this. And this is something a little bit of levity cannot lighten up.

Until I found a safe-word!

It didn't take long for me to come up with some sort of ridiculous way to express how fucked up all of this is. When it gets rough for me, most of the time some pressure can be relieved by me shouting out a very specific set of curse words! No need to share them here, but they are indeed some very bad words...

And they make us smile.

Ahh....Maui....

2009-06-20T17:22:00.000-07:00

God, I wish the biopsy was as dramatic as Alien's mouth ripping through my rectal wall, tearing out chunks of my poor prostate as Howlin' Wolf belted out Back Door Man into my ears...but it wasn't like that at all. Really.

After my second PSA test result came back high, my doctor told me I would now be seeing an Urologist. As it turned out, he is actually the head of the department of this medical group's Northern California district. Hmmm..my eyebrow raised a bit wondering if there was any particular reason why I would be referred to the department head but ultimately decided it certainly couldn't hurt!

A few days later I got a phone call from the Urologist telling me that the numbers (here we go again..) tell him that I need to get a biopsy. At that point I think my brain took me on a nice little visual vacation to Maui, and I remained calm, even when he told me the procedure would be relatively quick, a bit..uncomfortable (I've discovered that doctors use that description often), and that it involves needles in the rectum.

Come again, doc?

Fortunately, I already had a pretty good idea as to what I would be going through because a co-worker went through all of this about 4 years ago. But it does involve two things that can make men mighty uncomfortable: penetration up the butt, and the added excitement of introducing needles into the mix!

I know a lot of men that just absolutely cannot even talk about a simple prostate exam. The thought of a doctor's finger going in there can make a lot of guys very uptight, and in some cases, even...angry. Maybe it's because I've had a lot of exams of this nature, but it just doesn't bother me one bit. I've had women doctors do this, and of course men doctors. I guess the embarrassment factor ramps up a teeny bit with a woman doctor, but it's really no big deal.

Maybe it's as simple as the fact that I'm an artist, a rock musician, and I absolutely adored David Bowie and Alice Cooper! I'm culturally hip (in a 70's way!), and penetration down there should be not only tolerated, but..celebrated! Yes! Super sensitive progressive bi-sexual acceptance! I'm down with that!

;-)

That sounds full of shit, and by no means am I relating medical procedures in the butt to an act of sexuality (though I've seen pictures...), but honestly, the men I've seen turn the whitest with just a mention of a prostate exam are generally not involved in the arts in any way. Such philistines!

And then there's the thought of needles. Needles can make any type of person wig out, but I'm fine with those, too. (while I like a few of the Velvet Underground's songs, I don't think there's a cultural discovery to make here...)

Of course I did no further research on the procedure, I just went and did it. Stacey came along for support, and while I don't remember me being too freaked out about it, I just wanted her to be there once the deed was done.

The nurse lead me into the room and I immediately started to joke a bit with her. "Gosh! I'm so excited! I can't wait!" She said "Really?" I said "Just kidding." At that point the all important levity factor was in place, and as long as I can just bring a smile out of a lab worker, nurse (hot or not) or a doctor, I find that this puts me at ease and hopefully the folks doing the work at ease.

This is exactly what happened, as I laid on my side, butt exposed. Of course, as I have discovered over the years, there is a 90% chance that the doctor's aide or nurse will be female, young, pretty and hot. Never fails.

Digital exam - been there, done that. Bring it on, Doc. About 1 minute.

Ultrasound tube goes in - this is a camera not nearly as big as a sigmoidoscopy tube -we'll say 2 fingers wide. This is so the doctor can get an image of the prostate which is surprisingly not very far in. I believe this stayed in during the whole time. No big deal at all.

After he's checked out the image (which I could've seen had I wished, but since I am in fact me, I opted out of looking at the screen. I do this at any procedure that shows an image of my insides. I just don't want to see. If there's something abnormal, I'll freak out. If it's fine, I can then imagine what it would look like if it wasn't fine.

Next came the 4 (!) injections of a Novocaine - type medicine that is to help numb the areas that the biopsy will take place. (note: for those of you that do not know where the prostate gland is situated, it's on the outside of the rectal wall, surrounded by a lot of very important stuff that's extremely difficult to get to). He mentioned that it's just like getting Novocaine at the dentist. (uh...not really, doc!) He said I will mainly feel pressure, possibly feel that I need to pee (but not to worry - there's plenty of pads under me), and a little sting. And guess what? That is exactly what it was like. I told him at that point he was good. He responded by agreeing, and that he's done hundreds of these. Suddenly I was at ease with this doctor and we actually carried on a conversation during the scariest part, the biopsy itself.

I purposely avoided seeing what the biopsy instrument looked like, and frankly, I still don't know, so nothing to report here. During the procedure, I didn't notice any sensation of anything else being in me aside from the ultrasound tube. Using the image on the monitor, he took 12 samples, by needles, from 12 specific locations on the gland. This is called mapping. Each...sample felt like a bit of pressure, a small sting, and a click that sounded a bit like of a small staple gun. It went rather quickly, but after the 3rd one I said "Only 9 more to go, Doc?" He responded with "Are you counting?" "You bet, Doc" At that point he started to talk about the sound quality of vinyl vs Cds, and before I knew it he said "Ok, last one." He's good, alright. Really good.

I then was told to sit up slowly, some men feel faint after the procedure (wimps). I sat up feeling fine and took a deep breath of air and exhaled slowly. He asked if I was ok, and I told him that I was just relaxing for the first time in about 2 weeks!

Total time on the table: 10 minutes. I've had way worse times just getting my teeth cleaned!

One of the weirder preparations for this procedure was to "arrive with a full bladder". WTF? Turns out that right after the biopsy, he had me pee into a cup to make sure I wasn't bleeding, though I should expect "some discoloration" over the next few days.

Another thing to expect following a prostate biopsy is probably the most mind-blowing thing so far...Now, this does make me squeamish and I find no need for details, but 12 puncture wounds in a prostate gland result in blood getting in the prostate gland.

I'll let your own imagination fill in the blanks as to how one goes about getting that blood out of the prostate gland.

Ah....I bet Maui is beautiful this time of year...

Hysterical, Historical, Hysteria!

2009-06-18T18:05:00.000-07:00

There are 2 things that I would like to discuss at this point. First, I have a colorful history of a psychotic fear of cancer. During the 80's and through much of the 90's, I must have spent thousands of dollars going to see multitudes of doctors over any type of abnormality I could find in or on my body. Why is there a lump on the right side and not one on the left? (I was a real stickler for physiological symmetry..) What is that sharp stinging pain in my side that never gets worse, but never goes away? Why am I peeing so much? Why have the glands in my neck felt swollen for a year and a half? Why am I running to the book store and pouring over medical books, desperately trying to diagnose what is wrong with me? (I REALLY think that is a terrible idea for people like me. If you can see a picture of it, you can now see a picture of it inside your own body...not good!)

This lead to some pretty unhappy moments that ran it's course through two marriages. It also, (fortunately), lead me to some very extensive psychotherapy with a great psychologist, and it also helped me find the best doctor on this planet for handling me. Both are women, (both retired now), but these people really stuck with me and were not afraid to bitch-slap me in my weakest and whiniest moments. Tough love was the prescription, and they were not afraid to dole it out.

I found out a lot about myself, and I don't think cancer itself is what I feared. I believe most of my agony was rooted in fear of separation, and stuff like that. This is stating it all very simply, but it's really about as far I want to go with it here.

But, man - all those doctors were bound to have given me some great quotes over the years!

"Mr. Ray - those are nice, rubbery testicles!"

"George.." (most of my doctors called me by my first name, I never thought that I would need to get on a nickname basis with them!)..."if you were having the symptoms of pancreatic cancer, there wouldn't be much we could do for you, anyway."

And my favorite: "George...I'm not God or anything, but I don't think you have cancer."

The second thing I'm a bit obsessed with is medical irony. Hate it. It can manifest itself in my thoughts on a daily basis. Weird...he was a vegetarian, who would have thought colon cancer would have done him in? He seems so energetic and funny, who would have thought he suffered from depression? He had such beautiful blue eyes, too bad he's missing most of the iris in his left one due to a street mugging!

And while I'm sure smoking and drinking may indeed contribute to prostate cancer (I assume - I also have a phobia about learning about things that are going wrong in my body!), I find it ironic that prostate cancer is the one I got.

But the ultimate irony (as pointed out by one of my sibs) is this: I have dreaded cancer all of my adult life and I have finally gotten it.

But it's one that ain't gonna kill me.

PSA Squared

2009-06-15T20:23:00.000-07:00

PSA - prostate-specific antigen
PSA - public service announcement

Here's how this whole predicament started for me. Unfortunately, all of this is about stuff that many people (including myself) find embarrassing and uncomfortable to talk about because it's about down there, but hell - I'm 52 years old and I should just get over it. Jesus! We're all adults here...

Anyway, once it was confirmed that I had prostate cancer, and after I told my wife and siblings, I told a few of my friends and workmates personally. I was surprised as to how hard that was to do. It's a heavy thing to lay on someone, but the concern and love I got back was very comforting. There are 2 Hispanic girls at work that speak very little English, but they are both hard workers (and extremely cute and tiny!), but we have never really hung out together - just worked. When I told them what was going on, they both started crying and hugged me tightly. Of course that got me crying, and one of them looked up into my face and said in broken English: "I love you, Gilberto". Stunned, I asked her if she still loved me, even when I get mad and kick warehouse carts across the aisle? She said: "I love you all of the time, Gilberto." That could be the most memorable and touching words I could have ever imagined. I love them, too. Stuff like that is already making this whole deal a hell of a lot easier to deal with.

But I digress from the Public Service Announcement part of this post...

On a couple of occasions, guy friends, around my age and after wishing me well, immediately wanted to know: "Jesus Christ! What are the symptoms? What should I be looking for?"

Well, in my case, look for....less.

About a year ago, I started to notice that....Hmmm...let's say...uh...that the factory was up and running...but for some reason...shipping..seems to be getting... less and less.....product...out of the shipping doors...

God, that is so lame...it's just medical stuff - lemme try again: Ummm - less..you know..stuff came out of my..you know what...when I...did that.

Screw it. Less semen.

There - I said it. Tougher than I thought. But I think you get the idea. It was a gradual drop-off, and I just figured that age was taking it's toll on me. After all, my jowls, my ears, my saggy monkey butt have all succumbed to gravity's pull. I'm just not the teenage stud that I used to be. (I should also note that over the past few months I have lost about 10 lbs. - my weight fluctuates all the time, and I thought that the ultra-stress of the last year probably contributed to it and it probably did. I have no idea if this is the result of prostate cancer).

After about 5 months of this, I told myself that I was about due for a physical anyway, I'll just let the doctor know what's going on. Next thing I knew, it was a year later and the problem was getting worse. No other symptoms at all. Just by chance, I got a letter from my medical group informing me that it was time for an annual blood test and physical, so I went and had my blood work done and made an appointment for a physical with my doctor.

I had the lab work done about a week before my physical was scheduled. In this area my medical group is very efficient - within 24 hours they e-mailed me the test results, but I was perplexed by the fact that there were not many..categories on the report. The usual suspects were there - cholesterol (controlled and fine), blood sugar levels (actually better since I cut back on my cola addiction) and a couple of things that I didn't know what they were. But there were 2 important omissions. I'm always worried about my liver due to my past history of extreme Tylenol intake, evil cholesterol drugs and the fact that I love my beer. Nada. There was also no obvious PSA numbers. Christ, what kind of lab is this? This is lame!

The next day, on a Saturday, I got call from my doctor. Weird! I couldn't get to the phone in time to pick-up, but he left a doozy of a message: "your PSA levels are in the gray area. They should be between 0 - 4, but yours is 6.2. False positives are pretty common, but I'd like you to get re-tested in about 4 weeks. We can talk about this at your physical later this week."

And that was that. Here we go.

The Predicament

2009-06-14T15:12:00.000-07:00

From Webster's New World Dictionary:
Predicament 1. a condition or situation, now specif. one that is difficult, unpleasant, embarrassing, or, sometimes, comical

For the past several weeks I have had a serious debate going on in my mind on whether or not I should write about this, but today my brain and my heart said in a very emphatic way - "Yes".

A little over 3 weeks ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, but I'm going to be fine, folks. I really am! But I will have surgery to remove the ol' boy (thanks for the memories pal, and all the damn trouble you've gotten me into!). My doctors, my wife, my family and most importantly, myself, all agree that I will have a good outcome. I believe us and amazingly, the math (!) adds up to a full recovery. (more about the math, later...)

This will not be a Gil Has Cancer Diary. To me, that just seems too creepy. But some of the stuff I've been through is just flat-out too good and too crazy to not write about! And who knows - maybe some helpful info will be provided to help guide some of my male readers about this predicament. Yep - we're getting older, boys!

I Just Wanted To Take Pretty Pictures!

2009-05-24T13:11:00.000-07:00

The last month or so has been a very stressful one for me (like the rest of my life isn't!), and I needed a way to divert my attention away from all of that. What I discovered is that I love taking photographs, especially landscape shots with my digital camera.

I usually have Saturdays all to myself, and for the past month or so I have been going to nearby nature sites with my eyes forever searching for nice colors, interesting textures and composition. Not only does it get my ass outside, it's nice to explore new pathways of creativity.

Yesterday I decided to go to Point Molate very near the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge to explore the sites that include old abandoned army housing, different views of the bay and even a very cool brick fort-like structure that Robert and I discovered many years ago.

Upon entering the area I started to notice signs warning of video surveillance and fenced off roads with do not enter signs posted, so I continued driving down the public road looking for a turnout or a place for the public to view the area. There were none! That was a real drag because some of these old buildings looked great, including an old dilapidated refinery pier with rusted out pipes (pictured above).

It is important to note that the hills not facing the water are all property of a gigantic Chevron oil refinery that resides unseen on the other side of the hills.

Before I shot the photo of the old pier, I walked up to it and carefully read the warnings. The gate to it was padlocked and the warnings mainly had to do with safety concerns. I had no intention of climbing over the gate but I did start snapping a few pictures from the outside. That's when I noticed that security guards were immediately driving towards me. The first one drove by slowly and I waved at him, he waved back and kept going. I got back in my car and drove a few more yards down the road stopping at another turnout to look at the water in hopes of something arty finding its way into my camera.

At this point, another security guard drives by and stops at the pier I was just at and gets out of his truck and starts inspecting the gate. Ok, now it's clear that I have caused much interest to the security folks and I thought the best plan to deal with this was to gingerly approach the man and ask if I'm causing any problems. I do this and sure enough, the guards are indeed there because some other guard way up on the hills behind me called them and had them check me out.

The security guard was actually very nice and told me of a few places that I can find access down to the water, but due to this huge refinery, all of this is a Homeland Security issue! I can't even point my camera behind me up at the hills!

Now, another security guard drives up, gets out of his truck and stands behind the friendly guard, looking much less friendly than my new friend. Our conversation ends with a nice handshake and well wishes (with the primary guard) and I leave.

I ended up near my home and explored a very cold, foggy and windy dog-walk park - Point Isabel. I got few nice photos.

Stupid old 9/11...

My Very Talented Nephew

2009-05-21T15:51:00.000-07:00

As some of you may have already known, on my 50th birthday, thanks to some wonderful family members and friends, my nephew built and gave me a fabulous 6 string acoustic guitar. It's a thing of beauty to play and to just look at.

Here is a link to a short, but pretty fascinating documentary regarding Wes Lambe's latest project. And after you have watched it, click on his "customers" link. Some pretty cool folks show up!
(Jeez! I'd better send in my testimonial soon, or his mom is gonna kill me!)

Put Your Right Hand In....

2009-05-07T18:16:00.000-07:00

My wife recently brought home the highly anticipated pop super group Tinted Windows CD. I've listened to it about 3 times and I'm sorry to say I'm just not finding much there, though the one stand out track for me is the one written solely by Taylor Hanson - Nothing To Me. Pretty great song!

But what really bothers the geeky fanboy in me is that there are 2 pictures of the band that clearly show Cheap Trick's extraordinary drummer Bun E. Carlos playing a left-handed drum set! Unless he has decided to do what few superhumans can do and just...switch over to a left-handed kit, power to him, but I'm thinking this was an art director's decision, and that bugs me. He is a right-handed player!

