Sour Suite...

Don’t wanna listen to my telephone ring ring ring
Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing
Not this morning, not never ever,
Don’t wanna think about the night before
Or maybe it’s a bore behind an open door
Got no time for that this morning(oooohhh)
If I had the mind or I had the time
Maybe I could throw together a new kind of rhyme
And tell about my warning
But it’s too late now.
It's too late now.
It's too late now.

I don’t wanna think about a runaway dad
That took away the only thing that I never had
Don’t even miss him this morning
I don’t wanna think about a cold goodbye
Or a high school buddy got a little too high
I can’t help him out this morning
Reviewers laugh at me so I go out to sea
And perhaps it’s just as well cause I’d rather be in hell
Than be a wealthy man this morning
But it’s too late now.
It's too late now.
It's too late now.

Whatever happened to images cause now they’re gone
And worn-out phrases just keep a hangin’ on
Whatever happened to homes as opposed to houses
The conversation sinks as the evening drowses
It’s just like 46201.
It's just like 46201.

Whatever happened to early morning open skies
And broken faces, half with melting eyes
Enough of riddles that just play with time
Cause I’m still here and I can’t beg a dime
I’m back here in 46201.
I’m back here in 46201.

Something better's waiting for me around the corner now
I got to find it and try and hang on for a little while
I'm back here in 46201.
There's gotta be a few small changes made

Don’t wanna listen to my telephone ring
Or sing ding-a-ling or talk about a thing ...
Leave me alone this morning.

Pirate Radio and my Reality...

I'm a bit of an odd duck...

I know that some of you
may find that hard to believe
but there it is...

case in point
my relationship with music

I have had a soundtrack
running thru my life
right from an early age
all my most precious memories
are attached to music

I was born on July 28th 1955
tomorrow I turn 55

my first memories
are of the VOD playing the piano
and her and my fadder
singing at the top of their lungs

I remember songs like
Moon River
Waltzing Mathilda
Boogie Woogie Piano
Rock around the clock
Volare
Dream Lover

and then as time went on
the radio became my friend
Dream
Outta my Head
etc...

I remember the very first
45 record I ever saw...
Big Girls Don't Cry

when I was 9 and we moved
away from our extended family
I felt isolated
till the teenage boy next door
started singing
Mrs Brown to me

I survived my loneliness
by listening to music
music and books...
Aaron Neville's Tell it Like it is
Otis Redding Dock of the Bay
Bill Withers Grandma's Hands
The Guess Who - These Eyes

as time went on and I got older
I discovered rock
my very first album was
Paul McCartney's Ram On
and I still remember
all the words to Uncle Albert
I wore the grooves out of more
K-Tel albums than anyone
in my neighbourhood

and then I discovered rock and roll
and then metal

my families holidays revolved
around albums
Herb Albert's & the Tijuana Brass's
A Taste of Honey
Don Maclean's American Pie
Simon and Garfunkle's
Bridge over Trouble Waters
the Band Stage Fright

now days
I can very clear be rendered
to a time and location in my past
by music from that time

the other constant in my life
has been my "romantic" nature
not so much the concept of romance
between a man and a woman
although the occasional bodice ripper
doesn't suck

but the thought of "happily ever after"
has made me a melancholy sort
and meant that I've used melancholy music
to adjust my mood
most of my life

I love 70's rock n roll
Jethro Tull's Locomotive Breath
Jimi Hendrix All Along the Watchtower
Janis Joplin - Me n Bobby McGee
Elton John Tiny Dancer

I love metal
Metallica's Enter Sandman
Black Sabbath's Iron Man
Deep Purple Child in Time

I love the blues
Stevie Ray Vaughn's Riviera Paradise
Gary Moore's Still got the Blues
Alvin Lee's Bluest Blues

I love 80's pop
The Bangles Walk like and Egyptian
Bonnie Tyler Total Eclipse of the Heart
Billy Joel Uptown Girl

I love hair bands
Guns n Roses Welcome to the Jungle
Van Halen's Jamie's Crying

I've listened to Indie, Grunge,
Alternative, Rap, Hip Hop, Country,
and Classical

