Friday, February 19, 2021

Mel Washington's Beautiful Voice

 Before my son died last year, when we'd talk on the phone, he would often mentioned his friend Mel Washington to me.  I had the opportunity to meet Mel at my son's wake, and I've listened to many of his songs on the youtubes.  He has a beautiful voice, makes excellent music, and (as my son had told me in great depth) is a wonderful person.   My son Christopher was a good judge of character and didn't tolerate fools and miscreants.  He was friends with artists, craftsmen, chefs, business owners, tons of service industry workers, and myriad good human beings.  

If you've not heard Mel's work, you should take some time out of your evening or weekend, and enjoy his music online; get to know him.  If you live in or near the Holy City, you should see him live.  I don't think you'll regret it.  

We miss our son very much, every day, and some days are better than others... some harder than others. But talking to, interacting with, listening to, and appreciating the multitudes of excellent people who knew and loved our son is one positive way to keep him in our thoughts as we continue to do our best, each day.

Signal Boost:

https://www.facebook.com/melwashingtonmusic

https://www.youtube.com/user/melwashington

https://soundcloud.com/mel-washington

https://open.spotify.com/artist/1adYfKybPGfYhTFbxnGCIX

https://www.instagram.com/melwashington/

and to see him live, while you wear a mask, and socially distance...

https://www.bandsintown.com/a/156628-mel-washington

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

What Makes a Good Man - 2021 Edition

 Eight years ago, I created my first iMovie that included both John Goodman and the band The Heavy.  It also had references to Goodman diagrams, Benny Goodman, and other tangents.

https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2013/12/what-makes-goodman.html

Today, there was a wonderful story about Eugene Goodman, (link here) the Capitol policeman who lured away rabid insurrectionists from the House Chamber, up flights of stairs as the racist mob pursued him.  He's now deputy sergeant at Arms for the House, and escorted our 46th President, Joe Biden, and VP Kamala Harris to the inauguration today.  I love it when someone is good at their job, and they help others.  We need more Eugene Goodmans.  Less shamans, and less angry old guys sitting at folding tables with sad drumpf flags.  

Today was also a Fantastic Day, as Haircut 100 would say, much like it was in October 2008 when I made this post while living in Phoenix:

https://justjoep.blogspot.com/2008/10/fantastic-day.html


So this is somewhat of a recycled post of two old videos, combined with one new story, that are all part of the greater big picture.


If you're a "Q anon" supporter / enthusiast / believer, and you still don't think Joe Biden is legitimately elected, you need to DO YOUR HOMEWORK (as Q adherents LOVE to shout).  No, there's no lizard people running nations.  No, the election was not stolen just because a pathological liar repeatedly tweeted and shouted that it was - observers from Both Parties, as well as neutral and international observers all agreed, and re-counts verified, that the election was not stolen and there was no wide-spread fraud.  In the very few cases of individual voter fraud uncovered, there were mostly pathetic maga adherents who voted republican twice or voted for a dead relative.  And if you don't think Covid is real, please go out and get it to "prove everyone wrong", right after you get a legal medical directive to Not Treat You for anything resembling Covid.  You WON'T be missed.

Friday, January 15, 2021

Oh, you think the moon is real?

 

The last 4 years have seen a resurgence in people believing conspiracy theories, especially when their so-called leaders promote and encourage such asinine theories that have been disproven by science and in-depth investigation.  But it's very hard to argue with a "faith based" argument that is devoid of any scientific proof, acceptance, or knowledge.  So I propose a new tactic in dealing with willfully ignorant folks who embrace and defend their baseless conspiracy theories:  One Up them.

When someone tells you that the moon landings were faked, don't argue.  Laugh, and dismiss them with "oh, you're one of those people who think the moon is real?"  Double down on something even more ridiculous.  

Flat earthers?  "Oh, you're one of those people who believe we're on a planet called Earth?"

Lizard people, disguised as world leaders, who run our government?  (a Q-anon, aka Q-inane believes) "Oh, you think they're lizard people?  Everyone knows they're actually otters underneath those human looking suits."

Satan worshiping pedophiles who run a ring of human trafficking out of the basement of a Washington DC pizza restaurant frequented by Leon Panetta?  (another Q-inane core belief)  "Oh you think Satan worshippers eat pizza? Don't you know they're all lactose intolerant? That's why they rejected christ."

Don't argue with these devoted disciples.  Push them deeper into doubt.  Present a more ludicrous position that even the dullest knife in the drawer who abhors science and peer reviewed facts would have difficulty grappling with and trying to understand.

The 2020 election was stolen, and was actually a landslide victory for T****!  "Oh, you believe there was an actual national election last November?  All they did was have the NSA gather everyone's DNA and retina scans while they THOUGHT they were voting!  The otters controlled who won!!"





Monday, November 2, 2020

Comin Down The Mountain - Monday Morning Edition

 When my son was very little, a new band called Jane's Addiction started putting out amazing albums.  I consumed the recordings voraciously.  When we drove around in the 1975 Plymouth Valiant with more than 200K miles on it, we had a small boom box stereo on the front seat that played tapes and FM radio, since the '75's AM radio was broken.  Jane's Addiction was frequently in that boom box.  When we took our 1988 Honda Civic EX on road trips from South Carolina to OH and IN to meet relatives at holidays and vacations, Jane's was a mainstay in the tape deck (the '88 had no CD player) as well.  

Our little boy sat in his car seat in the middle of the back seat  - safest place in the car statistically - and absorbed every bit of music we played for him.  As I played drums on the steering wheel, he'd play drums on his brown car seat, and I'd smile as I'd catch a glance of him doing so in the rear view mirror.  We exposed him to a vast variety of music: hard rock, punk, classical (Chopin, Dvorak, Mozart), classical (Who, Led Z, Stones, Beatles), progressive, 70s, 80s, metal, grunge, goth, dark wave... if it was fun to dance to or had a difficult drum part or just touched the soul (as Chopin always does to me) then it got played, and Christopher drank it in, deeply.

Mountain Song, by Janes Addiction, was one of our favorites to play while driving on I-26, I-40 and I-75 through the NC, TN and KY mountains.  The '88 Honda Civic had a speedometer that went to 120 mph.  Christopher and I hit 115 going down the I-275 descent to cross the Ohio River from KY to IN while singing and drumming to this song when he about 5 yrs old.  We coasted down to 80mph as we crossed the river, protected by the bridge's steel super structure.  Unfortunately, a dozen Indiana State Troopers and a spotter aircraft saw us emerge from the bridge, and wrote us a ticket for 72 in a 65 mph zone before we could cross back into Ohio.  After the ticket, Black Flag was put into the Civic's stereo.  

Jane's Addiction "Mountain Song" from Andrew Doucette on Vimeo.

