I’ve been cruising around the local musician websites and forums lately looking for an opportunity to play with someone else.  I’m not looking to be in a full-time band, I’m just looking for a couple of people that want to play music on a semi-regular basis.  Playing my drums to my headphones just has no love in it.  I want to play live music again.
I have no illusions about myself.  There are has-beens and there are never-was’.  I’m neither, I’m a never-tried.  But I still like to play and if I may say so myself, I’m still decent enough to put on a good show.  But the local on-line scene seems to be full of people looking for instant stardom or nasty people looking to start flame wars and piss on others dreams.  So I’m still looking but I’m kind of giving up hope.

I’ve also been looking at a lot of pictures and reading comments on Facebook groups dedicated to the “good old days” when we were just out of high school and I spent more time out at Jax Beach than I did at home.  Everyone was in a band or between bands or helping their friend’s band.  Poor Teresa, she spent many a weekend on Peeler’s deck and at John’s Garage just because she wanted to be with me and I wanted to be around the music scene…  So a lot of those old memories are coming back to me now.

And then last night I had a dream.

We stopped in to a small convenience store to buy some drinks.  I had Becca with me and in the dream she was still about six or seven years old.  She picked out her soda bottle and I let her carry it to the register.  She could barely see over the counter top.  About that time I heard music coming from the back room of the convenience store.  The door opened and I saw a recording studio in the back.  I was about to ask the cashier about it when the front door jingled and in walked a dozen rock-n-roll idols from my childhood.  They were older but still recognizable.  As they walked past us they were rough and loud, sometimes brushing me and Becca hard up against the counter.  I was getting angry and one of them recognized me as if I used to be one of them.  They asked what I was doing now and all of them turned and laughed at me.  They pointed at Becca and yelled, “Ha!  Look what you’ve become.  A fat, corporate, family man!”  I told them that I was happy with who I was and they laughed louder.
I paid for the drinks and we walked out of the store hearing the laughter fade as we closed the doors.  Becca asked, “Who were they Daddy?”  I said, “Ghosts baby.  Just ghosts.”  I locked the door from the outside and put a railroad tie across the doors (these things just make sense in dreams).  Then I leaned down and produced a box of old fashioned stick matches.  I pulled one out and taught Becca how to light it.  She got it lit on the third try and we brought it over to the locked doors.  The whole interior of the store instantly went up in flames.
Becca and I sat down on the curb with our backs to the door.  We smiled and drank our soda pop through bendy straws while everyone inside screamed and banged on the doors trying to get out.

Two thoughts went through my mind;
1:  I love my family and I wouldn’t trade a minute with them for any amount of stardom.
2:  This image would make a great album cover.

If you were famous, how much interaction would you want with your fans?

I’ve met a few famous people and I always downplay it so I don’t bother the person.  Sometimes I won’t even go over to the person (which is not technically meeting them then is it?) At a meet/greet I’m there shaking hands, whatever.  But if no one else is bothering them, I’ll just nod and smile.  Acknowledging that I recognize them and that I appreciate their work.  If I do actually “meet” them, I keep it calm and brief.  If it’s a lesser known celebrity and they don’t appear busy, I might talk for a few seconds but then I get out of there.  These people have lives too.  Many of them have things to do.  And honestly, what are the odds you say something they don’t always hear?  It has to suck being uber-famous.

I mean really, which of these scenarios is more reasonable behavior?

• “Holy shit!  It’s Ron Jeremy!”  [runs over to him, panting and gasping]  “Golly Mr. Jeremy I sure do love your work.  The first porno I remember seeing is an old VHS copy of ‘The Devil in Miss Jones 3′ that my friends all passed around.  You sure looked terrific in that movie Mr. Jeremy, all dressed up in that diaper and baby doll bib.  Will you autograph my cast?”

• A simple “Mr. Jeremy” and a nod/wink in his direction as he walks on by.

The second choice says all the above without causing a scene.  BUT, what if you are the celebrity and suddenly no one mobbed you when you went down to the local Starbucks?  Would you feel unappreciated?  Would you feel like your time is over, your star is sinking and maybe it’s time to retire?  I don’t know.  I just gotta think we should leave these people alone man.  Let them live their lives.

And really, that baby doll scene in TDIMJ3 is fucking disturbing…

I haven’t watched the award ceremony in years and even then only minutes at a time.  I couldn’t give a flying rat turd which movie wins which award.  I don’t care who wins best actors and I’m amazed that people are still interested in who wins for things like editing and costumes.  If there was a period piece that year, it wins for best costume, big surprise…  Why should I give a shit?  Oh sure, if I were in the costume making business I’d care but most of us are not in the movie industry.  It’s the same thing as watching the credits after a movie.  Do you care who the key grip was?  Do you know what a key grip does?  I’m sure his mother cares a great deal.  She’s the one who watches the credits more attentivly than the actual feature and cries, “That’s my boy!” but the rest of us don’t fucking care.

