Going from the cradle, to the grave.

There's a casting of our life in time,  kind of like a death mask of who we were when we pass away, and it exists as really as our time in the present, the past, or that in our future. None of us has the ability to change our past, but we have full control of our now. Our future is determined by our respect for our now.

We have the ability to make a brighter future for ourselves, and everyone around us. We just have to make the conscious effort to do so in the now.

Caring about each other is where we start in the now.

I'm not all dark humor, and here's a poem of lost love that will give you a clue as to who I really am.

I'll be that tree

Growing from the ground you're buried in

As long as I can stand

I'll be the shade

I can provide on an August day

Even now you're gone

I'll sleep at your graveside as long as I can

I'll keep you in my heart

I'll keep you in my soul

I'll keep you alive in me forever if I can

I'll be that tree

That shelters you even in my memory

I'll be that tree

And when my leaves fall

Know they fall only on you

Yeah, I'll be that tree

Roots as deep as the grave you're in

I'll be that tree

Just a place to rest my head, would be the next ill ask.

Just a life together would be nice, as long as I'm asking.

Would you like to place your future with me?

I think it had to happen as a result of the inception of the Moog Synthesizer.

If you actually love music, there's not a genre that's not in your range.

I play several instruments, and I like to get the most out of each of them.

If that means I have to sound like bagpipes or an accordion to get my sound right, so be it.

Well, let's just agree, OK?

Amazing Grace is just one fabulous song!

It doesn't matter what instruments it's played on, or whose voice it's sung from, it's music of a heavenly caliber.

By the way...I'm an atheist.

I will, just in case I'm wrong, give credit where credit is due.

We atheists are like that.

We're willing to be proven wrong.

Just don't use that sheephearder's book of shite as proof.

Get a grip on reality for God's sake!

Isn't that just enough?

Do I have to prove this everyday?

How much lather is enough

To make this shampoo work it's way?

I'd love to lather rather

Than to lose my heart again

It's a Lyx Pro half scale that's meant for much smaller hands than mine.

It is such a delight to play though.

It's a telecaster replica, and it was damn cheap. Less than $100.00 new.

It was damaged slightly in shipment, but still quite playable, and repairs are in its future.

My entire collection of instruments is to be donated to a music department in a school somewhere. My only stipulation is that any student that does well with them gets to keep them as their own after passing their class with aplomb.

I thought that the younger a student is that can be hooked on music, the better. Younger means smaller.

If the only thing I pass on when I die is music, then my life will have been worthwhile.

This wind is much drier, and it's more gusty than normal.

That's the purpose of that second hand. It's there to remind us all how insignificant we all really are.

Go ahead now, and just think about how grand you think you are.

I don't know about you, but I think humility is our greatest asset as human beings.

This is Morris, he's the actual peace frog you've heard tell of from The Doors musical fame.

Actually, he was a gift to me from my mum, who has passed away. She made him in a craft class some 20 yrs ago and he's followed me wherever I've gone since she crafted him.

He's a part of her that lives in my heart that I can actually touch.

Society has changed from when I grew up.

There's no longer a sense of the DYI ( do it yourself), that doesn't require a contract where we hire it done instead.

I think it's more a case of displacing responsibility for the quality of a work than a sense of pride in one's own work.

We've lost the value of our own effort in most of life's efforts. Even in our failures, we can learn from them. It's the effort that we've abandoned as a society that's defined us as lazy reprobates.

Work ethic has ben relegated to our job places, and no longer relates to our everyday lives.

Creativity has suffered in this change.

We no longer write songs, poetry, or prose.

We no longer tell stories of fantasy, or even real history, we just produce the lives that are expected of us by our politicians.

Maybe it's time for a revolution.

Go out and build a fence on your own, plough a field for planting, wright a song, build a race car, plant a garden of flowers, paint a picture, do anything on your own that doesn't involve a monetary agreement with anyone else. You'll feel more human if you do.

