Dear God

I enjoy music with a passion. As a child, I wanted nothing more than to be Paul Stanley of KISS. And after watching a few episodes of “Gene Simmons: Family Jewels” I now am glad that I picked the Starchild over the God of Thunder. As a child, the importance of music was a very simple equation. Was it loud? Did it look cool? Does it drive my parents crazy?!? YEESSSS!!! After all, isn’t that the point of rock-n-roll? Rebellion! Down with authority!

As I continued to add on years to my never-ending childhood, I came to appreciate intelligently written lyrics of a well-crafted song. Anyone that could convey big meaning with few words was (and still is) a hero to me. It’s always a treat when any artist, be it music, fiction or non-fiction stories, poetry, or theatre can speak a universal truth and make it sound new and exciting. After all, look at the endless attempts to speak of love throughout the centuries from such greats as Shakespeare, Dickinson, and Justin Bieber!

And anytime a song’s lyrics can still quicken the pulse and create a universal fist pump with primordial rage, then I say “Rebel Yell! MORE, MORE, MORE!!” A great specimen of angst is when John Mellencamp croons: “I fight authority, authority always wins.” It’s kind of a mantra for me. I’ve been told to never question authority yet many a time I have found authority highly questionable. How ironic! How expected. After all, we have doubts for Area 51, the Kennedy assassination, and the accuracy of Miss Cleo’s psychic hotline.

But what about when you question the Authority of authorities? What about questioning God Himself? Certain facets of the Christian faith have made it clear that this is a no-no! “I’m sorry. You have crossed the distinguished boundaries set forth by the wise and esteemed whom have been spoken to by God Himself. You are now to suffer repeated lashings by the Penguin from the Blues Brothers.”

In my day to day living, I am walking a constant line of dichotomy between seeing all the beauty God has created and all the insanity people inflict on it.  Ya gotta love multi-media for constant bombardment of “If it bleeds, it leads.” So you start asking God things like “Hey! Where the hell are you at?” I have no doubt that you can recall an exact moment when you asked the very same question yourself.

In music, it is a reoccurring theme. One of my favorite examples of spiritual anguish is in a song by the group XTC, titled simply “Dear God.” Now I do want to point out that my interpretations of this song are strictly that. MY interpretation. I do not express nor claim to know what, Andy Partridge’s (the writer) spiritual beliefs are. But I am grateful for the beauty I find in the music, regardless. Hey! There’s an idea! Appreciating an individual for themselves and not judging them for having a dissimilar point of view! You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one….

In the song, the star is having a conversation with the Deity. Andy’s lyrics start out like many of us may do in prayer. We do a sort of bartering process. “I have these things I have asked for but I’ll gladly ignore those for something else.” Sound familiar? Not quite the same promises you make if you have been hugging a toilet after a partying binge but close! Time wears on and your prayers have no apparent resolution. Our belief, our trust begins to fade. Hope withers like a dying flower. And usually this kind of prayer is similar to asking your parents for an advance on your allowance. You’re just not quite sure if the bad stuff in your past will be thrown back in your face. “No money for you! You didn’t clean your room!” Shame on you! Performance by guilt! Gotta love it!

Then after what feels like an eternity of silence, we start to step up our requests. We create a better argument for why our prayer should be answered. Something along the line of “Hey! You’re God! I believe in you. I know you can make this all better. This is not like You. Why are You being so unfair?” The deterioration of belief continues.

What the song covers next is something akin to that same child being denied an allowance. In short, a temper tantrum. Depending the situation, some even walk away from God, doubting that He ever existed at all. At this point, we begin to feel the rage, the anger, and the betrayal of being denied what we asked for so sincerely.  We ask if this religious crap is just that. A bunch of lies told to us by would-be authority figures as a way to keep us in control. I’ll let the lyrics tell the story for a bit:

I won't believe in Heaven and Hell,

No saints, no sinners, no devil as well,

No pearly gates, no thorny crown.

You're always lettin' us humans down.