I hope you enjoy this song as much as my son and I did, whether we were in the car, or drumming with two sets in the bonus room above the garage in South Carolina, or just hanging out in the living room.

I'm also attempting to use this song as a way to Jump Start my Monday morning... which appears to be suffering from significantly lethargic inertia.

Tuesday, October 27, 2020

It's OK, Had a Bad Day...

 

This has been running through my head a lot lately... and it's quite fun to play on my new massively expanded drum set.   Christopher, RIP.   I miss you son.

Friday, October 16, 2020

Red Tiger Striped Ludwig Standard Drum Set

 The Foo Fighter's RUN video has a red tiger striped Ludwig Standard drum set that looks like my kit, made in the early 60s in the US by Ludwig.  I'd never seen this set before...  


Taylor's normal set is a Gretsch ... so the old Ludwig was probably just what they had on the video recording set.  And for the record, Dave is and has always been a better drummer than Taylor.  Taylor is not bad, but Dave is a monster on the kit.  I thoroughly enjoy trying to emulate Dave Grohl's work, and work up quite a sweat when I do.

Thursday, October 15, 2020

I Feel the Pain

 Dinosaur Jr - live.  https://vimeo.com/9771951


Dinosaur Jr: Feel The Pain - Live at The Bowery Ballroom 1/16/2010 from Edwin Samuelson on Vimeo.

The lighting for this show is really poor.  My son Christopher and Get Rigged / Pulse would have done so much better of a job.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Put on your red shoes...

 I was on my way home from getting some pet food on Wednesday night, when Sirius XM played David Bowie's Let's Dance on my car stereo.   It was the first time I sang along to any song with any amount of joy since Sunday morning, August 16th, when the coroner called me to tell me my son had died.  Put on your red shoes and dance the blues... 



Saturday, September 5, 2020

I Shake Like an Incurable...

 It was 95F here in Carlsbad today.  Dr Desert Flower and I floated in the pool in the late afternoon.  It's rarely over 80 or 85F here.  I asked her to put on The Police...  just not Synchronicity, as that's my least favorite album of their 5.  She put on Reggata de Blanc, and Outlandos d'Amour.  We have Bose speakers that point at the pool and backyard.   Then this came on the stereo system:

... and I kinda lost it.    Between my son's death and my dad being diagnosed with colon cancer this week, August and September 2020 have been the worst months of my entire life.  

I miss my son, more than words in English can express.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Carlsbad Cardiac Conscious Rodents?

On Sunday evening, I noticed 3 twigs of chrysanthemum plant leaves laying haphazardly on the ground in my backyard, near my grill.  "How did those get there?" I thought, as they were a good 10 to 15 feet away from the LARGE potted chrysanthemum plant Dr Desert Flower has near the outdoor fireplace in the backyard.  I picked them up, examined the stems closely, and it looked distinctly as if a rodent had chewed them off, dragged them away... and then got distracted or detected or possibly had to evade being eaten by an owl or something else, and just dropped them in front of the grill.  So I set them over onto a raised planter near the grill, and made a mental note:  "On Monday, take these to the green trash can", since it was dusk and we've got an abundance of orb web weaving spiders and I really Really REALLY dislike walking into any spider web and getting it on my face, with or without a spider on the web.

To my surprise, this morning (Monday morning, 31 August as I write this), I went out into the backyard in full day light, to fetch the chewed off branches.  They Were Gone.  Only thing left was a sad, trodden, tiny fragment of one of the 3 branches.  I was perplexed.  Where did these large, sandal sized branches go?  Then I remembered, we've got "citrus rats" (AKA Southern California rats that enjoy eating citrus... sounds better that way) and California Ground Squirrels.  Both are about the size of a men's size 12 sneaker, and are large enough to set off wildlife cameras in the yard.  The sadly squished single remanent was not much bigger than a sprig of parsley you might get at a restaurant, and obviously was not worth dragging away by the large nocturnal rodent who had gnawed off the other 3 branches.

Today, I tried to search for "chrysanthemum lined rat nests" and "+chrysanthemum rodent toxicity" and "+chrysanthemum +rat +nest".  I have known that chrysanthemums are used in natural "green" pesticides along with rosemary and peppermint, as many insects abhor and avoid these plants for the scents and toxins carried within them.  One time when we lived in South Carolina, I watched a Japanese beetle land on a marigold plant next to the driveway, take one bite, and fall over dead, instantly.  A few weeks later, I saw the same thing happen to another beetle who landed on a chrysanthemum plant, chomped it, and rolled over onto the ground on its back, legs in the air, twitching momentarily, and then died.  Granted, these were tiny insects, and dosage matters, so the rats (or perhaps squirrels?) won't die from nesting with chrysanthemum... but do they know the holistic benefits of having chrysanthemum lined nests to dissuade fleas and ticks from feeding on their children?  "My momma taught me, when I was a little rat, to always line the nest with chrysanthemum, yes she did!"

Or were these rats voracious readers of Chinese studies of the effects of concentrated chrysanthemum extract on myocardial fibrosis in rats with renovascular hypertension? 
link here:  https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/32186102/   and link here: https://pubs.acs.org/doi/10.1021/jf062088r  (Absorption and Excretion of Luteolin and Apigenin in Rats after Oral Administration of Chrysanthemum morifolium Extract)
I don't know for sure.  There are so damn many H1B visa holders in Southern California that the rodents in my yard might have been participants in the aforementioned scientific studies for all I know? (taking away jobs and resources from Umerikun rodents!  "Make 'Merica rat infested again!" [makes as much sense as Drumpf's inane con-man slogans that only the most gullible of American citizens embrace, hook, line, and sinker]).  

All along the Southern side of my property there's a 6 ft high wall that separates my yard from the neighbor's, and it is covered in jasmine and mandevilla vines.  My hypothesis is that there's a rat family living in the thick vines on top of the wall, and they wanted to help discourage parasites from living in their nest... or they're cardiac research scientist rats who are squatting without paying rent.  Not sure - and no, I'm not the president of the USA in Idiocracy.  

Monday, August 31, 2020

Rage, Against Vanessa Carlton

 My buddy Joe M sent me this link this morning, and it really brightened an otherwise depressing start to my day.  First day back to work following my son's death, funeral, wake, cremation, flight home, and zoom wake for relatives yesterday.  I listened to this, and thought several things simultaneously:

- It is brilliantly done

- It's perfect for introducing Rage Against The Machine to generations of people who may have never heard them before, or think they're too hard to listen to, or that "rock is roll is not my kind of music" listeners

- It can be listened to by teenage tik-tok trolls who love music like Vanessa Carlton, and perhaps it can open their eyes and ears and hearts to the message within

- My son would have enjoyed this

- I need to share this with a wide-of-an-audience as possible

I hope you enjoy listening to it as much as I did, wether you live in Kenosha, Portland, Washington DC, Charlottesville, Charleston, San Diego, Orange County, or wherever closed minded, anachronistic, 1950s-nostalgic, Confederate apologists, Nationalists, Alt Right, Q-anon, pathetic nazis, and white supremacists keep raising their ugly, delusional filled, willfully ignorant little heads.