Hell, you might even make this world a little better for maybe just one fellow human being in the process.

He was only 10 yrs my senior, and so much a part of my life. His music resides in my heart.

Beloved by nearly anyone he ever met, he had friends from all walks of life. Fellow musicians from all genres, actors, and celebrities, politicians, foreign dignitaries, regular people on the street, he seemed to make all of humanity his friends.

There were many from all walks of life that would travel thousands of miles tust to visit with him for a day at his home for a day.

This kinship was the mainstay of his art.

Bluntly honest at times, as Neil Young might attest, but he cared deeply about all, even when his honesty was offensive to some. One could feel sure that he still loved you. If you were in doubt, he'd probably write a song as reassurance.

Jeff Beck, a good friend of his, and now him...

I'm losing those I looked up to musically at an alarming rate lately.

At least I have their recordings and legacy to hold onto.

This is not as it seems.

It's not a cloud of insects above a tree.

It's an actual cloud above two trees.

Believe me, I'm one of those degenerate musicians.

I got started on a cardboard cutout of John Lennon's Rickenbacher, performing for an 8mm family film in my back yard in Spokane Washington.

The habit has gotten worse since then.

I'm up to ten actual guitars, two keyboards, a banjo, a mandolin, a violin, two bass guitars, and a buttload of amplifiers and recording systems. We're not even including the drum set in the garage, or all the stomp boxes and wah pedals.

Yeah, it's all expensive, but it's my drug of choice.

Talk to your kids, dissuade them from wanting that air guitar. It only leads to creativity, and God forbid...

Intelligent soul he was, just down on his luck.

Kent was his name, and I wish him well.

He so seemed to have his life together, despite the adversity of his situation.

Our conversation lasted for several minutes, but in that short time, I think I made a friend.

We all need a human to touch our souls now and again to make our lives meaningful.

Somewhere in his 20s I'd imagine, but just talking with him for 20min, I'd place him among the more sage in our population.

Seems he's lived more in his young life than we all have the right to impose on him.

I hope the best for him.

I only interrupted his life for a few minutes to see if he was OK.  I think though, that he has his life more together than I do. He seemed happy where he was, and that's more than I can say about myself most times.

Kent, stay dry, keep warm, and continue being the amazing person thar you are.

It's people like you that make waking up for another day worthwhile.

I mentioned that I wondered if he was OK.

I think he let me know that I was ok instead. Our conversation left me feeling better about myself. 

Again, it's all about that human touch.

I hope i meant as much to him in his struggles in life that he has to me right now. Struggles we all have, sharing in a loving way is what we all should do.

Be that person youl'd want to meet when you're down. Make it so.

The rain is still falling in the Portland Metro,  and I'm dry at home now under the gazebo on the deck.

I'm writing lyrics about my life, and this is just one of many.

Im playing my bass guitar for this one. I'm thinking just a bass, and vocal should convey the visceral content of this lyric.

This was a real night in my life:

For my love of life, Cheryl, the blue eyed blond that stoled my heart...this one's for you.

Conduit:

We were naked in our bed

It was my body touching hers

There was nothing we should do

But that hot August night

Was all I ever wanted to have with her

She was so sound asleep

And I thought that the sweat

Between our bodies could be a glue

A way to tell her that I loved her

Now I wish I had that sweat

On that hot August night

If for no other reason

Than to tell her again

That I loved her

We can, or cannot, conduit.

Let's just go to sleep

Naked, and glued together

Forever naked in that bed

And I love you.

It was an ugly night in August heat that my late wife and I were in our bed. The heat, and sweat were stifling, but laying naked with her, I imagined our sweat as I cuddled with her sleeping body, as a conduit that might conduct the love I felt for her as she lay sleeping deeply next to me.

She's gone from me now, but the love still remains within me.

Whenever it's a hot night in the summers I still have, I beg... I beg for the sweat to give me that sweet memory.