Yet another news report that has me laughing like a hyena...
Van Halen, R.E.M. head into rock hall
03/12/2007 11:48 PM, AP
David Bauder
Two of the biggest rock bands of the 1980s took different paths to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on Monday — indie favorites R.E.M. with a happy reunion and party band Van Halen with a fragmentary turnout.
Only Van Halen's second lead singer, Sammy Hagar, and ex-bass player Michael Anthony turned up for their induction. Guitarist Eddie Van Halen has just gone into rehab and original lead singer David Lee Roth stayed away in a tiff over what he would perform.
Hagar said he wished his bandmates could be there, but "it's out of our control."
"It's hard for Mike and I to be up here to do this, but you couldn't have kept me away from this with a shotgun," Hagar said.
It took less to keep Roth away. He stood up the hall, reportedly because he couldn't agree on what to sing with the band Velvet Revolver, which offered a tribute. Joel Peresman, president and CEO of the Hall of Fame, said Roth was offered a chance to sing a song of his choice with the house band. "The decision not to come was solely his, not ours."
Hagar and Anthony joined Velvet Revolver to sing "Why Can't This Be Love."
How funny is it that the only members of the band that showed up are guys that got kicked out of the band? Why wasn't Alex Van Halen there... I mean it would have been nice to have at least one REAL Van Halen there to accept the award. And who the hell invited Velvet Revolver to this debacle? Even more importantly why is Velvet Revolver being tapped to replace Van Halen on their recently cancelled tour? Is it really a good idea to replace a band that dropped out of a tour due to their leader being in rehab with a band whose singer is legendary for his addiction troubles and has his own wing at every rehab clinic in the country? Yes Scott Weiland I mean you... is Eddie really that much more messed up than Scott? YIKES!! Best bet is this tour will never happen...
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Priceless
I don't even know what to say about this story but when I stop laughing (if I ever do) I'm sure I will think of something...
Ambassador Recalled Amid Lurid Report
Conduct Called 'Unbecoming of a Diplomat'
Reuters
JERUSALEM (March 12) - Israel has recalled its ambassador in El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked with sex toys lying nearby in the yard of his official residence, Israeli media reports said on Monday.
A foreign ministry spokeswoman confirmed that the ambassador, Tsuriel Raphael, was recalled but offered no details. "The ministry sees his behavior as unbecoming of a diplomat," the spokeswoman said.
Israeli media reported that local police found Raphael in the yard of the official residence in San Salvador. The reports said he was drunk, naked, and bound and gagged with a rubber ball in his mouth and sex toys lying near him.
The foreign ministry spokeswoman said the incident took place two weeks ago.
"As soon as the episode was brought to attention of the foreign ministry it reacted and the ambassador was recalled to Israel. He is going to remain in Israel," she said.
Israel would seek another ambassador in El Salvador, an Israeli official said.
Now there's a goodwill ambassador!! And what an act to follow... I feel bad for his replacement...
Ambassador Recalled Amid Lurid Report
Conduct Called 'Unbecoming of a Diplomat'
Reuters
JERUSALEM (March 12) - Israel has recalled its ambassador in El Salvador after he was found drunk and naked with sex toys lying nearby in the yard of his official residence, Israeli media reports said on Monday.
A foreign ministry spokeswoman confirmed that the ambassador, Tsuriel Raphael, was recalled but offered no details. "The ministry sees his behavior as unbecoming of a diplomat," the spokeswoman said.
Israeli media reported that local police found Raphael in the yard of the official residence in San Salvador. The reports said he was drunk, naked, and bound and gagged with a rubber ball in his mouth and sex toys lying near him.
The foreign ministry spokeswoman said the incident took place two weeks ago.
"As soon as the episode was brought to attention of the foreign ministry it reacted and the ambassador was recalled to Israel. He is going to remain in Israel," she said.
Israel would seek another ambassador in El Salvador, an Israeli official said.
Now there's a goodwill ambassador!! And what an act to follow... I feel bad for his replacement...
Bad Writing 101
Ok... so howzabout a little break from the Long Strange Trip for a quick example of the kind of stuff that I notice every day that drives me freaking nuts?
Richard Jeni committed suicide a couple of days ago - here is a small excerpt from Sandy Cohen's AP article about the suicide and autopsy:
LOS ANGELES - An autopsy was performed Monday on comic Richard Jeni but the cause of his death won't be known for several weeks, according to the Los Angeles County coroner's office. Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound. He was 49.
"It was reported to us as a possible suicide," coroner's Capt. Ed Winter said Monday. He did not disclose what kind of weapon was used.
Ok... let's dissect this tiny little excerpt shall we? First sentence tells us Jeni is dead but the cause of death won't be known for several weeks. The VERY NEXT SENTENCE reads "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound."
Uhm... do you see where I am going with this? I don't know about you but my head is starting to hurt already... not as bad as Jeni's but still...
Next sentence informs us that it was not disclosed what kind of weapon was used in the reported/suspected suicide.
I'm guessing (just guessing here... I'm no Sherlock Holmes or anything...) that the cause of death might have had something to do with the huge hole in his face/head that resulted from the GUNSHOT WOUND referred to in the first paragraph of the report. And I'd be brave enough to take it one step further and bet that the undisclosed weapon involved might just have been a GUN (once again just a guess based on the aforementioned sentence reading "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound").
It had also been reported that Jeni's girlfriend was cooking him breakfast when he shot himself (or shoved the bullet into his skull with a hammer or whatever happened since the weapon used hasn't been disclosed and thusly we shouldn't assume it was a gun... maybe he pulled a Macguyver kind of thing with a rubber band, a paper clip, a straw and the bullet - we don't know for sure apparently).
So these questions beg to be asked:
Was Richard Jeni's girlfriend's cooking so incredibly bad that he felt suicide was the only way out of eating her swill without hurting her feelings? And if so couldn't he have just taken her to Denny's or something?
Is the LA Coroner's Office full of morons who need weeks to figure out that the huge hole the guy put in his head with the undisclosed weapon is what killed him? Are they covering something up... is this another JFK kind of thing? Back and to the left... back and to the left... Was Macguyver involved and that's why they can't disclose what the weapon was?
Or maybe does Sandy Cohen know something the coroner's office doesn't? Is she psychic? Where exactly was Sandy at the time of the alleged suicide? Does she have a solid alibi? What was her relationship with Jeni and how does she know all these things that the coroner's office doesn't? Shouldn't someone be interrogating her about now? (I'm kidding of course... OR AM I????)
Most importantly isn't there supposed to be Editor's who read this kind of crappy writing and (after reassembling their head's because the horrible writing made them explode) smack the stupid writer upside their heads?
Am I the only one noticing this kind of stupid shit or what?
By the way and just for the record I liked Jeni's comedy and it sucks that he's gone... this world needs as much humor and laughter as possible and Jeni's departure from our world leaves a silent void where a thunderous laugh should be.
Richard Jeni committed suicide a couple of days ago - here is a small excerpt from Sandy Cohen's AP article about the suicide and autopsy:
LOS ANGELES - An autopsy was performed Monday on comic Richard Jeni but the cause of his death won't be known for several weeks, according to the Los Angeles County coroner's office. Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound. He was 49.
"It was reported to us as a possible suicide," coroner's Capt. Ed Winter said Monday. He did not disclose what kind of weapon was used.
Ok... let's dissect this tiny little excerpt shall we? First sentence tells us Jeni is dead but the cause of death won't be known for several weeks. The VERY NEXT SENTENCE reads "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound."
Uhm... do you see where I am going with this? I don't know about you but my head is starting to hurt already... not as bad as Jeni's but still...
Next sentence informs us that it was not disclosed what kind of weapon was used in the reported/suspected suicide.
I'm guessing (just guessing here... I'm no Sherlock Holmes or anything...) that the cause of death might have had something to do with the huge hole in his face/head that resulted from the GUNSHOT WOUND referred to in the first paragraph of the report. And I'd be brave enough to take it one step further and bet that the undisclosed weapon involved might just have been a GUN (once again just a guess based on the aforementioned sentence reading "Jeni died Saturday from a gunshot wound").
It had also been reported that Jeni's girlfriend was cooking him breakfast when he shot himself (or shoved the bullet into his skull with a hammer or whatever happened since the weapon used hasn't been disclosed and thusly we shouldn't assume it was a gun... maybe he pulled a Macguyver kind of thing with a rubber band, a paper clip, a straw and the bullet - we don't know for sure apparently).
So these questions beg to be asked:
Was Richard Jeni's girlfriend's cooking so incredibly bad that he felt suicide was the only way out of eating her swill without hurting her feelings? And if so couldn't he have just taken her to Denny's or something?
Is the LA Coroner's Office full of morons who need weeks to figure out that the huge hole the guy put in his head with the undisclosed weapon is what killed him? Are they covering something up... is this another JFK kind of thing? Back and to the left... back and to the left... Was Macguyver involved and that's why they can't disclose what the weapon was?
Or maybe does Sandy Cohen know something the coroner's office doesn't? Is she psychic? Where exactly was Sandy at the time of the alleged suicide? Does she have a solid alibi? What was her relationship with Jeni and how does she know all these things that the coroner's office doesn't? Shouldn't someone be interrogating her about now? (I'm kidding of course... OR AM I????)
