Stroke of Midnight

Writing Prompt: Where were you last night when 2016 turned into 2017? Is that where you’d wanted to be?

Last night the family and I went to Moda Center to enjoy a sold out Portland Winterhawk's game.  Winter hawks is a WHL Hockey team, which is the closest to NHL we have in Oregon. The game was against our closet rival, Seattle, and it was a great game. Even though the Hawks lost 2-3 we still had a good time and  some really great seats. 

The Winterhawks also hosted an after-game New Year event inside the Moda Center complete with ice skating and bounce houses. Being the VIPs that we are, we were able to get on the ice right away and were able to skate the Moda Center's rink. Arthur completely loved ice skating. Marissa and I held each hand we managed to pull him around the rink until our feet throbbed with pain from the rental skates. Of course, this was not enough for Arthur as he was getting far too much attention from onlookers and sliding around the ice effortlessly, he did not want to stop. I took him for another round and we called it quits much to his chagrin and much more to the relief of my feet. 

After the rink we headed upstairs to the concourse and Arthur was introduced to a bounce house. Of course he was crazy about it. They wold let 6 kids on every 5 minutes and since it was already after 10:30pm there weren't many kids around. Arthur was able to go 3 successful rounds in a row without getting out... because he wouldn't get out and the kid running the bounce house was gracious enough to let him keep jumping. 

After driving home though the sleet we got comfortable just about 30mins before the ball dropped. With full bellies and full hearts we all just relaxed on the couch and flipped through the various NYE Specials. Most memorably, Pitbull's NYE special featuring: Snoop Dogg, and various other rappers much older than him including, Tone Lōc, (Not so) Young MC, Naughty by Nature, and Biz Markie. Of course we were all delighted to see Mariah Carey do whatever it is that she did. If your going to screw up lip synching your own music on NYE live TV... you better do it in a never nude suit... or would it be always nude or just nude? Its probably best that Rob Pilatus wasn't around last night to see that. 

We all rung in the New Year sighing at the continued presence of Jenny McCarthy, the extraordinarily bizarre everything of Fergie, and wonder of who decides to book these people. We sipped on Martinelli's and exchanged kisses. It tried so hard to snow outside but it only amounted to slush. I have a feeling that with warmth like we had snow wouldn't have stuck on our roof anyway. 

We have so much to look forward to this year and like most people we are glad we are finally here. Happy New Year and cheers to being exactly where you want to be. 

I Believe in Magic...

Writing Prompt: You have been transformed into a mystical being who has the ability to do magic. Share your new abilities in detail. How will you use your new skills?

"Do you even magic, bro?" 

I can't believe the guy actually said that. What kind of street magician challenges people walking by to do magic? Aren't we supposed to just watch and reluctantly drop a dollar or some loose change and a thank you? In my mind a magician is gentlemanly and maybe even a little mysterious, not aggressive or actively stupid-seeming. Whatever, his magic is horrible anyway, he actually just did that thing where you turn sideways and lift one leg to fake levitate. No dollar for you. 

"I said, BRO, DO. YOU. EVEN. MAGIC?" He said it again directly at me despite the actual crowd of people he managed to stop. These people, by the way, are all throughly entertained by his sub-party-clown magic. 

"No, jackass, no I do not magic. Neither do you." Says, I. 

Self-chuckling about how witty I was to say, jackass, the way I did, I am distracted momentarily from the fact that the crowd of people is really not happy with my remark. Really not happy. I hear yelling and feel a shove from behind with such force there is no time to break my fall. I fall face first in to his wooden tip box and gradually loose consciousness right there on the street. 

Waking up on the street I have no memory of who I am. I have no wallet, no cell phone and no significant idea of where I am. There are people surrounding me and they are laughing. Their eyes are bugging out and some can't contain a genuine look of astonishment as they look in my direction. I am literally just standing on a street corner. Every time I attempt to navigate the street a child bursts with laughter and runs in my direction and every step I take is marked with a group gasp as if I were on a high wire. Panic stricken I ask a simple question to the crowd and it comes across as a hilarious joke. All the people simply repeat in unison exactly what I said to them. "Can YOU tell me where I am? No, YOU stop it. Who are YOU?" The last question puts the crowd in a complete fit of laughter. 