The wars you bring, the babes you drown,

Those lost at sea and never found.

And it's the same the whole world 'round,

The hurt I see helps to compound

The Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Is just somebody's unholy hoax.

And if you're up there, you perceive

That my heart's here upon my sleeve.

If there's one thing I don't believe in...It's you, Dear God.

         One could say that the victim of the song is utterly fed up and completely walking away forever. But I would also like to think that maybe another point of view is that of a jaded lover, jilted by the disappointment. Imagine if you will, an argument with your significant other. Has your every argument always had words uttered in haste, firmly anchored in truth? Maybe it’s all a matter of furious yelling in order to get the anger out. Primal scream therapy. Incidentally, this song was banned by the BBC at the time of it’s release. Andy Partridge (who is a English citizen) received a vast amount of hate mail from the US regarding the song, which questions who does not like questioning authority.

         For myself, I do question authority. I do so on a daily basis. I believe in God with all my heart, but I sure don’t understand the Man’s plan all the time. And a simple walk through Psalms will show the same outcries for help and demands for justice as well. So I see that I am not alone in my questioning. I am following a long line of many who ask why. But what worries me the most are those that don’t ask the questions. Either they have a lot of answers they are not sharing or a lot of questions and are too afraid to ask. Because someone let them believe you don’t question Authority.

Oh, and that whole “O’clock” thang…this is what I found: “O' Clock comes from "of the clock", or "of the hour". So chill, til the next episode.

God:  The most popular scapegoat for our sins.  ~Mark Twain

People see God every day, they just don't recognize him.  ~Pearl Bailey

One, two, three.....

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one,

I was told that good writers will make it a point to write a thousand words every day. Okay, lemme see, where was I? Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-five, sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy

Ya know what sucks? You can’t just drag and extend the words to automatically be continuous like you can with actual numbers in an Excel spreadsheet! Fortunately, there is a word count at the bottom of the page to help me keep my place! So let’s continue. One hundred twenty, one hundred twenty-one, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-three, one hundred twenty-four, one hundred twenty-five, one hundred twenty-six, one hundred twenty-seven, one hundred twenty-eight, one hundred twenty-nine………

WAIT!!!!!!! We have a major problem!!!!!! Do you realize that “one hundred twenty-five” is FOUR words!!!! So even if I type one thousand words, I will end up being over by a ratio of four to one! Damn! Okay, I have no idea what to do now. I mean, I flunked algebra in high school. Which has a central bearing as to why I prefer to be a writer as opposed to an engineer. Of course, I would like to be an engineer. I love trains! But the numbers do me in every time. It’s a wonder I have never been audited on my income tax filings. I guess 1040-EZ was totally designed for EB!

So Halloween is coming, in case you weren’t aware. Warning! Overweight men will be dressing up in spandex attempting to pretend they are Spiderman or Wolverine! Fashion Police, be ready to issue citations!

Speaking of Halloween, have you seen the Snickers candy commercial with the two kids dressed up in a old lady costume hanging out in the candy isle? Am I the only one that thinks this rates as seriously creepy? First, the way the kids reach out and stroke the “What the hell is this ugly creature doing touching me?” shopper’s face screams of Chester the Molester! Second, I know I am not the only one that sees this hideous costume resembling a cross between a reject from “Where the Wild Things Are” and a cracked-out, Od’d leftover from Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”! Now that’s scary! And to think someone gets paid for coming up with those ideas. Or even worse, someone was stupid enough to buy such an idea….Hmmm, wait! I have a new career path to pursue!

Four hundred forty-four, four hundred forty-five, four hundred forty-six, four hundred forty-seven, four hundred forty-eight, four hundred forty-nine, four hundred fifty! So I am actually totally lost on how many words I have written. Have wrote or have written? Is this a classic case of tomato, tomato? Hmm, I just now realized that tomato, tomato loses something in written form. And besides, the Word proofreader says it’s “Have Written”, just for the record. But the good news is I am now over the halfway mark!