Most importantly isn't there supposed to be Editor's who read this kind of crappy writing and (after reassembling their head's because the horrible writing made them explode) smack the stupid writer upside their heads?
Am I the only one noticing this kind of stupid shit or what?
By the way and just for the record I liked Jeni's comedy and it sucks that he's gone... this world needs as much humor and laughter as possible and Jeni's departure from our world leaves a silent void where a thunderous laugh should be.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
The Long Cold Ugly 80's
So as the 70's came to a sad, whimpering end the world around us was changing drastically. Jimmy Carter admitted to having "sinned in his heart" in a Playboy Interview and was still elected President. That's how strongly the Nation had turned against the Republican Party. The mere idea of a Presidential Candidate giving an interview to Playboy magazine was fairly risky in a political sense but then to admit to "being a sinner" (even if only in his heart) should have been a death blow to his candidacy. But it wasn't. And for the record let me say I liked Carter and still do to this day. He was a good man who had the great misfortune to become President at a very bad moment in history. The Iran Hostage Crisis changed everything. Had President Carter's rescue mission been successful he would have been hailed as a hero and won re-election by a landslide and in all likelihood this country would be on a drastically different path than it is today. Unfortunately the rescue plan was doomed and so too was President Carter's chances at re-election as well as this country's hopes of becoming a shining beacon of democracy and freedom. The 80's were ushered in with the election of an aged ex-actor (and a bad one at that) Republican with strong ties to the Right Wing Conservative factions that would take control of Amerika's (no longer to be spelled with a C anymore) foreign and domestic policy the second Reagan took the Oath of Office.
Anyway... by the time the 80's had rolled around my father and brother were gone, leaving me and my mother alone. Dad would bring money by once a week for bills and groceries and such but otherwise was out of the picture despite the fact that he and my mother never legally separated. Mom had been in and out of the hospital but had more or less stabilized and had quit smoking for good. For a few years we had a relatively normal life. I graduated from high school in 1982 and since college wasn't really an option (both for financial reasons and the responsibility I had to take care of my mother) I began working. At the same time I had come out of the closet... well not exactly. You see, I had been in what I thought was a pretty discrete relationship with a boy I had met a year earlier. After about a year together he dumped me for my best friend - a girl I worked with. I was broken hearted having lost both my lover and best friend in one blow and fell into a deep depression. My mother called me into her room one day and flat out told me that she knew about me and my friend's relationship and wanted to know what happened. After telling her the whole story she had me call a friend from high school who was very obviously gay and asked him to show me where the gay bars were and get me laid. I kid you not. My mom was very very cool. Unfortunately, within 2 years her health declined to the point where she was hospitalized and put on a ventilator to help her breathe. She was in the hospital for several months and almost died a couple of times as we tried unsuccessfully to ween her from the ventilator. Her lungs were too far gone though and she spent the remainder of her life hooked to that machine. At that time it was unheard of for a patient on a ventilator to be taken care of at home due to the amount of attention and care vent patients required. I was told she would have to be placed in a nursing home and the only nursing home even remotely nearby was on the Eastern Shore of Maryland - a good 2 - 3 hours away. My mother and I both refused and gave the hospital folks two options - teach me how to care for her and arrange for supportive visiting nurses and let me take her home to live OR disconnect the ventilator and let me take her home to die. I spent the next couple of months learning how to suction the fluids from her lungs through the tracheotomy, monitor the machine settings and "bag" her with a hand held air pump in case the machine were to fail. Heavy stuff to be sure but I didn't even think about it that way really. I just wanted my mom home. My mom was one tough cookie. She survived until 1995 with the beeps and wooshing sounds of that machine her constant companion.
It was somewhere around this same time that I tested positive for HIV. By this time HIV was known about but still somewhat of an enigma - no one knew how it was transmitted and for the most part it was a death sentence. When I tested positive I was told my immune system was in pretty bad shape and the doctor's believed that I had contracted it several years prior to testing positive. I wasn't really all that surprised. I had been sexually active since my early teens and had done a little bit of stripping and hustling so the chances were pretty good the test was going to come back positive.
Well... I continued on this posting here and wrote a very long concise timetable of the events of the 80's but guess what?
I hit publish post and my post disappeared entirely. No auto save, no backup, no nothing. Again I say Blogger sucks ass sometimes. Too bad - I had some good quotes and original phrases in there that there is no way I will ever remember now.
Thanks Blogger you are a real pal.
Anyone know of a more reliable blog site that won't censor the fuck out of me?
Anyway... by the time the 80's had rolled around my father and brother were gone, leaving me and my mother alone. Dad would bring money by once a week for bills and groceries and such but otherwise was out of the picture despite the fact that he and my mother never legally separated. Mom had been in and out of the hospital but had more or less stabilized and had quit smoking for good. For a few years we had a relatively normal life. I graduated from high school in 1982 and since college wasn't really an option (both for financial reasons and the responsibility I had to take care of my mother) I began working. At the same time I had come out of the closet... well not exactly. You see, I had been in what I thought was a pretty discrete relationship with a boy I had met a year earlier. After about a year together he dumped me for my best friend - a girl I worked with. I was broken hearted having lost both my lover and best friend in one blow and fell into a deep depression. My mother called me into her room one day and flat out told me that she knew about me and my friend's relationship and wanted to know what happened. After telling her the whole story she had me call a friend from high school who was very obviously gay and asked him to show me where the gay bars were and get me laid. I kid you not. My mom was very very cool. Unfortunately, within 2 years her health declined to the point where she was hospitalized and put on a ventilator to help her breathe. She was in the hospital for several months and almost died a couple of times as we tried unsuccessfully to ween her from the ventilator. Her lungs were too far gone though and she spent the remainder of her life hooked to that machine. At that time it was unheard of for a patient on a ventilator to be taken care of at home due to the amount of attention and care vent patients required. I was told she would have to be placed in a nursing home and the only nursing home even remotely nearby was on the Eastern Shore of Maryland - a good 2 - 3 hours away. My mother and I both refused and gave the hospital folks two options - teach me how to care for her and arrange for supportive visiting nurses and let me take her home to live OR disconnect the ventilator and let me take her home to die. I spent the next couple of months learning how to suction the fluids from her lungs through the tracheotomy, monitor the machine settings and "bag" her with a hand held air pump in case the machine were to fail. Heavy stuff to be sure but I didn't even think about it that way really. I just wanted my mom home. My mom was one tough cookie. She survived until 1995 with the beeps and wooshing sounds of that machine her constant companion.
It was somewhere around this same time that I tested positive for HIV. By this time HIV was known about but still somewhat of an enigma - no one knew how it was transmitted and for the most part it was a death sentence. When I tested positive I was told my immune system was in pretty bad shape and the doctor's believed that I had contracted it several years prior to testing positive. I wasn't really all that surprised. I had been sexually active since my early teens and had done a little bit of stripping and hustling so the chances were pretty good the test was going to come back positive.
Well... I continued on this posting here and wrote a very long concise timetable of the events of the 80's but guess what?
I hit publish post and my post disappeared entirely. No auto save, no backup, no nothing. Again I say Blogger sucks ass sometimes. Too bad - I had some good quotes and original phrases in there that there is no way I will ever remember now.
Thanks Blogger you are a real pal.
Anyone know of a more reliable blog site that won't censor the fuck out of me?
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The Trip (through the 70's)
Seeing as how the title of this here BLOG is "The Long Strange Trip" and my idea for this thing was to write down some sort of recollection of my life I figure maybe I should get to it. This is more certainly not a memoir or autobiography or anything so high and mighty as that - just my recollections of my life so far and maybe a form of cheap self-therapy. Then again maybe that's what a memoir or autobiography is really... so call this what you will. I call it a long, strange trip... and (hopefully anyway) I am a long way from the end.
So some of my first memories are of me with a little plastic pretend kiddy doctor's kit administering fake candy pills to my ill grandmother laying on the living room couch. It seemed as if she was always ill, at least in my memory. We lived with my mother's parents in their quiet home in Northwest Washington DC when I was a small child and as I said it seemed as if grandmother was always sick and I was always giving her fake candy remedies to cure her ills - I would use the term "I was playing doctor with my grandmother" but that conjures up some very sick imagery that some stupid ass would misconstrue so let's just not go there ok? Admittedly by saying that I have already taken you to that ugly place but now I can just use that term without any of the silly innuendo and stupid associated crap... ok? I PLAYED DOCTOR WITH MY GRANDMOTHER - there I said it. But not in a weird way ok? Anyway... I don't know if she actually ate the little candy pills I offered up but in retrospect this memory sets the tone for the direction of this long, strange trip that I call my life. I don't even know how sick my grandmother really was - I had been told when I was much older that grandmother (who had by now long since passed away) was a bit of a hypochondriac.