Even though I have no frame of reference for who I am or what is going on I know beyond a doubt that something wrong is happening. When I look down all I can remember of my hands, feet, body and clothing seem normal to me but the outside world has a strange red-tinted glow. I can't seem to escape the attention of people on the street so I wander in to a local library. When I enter the library I notice the red-tinted glow of the street is no longer and the people in the library are about their business paying no attention to me. 

I ask the Librarian awkwardly if there is anything strange about me that she notices or anything weird going on outside but she shrugs and helps the next person in line. Without thinking I stick my hands in my pockets and pull out a dozen roses and give them to her. The filing clerk next to her grimaces with fear as he is allergic to flowers of all sorts and begins to sneeze. I reach in to my coat pocket and produce an endless stream of handkerchiefs of all colors all tied end to end. Feeling very odd about the encounters I can find no other way to console myself than to pull a couple of quarters from behind the ears of a couple kids standing to my left to buy a can of seltzer water. 

A gentleman with a strong mustache makes a beeline for me as I sit in the library lounge with my soda water and expresses how impressed he was with my magic. It hits me like a ton of bricks. Do you even magic, bro? The street magician's voice echoes in my mind over and over again. I was there! I remember what happened to me! I know who I am! As I stumble out to the street in the eerie red glow the crowds approach once again laughing and pointing just as before. The mustached man followed me out but maintained his calm demeanor; he is clearly not caught up in whatever this crowd is enjoying.  

I say the only thing I feel will release me from this strange state of being to the only person who I know will understand me, the mustached man. Do you even magic, bro? He frowns. 

"Surely I do not, in fact I was quite impressed by your magic but now I find you quite odd." He said. 

"DO YOU EVEN MAGIC, BRO??" I scream at the top of my lungs. 

"NO and GOOD DAY sir." says the mustached man who is already being accosted by the crowd. They knock him to the floor and all I see is a light red haze lift from my eyes. 

I realize I am standing in the same place I was before this mystical journey ever happened but this time the magician has a mustache. I drop him a dollar from my wallet and wish him well. I walk to the side of the street to hail a cab and produce a tiny horn from my pocket. *Honk, honk*

Here comes a cab- it works every time.

Bon Voyage

Friends join for the Bon Voyage

A quarter past three

Christmasy colored decoupage

Cut-out varnished memory

Uncommonly calm

Despite the journey ahead

Singing an unsung song

Baggage stowed overhead

This Spring

Brightest reds, deep purples, pink against green

Living and thriving effortlessly

Wind gently passing through

Taking sunny day's heat away

Families with only subtle differences

A garden of them with no master

Cohabiting yet abiding common law

Surviving soundly with one another

Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder

But beauty is deceiving to the unlearned

For weeds grow just as easily

Insidious and comfortable

Roots tie these lesser beauties

Ever stronger to the ground

Their presence multiplies quick

Dull, yellow, and deceiving

Honey bees have no need for their bloom

Weeds exist for themselves

Their milky blood hoards water

Gangly limbs usurping water and light.