Link: https://youtu.be/6kYco2Zt-cM


Sunday, August 30, 2020

My son's eulogy

  

My son, Nathan Jr,  passed away recently, unexpectedly.  We held a Covid compliant funeral and limited attendance wake in Charleston SC, where he lived for the last 15 years. Today, on August 30th, we had a zoom video conference for friends and family who could not travel to Charleston.  The following is what I said about my son, introducing the videos and slide show memorials:

Thank you everyone for coming today, and taking time out of your morning or afternoon, depending on where you are geographically.  Our son Christopher, as many of you have heard, unexpectedly died in his sleep the night of August 15th.  He was 33 years old.  He had a mild case of Covid back in June, but he appeared to get better after a few days.  We do not know why he died, as the autopsy was inconclusive, but the coroner is running more tests that should be complete in mid September.  We may never know exactly what took our son from this world, but we Do Know what a wonderful person Christopher was, and how many thousands of lives he touched in such meaningful, positive, caring, empathetic, helpful, compassionate, funny, inspiring, motivating, passionate, hilarious, insightful, musical, useful, intelligent, genuine, loving and kind ways.  His passing leaves an enormous singularity, a voracious black hole that is tearing at the very fabric of our hearts.


Our son Christopher was magnetic.  People were intrinsically drawn to him, and loved being around him.  His mother and I raised him, and it appears - from the 100s of FaceBook and Instagram posts, from the 100s of his friends in Charleston who loved him, and from the stories his childhood friends keep sharing with me - that we raised an amazing person, a good human, as my friends and former colleagues in Bangalore would say.  Over the last 2 weeks since his passing, I've lost count of the number of men and women who have told me
- I wouldn't have the job I have today, if it was not for your son
- Christopher built my first bike
- Your son helped me move
- I would not have stayed in school in Charleston and graduated if not for your son, because I knew I would not be able to be around him if I left
- Chris walked me home and made sure I got there safely when I had too much to drink
- Your son taught me everything I know about lighting
- Your son trained me as a bartender
- Christopher always listened to me; you always knew he authentically cared
- I could always count on your son when I needed help; I'd call him and he was always right there
- He always made me feel at home, and made me feel that I mattered

I always knew he was an exceptional person, but his passing has clearly shown me the countless lives he selflessly helped.  Our son inspired others, usually in positive, creative, productive, meaningful ways.  He led and encouraged and loved those who were inexorably drawn to him.  Much like my father, Chris's grandfather, his Dzia Dzia, Christopher loved engaging everyone in friendly & lively conversation. No one remained a stranger to our son for long.  Our progeny made everyone feel comfortable and welcomed when he was around them.  If you were having a bad day or having a tough time, everyone in Charleston knew they could count on Christopher to help them feel better, to brighten their day.  It was a gift he had, and he gave generously, warmly, selflessly.  For those of you who did not live in Charleston, or who had not seen Christopher very much since he went to college there, our son did not tolerate fools, bullies, meanness, hatred, or racism.  The inequality, brutality and injustice he witnessed first hand this year, as he and other peaceful demonstrators were needlessly tear gassed, shot at, and attacked in-and-around Marion Square across Calhoun street from where he worked at Big Gun, deeply upset our son, and he was struggling to find ways to make his community a better place for everyone.  

He was real, genuine, caring, confident (sometimes overconfident), fearless, fierce, and loving.  Whether you knew him as Chris, Christopher, little Uzbek, Casmir, Nathan Jr, C Papa, or Papa Prolowski, your life was better, enriched, for having known him.   There will never be another Christopher Joseph, but we all can continue to carry part of him within us, his indomitable spirit, on our journeys through life, putting our best effort forward, helping others, rooting for the under-dog, trying to be a good human, and make the world a better place for everyone.  

Losing my son, is the hardest, most difficult thing I've ever had to endure.  Knowing I will never hear his voice again, be able to hug him, play drums with him, travel with him, get a text from him, laugh with him, build and repair things with him, ride bikes with him, share books and music and art with him, trade dad jokes with him, ðŸ˜Š build sand castles and sand sculptures, walk on the beach and swim in the ocean or sail with him, open Christmas presents with him, see a concert with him, practice yoga or speak French with him, watch a Chicago team usually lose a game on TV with him, ðŸ˜€ enjoy a delicious meal and savor a good bottle of wine with him, change flat tires or oil with him, go to Costco with him, hike and rock parkour and climb mountains with him, sip a glass of fine quality whiskey with him, dance at weddings with him, watch Raising Arizona with him... these things and so many more, a lifetime more, are memories now.  Christopher would want us to all go on with life, doing the best we can, listening to and genuinely caring about others, helping the helpless, the little guy, the disenfranchised, assisting those in need.  So even though this is the hardest, most difficult thing, we'll do the best we can, as Christopher would want us to, would expect us to do.

Saturday, June 20, 2020

What If It Was "Red Lives Matter" Instead?

As a son of European immigrants, and a white male who was born and raised in Northern Indiana, lived & worked in IN, SC, AZ and now California, and who has lived more than 1/2 a century, I've seen many parts of the United States, Europe, Asia, and Australia.  I've had countless civil conversations with men and women of various economic groups, ethnicities, ages, religions, and political affiliations, and usually I've learned something from each of those interactions.

When some of my high school friends embraced right wing politics during or after college, I did not follow them, and scratched my head as to what led them down that path?  When some of my high school friends embraced progressive, socialist, left wing or anarchistic ideologies in college or thereafter, I was busy raising a toddler and being the sole bread winner in my new family's household.  I could relate to the empathy my left leaning friends had for the under-dog, the little guy, the disadvantaged, forgotten, and under-class of society, since I grew up fairly poor myself.

My maternal grandmother would get government cheese at the Senior Center.
At one time in my childhood, my parents applied for food stamps when my father was laid off from Rand McNally as they closed their Hammond IN book printing facility, and dad could not find gainful employment to support the family.  We didn't get it, because we owned a home (with a substantial mortgage) and an old high mileage Pontiac Bonneville that dad used to get to work and then look for jobs when I was in Jr High School. But I understood what it was like to be poor, eat saltines for lunch at school, wear only hand-me-downs, and rely upon my maternal grandparents for food.  I never got an allowance, and didn't understand why any parent would just give their child money that was un-earned.  I had a paper route in 6th and 7th grades, delivering Chicago Tribune, Sun Times, and WSJ to a 8 square block area every morning, rain or shine, on my Schwinn banana seat bike - the Sunday edition of the Tribune was MASSIVE.  So I have first-hand experience with pulling myself up by my "boot straps", having had nothing handed to me or my family from the state or federal government.  But my father was able to get a loan for his house in a majority blue collar suburb of Chicago, where lots of Poles, Slavs, Germans, Hungarians, Irish, Hispanic, Italians, and Scandinavians lived.  He got a unionized job in a book bindery before I was born, and for most of my childhood, we were in pretty good shape.

