C'mon. Sit
With me with
Your mondogynormous
Yellow bird mug
To the rim
With coffee.
The couch is
Sturdy and strong
To support the both
Of us. Curl your
Legs underneath
And lean into
Me. Ooops. You
Made me spill.
I don't care.
It wil dry.
A smile creases
My crinkled face
As I sit with
My own too big
To be legal mug
Full of flavored
Caffeine. The addiction
Is in the need
As much as the
Substance. We
Sip simultaneously,
The same slurping sound.
We look at each other
And laugh.
"Quick! Make a wish,"
You laugh more
Than say.
I close my eyes
And wish.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Release...
One of the best songs ever written. I always cry tears of joy when I hear this song performed well. Thank you, Herr Beethoven: Ode To Joy
The Desperation Bracket...
I wrote abut my experiences the second time around with online dating. I mentioned having to tell people that I did not care to meet with them again. This is hard for me as I hate to hurt feelings in that way. I've steeled myself for the task.
A tangent I was going to talk about but either forgot or...yeah, I forgot, was the age factor and how desperation works into it. What i've noticed so far is that you are far more likely to get a response from someone who is between the ages of 55 and 63. For lack of a better phrase, I call this the Desperation Bracket.
My observation, and I'm an amateur at this, is that the older people get, the more they understand that time is running out for them in the dating world. Sure, people fall in love at 70 and still marry and it's cute and always makes the paper. But time is running out.
As we end our days on the planet, our need for social companionship does not diminish. In fact, it may increase. There are plenty of people who are fine by themselves and carry on. Their partner has probably passed on and within a year or so, they will join them. It happened to my grandparents. After Grandpa passed, Grandma called me all the time. She was lonely after being with the same man for 63 years. Now he was dead and she was living in her house alone. She told me how lonely she was. I thought after finishing college, I might find a teaching job in her town. I did, actually, but it was only half time position. I needed full-time.
Grandma did see me graduate but passed soon after. She died of a broken heart.
A lot of the profiles I read always say they are happy with the way their life is but would be better shared. I agree. I think it is in our DNA to have a companion. Our brains are wired that way. Of course, we can rewire our brains with consistent thoughts (think meditation) or some mantra that gets us through the day. In the end, though, we were meant to be with someone.
The Desperation Bracket makes attempt after attempt to find someone they can feel safe with, comfortable with, someone they can love. Some may never get there. Yet, they still try. Try they must until death or they just give up.
Giving up is not an option for me. I am relatively young, in the middle of the Desperation Bracket, I am not ugly. I am slender, strong (finally) and still have a job and a house. I am an honest person and laugh and make others laugh. I am exuberant, energetic (I mowed the lawn yesterday) and know who I am and what I want/need. I am confident. My shrink says that a man my age does not stay single long. From my experience, that seems to be true.
When I tell someone that I am not interested in them the way they are interested in me, I feel badly as I know I'm putting that person back into the jungle of online dating. I'm not sticking around just so someone can be happy and I end up miserable.
It is very important to stay monogamous. Actually, I think it is better referred to as celibacy. Whatever, keep yourself strong so that when someone comes around that delights you, you have something special to share with them. Yes, sexual tension rears its head and we start looking for a short-term mate. The tension can be released by fucking one of your dates, even if they are not a date. Then what? Keep each other on the line for the next time? It works for some people. It's never worked for me although when travelling as a musician, I had plenty of meaningless sexual encounters. Some of them I remember. How rude is that?
I had one correspondent tell me she hadn't been with a man for three years. Now that's monogamy although maybe to the extreme. Still, I will not meet this person. She is in the Desperation Bracket. My profile photos show the honesty in my face. That is what I have been told by every correspondent when I asked why they chose to correspond with me. I'm flattered but think you should base a choice on more than just a photograph. Wait a minute...that's how it starts. If the photo doesn't do much for you, I guarantee a real life meet up will be disappointing. It is my experience that people look much better in their photos than in real life. That's ok. It works that way with me, too.