All of this had to have been around the time when I was 5 or maybe 6... sometime in the late 60's. I also remember how much I loved my grandfather - I can still remember scampering into his lap as he sat in his easy chair in the living room and he would give me one of the cherry throat lozenges he always seemed to have on hand. My grandfather, I am told, had a glorious tenor voice and sang in the choir at the church he attended in Georgetown. I guess that's why he always had those lozenges. In any case they were a treasured treat to me. I was told that I was my grandfather's favorite of the grandchildren by my mom - I don't know if that is so or not but I always felt like the apple of his eye. I don't recall him getting ill but he was hospitalized in late November or early December of 1970 with a blood clot I think. In any case I remember being pulled out of class on December 10 and being told that my grandfather had died and I would be staying with a family friend that night. Apparently my grandfather refused to use the bedpan and had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom - the clot shook loose and went straight to his heart or brain or lung or wherever it is these things go to kill you. I do know that my mother was in the hospital cafeteria at the time it happened and heard the call of "Code Blue" over the loudspeaker - she rushed to the room only to arrive in time to see my Grandfather laying on the floor as the doctors tried unsuccessfully to revive him. I can't recall who told me he had died - maybe it was a school official or maybe my parent's came to pick me up and told me themselves. I just remember feeling very empty and lonely and helpless and worst of all, removed from my mother who I adored and who I knew adored her father and she was in pain that I couldn't do anything about. No amount of candy pills could ever fix this. I don't recall ever playing with my little fake doctor's kit again. Around this same time (maybe before maybe after I can't really recall) my mother's beloved dog Tinkerbell also died but that was just one more encounter with our new uninvited friend Death.
After my grandfather's death, my grandmother's health quickly declined and the family elected to have her placed in a nursing home... as is often the case with people who have been married to one another all their lives, she died within a year and a half of her husband. But still Mr. Death wasn't done with us. Two weeks after my grandmother's death came the high profile murder case of my mother's brother - my Uncle Corky Nalls. He was 17 years old when he was shot in the head by James Walburn, the father of the pregnant girlfriend Corky wanted to marry. The killer was captured a few days later at his rural cabin running around nude acting like a crazy man. Maybe he was crazy, I don't know. I only know that his actions drove the final stake into the heart of what remained of my family. The ensuing murder trial was big news for the next year or so in the local media and I have strange little memories of the trial itself. I had a very bad poison ivy infection that covered almost every inch of my body at one point (I don't know - maybe I was rolling around in it or something). It was so bad that I obviously couldn't go to school so my parents had to bring me along to the trial. I have vague memories of sitting in the court room as the trial unfolded... mostly it is a blank but I do have distinct memories of a chalk board on which the defense lawyer drew an overhead view of the crime scene (the front porch of the killer's home) and arguing that the killing was accidental. Yes he said the accused did have a rifle and was threatening my Uncle and telling him to stay away from his daughter and get off his property when he tripped over the leg of a rocking chair that was on the porch which caused the rifle to discharge. The shot hit him in the face. My poor Uncle staggered a few houses away where he collapsed and died in a pool of his own blood. Eyewitnesses had a different story as to how the murder happened. I don't remember their testimony - I may not have even been present for that but I do remember waiting in a room for the jury's decision with the family of the killer and our family crammed together in horrible, deafening silence. There we all were, his family and our family, all destroyed by a moment of rage. I can remember playing with one of the boys from the killer's family during the trial in the hallway - or maybe it was in the waiting room as we all sat with our lives in tatters all around us. We were too young to understand. Broken families, broken people, broken lives. But to two little kids the importance and gravity of this moment was lost - at least for the time. But the ripple effects of the event were far reaching and treacherous. For my family that was the final blow... the family home was sold (I presume to pay bills for my grandmother's care and funeral and my uncle's funeral and so forth). The family drifted apart and (I suppose) did their best to find ways to heal the wounds of the past couple of years or at least forget them. One of my Uncle's spent the majority of the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and addicted to drugs. The other spent his life doing his best to live a "normal" life with his family. My Aunt's moved away and my mom... well she just survived as best as she could. Her marriage fell apart and her health steadily declined until her death in 1995. She never really got over the events of those 18 months in early 1970/1971. I don't know much of what became of the killer and his family. He was convicted of murder but was released from prison after a few years because he allegedly had cancer or a heart condition or some such nonsense and only had a few months to live. I don't know what kind of strings he pulled to get out of jail but I know he lived for many years later, albeit without much dignity. My father once swore that he saw the killer picking through a garbage can in an alley in downtown Dc - homeless and broken. I don't know if that's true but it would be a fitting end to a miserable man's life. He had apparently done horrible things throughout his life and was suspected in the deaths of at least two of his family members - so who knows, maybe he was crazy. As to the rest of his family I don't know what became of them although I would guess they were as ruined by this tragedy as my family was. I don't recall ever seeing that little boy again. I feel as bad for them as I do for my own family - none of us asked for this to happen but all of our lives were changed by this one man's actions. A tough lesson for 2 little boys to have to learn. I wonder if he took from that experience the same lessons that I did...
The next few years of my life were more or less uneventful and average, relatively speaking. I did the typical kid things like playing baseball and soccer and theater stuff. For a few years I got to have a somewhat normal childhood. Well... if you take into account the fact that my father was an alcoholic and my parent's marriage was falling apart. They tried hard to fix the marriage and pull our little family unit together by doing things like weekend camping trips that more often than not turned out disastrous due to my father's drinking. Those trips didn't last though. The "gas crisis" made trips like those virtually unaffordable and even had that not been the case the truth was the camping trips did nothing to bring us closer together as a family. If anything it created more stress and friction. I can recall one Friday just before going camping my teacher telling the class that one of our classmates (and one of my best friends) had died overnight of kidney failure. We knew he had been sick for a while but still I was destroyed by the news. Fernando was a "little person" - a midget... maybe a dwarf. I don't really know - it wasn't important to me at that age - I just knew he was my friend and now he too was gone. And then I had to go camping with my broken family. It all seemed so futile to me at 10 or 11 years old. And that's pretty much how all of my memories of those camping trips are, which is really sad because I am sure that in reality there had to have been some wonderful adventures and fun that we had that was overshadowed by all the pain of the times we were going through. I wish I could go back and relive those times so that I can at least remember a few of the good times. But that isn't how life works... I just have to believe that those moments DID happen and they are burned into my brain somewhere on a subconscious level.
By this time I had dealt with the rapid loss of my grandparents, the murder of my uncle and the resulting trial, the loss of one of my best friends, the sudden death of my mother's sister's husband due to a massive heart attack on a golf course, and just for fun, being sexually molested by my father's father. I wasn't the only one - he got to pretty much all of the kids in the family before I ratted him out to my parents after he gave me a dollar to pull my pants down and let him touch my penis. I don't recall exactly what happened but I remember afterwards knowing that what he did was wrong and I should tell my mommy which I did. He was never allowed to be alone with the grandchildren again. Let me just say here that I don't think he was a bad man - I believe he had a mental illness and I always looked at it that way throughout my life. So you might expect that my life was overdue for some semblance of normalcy by this point. Ahh... once again that's not how life works. Life had other plans for me and far bigger challenges to overcome.
My parent's relationship continued to deteriorate and my brother continued to act out always getting into trouble (and trying to get every girl in sight pregnant to boot). By the time I was in my early teens my brother and father had both moved out of the house and my mother had been diagnosed with severe emphysema. Her lungs were like Swiss cheese from smoking since she was a teenager. She tried to quit but the strain of her marital problems led her back to her trusty crutch - the cigarette. She was on oxygen at home and her mobility became more and more limited due to her inability to breathe. Other than going to Bingo and the grocery store she was more or less home bound and I was left to care for her. I can remember the ordeal of coming home from school every day and getting off of the bus a block from my house. It was always such a long walk in my head because I was always thinking in the back of my mind that one day I would come home and find her dead or dying on the floor. This was, unfortunately a very real possibility and the reality I had to deal with on a daily basis. I can actually recall one night my mother turning blue before my eyes as I frantically called my dad to come take her to the hospital. She was hospitalized and one morning I received a call that my mother had gone into respiratory arrest and had stopped breathing several times overnight and that they had to resuscitate her and had put her on a ventilator and she was in critical condition. I was not prepared for what I saw when I arrived at her room. There on the hospital bed was my mother, horribly bloated, eyes open but more or less rolled back in her head with no focus and she was a strange grayish color. There was a large machine next to her bed bellowing out loud whooshing sounds with a tube leading from the machine to her mouth and down her throat. The tube was taped in place over her mouth and her hands were bound to the bed because she had tried repeatedly to remove the tube from her throat. I remember speaking softly to her telling her how she had given us all a scare and that I loved her but she was non-responsive. I left the room and collapsed in the ICU lobby. When I finally composed myself enough to speak to the doctor things only got worse. After my mother was diagnosed with emphysema she did try to quit but as I said cigarettes were her one crutch in life (she wasn't a drinker or drug taker) and the burden of the marital problems coupled with her health problems drove her right back to smoking. It was her only outlet. But since she was essentially housebound and didn't want my father to know she had started smoking again she had no way of getting cigarettes except to send her sons to the local pharmacy to get her fix for her. Eventually I think my brother refused to do it but I was never able to refuse my mother so I began making the pickups of the drug that was killing her. Somehow (I don't really remember how this came about) the doctor had caught wind of the fact that I had been supplying my mother with cigarettes. The end result being the doctor telling me that if my mother died it was my fault because I bought her the cigarettes. I was devastated to say the least and to this day those words still haunt me. And that... more or less... was the 70's for me. But the Long Strange Trip was just getting started...
