A moment to stop

Already August - another year flying right past me.  Two weeks from now, I'll be on the beach of Hilton Head Island and (hopefully) taking in sun and not thinking about anything and everything.  

I'm not stressed about particulars; while this temp position has been very good and enjoyable (and keeping me afloat), it would be nice to have a sense of whether or not it will convert to permanent, since I'm now in the fifth month of being here.  And that's simply logic - not fear or impending negatives; nothing like that.  Just a chance to exhale would be helpful.  I'm still sending out resumes and trying to network, but it would be welcome to actually have them say "please stay".  It's a good place; nice people; relaxed atmosphere.  It would be great to be part of it for the extended future.

Everything else is still a relaxed sort of drift - lessening ties with people has had a very positive effect.  No arguments or aggravations; no having to be besieged with unnecessary psychodramas or histrionics.  If having fewer people in your life when you're older does wonders for your health, then I'm all in.  

A minor thing - I did finally pick up a guitar for the first time in God-only-knows how long; it was with the purpose of changing the battery (it was in the Taylor acoustic/electric) but I'm stunned by how it's stayed in tune.  This weekend might be a nice time to see if I still have dexterity and memory in place for attempting a song or two.

Nostalgia for an age yet to come?

It's been a recurring topic of conversations I've been having lately - and I don't mind.  It seems to be a greater number of friends who have the same train of thought as I do about this:  living in the past.

So many people I've known stay firmed mired in yesterday.  It's a security blanket, comfort zone - call it what you will.  It gives them some form of joy and happiness.  I don't begrudge them that.  What I do think is that it's sad.  It says they've be hesitant to progress from what was to what is.  The moment someone says "high school was the best time of my life", you know that's where the conversation will inevitably lead.  Remembrances of things that were minute and of a moment - and certainly doesn't mean something/anything to me now (or, perhaps, at any time) - is not really conducive to communication and to maintaining a basis of a relationship on any level.  It just means that person is stuck on an emotional treadmill.

I'm not falsely nostalgic; I can find warmth in a particular memory (or memories) and it can be joyful to share those memories, especially if you're with someone who was part of the experience with me.  But constantly drawing on "remember when...?" is not pleasurable.  It's unnecessarily draining.  And for me, it doesn't help me to see or understand you as you are now.  And, truth be told specifically, it's the friends I had who were into punk rock (as I was) that seem to be the ones who are there.

Adding insult to injury is saying things that a 17 or 18 year old would say; having almost the same look; wearing silly slogan-covered t-shirts - not having evolved over the decades is unacceptable.  I have no respect for it.  It's very disappointing to see so many people I (sort of) grew up with who haven't grown up at all.  I'm not saying I have all the answers or I'm smarter or better, but I know there's a time when you have to let go of all the old bullshit and fallacy that was clearly misguided politics and views.  

The beauty of this is being able to jettison and let go of all these people from my life.  We have nothing in common anymore; nothing to talk about and no reason to pretend to hold on to a friendship that ran its course over time.  I have - for good, bad or indifferent - become very much the "couldn't care less" type.  And, again, that isn't in a mean-spirited or dismissive fashion.  Why force conversation and pretend when it would make both of us uncomfortable?  

And so it goes.

I'd be remiss if I didn't say something about the passing of Ozzy Osbourne and Hulk Hogan.  I was not a metal fan during my formative years; like every teenager, I had a copy of "Paranoid" and it was okay - I wasn't much for the sludgy-ness of it.  Nor did I follow Blizzard Of Oz, but I did like "Bark At The Moon" a lot - it was in rotation a lot on T.V. in 1983 and automatically catapults me into that wonderful summer when I graduated high school.  Over time, I grew to like Ozzy (and Sabbath's) music a lot more.  And he was, without question, a funny, charming and charismatic guy with a good heart.  