But who in the hell has a right to complain if one has ever been through the music video process, where everything is not reality based! I hate being such a geek at times!

The 4th Five of my Top 25

2009-04-19T11:46:00.000-07:00

The Big Shot Chronicles - Game Theory
Well, it's kind of a cheat to put a record on this list that I play on, but this is the record that truly changed my life. The circumstances behind the scenes were quite unusual, to say the least. It was recorded in the middle of a national tour at Mitch Easter's Drive-In Studio with a brand spanking new line-up in 1985. At the same time, I was going through some severe emotional stuff regarding my personal life which required me to fly back to the Bay Area immediately after I laid down my drum tracks. After one or two days of that supremely gut wrenching adventure, I flew back to Winston Salem. (there was a very cool little field trip upon my return that involved some of us driving to Durham with Faye and Angie to see the dB's!). I think the album was all completed (including mixing?) in about a week, and then we were off again to finish the tour! But the results were sweet - Mitch put us all at ease, gently coaxed great performances out of us and I think this is Scott Miller's greatest and most concise pop album.

End Of The Day - The Reivers
Pure and unadulterated comfort-pop for me, featuring twanging guitars, evocative, slightly melancholic lyrics (Star Telegram) and the soaring vocals of one of my favorite singers of all time - Kim Longacre. She absolutely tears up Lazy Afternoon, and John Croslin rips a great guitar solo to match her performance. Austin Texas had a lot going on around this time and I found myself taken by another mixed sex band - Glass Eye (for some reason I seem to favor that particular type of line-up, dunno why really, but I guess I just prefer a bit of estrogen to balance out the usual rock and roll testosterone!) But it's all about Ms. Longacre here, and it's her vocal prowess, (along with Croslin's writing) that can bring tears to my eyes.

About Us - The Stories
Though recorded in 1972, it wasn't until around 1989 that I discovered this amazing band, thanks to Michael Quercio who either mentioned them or played some tracks during a van ride in the short lived but very fun Miller, Quercio, Becker and Ray version of Game Theory. Of course I had heard the mega-hit Brother Louie a million times on the radio back in the day, but that song has very little to do with what The Stories are really about. For starters, Michael Brown's writing is rich and rewarding (I'm hard pressed to name a more beautiful pop song than The Left Banke's Pretty Ballerina !), and he continues writing gems in this band. Love Is In Motion is wonderful with a very pretty, and unique melody. The boys can rock hard when called upon, with strength and obvious talent. The arrangements are powerful and at times tricky (Darling and Hey France are real standouts).
While Ian Lloyd's voice my be an acquired taste for some, I think it fits perfectly in here and he can nail some difficult parts.

Nonesuch - XTC
I've loved XTC from the get go. When I was just starting to get into punk and new wave, their early LPs fit in comfortably with my prog-rock leanings with their quirky, fast and jagged rhythms. Over the years they have smoothed out much of that (though rhythmically they can can still get very adventurous) and have become possibly the finest pop band on their sweet earth. I say their sweet earth because they have such an earthy, organic root that conjures up olde - time England and pagan rites. But don't underestimate Andy's nasty snarl when he finds it appropriate to tongue lash a crooked politician, or a society that allows injustice. The Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead is clean and perfect pop, driven by the band's always slashing and driving guitar parts. Moulding's My Bird Performs is one of my wife's absolute fave pop tunes and it nicely balances out some of the hectic tendencies Partridge provides. Dear Madam Barnum is more spot-on pop from Andy, and well...I could go on (God! How about Dave Mattacks' drumming! This band has never had a bad drummer!), but Dexter is attacking the keyboard, but I will say that these guys make damn near perfect music.

Vortex - Christmas
This recording just seemed to have appeared at a record store one day, without me hearing a word about it. Frankly, I thought they had broken up by 1993, and I was already well on my way to being a big fan of Michael Cudahy's ultra-fantastic ultra- lounge core band Combustible Edison , but fortunately I was wrong! Christmas is a strange band that can get way out there with epic arrangements, but still have the smarts and the gifts to make drop-dead beautiful melodies fit in with their expansive style of writing along with their kick-ass live shows. I was lucky enough to witness one of their shows with my pal Robert at the Berkeley Square and was outright floored by Michael's frantic and huge stage presence. And holding it all together was Liz Cox, who not only impressed me with her navigation around some very tricky tunes, but her ability to sing, and sing well while playing! The cut to seek out here is Almighty. Featuring sublime twists and turns, and a perfect vocal by Ms. Cox, it reminds me of the pure pleasures to be had from just listening.

Danger: Mike Patton!

2009-04-12T19:03:00.000-07:00

One of my very favorite films is Italian director Mario Bava's 1968 cult classic Danger: Diabolik. One of my very favorite film soundtracks is Ennio Morricone's music for the same film. Imagine my surprise when I was alerted of this video by Tim Lucas of Video Watchdog magazine, featuring one of the main themes sung by no other than Mike Patton who I knew of primarily from Faith No More and Mr. Bungle - (whose LP's we cannot keep in stock at work)!

It's a stunning performance with full orchestra and chorus in Amsterdam. It is glorious and Mr. Patton can flat out sing (in two languages!). (Techni)color me impressed!

He is one suave shut yo mouth!

The 3rd Five Of My Top 25

2009-04-08T20:39:00.000-07:00

Lark's Tongues In Aspic - King Crimson
Ok, now we can definitely talk influential. If there was ever a drummer that would influence me throughout my drumming, from my teenage years on, Bill Bruford would be the guy. First heard him with Yes and fell in love with his smart drumming and cracking snare drum sound. This was his debut with King Crimson and his playing is awesome. At this stage, Crimson was primarily a players band, improvising their way through tricky and dark material conjuring up the devil. It's frightening how good they are and I think this LP shows them at their very best. So good it's spooky.

Bookends - Simon and Garfunkel
My big brother had this record when I was a kid, and that is how I first heard it. Gorgeous and evocative songs displaying beautiful vocals, masterful songwriting and amazingly haunting production (check out Save The Life Of My Child). America isn't too shabby, either. Matter of fact, it's one of my favorite songs ever! (of course, being the prog-head that I am, I have to admit I was really disappointed in Yes' version!) Oh yeah, it would be crazy if I didn't mention that Art Garfunkel's voice is the voice of an angel. Just lovely.

Juliet Of The Spirits - Nino Rota
This is the soundtrack to my favorite film of all time - Fellini's Juliet Of The Spirits. I took an understanding Foreign Film class in college and this is the one that spoke to me. The soundtrack does the same thing. Wistful, playful, full of fantasy (some good, some terrifying), this is a perfect marriage of music and film. Performed by a relatively small ensemble, the music is rich and unique. Fortunately, Rota and Fellini worked many times together, producing magical works that really touch my soul. This is the music I want to take with me.

Repercussion - dB's
It was a toss-up for me - Stands for deciBels or this one...I went with this one being in a serendipitous mood. Stamey and Holsapple are an amazing one-two punch. Stamey's Happenstance had to have influenced Scott Miller with it's tuneful and adventurous...sneering whine, and Ask For Jill is just downright scary with a top notch arrangement handled effortlessly by the band. This song could easily have been on West Side Story. On the "yang" side of things, Peter Holsapple's Neverland is just flat out fab pop with another heady arrangement the guys handle with ease. (Damn that Will Rigby...have you ever tried to learn one of his parts? I had to learn Tearjerkin' on the last Loud Family tour and it humbled me very thoroughly - Jeezus Christ!). Nothing Is Wrong is just plain gorgeous. Heartbreaking. One of the most beautiful songs I've ever had the pleasure to listen to. "I'm just thinking about you..". Quite a feat for an American indie band to debut with the equivalent of Rubber Soul and Revolver. Really.

A Legend In My Time - Don Gibson
Even though I grew up in the South, I didn't become a fan of country music until the mid 80's, while living in California. My workplace exposed me to all sorts of music and this North Carolina singer/songwriter caught my ear in a big way. Gibson was a hit machine responsible for Oh Lonesome Me (I fell out of my tree when I realized this was the same song Neil Young covered!), I Can't Stop Loving You, and Sweet Dreams. Chet Atkins produced most of these, and while he may have taken some of the grit out of them, the writing and Don's rich, deep voice shine through. I highly recommend this - it's on Bear Family and they set the standard for quality reissues.

Bill Me Later

2009-04-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

Probably the most influential drummer from my late teens until..well, forever, has been Bill Bruford. Primarily known for his stints with prog-gods Yes and King Crimson, his unique style of effortlessly handling the most difficult pieces with frightening precision and cutting edge sound and tonal innovation spoke directly to my drummer's heart.

And his snare drum sound is stuff legends are made of! Cranked tight, it produced a *crack!* that has sent many young drummers over the edge of sanity desperately trying to duplicate it. To me, it was my gorgeous major 7th chord applied to the drums. Just plain beautiful.

Bruford just released his autobiography and in the forward he states that he is officially retiring from public performance. Good for him! I like that he's going out on his own terms, and I really like that he's not retiring because he's dead!

So, here's to you, Bill Bruford. Thanks.

The 2nd Five of my Top 25

2009-03-28T18:54:00.001-07:00

The White Album - The Beatles
OK...I guess there's no "take backs" on lists such as these...but I chose it, so that's that. It has been in my adult head for many years that this is the Beatles album I would want on a desert island, but now, looking at the tracks, I guess there are about 5 other albums that could serve that purpose. Oh, well.... the sleeper here is the fantastic musical arrangement on Martha My Dear. Not sure if George Martin had a heavy hand in this, but it's brilliant

Ball - Iron Butterfly
I hate the phrase guilty pleasure. I love this album and play it all the time. It's strange and baroque and contains Soul Experience which is an all-time fave. It also contains Lonely Boy which is absolutely awful, but it's easy to skip. Is it better than Fragile by Yes? Hell No, but I play it more.

Songs For A Tailor - Jack Bruce
This is Jack at his very best. His writing has depth, adventure and musicality. His voice is at it's peak and it's one of the finest voices I've ever heard. The musicians he employs here are nothing to sneeze at either: Chris Spedding, Jon Hiseman, Felix Pappalardi and crazed sax-guy Dick Hecktall-Smith. George Harrison is listed as guitarist on the first cut - Never Tell Your Mother She's Out Of Tune, but for the life of me I cannot hear any guitar anywhere on this song! Stand out tracks are Theme From An Imaginary Western, Rope Ladder To The Moon and a very mash-up freaky cool song called Boston Ball Game.

The Ballad Of Todd Rundgren - Runt
This is an easy one for me. I think it's Todd's best album, combining deft musicianship and cracking good song writing. After this one, Todd started mixing brilliance with self-indulgence, which is ok as long as you still get the brilliance, but for me, this is pop perfection. Having the Sales Bros. on board doesn't hurt, either.

the Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars - David Bowie
An outright classic. I remember reading about this before I ever heard it, and the descriptions in the press were very intriguing. Once I heard it, I immediately fell in love with it, and Bowie. It was otherworldly and a bit frightening to me, but a top rate concept, just right for it's time. The songs rock (not a clunker on it), the band is fab and Bowie's voice is really...weird. Sounds like he's from Mars to me, and it all works perfectly. The whole gender-bending thing was fresh and exciting, but also strange and a bit creepy. A huge influence on me at the time, and I think it holds up just fine.

First 5 of My Top 25

2009-03-27T19:14:00.000-07:00

Recently on facebook I was asked to do this:

Think of 25 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, and emotions. These are the albums that no matter what they were thought of musically shaped your world. When you finish, tag 25 others, including me. Make sure you copy and paste this part so they know the drill.

***This is not about being cool. Which albums have you actually listened to thousands of times?***

A tough assignment for sure, and even tougher for an old guy like me that is also a musician. My brain keeps wanting to separate this into 2 groups - influential and favorite, so I decided to mix it together.

Being a drummer, there are a ton of albums that influenced me, but I left those off the list. It might be fun for me to share that list at some time but for now, here it is in a very rough order reflecting the chronological order that they came into my life with little regard to release date:

Rolling Stones - Between The Buttons
Jimi Hendrix Experience - Are You Experienced?
Blue Cheer - Outsideinside
Jethro Tull - This Was
Cream - Wheels Of Fire
Beatles - The White Album
Iron Butterfly - Ball
Jack Bruce - Songs For A Tailor
Runt - The Ballad Of Todd Rundgren
David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust
King Crimson - Lark's Tongues In Aspic
Simon And Garfunkel - Bookends
Nino Rota - Juliet Of The Spirits
dB's - Repurcussion
Don Gibson - A Legend In My Time
Game Theory - The Big Shot Chronicles
Reivers - End Of The Day
Stories - About Us
XTC - Nonesuch
Christmas - Vortex
Ennio Morricone - Canto Morricone The 70's
Flaming Lips - The Soft Bulletin
Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs
Judee Sill - Heart Food
John Vanderslice - Cellar Door

Whew! That was harder than I thought it was going to be! I'm sure it's pretty nebulous too - my list could probably be different on any given day. I guess that's a typical problem coming up with a list like this after living and breathing music for about 42 years of concentrated listening (which started when I was around 10 yrs. old).

Here are the first 5 with a few comments.

Between The Buttons - The Rolling Stones
I got this record as a kid and to this day I think it's my fave Stones LP. I was old enough to know that The Stones were indeed bad boys and I loved staring at the cover and being a bit freaked out at how tough they looked (and cold!). Musically, the U.S. version contained Lets Spend The Night Together and Ruby Tuesday which I already had as a 45 and liked very much. Even at that tender age, I was more enamored with those songs after seeing them performed on Ed Sullivan, with Mick rolling his eyes when he sang a cleaned up version of Spend The Night on the show! Connection is a very cool song and while being creeped out by doctors giving injections and the like, I really love the guitars and vocal harmonies. And being a bit of a cheat, I'm going with the U.K version to add that Back Street Girl (first heard on the LP Flowers) as an all-time favorite Stone's song, regardless of that one dang guitar string that's not quite in tune!

Are You Experienced?- The Jimi Hendrix Experience
I had been initiated into psychedelic music primarily by Cream's Disraeli Gears and The Vanilla Fudge's first album, but this one really knocked the psychedelic sound out of the ballpark. A strong LP from top to bottom featuring just out right blistering guitar and some of the best rock drumming ever recorded. Effects heavy production that in no way overshadows a very high energy band. This record also brought into my life the first racially integrated band I had ever owned a record of. Love the cover photo with all those 'fros, and again, these guys looked tough and mean!

Outsideinside - Blue Cheer
My dad bought me this album at a drug store a long time ago. This was back in the days when drug stores used to carry a rack or two of LP's. He told me to pick one out and I chose this one. I was somewhat familiar with the band due to their single of Summertime Blues that I heard on the radio. This record could be one of the heaviest and hardest rock albums ever recorded. A power trio pummeling the grooves with Marshall stacks and the biggest drum set I had ever seen! The artwork was intriguing with its druggie references and a strange gatefold type cover that opened up with a giant live shot of the band. Musically, a real powerhouse, mixing psychedelia and power chords with one of the strangest mixes I've ever heard. This was so different than what San Francisco bands were putting out at the time. Standout tracks for me are Just A Little Bit, Come And Get It and the sign-of-the-times tune titled Magnolia Caboose Babyfinger!

This Was - Jethro Tull
My best friend had a big brother that worked at a music distributor in Charlotte, and he had a drool-worthy record collection to my young eyes, and this one really caught my eye! Weird cover with the already strange looking band made to look even stranger dressed as old down-and-out homeless dudes with a bunch of mangy dogs! But it was the music that really grabbed my attention. Relatively straight-ahead British blues mixed with rock, jazz and folk performed masterfully. Ian Anderson hadn't put on his tights and codpiece quite yet, and he displays his skill as a very unique singer and flautist. The rhythm section of Glenn Cornick and fab drummer Clive Bunker handle everything thrown at them, but for me, it's guitarist Mick Abrahams that steals the show. Adept with any style (but preferring blues), he remains one of my very favorite guitar players. Check out the lead-off track - My Sunday Feeling !

