All the Bells. All the Whistles.
I am into humans.
Humanity.
People.
Through time.
In space.
Imagined.
Real.
Persons.
All of us,
and groups of us,
and groups of groups of us,
and those of us
who are all alone
in the quarry of query
known as
"intelligence".
You.
Whoever YOU are,
or were
or will be...
You have a story to tell,
I know you do.
Me.
Whoever I am,
or was
or will be...
I have a story to tell,
I know I do.
Mind.
Body.
Experience.
Knowledge.
Communication.
Religion.
Art.
Family.
And so the circle grows....
Identity.
Politics.
Law.
Science.
History.
Music.
Biology.
Anthropology.
Psychology.
Cosmology.
Invention, creation, emotion, passion,
Wit
Cunning
Cruelty
Beauty
Fascination
Fixation
Falsification
Honor
Loyalty
Words.
Books.
Books about words.
Books about books.
Words or books
about nothing
at all
(T'was brillig
and the slithy toves...)
or everything at once -
(Let there be light)
- like music
(Hallelujah - Hallelujah!
Halle-e-eh-luuu-ya!)
I am interested
in the way everyone
does
(and thinks about -
and thinks about doing)
everything.
Everything, that is,
except sports, perhaps.
(But.. that's another story)
My first Real Jobs (TM)
were in call centers.
I GENUINELY like talking...
to almost everyone.
I even kinda enjoy talking to jerks
I hate talking to.
It's a curse.
It's a blessing.
[Today....]Today
I spent an hour with two young siblings.
Boy, 12
Girl 14.
I was interviewing them.
Somewhere near the end I asked,
"So, what is the largest crowd you've played for this year?"
She answers, "Not Redrocks.... that's only 18,000.
The Gorge? That was like 25,000 at least."
He answers, "Telluride. Definitely."
In a stage whisper she follows up,
"She said THIS YEAR
Telluride was before the pandemic.
2019? Old.
This year, I think it had to be the Gorge."
The boy nods confidently,
"Ok. Yeah, this year? The Gorge."
Not their show,
just a big show at the Gorge Amphitheater, for reference.
Their dad's sister
(their paternal aunt)
is somewhere between Famous
and Very Famous
right now.
She brings her niece and nephew onto stages
all over the country.
Sometimes she sings with them,
sometimes she has them take the stage
alone.
Big. Stages.
When I showed them around the studio
they both went,
simultaneously:
"O MY GOD!
DANIEL TIGER'S TROLLEY!!
Can you take a picture of us in front of it?!"
[Yesterday]
Yesterday
I interviewed one of my co-workers.
He's worked for the organization for 40 years,
and loved it.
He had a story where he was flying in a helicopter
over an active volcano in Mexico,
holding onto an interior rail
AND his boss...
while his boss leaned out the sliding bay door
with a camera getting the shot
they wanted for a volcano/ring of fire documentary
they were making.
If he followed his heart,
he would have tried to be a music producer,
but TV production
is a career with a paycheck,...
unlike being a music producer
in a small city.
Afterwards, I went to the radio station.
I was covering my friend's show.
He does a very wide-open show.
So I did a wide-open show.
I played excerpts from Caddyshack
"Big hitter, the Lama..."
and British Beats
80's Irish Punk
and 90's comedy ska
and newishethereal harp music played by a beautiful living elf
I play '40s R&B .
I had callers,
One was a regular.
"Hey! Is that you?! You're on the wrong night!"
He's an old hippie with several martial arts blackbelts,
and stories about surfing in Baja in the 1960s
and how he built a snowboard apparel empire
from his home workshop
+ cannabis growing barn.
He tells me that he was recently contacted
by a local tribal elder
about the ghostwork he does on battle massacre sites.
I judge not,
let I get my ass judged.
I don't know what is 'real'
and I don't pretend to.
Ghosts. Aliens. Trolls. Fairies.
Horoscopes. Gods.
No gods.
String theory.
Hypercubes.
Nessie.
Performance Art.
Sure.
Believable.
Why not?
All of them.
None of them.
I really don't have an opinion,
but I think it's all fun to think about.
Oh, humans
and your wily ways!
Theology, epistemology, ontology, occultism,...
but I draw the line
at Reaganomics.
The day before -
[Wednesday!]
Wednesday -
I edited an interview with a singer/songwriter from New Mexico
who told me a story about how she was desperate to leave
her too-small town
so she applied to Julliard
because she loves music
and dreamed of New York.
She was accepted,
but no one in her immediate family
had been to college.
They were poor
and they didn't know how scholarships worked.
So she joined the military
to get her out of there.
Deployed to war,
she sang songs at the on-base coffee shop
in Qatar,
some covers,
some originals,
keeping herself safe
and sane.
I am editing,
so I am listening to this story
over and over...
She does this thing where she goes,
"Ummmmmmm...."
and clicks her tongue
when she thinks.
I am editing out dozens of these.
After leaving work,
I dropped by the radio station.
Old friends were having an
in-studio on-air party
as a farewell
to their show
which ran for over 12 years.
The band was four people,
who have been playing together
for 20+ years.
