Here I am back at the same Hong Kong Airport where I marveled at the fact of finding a Starbucks some 8 weeks ago, when I was on my way to Thailand. I've gotten to know this airport a little better than I need to, by virtue of the fact that I had to spend the night here last night due to my carelessness in booking the itinerary, but it wasn't too bad. I managed to grab a few hours sleep, and now that my teeth are brushed and my face is rinsed off, I feel pretty decent... ready to hang out about 7 more hours here before catching a 14 hour flight to LA and eventually Portland. No complaints at all, I'm healthy and my attitude is quite good.
Yesterday I spent a nice visit with Peter Martin and his girlfriend at their place in Bangkok; he even picked me up from, and dropped me back off at the airport in Bangkok, as his place is pretty close to there. If I couldn't get hold of him, I was figuring to make my way into the city to have a look around (still haven't seen it yet, but this was probably better, as I got a little rest and relaxation, not to mention air conditioning. It's really sticky in Thailand now, a good time to be heading out of there. The heat and humidity just sap and zap you.
Tried to share my 'All I want this holiday is you' love song with Peter and his Thai lady, but it was too emotional, and I could barely make it through. I was really feeling the lack of M by the late afternoon. It was kind of funny in a way. I was doing fine until Peter's girlfriend (Sangh) came home from her school, and when I started hearing her voice and her way of speaking, it totally brought up memories of M, and I started losing it, especially when I tried to sing. (I'm sure there is a joke about sing and sangh but it's not occurring to me at the moment). Although I do remember the one about a Boston Redsox pitcher, a Korean named 'Song Sung'. Some Sports Illustrated writer composed some funny verses about baseball names for a preseason issue and he wrote.
'Neil Diamond's words turned out to be true
Boston reliever Song Sung blew'
I'm not feeling blue at the moment, and I'll just see how the thoughts proceed as I rewind my trip, kind of like letting the tape measure go back into the case. I really did open myself up to another person, but equally true is the fact that I love 'the ladies' and those two truths seem somehow self-canceling, and unresolvable. But rather than assume to know how it plays out, I'll just observe and make my decisions based on what I find along the way. The internal camino. That has certainly been the theme of the past couple of months. There is a lot of comfort in the notion that I don't need to have all the answers. Better to 'seem to be a verb' and take it moment to moment. Like right now, for instance...
Out
Probably had THE best bar night ever last night
It started when Jeff (owner) asked if I could play the opening set, as he had had a cancelation. Uh yeah, sure I could, would love to in fact, as Friday is a perfect night to play there. They put on a little free barbecue for the regulars, so there is a built in crowd. I did my thing, people really enjoyed it, got to perform many of my new compositions which is really satisfying.
His girlfriend Dao is the actual owner of the bar, as she is Thai, and it's just much simpler to have it all in her name. Anyhow, she is a great person, and we really appreciate each other. At one point, she was 'joking around' with me by pretending to put a little hex on me that I would return here from America. It was all light-hearted, but mystical me, I picked up something a little voodoo in it all. In a good way, that is. I mean lots of people are indicating that I should live here and come back here and make music here, but there was something just a little bit different about Dao's approach. So I wanted to ask her about it, which I did when there was a lull in the proceedings.
And we had a great talk, with her telling me that she knows I'm a good person and that there is some force that wants good people to join with other good people. She said that it wasn't about me coming back here to be with M, that wasn't her intention, but she did want to put it out there in the ether that this is where I belong. And I'm just mystical enough to feel that Dao's joking approach, wasn't really a joke at all, but a spiritual message that carries a lot of weight. It's just a sense that I have, and if I've learned anything over the years, it is to trust those little intuitions and be open to them. So I am.
My set was a lot of fun, and I was followed by this Thai guy who was pretty good, especially when he started laying down some Marley tunes. I grabbed a guitar, plugged in and started laying down some bass lines, leads and harmony vocals and it became a great little jam session. Afterward, 'Downtown Johnny', who is one of the more intriguing characters around here, played a set and I back him up also, along with some other singers and percussionists and it was a total howl. This was due partly to the fact that Dao took it upon herself to get me drunk. I never have more than one beer, but since it was my last night, she gave me about 4 of them, wanting me to not know what my own name was. So I got a nice buzz on, smoked a few cigarettes and made like everybody else, instead of being the clean and sober member of the group. Nice change of pace.
Back to Downtown Johnny, he's about 60, combat veteran of the Vietnam War and it definitely screwed him up. He also has dealt with leukemia, perhaps related to that experience, but he's living on a $3000/month psychological disability from the army, which is a lot of money for these parts. He's also a drunk, thougha nice one, tends to put the negativity on himself, rather than lashing out, so by the end of the night, he's usually lamenting and calling himself 'retahded' in his Maine accent.
So why am I so intrigued by the guy? Because he's an amazing singer and guitarist, with the kind of transcendent voice that just rocks the room. He can belt it out, he can sing really high and falsetto and every time he straps on, the room has a different chemistry to it. It's uncanny. I'm the opposite, very controlled, sophisticated in my playing, non-adventurous with my singing, but still good to listen to. He is super impressed with me, calls me 'an entertainer and a great musician' and I'm super impressed with him, just a marvelous vocalist who sends chills up your spine, kind of like Stevie Wonder can do when he reaches back and rips it vocally. And we're opposites as far as Vietnam is concerned too, he was a front line combat soldier, I was a hippie kid protesting in front of the White House. That sense of opposites attracting is very strong between the two of us, and it was deeply satisfying to play the final set with him, have it work out in a big way and rock the house together. It's a music thing and a friend thing, and last night's energy was the peak of it somethow. Especially when it got late and Jeff was wanting to quiet it down, Johnny started playing 'A Day in The Life' by the Beatles, complete with that noisy crescendo that made the whole place go nuts. We were screaming, banging things getting absurdly louder and louder and something got really freed up in that section. Carnaval and Purim and Mardi Gras all rolled up together. Unforgettable...
Spent a lovely night with M afterwards, no grieving, I think we've been pre-grieving enough so that there's not much more left to suffer, at least on this end. It's been a beautiful ride and maybe there will be more to come. Either way, we'll be friends and supporters, so let's just see what unfolds and we'll go from there. (at least that's how I feel today at 4pm) I'll make a farewell appearance at the bar tonight, maybe play a few songs around 8pm, say farewell to my friends and then try to get a decent night's sleep before some huge travel. I have 3 books to read, a guitar to play, and before I know it, I'll be in Portland, OR. Hard to imagine, but it's true...
Out...
His girlfriend Dao is the actual owner of the bar, as she is Thai, and it's just much simpler to have it all in her name. Anyhow, she is a great person, and we really appreciate each other. At one point, she was 'joking around' with me by pretending to put a little hex on me that I would return here from America. It was all light-hearted, but mystical me, I picked up something a little voodoo in it all. In a good way, that is. I mean lots of people are indicating that I should live here and come back here and make music here, but there was something just a little bit different about Dao's approach. So I wanted to ask her about it, which I did when there was a lull in the proceedings.
And we had a great talk, with her telling me that she knows I'm a good person and that there is some force that wants good people to join with other good people. She said that it wasn't about me coming back here to be with M, that wasn't her intention, but she did want to put it out there in the ether that this is where I belong. And I'm just mystical enough to feel that Dao's joking approach, wasn't really a joke at all, but a spiritual message that carries a lot of weight. It's just a sense that I have, and if I've learned anything over the years, it is to trust those little intuitions and be open to them. So I am.
My set was a lot of fun, and I was followed by this Thai guy who was pretty good, especially when he started laying down some Marley tunes. I grabbed a guitar, plugged in and started laying down some bass lines, leads and harmony vocals and it became a great little jam session. Afterward, 'Downtown Johnny', who is one of the more intriguing characters around here, played a set and I back him up also, along with some other singers and percussionists and it was a total howl. This was due partly to the fact that Dao took it upon herself to get me drunk. I never have more than one beer, but since it was my last night, she gave me about 4 of them, wanting me to not know what my own name was. So I got a nice buzz on, smoked a few cigarettes and made like everybody else, instead of being the clean and sober member of the group. Nice change of pace.
Back to Downtown Johnny, he's about 60, combat veteran of the Vietnam War and it definitely screwed him up. He also has dealt with leukemia, perhaps related to that experience, but he's living on a $3000/month psychological disability from the army, which is a lot of money for these parts. He's also a drunk, thougha nice one, tends to put the negativity on himself, rather than lashing out, so by the end of the night, he's usually lamenting and calling himself 'retahded' in his Maine accent.
So why am I so intrigued by the guy? Because he's an amazing singer and guitarist, with the kind of transcendent voice that just rocks the room. He can belt it out, he can sing really high and falsetto and every time he straps on, the room has a different chemistry to it. It's uncanny. I'm the opposite, very controlled, sophisticated in my playing, non-adventurous with my singing, but still good to listen to. He is super impressed with me, calls me 'an entertainer and a great musician' and I'm super impressed with him, just a marvelous vocalist who sends chills up your spine, kind of like Stevie Wonder can do when he reaches back and rips it vocally. And we're opposites as far as Vietnam is concerned too, he was a front line combat soldier, I was a hippie kid protesting in front of the White House. That sense of opposites attracting is very strong between the two of us, and it was deeply satisfying to play the final set with him, have it work out in a big way and rock the house together. It's a music thing and a friend thing, and last night's energy was the peak of it somethow. Especially when it got late and Jeff was wanting to quiet it down, Johnny started playing 'A Day in The Life' by the Beatles, complete with that noisy crescendo that made the whole place go nuts. We were screaming, banging things getting absurdly louder and louder and something got really freed up in that section. Carnaval and Purim and Mardi Gras all rolled up together. Unforgettable...
Spent a lovely night with M afterwards, no grieving, I think we've been pre-grieving enough so that there's not much more left to suffer, at least on this end. It's been a beautiful ride and maybe there will be more to come. Either way, we'll be friends and supporters, so let's just see what unfolds and we'll go from there. (at least that's how I feel today at 4pm) I'll make a farewell appearance at the bar tonight, maybe play a few songs around 8pm, say farewell to my friends and then try to get a decent night's sleep before some huge travel. I have 3 books to read, a guitar to play, and before I know it, I'll be in Portland, OR. Hard to imagine, but it's true...
Out...
For all we know....
Just before leaving on this SE Asia trip, I learned a few songs via my friend Kim Donahey, who is a musical comedy singer in Eugene. She likes the same kind of schmaltz that I do, show tunes, stuff from the 30s and 40s, and she had a list of songs that she thought were great ones. One of them really hit me back then, a ballad about a guy going off to war and wondering if he'll ever see his sweetheart again. It's really a beautiful melody and progression, and I was touched by it, and I'm now being retouched by it as I'm preparing to say goodbye to M. And I wonder if we'll ever see eachother again...
For all we know, we may never meet again
Before you go, make this moment sweet again
We won't say goodbye until the last minute
I'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it.
For all we know, this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple on a stream
So love me tonight, tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just writing it out with the melody in my head makes me get choked up. It's really hard to say goodbye, as we've established a very beautiful heart connection, spent every night together, cherished eachother in a very big way. What an interesting paradox that brings up all of the emotions! It's so easy to swirl into all of the old programming; 'it's just a honeymoon, Rich, you know that it ends and reality takes over' 'You know that the Thai women are just trying to hook a Farang for economic reasons' 'How would it be to really live with her for an extended period of time?' Lots of noise circling the heartfelt core of finding someone who I adore being close to. There's a chemical piece to it that is undeniable, the smell and taste of it feels like home. Can't fake that part of it.
She seriously tells me that she would wait for me if that's what I wanted, and I believe her, strange as it sounds. Realistically, the soonest I could get back here would be in November, assuming that I'd make a nice chunk of income in September and October as happened this year, but that's not a sure thing either. That was based on the fact that my success at last year's PBIS generated a lot of fall work, and there's no guarantee that I'll duplicate that result. (especially after playing the converence about 12 hours after arriving back in Eugene). but I'm gonna try.
My sense at the moment is that I can make no promises until I leave this place and regather my perspective back home in Oregon. It would be stupid to be sure of anything until I see who the new version of myself happens to be. So I'm faced with the inevitability of a tearful and heart wrenching separation, a shock to the system and then whatever happens. We're both kind of scared about it. We were up holding on to each other in the middle of the night last night and it was exquisitely painful to consider the fact that time is just about gone. There's a lump in my throat just thinking about it. For all we know...
For all we know, we may never meet again
Before you go, make this moment sweet again
We won't say goodbye until the last minute
I'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it.
For all we know, this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple on a stream
So love me tonight, tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just writing it out with the melody in my head makes me get choked up. It's really hard to say goodbye, as we've established a very beautiful heart connection, spent every night together, cherished eachother in a very big way. What an interesting paradox that brings up all of the emotions! It's so easy to swirl into all of the old programming; 'it's just a honeymoon, Rich, you know that it ends and reality takes over' 'You know that the Thai women are just trying to hook a Farang for economic reasons' 'How would it be to really live with her for an extended period of time?' Lots of noise circling the heartfelt core of finding someone who I adore being close to. There's a chemical piece to it that is undeniable, the smell and taste of it feels like home. Can't fake that part of it.
She seriously tells me that she would wait for me if that's what I wanted, and I believe her, strange as it sounds. Realistically, the soonest I could get back here would be in November, assuming that I'd make a nice chunk of income in September and October as happened this year, but that's not a sure thing either. That was based on the fact that my success at last year's PBIS generated a lot of fall work, and there's no guarantee that I'll duplicate that result. (especially after playing the converence about 12 hours after arriving back in Eugene). but I'm gonna try.
My sense at the moment is that I can make no promises until I leave this place and regather my perspective back home in Oregon. It would be stupid to be sure of anything until I see who the new version of myself happens to be. So I'm faced with the inevitability of a tearful and heart wrenching separation, a shock to the system and then whatever happens. We're both kind of scared about it. We were up holding on to each other in the middle of the night last night and it was exquisitely painful to consider the fact that time is just about gone. There's a lump in my throat just thinking about it. For all we know...
Music Music Music
Spent hours and hours playing with the French virtuoso Daniel yesterday afternoon. He pulled out his Django Rienhart fake book and we read through a bunch of songs, holy crap I could hardly believe I was playing this stuff. It moves really quickly, has beautiful changes and is flat out fun to jam on. He is a ridiculously good guitarist who was on his way out of town with his Thai wife. She was ready to split, but he pleaded that it's the last time he'll get to play with me, so please. one more hour, OK? It's the kind of thing where he doesn't get to have a rhythm player lay it down for him too often, and when he finds one, he likes to stretch out and let it rip. This was one of the few times I regretted not having a little video camera with which to roll tape and upload to Youtube. Just a great time playing, learning (it was definitely a guitar lesson for me) and I need to revisit some of those Django voicings he showed me). I ended up with a nice blister on my thumb from gripping so hard. Well worth it.
Afterwards I gave a guitar lesson to my friend Al, that focused on the diminished chord, which to me is what separates hamronically interesting music, from the normal stuff that everybody plays. There are a number of ways that you can use it, and I showed him a few examples. He was way into it and asked if we could get together today for another go-round. He says, 'I know you're busy, but if you have time...' To which I replied, 'dude I am anything but busy, and if you're into it, let's do it'
So we're on for 3pm this afternoon, same time, same station. And he downloaded the Django fake book into his 'stick', and will print out a copy for me to take home. Very cool news, that. (I can add it to my other books that I don't hardly use). kidding, I'll use this one, it's a great reference work.
I even managed to concentrate long enough to get a good way into the next song, which is called 'American Song' Here's what I have so far.
D7..................................G7..............
There's a certain music that everybody knows
C7........................................F......................
Can't say where it started, but I sure know where it goes
D7....................................G7................
Right around the circle, hang on it won't be long
......Bb.........Bdim.........F........D7.........G7........C7.......F
On a railroad line to a simpler time you'll find an American Song
Beethoven used this harmony, ain't nothing new under the sun
Six goes to the Two chord, Five goes to the One
If you add a little ragtime, all your friends can swing along
And if I'm blue here's what I do, I play an American song
Up a lazy river with Sweet Georgia Brown
Shine On Harvest moon, over the sleepy town
McCartney took a crack at it when he wrote Rocky Raccoon
Nice one, Paul, but all in all it's still an American tune
Afterwards I gave a guitar lesson to my friend Al, that focused on the diminished chord, which to me is what separates hamronically interesting music, from the normal stuff that everybody plays. There are a number of ways that you can use it, and I showed him a few examples. He was way into it and asked if we could get together today for another go-round. He says, 'I know you're busy, but if you have time...' To which I replied, 'dude I am anything but busy, and if you're into it, let's do it'
So we're on for 3pm this afternoon, same time, same station. And he downloaded the Django fake book into his 'stick', and will print out a copy for me to take home. Very cool news, that. (I can add it to my other books that I don't hardly use). kidding, I'll use this one, it's a great reference work.
I even managed to concentrate long enough to get a good way into the next song, which is called 'American Song' Here's what I have so far.
D7..................................G7..............
There's a certain music that everybody knows
C7........................................F......................
Can't say where it started, but I sure know where it goes
D7....................................G7................
Right around the circle, hang on it won't be long
......Bb.........Bdim.........F........D7.........G7........C7.......F
On a railroad line to a simpler time you'll find an American Song
Beethoven used this harmony, ain't nothing new under the sun
Six goes to the Two chord, Five goes to the One
If you add a little ragtime, all your friends can swing along
And if I'm blue here's what I do, I play an American song
Up a lazy river with Sweet Georgia Brown
Shine On Harvest moon, over the sleepy town
McCartney took a crack at it when he wrote Rocky Raccoon
Nice one, Paul, but all in all it's still an American tune
Boom Boom (self explanatory)
Here's one of the more crowd pleasing numbers I've ever created. The groove is up-tempo, kind of a calypso feel, simple chords ala Brown Eyed Girl, Pata Pata etc. It's a bar song.