I may look upon this garden

And see only flowers

Ignoring the weeds, forgetting their treachery

To enjoy what is only beautiful

Convinced that all things must end eventually

Leave the weeds amongst the flowers

Wheat and chaff amongst sheep and goats

In this garden with no master

I will not water this garden

The soil will remain unturned

And this beautiful Spring garden

Will still remain

But these weeds pull at me

Mocking my ignorance

Flaunting their blooms and spreading their seed

Causing my heart to well for what beauty may be lost

For I know a weed from a flower

Their dry hides and lofty blooms

Flying from other untended gardens

Forgotten lawns trampled under foot

My eyes are open towards this garden

The weeds amongst the flowers

Where once someone placed each plant

Weeds have crept in between and behind

Sons and daughters of neglect and happenstance

They bow below their sturdy patriarchs

Without care for their surroundings

Taking what the flowers must share

Weeds have no alliance and only independence

Would their blooms be gathered together

They may convince any layman of their beauty

Yet they live unto themselves

Forcefully grabbing the trunk of the weed

It gives all of its tail as a slinky reptile it escapes underground

Pull as I may the roots are deep and the roots are strong

This masterless garden looks better for now

Weddings

There are a few things in life to me that seem like unnecessary necessities. Perhaps these rituals or stepping stones once had a context or a deeper cultural relevance, but in my mind they seem due for a freshening-up.  Marriage, home ownership, retirement all seem like the glory of a time past. A simpler time or perhaps a time with less conveniences and less options. The modern single can live successfully on their own, but doesn't marriage sound so appealing? 

Me

What will it take to raise the stakes
To release my heart out to the banks
To dive deep in to sweet love's lake
I stop at the shore to contemplate

For all that you are to me
Your eyes make me see
But strangely enough
It is my own eyes that set me free

Full-knowing my doubt and fear
Yet seeing my own face crystal clear
Fearful, dreading, even more
Of love I have never seen before

Not different to you this smile I bring
But to me it is sharp, calm, and comforting
For I above all know the looks of my face
Now blissfully changed and reflecting your grace

Area Man Finds Job Search More Difficult With Turkey Leg

Nov 27, 2012
The Onion Ripoff

Area Man, Richard Ryer, has discovered that seeking employment is only more difficult while trying to eat a cold Turkey leg.

"Normally I eat all kinds of things when I do my morning research, but with one hand completely occupied it is almost impossible to navigate. I can barely even get to the "etc." section on Craigslist without tiny pieces of turkey skin falling in to my keyboard!"

Ryer goes on to say,"Turkey legs are an American tradition, they should be enjoyed wherever and whenever one chooses. Whether you are unemployed, a minority, gay or all of the above nothing should hold you back. Perhaps Apple can figure this one out!"

The turkey leg is an American staple at outdoor events such as county fairs, Bar-be-q's and of course the big turkey day itself, Thanksgiving. Not traditionally an office snack or a sanitary choice for eating near electronics, but for one American it is clearly another stumbling block that will not  help with a job market that is confronted with new challenges every day.

"It just seems like everything gets more and more difficult. Today it is a turkey leg but next Thanksgiving I may not even have an extra one to snack on." 

Old Man, Life Soundtrack

Our Ghost Hotel- San Diego

Traveling is such an amazing experience. You don't have to hop a plane for 8+ hours to experience the beauty of being a traveler... the beauty is always with you- it is merely the mind of the explorer that recognizes the adventure. In all of my adventures I have found that it is the tiny memories- the silly every day happenings are the things that I never forget. When you actually feel your perspective shift and it tickles- it is a time when change or pushing your own comfort zone comes as a pleasure (often because you have no choice). You accept it and embrace it- it becomes part of your journey.

For me music plays a huge role in signaling these memories. A certain song will come on and I will snap back to a moment in the past as if it were the soundtrack to my life.

Some are really embarrassing- like how I really emotionally connected with Avril Lavigne's "I'm with You," while driving through the Hungarian countryside.

I will never forget when I bought The Who's, Quadrophenia, and my sister, Joanie, Abby,  and Jenny listened to it while taking the coast back from San Francisco. The sounds and effects just seemed so fitting for driving through a forested area especially just outside of Frisco. We all even said that out loud.

Coming home the morning after a night in Hollywood with my good friend, Brian C.  hearing, "Passenger Side," by Wilco for the first time in between The Raspberries greatest hits.

Sick as a dog heading up California coast to Portland singing the Fugees, "Killing Me Softly," with Matty B.

