Wednesday, March 26, 2003

I'm listening to some Incubus in my attempt to prepare for Wings tonight at LT's. The DJ there plays a lot of Incubus, and the lead singer of that band reminds me of Starmite, my Kazhakstan-dwelling Peace Corps hiker buddy who thru-hiked the Pacific Crest Trail last year. It's 12:40 p.m. on a bright, sunny 60-degree Wednesday afternoon and I'm thinking, whoa, dude, you haven't written in this thing since before America went to war. Everything's different now. Not really. I'm still married to the same wonderful woman, still living in the same cozy apartment, still have the same gut (though not growing, hopefully), same parents, same job (though not at the same location; my long-term sub assignment at Kishwaukee Elementary School ended 12 days ago), same fears, dreams, hopes, style....

Choir practice is going well. I've also got two more new songs in the works on the guitar, which will bring to five the total number of new compositions in the last year. Seven more and I'll have an album. Coming into my own soulfulness, and lesson to be learned as a writer from song crafting, to not take it so seriously, be full of hubris and doubt, just roll, it's all nihilistic existential waste paper heap scrap on tomorrow-ness, layer and layer and we're all organic sludge destined to the fate of the dinosaurs while the stars and blue sky laugh at our transitory ennui.... In choir, I sit next to one of these holy roller type dudes who wears a cross around his neck and a die-cast American flag pin on his lapel. He lives in Ridott, Ill., where is located the first bar I ever drank at, the name I forget, all I know is Andy and I hung out in a back room sucking back Millers and playing pool of a Friday night on a slanted table. And I remember thinking what's the big deal about bars? And still do. The tables at LT's are level, and I only go to the cheapy dollar drafts after I've had a couple Hacker-Pschorr's or Guinness. And die-cast American Flag cross wearing crew-cutted single man in his 40's I guess has a degree in music composition from some Chicago university and a couple of his compositions have been performed by the Rockford Symphony Orchestra. He's got copies of the performance and gave me one. He can also hit a low-C, a good two notes below where I bottom out on the register, unless I belch....

Let's see, life highlights 101 (in no particular odor, hmmm... bacon scent first)

March 14 -- Had Shawn Robinson and Susie Hofer over for dinner and had such a good time hanging and drinking and getting silly and watching "Life Is To Whistle" that they ended up staying all night...

March 15 -- Went to a dinner party at Ron and Sue Cincinnati's house hosted by brother Ken, theme was Ides of March and after Coq au vin main course and Pears Belle Helene dessert we played out scenes from Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar" complete with togas and crowns of laurel.

March ?? --- Many warm days lead to outdoors and exercise, especially bike riding...

22-- Had a dream come true and saw Rockford's very own Ript perform at LTs. I wrote about Ript in a previous entry. The set list is a column of words 18-point size: Waltz, Mission, Blitz, Brain, Skull, Nicole, Elvis, Highway, Sedated, Vomit, Loud, Spit, Can't Take and Don't Like. Sedated and Blitz are shortened for Blitzkrieg Bop and I Want To Be Sedated, two Ramones songs. Ironically, I was introduced to the Ramones at age 17 when I stole their greatest hits tape out of a car during one of my many crime sprees with Larry Eckmann.Ahhh... lawlessness. If I ever become super-rich the cloak of civility will be shed. Decency will always prevail, but getting a little bit of the booyah on again would be cool... Must... Break.... Stuff.....

Lots of living and breathing and loving and writing and reading and all that stuff in the interim... Gotta go.

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