Well it's been a few days since I'm back in Eugene, and I guess the transition is going OK, though I'm far from ecstatic to be here. The weather's cold, I'm less than motivated, I miss my girlfriend, and if I wanted to, I could work up a nice little bummer of a depression. But I don't want to. I'd rather sit down and try some writing therapy and attempt to unearth today's truth. (either that or get drunk, which is funny, cause I rarely drink, though I opened a bottle of red wine and am developing a taste for it right about now. just took a multi-vitamin and washed it down with the pinot)
M just called me from the bar, which she's been doing a lot of. She misses me too, obviously, though I'm sure that this near daily communication will shift into something else. I don't want to lead her on in the belief that I'll be hanging out for 8 months waiting until our reconnection; I don't know how I could ever pull that off, what with me checking out every woman who comes into my vision field. Seems like the odds would more favor me meeting someone and doing the dance. But I definitely do not have all the answers about these type of things, and I think she's more on top of it than I am. M's go-to phrase is that 'nothing is perfect', and that's a pretty accurate assessment as far as I can tell. To think otherwise is to court disappointment.
My house is not quite feeling like home yet, as I'm sharing it with Megan, who is a young disabled woman here for the month on an internship at Mobility International. She moved a lot of things around, left some rotting food in the refrigerator, has made the place her own, as she was here for my two month hiatus, but I'm back now, and I want to feel like it's my place again. Time for a little conversation. Also time for me to do some clean up and get the place the way I need it in order to feel comfortable. That's front burner stuff. I need to feel grounded in the space.
That's the difference between being on the road and being at home. Here I feel all these external 'must-do' chores that are hanging over my head. Got to update the website, got to send off CD's to CD Baby, got to get the house cleaned up, got to line up gigs, got to record, got to up the level of my technology, got to create this cabaret scene which is in my head, got to got to got to... And when I don't do those things, or don't make progress, there is a level of self-hating stress that is nipping at my skin. Don't like it.
Well maybe it's time to start with the physical space, make a sweep through the house and find a way to feel good here. OK, can do, that's a plan, make sure you spend at least an hour at it.
Stories....
I've had the sneaking suspicion that I'd have nothing to say when I returned to Oregon. I mean, if the past be a guide (and it be), I'd just come back and slip into the media driven fog like I had so many times before. It's mostly summed up in the word 'television' which has been a companion of mine basically forever. And that world creates a kind of person who is basically a dupe.... of advertising, bullshit 'news', celebrity culture, tv dramas, which are nothing more than 'stories' but written by someone else, and also beholden to a western world view that we fuckin' know already, especially when presented in the cutthroat capitalist whore-fest which seems to be the nature of current American television. (Not to be negative, of course)
So how to avoid that pitfall? Well, duh, maybe don't turn the TV on. OK let's try that. (dum de dum, wonder how the Blazers are doing, dum de dum, who's on Colbert?, dum de dum, 'did you hear about Charlie Sheen?') It's endless unless one ends it, so I'll give that a try... or at least (backtracking here) not 'use' tv until I've accomplished some of my own work and creativity. Perhaps they could coexist, but only if I'm being fulfilled on the creative level, which is another way of saying 'on the focus' level. Cause I did have the experience on this trip of forcing myself to sit down and confront some creative challenges.
Inspiration is great, but I wasn't quite so hot on the 'perspiration' part of creation equation. But in Thailand, with no work, no TV, no computer at home, I had many experiences of making the choice to work on creative stuff in a more disciplined way. Wow, have I ever written or thought about the word 'discipline' without immediately recoiling from actually considering to try a more disciplined approach. I don't think so, but this time, it feels right and ready. And the thing that turned me from sneaking suspicion to 'yes I can' was the idea of 'stories'.
Because the idea of 'stories' came up three times today, the first when I was leading the first workshop and I shared the notion that stories are the best way to share values and touch the heart. I shared a story that I wrote about an overly aggressive kid (bully) who learns to 'use his power for good'. Then later, I was talking to my friend Jack, who has read every word that I wrote on the road, and I asked him, 'what did he like about it'. He said, 'stories'. And when I told him that the word struck a chord because I was just talking about stories, he related a scene from a movie in which an idealistic English missionary is going to go to China and open a church and 'just tell a lot of stories' to the people. Stories was her way of connecting with the world. It was the thing that helped us know eachother.