Cactus Garden at Balboa Park

All this to say, I have sealed another beautiful moment in my life this weekend with a new favorite of mine. It kept popping up all weekend; it was definitely an act of iPod but it just suited the weekend. It was a few of Neil Young's older song but particularly, "Old Man." The Ghost Hotel, Zanzabar, Secret Speakeasy, and forgetting to tip the valet. Walking through Balboa Park, listening to the Spreckle's outdoor Organ, the Friendship garden, the self-deprecating magician and the cactus garden. Even driving over the Coronado bridge during sunset Young's high pitched voice carried through. The moment this was sealed, however, was just before seeing Wilco at Copley Symphony Hall I was sitting in the car resting with Marissa before we went to get dinner. Old Young started his song and I couldn't help but to think of the influence he had on the band I was just about to see. So technically if Neil didn't do what he did- I may not have been in that beautiful moment with my beautiful love. It was simple. Listening to Neil Young in a parking spot on an empty city street.

I can say now that I feel lucky and blessed to have these moments but truthfully I know that it is only a whisper of how these memories will shout 10 years from now. Like sewing seeds of happiness for the future- these are the beautiful moments of life. I am so grateful that I have so many more and I hope as your soundtrack builds that you pay attention. You woke up this morning and continued your journey- enjoy the small things as if they were always brand new and if it helps keep that music playing.

Wilco at Copley Symphony Hall

Punch and Patch

Relationship is the only thing that makes perspectives round, love abound, and the truth found. Without healthy ones all that is left is perception painted upon an empty soul.

Kim Conlan -The Indie Peddler

So I know it is kind of funny for one writer to write about another writer. There is that hint of bias, perhaps some unintentional criticisms, or a potential for missed communication. But is what my blog is all about anyway so I will do my best!

Kim Conlan AKA the Indie Peddler has been serving the OC Music scene for now several years. As a musician who has been in her circle of influence and a friend, I have been able to witness about two years of Kim Conlan- The Indie Peddler.

When I first noticed the Indie Peddler popping up around FaceBook as a self proclaimed writer of music admittedly I was skeptical. Artists, in my opinion, are never super keen of the rouge blogger with an agenda or the fledgling writer who can't stop saying how "bad" or how "badass" your art is.

Kim was neither of the two. As the Indie Peddler her writing style instantly captured me as poetic. The descriptions of events that I witnessed and participated in were reproduced in to text with a sort of magic and enthusiasm that I hadn't felt before.

Kim has her own perspective and is not afraid to share it. The best part is, it doesn't end there like it does with many people.  Conlan goes above and beyond to support the music she believes in. She is always around. 

Even more than that, she uses her writing ability and her artisan-ship to create books and tapes that promote her favorite local artists. For me, these are priceless keepsakes. Mementos from years of hard work and amazing adventures.

Special gifts like this, that require significant thought, patience, and devotion are extremely rare and should be celebrated. Kim Conlan, you humble Indie Peddler, thank you for all that you do. You are an irreplaceable piece of Southern California music and simply a joy to know.

The Indie Peddler will be releasing Volume II of her compendium of OC Musical moments this Saturday August 6th 10pm at Costa Mesa's La Cave Restaurant. Local acts: Charles Mansion, The Danvilles, and Stanley Lucas Revolution will be performing for free and copies of Vol II will be available for $5 each.

https://www.facebook.com/justin.deckert#!/event.php?eid=121359941287891

Multi Car Discount

So for those of you that know I sold my 1971 VW Bus last week. The majority of the reasoning was just that it made no financial sense to have a dream car taking up insurance cost, maintenance cost, and so fourth when I have no time or money to really fix it up.

So, reluctantly, I let it go. One of the upsides was that I thought I could expect a lower insurance premium since I have one less vehicle to cover. Nope. That is not the case.

Insurance companies encourage multiple car ownership by offering a multi-car discount. Had I known this I may have kept my bus a sitting. Why? Because my daily driver + the bus had a premium $100 less than just having my daily driver on bare-bones insurance alone. After multiple quotes I am stuck with paying more for insurance. What a drag.

Everyone knows insurance companies are a racket and they are now finally on my big long list of, “American establishments designed specifically to impoverish and condemn the young and hopeful.” 