They told stories
and laughed
and played
and played
and played.
Lots of people got to listen in
on the radio,
but I got to go right in the building
and be welcomed
and scoot behind their chairs
(even in the booth, live on-air)
looking for a spot to stand
and take pictures.
I BELONG.
Afterwords, half of us grab a beer.
They're all silvered hippies.
Fun to talk with.
One points to the other
and looks at me,
"Did you know he was a monk?
He was even friends with John Lennon
and George Harrison for ages!
He was a Hare Krishna sorta guy!
Can you believe it?"
The other guy looks annoyed and goes,
"Sure, didn't we all go through that
back then?"
"Not like you did, man!
A MONK!!!"
He laughs and laughs and laughs.
I told stories about when I worked
as a night desk receptionist
(professional watcher/communicator/situation de-escalator)
at a mental health facility
specializing in schizophrenia.
This usually makes people either back-off FAST
or lean-in CLOSE
because schizophrenia
is a social taboo.
They leaned in.
Close.
The former monk's brother
has schizophrenia.
There are stories that only make sense,
if you KNOW
and LOVE someone
who suffers schizophrenia.
Same goes for bi-polar disorder.
We all talk
until the waitress has
put all the chairs
on all the tables
and stands at our booth
with her arms crossed
silently begging us
to leave.
[The day before was Tuesday.]
Tuesday,
at work I cancelled a Christmas Concert
I had been organizing.
We had a local cathedral donating space,
we had the 14 piece brass band almost hired,
we had a 12 person crew to call,
and one happy development executive
ready to send out invitations
to our "most supportive" donors.
Plop.
Nope.
Not going to happen.
Everyone is disappointed,
but whatyagonnado?
Ok.
After work I am at the radio station for my show.
I am playing 1950s rockabilly
from only Pacific Northwest musicians.
Why?
Because I can.
Monday?
I don't know what I did Monday.
Too much has happened in the meantime.
The point of all this was...
how THRILLED I am
that a good portion of my day
any given week
is doing a personal interview,
and attending very small private concerts.
For two weeks in August, it was 5 concerts a week.
Just the band and our crew.
We are the audience,
and we are working
but work is fun.
They are not just practicing...
it isn't a rehearsal.
It's a full-on performance
with them giving their all... their best.
All the bells and whistles.
Sailor is running an art show and sale this week.
Busy, busy, busy....
he's finishing carving projects
while organizing food, drink, education, and generalized merriment
under the auspices
of ART CRITICISM and JUDGEMENT.
Life has been busy these last two months... three months.
I've hardly posted since coming back from Italy in late July.
But it's been fun.
Humanity.
People.
Through time.
In space.
Imagined.
Real.
Persons.
All of us,
and groups of us,
and groups of groups of us,
and those of us
who are all alone
in the quarry of query
known as
"intelligence".
You.
Whoever YOU are,
or were
or will be...
You have a story to tell,
I know you do.
Me.
Whoever I am,
or was
or will be...
I have a story to tell,
I know I do.
Mind.
Body.
Experience.
Knowledge.
Communication.
Religion.
Art.
Family.
And so the circle grows....
Identity.
Politics.
Law.
Science.
History.
Music.
Biology.
Anthropology.
Psychology.
Cosmology.
Invention, creation, emotion, passion,
Wit
Cunning
Cruelty
Beauty
Fascination
Fixation
Falsification
Honor
Loyalty
Words.
Books.
Books about words.
Books about books.
Words or books
about nothing
at all
(T'was brillig
and the slithy toves...)
or everything at once -
(Let there be light)
- like music
(Hallelujah - Hallelujah!
Halle-e-eh-luuu-ya!)
I am interested
in the way everyone
does
(and thinks about -
and thinks about doing)
everything.
Everything, that is,
except sports, perhaps.
(But.. that's another story)
My first Real Jobs (TM)
were in call centers.
I GENUINELY like talking...
to almost everyone.
I even kinda enjoy talking to jerks
I hate talking to.
It's a curse.
It's a blessing.
[Today....]Today
I spent an hour with two young siblings.
Boy, 12
Girl 14.
I was interviewing them.
Somewhere near the end I asked,
"So, what is the largest crowd you've played for this year?"
She answers, "Not Redrocks.... that's only 18,000.
The Gorge? That was like 25,000 at least."
He answers, "Telluride. Definitely."
In a stage whisper she follows up,
"She said THIS YEAR
Telluride was before the pandemic.
2019? Old.
This year, I think it had to be the Gorge."
The boy nods confidently,
"Ok. Yeah, this year? The Gorge."
Not their show,
just a big show at the Gorge Amphitheater, for reference.
Their dad's sister
(their paternal aunt)
is somewhere between Famous
and Very Famous
right now.
She brings her niece and nephew onto stages
all over the country.
Sometimes she sings with them,
sometimes she has them take the stage
alone.
Big. Stages.
When I showed them around the studio
they both went,
simultaneously:
"O MY GOD!
DANIEL TIGER'S TROLLEY!!
Can you take a picture of us in front of it?!"
[Yesterday]
Yesterday
I interviewed one of my co-workers.
