When All You Need Is A Shot In The Arm (Wilco)

There are times in life when music transcends everything else. On a large scale or small, music is capable of triggering all sorts of crazy emotions.

For me, there are some specific examples: when I want to relax or concentrate, I will put on certain tunes from Tangerine Dream. When I play Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon", I think of my Uncle Ron.

But Wilco has defined my life in the 2000s. In 2002, when I celebrated life after cancer, my friends Jon and Sue came to a party at my mom's house. Sue gave me a CD she burned. A song on that CD was "I am trying to break your heart" - by Wilco.

For my birthday in 2005, Sheryl bought us tickets to see Wilco at Meadowbrook Music Theatre. I loved that show, and eventually bought a poster specific to the show. For months afterwards, Sheryl and I played "A Ghost is Born" over and over and over and over. My favorite recollection of that time is the song "Hummingbird". We used to be silly, singing along with the lyrics, adding our own echo (echo).

In 2007, when I was barely working at Advance America, I was still listening to Wilco. I was attracted to the song "A Shot in the Arm", which included the lyrics "Maybe all I need is a shot in the arm", and "what you once were isn't what you want to be anymore". It rang true, man... it rang true.

And so last night, I went to bed with a heavy heart... I wasn't exactly sure why. I had hoped that my attitude would change by morning. It didn't. I was a bear at work... the unfriendliest mofo in the building. And when I came home, I wasn't sure I wanted to go to tonight's Wilco concert. After all, I would be going by myself - and what fun is that?

Well, the show started at 9pm, and lasted til 11:40pm. So at least I'd get my money's worth...

But after the opening songs - "Wilco (the song)" and "Bull Black Nova", Wilco began tearing away at the veil that clouded my mind. "I am trying to break your heart" was followed by "Shot in the Arm". Holy crap!

By the time they played "I'm the man who loves you" (which also makes me think of when Sheryl and I were dating), I was laughing and smiling... and realizing that I was having a BLAST!

And soon, I realized that although I had been standing all night, and was getting a little tired, I wanted them to keep playing! "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" was killer - like all the rest of their songs. But when they played "Kingpin", it struck a nerve... "I wanna be your kingpin... livin' in (pause) MICHIGAN." What the hell? Is that a little pride I feel coursing through me?

There's a website called Wilcobase.com, which shows the setlists and allows you to compare Wilco shows. I can't wait for the setlist to be posted. I'll probably put the setlist on my iPod, and relive the show often.

When Wilco walked offstage at 11:40, I made my way home in 15 minutes. It was before midnight when I was babbling to Sheryl like a kid fresh home from the carnival, telling his folks all about it.

So now, an hour later, my ears are still buzzing, and guitar riffs and lyrics ramble through my short term memory.

I am SO gonna pay for this tomorrow... but I am loving it today. And when my alarm goes off, maybe all I'll need is a shot in the arm...

Hi-Res

Have you ever been overseas?
Have you ever plugged an electrical device into a socket that wasn't the proper type for the device?

When I was in Germany, I would plug my electric razor into the electrical sockets, and my razor would buzz frantically. Not surprisingly, that poor razor died shortly after I came home.

Well, I feel like that razor. I have so much going on in my head these days that I keep waiting for it to overload.

So here it is... 1:45am Sunday, and I finally feel relaxed and calm. I feel as if I can catch up with my thoughts.

I've got a good grasp on life. I know how I am, and I know how I tend to react to situations. As a result, I also understand why I feel the way I feel. It sounds crazy, but get this:

Something triggers my mind (this particular trigger happened while in Waynesville, NC), and at that point, my mind begins to alter my life - before I am even aware of the alteration.

Then, I spend a number of days/weeks/months catching up to the reality that my mind began creating days/weeks/months ago.

My only problem is that because it is a change, I feel antsy, anxious and uncomfortable. I am totally not enjoying the journey like I should. After all, life is simply a series of moments strung together in a row, and we should strive to enjoy and make the best of each moment.

Well, knowing the situation is the first step to fixing my perception, I hope.

I wonder if any of this makes sense to anyone aside from myself. I'll try to imagine everyone understanding. :)

We've got the last week of the Tour de France coming up. I sense fireworks coming...

Peace out, my peeps!

Sweet Sexy Smoker

Well, today is the day that we finally received our sweet sexy Orion smoker! Man, I can wait to stoke that sucker up!

