Breaktime

I'm turning off the computers for a week. See you next Friday.

I can't find a replacement halogen bulb for my reading light. I finally decided it would probably be less trouble to buy a new lamp. I went to K MART in Santa Rosa. They have got lots of cheap, Chinese made crap.

There was hardly anyone in the store. They had giant drums of orange things that were supposed to be some kind of food. They had tons of decorative throw pillows. There were lots of empty shelves. So much cheap crap. It looked a poor person's apartment after a burglary.

The section with lamps and light bulbs was mostly empty. The did not have the kind of light bulb I need and they had about six really, really ugly table lamps. I couldn't bring myself to buy one. It was nice to see the place failing.

I was reading yesterday that someone asked Allen Ginsberg what exactly was going on. It was the sixties and some people were macrameing their nose hairs and some young people had admitted to having had sex. Some other people were being "turbulent" about the mass slaughter in Viet Nam or else they were being "turbulent" about being treated like shit, which didn't use to be something you could be "turbulent" about. You are not allowed to be "turbulent" about that again, but for a little while some people were "turbulent" anyhow.

So you can see why some one would be concerned and ask Allen Ginsberg, leading American poet, what was going on.

Supposedly Ginsberg said, "A lot of people are lonely. It is very strange... being in a body."

That makes a lot of sense to me.

Fight Fire- Southern Culture On The Skids (Buy)

I went back to Alameda to see my Dad yesterday. He was in a cranky mood. He wanted me to take him out for pizza. When he found out I didn't have time he started pouting. He complained a lot about how life sucked since his girlfriend, Ellory, died. I really liked Ellory. How she got stuck with my Dad I'll never understand. When Ellory was alive my father used to complain about how life sucked since my Mom died. Sometimes Ellory would interrupt him to ask him if he'd ever had any good times with her. He lit a cigar, stank up the room and sulked. He never once said anything good about Ellory when I was around.

The unexamined life ain't worth livin' friends.

I finally got the old man to put on his oxygen thing. He perked up a little bit but he still wanted me to know that he didn't like some of the groceries that I'd brought him and he wasn't going downstairs because all of those people were old and he didn't like any of them. A lady from the staff called and asked him if he was OK because he didn't come down for lunch. He yelled at her to leave him alone. What a guy.

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I jumped on a bus and made it back to SF for an acupuncture appointment. Acupuncture really seems to be helping my breathing, plus it is strangely psychedelic. After all of the pins go in I feel wonderfully relaxed. I usually fall asleep in the chair. Yesterday I fell asleep and had psychedelic dreams. I woke up with a bunch of needles sticking out of my face and thought, "Jesus. This is realy fun!" I mean it was all fun. The needles were fun. The acupuncturist, Jennifer, was fun. The other people in the room were fun. The chair was fun. The traffic noise from the street was fun. So much fun.

This is my all time favorite sad song.

Who Will The Next Fool Be?- Charlie Rich (Buy)

I got lost in the fog yesterday afternoon. I missed a turn on a back road up in the hills and found myself in the world famous Sonoma valley. The sun was setting, but the fog was so thick I couldn't figure out which way was west. I drove and drove for an hour. I never came to a town. I passed Fifth Street three times and Eighth Street twice. I drove over little bridges with signs that said "Sonoma Creek" at least ten times. I was trying to get to downtown Petaluma. Eventually I found myself driving East, away from downtown. The thing was that I had started out east of downtown and I had never driven through downtown, but there was downtown, behind me.

Eventually, I got turned around and drove around downtown for a real long time and finally found a place to park. California is supposed to have a twelve percent unemployment rate. I think the whole twelve percent spends its time driving around Petaluma, looking for parking places. Petaluma is a beautiful little town. The craziest people in the world live there and I do not mean that in a good way.

I wanted to go to the music store in Petaluma. It is a really classy old store, so packed full of stringed instruments that it is hard to walk around. I heard they had a five thousand dollar Martin ukulele. Sure enough, there it was. Five thousand dollars in a glass case next to a gazillion dollar one of a kind Martin guitar. They weren't going anywhere.

I have a two hundred and sixty dollar Republic metal bodied resonator ukulele. I have always wanted to try one of those fifteen hundred/ two thousand dollar National Resophonic metal bodied ukuleles. There was one of them sitting right there. All I had to do was pick it up and play it. I did. It really didn't sound as good as my little Republic. I liked that music store but I didn't need to spend any money there. I walked out smiling.

I was really going to a meeting of the Petalukes ukulele club. The meeting was held in the Moose Lodge. I got there early and a Moosette tried to convince me that it would be to my advantage to become a Moose. I know she was a Moosette because the Men's and Lady's room doors said, "Moose" and Moosette." A couple of minutes later a couple of guys came in carrying ukulele cases. They saved me from the Moosette. I liked them right away.