I guess if I follow the format I am doing right now, writer’s block should never be an issue. I mean, how can you justify not having anything to write about if all you write about is wondering if you have written the right amount? OUCH! I thing I just sprained my brain. Kinda like when you eat ice cream too fast.

I’ll be going into the hospital soon for a surgery, but not to have my tonsils taken out. I wonder if they will still give me ice cream? Oh well, either way, I know I will get plenty of time to practice on a thousand words a day. I will be big and strong by the time I am released. Then look out world! Stand back, Dave Barry! There’s a new kid in town! (By the way, I think I should not use abbreviated words like “there’s” or I’m” because in the end I am just cheating myself out of words.

Six hundred eighty-five, six hundred eighty-five, six hundred eighty-six, six hundred eighty-seven, six hundred eighty-eight, six hundred eighty-nine, six hundred seventy. Whew! I’m getting thirsty! I need a drink. Maybe I’ll get one of those Monster energy drinks. By the way, why do I see so many cars with a Monster logo sticker on it? Is this some sort of sponsorship? Are these cars making money by brandishing the fantastic Monster logo? If so, this is a good thing because some of the cars I have seen could really use the money! Kinda like some shoppers at Wal-Mart could really use some fashion advice. Speaking of fashion trends, isn’t interesting to see that both Marc Anthony & J-Lo are introducing their own clothing lines? Was this part of the divorce settlement? Or worse, was this written into the prenuptials? Marc gets the house, J-Lo gets a Fiat and you both must sell cheap clothing to the masses!

Eight hundred forty-one, eight hundred forty-two,  eight hundred forty-three, eight hundred forty-four, eight hundred forty-five, eight hundred forty-six, eight hundred forty-seven, eight hundred forty-eight, eight hundred forty-nine, eight hundred fifty. Yea, this ain’t as easy as it looks! But what the heck else am I to do? I mean, this is what you get when you have insomnia at one o’clock in the morning and can’t fall to sleep?

Well, as I look at the word count, I only have eighty words to go. Wait! Seventy-five, seventy-four, seventy three, seventy two. Hey! If I don’t use the dash between words, I double my word count! Kick ass!

So I guess these exercises are pretty helpful! I feel so much more relaxed now. Glad I passed on the energy drink or else I’d be awake for the rest of the night….or morning, since technically it’s now two-o’clock. And for my next blog, I will discover what the “o” means in “o’clock”! Good morning!  

“I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.” – Audre Lorde. So go out today and be deliberate. Be someone wonderful. Be someone who others look at and say “I wish I had what they have!” Go do one act of kindness to a stranger. Live life, don’t let life live you! Drop me a comment and tell me of your good deed for the day.

Who helps the helper?

I have had the opportunity recently to be in contact with several people who are ill, in one form or another. One has cancer and is undergoing chemotherapy treatments on a outpatient basis. One has Ulcerative Colitis and has a serious struggle with incontinence issues. One has a heart condition. Another a thyroid problem.  And another has a 92 year old mother with Alzheimer's disease. Each of the affected have educated me in better understanding their needs and the battle they fight daily. However, what may be left out are the stories of those that care for those who are ill, providing there is someone to care for them at all.
It would be difficult to identify a household that did not have at least one member of the family in some sort of daily medical care. This could be short-term care, such as a damaged limb or recovering from a outpatient surgery to more long-term, like diabetes, or other conditions requiring daily upkeep.
Rising healthcare costs and stringent insurance standards are causing more individuals to take health care home.  For some, this is not too much of a adjustment. For others, it requires a family member  placing their wants to the side and becoming nurses themselves. Doctors use to make house calls. Now the houses are making doctors! Or nurses to some degree.
Those that are ill have their own daily hell to battle on a daily basis. A position I am sure none of us want to trade places with. But often overlooked are those tending to the needs of the afflicted. Caregivers, typically spouses, are also under a increased workload, mentally, spiritually and physically. For some, the stress levels can equal if not surpass those of the unhealthy. Another facet that can add to the stress levels of the caregiver may be that no one is occasionally stepping in to help the helper. While those that are disabled need constant positive reinforcement to boost their spirits, so do the caregivers. None of us are machines. None of us can maintain a constant level of giving without our gas tanks of enthusiasm running low.
So here is a simple opportunity to do something to help your fellow man (or woman, child or even pet!) Take a moment to reach out to someone you know who is serving as a caregiver. Make a phone call to them to tell them they are appreciated. Or maybe more important, serve as a ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on and let them vent their frustrations. Offer to prepare a meal for them. Watch the kids for a night. Anything you can do that will allow Nurse Fantastic an opportunity to remember that they, too, are human and their needs are just as important. Remember that a caregiver may be reluctant to ask for any assistance out of fear of looking weak or selfish. Nothing could be further from the truth! As the song goes, we all need someone we can lean on. Show those who care that YOU care about them as well!