Sheryl and I went to Nashville and Asheville over July 4 weekend, and we stopped at a number of stores along the way, looking for that dang smoker. So once we got home, I just ordered it online. And today, we are proud smoker parents! Whoo-hoo!

Anyhow, our trip was great. We stopped and took pictures at Col. Sanders gravesite, stopped at the Hillerich and Bradsby company - makers of the Louisville slugger, and stopped at a replica Stonehenge in Ky.

Nashville may end up being where Sheryl and I relocate. It was awesome! I am not a fan of Country and Western music, but I opened myself up for the experience, and it really made the trip great. I can't even begin to explain how rewarding it was to be in a true music city - without even liking C&W.

And heck yeah, we had BBQ!

Anyhow, my attention is being split right now between this blog and the Tour de France. The latter is winning out, so I gonna end for now. Hopefully I'll come up with something intelligent (for a change) next time!

Turning A Silent Vow

The quiet of night cradles my thoughts.
My heart gently taps time with the tide.
Smiling moon, comfort my dreams as they wash upon the milky way.
Here, in the misty ballroom of silence,
I forget the trappings of day, and sink with deep, deep breaths toward the mossy depths of nocturnal delight.

My fingertips sing with the humid harmonies of the heavens.
Stars twinkle in mystic morse code.
For minutes or millenia, I watch the message materialize.
Briefly, so incredibly brief, John Lennon pops into my head.
He sings to me:
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together...

I laugh from the depths of my cells.
And it radiates as I do,
Drawing deeply from the dense sense of destiny.

There is no yesterday, the is no tomorrow.
There is right now.
And I am here.

I get a lot of information these days through Twitter. People make a note about something, and if I care to investigate, I’ve got the entire internet to research it.

A lot of people are reeling as a result of yesterday’s celebrity deaths. First, every boy’s 70s dreamgirl, Farrah dies, then Michael Jackson. The other day, Ed McMahon died. Another musician died yesterday, as well – Andy Hughes, from The Orb. He was only 44.

Death brings people together – something I noticed reading tweets. There are cries for love and family, patience and understanding.

It’s a strange time to be alive in this world. A lot of times, I don’t see how anyone could bring a child into this world – as messed up as the world can appear. But other times, I have the utmost respect for the parents of those children who will one day be running our governments.

We need to find how media is going to dictate life. We receive information so much faster now than before. There is a saying that bad news travels fast – but heck, look how fast it travels through the media these days!

I suppose I ought to apologize to you right now. I try to tie all of my random thoughts together into a nice little blog-package. But it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen today. Let’s call today “Random Thought Friday”, and I propose we all go home and play the Talking Heads album “Stop Making Sense”!

Viva Devolution!

My wife is amazing.

Anyone find an Orion smoker yet?? Me neither.

Final thought: Let’s think about how our actions affect others. When we’re lying in the earth, or having our ashes spread, how do we want to be remembered?

Have we done enough to justify being remembered in that way?

I'm exhausted. Totally. Freakin'. Exhausted.

The messed up thing is that I have done NOTHING to feel so wiped out. It pisses me off that this may be my life with SHOW-GRINZ.

So I get this e-mail tonight from the President. OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Talking about volunteering.

When I volunteered, I learned a lot, and networked pretty heavily. I had a lot of fun, and met a lot of people. I tried things that I never tried before, and learned things that I never knew.

I met my wife while volunteering.

And yet when I suggest that people who have been laid off in this crappy economy volunteer, I get looks like I have three eyes!

When you volunteer, you have a chance to sharpen your skills. You can network. You can do something good for someone else. Don't think that karma won't go unnoticed!

Volunteering provided me so many positive things. I am a better person because of volunteering. And I hope that people who are looking to enhance their skillsets will look at volunteering. Yes, it's true you don't get paid.

But how much did you earn today?

Try it, Mikey...

I need to sleep for a good 7 or 8 hours...

Imp (77)


The long range game of change played out as arranged.
With fingernails nibbled to nubs
And glasses smeared with ashes,
He waited for the bait, which appeared to be late.
He checked his watch while water sloshed
Anonymity his name unknown.


His breath the depth of red red death
Sugar sweetened tears bled across his beard and gear
He testified at the alter of summer swelter
1977 his heaven unleavened and burned
Wherefore lies his pleasure? His treasure?