The physical attraction of the profile photos gets you interested enough to read the profile. From there, if you make contact, you just have to see how it goes.
Some of the people I correspond with have been online for a few years. I fear some of these people will never connect with someone and will grow old alone. I have to be realistic about my part in all of this.
Online dating is a self-centered activity. You look for someone you think you might be compatible with and go from there. If you are in the Desperation Bracket, you are online all the time.
The dreariness of winter is gone and my heart is filled with love and hope. Desperation is gone. I have time, not a lot but some. I am enjoying my life now. Still, I need that intimate social interaction with a member of the female species. The lines on my face are getting deeper. I'm not getting younger. None of us is.
A tangent I was going to talk about but either forgot or...yeah, I forgot, was the age factor and how desperation works into it. What i've noticed so far is that you are far more likely to get a response from someone who is between the ages of 55 and 63. For lack of a better phrase, I call this the Desperation Bracket.
My observation, and I'm an amateur at this, is that the older people get, the more they understand that time is running out for them in the dating world. Sure, people fall in love at 70 and still marry and it's cute and always makes the paper. But time is running out.
As we end our days on the planet, our need for social companionship does not diminish. In fact, it may increase. There are plenty of people who are fine by themselves and carry on. Their partner has probably passed on and within a year or so, they will join them. It happened to my grandparents. After Grandpa passed, Grandma called me all the time. She was lonely after being with the same man for 63 years. Now he was dead and she was living in her house alone. She told me how lonely she was. I thought after finishing college, I might find a teaching job in her town. I did, actually, but it was only half time position. I needed full-time.
Grandma did see me graduate but passed soon after. She died of a broken heart.
A lot of the profiles I read always say they are happy with the way their life is but would be better shared. I agree. I think it is in our DNA to have a companion. Our brains are wired that way. Of course, we can rewire our brains with consistent thoughts (think meditation) or some mantra that gets us through the day. In the end, though, we were meant to be with someone.
The Desperation Bracket makes attempt after attempt to find someone they can feel safe with, comfortable with, someone they can love. Some may never get there. Yet, they still try. Try they must until death or they just give up.
Giving up is not an option for me. I am relatively young, in the middle of the Desperation Bracket, I am not ugly. I am slender, strong (finally) and still have a job and a house. I am an honest person and laugh and make others laugh. I am exuberant, energetic (I mowed the lawn yesterday) and know who I am and what I want/need. I am confident. My shrink says that a man my age does not stay single long. From my experience, that seems to be true.
When I tell someone that I am not interested in them the way they are interested in me, I feel badly as I know I'm putting that person back into the jungle of online dating. I'm not sticking around just so someone can be happy and I end up miserable.
It is very important to stay monogamous. Actually, I think it is better referred to as celibacy. Whatever, keep yourself strong so that when someone comes around that delights you, you have something special to share with them. Yes, sexual tension rears its head and we start looking for a short-term mate. The tension can be released by fucking one of your dates, even if they are not a date. Then what? Keep each other on the line for the next time? It works for some people. It's never worked for me although when travelling as a musician, I had plenty of meaningless sexual encounters. Some of them I remember. How rude is that?
I had one correspondent tell me she hadn't been with a man for three years. Now that's monogamy although maybe to the extreme. Still, I will not meet this person. She is in the Desperation Bracket. My profile photos show the honesty in my face. That is what I have been told by every correspondent when I asked why they chose to correspond with me. I'm flattered but think you should base a choice on more than just a photograph. Wait a minute...that's how it starts. If the photo doesn't do much for you, I guarantee a real life meet up will be disappointing. It is my experience that people look much better in their photos than in real life. That's ok. It works that way with me, too.
The physical attraction of the profile photos gets you interested enough to read the profile. From there, if you make contact, you just have to see how it goes.
Some of the people I correspond with have been online for a few years. I fear some of these people will never connect with someone and will grow old alone. I have to be realistic about my part in all of this.
Online dating is a self-centered activity. You look for someone you think you might be compatible with and go from there. If you are in the Desperation Bracket, you are online all the time.
