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conciliatory music

weight log: 221lbs

All of you to whom I can extend solidarity – a conciliatory anthem as a proactive apology for any potential offense…

Ode to the disappearing vegetarian

Dearest vegetarian

I admire your enthusiasm

no foul fowl, no bad beef, or dumb duck, or ludicrous lamb

no head cheese and No ham

really no ham – really?

“take arms against a sea of troubles and, by opposing, end them”

imagine a world in which meat is not eaten

imagine that meat is for the rebels the cretin

imagine all the people living life that way

some might say that you’re a dreamer

but you’re not the only one

imagine if everyone

didn’t eat meat

who would be the dreamer when everyone dreams the same dream

it’s easy if you try

Dear vegetarian,

please don’t win this war on flesh

what a shame to lose the honour of your rebellion

and have it given over to those who might fight for the right to eat meat

and then my glorious resistance friend

you’d meet your vegetarian end…

 

So here is the question that bears asking after a stupid little tongue in cheek ditty like this…”When is resistance meaningful?”

Boxes and Baals

You might excuse him as naïve but truth-be-told he just really wasn’t all that sensitive – you know intentionally observant. If he had been, he never would have moved that old wooden box down into the storage room. Spoiling for a quarrel was never his intention.
He had a good reason.
The box had been in the way for several months and for all that time he and his buddies had carefully moved their musical equipment around it to avoid scratches. Drums and guitars and keyboards couldn’t just be left lying around after practice – they would certainly get into trouble for that. So the box quickly became a nuisance. Without it present in the storage room their mobility and space would be greatly enhanced. So one night after grumbling their equipment past it once again – they all stopped and someone suggested they should get rid of the box.
He made the call to send the box downstairs. He knew of a place where it would fit out of the way. So with the assistance of a couple of the guys he packed it away – down there. Slapping their hands together with that sense of authoritative satisfaction they marched back up stairs to finish their packing up…
That was Saturday night…
Monday morning dawned and he obliviously sauntered into his office without even a thought of the box or the impending conflict.
The man was waiting for him in his office. Normally meek the man was, at this moment, obviously agitated – in the way a well shook Pepsi can is before the unsuspecting person opens it. He was clearly upset.
He had a good reason.
You see the box was, as the man described it, not just a piece of furniture and certainly not just a box. It was a pulpit and this pulpit had been present at the consecration of the building in which it resided. It was invested with special spiritual meaning although what specifically that meaning was the man found it difficult to explain.
Taken off guard he wandered around the topic with the man till it became clear that nothing less than the immediate relocation of the box would do.
Chagrined he wrapped his arms around the box once more and carried the box back with the man to its place not in the off-stage storage room but to the very center of the stage.
As he glanced around room standing there he wondered about why people seem to need certain implements to access God. He had learned much earlier in his career has a minister that wearing a tie on a Sunday when he stood behind that box and preached seemed to help some people to listen more closely to what he said. It seemed to him that for some God needed to be confined at least somewhat to certain restricted locations and parameters. It seemed sad to him that after all these years since the veil had been torn in that temple long ago there where still those who preferred to encounter God at a distance.
He remembered the story in the Great Book that told of how Israel had pleaded with Moses to cover himself when he spoke to them after having encountered God directly. He thought about how easily those same people erected a golden calf to worship in the place of God. And he remembered the words of Jesus to the Samaritan woman when he told her that God could not be confined to one holy mountain or another but was to be worshiped in spirit and in truth. And his heart grew with acrid condemnation for the man.
He walked down to favourite spot in the youth meeting room and picked up his guitar – to clear his mind he reasoned – to connect with God…

Regina Spektor

Hey check out the video on the right. Certainly thought provoking...

Ryan posted the lyrics of the here

mother mother

Mother Mother - O My Heart

So I heard these guys on Q this morning and I was impressed - listen to the pocast of the show here

Yesterday…

…I was singing some random 80's tune and Lukas interrupted me and said, "Dad, stop singing! You suck at singing!"