Eyesight causes slight fright at the sight of might
He sees himself as cherub-like, for the god of dis-like
Irate blood pulses, convulses
A wretched gargoyle who spoils daylight toils.
Watching in silence, the violence.
The life behind his eyes.

View from Four-Three

Sorry folks. I haven't posted in a while, because nothing has really inspired me. I've been feeling out of sorts lately, and can't seem to put my finger on it.

This weekend, I celebrated my 43rd birthday - my 7th post-cancer.

I am tickled to death that despite feeling so out of touch, many birthday wishes and blessings rained down upon me. In fact, the only thing that would have possibly made this weekend perfect, was finding a damned Orion Smoker!

Seriously. Sheryl and I stopped at 5 freaking stores looking for this elusive cooking apparatus with no avail. If you find one in a store and not online, let me know... there may be a finders fee for you!

So what is with this summer? I know it really started today, but criminey, could it have taken any longer to get here????

The beautiful thing, though, is that I think I've had a miraculous breakthrough with my back! I have found that if careful, I can ride Shtiya almost like I used to! Next to being alive and having an angel as my wife, and such an amazing family, I couldn't ask for a better blessing!

This morning, I rode just over 12 miles. For the first half of the ride, there was NO SOUND except for the wind whistling through my helmet and my own breathing. Wow. Freaking WOW!

Anyway, I am searching for inspiration again, and summer usually lends me its' powers. Now that Sheryl is going back to school, I am going to have to keep busy... idle hands are the devil's playground...

Welcome summer. Unpack your bags, and feel free to stay as long as you like. Please wipe your feet before you enter.

WWMD?

It's weird to me how things in life seem to spin on their axes. There are times when you think you know everything there is to know, and a little wrinkle appears, leading to an uninvestigated cavern.

I used to think I understood my relationship with my family. With a large family of uncles, aunts and cousins, it's really easy to become estranged.

For many years, I have lived in my own little world, and kept touch with only the closest family members.

Did you ever have the feeling that the world is preparing you - leading you up to something? It's almost like you suspect that karma is setting you up for a surprise birthday party.

I feel that way about my family now. I am realizing that I miss them. A lot.

I ran into a long unseen cousin at the store the other day, and he told me that aside from his dad's family, I was the only relative to meet his wife. I thought - she seems like a great girl, how sad that no one else has met her! Of course, the devil on my shoulder thought - NaNANaNaNAH-Na! I was the first to meet her! LOL!

But the reality is, only a handful of my family has met Sheryl. And she just seemed to understand that I had a large family that I never saw. I suppose I'm realizing how unfair it is to her and my relatives that they have never met.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what will develop from this. It seems like the semi-trailer is heading downhill towards Interestingville without brakes.

Hmmmm... what would MacGyver do?

Today marks two years that I've been married to an angel. Thank you god, for letting me borrow her for the rest of my life. It is just a blink of your eye, but for me, it's forever.

Every time I look at Facebook and Twitter, I start thinking in simple sentences.

When I lived in Germany, I knew I was comfortable with the language when I started dreaming in German.

God, I hope my dreams don't turn into simple sentences...

Day. Time.

Today looks to be a truly beautiful day.

On truly beautiful days, I realize how much time I wish away, looking forward to a truly beautiful day.

And then on those truly beautiful days, I find myself wishing away the time, looking back on summer memories.

Well, I think it's time to stop wishing time away.

Apparently, I've allowed myself that leisure for too long. It has become comfortable - too comfortable.

I need to remember that sitting still is not necessarily wasting time.

It's also a chance to enjoy every moment.

The (Real) Italian Job

I was wandering Europe. It was Spring. The Giro d'Italia was in full swing. I wanted to sing.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

Trudging over mountains. I wandered. He heat had me wonder. I fell asunder.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

On their bikes. Racers rode by me. They had me stymied. I fell to one knee.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
I cried to the skies.
For beautiful gelato.

And when the sun deflated. And the night grew cold. I wasn't as bold. No gelato to hold.

Key Lime
Graham Cracker
Cinnamon
Ginger.

Malted Milk Ball
Mango
Rum Raisin
Mocha Chip.

Every pore screamed. Every hole. Every mole. Jumped for joy as I stole...

Gelato.

Beautiful gelato.

Bang Bang

So the CFO of Freddie Mac has committed suicide. Does he know something we don't? Why am I suddenly very angry at him?

I don't know if the guy had problems. That sucks if he did, and I feel for him. However, if he just took the easy way out, I would totally kick him in the nuts.