The dreariness of winter is gone and my heart is filled with love and hope. Desperation is gone. I have time, not a lot but some. I am enjoying my life now. Still, I need that intimate social interaction with a member of the female species. The lines on my face are getting deeper. I'm not getting younger. None of us is.
Some Things Are Hard for Me to Believe
Gonzaga did not make it to the Sweet Sixteen, but they have before. And will again. This is the only time of year I consciously choose to watch televised sports. I like to follow GU only because it is my alma mater. John Stockton graduated from GU the year before I got there. There were wall sized posters of him in the gym. They may yet be there. I watched him on tv as he watched his son from the stands. He had been there before. John Stockton was back in SLC not as a player on the Utah Jazz, but as a father of a son who was playing for his alma mater. It became obvious to me about 3 minutes out that there was no hope for a comeback from Gonzaga. They lost and it is just as well. I don't have a lot of free time these days and if GU had won, they would still be going and so would I. I wish they could have hung in there.
It's fine that they lost. In order to watch the game on someplace other than my computer, I asked my friend Michelle if she was watching the game. She has Dish TV with a million and two channels. I figured she would have it. Yes, was the answer. She had an app on her phone that told her where and when the game was to be played and on what channel. It was almost halftime before she could find the game. Then, once she located it, she wanted to know how she got there and promptly turned off the game as she explored the various button options, combo button options, etc., but when I pleaded with her to put the game back on, she could not find it. I offered to try and find it but she would not give me the remote. Not that she wouldn't, she is ADD also and needed to figure out how she did what she did. I understood but wanted to watch the game. I said a few things like, "You just had it..." but pretty much just let it go. I understood what she was doing and why. She told me she was going to start taking Adderall for her ADD. I thought that was a good idea. She could certainly stand to lose some weight for the sake of her health.
She finds the game. Thank you. At half time, we had taco soup with tortillas and sour cream. I told a joke to the 6 year-old boy, and the eight-year-old girl, and with her own cell phone. It went like this: "Knock, knock. 'Who's there?' "Dwayne.' 'Dwayne who?' 'Dwayne da bathtub, I'm dwowning.'" Evidently, they had never heard it before and were laughing and laughing. Even their mom laughed. Here I was feeling kind of stupid because the only joke I could remember was a really old one. But they were laughing and swore they had never heard it before. Talk about a generation gap.
Dinner ended when the ballgame started up again. My hostess, actually, I invited myself, was watching the game, texting, and playing Word Play on her phone. Anytime I said something to her, I was interrupting something. I didn't get angry but felt ignored but that was fine as I just wanted to watch the game. When she started cheering when the opponents made a basket, I thought she flipped. She had. She was cheering because she thought Gonzaga was making the baskets. I reminded here, even with my minute knowledge of the game, that the teams switch baskets at the end of the half. We were well into the second half.
I curled my legs under my butt and sat in the leather chair watching the game. Gonzaga lost, I offered to help with dishes, and then got the hell out of there. I did get to talk to the kids about their dad. He's a pilot who's route is between Pittsburg and Cancun. They showed me a photo of him.
I don't go back and reread these posts but I know that I mentioned that I had put myself back in the online dating business. I am somewhat overwhelmed by the response and have dutifully tried to keep up with the emails. There is something in me, a part of my persona maybe, that feels an obligation to respond but some have to be let go and not responded to. The caliber of intelligent response has been more than I expected. I've met with two so far. One is a fabric artist and is in the same frame of mind as I am about my art right now. It just seems as if there are other forces at work keeping us from getting into the studio and getting some work done. Her work is of extreme high quality and sells for thousands. She has published a book and exhibited nationwide. she has writer's bloc, so to speak. I realized, from corresponding with her, that I was keeping myself out of the studio. The non working kiln was an excuse I used to not work. Once I went to Seattle and got a new controller for my kiln, (and installed it without getting electrocuted) I made myself go in and throw some pots. I wanted to do it. Hell, I used to throw every day. Now, I hadn't thrown in a month. My first pots flopped as I was rusty and wasn't yet zoned in to where I was. But I was throwing again. I made it over the fence.