I love the sound
of Spanish style guitar
where even the sad songs
sound happy...
Gypsy Kings Bambeleo
Jesse Cook Gravity
Ottmar Liebert La Luna

I love chorals
Libera Salva Me
Perpetuum Jazzile - Africa
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir Handel's Halleujah

I love just about any kind of music

Enya's Watermark transports
me back to the day my paternal
Grandmother died...
just as if it was right this minute
and Oh Canada
makes me cry
every single time
I hear it
whether it's sung by 1 child
or 10, 000 hockey fans

some people say
that because I listen
to a lot of melancholy music
that I must really be depressed
all the time

but truly?

I revel in the memories
of life and death
as they come to me
in the sound of music

so
tonight
on the eve of my 55th birthday
I watched the movie Pirate Radio

not, I thought
for the story
but for the sound track

because I'd heard it was good...

I was seriously surprised
at the ending of this movie
and for reasons
beyond my ken
it move me to tears
not a little sniffle
but a full on sob...

so here's the odd duck part...

as a 55 yr old
I find that being moved to tears
is no longer something
to be embarrassed about

being moved to tears
is celebrating
a life well lived
and a hope
for 55 or 60 more

odd duck er not!

Bewitched...

remember Bewitched?

Elizabeth Montgomery as Samantha Stephens?

ya know how yer mind has a tendency to wander
when yer stuck in a laundromat
with a bunch of strangers
for a couple of hours?

everyone studiously ignoring each other
whilst surreptitiously peeking
at each other "unmentionables"?

I listen to music
iPod's rock in the laundromat!

quite often sitting with my eyes closed
so as to not see the condition of
everyone else's unmentionables
and on the off chance
that my not looking at theirs
will keep them from looking at mine...

today whilst washing
yet again
the down comforter
that I've had but a month
and Pixie seems to believe
is her personal pissing gound
but I digress....

anyway...
today's closed eyes
rocking and rolling
thought patterns
led me to be thinking of
my friend Louie's blog
on the abject stupidity
of drinking and driving
or even more so
drinking and riding
(It's called "Impaired Thinking"
and ya really oughta read it)

then my thoughts turned
to the kind of punishment
that people get
for impaired driving

which then of course
led me to thinking
about consequences
for actions in general

which eventually led me to
the thought that named this post

wouldn't it be great if I
had a Samantha Stephens' type nose?

get caught speeding?
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a tortoise

get caught impaired?
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a skunk

get caught stealing?
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a magpie

the mind boggles...

then of course
as things will happen
my thoughts turn to the people
that have hurt and disappointed me
over the last couple of years

hmmmmm
Samantha Stephens nose....

hurt your wife?
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a eunuch

hurt your children?
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a monkey

lie to people
wiggle wiggle wiggle
you have no mouth

talk behind people's back
wiggle wiggle wiggle
you have no mouth

be mean
wiggle wiggle wiggle
yer a bird in a cage...

I could go on forever
*sigh*

yet more proof
that I'm going to hell
as the VOD would say...

LoL

what price

what price must we pay
to earn a living?

what price must we pay
to live our lives
in peace?

what price must we pay
to ensure a future?

must we relinquish our health
our sanity
our pride?

must we allow ourselves
to be treated like serfs
to be manhandled
abused?

when did it become
acceptable to make others suffer?

what price must we pay?

and why
in the year of 2010
is there no recourse?

Stay tuned....

there's something in the air.....

Blind Arrogance

I used to think that the gods had plans for me
(how arrogant is that?)

and that plan
was to create family
out of a group of people
whose only connection
would be me....


I did it for years in the east
when I was the Baby
and I started again
when I came out here
and became the WyzWmn

things
for the most part
went along swimmingly
for a long time

I now know that was likely
because I was blindly arrogant

I volunteered for charity
for years
I also became an officer
in a riding club
for years
and as a result
of all that and more
became "fast friends"
with a huge group of people
all over the world

I sub-consciously saw myself acting
as a fulcrum
to bring these people
from different walks of life
together

During the process
I learned a lot about myself

I learned that I don't suffer fools
or drunks lightly

I learned that I'm gregarious
but still shy

I learned that I'm strong
but usually terrified

I learned that I'm able to intimidate people
with my words
as opposed to my fists
but the fists are still there
should the need arise...

