behold!

once

glen hansards guitar

signs

boy o boy we are crazy for signs. we love 'em

next time you're out driving allow yourself to be hypersensitive to the number of signs you pass. stop. stop ahead. speed. no parking. yield.

tonight i went to go pick up some chinese food (egg drop soup and cold sesame noodles) and i started counting the signs. i lost count.

what started this was as i was driving up my street (the street my family has lived on for nearly 50 years) i came upon a stop sign. there was never a sign there before.

now there is

the thing

a few months ago i had 45 minutes to kill before a rehearsal, i was near the south shore mall so i decided i'll stop by the record store and browse.

i arrive- no store -gone- closed. a major shopping mall and there is no place to buy a cd!

during the christmas season while shopping i notice a very subtle change in the cd and dvd department of my local borders. they both are shrinking, what used to be six display cases is now four. of course what helps these departments shrink is that the stock shrinks. the catalog shrinks, so maybe you'll be able to buy a bands latest album and their greatest hits but good luck finding that first album or god forbid the second album.

"hey" you say "you can get it on line" but online i have to wait (ok maybe two days) but to me, and i imagine to most people buying music is an impulse buy. now! i want to listen, now.

"hey, dummy, you can listen online!"... not the same . I want to listen (now) and as i listen i want to hold "the thing" the case, cover, whatever. I want to read the liner notes, i want to know who played the bass on that tune.

i like the art, the photo, the words, i like the object.

now we seem to be going back to the early days of recordings when the particular song was what the public wanted. you could buy a 45 of just the song you wanted, just like when you download a song. but! when you bought a 45 you got the tune you wanted and the b side! sometimes the b side became your prize. (i remember that odd beatle b side-you know my name, look up the number. i don't remember the a side)

when i was a kid (60's) the album was really coming into it's own. bands would work on a whole album not just a few singles and some filler. lots of pretentious junk but every once in a while, gold!

tower records- gone. one of the last stores to "go deep" in their stock. want a copy of david peel and the lower east side orchestra playing "up against the wall, motherf--ker"? good luck.

(when i was in 8th grade we had an art teacher who would play that album during class, try that today. but that's a different story)

so tonight allow me the luxury of being an old coot and let me bemoan the fact that the world ain't the way it was, and that when i was a kid everything was better.

tonight i celebrate "the thing"

behold!

maria - the dave brubeck quartet plays west side story. paul desmonds first solo

shhh

in the daily news sports section there is a page called americas line. it gives the odds for every and all type of sporting events. you name it, it's there.

on monday they had the odds on the presidential race.

sunday i was visiting my brother in connecticut. it was a lazy morning, breakfast, the paper, and the sunday morning political shows. still a month away from anyone casting a vote.

every word, every move, every hesitation of the "front runners" campaigns are reported on. not only reported on but then analyzed and spun and dissected. any word on any day can spell victory or defeat.

or so we are told- constantly

every expert will tell you that they know what it all means. their insight is all powerful. but when they are proven wrong the next week (or the next day-or five minutes later) they have the perfect defense, they never acknowledge a mistake. move on (as in continue, not the .org) don't look back.

i'm a big boy ,i'll make my own choice thanks. I don't need an expert to cut my meat for me.
i can do it.

so do me a favor and shut up. better yet ,I'll do me a favor and turn you off.

bye-bye*



* with no apologies to john mclaughlin

retale

there is a target store near me , that has a young fella with tourettes who works as a cashier.he doesn't scream or curse- he just occasionally lets out a whoop or a yelp. there are times when i will enjoy a popcorn combo (a bag of popcorn and a soda for 99 cents) and sit and peruse the current issue of star or ok and watch how people deal with the yelps.

most people are self consciously blase about the whole thing. casual, nonchalant-"what ? the yelps? i honestly didn't notice" i love the kids who sit in the cart, a captive audience, three feet away who just stare at him in awe. they don't know what to make of him but they are transfixed by his otherness.

i was shopping at another store the other day (alright, it was a bookstore) and the older gentleman behind the counter ringing me up was not feeling well. he was under the weather, ill, sick. he was typhoid larry. sweaty, runny nose, coughing, watery eyes. what was this guy doing at work? stay home for gods sake! the world will still turn if you stay at home. books will be bought and sold if you stay home.

these stories are connected only by commerce

behold!

