Moved Brightly...

Excuse me while I ramble.

I've always believed in the healing power of music. Never being able to master any musical instrument, having the vocal skills of a manatee(which hasn't improved since the rasp developed due to all my COPD & emphysema meds) and the inability to keep time which hampers hopes of something as simple as bongos I focused my energy toward becoming a world class listener. In 57 years I've gotten pretty good. I hear some amazing stuff.

I remember listening to a Keith Secola CD that I basically knew by heart in Houston once when I heard more things than I 'd ever dreamed possible. Of course the doctors at the Houston Medical Center were worried I'd had a heart attack during a procedure to inflate a stent into place and by gosh they'd popped me with more morphine that I thought possible. I felt no pain and my ears worked good. I mention that in passing only to prove my extreme listening skills. If the XGames had a listening event I'd be the equivalent of those kids on BMX bikes that fly through the air to nail the perfect purple twisty ridge walk into a modified quad buckle duplex ending in a red dew bull mondo-sizzle.

In my life I've had the extreme fortune to listen to same amazing music.
I met Johnny Cash.
I saw Willie Nelson on a flat bed trailer in the garage of a Ford dealership with Jimmy Day on steel.
Sat on a hill in the rain at the Ozark Mountain Folk Faire watching folks like John Lee Hooker, Mance Lipscomb, Manson Proffit and others
The all night tribute to Earl Scruggs at K-State
I've met Doug Sahm and seen him in some of best long gone dives in Austin
Was revived by Boss at Memorial Hall on a hot June night with Markle less than a week after youthful indiscretion nearly cost us one of our own
Traveled miles and miles through ice, snow, heat, darkness to see the Dead about 20 times(which isn't a lot, but each time was a treat)
Been to Winfield once or twice

Starts to get pointless trying to list it all, but I've seen lots of great music, listened to more on records, and have found comfort in seeing friends become semi-big deals doing what they dream of doing with a living playing music...

Which brings me to this week.

The last week was just one big burnt donkey(insert profanity or scatological term of your choice here)sandwich with a massive side serving of Oh, f____ with extra WTF sauce. Not to go into all the details or rehash dookie that happened but won't change anything with the recounting, let's just say I was professionally embarrassed,  mistreated, and whizzed on which left me puzzled, depressed, bummed, confused, etc, and on and on and on. It is what it was and it left me struggling to find a path through it and move on. I'm no idiot and during all of it I never even considered bridge burning or stomping off or having a tantrum or cashing in.

However,  I was in a daze. It was one of those funk filled places that make it hard to breathe and your eyes sting. If you drink it is the place that makes you drink more then wake up needing to have been at work several hours ago. It is that hole you find yourself where you are happy for that little girl in the well in Midland or miners trapped a mile down 'cause their situation will only get better.

Get the picture?

In the last 15 years since the infamous "Smack Down Mania of '97" I've gone through a change or two. Not only was I allowed extra time that I wouldn't have gotten if I'd been born in an earlier time, but I had the time for reflection, study, and the gift of learning that has gotten me in touch with notions of peace I hadn't known before.

Like the laughing dude teaches all of everything is interconnected, your best teachers arrive when least expected, because of that this, and don't take yourself too seriously. In times of difficultly, death, and depression the lessons and truths you can see on a clear day are obscured by your fog of confusion. No matter how you try there are days when reality defeats all of your best intentions and the quicksand of your demons keep sucking you deeper into the quagmire.

...and now Friday.

Hotter than hell. Impossible to breathe. At work I fought with the webpage to update a volleyball schedule and when I left at the end of the day suddenly I found I'd lost several hours of work but I've got no idea how.

For the last few weeks our internet connection has been sporadic at best. Some days even checking email has been impossible. I was looking forward to a weekend without access to all my blogs and funny stuff I depend on to keep laughing. I was bummed and tried to take a nap knowing Carson would have a bunch of her friends over to spend the night for her birthday which always leads to a lots of screaming, screeching, laughter, and nerve racking running in the house and barking. (not the little girls, they're teenagers, but the dogs that yap non-stop when the Emilys, she-Riley, and Pamela visit. My theory is they get excited because the girls all make 5 or 6 "costume changes" which confuses the dogs' tiny brains making them think there are dozens of different girls here.)

Around 7 PM Haidee tells me that AT&T says we have line problems beyond us and they did some kind of maintenance and bottom line we have internet back. I log on to check mail and I have my daily email from Rolling Stone Magazine. I have a life-time subscription I paid 40 bucks for 10 years ago. On paper it is until October 2055 when I turn 100 but at that time I have the option to renew for free. I'm reading it and there is something about click here for information for Deadheads. I click.

The Dead...I first heard of them in late '67 and knew they were a San Francisco band. Danny Bryan's big brother had records by the Dead, Quicksilver, the Airplane, Steve Miller, and the Doors. I didn't really become a fan then because I was totally enamored with, "People are Strange" which I thought was the most incredible song I'd ever heard. At 12, obviously  I didn't get all of its message but I related to folks not understanding me. I probably didn't pay much to the Dead again until the fall of my junior year. It was great fall for music.