I learned that I'm a story teller
not a writer

I learned that I hold most dear
morality, integrity, honesty,
principles, sincerity, goodness,
kindness, honour, trustworthiness
and truth

and that the words "respect"
and "family" are two
of the most maligned
misused words
in the English language.

I learned that it
turns out I was wrong
that it turns out
that I was blindly arrogant
that it turns out
that's not what the god's
had in store for me

I learned that I gain power from myself
from expressing myself with integrity...

and that as my horoscope for today says:
"The depth of my convictions are intense
and I should not be afraid to say
what is on my mind
to confirm for others
exactly where I stand"

Stupid Girl - Garbage

You pretend you're high
You pretend you're bored
You pretend you're anything
Just to be adored
And what you need
Is what you get

Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in faith
Don't believe in anything
That you can't break

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted

What drives you on (What drives you on)
Can drive you mad (Can drive you mad)
A million lies to sell yourself
Is all you ever had

Don't believe in love
Don't believe in hate
Don't believe in anything
That you can't waste

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it

Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in pain
Don't believe in anyone
That you can't tame

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it

You stupid girl.

and then there was one..

I moved to BC
to live with my mother
(the VOD)
whilst recouping from
a tragic and horrific
breakup
and dealing with
a very aggressive occurrence
of Crohn's Disease

I spent virtually the first year
I was here
being the blob that ate my mother's couch
when I wasn't in the hospital

I was unable to work
and the VOD cared for me

it does something to one's ego
to go from being a contributing adult
back to being a kid
that needs their momma to help them

thus began the ride of the last 12+ years
as I got better
and the VOD got worse

we lived
side by side
in 2 apartments
in the end
I'm far from better
and the VOD is far from worse
but we survive...

In Nov the VOD
moved into assisted living
at the behest of the bother
aka "the Golden Boy"

this week
she moves out of assisted living
and up the Island
to live with my bother
and his adult children

while I know
that in the end
this move
is the best for both of us
I can't help but be struck
by this feeling of loss
at the idea that I will now
have to drive 3 hours
to see a member
of my immediate family

I have mixed emotions
because I know I am embarking on
the next chapter of my life...
so there is trepidation
resignation and excitement

my blister
who still lives back east
compounds my resistance
to the change
by sending me the following email...

"welcome to the orphanage"

it made me realize
that I'm gonna miss the VOD
but I'm looking forward
to what my life will have to offer
going forward

what a freakin day.....

I was up Island visiting friends in Port Alberni…left there to drive home around 2:15 – it was hawt – damn hawt….and by the time I get all the way around the peninsula it’s about a 3 hr trip

Pixie was in the passenger seat in a carry bag as opposed to her dog crate…said bag has mesh sides and I thought it would be cooler than the crate…about an hour down the road I realize she’s in full sun and cos I’ve not been paying attention – I don’t know for how long…so I pull off at a roadside rest area just past the Nanoose turn off to rearrange the car to get her outta the sun

I let her outta the carry bag and she couldn’t stand up…she kept falling over and was lethargic and her eyes were dull…at first I was afraid that she’d eaten something poisonous in the brush around my friend’s home in Port Alberni…and then I though “heat stroke”…but the air conditioner was on in the car? Still she only weights 3.5lbs so maybe heat stroke?

I tried but couldn’t get her to drink water and every time I set her down she’d fall forward like “falling in yer pudding” onto the tip of her nose as opposed to laying down…she couldn’t hold her own weight up standing or sitting

I did what most people do…I panicked and wept a bit and tried to find a veterinarian in Naniamo on Sunday….apparently I was nuts.

I went to PetSmart - a huge pet chain to ask them and they gave me lectures on where not to take her “cos they’ll kill yer doggie”…..but weren’t so much help in the where to take her dept and in the meantime I’m holding a rag doll that I can’t even feel breathing…

So I pulled into a mall parking lot and I started calling people I know that live in Naniamo – but it must have been the weather cos they where away er at the beach er sommat.

