Quixote Peyote...

May 27, 2009

Someone slipped some Quixote Peyote in my Irish oatmeal this morning! Holy Smokes! I swear I saw windmills in the distance! You know...the kind in Holland, not some wind turbine or anything. Does this mean I'll be wearing a suit of armor and going on a knight's errand? Sounds like fun, but I'm not ready for a full delusional life yet...maybe when I'm 80 or something...running down the street with a plastic light saber and a extra small hotel towel chasing joggers who I think are Storm Troopers er something. Yea...that would be HOT! Yea...one of the joggers would have big headphones on her and I'd think she was Princess Leah and I would take her in my Millennium Falcon ( a white rental van ) and...er...umm...wait...never mind.

So...the Padres are on a 10 game winning streak! *sheepish grin*

My Sponge Is Squeezed Dry...

May 26, 2009

It's true. I've squeezed my sponge dry from yesterday's recording of "Goth Coke Dealer". When my sponge is empty I feel like I swam a mile ( If I really tried to swim a mile I would be fish food... ). You know when every muscle in your body is tired and you have a slight hazy-dazed look on your face? That's me. It's old movie-nappy-dreamy-time, only to wake up for a California burrito and an aguas frescas of some sort. Maybe by then I'll have enough in the ol' sponge to squeeze some more...

Anna has a crush on a goth coke dealer...

May 25, 2009

"Anna has a crush on a goth coke dealer..." is the first line of a new song I wrote last night. As for the line itself, I did not write. I had overheard a guy talking on his cell phone. When he said that line I thought to myself "Wow. That's fucked up." then internally laughed to myself. I wrote it down...over six months ago. Messing around with my drum machine last night, that line popped back into my consciousness. "Oooohh!", frantically I start to look for my lyric book and within 20 minutes the song was written.

Now here's my thought. Did I write it? Did the dude at the coffee shop complaining to his friend write it? Or did I just get struck by the lightening of the Universe telling me what to write? Or even further, was it a co-write with the coffee shop dude, the Universe, and myself? I still need to record it, which I'll begin that mysterious foray into the unknown in a few hours.

I hope it doesn't suck. I'm thinking I'll call the song "Goth Coke Dealer"...

To Be of Use...

May 24, 2009

I am writing. Writing songs. I have been making some headway on two albums. One, a love-song album "Paper Sun" that will be be recorded all with acoustic instruments, and the second is the EP "Los Feliz", which is inspired by my little drum machine and Los Feliz in Los Angeles, that are upbeat songs. Love songs and upbeat songs, all of which are during this time of financial hardship. No paid work and a credit card company suing my ass. A challenge to say the least. I should be pessimistic. I should be depressed. I should be a lot of other things, but I'm not. Fearing those "worst case" scenarios for many years, caused myself to have deep bouts of depression and a stomach so used to being tied up in knots that it wouldn't know what to do if it weren't. Now that many of the fears are coming true, I realize how little importance they really have on life, and on living. Yea...I now have "bad credit". Not something to be proud of for sure, but not anything to jump in front of a train for either. Many revered people have lost much and still they accomplished, still they persevered and endured. What I find of great importance is that it is "to be of use". I write, record, produce and perform songs. A humble trade. The idea of a rock star is and has been a bad idea. There are exceptions to every situation, but generally speaking rock stardom should never be a goal. It is only an effect, one that should be warily wished for it seems. I wouldn't know. I'm not one, nor have I ever been one. I just want to be of use. Sometimes I succeed in being that, other times not.

The "Thank You" Man...Whereabouts Unknown...

May 23, 2009

Nothing like a mental time warp. It's awesome! One second you're here and the next second you're... Well, this time I was warped back 15 years to an ice cream shop in La Jolla where the "Thank You" Man resided/worked. I do not actually know his name, but it doesn't matter because everyone knew him as the Thank You Man. For whatever reason, a strange new religion, mental illness, maybe he was just really friggin' weird, he would ALWAYS start every sentence with "Thank You". "Thank you, hello and how is your day today?" he would bait his question. If you thanked him back he would "thank you for thanking him"...and if you thanked him for thanking him for thanking you for thanking him, he would thank you for thanking him for thanking you for thanking him for thanking you. Needles to go further ad nauseum, you get my point. He would always have the last thank you, no matter what, as if his life would depend on it. Forget selling ice cream, who's waiting in line, no one was gonna out thank him. No one!

*sigh* ( *sigh* is the universal sound of time travel...)

Now that I've warped back to present day...where the hell is that guy? Did someone finally just shoot him with a Glock 9 millimeter to just shut him the fuck up to stop saying thank you all time? Did he just give up, because no one trusts an overly polite man who is a dead ringer for Saddam Hussein? Or did he get on his space ship and fly back to Venus just like the guy from the Twilight Zone who had three eyes, but the third eye was hidden by his 50's white diner cap? You know the Thank You Man had the same friggin' cap! "God damn aliens...you can hardly understand 'em." That's what this old La Jolla man mumbled under his breath. Well don't have a clue what was up with the Thank You Man, but after 15 years I still think of that guy. "Thank You!" Thank You Man!