Yeah, you can follow me & I can follow you. Kinda.

I am not gonna put that on my phone. As it is, when I go to my page it rolls like a slot machine. Too many tweets from too many friends.
Staying connected is so overwhelming, sometimes I wanna just run to a cave someplace & hide. There are some people that seem to LIVE on Twitter & other social networking sites. While I do agree it’s important to stay connected, and, for a performing artist it’s ESSENTIAL to be there for your friends & fans, there are only 24 hours in a day.

Ya gotta eat. Ya gotta …do yer bizness. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve heard that unmistakable swoosh click of a sidekick, echoing over stall doors. Talking to my kids over dinner, they were carrying on a conversation with me while texting their friends.

How can a brain work like hat?

Once, I attempted to learn drums. I was amazed at how great drummers could keep one beat with their foot, while playing something entirely different with their hands, in fact, playing up to four different rhythms at once. So I tried Piano. Right. Left hand running bass lines in ¾ while the right hand is playing chords & melodies in 5/8.

I suppose multitasking in realtime keeps your brain active & may help prevent loss of coherency or acuity. But it’s just making me a little crazy & manic.

Although it seems archaic & maybe even inefficient, I prefer sitting down with my friends, just discussing life over a cuppajoe.
Without the Bluetooth on one ear, ipod in the other, in my car headed someplace with the news & traffic on the radio…

Some of you know the lil’ project I’m doing with Pauline (www.youtube.com/pspauline)

Apparently people enjoy parodies. Because now those lil’ youtube videos are getting reposted in ther places like YahooGLUE  http://glue.yahoo.com/page/watchtower+magazine

And Youtube Japan  http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=JP&hl=ja&v=Ezd5GY66AWI

Even Spain! http://www.videoblogs.com/visor_youtube.php?web=youtube&id=opKaeOTILTE&clave=como%20la%20folr&pagina=1

Andy Warhol was a pre-internet celebrity. He was known for “pop” art, & probably made more money on his painting of a Campbell’s soup can than the original designer did.

He had a cadre of artists & musicians, some of whom because enduring legends, other who had their “15 minutes of fame” & were gone. A lot of people can’t remember the name of the band who did the Macarena, or even “Octomom”’s real name. Now with twitter, anyone can be famous for 15 seconds, because they can be part of a celebrity tweet to that celebrity’s entire fanbase, where tens of thousands of people will see their name. Pauline & I will have more stuff up soon, and will be posting audio versions as well, so hopefully our fifteen minutes will last a lot longer, & the grins & smiles this stuff is generating can continue to help people feel better, & make the world a better place.
For at least 15 minutes.

I’ve been hearing a lot of exceptionally great music lately, & going thru some vintage classics to skewer for the parody project I’m doing with Comic Pauline
http://www.youtube.com/pspauline
SO of course, I started to feel really small. Like, “how the heck can my little songs compete? Why should anyone listen to MY songs when there is so much “better” out there?”
Then comes the email.
A friend requested a song I haven’t performed for over 30 years, one I almost forgot about, because he felt it was still relevant. Then Pauline forwards an email about how a fan got her entire office to see one of our performances on youtube, because she found it so hilarious. And another friend emailed a single word about a song I shared last showcase. The word was “Perfect”.
Just as I was feeling like maybe I should quit doing my own stuff so I can help others more, I get encouragement. Helping other artists get placement, encouraging them, helping them with their productions & just taking the time to listen is not enough.
My friend Gilli Moon said “Jimi, you are also an artist too, never forget that”.

Though I may be too old, too simple or not “something” enough to get help distributing what I do to a larger market, I am appreciated in places & by people I may never see or know about. A friend was the program director for a syndicated radio show, & back then, he was allowed to put his own selections into the mix. One of my songs was in there, & sometime later I got a LETTER from a fan in ....Philadelphia.. ..PA..... For a while, I would alternate fan letters & rejection letters (including contest entries where I was not a winner) but soon that stopped, because I stopped trying. I was still writing songs, still sharing them locally, but local acceptance among friends was about as far as I figured I could take what I had done. There are plenty of friends I can pitch for, so I don’t need to go through the pain of rejection myself. Yet, I know that just having one more industry person listen, even if the work is not picked up, means I have been heard by someone who would never have heard it otherwise. It’s an opportunity for the music to breathe & take on a life of it’s own. And once it’s done that, it has the power to come back & visit me again, just as this 30 something year old song is doing now.