Wheels Of Fire - Cream
This may have been my very first 2 LP set I ever owned. Cream was also my very favorite group and I couldn't wait for this one to finally show up in my mailbox after I had ordered it from the Record Club Of America. With mind-blowing artwork, side one featured new studio tracks, while side two contained live recordings. With the exception of their live version of Crossroads (some of Clapton's fiercest playing ever), I was immediately drawn into the studio stuff. White Room was a huge hit and I already had the 45, so it was the songs I had never heard that drew me in so enticingly. Specifically, it was Jack Bruce's songs that were now showing a remarkable depth and musicality (along with Felix Pappalardi's unique production) that sends me reeling. There are few iconic rock riffs as great as Politician, which is about as heavy as can be, but the stand-out cut for me is As You Said , which seemed kind of..eerie to me with strange chords, great vocals and a wonderful cello part that was something very new for me to hear on a rock record. It's hard to think of a much stranger song than Ginger Baker's odd but beautiful Pressed Rat And Warthog, and I've got to say (regardless of what Rolling Stone magazine thought), I love Cream's version of Born Under A Bad Sign ! The reviewer (whose name I have long since forgotten) hated the herky-jerky feel of Ginger Baker's uber-syncopated drumming, but not me! It's one of the most unique grooves I've ever heard and I still can't figure the damned thing out.

f***booked.

2009-03-24T20:44:00.000-07:00

Excuse the rant, but I recently signed on to facebook and it's freaking the hell out of me.

There are some good points for it - I have made some long lost connections that brighten my heart, and some of the ever-present list-tag thingies have made me think about stuff that interest me from different angles. It's also giving me some satisfaction in my hermit lifestyle, in being a tiny bit connected with friends that I just don't get around to actively making the effort to spend an evening with in the flesh.

That ain't enough. Especially for the younger generation.

I fear there is no going back - human relationships can now be crunched down to witty one-liners typed quickly and instantly disposed of. While it may make one feel that there is a connection (after all, some connection has got to be better than no connection), it's lulling us to sleep. Now, life seems to be not much more than just staring at an ever evolving and shrinking piece of technology that we buy and keep re-buying to have the most, in the smallest format possible.

Life's too short to avoid real human contact with people you like and love. I will probably stick with facebook for a while (my next post will deal with one of those list thingies) but I will do my best to change some bad habits. I think much more of my friends than what facebook can ever offer. I will make an effort.

3 "New" CDs!

2009-03-14T16:55:00.000-07:00

I asked Stacey to bring home 3 cds for me this week. She did, and here they are:

Neko Case - Middle Cyclone - the first listen was just sort of background music for me and I thought that it sounded nice enough, but nothing really new was coming down the pike. By the third listen I was hooked hard. I think it's a great album. Neko is progressing nicely with added depth in her writing and rich musical arrangements. As usual, her vocals are powerhouse and the harmony parts are quite nice.

Some stand out tracks for me are People Got A Lotta Nerve which seriously puts the jangle back into the jangle pop. There is an amazing ascending chord progression in there that first appears instrumentally, but next time around she adds glistening vocals. Sold!

Middle Cyclone is a beautiful and intimate song that features a messed up waltz with some 5/8 mixed into the 6/8. Or something like that (I'm much too lazy to really figure it out), but it swings in its own fractured way and is lovely.

Speaking of swinging, Magpie To The Morning has a loose and languid feel to it in a Walk On The Wild Side way. Angels sing at the end of this one.

Nilsson's Don't Forget Me is an inspired cover, and it also swings. The line - "when we're older and full of cancer it doesn't matter now - come on get happy" fits right in there in a very Neko kind of way.

There are 2 things that drive me nuts, though. First, old guys like me would appreciate an easy to read track listing, and track 15, which is over 30 minutes of cricket noises is annoying, unless you use it to gently drift off to sleep late at night (which I'll never do - Stacey and I already have our own little cricket noises on her clock radio and those chirpy bugs work just fine!)

Fleetwood Mac - Future Games - Been having a big Mac attack lately and I've discovered that I like just about any incarnation of this band. At the moment, it's all about Christine McVie. I read a blurb on AMG that stated that this album contains one of her most beautiful songs - Show Me A Smile. Man, they weren't kidding! The verses were making me crazy wondering where have I heard this progression before? Suddenly XTC popped into my mind. Not so suddenly their album Mummer snuck in there, so I grabbed it and discovered that the song is Andy Partridge's Jump. Pretty cool. Great pop minds...

I do like a few other songs, though the above cut sells the whole shindig for me. Bob Welch has a pleasant and laid back voice (and guitar playing style). His voice can possesses a somewhat fragile quality, reminding me of Elliott Smith, especially on his highlight worthy cut on the record - Future Games. Oddly, I think the chorus is pretty weak, but the verses work great. (weird..the same may hold true for Show Me A Smile...maybe..)

I don't know who wrote the only real rocker on here, but Lay It All Down features a great rock riff, but honestly, if I feel like rockin' I can now rock hard with:
Deep Purple - in Rock
This is right about the time when Deep Purple were starting to get kind of silly. Their first 2 LP's are pretty great 60's pop/blues/rock. The singles Hush and Kentucky Woman are 2 of my faves, but here they are starting to exhibit heavy metal traits that veer uncomfortably close to Uriah Heep and all things silly about hard rock. I love the Heep, but the vocal wailings from them and Deep Purple were starting to get more chuckles from me than the need for me to reach into my jeans and whip out my Bic and fire it up. But I digress...

Speed King, Flight Of The Rat and Into The Fire completely satisfy my need to rock. Ian Paice is an incredible drummer, and Ritchie Blackmore is a pretty unique guitar player. And you must have organ to rock out properly, and that's what Jon Lord does.

Milestoned...A New Wave Called..New Wave!

2009-03-08T20:06:00.000-07:00

Good God...now there's an argument for getting the hell out of Charlotte! Not a very articulate example of hipsterism in the Queen City, but it is a hoot. I love the male newscaster’s glasses (!) and the very unfortunate shot of the female reporter’s less than...comprehending... expression as she waits for a reply from Judy!

The above newscasts were Charlotte’s take on new wave sometime in 1980 (?). Oddly, 2 different channels ended up doing the same story on the same night. Unfortunately, an uncomfortably long shot of yours truly cutting a rug shows up around the :47 mark...sigh....(bonus points if you can spot Hope Nicholls from Fetchin Bones)

But The World Famous Milestone was our hangout and what a place it was! I believe it used to be a biker bar, but it’s owner, Bill Flowers, started booking local and regional punk and new wave acts. It was a perfect setting - seedy, rough and in a bad part of town that I never knew existed, far from my familiar suburban ‘hood. But this was shortly after my mom’s death, my marriage, leaving the hood and experiencing what I thought freedom and young adulthood should feel like.

A friend of ours started raving about the place and eventually we all started hanging out there. I’m pretty sure REM was the first band I saw there. Not a bad band to begin with. It was amazing to see their relatively quick progression in making it big - maybe 20 or so people were at the first show! Around the same time, Jamie was making noise about a Charlotte punk band that frequently played the Milestone - The Lunatics (they soon changed their name to The Orphans). So we went and checked them out too. It didn’t take long to establish that this is where we wanted to hang out.

We would go just about any night a band was booked. I used to have a pretty complete list of the bands that played there, but I can’t find it, so on “memory”: Insect Surfers, REM, Boo Boo Boys, Vietnam, Pins, Butchwax, Black Flag, Nervous Tension, Swimming Pool Q’s, Viper, Suzanne Sexless, The Go Go’s, Wild Giraffes, Vandals, Treva Spontaine, Mission Of Burma, None Of The Above, Gangrene....and eventually two bands that I played with -The Happy Eggs and No Rock Stars. (Years later, after I moved to California, I had a once in a lifetime thrill to play an absolutely mind-bending homecoming show there with Game Theory in 1986)

Bill Flowers, who ran the club was a funny guy. He seemed like a shell shocked Vietnam vet (which I think he was), but he was a nice guy that did his best to promote new music. Not an easy path, and many people could get flustered at times with his..uniqueness, but he was indeed a very important player in Charlotte’s counter-culture scene of that time. But his statement in the above newscast that drugs were not part of that scene was just a tad off the mark. While there was hardly any trouble at the club caused by drugs, they were being used by some and in a big way.

Quaaludes were the drug of choice, and what a nasty drug it was. Not glamorous like coke, or mind expanding like acid or mushrooms. They were downers. Very strong downers. I often heard them referred to as horse tranquilizers. I honestly don’t know if horses ever had the pleasure of this particular drug, but we sure did. Some people just pass out from, but with our crowd it gave an intense and tingling energy. A very sloppy energy, and for some reason it turned us into dancing fools (see above). And dance we did. It’s the only time in my life I wasn’t too self conscious to dance. It stripped all inhibitions away. It delivered a total hedonistic orgasm. We used it as a social tool, but it probably just made us more insular to our small group of friends. It delivered sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll on a grand scale. It was dangerous, but fortunately no one died (we were very lucky). It could have bad side effects, but most of us overcame them. It could make you do stupid things and it could completely and permanently erase from your memory bank what you actually did that night. But with all of that being said, I cannot deny that it was probably the most exhilarating fun I have ever experienced. We had found our new drug to go with our new scene.

With new drugs, came new friends. Suddenly we became aware of Charlotte’s gay club scene, and frankly...gays themselves! Their dance club scene fully embraced the transition from disco to new wave.
The gay nightclubs were a far cry from the Milestone, but new wavers were welcomed. Folks started to dress outrageously, in some cases breaking through gender boundaries. Make-up was for all people, not just the girls. Hair styles became pieces of art. Many of our gay friends worked or owned adult bookstores which brought a whole new set of rules to the table! The common ground was discovered and we ate it up. It was a full on cultural upheaval, similar to the hippie movement I came in late on, but we weren’t trying to change the world this time. We just wanted our own world and the freedom to do whatever the hell we wanted to. In a sense, I guess it was very similar to the disco daze; it was a very narcissistic way of life.

And how we danced. For the only time in my life I got it. We all did, and if the drugs and the bands were right, we danced our asses off. At this point in REM’s career, it’s hard to fathom that at one point they were absolutely the best dance band on the planet. Atlanta’s Vietnam was another one of our faves to dance to, as were D.C.’s Insect Surfers. We had a blast, and if a punk band was on the stage, we’d do our best to slam dance and not get killed in doing so. We were numb, but were feeling everything. Our senses were on fire and our bodies were out of control.

But then I see this photo of myself and 2 dear friends during that time. (I love this photo! Wynn took it and I love the composition. It strikes me as being very Felliniesque.)
I mentioned that no one died during those drug addled days, but I would be an idiot to not recognize that the drug culture we embraced eventually caught up with some of us. I’m the only one in that picture that is still alive. Quaaludes didn’t kill them, but that type of lifestyle, and the irresponsibility of failing to at least occasionally check in on one’s own emotional health, did eventually lead to their deaths in one way or another. They died at different times, from different causes, but they are both gone. Maybe we weren’t so lucky after all.

The Kids Are Alright

2009-03-02T18:27:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday, Stacey and I actually went out to a local club to see some bands. My friends, The Bye Bye Blackbirds were doing a show with 2 other local bands; The Parties and B and Not B. Bradley (of the BBB's) was pretty adamant that we would like the other 2 bands and that we should really try to make the show. Really try is an understatement...it is so hard to get me to go to a club to see bands these days...I'm old and can drink beer for much less money at home.

But the club (Starry Plough in Berkeley) is pretty close by and aside from supporting our pals, we both thought it would be nice to hear what music the kids are making these days. (I'm not being patronizing by using the word "kids"...just stating the facts..the parents of The Parties' front man were there and looked about my age...or younger....gulp.)

All 3 bands blew me away!

First up were B and Not B. They have a very dynamic front man with interesting songs. Hard to describe...some of the melodies were adventurous (not too unlike something Scott Miller could conceive), along with interesting arrangements. At least one song reminded me of Sparks. Extra points for the drummer using the traditional drumstick grip, and it's always cool to have a designated backup singer that stands there all alone on the front of the stage without an instrument to hide behind.

Next, were The Bye Bye Blackbirds. I really don't think I'm being biased here because they are my friends, but truly...they just keep getting better. They are craftsmen that must work hard at what they do. The songwriting keeps branching out. They performed a couple of new tunes that blew my skirt up. I keep hearing bits and pieces of country-rock seeping in to their sound, and it seems like it's a very comfortable fit. William Duke (the bass player) has a new song that is totally epic. Odd structure, but it involves me in a very good way.

Up last were The Parties. Hard to go wrong with a bunch of skinny, good looking guys with great hair that can actually sing, play and entertain. There is definitely a mod/mid 60's Brit thing going on, but they do it flawlessly. Their show felt loose, but they were tight. Front man has amazing stage presence, and I enjoyed the hell out of their show!

I gotta mention that there were 2 common attributes that all 3 bands displayed that I love to see and hear. First, they all looked good. I used to not care about what a band looks or dresses like, but now that I'm not up on the stage, I really appreciate when a band dresses up. I saw a lot of jackets, vests and ties, and I think that looks good. Way back in the day, Scott wanted Game Theory to all dress in sport coats and turtle neck sweaters, like he's wearing on Real Nighttime. I balked - I was just out of a Gothic rock band that put a lot of emphasis on fashion, and I was not comfortable with that. I thought a band should just be plain ol' folks up on stage, playing well. On a more practical level, I thought I would die from heat stroke! The concept went no further, but now I look back and realize Scott was just trying to come up with something that would set us apart from all of the other bands. Not a bad idea.

The other thing that impressed me with all 3 bands were the vocal harmonies. All of these guys could sing and most importantly, sing well together. I don't think there's any other thing a band can do that will get my attention more than good vocals. It sounds good, and not an easy thing to do. That type of work can really pay off.

Bradley - thanks.

Drown In My Own Tears

2009-02-20T18:28:00.000-08:00

It's tough to even think about blogging when I get overwhelmed with anxiety. Actually, that's kinda my usual state, but at least this time the source is something real and concrete. Believe me, it's nice to be able to actually nail it down and that it's nothing intangible that myself or anyone else has difficulty to name. Ha! I can beat this one! Potential impending financial doom?? I scoff at you!

Whatever...if it wasn't enough that our condo is screwed (see below), now Stacey and I have 2 Saturns that will either become rare and collectible ( yeah...right!), or worthless to re-sell (most likely) thanks to GM's announcement that Saturn will be toast by 2012. Way to go GM. You've run yourself into the ground and you're getting bailouts. We thought we were doing good by buying American, but it turns out that buying American is a joke. Corporate ineptitude and greed is what we invested in. Again, whatever...

Now our jobs are seriously at stake because we did not have the gumption or desire to get the hell out of the music biz. We're still there, but it could all go in a snap. It's beating me down.

Oh, I almost forgot...401Ks

But I have Stacey, and a tweaker of a cat. We have family and dear friends. And I have Valium.

Here are some more photos of our snorkel adventure in Cancun.

Oh No! Pass The Crisco...My Condo's Been Christo'd!

2009-02-07T12:44:00.000-08:00

I wish. A Christo art installation would probably be a hell of a lot cheaper than the repair work that needs to be done at our condo.

The above picture is of the temporary fix to prevent further water damage in the front 2 buildings of our condo. Fortunately, Stacey and I live way in the back, in a building that does not leak. Unfortunately, we all have to pay for the repair. Frankly, I think we should call it art, get a grant from the bail-out, and leave it as it is.

Kill me now.

Get your.....kicks!

2009-02-01T11:47:00.000-08:00

Can't get much cooler than......Bobby Troup:

Scott Miller and I discovered Mr. Troup while working together at City Hall Records, way back in the day. Many folks will remember him mainly as an actor, along with his ultra cool wife - Julie London - from the 70's TV show Emergency.

But it's his music that gets me excited. Aside from being a great songwriter (which includes the above tune), he's a master of cool jazz phrasing that can throw you for a loop. Check out how he can string along a word up until the point you think he can't anymore, but then concludes the line with a hard consonant that borders the cheese tightrope, but always falls on the cool side.

