I SHOULD WORK FOR THE POST OFFICE...Why???
...as far as this blog's concerned, I've been 'mailing it in' lately...
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Blogger's note: An album review of Wings' "London Town" album is contained in this post. Keep reading; you're bound to get to it sooner or later...
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BLOGGER.COM gave me a big scare just a few minutes ago. When I tried to enter this blogsite, I couldn't find it. Through some sort of devilish trick, I was waylaid into signing in for a Google Account, which uses my e-mail inbox. I hooked this blog up with Google quite some time ago. Now, there are those who can enter 'blogger.com' without using a Google account, but I was under the impression it was 'sign up with Google or else we'll pull your blog', only to find out that I would've still had this blog without a Google address. But as the Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose sang back in 1971, "It's too late to turn back now..." So how is it that I'm "mailing it in"? I haven't blogged a lot lately. Some of my more recent posts have been just Plain-Old Uninspired. But I knock 'em off and throw 'em up here, all in the name of Keeping This Blog Alive. Barely alive?
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Waaay down here on the O-coast, gas climbed up and over the Three-Dollar Barrier about a week and a half ago, but it's down now to $2.96. And in the week between my last post and this one, the Cops haven't pulled me over for anything, so I 'spose that's cause for celebrating. Let's see, what else...while shopping at the thrift store, I found a still-sealed VHS of Elvis' "Change Of Habit", the last 'fiction'-type movie he ever did. His co-star is Mary Tyler Moore, and she plays a Nun ("Will her desire for 'E' stamp out her desire to be righteous?") I do know that Elvis doesn't sing a whole lot; I've read that the only song in the film is "Change Of Habit", but no hip shakin' goin' on anywhere near the nunnery. I guess he plays some sort of social worker in the film. Elvis' biggest-ever 'fiction' movie, is "Blue Hawaii", which is just an awful film. How can a movie establish any continuity when the plot is interrupted by "14 BIG SONGS", one of which is the ridiculous "Ito Eats" which is a song about a Hawaiian guy in the movie who, well, eats.....fizzzzzzzzz. Not exactly Oscar material there. It ain't easy to rock out with a ukelele, I guess.
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Things are really scattered all over this area, which means I spend more time in the car, per trip, than I used to. And especially since, after the first of this year, I'm having to be Really Conscious of my driving, 'cos cops are just everywhere (which I just don't understand; there's no more happening down here this year than last), so that means really stickin' to the ol' P's and Q's, in terms of "Keep Yer Seatbelt Fastened", and "The Sign Says 35mph, so it's possible to, say, get a ticket if yer goin' 36". So, whatever cassette's in the tape deck usually flies right by and before ya know it, an entire album has played. ("Cassette deck?", the young folks must be asking. "What's a Cassette?" they must be thinking). So, I got myself reacquainted with Paul McCartney & Wings' 1978 album, "London Town", and it's been playing in the deck this week. ("What's a deck?", the youngsters must be wondering.) I'd made one of those Illicit Tape Duplications of an album so I could hear it on the road...
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Paul McCartney's "Wings" group went through a whole bunch of changes during its' existence, the only constants being Paul (of course), Linda (again, of course) and Denny Laine, who was faithful in spite of the fact that Paul was very demanding and didn't pay Denny all that much. If you've ever heard the Moody Blues' song, "Go Now", that's Denny on the lead vocals. So he'd had some big-time experience. In the Beatles, Paul had to respect John Lennon, but in Wings, Paul could be very difficult to work with, mainly because he didn't have to respect any of his band members. Wings was HIS group, after all. But we're not here to gossip. Not now, anyway. "London Town" came out in 1978, and one of its tracks, "With A Little Luck" was a big, smash, groovy number one hit. Later on, "London Town", the title song, also hit the charts, so I was familiar with those tunes, but for some reason I never bought the album when it first came out. I didn't get around to hearing it until the mid-1990's. I'd found a copy in a Thrift Store for cheap,and right away, the entire album impressed me. It's tuneful and very imaginative; it's one of the best albums that I have ever heard; it's that good.
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Elsewhere on the "London Town" album, "I'm Carrying" is a sweet only-McCartney-could-have-done-it acoustic ballad; "Cafe On The Left Bank" provides a sort of international bistro flavor as the lyric alludes to hearing "Charles DeGaulle (giving) a speech"; "Name And Address" shows Paul doing a '50's style number in his best Imitation Elvis Presley voice; "Deliver Your Children" is a very, very good minor-key folk-type song, and Paul actually lets Denny Laine sing on that one. Well, Denny did co-author the song. "Morse Moose and the Grey Goose" is about a ship lost at sea..."this is the Morse Moose calling, this is the Morse Moose calling", and the song has all kinds of sound effects, radio static and Morse Code messages embedded in the song. And Paul wrote a tune that is just uproarious, "Famous Groupies" and how musicians met an ugly fate when the "Famous Groupies" got hold of them; one such encounter "left the music business positively horrified", the song says. Finally, for those who think Paul hasn't written a decent song since the Beatles broke up, he almost couldn't miss on this album. It is one of the most entertaining, and purely musical, albums I've ever heard, plus the lyrics throughout are Really Good. What more couldya want?
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So, I'm alive, well, and still blogging. I'm almost down to one a week, now. And I feel guilty about that. It's difficult to write when uninspired, and the thot came to me that "Hey, this Wings' album is really good; write about that! So I did.