(picnic, lightning)


the greatest parenthetical aside of all time, from lolita- the entire description of a mothers death

ban humbug

familiarity breeds contempt. if not contempt it certainly breeds indifference.

those things that are always there fade into the background, become part of the general "static" that surrounds us.

every once in a while let's rescue something from the fog of the familiar.

here goes ( i guarantee this selection will be met with groans, rolling of the eyes, and all things dismissive) white christmas by irving berlin

that's right , you heard me- that song! that song you hear a dozen times a day during december. that song that has been recorded hundreds of times by geniuses and dim wits alike.

but next time you hear it, try to listen as if for the first time. that melody is inviting and comfortable and familiar the first time you hear it. every one can sing it and convince themselves they sound great.

the lyrics are nostalgic and perfectly direct. the images are simple and accessible , everyone can relate. i can even detect (or perhaps project) a wry sort of humor in the idea that the winters were always perfect back then. that is without question a feeling we all share-"when i was younger, the snow was deeper, and whiter and lasted longer and on and on"

do i need to add- bing crosby? curt gowdy, the sportscaster and host of the old weekend afternoon show "the american sportsman" was asked his favorite memory of working on that show for 20 odd years and he said driving with bing crosby on their way to go fishing and listening to crosby sing along with all the songs on the radio. not performing, just singing.

i'm done-you can finish rolling your eyes now

they all find me

how long to you think it takes someone to get over a relationship? my friend has been dating this guy for four and a half years- he's married and he keeps telling my friend that the time isn't right, that he needs to stay with his wife until they get a number of issues settled and then my friend and he can be together. so she's decided to break up with him. so, how long do you think it takes for someone to get over a relationship?

an interesting dilemma, something dr. phil might like to handle. the above was a question put to me by young lady who worked behind the counter at a hess station. i do not know this girl. the full extent of our relationship was me buying a diet lipton green tea (citrus) and the daily news. I got my change and that question. the five people in front of me did not get the question. i suspect the people behind me did not get the question. i did.

in a crowded theater if the comedian or magician needs someone from the audience.......me. doesn't matter where i am sitting....it's me.

standing in line at stop and shop i have been told the most personal details about surgery, family squabbles, sexual misconduct........and on and on.

the couch .by the cook books in borders. a desert storm vet. me. 45 minutes to read a few chapters of a new dortmunder novel by donald westlake. a simple hello leads to him telling me about his time in iraq, his alcohol and drug abuse, the upcoming race war and his plan to murder his wife.

years ago i met brian wilson at a book signing-he signed my book. I shook his hand and he looked me right in the eye and said "good vibes" is there any higher compliment than that?

is that it? is that why they all find me? do i have a warm welcoming demeanor? am i an obviously caring person? do i communicate compassion without judgement? am i a dope?

so next time you see me at the bookstore, show me some love and let me finish a few more chapters

behold!

confederacy of dunces by john kennedy toole

norman

i have been reading "on god" by norman mailer. thought provoking and extravagantly entertaining. mailer, always the contrarian, writes a book about the existence of god while all the rest of the world is busy writing books about the lack of said deity. (well a couple of guys anyway)

of course i don't know that any organized religion would recognize mailers vision of god as artist and very, very, fallible. to god ,mankind is a work in progress, and there are still lots of kinks that need to be worked out.

as sure as there is a god mailer is convinced there is a devil, who is just as active and busy messing with man. the devil is found, in mailers cosmology, in technology.

today i saw proof of the devil. as always the devil is in the details. i painted the living room ( a lovely merlot) primer and two coats. the basic coat on the wall , no problem, 1,2,3-done in no time. but then.......... the trim! the molding! where the wall and the ceiling meet! and on and on!

they say if you want to make god laugh tell him your plans. if you want to make satan laugh , paint the living room

behold!

spaghetti and meatballs

ho

when december rolls around i will invariably be toiling in the land of childrens theater. this year is no exception.

over the past 25 years nary a yule has passed without me performing or directing or writing or producing for the wee little ones (usually all of those duties)

over the years what began as a christmas show has morphed into a "holiday" show. more accurately a "holidays" show. not to put too fine a point on it ,these december shows have become a "whatever the heck holiday that falls somewhere in late fall- early winter that is endorsed by any ethnic or religious group no matter how big or small, will be celebrated with equal fervor"show

so... these 50 minute long musicals, which more often than not are populated by talking animals and elves ....oops.... little people........damn.......fantasy creations (but no wizards!) have to carry a lot of water. allllllllllll the bases have to be covered.

