Dirty Diamonds

Before I rave about seeing Alice Cooper at the Michigan State Fair, I want to say that I think Neil Diamond is cooler than hell.

In Detroit, we talk about the Red Wings being a classy organization. Of course, there's not much else classy in Detroit...

Hello Kwame Kilpatrick.

Hello Monica Conyers.

Sorry, I digress.

Neil Diamond had laryngitis, and decided to perform a show in Ohio anyway. Who would care? Rock groups have put on crappy shows for years... Ever see Aerosmith when the toxic twins were in their glory? How about Guns n Roses?

So Neil puts on a crappy show, and apparently, he felt bad about it, and offered his fans their money back!! How's THAT for class?! I gotta tell you, I have a lot of respect for the guy - especially after doing something like that!

Now many of us think that if someone performs at a State Fair, they are desperate for cash and/or washed up. I felt the same way year after year, when I heard Alice Cooper was coming to perform.

Probably because of this assumption, I never went to see Alice until last year. While at that show, I realized that I couldn't have been more wrong, and immediately recruited friends to join me this year and see what they've been missing.

So last night, we paid for our $60 tickets - NOT! We paid $10 (plus $7 for parking) for "main floor" type seats, and proceeded to get our heads ripped off!

I will repeat what I said last year - how could it have taken me so long to see Alice Cooper???! The show was amazing! It was everything I had ever heard about his shows growing up, and at 60 years old, he still performs like a madman!

One thing that stuck out to me was the sound. The drums and guitars sounded incredibly full, leaving us nothing for want. And then there was Alice's voice... cripes! He sang phenomenally!

We are finding out that as many rock singers age, they cannot reach many of the notes they used to (see Robert Plant). Yeah, this curse affected Alice, too... but only once (during "Poison") did I notice.

And I gotta say... the opening to Alice's show is one of the coolest openings to a concert that I've seen.

A troubled man for troubled times. Our homegrown boy thrilled and chilled once again. I am ecstatic that I've finally come to my senses and saw Alice Cooper... at the State Fair.

Has America become SO shallow and lazy that we do not expect anyone to take responsibility for anything?

Hello Kwame Kilpatrick.

Why do we let presidential hopefuls get away with telling us what they think the other guy did wrong? TAKE RESPONSIBILITY! Tell me what YOU did RIGHT! What are your goals and dreams?

Hello Barack Obama.

Hello John McCain.

Really, I do enjoy living in America. But how have we come to blame everyone else for our problems? Whatever happened to George Washington chopping down the cherry tree? Whatever happened to the golden rule?

And just as importantly, why do I feel so helpless to change things?

Can I Change My Mind?

Okay, in the words of Howard Kaylan, I know when I'm licked - all over.

I have to revisit some comments I made in an earlier post about American art.

Sheryl and I went to the Detroit Institute of Arts this weekend and I ran through some of the galleries, including the American art galleries. Prior to this visit, I recall American art being paintings of men in wigs - the new world hoity-toity - and indians. And frankly, this is the stuff that bores me.

However, these images were merely a few of the many pieces of American art displayed in the museum. There were many more that splashed color, busting from the canvas and displayed American ideals that I've forgotten about.

I feel like I have an American hangover. With the elections coming up, with the war in Iraq, with McDonald's spreading like a scourge on humanity, I have forgotten the rich history of this country.

I love European history. I feel like it's so strange and magical. Italy, Germany, Greece - they all fascinate me.

Yes, America is 1,000 years younger than Europe, but the fact is, we have some 230+ years of documented history, and knowledge of stuff before that.

If we look at places like Savannah and St. Augustine, we can learn our history. We can see that America is so much more than Best Buy, Kid Rock, Usher and Mariah Carey. If we take some time to breathe in our historical landmarks, we can see why immigrants came here to make life better for their families.

So I sit corrected. American art - paintings, writings and such - isn't all dull. For me, it still doesn't hold the magic that European art does, but it made me look twice, and re-evaluate my stand.

And ironically, during my American art sucks soapbox, I hadn't paid attention that I was dissing one of the most influential writers in my life - Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

There it is then.

(picture above: "Street Performers" by Hughie-Lee Smith)

Like A Fuse

Sammie took off one night
In her beet purple beat down jeep
Beatles tunes repeating
Feeling deep in her seat

She told me one night
Fueled by tequila and chartreuse
It was all a ruse and no use
She was lit like a fuse, the booze

Between tears and cheers
Beers
She switched gears
Telling me she'd take off one night

And there she was,
Screaming to the world:
Sing me a song, let your heart cry out
Touch me, make me feel full of grace

I wonder when she realized
The compromise
That symbolized our ties
The lies

Sammie disappeared
Her words cutting through the night
Such a fight
Uptight, she drove out of sight

And there she was,
Screaming to the world:
Sing me a song, let your heart cry out
Touch me, make me feel full of grace

Movies, movies everywhere!

Sheryl and I rarely go to see movies, especially together. I'm more into "Iron Man", and she's more into "Sex and the City". She's a little bit country and I'm a little bit rock and roll...

Together, we've seen, like three movies at the theater, which averages to about one per year. In fact, I think the last one we saw was the third Bourne movie, which we saw last summer!

That was until recently, however.

Last November, we attended the Detroit Institute of Arts' (DIA) grand re-opening. While there, we became members. So earlier this summer, we received a pamphlet in the mail telling us what events were upcoming at the DIA.

Within the DIA is the Detroit Film Theater (DFT - pay attention, there will be a test at the end of this blog!), which seemed to have quite an interesting array of quirky films being shown throughout the season.

Sheryl wanted to see a few of the films, and I was interested in checking them out, too. I went online and purchased tickets.