He's playful and cool. His song Hungry Man is an ode to good food -"shish kebab, shish kebab....one of my fav-o-rite...snacks." The Three Bears tells the story of Goldilocks in a swinging way - "bear-baba-re-bare said the little wee bear, someone has broken my chair". And then there's the coolest version of Do-Re-Mi that I've ever heard. The hills are alive alright, but this time it's the Hollywood Hills.

It's about cool, it's about swinging. La Dolce Vita L.A. style. I'm so there.

Crushed

2009-01-22T19:26:00.000-08:00

As a kid, my first crushes were on girls that I saw on TV: Laura Petrie (Mary Tyler Moore), Patty Lane (Patty Duke) and Caroline Kennedy.

I see that Caroline has withdrawn her name for the N.Y. Senate seat that everybody thought was hers to have. Whatever, I guess she didn't want it and that's fine. She still looks great and I still have bit of a crush on her.

Mary Tyler Moore looked awesome in the Dick Van Dyke Show, but now it seems she may have had one too many plastic surgeries. But that's her call. I will accept that. Who the hell am I to knock someone's choice to do that to themselves. Hell, if someday I find the perfect awful toupee, I may just buy it!

Patty Duke was hot as Patty Lane and her mysteriously identical cousin - Cathy. Not sure how those genetics happened, but I suppose it's possible. A hot dog made Patty lose control, but now she has made a commercial for Social Security. And dammit...she looks old, but I guess I do too. But she's still hot in my book and has always been a wonderful actress. You go girl....I mean woman.

Patty Duke then:

(note the shot of Patty at the 10 second mark. I lose control at that shot!)

Patty Duke now:

Bad Kitty!

2009-01-18T15:20:00.000-08:00

Well, not really, but it's been forever since I've had a kitten and I've forgotten how...energetic they can be. Make that - insane!

Dexter is 8 months old and while he's up to about 9 lbs., his antics are definitely kitten-like. In other words, he's a black & white wrecking crew that has moments when Stacey and I think he's either going to kill himself and/or bring the whole house down. He's getting better, though. After a couple of intense ass-bustings, he's learning to look before he leaps. Thank God.

But it's hard to stay worked up over all of that, because he is just a kitten, and a damned cute one at that. Here's a couple of pics of Dexter kicking back. I think he's going to be a good cat.

In And Out With The New And The Old

2009-01-03T14:12:00.000-08:00

(getting my groove-on during a recording session at Davis Sounds)

In the late 70's, Jamie decided to go into the studio with me and Murphy to record a 12" single of 2 pop tunes he had written. Jamie had been working as an engineer and producer in Charlotte for some time by now, occasionally calling me in for various studio gigs, and developing a long lasting relationship with one of Charlotte’s premier local engineer/producers - Mark Williams . He wound up calling this particular group The Happy Eggs, borrowing the moniker from our mid-70's prog lineup that featured the 3 of us with Dennis from Ebenezer. What the heck - The Happy Eggs is a pretty great name!

I have no idea what year we did this...there is no date anywhere on the cover or the vinyl. His concept was to make the record itself to look like an egg (!) It’s on white vinyl with a bright yellow center label. The simple black & white cover (cheap...the extra expense was for white vinyl) features our faces inside egg shaped ovals. As you can see, this is before the new music was fully embraced due to our very 70's rock 'n roll mustaches!

The songs were “You Can’t Avoid Love” and “Blue Skies”. Both were pretty straight ahead pop tunes. The title of “Blue Skies” had a pretty unusual circumstance; Wynn had visited a “psychic” and she predicted huge success for our musical futures and the word or color “blue” was very predominate. Jamie jumped all over that....so much for psychics!

During the early days of Charlotte discovering the new wave and punk scene, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention some of the musical stuff that was happening in the area that wasn’t really in that genre, but was indeed greatly influenced by it.

Two cover bands were making a big splash on the local music scene. The first was a 60's Brit-pop cover band, The Spongetones, featuring who else, but Pat Walters and drummer extraordinaire Rob Thorne! They did this stuff out of pure love of the music and they did it wonderfully. Before long they were attracting large crowds at the local clubs (and still are some 29 years later!). The first incarnation featured a local scenster named Jake Berger, and I heard many great things about them. I was definitely intrigued due to the participation of 2 of my local rock legends, but unfortunately I think I only saw this line-up once, at a New World Record’s Xmas (?) party.

From Atlanta, Charlotte was invaded by another 60's cover band; Cruise-O-Matic. They mostly stuck to a more American garage-rock repertoire. They were an extremely talented bunch of nuts that put on the most entertaining shows you could imagine. They had a goofy sense of humor and could whip off these tunes effortlessly. (Including another amazingly party-intensive New World Records Halloween Party!).

(Murphy and I getting our dance-on with Cruise-O-Matic)

Word got around quickly on both of these bands. It was also around the time that we were getting involved in the punk/new wave thing, and I remember going to many of the shows, doing lots of drugs (Quaaludes were definitely the drug of choice - more about that later...) and dressing up in our thrift store new wave-wear. We danced our asses off and had a blast.

In hindsight, I think these 2 bands were a perfect bridge into the world of new wave and punk. There was a definite garage sound, eliminating the bloat of the mid - late 70's rock music. Couple that with a new sense of fun and style, and you get something relatively fresh sounding and liberating.

I’m obviously a bit cloudy on dates here (things were happening at a breakneck pace), but suddenly, a rather substantial change happened to The Spongetones. Jake was out and Jamie was in! Holy crap! The ramifications of this was mind-blowing. Jamie was now directly involved with our shared rock heroes, Pat and Rob. I was blown away. While I was extremely happy for Jamie, I was probably a bit jealous, too. I cannot understate the importance these guys meant to Jamie and I. If it wasn’t for groups like The Paragons, The Good, The Bad And the Ugly, Jeremiah, The New Mix, Hummingbird etc..., I really don’t know what direction our lives would have taken. Now, Jamie was part of that. Wow.

His influence and impact became immediately apparent. In 1980, The Spongetones released a 45 produced by Jamie featuring 2 Pat Walters’ penned tunes; “Better Take It Easy” and “You’re The One”. Decidedly Brit-pop, these were 2 short, concise pop songs that sparkled. The sound was much more...immediate, and by coincidence, it was for sale at New World Records, being displayed alongside of The Egg’s 12"! It sounded so much better! I was envious!.

The jealousy was short lived, though. Jamie had decided that this would be a great time to reform The Happy Eggs, but this time, his vision for The Eggs was one of a mixture of punk and new wave sensibilities, with a good dose of skewering obscure cult classics. Murphy and I got on board without hesitation. Kenny Phillips was brought in to play bass and we quickly went to work learning covers, writing originals and learning Jamie’s amazing arrangements of a rather bizarre collection of standards and classics.

He had a full plate and he handled it with no problem. These were exciting times, and Charlotte was primed just right for the unleashing of The Egg’s particularly smart-ass brand of punk.
(getting my New Wave-on)

Snorkel Fun!

2008-12-27T13:04:00.000-08:00

One of the group activities I agreed to experience in Cancun was snorkeling. I've never done it - I regrettably passed it up a couple years ago in Maui. While my prime directive was to just relax in Cancun, (..sit on the beach, have cocktails and stare at the ocean), I felt compelled to actually...do stuff...since my wonderfully nice and generous in-laws were footing most of the bill.

All 7 of us piled into a mini-van, along with about 6 other folks, including a somewhat attractive, but very talkative Mary Kay saleswoman. I got to sit next to her. Lucky me.

We journeyed for about 25 minutes or so, ultimately reaching a road under construction. Another resort was being built on one side, and on the other was a swampy looking area that contained many crocodiles monitoring our progress, which had now halted while we waited for some machinery to get moved so we could pass. Nice touch!

When we arrived, we were all handed a box lunch, which while nice, proved very cumbersome to hold on to as we were all rushed through huts to pick out life jackets and fins. It was a bit frantic, but fortunately the first set of fins the dude handed me seemed to fit just fine. Note to self: trim toenails before wearing flippers..

We then were herded to small tables covered with thatched umbrella-styled tops. This is where we were to leave all personal belongings, including our lunches. Lockers were provided for valuables.

After a brief pep talk, we were sent down to our boat. About 20 of us "boarded". Stacey bashed her leg as she was being dragged aboard resulting in some of the most spectacular bruises I have ever seen (she bruises like a banana).

The weather was very overcast and the wind was chilly. Aside from flying, I think one of the things I hate most in life is being cold. Once the spray of the ocean hit me as we boated to our snorkeling destination, I knew I was in for a rough afternoon. I was freezing!

During our ride, we were all handed masks and snorkels. Once I saw all of us trying these on, I did find a moment in my misery to laugh at the sight. We were now all aliens! Aliens that were being taught to spit into our masks to prevent fogging. Well, I don't know about the rest of my new alien friends, but due to my usual state of white-knuckle stress, coupled with my battery of anti-stress medications, this particular alien had absolutely no spit to even consider. I guess I should of asked the talkative Mary Kay rep to borrow some, but that was a missed opportunity.

After about a 10 minute ride, we came upon our first snorkeling site. Great. More than one site?! We were given a relatively brief crash course on how to snorkel and then told to jump in. Jump in? Just like that? Into this Arctic Sea? It is freezing!!!!

It was actually worse than I imagined. Honestly, I thought my heart was going to burst. Usually that cold-water sensation goes away quickly, but this time it went on, and on, and on. Screams (and curses) of my agony were bubbling under the ocean's surface. While it took way too long to acclimate, I (we) finally did, and we found the ocean to be the warmest spot to be in at that moment. ...ocean=warmth=mother....sigh.... yeah, right...

The first site was pretty shallow and we were cautioned about the potentially eviscerating coral formations. Most of us got the hang of snorkeling pretty quickly, with the exception of the few (including Stacey's dad) that had to cope with ill-fitting masks due to facial hair. Drag, but the reefs were pretty cool and there were plenty of fish to see if you could....see. Note to self - next time, order prescription goggles for Stacey. Poor thing is blind as a bat without her glasses..

One of the guides was in the water with us. He had a big red buoy and would regularly call out to us to try to keep us somewhat together. It was pretty easy to get caught up and "wander" away from the group. It was sort of like a sadistic game of Marc Polo, because you could find yourself poking your head out of the water to see where we were all going, but as soon as you put your face back into the water, you could suddenly be way to close to some coral and my mind would flash to the image of my blood and insides spilling into the water from my ripped open underbelly. Relaxing.

Aside from the horror of underwater disembowelment, swallowing water, accidental flipper slashings, occasionally losing sight of Stacey, and most importantly, the absolute dread of getting back onto our Alaskan cruise passenger boat, it was pretty neat. In spite of no sunshine, the water was still very clear and many things could be seen and appreciated.

After about 30 or so minutes at site #1, that dreaded moment of getting back on that damned boat occurred. It did not disappoint. As each person climbed (or was pulled) back onto the boat, the individual moans (some screams) as the Arctic chill hit our bodies soon merged into one. In a vague sense (not unlike the recent economic...downturn), there was a tiny bit of comfort knowing that as one, we were all suffering.

We were purple, we had goosebumps, our teeth were chattering, we hugged complete strangers in failed attempts to get warm. We were united. We were one. Sorry Obama, but No We Can't!

Not soon enough, we arrived at site #2 which was deeper (colder), but had more complex and beautiful reefs. We were aliens that had found an unknown planet. It was very cool. And it was great to get off that damned boat.

I didn't like the feeling of losing sight of Stacey, so I developed a method to help me locate her while we were in the ocean (usually her red hair can do the trick, but when wet, most hair looks alike). I decided that the best way to locate her was to look above the water for her blue (swimsuit clad!) butt. That seemed to work fine once I figured out it was a blue suit she was wearing, not the green one I thought she was wearing. My apologies to the lady with the green ass!

After about 30 minutes, we were dragged back on board the torture ship and headed back to land. Sweet, sweet land with boxed lunches and towels. We did it. We were still alive. Just some impressive bruises on Stacey and a little salt water in our ears. And in store for me the next day, were some very sore muscles in parts of my body that I don't usually use (which is most of 'em!). But that was OK because the following day, I was scheduled for an 80 minute therapeutic massage in our resort's spa. Sweet!

*My underwater pics I took are not developed yet. If they come out OK, I'll be glad to share them, but in the meantime: here's another kitty picture!

There Is A Santa!

2008-12-25T11:17:00.000-08:00

Meet Dexter. 2 days ago, Stacey and I filed for adoption of this fine kitty from Oakland's Hopalong & Second Chance Rescue, and obviously, we were accepted! He's about 7 months old, and so far, seems about as perfect a kitty as we could have hoped for! He plays, he sleeps, he's an amazing leaper, and he loves to sit in our laps and kick back.

He's a fine kitty. Oops...check that. I just had to get him down from walking on my synthesizer....Oh yeah, he's a kitty, alright!

Merry Christmas!!!

Cancun'ed!

2008-12-19T18:45:00.000-08:00

While not nearly as adventurous as my Mazatlan vacation (thankfully), our Cancun vacation was very nice! A couple of relatively minor adventures came our way, but for the most part it was just a week of eating, drinking and hanging out by the ocean or the pool (under umbrellas, of course...my wife is a vampire with a huge sun aversion, and certain medications I'm on don't take to sunlight too kindly, either).

We stayed at a humongous resort compound named the Moon Palace. It's a timeshare kind of situation that Stacey's dad treated us to. All food and drinks were free. There was a full size jacuzzi in our room. We were waited on hand and foot. I loved it! I needed it! I deserved it! Sure, it sort of felt like we were staying at the "Village" the Prisoner was trapped on, but it was the perfect setting for someone like me.

We were joined by Stacey's dad, stepmother, brother and some friends of her dad's. I haven't seen her side of the family for some time, so it was cool to combine a vacation with a family reunion.

My priority was to sit on a beach, have cocktails and stare out at the ocean. It was mostly overcast (fine with us), warm, and pretty darned windy the first couple of days, but that didn't seem to hinder my chillin' at all. Unfortunately, the ocean was red-flagged the whole time, so we couldn't hang out in the water, but that didn't bother me too much, either (the constant parade of kelp removing tractors did, though..). The pool was way too cold for me, but I was fine just hangin'. Stacey's dad and brother are pretty buffed guys and her step mom used to be a Playboy bunny, so I wasn't looking forward to them seeing my pathetic little sunken chest (see above..)!

The resort has several restaurants to choose from ranging from "Mexican", "Italian", "Caribbean" and "Asian". We tried them all, and Stacey and I were shocked at how bland most of the food was. Some of it was very good, but I guess there must be a prime directive to not scare off the tourists with spicy food. Weird!

We ventured out of the safety and comfort of the resort a couple of times. Stacey went out silver shopping with some of her family and scored a very nice silver necklace for me, some amber and earrings for her. I believe on the same outing, her stepmother (now a nurse) scored a bunch of very cheap prescription drugs (nothing illegal!) at the local...Walmart!

We all went on a snorkeling adventure that I will write about soon. Not the most...pleasant part of the vacation, at least for me. And on our last full day, we all went to the Isla Mujeres. Not quite the relaxation I wanted on the last day (it involved a 30 minute bus ride and another 30 minute boat ride on a party boat), but I'm glad I went.

...my view:

...his view:

...party time!

For the most part, it was a very nice and much needed vacation. It's just the getting there I can't stand. I hate flying, airports and airplanes. So much, as a matter of fact, I think that the next time I feel the need to see a foreign land, I'll rent the DVD instead. I know...I suck.

(Some friends I made at Isla Mujeres...)

Me llama es Gilberto

2008-12-08T19:20:00.000-08:00

The last time I went to Mexico (Mazatlan in 1986 with an ex-girlfriend), we had an adventure on our very last night involving an ill advised and drunken trip to our waiter's home to visit with his mother and to see "how real Mexicans live".

The trip involved a tiny village, his crazy mother (La Bruja), a dance with a giant wooden phallus, flooded roads, no taxi service, a ride back to town in a stranger's jeep, a machete, a stalled out jeep, and being surrounded by a carload of young Mexican men.

I hope our trip to Cancun will be boring. See you next week!

Uno mas cervesa, por favor!