i did a show a year or so back (directed didn't write) that not only dealt with hanukkah and kwanzaa but at least three different takes on christmas (secular, religious, complete with ethnic variations.)

i love to listen to radio classics on sirius-this month they are playing all christmas episodes from various programs ranging from jack benny to this is the fbi. there are of course dozens of variations of the christmas carol and it's a wonderful life but i am most taken by how many of the stories are flat out religious in nature. flat out, no apologies ,baby jesus christmas.

heck, look at how religious "a charlie brown christmas "is. on a side note how great is that vince guaraldi music? christmas time is here? the ice skating song? beautiful but with a perfect balance of melancholy..

so everybody take a deep breath and realize sometimes it's okay to see a show about santa and his elves and reindeer and whats new at the north pole.maybe next week you all can go see a show about baby jesus. or play with a dreidel and light a candle. or read about the 8 nights of kwanza or...............

caw caw

here's an odd little moment

today i went to do some shopping (at a bookstore if you have to know). I parked my truck and was sitting listening to the end of Tales of the Texas Rangers on radio classics when about 12 crows (magpies) landed on my truck making an unholy racket. they jumped (flew) all over the truck back and forth.

what the....?

I must say i was quite impressed with the fact that i didn't scream like a lil' school girl.small consolation but ,still......

it took a few agonizing moments for me to realize that i had a 20 bag of bird seed in the back of the truck that somehow had developed a small tear.

now here's my question- did the birds smell it? or see it? did they read the package?

mustering my courage (and trying to keep images of suzanne pleshette's fate in "the birds "out of my mind) i climbed out of the truck and gave a few good windmills with my arms ,chasing them off and then took the bag and put it in the cab.

that'll teach 'em.

i'm sure whoever was sitting in their car watching this whole drama had a great anecdote to tell around the dinner table.

dot

art.

what's the point?

my first answer is -to be able to see the world in a new way, from a different perspective. no matter what type of creative endeavor you hope to be able to see the world, think about it, and then present it to the viewer (audience , whatever) in a way that informs or challenges.

i saw an exhibit of the drawings of george seurat over the weekend (at moma until jan 7. go!) there are one or two of them that are just about the most glorious things i have seen. all of them stunning. they are lush, at times like velvet. the subjects are full of mystery , very rarely do you see faces usually just forms almost as if they are in a fog.

so the drawings are fresh and unique and of course so is his mature painting style. the points, the dots. always searching for a new perspective, looking for his own voice (eye) and finding it twice. and so young- he died at 31!

the discipline and most importantly the curiosity that takes can be used in everything in life.the artist can very effectively demonstrate the value of asking questions and constantly searching for better questions to ask.

in the bubble where i live most people agree about the importance of art and culture- hell most people in my bubble are involved in art and culture. at my recent birthday party (suprise) most everyone there was an artist of one kind or another and/or a teacher.

but bubbles burst

i remember a few years back i was at a school board meeting discussing arts funding and one of the board members angrily threw down her pencil and declared that she was finished discussing this subject- the board should be discussing reading and writing and science not this...
her thought trailed off but, i'm sure we could finish her sentence.

if you need me, i'll be in my bubble

thanks

how can it possibly be thanksgiving already? wasn't it summer just yesterday? i haven't even put away my summer clothes yet.

of course i haven't put away my winter clothes from last winter either. they're in a pile under the summer clothes.

here's a snapshot of thankfulness (and happiness) sitting around the table at my sisters house eating an extraordinary meal and sharing memories of past meals around the same table.

then all sitting in the living room triptaphaning (tm) and watching a tivo'ed alec baldwin pretending to be tracy morgan's father, mother, self and neighbor and roaring with laughter.

hand me the remote

when we were little kids.- early 60's- we had ,like everyone else, a black and white television.
and like most everyone else -at one time or another- the dial was broken , so you had to change channels with a pair of pliers.

my dad was the official changer of channels. when he left for work in the morning he would ask us what channel we wanted to watch. "Channel 2!!!!!"