So some of my first memories are of me with a little plastic pretend kiddy doctor's kit administering fake candy pills to my ill grandmother laying on the living room couch. It seemed as if she was always ill, at least in my memory. We lived with my mother's parents in their quiet home in Northwest Washington DC when I was a small child and as I said it seemed as if grandmother was always sick and I was always giving her fake candy remedies to cure her ills - I would use the term "I was playing doctor with my grandmother" but that conjures up some very sick imagery that some stupid ass would misconstrue so let's just not go there ok? Admittedly by saying that I have already taken you to that ugly place but now I can just use that term without any of the silly innuendo and stupid associated crap... ok? I PLAYED DOCTOR WITH MY GRANDMOTHER - there I said it. But not in a weird way ok? Anyway... I don't know if she actually ate the little candy pills I offered up but in retrospect this memory sets the tone for the direction of this long, strange trip that I call my life. I don't even know how sick my grandmother really was - I had been told when I was much older that grandmother (who had by now long since passed away) was a bit of a hypochondriac.
All of this had to have been around the time when I was 5 or maybe 6... sometime in the late 60's. I also remember how much I loved my grandfather - I can still remember scampering into his lap as he sat in his easy chair in the living room and he would give me one of the cherry throat lozenges he always seemed to have on hand. My grandfather, I am told, had a glorious tenor voice and sang in the choir at the church he attended in Georgetown. I guess that's why he always had those lozenges. In any case they were a treasured treat to me. I was told that I was my grandfather's favorite of the grandchildren by my mom - I don't know if that is so or not but I always felt like the apple of his eye. I don't recall him getting ill but he was hospitalized in late November or early December of 1970 with a blood clot I think. In any case I remember being pulled out of class on December 10 and being told that my grandfather had died and I would be staying with a family friend that night. Apparently my grandfather refused to use the bedpan and had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom - the clot shook loose and went straight to his heart or brain or lung or wherever it is these things go to kill you. I do know that my mother was in the hospital cafeteria at the time it happened and heard the call of "Code Blue" over the loudspeaker - she rushed to the room only to arrive in time to see my Grandfather laying on the floor as the doctors tried unsuccessfully to revive him. I can't recall who told me he had died - maybe it was a school official or maybe my parent's came to pick me up and told me themselves. I just remember feeling very empty and lonely and helpless and worst of all, removed from my mother who I adored and who I knew adored her father and she was in pain that I couldn't do anything about. No amount of candy pills could ever fix this. I don't recall ever playing with my little fake doctor's kit again. Around this same time (maybe before maybe after I can't really recall) my mother's beloved dog Tinkerbell also died but that was just one more encounter with our new uninvited friend Death.
After my grandfather's death, my grandmother's health quickly declined and the family elected to have her placed in a nursing home... as is often the case with people who have been married to one another all their lives, she died within a year and a half of her husband. But still Mr. Death wasn't done with us. Two weeks after my grandmother's death came the high profile murder case of my mother's brother - my Uncle Corky Nalls. He was 17 years old when he was shot in the head by James Walburn, the father of the pregnant girlfriend Corky wanted to marry. The killer was captured a few days later at his rural cabin running around nude acting like a crazy man. Maybe he was crazy, I don't know. I only know that his actions drove the final stake into the heart of what remained of my family. The ensuing murder trial was big news for the next year or so in the local media and I have strange little memories of the trial itself. I had a very bad poison ivy infection that covered almost every inch of my body at one point (I don't know - maybe I was rolling around in it or something). It was so bad that I obviously couldn't go to school so my parents had to bring me along to the trial. I have vague memories of sitting in the court room as the trial unfolded... mostly it is a blank but I do have distinct memories of a chalk board on which the defense lawyer drew an overhead view of the crime scene (the front porch of the killer's home) and arguing that the killing was accidental. Yes he said the accused did have a rifle and was threatening my Uncle and telling him to stay away from his daughter and get off his property when he tripped over the leg of a rocking chair that was on the porch which caused the rifle to discharge. The shot hit him in the face. My poor Uncle staggered a few houses away where he collapsed and died in a pool of his own blood. Eyewitnesses had a different story as to how the murder happened. I don't remember their testimony - I may not have even been present for that but I do remember waiting in a room for the jury's decision with the family of the killer and our family crammed together in horrible, deafening silence. There we all were, his family and our family, all destroyed by a moment of rage. I can remember playing with one of the boys from the killer's family during the trial in the hallway - or maybe it was in the waiting room as we all sat with our lives in tatters all around us. We were too young to understand. Broken families, broken people, broken lives. But to two little kids the importance and gravity of this moment was lost - at least for the time. But the ripple effects of the event were far reaching and treacherous. For my family that was the final blow... the family home was sold (I presume to pay bills for my grandmother's care and funeral and my uncle's funeral and so forth). The family drifted apart and (I suppose) did their best to find ways to heal the wounds of the past couple of years or at least forget them. One of my Uncle's spent the majority of the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and addicted to drugs. The other spent his life doing his best to live a "normal" life with his family. My Aunt's moved away and my mom... well she just survived as best as she could. Her marriage fell apart and her health steadily declined until her death in 1995. She never really got over the events of those 18 months in early 1970/1971. I don't know much of what became of the killer and his family. He was convicted of murder but was released from prison after a few years because he allegedly had cancer or a heart condition or some such nonsense and only had a few months to live. I don't know what kind of strings he pulled to get out of jail but I know he lived for many years later, albeit without much dignity. My father once swore that he saw the killer picking through a garbage can in an alley in downtown Dc - homeless and broken. I don't know if that's true but it would be a fitting end to a miserable man's life. He had apparently done horrible things throughout his life and was suspected in the deaths of at least two of his family members - so who knows, maybe he was crazy. As to the rest of his family I don't know what became of them although I would guess they were as ruined by this tragedy as my family was. I don't recall ever seeing that little boy again. I feel as bad for them as I do for my own family - none of us asked for this to happen but all of our lives were changed by this one man's actions. A tough lesson for 2 little boys to have to learn. I wonder if he took from that experience the same lessons that I did...
The next few years of my life were more or less uneventful and average, relatively speaking. I did the typical kid things like playing baseball and soccer and theater stuff. For a few years I got to have a somewhat normal childhood. Well... if you take into account the fact that my father was an alcoholic and my parent's marriage was falling apart. They tried hard to fix the marriage and pull our little family unit together by doing things like weekend camping trips that more often than not turned out disastrous due to my father's drinking. Those trips didn't last though. The "gas crisis" made trips like those virtually unaffordable and even had that not been the case the truth was the camping trips did nothing to bring us closer together as a family. If anything it created more stress and friction. I can recall one Friday just before going camping my teacher telling the class that one of our classmates (and one of my best friends) had died overnight of kidney failure. We knew he had been sick for a while but still I was destroyed by the news. Fernando was a "little person" - a midget... maybe a dwarf. I don't really know - it wasn't important to me at that age - I just knew he was my friend and now he too was gone. And then I had to go camping with my broken family. It all seemed so futile to me at 10 or 11 years old. And that's pretty much how all of my memories of those camping trips are, which is really sad because I am sure that in reality there had to have been some wonderful adventures and fun that we had that was overshadowed by all the pain of the times we were going through. I wish I could go back and relive those times so that I can at least remember a few of the good times. But that isn't how life works... I just have to believe that those moments DID happen and they are burned into my brain somewhere on a subconscious level.
By this time I had dealt with the rapid loss of my grandparents, the murder of my uncle and the resulting trial, the loss of one of my best friends, the sudden death of my mother's sister's husband due to a massive heart attack on a golf course, and just for fun, being sexually molested by my father's father. I wasn't the only one - he got to pretty much all of the kids in the family before I ratted him out to my parents after he gave me a dollar to pull my pants down and let him touch my penis. I don't recall exactly what happened but I remember afterwards knowing that what he did was wrong and I should tell my mommy which I did. He was never allowed to be alone with the grandchildren again. Let me just say here that I don't think he was a bad man - I believe he had a mental illness and I always looked at it that way throughout my life. So you might expect that my life was overdue for some semblance of normalcy by this point. Ahh... once again that's not how life works. Life had other plans for me and far bigger challenges to overcome.