She emailed me for a week, telling me about her efforts to make art and read to her elder mother. I guessed I missed a day and she emailed me and just came out and asked me if there was a romantic interest on my part because there was on hers and her friend suggested she just come out and ask me. She did.
I try to be black and white about things. Innuendo, inference, suggestion...c'mon, just say what you have to say kind of guy. I have the character flaw of expecting that out of every one else. It does not go that way.
So, I was black and white about it. I had been very careful all along to not write anything or make any statements indicating any sort of fondness or growing fondness. I relayed that to her in the responding email I sent. I apologized if I had done so as that it was never my intention. She wrote back and thanked me for clearing that up. I will probably never her from her again.
There are a lot of people in my life that fit in that category. For example, my good friend Dirk, who I played in a band with and lived with while he attended Eastern Oregon University as a music major. He played guitar in the band but you could throw anything at him and he could play it. His main instrument is trombone. I always hope I get to see him again.
I met with another correspondent Friday night in Ellensburg. A state university is located there along with a plethora of single female college professors. I met with one of the department heads. She looked exactly like her photos, which was not good. I came into this with a good, free and open mind and would have fun. The drive is an hour each way but the scenery is gorgeous and there is eternal sky with poofy clouds.
We met at a wine bar and she had ordered a bottle of wine. I was late, as normal, and laughed as I asked, "Am I late?" Since she was the only person in the place sitting by themselves who looked like her photographs, I sat down. We shook hands but eye contact was sporadic as I worked my brain to settle in and talk and have a good time. At least we were both intelligent enough to carry on an meaningful conversation. She told me about her ex, about her three kids at home. Keep in mind she is 56. The conversation ended up being focused on our errant daughters. Her daughter is in the ninth grade. My daughter is in Italy!!!! and having the time of her life and she knows it. This is going to be one changed in the right direction kid. I'm sure there will be some let down once she gets back but, if she sticks to her plan, she will be in college this fall. She wants to stay with me when she gets back. Hmmm...we'll see. There will be no car here for her to drive.
So, the professor emailed me Saturday to tell me what a great time she had, did I make it back ok? She stated she wanted to meet again. My response will be the same. This time there was absolutely no intention of any sort of romantic connection. I knew going into it there wouldn't be. I accepted an invitation and did well. I was polite, funny, serious when needed. We killed a bottle of wine that night and talked for three hours but for me it was a grand opportunity to talk to someone at a higher level of cognition but not so smart that we lost our place. Like I said, we mostly talked about our daughters.
I had planned to meet yet another correspondent this coming weekend. It just so happens that my oldest daughter is coming to town and wants to see me. That preempts everything. My darling, sweet daughter will be here to make me laugh.
When I was online earlier, I got lucky and met somebody who set the standard for any who come after. My desire is to stay with the standard. The standard is part of me. I take it with me. I want to touch her again.
It's fine that they lost. In order to watch the game on someplace other than my computer, I asked my friend Michelle if she was watching the game. She has Dish TV with a million and two channels. I figured she would have it. Yes, was the answer. She had an app on her phone that told her where and when the game was to be played and on what channel. It was almost halftime before she could find the game. Then, once she located it, she wanted to know how she got there and promptly turned off the game as she explored the various button options, combo button options, etc., but when I pleaded with her to put the game back on, she could not find it. I offered to try and find it but she would not give me the remote. Not that she wouldn't, she is ADD also and needed to figure out how she did what she did. I understood but wanted to watch the game. I said a few things like, "You just had it..." but pretty much just let it go. I understood what she was doing and why. She told me she was going to start taking Adderall for her ADD. I thought that was a good idea. She could certainly stand to lose some weight for the sake of her health.