Once I had a bit of another bit of a boo hoo I ended up calling my friend Arlene who lives in the interior and works in Boston Terrier rescue and got her to look up symptoms of heat stroke in dogs on the WWW and read them to me – from 9 hours away in Lumby– and she looked up the numbers for vet’s in Nanaimo …none of whom returned my call when paged…

I gave up on Nanaimo and I called my vet in Victoria and they gave me yet another number of a vet in Naniamo…who also didn’t return my page…

I called Arlene back and she’d been reading more on the web and she suggested that I bathe Pixie in tepid water… (no small feat when yer in a parking lot in a town 2 hours away from home)…

So I put her inside my shirt and walked straight into a Tim Horton’s and into the ladies room. I filled the sink full of tepid water and put Pixie in it…she was so out of it she didn’t even realize she was wet at first…

It took about 20 minutes and she finally started to come around…so I wrapped her up in paper towel and carried her out to the car…I wet a bandana with drinking water and laid it on her belly and chest…with her laying on her back in my arm and drove from Nanaimo to Cassidy where I stopped at a rest area and put her in the sink again…this time she was awake and cranky…

I was never so happy to see a little dog cranky.

I drove the rest of the way home and got to my vet’s office at 7:10 where they examined her and said she was good to go now…at which point “the little darling” got up and wandered over to the treat bowl for a snack.

My vet rocks…they triaged her after 7pm and didn’t charge me a cent. And Pixie is good as new….so - my friend Arlene also rocks…not only for saving Pixie but for calming me down about it too…

And going forward…Pixie will be in the back seat in the middle where the sun can’t reach her – and I’ll buy a pair of those kiddie shades you see parents using on their windows to protect their babies from the sun…she’ll be in the hard crate and if I have to I’ll even buy a cooling pad for her crate…I am gonna do my best to never get a scare like that again.

Now Pixie’s asleep on the couch – and I’m going to go hide in my bedroom closet and suck my thumb.

writing vs storytelling

one thing
I am full on certain of
is that I am not
have never been
nor ever will be

a wordsmith - a writer

a couple of friends of mine
do major crossword puzzles daily
me?
not so much
my brain doesn't work like that

my boss quotes poetry
and literature (lit er at chewer - don't you know?)
at the drop of a hat
me?
not so much
I fall asleep...

me?
I have the knack
for turning a phrase
cussing like a muleskinner
and putting a funny or ironic spin
on just about anything...

so this I do know
I know
that what I can do
is tell a story

I get lots of pokes from people
about not writing things
on this blog much

well
part of that
is the audience

these people
that pester me to write
are also the people
that can't or won't handle the truth

these people that pester me
to carry on in here
really want me to take shots
at people
under the guise of friendships
that I no longer have or hold dear

I've learned
that I have to guard
what I want to share
these days
er I end up
knee deep
in bull shit
that I want
no part of

I'm a Lion
hear me roar
means I have to tell it
like I see it
but very few people
can handle the cold truth
the calling of the spade
as it were...

so I've made it a practice
to reign in my thoughts
and not get to much of a point
of late

that being said...
I'm frustrating myself.

mostly
I've convinced myself
that I'm boring
and who the hell would want to read
this clabber
anyway...

still
I know I can turn a phrase
when I have a story to tell

it's more visual to say
"Pixie yakked on me"
than to say "my dog is ill"

it's more visual to say
"the traffic coming home today today was
something like a slow trip to hell"
than to say
"it took me an hour longer than expected
to get home"

I sometimes wonder
what it is
that's lacking in my brain
that won't allow me to put together
the word with the idea presented
in a crossword puzzle
yet allows me to see a word jumble
most times
right outta the gate

what it is about my brain
that won't allow me
to stay awake
long enough
to read anything
that might be of educational value

sometimes it bothers me
but having a clearer understanding
of my place in the world of storytellers
of my lot
of my craft...
makes me understand
that not everything
is story worthy

and sometimes
even when it is story worthy
it's easier
to hold back
than to ruffle feathers...
no matter the strength of my convictions