If there were ever an ad for 'raconteur' in the newspaper, I would apply for that job. I'd bring an accordion and a guitar, maybe play their piano and just shoot the bull about people and places and sounds and stories. It's a career to which I aspire. I saw Buster Poindexter (David Johansen's alter ego) do a great muscical ond other performance at the Bottom Line, telling stories over the course of the evening, he had us mesmerized and enjoying. That's the gig I want, and I think I could make something happen along those lines around here.
While traveling, I kept coming back to the notion of starting some kind of 'cabaret' performance space, with me as the emcee and musical director. I could put together evenings of entertainment and culture, inviting talented and interesting guests who can sing, recite, dance, amuse and connect with an audience. It's kind of an old fashioned idea, which would lend itself to some of the Tin Pan Alley stuff that a lot of us love. But there could be space for all kinds of artistic effort. My mind runs into some dead ends about how to make it economically viable, but I'll bet that with enough thought and planning, I could bring something nice to life. Hell I need some kind of venue for all this stuff I've been making up. I imagine that though is at the heart of the 'cabaret' idea.
Just got a great flash that a couple or two of good dancers would add an amazing piece to the performance puzzle. That's part of the dream, I suppose, to weave music and dance back together, where they belong. There are some great dancers in this town and how awesome would it be to have a little venue for them to share their talent... to live, original music.
Another flash about this year's Jello Art Show, which is a local tradition. My Radar Angel friends put it on, and I've performed a bunch there over the years. But I don't really want to rehearse for it, just not satisfying enough at this point, but this year's spoof is about the Lawrence Welk Show, and would be perfect for a cameo performance, which they want from me. Since it's a European theme, I'd love to introduce 'Happy Finnish Girls' which would be a good challenge in ultra PC Eugene. Happy Finnish Girls is a play on words that purports to be a song about content Scandinavian women, but is actually a double entendre take on getting a 'happy finish' massage. I think it's funny and swingin' and perfect for the Jello Art Show. Yep, I'm in, this town needs a little bawdy humor.... badly. And I'm just the guy to do it.... badly.
So how to avoid that pitfall? Well, duh, maybe don't turn the TV on. OK let's try that. (dum de dum, wonder how the Blazers are doing, dum de dum, who's on Colbert?, dum de dum, 'did you hear about Charlie Sheen?') It's endless unless one ends it, so I'll give that a try... or at least (backtracking here) not 'use' tv until I've accomplished some of my own work and creativity. Perhaps they could coexist, but only if I'm being fulfilled on the creative level, which is another way of saying 'on the focus' level. Cause I did have the experience on this trip of forcing myself to sit down and confront some creative challenges.
Inspiration is great, but I wasn't quite so hot on the 'perspiration' part of creation equation. But in Thailand, with no work, no TV, no computer at home, I had many experiences of making the choice to work on creative stuff in a more disciplined way. Wow, have I ever written or thought about the word 'discipline' without immediately recoiling from actually considering to try a more disciplined approach. I don't think so, but this time, it feels right and ready. And the thing that turned me from sneaking suspicion to 'yes I can' was the idea of 'stories'.
Because the idea of 'stories' came up three times today, the first when I was leading the first workshop and I shared the notion that stories are the best way to share values and touch the heart. I shared a story that I wrote about an overly aggressive kid (bully) who learns to 'use his power for good'. Then later, I was talking to my friend Jack, who has read every word that I wrote on the road, and I asked him, 'what did he like about it'. He said, 'stories'. And when I told him that the word struck a chord because I was just talking about stories, he related a scene from a movie in which an idealistic English missionary is going to go to China and open a church and 'just tell a lot of stories' to the people. Stories was her way of connecting with the world. It was the thing that helped us know eachother.
If there were ever an ad for 'raconteur' in the newspaper, I would apply for that job. I'd bring an accordion and a guitar, maybe play their piano and just shoot the bull about people and places and sounds and stories. It's a career to which I aspire. I saw Buster Poindexter (David Johansen's alter ego) do a great muscical ond other performance at the Bottom Line, telling stories over the course of the evening, he had us mesmerized and enjoying. That's the gig I want, and I think I could make something happen along those lines around here.