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY DAY...

...tales from the wacky world of Oregon law enforcement...

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I guess I must be a jailbird-in-waiting. I was stopped this week for the first time since January of this year. And the more paranoid side of me thinks they're trying to get me, for something, anything. After all, I'm such a danger to everyone and everything. It had been raining all day. It was about 3pm and I was headed into town. I spied a cop car on the shoulder of the opposite side of the road, all staked out to catch people doing 36 in a 35 mile-per-hour zone. Whew, I thought, I made it past the cop car, now I'm home free! Then the cop car left its shoulder-of-the-road position and got into my lane. Looking at my rearview mirror, I saw the cop car in my lane, and the more paranoid side of me was thinking, This can't be good! And it wasn't. I got pulled over. Sheesh. Not Again.

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A lady cop walked up to my car, and to be honest, I had no idea why I was pulled over. She told me my car windows were tinted too darkly. WHAT??????? I told her I've never changed my windows' darkness; it was this way when I bought the car almost NINE YEARS AGO. Well, since she had me pulled over (a pulled-over person has absolutely no rights until the Cop Lets Him Go, by the way), of course she took my driver's license and registration back to her car to radio in all my pertinent data. I swear, sometimes I feel that Cops Make Up Stuff, just to pull ya over and find out more about ya. Well, she couldn't bust me for anything. Then, and this was just AMAZING: She had a little gray business-card with big thick numbers on them. And, she placed that card on the inside of my drivers' side window. If the numbers can be seen thru tinted windows, then the tint is street-legal. And my windows were legal. The photo above was taken thru my tinted driver's window on a similarly rainy day. This is one of my car's windows that the officer initially, but mistakenly, thought was too dark. You be the judge.

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I asked her if she had made a mistake by pulling me over for basically NOTHING. She didn't wanna go that far, saying, how do I know you're not a deadbeat with 27 sub-machine guns in your back seat? I have, except for a BB rifle, never fired a gun IN MY LIFE. I asked her a bunch more questions about the law, and I could tell she wanted to get back in her nice, safe, dry, untinted-windows Cop Car, but I was trying to get into the mindset behind all these laws. As the traffic stop came to a close, the lady cop cut me loose and I once again got to breathe in the atmosphere of Sweet Freedom. She got back in her car and took off. I proceeded forward in my Car With The Newly-Determined-To-Be-Legally-Tinted Windows. I saw her driving towards the police station, and guess what: She tailgated an SUV for three blocks in order to get there.

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So anyway, I won. It was a rainy day, and I made her spend 15 minutes standing outside in the pouring rain, while I asked about her all the cop tactics that the paranoid side of me believes the cops try on everyone, to get them to admit something, to try and turn the detainee's words around to suit their own highly interrogative point of view. Have you ever seen one of those "shoot the ducks" games at the carnival? Instead of ducks, there should be little cut-out Cars which are then shot down by the cops, because that's how I believe law enforcement agencies deal with the public. The very public who is PAYING THEIR SALARIES. Hmph! Motorists, All motorists, are indeed Sitting Ducks for Law Enforcement.