Boom Boom
I saw her at the Tha Pei Gate
She was stepping out of a tuk tuk
Oh God did she look great
Had to take a second look look
I went over and said hello
Little smile went across her face
Pretty soon it was time to go
She and I went back to my place
Boom Boom Hour by hour
Boom Boom Under the shower
Boom Boom Just like the younger days
Boom Boom Baby let me count the ways
Boom Boom Long as you're able
Boom Boom Under the table
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Bridge
Baby I'm gonna treat you right
Me love you day and night
Oh come on let me show you
So glad I get to know you
Boom Boom I said 'it's the right time'
Boom Boom She said 'it's delight time'
Boom Boom There ain't no wrong time
Boom Boom Me love you long time
Boom Boom You say you love me
Boom Boom Climb on above me
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Bridge
Boom Boom On the veranda
Boom Boom Your wish is my commanda
Boom Boom Took five so we could unwind
Boom Boom Then we went back to the grind
Boom Boom We did it every which way
Boom Boom Right out of Cirque du Soleil
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom She looks like Beyonce
Boom Boom Don't tell my fiance
Boom Boom A day I'll never forget
Boom Boom Oh lord, please not yet
Boom Boom Who's bangin' up against the wall?
Boom Boom Must have been the alcohol
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom Three days in Bangkok
Boom Boom I better go see the doc
Boom Boom Shoulda used protection
Boom Boom I got an infection
Boom Boom My lady caught me red handed
Boom Boom It's a double standard
Boom Boom I think my marriage is doomed
All because of that Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom
I saw her at the Tha Pei Gate
She was stepping out of a tuk tuk
Oh God did she look great
Had to take a second look look
I went over and said hello
Little smile went across her face
Pretty soon it was time to go
She and I went back to my place
Boom Boom Hour by hour
Boom Boom Under the shower
Boom Boom Just like the younger days
Boom Boom Baby let me count the ways
Boom Boom Long as you're able
Boom Boom Under the table
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Bridge
Baby I'm gonna treat you right
Me love you day and night
Oh come on let me show you
So glad I get to know you
Boom Boom I said 'it's the right time'
Boom Boom She said 'it's delight time'
Boom Boom There ain't no wrong time
Boom Boom Me love you long time
Boom Boom You say you love me
Boom Boom Climb on above me
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Bridge
Boom Boom On the veranda
Boom Boom Your wish is my commanda
Boom Boom Took five so we could unwind
Boom Boom Then we went back to the grind
Boom Boom We did it every which way
Boom Boom Right out of Cirque du Soleil
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom She looks like Beyonce
Boom Boom Don't tell my fiance
Boom Boom A day I'll never forget
Boom Boom Oh lord, please not yet
Boom Boom Who's bangin' up against the wall?
Boom Boom Must have been the alcohol
Come on up to my bedroom
Everybody needs a little Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom Three days in Bangkok
Boom Boom I better go see the doc
Boom Boom Shoulda used protection
Boom Boom I got an infection
Boom Boom My lady caught me red handed
Boom Boom It's a double standard
Boom Boom I think my marriage is doomed
All because of that Boom Boom Boom
Telenovela
'Telenovela' is how my Spanish speaking friend Jeya describes this blog. That's the Mexican version of the soap opera, which millions of people tune in to watch on a weekly basis, to see whether the handsome doctor has recovered from his amnesia, or the secret love child has been discovered or the father has slept with his son's girlfriend. Well hey, if the zapato fits... (see what I did there? :-)
Before I update the novela, I just triggered a memory from a long time ago, when I was a twenty year old, tall dark and handsome gringo tripping around Mexico for the first time. I was in major 'adventure mode', hiking over mountains with local indians, getting to places where they hardly spoke Spanish, let alone English, spending every night in my hammock, never paid a dime for lodging in two months. I remember going into this pueblo and talking to some locals for a few minutes. This fifteen year old girl starts talking to me; she was holding a comic book version of the telenovela, a little teenage harlequin romance comic, poplular in those days. In all seriousness, she asked to go with me on my travels. She was in some fantasy land of 'here comes the tall stranger into town to rescue me from my boring life, and we'll go off together for true love... or God knows what... I remember being struck with the sincerity and seriousness of her desire to run of with me. (Trust me, dear, you're better off here.... have a tortilla)
Had a great day yesterday, though not without drama. M and I got a great night's sleep (a rarity) and went off for a big breakfast of two entrees each, two coffees each and a $10 tab for me, the big spender. It's a place that she turned me onto a few weeks ago, incredible food, fun atmosphere, and like most of the places in the central zone, very dependent on the Farang for it's economic health. But is that a bad thing? I don't think so. It's a balancing act to be sure, but it seems to work here in that Chiang Mai is a great and safe and comfortable place for us to be, and in turn we provide a lot of the engine for their economy. It's working, I believe.
We separated after the meal, she to get ready for work, me to write and read, swim and work on music, and gracias a Dios, I've got the next tune coming down the turnpike. It's called 'American Song' and I'll likely finish it today and then put up some lyrics. It has to do with a progression that goes D7 G7 C7 F which among other things is the basis for 'Sweet Georgia Brown', 'Up a Lazy River' 'Shine on Harvest Moon' 'Rocky Raccoon' and more... so now I'll write my version of that song too. Hey if Hoagy Carmichael and Paul McCartney can do it, why not Glauber? (he asked rhetorically)
Last night my plan was to not go to my hang out bar (CU Corner, is the name), because I didn't want to watch M smoke and drink, didn't want to judge, just let her do her thing, and if I don't see it, then I don't get tweaked. It worked, she did her gig and I did mine, in this case I played some music with friends at a place around the corner. There was a slight problem in that, because when I'm holding forth in that way, people tend to gravitate to the music, and I felt that we sucked a bit of business from the CU, which made me uncomfortable. I wouldn't want to make a practice of setting up so close by, but then again, they're not paying me, and I like to play and I've asked for a slot there, so hey, what can I say? I'm a musician, and if people are drawn to it....
Among the folks drawn to it are my Hebrew buddies, Kevin and Harris, and it just turned into another hysterical night of laughter and improvisation and major schtick. It's what we do, and that's also part of the reason that people want to hang out in that environment. Uh, it's funny? Ain't enough humor in the world, and people have the instinctive desire to be around laughter. But the louder we got, the more I was concerned that Jeff, owner of CU would feel betrayed and pissed about our setting up so close by to his place. Oh well, I think we'll all survive it, but I'll check in with him today to get a read on the situation...
Also drawn to the music were two 6 foot tall Dutch women, (12 lineal feet of Netherlands dames, both of them drop dead gorgeous). M and I had met them a few nights ago as we shared a table at a local street food place and we had a lot of fun with eachother. It's not like I was attracted or anything... (right, Rich) Actually I was super attracted to both of them... and you know, the Dutch are very liberal in their attitudes about sex and all... as my mind started spinning into fantasy land.
So they showed up last night and sat down with me and the boys and the Zimbabwe women who have become a fixture, and the Lebanese guy, and the American Thai owner, and it was a very fun scene, singing Elvis songs, Beatles, Glauber originals, Doors, whatever. But these 12 feet of Dutchness, OMG how cute, early thirties, very cool, both had done modeling gigs and were about to be in a friend's music video, both of them very into me and my creativity. Why, if I was single, I would have tried to figure out a way to test out the 'liberal attitudes' alluded to in the previous paragraph. Seriously. So there's the rub (or lack of rub). How can I be totally fulfilled in a sexual way, which I definitely am, yet still want to 'Go Dutch' as it were. It's a little microcosm of my skirt chaser history, and the fact that I had such a strong reaction to it, makes it feel 'blog-worthy'.
Because the first thing that happens is that I feel guilty about that attraction. Even though I didn't 'do' anything. In my mind, yeah, I'd do plenty, and that fantasy knowledge has always felt like a failure in some way, as if I'm 'supposed' to not be attracted out there. In the past, I would use that guilt as a (what's the word I'm looking for) justification, for the fact that I didn't deserve a relationship. I'm too much of a horn dog to be in a relationship. I want to fuck every good looking woman I see, how can I stay with one person? it's too compelling out there, adios... And along with that, 'how could I do this to the one who loves me? how would I feel if she had the same attitude? I couldn't take it. equals adios... it's less frightening to just forget about relationship and be 'free' to do what I want. Though of course the word 'free' is meant ironically, because it's a freedom based on something that feels the opposite of free. (one of those knots that RD Laing wrote about?)
Intellectually I know that 'guilt' is not the best response to feeling attracted, but I'm programmed somehow to go there first. I'd like to rewire that pattern, and I think I got a glimpse about how to approach it. There I am in bed with M, we just had a ridiculously great night of 'connection', and I'm now thinking about the Netherlands, lying in bed with my chinese/thai girlfriend, starting to feel guilty (in between fantasies, that is) So what if I can treat that little mind trip the same way that I've been treating the other mind trips that I do? Can I experience the feeling, really feel it, and then move on from it, rather than linger there and stew. When I started consciously thinking in those terms, there was an immediate relaxation of the guilt reflex, as if 'I'm on the right track'. So that's the plan for today and hopefully into the future. Feel it, don't judge it, have a look at it, and then let it go to see what pops up next (pun intended, can't help it).
Cut to commercial and then scenes from next week's episode... fade out....
Before I update the novela, I just triggered a memory from a long time ago, when I was a twenty year old, tall dark and handsome gringo tripping around Mexico for the first time. I was in major 'adventure mode', hiking over mountains with local indians, getting to places where they hardly spoke Spanish, let alone English, spending every night in my hammock, never paid a dime for lodging in two months. I remember going into this pueblo and talking to some locals for a few minutes. This fifteen year old girl starts talking to me; she was holding a comic book version of the telenovela, a little teenage harlequin romance comic, poplular in those days. In all seriousness, she asked to go with me on my travels. She was in some fantasy land of 'here comes the tall stranger into town to rescue me from my boring life, and we'll go off together for true love... or God knows what... I remember being struck with the sincerity and seriousness of her desire to run of with me. (Trust me, dear, you're better off here.... have a tortilla)
Had a great day yesterday, though not without drama. M and I got a great night's sleep (a rarity) and went off for a big breakfast of two entrees each, two coffees each and a $10 tab for me, the big spender. It's a place that she turned me onto a few weeks ago, incredible food, fun atmosphere, and like most of the places in the central zone, very dependent on the Farang for it's economic health. But is that a bad thing? I don't think so. It's a balancing act to be sure, but it seems to work here in that Chiang Mai is a great and safe and comfortable place for us to be, and in turn we provide a lot of the engine for their economy. It's working, I believe.
We separated after the meal, she to get ready for work, me to write and read, swim and work on music, and gracias a Dios, I've got the next tune coming down the turnpike. It's called 'American Song' and I'll likely finish it today and then put up some lyrics. It has to do with a progression that goes D7 G7 C7 F which among other things is the basis for 'Sweet Georgia Brown', 'Up a Lazy River' 'Shine on Harvest Moon' 'Rocky Raccoon' and more... so now I'll write my version of that song too. Hey if Hoagy Carmichael and Paul McCartney can do it, why not Glauber? (he asked rhetorically)
Last night my plan was to not go to my hang out bar (CU Corner, is the name), because I didn't want to watch M smoke and drink, didn't want to judge, just let her do her thing, and if I don't see it, then I don't get tweaked. It worked, she did her gig and I did mine, in this case I played some music with friends at a place around the corner. There was a slight problem in that, because when I'm holding forth in that way, people tend to gravitate to the music, and I felt that we sucked a bit of business from the CU, which made me uncomfortable. I wouldn't want to make a practice of setting up so close by, but then again, they're not paying me, and I like to play and I've asked for a slot there, so hey, what can I say? I'm a musician, and if people are drawn to it....
Among the folks drawn to it are my Hebrew buddies, Kevin and Harris, and it just turned into another hysterical night of laughter and improvisation and major schtick. It's what we do, and that's also part of the reason that people want to hang out in that environment. Uh, it's funny? Ain't enough humor in the world, and people have the instinctive desire to be around laughter. But the louder we got, the more I was concerned that Jeff, owner of CU would feel betrayed and pissed about our setting up so close by to his place. Oh well, I think we'll all survive it, but I'll check in with him today to get a read on the situation...
Also drawn to the music were two 6 foot tall Dutch women, (12 lineal feet of Netherlands dames, both of them drop dead gorgeous). M and I had met them a few nights ago as we shared a table at a local street food place and we had a lot of fun with eachother. It's not like I was attracted or anything... (right, Rich) Actually I was super attracted to both of them... and you know, the Dutch are very liberal in their attitudes about sex and all... as my mind started spinning into fantasy land.
So they showed up last night and sat down with me and the boys and the Zimbabwe women who have become a fixture, and the Lebanese guy, and the American Thai owner, and it was a very fun scene, singing Elvis songs, Beatles, Glauber originals, Doors, whatever. But these 12 feet of Dutchness, OMG how cute, early thirties, very cool, both had done modeling gigs and were about to be in a friend's music video, both of them very into me and my creativity. Why, if I was single, I would have tried to figure out a way to test out the 'liberal attitudes' alluded to in the previous paragraph. Seriously. So there's the rub (or lack of rub). How can I be totally fulfilled in a sexual way, which I definitely am, yet still want to 'Go Dutch' as it were. It's a little microcosm of my skirt chaser history, and the fact that I had such a strong reaction to it, makes it feel 'blog-worthy'.
Because the first thing that happens is that I feel guilty about that attraction. Even though I didn't 'do' anything. In my mind, yeah, I'd do plenty, and that fantasy knowledge has always felt like a failure in some way, as if I'm 'supposed' to not be attracted out there. In the past, I would use that guilt as a (what's the word I'm looking for) justification, for the fact that I didn't deserve a relationship. I'm too much of a horn dog to be in a relationship. I want to fuck every good looking woman I see, how can I stay with one person? it's too compelling out there, adios... And along with that, 'how could I do this to the one who loves me? how would I feel if she had the same attitude? I couldn't take it. equals adios... it's less frightening to just forget about relationship and be 'free' to do what I want. Though of course the word 'free' is meant ironically, because it's a freedom based on something that feels the opposite of free. (one of those knots that RD Laing wrote about?)
Intellectually I know that 'guilt' is not the best response to feeling attracted, but I'm programmed somehow to go there first. I'd like to rewire that pattern, and I think I got a glimpse about how to approach it. There I am in bed with M, we just had a ridiculously great night of 'connection', and I'm now thinking about the Netherlands, lying in bed with my chinese/thai girlfriend, starting to feel guilty (in between fantasies, that is) So what if I can treat that little mind trip the same way that I've been treating the other mind trips that I do? Can I experience the feeling, really feel it, and then move on from it, rather than linger there and stew. When I started consciously thinking in those terms, there was an immediate relaxation of the guilt reflex, as if 'I'm on the right track'. So that's the plan for today and hopefully into the future. Feel it, don't judge it, have a look at it, and then let it go to see what pops up next (pun intended, can't help it).
Cut to commercial and then scenes from next week's episode... fade out....
Resolution du jour
No not a resolution as in 'I resolve to not eat meat', more a resolution about yesterday's dilemma. After I got clearer by writing in the blog about M's smoking/drinking, I went over to apologize to her for being judgmental. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was just being herself, including the fact that she's not hiding anything from me, not sneaking off for a smoke or a drink, just being who she is. So it was my turn to apologize, which I did.
But apparently I wasn't totally chilled out yet, because as I stepped outside to wait for her to go grab a coffee or something, I fuckin crushed the top of my head on the wall above her door. It's a little bitty doorway, 6 foot tall, just perfect for the tall farang to smash his dome on if he's not paying attention, and I really hit the corner square on. Nearly knocked me down, but what it did do was enrage me to where I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and hurled it across the room at the refrigerator, making it rain money and credit cards all over the room. Just a quick burst of rage and I was OK, but it shook her and she was scared was I going to hit her or something? Christ, what a child I can be sometimes.
So I said I guess I wasn't ready to hang out yet as I gathered up my stuff, loaded up my wallet and headed down the road. I had gone just a short distance when I heard her call out from behind me, and apparently I had missed a couple of items, my drivers license and visa card. Uh yeah, I could probably use that stuff, though on some level it would have served me right to show up somewhere, reach for my card and not find it. But I do have that burst of rage gene, typical of some of the members of my family (who shall remain nameless), that just needs to lash out when the button gets pushed. (But I've never hit a woman and I never will. so don't worry about that, sweetheart)
And it took me a few hours more with some reading, some writing and a swim thrown in before I was ready to back there and apologize again. I knocked on her door, no answer, knocked again, said 'are you home?', no answer.... saw the light of the TV on so I knew she was there, knocked a third time and the door opened, M silent, went back to the bed, lay down her body turned away from me. I hadn't realized that I had scared her in the previous encounter, but she doesn't really know me that well, and if she felt afraid for her safety, who could blame her. Of course I reassured her that I've never hit a woman and never would, and it didn't take us long to reconnect, but I was pretty lame and not the best of partners clearly.
However from there it was really nice, some dinner together at a street place that I like and who likes me. some soup at a neighboring street place, an ice cream from the 7-11, and then we were both pretty whipped. She had a bit of a fever and a sore neck, so we retired to my room where I worked on her for awhile (massage, that is) and she said, 'when did you study massage?'. I guess I did something right that day. It felt really good to have her head in my hands, to look down at her face and feel genuine warmth and connection, to take care of her, show her love and care, as she doesn't have a lot of that in her life. She took herself to the hospital for her appendectomy, took herself home, had a few people look in to help her, but did most of it on her own. Tough little character, and she is expressing some sadness and fear about when I leave, 'who is going to hug me and take care of me? Who going to make me laugh?'
Uh you could find somebody in about a minute if you wanted to... I say, and of course I hope that she doesn't. We still need to figure out the nature of what it is that we're doing here. Is it a great month in Asia, or something more? That does seem to be the question of the week.
Well since we got a great night's sleep last night on her day off.... in bed by 9pm instead of the usual 4am, I have some good energy going and am ready to get back on the creative train, see if I can come up with something new or finish something that is in the hopper. I've had a few days of low creativity, and that has been bringing up my self critical 'what the heck am I doing' voice. A voice that is only really quiet when I've got something musical going on. Though come on, dude, give it a rest. It's been an amazing spurt of music while here, and I've definitely stepped it up in my career. The other night in the bar, I got to play a set with this French guy who I had jammed with 3 weeks ago. He is a GREAT GUITARIST! in the Django Reinhart vein, knows a ton of swing tunes and plays ridiculous soloes if there is anyone who can keep up with him. Apparently, I'm the only one who can, as he just has to show me the tune one time and I can then join in. I interspersed a couple of my new tunes into the set, 'Happy Finnish Girls' is a certified hit and he's like 'whose song is this?' Uh right here, mon ami. Wow 'great song', and I also added 'Who grabbed your ass?' which is another old timey type thing that is a perfect bar song. The point being that maybe I can turn off the self criticism for a little while and just enjoy myself? Wow, novel concept...