You Are My Candy, Girl!

2008-12-01T20:07:00.000-08:00

Sunday, Stacey and I (and 2 friends) drove up the road a piece and took a free tour of the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, California. Being Sunday, the factory was shut down, but we still got the tour, saw the machines, and had an informative guide. There were short videos every couple of yards that explained all you need to know as to how Jelly Bellys are made.

Ronald Reagan made these gourmet jelly beans very popular while he was president. I guess Jelly Belly is very grateful because the whole damn place was outfitted like a shrine to him. Lots of Reagan portraits made with Jelly Bellys. Whatever...I'm not a big jelly bean fan anyway (hate Easter), but it was still a fun diversion.

Jelly Belly has many wonderful and unique flavors (I'm partial to the "soda pop" ones, myself), but they also make godawful yucky ones that I assume kids go for. Well, some of us must have been feeling like kids cause we went for the worst of 'em at the "sample bar". Here's what we tried:

Booger - disappointing because it was edible. Sort of...salty and warm.
Pencil Shavings - Stacey tried this one and liked it.
Moldy Cheese - Stacey tried this one and spit it out rather quickly.
Skunk Spray - Jennifer and I both tried this one and I think it stayed in Jennifer's mouth much longer than it did in mine. I barely cracked it with my teeth and that was enough. Out it went.
Vomit - I could have possibly gotten a little further with this one, but Stacey mentioned that she bet it would taste like pepperoni. It did, and I couldn't get it out of my mouth fast enough. Not that I hate pepperoni, it's just that I recently had a bout with a nasty stomach virus, and surprisingly, pepperoni sort of summed up all that is bad when it comes to to hurling.

I wonder if Jelly Belly has ever made "playdough" or "paste" flavors? Could be big.

This New Music Creeps Me Out!

2008-11-15T18:58:00.000-08:00

(another part of my life in music, late '79?)

Before Jamie introduced me to the first records by the Sex Pistols, Devo, Talking Heads and Elvis Costello, Wynn and I were both having a blast being married and working at New World Records. We were making new friends, getting tons of records, partying hard and occasionally going to the few rock shows Charlotte had to offer. By the late 70's, most major bands skipped Charlotte, opting to play in D.C. and Atlanta. We did see some shows, and while most were pretty lame; Heart, Firefall, Boston, Gino Vannelli, Kenny Loggins (!) - (funny...there’s a couple of those shows I wished I had paid a bit more attention to!), one concert that definitely stood out was Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at the Charlotte Coliseum.

I still don’t know how or why, but the owner of New World Records actually knew Springsteen and Clarence Clemons. While we were 2 very small independent record stores, we would usually get Springsteen’s latest LP’s before the big record chains would ( Record Bar and Grapevine). The owner loved that! We were special! We were so special, we all got free tickets when Bruce came to town. Everything we had heard about his legendary concerts was true. 3+ hours of high intensity rock and roll. One of the best shows I have ever seen. And we had great seats! For free!

But things were changing in the music world. Frankly, things had been changing for some time, but Charlotte was very slow to catch on to just about anything as far as the cultural arts and trends were concerned (including liquor by the drink!). At work, we started getting in tons of new records from the early days of punk and new wave. Initially, I thought the bands all looked like freaks and couldn’t play their instruments - it was a knee-jerk reaction but I wanted nothing to do with such noisy sounding rubbish.

At this point I had been playing drums for about 13 years. I had played in many different bands with many different styles, and I worked hard to become a pretty good drummer - even made a living at it. It just pissed me off that these new snotty-nosed punks were making records, getting press and making statements that the bloated dinosaur-rock of the 70's was now over. Anyone could be in a band regardless of talent as long as you possessed a bad attitude and had spiky hair. That caused a huge disconnect with me. Damn amateurs! Learn to play your instruments, and then maybe.... I’ll give you a listen.

But then it clicked. Once Jamie got me to actually sit down and listen to these records, it quickly connected. I was as late to the party as Charlotte was, but there it was! Aside from the cosmetic aesthetics, punk wasn’t that far removed from the rebellious aspects of being a hippie freak; stand out, look weird, screw the Man, and bring on the Now. Ironically, both movements had no problem at all in plundering the past for inspiration, either. They took what they found appealing and incorporated it into something new and (hopefully) original. In the early days of hippie psychedelic bands, many San Francisco bands based their clothing design on the American Victorian age (Charlatans, Dan Hicks etc..). Punks seemed to go with a 50's biker look, but with crazy hair, and while most biker types did not favor the crazy colors the punk rockers seemed to enjoy, I bet the grease was somewhat similar...

The difference? Not much, really. But musically, the hippies seemed to expand earlier rock conventions with a no holds barred experimentation, long flowing jams, free love and....body odor, while the early punk rockers went back to more simple and basic chord progressions, adding rawness, buzzsaw tempos, spitefulness, pessimism and....spitting.

Since I was still stubbornly trying to retain at least some of my progressive-rock tastes, I was surprised that it wasn’t too much of a stretch to enjoy the more angular styles of New Wave. It should also be noted that in time, some of my prog rock heroes ended up embracing and being involved in this new music - Eno (Devo, Talking Heads), Robert Fripp (Blondie, Talking Heads and his side-group The League oF Gentleman which featured Barry Andrews (XTC) and Sara Lee(Gang Of 4)). Even Ray Shulman of Gentle Giant eventually got into the act with production chores on The Sugarcubes first album!

While the photos I had seen of Devo actually gave me the creeps, once I heard Jocko Homo I was locked in. The rhythmic play between their odd drum beats, bizarre instruments and decidedly warped view of life was hard to resist. Are We Not Men? I’m not sure! They actually frightened the hell out of me. Job well done!

Elvis Costello also looked scary to me, but the Attractions were and still are one of the best bands in the world. Excellent musicians, and one of the greatest drummers I had ever heard. They sported a great look (white socks!), and seemed genuinely pissed off. The song writing wasn’t too shabby, either.

Talking Heads also had sort of a prog-rock feel to them. Art damaged and clever. Not quite as scary looking as the other bands, but I found plenty of scary things in David Byrne’s vocals, and since I was just a few years from my disco days, I found much appreciation in their wonderfully danceable beats, but without the cheese of a mirrored disco ball hanging from the ceiling (unless of course there was some irony in the house!)

XTC were another band not too far removed from progressive rock. The speed and tightness that they poured into their very angular style (esp. the first 2 LP’s) appealed to me greatly. Herky jerky dislocation performed at warp speed. Pretty funny lyrics, too.

The first Sex Pistol’s LP was an entirely different style that took me a bit longer to get in to, but ultimately I was floored by the power and tightness the band displayed. Of course I had no idea that they had a bunch of studio ringers brought in to play, but I think that’s irrelevant. It blew the doors off of my world and I was gone! We all were and we embraced it with all of our hearts.

Everything was changing; our music, clothing, hair and perhaps most importantly, our attitude about culture and politics. We also found ourselves quickly wrapped up into a relatively hardcore lifestyle of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Can’t really have one without the other, right? They were dangerous times, but it was also some of the most absolutely insane fun I have ever had. Glad that most of us are still here.

Thanks For The Beats, Mitch

2008-11-13T19:07:00.000-08:00

Probably my biggest rock 'n roll thrill was seeing the Jimi Hendrix Experience live, in Charlotte, way back in the day. My biggest thrill of that concert was seeing a roady actually nail down Mitch Mitchell's bass drum to the drum riser a few moments before they hit the stage. That moment cemented into my 13 year old brain that I had to be a rock drummer.

I'm terribly saddened by the news of Mitch Mitchell's death, yesterday. He has always been one of my favorite drummers. He could make some of the most powerful, intense rock music ever created, swing ! Hendrix's Manic Depression is a definitive example of this. One of the best rock drum tracks ever made. Ever.

Not only did his playing inspire me, the sound of his drum set set the standard as to how rock drums should sound. They sound like drums! Cracking snare, a kick drum that actually has personality and tone, and musically pitched tom-toms that ring out, instead of thudding! I call that sound the teen-combo-drum-sound, and while Sandy Nelson may have first recorded drums that sounded like this, Mitch Mitchell applied that sound to psychedelic rock and I've been trying for 39 years to duplicate that sound.

Rest in peace, Mitch. If there is a rock 'n roll heaven, I'm sure you've already hooked up with Jimi and Noel. Hope God has a box of nails.

Carolina Blue!

2008-11-06T18:14:00.000-08:00

Weird. I have now lived 1/2 of my life in California. The first 1/2 was in Charlotte, N.C., and I gotta tell you, I'm pretty proud of North Carolina right now. Not only did N.C. go for Obama for President, they elected a Democratic Governor and Senator. Way to go, Tarheels!

While California is where I live, N.C. will always be my home. Someday I plan on coming back, but for now....good job! (I also found out that N.C. has a Transylvania County, and even though I'm sure they didn't go for Obama, who could resist not living there!)

Actually, I'm proud to be an American right now. We've done good, and I feel better about this country than I have for a long time. Hope is a good thing, and Obama's election has filled the "hope-void" in my heart that has been there for the longest of times. Feels different. I'm going to let it stay there for a while. Feels good.

This feels good, too:

At the 1:50 point of this video, I usually get tears in my eyes, but they are good tears. It's nice. Love and Hope. Good.

Happy Halloweenie!

2008-10-31T19:16:00.000-07:00

Here we are at work. It's amazing the effect one can obtain by the simple act of pulling your pants up as high as they will go. Within reason, that is...

There's A Bald Moon Rising!

2008-10-25T17:59:00.000-07:00

Not a very flattering angle, but I see that my hair's getting pretty long in the back. What you can't see very well is that I'm looking at a co-worker's dog - Toby.

Toby is in his annual Halloween costume, and this year he had chosen to be a knight in shining armor. Of course another co-worker (also from the South) and myself immediately thought that Toby had chosen to be the Grand Wizard of the KKK. Regardless, Toby wore his costume with pride, and I think he's a good dog!

While not dressed for Halloween, Petrie (a lovely peach colored cockatoo) is a regular at work. Her owner brings her everyday and I have enjoyed her company for years. She's a sweetheart that has a limited vocabulary, but she can manipulate those few words with so much inflection!

"Hello Petrie" is her favorite choice of words.

As I walk towards her, it usually starts very simple:
"hello Petrie"
As I get closer, she amps it up a bit:
"Hello Petrie!"
And once I'm directly in front of her:
"HELLOOOO PEEETRIE!"

That one gets me every time. I take her out of her cage and hold her to my chest. She then lays her head up against me and I proceed to gently scratch her underneath her feathers on her back.

I never thought birds could be this expressive and filled with so much personality. I've seen Petrie absolutely melt the most gangsta hardened rappers the Bay Area has to offer. She's a good bird.

Here she is having a bit of a tweak attack.

While these are indeed very tough times for indie music distribution, I really appreciate that the owners allow these very sweet and entertaining critters to be here. It helps.

I Kissed A Boy (holy cow..it was David Yow!)

2008-10-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

Well....that was different.

Saturday night, Stacey and I went to Annie's Social Club in S.F. to see a dear friend that I met in the Game Theory days in Chicago in the mid 80's. Her name is Ellen and we became great friends as soon as I met her and some of her friends at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois after a show. She has since moved to L.A. and is a successful T.V. producer.

She contacted me a couple of weeks ago with the exciting news that her boyfriend's band - QUI - had a gig in town and it would be great if we could hook up. QUI features singer David Yow (Jesus Lizard and Scratch Acid ). I checked out QUI's MySpace site and got a crash course in their music and what to expect - very loud art/punk rock. Not my cup-o-tea, but I really wanted to see Ellen.

David is a couple of years younger than me and he was excited to hang with someone "older" than him for a change! Very cool fellow. He referred to Jello Biafra (who attended the show) as Jello BeaArthur, which cracked me up to no end!

Their show was loud, energetic and there were plenty of things I loved very much about their music. The band is just guitar, drums and David, screaming his way through some very tricky, almost prog-punk music. Sorta like Blue Cheer meets King Crimson with a screaming banshee for a singer.

David has incredible energy, screams a lot and at one point sang a song hangin' upside down with his knees holding on to plumbing pipes that hung from the ceiling. The fans were amazing. The club was packed and I've never seen so many digital devices taking tons of pics! Very punk crowd, but a bit older. Stacey noticed plenty of guys with male pattern baldness crimping the punk hairstyles that many still desperately hang on to.

After the show, we were hanging with Ellen, who was manning the merch booth. David came over, and was a bit...caught up in a pretty hearty beer and adrenalin rush. I bought a t-shirt. He gave me a CD. He also kissed me on the mouth. I submitted. Glad I don't have to kiss many people with whiskers. Been a while since I've done that. He also kissed Stacey on the mouth. I then kissed Ellen on the mouth twice. I guess you could say we had a faux 3-way. (Stacey and Ellen did not kiss).

Just another typical rock & night on Folsom Street.

Just so happens that today, Scott Miller posted his best of 1989. Surprised to see Jesus Lizard on his list.

The Little Things In Life

2008-10-16T19:16:00.000-07:00

For about 15 years, I've gone to Best Burger in San Rafael (at the Montecito Plaza), at least once a week for lunch during the work week. I am in love and addicted to their delicious Teriyaki Chicken Sandwich. Pretty simple sandwich - grilled chicken, lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles on a soft roll with teriyaki sauce slathered on the chicken. No big deal really, but I'm a man that digs routine, and going there to eat, read the newspaper, and chat with the fab owners is all deeply embedded in me.

7 months ago, they had a kitchen fire and were "closed for remodeling". I felt lost. My routine was messed with. I had one less place to go for lunch in the town I've worked in for 25 years. I knew I would miss those sandwiches!

About once a month I would attempt to call to see if they had reopened, but all I got was that butt-ugly sound you get when a fax machine picks up. Occasionally I would drive there to see if I could determine visually, what was going on. No luck - the windows were papered over.

After about 4 months, I started to prepare myself for the possibility that they may never reopen. I was very bummed out, but this week....they reopened!

I was so excited! I blew off lunch with work-friends so I could go to Best Burger by myself. I wanted to be alone, at my usual table, eating the best chicken sandwich in the world, and to have a private moment between me and the owners to express my heartfelt joy that they were back. It was a sweet moment, and for a couple of hours, I was the happiest guy in the world.

Bless you, Best Burger!

Out With The Old..In With The New!

2008-10-08T20:25:00.000-07:00

Another chapter of "my life in music"! 1979ish???

After Mom died, things moved very fast for me. The first thing I had to deal with was selling our family’s house. This was the only house I had ever lived in, but big changes were flying at me and I had to deal with it. My sibs offered me the house at a fair price, but I felt I needed to break away. I was caught in a whirlwind and felt compelled to start my new life.

First off, my high school sweetheart and I immediately found a decent house to rent in an OK part of Charlotte. It was “across the train tracks” from my nice neighborhood, pretty redneck, but OK. It was a 3 bedroom house with a fenced in backyard for all of $250 a month. After my sibs and I took what we wanted from our house, we cleared it out and my girlfriend (Wynn) and I moved in together. Mom would not have approved of course, but I felt free and grown up. Change is good! My dog (“Caesar”) and Wynn’s cat (....”Kitty”..) probably weren’t too thrilled with the arrangement, but Wynn and I dug it. It was all so natural.

Of course, selling the family home had some very...unusual moments. We originally tried to sell it ourselves, but not much happened (with the exception of a neighbor coming down and seriously suggesting that we don’t sell to...”blacks” - we responded by telling him that we’re gonna sell to whoever gives us the money!), so we went with a couple of real estate agents. Poor souls.

Since my brother and sister lived out of town, I was left to handle it. The first call from the real estate agent went like this: “Hi Gil. Ummm...I showed the house today and I think you need to do some serious flea-bombing - we walked in and there was a black cloud of fleas that went up to about knee level on my clients and myself.” OK, no problem. The fleas were bombed.

The second call came one morning after a night when I let some friends park their cars in our front yard while we all went and enjoyed Charlotte’s Festival In The Park. The house was vacant, we still owned it, and there was no place to park at all during that yearly event (the same event that I saw all of those great local rock bands back in the day!), so cool! Why not?