As for the main categories, I still don’t care.  Here it is, the day after the big show and I still have no idea who won what.  Don’t care.  If it wins an award it won’t make the movie any better.  But you know what it will do?  It can take a crappy/mediocre movie and if they have enough friends among the reviewing judges and they give it an award, that crappy movie will be instantly transformed to a prestigious “film”. Of course it could work the other way around as well.  There are some good movies out there that are overlooked throughout the year and they could get a second glance if they win an award.  But that almost never happens!  Schlock wins out over art.

It’s predictable.  Here you go.  I swear to you that I have not looked up who won but I’ll bet this is how it went down:  Some “important and serious” movie wins overall, Avatar wins for the “pretty” and the actor awards will be from emotional response movies.  Same shit every year.  I only specified Avatar because it’s a no-brainer this year.  Avatar was as bland as 3-day old dishwater but it was very, VERY pretty…  The rest; documentary, shorts, foreign…  I can’t even be bothered to waste a thought about them.  I just don’t fucking care.

Oh and the fucking pageantry of the red carpet.  Fuck these people.  I wish someone had the guts to show up in jeans and a t-shirt and tell the cameras they’re not here to impress anybody…  Actually that might be a bad and classless move, it is a formal affair…  But who are these people that care who made the dress?  Is it pretty, did you like it?  Why isn’t that good enough?  Okay, forget the jeans/T-shirt move, I want to see an A-list actress show up in the perfect dress and when they go on and on about it, tell the cameras she found it in a Goodwill bin for $7.  Or if they hate the dress tell them her grandmother (who was one of the costumers on Gone With the Wind) fought her debilitating arthritis and hand-sewed it over three years, finishing just a week before she died of a horribly painful disease, sob into the camera for a three count and just as the person who didn’t like the dress is feeling guilty, look up, smile and walk away.  I’d also like to see one of the other actresses break a heel and tumble down the carpet, knocking down a few other actors.  Maybe give someone a big fat black eye and a torn shirt just in time for the acceptance speech.  As you can tell, I’m not much for the “who’s who” gig…

I haven’t watched it in years.  I didn’t watch it last night.  I’ll probably never watch it in the future.  Yet, I love talking about movies.  I’m just fucked in the head…

Be careful what you wish for, you might get it right?  I was selfish and jumped at the chance to come home and be with my family.  BUT, we were not financially prepared for just HOW much less I would make.  I still make a very decent salary (obscene money considering how often I’m home before 3pm) but the money and perks on the road were just THAT much greater.

With all the financial burdens and the fact that we had moved out to the middle of nowhere, we had effectively exiled ourselves.  We were so broke that even paying for the gasoline to travel across the bridge to simply “hang out” was too expensive.  It was a crushing year.  All we heard, all year long, was “wait until January.”  What a shitty mantra.  If we could make it through to January, we’d be okay.  January turned to February and now we’re into March.  But there is a light.

We’re the dumbasses that use our tax return as a forced savings account.  We KNOW that if we have it all year long, we’ll spend it all year long, probably on crap like McDonald’s…  But we overpay all year and when tax time comes, we get a small pile back.  Not the best financial exercise but the most practical one for us.

And that pile has arrived.  We splurged a bit.  We went out to dinner once and we bought some shelving units for the garage.  But this is our last chance.  If we screw up now, we’ll sink.  We’ll take the money, pay off the remaining bills, roll those payments back into the other bills and by this time next year, be free and clear of the debt that is hanging us up by our toes.  We’ll still have the house payment and utilities and such, but all the biting little loans and credit cards will be gone.  If we go out and buy that nice television I’ve been planning on mounting in the living room for the last two years, we won’t get those bills paid off and we’ll be back in the same boat, waiting on January again.

Teresa is making the attempt to thin out her responsibilities (although I think she’s getting talked back into a few of them dammit!!!) and by June, we should be back to normal (whatever “normal” is).  We’ll be free to go where we want and we’ll be able to afford to go.  Trying to fly at the speed of light between all these events and obligations is kind of like trying to successfully navigate an asteroid field (odds 3720:1) but its a lot more fun when those events and obligations are things we actually WANT to do.

I think that even though we can’t get that TV, we might be able to (through sheer necessity and emotional exhaustion) take a small break.  Maybe go for a trip, a long weekend somewhere.  Put our toes in the sand and put a drink in our hand…  An overnight trip somewhere may not sound like much to the rest of you but a full weekend away from the house, away from scouts, away from work and school…  It’s about the best we can hope for right now and honestly, it sounds like paradise.  So enjoy your week-long vacations, your regular getaways, your big televisions and your new toys, we’re just hoping for 48hours of peace before we have to climb back into the machine and push on for another year.  Maybe next year we’ll get back to going on real vacations.  For now, if we get those 48hours, we’ll be happy.