I hope to have more available to share soon, & will be pitching for myself again as opportunities arise. I know most of you are too busy to listen, so I won’t ask that of you.

But when I do see you face to face, or we correspond directly, I want you to know that you are relevant to ME, part of my life & I am thankful that you’ve “listened” to my blog & my thoughts, words & sometimes, music.

I am blessed.

My father-in law passed away on my birthday, last Thursday.

My kids were close to their grandparents, & as my father in law, he was a friend.

He loved spicy food, & usually had a fresh jalapeno with every meal.

He wanted to savor the flavor of every individual thing he ate, & because of that, he’d always have his meals on a child’s “divided” plate to avoid mixing stuff up.

Wide but not fat, he cut an imposing figure wherever he went. Warm caring & friendly, he still looked like he could rip you in half with his bare hands if you got him upset, something I never saw, even when he had reason. He was always inquisitive, absorbing whatever he saw or heard. During his last few weeks, I would hang out at the house to watch over him in case he needed assistance, so I brought my laptop recording system to get some work done while he was asleep. But as soon as he heard the guitar, he’d get up & come over to see what I was doing. He’d ask about the software, the music industry in general & the songs I was writing. He enjoyed the new songs from my friends as well as what I was recording. We talked about the detail work involved with my guitar building, & the tools needed for that. He was an optician/optical tech grinding lenses by hand back before that was computerized & automated. He had collections, most of it stuff that made him happy, but really had little financial value. One of those collections was big belt buckles. Every one had a story about how he wound up with it, & what it meant to him. Souvenirs from vacations, pictures in boxes, reminders of a life well lived, & people blessed & touched by his presence.

My own father passed away decades ago, but it’s only been recently that my mom has started to share his collections with my brother & me. There’s a lot of stuff, more keepsakes than valuable heirlooms, just as with my father in law. But it’s the smiles, lessons & memories that I’ll treasure most, & though those will fade out along with me, at least I’ll know why I’m grinnin’ whenever I sink my teeth into a fresh jalapeno…

Been a lil’ quiet here on the ol’ blog, mostly because it’s been so busy & the ride has been intense. The previous blog about my cousin Sharon explains some of that.
Sharon’s mom, my auntie Shirley passed away yesterday.
Shirley was my mom’s kid sister, & for the most part, the bond between sisters seems to be stronger than that of brothers, or at least more obvious anyway.
Growing up, many family events were at auntie’s place. Her husband, uncle Jim, was a tinkerer & loved playing slotcars with us kids. His garage was a magical workshop where we would rewind motors, solder up parts & create stuff, while mom, grandma & Shirley were in the kitchen, cooking & talking endlessly. A perfect suburban family scene. Sometimes we would have Thanksgiving there, but us kids preferred to go to Taco Bell up the street instead. Not that turkey & stuff wasn’t great, it was just that tacos were easier to handle running around the yard, & as kids, we wanted something different anyway. & that was okay. Always laughing & smiling, Auntie cared about us like we were her own kids. The importance of family ran deep, & we all wanted to be there. She took in a foster child & he became part of the family too. Her place was where all my cousins would drop by just to say hello, & when I finally got my first car, it was one of the first places I drove to outside of L.A.
Uncle Jim passed away before my cousin Jackie was born, so auntie was a single mom back in a time when such things were not discussed. Courageous & full of life, she was always generous with her time, & helped me understand why some things were the way they were when I had arguments with my own parents.
Somewhere between diabetes & cancer, Auntie’s health started a downhill run & a severe fall caused enough injury to put her in a nursing home a few years ago. Cousin Sharon’s passing almost two months to the day ago may have given her a cue that it was okay to leave, that she had done a great job & was a blessing to countless people who crossed her path
Last night, I played @ the Talking Stick, & had an opportunity to share the stage with a rising new artist for one song, & share a few of my own, including a new song that started out as a note from a friend about putting up pictures, that became a tribute to those who have touched our lives that we may not see again for a long while.
I hope to have it up on my other page soon, to remember Auntie Shirley, Cousin Sharon & those friends of mine that are getting ready to go home soon.
Their pictures will always be up on the walls of my heart, reminders of the grace & love that has been gifted to me,  that I can hope to share with friends around me too.
Treasured friends, like the readers of my blog.
Thanks.
I am honored by your friendship.