While traveling, I kept coming back to the notion of starting some kind of 'cabaret' performance space, with me as the emcee and musical director. I could put together evenings of entertainment and culture, inviting talented and interesting guests who can sing, recite, dance, amuse and connect with an audience. It's kind of an old fashioned idea, which would lend itself to some of the Tin Pan Alley stuff that a lot of us love. But there could be space for all kinds of artistic effort. My mind runs into some dead ends about how to make it economically viable, but I'll bet that with enough thought and planning, I could bring something nice to life. Hell I need some kind of venue for all this stuff I've been making up. I imagine that though is at the heart of the 'cabaret' idea.
Just got a great flash that a couple or two of good dancers would add an amazing piece to the performance puzzle. That's part of the dream, I suppose, to weave music and dance back together, where they belong. There are some great dancers in this town and how awesome would it be to have a little venue for them to share their talent... to live, original music.
Another flash about this year's Jello Art Show, which is a local tradition. My Radar Angel friends put it on, and I've performed a bunch there over the years. But I don't really want to rehearse for it, just not satisfying enough at this point, but this year's spoof is about the Lawrence Welk Show, and would be perfect for a cameo performance, which they want from me. Since it's a European theme, I'd love to introduce 'Happy Finnish Girls' which would be a good challenge in ultra PC Eugene. Happy Finnish Girls is a play on words that purports to be a song about content Scandinavian women, but is actually a double entendre take on getting a 'happy finish' massage. I think it's funny and swingin' and perfect for the Jello Art Show. Yep, I'm in, this town needs a little bawdy humor.... badly. And I'm just the guy to do it.... badly.
But what if I don't have anything to say?
Whenever I travel, it seems to bring out the writer in me. I guess I would attribute it to the fact of getting away from 'reality', and finding space to let my mind wander, let my creativity flow. Then I get home, flip on the TV and somehow convince myself that I care about whether or not the Trailblazers win the game, and who's on Colbert tonight? I got the strong hit, this time out that I want it to be different, so might as well start now, eh?
I'm so tired at the moment that my body hurts. I'm tending to cramp up in my legs and calves, my eyes are crinkly, throat a bit sore, and I'm damn happy all the same. The workshops today were about as good as I could have hoped for. I showed up an hour before I was to go on, and found out that they had me scheduled to play at Studio One in the Hult Center, which is a perfect venue for what I wanted to do. The room is the right size, and the tech is good. A bunch of people showed up for each workshop, and the response was great. I pulled it off, and that feels fantastic (in spite of the cramped calves, sore throat etc. I'll get a bunch of work out of these presentations, and I sold 40 CDs, which makes it a payday.
But more than that, it was the idea that I could travel for about 48 hours, not sleep much at all during that time and somehow have the juice to do the work and get the response. I guess I have some pride about that... tired pride, but pride none the less, hopefully the good kind.
And after my second workshop, I hung around to make it through the buffet line, (come on, people, I'm a musician, if there's a free meal to be had...) That way I don't have to go shopping yet, and can put it off until tomorrow. Actually the conference still goes on tomorrow, and with my presenter's badge I can eat then too, and I probably will, thank you very much. It's also good to make those connections with teachers all over the northwest. Wow, culture shock, I'm back home in the rain and cold after steaming in Chiang Mai.
M called me up out of the blue today, what a trip! The timing was perfect as I was waiting on the dessert line, so I stepped outside and had a nice talk with her. She had just finished her shift and was going out for some noodle soup at 3am, while it was midday here in Oregon. I think it's cheap for her to call the states, so that was a surprise. I'll need to do some thinking about how to respond to her from here. I know that she'd like me to promise to return at a certain time, but I'll need a little time and distance to make the right move at this point. To be continued.
My room is a bit of a disaster, but I don't have the energy to deal with it. There is a woman staying here named Megan, who was housesitting for us, and she moved a bunch of my stuff out of the living room into my bedroom so there would be more space for her to operate in her power wheelchair. All good, but I need to sort stuff out, both physically and mentally, and now that the conference is out of the way, there is some time ahead for sorting. and who knows, I may even go food shopping.... (if I have to) Where's the rice soup for a buck that I've been living on for months? I love it.