I woke up from some wonderful dreams this morning.  They were filled with lots of hugs and some kissing (and that’s ALL!!!!)  But as with most dreams, we were interrupted and never found a way back to them.

I really miss some of you out there…

June 13th is my last official day as Coach to 5 Girl Scout Troops. June 13th was supposed to be my last official day as Daisy leader but every time I begin my resignation letter and plan to notify my daisy mom’s, Becca stops me with the plea that she doesn’t want to lose her daisy troop. Honestly, she’s been running the darn thing since November. I plan the meetings and then deal with the parents, Becca handles the girls and the activities. But it’s just too much. I can’t take it any longer. I turned in my resignation for Secretary, but they’ve asked me to hold off on that one.. they think I’ll change my mind before September rolls around.. we’ll see.. it’s not much to do, so we’ll see. The Cadette troop? Still debating on that.. the girls want me to stay but… I don’t know if I have another 4 years left in me for them. I’m burned out and ready for a padded cell.

Cookie sales are underway and chaos as usual surrounds us. Parents are calling me asking me questions when I’m not in charge of cookie sales. Parents refuse to call the cookie mom because they KNOW I’ll answer the phone and answer their questions. Tonight was our first booth and due to an issue with one parent – FOUR cookie booths are being disrupted and screwed up. GRRRR! Just burns me up. Thought I’d have a quiet night at home trying to get laundry done before I headed out to check on 4 booths tomorrow. NOPE!

My daisy parents are driving me crazy. I’ve discreetly informed a few I’d be resigning and they’ve all done the standard, “you can’t leave, you’re amazing” routine. Blah blah blah, I know I’m replaceable… just find someone. No one wants the responsibility but they all have no problem offering me suggestions on how to run the meetings, plan the meetings and which patches they want. I’ve blown up a few times and they’ve all been shocked I’d be so upset at their “assistance”. Hell, if they want to offer assistance – take over the damn troop! One mom is purchasing patches weekly – and we’ve not even done the projects! It’s crazy. But, of course, she wants me to research and plan the activities for those patches she purchased. GRRR!

Morgan house is in absolute chaos. The house is a mess, the laundry is piling up and the anger and frustration is mounting. Fighting daily, going to bed angry or sad.. it’s pitiful. No way to get around it. Patience is lost, compassion is gone…no time for ourselves so how can we have time for each other? If we make it to June it will be a freaking miracle. Hell, I say we… It’s me. I have no time, patience, or energy for my family. I’ve let myself go.. not taking my meds, not eating anything healthy..hell half the time not even bothering to brush my hair I’m so darn busy… I’m letting my business (and Girl Scouting) interfere with family time. My hours are 7-5:30 but for the past 4 months I’ve been working 6 until 6 and one parent just asked last night if I’d work until 6:30pm. Can’t do it  (not because of family) but…because 3 nights (sometimes 4) a week I have to be in Arlington at 6:15 for girl scouting. Dinner has been McDonalds all week because with 5 kids and then Girl Scouts, I don’t have time to cook dinner – heck tonight I used the crock pot and almost didn’t get it done on time..I love my job, I love the kids but I’m screwing up by being too nice. A lot will change in June, a lot of stress will disappear but will we make it until then? Only time will tell I guess.

And.. will we have any friends by then? I just realized tonight that we’ve been out of the loop for over a year. WOW.. didn’t realize it until tonight. Haven’t hung out with friends, haven’t attended parties, haven’t gone to dinner..we’ve been so crazy out of the loop.. Will we have friends in June? Will they forgive us for neglecting them?? My schedule is packed until May. Every weekend is crammed full of event after event – EVEN SUNDAYS! How did I let that happen? And as good as I am with keeping records.. how do I double book myself? I’ve done it twice in the past few weeks. If anyone knows how to clone… I’m in the market for a second me!

Feeling better after a vent.. Now if only I had a room full of friends and a bottle of tequila….

I am continually set up for failure.  Because I’ve always been disagreeable, the case against me is won the second I disagree.  Because I was once dangerously unstable, all my future stumbles will be counted as the onset of another episode.  Some stigmas linger well beyond their causes.  Look at me.  If I were still as disagreeable and unstable as I once was, would I make the attempt to right the boat?  I have adopted new ways and methods.  Where I used to retreat and withdraw, I have exposed myself and confronted my pain.  I have showed through repeated trials that this is not a phase, this is not some new game that I will tire of.  This is not some new hustle where I have learned how to manipulate the game in my favor.  Over the years I have repeatedly demonstrated that yes, I am changed.  And yet, still I am counted as damaged.

I stole a few things when I was a kid, do you guard your wallet when I enter the room?