:)

My Friend Cat Cohen forwarded a note about an experiment with famous violinist Joshua Bell, performing as a street musician in a DC metro station.
 I saw that video about 2 years ago.
People just walked by without giving it a second thought:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html

Although the transportation culture of DC is different from L.A., hoity-toity classical violin fans who can afford a 100 dollar concert ticket would probably NOT be riding the metro.

Perception of RELEVANT beauty is what it's about. Metro riders would not be in a socio-economic position to appreciate "fine" music. They cannot afford the TIME to stop & listen.

"Entertainment" however, can occur in a moment & can be appreciated more readily by the masses, "Naked Cowboy" has made a decent career of street performing.

It also proves the value of tastemakers: "how does a person know it's good unless someone tells 'em?"

This is a big factor in marketing, why DJs & podcasters have become "rockstars" in their own right, just as food critics & movie reviewers have fans as well.

Our society & culture have provided us with an overwhelming array of choices that would take a lifetime just to sort out. Some of what may be perceived as fine classical music may in fact be cacophony in a modern context, if the only people who "appreciate" it are mindless types who can afford the time to just sit & listen, and are told this is "good". There are musical traditions that long precede "classical music". Why aren't those considered "classic"?

In Beethoven's time, what were the choices? If it's all you got, does that make it great?

As the cliche goes, beauty is in the eye (ear) of the beholder.

While I might have enjoyed Josh Bell for a moment in that context, I would have just as much enjoyed a complex groove being banged out on a couple of inverted buckets by a street drummer.

And a large part of that also comes from the fact that Mr. Bell is playing someone else's music, whereas the street drummer is playing from the essence of his heart & soul.

& that is the beauty of great music to me.

:)

There are pictures from the 60's, where all the cousins on my mom's side would line up for that requisite photograph, & we had to look like we were happy, even as we squirmed & whined & wanted to get back to the board games & food that were a child's eye view of every family event.
Uncle Jim, Sharon's dad, was a big guy, & Sharon was the tallest of my cousins. It seemed she was constantly talking, & always giving us her opinions & things she had read or heard about. When uncle Jim passed away at an early age, Sharon stepped up & took a lot of responsibility. She was one of the first of my cousins to get married, & immediately started creating traditions in her own home, inviting us all over for holiday gatherings…where soon our kids would line up for "those" pictures.

Sharon was always part of what was happening with the family. She was the planner, the chauffeur, coordinator & greeter. Even as her health deteriorated she kept going. Just this Sunday, I heard she was helping to plan something at her church.

But Monday morning, she awoke in a different place.

Sharon was only a couple of years older than me, & her passing is yet another reminder that just like when we were kids on a visit, we're never ready when it's time to go home. There will always be stuff to clean up, thoughts left unspoken & things to do
Yet, for that brief moment in time that is our lifespan in the context of eternity, our visit is over, the purpose for our visit fulfilled.
Although in recent years, Sharon & I never talked much, we were family, & that was enough. When we would see each other, we'd ask about kids, life & plans for the future.
We would remember family gatherings of years past, and continue on from where we left off.
As this year closes, many of my friends try to eloquently summarize all that's happened & attach it to the timeline of their existence. There will be celebrations of Christmas & the New Year, & next month, a new president.
Sharon's timeline may have come to it's end, but her life will be celebrated in the legacy of her friends, children & every life she touched.
And the Grace of God, provided thru her hands, will continue forever.

And there is this black & white picture, from 1963…