My parent's relationship continued to deteriorate and my brother continued to act out always getting into trouble (and trying to get every girl in sight pregnant to boot). By the time I was in my early teens my brother and father had both moved out of the house and my mother had been diagnosed with severe emphysema. Her lungs were like Swiss cheese from smoking since she was a teenager. She tried to quit but the strain of her marital problems led her back to her trusty crutch - the cigarette. She was on oxygen at home and her mobility became more and more limited due to her inability to breathe. Other than going to Bingo and the grocery store she was more or less home bound and I was left to care for her. I can remember the ordeal of coming home from school every day and getting off of the bus a block from my house. It was always such a long walk in my head because I was always thinking in the back of my mind that one day I would come home and find her dead or dying on the floor. This was, unfortunately a very real possibility and the reality I had to deal with on a daily basis. I can actually recall one night my mother turning blue before my eyes as I frantically called my dad to come take her to the hospital. She was hospitalized and one morning I received a call that my mother had gone into respiratory arrest and had stopped breathing several times overnight and that they had to resuscitate her and had put her on a ventilator and she was in critical condition. I was not prepared for what I saw when I arrived at her room. There on the hospital bed was my mother, horribly bloated, eyes open but more or less rolled back in her head with no focus and she was a strange grayish color. There was a large machine next to her bed bellowing out loud whooshing sounds with a tube leading from the machine to her mouth and down her throat. The tube was taped in place over her mouth and her hands were bound to the bed because she had tried repeatedly to remove the tube from her throat. I remember speaking softly to her telling her how she had given us all a scare and that I loved her but she was non-responsive. I left the room and collapsed in the ICU lobby. When I finally composed myself enough to speak to the doctor things only got worse. After my mother was diagnosed with emphysema she did try to quit but as I said cigarettes were her one crutch in life (she wasn't a drinker or drug taker) and the burden of the marital problems coupled with her health problems drove her right back to smoking. It was her only outlet. But since she was essentially housebound and didn't want my father to know she had started smoking again she had no way of getting cigarettes except to send her sons to the local pharmacy to get her fix for her. Eventually I think my brother refused to do it but I was never able to refuse my mother so I began making the pickups of the drug that was killing her. Somehow (I don't really remember how this came about) the doctor had caught wind of the fact that I had been supplying my mother with cigarettes. The end result being the doctor telling me that if my mother died it was my fault because I bought her the cigarettes. I was devastated to say the least and to this day those words still haunt me. And that... more or less... was the 70's for me. But the Long Strange Trip was just getting started...
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Perception
Sometime the very things that we perceive to be holding us down or back in life are actually the only thing holding us UP in life. Sometimes the burdens of our lives are the very things that give us strength and reason to live.
Life is all a matter of perspective. If you don't like the way things look try changing your point of view - altering your perspective. Sometimes what we see and how we see it all depends on the window we are looking through.
Think about it.
Life is all a matter of perspective. If you don't like the way things look try changing your point of view - altering your perspective. Sometimes what we see and how we see it all depends on the window we are looking through.
Think about it.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Outside In Inside Out
In an earlier post I spoke about the beginning of the "hippie movement" and the anniversary of the Human Be-In and so forth. So exactly what did happen to the hippies? Where are all you good people? You didn't all die off like dinosaurs wiped out by an Ice Age. You couldn't possibly have all OD'd... I mean I know there were a lot of goooooood drugs around in your day but some of you had to have survived right? Many of you joined the "establishment" with the concept that the only way to effect real change was from the inside out. So what happened? You succeeded in the first part of the mission. You got inside. You established yourselves in positions of control and power. So again I ask what happened? My theory is you just got lost. Those cubicles in those corporate offices can all get to looking the same - it's completely understandable. It's like a maze... they build them that way on purpose actually. Kind of like casinos... once you are inside it's almost impossible to find you way out until you are bankrupt - financially or in this case morally. But you've still got a job to do and not much time left to do it with. Try to remember who you were - who you still are inside. Try to find your way home. It's time to make the dreams of yesterday the reality of today or at the very least the hope for a better brighter tomorrow.
Maybe you just got comfortable... that too is understandable. All those shiney material things that make life so much simpler for us all... even the daily routine we have fallen into... the mundane never changing existence... there is something undeniably comforting in these things, despite the underlying sinister and soul destroying emptiness and pointlessness that lays just below the comfort zzzzzzzzzone. It's not just a comfort zone you see... it's become a comfort zzzzzzzzzzone. We've all fallen asleep at the wheel because we have become too damned comfortable.
Either way the dream is dying and if we don't wake up this existence will become the accepted reality for the next generations that follow. Instead of expecting and fighting for what is best for all mankind they will settle for what is best for themselves.
Now is the time to let our freak flags fly again. All we have to do is remember where we put them.
Maybe you just got comfortable... that too is understandable. All those shiney material things that make life so much simpler for us all... even the daily routine we have fallen into... the mundane never changing existence... there is something undeniably comforting in these things, despite the underlying sinister and soul destroying emptiness and pointlessness that lays just below the comfort zzzzzzzzzone. It's not just a comfort zone you see... it's become a comfort zzzzzzzzzzone. We've all fallen asleep at the wheel because we have become too damned comfortable.
Either way the dream is dying and if we don't wake up this existence will become the accepted reality for the next generations that follow. Instead of expecting and fighting for what is best for all mankind they will settle for what is best for themselves.
Now is the time to let our freak flags fly again. All we have to do is remember where we put them.
Fighting The Dragon
This is a copy of a post I made today on the Hep C board on the website for The Grateful Dead's bass player Phil Lesh located at http://www.phillesh.com.
Well here I go on a journey I wasn't expecting and really really don't want to go on. But I'm already on the path and as I've always said "if you can't go over something or under it or around it then the only way is to go through it" so off I go. Seems I tested positive for Hep C about 2 years ago. Don't know for sure how I got it and it doesn't matter anyway the end result is still the same. Got no one but myself to blame and all that crap. So we've been tracking my numbers since I tested positive, hoping I might be one of those rare lucky ones who just beats it without treatment. No such luck... after a few minor drops the VL started climbing like my liver was Mt. freaking Everest and it HAD to make it to the top before winter set in. Annoying little bastards. If I could I would get a shrink ray gun and shrink myself down to their size and go in and kick their butts myself but I digress... We had good reason to hope I was going to be one of the lucky ones because I am a long term survivor of HIV (I got it back before it even had a name) and have a history of surviving and thriving through things that normal people don't. Great - so I'm not normal. How very wonderful lol. Again I digress. I do that a lot. Anyway... bottom line is the time has come and it's time to start THE TREATMENT. Ugh! Peg Infuron once a week and a bunch of pills every day (like I don't take enough freaking pills every day as it is because of the HIV). Swell. High probability I'll feel like crap for a couple of days after the shot EVERY FREAKING WEEK FOR 48 WEEKS. Oh joy! High probability my HIV numbers (which have been undetectable for years and years now) will go FREAKING NUTS! Wow... this is sounding more and more enticing all the time ain't it? Pretty good chance that the treatment will mess up my thyroid and other important organs I might be wanting to continue to use in the future. Yeeeehaaa! Decent chance that my hair may fall out too thanks to the treatment. AHA! I got that one beat... I ALREADY SHAVED MY HEAD!! SO THERE! NYAHHH...
The truth is that the chance of success with this treatment is not all that great even for healthy people... for a LTS of HIV (that's Long Term Survivor of AIDS for those of you who don't know - aka known as "F*CK AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD DUDE?") the chances of success are statistically very low. But like I said I've beaten a lot of odds this is just one more uphill battle I have to fight. The one thing I learned early on when I found out I had HIV was that your mental approach to things makes all the difference. I BELIEVED I would beat it and I did. All of my friends at the time who tested positive believed they would die. They all did. Every last one of them. I believe that I will beat HEP C just as I have beaten HIV (as well as it can be beaten anyway). To quote my boys "I WILL GET BY I WILL SURVIVE"
Despite that belief though I admit here to a group of people that I don't even know (even though in truth that's not entirely true - we have probably danced together and smiled to one another at show after show and in some ways our souls have touched) something that I can not admit to those closest to me - I am scared as hell. I think that however is a normal and healthy response and it won't keep me from the battle ahead. Worst case scenario is the side effects are so bad that I can't take it and I quit the treatment and put up with the side effects of the HEP C until some of the new treaments become available. Best case scenario is a year from now the treatment has worked the HEP C is gone my HIV is still undetectable and I'm back to the good life again.
But wait! NO LIE HERE - as I am sitting here writing this I get a call from my GI guy (he's one of the best and I'm lucky to have him treating me)... he's gotten the results from some tests I did last week (I've got a mental block against what they were named but it involved the consumption of a large quantity of that lovely beverage BARIUM and if I ever catch up with the douche who came up with that stuff he's gonna pay dearly...) and the results weren't so great. Aside from confirming that I am "full of shit" (something my friends have often asserted about me) the test results also indicated that I may have gall bladder trouble and it ("it" being the gall bladder") may have to come out before we can begin the HEP treatments. I don't know why but my response has been an hour of laughing non stop and marvelling at the absurdity of this all. I mean I have never been a drinker (which isn't too say I haven't had a drink once in a while or been drunk a couple of times but those times have been VERY rare in my life). I've never been an IV drug user. So what kind of sick joke is this that's being played on me here eh? I get it... it's funny but jeeeeez.... enough is enough already. I'm fairly sure the uncontrollable laughter I am experiencing is at the very least a sign of hysteria if not an indicator of the beginning of a full blown mental breakdown but I'm seeing enough doctors right now and there's no more room on my schedule for any more doctor appointments or any more space in my belly for any more pills. They'll just have to deal with the psychotic laughter...
Oh well... let the battle begin. I'm up for it. I just hope this stupid little virus knows what it's up against.
To all of you who are on or have already been down this path you are my inspirations and my heroes... to those of you who are at the start of this battle let's have at it... time's a wasting and time is something that should never be wasted. We can be each other's strength and the one's who have gone before us can mark our goaline and cheer us on to victory. We can all slay the dragon before us if we just believe and never give up.
Peace and thanks to you all for being my friends and family without ever even realizing it.
Oh and special thanks to Phil for creating a place like this for freaks like us... get well bud I need to see you and your friends playing again SOON!! In the early 90's before Jerry passed there were times when literally the only thing that kept me alive was knowing the Grateful Dead were coming to RFK and I HAD to be well enough to see you guys play at least one more time... your music revitalized me (and so many others )then just as it does now... so thanks for keeping me alive!