Just a few miles away, in Gary IN, most of the city was not in very good shape economically.  The steel mills all began to close in the 1980s, and the tax revenues dried up in Gary, Easy Chicago, Hammond, and Whiting.  Street lights, traffic signals, and general infrastructure broke down and didn't get repaired.  The majority of Gary entered an economic malaise from which they've never really recovered.  The majority of Gary was also African American.  But what if the majority of Gary's citizens, instead of being African American, were caucasian and all had red hair?  I know this might sound silly or absurd, but give me a minute or two to explain.

Since Memorial Day 2020, when George Floyd was publicly murdered by Minneapolis police and recorded by civilians as it happened, all 50 states in the US, and many countries around the world, have seen widespread public protests against racism and police brutality against black and brown people.  What if George Floyd, instead of being a large man who was a former NCAA basketball playing African American, was a large red haired caucasian?  And what if every black and brown person who have been beaten or killed or wrongly convicted by the legal system had red hair and white (probably freckled) skin?


Hold that thought in your head for a moment.  Replace "black skin" with "red hair and white skin".  You can certainly SEE that someone has red hair, up-close, or from far away.  Many of them are originally from Scotland, Ireland, or Scandinavian countries, where the genes for red hair are not rare.  Red haired folks are no different than brown haired, black haired, blond haired, or gray haired folks, but you can immediately see that they've got red hair.  Take off a red haired person's hat, and there is no ambiguity that they are indeed red haired.  Many red haired men often grow beards, which show off their red hair even more.

As I kept hearing "all lives matter", and "blue lives matter" and white folks call in to shows on the radio (NPR) say "you have to first acknowledge there's discrimination AGAINST white people, before we can talk about black lives matter" it began to become very clear to me.  Many white people have a BIG problem with the word "black" because of the systemic racism within their narrow view of society in which they were raised and have been living their whole lives, racism that Most of them are not consciously aware that they are practicing.  So imagine a world for a moment, where there were NO BLACK PEOPLE, whatsoever, and probably no brown people either, for this analogy to work and make sense for the white people who read it.  Instead of African Americans being the most discriminated and disadvantaged folks in the United States, RED HAIRED folks took their place.

Think about that, for minute, especially if you're white.

Say that all red haired folks couldn't get VA loans when they left the military, because of the color of their hair.  They couldn't live in nice neighborhoods, without the KKK burning crosses in their lawns, throwing bricks through their windows, and hanging nooses from their trees.  Red haired folks were denied job interviews, jobs, home loans, entry into the best schools, entry into non-red-haired "christian" churches in the Southern United States. They were severely beaten and hospitalized when walking their girl friend home at 3am in Charleston by 5 blond and brown haired guys wearing College of Charleston shirts. Imagine that Red haired folks had been brought to the US in chains from Scotland and Ireland and Scandinavia and forced to work as slaves on cotton, tobacco, rice, and sugar plantations, mostly in the South, but some in the rest of the country as well.  When red haired kids tried to enter segregated public schools in Alabama, Arkansas and Mississippi they had police dogs set on them, were fire hosed, and beaten, all because of the color of their hair.

What if red haired folks created better music, more meaningful and soulful and powerful lyrics and rhythms, that they called blues, jazz, gospel and many other genres that blond and brown and black haired artists appropriated, imitated, and played for blond and brown and black and gray haired crowds in bars and concert halls and churches, where red haired folks were not allowed to enter?  What if blond and brown and black haired daughters liked red haired boys, but were forbidden to hang out with or date those red haired boys?  What if the N word was replaced with the G word (ginger)?  And one red haired person could call another red haired person the G word, but no one else was allowed to use it in conversation, in a tweet, on-air broadcasts, in social media, or anywhere else without repercussions?

What if, in the Fortune 500 companies, there were only 4 red haired CEOs, even though red haired folks comprised more than 10% of the US population?  What if red haired folks were 2.5X more likely to die from Covid-19 infections than their blond, black, brown, and gray haired counterparts?  Because of the systemic fear, structural racism, and discrimination against red haired folks, a large percentage of them worked in lower paying service professions, like security guard, bus driver, janitor, short haul truck driver, and health care assistants, and during periods of economic downturns, they were impacted disproportionately to their size in the general population?  What if the relatively few economically successful red haired folks who were judges, US senators, plant managers, or PhD scholars were routinely hassled and scrutinized, delayed by police, security guards, TSA, and retail store loss prevention personnel? "Why is a red haired person like you driving this really nice car?"

If you were a police officer (city or county) in this all white society where red haired folks were routinely discriminated against, you might be fearful of those citizens with red hair.  They have "fiery tempers" after all, and everyone knows "red haired women are trouble" while all non-red haired men know that many red haired women are "crazy".  Broken tail light, failure to use a turn signal, "fitting the description" of a red haired suspect... all of these would be opportunities to pull over a red haired driver, interrogate them - often rudely and with excessive force - and take them in for further questioning when the red haired driver, who was minding their own business and usually did nothing wrong, began to get irritated that they're being hassled for no reason whatsoever... oh... wait... yeah, they have Red Hair.  In the eyes of many of the blond, brown, black, and gray haired officers, most red haired folks "all look alike".

What if in Tulsa OK on Memorial Day 1921, the most prosperous part of the city, known as "Red Wall Street", 35 square blocks, was looted and then burnt down by non-red haired people, while Army Air Corp biplanes dropped petrol bombs on the district, with more than 400 red haired men, women, and children, massacred?  (without a single prosecution, and with zero insurance claims paid)  What if in Chicago Illinois, on the Lake Michigan lake-front beach in 1919, a red haired teenager swam over to the non-red-haired beach, across an imaginary line, that got him stoned to death by all the non-red swimmers?  And then the non-red swimmers went on a rampage killing 150 red haired citizens, and burnt down 1.1 billion dollars worth of red-haired owned homes and businesses in Chicago?  What if all red haired men were called "boy" or "uncle", instead of "mister" or "sir" when they were spoken to by someone with blond, brown, or black hair.