Autumn

A sparrow lies still on my front porch.

It’s mate now sings a throaty, rasping dirge.

Thunder rolls in the distance and lighting interrupts the darkness without knocking.

Autumn closes the eyes of summer.

A sparrow lies still on my front porch.

I wish I would have....

told them how much I loved them.

said what I was afraid to say.

not been so angry.

not taken so many pills.

went to church.

learned to dance.

bought her a coffee.

found somebody with a shoulder to cry on.

remembered to put gas in the car last night.

not eaten that burrito.

more strength to fight this fight.

more time to volunteer.

figured out the secret to life.

thought of that first.

waited for it to go on sale.

not been in such a hurry.

given him some of my lunch.

picked a better time to pick my nose.

seen that Youtube video.

not gotten so drunk.

worn a condom.

been so angry for not being invited.

not posted that on Facebook.

had a son instead of a daughter.

the courage to tell them about God.

And the Beat Goes On

George Harrison sang “All Those Years Ago” and….

You see, this is how it all starts! Now I have to explain WHO George Harrison is to the younger audience, much like Lawrence Welk or Glen Miller had to be explained to me when I was younger. It wasn’t just commonplace that I would unders tand Big Band Swing or catch phrases like “Daddy-O” & “See Ya Later, Alligator”. I would stare blankly back to these strange creatures who claimed to really be members of my family as they would try to explain to me the Louie Prima was the originator of “Just A Gigolo / I Ain't Got Nobody” and not David Lee Roth.

            Here we go again! “Who is David Lee Roth?”, I’m asked. (sigh). Ok, so it’s official. I am getting older. Hard to believe that Ozzy Osbourne and KISS were considered satanic cult music when I was growing up. Now they are just reality shows. (sigh). And I won’t even get into the irony of Pat Boone living next door to Ozzy. That is a trip all unto itself.

            But the changing of the guard is at hand. I have just woken up in the middle of the night to capture thoughts from a dream I was having and suddenly realized that I am getting old! Not because of having to urinate more than once whilst I doze, but because of the shock that I will get the same blank stare from a younger generation when I try to describe the awesome power and primal lust that fills my veins when Led Zeppelin plays “Rock-n-Roll”!

            Granted, I have help in the fact that younger bands will honorably point to Jimmy Page as a major influence in their rock n roll breast feeding. Bands like Foo Fighters or The Black Crowes but then it dawns on me that these bands have been writing themselves into the pantheon of six-string history for over twenty years! Hell, I may even need to explain that Dave Grohl was a part of Nirvana. Yes, they were a music group, not a Buddhist philosophy.

            Granted, I do take solace in the fact that Bob Dylan and Paul Simon are still ranking on the charts. But realize that they are both member of the AARP as well as the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame! I wonder what back stage provisions are written into their contract rider today? Aleve and Geritol? Not that it really matters because they still kick ass without wearing Depends!