So here we are in the month of August, and we have already seen two of the movies ("Jellyfish" and "Encounters at the End of the World"), with another two coming this week ("Rebirth of a Nation" and "Up the Yangtze"). We are like a walking Sundance Channel!

Oh yeah, and next week we've got the Children's Leukemia Foundation moviethon!

Good thing I'm going to physical therapy, or I'd have no time for exercise! LOL

Now, I don't know about Sheryl, but I love seeing these eclectic films - they open up my eyes and mind to more going on in the world besides our lives.

You know, sometimes we all get stuck in our little boxes and forget to venture out. This membership to the DIA has been a good thing. We still want to see the Sacred Places exhibit, and I am debating about joining an auxiliary. It would be really, really cool to get inside info on some art and the DIA, but man, sometimes the detail these people want to get into just sucks the life out of me! So I'm still debating about that.

I can definitely burn out on movies... but not so much on art... yet...

Me? Old? HAH!

Question: When is the best time to laugh about getting old?

There are two answers.

1) Always

2) See #1, particularly when your oncologist teases you about getting old.

For the last year or two or three, I've been struggling with my body. I never knew whether I was experiencing a certain pain or bump or bruise as a result of long term chemo/radiation side effects, or getting older.

I was a victim of this country's wonderful health care institution: insurance. I lost my job, and couldn't keep up with COBRA payments. Knowing full well that I'd have to deal with the pre-existing condition bullcrap, I just couldn't keep up my insurance and let it lapse.

As a result, years went by since I saw my oncologist. I passed the magical five-year mark without getting my graduation certificate - if you know what I mean.

So finally, this year, I decided it was time to close that chapter once and for all. I saw my oncologist - who naturally yelled at me for not following up properly - and being the thorough doc that he is, he sent me to a neurologist for my hip - just to make sure that it wasn't chemo related.

Sure enough, after my tests, it was determined that my hip problem is related to a couple of herniated discs in my lower back.

So I returned to my oncologist armed with this information, and he started to dance - "I knew it!" He exclaimed animatedly. "You are getting old, Matt!"

And we laughed.

He said he was happy because he wasn't the only one getting old, and I told him that with the history we have between us, I am very happy to be getting old!

His face got serious for a moment, and he said pointedly: "Well said." He took a moment and reiterated: "Well said..."

I still have to get a CT scan to get this wrapped up and put a bow on it. In three months, this will all be over. I already have my peace of mind, but I an still waiting for my diploma - the handshake and the tassle that tells me that I am getting old.

Thank God!!

Age is such a depressing thing for so many people. For me, I recognize that yeah, it's gonna wreak havoc on my body, but shit, that ain't nothing that I haven't already gone through! We should welcome age and the wisdom that comes along with it, not treat it like it's a bad thing.

After all, it's better than the alternative!

A Memory is a Terrible Thing to Taste...

Memories are terribly important to us. They are the basis for stories, folklore and rumors. They can also cause crazy emotions such as sadness, happiness, anger and ecstacy.

I have spent a lot of time this summer talking about summers past. I have truly missed them. My favorite summer memories that have popped up this year are the summers when I was a leetle boy, and hung out with my mom's Uncle Phil.

My mom, Grandma and I would go to see Uncle Phil and Auntie Aggie, and Uncle Phil and I would head out to the garage to let the wimmin's talk. He was the coolest, because he was the oldest guy I knew who would treat me like a person and not as a kid.

In the garage, Uncle Phil always seemed to have some building materials laying around. He would let me build the crappiest things in the world - although my imagination turned them into birds, planes, cars, etc. When we got done building stuff, we would head down the street to the park and play.

This entire summer, the weather has reminded me of those unemcumbered days shooting the bull with my buddy Phil. Those memories have given me such pain and longing in my heart that I haven't known what to do with it.

I was talking to my mom yesterday, and realized that maybe I just needed to embrace those memories, and acknowledge them. Maybe I need to say a few silent prayers to Uncle Phil, who died long ago. Maybe these memories are his way of contacting me to say: "hey, my brother, don't forget me!"

Maybe these are also memories that need to be documented for posterity.

Memories can be a bitch, man, but if we can figure out the proper use for them, perhaps we can grow into stronger, better people. Looking back on my time with Uncle Phil, for example, has got me wondering if I have been someone for my nephews and nieces to look up to - just like I still do to my old pal Uncle Phil.

Thank you for blessing me with those memories. I hope you're stockpiling some nails wherever you are, I've learned to swing a pretty mean hammer!

Bicentennial Post (#200)!!

Early August is considered the dog days. This term was coined because the constellation Canis Major ("big dog") and Canis Minor ("little dog") are easily visible in the night sky.

The name is apt, too. After all, when we think "dog days of summer", we think of dogs laying around and panting because it's so hot. They are lethargic and generally "blech".

These first two weeks of August often seem like the hottest days of summer. But... you can also feel change in the air. August is like a mime pulling a fake rope, only on the other end of the fake rope is a hint of fall.

This entire summer, I've been trying to reconnect with summers in the past. Sheryl and I have been so busy that I feel like I haven't really relaxed and enjoyed it. Of course, since we vacationed in Florida last winter, we haven't taken any time off this summer as well. So that might have something to do with it.

But I can feel the change coming. For me, I feel like it's going to be a spiritual change - time to spark the zen again (said Ben the hen as only he can!).

The Perseid meteor shower will take place the night (and/or morning) of August 12. I would love to be able to find a dark spot and have a late night picnic with my wife as we contemplate life under a waterfall of shooting stars.

Lots of riding left this season, too, and I still have an outside chance of hitting my goal of 2,000 miles. Man, I love riding.

Whoo-hoo for my bicentennial post!