Well here I go on a journey I wasn't expecting and really really don't want to go on. But I'm already on the path and as I've always said "if you can't go over something or under it or around it then the only way is to go through it" so off I go. Seems I tested positive for Hep C about 2 years ago. Don't know for sure how I got it and it doesn't matter anyway the end result is still the same. Got no one but myself to blame and all that crap. So we've been tracking my numbers since I tested positive, hoping I might be one of those rare lucky ones who just beats it without treatment. No such luck... after a few minor drops the VL started climbing like my liver was Mt. freaking Everest and it HAD to make it to the top before winter set in. Annoying little bastards. If I could I would get a shrink ray gun and shrink myself down to their size and go in and kick their butts myself but I digress... We had good reason to hope I was going to be one of the lucky ones because I am a long term survivor of HIV (I got it back before it even had a name) and have a history of surviving and thriving through things that normal people don't. Great - so I'm not normal. How very wonderful lol. Again I digress. I do that a lot. Anyway... bottom line is the time has come and it's time to start THE TREATMENT. Ugh! Peg Infuron once a week and a bunch of pills every day (like I don't take enough freaking pills every day as it is because of the HIV). Swell. High probability I'll feel like crap for a couple of days after the shot EVERY FREAKING WEEK FOR 48 WEEKS. Oh joy! High probability my HIV numbers (which have been undetectable for years and years now) will go FREAKING NUTS! Wow... this is sounding more and more enticing all the time ain't it? Pretty good chance that the treatment will mess up my thyroid and other important organs I might be wanting to continue to use in the future. Yeeeehaaa! Decent chance that my hair may fall out too thanks to the treatment. AHA! I got that one beat... I ALREADY SHAVED MY HEAD!! SO THERE! NYAHHH...
The truth is that the chance of success with this treatment is not all that great even for healthy people... for a LTS of HIV (that's Long Term Survivor of AIDS for those of you who don't know - aka known as "F*CK AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD DUDE?") the chances of success are statistically very low. But like I said I've beaten a lot of odds this is just one more uphill battle I have to fight. The one thing I learned early on when I found out I had HIV was that your mental approach to things makes all the difference. I BELIEVED I would beat it and I did. All of my friends at the time who tested positive believed they would die. They all did. Every last one of them. I believe that I will beat HEP C just as I have beaten HIV (as well as it can be beaten anyway). To quote my boys "I WILL GET BY I WILL SURVIVE"
Despite that belief though I admit here to a group of people that I don't even know (even though in truth that's not entirely true - we have probably danced together and smiled to one another at show after show and in some ways our souls have touched) something that I can not admit to those closest to me - I am scared as hell. I think that however is a normal and healthy response and it won't keep me from the battle ahead. Worst case scenario is the side effects are so bad that I can't take it and I quit the treatment and put up with the side effects of the HEP C until some of the new treaments become available. Best case scenario is a year from now the treatment has worked the HEP C is gone my HIV is still undetectable and I'm back to the good life again.
But wait! NO LIE HERE - as I am sitting here writing this I get a call from my GI guy (he's one of the best and I'm lucky to have him treating me)... he's gotten the results from some tests I did last week (I've got a mental block against what they were named but it involved the consumption of a large quantity of that lovely beverage BARIUM and if I ever catch up with the douche who came up with that stuff he's gonna pay dearly...) and the results weren't so great. Aside from confirming that I am "full of shit" (something my friends have often asserted about me) the test results also indicated that I may have gall bladder trouble and it ("it" being the gall bladder") may have to come out before we can begin the HEP treatments. I don't know why but my response has been an hour of laughing non stop and marvelling at the absurdity of this all. I mean I have never been a drinker (which isn't too say I haven't had a drink once in a while or been drunk a couple of times but those times have been VERY rare in my life). I've never been an IV drug user. So what kind of sick joke is this that's being played on me here eh? I get it... it's funny but jeeeeez.... enough is enough already. I'm fairly sure the uncontrollable laughter I am experiencing is at the very least a sign of hysteria if not an indicator of the beginning of a full blown mental breakdown but I'm seeing enough doctors right now and there's no more room on my schedule for any more doctor appointments or any more space in my belly for any more pills. They'll just have to deal with the psychotic laughter...
Oh well... let the battle begin. I'm up for it. I just hope this stupid little virus knows what it's up against.
To all of you who are on or have already been down this path you are my inspirations and my heroes... to those of you who are at the start of this battle let's have at it... time's a wasting and time is something that should never be wasted. We can be each other's strength and the one's who have gone before us can mark our goaline and cheer us on to victory. We can all slay the dragon before us if we just believe and never give up.
Peace and thanks to you all for being my friends and family without ever even realizing it.
Oh and special thanks to Phil for creating a place like this for freaks like us... get well bud I need to see you and your friends playing again SOON!! In the early 90's before Jerry passed there were times when literally the only thing that kept me alive was knowing the Grateful Dead were coming to RFK and I HAD to be well enough to see you guys play at least one more time... your music revitalized me (and so many others )then just as it does now... so thanks for keeping me alive!
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Be-In Again
Turn on
Tune in
Drop out
Today marks the 40th anniversary of the "Gathering of the Tribes for a Human Be-In" in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park... the event that ushered in the "Summer of Love" and the counter-culture movement of the late 1960's. Flower Power! Peace and Love! Woodstock (the cool one not the 2 ripoff sequels)! Civil Rights! TWIGGY!
So what the hell happened?
The assasinations of JFK, MLK, RFK, Malcom X, the war in Vietnam, the deaths of Jimi, Janis, and Jim Morrison, the breakup of The Beatles, Kent State, Charlie Manson, NIXON. You name it... everything went KABLOOOOIE in a big way. And with all that pressure on the roof, the house was bound to cave in so to speak. Everybody abandoned the GREATER DREAM for the GREAT AMERICAN DREAM. Instead of turning on, tuning in and dropping out they opted to turn OFF, tune OUT, and drop IN to the great illusion/delusion. They sold out so they could buy all the material things that screamed I'M A SUCCESS and I'M BETTER THAN YOU. They kept up with the Jones' at the expense of their beliefs and the good of the world and society around them. They sold out to convenience and excess. They sacrificed the dreams and hopes they had for a better society in return for a better life for themselves. Instead of playing the game they became the game. They became citizen comrades. They bought the government cheese and begged for more.
But there's still hope. Trapped inside of each and everyone of these corporate drones still lives an old hippie waiting to be reborn.
So QUESTION AUTHORITY! Not just today but everyday. Don't believe everything you are told. Don't believe everything you see. In fact don't believe ANYTHING you are told or see. Research for yourselves. THINK FOR YOURSELVES! Do it now while it's still legal.
Tune in
Drop out
Today marks the 40th anniversary of the "Gathering of the Tribes for a Human Be-In" in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park... the event that ushered in the "Summer of Love" and the counter-culture movement of the late 1960's. Flower Power! Peace and Love! Woodstock (the cool one not the 2 ripoff sequels)! Civil Rights! TWIGGY!
So what the hell happened?
The assasinations of JFK, MLK, RFK, Malcom X, the war in Vietnam, the deaths of Jimi, Janis, and Jim Morrison, the breakup of The Beatles, Kent State, Charlie Manson, NIXON. You name it... everything went KABLOOOOIE in a big way. And with all that pressure on the roof, the house was bound to cave in so to speak. Everybody abandoned the GREATER DREAM for the GREAT AMERICAN DREAM. Instead of turning on, tuning in and dropping out they opted to turn OFF, tune OUT, and drop IN to the great illusion/delusion. They sold out so they could buy all the material things that screamed I'M A SUCCESS and I'M BETTER THAN YOU. They kept up with the Jones' at the expense of their beliefs and the good of the world and society around them. They sold out to convenience and excess. They sacrificed the dreams and hopes they had for a better society in return for a better life for themselves. Instead of playing the game they became the game. They became citizen comrades. They bought the government cheese and begged for more.
But there's still hope. Trapped inside of each and everyone of these corporate drones still lives an old hippie waiting to be reborn.
So QUESTION AUTHORITY! Not just today but everyday. Don't believe everything you are told. Don't believe everything you see. In fact don't believe ANYTHING you are told or see. Research for yourselves. THINK FOR YOURSELVES! Do it now while it's still legal.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
OH YESSS NANCY!
Ok so I'm getting ready to go to sleep tonite and I make the horrible mistake of flipping on CNN to check in on my sex kitten Nancy Grace. I knew I shouldn't have. Nancy for me is like great porn is for a sex addict or maybe a cute altar boy is for a priest (I know I know... that was wrong wasn't it?). But nevertheless I did it. I've got a serious Nancy habit and it MUST BE FED! Chances are I won't be able to sleep tonight... I'm going to be having one major prolonged mental orgasm over this one...