Four, Five, Six Corners (Hot Plate Heaven)

I’m sittin’ here thinkin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.
I’m wondrin’ and a’waitin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

When the days are short,
An’ me an’ my baby are blue,
We look for some comfort,
We shiver an’ shake.

When the days grow longer,
An’ me and my baby feel twice as nice,
We look for the days to last forever,
And rarely – like never – they do.

I’m sittin’ here thinkin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.
I’m prayin’ and a’hollerin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

There’s a diff’rent climate here these days,
We’re lookin’ fer a little more.
We have all that we want,
We’re jes’ lookin’ fer a little more.

I’m sittin’ here prayin’,
For want of a sign.
I’m wondrin’ and a’waitin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

Blame It On...

It's pissing rain outside, but that's not going to receive the blame for my being sad. My depression this morning is caused by someone else's depression - Tyler Hamilton's.

Tyler Hamilton will always be one of my favorite professional cyclists. He was a lieutenant for Lance Armstrong for many years, and was involved in many exciting cycling moments.

And he is one tough sonuvabitch, too. In 2003, Tyler cracked his collarbone in one of the first stages of the Tour de France - and hung in there to finish the 3-week long race... he even won a stage!

A couple of days ago, Tyler admitted to taking a banned substance. This is his second occurrance, and instead of fighting the eventual ban he will receive, he has decided to retire.

Now, I have written about dopers and doping in the past. In this case, I felt that Tyler had paid his price for his previous indiscretions - a two year ban. I was shocked to hear about the current one.

But there is a story behind this - Tyler took this intentionally, as part of a natural vitamin that helps depression. Tyler was diagnosed in 2003 with depression. His family suffers from it. His grandmother, in fact, committed suicide as a result of it.

Earlier this year, Tyler stopped taking the medication that he was prescribed because it wasn't helping - and it was producing side effects that he didn't like. So he decided to try a natural vitamin that contained a banned substance.

Tyler knew he was playing with fire - I mean, if you are banned from cycling for two years for allegedly doping, you are going to be totally aware of what goes into your body. And he was caught.

I am sad that Tyler will no longer race. But I hope that he really takes the time to get himself mentally healthy. He will see that there are opportunities out there ripe for picking.

We have all gone through bouts of depression, but I can't imagine living with depression 24/7. It would be like living in Michigan, getting 70 days of sunshine per year...

Oh. Nevermind.

Tyler, you're tha bomb! Take care of yourself, and thanks for the fantastic memories!!

The Low Flow Below

Number two, number three
You can take it from me,
There’s a line in the sand
Where you must stand
To your back, step back, attack
Paint it bright black
Ahead of you, it’s true
A lesson like school, fool
Where do you lie?
On which side of the line?
Decide, don’t hide,
Where do you reside?
It’s easy, cheesy, and a little sleazy,
Take a breath and drink some tea-sy
Decide where you are
How far in the car
Take a stand, beat the band
Declare your land
And clap your hands
Clap your hands
Clap your hands
Slap your glands

Sweet Torture

When I was training to ride across Montana, I was maintaining a blistering pace of 200+ miles per week, but I struggled to recover on many days.

I would change my diet, drink protein shakes, swallow snot-consistency power gels, and oftentimes nothing worked. I would lay in bed the next day having a difficult time getting up.

"Getting old," I'd say to no one in particular.

So I tried to rest more. Which was fine. I never thought a lot about it.

Knowing what I know now, I can look at those moments as potential Sjogren's episodes. And the reason I say that is because I feel the same way these days - after my workouts at the Y - particularly after a strong cardio session.

My legs feel like worn out rubber bands held together with plaster of paris.

"Getting old?" I ask to no one in particular.

I dunno. In my mind, I don't work any harder than anyone else who isn't as exhausted as I am. Am I a sissy? In the back of my mind, I think so. But at the same time, there is still enough doubt to where I can attribute it to Sjogren's - without feeling guilty.

I try not to let it get the best of me, period. Today, I still plan to hit the weights at the Y. I'll probably do less cardio (if any) because my legs are wasted. I can then recover (aside from painting our bathroom and generally putzing around) for three days before our next swim class.

The thing that really sucks though, is always wondering if I am using my ailments as a crutch. If I am, how do I really know whether I need a break, or whether I need to suck it up?

And to make it worse, I am a cyclist at heart, which to a degree makes me yearn for physical discomfort.

