Today I don't feel like telling you about who's headlining Coachella..or who's been added to the Grammy Performance line-up. I can link you to 500000000 websites who can give you that scintillating info if you want it.
Today I'm not going to post some obscure video from you tube to cocoon myself in the magnificent safety of reminiscing, while trying to impress 21 readers, most have which stumbled on this site and don't even speak the language.
Today, I'm not going to hype some band who nobody cares about in a half- hearted attempt to rile anyone out of a cultural slumber.
I'm trying to be realistic about the state of things. I'm struggling. I know you don't care. I don't blame you. I have great vision on my periphery, and I know you struggle with your own demons, dillegence and drudgery as well.
Whatever I do in terms of finding steady work..is not working. And I am one of 2 million..doing a daily hustle to uncover some mossy rock to find a 9 to fiver with benefits and an income that allows me to stay one step ahead of fucking Chef Boy- Ar-Dee and his friends Mr. Ramen and an Army of Salvation.
I look at the faces of the faithfully frowning on these grey-ed out street corners. They look so down..they look like erased artwork on a smudged out page. The sound of doors closing behind them and the slushy crunch of approaching dirty buses warmly welcoming them to take a seat among the handout zombies in the flourescent, are the only sounds they hear.
We are all one or two steps from sleeping on them.
The spiraling columns of greed supporting the top 5-7 percent of raging,rabid,lusting billionaires who controlled the mortgages and markets fell in on them and crushed us all. And of course I could be working harder to work harder, but the work isn't there. And there are hours where my soul caves in on the search.
I peek through steel curtains of darkness every day. My love of music and the neverending quest for useless knowledge is both a crutch and a sword. A sunbeam through a keyhole....an exposed square inch of flesh behind the chain mail. I am en guard every minute of every day. I keep looking for the man who voodoo cursed me while I pull another pin out.
I'm one of those show stopping, room clearing guys who could find a cluster of caustic clouds on a July day. And I'm well versed in fuzzy meds and doctoral guidance(?) to know that this day will pass. But my armor has taken so much blunt force...my sister, my job, lack of faith, my unexplained head pain, years of physical labor when I really only want to use my head, the demands of raising a child....the stress feels like swimming blindfolded into a riptide while the ocean is on fire.
I know somewhere my love is strong,one good thing about music- when it hits you feel no pain, it's getting better all the time, I'm chrome wheeled, fuel injected steppin' out over the line, walking out in the morning dew,
livin' easy, livin' free- season ticket on a one way ride, play the tape machine make the toast and tea when I'm mobile, kicking screaming gucci little piggy, it's only castles burning-find someone who's turning and you will come around, I'm a cold Italian pizza that could use a lemon squeezer, hittin on the moonshine- rockin' in the grain, maybe all I need is a shot in the arm.........but not today.