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THE EYES HAVE IT: Okay, I told you that story so I could tell you about this one: The traffic stop referred to above made me late for my latest Eyeglasses appointment. I have been saving up this year so I Could Get Glasses. But, basically, the new glasses I'd just bought WERE ALL WRONG for me. Headaches, dizziness, and eye strain. So, I rescheduled, for ANOTHER eye exam, the one I was made late for by the aforementioned Cop Incident. For the second time, the eye doctor ran me through an infinite number of lens combinations until we found something that worked. But...my eyes are so different (basically one eye is great and the other one is, well, not great, not good, even). that the eye doctor told me all the changes I needed could not be performed with one set of lenses. Huh? What? She said that because my eyes differ so much, that one pair of all-around glasses absolutely could not be made. What the FORK???

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The best that can be done, is for me to use the glasses I have now for distance only (and they're great for distance viewing), but for reading or close-up work, I need another pair that focuses up close. In short, with the adjustments needed for my eyes, it's impossible to make one pair of bifocals to handle all my vision-related needs. What I'm getting, then, is a $400 dollar pair of READING GLASSES. Whoopee. I'd like to know if anybody else out there has even heard of this! Maybe it has something to do with the fact I want glass lenses. Plastic is a denser material in which modifications can be made with less material, and long ago I had plastic-lens bifocals made. But they were plastic lenses, rendered useless by my cleaning them on my shirt. Can you say "scratches"? I knew ya could. Finally, I must ask: Is it just me, or does the world Really Not Make Much Sense These Days?

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This, then, is my New Tactic for keeping things fresh in this blogsite. I just sit back and wait for stuff to happen to me, so I can take the entire world to task for not letting me have my way all the time. WHY NOT???? It's my blog, after all. This is Where I Rule. Or, at least one side of me tries to rule the other side of me. Can you say "Schizoid"? I knew ya could.