So many questions. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to get definitive answers on our healthcare questions like athletes and stars do?

Oy, that is another egg to crack... not for today, though.

Have no fear, my friends, that whining sound you hear tonight will just be lil' ol' me. Have a laugh on my behalf, because I will certainly deserve it!

You Gotta Have Hart...

The other day, Sheryl and I went to see Jill Jack at the Hartland Music Hall. It was the last of Sheryl's birthday presents (yes, her birthday was in January, and no, I do not spoil her!), and we had a blast!

Mine and Sheryl's musical tastes differ greatly, but we agree on a few things: We like Los Lobos, and we like local musicians Stewart Francke, Liz Larin, and we are particularly fond of Jill Jack.

So this weekend, Jill had decided to record a couple of live shows, performing new music. Sheryl and I went to the first (Friday) show, thinking that it would be more raw and electrifying than the second (Saturday) show.

There were a few glitches in the beginning, and we could sense the nerves. But it was cool. And as the night went on, the performance got stronger and stronger.

After the break, Jill and her band played a couple of the strongest songs of the night. At that point, I realized how in tune the band was with each other, and how amazing the evening was.

In my life, I have never been able to accept comfort for too long. I had always needed change and growth. This is a quality that Jill sings about - the hunger for challenge and suckiness of normality. Other people can let moss grow under their feet.

It's been this need that has drawn me to Americana music. Music of the road, and stories along the road.

Jill's band seethed Americana Friday night, and it tweaked my wanderlust. In a good way, of course! :)

In the end, Sheryl really enjoyed herself - which was the goal of my evening - and I enjoyed myself, too. We can't wait to hear the album when it comes out. In fact, we were joking before the show that we would be a part of history - especially when Jill would say "I was reading in Rolling Stone the other day that Dee-troit audiences are the best audiences in the world! (We would cheer and holler) And Jill would continue by saying: "I thought to myself, sh*t, I've known that for ten years!"

Or maybe that was Bob Seger who said that.

State of the Art (Lather. Rinse. Repeat)

Over the last couple of years, I have become very proud of being a technical writer. I used to think that my mad tech writing skillz would lead me into a full-fledged world of engineering. And while I lingered on the fringe of engineering, I learned that not only would that world not have me, but I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted it.

As I get more comfortable in my own skin (if you will), I have begun thinking about the state of writing.

Even now, I am writing on a computer - a far cry from the pen and paper I used to write with. Technology is blowing up all around us, and it would seem ideal to be a technical writer during this explosion. The problem is, however, that along with technology comes globalization. And globalization means that you have to accept the fact that your audience may not speak your native language.

I saw this first hand when I lived in Germany. Road and safety signs are perfect examples of globalization. As writers, we need to recognize that pictures cross language barriers. Successful companies have taken heed - have you tried reading directions for an iPod lately?

Another change we face as writers is slang. Slang became very obvious in the 80s with the dawn of "ebonics". It seemed as if people within our own country spoke different languages. America, however, being the true melting pot that it is, embraced language changes and incorporated many of the differences into general understanding - Holla!

The electronic age is bringing its' own slang. I am still struggling to learn the lingo of text messaging (aka, wrtng wtht vwls), but again, it is something that we will - and must - embrace.

Gone R dyz of Lather. Rinse. Repeat. In the coming age, my art - my skill - will be less desirable, and I will have to adapt in order to survive. Yes, it is just like everything else - adapt to survive.

A dear friend of mine has amazing drawing skills. But he hasn't embraced the technology that would allow him be creative on a daily basis. On the other hand, I work with illustrators who are constantly seeking new tools to allow them to work more efficiently.

In the Detroit Institute of Arts, they house a lot of carvings, paintings and sculptures. But they also house digital art, and cutting edge media. Libraries house books, but you can also obtain books online and on CD.

I wouldn't be surprised that in the near future, we will be learning and training much like they did in "The Matrix". Just download programs into our brains. After all, when my parents went to school, they used slide rules in chemistry and physics classes. I used a calculator. And today, kids are going to class with laptop computers.

We have developed that far in 50 years. This is evident even in our country's space program. Engineers used slide rules to calculate Apollo 11 going to the moon. Today, we wouldn't even think to not incorporate computers!

So where do we stand here and now?

We're like Alice stepping into the mirror and into Wonderland.

Adapt to survive.

Goodbye Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Hello moto.