But I probably can't so the second choice is to get back to work and make something happen. There is a gentle breeze blowing, it's cooled off a bit from the recent heat wave (I know I'll get a ton of sympathy from my friends in Boston and Chicago, right?), and I'm ready to get back on the horse. Speaking of which, M and I have a little joke, a bunch of them actually, but the one that comes to mind is when she calls me her Khao Soi Cowboy. Khao soi is the local delicacy, brown curry over chicken and local noodles (DELICIOUS). I ask her if she wants to be a cowgirl? Oh well, you get the picture? Speaking of which I need to get some pictures of her and me. I'll make that happen this week, otherwise it'll be too late. Happy today, haven't thrown one wallet or bashed my head once. Now as we approach her door, she'll tell me three times, 'be careful honey' then two second later, 'be careful honey'.
Did I mention that joke line from my Boom Boom song? Can't remember, and I'll be damned if I read through all these posts. The line is... 'I said it's the right time, she says it's delight time'. (just to check it out, I wrote 'the right time' on a piece of paper and asked M to read it. she said 'de light time') It's a joke that will get missed in the song, but I get it anyway. I guess that would be a triple entendre. (that no one will get but me... (sigh)
But apparently I wasn't totally chilled out yet, because as I stepped outside to wait for her to go grab a coffee or something, I fuckin crushed the top of my head on the wall above her door. It's a little bitty doorway, 6 foot tall, just perfect for the tall farang to smash his dome on if he's not paying attention, and I really hit the corner square on. Nearly knocked me down, but what it did do was enrage me to where I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and hurled it across the room at the refrigerator, making it rain money and credit cards all over the room. Just a quick burst of rage and I was OK, but it shook her and she was scared was I going to hit her or something? Christ, what a child I can be sometimes.
So I said I guess I wasn't ready to hang out yet as I gathered up my stuff, loaded up my wallet and headed down the road. I had gone just a short distance when I heard her call out from behind me, and apparently I had missed a couple of items, my drivers license and visa card. Uh yeah, I could probably use that stuff, though on some level it would have served me right to show up somewhere, reach for my card and not find it. But I do have that burst of rage gene, typical of some of the members of my family (who shall remain nameless), that just needs to lash out when the button gets pushed. (But I've never hit a woman and I never will. so don't worry about that, sweetheart)
And it took me a few hours more with some reading, some writing and a swim thrown in before I was ready to back there and apologize again. I knocked on her door, no answer, knocked again, said 'are you home?', no answer.... saw the light of the TV on so I knew she was there, knocked a third time and the door opened, M silent, went back to the bed, lay down her body turned away from me. I hadn't realized that I had scared her in the previous encounter, but she doesn't really know me that well, and if she felt afraid for her safety, who could blame her. Of course I reassured her that I've never hit a woman and never would, and it didn't take us long to reconnect, but I was pretty lame and not the best of partners clearly.
However from there it was really nice, some dinner together at a street place that I like and who likes me. some soup at a neighboring street place, an ice cream from the 7-11, and then we were both pretty whipped. She had a bit of a fever and a sore neck, so we retired to my room where I worked on her for awhile (massage, that is) and she said, 'when did you study massage?'. I guess I did something right that day. It felt really good to have her head in my hands, to look down at her face and feel genuine warmth and connection, to take care of her, show her love and care, as she doesn't have a lot of that in her life. She took herself to the hospital for her appendectomy, took herself home, had a few people look in to help her, but did most of it on her own. Tough little character, and she is expressing some sadness and fear about when I leave, 'who is going to hug me and take care of me? Who going to make me laugh?'
Uh you could find somebody in about a minute if you wanted to... I say, and of course I hope that she doesn't. We still need to figure out the nature of what it is that we're doing here. Is it a great month in Asia, or something more? That does seem to be the question of the week.
Well since we got a great night's sleep last night on her day off.... in bed by 9pm instead of the usual 4am, I have some good energy going and am ready to get back on the creative train, see if I can come up with something new or finish something that is in the hopper. I've had a few days of low creativity, and that has been bringing up my self critical 'what the heck am I doing' voice. A voice that is only really quiet when I've got something musical going on. Though come on, dude, give it a rest. It's been an amazing spurt of music while here, and I've definitely stepped it up in my career. The other night in the bar, I got to play a set with this French guy who I had jammed with 3 weeks ago. He is a GREAT GUITARIST! in the Django Reinhart vein, knows a ton of swing tunes and plays ridiculous soloes if there is anyone who can keep up with him. Apparently, I'm the only one who can, as he just has to show me the tune one time and I can then join in. I interspersed a couple of my new tunes into the set, 'Happy Finnish Girls' is a certified hit and he's like 'whose song is this?' Uh right here, mon ami. Wow 'great song', and I also added 'Who grabbed your ass?' which is another old timey type thing that is a perfect bar song. The point being that maybe I can turn off the self criticism for a little while and just enjoy myself? Wow, novel concept...
But I probably can't so the second choice is to get back to work and make something happen. There is a gentle breeze blowing, it's cooled off a bit from the recent heat wave (I know I'll get a ton of sympathy from my friends in Boston and Chicago, right?), and I'm ready to get back on the horse. Speaking of which, M and I have a little joke, a bunch of them actually, but the one that comes to mind is when she calls me her Khao Soi Cowboy. Khao soi is the local delicacy, brown curry over chicken and local noodles (DELICIOUS). I ask her if she wants to be a cowgirl? Oh well, you get the picture? Speaking of which I need to get some pictures of her and me. I'll make that happen this week, otherwise it'll be too late. Happy today, haven't thrown one wallet or bashed my head once. Now as we approach her door, she'll tell me three times, 'be careful honey' then two second later, 'be careful honey'.
Did I mention that joke line from my Boom Boom song? Can't remember, and I'll be damned if I read through all these posts. The line is... 'I said it's the right time, she says it's delight time'. (just to check it out, I wrote 'the right time' on a piece of paper and asked M to read it. she said 'de light time') It's a joke that will get missed in the song, but I get it anyway. I guess that would be a triple entendre. (that no one will get but me... (sigh)
Deal Breaker?
Well here is a post that I'm not looking forward to embarking on. I'm pretty stressed just sitting here, feeling the resistance to giving words to what I'm experiencing. I'm feeling pissed off, judgmental, frustrated, self-critical here at the gate. I want to use the word 'fuck' in a lot of my sentences, always a sure sign that something is fucking not right.
It's the alcohol and tobacco piece, not to mention the late nights, not to mention the mini skirt outfit that made her look like one of 'those' girls as I walked her home this morning after a less than stellar night together. It's a clash to be sure, and as much as I'm pissed off at M for smoking and drinking, I'm equally curious as to my reactions and judgments, which is really what it's about. But I'm feeling them big time, so why not try and process a bit and see where it leads.
In general, if I see a good looking woman, and then she reaches for a cigarette, I have an instant aversion, and an immediate sense that 'that's not for me'. It's such a fucking gross habit, who wants to kiss an ashtray, let alone the stupidity of subjecting one's lungs to that kind of abuse. Yeah I know that it's an addiction and hard to quit, but people who want to quit can do it, but you have to want to.
When she and I hang out on her day off, she'll have a couple or three cigarettes and nothing to drink, and she's lovely, and a delight to be with. But then put her into the bar setting where people are buying her drinks, or even if they're not, she tends to drink over the course of the night 4 large beers, sipped over ice, not enough to get hammered, but it loosens her up, helps her smile and entertain the customers, who all adore her. And she'll usually have a sweet wine cooler type thing or two at the end of the night. And of course, once you're into the alcohol, it's that much easier to smoke and smoke, which she does while working. Probably just under a pack over the course of a shift (not that I'm counting, of course)
and every time I see her light up, or pour herself the next drink I have a negative reaction to it, as if I have some kind of proprietary ownership there, and her actions are not in line with my desires. I do try to understand and separate myself from that judgment, but without much success. It rankles every time to see the woman who I really care for drink and smoke all through her shift. This aside from her fending off advances from guys, being groped (appropriately usually), come on to, invited home etc.
It's a fine line that she has to walk as a server, she needs to be very friendly, she makes physical contact, a hand on the shoulder, a hug for the regulars, an inviting smile for the newcomers, it's business and there are a ton of bars in this town and you have to make people want to come to your place. So that kind of comes with the teritory, and she's great at it. But of course there is the inevitable staring at her and lusting after her on the part of some people, and that's not something I want to see either. Yecchh...
Last night it came to a head for me, as she asked me for 100 baht ($3.25 at the beginning of her shift cause she only had 10 baht in her pocket. I wasn't sure what it was for, maybe food later, but then when I saw her drinking and smoking, I just got fucking pissed offfff, 'no, I'm not going to fund your addictions, I don't support that at all!' is what I was thinking to myself as I got progressively more angry. And it brought up heavy duty judgment on my part that goes like this.
She owes some money to a couple of her friends, largely a result of an appendectomy she had a year ago which put her out of action for a couple of months. She needed to borrow some money to stay afloat, and she's been paying it back a little per month to where it's now down to like $100 total. (which is more than it would be in the states, trust me). Meanwhile, she is spending probably $30-40 per week on alcohol and smokes, she uses her tip money for food and vices, and that just pisses me off on some kind of New York Jew 'fiscal responsibility' level. Look you owe this money out there, it makes for an imbalance, you need to pay it off, but instead you use it on crap that hurts you, that pisses me off and that doesn't solve the imbalance. So if you're not an alcoholic, as you claim, then why are you treading water, not clearing your debts but instead needing to cadge a hundred baht from your boyfriend because you have no money. Oh yes friends, 'heavy judgment' on my part.
And as I write it, I'm still feeling the righteous indignation (which I don't enjoy, by the way), but I guess I need to feel it in order to describe the scenario. It's one of those places in my brain that are pretty strongly wired, and if I were a good little Buddhist, I'd find a way to feel it.... and then move the fuck on. The Dalai Lama might describe it slightly differently, but that's what I need to do. See my reaction, feel it, then breathe and let it go. As I do that this minute, it starts dissolving into a few tears and a shudder, which means, ah yes, this is the correct way to go. maybe another breath would be in order.... more tears and release, ah this is good. (but I won't start crying, as the Thai woman at the computer to my left might get alarmed) Ok maybe one more breath now.... and I can finally start to see M and understand what she has been trying to tell me vis a vis smoking and drinking.
From the time she was little, she had no freedom within her family. She had to wake up at 3 in the morning to work with the family, preparing food to sell in the market. As she got older and she wanted to go to school (which her parents wouldn't pay for), she would wake up at 3, work for the family until 7:30, then go to her money job, and then in the evening go to her classes. It was a fucking 20 hour day often, so of course she was exhausted, but this is how she drove herself. 'It make me very strong'.
She invokes that lack of freedom as the explanation for why she drinks and smokes if she wants to drink and smoke. She never had the freedom to do what she wanted growing up, and now that she's an adult, she does what she wants. She also talks about being lonely, both her parents are gone and she feels like she has no real family, except for one of her sisters (who she worries about). She says that alcohol and a cigarette are like her friends, they help her relax and not feel so alone. They help her feel comfortable in the bar, able to interact more easily with her customers.
Ok, I'm kinda over myself, and I can see things from a more balanced perspective. I don't like the part of myself that gets self-righteous, but it's hard not to, when I have such an instantaneous reaction to seeing my lover hit the smokes and the bottles. So I guess the best solution for this last week in Thailand is to limit my exposure to the bar scene, let her have that space free from my judgmental eye. I did promise to help a friend with a Tuesday night set, and of course I'll honor that, but it's time to steer clear of that environment. (especially toward the end of the night when the real drunks are closing the place down and it's kind of a sad scenario, at least to this judgmental new yorker. (Yeah, even though I've been in Eugene close to 30 years, I feel like an east coaster in my reactions) What up with that?
Meanwhile I got some great news from Oregon, in that I was selected as one of the top 5 favorite library performers around the state, which just opened up an unexpected windfall of 15 summer gigs as there is a big organization which is underwriting a bunch of shows for smaller libraries, and I was invited to be one of the presenters. It comes at a good time, and I'm especially pleased because I kind of blew my most recent 5 minute showcase in Salem, so I was afraid that my summer might be kind of slow. Nice to get the recognition from my work over the years and a bunch of unexpected gigs to fill into the summer schedule. (gratitude about that)
Glad I sat down to try and deal with my judgment issues, and once again, it comes back to that notion of feeling it, and then separating from it, rather than being ruled by it. A little self healing... (and yeah, I still want her to not smoke and drink, but it's not tearing me up like it was an hour ago)
Out...
It's the alcohol and tobacco piece, not to mention the late nights, not to mention the mini skirt outfit that made her look like one of 'those' girls as I walked her home this morning after a less than stellar night together. It's a clash to be sure, and as much as I'm pissed off at M for smoking and drinking, I'm equally curious as to my reactions and judgments, which is really what it's about. But I'm feeling them big time, so why not try and process a bit and see where it leads.
In general, if I see a good looking woman, and then she reaches for a cigarette, I have an instant aversion, and an immediate sense that 'that's not for me'. It's such a fucking gross habit, who wants to kiss an ashtray, let alone the stupidity of subjecting one's lungs to that kind of abuse. Yeah I know that it's an addiction and hard to quit, but people who want to quit can do it, but you have to want to.
When she and I hang out on her day off, she'll have a couple or three cigarettes and nothing to drink, and she's lovely, and a delight to be with. But then put her into the bar setting where people are buying her drinks, or even if they're not, she tends to drink over the course of the night 4 large beers, sipped over ice, not enough to get hammered, but it loosens her up, helps her smile and entertain the customers, who all adore her. And she'll usually have a sweet wine cooler type thing or two at the end of the night. And of course, once you're into the alcohol, it's that much easier to smoke and smoke, which she does while working. Probably just under a pack over the course of a shift (not that I'm counting, of course)
and every time I see her light up, or pour herself the next drink I have a negative reaction to it, as if I have some kind of proprietary ownership there, and her actions are not in line with my desires. I do try to understand and separate myself from that judgment, but without much success. It rankles every time to see the woman who I really care for drink and smoke all through her shift. This aside from her fending off advances from guys, being groped (appropriately usually), come on to, invited home etc.
It's a fine line that she has to walk as a server, she needs to be very friendly, she makes physical contact, a hand on the shoulder, a hug for the regulars, an inviting smile for the newcomers, it's business and there are a ton of bars in this town and you have to make people want to come to your place. So that kind of comes with the teritory, and she's great at it. But of course there is the inevitable staring at her and lusting after her on the part of some people, and that's not something I want to see either. Yecchh...
Last night it came to a head for me, as she asked me for 100 baht ($3.25 at the beginning of her shift cause she only had 10 baht in her pocket. I wasn't sure what it was for, maybe food later, but then when I saw her drinking and smoking, I just got fucking pissed offfff, 'no, I'm not going to fund your addictions, I don't support that at all!' is what I was thinking to myself as I got progressively more angry. And it brought up heavy duty judgment on my part that goes like this.
She owes some money to a couple of her friends, largely a result of an appendectomy she had a year ago which put her out of action for a couple of months. She needed to borrow some money to stay afloat, and she's been paying it back a little per month to where it's now down to like $100 total. (which is more than it would be in the states, trust me). Meanwhile, she is spending probably $30-40 per week on alcohol and smokes, she uses her tip money for food and vices, and that just pisses me off on some kind of New York Jew 'fiscal responsibility' level. Look you owe this money out there, it makes for an imbalance, you need to pay it off, but instead you use it on crap that hurts you, that pisses me off and that doesn't solve the imbalance. So if you're not an alcoholic, as you claim, then why are you treading water, not clearing your debts but instead needing to cadge a hundred baht from your boyfriend because you have no money. Oh yes friends, 'heavy judgment' on my part.
And as I write it, I'm still feeling the righteous indignation (which I don't enjoy, by the way), but I guess I need to feel it in order to describe the scenario. It's one of those places in my brain that are pretty strongly wired, and if I were a good little Buddhist, I'd find a way to feel it.... and then move the fuck on. The Dalai Lama might describe it slightly differently, but that's what I need to do. See my reaction, feel it, then breathe and let it go. As I do that this minute, it starts dissolving into a few tears and a shudder, which means, ah yes, this is the correct way to go. maybe another breath would be in order.... more tears and release, ah this is good. (but I won't start crying, as the Thai woman at the computer to my left might get alarmed) Ok maybe one more breath now.... and I can finally start to see M and understand what she has been trying to tell me vis a vis smoking and drinking.
From the time she was little, she had no freedom within her family. She had to wake up at 3 in the morning to work with the family, preparing food to sell in the market. As she got older and she wanted to go to school (which her parents wouldn't pay for), she would wake up at 3, work for the family until 7:30, then go to her money job, and then in the evening go to her classes. It was a fucking 20 hour day often, so of course she was exhausted, but this is how she drove herself. 'It make me very strong'.
She invokes that lack of freedom as the explanation for why she drinks and smokes if she wants to drink and smoke. She never had the freedom to do what she wanted growing up, and now that she's an adult, she does what she wants. She also talks about being lonely, both her parents are gone and she feels like she has no real family, except for one of her sisters (who she worries about). She says that alcohol and a cigarette are like her friends, they help her relax and not feel so alone. They help her feel comfortable in the bar, able to interact more easily with her customers.
Ok, I'm kinda over myself, and I can see things from a more balanced perspective. I don't like the part of myself that gets self-righteous, but it's hard not to, when I have such an instantaneous reaction to seeing my lover hit the smokes and the bottles. So I guess the best solution for this last week in Thailand is to limit my exposure to the bar scene, let her have that space free from my judgmental eye. I did promise to help a friend with a Tuesday night set, and of course I'll honor that, but it's time to steer clear of that environment. (especially toward the end of the night when the real drunks are closing the place down and it's kind of a sad scenario, at least to this judgmental new yorker. (Yeah, even though I've been in Eugene close to 30 years, I feel like an east coaster in my reactions) What up with that?