            Which brings up another realization. So 70’s groups like the Bruce Springsteen, Aerosmith & even Cheap Trick putting out fresh material keep providing us “new” legacies to cling to, who will be carrying on the torch for the 80’s? Did spandex and hair spray cause a premature end to such greats like Guns-N-Roses or Poison? How about Motley Crue? It is here that I realize that not all wine ages well. Some sours greatly!

Axl, well, I think the corn rows said it all. And if that wasn’t enough, Buckethead definitely put a feather in Axl’s cap! Call it macaroni! Motley Crue went from metal anarchy to bitchy old men, still trying to think they are the next KISS. I give a thumbs up to Brett Michaels for perseverance after some very serious health issues but Poison hasn’t produced any noteworthy music since the 80’s.  Def Leppard? I remember seeing an interview where producer Mutt Lange called Hysteria their greatest hits album and he was right! They have been promoting that album ever since! U2, hands down, keeps the heart of rock-n-roll still beating. But who else is capable of lifting 80’s to a place in history that either still alive or still talking to each other? Or maybe the 80’s need to pass away in a quiet service with a spandex-draped casket….

           

Well, I had to pause to pay a visit to my grandmother, who is in the hospital for a minor issue.  I am now delighting her with my iTunes collection of her favorite music. Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, The Lennon Sisters & more. I am giving her a chance to travel back in time to where “music was REAL music!”, a mantra that seems to be passed on from generation to generation. She loves all music, and she passed that love on to me.

She is almost 93 and has Alzheimer’s. She may have lost some her memory, but thankfully, none of her sarcastic wit (hmmm, I wonder where I get mine from!) She has a great sense of humor and I do so enjoy being with her.

             As the music plays, you can watch her stare off into space, or so it appears, but in actuality she has just jumped aboard a bandwagon that whisks her off to the moment where those songs were brand new. Her time. Her generation. So I understand the inevitable reality that our music will ultimately define us. This is not to say that we have pigeonholed ourselves into being stuck in a certain decade. As much as certain radio stations would have us think we are of narrow mind, I find just as much artistry in music made today as I did in my formative years.

            But maybe that’s the key phrase. The formative years. I can look at almost any generation and surmise what was era they grew up in, not by their age or looks, but by the music they listen to. Although, any man with a mullet is a dead give-away. It is impossible to run away from who you are. There will always be music that will take you back to specific moments of your life. For example, in my generation, if play “Conjunction Junction”, the child in us all instantly responds with “What’s your function?” It becomes a universal password that allows you into the secret clubhouse! Some music will always be marked by the era it was released in. Remember, to party like it’s 1999 was a song of the future once. How about “Chevy Van”, where having a bed in the back did not make you a serial killer?

            But I can safely say that the spirit of music to free your soul and make you want to dance til dawn will always remain. After all, we all want to go to “New York, New York” and see the neon lights “On Broadway”.  Girls will always “just wanna have fun!” and everyone wants to “Rock-n-Roll all night and PARTY EVERYDAY!”

           

And the Beat Goes On! 

Somedays...

Some days I have the world on a string, some days the world has me by the balls.

Some days dreams come true, some days I'm crushed by the falling walls.

Some days I walk in the sun, some days I drown in the rain.

Some days, ignorance is bliss, some days I feel all the pain.

Some days friends are near, some days miles away.

Some days I talk too much, some days I don't know what to say.

Everyday is someday to someone. And you are someone to somebody everyday.

babble on, baby, Babylon

So this is my first blog post. And I am at a loss as to what to write about. I’m still trying to understand what exactly a blog is? Some people get paid to blog. Some should be banned from blogging. EVER! Yes, but I will attempt to do what has never before done in the history of the world, something so grammatically experimental, except for when Tom Lehrer created “The Element Song”, which was really cool AND featured on an episode of NCIS. One of my favorite shows, but primarily because it has Cote di Pablo. Cote, originally from Brazil portrays a Jewish Mossad agent, Ziva David. She looks great confusing idioms in ANY language.

