last night, on my way to the show, i had a burning urge for.... rollercoastering..... i took a detour into disneyland and went straight for the rollercoaster on the california side. the daylong rain and chill made for perfect, empty lines.... walked right through... there's nothing quite as good as getting to let out the stress of the week by screaming like a giddy, school girl.... and that i was.... went around 4 times in a row.... then jumped back in the car and sped to the show...

later, i started thinking about, or wondering if i was cheating myself... just going for the cheap thrill and the quick-fix adrenalin rush... cutting out all the waiting and anticipation or buildup...

by focusing only on the instant gratification or rush, am i deadening myself to the rest of the "beauty" or fantasy of what the entire disneyland experience is supposed to be? or is this what my life has become... weeding out the time-consuming foofoorah, the pretty dressing, and going straight for the jugular... cutting to the chase...

did i just kill off a little child-like wonder in exchange for the self-feeding, instant quickie-on-demand?

naw.... it was awesome.... and i WAS screaming like a little girl....

I came onto a new pleasure-routine this past year... something I had never really done my whole life... going to the butcher to get my fresh meat on... and I do mean meat...

I recently stumbled into somewhat of a set diet... or a diet that has specific recipes. One in particular, requires a specific amount of ground beef.... since I know the exact amount, I have gotten into the habit of asking the butcher for a half pound of fresh ground, split into two quarter pounds... wrapped separately, but then packaged together in that brown butcher paper....

A fairly boring and unexciting order... but it is precise and the exact right amount... I never really thought about it much, that it was anything out of the ordinary, but every time I get to the butcher's counter, he says, "HEEEYYYYY, it's the double-quarter-ground-beef guy!!"

At first, I was flattered. Flattered to be remembered. So what if I had a stupid nickname.... it is nice to be greeted like family.... well, as close as you can get to family with a butcher....

But then I started to resent it... filling my head with gruff annoyance over my being tagged the "double pack meat guy". Dude, can't you remember my name?? Would it be so hard to just call me by my first name?? If you really want to be friendly, if you're really that excited to see me again, use my NAME!

I think this world would be a much happier place if everyone just said hello and tried to remember first names... the postman... the counter guy at the gym... the firestation guy... the late night girl at the all-night gas station... the check out girl in the grocery store... the bag-boy at the grocery store... the guy I keep walking past on my way to see the nightly sunset show at the beach... the electrician who's had to make three visits this past week to fix and re-fix my heater... the bouncer at that club... the girls falling down those steps... the host at the all-night diner... the girl in the back of that cab...

So many people we come into contact with every day... often again and again... and never take the time to remember their names... or even ask their name in the first place... we've become so impersonal... so faceless... so hardened and callous...

Maybe that will be my new year's resolution... to start being friendlier and really caring about people I meet every day... with at least the effort to get and use their name... to be able to say hello with my head held high! and not stare past them or look away...

So instead of being annoyed, I guess I should be saying thank you... Thank you, "Butcher Man".

Christmas eve, I was scurrying around with my last minute wrapping and putting on my bows and ribbons... we were about to race over to my brother's house... when my 16-year old nephew (sister's kid), Sammy, came in the room and saw some of the gifts I was wrapping up for my other nephews...

I was so proud to be giving my young 5-year old nephew, Joshua, a rocket (recommended for 10 years and older). Sammy agreed it was a cool gift.... then said...

Sammy: "Hey, where're the rest of the parts??"

me: "Very funny, what are you talking about?! It's all-included!"

Sammy: "No, there is no launcher or motor!"

I scanned and re-scanned the package to see if I really had missed the obvious listing of contents... sure enough.... none of the launch gear was included... "SOLD SEPARATELY!!"

Without missing a beat, Sammy said, "Hey, I got an idea!" and he ran outside to the garage... returning with a large package...

"This is a present I got a couple years ago and never used it... it's a ROCKET... WITH ALL THE NECESSARY PARTS AND MOTOR! Just give this one instead!!"

Now, I am not one to re-gift... in fact, I despise the thought.... but I was in a tough jam... we were leaving for the christmas festivities... I would have to break my rule... (plus, I was a little touched by my nephew's grown-up, altruistic, unselfish, quick thinking)... so I gave Sammy the new rocket that he could take back and trade for something later.... and I wrapped up the old rocket...

Christmas eve... everything was a smashing success...
my little nephew loved his rocket!! My brother enjoyed my inappropriate, age-mis-match gift.... all's well that ends well....


A couple days later, my nephew Sammy and I went back over to my brother's family's house again to help put the rocket together and take it out for a launch...
Joshua (the young nephew) was stoked and crazy happy for his rocket...

As Sammy got everything put together, he slowed down a bit and murmured, "Um... it seems there is a bag missing from the parts..." and he darted his eyes over at me, knowing he probably lost the parts somewhere in the last two years....

My brother and his wife asked, "Huh? Why would there be parts missing?"
and we sat there for a few moments of awkward squirming.... me, feeling sick to my stomach, while hurling death-stares at my nephew, Sammy.....

Finally, my brother said... "We know you re-gifted the present..."

me: "WHA??? What are you talking about??!"

Them: "This is the gift WE GAVE SAMMY TWO YEARS AGO!!!!"
"We weren't going to say anything about it, but since it won't work now, we couldn't keep it to ourselves..."

They laughed and laughed and kept reassuring me that it was no big deal.... but it was a big deal... I was busted... caught red-handed... it was my own fault, sort of...