Meanwhile I got some great news from Oregon, in that I was selected as one of the top 5 favorite library performers around the state, which just opened up an unexpected windfall of 15 summer gigs as there is a big organization which is underwriting a bunch of shows for smaller libraries, and I was invited to be one of the presenters. It comes at a good time, and I'm especially pleased because I kind of blew my most recent 5 minute showcase in Salem, so I was afraid that my summer might be kind of slow. Nice to get the recognition from my work over the years and a bunch of unexpected gigs to fill into the summer schedule. (gratitude about that)
Glad I sat down to try and deal with my judgment issues, and once again, it comes back to that notion of feeling it, and then separating from it, rather than being ruled by it. A little self healing... (and yeah, I still want her to not smoke and drink, but it's not tearing me up like it was an hour ago)
Out...
Under the full moon
Makha Bukha is the name of the full moon festival which was celebrated last night in Thailand, Laos and Cambodia, a remembrance of a time 2500 years ago when 1250 of the Buddha's followers spontaneously paid him a visit during the full moon. The bars were closed here (for the most part), which means that M had a night off and we were able to go and celebrate the holiday with the community. And it was amazing.
The day actually broke overcast, which is unusual, as every other day lately has been sunny and hot. The cloud cover was a nice change of pace, but I wondered if we'd get a glimpse of the moon later that night. We had a really nice day together, relaxed, watched a movie on her TV, ate and snoozed, and then shortly after sunset, we walked to one of the famous temples in Chiang Mai. (don't have the name, sorry)
I had seen this temple before, had entered it even, without realizing that directly behind it, was an ancient temple (750 years old) that was the real marker for this site. And that is where the festival was celebrated. People gathered by the hundreds and likely thousands, and each of us purchased a little garland of flowers from one of the booths that had been hastily set up on the street near the temple. Along with the flowers came a candle and three sticks of incense. (20 baht, 66 cents for those who like to know what things cost). M said we should each buy our own, as we need to make our own offering to the Buddha.
And then we walked past the first temple and Wow, how had I never seen the old one? It was incredible, not in use anymore due to the ravages of time, but a commanding, impressive structue, very high in the sky, surrounded by a series of retaining walls, atop which were life size sculptures of elephants. On each of the 4 sides was a central staircase which led up and up into the temple. It was the opposite of 'wheelchair accessible'.
The ritual for the holiday involves circling the temple three times, hands in prayer position and carrying the offering. We walked in silence, meditating on doing good, doing right, cleaning our karma. I asked M about it after the first circle, and that's what she told me. It's about karma and doing good.
As we walked, you could hear the sounds of the large temple bells, which were being rung by the kids as they walked with their parents. Around the back of the temple, a musician was singing devotional songs into a microphone, interjecting 'Kobkudn krop' (thank you) as people made offerings. On the second circle, the moon broke through the clouds, bathing everyone in its light, and between the bells, the music, the warm air, the circling people, the flowers and incense, it was beyond lovely. Just a holy beautiful scene, and I prayed along with the rest of the populace. Mmmmm
After the third circle, we took off our shoes and entered the place where we got on our knees, lit the candles and placed them on the altar. There was a nearby place for the flower and incense offerings too. Then bow three times, head to the ground, a final nod to the Buddha and then rise.
M said that there was one more part to the ceremony, so we made our way to the newer temple, removed our shoes again and entered. Many statues and likenesses of the Buddha in this shrine as we got on our knees and bowed our head to the ground three times. A monk was talking into the microphone, and M said he was speaking about being clean and doing good. On the left of the hall, a group of monks were accepting monetary donations, so we lined up, made the offering, hands in prayer position, and they offered us a white woven bracelet along with a golden Buddha medallion. Really nice token and I will cherish it as a memento of an incredible evening. M and I tied each other's bracelets on, and she is extremely pleased that we got to celebrate this together.... as am I. I'm not much of a jewelry guy, but I like looking down to my right wrist and seeing a simple woven bracelet tied there.
Feeling clean this morning, doing good...
The day actually broke overcast, which is unusual, as every other day lately has been sunny and hot. The cloud cover was a nice change of pace, but I wondered if we'd get a glimpse of the moon later that night. We had a really nice day together, relaxed, watched a movie on her TV, ate and snoozed, and then shortly after sunset, we walked to one of the famous temples in Chiang Mai. (don't have the name, sorry)
I had seen this temple before, had entered it even, without realizing that directly behind it, was an ancient temple (750 years old) that was the real marker for this site. And that is where the festival was celebrated. People gathered by the hundreds and likely thousands, and each of us purchased a little garland of flowers from one of the booths that had been hastily set up on the street near the temple. Along with the flowers came a candle and three sticks of incense. (20 baht, 66 cents for those who like to know what things cost). M said we should each buy our own, as we need to make our own offering to the Buddha.
And then we walked past the first temple and Wow, how had I never seen the old one? It was incredible, not in use anymore due to the ravages of time, but a commanding, impressive structue, very high in the sky, surrounded by a series of retaining walls, atop which were life size sculptures of elephants. On each of the 4 sides was a central staircase which led up and up into the temple. It was the opposite of 'wheelchair accessible'.
The ritual for the holiday involves circling the temple three times, hands in prayer position and carrying the offering. We walked in silence, meditating on doing good, doing right, cleaning our karma. I asked M about it after the first circle, and that's what she told me. It's about karma and doing good.
As we walked, you could hear the sounds of the large temple bells, which were being rung by the kids as they walked with their parents. Around the back of the temple, a musician was singing devotional songs into a microphone, interjecting 'Kobkudn krop' (thank you) as people made offerings. On the second circle, the moon broke through the clouds, bathing everyone in its light, and between the bells, the music, the warm air, the circling people, the flowers and incense, it was beyond lovely. Just a holy beautiful scene, and I prayed along with the rest of the populace. Mmmmm
After the third circle, we took off our shoes and entered the place where we got on our knees, lit the candles and placed them on the altar. There was a nearby place for the flower and incense offerings too. Then bow three times, head to the ground, a final nod to the Buddha and then rise.
M said that there was one more part to the ceremony, so we made our way to the newer temple, removed our shoes again and entered. Many statues and likenesses of the Buddha in this shrine as we got on our knees and bowed our head to the ground three times. A monk was talking into the microphone, and M said he was speaking about being clean and doing good. On the left of the hall, a group of monks were accepting monetary donations, so we lined up, made the offering, hands in prayer position, and they offered us a white woven bracelet along with a golden Buddha medallion. Really nice token and I will cherish it as a memento of an incredible evening. M and I tied each other's bracelets on, and she is extremely pleased that we got to celebrate this together.... as am I. I'm not much of a jewelry guy, but I like looking down to my right wrist and seeing a simple woven bracelet tied there.
Feeling clean this morning, doing good...
Nothing to say and it's OK....
Good morning good morning. I'm sure my blog has become quite boring now, as the lack of mobility has perhaps engendered a lack of creativity (or at least the lack of a need to process). These days it's about a person, one who is in love with me, and I honestly don't know how to feel about that. so many conflicting emotions in that juxtaposition, and no, for once I'm not inclined to follow that word with 'and that's 'just the position' I'm hoping to be in. Although I did, but if I say I didn't want to do it, that must count for something. see what I mean about 'boring')
I tend toward needing to 'justify' my time here. Until now, the fact that I've been very productive on the creativity level has been my answer for 'what the hell am I dong in SE Asia'? I'm on a writers retreat, I could state confidently, and it's been true. I've put in more consistent hours writing and composing in this period of time that ever before, with great results (I"m hoping). But what happens when the well dries up, like yesterday when I had nothin'. Made a feeble attempt at a new song, which was a non-starter. Then what am I doing? Er uh hanging out, being a stud? (uh yes, as it turns out) But is that enough? No, selfish boy, it's not enough, if it's just about you.
So my brain is taking a turn to consider this lovely person who wants to spend her nights with me. (I tease her that it's because of the hot shower in my room and she's starting to make that joke too, but it's obviously way more than that.... for her). And for me, damn, I think it is too. You can't make all this love, spend all this time, get to really know and care about someone and watch them fall in love with you.... without asking yourself a bunch of questions. Notice that I keep saying that 'she is falling in love with me', rather than the reverse. (I'm sure you all noticed that). Well hell, I've 'fallen in love' so many times that I'm super gun shy about using those words, as there is a fairly substantial amount of shame attached to the fact that it's never quite worked out that way. Or as I goof on myself 'it's either a tremendous run of coincidences, or maybe it's me?' Ha ha, but probably not really that funny, particularly when I can affect another person and cause them pain.
Hmmm that idea keeps coming up, so it's likely the theme of this post. It's not all about me, and to think so is simply misguided. (this is one of the things I love best about writing, the idea that I don't really know what's going to happen when I sit down and try to open up a vein.... it just kinda flows out and then things emerge which I hadn't planned on. the inner camino?)
I just flashed on the Martin Buber notion of 'I and Thou' as opposed to I and it. I'm not super attuned to the concept, but my understanding is that it's about treating the other person as a highly respected being, equal in importance to yourself. And that feels very very right in this case. It goes deeper and truer than any kind of conditioning I've accumulated over the years that says, 'I'm a certain way and my relationships all have a particular arc' or that says, 'Thai women are a certain way, and they are trying to hook a Farang for economic stability'. Or that says, 'it's impossible to fall in love and then keep something together from around the world'. There is a lot of 'noise' that seems to come in these days, and a lot of it is fairly destructive to the I Thou relationship.
M is such a unique person, and she's my teacher in some way. I know this. We've been having an incredible time the past week, in spite of the crazy hours, in spite of the cultural differences, in spite of the fact that she's 5 feet and maybe a hundred pounds and we likely look comical holding hands walking down the street. All those things are part of the distraction. There is something about our connection that is holy and a total gift. And it feels healing to focus there instead of on the tried and true mind patterns that lead to expected outcomes. It's like the guy who keeps telling the same stories over and over. Does anybody really want to hear them. Does the teller? Really? Not likely.
I know that I'm thirsting for new patterns, a new way of looking and hearing and feeling, so God Bless this person who has been my partner in the walk. Feeling humbled and grateful and good...
Funny that I called this post, 'nothing to say and it's ok' If I had to re-title it, I'd go with 'I Thou'
I tend toward needing to 'justify' my time here. Until now, the fact that I've been very productive on the creativity level has been my answer for 'what the hell am I dong in SE Asia'? I'm on a writers retreat, I could state confidently, and it's been true. I've put in more consistent hours writing and composing in this period of time that ever before, with great results (I"m hoping). But what happens when the well dries up, like yesterday when I had nothin'. Made a feeble attempt at a new song, which was a non-starter. Then what am I doing? Er uh hanging out, being a stud? (uh yes, as it turns out) But is that enough? No, selfish boy, it's not enough, if it's just about you.
So my brain is taking a turn to consider this lovely person who wants to spend her nights with me. (I tease her that it's because of the hot shower in my room and she's starting to make that joke too, but it's obviously way more than that.... for her). And for me, damn, I think it is too. You can't make all this love, spend all this time, get to really know and care about someone and watch them fall in love with you.... without asking yourself a bunch of questions. Notice that I keep saying that 'she is falling in love with me', rather than the reverse. (I'm sure you all noticed that). Well hell, I've 'fallen in love' so many times that I'm super gun shy about using those words, as there is a fairly substantial amount of shame attached to the fact that it's never quite worked out that way. Or as I goof on myself 'it's either a tremendous run of coincidences, or maybe it's me?' Ha ha, but probably not really that funny, particularly when I can affect another person and cause them pain.
Hmmm that idea keeps coming up, so it's likely the theme of this post. It's not all about me, and to think so is simply misguided. (this is one of the things I love best about writing, the idea that I don't really know what's going to happen when I sit down and try to open up a vein.... it just kinda flows out and then things emerge which I hadn't planned on. the inner camino?)
I just flashed on the Martin Buber notion of 'I and Thou' as opposed to I and it. I'm not super attuned to the concept, but my understanding is that it's about treating the other person as a highly respected being, equal in importance to yourself. And that feels very very right in this case. It goes deeper and truer than any kind of conditioning I've accumulated over the years that says, 'I'm a certain way and my relationships all have a particular arc' or that says, 'Thai women are a certain way, and they are trying to hook a Farang for economic stability'. Or that says, 'it's impossible to fall in love and then keep something together from around the world'. There is a lot of 'noise' that seems to come in these days, and a lot of it is fairly destructive to the I Thou relationship.
M is such a unique person, and she's my teacher in some way. I know this. We've been having an incredible time the past week, in spite of the crazy hours, in spite of the cultural differences, in spite of the fact that she's 5 feet and maybe a hundred pounds and we likely look comical holding hands walking down the street. All those things are part of the distraction. There is something about our connection that is holy and a total gift. And it feels healing to focus there instead of on the tried and true mind patterns that lead to expected outcomes. It's like the guy who keeps telling the same stories over and over. Does anybody really want to hear them. Does the teller? Really? Not likely.
I know that I'm thirsting for new patterns, a new way of looking and hearing and feeling, so God Bless this person who has been my partner in the walk. Feeling humbled and grateful and good...
Funny that I called this post, 'nothing to say and it's ok' If I had to re-title it, I'd go with 'I Thou'
Stress Test....
You mean, I can't just continue to hang out in Chiang Mai, eating Thai food, writing songs, swimming at the pool at the Guest House, enjoying the pleasures of the senses? I made my first foray into planning for my return to the states, and it stressed me out way more than anything I've experienced since I've been on the road. Guess I'm getting soft.... or at least my brain must have been a bit soft, because when I checked the itinerary, it wasn't what I was expecting. I had set up a ride home from the Portland Airport on Sunday afternoon, but fuckin' A, I'm landing on Monday instead, right in time for the rush hous, which is a large drag. Don't know if Jenni is available to drive the following day, and I need to get back to Eugene ASAP as I'm presenting at a huge conference at 8am the following day. (Good planning there, Rich!)
And there was more. When I saw that I was arriving in Hong Kong at 10:45 pm, and then flying to LA from there at 1:20pm.... Wait a minute, it should be 1am, right? (he asked with a rising sense of 'oh shit, what did I do?'.... Yep, I missed it when I chose the itinerary from Priceline. I thought I had a great connection back home, nice 2 and a half hour layover in China, then back on the plane. But no, I've given myself an all-nighter at the Kowloon airport, 15 hours before I fly to LA. That should help the jet lag really take hold. Then a 4 hour layover in LA and finally a flight to Portland, and hopefully a ride through the rush hour back to Eugene.... where I present a couple of huge workshops that can make or mar my economy for the next year.... Yep, just a bit stressed out.
It was a little bolt of nerves, nothing unusual, but for the fact that I've been about as chill as ever since I've been in Asia, so it was like a bucket of ice water waking me up out of a deep sleep. Got a little adrenaline going there for a few minutes. Now, I'm settling into a place of, 'hey, whatever happens', which is more in keeping with the traveler mentality.
I'm sure that part of the stress level is about saying goodbye to M in fairly short order. When you spend all your nights with someone, when there's a great 'connection', all kinds of emotions and thoughts enter the picture which aren't normally part of the landscape. What is my responsibility here? That's high up the list, and as I write it, it feels very charged with import, as if that 'responsibility' piece colors a lot of my interactions with women.... often in a deleterious way. I've had this theme over the years where I feel like I'm 'supposed to' be a certain way vis a vis relationship. I'm supposed to have sex so many times per week. Supposed to not be interested in other women, supposed to be all kinds of shit that I instinctively rebel against. I often will assume that my partner has these expectations of me, even if she doesn't... it's a script that I play out on my own sometimes, with predictably lousy results. (Make a note, Rich, theres' likely a 'Supposed to...' song that could be worked on... (either that or a few therapy sessions, but I digress)
Back to M, I have a lot of love and compassion for her (along with the lust, people). She's had a really tough road in life, and it's amazing that she's as resilient and positive as she is. She is among the most honest people I've ever met. I feel for her getting involved with me, having it be really beautiful and meaningful, and then I'm off on a plane to Oregon, and then what? It's hard to give your heart like that. She is tired of having different relationships and would love to have someone to take care of her. And in saying that, she wants to take care of her partner in the same way, a real relationship. She is on her own, hand to mouth, and questions sometimes, 'what's wrong with me'. And she's so strong in her work ethic. The comment I've heard more from her lips than any other is 'I have to work'. She is amazing at what she does, you couldn't have a better employee if you owned a business. Worker bee.
Sure I'd love the fantasy of me being the guy who finds true love, good partnership, John and Yoko energy, being fulfilled with a partner and a life. But along with the fantasy is that voice that goes, 'Come on, Rich, be real. You know who you are, which is a ladies man. It's even a longshot that you came back here at all, as you've been checking out the women wherever you go. True love shmue love, you're having great sex and you're seeing the world through rose colored glasses. Don't be a fool, don't commit to something that you won't deliver....
And the two voices have been doing that dance for a long time now. They know eachother's moves, for the most part. And as far as 'responsibility' goes, I guess the answer is to be responsible enough to be as truthful as possible to the process and the communication. It's the only way to learn what this story is here to teach. Because if feels big. Feels like the next stage of my life is going to unfold in this part of the world. I'm not ready to move here now: I'm not quite done with my life in Oregon just yet, but it feels awfully close.
And there was more. When I saw that I was arriving in Hong Kong at 10:45 pm, and then flying to LA from there at 1:20pm.... Wait a minute, it should be 1am, right? (he asked with a rising sense of 'oh shit, what did I do?'.... Yep, I missed it when I chose the itinerary from Priceline. I thought I had a great connection back home, nice 2 and a half hour layover in China, then back on the plane. But no, I've given myself an all-nighter at the Kowloon airport, 15 hours before I fly to LA. That should help the jet lag really take hold. Then a 4 hour layover in LA and finally a flight to Portland, and hopefully a ride through the rush hour back to Eugene.... where I present a couple of huge workshops that can make or mar my economy for the next year.... Yep, just a bit stressed out.