Black Country Communion

Black Country Communion

Live Show Review

City National Grove of Anaheim

June 10, 2011

Black Country Communion, the world's most recent super-band, is currently on their debut tour across the United States. Comprised of pseudo-legendary talents such as Glenn Hughes of Deep Purple, Trapeze, and Black Sabbath, (Bass/Vocals), Joe Bonamassa of several popular collaborations and solo albums, (Electric Guitar), Derek Sherinian of Dream Theater (Keys), and finally the cream of the collabo, Jason Bonham, son of the Legendary Led Zeppelin Drummer John Bonham (Drums). 

Pseudo-Legendary is not meant to be an insult to these monster talents. Each one in their own right shines brightly in this unexpected rock megalith. Hughes hits the incredible high notes and flipped-up bass fills, Bonamassa cranks some seriously arpeggiated glam-rock solos, Bonham does his damn Bonham thing and Sherinian has some really impressive solo sections. Over all this is a musician's band and band for those who simply care about nothing else but rock.

Namely the band is rather misleading as one may expect something in the Black Country, Country genre, or at least a Stevie Ray Vaughn Rock/Blues with a twang, but alas this is not the case. Black Country Communion is your father's Audioslave: Amazing musicians playing generic rock that is too busy rocking to innovate. BCC is pure entertainment.

Shredding Flying-V Glam-Blues isn't the only entertaining thing you will likely see at these shows. You know those hippies that got jobs and went to college instead of doing drugs and living in their mom's basement? They will be there. Either with bald heads or unapologetic mullets. Who will they be with? Some will bring their obviously square wives with their over sized earrings. Some will bring their "musician-friend" who has a greasy grey skullet (balding mullet)and a Bonamassa T-shirt. The others will bring a fellow "dude" to have a few beers with and rock out.

Perhaps I am too quick to judge off of the one show I have seen, but I can assure you, guys, there are no women at this show. None at all. If you are ready to experience beer-drunk 50-something party dudes screaming, "I love B.C.C."- You are going to the right show. If you want to catch one of Bonamassa's slick red guitar picks- you are going to the right show. If you want to see some incredibly talented musicians play unmemorable (besides the ringing in your ears) rock- you are going to the right show.

Ironically enough this sound seems to translate very well over the pond. BCC's self-titled debut album, released in September of 2010, charted at #13 in the Official UK Top 40 Album Chart, #1 in the Official UK Top 40 Rock Album Chart and #2 in the Official UK Top 40 Indie Album Chart. Their second studio album produced by Kevin Shirley who produced for Journey, Iron Maiden, Rush, and Led Zeppelin is expected to explode by the end of June 2011.

My recommendation would be to check out the website: www.bccomunion.com and listen for yourself. If you love what you hear- you are in for a hell of a show. If not, join me a collective head-scratching as we wonder together how such super-talent still can't quite get our feet tapping and our fingers snapping. 

 

Black and Light

Do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them; for it is disgraceful even to speak of the things which are done by them in secret. But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that becomes visible is light. Eph 5:11-13


Eventually a choice will be made between those who honor themselves and others and those that just pretend to. Anyone can get around in the dark without light but compared to the potential of what one can do in the light there is no comparison.


Making a mistake does not put you in the dark. Everyone screws up. Owning and reconciling those mistakes, however, is the only way to lift your head. The truth only exists in light and both are tangible and physical. Without them there is no life. 

Unknown Sabbatical

After spending a time away I have just realized. Wow, I have not written in such a long time. Realizing this happens to me every once in a while I told myself out loud, I need to write. Shortly after saying that in my relaxed state I realized, no. I want to write. Writing has meant so much to me in this adult life of mine. Why would I take a break? Well... let me see.

There are so many good things I can think of that have actually hindered me from writing. In the past writing has been a way for me to connect with my thoughts and I have had the blessing to know people who actually care to comment and share in my thought life. My idea of a good time is having people react, relate, agree or disagree with my thoughts. Lately, however,  I haven't been involved in this public thought sharing mindset. My artistic expressions lately have morphed and social outlets have simply changed.