Well if I'm going to keep writing this blog, I better give myself some interesting things to do, otherwise we'll all be bored. So that will be the plan for now... finding a way to keep the creativity flowing, rather than backsliding into the media bubble. I'll try...
I'm so tired at the moment that my body hurts. I'm tending to cramp up in my legs and calves, my eyes are crinkly, throat a bit sore, and I'm damn happy all the same. The workshops today were about as good as I could have hoped for. I showed up an hour before I was to go on, and found out that they had me scheduled to play at Studio One in the Hult Center, which is a perfect venue for what I wanted to do. The room is the right size, and the tech is good. A bunch of people showed up for each workshop, and the response was great. I pulled it off, and that feels fantastic (in spite of the cramped calves, sore throat etc. I'll get a bunch of work out of these presentations, and I sold 40 CDs, which makes it a payday.
But more than that, it was the idea that I could travel for about 48 hours, not sleep much at all during that time and somehow have the juice to do the work and get the response. I guess I have some pride about that... tired pride, but pride none the less, hopefully the good kind.
And after my second workshop, I hung around to make it through the buffet line, (come on, people, I'm a musician, if there's a free meal to be had...) That way I don't have to go shopping yet, and can put it off until tomorrow. Actually the conference still goes on tomorrow, and with my presenter's badge I can eat then too, and I probably will, thank you very much. It's also good to make those connections with teachers all over the northwest. Wow, culture shock, I'm back home in the rain and cold after steaming in Chiang Mai.
M called me up out of the blue today, what a trip! The timing was perfect as I was waiting on the dessert line, so I stepped outside and had a nice talk with her. She had just finished her shift and was going out for some noodle soup at 3am, while it was midday here in Oregon. I think it's cheap for her to call the states, so that was a surprise. I'll need to do some thinking about how to respond to her from here. I know that she'd like me to promise to return at a certain time, but I'll need a little time and distance to make the right move at this point. To be continued.
My room is a bit of a disaster, but I don't have the energy to deal with it. There is a woman staying here named Megan, who was housesitting for us, and she moved a bunch of my stuff out of the living room into my bedroom so there would be more space for her to operate in her power wheelchair. All good, but I need to sort stuff out, both physically and mentally, and now that the conference is out of the way, there is some time ahead for sorting. and who knows, I may even go food shopping.... (if I have to) Where's the rice soup for a buck that I've been living on for months? I love it.
Well if I'm going to keep writing this blog, I better give myself some interesting things to do, otherwise we'll all be bored. So that will be the plan for now... finding a way to keep the creativity flowing, rather than backsliding into the media bubble. I'll try...
Off to the conference
After about 48 hours in airports and on planes and then driving home through the rain from Portland, I made it back 'home'. Got some sleep, now up and showered and off to play a couple of workshops at the Positive Behavior Support conference at the Hilton Hotel. I don't have a ton of energy, but it's way better than it could have been. I'm here, for starters, so the plan is to find the rooms I'm reforming in, plug in and just let it rip. Planning? Who needs planning? (he said whistling past the graveyard). It's all a big experiment anyhow, so what the hell, just do it.
Could use some coffee, which I'll grab before my performance. Other than that, I'm happy to be here, happy that my car starts and off we go. I've got clothes on that I haven't worn in a couple of months, my black shoes and I'll also wear the lovely purple stone on a woven necklace that M gave me to remember her by. I'm feeling gratitude that I made it home safely and in remarkably good shape, given the times and distances involved. There's likely a big crash ahead later today, but I've got the juice I need to do a couple of 75 minute workshops. And here we go....
Could use some coffee, which I'll grab before my performance. Other than that, I'm happy to be here, happy that my car starts and off we go. I've got clothes on that I haven't worn in a couple of months, my black shoes and I'll also wear the lovely purple stone on a woven necklace that M gave me to remember her by. I'm feeling gratitude that I made it home safely and in remarkably good shape, given the times and distances involved. There's likely a big crash ahead later today, but I've got the juice I need to do a couple of 75 minute workshops. And here we go....
Rewind, Reel it In, Reverse
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
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...
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