It was a little bolt of nerves, nothing unusual, but for the fact that I've been about as chill as ever since I've been in Asia, so it was like a bucket of ice water waking me up out of a deep sleep. Got a little adrenaline going there for a few minutes. Now, I'm settling into a place of, 'hey, whatever happens', which is more in keeping with the traveler mentality.
I'm sure that part of the stress level is about saying goodbye to M in fairly short order. When you spend all your nights with someone, when there's a great 'connection', all kinds of emotions and thoughts enter the picture which aren't normally part of the landscape. What is my responsibility here? That's high up the list, and as I write it, it feels very charged with import, as if that 'responsibility' piece colors a lot of my interactions with women.... often in a deleterious way. I've had this theme over the years where I feel like I'm 'supposed to' be a certain way vis a vis relationship. I'm supposed to have sex so many times per week. Supposed to not be interested in other women, supposed to be all kinds of shit that I instinctively rebel against. I often will assume that my partner has these expectations of me, even if she doesn't... it's a script that I play out on my own sometimes, with predictably lousy results. (Make a note, Rich, theres' likely a 'Supposed to...' song that could be worked on... (either that or a few therapy sessions, but I digress)
Back to M, I have a lot of love and compassion for her (along with the lust, people). She's had a really tough road in life, and it's amazing that she's as resilient and positive as she is. She is among the most honest people I've ever met. I feel for her getting involved with me, having it be really beautiful and meaningful, and then I'm off on a plane to Oregon, and then what? It's hard to give your heart like that. She is tired of having different relationships and would love to have someone to take care of her. And in saying that, she wants to take care of her partner in the same way, a real relationship. She is on her own, hand to mouth, and questions sometimes, 'what's wrong with me'. And she's so strong in her work ethic. The comment I've heard more from her lips than any other is 'I have to work'. She is amazing at what she does, you couldn't have a better employee if you owned a business. Worker bee.
Sure I'd love the fantasy of me being the guy who finds true love, good partnership, John and Yoko energy, being fulfilled with a partner and a life. But along with the fantasy is that voice that goes, 'Come on, Rich, be real. You know who you are, which is a ladies man. It's even a longshot that you came back here at all, as you've been checking out the women wherever you go. True love shmue love, you're having great sex and you're seeing the world through rose colored glasses. Don't be a fool, don't commit to something that you won't deliver....
And the two voices have been doing that dance for a long time now. They know eachother's moves, for the most part. And as far as 'responsibility' goes, I guess the answer is to be responsible enough to be as truthful as possible to the process and the communication. It's the only way to learn what this story is here to teach. Because if feels big. Feels like the next stage of my life is going to unfold in this part of the world. I'm not ready to move here now: I'm not quite done with my life in Oregon just yet, but it feels awfully close.
All I want this holiday is you (song)
I don't need a flower
I don't need a sign
You don't have to ask me
Would I be your valentine
But to have you love me
Just the way you do...
All I want this holiday is you
I don't need a stocking
Hanging by the tree
You don't have to promise
That one day you'll marry me
But to know your loving arms
And that your heart is true
All I want this holiday is you
Leaves twirling to the ground
Seasons round and round
We're in the hourglass of time
Winter is cold and rain
Summer come sun again
To make the sweetest berries on the vine
I don't need a birthday card
Sure don't need a cake
There's no finer present
Than to see you when I wake
And to hold you close to me
When the day is through
All I want this holiday is you
I don't need a sign
You don't have to ask me
Would I be your valentine
But to have you love me
Just the way you do...
All I want this holiday is you
I don't need a stocking
Hanging by the tree
You don't have to promise
That one day you'll marry me
But to know your loving arms
And that your heart is true
All I want this holiday is you
Leaves twirling to the ground
Seasons round and round
We're in the hourglass of time
Winter is cold and rain
Summer come sun again
To make the sweetest berries on the vine
I don't need a birthday card
Sure don't need a cake
There's no finer present
Than to see you when I wake
And to hold you close to me
When the day is through
All I want this holiday is you
Assumptions....
Wow, sometimes you think you're gonna write about one thing, and then bam, something happens and you have to write about the other thing. In this case, I got a real strong negative FB message this morning, from a friend I know who lives in SE Asia, in which he chided me for being naive, in danger, and basically stupid for being involved with a local woman. He assumed that I was hangin' and bangin' (my term) with a local 21 year old 'informal sex worker', who is basically one of the unemployed women who hang out in the bars and try to connect with sugar daddies from abroad. It's a booming business, clearly, and there are boatloads of tourists whose mission seems to be to screw as many women as possible before heading home to Brighton or Helsinki or Davenport Iowa. I've heard a bunch of stories, most of them ending badly, about guys who get taken in by that perfume and end up hooked into something that costs them a bunch of money and heartache. And my friend was putting me into that group. Yikes!
So it was like a cold shower this morning to be greeted by that bit of accusation, particularly after spending a very loving night with M, another very loving night actually. Ever since I've been back in town, 5 days now, it's been soul satisfying stuff, great connection, a lot of open heart energy, even with the knowledge that I need to be on a plane out of Bangkok on Feb 26. There is a tiny bit of dread about that parting, coming from both of us, but that's just part of the mix, and we'll have to see about it when it actually happens.
Me, I've said goodbye to many many women over the years, after good times and bad, so there is a certain inevitability to it. I can remember some of the hardest ones, when my heart is breaking and there's nothing to do but cry. One of the earliest was as a twenty year old in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas Mexico, I said goodbye to my friend Sheila, we had travelled for only a week or so, but were headed in different directions. Not even lovers, but I sure loved her. When we parted, I sat on the curb and just bawled in front of startled Indians who weren't used to seeing a gringo like that.
And in Spain as a 24 year old, saying goodbye to my friend Blanca, another non-lover, well, technically anyhow, but I was heading through Europe to Israel, and sorry, adios. For me it wasn't a big deal, but for her, she suffered a lot. I didn't realize it at the time, but found out subsequently. We were going to see eachother a year and a half ago when I was in Spain with my son, and she was still referring to how hard that was for her, kind of a lifetime ache or something.
So this whole parting thing is fraught for both parties. Parties parting, and it ain't no party. So I'm at the point where I'm starting to imagine the future. Do I end up here next winter? Likely. Is it feasible to have a long term relationship in the meantime? not likely, I know myself well enough to know that I like women too much to become a monk. Do I really care for M? Yes I do. Aside from the obvious delights that we share in my room at the Royal, there is a lot of great communication, lots of laughter, care and genuine happiness in the connection. She's a smart cookie, and a giving soul, and even though we're so different on the surface, so were John and Yoko, and I think I found my Yoko. She's been something of a muse, as a lot of the stuff I've been writing has sourced from the opened up place of experiencing love. It's a good thing. A great thing...
So to my friend who read me the 'horny sex-tourist riot act', I think your comments were more about your prejudices than about my errant ways or naivete. M is not 21, she's 39, employed, strong in English, with a big soul. It's been a blessing to make the connection. I do thank you for the warning, it's certainly something to be aware of, but I'm going to trust my insides on this one. And we'll see how things unfold.
So it was like a cold shower this morning to be greeted by that bit of accusation, particularly after spending a very loving night with M, another very loving night actually. Ever since I've been back in town, 5 days now, it's been soul satisfying stuff, great connection, a lot of open heart energy, even with the knowledge that I need to be on a plane out of Bangkok on Feb 26. There is a tiny bit of dread about that parting, coming from both of us, but that's just part of the mix, and we'll have to see about it when it actually happens.
Me, I've said goodbye to many many women over the years, after good times and bad, so there is a certain inevitability to it. I can remember some of the hardest ones, when my heart is breaking and there's nothing to do but cry. One of the earliest was as a twenty year old in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas Mexico, I said goodbye to my friend Sheila, we had travelled for only a week or so, but were headed in different directions. Not even lovers, but I sure loved her. When we parted, I sat on the curb and just bawled in front of startled Indians who weren't used to seeing a gringo like that.
And in Spain as a 24 year old, saying goodbye to my friend Blanca, another non-lover, well, technically anyhow, but I was heading through Europe to Israel, and sorry, adios. For me it wasn't a big deal, but for her, she suffered a lot. I didn't realize it at the time, but found out subsequently. We were going to see eachother a year and a half ago when I was in Spain with my son, and she was still referring to how hard that was for her, kind of a lifetime ache or something.
So this whole parting thing is fraught for both parties. Parties parting, and it ain't no party. So I'm at the point where I'm starting to imagine the future. Do I end up here next winter? Likely. Is it feasible to have a long term relationship in the meantime? not likely, I know myself well enough to know that I like women too much to become a monk. Do I really care for M? Yes I do. Aside from the obvious delights that we share in my room at the Royal, there is a lot of great communication, lots of laughter, care and genuine happiness in the connection. She's a smart cookie, and a giving soul, and even though we're so different on the surface, so were John and Yoko, and I think I found my Yoko. She's been something of a muse, as a lot of the stuff I've been writing has sourced from the opened up place of experiencing love. It's a good thing. A great thing...
So to my friend who read me the 'horny sex-tourist riot act', I think your comments were more about your prejudices than about my errant ways or naivete. M is not 21, she's 39, employed, strong in English, with a big soul. It's been a blessing to make the connection. I do thank you for the warning, it's certainly something to be aware of, but I'm going to trust my insides on this one. And we'll see how things unfold.
All I Want This Holiday....
Working on the next song, and it's the total opposite of the three or four which immediately preceeded it. Those were kinda wise ass, inappropriate bar songs. This one is shaping up as a ballad, maybe too sappy, but so it goes. I'm just following where my heart and mind go. It's Valentine's day here, and I just had a sweet interaction with a local girl who is an acquaintance of M's. She and I were having coffee when the girl showed up and she said something like, 'I'm not beautiful so nobody wants to be my Valentine'. I said you are beautiful, and beauty is in your heart. She was a sweet girl, maybe twenty years old, yeah, kinda funny looking but she had braces on her teeth which are gonna help (and a rocket body, but I digress). She and M were just chatting away and it was comfortable. As we left, I went over to the girl and gave her a kiss on the cheek and said, 'Happy Valentine's Day'. She blushed immediately, smiled big, and was so thankful to have that little hit of male energy. Really a cute moment and she said 'thank you, thank you'.
After we left, I asked M if it was OK to have done that. 'Why you ask me?' 'Because sometimes in different countries there are things that are not OK, and I want to make sure that it was appropriate'. She assured me that it was fine, and I said the girl really needed that attention. She was so cute the way she blushed. And then we're walking back to say goodbye until later, and I was feeling kinda sappy and romantic and grateful for this connection with her and I got the instinct to maybe try and write a Valentine's Day Song. I think I'm writing it from the female point of view. To be determined...
I don't need a flower
I don't need a sign
You don't have to ask me
Would I be your valentine
But to have you love me
Just the way you do
All I want this holiday is you
I don't need a stocking
Hanging by the tree
You don't have to promise
That one day you'll marry me
But to know your loving arms
And that your heart is true
All I want this holiday is you
more to come...
After we left, I asked M if it was OK to have done that. 'Why you ask me?' 'Because sometimes in different countries there are things that are not OK, and I want to make sure that it was appropriate'. She assured me that it was fine, and I said the girl really needed that attention. She was so cute the way she blushed. And then we're walking back to say goodbye until later, and I was feeling kinda sappy and romantic and grateful for this connection with her and I got the instinct to maybe try and write a Valentine's Day Song. I think I'm writing it from the female point of view. To be determined...
I don't need a flower
I don't need a sign
You don't have to ask me
Would I be your valentine
But to have you love me
Just the way you do
All I want this holiday is you
I don't need a stocking
Hanging by the tree
You don't have to promise
That one day you'll marry me
But to know your loving arms
And that your heart is true
All I want this holiday is you
more to come...
Jumping Jack Flash ..... it's a gas
Let's put that song in the category of 'songs I've always loved, but they came out before I was a real musician, so I never actually played it'.... until now. Holy crap, that's one of the great rock songs of all time; it's got the riff, got the lyric, got the energy, what an ass kicker of a tune, and it goes right into the repertoire.
The reason I picked it up is because last night, I went out with my buddy Harris to check out some of the other venues in town. He's been coming here for years, knows his way around, so off we went. Ended up at Tuk's place, the Brasserie. Tuk is probably the most famous musician in town. He's a 50 something Thai guy, long hair pulled back, a dark goatee, super skinny guy, and he totally looks like George Harrison. That was the first impression I had of him a few weeks ago when he showed up at my hangout and jammed with us.
That was Harris' thought as well, and he told me that when he said to Tuk, 'you look like a Thai George Harrison', Tuk's response was, 'That's what George Harrison said.'
Tuk has spent a lot of time in Europe, goes there regularly to perform, and has met many of the big names in the business, including George. He used to have a house somewhere up there next door to Jim Capaldi, and he's definitely connected.
Here he owns the Brasserie which is a cool club on the Ping River, that specializes in Rhythm and Blues. When we showed up there was a great quartet of young players knocking out some Albert King and other classic blues. Really strong young lead guitarist, Wow, he blew the doors off the place. But then when Tuk came up to sit in, young blood had to take a back seat to the legend (even though he's twice the player that his mentor is). Made for an interesting dynamic actually, as he was showing deference to his senior, but you could just tell that he wanted to step out and shred. That's what we wanted too.
The first tune that Tuk called was Jumping Jack Flash by the Stones, and I could see the riff easily, see the progression, I know the lyrics, and voila, now I can play my favorite Stones tune, which I will do at many gigs into the future. Thank you Tuk.
The reason I picked it up is because last night, I went out with my buddy Harris to check out some of the other venues in town. He's been coming here for years, knows his way around, so off we went. Ended up at Tuk's place, the Brasserie. Tuk is probably the most famous musician in town. He's a 50 something Thai guy, long hair pulled back, a dark goatee, super skinny guy, and he totally looks like George Harrison. That was the first impression I had of him a few weeks ago when he showed up at my hangout and jammed with us.
That was Harris' thought as well, and he told me that when he said to Tuk, 'you look like a Thai George Harrison', Tuk's response was, 'That's what George Harrison said.'
Tuk has spent a lot of time in Europe, goes there regularly to perform, and has met many of the big names in the business, including George. He used to have a house somewhere up there next door to Jim Capaldi, and he's definitely connected.
Here he owns the Brasserie which is a cool club on the Ping River, that specializes in Rhythm and Blues. When we showed up there was a great quartet of young players knocking out some Albert King and other classic blues. Really strong young lead guitarist, Wow, he blew the doors off the place. But then when Tuk came up to sit in, young blood had to take a back seat to the legend (even though he's twice the player that his mentor is). Made for an interesting dynamic actually, as he was showing deference to his senior, but you could just tell that he wanted to step out and shred. That's what we wanted too.
The first tune that Tuk called was Jumping Jack Flash by the Stones, and I could see the riff easily, see the progression, I know the lyrics, and voila, now I can play my favorite Stones tune, which I will do at many gigs into the future. Thank you Tuk.
Today's song... 'Some guy's tired....'
It's a country song in the key of C
Oh my God, what an angel
She must be a perfect ten
I haven't seen such beauty
Since, Lord I don't know when
But it's not only physical
The lady has style and wit
She's kind and she's pure
And you can be sure
That some guy's tired of her shit
Or how about that intelligent girl
Though some might call her a geek
She graduated summa cum laude
She's fluent in Latin and Greek
Has a masters degree from Harvard
She's close to her doctorate
A brilliant mind and still you'll find
There's some guy who's tired of her shit
3/4 bridge
What's with you guys who can
Never be satisfied
When will you learn to accept
And be gratified
Nobody's perfect, especially you
Why find fault? Oy Gevalt
Isn't it time that you cut her some slack
Open your mind and get off the attack
Love is an ocean, a sea of devotion
And Grace....
4/4
I should be like Mother Theresa
Someone who's above it all
A lifetime of love and sacrifice
She selflessly heeded the call
Spent all her time serving others
A spirit that would never quit
I'm certain that she's up in heaven
And God's surely tired of her shit
Oh my God, what an angel
She must be a perfect ten
I haven't seen such beauty
Since, Lord I don't know when
But it's not only physical
The lady has style and wit
She's kind and she's pure
And you can be sure
That some guy's tired of her shit
Or how about that intelligent girl
Though some might call her a geek
She graduated summa cum laude
She's fluent in Latin and Greek
Has a masters degree from Harvard
She's close to her doctorate
A brilliant mind and still you'll find
There's some guy who's tired of her shit
3/4 bridge
What's with you guys who can
Never be satisfied
When will you learn to accept
And be gratified
Nobody's perfect, especially you
Why find fault? Oy Gevalt
Isn't it time that you cut her some slack
Open your mind and get off the attack
Love is an ocean, a sea of devotion
And Grace....
4/4
I should be like Mother Theresa
Someone who's above it all
A lifetime of love and sacrifice
She selflessly heeded the call
Spent all her time serving others
A spirit that would never quit
I'm certain that she's up in heaven
And God's surely tired of her shit
Absurdities abound and humor too...
I guess the main absurdity du jour is the fact that I'm back in town, reconnecting in a wonderful way with M, with the knowledge that at best we have a couple of weeks to enjoy eachother, build the bond, only to face a separation which looks like it will hurt a lot.... for both of us. So there's a little bit of a shadow lurking over the delicious time that we're spending together. And of course there's also the knowledge that early weeks and months in a relationship are so pheremonally (and phenomenally) awesome and it's not 'reality' (whatever the hell that is). So there is a subtext to the great 'connection' that we're both delighting in. Nothing is ever perfect, that's just the way it is. But if you can find some moments of bliss and wonder, that's a pretty good substitute, at least to this guy. I'm happy.
Hanging with my friends in the bar last night, after not writing a single song today. I have this crew of compadres that laughs a lot together, and it's such a great thing to have in a foreign place. Laughter is very high up on my list of 'wants', and I am drawn to it like a moth to a funny flame. I showed up late, and by the time I got to play some tunes, it was 'no PA, too late' so it was totally acoustic, a little tough on the voice, but oh well. Did a few songs with my buddies, and then I debuted my day old song 'Happy Finnish Girls'. Big hit, apparently. They jumped in on the chorus, laughed during the verses and we had to do it twice. My doppelganger buddy Harry got out of his seat to come close so as to hear the words, and his approval and laughter was a big plus. Ditto the percussionist, a 32 year old guy from Jersey who showed up for the first time last night and fit right into our crew. Funny, irreverent, musical, he's the youth movement apperently. He also loved the song.