Hulk Hogan was the proverbial cartoon  that was larger than life - I remember his initial entry into the WWWF, being managed by my hero, "Classy" Freddie Blassie - and he was a flop.  When he re-exploded after his appearance in "Rocky III", he ignited pro-wresting into a completely different (and unexpected) stratosphere.  He was a master showman; he made it all a lot of fun and he delivered those unforgettable lines, like "what'cha gonna, do, brother, when the 24-inch pythons run over you?"

Regardless of how old I am or how old they were, they will both be missed.

Holiday... celebrate accordingly

I'm a sucker for Independence Day celebrations.  I'm a patriot.  I love this country and what it stands for.  I love the pageantry and traditions of barbecues and fireworks and the annual watching of "1776".

I loathe those who disparage it and are trying to destroy it.  

Random observations, etc. redux

It's finally summer and we never had a smooth transition.  The last few weeks have been like April/May weather - wet, damp, cold enough for jackets to be necessary, cloudy every day.  Now it's air conditioning and take a cloth to wipe your face if you're walking.  I miss the transitional seasons of spring and autumn.  You could enjoy and savor the shift.

This temp position has been, so far, very nice.  I like the people I work with and it isn't a highly stressful situation.  It's more aggravating to have interviews and get no results.  Why even bother putting me through the paces?  Answering these robotic and silly questions is an embarrassment, frankly.  Whoever hires the human resource teams really needs to understand the dynamic of speaking to people (insert "irony" here).  I am of the hope that this temp job will simply transition to permanent.  It may be less money than I'd been making, but it's an enjoyable atmosphere.

My last written piece - for the foreseeable future - goes up tomorrow on Popdose.  It's funny; when I started writing again in 2012, the first thing I did was an interview with Peter Holsapple of The dB's. which was a blast and a great way to re-kickstart my "journalistic" side.  I'm ending this with a review of his bandmate, the venerable Chris Stamey, whose newest album will be released in a few weeks.  In the way that everything is cyclical, the album is called "Anything Is Possible".  I never expected doing what I've been doing OUT OF SHEER LOVE for the last 13 years like I have, so there's truth in that idea.  It's been an incredible run, but once things soured a few years ago at Popdose, it began the slow leak of deflation.  There's also some logical reasons - not being paid for any of it, notwithstanding - I don't go to the movies or theatre; I'm not sure there are any more records for me to buy and want to write about; my hearing has suffered to the point where I don't want to go to concerts (never mind the costs). And yes - there is the fact that at 60, my interest really isn't what it used to be.  It's just not there.

It'll be time for vacation, in just two months.  Looking forward to seeing something new.  It helps clear the mind and it will be great to be at a beach resort with a spa (and yes, spa day has been booked).

It's amusing to see some zilch come out of nowhere and make snide comments on a previous post.  Obviously, the result of being inferior.  Calling one's self "Anonymous" takes great thought and courage, doesn't it?  

Still waiting

As you get older, it's harder to remain patient, even though it's become a refined element of my being - sometimes you just have no choice.

I'm at this temp job for the last two months and they've made no oeuvres towards permanence, which gives me both pause for concern and the drive to continue to look for a full-time/permanent offer.  I don't like uncertainty and this is definitely one of those scenarios.  It also doesn't foster much in terms of trust, quite frankly.  Don't get me wrong - the people are great and the atmosphere is terrific, but why was the person I replaced only here for three months?  Common sense has to prevail.  Hence, I still send out resumes and will take interviews as they're offered.

As of today, it hasn't gotten as warm as I would have hoped and expected for June - I'm still wearing a jacket and socks.  It's sunny, which I appreciate, but it's deceptive.  I want warmth!

We're down to two more episodes of Radio City... going up - one in about 35 minutes from now and the last one next Tuesday.  I've set up the last two reviews I plan on writing (both on Popdose) and then, who knows?  It's nice to not feel that almost-forced "oh, I have to write a review" dread - it was always supposed to be for pleasure, not a chore.  Maybe once there's enough time and space from doing this, I'll come back to it sporadically - if I hear, see or read something that merits sharing (and dissecting).

Everything is "we'll see".

Time to go...