I cheated at a game of Monopoly when I was nine, will I forever play the part of the crook?

Because I’ve lied in the past, is anything I’ve ever said the truth?

I can not blame anyone for this but myself.  People that have been hurt by me again and again have learned that I am not to be trusted.  I have trampled on your feelings one too many times and I understand your reluctance to allow me the chance to do it once more.  Friends, family, loved ones, common associates…  few of the people I mingle with are stupid.  They are a group of good and intelligent people and it seems that they have learned to distrust me for good reason.

When the dog bites you the second time, you put him down.

So a giraffe walks into a bar and says, “The highballs are on me!”

When did my voice change?  I used to do fairly decent impersonations of a few famous voices, now I can’t even come close.  I’m not a singer but by singing along with the music I guess I’ve conditioned my voice for lower registers over the years.  Now I can growl along with the music but hitting any of the old higher notes is out of reach.  Didn’t see that coming.

Fuck Frodo, Sam is the real hero in the Lord of the Rings stories…

Does anyone still work from 9-5?  Is the song rendered obsolete by the fact that most people are working nine/ten hour days now?  Oh sure, we’re only getting paid for the eight hours but all those extra unpaid hours you spend here and there working to beat deadlines and impress the middle manager hoping to be noticed and get a raise or maybe even a promotion.  Eight-hour workers are going nowhere…

How wrong is it that my iPod just went from Taj Mahal to Nick Cave and I barely even noticed?

Is it possible to deny your programming?  Okay, wait, rephrasing…  How long does it take to change your programming?  I have tried, real hard, to stop being so damn cynical.  I want to change my default from cynic to skeptic and I have made a very serious attempt at doing so but it’s soooooo hard!  And of course this would be easier if I were trying to change something else but being the nature of cynics, it’s too easy to just say it can’t be done and walk away.  I’m tired of hating everything by default and learning to like it later.  I’d like to be a little more open…

Learn to swim!

My coworker is out of the office today, there are three phones as well as my two cell phones on my desk.  They rarely ring, everything is done through e-mail which can be accessed from a remote location (like, home).  How long before someone figures out that half the time I do nothing but man empty phones waiting to solve the occasional critical disaster?

At what point does grey become silver and silver become grey?  Is glossy grey sufficiently silver?  Is dull silver just another grade of grey?

I have a couple of hairs that have fallen from my beard on my desk.  They each have multiple split ends.  It would be SO cool if I could move the split ends like a multi-headed snake or a living flail or something…

I’d love to lie and say I remember anything about it but I was only seven years old at the time.  I remember my parents telling me about the Iran hostages and I remember a few other small details here and there but I have no recollection of any hockey games short of me and a few friends knocking around a crushed pop can on a frozen pond while I was wearing my mom’s white figure skates.  I do remember that I caught a lot of flack for those skates…

The reason that game is revered so much has nothing to do with hockey.  It had everything to do with national pride and morale.  The movie opens with a build up of the events leading to the cold war and all the troubles and events leading into the late 1970’s.  We beat the Russians at their game and people felt that was every bit as important as any other achievement in the cold war.  If Team USA went on to lose to Finland, missing the gold medal, would this win have the same gravity?  Did the gold medal really matter or was the important thing to beat the Soviets?

This was before we started using professionals in the Olympics.  They were just a bunch of college and amateur players who came together as a team for the first time just six months before the opening ceremony.  Imagine a freshman year college team beating the New York Yankees at their peak.  On the other hand, these kids were conditioned for one thing and one thing only, beat the Soviets.  For six months the only thing they did was train toward a single goal.  I’m sure that helped, as did the 10-3 exhibition loss to the same Soviet team just three days before the Olympics started.  So, we sprinted, they underestimated…

One of the things I really liked about the movie was that even though Al Michaels re-recorded all his calls of the game, they used the original tape for the final seconds and the iconic call of, “Do you believe in miracles?  YES!”  To me, that would have been a bad choice to redo.  Kind of like a band doing a cover of an iconic song and royally fucking it up.

People point to this game as one of the many factors in America’s turnaround in the 1980’s and that’s probably true.  Politics, war and foreign/domestic policy have more to do with our SuperPower status but when you can energize the people it’s a lot easier to move.  Economic status has a lot to do with the image and the intangible illusion of morale.

So maybe it helped turn around the country in its small way but did it have anything to do with hockey picking up in America?  Not sure.  Most people attribute the increase in American hockey to “The Trade”.  And that’s an entirely different post.  I could go on and on about him but I won’t right now.  For now, I ‘ll just say it was fricking sweet to watch him light the torch at the opening of this year’s Olympics.  We all knew who it would be, there is no greater Canadian sports figure than The Great One.

Ohhh, ideas…  Lovecraftian hockey story…  The Great Old One…  From the depths under the frozen ice…  No… bad idea…