Speaking of confusing language, there is a story in the Old Testament of the bible where people were building a tower towards heaven so they could be as powerful as God. Everyone spoke the same language. When God saw this, he scattered them and changed their language so that they could not understand each other. The place is forever known as Babylon. This is also the origin of today’s legal and political systems. This also explains why you can’t understand your spouse.

Speaking of spouses, from a male perspective, why do women wear uncomfortable shoes? I love reading about history and most of the world was nomadic at one point so you think a comfortable pair of shoes would be priceless! I mean, can you imagine herding sheep all day in a pair of Dolce Vita’s or Bebe’s? Go to a wedding reception. The first thing that disappears (aside from the inhibition to do the Marcerana) are her SHOES! Why wear them if you can’t dance in them! Instead, you see women spend a third-world country budget on shoes that requires a small stepladder to climb into because the heels are so high that an old time lynching could take place from one!

Speaking of lynch mobs, we now see that a lynch mob captured Moammar Gaddafi. Well, not exactly a lynch mob since they had guns but no rope according to the videos posted on YouTube. And as I attempted to watch the video, I had to verify that I was of legal age and sound mind to watch the video of a tyrannical dictator, known to have committed thousands of atrocities during his reign. Irony! The Internet police are watching me.  I wonder if they are a branch of the Dream Police, which the rock group Cheap Trick sang about back in the late 70’s?

            Yes, the 70’s. A decade that will be recorded in the history book for such valuable contributions as bell-bottoms, tube tops, pong and of course, DISCO! Such a contagious disease that even such hard rock evangelists like KISS and the Rolling Stones even had a go at it! Even now, nightmares are taking shape as I have images of Gene Simmons in a white, polyester suit, strutting on the dance floor ala John Travolta-style.

            Speaking of John Travolta, he was apparently denied a table at a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Sussex, England. John was in town to attend a Scientology conference. I wonder if he flew there on his own or had to travel commercial? And oddly enough, John seems to be one of the few Scientology members who has not become a total wacko, unlike Tom Cruise and Kirstie Alley. So is this John’s form of out-of-town indulgence? Way different than the stories you don’t hear about from Las Vegas. What happens in Sussex STAYS in Sussex!

            Maybe I could write about what I do on Facebook, which is kinda like blogging but with a Jerry Springer feel to it. But I don’t care for it much these days because they the changed the formatting around and I can’t locate the restroom and the new chef is just not making a crème brulee like the previous chef. That would be Chef Boyardee, by the way. Have you seen the latest commercials for Chef Boyardee? They make it out to be that he actually had his own restaurant at one point, with people taking home some of his fantastic sauce. Hmmm. Can you say Not Happening!  Yea, I want my enduring legacy to mankind to be that I made a food commonly eaten by broke college kids. At least he was number one until Raman noodles took over the empire.

            And which empire is most noteworthy these days? The empire of William and Kate? The Apple without Steve Jobs Empire? The Republican empire? Well, they can take a break since Sarah Palin decided not to run, but alas, so many comedians are now unemployed as a result of the decision. Where else can we hope to find true leadership in this day and age unless it is a modern day fairy tale of an Alask-CAIN trailer park family! At least Bristol never appeared on Maury asking for a paternity test.

            Speaking of tests, over 60% of Illinois schools are failing to meet US scoring standards, according to the Chicago Tribune. The No Child Left Behind act, enacted in 2002 during the Bush administration, is a valiant battle cry that we do indeed need to make education a top priority in our nation, for the well being of our future. War stories of old speak of invading troops not only pillaging a locale’s treasures of wealth and art but also their citizens of exceptional intelligence. Look at the Jews captured by the Nazi’s and forced to mint money during the war, as told in the movie, The Counterfeiters. Or look at Daniel and his friends in the (aptly named) Book of Daniel. In it, Nebuchadnezzar, who ironically enough, was the king of Babylon, besieged Jerusalem. Daniel and his friends were taken against their will to Babylon to bring prosperity to a nation that was not their own.

            Maybe my first blog should be not about Babylon but more about what we “babble on” about…