Afterwords we were sitting around, cracking eachother up, and I had a guitar in my hands, and it was the kind of deal where songs can just leap into being from a comment or a statement. It must be like when the comedy writers would get into the room together to crack eachother up and make skits, one liners, jokes etc. It had that vibe to it, and since I can turn anything into an 'insta-tune', we came up with two little humor riffs, just based on our conversation. I made a couple of notes, not wanting to forget the ideas, and now today, I'll put in some hours and see if I can come up with the verses. It's a real organic process, springing directly from our words and laughter, and fuckin A, it's a fertile place to be. And now I can get to work and see if I can get some laughs tonight. Who knew I'd come to Thailand to work on my comedy writing career. And yeah, both ideas are kind of bawdy, one based on the line that 'you can see the hottest, greatest, most accomplished, nicest etc woman in the world and there is some guy who is tired of her shit'. It's a guy thing, and an old joke, but it feels like there's a tune in there. So I'll try and find out later today after M and I have some food and she goes back to her place for a nap before work. That's the current rhythm.
The other tune idea I'll hang onto for now, it sounds too dumb to write about until I can put some flesh on it...
But here's one I wrote during that spurt of creativity in the past few weeks. I started it as a guitar thing at the airport in Laos, just trying to find something new with harmony and technique. Specifically, I wanted to begin a song with a C chord, followed by a B7 chord which is an unusual starting point. The old standard 'I remember you' begins with that type of arrangement, but it's a rare juxtaposition, so I wanted to explore there. Came up with something I kinda liked, and when the plane landed in Hanoi and I was waiting for my ride, I pulled out the guitar in the airport there and kept at it, to the amusement of the passing Vietnamese. It was one of the fragments that was kicking around in my brain for a week, and then I put in some hours and hammered out some lyrics. I don't think it's totally set yet, but I shared it with my friends, and they liked the song and most of the lyrics. It's like a Fats Waller kind of thing, old school, similar to Honeysuckle Rose.
Because I want you
I'll do anything you want to
I know it's crazy
But it's just the way I feel
I'm being real
I'm a honey bee
Buzzing all around your honey tree
It's just amazing what your love
Has done to me
And if I'm dreaming
Please don't wake me up
You see me beaming
When I'm drinking from
Your loving cup
I've got the nerve to
Believe that I deserve you
And all I want to do is serve you
All of my love
Coffee time... and some rice soup for breakfast
Hanging with my friends in the bar last night, after not writing a single song today. I have this crew of compadres that laughs a lot together, and it's such a great thing to have in a foreign place. Laughter is very high up on my list of 'wants', and I am drawn to it like a moth to a funny flame. I showed up late, and by the time I got to play some tunes, it was 'no PA, too late' so it was totally acoustic, a little tough on the voice, but oh well. Did a few songs with my buddies, and then I debuted my day old song 'Happy Finnish Girls'. Big hit, apparently. They jumped in on the chorus, laughed during the verses and we had to do it twice. My doppelganger buddy Harry got out of his seat to come close so as to hear the words, and his approval and laughter was a big plus. Ditto the percussionist, a 32 year old guy from Jersey who showed up for the first time last night and fit right into our crew. Funny, irreverent, musical, he's the youth movement apperently. He also loved the song.
Afterwords we were sitting around, cracking eachother up, and I had a guitar in my hands, and it was the kind of deal where songs can just leap into being from a comment or a statement. It must be like when the comedy writers would get into the room together to crack eachother up and make skits, one liners, jokes etc. It had that vibe to it, and since I can turn anything into an 'insta-tune', we came up with two little humor riffs, just based on our conversation. I made a couple of notes, not wanting to forget the ideas, and now today, I'll put in some hours and see if I can come up with the verses. It's a real organic process, springing directly from our words and laughter, and fuckin A, it's a fertile place to be. And now I can get to work and see if I can get some laughs tonight. Who knew I'd come to Thailand to work on my comedy writing career. And yeah, both ideas are kind of bawdy, one based on the line that 'you can see the hottest, greatest, most accomplished, nicest etc woman in the world and there is some guy who is tired of her shit'. It's a guy thing, and an old joke, but it feels like there's a tune in there. So I'll try and find out later today after M and I have some food and she goes back to her place for a nap before work. That's the current rhythm.
The other tune idea I'll hang onto for now, it sounds too dumb to write about until I can put some flesh on it...
But here's one I wrote during that spurt of creativity in the past few weeks. I started it as a guitar thing at the airport in Laos, just trying to find something new with harmony and technique. Specifically, I wanted to begin a song with a C chord, followed by a B7 chord which is an unusual starting point. The old standard 'I remember you' begins with that type of arrangement, but it's a rare juxtaposition, so I wanted to explore there. Came up with something I kinda liked, and when the plane landed in Hanoi and I was waiting for my ride, I pulled out the guitar in the airport there and kept at it, to the amusement of the passing Vietnamese. It was one of the fragments that was kicking around in my brain for a week, and then I put in some hours and hammered out some lyrics. I don't think it's totally set yet, but I shared it with my friends, and they liked the song and most of the lyrics. It's like a Fats Waller kind of thing, old school, similar to Honeysuckle Rose.
Because I want you
I'll do anything you want to
I know it's crazy
But it's just the way I feel
I'm being real
I'm a honey bee
Buzzing all around your honey tree
It's just amazing what your love
Has done to me
And if I'm dreaming
Please don't wake me up
You see me beaming
When I'm drinking from
Your loving cup
I've got the nerve to
Believe that I deserve you
And all I want to do is serve you
All of my love
Coffee time... and some rice soup for breakfast
Back home again..... (in Chiang Mai)
Yep, that's the overwhelming feeling I had about returning to this place after a fifteen day sojourn through Laos and Vietnam. Coming back to Chiang Mai feels like coming home. Hmmmmm interesting. And I was struck by the different feeling I had as compared to the first time. Then I was a bit nervous, curious, wondering what the hell I'd find. This time it was a total breeze, especially as compared with the hustle of Vietnam, more on that later. But now I knew right where to go, right where to get my laundry done, right where to make music, see my friends, have a laugh, see the lovely M, all in all a wonderful return to this place. And it's so friendly here.
The end of the Vietnam leg had a bit of drama attached. I had arranged a cab ride for 6:30am, and got a great deal of $9 to the airport, which is about a 45 minute ride. The guy shows up on time, and I hop in, and offer to share the cab with an Aussie woman whose cab didn't show and she was nervous about making it in time for her flight. The cabbie says something like $15 for the trip and I tell him, no, I arranged this over the phone and it's $9. This is before we even left.
We drive two blocks, he makes a left onto a street, sees something and then starts backing up in traffic, as if he were going the wrong way on a one way street... which he wasn't. 'What the hell is this?', I'm thinking. Then a cop in an SUV pulls up, cuts him off, gets out of his vehicle and gives him a disdainful backhand wave that indicates 'get out of the car, asshole'. The cabbie gets out, opens the trunk, and I am watching through the rear window, with a view under the lifted trunk. The cabbie's hands are shaking badly as he reaches for his cabbie credential as well as a handful of money... which he folds into the license and then hands to the cop. Looked like a total shakedown, organized crime, Hanoi edition. The cop takes the credential and cash and pulls up to a different location on the side of the road. Cabbie follows him, gets his license back, sans cash, of course and seems shaken.
When we leave, he says something like 'Police say fifty dollars to the airport'. I raise my voice, 'STOP THE CAR' I yell, not wanting to be part of the next shakedown. He backs off, OK OK, he says, and we're not three blocks from where the trip began. The Aussie starts to say something, but this is my scene, and I ask her to keep quiet, with a hand signal. I felt bad for the young guy who was driving. It sucks to be victimized like that, to be helpless and at the mercy of uniformed strong arm guys, but it wasn't my problem, and I wasn't going to let it be my problem. We got there without further incident, me knowing that he needed our fare, at the very least, and playing out the possibilities of would he try to keep our bags or something, basically not knowing exactly what was up. I gave him $10 for the trip and that was that, but it left a bit of a bad taste.
That's the thing that a lot of travelers find in the big cities of Vietnam. There is a vibe of sticking it to the westerners, quoting a high price, and then, 'OK OK, how much you pay?' It's a hustle, not surprising, but not the most pleasant thing to deal with. It's fairly aggressive there and you definitely have to watch your dong, so to speak. By far the best part of the Vietnam trip was Tet in a small town. No hustle, just nice and unforgettable.
Last night I played music for several hours and the local watering hole, had a blast with my friends, especially this one dude Harry who is my humor doppelganger. We just fire jokes back and forth at eachother, as he's one of those funny jewish guys you meet sometimes, smart, great sense of humor, very musical, writes funny songs, who does that remind me of? I started sharing some of my new stuff, and people really like it. I did manage to write 6 complete compositions in the two weeks I was gone, which has to be a record for production. Psyched about that and I hope the wave continues...
Didn't sleep enough last night. M worked til 2;30 then need food so we had some soup and didn't make it back to my place til 3:30 or so. But I can nap later. She's up sleeping now, while I write. Very happy to be back home... in Thailand
rich
The end of the Vietnam leg had a bit of drama attached. I had arranged a cab ride for 6:30am, and got a great deal of $9 to the airport, which is about a 45 minute ride. The guy shows up on time, and I hop in, and offer to share the cab with an Aussie woman whose cab didn't show and she was nervous about making it in time for her flight. The cabbie says something like $15 for the trip and I tell him, no, I arranged this over the phone and it's $9. This is before we even left.
We drive two blocks, he makes a left onto a street, sees something and then starts backing up in traffic, as if he were going the wrong way on a one way street... which he wasn't. 'What the hell is this?', I'm thinking. Then a cop in an SUV pulls up, cuts him off, gets out of his vehicle and gives him a disdainful backhand wave that indicates 'get out of the car, asshole'. The cabbie gets out, opens the trunk, and I am watching through the rear window, with a view under the lifted trunk. The cabbie's hands are shaking badly as he reaches for his cabbie credential as well as a handful of money... which he folds into the license and then hands to the cop. Looked like a total shakedown, organized crime, Hanoi edition. The cop takes the credential and cash and pulls up to a different location on the side of the road. Cabbie follows him, gets his license back, sans cash, of course and seems shaken.
When we leave, he says something like 'Police say fifty dollars to the airport'. I raise my voice, 'STOP THE CAR' I yell, not wanting to be part of the next shakedown. He backs off, OK OK, he says, and we're not three blocks from where the trip began. The Aussie starts to say something, but this is my scene, and I ask her to keep quiet, with a hand signal. I felt bad for the young guy who was driving. It sucks to be victimized like that, to be helpless and at the mercy of uniformed strong arm guys, but it wasn't my problem, and I wasn't going to let it be my problem. We got there without further incident, me knowing that he needed our fare, at the very least, and playing out the possibilities of would he try to keep our bags or something, basically not knowing exactly what was up. I gave him $10 for the trip and that was that, but it left a bit of a bad taste.
That's the thing that a lot of travelers find in the big cities of Vietnam. There is a vibe of sticking it to the westerners, quoting a high price, and then, 'OK OK, how much you pay?' It's a hustle, not surprising, but not the most pleasant thing to deal with. It's fairly aggressive there and you definitely have to watch your dong, so to speak. By far the best part of the Vietnam trip was Tet in a small town. No hustle, just nice and unforgettable.
Last night I played music for several hours and the local watering hole, had a blast with my friends, especially this one dude Harry who is my humor doppelganger. We just fire jokes back and forth at eachother, as he's one of those funny jewish guys you meet sometimes, smart, great sense of humor, very musical, writes funny songs, who does that remind me of? I started sharing some of my new stuff, and people really like it. I did manage to write 6 complete compositions in the two weeks I was gone, which has to be a record for production. Psyched about that and I hope the wave continues...
Didn't sleep enough last night. M worked til 2;30 then need food so we had some soup and didn't make it back to my place til 3:30 or so. But I can nap later. She's up sleeping now, while I write. Very happy to be back home... in Thailand
rich
Happy Finnish Girls
Here's yet another contribution to my song list of semi-adult pieces. I got the idea for this one after hanging with a couple of Finnish girls on the trip to Halong Bay. It's called Happy Finnish Girls. It's a swing tune...
Hey Anna Kappinen, oh baby what's happenin'?
Hi Mieke Niemenoff, you're the one I'm dreamin of
chorus
Happy Finnish girls, sweetest girls in all the world
Always pleasin' never teasin' happy Finnish girls
Back there in old Helsinki, blonde girls like to drinky drinky
Up in the land of the midnight sun, Finnish girls really get it done
chorus
Those girls really love a sauna, willow branch makes a gentle whip
You can join them if you wanna, pretty soon you'll start to drip
chorus
Swedish girls are a bit unsteady, Russian girls are just a bore
Finnish girls are always ready, they're the ones I'm coming for
chorus
I don't know how they do it, so hot but they keep so cool
They don't stop when they get to it, must have gone to 'finishing school'
chorus
Got to go with a Finnish girl, to get the action that you need
C'mon fellas, give it a whirl, satisfaction guaranteed
With those happy Finnish girls, sweetest girls in all the world
Always pleasin' never teasin' happy Finnish girls...
Hey Anna Kappinen, oh baby what's happenin'?
Hi Mieke Niemenoff, you're the one I'm dreamin of
chorus
Happy Finnish girls, sweetest girls in all the world
Always pleasin' never teasin' happy Finnish girls
Back there in old Helsinki, blonde girls like to drinky drinky
Up in the land of the midnight sun, Finnish girls really get it done
chorus
Those girls really love a sauna, willow branch makes a gentle whip
You can join them if you wanna, pretty soon you'll start to drip
chorus
Swedish girls are a bit unsteady, Russian girls are just a bore
Finnish girls are always ready, they're the ones I'm coming for
chorus
I don't know how they do it, so hot but they keep so cool
They don't stop when they get to it, must have gone to 'finishing school'
chorus
Got to go with a Finnish girl, to get the action that you need
C'mon fellas, give it a whirl, satisfaction guaranteed
With those happy Finnish girls, sweetest girls in all the world
Always pleasin' never teasin' happy Finnish girls...
Hanoi middle of the night
What, I haven't heard a honking horn for minutes, likely cause it's 5 in the morning and I've been up since 3:30 and sleep just ain't happening, especially with a cab coming at 6:30 to get me to the airport. It was a bit of a comedy show getting out of the dorm in the dead of night, not wanting to wake up my neighbors. I had packed in advance and thought I was all ready, but maybe not. First I couldn't get the damn door open to leave the room. Was it locked, what the hell? I turned the lock and pushed, turned it the other way and pushed, tried the handle and pushed, WTF?
Oh yeah, right, I had to pull. Oops. Reminds me of those signs you see occassionally on doors. 'For best results, pull' Well shit, it was pitch black and I was confused. then I kept forgetting stuff, my locker key, my guitar and I must have been in and out of the room 5 different times, with a loud click each time when the door closed and the lock hit the slot. Sorry fellow travelers, I'm a moron.
The computers are full now with the fellow insomniacs checking their facebook or whatever. Others are checking out early as well, as this place is a beehive of activity. There's a cab, hopefully not for me, as it's 40 minutes before I want to go, better check, however...
Best move of the day yesterday was me passing the hat for our Vietnamese 'tour guide' a really nice and caring young guy who did his best to give us a good experience on the overnight. I got talking with him at one point about his work, his goals etc, and eventually, as a New York Jew would, I asked him if hewas well paid for his work. Not really, he makes $5/day. I let my fellow cruisers know and we came up with $10 and he was exteremely appreciative. Well deserved and thank you, my man, you did well.
Taxi is for someone else, mine will be along later. I have some kind of ear infection, first medical thing on the trip. I'm carrying Sipro for any serious gastro intestinal stuff that comes up. I wonder if it's an antibiotic that would help my ear. Pretty sure I need one. Last time I had something like this, in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, it didn't improve until I got the drugs. I think I'll Google Sipro and see what the heck it is.
Ready to roll back to Thailand, and hoping for a sweet reunion. I have a little bit of nervousness about returning there, as up until now,everything has been forward, but I made the decision and let's go and see. And if it's not what I want, I'll still have time to go to either the beaches of southern Thailand or Cambodia and Angkor Wat. So no worries mate, just enjoyto ride. I'm starting to see the finish line, and it's not a great feeling. I like being on the road, not ready for it to end.
Oh yeah, right, I had to pull. Oops. Reminds me of those signs you see occassionally on doors. 'For best results, pull' Well shit, it was pitch black and I was confused. then I kept forgetting stuff, my locker key, my guitar and I must have been in and out of the room 5 different times, with a loud click each time when the door closed and the lock hit the slot. Sorry fellow travelers, I'm a moron.
The computers are full now with the fellow insomniacs checking their facebook or whatever. Others are checking out early as well, as this place is a beehive of activity. There's a cab, hopefully not for me, as it's 40 minutes before I want to go, better check, however...
Best move of the day yesterday was me passing the hat for our Vietnamese 'tour guide' a really nice and caring young guy who did his best to give us a good experience on the overnight. I got talking with him at one point about his work, his goals etc, and eventually, as a New York Jew would, I asked him if hewas well paid for his work. Not really, he makes $5/day. I let my fellow cruisers know and we came up with $10 and he was exteremely appreciative. Well deserved and thank you, my man, you did well.
Taxi is for someone else, mine will be along later. I have some kind of ear infection, first medical thing on the trip. I'm carrying Sipro for any serious gastro intestinal stuff that comes up. I wonder if it's an antibiotic that would help my ear. Pretty sure I need one. Last time I had something like this, in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica, it didn't improve until I got the drugs. I think I'll Google Sipro and see what the heck it is.
Ready to roll back to Thailand, and hoping for a sweet reunion. I have a little bit of nervousness about returning there, as up until now,everything has been forward, but I made the decision and let's go and see. And if it's not what I want, I'll still have time to go to either the beaches of southern Thailand or Cambodia and Angkor Wat. So no worries mate, just enjoyto ride. I'm starting to see the finish line, and it's not a great feeling. I like being on the road, not ready for it to end.