Thirty five people ended up showing up for the meeting. Chairs were pulled into a big circle. Music stands were set up. Big notebooks of photocopied sheet music were unpacked along with a whole bunch of ukuleles from brand new cheapo ukes to classy old well loved ones. After a round of introductions and a disclaimer from one woman, "I'm not the 'leader' of the group. The group doesn't have any leaders", we started a wonderfully chaotic sing along. Sometimes the whole group was playing together and most of us were singing. Sometimes half the group was playing and singing at one speed while the other half was half a verse behind them. We weren't singing rounds or anything, we just weren't singing the same thing. Sometimes part of the group had sheet music in one key while the rest of us had it in another.

The group was mostly pretty old, but it was California and they were mostly pretty old hippies so we sang "Ripple" by the Grateful Dead and "Yellow Submarine" by some other band. We tried to do a medley of "God Bless America" and "This Land Is Your Land" but only one guy knew all of the chords and he kept shouting out the changes to us. We sang a couple of Everly Brothers songs. There were several really good players, a bunch of sort of competent strummers and a few people who could barely understand what was going on. It was a big goddam mess and lots and lots of fun. I got to make tons of mistakes without looking dumb. Every once in a while it even worked and sounded pretty good. I showed one guy a couple of tricks to get through some of the harder parts. A couple of people taught me things. One woman told me, "We can only agree to play in one key and that's 'Anar-key'. " I was smiling and smiling.

I did not get lost on the way home. I listened to Shonen Knife and The Monroe Brothers. I kept smiling and smiling. Every once in a while I said to myself, "Jesus. That was really fun."

Fine Artiste Blues- R. Crumb and his Cheap Suit Serenaders- Buy

I don't have a top ten of 2009 list. I don't have anything to say about the decade in review. I spent New Year's day cleaning my house. It was time well spent. I've been camping out here. It is nice to move back into my own house.

This song is 41 years old. I was 15 when it came out. It was "heavy". Play it loud. Like you're fifteen.

Fast Life Rider- Johnny Winter (Buy)

I'll admit, I haven't been working very hard at this thing.

After a week off work I no longer feel sick and exhausted. I just feel really, really tired. This is progress.

Happy Kwanzaa

I missed solstice and it's two days into Kwanzaa, but I don't want to let it pass unremarked. A couple of people have told me recently that Kwanzaa was "just made up". I hate to break it to you kids, so was every other holiday. I can see nothing but good coming from the values and principles of Kwanzaa. You can learn more about them here and here.

Damn, I hope that didn't come across as patronizing, seriously.

Life is funny

San Francisco City Hall, all lit up for Christmas

Let's save our cynicism for better times. A very Merry Christmas to all

Mele Kalikimaka- Asylum Street Spankers (Buy)

Here's a Christmas elf, San Fran style.

Both pictures were stolen from this fine photographer.

Christmas Lights

My friend, Andrew, took this picture of me last week. I won't be driving for Christmas and this, hopefully, has been my last Christmas season at the wheel. I've worked many Christmases. It will be sweet to gather 'round the uketide Elvis tree. Some sadists from the friends o' Bill volunteered to sponsor a 4AM Christmas meeting, so I will be practicing the secret handshake at an unnatural hour, but I intend to go back to sleep shortly afterwards. Here's a few suggestions for those of you who are going out caroling.

From the City of Lakes, where ice surfing has yet to catch on, Minnesota's greatest surf band sends Santa a Christmas wish.

Real Live Doll- The Trashmen (Buy)

From Brooklyn, the borough where hepness reigns, Binky Griptite wishes us a soulful Christmas.

Stoned Soul Christmas- Binky Griptite (Buy)

Some of you are facing a seriously sucky Christmas without job, money or prospects. I've been homeless for Christmas and it sucked. Still, if you are free and not in a war zone you're having a better Christmas than some. John Prine shares a Christmas message from a man in thrall.

Christmas In Prison- John Prine (Buy)

And finally, from Bloomington, Indiana, the city where every Christmas is merry, The Walking Ruins wish you a Happy Hardcore New Year.

Happy Hardcore New Year- The Walking Ruins (Buy)

Go be merry.

Holiday adventures

This image was swiped from the unspeakably cool Invisible Edge

I go away for a few days and when I come back I find out that people have been reading this thing. I've been running around in the three dimensional world.

First, I am in the first week of the seven week pre-retirement vacation. I also just got notice that the large orange bridge, highway and transportation district has approved my paperwork and I am now recognized as a mildly disabled proletarian hero and Stakhnovist of the first order. Just yesterday I was a bum who never bothered to show up for work. It is a damn good thing that I am a recognized gimp because my car is starting to act like it wants money. My car has never wanted a small amount of money. I do not have a large amount of money. My car might be the cause of some terrible health problems before I finally manage to retire. It is good to be able to take off work with only a mild amount of anxiety over job loss.

I am still more than a little sleep deprived. The old timers who have departed for the other shore (retirement) send back messages. One of them told me that it takes about two weeks to realize how tired you really are and another two months to get caught up on your sleep. Yesterday, I got up at an ungodly hour to take a bus to SF a train to Oakland a bus to the island city of Alameda, a cab to South Berkeley a car to Ashby Avenue in Berkeley, a train back to SF and rides in various cars around SF. I tried to fit in a ferry but the scheduling wouldn't work out.