She finds the game. Thank you. At half time, we had taco soup with tortillas and sour cream. I told a joke to the 6 year-old boy, and the eight-year-old girl, and with her own cell phone. It went like this: "Knock, knock. 'Who's there?' "Dwayne.' 'Dwayne who?' 'Dwayne da bathtub, I'm dwowning.'" Evidently, they had never heard it before and were laughing and laughing. Even their mom laughed. Here I was feeling kind of stupid because the only joke I could remember was a really old one. But they were laughing and swore they had never heard it before. Talk about a generation gap.
Dinner ended when the ballgame started up again. My hostess, actually, I invited myself, was watching the game, texting, and playing Word Play on her phone. Anytime I said something to her, I was interrupting something. I didn't get angry but felt ignored but that was fine as I just wanted to watch the game. When she started cheering when the opponents made a basket, I thought she flipped. She had. She was cheering because she thought Gonzaga was making the baskets. I reminded here, even with my minute knowledge of the game, that the teams switch baskets at the end of the half. We were well into the second half.
I curled my legs under my butt and sat in the leather chair watching the game. Gonzaga lost, I offered to help with dishes, and then got the hell out of there. I did get to talk to the kids about their dad. He's a pilot who's route is between Pittsburg and Cancun. They showed me a photo of him.
I don't go back and reread these posts but I know that I mentioned that I had put myself back in the online dating business. I am somewhat overwhelmed by the response and have dutifully tried to keep up with the emails. There is something in me, a part of my persona maybe, that feels an obligation to respond but some have to be let go and not responded to. The caliber of intelligent response has been more than I expected. I've met with two so far. One is a fabric artist and is in the same frame of mind as I am about my art right now. It just seems as if there are other forces at work keeping us from getting into the studio and getting some work done. Her work is of extreme high quality and sells for thousands. She has published a book and exhibited nationwide. she has writer's bloc, so to speak. I realized, from corresponding with her, that I was keeping myself out of the studio. The non working kiln was an excuse I used to not work. Once I went to Seattle and got a new controller for my kiln, (and installed it without getting electrocuted) I made myself go in and throw some pots. I wanted to do it. Hell, I used to throw every day. Now, I hadn't thrown in a month. My first pots flopped as I was rusty and wasn't yet zoned in to where I was. But I was throwing again. I made it over the fence.
She emailed me for a week, telling me about her efforts to make art and read to her elder mother. I guessed I missed a day and she emailed me and just came out and asked me if there was a romantic interest on my part because there was on hers and her friend suggested she just come out and ask me. She did.
I try to be black and white about things. Innuendo, inference, suggestion...c'mon, just say what you have to say kind of guy. I have the character flaw of expecting that out of every one else. It does not go that way.
So, I was black and white about it. I had been very careful all along to not write anything or make any statements indicating any sort of fondness or growing fondness. I relayed that to her in the responding email I sent. I apologized if I had done so as that it was never my intention. She wrote back and thanked me for clearing that up. I will probably never her from her again.
There are a lot of people in my life that fit in that category. For example, my good friend Dirk, who I played in a band with and lived with while he attended Eastern Oregon University as a music major. He played guitar in the band but you could throw anything at him and he could play it. His main instrument is trombone. I always hope I get to see him again.
I met with another correspondent Friday night in Ellensburg. A state university is located there along with a plethora of single female college professors. I met with one of the department heads. She looked exactly like her photos, which was not good. I came into this with a good, free and open mind and would have fun. The drive is an hour each way but the scenery is gorgeous and there is eternal sky with poofy clouds.
We met at a wine bar and she had ordered a bottle of wine. I was late, as normal, and laughed as I asked, "Am I late?" Since she was the only person in the place sitting by themselves who looked like her photographs, I sat down. We shook hands but eye contact was sporadic as I worked my brain to settle in and talk and have a good time. At least we were both intelligent enough to carry on an meaningful conversation. She told me about her ex, about her three kids at home. Keep in mind she is 56. The conversation ended up being focused on our errant daughters. Her daughter is in the ninth grade. My daughter is in Italy!!!! and having the time of her life and she knows it. This is going to be one changed in the right direction kid. I'm sure there will be some let down once she gets back but, if she sticks to her plan, she will be in college this fall. She wants to stay with me when she gets back. Hmmm...we'll see. There will be no car here for her to drive.