We then went down to the hobby shop, bought an all-new rocket kit, with all the parts, assembled it and took it out to the park in the bitter cold. After several false alarm countdowns and mechanical difficulties and delays, we finally shot it off into the deep blue yonder...

It took us the entire day to get one launch... but after all that, I still think it was the best gift ever.... and as far as my little nephew is concerned, I am a super hero... but I suspect this will go down in the family Christmas history books...

about the little rocket that could...

Merry Christmas....

SECRET SANTA SONG

at cranes in hollywood tonight, i had the honor and privilege to join in the first annual 'secret santa song swap' with a bunch of amazing friends.....

a couple weeks ago, everyone drew names (about thirty of us), just like a 'normal' secret santa.... except, whoever we picked, we had to learn and sing that person's song...

so part of the 'gift' was getting to hear someone re-invent your song, but also not knowing WHO would be singing it... it was a surprise up to the moment they were about to start singing..

i think it turned into something bigger and more beautiful than anyone expected... and everyone knew we were all participating in something so special, while we were doing it....

it's like getting to read someone's diary, and then share the personal, fragile beauty you discovered with all your friends...

or maybe it's like being at the after-party of your own funeral, where all your friends sit around and tell stories about you... and laugh and cry about and love what you left inside of them.... but you get to hear it....

part of the joy in all of this, was getting to see the face of each person as his or her song was sung.... like getting to watch them open their best christmas present ever...

there is a quiet sweetness that comes out when someone sings your song.... like seeing a poem you wrote in another person's handwriting... you hear things that you might never have heard before in your own words... it somehow makes it more beautiful, more sad, more true...

we're halfway through mixing.... should be all done in a few days.... everything is sounding rather beautiful and amazing and i keep nearly wetting myself every time i hear one of ryan's mixes.... i think you, too, will wet yourself when you hear it...

that should be the new benchmark for how beautiful a song is....
"awww, you wet yourself? that is so lovely to hear!"

or that could be my calling card or marketing campaign for the new album....
"come wet yourself"....

or maybe it will be the album title...

"wet yourself"
or
"everybody wets themselves sometimes"
or
"a time for wetting"
or
"let it wet"
or
"wetness is the new dry"
or
"let's be wet"

The Cat-Maiden
(Aesop)

The gods were once disputing whether it was possible for a living being to change its nature. Jupiter said "Yes," but Venus said "No." So, to test the question, Jupiter turned a Cat into a Maiden and gave her to a young man for a wife. The wedding was duly performed and the young couple sat down to the wedding feast.

"See," said Jupiter, to Venus, "how becomingly she behaves. Who could tell that yesterday she was but a Cat? Surely, her nature is changed?"

"Wait a minute," replied Venus, and let loose a mouse into the room. No sooner did the bride see this than she jumped up from her seat, pounced on the mouse and bit its head off.

"Ah, you see," said Venus, "Nothing can change one's true nature."

just finished yet another version of the new song "devil's stream". joe has a good head about tempos and such... kept pushing me to re-record at a faster tempo... so i've done a third version at a new, quicker pace... and joe's right... it feels much better... i also raised the key... and i was worried all the peter pan harmonies are starting to sound like a cartoon choir...

joe: "hell no!! it sounds like f@#$@g michael miller!! you're done!! move on!!"

the voice of a good producer ringing in the air... and kicking me where i need to be kicked to get on with another one... then again, joe grew up as a huge, freaky YES fan and adores all the jon anderson/chris squire vocal "masterpieces". so now i am as paranoid as ever...

m

mmm... friday night... something in the air... in between sets, a gentleman helped himself up onstage... took the mic and tried picking up my guitar... he refused to get off until he could finish his joke. i could hear the joke going south, so i got back up and started strumming. he finally got down and i requested we have a moment of silence to absorb the suckness.
as i then played on, the establishment was forcing him to leave and take his food "to go". he started to get unruly and riled and the next thing i knew (while i was still singing), he was yelling and kicking tables over.... glasses and plates and chairs were crashing across the room... and he was yelling at me:

"Motherfu@..$! STOP PLAYING!!
STOP TRYING TO SOUND LIKE FU@..$%?G JOHN LENNON!!"

he just kept yelling that over and over.

while this saloon brawl was about to explode between he and his friend and some other kind patrons defending my honor over that scathing insult, i just kept playing and strumming chords through the instrumental section of "Munkie"... staring straight ahead like some mime piano player in a cheap western movie... waiting for something or someone to hit me...

eventually he left (screaming the whole way out "blah blah FU@..$!G! JOHN LENNON blah blah"). the police came late. no bullets were fired. the rest of the night, i just kept imagining him returning with more friends in a postal rage to shoot the place up (and me)...

my biggest regret was not having a tape recorder to get it all on tape... for you... maybe a secret track on the album... or a prize MP3 to download... i apologize...

i've had enough people wanting to kick my ass for many reasons... but this is the first time for trying to sound like John Lennon...

spent a late night over at joel's, trying to learn his ridiculous chords for a super beautiful new song for star hill academy... afterwards i stopped at the gym at 1:30 am with the rest of the vampires. well... all three of them...

life has slipped back into a malibu or carmel lifestyle. without the riches and comforts, of course. but with the elite's hoped-for isolation from humanity and lack of contact with anyone... sure there is a price to pay. like being in any carnival freak show when it pulls into town. you can feel the difference between you and regular folks when you're peeling their eyeballs off your skin as they gawk and ogle.

maybe EVERYone feels this way. an alien in their own skin, a fish flopping around on the deck of a boat, choking on his first breath of air... maybe we're all moving through this life like sanitarium escapees... and some are just better at "acting normal".