He's worked for the organization for 40 years,
and loved it.
He had a story where he was flying in a helicopter
over an active volcano in Mexico,
holding onto an interior rail
AND his boss...
while his boss leaned out the sliding bay door
with a camera getting the shot
they wanted for a volcano/ring of fire documentary
they were making.
If he followed his heart,
he would have tried to be a music producer,
but TV production
is a career with a paycheck,...
unlike being a music producer
in a small city.
Afterwards, I went to the radio station.
I was covering my friend's show.
He does a very wide-open show.
So I did a wide-open show.
I played excerpts from Caddyshack
"Big hitter, the Lama..."
and British Beats
80's Irish Punk
and 90's comedy ska
and newishethereal harp music played by a beautiful living elf
I play '40s R&B .
I had callers,
One was a regular.
"Hey! Is that you?! You're on the wrong night!"
He's an old hippie with several martial arts blackbelts,
and stories about surfing in Baja in the 1960s
and how he built a snowboard apparel empire
from his home workshop
+ cannabis growing barn.
He tells me that he was recently contacted
by a local tribal elder
about the ghostwork he does on battle massacre sites.
I judge not,
let I get my ass judged.
I don't know what is 'real'
and I don't pretend to.
Ghosts. Aliens. Trolls. Fairies.
Horoscopes. Gods.
No gods.
String theory.
Hypercubes.
Nessie.
Performance Art.
Sure.
Believable.
Why not?
All of them.
None of them.
I really don't have an opinion,
but I think it's all fun to think about.
Oh, humans
and your wily ways!
Theology, epistemology, ontology, occultism,...
but I draw the line
at Reaganomics.
The day before -
[Wednesday!]
Wednesday -
I edited an interview with a singer/songwriter from New Mexico
who told me a story about how she was desperate to leave
her too-small town
so she applied to Julliard
because she loves music
and dreamed of New York.
She was accepted,
but no one in her immediate family
had been to college.
They were poor
and they didn't know how scholarships worked.
So she joined the military
to get her out of there.
Deployed to war,
she sang songs at the on-base coffee shop
in Qatar,
some covers,
some originals,
keeping herself safe
and sane.
I am editing,
so I am listening to this story
over and over...
She does this thing where she goes,
"Ummmmmmm...."
and clicks her tongue
when she thinks.
I am editing out dozens of these.
After leaving work,
I dropped by the radio station.
Old friends were having an
in-studio on-air party
as a farewell
to their show
which ran for over 12 years.
The band was four people,
who have been playing together
for 20+ years.
They told stories
and laughed
and played
and played
and played.
Lots of people got to listen in
on the radio,
but I got to go right in the building
and be welcomed
and scoot behind their chairs
(even in the booth, live on-air)
looking for a spot to stand
and take pictures.
I BELONG.
Afterwords, half of us grab a beer.
They're all silvered hippies.
Fun to talk with.
One points to the other
and looks at me,
"Did you know he was a monk?
He was even friends with John Lennon
and George Harrison for ages!
He was a Hare Krishna sorta guy!
Can you believe it?"
The other guy looks annoyed and goes,
"Sure, didn't we all go through that
back then?"
"Not like you did, man!
A MONK!!!"
He laughs and laughs and laughs.
I told stories about when I worked
as a night desk receptionist
(professional watcher/communicator/situation de-escalator)
at a mental health facility
specializing in schizophrenia.
This usually makes people either back-off FAST
or lean-in CLOSE
because schizophrenia
is a social taboo.
They leaned in.
Close.
The former monk's brother
has schizophrenia.
There are stories that only make sense,
if you KNOW
and LOVE someone
who suffers schizophrenia.
Same goes for bi-polar disorder.
We all talk
until the waitress has
put all the chairs
on all the tables
and stands at our booth
with her arms crossed
silently begging us
to leave.
[The day before was Tuesday.]
Tuesday,
at work I cancelled a Christmas Concert
I had been organizing.
We had a local cathedral donating space,
we had the 14 piece brass band almost hired,
we had a 12 person crew to call,
and one happy development executive
ready to send out invitations
to our "most supportive" donors.
Plop.
Nope.
Not going to happen.
Everyone is disappointed,
but whatyagonnado?
Ok.
After work I am at the radio station for my show.
I am playing 1950s rockabilly
from only Pacific Northwest musicians.
Why?
Because I can.
Monday?
I don't know what I did Monday.
Too much has happened in the meantime.
The point of all this was...
how THRILLED I am
that a good portion of my day
any given week
is doing a personal interview,
and attending very small private concerts.
For two weeks in August, it was 5 concerts a week.
Just the band and our crew.
We are the audience,
and we are working
but work is fun.
They are not just practicing...
it isn't a rehearsal.
It's a full-on performance
with them giving their all... their best.
All the bells and whistles.
Sailor is running an art show and sale this week.
Busy, busy, busy....
he's finishing carving projects
while organizing food, drink, education, and generalized merriment
under the auspices
of ART CRITICISM and JUDGEMENT.
Life has been busy these last two months... three months.
I've hardly posted since coming back from Italy in late July.
But it's been fun.