THE DAY THE TITANIC SANK, THE DAY LINCOLN DIED...
...oh, it must be my Birthday again...
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Fifty-six, how about that. Actually, I'd almost forgotten. And it probably doesn't matter. After all, it's just "time", right? All of us, just going through however much time any of us has left on this big bluish asteroid-thing flinging its way through Space. I don't look for 'events' which define my existence; I'm not especially observant of holiday events these days. I'm turning into a stick in the mud. I haven't gone to a July 4th celebration in two years now. Maybe I'll toss a Turkey TV dinner in the microwave for Thanksgiving; I just don't do big get-togethers with people anymore. I've been through my wild drinking days for a long, long time now. I don't really party or celebrate much of anything. I'm at the point of trying to 'flow with the curreent'. If anything, I just need to be easier on myself. That's my biggest fault, and it's tough to overcome. Some people have egos. I don't have one. So I'm just kinda bumpin' my way through life.
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OKAY, UNCLE SAM, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? I made a huge stink back a while ago when I refused to mail in my Census questionnaire. Why? Because, stamped on the envelope was the admonition, "You are required to fill this out BY LAW". On TV ads, or in newspapers are listed all the good reasons to fill out the Census form. "Each Census Answer will get the state of Oregon $1200 more dollars in a calendar year". Or, "Do Your Part as an American". But my census form arrived in a menacing envelope THREATENING me with recourse should I not fill out my form. The very government I'm paying for, will PENALIZE me if I didn't fill out the damn form. Go to a restaurant, and scream at the waitress, "DAMMIT, HURRY UP WITH MY FILET MIGNON AND YOU BETTER NOT BRING ME ANY OF THAT CHEAP ROTGUT WINE", and imagine the response you'd get to that. I don't like to be pushed around. BY ANYONE. So when I saw the threat of legal recourse on my Census Envelope, I just tossed it. I think the Federal Government has absolutely no skill in trying to Understand People. I got an e-mail explaining to me why I should fill out the form. Whoever composed that e-mail did their best to be human about the whole thing. And so I got with it. Another Census form arrived in my mailbox, again THREATENING ME if I didn't fill it out. But I filled it out. It will soon be in the hands of some mid-level pencil-pushing bureaucrat android who is probably paid waay too much for what he does. One more thing: April 15th. My birthday. And it's also when income taxes are due. Whoopee.
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A TAXING SITUATION: Every year, I go to the free tax help service which is operated by Senior Citizens who donate their time. Which means the federal government gets a whole lot of brain power it wouldn't otherwise have, absolutely FREE. Plus, think how much the Gov't is saving by E-filing everyone's return. Hmmm...those gov't guys are sharp sometimes, aren't they? When I get to the tax place, I bring in all my papers and statements and I have absolutely no idea what's going on as they sift through various income amounts and percentages...I try to look them in the eye as if I'm actually understanding what they're trying to tell me. It's sort of like Charlie Brown in the Classroom. You know, where the teacher's voice sounds like "wok a wok a wokka-wok". Which is probably what dogs hear when we try to talk to them. "Wok a wok a wokka-wok". (The dog is thinking, if I can figure out what he's saying, I'll get a treat). "Wok a wok a wokka-wok." (Is he saying 'fetch?' I can do that!!!) Ruff. Anyway, back to the taxes...The Senior Citizens obviously have long backgrounds in tax preparation; they know their stuff. And it's a lot more affordable than H.R. Blockhead. Matter of fact, it's FREE. Now that's the best service YET.
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THE EYES HAVE IT: My Eyes absolutely refuse to work together anymore. When I'm mangling my laptop computer (as now), I'm basically looking thru my Right Eye. The screen totally blurs in my left eye. But when I read in bed, I'm looking thru my Left Eye, since it focuses up closer than the Right Eye. So when I'm trying to write something (you know, "writing", that thing we used to do before computers), I see two different lines going two different directions and I'm lucky I can write a sentence, let alone "War and Peace". (You know, a book; those big things we had before the internet.) When I go shopping, in most cases anymore, I just put my glasses in my pocket and stand back as far as I can from the item I want, so I can see its price...with one eye or the other, depending how far away I'm standing. When I take pictures with the digi-cam, I pull my glasses halfway down my nose, so I can look over them and see what's in the picture I'm about to take. And guitar playing becomes guesswork; on the upper side of the guitar's neck are little 'dots' which tell you where you're at; I can't see those dots. This is just getting NUTS. So I'll be getting new glasses. Almost $150 for the eye exam, followed by THREE EASY PAYMENTS of $170 each! (Am I starting to sound like Billy May yet?) "BUT I'M NOT DONE..." It would be cheaper if I was going for plastic lenses, but I'm a wipe-yer-glasses-on-yer-sleeve person, and plastic lenses can't endure that for very long. I know from experience. So, it's glass lenses for me. Glass lenses might weigh more, but when you consider I'm already carrying around a size 8-and-a-half head, I don't notice the extra weight.
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BUY ME SOME PEANUTS AND CRACKER JACKS...Well, I can't do either, 'cos I have dentures; I can just hear it now; "CRACK" followed by my dentures reduced to shrapnel inside my mouth. But Baseball season is here! The Seattle Mariners aren't playing tonight (Awww...) so I'm watching a minor-league game right now...the Colorado Springs Skysox and the Portland Beavers...tied 1-1 in the 11th inning. (The Portland Beavers ended up winning 2-1) But of course I've cast my lot with the Mariners. They had a slow start to the season, but events over their last couple of games show some fairly surprising hitting power from some of the players they traded for. One of them is Milton Bradley; every time I hear his name I think of the manufacturers of Board (as opposed to Bored) games...you know, in the TV commercials...made by Milton-Bradley!!! The Mariners have won their last two games, those being home games; hopefully they can do a little better on the road, but we'll see. Meanwhile, I've got my 25th Anniversary-of-the-Mariners baseball (which came out several years ago), and recently at a Thrift Store I found a brand new 2007 "Opening Day" baseball. Alas, it looks like the local radio station isn't carrying Mariners' games (!!!), but that's okay. If I park my car in a certain place near the ocean, I can pick up 1080 'The Fan' out of Portland, which is at least 250 miles from here. A fan does what he must in order to survive. Or I can just go home and watch it on cable TV.
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Seen on a Church Billboard down here: "The oldest form of Social Security is Suspenders." And, just today, another one, in the guise of a bumper sticker..."Prevent abortions...use condoms". Sage advice for the ages, for sure.

FROM THE MUSICAL CAPITAL OF THE WORLD...An ALL-STAR JAM featuring LEGENDARY GUITARISTS of the SOUTHERN OREGON COAST!!!

Okay, okay, maybe I'm getting Just a Little Bit carried away. After all, some folks call this place "Snooze Bay"...which it might just be...which is okay with me; life just seems to bang along too fast, and with each year, time seems to go by faster. So it's important to put that time to good use (can that really be me talking?).

I've lived down here going on four years now. I've written more than my share about the beach, the clean air, and the fact that snow (well, actually more like frozen rain pellets) covers the streets one or two days a year, and that by 10am, any precip has melted away. So I won't rub that in your face. I promise.