Here's the story:
A woman in Orlando and her husband who have a young baby are breaking up. Husband and his brother are at the house getting some of the husband things. Wife is distraught(not to mention drunk). At some point the husband's brother asks the wife "where is the baby?". The wife doesn't respond. The husband and his brother quickly locate the GREASED BABY in a 400 degree oven in the kitchen. Baby is saved, wife is arrested, husband gets his stuff (I guess). But Nancy is on a RAMPAGE and that's when she really gets me HOT! Now Nancy has on her show an EXPERT in psychology who is trying to explain to the oh-so-indignant Nancy that this poor woman has a mental disorder. Nancy's response is to scream something about not understanding how this could be considered a "psychotic" reaction. The EXPERT tries to make Nancy understand that greasing up and trying to bake your baby is probably a pretty strong indicator of a psychotic episode but of course our Great Lady Nancy The Superior won't have any of it and eventually dismisses the expert altogether in favor of other unknown Yentas that share the same opinions that she does. I think Stepford is missing some of it's women... But it gets better. Then Nancy gets herself in a tizzy about the fact that this woman will be getting out of jail on a $1500 bond and that maybe she will try to cook and eat her baby again! "BUT", says Nancy, "before she gets out she will be getting a nice meal in jail of Turkey and Gravy and sweet potatoes and vegetables and even some sort of dessert!" My guess is Nancy was thinking to herself "How DARE they feed this horrible insane woman? She has a child all greased up and ready to eat when she gets home doesnt she?" Hmmmm... I wonder what the crazy lady used for seasoning the baby? (I know I know... that was wrong...)
Oh I soooooooo want to be that bitch Nancy Grace!
I need a tissue now...
Here's the story:
A woman in Orlando and her husband who have a young baby are breaking up. Husband and his brother are at the house getting some of the husband things. Wife is distraught(not to mention drunk). At some point the husband's brother asks the wife "where is the baby?". The wife doesn't respond. The husband and his brother quickly locate the GREASED BABY in a 400 degree oven in the kitchen. Baby is saved, wife is arrested, husband gets his stuff (I guess). But Nancy is on a RAMPAGE and that's when she really gets me HOT! Now Nancy has on her show an EXPERT in psychology who is trying to explain to the oh-so-indignant Nancy that this poor woman has a mental disorder. Nancy's response is to scream something about not understanding how this could be considered a "psychotic" reaction. The EXPERT tries to make Nancy understand that greasing up and trying to bake your baby is probably a pretty strong indicator of a psychotic episode but of course our Great Lady Nancy The Superior won't have any of it and eventually dismisses the expert altogether in favor of other unknown Yentas that share the same opinions that she does. I think Stepford is missing some of it's women... But it gets better. Then Nancy gets herself in a tizzy about the fact that this woman will be getting out of jail on a $1500 bond and that maybe she will try to cook and eat her baby again! "BUT", says Nancy, "before she gets out she will be getting a nice meal in jail of Turkey and Gravy and sweet potatoes and vegetables and even some sort of dessert!" My guess is Nancy was thinking to herself "How DARE they feed this horrible insane woman? She has a child all greased up and ready to eat when she gets home doesnt she?" Hmmmm... I wonder what the crazy lady used for seasoning the baby? (I know I know... that was wrong...)
Oh I soooooooo want to be that bitch Nancy Grace!
I need a tissue now...
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
My Secret Indulgence
I have a deep dark secret that I can no longer keep inside... it's eating me alive and I can't take it anymore!
So here it goes... deeeeep breath...
I AM IN LOVE WITH NANCY GRACE!
I know it's wrong. I know I need help. Here I am a flaming liberal and yet I can't help but finding myself soooooooooo turned on by Nancy.
I can't help myself... she's just so deliciously self righteous and superior and opinionated and just perfectly evil. It's mesmerizing.
Late at night when everyone is asleep I like to spend some quiet time watching Nancy while I rub one out as she works herself into one of her supremely erotic frenzies while she attacks people who are mentally unbalanced, falsely accused, and generally just not as fortunate to have the upbringing and opportunities she has had in life.
Ohhhhhhhh Naaaaancy....PLEASE... just be a little more superior...I'M ALMOST THERE!!!
oh yeaaa that was good - now let me get a tissue and a bottle of whiskey to drown my shame in...
So here it goes... deeeeep breath...
I AM IN LOVE WITH NANCY GRACE!
I know it's wrong. I know I need help. Here I am a flaming liberal and yet I can't help but finding myself soooooooooo turned on by Nancy.
I can't help myself... she's just so deliciously self righteous and superior and opinionated and just perfectly evil. It's mesmerizing.
Late at night when everyone is asleep I like to spend some quiet time watching Nancy while I rub one out as she works herself into one of her supremely erotic frenzies while she attacks people who are mentally unbalanced, falsely accused, and generally just not as fortunate to have the upbringing and opportunities she has had in life.
Ohhhhhhhh Naaaaancy....PLEASE... just be a little more superior...I'M ALMOST THERE!!!
oh yeaaa that was good - now let me get a tissue and a bottle of whiskey to drown my shame in...
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Nice Apocalypse We're Having eh?
Recently I have been hearing a lot of people making comments like "Nice weather we're having" or "it's a beautiful day today" and so on...
It kind of creeps me out. You see I don't live in Florida or Hawaii or Southern California or any of those nice southern places where weather like this might be considered at least somewhat normal. I live in Washington DC. It's not April here. It's January 5th at 1 AM and the weather is in the MID 60's!
Mission control... I think we may have a problem. Something is amiss... Something has gone horrible awry here folks.
This isn't "nice weather" it isn't a "beautiful day" - the truth is it's F**KING FREAKY and if any of the people who say these things had any sense whatsoever they'd be hiding under their beds and praying to whatever GOD they believe in while they wait for it to start raining frogs outside. But nooooooo... instead they revel blindly in the newest signs of the impending environmental disaster that is about to reshape our planet. But hey at least we'll all have great tans for the apocalypse eh?
go here and learn something while you still can http://www.climatecrisis.net
It kind of creeps me out. You see I don't live in Florida or Hawaii or Southern California or any of those nice southern places where weather like this might be considered at least somewhat normal. I live in Washington DC. It's not April here. It's January 5th at 1 AM and the weather is in the MID 60's!
Mission control... I think we may have a problem. Something is amiss... Something has gone horrible awry here folks.
This isn't "nice weather" it isn't a "beautiful day" - the truth is it's F**KING FREAKY and if any of the people who say these things had any sense whatsoever they'd be hiding under their beds and praying to whatever GOD they believe in while they wait for it to start raining frogs outside. But nooooooo... instead they revel blindly in the newest signs of the impending environmental disaster that is about to reshape our planet. But hey at least we'll all have great tans for the apocalypse eh?
go here and learn something while you still can http://www.climatecrisis.net
Friday, January 05, 2007
New Year
Ok... so it's a NEW YEAR. I guess I should have some resolutions. Actually I have a few in mind but I am kind of on the fence as to how realistic they are and how serious I am about keeping them. It's not like I have a lot of bad habits anyway... I'm not overweight so losing a few pounds isn't on my list. I don't drink so ditto there. I'm not a smoker so nothing there. Really my biggest fault is I am lazy as hell and have been all my life. I don't really think that's going to change so that's not on the list. And besides, that's also a good excuse for putting off my resolutions for a while... actually I like to wait until somewhere near the end of the year to really commit to that year's Resolutions. That way I'm more likely to pick ones that I am less likely to break... after all if I've made it 3/4 of the way through the year without doing something I shouldn't or I have done something to better myself then I am probably not going to mess it up in the last couple of months of the year. It's a good policy and I am sticking with it.
Of course this has all been a joke... I don't DO New Year's Resolutions. Why should I? After all I am already perfect and why would I want to mess with that?
Maybe I should seek out a good shrink this year... lol
Of course this has all been a joke... I don't DO New Year's Resolutions. Why should I? After all I am already perfect and why would I want to mess with that?
Maybe I should seek out a good shrink this year... lol
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Alabama Fried Chicken?
Generic Southern Fried Chicken?
Ok so I am watching TV tonight late. I do that a lot... I'm kind of an insomniac but that's not the focus of this here post... the point is the stupid strange shit I notice when I am watching late night TV. Maybe I am able to focus more on the stupid stuff I see late at night because there are less things to distract from it... I dunno.
Anyway... so I am watching late night TV and on comes a commercial for Kentucky Fried Chicken. Looks tasty! Makes me want some. Only wait... there aren't any KFC's open at this time of night anywhere near here... why are they torturing me like that with a commercial for something I CAN'T GET? But that wasn't the real stupidity of the commercial. Oh noooooo... that was just the warm up stupidity. I notice in the background of the commercial a very familiar song and I think to myself... "hmmmm... self.... what IS that song? I remember it being really big when I was a teenager... what was that song? hmmm.... OH WAIT!! I REMEMBER...IT'S SWEET HOME ALABAMA!"
That's right...A-L-A-B-A-M-A. ALABAMA...
But wait... this is a commercial for KENTUCKY Fried Chicken. The song they are using is Sweet Home ALABAMA.
I am soooooooooo confused now. I'm not eating their food anymore because I find their whole operation highly suspicious now specifically because of that commercial. Something is VERY fishy at KFC (or AFC or whatever/wherever the hell they are). Oh wait... it can't be fishy they're a chicken joint.
Now I am even more confused... is it Kentucky or Alabama? Is it chicken or fish (or some strange genetically enhanced chicken mutant creature?)