Halong Bay OMG
I guess if you could just step into one of those Chinese brush paintings, you know the ones with the steep cliffs rising up out of the ocean, incredible forested formations, picture postcard beauty in every direction, Halong Bay would be the place to do it. We took a breathtaking two day cruise through the most beautiful ocean scenery I've ever experienced, moving through channels of amazing giant tock sentinels, gorgeous colors, circling birds, a floating fishing village, something out of James Bond (literally). They made one of the movies here, not sure which one.
Not that it was a perfect trip, as there is a certain 'cattle call' mentality involved in these touristic things, boat after boat, bus after bus of westerners and Vietnamese, a jaded attitude on the part of some of the Vietnamese guys who are plying the tourist trade, but those things definitely pale in comparison to the beauty and good times we had on the trip. I got thrown in with a pretty cool group of youngsters, average age 23, although there were two older couples as well as myself, one Chinese, one Cambodian. But there was a crew of youngsters who were my main companionship.
We were a Mexican, a Spaniard, a Pole, 2 Americans, 2 Aussies, a Brit and 2 Finnish girls, and we formed a nice and happy group, especially when I pulled out the guitar and we sang and played for hours on the upper deck, drinking some smuggled in rum and cokes, and then a bunch of beers. We were the party boat, but it was more about music than alcohol, and I was totally in my element, and they were totally appreciative of my contribution to the good vibes. We sang tons of songs, made up a few improvs, and just had the kind of blast that made everone feel great about our boat and our group. And the song they loved the best was my new 'Have a Happy New Year' piece that I had written earlier this week. They loved it, learned it, and after singing it earlier in the evening, it became our closing song as a reprise. The Polish woman said,'It's the best new year song I ever heard'. So it was super gratifying to create something they really connected with. It may have a future.
The Cambodian couple was interesting to me, even though we didn't share a word, just some friendly smiles. They were maybe a couple years older than me, maybe my age, and I noticed that the man had a bad leg that made it hard for him to climb the stone steps into this amazing cave that was part of the tourist itinerary. I thought, hmmmm, I wonder if his injury has anything to do with Cambodia in the 70s when the Khmer Rouge went about brutalizing and 'reeducating' millions of people. Then I noticed that the 4 fingers of his left hand had been hacked off at the big knuckle. It didn't look like a table saw accident, so I definitely thought of some hideous stuff that he might have gone through. But I couldn't, and likely wouldn't have if I could have asked about it. But his disfugurement was a silent counterpoint to a bunch of happy go lucky western tourists. They were the only Cambodians I'm met so far in this part of the world. Hmmmm
I was definitely the 'eminence gris' of the party, being thirty years older than the rest of the crew, but also being the glue that made a lot of the fun happen. at one point, one of the women asked if I was married, and I said no. They asked how old I was, and I said, you tell me. This is after I had been jamming for a couple of hours and getting lots of laughs and good vibes. One woman said, early 40s, one said 45, I almost said, nope, 49, but instead I said '57', and the Polish woman (cute, by the way, a 'yes', not to put too fine a point on it) actually had an audible gasp when I said it. When I asked her 'did you just gasp?' she said her father is 56 and he seems 20 years older than me. So that's been a bit of a theme, the same thing happened in Song Cong where people were really surprised that I'm as old as I am. I'm not saying this for vanity, it's just what's been happening. I think it's genetics and lack of stress? Hell, I play music every day and make people happy (mostly myself), so I guess it's serving me well. And I've never had a high cholesterol reading. (oh yeah, I've never had my cholesterol checked, but still) But like the doc said, 'And if you had a high reading, would you take lipitor?' Uh, probably not...
I'm nearly out of dong (I love how that sounds), and I've been wanting to not change money until I get to Thailand, so I switched from my $15 room at the hotel to a $6 dorm spot at the Hanoi Backpackers Hostel, where I've been hanging out on the internet. Great place, actually. I set up a cheap cab ride for tomorrow morning at 6:30am, and it looks like I'll even have enough money to get some decent dinner tonight. Kinda hungry actually, maybe something besides noodle soup for a change.
I dig Hanoi, and dig the fact that I got to know the city a bit. It's been a fascinating week and a half here in Vietnam, and I'm really glad that I got here. The highlight was definitely the time I spent celebrating Tet with Lan Anh and her family, and I feel good about having captured something of the feeling in a new song, one that I hope becomes part of the repertoire. I took not one photo, but I got a song, so I'll take that trade every single day...
Next stop, Bangkok, change planes to Chiang Mai, jam with my friends tomorrow night. Life is good.
Not that it was a perfect trip, as there is a certain 'cattle call' mentality involved in these touristic things, boat after boat, bus after bus of westerners and Vietnamese, a jaded attitude on the part of some of the Vietnamese guys who are plying the tourist trade, but those things definitely pale in comparison to the beauty and good times we had on the trip. I got thrown in with a pretty cool group of youngsters, average age 23, although there were two older couples as well as myself, one Chinese, one Cambodian. But there was a crew of youngsters who were my main companionship.
We were a Mexican, a Spaniard, a Pole, 2 Americans, 2 Aussies, a Brit and 2 Finnish girls, and we formed a nice and happy group, especially when I pulled out the guitar and we sang and played for hours on the upper deck, drinking some smuggled in rum and cokes, and then a bunch of beers. We were the party boat, but it was more about music than alcohol, and I was totally in my element, and they were totally appreciative of my contribution to the good vibes. We sang tons of songs, made up a few improvs, and just had the kind of blast that made everone feel great about our boat and our group. And the song they loved the best was my new 'Have a Happy New Year' piece that I had written earlier this week. They loved it, learned it, and after singing it earlier in the evening, it became our closing song as a reprise. The Polish woman said,'It's the best new year song I ever heard'. So it was super gratifying to create something they really connected with. It may have a future.
The Cambodian couple was interesting to me, even though we didn't share a word, just some friendly smiles. They were maybe a couple years older than me, maybe my age, and I noticed that the man had a bad leg that made it hard for him to climb the stone steps into this amazing cave that was part of the tourist itinerary. I thought, hmmmm, I wonder if his injury has anything to do with Cambodia in the 70s when the Khmer Rouge went about brutalizing and 'reeducating' millions of people. Then I noticed that the 4 fingers of his left hand had been hacked off at the big knuckle. It didn't look like a table saw accident, so I definitely thought of some hideous stuff that he might have gone through. But I couldn't, and likely wouldn't have if I could have asked about it. But his disfugurement was a silent counterpoint to a bunch of happy go lucky western tourists. They were the only Cambodians I'm met so far in this part of the world. Hmmmm
I was definitely the 'eminence gris' of the party, being thirty years older than the rest of the crew, but also being the glue that made a lot of the fun happen. at one point, one of the women asked if I was married, and I said no. They asked how old I was, and I said, you tell me. This is after I had been jamming for a couple of hours and getting lots of laughs and good vibes. One woman said, early 40s, one said 45, I almost said, nope, 49, but instead I said '57', and the Polish woman (cute, by the way, a 'yes', not to put too fine a point on it) actually had an audible gasp when I said it. When I asked her 'did you just gasp?' she said her father is 56 and he seems 20 years older than me. So that's been a bit of a theme, the same thing happened in Song Cong where people were really surprised that I'm as old as I am. I'm not saying this for vanity, it's just what's been happening. I think it's genetics and lack of stress? Hell, I play music every day and make people happy (mostly myself), so I guess it's serving me well. And I've never had a high cholesterol reading. (oh yeah, I've never had my cholesterol checked, but still) But like the doc said, 'And if you had a high reading, would you take lipitor?' Uh, probably not...
I'm nearly out of dong (I love how that sounds), and I've been wanting to not change money until I get to Thailand, so I switched from my $15 room at the hotel to a $6 dorm spot at the Hanoi Backpackers Hostel, where I've been hanging out on the internet. Great place, actually. I set up a cheap cab ride for tomorrow morning at 6:30am, and it looks like I'll even have enough money to get some decent dinner tonight. Kinda hungry actually, maybe something besides noodle soup for a change.
I dig Hanoi, and dig the fact that I got to know the city a bit. It's been a fascinating week and a half here in Vietnam, and I'm really glad that I got here. The highlight was definitely the time I spent celebrating Tet with Lan Anh and her family, and I feel good about having captured something of the feeling in a new song, one that I hope becomes part of the repertoire. I took not one photo, but I got a song, so I'll take that trade every single day...
Next stop, Bangkok, change planes to Chiang Mai, jam with my friends tomorrow night. Life is good.
Off on a sojourn to Halong Bay
I was gonna ask the guy 'halong' does it take to get there? but I managed to restrain myself. Retrain myself? Uh, sure, OK. Just free associating here, but I remember that when I learned how to ask, 'how long does it take to get to Madrid?' in Spanish, 'Cuanto se tarda en llegar a Madrid?', I thought, Glauber, you have stepped up a level in your Spanish speaking. Not that that helps me one iota here. I have about 5 words of Vietnamese that I can call on. Yes, no, thank you, happy new year, hello. Hey what more do you need?
I got a letter from a friend, (who unfortunately can't access this blog on her wireless phone), that says it's clear that I'm not as charmed with Vietnam as I am with the other places I've visited. Uh, that's not my impression at all. I'm digging this place a lot, even though I'm now in the big city beep beep beep. For the past two days, I've eaten my meals at little street places, where for $1.50 I get a bowl of delicious noodle soup with chicken or beef and veggies, and I get to be the appreciative white guy who is priveleged to eat like a Vietnamese. They seem slightly intrigued that I would choose to go this route, but it feels totally right.
Yesterday, I made a repeat visit to a place down the street, and she was happy to see me return. Smiled, said something to her friend, which I'm sure was, 'this guy was here yesterday, he must like my soup'. And then she made a point of showing me that the locals were paying the exact same price as me, as if she could read my mind and the fact that I wondered about it. Good vibes there. If I were in town today, I'd go back again.
Yesterday I took a long walk in search of some of the stuff I read about in the Lonely Planet. I bought a 2006 edition at a bookstore, not wanting to shell out $30 for the latest SE Asia version. I haven't referred to it much, but it was real helpful yesterday since it gave me a map of Hanoi, and I saw that a lot of stuff was in walking distance here in the northern part of the city. I headed toward the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, which I knew was closed, but I wanted to see the site anyhow, I didn't need to see his embalmed corpse. To get there, I had to circimvent a very large military compound, which I gather is akin to their pentagon. It stretched for many cith blocks with armed sentries every 100 meters or so. As I walked past those gates, I glanced in to see some impressive buildings and grounds, but I didn't want to look too closely as I was being eyed by the guards. But my guess was that this was the center of the Military power structure of the country, here in the capital city.
I made it to the Mausoleum site, a huge open expanse that you could land a jumbo jet on, and the building itself was a grey, columned affair set on a little rise, with two armed guards standing at attention, guarding the entrance. On either side of the building were impressive stands of bamboo, and there was signage, and murals on both sides as well. There were busloads of Vietnamese tourists on site, snapping pictures of themselves and their children at the Ho Chi Minh site.
Heading back toward my place, I saw the large statue of Lenin in a park nearby, and then I came to the Vietnam Military History Museum, where for a buck I could see some really interesting photos and really really interesting aircraft which had been captured during the French campaign in the 50s and the 'American Imperialist War' of the 60s and 70s. Part of the museum was outside, and you could see a troop carrying US helicopter, and F5 fighter jet, lots of bomb casings, some armored vehicles, missile launchers and other weapons of mass destruction. An artist created an enormous sculpture made of downed US and French airplanes that was a powerful image of the destruction and war that the country has faced. (am I being naive to think that the US was on the wrong side of this conflict?). We unleashed such an incredible shitstorm of destruction here, with millions killed, maimed, deformed in the next generation etc, and for what exactly? Yeah, they get to gloat for winning that war. Yeah, I know I was seeing the North Vietnamese version of events. But this whole chapter is a dark stain on America. It was sobering to walk through the hardware of death.
And I found my way back to the hotel, which was a bit of an accomplishment as I had ranged far afield, so it was nice to make it back for a rest and a shower. Spent a quite night that included some street soup, an ear of street corn and getting lost in my 'White Tiger' book. Up early this morning, the bus will be here any minute to take us to Halong Bay, where we'll board a boat and take an overnighter around the islands and outcroppings. It looks gorgeous. I talked to a few people who have done this trip, and the consensus seems to be that it's a 'booze cruise' with much drinking and revelry... all of which attracts me not a bit. But I'll have my guitar and a pad, so if it's too obnoxious, I'll retire to my private cabin and do what I do. Total cost for this trip, 4 meals, one overnightin a private cabin. $38. Here his is... bye bye
I got a letter from a friend, (who unfortunately can't access this blog on her wireless phone), that says it's clear that I'm not as charmed with Vietnam as I am with the other places I've visited. Uh, that's not my impression at all. I'm digging this place a lot, even though I'm now in the big city beep beep beep. For the past two days, I've eaten my meals at little street places, where for $1.50 I get a bowl of delicious noodle soup with chicken or beef and veggies, and I get to be the appreciative white guy who is priveleged to eat like a Vietnamese. They seem slightly intrigued that I would choose to go this route, but it feels totally right.
Yesterday, I made a repeat visit to a place down the street, and she was happy to see me return. Smiled, said something to her friend, which I'm sure was, 'this guy was here yesterday, he must like my soup'. And then she made a point of showing me that the locals were paying the exact same price as me, as if she could read my mind and the fact that I wondered about it. Good vibes there. If I were in town today, I'd go back again.
Yesterday I took a long walk in search of some of the stuff I read about in the Lonely Planet. I bought a 2006 edition at a bookstore, not wanting to shell out $30 for the latest SE Asia version. I haven't referred to it much, but it was real helpful yesterday since it gave me a map of Hanoi, and I saw that a lot of stuff was in walking distance here in the northern part of the city. I headed toward the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum, which I knew was closed, but I wanted to see the site anyhow, I didn't need to see his embalmed corpse. To get there, I had to circimvent a very large military compound, which I gather is akin to their pentagon. It stretched for many cith blocks with armed sentries every 100 meters or so. As I walked past those gates, I glanced in to see some impressive buildings and grounds, but I didn't want to look too closely as I was being eyed by the guards. But my guess was that this was the center of the Military power structure of the country, here in the capital city.
I made it to the Mausoleum site, a huge open expanse that you could land a jumbo jet on, and the building itself was a grey, columned affair set on a little rise, with two armed guards standing at attention, guarding the entrance. On either side of the building were impressive stands of bamboo, and there was signage, and murals on both sides as well. There were busloads of Vietnamese tourists on site, snapping pictures of themselves and their children at the Ho Chi Minh site.
Heading back toward my place, I saw the large statue of Lenin in a park nearby, and then I came to the Vietnam Military History Museum, where for a buck I could see some really interesting photos and really really interesting aircraft which had been captured during the French campaign in the 50s and the 'American Imperialist War' of the 60s and 70s. Part of the museum was outside, and you could see a troop carrying US helicopter, and F5 fighter jet, lots of bomb casings, some armored vehicles, missile launchers and other weapons of mass destruction. An artist created an enormous sculpture made of downed US and French airplanes that was a powerful image of the destruction and war that the country has faced. (am I being naive to think that the US was on the wrong side of this conflict?). We unleashed such an incredible shitstorm of destruction here, with millions killed, maimed, deformed in the next generation etc, and for what exactly? Yeah, they get to gloat for winning that war. Yeah, I know I was seeing the North Vietnamese version of events. But this whole chapter is a dark stain on America. It was sobering to walk through the hardware of death.
And I found my way back to the hotel, which was a bit of an accomplishment as I had ranged far afield, so it was nice to make it back for a rest and a shower. Spent a quite night that included some street soup, an ear of street corn and getting lost in my 'White Tiger' book. Up early this morning, the bus will be here any minute to take us to Halong Bay, where we'll board a boat and take an overnighter around the islands and outcroppings. It looks gorgeous. I talked to a few people who have done this trip, and the consensus seems to be that it's a 'booze cruise' with much drinking and revelry... all of which attracts me not a bit. But I'll have my guitar and a pad, so if it's too obnoxious, I'll retire to my private cabin and do what I do. Total cost for this trip, 4 meals, one overnightin a private cabin. $38. Here his is... bye bye
Hang On to Your Dong
As you know, the Vietnamese money is called 'dong'. In honor of the dong, I wrote this tribute to fiscal responsibilty. (If any of you read anything different into it, that's on you, friend)
Hang on to Your Dong (to the tune of 'Hang on to Your Love' by Sade)
In old Hanoi, if you're a foreign boy
Hang on to your dong
On a train or bus, you sure don't need a fuss
Hang on to your dong
Keep your hand in your pocket
Never let it go
Squeeze it very tightly
If you want your dong to grow
It's good to have protection
That's never wrong
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong
Here is my advice, don't make me say it twice
Hang on to your dong
When the money's tight, don't go out at night
Hang on to your dong
And if your dong gets depleted
You need to see a banker
If you don't believe me
I guess you're just a wanker
Follow what I'm saying
It will stay quite long
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong....
Hang on to Your Dong (to the tune of 'Hang on to Your Love' by Sade)
In old Hanoi, if you're a foreign boy
Hang on to your dong
On a train or bus, you sure don't need a fuss
Hang on to your dong
Keep your hand in your pocket
Never let it go
Squeeze it very tightly
If you want your dong to grow
It's good to have protection
That's never wrong
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong
Here is my advice, don't make me say it twice
Hang on to your dong
When the money's tight, don't go out at night
Hang on to your dong
And if your dong gets depleted
You need to see a banker
If you don't believe me
I guess you're just a wanker
Follow what I'm saying
It will stay quite long
Rise up, wise up
Hang on to your dong....
On the street in Old Hanoi
I've never tried opium, forget those rumors, but if I were ever to try it, this seems like the place. All of these narrow twisting alleyways, buildings real close together, Asian faces, mystery smells, women setting up on the street to cook their own blend of noodle soup with maybe chicken, maybe seafood, maybe some mystery stuff that I don't want to know what it is. I'm happy eating the street food, not being able to speak a word, just a smile and a thank you, which is 'Kam an' (sounds just like 'come on', so it's easy to remember.