So if you personally have a problem with the phrase "Black Lives Matter", as I first did many years ago the first few times I heard it in my 40s, where I kept telling myself "no, all lives matter, not just black ones" ... then you really should stop for a moment, replace "Black" with "Red" and remember this context.  Think about the analogy I make here, about a country where everyone is white (no black or brown people whatsoever), but the red haired citizens consistently the short end of the stick, a raw deal, a violent and forceful shove back down the ladder of success by all the other citizens who don't have red hair.  Even if they have boot straps, the systematic barriers non-red society has repeatedly placed in their way have made it remarkably hard for the vast majority of red haired folks to succeed, prosper, and be on equal footing under the US Constitution, after the 13th Amendment was passed in December 1865, just 155 years ago.

If reading this has changed even one person's mind or opened their eyes to the reality that the majority of African Americans live in the United States are subject to just because of the color of their skin, then it was worth writing.

Note:  I have many red haired friends, former class mates, colleagues, acquaintances and neighbors.  All of whom are nice people.  I hope such discrimination and anti-red-haired hatred is never focused upon them, as stated in this analogy.  I was going to try "blue eyes" or "bald" or "left handed" but none of those aspects are instantly recognizable, from afar or by law enforcement officers, so I kept coming back to red hair in my mind.

Sunday, June 14, 2020

Talking NIN Heads, Only Blind

For about a week now, two songs have been running through my head, mashed together rather seamlessly, and blending into each other smoothly.  Talking Heads, "Blind" and Trent Reznor's NIN "Only", are not yet in a published Mash-up, but in my head they are already merged.  Several of my close friends and my son have been asked about this via text message, and most of have responded that they hear the similarities.  My buddy Rick even stated that it makes perfect sense because not only the 2 and 4 hi-hat, but the basic "Da-Da, da-Dah, da-da-da, dah-duh-da-da..." repeats merge nicely.


And Reznor's "Only":



Two very different songs, that came out many years apart.  I might be only of the few Americans who enjoy both bands passionately... but maybe there's more people out there with excellent musical taste.  =P   Being a father, (and Father's Day is approaching) I am delighted I could positively affect my son's musical repertoire and appreciation in exposing him to some of the Best music from the 80s and 90s as he grew up, both of these bands inclusive.

It's a fun blending of tunes in my head.   I hope you enjoy it as well.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

I just have some extra lemons...

There's a local neighborhood social media platform called Next-door.com, which I renamed "complaining-neighbors.com" since the vast majority of posts on it in here in Southern California has traditionally been neighbors complaining about:
- dogs owners letting their dogs poop in other people's yards
- dog owners not picking up after their pets
- cars driving too fast near schools
- occasional helicopters circling a neighborhood
- cars being broken into that homeowners leave unlocked in their driveways
- packages being stolen off of front porches
- rattlesnakes being found in a large planter, or on a hiking path, or in someone's garage
- really loud music blasting late at night from a party where the parents are not home
- graffiti somewhere in the city
- drivers who cut you off or drive recklessly or who don't know how to turn on a double-lane turn
- strangers walking around the neighborhood or sitting in vehicles on residential streets who don't live there
- unleashed dogs attacking leashed dogs on walking trails
- coyotes attacking any dog that's smaller than a coyote

... that kind of thing.  Sometimes there are nice posts of someone who needs moving boxes, or someone who needs a heavy piece of furniture moved or picked up, or to borrow a ladder or wheelbarrow or other tool.  Over the years there have been lost pet posts, please adopt this dog or cat posts, seeking a pet sitter posts.. and that genre of neighborhood communication.  But nearly all of that has changed.

When the malignant narcissist was installed by the United State's electoral college after losing the popular vote in 2016, I significantly decreased the frequency that I ever visited the Book Face (or FaceBook as most people call it), because I was sick and tired of all the Russian bot generated fake news with inflammatory headlines designed to enrage whoever clicked on them. Troll bots drove massive amounts of traffic and eye ball exposure to misleading, or fabricated, or out-of-context "news stories" that so many devoted followers clicked on, and liked, or shared, and propagated faster than Covid-19 is currently spreading around the world.  I did NOT want any part of that, and trying to fend it off or combat it, or explain why it was incorrect was becoming an enormous waste of time.  So I withdrew from that battlefield (yes, the Book Face IS a battlefield, fighting for your attention, surveilling your data and preferences, plotting to try and sell you ads for stuff you don't want, while also re-selling your data to retailers and big data research firms to make even MORE money off of your "free" account - and their Instagram acquisition is no better.  It just has prettier pictures most of the time).

Around that time, Dr Desert Flower and I had just moved into a house in a new neighborhood, in a new city a few months before, and one of the realtors who lived in the neighborhood was the administrator of the local community Next-door site.  I signed up and created an account for DDF and I, and we "welcomed" other new neighbors, got to know several of the people who lived around us, donated our moving boxes to people who needed them, and even eventually adopted a pet who was posted on Nextdoor as being in need of a home.  

Gradually, as the malignant narcissist out lasted the Mueller investigation, and then the Republican Senate refused to convict the impeached president, I noticed that the posts and the comments on Nextdoor.com became increasingly political, aggressively confrontational, angry, and nasty.  "Mean spirited" does no begin to describe the vitriol that so many neighbors readily spouted on the site.  MAGA themes, and anti-MAGA themes pervaded any kind of post you could imagine, even ones that had NOTHING to do with politics.  Emboldened by the "new normal" that the White House had established in bullying, criticizing, using hate speech, being openly racist, without any repercussions, fans of the president found fertile ground in which to plant their ideologies.  Liberals and progressives would often provoke them - inadvertently often or overtly sometimes - and stoke the hate and anger to completely uncivilized levels of disgusting discourse.  

Then, the Covid-19 shelter-in-place orders came out, first from governors who needed to take action without any coherent leadership from the deniers in the White House.  Then, the White House issued the "president's guidelines" for how to stay safe in the pandemic by mailing everyone post cards 2ith instructions that just a few weeks before the malignant narcissist had been mocking.  Once the States were in quarantine, and everyone was home with ample time on their hands, the flood gates - which had been LEAKING terribly - burst wide open.  

Nextdoor became a full-on platform for those who were taking self-isolation and shelter-in-place to the strictest levels began railing on anyone they saw outside on the street or sidewalk as a public menace if that person or persons did not meet their level of sterile precautions.  The MAGA fans exploded back in hostile retribution telling those who criticized them where they could go and where they could stick things.  Moderators (like the realtor who admins our neighborhood site) now had a FULL TIME job taking down postings that were erupting with neighbors screaming at each other, injecting politics and personal beliefs into any and every posting imaginable.  