Maybe it's Soylent Green. All I know is I'm not hungry anymore.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Depression
In her most recent HBO Comedy Special Blond and Bitchin', Rosanne Barr made a comment that, while very funny, made a lot of sense. She was talking about anti-depressants and how she hates them all. And then she posed the question - "Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe we are SUPPOSED to be depressed?? That maybe the world is soooooo fucked up that you should be depressed?" And you know if you think about it she's right on the mark. I believe the world is SERIOUSLY FUCKED UP and our resulting depression and anxiety is a NATURAL RESPONSE to these conditions that would normally cause us as a collective to WAKE THE FUCK UP and fix things before it's too late. Only problem is we have numbed ourselves to our natural response to the fucked up world around us by taking drugs that make EVERYTHING OK despite the fact that everything ISN'T OK. After all it is easier to take a pill than it is to take action in this world.
Geez now I'm depressed... I need a Xanax and a beer...
Geez now I'm depressed... I need a Xanax and a beer...
Hypocrisy
Recently South Park aired an episode that caused a lot of controversy. The episode centered around a big and extremely exclusive birthday costume party being thrown by Satan. The majority of the episode focused on Satan planning his party to be the biggest coolest bash EVER as he behaved like a whiny 16 year old girl about his outfit and the Ferrari cake he HAS to have and so forth. The controversy had nothing to do with any of that however... what got people insane was a bit that lasted less than a minute. As the party is going in full swing and Satan is greeting his guests none other than Steve Irwin - complete with a stingray barb through his chest - shows up. Satan looks at him and after a moment says "Dude...it's too soon... that's not funny... you're going to have to leave" (or something to that effect) to which Irwin replies "But I REALLY AM Steve Irwin!". After a moment Satan tells him he still has to leave because he HAS NO COSTUME (which I found really funny). It was that brief. But that's all it took to make people around the country go completely bonkers. Keep in mind Steve Irwin had just died a week or two before this episode was aired. People were calling for an apology from the creators of South Park (yea right... good luck with that!). People were calling for an apology from Comedy Central (South Park is their cash cow so don't expect any apology from them either). People were even calling for Comedy Central to CANCEL South Park altogether (NOT GONNA HAPPEN). And of course all of them were screaming "It's TOOOO SOOOON!"
Too soon eh? Hmmmmm... in that very same amount of time Bindi Irwin (the 8 year old daughter of Steve) had done numerous public appearances and work on a mini-series for Discovery Channel and has just released a kid's exercise video and is planning appearances for early January here in the US as well as several festivals in Australia. So apparently it's too soon to laugh about an admittedly strange (and kind of amusing) death but it isn't too soon for momma Irwin to exploit the living hell out of an 8 year old who should be playing on a swing set and not playing with snakes for paying crowds of hypocritical schmucks.
All I can say is "CRIKEY!"
Too soon eh? Hmmmmm... in that very same amount of time Bindi Irwin (the 8 year old daughter of Steve) had done numerous public appearances and work on a mini-series for Discovery Channel and has just released a kid's exercise video and is planning appearances for early January here in the US as well as several festivals in Australia. So apparently it's too soon to laugh about an admittedly strange (and kind of amusing) death but it isn't too soon for momma Irwin to exploit the living hell out of an 8 year old who should be playing on a swing set and not playing with snakes for paying crowds of hypocritical schmucks.
All I can say is "CRIKEY!"
Fire
This past weekend there was a very sad story in the news about a family living in a mobile home in West Virginia who were all killed in a fire caused by the kerosene heater they used to help keep warm. A forty year old man, his 36 year old wife and three small children all fell victim to the smoke and fire. Very tragic to be sure. Their home was burned pretty much to the ground with nothing left but ashes and bits of their burnt possessions. Naturally their neighbors and loved one were and are overcome with grief and sadness and needed a way to express those feelings. I'm embarrassed to admit that the way some of them expressed their emotion left me laughing hysterically for the rest of the news report. I know I'm not right in the head but hear me out - what some of these grief stricken folks did was to LEAVE LIT CANDLES at the burned out home of these poor people. Now I don't know about you but I don't really think bringing FIRE to a site where a family has just died in a FIRE is really such a good idea. My friends have argued that they were just trying to be thoughtful but i disagree with that BS. What they were doing was pure reaction without thought. They were doing what is common and traditional, despite the underlying inappropriateness of it. If they had been thinking they should have realized that the site of little burning flames on the site where people's friend's and family members just died from a fire might not be the most comforting image. Balloons maybe... teddy bears... flowers are always a nice touch. Really the most appropriate thing to leave would probably had been wreaths. But candles? FIRE?? uhm... I just can't help but find that incredibly funny. I mean, given what had already happened there maybe leaving a fire extinguisher there would be a good idea - especially with people leaving unattended candles there.
I know I'm not right in the head but that's just the way I think...
I know I'm not right in the head but that's just the way I think...
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Dumbing of the Nation
Here's some food for thought:
30 years ago this country elected a President who had been a NUCLEAR ENGINEER in the military. His name was Jimmy Carter.
30 years later we have a President who was appointed by the US Supreme Court (but not actually elected for the job in any way) who CAN'T EVEN PRONOUNCE THE WORD NUCLEAR!
If this thought doesn't make you EXTREMELY uneasy then there is a pretty good chance that you have fallen victim to the DUMBING OF THIS NATION. Heck - you might even be partially responsible for this disturbing trend towards idiocy and mediocrity. It's ok - the good ole US Government has been conditioning us for this for many a year so it's not really our faults. We shop at Walmart (mostly because we can't afford to shop anywhere else anymore), we eat "Fast Food" by the tons (and are well on our way to weighing tons in the process), we mindlessly (and in some cases joyfully) rape and destroy the very environment that allows us to exist, and so on and so on...
In the words of the immortal Frank Zappa - "People, we is dumb ALL OVER! (and maybe even a little ugly on the side)"
And as Timothy Leary was so famous for saying - "QUESTION AUTHORITY!! THINK FOR YOURSELVES!"
In the end you (and your obnoxious offspring) will be glad you did...
30 years ago this country elected a President who had been a NUCLEAR ENGINEER in the military. His name was Jimmy Carter.
30 years later we have a President who was appointed by the US Supreme Court (but not actually elected for the job in any way) who CAN'T EVEN PRONOUNCE THE WORD NUCLEAR!
If this thought doesn't make you EXTREMELY uneasy then there is a pretty good chance that you have fallen victim to the DUMBING OF THIS NATION. Heck - you might even be partially responsible for this disturbing trend towards idiocy and mediocrity. It's ok - the good ole US Government has been conditioning us for this for many a year so it's not really our faults. We shop at Walmart (mostly because we can't afford to shop anywhere else anymore), we eat "Fast Food" by the tons (and are well on our way to weighing tons in the process), we mindlessly (and in some cases joyfully) rape and destroy the very environment that allows us to exist, and so on and so on...
In the words of the immortal Frank Zappa - "People, we is dumb ALL OVER! (and maybe even a little ugly on the side)"
And as Timothy Leary was so famous for saying - "QUESTION AUTHORITY!! THINK FOR YOURSELVES!"
In the end you (and your obnoxious offspring) will be glad you did...
Saturday, July 29, 2006
REALITY
Click on the link in the title (or just click on it here - http://www.hereinreality.com/).
Read it.
Re-read it.
Get a dictionary if needed to help you understand some of the words that have more than 7 or 8 letters in them (I know I know - BIG WORDS ARE JUST SOOO HARD TO SAY AND EVEN HARDER TO UNDERSTAND!)
Then click on this link here ---->http://www.hereinreality.com/911/ - download the brochure (you're gonna need Acrobat Reader for it - it's a free download and you should already have it on your computer anyway you schmuck).
Read the brochure.
Re-read the brochure.
Distribute a million copies of the brochure.
And when election time rolls around how about maybe actually researching the issues our nation is facing and making informed decisions when you (theoretically) go to vote (which most of you can't be bothered to do anyway).
Ehhh.. never mind don't bother doing any research - just use your common sense and
Read it.
Re-read it.
Get a dictionary if needed to help you understand some of the words that have more than 7 or 8 letters in them (I know I know - BIG WORDS ARE JUST SOOO HARD TO SAY AND EVEN HARDER TO UNDERSTAND!)
Then click on this link here ---->http://www.hereinreality.com/911/ - download the brochure (you're gonna need Acrobat Reader for it - it's a free download and you should already have it on your computer anyway you schmuck).
Read the brochure.
Re-read the brochure.
Distribute a million copies of the brochure.
And when election time rolls around how about maybe actually researching the issues our nation is facing and making informed decisions when you (theoretically) go to vote (which most of you can't be bothered to do anyway).
Ehhh.. never mind don't bother doing any research - just use your common sense and
DON'T VOTE REPUBLICAN
(and do the country a favor and don't vote for the 3rd party douchebag who doesnt have a snowballs chance in hell of winning because you somehow have gotten it into your head that doing so makes some sort of statement that matters... you schmucks are just making things easier for the Neo Nazi pricks who are quietly shredding the US Constitution while they laugh at your stupid futile gesture against THE SYSTEM. Yea I agree this country needs more than 2 parties but right now let's just concentrate on getting our country back from the ultra right wing scumbags and corporate barons that we handed the keys over to when we let the Supreme Court pick the President instead of letting the people decide)
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