When my buddies and I returned to the house, we discovered that all of the cars in the front yard had their tires slashed! WTF? Could it be a sinister message from our racist neighbor? Probably just vandals, but bizarre none the less. About 3 cars were left in the yard overnight - the owners would come back the next day to deal with it. The next morning I got another call from our poor real estate agent; “Gil...do you know there’s a bunch of cars in your front yard with their tires slashed? Looks pretty bad..” I think I freaked her out a bit when I replied that yes, I knew about the cars. They would be gone shortly.

The house eventually sold, and I gained possession of Mom’s Buick. Now I had my own home, a decent car, and my girlfriend and her cat were living in sin with me and my dog. Pretty sweet, and Mom would have been very pleased to know that our sinful living wasn’t for too long, due to the fact that my girlfriend and I went and got married! In Rock Hill! By a Justice of the Peace! With our best friends in attendance! And we were drunk!

It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision - we just weren’t religious and thought it would be neat to do it this way. The Justice of the Peace turned out to be a bit cranky and actually threatened to stop the ..”ceremony” if our party didn't start behaving in a ..... more respectful manner. Screw that! I’ve already paid you your $35! Where's my gift bag containing toothpaste and condoms! It was a lot of fun, regardless, and we liked the idea of being married. We also learned that even if you don’t invite family to the wedding, you can send out announcements and still get cool gifts! I’m sure my sibs were disappointed but we did it the way we wanted to, and at that particular time of my life, it just had to be.

Wynn and I also had the greatest jobs in the universe. We now both worked at Charlotte's coolest record stores! Wynn worked at the main store and when they opened a smaller satellite store on the other side of town, I got a job there. The 2 store “chain” was called New World Records and for a while at least, it was heaven and yes, another life-changer!

I don’t remember the exact dates when this happened, but during my time at the record store, I became aware that something was up with rock music. My primary love at the time was still prog and jazz-rock fusion, but it was becoming a real stretch to find decent stuff to listen to. As time went by, Jamie Hoover kept putting a bug in my ear about new wave and punk. I was also noticing that we were selling more and more of this type of music at the store. At first, I was really put off by it all. I thought it sucked. I thought the musicians couldn't play. It was more horrible than disco!

But one night I was at Jamie’s house and he more or less forced me to listen to the first LP’s of Devo, Sex Pistols, Elvis Costello and the Talking Heads. Holy crap!

It clicked. Boy, did it ever.

Refund?????

2008-10-06T18:56:00.000-07:00

Good job, guys! Mission Accomplished! Oh...and by the way, can we get that 700 billion back? Don't think that plan worked out too well.....

Bye Bye, Summer

2008-10-01T18:49:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year, again - Fall. It is my most melancholy season. I discovered this once I move to California, some 28 years ago. Where I live (S.F. Bay Area), there really isn't a true autumn, and that bums me out. Back in North Carolina, falls were magnificent! The air turns crisp, the leaves blaze with color, the air smells different, and as far as I was concerned, the stifling heat and humidity of summer were on their way out.

In a few areas out here you can sometimes find a few trees that turn color and occasionally the air can get crisp, but that happens mostly in the more wealthy neighborhoods that actually have trees! Still, it's a gyp. Here's a wonderful description of a N.C. fall.

I just bought the Peanuts Holiday Special DVD box set that includes the Halloween, Thanksgiving and Xmas TV specials. Oddly, I find it tough to watch them at times, in particular the Halloween Special because it nails my childhood perception of what fall should really look like. Look out! Here comes a big old blast of melancholy!

Fall also reminds me of my days touring with Game Theory. Usually, we would tour in the fall and we would have the honor of seeing mind-blowing autumns in the rest of the country. Driving from N.Y. to Boston in late September is something I'll never forget. Just beautiful!

But as I get older and those dear (and frankly rose colored at times) memories of my childhood and my young man rock days grow more distant, the wistful melancholy somehow get stronger. I find myself getting overwhelmed by a sense of loss. It's been 8 years since I've played in a band and about 20 years since the excitement of what a new tour could bring. Game Theory's relative success was due primarily to college radio, so we played many college towns. Such young, fresh faces! And the leaves and air were wonderful.

I miss that, but I thank my lucky stars I got to experience it.

Matter of fact, there are times that I still miss the fun and camaraderie of hangin' and playing with a band. Within reason, of course! I still get a musical outlet by writing, playing, and recording my own songs, but it's so insular. While I certainly don't miss the time, energy and any other of the bad things that come with playing in a band, every now and then some event will happen that will quench my desire enough to give me some sort of....contentment.

In 2006, Scott Miller asked me to come to his home studio and do some percussion on a Cat Stevens song (I Think I See The Light) for his Loud Family and Anton Barbeau album "What If It Works?". Me being me, of course I got a bit stressed out and anxious, but I went and it was just plain wonderful. After dinner we went into the recording room and it was just me and Scott and before I knew it, I found that beautiful sense of connection with Scott that I really hadn't felt since the Game Theory days. I can get uncomfortable at times in such a one-on-one situation, but this was magic! All I did was just shake and hit a couple of percussive instruments but we just....connected. That's what it was like! That's what it should always be like!

More recently, my good friends The Bye Bye Blackbirds just released a new album entitled Houses And Homes, that I got to play percussion (and a wee bit-o-synth!) on.
I've done this many times for them, and it fills me with such joy to be involved with them and to contribute what I can. As always, I get a tad anxious before I get there, but once I'm in the studio, that nice and warm feeling of camaraderie and friendship immediately takes over and I have a great time. Aside from Scott, this is the only band that could get me to leave my hermit like existence to actually get out there and make great music with people I love being around. It's a blessing.

I love being around these guys. They're way younger than I am and I find their enthusiasm for all things music exhilarating, be it for the songs, recording, playing, musical gear and even putting trumpet in some of their songs! (Bill Swan - rock trumpet genius).

The album is fantastic. Once you buy it, be sure to listen to it all the way through. Actually, let it play and then immediately hit replay and just marvel at how the end dovetails so nicely with the intro to the first song. Great songwriting (from many of the members), great production (some of the most crisp and gorgeous electric guitar I've ever heard) and a rave-up cover of an Everly Bros. song (It Only Costs A Dime) that I swear sounds like Phil Specter got out of jail and produced. (wait....is he in jail?)
Here's more info you will need to get this album

So maybe fall isn't so bad after all. I'm now looking forward to watching the Great Pumpkin disappointing Linus so damned much. And Charlie Brown - a rock ain't such a bad thing after all.

"We Are Love" update

2008-09-26T21:31:00.000-07:00

I've gotten most of the lead guitar stuff down on tape, and I'm pretty excited about it! There's a rather lengthy lead break (for me, at least), and it came together just fine. Most of it is kind of a big, delayed, and hopefully melodic thing, done on my Gibson SG. There is a one measure (!) blazing scale/run in the middle of it that I had to drop in separately. That took me about 25 minutes to get right. It stands out pretty well because I recorded it dry, with no delay at all. Recording this at low volume came out well.

Recording the distorted and (hopefully) BIG rhythm guitars did not turn out so well, but I have neither the gumption, or the money to rent a studio and crank my Fender Princeton amp to where it should be to get a good sound. Ideally, you should hear the fullness of the amp, the...wood ("he said...wood") of the guitar and the echo of the room. Recording at such a low volume, you're basically hearing a great guitar played through electricity. Not a great sound, really. But there it is....

Surprisingly, I will not put any keyboards or synth or samples on this particular tune. Just a wall of guitars, bass and drums and vocals. Need to mix things up a bit. Also need to clear my lungs out a bit before I start doing the vocals.

Wrasslin' The Bastard

2008-09-20T19:24:00.000-07:00

Aaaarrrgh!!!!!

Yep...Gil must have been doing bass tracks today..but I may have a decent track down, on my new song We Are Love. I'm not sure, though..I need to clear out my ears and head and try to listen to it without my usual "optimistic ears".(I once cracked up Kenny, the Loud Family's bass player by admitting that when we were in the studio I would get into my "defensive drumming" mode, which meant that I would play a bit more conservatively than I would like to, but I thought it would be best just to get through the song without any FU's. Sad but true!)

"Optimistic ears" is the recording mode I get into when I've played a part more times than I can stand and think I may have it down with just minimal FU's and tuning problems. I make my ears gloss over any little thing that would stop a real musician in his/her tracks. I'm neither that good or that patient, and since I've just spent the better part of my Saturday writing and recording this confounded bass part, my ears were primed to do their thing. Bottom line - it'll just have to do.

It wasn't an easy part to play. I seem to frequently steal ideas from the Rolling Stones (!) of all bands. They love sliding bass and/or guitar lines, and so do I. Not just little wimpy whole step slides - we're talking whole dang length-of-the-neck slides. Not easy on the fingers, especially if you're playing bass. And especially x 10 if you're playing my bass: The Bastard.

It's a Charvette, by Charvel. Sounds like some fancy French perfume, but it's a cheap bass that was preferred by heavy metal hair bands in the early 90's. I was looking for a bass and a co-worker told me that his bass player was looking to sell his for cheap ($100), and that I should come out to their rehearsal studio in Oakland and check it out.

Cool. No problem. Until I started to drive there.

It was dark and I was in my little silver Honda Civic. I have never in my life been that deep in ghetto-land. The directions took me to a "main" street that I had to follow for about 20 blocks. There were stop lights at every intersection. On every corner there were 10-25 of Oakland's finest home-boize giving me the big stare-down. Honda, don't fail me now! It didn't, and in spite of my fearful white-knuckle drive, nothing happened at all.

I finally found the rehearsal space. More like a compound, actually. There was a fence with razor wire around the whole building. I buzzed the buzzer, my buddy came out to let me in ("thank you!") and the dude with the bass came out and showed me The Bastard.

Apparently, he had a crazy girlfriend that went nutso on it with a pair of scissors. There were gouges and slash marks covering just about every inch of it. Oddly, this was now the 2nd guitar or bass that I knew that had a history of a crazy girlfriend carving out a little bit of rock and roll angst on some poor little instrument!

Anyway, it played ok. Way better than any of the several bass guitars I had been borrowing from friends to get through my recording projects. I bought it, covered it with stickers, and still have it, still use it, still curse it at every intonation problem that it has (which are many, but oddly, today I noticed that if I took out the drum track, the tuning sounded better (!) between the guitars and the bass. Must be some weird overtone from the reverb on the kick drum...). Swear to God, next lottery fantasy is a new bass. I hate The Bastard.

Digging Gold

2008-09-16T20:03:00.000-07:00

I am so glad I sold my stock holdings last Friday and bought all that gold! Speaking of gold, Scott Miller's take on the best of 1993 is pure gold.

Times Are Tough

2008-09-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, someone stole a bag of groceries from my wife. There was no threat of violence or anything like that, and the bag only had about $5.00 worth of bananas, plums, okra and tofu in it, but it was indeed stolen.

She had stopped next door at a large shopping complex to get her nightly fix of tapioca tea, but decided to stop in the grocery store and pick up some food. She then went to the tea shop, set her bag down and turned to the counter to pay for the drink. When she turned back around, her groceries were gone.

The very kind hearted man that runs the tea shop went looking for the culprits, but could not find them. On the way to her car, my wife told a security guard what had happened and he told her that people are now driving up to shoppers that are carrying bags of groceries in the parking lot and snatching their groceries before speeding off into the night.

This is the first time in all of my 52 years that I have had this happen to someone I know. Things are really getting pretty bad out there.

"We Are Love" Guitar riffs and Drum beats

2008-09-07T12:35:00.000-07:00

I have started work on the song We Are Love and it's progressing nicely! The drum and rhythm guitar tracks are done and on tape.

It's a long song that relies heavily on a middle section groove-thing with an extended lead guitar "solo". Since I'm not a good enough guitarist to just lay down mighty slabs of spontaneous and blistering improvisation, I had to work out the solo in advance, tape it on my tiny micro cassette recorder and learn the darn thing note for note. It came out pretty well, though. Muy caliente!

I had to figure all of this out before I could program the drum machine. I had to know exactly how many measures the solo was going to be. I have been burned pretty bad in the past when I miscalculated the measures and ended up having to finesse, in a fairly clunky way, a solo to fit the space I had already put on tape. Yes...I'm far too lazy to re-do the drum programming...

I thought it would be fun to make a quick and informal mp3, explaining how I come up with drum beats to go with the guitar riffs that make up the basis of this song. Of course it turned out to be a hellishly complicated and time consuming process, but I went for it anyway. I'm sure there's an easier way. Scripting it out might help. Jeez, I sound like a dork.

This is the mess I made yesterday to make this little ol' mp3 Hope you enjoy it!

Wake me when it's over.

2008-09-05T18:58:00.000-07:00

Palin's "pole" numbers

I just don't think I can do politics anymore.

Mom

2008-09-02T21:18:00.001-07:00

Note: This post is to be considered part of my ongoing life in music series even though there is nothing about music in here. I'm including it because this event directly put things in motion that would send me along on various paths that would indeed shape my musical future. Some of these roads were wonderful and fun, and some were not so wonderful, but seemed fun at the time. But most importantly, I've been wanting to write this chapter for a very long time.

In the spring of 1979 my mother died. Unlike my dad’s sudden death, we had advanced warning that her esophageal cancer would be terminal.

Mom started to have a series of health issues from around the mid 70's, namely stomach ulcers and appendicitis. She drank and smoked way too much, and had major stress anxieties. So do I, but at least there is better chemistry out there to help folks like me that just have a rough time of dealing with it all.

I learned of her emergency appendectomy while my girlfriend and I were vacationing in San Francisco. I think I got a call from one of my sibs who told me of the event, but also learned that the surgery went well and there was no need to cut short my west coast trip. What I did do before I returned to Charlotte was to remove my shiny new earring stud from my ear lobe knowing that it would upset mom. If she wasn’t ill, I would have kept it in and dealt with it upon my return, but since she was sick, I felt it was the right thing to do.

Unfortunately, her stomach disorders continued and she was back in the hospital for more tests. This time she was diagnosed with cancer. She called me from the hospital to tell me the news. (at this point it was just her, Caesar the dog, and myself living together). I hung up the phone and fell apart. I fell apart in a big way. For days. I was just so frightened for her, and I was alone.

The doctors decided that possibly, there was a surgical way to remove the cancer. It would be a major operation that would essentially remove the diseased tissue and replace it with tissue taken from somewhere else. I don’t remember if any synthetic tubing was a possibility...it may have been.

The surgery was scheduled and it was going to take several hours for the procedure. My brother and sister (and maybe their spouses) and I sat in the hospital waiting room hoping for the best, but once the surgeon came down about 45 minutes after it began, we knew something was wrong. Basically, they opened her up and saw that it was a hopeless situation - the cancer was everywhere. They then closed her back up.

Once she recovered and was sent home, it was time for me to get my ass in gear and be strong. Basically, I was now her hospice worker. I knew she was dying and I would be the guy to hopefully help her get through this the best I could. I think that my...mourning had been done upon the news of the diagnosis. I was now ready to give something back to my mom, other than the disagreements and fighting that seemed to have defined our relationship. It was a very contentious way of life, but that was to end. I was about to get schooled in a most profound way. For once, even though it took the presence of death and dying, I was on the verge of learning a mind-blowing fact about the character of my mom, and the character of myself. It was heavy shit.

Up until then, I think I thought of my mom as being weak - the way she coped with my dad’s death, my sibs moving on, and of raising a rebel hellion (me) by herself. She was drinking too much and seemingly always having a petty argument with me about things that I deemed stupid and superficial - hair, clothes, appearances, girlfriends, friends, my music. These threatened her. What would the neighbors think? What would my grandfather think? How was I going to earn a living playing music? How would I build a comfortable future and prepare for a reasonable retirement that was so sought after, yet obtainable in the upper middle class values of that time? (Of course now, retirement is a pipe dream and as far as my hair goes...well, nature won that argument!) I fought these issues hard. I just could not see the relevance. She was wrong. She thought I was wrong. Neither of us gave an inch.