Along the way, I visited my dad in his new assisted living community. It was a nice enough place. The old man was sitting there, unshaved and wearing a dirty sweatshirt. He was sitting at a table with another old gent, quite talkative and 92 years old. Also at the table was a woman who didn't say a word for many minutes. Then she stood up and announced, "It's OK. I'm 95 years old." She grabbed her walker and wandered off. Dad is only 84, but he doesn't seem particularly happy about it. For much of the visit he sat silent and stared into the middle distance. Then he'd get a little smile on his face and say something to me, then he'd go back into his little world. Pretty much the way he's always been, only more so. I'd have to say it was a successful visit.

Then I made a mad dash across Alameda and Oakland to the Berkeley home of Peter Hurney and Pohaku Ukuleles. Peter has just finished several ukuleles. I wanted to try out the new concert sized instruments. I'm looking to buy myself a retirement present. If you've come here from a google search I'd be happy to give you a review of any of the ukuleles that I played. They were all beautifully made and sounded great, but my big, big favorite was a concert sized resonator. First of all, I like the resonator sound. Second I like the sheer "gizmoness" of resonator instruments. The little concert sized resonator was LOUD as hell and pretty as anything. A visit with Peter is a real treat because his ukes are the coolest, but Peter is a cool guy himself. He really likes what he does and can talk about it with great eloquence. He showed me a bunch of nifty graphs explaining the tonal qualities of various woods. He has also just finished putting up an exhibit on California ukulele and guitar makers. He did it in conjunction with the Oakland Museum. The exhibit is on display at the Oakland airport terminal. You can read about it here.

I'll end it there for now. I'm too tired to be writing even though yesterday didn't end until after two AM. The trouble is that today's mad dash started at seven AM.

Here's a favorite Christmas song. Other than the title, it doesn't seem to have anything to do with Christmas.

Archie, the Red Nose Reindeer- Tappa, or if you like, Tapper Zukie (buy)

And remember kids, the axial tilt and the eliptical orbit are the reason for the season.

Let's put the X back in Xmas

Bob Dylan sings a Christmas song that doesn't make me wanna puke. Not bad for a Jewish guy. Speaking of which, Happy Hanukkah to all.

I can't say enough good about the selection of Christmas songs at Big Rock Candy Mountain. I'm just crazy about the world weary sound of Behind the Wheel For Christmas by the Saddle Tramps. "Dashin' through the snow with 40 tons of hay/ Gotta feed some hungry reindeer at a strip mall in LA."

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Xmas

Jesus at the last supper- As reenacted on the planet Whammo.

People got nothin' better to do than complain about holidays? It's time to remind each other that we're not doing it right. Does Christmas, as we know it in these straitened times, blow? Well, fuck yes, but it's probably the best we can do- for the moment anyhow.

In the meantime I find myself buried under culture war alerts. Raging Xtians claim that they are under attack as the "Holiday" marketing scheme seems to be beating out the "Christmas" marketing scheme in the hearts of bean counters down at corporate headquarters. Truly, when even the marketing experts have lost faith in Jesus as an indicator of consumption patterns our nation, indeed our world, is doomed, doomed.

Across town at socially sanctioned beatnik world headquarters, pagan fanatics and pious areligionists point out the fact that there were solstice festivals of light that predate the alleged birth of Christ. Besides which what were shepherds doing out tending those flocks anyway, what with lambing coming up around New Years and all? Christmas it seems is not only ahistorical it's also a total rip off from the beautiful pagan tradition of worshipping trees and sacrificing children to statues.

Somewhere in the middle "normal" people like to point out that Christmas is dreary. I've got to say that it is California cold as hell where I live. It's nowhere near say, Minnesota cold, but in Minnesota people have insulated houses and central heat. Here in Cali when it's twenty nine degrees outside it's about forty in your living room. I'm rapidly running out of propane while my inadequate furnace competes with my uninsulated walls. Outside it's foggy and gloomy and they're predicting a week of cold ass rain. Dreary.

Well yes, it is indeed dreary and once again it is my Holiday duty to point out that gloom and drear are the reason for the fuckin' season. It's cold and dark out there. Put up some fucking lights. Eat some food. Drink if you like. Do it with friends and family. Stave off the coming darkness by spreading a little cheer.

Pesonally, as a Christian, I find the season a useful metaphor for considering the arrival of Christ in the world. That's why I put up the sparkly black Elvis tree, listen to the Christmas tunes and give a few cards and or parcels to select (usually young) loved ones. I like being with bunches of friends and eating rich food too. Not good for the diabetes, but good all the same.

If the Jesus thing doesn't work for you celebrate whatever of the many solstice based holidays you chose. Just try not to be a poot butt would you? Times are hard enough without anyone spreading miserabilism, OK?

Frosty The Snowman- Man Or Astroman (Buy)

For my brother across the waves, Comrade Ib and for anyone seeking religious salvation, consider a trip to Whiskey Heaven.

Whiskey Heaven- Fats Domino (Buy)