R.I.P. Mark Linkous

That's really all I have to say...

Facebook

After some consideration, I've decided that I will not sign up for Facebook. To my cousin in Tennessee, my friends and family in Denver, and my friends and co-workers in Portland, if you wanna get ahold of me, send me an e-mail. Otherwise, wake me when the next big thing hits the market. Maybe it won't revolt me as much as this incarnation of internet bollocks.

Ludditely yours,
Leo

something called 'volcano monitoring'???

Bobby Jindal, Governor of Louisiana and rising star in the Republican party responded to Obama's speech last night with a focus on what he considers pork. He derided the need for volcano monitoring. Who needs it, you know? It's not like there are any volcanoes in America... or are there?



I can see three from my work, Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens. While we're at it, could we rid ourselves of government money for advance hurricane warning? What possible use could we have for something like that?

because it's been awhile

it's raining. it's been a dryer, colder winter than normal for the northwest, more like a denver winter than a portland winter, but without the extreme bitter cold/frigid nights. i guess it's still more of a portland winter, but the lack of more or less constant rain, and the addition of a fair amount of snow (around christmas in particular), made the weather part of the move to the northwest a bit less compelling.

it's raining. it was pouring this morning when i left for work, but it was hardly sprinkling downtown when i arrived. a couple miles, and a world apart.

it's no longer raining. but you can hear the splash from the cars going by. there's something about wet streets, soaked green grass and soft, soggy earth that gives a certain serenity to life. life slows, patience is required, heart beats in time to that sLow song on the radio.

the cats aren't feeling the zen. they're rolling around, claws gleaming in the lamplight, letting out meowls when they get a clean hit. of course they're gone now, the dog in tow, looking on but not daring to get too close.

i wish i had time to pick up the guitar. or the bass... or the ukulele. but i need sleep more than i need a jam session. i hate to say that.

i guess i'm getting old...

I wish, I wonder, I...

sometimes, i wish i had more of an inclination to write. i've been so bad lately at keeping in touch with old friends, be it through e-mails, via this blog, or sending christmas cards (portland got snowed in this year right before christmas, so good intentions weren't good enough). i wish i expressed myself more in writing... like i used to...

but i'm not a writer. my art is music, as it has been for as long as i can remember. and the great thing about being a musician, instead of a writer, is that if you aren't terribly inspired at any given moment, you can still express your art by interpreting another's creation. in writing that's called plagiarism. in music it's called covering. and as long as you aren't trying to make money off of it, or pass it off as your own, it's cool.

and i can enjoy it, and others can enjoy it, and it's all good.

then, when i play my own tunes, songs inspired by others (because there isn't a new thought under the sun), that has its own magic. i can fight with myself, and try to find the chord that makes the sound i hear in my head, and that can be frustrating (like writer's block), but it's a frustration i have dealt with for half my life and that i hope to deal with for the rest of it.

but writing isn't the same. i either over-edit, or let the initial train of thought be the end product (as with this post :) ). and start most of my sentences with "i" or "and" or "but", and fuck-all with fragments and consistent tense and so forth.

I Wonder

i wonder if everyone everywhere is as anxious as everyone i see seems (even the man in the mirror). the girl in the restaurant, the man on the street, the pimply high school kid on the skateboard, they all seem to have the same fear in their eyes. well, not so much the high schoolers, but that's a product of the self-centeredness of that age. but everyone who has to make the money to pay rent, or clothe themselves, or feed themselves... everyone who has a job can only hope to keep their jobs. a couple of my co-workers have been laid off, a few friends have asked if there are any opportunities at my work, and everyday i hope i'm busy enough to feel needed enough to feel secure. and so far, i've been staying busy enough, but i worry the work's gonna run out. i can't say i feel 100% secure job-wise... oh well...

but i am happy...

because i have my music, and i have my health, and i have my job, and a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food (and beer) in my belly. i have a girl i love who loves me, a dog, two cats, an allergy to cats, and drugs for said allergies. there are peaks and valleys in life, and i'm currently here. um, up here, not down there...

just moved to the ghetto...

and i could swear the crackhead on the bus complimented my legs?! sweet...

Hooray Internets