I'd rather spend my buck and a half there for a meal, rather than at a restaurant or street cafe where the prices are 'unpredictable' especially for westerners, especially during Tet. Felt like I got ripped off the other night, paying a little over $5 for some beef and veggies that you cook right at your table. They set you up with a little grill, and enough fuel to cook the food in front of you. Tasted good, but I thought they jacked me up a little bit, so hey, fuck 'em. Besides, I like sitting with Vietnamese on those little bitty plastic stools, grabbing chopstick fulls of green veggies to dunk into the soup which is always delicious. (Now as for the sanitation of how they clean the bowls that you're eating out of... well, let's hope for the best. But I've had not a whiff of any digestion problems, (I could probably find a better word than 'whiff', but oh well) no diarrhea, cramps, nothing, so I'm thinking this way of eating agrees with me. And I'm skinnier than in the US. Feels good.
It would be hard to find a city that could give less of a damn about the Super Bowl than Hanoi, so it was comical knowing that the game was on, and it would be unlikely to see it. But I was talking this morning with a chinese american guy staying at the same hotel as me, and we figured, what the hell, let's see if we can find it somewhere. I figured that maybe the British guy who owns the Backpacker's hostel (and has been here for decades) might have a good idea if some bar would have it on, so we headed that way. And lo and behold, the game was on there so we got to watch the last quarter of what looked like a good game. I had my cup of Vietnamese coffee, now I'm 'borrowing' one of their computers to write a bit, and hey, I like this place. There's even a really nice piano in the lobby, and I'll bet I get on there once or twice before I leave this town.
Speaking of that Chinese American dude, he told me a horrific story about a Vietnamese friend of his who as a ten year old boy, was one of the 'boat people' who were set upon by pirates as they tried to motor to freedom. There were like 50 people in a small craft, folks who had all of their assets with them, gold, money, anything they could use to start a new life. They were boarded by armed pirates, there were rapes, robberies, horror, and then the fuckers took the spark plugs out of the motor and left them adrift and helpless. People were starving, no one would help them, they tried to flag down boats, but no one would stop, not wanting to be responsible for a boatload of starving Vietnamese. Eventually more than half the people died, suicided, drowned, and they gave up trying to flag down any help, as no one cared. The miracle came when a Norwegian freighter passed them, made a U Turn, rescued the twenty or so survivers and brought them all to Norway for hospitalization and care. The 10 year old spent 3 months in hospital, learning to walk again, as after 50 days of starvation, his muscles were useless. When the Norwegians asked him where he wanted to go (his sister had died and his parents were still in Vietnam), he said the US, where his uncle lived. Norway arranged the visa, bought the ticket, reunited him with his uncle, and now 30 years later, he's a successful IT guy, living in Ontario, CA. Thank you Norway. (hear that, Hansen?)
Well, today is a day to get out of the old quarter and be a good Hanoi tourist, read up on what is available, maybe take in a museum or the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Not sure yet, I'll check the guide book and move out a bit from the narrow zone where I've spent the last couple of days. Tomorrow I'll take a two day trip to Halong Bay, spend a night on the boat, see the sights and be offline (gasp). I realize that I've been more on an internal quest than an external one. I'm basically on a writer's retreat with some interesting background sights and sounds. Because, since I'm not a photographer, I'm just really happy writing songs and prose, reading books, making music, meeting people and experiencing life in a different part of the world. Still feeling really lucky every single day. Better pay my night's lodging and then find that bowl of noodle soup....
I'd rather spend my buck and a half there for a meal, rather than at a restaurant or street cafe where the prices are 'unpredictable' especially for westerners, especially during Tet. Felt like I got ripped off the other night, paying a little over $5 for some beef and veggies that you cook right at your table. They set you up with a little grill, and enough fuel to cook the food in front of you. Tasted good, but I thought they jacked me up a little bit, so hey, fuck 'em. Besides, I like sitting with Vietnamese on those little bitty plastic stools, grabbing chopstick fulls of green veggies to dunk into the soup which is always delicious. (Now as for the sanitation of how they clean the bowls that you're eating out of... well, let's hope for the best. But I've had not a whiff of any digestion problems, (I could probably find a better word than 'whiff', but oh well) no diarrhea, cramps, nothing, so I'm thinking this way of eating agrees with me. And I'm skinnier than in the US. Feels good.
It would be hard to find a city that could give less of a damn about the Super Bowl than Hanoi, so it was comical knowing that the game was on, and it would be unlikely to see it. But I was talking this morning with a chinese american guy staying at the same hotel as me, and we figured, what the hell, let's see if we can find it somewhere. I figured that maybe the British guy who owns the Backpacker's hostel (and has been here for decades) might have a good idea if some bar would have it on, so we headed that way. And lo and behold, the game was on there so we got to watch the last quarter of what looked like a good game. I had my cup of Vietnamese coffee, now I'm 'borrowing' one of their computers to write a bit, and hey, I like this place. There's even a really nice piano in the lobby, and I'll bet I get on there once or twice before I leave this town.
Speaking of that Chinese American dude, he told me a horrific story about a Vietnamese friend of his who as a ten year old boy, was one of the 'boat people' who were set upon by pirates as they tried to motor to freedom. There were like 50 people in a small craft, folks who had all of their assets with them, gold, money, anything they could use to start a new life. They were boarded by armed pirates, there were rapes, robberies, horror, and then the fuckers took the spark plugs out of the motor and left them adrift and helpless. People were starving, no one would help them, they tried to flag down boats, but no one would stop, not wanting to be responsible for a boatload of starving Vietnamese. Eventually more than half the people died, suicided, drowned, and they gave up trying to flag down any help, as no one cared. The miracle came when a Norwegian freighter passed them, made a U Turn, rescued the twenty or so survivers and brought them all to Norway for hospitalization and care. The 10 year old spent 3 months in hospital, learning to walk again, as after 50 days of starvation, his muscles were useless. When the Norwegians asked him where he wanted to go (his sister had died and his parents were still in Vietnam), he said the US, where his uncle lived. Norway arranged the visa, bought the ticket, reunited him with his uncle, and now 30 years later, he's a successful IT guy, living in Ontario, CA. Thank you Norway. (hear that, Hansen?)
Well, today is a day to get out of the old quarter and be a good Hanoi tourist, read up on what is available, maybe take in a museum or the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Not sure yet, I'll check the guide book and move out a bit from the narrow zone where I've spent the last couple of days. Tomorrow I'll take a two day trip to Halong Bay, spend a night on the boat, see the sights and be offline (gasp). I realize that I've been more on an internal quest than an external one. I'm basically on a writer's retreat with some interesting background sights and sounds. Because, since I'm not a photographer, I'm just really happy writing songs and prose, reading books, making music, meeting people and experiencing life in a different part of the world. Still feeling really lucky every single day. Better pay my night's lodging and then find that bowl of noodle soup....
Stunned and shocked and saddened...
I received some terrible news from back home today, when I got onto Facebook and started hearing reports of two highschool kids from South Eugene High getting washed off a rock and drowning on the Oregon Coast. At first the news media didn't release their names until the parents were notified, and I'm thinking (selfishly), 'Please don't let me know them'. And then when they released the names, it's 'Oh no, not him, not that family! His name is Jack Harnsongkram, and I thought, that's a Thai name, oh no could that be Saman's son? Saman is this awesome dude who I've known for years, as he operates the Pad Thai booth at Saturday Market. I checked through my emails to see if by some chance that wasn't his last name, but no, it's him, it's his son, an awesome kid who I hardly knew, but was always impressed with. Just a winning personality, helped his dad at the market, a ready smile, a gorgeous kid. NO! And they hadn't yet recovered the body as of this writing.
When it sunk in, I went into some kind of shock place, wandering around town in a fog, my heart going out to the family, how could they ever recover from this. And Saman is such a prince of a guy, he helped me plan my trip to Thailand, gave me great advice, asked me to check in with him and let me know how it was going. He was going to be there also, but had to get back to the states because his son was still in highschool, otherwise, the family would have spent the winter in Asia. I'm crushed, and I know that the whole market community will be devastated.
I went back to my room, picked up my guitar, and immediately started playing a minor key tribute to the family. It wrote itself in a few minutes, a sad, hurting song of anguish and tears. I took my guitar to the lakeside, found an empty bench, and sat there playing it and playing it, as the water swirled, and the Asian faces walked by and by. There is a little walking bridge out to a small island in the lake and I watched the people walking across it, as the colored flags rippled in the breeze and the guitar played a tribute to a young man who passed way too soon.
An old woman sat on the bench with me for awhile, liked the music, said 'hello'. Then her daughter came up and talked with her for awhile, showed some photographs that she had just had developed of the two of them. The younger woman had a half grain of rice stuck to her upper lip that she was unaware of, and it was bugging me bad. 'Can't you feel that thing on your lip?' I'm thinking to myself, aware of the banality of the thought as compared with the sadness of the moment, but such is life.
After they left, two 19 year old kids sat down and listened to the music. When I took a pause, one of them said, 'Good job', and I asked if he spoke more English'. When he nodded yes, I had to tell them of my 17 year old friend who had just died from a sneaker wave on the Oregon Coast, I acted it out, the wave coming in, the boys swept off the rock, trying to swim and dying. They understood and said, 'Sorry'.
I mean, what can you do? There are no words that will make it better for the family. It's just a ripping ache that will never really be overcome. I guess I just did what I do, which is try and put a sound to it, and a comfort to it, and when I wrote about where songs come from in the previous post, I definitely didn't figure that the next one would come from a sudden heartbreaking accident. God bless the family and may they find comfort somehow. I know they will be supported as well as a community can support, such is the nature of our Saturday Market family...
When it sunk in, I went into some kind of shock place, wandering around town in a fog, my heart going out to the family, how could they ever recover from this. And Saman is such a prince of a guy, he helped me plan my trip to Thailand, gave me great advice, asked me to check in with him and let me know how it was going. He was going to be there also, but had to get back to the states because his son was still in highschool, otherwise, the family would have spent the winter in Asia. I'm crushed, and I know that the whole market community will be devastated.
I went back to my room, picked up my guitar, and immediately started playing a minor key tribute to the family. It wrote itself in a few minutes, a sad, hurting song of anguish and tears. I took my guitar to the lakeside, found an empty bench, and sat there playing it and playing it, as the water swirled, and the Asian faces walked by and by. There is a little walking bridge out to a small island in the lake and I watched the people walking across it, as the colored flags rippled in the breeze and the guitar played a tribute to a young man who passed way too soon.
An old woman sat on the bench with me for awhile, liked the music, said 'hello'. Then her daughter came up and talked with her for awhile, showed some photographs that she had just had developed of the two of them. The younger woman had a half grain of rice stuck to her upper lip that she was unaware of, and it was bugging me bad. 'Can't you feel that thing on your lip?' I'm thinking to myself, aware of the banality of the thought as compared with the sadness of the moment, but such is life.
After they left, two 19 year old kids sat down and listened to the music. When I took a pause, one of them said, 'Good job', and I asked if he spoke more English'. When he nodded yes, I had to tell them of my 17 year old friend who had just died from a sneaker wave on the Oregon Coast, I acted it out, the wave coming in, the boys swept off the rock, trying to swim and dying. They understood and said, 'Sorry'.
I mean, what can you do? There are no words that will make it better for the family. It's just a ripping ache that will never really be overcome. I guess I just did what I do, which is try and put a sound to it, and a comfort to it, and when I wrote about where songs come from in the previous post, I definitely didn't figure that the next one would come from a sudden heartbreaking accident. God bless the family and may they find comfort somehow. I know they will be supported as well as a community can support, such is the nature of our Saturday Market family...
What is up with white people?
I'm sitting having my coffee at the Hanoi Backpackers' Hostel, quite a happening joint in the Old Quarter, feels like we're in the UK. Mostly young people in their early twenties, I'll probably get carded here and tossed out on to the street for being an old dude using their free internet. There is a bank of computers available for free, as well as a bar, restaurant, cheap trips to some of the tourist spots, techno music on the stereo, and pasty white folks as far as the eye can see. Yeesh, it brings out the judgmental side of Glauber.
reminds me of when I was on a bus in southern Spain, not that I would ever be so gauche as to analyze women in terms of 'yes or no', would I or wouldn't I?, (that would be sexist, wouldn't it?) But anyhow, 'IF' I were to think in those terms, that ride in Andalusia was yes yes yes yes, no, yes yes yes no yes yes. Here at the Hanoi Backpackers spot with a bunch of twenty something girls, it's no no no no no no maybe no no no. Hmm, maybe when I was asking about what's up with white people, I was referring to myself? Yeah probably. What's up with me? But it seems like there's a sheen of 'dumb' that envelops a lot of the young tourists I'm coming in contact with. It's that 'spring break in Cancun' vibe, where's the party? '2 for 1 drinks, has anyone seen my Ipod'. OK Glauber, you're officially turning into a bitter old dude. Perhaps I should exit this joint and go do something worthwhile, like try to finsih one of the three tunes that I've got in a state of 'almost there'.
But free internet is so nice to play with on a Sunday morning. I'll leave eventually.
I'm reading a great book at the moment, 'The White Tiger'by Aravind Adiga, young Indian guy, first book, a brutal sardonic look at modern India, prize winner, phenomenal reviews and I'm loving the writing. Highly recommended, especially to those like LM and TWM who have spent time in India. Yowzah!
This has been a songwriting extravaganza for me, and the funny thing is, they are all completely different in tone. There's a jazz thing, a folk thing, a funk thing, a 3 chord comedy thing, an old timey thing or two. Hard to predict which avenue will be the next one, but I'm loving the process of letting it happen the way it wants to. It's like there are all these tunes floating around out there, and if the receptors are tuned and located, the tunes just come into focus. Oh yeah, then I have to work a little.
Lan Anh's mom Mui asked how long I've been working and I said, 'never'. Something about my 'job' is that it rarely feels like a job. I have such a good time making music, I don't have to play shitty bar gigs (that would feel like a job), so it doesn't feel like work. Lucky, just like 'lucky money'.
Speaking of lucky money, I got totally ripped off by a 12 year old girl in Laos named Lili. She was walking around town selling trinkets from a little case that she carried around. A really cute kid, very good English skills, she said she was number one in her class every month, and I totally believe that. She came up to me one day and I blew her off, wasn't interested in a bracelet or some such, but she saw me the next day and said, 'I remember you'. We started a conversation and she was really funny, a little actress.
I still wasn't interested, but once she pulled the 'I'm selling so I can keep going to school' card, she hooked me in. So we're negotiating, and I'm trying to drive her down, because I know she's quoting high. Mostly it was a lot of fun, with much laughter. She's the youngest of a lot of kids, and very charming. I started imitating her facial expressions, you know, the fake 'sad expression' when my offer was too low, and she got the joke, knew that I knew she was acting. We finally settled on a price of about $6 for four little Laotian dolls in natice dress. (made by her parents, she said). When we agreed on the price she said, 'lucky for you, lucky for me'. I was quite happy with the interaction.... perhaps a little less so when I saw the same items at the marketplace and realized she had taken me for at least double of what I could have gotten them for. But hey, she's a pro... girl has a future in sales, I'm convinced of it.
no no no no yes, it's a miracle, no no no.
Neil Young now on the stereo, where am I anyway?
reminds me of when I was on a bus in southern Spain, not that I would ever be so gauche as to analyze women in terms of 'yes or no', would I or wouldn't I?, (that would be sexist, wouldn't it?) But anyhow, 'IF' I were to think in those terms, that ride in Andalusia was yes yes yes yes, no, yes yes yes no yes yes. Here at the Hanoi Backpackers spot with a bunch of twenty something girls, it's no no no no no no maybe no no no. Hmm, maybe when I was asking about what's up with white people, I was referring to myself? Yeah probably. What's up with me? But it seems like there's a sheen of 'dumb' that envelops a lot of the young tourists I'm coming in contact with. It's that 'spring break in Cancun' vibe, where's the party? '2 for 1 drinks, has anyone seen my Ipod'. OK Glauber, you're officially turning into a bitter old dude. Perhaps I should exit this joint and go do something worthwhile, like try to finsih one of the three tunes that I've got in a state of 'almost there'.
But free internet is so nice to play with on a Sunday morning. I'll leave eventually.
I'm reading a great book at the moment, 'The White Tiger'by Aravind Adiga, young Indian guy, first book, a brutal sardonic look at modern India, prize winner, phenomenal reviews and I'm loving the writing. Highly recommended, especially to those like LM and TWM who have spent time in India. Yowzah!
This has been a songwriting extravaganza for me, and the funny thing is, they are all completely different in tone. There's a jazz thing, a folk thing, a funk thing, a 3 chord comedy thing, an old timey thing or two. Hard to predict which avenue will be the next one, but I'm loving the process of letting it happen the way it wants to. It's like there are all these tunes floating around out there, and if the receptors are tuned and located, the tunes just come into focus. Oh yeah, then I have to work a little.
Lan Anh's mom Mui asked how long I've been working and I said, 'never'. Something about my 'job' is that it rarely feels like a job. I have such a good time making music, I don't have to play shitty bar gigs (that would feel like a job), so it doesn't feel like work. Lucky, just like 'lucky money'.
Speaking of lucky money, I got totally ripped off by a 12 year old girl in Laos named Lili. She was walking around town selling trinkets from a little case that she carried around. A really cute kid, very good English skills, she said she was number one in her class every month, and I totally believe that. She came up to me one day and I blew her off, wasn't interested in a bracelet or some such, but she saw me the next day and said, 'I remember you'. We started a conversation and she was really funny, a little actress.
I still wasn't interested, but once she pulled the 'I'm selling so I can keep going to school' card, she hooked me in. So we're negotiating, and I'm trying to drive her down, because I know she's quoting high. Mostly it was a lot of fun, with much laughter. She's the youngest of a lot of kids, and very charming. I started imitating her facial expressions, you know, the fake 'sad expression' when my offer was too low, and she got the joke, knew that I knew she was acting. We finally settled on a price of about $6 for four little Laotian dolls in natice dress. (made by her parents, she said). When we agreed on the price she said, 'lucky for you, lucky for me'. I was quite happy with the interaction.... perhaps a little less so when I saw the same items at the marketplace and realized she had taken me for at least double of what I could have gotten them for. But hey, she's a pro... girl has a future in sales, I'm convinced of it.
no no no no yes, it's a miracle, no no no.
Neil Young now on the stereo, where am I anyway?
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