So, the professor emailed me Saturday to tell me what a great time she had, did I make it back ok? She stated she wanted to meet again. My response will be the same. This time there was absolutely no intention of any sort of romantic connection. I knew going into it there wouldn't be. I accepted an invitation and did well. I was polite, funny, serious when needed. We killed a bottle of wine that night and talked for three hours but for me it was a grand opportunity to talk to someone at a higher level of cognition but not so smart that we lost our place. Like I said, we mostly talked about our daughters.
I had planned to meet yet another correspondent this coming weekend. It just so happens that my oldest daughter is coming to town and wants to see me. That preempts everything. My darling, sweet daughter will be here to make me laugh.
When I was online earlier, I got lucky and met somebody who set the standard for any who come after. My desire is to stay with the standard. The standard is part of me. I take it with me. I want to touch her again.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Down With Disease!
DownWith Disease and all other illnesses. My ex wife came over the other day after texting me asking me if I was home. I didn't see the text or ignored it or wasn't aware...she showed up in my driveway as i was moving stuff from one building to the house. She's a great person and a good friend but we are lovers no more. She had mail for me and I for her. I was hungry from moving everything from one building to another and asked her if she would like to go grab a bite to eat. We went to a Mexican restaurant down the street, one we took the family to. So we are eating and laughing, being friends with a past. We got to talking about the Phish concert she and I attended at The Gorge Amphitheater in George, WA. We laughed at a certain event. At Phish concerts EVERYONE is stoned. Except we weren't. Everybody else was and they were smoking all around us. People were so stoned they were crawling on the ground. My ex, a Mormon, had not been exposed to anything like it before. During the intermission she said to me, "I am so hungry, I can't believe it. We just ate dinner before coming. Why am I so hungry?" Well, me, former stoner at the time, told her to look around. What is everybody doing? They are all smoking weed. You are breathing second hand smoke. She was fucking stoned! So stoned that we had to leave the concert to go back into Wenatchee to get her fed. That was almost ten years ago and we were laughing at it again last week. She told the story and seems to be very amused by it. Of course, no religious guilt could be attributed as the smoke was second hand and she was naive about the whole thing. I don't think it occurred to her that people would be stoned. It wasn't part of her world.
So, my friend Michelle fed me last night. Evidently, not only am I a starving artist but a starving bachelor, too. We were goofing around with my profile on an online dating sight, trying hard to accurately depict me. It seemed as if everything we thought of would sabotage any chance of meeting up with anyone. Some of the phrases we came up with made us laugh so hard I fell on the floor and she started crying. We howled at the comedy we were producing. I think we came up with "Only the Weird Need Apply." "I think I have a twisted sense of humor and so does my doppelganger." It was if if I were writing a parody profile to not get any response. I held fast and tried to be s truthful as possible. Most profiles are so generic, it as if they are generated by formulas. And they all say the same fucking thing. Everybody likes the outdoors, camping, hunting, fishing, opera, hockey. Because they are dating sites, you are allowed to be so bold as to describe what you see an ideal mate. That's what we did. It's succinct, to the point and there can be no missing the gist of my message. Honestly, when I get to a point in a long, rambling profile, I quit reading, move on.
I get wacky emails from some people. I think the dating sites are becoming the play field of scammers although any segment of being online is open to that. Any way to get information out of you. I've not gotten any that ask for personal info like bank accts #'s but I think one was getting close. Good thing I was using my scum catcher email address. I wonder who on the faee of the Earth has the most email accounts? Yahoo, Google, Hotmail, Juno, hundreds of free email sites to be had for nothing more than information whether honest or made up. The problem would be keeping up with them. Kind of like lying...once you start...but I have three email accounts. I have one with yahoo as I needed a Yahoo ID to get a Flckr account. I never use the Yahoo account because they always get hacked. Like it or not, for the near, maybe far, future, it's a Google world. They are good and secure, my biggest concern. Of course, there is no absolute anonymity on the internet. Information once entered, not matter a bank card # or a photo of you at a party never really goes away. Somewhere you now somebody is downloading everything they can get their hands on. It never goes away. It can make you uneasy but what the fuck? What are I hiding? Of course, I don't want anyone getting their hands on financial info of mine and I am concerned with identity fraud.