Posts like:
a) does anyone know when the city will open the hiking trails again?
or
b) the condos across the main road have 2 Covid cases in them, the City posted it on everyone's doors
or
c) does anyone have an extension ladder I could borrow on Saturday?
or
d) My son and daughter-in-law are stuck in Peru where the cruise ship they were on is quarantined; does anyone know how I can get them back home? 
or
e) I have some extra lemons, if anyone would like a few, our tree made so many 

... devolved, within 3 to 5 replies, to "that's the whole problem with you libertards!" or "it's the president you voted for who killed my uncle by not implementing a national plan!"  or "why don't you create a database that tracks everyone's health, doctor visits, cough, sniffles, and Rxs in the whole neighborhood?"

The little old lady just had some extra lemons... she was not trying to start an armed conflict.  

And it is not just down here in San Diego County.  Our friends in Orange County have noticed the same thing, perhaps even worse.  Our civil society isn't.  Civil discourse is dead.  Everyone is too angry and hateful, entrenched in there own camp, fed by Fox News and MSNBC, OAN and Talking Points Memo, Brietbart and The Raw Story, Drudge Report and The Washington Post, The New York Times and Gawker, Politico and The Washington Examiner.

I've been telling people who I know that there will very likely be an ugly American civil war if the 45th president loses in November 2020 and refuses to step down, or calls the election "rigged" (as he did in 2016), and possibly declares Marshal Law as violence rises in both red and blue states, minorities and outspoken voices of reason, and those who are not wearing the right 'patriotic' colors  are lynched, hospitalized, or disappear.  Most people scoff at such a notion, and say "things won't get to that level."  But look how QUICKLY Nextdoor spiraled downward.  Neighborhood residents CANNOT Fake profiles or Hide as an anonymous troll on Nextdoor.  It is a verified, regulated, moderated site, where Open Discourse is supposed to be the norm.  Open, civilized discourse.

It will not take much to go from Complainingneighbors.com to Violentneighbors.com or WeKNOWwhereyoulive.com, by ideologues who have forgotten how to discuss facts, respectfully, and politely.  

Friday, May 8, 2020

An Empty LA

The new video by Maynard of Tool, on his side project Puscifer, published Apocalyptical yesterday.  (thanks to my buddy Ryan for the head's up).  It shows a completely empty Los Angeles.  I've been to the Staples Center.  It's in a very busy section of the city.   https://youtu.be/Hj_bTbfAEsc


A skateboarder in a level 4 haz mat suit, drone footage of streets, parking lots, beaches, all devoid of human life in frame after frame.  Granted, these might have been taken near dawn on a cloudy day (so you can't see shadows) but it is eerie how empty the streets are in America's 2nd largest city.

Those Southern states who are opening back up with little or no restrictions, I wish your health care systems and morticians all the best, as your elderly, cancer patients, diabetics, hypertensives, morbidly obese, immuno-compromised, the weakest of "the herd" say their good byes to their families (if they still have any) through FaceTime or panes of glass before they expire.  No, Covid-19 is not a hoax.  It's not some conspiracy created by hospitals to get more Medicare money. It's a global pandemic.

If you read this, and can't help yourself in angrily (or snarkily) responding to me, your comments will be published and mocked.

Friday, December 20, 2019

Top 22 Drummers 2019 Update

Eleven years ago, I created a post about my favorite top 22 drummers.  I tried updating it recently, and apparently Google Blogger doesn't want anything older than a few years to be updated, because all I get is "sign in" when I try to edit it, regardless of how many times I am already signed in.  So it's time to update it.

Removed is Carl Palmer...  since he was very sloppy, and not a role model for precision drumming.  Also removed is Alex Van Halen, since he's part of a family that are rather douchey to anyone who are not Van Halens by birth.  Added are my childhood drum teacher Larry Mysliwiec and Vinnie Paul (RIP) from Pantera who played millions of beats every week faster and more precise than I could ever hope to play.  Also, swapped are Neil Peart and Danny Carey, since Neil's more recent work is not 1/2 as good as his 70s and 80s work, and Danny... well... Danny is precise, mic'ed well, appropriate, intense, creative, and one of the hardest drummers to imitate / replicate.

Joe's Top 22 Drummers

  1. Danny Carey
  2. Stewart Copeland
  3. John Bonham
  4. Neil Peart 
  5. Bill Bruford
  6. Mike Giles
  7. Gene Krupa (...and he was Polish!)
  8. Terry Bozzio
  9. Chad Sexton
  10. Larry Mysliwiec
  11. John Dolmayan
  12. Tim Alexander
  13. Alan White
  14. John Densmore
  15. Stephen Perkins
  16. Keith Moon
  17. Anton Fig
  18. Tre Cool
  19. Dave Hartman
  20. Dave Grohl
  21. Matt Cameron
  22. Vinnie Paul
And almost made the list:
Chic Corea but he's a Scientologist, so he falls off.
Buddy Rich, because he personally was an asshole to me at River Oaks in 1985 when he played a free concert there
Aynsley Dunbar; yes he played for Zappa, but he also played for Whitesnake, Hagar, and others of less than stellar repute.

I've amended the list, due to vocal criticism, but I shall have to endure the fatwa.

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

The 99%'s Favorite Drinking Spot in Carlsbad

So last December, Dr Desert Flower and I moved from our home in Carlsbad that had no view, no breeze, and was on a fairly busy street, with a 2 car garage, to another home in Carlsbad that had a canyon and ocean sunset view, a consistent breeze nearly every morning and evening, a pool, a wine cellar, and a 3 car garage - instead of a Tetris Packed 2 car - and was on a cut de sac with very little traffic each day.  At the previous home, from June 2015-Dec 2018, we had a fair number of hummingbirds visit our yard, possess our feeders, and provide visual amusement to both the humans and our feline familiar who'd look longingly out the window at the hummingbirds, and salivate.  We were not sure if the hummingbirds would warm up to our new location, exposed on a canyon rim with a 200 foot drop into the valley below, without the lush vegetation in which they previous hid at the first Carlsbad house.  We set out the feeders, and waited.
No need to "share a straw" when you bring your own
It didn't take long.  We soon had dozens of hummingbirds vying for positions, perches, a place at the free-drink happy hour bar.  The feeders along the western fence at the canyon's edge were THE MOST popular.  10 holed nectar feeders that consistently draw 10, 11, or 12 birds (where they share the same hole with the beaks side-by-side), began to be drained at the rate of 1 quart each day, or 1000 mls per day.  At a 4:1 water to sugar ratio, that meant that I was going through a 4 pound bag of sugar every 4 or 5 days, washing mold and fungus from the feeders every 2 or 3 days (using warm water and a tiny bit of Dawn dishwashing liquid), and never getting tired of seeing the swarms of birds enjoying the free nectar.