I did do the right thing when I quit Skyline. I had to be at home to help mom. In the following few months before mom passed away, I learned some life changing things that I was oblivious to at the time. It wasn’t until around 15 years later that the most valuable lesson sunk in to my mind and my heart. I actually didn’t think I could even put it into words until the last year or so, due to the reflections on my life I’ve written about in this blog.

What I now realize is that not only was my mom just trying to protect me, but she was undoubtedly the strongest person I have ever known.

Cancer of the esophagus is not a fun way to die. It should be a painful and horrific event on the human body. In the few months that I was alone with her, not once did my mom ever let me see her in pain. The only moment that came close was one day she was walking towards me in the hallway, winced a little, clutched her stomach and then turned around and walked back into her bedroom. That was it. I think my brother told me years later that she even refused to take most of her pain medication that was prescribed for her. I really was expecting the worst, but her inner strength spared me most of the trauma that I thought was inevitable. She was protecting me - her youngest child, with courage, strength and compassion. I now know this. My mom wasn’t weak at all. My mom was the strongest person I have ever known. Tough lesson to have learned so far after the fact, but it’s there now, and it is unshakable. In dying, she gave me more than she will ever know.

Mom died a few days after all of our family and her grandchildren visited one last time. She collapsed in the front yard, went into the hospital and was gone in a matter of days. A nurse called and told us that we should come in. We knew what was up. We went to the hospital and the nurse told us she passed away in her sleep. We went to her room and she was lying in her bed. I’d never seen a dead person before - my mom gave me a choice about seeing my dad in his open casket and I gratefully declined, but here she was, with no life left in her. I bent down and told her that I loved her and kissed her on the forehead.

The other day, my boss asked me if I missed my parents. My dad has been gone for so long and died when I was so young, it’s hard for me to think about missing him. But I also find it hard to miss my mother. She’s there in the mirror every single day - and unfortunately, at present, I just see her anxieties, her inability to cope, her drinking, and her smoking. I just hope to the high heavens that someday I will be able to see just a fraction of the strength that she so compassionately and courageously showed me.

Rest in peace, mom. I now know that you did the best you could. Thanks.

Judged!

2008-08-29T18:13:00.000-07:00

Damn. What a week!

My assistant at work was on vacation so I was the receiving dept. It's been scary-slow lately, but business has picked up mightily and I was slammed all week long.

I was also sick. As much as I worry about getting...really sick (disease, death etc...), I hardly ever just get sick. Stacey is amazed at my immune system. I think my immune system is so good due to cigarettes and beer and worry - it kills germs dead! Truly, I don't think I've had a cold or flu in about 8 years or so, but this cold got me and got me real good. So on top of being slammed at work, I did it all with probably 3 or 4 hours of the most un-restful sleep you could imagine, each night.

I also had jury duty. I frantically called the clerk at the Superior Court Of Alameda County, trying to postpone my duty. No receiving at work = no shipping at work. No one else can do the job with my assistant gone. She said that no matter what, I had to appear, but it might be helpful if I faxed a letter, and bring a letter from my boss.

I did both. The judge strung me out until lunchtime and then tongue lashed me. (hardship at work is not an acceptable excuse, just hardship personally). I was honest and told her that it wasn't a hardship on me, but work would be paralyzed. She asked the 2 attorneys, they had no objection, so they let me go. This does not count as serving on a jury. She was very clear that I would be receiving another summons "soon".

There was a $35 parking ticket flapping wildly underneath my windshield wipers as I returned to my car.

Oh, and by the way, it was a murder case in Oakland. Surprise.

Democract Corn, And I Don't Care (not really, but clever header, huh?)

2008-08-27T19:03:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I subject myself to watching so much of the Democratic Convention. It's goofy, it's weird, it's...like watching any event now, be it sports, pageants, whatever. Every event is now a rock concert with bigger than life graphics blinding me on the giant screens. It is appropriate (gag) rock music being assigned and played for every single moment or speaker. It is just so.... stupid, degrading and big. I blame MTV.

But I end up transfixed. I also seem to end up in tears. Not for the sadness I should feel for what our world has become, but for ideals I developed many years ago. When I see Ted Kennedy bravely battling brain cancer, yet making the trip to Denver to speak, I cry. His eventual demise will truly mean the death of the 60's political and cultural ideals that shaped me so profoundly. Not all of the rich and privileged are bad. Some actually help the poor.

I cried during Hillary's speech, not because I'm a big fan, but I felt the pain of many women who were so optimistic that this might be the year a woman could be president. Of course the media insists on playing up the asshole angle of her fans that say they will vote for McCain etc... Screw them both.

Bill Clinton just gave his speech and I cried because he is undoubtedly the finest political speaker in modern times. God I miss him! No one can top him in that department. Pure inspiration shown with intelligence, knowledge and understanding. We as a nation were way better off when he was president. He is kind of strange, though. He looks and acts like a cartoon at times, but he can bust a speech and inspire.

That's all.

What The World Needs Now!

2008-08-21T19:11:00.000-07:00

I'm happy to announce that work has commenced on my next "album": Tone X - the sound of love..

The world is in need of some love, and I'm gonna try to do my part in spreading the word. It's another concept album, as was my first album - I Am Atomic Man!. The reason being is that as a limited songwriter, I need....focus and boundaries, or I would just sit there wondering what the hell I was going to write about.

After the last Loud Family tour, I was determined to do a solo album at home, on very low rent equipment. I was talking this over with Stacey, and after I confessed to her that I had no idea what to write about, she smartly (as expected) suggested that I write about a subject I know about and enjoy. Well, I love 50's pulp science fiction and that opened the door in a grand way. (funny, though - take away the sci-fi decorations and what I ended up writing about was basically my inner demons and experiences!) Regardless, it was the perfect solution.

For this one, I got the germ of the idea from my friends Bradley and Gina, asking if I would be interested in maybe coming up with a song or two for their after-wedding party. Thrilled, I went for it! I had a couple musical ideas floating around in my head, and now I had the subject matter!

The lyrics came quickly, I practiced the 2 songs for weeks, and very nervously, actually performed them solo at the bash. That was a huge accomplishment for me. Never in my life had I done such a thing! It went over pretty well (of course it helped that the audience were mostly friends). I still can't believe that I actually did it.

The next idea that I came upon was a title for the next album. Not too long ago, I asked Mitch Easter what was responsible for that very groovy, buzzy and distorted bass sound the Rolling Stones used so much on their earlier albums. He mentioned that early Vox bass amps actually had a "Tone X" knob that was more or less a distortion control. I immediately fell in love with the phrase, and I'm pretty sure that I mentioned to Stacey later that night, that "Tone X" had to be the name of my next album. It's just awesome on so many levels!

It wasn't long after that, that I realized I already had 2 songs about Love already written, so I merged the two concepts together and came up with the present title. I also have a third tune (lyric-less) recorded, so I feel I'm on my way !

I plan to write about my recording struggles as I progress. I also will be providing a couple of...crude multi-media examples of the experience. Please stay tuned.

Disco Danger and Sad Goodbyes

2008-08-17T13:40:00.001-07:00

Jennetta lasted about a month and a half with Skyline. She just wasn’t a very good singer, entertainer or even very good looking. I feel like a jerk saying that last thing, but we were paid to do all of that and she didn’t cut the mustard. She also had some attitude that was starting to wear on the band. After a brief discussion with our agents, she was fired.

It was a good decision - her replacement(s) were awesome! Before I joined Skyline, they had a young, talented and extremely good looking married couple named Scott and Danya B. They handled most of the vocal chores in the band. Scott B. also played rhythm guitar and both of them could flat-out sing their asses off. They were now back and I was thrilled to have them on board.

****Weird! Strange! Uncanny! They were the first real couple I ever played with (John and Pam’s affair in Rhapsody does not count!), and who woulda thought I would end up some 8 years later playing with another couple that could also sing their asses off named...Scott and Donny? Scott and Danya...meet Scott and Donny! Whoa!.....****

They were very young and occasionally things could get a bit volatile between the two. This didn’t bother me at all. By then I had dealt with girlfriends, affairs, couples, whatever...I learned to just go with it and to try and play great shows. This would of course be tested many years and many bands later, but at that time I was not bothered at all. The minor distractions were nothing compared to the pleasure of hearing those two sing together, night after night. Now, Skyline was overloaded with good voices - we had 4 sets of pipes that could easily sing lead, so my vocals were cut back, but I was fine with that. Let the professionals handle it!

There are only three particular moments that stand out in my memory of this version of the band. Unfortunately, my gig list and financial records end in December of 1978, but I know we played a bit longer than that. In looking through those records I now see that even though I was enticed into the band by their offer of an equal share of the profits, I only averaged about $101 a week. This was less than Rhapsody, but by the time I left the band, it was of no consequence at all. I enjoyed this line-up very much.

Skyline played a private party on Halloween night for a very cool record store in Charlotte called New World Records. This was a 2 store “chain” and by far the best record stores in town. They were locally owned and a perfect alternative to the other record stores such as The Record Bar, Grapevine etc...My girlfriend worked at the main store on Independence Blvd., and eventually I would end up working at the South Blvd. store.

The Halloween party was held at the “Top Of The Tower” - a ritzy place located in Charlotte’s tallest (at the time) downtown skyscraper. Since it was a Halloween party, we decided it would be appropriate and fun to perform in costume. Being serious musicians, we didn’t put a whole lot of thought into it, so we ended up at my mom’s house to raid the attic for fun stuff to wear. Here are a few pics from the resulting attic raid. I think it was probably the only time a black man ever picked me up and held me in his arms.
Don’t remember much about the show, but I think a good time was had by all. I made $45 that night.

The second event I remember regarding the Scott & Danya line-up was a very memorable show in Ronceverte, West Virginia, at the “Almost Heaven Supper Club”. The club was a strange place - off the beaten track and it had a...”roadhouse” feel to it. Very Twin Peaks ( the building and the people inside!). It was a 2 night gig and the final night on December 1, 1978 was a night I’ll never forget.

The evening started out a bit slow, but things were starting to pick up during our last set. The dance floor was buzzing (along with the patrons - we were pretty sure the club owner was the local coke dealer) and everyone was having just a good ol’ disco time. After we announced that we were getting ready to play the last song of the night, the club owner came up to us and told us that he’d give us another $100 if we played another 30 minutes. We immediately agreed and kept our boogie shoes on for the extra ½ hour. Money talks!

The club owner was a strange fellow, maybe in his late 20's, with long straight bangs (very redneck). He had a limp that required him to walk with a cane, and he wore a very...creepy leisure suit. He had a this gangster/ big dog thing going on; surrounded by lackeys, probably coked out and kind of mean looking, but he seemed nice enough.

When the show was finally over, Scott P. went over to the table where the owner was sitting to settle up with the money. The rest of us were packing our gear up when suddenly shit hit the fan. The club owner stood up, threw his table over, stepped back and pulled a knife on Scott and screamed: “Are you trying to screw me out of money? I’ll cut you and your g*ddamn n*gger!! Get the f*ck out of my club!! " Holy crap.

Scott P. was bit of a hard head when it came to money and business and he was not one to back down. He stood up and screamed back at the club owner that he owed us the extra $100. William (our black bass player) gingerly approached the scene and did his best to calm everyone down. Brave man, William. Fortunately the screaming stopped, we got paid (minus the promised bonus), loaded our trailer and got the holy hell out of there. We drove straight to Charlotte, not even stopping to change drivers. When Scott got too tired to drive, I went up front and we changed seats as the van was barreling down the highway. I slid under him and grabbed the wheel as he slid over me, relinquishing the driver's seat. Not recommended, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time. We had to get the hell out of West Virginia and this decidedly Twin Peaks/David Lynch nightmare. This was the South at it’s worst, and we saw it up front and personal. I cannot imagine what William must have gone through.

The last thing I recall about Skyline was also unpleasant, but not nearly as frightening.. We were playing at the Greenville S.C. Sheraton for 2 weeks (Rhapsody’s old favorite lounge), and on our last night there, I called for a band meeting. I announced to the band that this was my last show with them. My mom was dying.

After I told them this, I left them to themselves and went back to my room. About 20 minutes later, Danya knocked at my door and I let her in. It was obvious she had been crying. She told me she was not only sad for my circumstance, but she was angry that after I left the room, the rest of the band started to discuss hiring another drummer. I was fine with that - Skyline was a business, but to this day, I appreciate Danya’s concern.
*****
note: a few years after I left the band, I was saddened by the news that Sammy B., Skyline’s keyboardist was killed in a car crash. He was a fun, talented, good guy. I’m very glad that I had a chance to know him and to have made music with him. Even if it was disco... R.I.P. Sammy.

Yawn....

2008-08-14T19:59:00.000-07:00

Remember when the Olympics meant something and were way more exciting?

I'm soooo not interested at this point. Bunch of petty nationalistic crap. What's even worse...No Tonya
Best to stay focused. The Left are being murdered by the Right. Georgia vs Russia is a set up. Russia best leave North Carolina alone. Crazy world right now. Pay attention.

A Hole In Our Hearts

2008-08-11T20:08:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, August 3, Mynya Giballawinsky passed away.

Mynya was one of the very first friends Stacey made when she moved to San Francisco in 1989. She met him at Tower Records, where both of them worked. He was 70 years old when he died.

I did not know him very well, he was Stacey's friend, but I did meet him and ran in to him on occasion. His life's story is an amazing journey. He lost his parents and his brother during World War II. He survived a Nazi concentration camp. He came to America as a child and was adopted. He eventually ended up in California.

The only memory that I have of Mynya goes back to when Stacey and I lived at Robert and Shelley's house over on Taylor Street in Albany. Stacey and Mynya came by, and I was in the backyard. As they walked towards me I was overwhelmed with an...aura that seemed to surround Mynya. I'm not a very..higher consciousness oriented kind of guy but I immediately got a sense of peace and gentleness from Mynya that I have never felt before. I swear, he seemed to...glide above the ground towards me. The most gentle soul I have ever known.

He had multiple health problems and couldn't get around very easily, so he had asked Stacey if she could bring him a large supply of Dr. Pepper (!) on Monday, August 4. We went to a store and got several cases, came home and there was a message on the answering machine. His caretaker/roommate asked that Stacey call - it was about the following day's planned visit.

Stacey called and got the news. Mynya had passed away peacefully in his sleep the night before.

Rest in peace Mynya, you made the world a better place. You overcame a horrible childhood, but your soul was never broken and you enriched all of our lives. Stacey has a big hole in her heart right now, but she'll be OK. She is a better person because of you. We all are. Thanks for the enrichment. We love you.

Jack Be Nimble (the voice! the voice!)

2008-08-02T17:13:00.000-07:00

I love Jack Bruce. I love his music and I especially love his voice. He is my very favorite rock singer, ever. His voice is strong and powerful. It can also get quiet and delicate. The voice can slide, reach and hit some pretty challenging notes. It can also layer thick gorgeous clouds of harmonies.

Most folks know of Jack as the fiery Scotsman that played bass, wrote songs and sang with Cream. That's were I discovered him upon the release of Cream's "Sunshine Of Your Love" back in 1967. Been in love ever since!

He was classically trained as a cellist and had roots in jazz and blues. His bass playing is like his voice - very powerful, very loud and always challenging. I love his playing. It was the perfect bottom for Cream, though that band had one of the most contentious histories (musically and personality-wise) of any band I have ever read about! I just read that back in the Cream days, Ginger Baker once tried to shove a fire extinguisher up Jack's bum. Don't know if that's true or not, but ill feelings still exist between those two, even rearing it's ugly head during the 2005 Cream reunion.

I have the reunion concert dvd, and while I was a bit shaken with Jack's frail looks (he was still recovering from a liver transplant), I was amazed at how great his voice still is. I actually thought it sounded better than most of the recordings I had heard of Jack from the 80's and the 90's.

Most all of the songs I'm presenting here were co-written with Pete Brown, whose specialty was very trippy lyrics that helped define Cream. Hell....helped define me.

1. "As You Said" (1968, from Cream's Wheels Of Fire LP) - A weird and beautiful song that really shows Jack's classical background. Lovely cello and a great arrangement. I'm guessing that some would be surprised that this was a Cream song.