After a lot of thought - and I do mean a lot - this past week, I decided it was time to end the Radio City... podcast.  With Jon moving to Portugal and the sporadic nature of doing it as infrequently as we have in the last few years, it's time to stop.  Eight years is a pretty good run.  

We recorded the last show on Sunday night - it was definitely the most subdued conversation we may have ever had - including the years previously, when I was a regular guest on his CBS show, Overnight America.  But reality is reality - circumstances really call for this - and ever since my birthday, the reality of turning 60 has gained greater momentum.

During that last show/conversation, I announced that I'm also done writing for Popdose and MusicTAP and I think that holds as well.  I don't have anything new to say or offer anymore.  I don't want to write about the same bands and new-ish music doesn't really excite me.  I did it for a dozen years and, aside from not being paid, it was a phenomenally wonderful experience - it solidified the truth that yes, I was (am) a natural writer.  I had a lot of fun, connected with incredible people and most of all, it was pure joy.

All of this signifies that sooner or later, I will have to begin the task of putting my guitars, equipment and other musical items up for sale.  I haven't picked up a guitar in... I don't know how long.  That isn't being funny or sarcastic - I truly can't recall.  I don't have any desire to see shows - again, new music doesn't interest me; I've seen everyone I've ever wanted to see - as well as my hearing having suffered enough.  

Everything reaches an end.  It doesn't have to be traumatic or dramatic - sometimes, it just dawns on you.  Which, of course, is wonderfully reassuring.  There were no great revelations here.  No particular event - just looking at your own life and thinking about it.  Do I want and need to continue with any of this?  Does it and will it make me happy?

The answers are:  no.  Not now.  Not like it did.

But there was one caveat that Jon and I did end the show with:  it may have been the final episode - period.  Or it may be the final episode for an indefinite period. And there is a possibility that we may be back, down the road, should the timing be right.

All of which is to say I don't know.  But being able to come to this point is proof that age does allow for wisdom, grace and acceptance.

A few minor thoughts...

First and foremost, after having the blood test on Saturday morning, I already got the results - my PSA is down to 1.3/9.2 - significant beyond words.  This shows the aquablation procedure was a total success and I couldn't be more relieved.  If I'm correct, when I see my urologist this week, he'll tell me I won't have to come back until November.

It was a beautiful "yes, it's definitely spring" weekend - but today is humid and rainy.  Nice to be in the office, though.

Looking forward to actually taking the car in for a repair - nothing major; just annoying and costly, with both time and money.  But it has to be done and I want things to continue running smoothly.  I'll have them do an oil change at the same time.  I hate having things at loose ends and this will have been three weeks of a not-working tire pressure gauge system/light.  Last time (a decade ago?), it was all 5 gauges - hopefully it won't be a repeat.

Someone was asking me last week about what it was like to be in a band.  And the answer is this:  it was a joy; it was a sense of pride and the total sum being as to who I was at the time.  I am very proud to have been in The Punch Line - especially the first/four-piece iteration.  I thought we made great music and we were as good as anyone we were fans of, if not sometimes better.  My regret is the natural one:  I wish I knew then what I know now.  Perspective, time and wisdom makes me wish I'd acted differently and not made everything concerning the band be so important. It never needed to be a house-on-fire scenario all the time and yet, we never could get out of our own collective way.  I'm just as culpable as anyone and I regret not having that sense of rationality at the time.  And being who I am now - or where I'm at - I don't know if I could play in a band-scenario again.  It has nothing to do with the people involved - I would attempt to do it with The Punch Line - yes, that's not a bold statement; it's just sense.  But:  we're all strangers now; two of us are in our 60's; I don't know if I can remember or play any of our songs - and most importantly, it would be a tremendous mental chore to put myself in the mindset of playing with a band, even if it was only for one night.  

The point:  I'm not that person anymore.  It's reality.  It doesn't mean an outright "no" - just the fact that I haven't done it in a very long time and have, for all intents and purposes, put my musical life behind me.  And because I'm at this point, I wish I'd savored it a lot more.