At the old house, a single mature dominant male would try and "own" a specific feeder, and chase off all other birds in a futile attempt to hoard the whole pint or whole quart of nectar to himself.  Sometimes a mature male would let a female of the same species drink at "his feeder" but that was really only during mating season (in the late Winter and early Spring), and rarely ever in mid-day when sunlight was plentiful and visual acuity (to see if the birds were male, female, adolescent [not yet plumage differentiated] and which species was visiting) was much clearer.  At "humming bird happy hour", AKA an hour before sunset as the shadows grow longer and ambient light substantially decreases, "tolerance" of other birds at a feeder increased and one might see 1/2 a dozen birds drinking at the same time from the same feeder.  It was mostly 1 dominant mature male, several females, and a handful of adolescents who were trying to appear as if they might be females of mating age... but it was often more than just one hummingbird at a specific feeder at happy hour.


In the new canyon rim home, the fence adjacent feeders are now remarkably successful beyond our wildest dreams.  There are often 10 birds perched, drinking from 10 holes, as 2 to 4 more birds hover nearby, waiting their turn.  Sometimes there at 11 or 12 birds drinking from 10 holes.  Occasionally there's a feisty Rufous or Anna's mature male who tries to drive off other birds, but the mature females Generally Ignore such trouble makers.  "We have nests to feed!" "Can't a lady get a drink?" and "No thanks, I already mated" are chirped phrases I imagine (project) are stated at every happy hour where the majority of the hummingbirds are mature females and adolescents, with just one or two males trying to get a drink alongside as well.

Um, I think I left my ID back at the nest... (12 birds on a 10 holed feeder, some of them undoubtedly nest mates)

We have at least 5 species of hummingbirds who visit our feeders.   I will state them here by rank of "most plentiful" to "least plentiful, more rare" as seen in our backyard.  Thanks to Cornel's All About Birds site, (and Audobon's site... since Cornel's is not loading in many instances today) you can learn more about them as well, if you follow the links:
Anna's:  https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Annas_Hummingbird/id  The NBA players of the hummingbird world; 20% bigger than everyone else.
Costa's; https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/costas-hummingbird
Rufous; https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/rufous-hummingbird ; small but pugnacious
Allen's; https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Allens_Hummingbird/overview
Blackchinned;  https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-chinned_Hummingbird/id



When I inquired to Cornel as to how much nectar a single hummingbird (using an Anna's as an example) consumes in a day, I was given the following answer:
Anna's Hummingbirds weigh on average about 1.95 grams.
Hummingbirds consume 1/2 their body weight each day on nectar, gnats, spiders, and small insects.  The nectar provides carbs while the insects provide protein.

...so if I am making At Least one quart a day (or 1000 milliliters) of nectar for the feeders along the fence, and each bird drinks a maximum of 1 ml each day (as 1 ml of water - 1 gram... the beauty of metric measure), then I am feeding 1000 birds every single day in my backyard.  Some hotter days, when we have Santa Anna winds, the birds are consuming 2 quarts per day.


Dr Desert Flower and I know this has led to a significant increase in the local hummingbird population, as well as helping to sustain mutations and variations that otherwise would probably rapidly perish "in the wild" without a government run, free nectar for the 99% program, such as we are providing.  We've seen beak mutations (bumped beaks, split beaks, frayed ends of beaks, broken beaks) at both the previous home's backyard and our current canyon rim home.  We've watched a severely bumped beak "male" try and take over a backyard feeder and dominate it, only to molt the next year (with the same bumped beak) into a female with muted plumage - perhaps a hermaphroditic XXY or androgen desensitivity mutation?  It's no longer "survival of the fittest" in our backyard, but the prospering of the most social, least combative.  And all it costs me is 4 pounds of sugar every 4 or 5 days.  A social safety net well-worth sustaining.

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

Correcting Degenerative Spondylosis

When I was unexpectedly let got my my employer of nearly 20 years back in 2017, I threw myself into a physical fitness regimen to occupy my time and work on chronic health issues that had been bugging me for several decades.  I was determined to lower my A1C, try and get ab definition, improve my aerobic capacity, and increase my yoga practice from 2 or 3 times a week to 5 or 6.  For about 9 months of 2017, I was successful in working towards my goals and making significant progress.  A1C lowered by a whole digit.  First time in 1/2 a century I went from Michelin Man torso to almost a semblance of abs and ribs and lats definition.  Practiced yoga so much that I began to name the pelicans who soared over the South Ponto cliffs where I practiced each day.  After 60 to 90 minutes of yoga and crunches and extended plank poses, I ran the 93 stairs from parking lot to top of cliffs, 10 or 12 or 15 times in a row, pushing myself to go as fast as possible, taking 2 to 3 stairs at a time, going both up and down.
Image may contain: ocean, sky, water, outdoor and nature
This ledge no longer exists, since a fancy coastal hotel has destroyed the bluff over-look which is now apparently private property.
This is where I made a BIG mistake.

An aging guy in his 50s shouldn't be trying to do Parkour (as I had previously in Orange County at the beach on the massive rocks there), or extreme stair running.  All of that IMPACT did not do my hips, knees, or spine any favors, as I thudded down the stairs and sprinted up them at a running pace.  The whole time I was driving down my A1C and helping my muscle groups to develop, I was causing high cycle fatigue to damage my hip joints and spine (L4-l5-S1) with all the cumulative impacts.  In 2018, I found a new job here locally in Carlsbad, and cut my yoga back to twice a week, along with stair running just twice a week.  In 2019 some developers destroyed the South Ponto Beach cliffs with a high end boutique hotel construction project that blocked the top of the stairs and eliminated the pretty spot in all of Carlsbad where anyone could practice yoga, a hundred feet above the ocean with an on-shore breeze.

Also in 2019, I began to limp as my right hip started to show significant signs of wear.  My lower spine felt akin to "a stack of tea cups and saucers" that were ready to tip over and crash, if I did something as "extreme" as reaching 2 or 3 feet diagonally in front of me, my back popped, felt like it was going to collapse, and drove significant chronic sciatica on my right side all the way down my right leg.  In the 2nd 1/2 of 2019, I had a series of X-rays and MRIs that revealed Spondylosis, disc generation, leg nerve impingement, and 4 mm of misalignment on L4-L5-S1.  My orthopedist explained that the minor misalignment was not a huge issue, but the nerve impingement would only continue to get worse.  My right leg would sometimes "go out" for a step or two, as if it was no longer attached.  Then it would come back.  The ortho explained that the frequency and duration of the absentee-right leg would increase over time, as the nerve got further crushed.
The recommended solution, as to do an ALIF, Anterior Lumbar Inter-fusion, where they cut you from belly button down the middle, open up your abs, move over all your sacked intestines in-tact to the right side, scoot over your aorta and vena cava, and access the front of your spine to excavate (medical dremel tool) the front of your disks & vertebrae,  inserting titanium cages that have allograft adult stem cells inside of them to encourage your spine to accept them.  Then they turn you over on a sandwich bed in which you, the patient, are the meat of the sandwich.  Once on your stomach, two Large slits are cut on your left and right lumbar muscles along the muscle fibers, and screws and tie rods are installed on the back side to stabilize all the cage and allograft work that was just done on the front side.  After a 6 to 8 hour surgery, you stay in the hospital 3 to 5 days, and you DON'T BLT (Bend, Lift, Twist) for the next 3 months, minimum, wearing a little back brace that covers the 3 incisions, but which does not Prevent you from Bending, Lifting, or Twisting.  "How will I know if I've gone too far?" I asked the Doctor and his RN.  "The pain will tell you".   This freaked me out before surgery, as I tried on the back brace a week before the operation, having wrongly assumed it would be a confining corset that would not let me move.  I can move a great deal in the back brace. My body screams at me when I've moved too far.