The year before I'd made the friendships that are still important today. I began hanging out with folks that I am still in touch with today. I was a year older than most of my classmates  in school due to starting kindergarten when I was almost six. When we lived in Graford most Texas  small schools didn't have kindergarten. It pissed me off. Before with left Aberdeen I was already scheduled to start school in the fall of '60. Not getting too was just one reason as much as I loved living in Graford I felt cheated at the same time.

My sophomore year I started hanging out with Lafond who was in my homeroom, who lived around the corner from Goodell who was in my theater class(and introduced me to National Lampoon)David was  friends with neighbor Jay Wilson and they were friends with Stratton and Henson(who I never connected with our principal, Dr. Owen Henson, until one fall evening hanging by the fence at the Hayden football field watching another friend, Larry Zarker play football) and to this day we all stay in touch. That core has supported me for 40 years. When we are together even if we haven't seen each others in ages we might as well have been together the week before. As many as possible gather for the annual FreeState InterFaith Council conclave in Winfield at Simplicity Base.

By the fall of '72 I knew how to take care of records. I'd started listening to  a late night show on the FM station out of Lawrence called TBA. It exposed me to much new music. One of the bands was the Dead. I was open to listening to almost anything. Tom had what I considered a great record collection. He very kindly allowed me to tape some of his records so I could listen to them. Once of those records was Skull & Roses.

Even today that is one of my comfort records. Bummed out, pull out some Dead. Other than Doug Sahm the Dead and all the guys in the band make up a massive share of the music I listen to. Because the music of the Dead is so easily obtained for no cost and is available everywhere due to the bands hippie attitude about not owning the music once they play it...well, what do you expect.

At the website I find out about a streaming tribute on Friday, August 3, starting at 8:30. I have an hour until it starts. Honestly I didn't expect the stream to work. After 3 weeks of junky internet I couldn't convince myself it was actually fixed. Couple that with my luck the rest of the week and my expectations weren't very high.

I got online, first with one computer, but the sound wasn't very good. I got hold of a different lap top and put my high dollar head phones in and cranked it. To begin I had some difficulty so I missed a little of the documentary and settled in and was ready for what I figured  would a two hour special. I figure in my haste I missed that it was previously recorded. Obviously the Lukas Nelson section was pre-taped.  Then it switched into the show from the studio.

Well....about all I can say is DAMNNNNNN!

The sound was awesome the mix was great. The cameras focused on the players and I had it loud.

Most of my life I've believed in the serendipity of life. Stuff works out. Everything is interconnected. Music heals. I know that. Music can be trans-formative and often is. Existence can be magical. When it happens all you can do is smile and let that joy flood over you. I think  enlightenment is possible. There are those moments when everything is aligned. When as, Thich Nhat Hanh says, manifestation occurs when all conditions exist. Musically I've known it listening to Bruce, Al, Willie, and possibly most notably once listening to Stephen Bennett.

Friday night and at what point I couldn't tell you, I got the cosmic smack up the side of my head. I found myself thinking about the many times music has touched me. I thought about everyone of my friends I've ever shared music with, I was overwhelmed by thoughts of family, Haidee & the kids, the joy of music, those that are gone, old girlfriends, lovers, and so much more. I reviewed times of incredible happiness and the worst of despair. I let the music carry me wherever it wanted. I thought of the late Dr. Lee Lispenthal who inspired me and shared his love of rock & roll with me and I recommitted myself to enjoying every sandwich. It was crazy wild.

As part of working through being passed over for a promotion I knew at some point I needed to let go and acknowledge how hurt and angry I was. I guess you could say I hadn't grieved. With all my health junk I try to keep my chin up. It isn't denial exactly but a way to cope, flawed as it might be.
I looked at Lesh and I thought, dang, he is 72. I remember once as a kid watching a Grand Ole Opry package show in the 60's seeing these old honky tonk  guys that were old men but still able to come out and sing a handful of hits and I thought what will happen when folks like the Beatles and Stones are senior citizens. Well....Lesh held up okay and so have lots of others.

Listening to the show was so much fun and I was having such a good time I barely noticed I was crying. Darned if I wasn't. I focused on how good it felt and I smiled thought, shit, the stuff I'd focused on that pissed me off so bad, didn't matter for squat jack dookie.

I settled in and grooved on the music, played air drums, sang along(I knew the words to every song) and because of the camera work it felt like you were right there. You felt like a witness to the joy the players were feeling. It was a thing of beauty.

Then next thing I know it is 5 hours later, 1:30 a.m. and I'm buzzed as I've ever been. Trust me in my life I've known buzzed. I had my focus back on what mattered. I was filled with the buzz that music is supposed to give you. I was wide awake and didn't go to sleep until after four. If it had been possible I would've hit Por'e Richard's when I got back in town and had about 4 cups of coffee and watched the sun come up, crashing only when I finally slowed down later in the afternoon and slept for 24 hours.

Thank god for music, friends, family, loved ones, transformation, the Dead, and Jerry. By golly I was moved as much and as brightly and I couldn't be more happy.

I warned you I'd ramble.

I can't wait for the audio to show up so I can download and listen over and over obsessively.