I am cautious with the responses I receive. There are all kinds of red flags; people who want to go offline right away, people who want to call right away. It's kind of icky sometimes. Still, it's the only game in town for Americans and citizens of the world.
The best part of it for me is that I can never assume anything. I am black and white. Yes or no. It's more comfortable for me to be like that. Less tension. Unless you run into people that don't operate in that manner. It takes a while to get to know people, usually via email. Innuendo is not easily translated. You have to ask direct questions that cut to the chase. Direct and honest.
Not assuming leaves everything open, everything possible. Even if some things are so obvious if they bit you you couldn't say ow. Never assume. Always ask. Saves a lot of trouble on down the line.
Phish is coming to the best place in the world to see any concert, The Gorge Amphitheater in George, WA. I have seen many concerts there and never a bad one. Phish, Steve Miller Band, Joe Cocker, Ringo Starr's All Star Band, Coldplay, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, all fantastic concerts outdoors in fantastic weather. Being in the middle of the state, it draws from both metropolitan areas in Washington, Spokane and Seattle. People from all over the world will travel there to see a certain band at that venue. I think for at least the last ten years, The Dave Matthews Band has played three nights in a row during the Labor Day weekend. Fantastic.
Phish will be here the 26th and 27th of July. I'm buying two two-day passes. I dont want to go alone.
Hello to all you Germans. This is not gasoline.
So, my friend Michelle fed me last night. Evidently, not only am I a starving artist but a starving bachelor, too. We were goofing around with my profile on an online dating sight, trying hard to accurately depict me. It seemed as if everything we thought of would sabotage any chance of meeting up with anyone. Some of the phrases we came up with made us laugh so hard I fell on the floor and she started crying. We howled at the comedy we were producing. I think we came up with "Only the Weird Need Apply." "I think I have a twisted sense of humor and so does my doppelganger." It was if if I were writing a parody profile to not get any response. I held fast and tried to be s truthful as possible. Most profiles are so generic, it as if they are generated by formulas. And they all say the same fucking thing. Everybody likes the outdoors, camping, hunting, fishing, opera, hockey. Because they are dating sites, you are allowed to be so bold as to describe what you see an ideal mate. That's what we did. It's succinct, to the point and there can be no missing the gist of my message. Honestly, when I get to a point in a long, rambling profile, I quit reading, move on.
I get wacky emails from some people. I think the dating sites are becoming the play field of scammers although any segment of being online is open to that. Any way to get information out of you. I've not gotten any that ask for personal info like bank accts #'s but I think one was getting close. Good thing I was using my scum catcher email address. I wonder who on the faee of the Earth has the most email accounts? Yahoo, Google, Hotmail, Juno, hundreds of free email sites to be had for nothing more than information whether honest or made up. The problem would be keeping up with them. Kind of like lying...once you start...but I have three email accounts. I have one with yahoo as I needed a Yahoo ID to get a Flckr account. I never use the Yahoo account because they always get hacked. Like it or not, for the near, maybe far, future, it's a Google world. They are good and secure, my biggest concern. Of course, there is no absolute anonymity on the internet. Information once entered, not matter a bank card # or a photo of you at a party never really goes away. Somewhere you now somebody is downloading everything they can get their hands on. It never goes away. It can make you uneasy but what the fuck? What are I hiding? Of course, I don't want anyone getting their hands on financial info of mine and I am concerned with identity fraud.
I am cautious with the responses I receive. There are all kinds of red flags; people who want to go offline right away, people who want to call right away. It's kind of icky sometimes. Still, it's the only game in town for Americans and citizens of the world.
The best part of it for me is that I can never assume anything. I am black and white. Yes or no. It's more comfortable for me to be like that. Less tension. Unless you run into people that don't operate in that manner. It takes a while to get to know people, usually via email. Innuendo is not easily translated. You have to ask direct questions that cut to the chase. Direct and honest.