"I do not!" I chirped back.

"Yes you do!" he said picking up on the chance to needle his dad.

"Well," I said feeling a trump card coming on, "I sang good enough to make a CD."

Pause. He wasn't quite sure where to go with that one. "No you did not!" he said.

"Yup, I did!"

"Well then prove it!"

So I went rummaging around in the CD closet to see if I could locate a copy of the "More Than a Song" CD. I found one. Removed the cellophane wrapping and proceeded to show my son the evidence on the liner notes that I was actually a part of the project. And I also subjected him to listen to the disc. I'm really not sure if he was impressed at all but I had at least emerged victorious from his challenge.

The memories came flooding back for me and I lost myself in those scenes flashing through my mind. The 2 am hours at the studio mastering. The song selection process. The venue where we recorded the songs live. The overdubs. It all came flooding back to me.

I remember driving home from the studio directly to Ryan's house to check out the recently mastered copy. We made 500 copies of that thing for crying out loud.

And that is it. I vacillate between pride and bewilderment when I think of that project. It was a pretty cool project for group of hacks to put together an album of songs. We had some awesome help with the project and in truth there are still places on some of the tracks where I think it sounds pretty dang good.

But like Ryan said – there are a lot of places where the lyrics of the songs we sang are pathetically self centered and even in some cases untrue. But more than that there is a personal twinge that tugs at me every time I think of that project. I think about how the process of making it really became a sore spot between Char and me. I think about how to her it seemed like I was placing this project as a higher priority over her. I think about how I defended the 'sacrifices' I made to get it all done. And to my greatest embarrassment – how I pinned some pretty unrealistic hopes of grandeur on this CD thing panning out. I feel like a fool in that way.

I would never give up the years I had playing with those friends of mine. It was grand. But it wasn't more than it was. It was shortly after producing this CD that a stark revelation radically changed my perspective on life. One day I remember waking up and thinking that the greatest accomplishment I could ever achieve would be my success as a father. That put all of my egotistical nightmares in the place where they belonged.

So when my son comes up to me and tells me I can't sing and wants to start a good natured tête-à-tête with me – it makes me feel really good. Cause I am his dad. And you there is always the meteoric rise to fame that my "confession videos" will bring me. Oh yeah – Check that out!!!

Here's the little tag piece that somehow got onto the back end of the CD as hidden track. I thought it was appropriate!

this blog site has been lacking

enough 80's content and plumbers crack

Music for when I'm gone...

I'm not sure if this is morbid or egotistical or just plain dumb but here goes. I have noticed that music plays a central role in how a person's memory is preserved at the public and private rituals that mark someone's passing. Essentially any 'closing ceremony' is for the benefit of those who remain. So perhaps there is no point in constructing this list - since it will obviously not be for my benefit nor will I have any actual control over how these ceremonies transpire. However, I rationalize this project in the following ways:

1. I assume in the midst of loss having a 'set list' to choose from might be a nice resource to have.

2. I would like to think that through the use of music that is meaningful to me - I could have some referential influence on the tone of the ceremonies.

3. This list in a small way helps me face the eventuality of death (a prospect that still makes me pretty nervous - I won't lie)

Here it is:

One Day I Walk -- Bruce Cockburn

I Don't Care -- Mary Margaret O'Hara

When People Go -- Craig Cardiff

Ojala Que Llueva Cafe -- Juan Luis Guerra

Whole Wide World -- Wreckless Eric

Intervention -- Arcade Fire

Luscious Life -- Patrick Watson

Glósóli -- Sigur Ros

All I Can Do -- Chantal Kreviazuk

Hamburg Song -- Keane

Into the Mystic - Van Morrison

Leah -- Toto

It's The Final Countdown -- Europe

and it would seem to feel good if I could be laid to rest while someone played "Gabriel's Oboe" -- Ennio Morricone

so there it is kind reader. Feel free to post your songs in the comments section. Or make this into a meme. If you have a blog why not post your own list there...