"are you sure?"

"Yes!channel 2!!!"

"okay"

he would set the channel and go to work. and all day the tv would be on channel 2. which was perfect for exactly an hour. 8 am til 9 am. captain kangaroo. the rest of the day, game shows and soap operas.

so for an hour- the captain! bunny rabbit! dancing bear! mr green jeans!
the rest of the day a couple of whiny pre schoolers. (and of course this was back in the day, so pre school meant no school. school started with kindergarten. pre school was still nursery school and we didn't know anyone who went to nursery school)

why this memory of being held hostage by tv?

this morning as i filled up my gas tank- i was assaulted by the tv that was on top of the pump keeping me up to date on the weather and all things britney.

later in the day at the bookstore (the bookstore for the love of god!) they have installed a tv by the magazines

of course every dr's office now has a tv, the barber, the train platform, where else.

hand me the pliers, i think i can hit the screen from here

oh

i came here tonight to see if anything new had been posted.

nothing

slowly i turn

about 12 years ago i was at the museum of natural history wandering around.
I'm in the indian (oops native american ) room surrounded by totem poles and artifacts and stuff.
the rooms are dark and filled with stuff. stuff that is giving off a very powerful spiritual, spooky vibe.I am just giving myself over to this vibe and any and all thoughts it is planting in my head.

i remember that when i was a kid in the third grade we went on a trip to the museum and as i continue to look at all the stuff i think "this is the same stuff i was looking at 30 years ago. in the same place.

and as those thoughts combined with the sensory overload in that room i was convinced that i was going to turn around and see my third grade self standing across the room looking at me.

these thoughts are surely the sign of an over active imagination- over heated fantasy- or perhaps the first sign of brain fever.

pure fantasy

or is it?

the other night i was indulging the addiction that is you tube

seinfeld on letterman leads to

tommy newsome, ed shauhnessy and doc severinson playing 'here's that rainy day"on letterman
which leads to

lettermans last appearance on the tonight show, which leads to

johnny and bette midler singing "here's that rainy day" on the tonight show which leads to

bette midler in a clam shell on a south sea island beach singing "oklahoma" from 1977.

this is a cultural touchstone for me- I am always referencing that moment. a moment i never thought i would see again

a memory

but I turn around and theres that 30 year old memory in the room next to me

lookin' back on when i.......

so......stevie

he comes out on stage-accompanied by a beautiful young woman-and talks to the audience for 10 minutes! he hasn't played a note yet.

last year his mother died and at first he felt he needed to retreat, but his mothers spirit tells him to play music.

and he does -for nearly 3 hours.

(oh so the girl on his arm is aisha-'isn't she lovely" and he was late starting because he didn't feel well)

one after another- mostly the 70's classics, superstition, sir duke ,-sunshine of my life, but he went even deeper into the catalog golden lady, ribbon in the sky' another star.

he plays a chord- you smile. he sings- amazing, he plays the harmonica- the crowd roars.

he's funny , playful, passionate, odd, endearing.

"I can't believe that in 2007 we have bullshit like the jena 6"

he stands on the piano bench and sings and then proceeds to jump off!

he leads the audience in many sing a longs, making fun of them if they don't sing up to his standards.

empty seats! lots of them! inexcusable! but of course part of the problem was that when stevie wants to go on tour he wants to go NOW not next year. so not a lot of advance time for promotion.

genius

wonder

genius

perfection

s,wonder

tomorrow -going to see stevie wonder live. needless to say looking forward to this for quite a while.

we all have lists of people we HAVE to see live. But alas many times we let those opportunities slip by.

how many times did i pass on sinatra, james brown, stones etc?

the past few years I have tried to remedy that. of course as with everything this can lead to excess. I saw dylan three times last year. worth it each time though.

hopefully tomorrow night stevie will be livin in the city more than calling to say I love you.

hmmmmmm

hmmmmm- to blog or not. I am a bit torn-once the thing is written is does seem to possess a certain permanance.

and even though there is this cloak of anonymity I am not one to put myself out there, exposed as it were.

I was having a discussion with some chums just the other day and i made the point that i like to appear (in my own mind anyway) invisible. as soon as i become a "regular" some where i have to look for a new place

less/more- as christopher hitchens wrote, as i get older i know less and lees about more and more