So 16 days ago, on Monday morning at 530am, I had my ALIF surgery with the posterior back hardware reinforcements completed.  At the 6 hour mark (of the 8 hour estimate) the orthopedic surgeon came out to talk to Dr Desert Flower to tell her I was fine and everything went well, while his PA apparently closed up my sutures. An hour later in recovery, I kept complaining that "a giant is kneeling on my back's left side!" (the side that previously had not hurt at all).  The pain meds flowed freely Monday and early Tuesday, and I complained very little. On Wednesday I was weening myself off the pain meds, and feeling good enough to come home.  Thursday DDF brought me home, and I've been rather sedentary since October 25th, as my spine slowly builds bone around the titanium hardware and the 3 separate spinal bones become one longer, strong bone fused together.

I had sought out a 2nd opinion, which took 2 weeks before planning the surgery, since DDF's employer based health insurance has a 2nd opinion consulting service where they get experts from Cleveland Clinic and Mayo Clinic to review the case.  The 2nd opinion concurred with he ALIF.  The 2nd opinion also concurred that fixing the spine has to happen before repairing the damaged right hip joint, or a substantially increased risk of hip joint dislocation could happen if the spinal fusion was attempted after a hip replacement.  I spoke to the VP of Business Development at OrthoFix about the Phoenix NXG system that was going to be installed into my body.  He was a very helpful person who spoke confidently and intelligently about OrthoFix's products, regulatory body approvals, Quality System, FDA approvals and recalls, and fielded hardware installations that number in the 10s of thousands when Gen 2 and Gen 3 (current) are considered together, since Gen 3 is not much different that Gen 2.  As a life long engineer interested in quality aspects of premium products, this comforted me somewhat, and I thanked the VP for his openness and time.

The merciful NSAIDs I'd been taking for my hip were discontinued October 14th, a week before spine surgery, since NSAIDs inhibit new bone growth.  Now I'm just on the Tylenol, but sometimes the Tylenol has hydrocodone or Oxycodone in it, when the pain gets above a 5 on the 1-10 pain scale.  I'm actively trying to not become dependent on the narcotics, so I endure a 1-3 or 1-4 level until I feel it crescendoing towards a 5 or 7 or 8.   The first week at home was relatively pain free, with barely 1 out of a possible 8 pain killers being taken each day.  Then, on Saturday November 2nd, we had friends over, and I over-did it with activity, grilling, refilling hummingbird feeders, going in and out of the house, and Saturday night my left leg - the one that has a good hip and never hurt me previously - was in tremendous pain all night, resistive to any narcotics, and preventing sleeping more than 20 minutes at a time.  Sunday I rested, sedentary, but Sunday night was no better.  Monday I rested again, and finished a good book on the Tulsa 1921 Memorial Day massacre where state sanctioned mob violence destroyed the African American section of Tulsa burning down 1100 buildings and leaving 5000 people homeless (there will be a blog posting on this later, here).  My doctor's office has advised that I Carefully and Cautiously stretch while laying on my back, to bring my knees to my chest and straighten my legs without bending my spine.  I hope it works tonight... zobaczymy.
My cousin and one of my co-workers had this same spinal surgery on their necks, where the wind pipe and throat are moved over and hardware installed on the cervical vertebrae.  Both my cousin and my co-worker told me the importance of stretching after surgery, with reasonable limits... and once all the bones are fully fused in 9 to 12 months, that I'll need to stretch every day to avoid stiffening up and getting sore again.   So I have that to look forward to as well.

Next October (2020) I get to have my right hip joint replaced, since the protective cartilage is completely gone and I'm bone-spur-to-bone-spur grinding whenever I walk and load the right hip.  Getting old is So Much Fun!

Saturday, May 4, 2019

The Balkun Brothers' Beautifully Blended Devil on TV

Dr Desert Flower and I recently visited our son in beautiful Charleston South Carolina.  While we there, my son gave me a CD by the Balkun Brothers Devil on TV.  Our son's company had helped facilitate a recent live show by the Balkun Brothers, and he was impressed by their music that he snapped up a CD for his old father who is not on Spotify, iTunes, Pandora, or any other platform that monitors what a human listens to and then tries to market to them; my son knows his father.  He also knows great music when he hears it, as he's a remarkable drummer in his own right (with a faster bass drum foot and more speed metal stamina than his dad, but I've still got him on the 26 standard NARD rudiments. ... and I do miss having bonus-room-over-the-garage drum set duels with him, as we used to do when we lived in South Carolina).

As I was installing window blinds this morning here in California in our new house, I put the Devil on TV CD into the home sound system's CD player, not knowing WHAT to expect.  It might be good, it might not be my thing, but keeping an open mind.  I was blown away.

If you wanted to create the Balkun Brothers music in a laboratory, this might be one recipe that would approximate their sound:
- Start with The Heavy, used as the base stock, but remove the UK and make it home grown American (open track "Don't Be Afraid" is VERY The Heavy like in many ways, as is So Hi, So Lo)
- Add in the following bands in different amounts, based upon your own palate:  RHCP (Flea and Chad), Rollins Band, a healthy dose of Muddy Waters, Lenny from Motorhead, old Yes, a teaspoon of Primus, a few drops of Morphine, an extract of the Black Keys without the mainstream commercialization, essence of Rob Zombie without the shock value, a touch of Mike Giles from King Crimson crossed with John Dolmayan from SOAD mixed with Matt Cameron from Soundgarden, steamed and condensed STP without the heroine, and the soul of Chris Cornell's voice.
- Then, and this is the truly amazing part that I still cannot understand... remove ALL the band members except for the two brothers, Steve and Nick, since they produce all the sound.

I'm impressed, and hooked (listening the the CD on repeat for the 4th time as I write this).  I will seek out the other works as well.  The Balkun Brothers are currently playing in New England and will be headed to Europe at the end of the month.  You would not be wasting your time nor money to go see them.  Highly recommended.

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=blakun+brothers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xnLNTlhRcU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRZmXKhUzSk