I sold all my big amplifiers a long time ago. I really am not that big a fan of loud these days. I loved the power of loud when I was young and the way I could feel a chord with my whole body when my pick hit the strings of my guitar with a force that would break more than my fair share of strings. I thought, and I still believe, that that force is the defining power behind rock-n-roll, or if not rock-n-roll, punk rock.
But, these days, I like melodies and rhythms and structures of songs. I play an acoustic guitar, mostly and I can hear my voice clearly when I sing. I don’t play out, but think I might some day again. For now, I strum my guitar alone in the house with my family and occasionally for a select group of close friends (cronies).
If you happened to stop by, this is what you might hear. I don't play with a pick but with my fingers, my thumb plucking out a strong steady bass line. My fingers brush against the strings with the back of my fingernails on the down-stroke to drive the songs rhythm and pluck the song’s melody with my nails on the upstroke. The sound is full with the melody weaving in and out of the bass line with a steady constant rhythm going on. I do all of this without thinking after years of playing and listening. Without band members, I have learned to create as much of the full band sound as I can all by myself.
I will start with a random song that falls from my head to my fingers. If I can’t find a song, I might reach back for an old one-even all the way back to an old Floored song. Its funny how much melody those songs actually had, underneath all that noise. I can’t even guess at the number of times I have heard my wife say “that’s really pretty, whose song is that?” after I have played an old Floored, Hammerhead, Diddy-wah-Diddy, Loaded or even a Mess song on my acoustic guitar.
Eventually I will pull out a folder of songs I have with lyrics written down to play and sing with. I might start with Taj Mahal’s “Johnny too Bad” to see my sons face light up so he can sing along to “You gonna run to the rock for rescue and there will be no RoocccKKKKK.” Dragging the Rock out like he is an opera singer.
After that song, I might choose John Prines “The other side of Town,” just to see my wife’s look of disapproval. The first time I played it for her I said to her, “Every time I hear this song I think of you.” And she sat down to listen in anticipation until she began to understand the meaning of the song around the second verse with “You might think I’m listening to your grocery list, but I’m leaning on a juke box half…”
Perhaps, then you might hear me do Tom Wait’s “The House where nobody lives,” followed by Greg Brown’s “Like a Dog,” that always gets a hoot from my son at the end when I howl like a dog at the moon. I will work in Michael Frante’s “Nobody right, Nobody Wrong” or “Bomb the World” just to provide a little inspiration before breaking into Charlie Parr’s “Cheap Wine,” that I just can’t help singing with much more bitterness from the liquor store owner perspective than Charlie’s sweet singing of old ladies and bums.
You would surely hear me sing “The man in the bed” by Dave Alvin at some point, but might not notice that I have changed a verse to reflect the man in the bed as my father or noticed the tears behind my eye and the lump in my voice. I will quickly switch to “Home Grown Tomatoes,” by Guy Clarke to liven up the mood again and then do “Rex’s blues” by Townes Van Zandt just for the pretty melody despite the sadness in the song.
I will do “Cold War” by Fred Eaglesmith, because I remember the cold war, my daddy fixing small machines and him listening to Johnny Cash on the radio. There will probably be some other songs mixed in, but I will end with the last song I wrote. I used to hate doing other peoples songs. If you remember one of my old bands, you know we mostly did our own songs. Except, it seems, everyone remembers that Floored did a mean ass cover of “Age of Aquarius,” and if I am in the right mood and I am passed my fourth Summit beer, you might still hear me do “Age of Aquarius” all the way through to “Let the Sunshine in.”
The last song I will do is Wishbone, which I wrote a couple years ago for my son. My son will sing along with this song too. I wrote it after I introduced him to his first wishbone and asked him to take a pull. He was about 4 years old at the time. Its got one Chord (E Major) and a steady Blues beat and melody weaving in and out of that one chord. Here's the lyrics.
Wishbone
We plucked the chicken
Skinned it too
Put it in a pot
Then we made some soup
(Lookie here) Now I got a wishbone
Tell you what we’re gonna do
I’ll make a wish
You make one too
Chorus (Wishbone, wishbone, wishbone,
Wishbone, wishbone wishbone [repeat])
I’ll take one end
You take the other
We’ll both pull it tell it gives
And then we’ll see which end is longer
Don’t you worry
Don’t you fret
You still got a chance
Though I ain’t lost one yet
Chorus
Don’t you cry
Dry your eyes
Don’t you know
That the wishbone never lies
Hold your head up
I rigged this one for you
My only wish
Is all your wishes will come true
Chorus
Been 4 years now since I wrote my last song. Still waiting for the next one to come along.
Friday, November 20, 2009
The Science of Fasting
Beginning at sundown every Friday I don’t eat for 24 hours. It is my own personal Sabbath, although I will work in the garden or back by the compost heap cutting up small sticks.
I can’t read the future and fate may hold other cards I’m not aware of, but I’ve always thought I would live a long life. I am 45 now and I feel my life is close to being halfway over. I don’t feel like the end of my life is approaching in the next decade or so. No, I am pretty sure I will see 2050 and my mind will be sharp when I do, even if I will often repeat myself.
I eat well and I fast a bit, and that will be my secret – that and I was lucky enough to make it through the highways and the terror of violence that is always at hand somewhere in the world. Some will say I died peacefully after a good long life, and I suppose they will be mostly correct. Life has been, is and will be satisfying although the way to the end, even with whatever trauma inevitably awaits me. I hope I will have grandchildren around me and a son I am so, So proud of, even if he has broken my heart several times with the inevitable turning away from the dreams I hold for him.
But, through all the good and bad luck, I will have eaten well and done my fasts, so I will live long, I suppose. I’m just wingin’ it. I don’t know any secrets and I don’t have any good science on my side, although I do think like a scientist. Eating fruits and vegetables is good for your health. Eating Kimchee and Yogurt is good for your digestion. You don’t need science to tell you this. Make these foods a significant part of your diet and you will start to feel better. But what about fasting.
First, anecdotally, humans have been fasting as part of our evolutionary history forever. Read any old text on ancient or nontraditional cultures and medicines and fasting will have played a part in religious and healing ceremonies. Second, there are Seventh Day Adventists. They fast once a week and they live longer and healthier lifestyles when compared to the general population. I read that somewhere. Look it up.
Finally, we come to my science. I read a New York Times article a few years back and a year or so later caught a 60 minutes episode on a new discovery. Both were a reporting of the discovery of a chemical compound found in wine that could extend the average human lifespan. This chemical apparently causes the human body to produce a chemical or hormone that switches our body chemistry and tells our cells to change emphasis from reproduction to longevity. In the New York Times article, just in passing, they mentioned that the Body is also induced to produce the chemical when we fast. But, hell, there is no money to be made in fasting and Americans love their pills. So, the race was on for patents to produce a product that can be sold as the fountain of youth to Americans and others wanting a long lush life. Eat McDonalds, take a pill, live a long life.
Well, I don’t think it works that way. There might be a chemical in red wine that induces the body to produce a chemical that changes our body chemistry. But, that is probably just happenstance. It is the fasting that the body is reacting to. Think about it. We go along millions of years, living as hunters and gatherers and having to face times and seasons where food is scarce. Evolutionary, we also strive to pass on our genes from one generation to another. So, when food is available, our bodies and cell structures put their energy into reproduction and the passing of our genes to our offspring. Men use their caloric intake for producing sperm and scheming for mates, while women prepare their body to carry a child to term. The child is born and then food becomes scarce, what do we do? We fast out of necessity and any scarce food goes to the children and the young whose bodies are also being prepared for reproduction.
When elders and parents fast, for the benefit of children and the passing on of genes, their bodies produce this chemical that induces cells to stop putting all this energy into reproduction. Evolution favors adults that produce this chemical, because once we have passed on our genes, longevity is more important than spreading more of our genes around. We need to live long for the sake of our offspring to teach and guide them in the world and to help them secure nutrition.
Enter the modern age where food, not nutritious food, but corn syrup and empty calories, is always available and we no longer fast. We get heart disease and cancer. Moreover, as our sex drives decrease we desire to recapture our health and take Viagra to feel young and sexual again.
Fasting may also kill those unhealthy cells that may lead to cancer or heart disease. And, fasting feels good. It makes you aware of your body and everything you put into it. You don’t eat for 24 hours and you will stop shitting for 24 hours. 24 hours after the Saturday night when you eat a salad and a meal, Sunday afternoon comes along and you have felt that salad and meal go all the way through you as you expel the remaining waste products.
So, I fast for 24 hours once a week. A few times a year I attempt to fast from 2 to 5 days. I’m wingin’ it, no doubt. Some people might think I’m doing it all wrong. People who eat regularly and are conscious of their health and diet cannot fathom the idea of going without a meal. They think their body has to maintain some homeostasis and their blood sugar levels need to be constant, or they will feel weak. But, I think they are wrong. I think all systems and parts of our bodies need rest and this includes the digestive system. Our cells also need to rest and need a trigger for the release of built up toxins from the constant metabolism stimulated by the constant caloric intake.
That is the purpose of the Sabbath. It’s not necessarily a testament to the creation and the rest required by the creator after a week of making the universe. Like every tale, the story of creation is a myth that provides us with a metaphor. We need to fast to allow our bodies to rest. Growing children need a constant supply of nutrition to meet their needs as their bodies grow, but adults should fast once in a while. That's my theory with the science to back it up.
I can’t read the future and fate may hold other cards I’m not aware of, but I’ve always thought I would live a long life. I am 45 now and I feel my life is close to being halfway over. I don’t feel like the end of my life is approaching in the next decade or so. No, I am pretty sure I will see 2050 and my mind will be sharp when I do, even if I will often repeat myself.
I eat well and I fast a bit, and that will be my secret – that and I was lucky enough to make it through the highways and the terror of violence that is always at hand somewhere in the world. Some will say I died peacefully after a good long life, and I suppose they will be mostly correct. Life has been, is and will be satisfying although the way to the end, even with whatever trauma inevitably awaits me. I hope I will have grandchildren around me and a son I am so, So proud of, even if he has broken my heart several times with the inevitable turning away from the dreams I hold for him.
But, through all the good and bad luck, I will have eaten well and done my fasts, so I will live long, I suppose. I’m just wingin’ it. I don’t know any secrets and I don’t have any good science on my side, although I do think like a scientist. Eating fruits and vegetables is good for your health. Eating Kimchee and Yogurt is good for your digestion. You don’t need science to tell you this. Make these foods a significant part of your diet and you will start to feel better. But what about fasting.
First, anecdotally, humans have been fasting as part of our evolutionary history forever. Read any old text on ancient or nontraditional cultures and medicines and fasting will have played a part in religious and healing ceremonies. Second, there are Seventh Day Adventists. They fast once a week and they live longer and healthier lifestyles when compared to the general population. I read that somewhere. Look it up.
Finally, we come to my science. I read a New York Times article a few years back and a year or so later caught a 60 minutes episode on a new discovery. Both were a reporting of the discovery of a chemical compound found in wine that could extend the average human lifespan. This chemical apparently causes the human body to produce a chemical or hormone that switches our body chemistry and tells our cells to change emphasis from reproduction to longevity. In the New York Times article, just in passing, they mentioned that the Body is also induced to produce the chemical when we fast. But, hell, there is no money to be made in fasting and Americans love their pills. So, the race was on for patents to produce a product that can be sold as the fountain of youth to Americans and others wanting a long lush life. Eat McDonalds, take a pill, live a long life.
Well, I don’t think it works that way. There might be a chemical in red wine that induces the body to produce a chemical that changes our body chemistry. But, that is probably just happenstance. It is the fasting that the body is reacting to. Think about it. We go along millions of years, living as hunters and gatherers and having to face times and seasons where food is scarce. Evolutionary, we also strive to pass on our genes from one generation to another. So, when food is available, our bodies and cell structures put their energy into reproduction and the passing of our genes to our offspring. Men use their caloric intake for producing sperm and scheming for mates, while women prepare their body to carry a child to term. The child is born and then food becomes scarce, what do we do? We fast out of necessity and any scarce food goes to the children and the young whose bodies are also being prepared for reproduction.
When elders and parents fast, for the benefit of children and the passing on of genes, their bodies produce this chemical that induces cells to stop putting all this energy into reproduction. Evolution favors adults that produce this chemical, because once we have passed on our genes, longevity is more important than spreading more of our genes around. We need to live long for the sake of our offspring to teach and guide them in the world and to help them secure nutrition.
Enter the modern age where food, not nutritious food, but corn syrup and empty calories, is always available and we no longer fast. We get heart disease and cancer. Moreover, as our sex drives decrease we desire to recapture our health and take Viagra to feel young and sexual again.
Fasting may also kill those unhealthy cells that may lead to cancer or heart disease. And, fasting feels good. It makes you aware of your body and everything you put into it. You don’t eat for 24 hours and you will stop shitting for 24 hours. 24 hours after the Saturday night when you eat a salad and a meal, Sunday afternoon comes along and you have felt that salad and meal go all the way through you as you expel the remaining waste products.
So, I fast for 24 hours once a week. A few times a year I attempt to fast from 2 to 5 days. I’m wingin’ it, no doubt. Some people might think I’m doing it all wrong. People who eat regularly and are conscious of their health and diet cannot fathom the idea of going without a meal. They think their body has to maintain some homeostasis and their blood sugar levels need to be constant, or they will feel weak. But, I think they are wrong. I think all systems and parts of our bodies need rest and this includes the digestive system. Our cells also need to rest and need a trigger for the release of built up toxins from the constant metabolism stimulated by the constant caloric intake.
That is the purpose of the Sabbath. It’s not necessarily a testament to the creation and the rest required by the creator after a week of making the universe. Like every tale, the story of creation is a myth that provides us with a metaphor. We need to fast to allow our bodies to rest. Growing children need a constant supply of nutrition to meet their needs as their bodies grow, but adults should fast once in a while. That's my theory with the science to back it up.
Darkness, Poetry and Marbles
The darkness is moving in all around us. I awake in the dark and turn lights on as I move from room to room and ready myself for a day of work under the bank of fluorescent lights hovering over cubes within the suspended ceilings in the capital-city downtown office building. I can see the sunshine in my daily walks through the skyway system, and upon leaving work to pick my son up from his day in school. From there it is a rush against the turning of the Earth as the sun settles in the sky while we hurry home to throw a football in the yard, shoot basketballs in the neighbor’s driveway, or toss a baseball back and forth. By the time we are called in for dinner, the darkness has almost enveloped us for the night and our play will be reserved for indoor activities until an early call to peel off and go to bed.
The long days of summer are gone and the garden has been put to rest. The leaves are piled high in the compost heap and the raised beds are all covered in straw. A gopher, some rabbits and many field mice scurry amongst the beds digging holes and piling dirt and causing worry to the gardener that refuses to use poisons or chemicals in his dirt that grows so much food to sustain his family. But the garden paradise he has created that flourishes with lush green growth from May to October has also created a panacea for other critters to call home. The rabbits and the mice he can live with, but this gopher going around digging tunnels and leaving gigantic piles of excavated dirt around his garden is the source of new frustration and worry. Is it time to get a gun?
Fall and winter is the time for reflection and also a time to let the darkness settle in all around us. We can be overwhelmed with thoughts of doomsday, as the Christmas shopping season ramps up and the Salvation Army bell ringers take up positions in the skyways, outside on downtown street corners and at the entrances of big boxes everywhere. We are also given a gift of time as the summer activities end, the harvest is over, and we sit indoors with our families and ourselves driving each other crazy. It is a time to read, play guitar and to write down thoughts. Winter provides opportunity to be poetic and to appreciate our longing for summer, even as the beauty of a winter snowfall covers pine and spruce trees and leaves the bird feeders at the center of the winter ecological backyard community.
And so, my guitar has been liberated from its stand and its strings are tenderly being caressed awake by my fingers several times a week as they mindlessly pick tunes and melodies on it and search for a lost voice put away early last spring. My son plays marbles and listens, sometimes sings along, and sometimes asks me to stop to join in his marble game. From upstairs I hear my wife’s voice say, “that was pretty, whose song was that?” Usually I don’t answer, embarrassed and slightly annoyed that I have to tell her that the origin of the song is unknown and has simply come with the darkness of the season. But, I am thankful for the effortlessness of my fingers as they pluck out melodies and a rhythm while my thumb keeps pace with a steady bass line on the low strings. Somehow my mind has picked out the songs of the darkness for my fingers to translate and the rooms of the house fill with a new lightness.
As I play marbles with my son, my thoughts remain on the guitar and I hear my voice call from within. I want to go back and pick it up and sing songs I’ve learned as my fingers provide the accompaniment. But, that will have to wait as my fingers struggle with a newer skill and get thoroughly trounced by smaller and defter fingers shooting marbles along side of me.
The long days of summer are gone and the garden has been put to rest. The leaves are piled high in the compost heap and the raised beds are all covered in straw. A gopher, some rabbits and many field mice scurry amongst the beds digging holes and piling dirt and causing worry to the gardener that refuses to use poisons or chemicals in his dirt that grows so much food to sustain his family. But the garden paradise he has created that flourishes with lush green growth from May to October has also created a panacea for other critters to call home. The rabbits and the mice he can live with, but this gopher going around digging tunnels and leaving gigantic piles of excavated dirt around his garden is the source of new frustration and worry. Is it time to get a gun?
Fall and winter is the time for reflection and also a time to let the darkness settle in all around us. We can be overwhelmed with thoughts of doomsday, as the Christmas shopping season ramps up and the Salvation Army bell ringers take up positions in the skyways, outside on downtown street corners and at the entrances of big boxes everywhere. We are also given a gift of time as the summer activities end, the harvest is over, and we sit indoors with our families and ourselves driving each other crazy. It is a time to read, play guitar and to write down thoughts. Winter provides opportunity to be poetic and to appreciate our longing for summer, even as the beauty of a winter snowfall covers pine and spruce trees and leaves the bird feeders at the center of the winter ecological backyard community.
And so, my guitar has been liberated from its stand and its strings are tenderly being caressed awake by my fingers several times a week as they mindlessly pick tunes and melodies on it and search for a lost voice put away early last spring. My son plays marbles and listens, sometimes sings along, and sometimes asks me to stop to join in his marble game. From upstairs I hear my wife’s voice say, “that was pretty, whose song was that?” Usually I don’t answer, embarrassed and slightly annoyed that I have to tell her that the origin of the song is unknown and has simply come with the darkness of the season. But, I am thankful for the effortlessness of my fingers as they pluck out melodies and a rhythm while my thumb keeps pace with a steady bass line on the low strings. Somehow my mind has picked out the songs of the darkness for my fingers to translate and the rooms of the house fill with a new lightness.
As I play marbles with my son, my thoughts remain on the guitar and I hear my voice call from within. I want to go back and pick it up and sing songs I’ve learned as my fingers provide the accompaniment. But, that will have to wait as my fingers struggle with a newer skill and get thoroughly trounced by smaller and defter fingers shooting marbles along side of me.
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