Not assuming leaves everything open, everything possible. Even if some things are so obvious if they bit you you couldn't say ow. Never assume. Always ask. Saves a lot of trouble on down the line.
Phish is coming to the best place in the world to see any concert, The Gorge Amphitheater in George, WA. I have seen many concerts there and never a bad one. Phish, Steve Miller Band, Joe Cocker, Ringo Starr's All Star Band, Coldplay, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, all fantastic concerts outdoors in fantastic weather. Being in the middle of the state, it draws from both metropolitan areas in Washington, Spokane and Seattle. People from all over the world will travel there to see a certain band at that venue. I think for at least the last ten years, The Dave Matthews Band has played three nights in a row during the Labor Day weekend. Fantastic.
Phish will be here the 26th and 27th of July. I'm buying two two-day passes. I dont want to go alone.
Hello to all you Germans. This is not gasoline.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Oh! Now I Get it...
I was a road warrior. I travelled light; two duffel bags of clothes and a drumset with cases. It was all I needed. That and a place to play and a band to play in. I was ready to go at a moment's notice. Really, I'm too old for that now. But I have realized something about it and how it exemplified who I was and who I still am.
I made a promise, vow, whatever, to myself when I first told myself that I was going to be a paid drummer, for hire to any band. I would not get romantically involved seriously with a female. Males either. I didn't want anything to hinder my stairway to fame and fortune. I figured there would be plenty of time for that nce the money started rolling in and our recordings were selling and we didn't have to be on the road all the time.
Ha ha...of course, unless your are stupidly lucky, getting to that point takes hard work and focus, two atributes I was trying to avoid. I was supposed to have fun, meet really interesting people and live my life as if I were to die the next day. Looking back, I was really lucky to keep waking up everyday. In fact, I probably slept through a day or two...
I was successful in keeping my promise to myself. I waited until I was 34 to marry the first time. Problem is, the relationship was about me. No, the relationship was about us in spite of me. I was still doing my thing. I was going to school. sure, I would get a job and support a family but I decided to go to school and nobody had anything to say about it.
I realized the other night that I am still the same way. I drug a second family along with me as I pursued my creative genius in either clay or drumming. I bought equipment, instruments, stuff at the expense of my family. It was all for me.
Even today, I think about what I want to do, not what others want to do. You pay a price for this drive, this creativity that won't leave you alone. You end up being alone. That's too much of a price for me to pay at this juncture in my life. There is much more to do before...
The change is coming. I can feel it. It is slow and steady but the hoofbeats are unmistakable.
I made a promise, vow, whatever, to myself when I first told myself that I was going to be a paid drummer, for hire to any band. I would not get romantically involved seriously with a female. Males either. I didn't want anything to hinder my stairway to fame and fortune. I figured there would be plenty of time for that nce the money started rolling in and our recordings were selling and we didn't have to be on the road all the time.
Ha ha...of course, unless your are stupidly lucky, getting to that point takes hard work and focus, two atributes I was trying to avoid. I was supposed to have fun, meet really interesting people and live my life as if I were to die the next day. Looking back, I was really lucky to keep waking up everyday. In fact, I probably slept through a day or two...
I was successful in keeping my promise to myself. I waited until I was 34 to marry the first time. Problem is, the relationship was about me. No, the relationship was about us in spite of me. I was still doing my thing. I was going to school. sure, I would get a job and support a family but I decided to go to school and nobody had anything to say about it.
I realized the other night that I am still the same way. I drug a second family along with me as I pursued my creative genius in either clay or drumming. I bought equipment, instruments, stuff at the expense of my family. It was all for me.
Even today, I think about what I want to do, not what others want to do. You pay a price for this drive, this creativity that won't leave you alone. You end up being alone. That's too much of a price for me to pay at this juncture in my life. There is much more to do before...
The change is coming. I can feel it. It is slow and steady but the hoofbeats are unmistakable.
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