Tribute to my wife and her ilk...

Dignity is rare. All too often we get duped by masquerading frauds like selfish ambition, individualism, and the proclivity toward the self-alienation of personal comfort. The curious thing about dignity is it is impossible to achieve in one's own efforts - we are all subject to the whim of others for its endowment in our lives. There are many things we can do to disenfranchise ourselves from receiving dignity - and unfortunately we all done enough to disqualify ourselves from it. So dignity becomes an act of grace.

There is little else that is as undignified as the prospective loss of my waste elimination system. I can't imagine a how a diaper could help me maintain a sense of personal poise. Age is feared as the harbinger of death but even more it is old age that is feared as that period of time when we will eventually lose the ability to corral the resources of our personality to cover up the ugliness we've closeted all our lives. And nastiest of all is the fact that we WON'T be dead - to avoid it all.

Some of what I enjoy most about our new life, is the stories that Char regales me with. Ever so careful not break any issues of confidentiality she tells me the sad, funny, frightening, surprising and frustrating stories of the lives of the 'clients' on her case load. She is devoted to doing her job to the best of her ability but she really is not interested in her own track record. I can tell as she talks about the man with schizophrenia who is dying of cancer that she really is an agent of dignity. It could be that case after case might eventually wear her into that jaded dark suspicion that runs rampant in the 'caring' professions. People always ask me how my wife is doing. I usually tell them that she loves her job. But I realized something today she does not love her job so much as she loves the people she gets a chance to care for - and I know she is real good at bringing them dignity.

A lot of this sorta came together for me tonight when I was doing some investigating about a new documentary I heard about on the radio today. Here's a video and some links to a few other things related to the Young@Heart octogenarian chorus. Enjoy!

Stayin Alive

I wanna be sedated

dedicated to Char on the marking of 29 years of adoration...

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
And true, it may seem like a stretch, but
Its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when you're away when I am missing you to death
When you are out there on the road for
Several weeks of shows and when you scan
The radio, I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great
Heights, 'come down now,' they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away,
'come down now,' but we'll stay...

I tried my best to leave this all on your
Machine but the persistent beat it sounded
Thin upon listening
And that frankly will not fly. You will hear
The shrillest highs and lowest lows with
The windows down when this is guiding you home
ht: Mark Willms
check out this cool accapella version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dK2Qrvhh8A

The Postal Service - Against All Odds

One of the best remakes of an eighties song. check out the original here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjt0av-GWak

one semester of spanish spanish love song

I found it

I am posting this for Naomi and Michelle - 14 years ago this was a constant request of theirs. They asked me to perform the "Mistadobalina" dance. It was magic to behold - hehe!

The track is - Mistadobalina by Del tha Funky Homosapien - it made top forty around about the summer of 1992-93

autumn

Autumn leaves under frozen soles,
Hungry hands turning soft and old,
My hero cried as we stood out there in the cold,
Like these autumn leaves I don't have nothing to hold.

Handsome smiles wearing handsome shoes,
Too young to say, though I swear he knew,
And I hear him singing while he sits there in his chair,
Now these autumn leaves float around everywhere.

And I look at you, and I see me,
Making noise so restlessly,
But now it's quiet and I can hear you saying,
'My little fish don't cry, my little fish don't cry.'

Autumn leaves how faded now,
that smile that I've lost, well I've found some how,
Because you still live on in my fathers eyes,
These autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves are yours tonight.

here's a fun

little result of my spanish class - especially for Tanya and Natasha -
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWA59qwfGL0

Mmmhhmmm

thanks to Everette for turning me on to this one

one more thing

check these guys out!

what I am listening to

the next family rock band

look out american idol these guys are hot new rockers



gig bookings made through your truly