2. "Doing That Scrapyard Thing" (1969, from Cream's Goodbye Cream LP) - A very playful tune that always makes me smile. This sounds very Beatle influenced, probably due to George Harrison hanging around the studio to play on Clapton's fantastic "Badge".

3. "Theme From An Imaginary Western" (1969, from Jack's first solo LP - Songs For A Tailor) - this is an amazing LP! This tune is very Procul Harum sounding to me, and Jack plays everything except for guitar (Chris Spedding) and drums (Jon Hiseman). Could be my favorite vocal performance of all time. It's such a great song! Mountain covered it on their debut album. (Mountain featured the late Felix Pappalardi who was Cream's primary producer)

4. "Tickets To Waterfalls" (1969, same as above) - Another great vocal performance on a song that had to be a bitch to sing! Check out the melody....his jazz roots really taking hold here.

5. "Boston Ball Game 1967" (1969, same as above) - Speaking of jazz roots...not only do you get one great vocal performance, howzabout 2 Jacks at once! According to the book I'm reading, Jack wrote this in response to a very unpleasant time Cream had in Boston on one of their tours.

6. "Folk Song" (1971, from Jack's second solo LP - Harmony Row) - Jack gets down with his falsetto in this pretty strange tune. When Stacey heard this album, she noted that she couldn't remember ever hearing music like this. For some reason, I think my ex-Loud Family mate - Alison Faith Levy might enjoy this particular style of writing.

7. "A Letter Of Thanks" (1971, same as above) - a powerhouse jazz fusion thing that works for me. Jazz timing linked with primordial rock riffage.

8. "Pollution Woman" (1972, from West, Bruce & Laing's Why Dontcha LP) - This is one of the strangest songs I've ever heard. I immediately recognize Leslie West's guitar sound, but the production and song are both out of left field. A great sampling of Jack's vocal harmony weirdness.

9. "Peaces Of Mind" (1974, from Jack's third solo album - Out Of The Storm) - disjointed but marvellous. Steve Hunter on guitar and Jim Gordon on drums. Great bass playing and of course, a great vocal track.

10. "Into The Storm" (1974, same as above) - wonderful harmonies and a difficult piece.

Here's the link to all of this. I admit that it may be a lot of Jack to take in at one sitting, so if you find yourself getting a bit worn out, please..just listen to a few at time. I hope you are rewarded as much as I have been, putting this together!

The voice of Jack muxtape

Thanks for the voice and the music, Jack. You lift my heart.

...Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

2008-07-31T18:39:00.000-07:00

I feel bad that I have not been blogging much lately. It's funny that my clever catch-phrase for the Po'buckra blog is "an unsettling look at nowsville". Very little of what I feel like writing about is about "nowsville". To be honest, not much good is going on for me at the moment. Stuff kinda sucks actually, but I got friends, music, movies and the most wonderful and beautiful wife on the planet, so I'll get through this eventually.

I do find it therapeutic to write about my past, though. I've been very fortunate to have had such wonderful and creative times with all of the bands I've been in. It's been a blast writing this stuff down! I enjoy the hell out of the nice responses I've gotten from readers. I was a bit shocked when I discovered that my brother had signed on and subscribed to the MySpace blog, but he's digging it ("quite and education!"). Not so sure that my sister would enjoy it so much, though!

The "my life in music" blog is coming to a very critical point in my life. I've got one more "disco days" post to make and it's gonna lead into some pretty heavy shit, and I have decided to go ahead and write about it. Some of it will have little to do with music - after the disco bands I didn't play with anyone up until Jamie reformed the Happy Eggs during Charlotte's punk/new wave..."explosion". From there, I consider my history in bands as current, even though it was 28 years ago!

Up until then all of this has been very distant, ancient and even abstract. Most of the people that crossed my musical path are long gone from my life and I've never really worried too much about some of these folks ever reading any of this stuff. But with this new fangled Internet thing, you never know!

1980 leads me into what I consider more...delicate territory. I'll deal with it when I get there, but it calls for a bit more finesse on my part. I certainly don't want anyone to feel concerned that I may write something that may come up and bite me (or them) on the ass.
Should be an interesting dance.

So, please bear with me....ultimately I need to define who the hell I really am.

Speaking of the past....I've been reading Dave Thompson's book on my all time fave band: Cream. What (brilliant) arseholes! And what the hell is up with Clapton's......pants? (actually, the "armadillo in the pants" is briefly discussed in the book. He thought the chicks would dig it).

1977 All Over Again!

2008-07-23T17:51:00.000-07:00

How timely! Scott Miller has been posting his thoughts regarding what he thinks the best songs were for each year, from 1957 - 2006. Scott's definitely a list type of guy and I eat 'em up. I love hearing his thoughts on music.

His last post was about 1977. That was my first year playing disco music with Rhapsody. Good Lord what contrasts! Not that disco music was ever my favorite kind of music - I was very much still into...players music (pretentious) such as Weather Report, Return To Forever and Steely Dan, but I find it really interesting in reading about that other music from the same era.

I sort of knew about punk rock and such at the time, but I don't think I actually heard it until 2 or 3 years later (thanks to Jamie Hoover). It was then that I went over to the dark side and got enlightened.

Check it out - it's a good read!

Scott Miller's best of 1977 here

DISCO DELIVERANCE!

2008-07-12T14:17:00.000-07:00

Skyline’s 2nd engagement was a 2 week stint at the Ambassador Inn, in Johnson City, Tennessee. I remember....parts of it well...

The Ambassador Inn was a disco club out in the sticks. Actually, most of Johnson City is in the sticks, but this was a stand-alone club not associated with a hotel. Nice big dance floor, good lights, booming sound system, and a very cool staff. Matter of fact, they had a woman bartender (babe) that had the very first nose-ring I had ever seen. This was in 1978, and it blew my mind a bit. The bad news was that there was a very predominate sign posted on a column near the dance floor that stated in big bold letters: “NO SAME SEX DANCING!” It was the first and only time in all of my years playing in clubs that I saw such a sign. I was confused. The babe bartender was a lesbian with a nose ring, our band was racially integrated, but "NO SAME SEX" couples can dance together. Weird! Whatever....(actually, it probably wasn’t until the early 80's that I would finally “get it” that lots of gays went to discos and danced together. It just wasn’t on my radar back then. Especially in the South. And ultra-especially in Johnson City, Tennessee).

In the course of the first week I met this marvelous young (and cute) couple (straight) and we quickly became friends. This was unusual for me - with Rhapsody, most of our audience were older and...(occasionally) a tad...creepy, but this couple was my age and very cool. We had a day off coming up and they invited me on a guided tour of the backwoods of Johnson City. They had a jeep and told me they would show me the real deal. Sounds a little sketchy, but I trusted them and decided that I needed to see the world, so I agreed.

This was an important to me - my girlfriend was always stressing the fact that I needed to travel, see new places and pick up new experiences. She and her sister traveled a lot together, be it in Europe or the States. The only traveling I had really ever done was with the family at vacation time (which was usually limited to Pawley’s Island S.C., or our mountain place near Cashiers N.C.). Sure, I had certainly been to a lot of cities with the disco bands, but generally that just involved driving from Point A to Point B and staying confined to the hotel area. We never explored the territory - just hung out in our rooms sleeping, learning songs and when possible, rehearsing in the clubs during the off hours. Now I had a chance to do something exciting and to finally see the world. National Geographic....here I come!

It was awesome. The couple picked me up early one morning and we headed out. Took back roads, dirt roads and trails. The mountains and scenery were breathtaking. As we got further into..nature..things got very interesting, and two things stand out in my memory.

We drove by an old beat-down impoverished house trailer just like the photos I would see in magazines or on TV, and I kid you not, in the front “yard” was a tire swinging from a tree. Sitting on the swinging tire was a young lady that I swear to God was the spitting image of Elly May Clampett or Daisy Mae from Li’l Abner - take your pick. Cut-off shorts and a polka dot shirt tied in a bow just above her waist. I could not believe my eyes. It was the real thing and she even waved as we drove by! At that moment I knew I was seeing something most people only see in the funny papers or on TV, but this was real! It blew my mind. There is a big old world out there and I was now realizing that the ‘burbs of Charlotte were just a tiny little speck. I had seen and met mountain folk during visits to my family’s mountain cabin, but this resonated. I was not shielded by parents or seeing things through a child's eyes. I was seeing this stuff on my own terms, with people my age.

As we went further up the mountain, my new friends told me that we may come across some...moonshiners and to just act friendly, wave and we’d be on our way. It was interesting to learn that most of these folks were not making white lightnin’ any more - they had a new cash crop - pot. This was a bit unsettling to me (not sure why..) but at this point I was dialed in to my adventure. Sure as shit, we came across some of these folks.

Up ahead on a dirt trail we saw 2 men. Real hillbillies dressed in overalls, tattered hats and most importantly - real shotguns slung over their shoulders. Holy crap! They heard our approach, looked back at us. We waved, they waved and we went on our way. How cool is that! Of course in the back of my mind I was half way expecting them to kill my new friends, kidnap me, and eventually make me squeal like a pig as they took turns having their way with me, but that didn’t happen. Maybe these hillbillies had seen the "NO SAME SEX DANCING!" sign as well.

The rest of our journey was uneventful, but I was pumped with excitement and I couldn’t wait to get home to tell my girlfriend what I had done and seen with my own two eyes. I don’t remember a thing about our shows at the club (who would?), other than the fact that I made $350 for the 2 week engagement. But big changes were coming and things were about to get very weird.

Two Nightmare Images From My Past Are Gone...

2008-07-04T14:08:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I don't know which image frightened me more as a child.

I'm not alone in my opinion that clowns are scary. While I'm sure Larry Harmon was a good man and meant well, his persona as Bozo the Clown gave me nightmares. I think the combination of make-up, maniacal grin and the shock of red hair looked more like a disguise to me. A way to go undetected as he hid under my bed at night, patiently waiting for me to fall asleep so he could drag me under the bed and start chewing the flesh off of my bones.

Jesse Helms on the other hand, stood for everything that was wrong to me as a liberal, long-haired hippie rock n' roll musician in the early 70's. The first 26 years of my life were spent in North Carolina, so I had a lot of up-close knowledge of his hateful politics. While I'm also sure that he'll be missed by his family and loved ones, his politics will not be missed. His policies and campaign tactics also hid underneath my bed at night, waiting to gnaw on my soul and to eat the heart out of everything that should be good, fair and tolerant. Things that this country should stand for. You know...freedom and democracy...stuff like that.

LP Sales Up 36% ! Damage Claims Up 500% !

2008-07-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, the resurgence of the LP has hopefully given me a tad more job security, and indeed, we are still selling tons of 'em. The downside is that they do not travel well. I now spend most of my time at work filing damage claims.

But at least I have work.

Here's something that cracked me up, regarding the LP phenomenon.
Here's what the experts are saying

Rock. Hard.

2008-06-28T20:20:00.000-07:00

Is this my version of a hot red sports car? Ever since I retired from the Loud Family after our last tour in 2000, I find that I just can’t get enough of old school Hard Rock. Could this be a way to deal with a mid-life crisis? Maybe. But I’m lovin’ it and while I had many of these records when they came out, I have been going back and either rediscovering bands I wasn’t into at the time, or discovering bands that passed me by.

I was very surprised that out of the 8 tracks (how appropriate! 8 - track !) I’m offering here, ½ are from 1970. I was 14 years old then and while I do indeed remember getting some of these records that long ago, I think I must have acquired most of them a couple of years later. Some of them I got recently - in the last 5 years or so.

Fire up your Bic and shake your hair (if you still got it) - It’s time to Rock. Hard.

1. Blue Cheer - “Come And Get It” from the LP Outsideinside released in 1968. Forget about flower power for now - this stuff is scary and aggressive. I can’t think of any other band from that era that assaulted my eardrums as much as these guys. And this track is from their more...refined 2nd album! According to the hype, much of this record was recorded outside in Sausalito Ca. just because they were so loud! Whatever, but this song kicks hippie butt. I specifically remember my dad taking me to Eckerd Drugs in Charlotte and letting me pick out a record. I picked this one, probably due to the album artwork more than anything else, but I still love it very much. Wonder if Kurt Cobain was a fan?

2. Bubble Puppy - “Lonely” from the LP A Gathering Of Promises and also released as the b-side to their awesome single "Hot Smoke And Sassafras" in 1969. I love the single and heard it on the radio quite a bit back in the day (funny - Jamie Hoover loved it too, and we tried our best to cover it in the Happy Eggs in the early 80's, but couldn’t quite make it work in a New Wave/Punk context!). Anyway - while "Lonely" doesn’t really start out so hard, hang with it until the end to hear an absolutely mind blowing lead break. I actually saw these guys on American Bandstand!

3.Cactus - “Parchman Farm” from he LP Cactus released in 1970. This is a band that I rediscovered in the last 5 years or so. I saw them open up for Mountain (?) At Charlotte’s Park Center, but wasn’t much interested in them at the time. The rhythm section is Carmine Appice (drums) and Tim Bogert (bass) from the Vanilla Fudge. Could be the deadliest freight train of bass and drums on this planet. It’s interesting that they chose to do this Mose Alison tune 1 year after Blue Cheer recorded it for their debut album Vincebus Eruptum ! Serious smoke is blistering from my poor little computer speakers as I write this!

4. Mountain - “Never In My Life” from the LP Climbing! Released in 1970. Most folks are well aware of "Mississippi Queen", so I chose this song. Classic Hard Rock with their trademark cowbell once again propelling the crunch you hear. What drew me to this band was the involvement of Felix Pappalardi (producer, “musical director” and bass player). I knew of him from Cream. He produced all but one (Fresh Cream) of their LP’s. He sings a beautiful version of "Theme From An Imaginary Western" that is one of my very favorite songs written by Jack Bruce. This is a very solid album. (I’m still kicking myself for not attending a Mountain reunion show in San Francisco about a year ago! Jamie and Mitch Easter both highly recommended that I go, but...I didn’t...sigh..) Mr. Pappalardi was tragically murdered by his wife many years ago, but from what I've heard, Leslie West and Corky Laing (drums) are still gettin’ it done in a grand way.

5. Frijid Pink - “End Of The Line” from the LP Frijid Pink released in 1970. This is probably the newest discovery for me. I remember they had a pretty decent hit (#7 on Billboard) with their cover of "House Of The Rising Son" that year, but I never heard anything else by them until I got a reissue of their debut album about a year ago. The album isn’t all that good - some of the worst production and engineering I’ve ever heard, but they were from Detroit - the city that brought us The Stooges and MC5!

6. Wishbone Ash - “Queen Of Torture” from the LP Wishbone Ash released in 1970. Another recent discovery - I’m not sure I ever even heard this band until I got a greatest hits CD a couple of years ago. I knew of them, but we never crossed paths. Nice "Manic Depression" style beat, and plenty of dueling guitars that for better or for worse, would become a standard sound for many styles of Rock including Metal and Southern Rock.. I like the vocals a lot and this song moves.

7. Uriah Heep - “Love Machine” from the LP Look At Yourself released in 1971. Not sure why, but when I listen to these guys, I sort of chuckle. While they sometimes come off goofy to me (mainly due to the vocals), good heavens were they influential! They really helped set he standard for the Heavy Metal that was to come. Regardless, I think their first 3 or 4 albums are pretty great. Mindless boogie, but done well. I remember seeing them on Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert and was highly amused when the singer fell backwards against the drum riser and got his shirt caught on one of the tuning pegs on the kick drum. He couldn’t get up, so he finished the song sitting on he riser. Oh...so...Spinal Tap!

8. Pat Travers And Carmine Appice - “Evil” from the LP Bazooka released in 2005. Ok, this is definitely the ringer of the bunch, being such a recent recording, but I think this version could rock harder than any rock song I have ever heard. Seriously. On point - it is a cover of a cover recorded on the first Cactus LP of a song written by the fabulous Howlin’ Wolf. The guitar shreds and this is a mind blowing drum track by Mr. Appice. Nothing but power here, and while I don’t have my red sports car yet, this will do just fine.

Here are the songs - I hope you dig 'em!
A Place of Hard Rock Muxtape

Thanks for listening....but if none of this music blows your skirt up, there's always these guys: (Thanks to my pal Dan for turning me on to this incredible video!)