One shining example is the fact that I have an amazing woman in my life who I talk to for hours a day. My dreams,  concerns, thought, opinions and feelings have an immediate and supportive ear to rest on every single day. Marissa is my sound board, she is my partner, and someone who I believe in and trust. So naturally, the idea of tossing thoughts in to cyber-space have almost completely lost their subtle appeal.

Another great thing is that I recently moved. Well, in November. But still this has been a contributing factor in my delinquency. Now I live on my own in an amazing little place where I can hang my hat. It is a converted studio (AKA a garage) that has a full bath, kitchen, and living space. It can be a little cold without a heater but I have a great space heater and a nice wall AC for the summer. I love living on my own and, might I add, in such comfort and simplicity.

Thirdly, I have recently acquired an additional job. Both of my day jobs are completely computer-centric and I am sure any other office stiff like myself can understand.  Computer screens have little appeal after spending 10 or so hours a day plugging in words and numbers.

Billy Kernkamp is the final great thing that has taken me from writing. This band I joined over a year ago has been pleasantly playing consistently, recording, and networking since August of 2009. We recently had the pleasure to open for the legendary John Doe at Detroit bar in Costa Mesa and have a show lined up in February at the House of Blues in Anaheim, Ca.

So normally I would try to make myself feel bad for neglecting my "soul," my personal "art," and "passion." But this time I am not, my soul is in overdrive and my passion has increased and my art is becoming more and more of who I am and less of what I do.

The things I do and the people I love have been beautiful and  I can only pray that the palette I am mixing will continue to color this world the only way I know how.

So in retrospect it really hasn't been much of a sabbatical but more of an unknown surprise. Life has to surprise me, once the celebration leaves then what kind of life is that? You can spend a whole lifetime trying to avoid surprises or you can just enjoy the surprises. This is where I want to find myself and the people I love. In the middle of a constant life-long surprise party where everyone is always invited.

Jonathan Richman @ Detroit Bar 12/9/10

Remember that scene in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory where Gene Wilder as Willy is introduced? Wonka meekly walks upon a cane toward the suddenly silent crowd, stops, and does a somersault as his cane stands impossibly behind him. Wonka's masterful entry perfectly mirrors the awe Jonathan Richman inspired at Detroit Bar last Thursday night.

Jonathan Richman is a master of entertainment. After 40 years of writing and performing all around the world this muse has perfected the art of leaving inspiration in his wake. Richman’s empty stare and upturned eyebrows compliment his half-cocked neck and the fact that he is simply holding a Nylon-strung acoustic guitar with no shoulder strap.

           

Amidst several guitar spins and casual sashays away from his vocal and guitar microphones, Jonathan meekly walks through his songs without flaw. Each one of his songs possesses a quality of freshness, as if he is covering his own songs in a new way just for the moment. Backed by Tommy Larkins, his long-time friend and drummer, Richman plays through an entire set of his light-hearted and often-comical music followed heart-to heart and beat-by-beat by the rest of the room.

Under some strange spell Jonathan walks to the edge of the stage periodically and begins to dance to his own music. When he isn’t dancing he is grabbing his jingle bells or cowbell to ring out some rhythm for his audience. He sings a song in French and also a song in Spanish as if there were any further way to accommodate the audience. In stereo, laughter is heard when a particular verse exposes Richman’s sardonic side and a chorus when a familiar song is played.

During no point of the night is there a break, a distraction, or a moment that allows anyone in the audience to break their concentration from Richman’s far-off gaze. Not often is there a moment in a concert that offers such wonderful simplicity and intimacy on top of the honor to see a true legend perform.

           

What is Richman’s secret?  Surely anyone can pick up a guitar and sing to impromptu chord structures with an incredible drummer. Well, not really, but what makes the difference from him to anyone else? If I had to guess I would have to say: pure imagination. 

If you want to stay up to date with Richman I stumbled upon his Unofficial Fan Blog that has show dates, fun facts, and other such cool things.