Someone told me that it always takes at least a couple of years before they feel at home in a new place. I think that person was "Cis", one of my two blog-followers. Two blog-devotees. Talk about yer 'epic proportions'. Anyway, what with having been really ill with flu my first year here, resulting in Vertigo, which I'm still trying to shake, and doing the Denture thing, which took an awful lot of my energy the second year I was down here, and basically just trying to find my way down here, I haven't really had much opportunity to ingratiate my presence in any sort of definitive way. Really.

A couple of years ago, whilst shopping in a thrift store at the record rack, I was talking to another person looking thru all the dead vinyl, and we began talking about music, then the conversation "morphed" into what's going on around the area, I'm new here, etc. etc. I was invited to bring my guitar to where some hand drummers were playing, and we've all been doing that for quite a while now. Along the way, I've met some other guitar players who've come into our little circle also, and, well, anything goes. As long as the song is kept to 20-minutes, that is...that's our "20-minute rule".

We've all been doing that twice a week, bashing guitars and banging on drums, when all of a sudden, there was a Third Night, which is more of an open-mic sort of thing led by a very congenial host, so we all get some "solo" mike-time, and then after all the soloists are done, then all hell breaks loose and, gentlemen, start yer engines, 'cos an all-out everybody-jam takes place, and whatever happens is totally unpredictable, as you'll see in the YouTube clip below...a bluesy version of "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On"...this is an 8-minute clip, which means I have, according to Andy Warhol, exactly 7-more minutes of fame to use up someday, somewhere...

I'm on the far left in this video. This was the first night I played my Dad's old guitar; I'd just had it worked on at the music store. So on this nite I was "sighting in" my instrument, not sure of what sounds I'd be able to get out of it. Occasions like this are fun for me, because somebody else can run things, and I can be more of a supporting player. My playing tends to veer off-course into the ditch, but hey, that's what makes it interesting. I've played more guitar since I've been down here, then where I lived before, up in the land of the Floating Green.

So after posting tons and tons of serious stuff in my last few posts, I thot I'd "mail this one in", and so, voila...Instant Post. I'm still working on 1,000 posts, and I'm Not Quite There Yet. Still have a few to go. After 1,000, I'm not sure what's gonna happen with this blog. Sometimes I feel like my posts are just being "ground out" these days. I now blog in Precious Stolen Moments. Hence the ultra-early posting time you see at the bottom of this entry.

As far as my guitar playing goes, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, or the unknown guitar-star of Twisty Creek, Alberta have absolutely nothing to worry about. They'll get no serious competition from me. But hey, it's fun. If it ain't fun...it ain't worth doin'!

A REQUIEM OF SORTS...
...for someone I's never met...
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A couple of years ago, I bought some records over Ebay, and I corresponded with the seller about various facets of the records I had bought from him. This was back in the final days of 2006. He was an old Bob Dylan fan, and while I did not share his desire for Everything Dylan, I was at least familiar enough with Bob Dylan's music (I've got probably 20 of his albums) so I could correspond with him on a semi-intelligent basis. As happens, a discussion about one artist can meander in many different directions, and even though Joe was several years older than me, we struck up a fast friendship and sent lots of e-mails back and forth.
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He began sending me stuff. He had various projects he needed to have done, such as making CD's from his old cassette tapes, all of them hand-lettered with song titles and other info. He let me keep all the tapes he sent to me; he was trying to get everything converted to CD, and so I stayed up late doing that kind of stuff for him. Turns out he was also a big Beatles fan, and he sent me a very good copy of The Beatles' Christmas Album, which floored me. He also sent me 20 or 30 Beatles Bootleg vinyl discs! In his package, he'd tell me what songs from which album to put on CD, and of course, I'd drop everything and stay up late to get that stuff done for him. And I got to keep all the vinyl and cassettes he sent me. A good deal, eh?
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I guess he knew quite a few people from near and far, and he would make special CD packages for them. He didn't have the equipment to put them on CD himself, although he could make copies of what I'd sent him from his computer. He also sent me some 1980's vintage Beatles newsletters, which employed low-tech mimeographed typewriter copy in the articles. Each issue featured several pages stapled together. Kinda gives one insight into how information was disseminated before the days of the internet. Those old raggedy newsletters look very, very rough, but that's part of the charm. Also, he'd told me that he also liked Neil Young, but wasn't all that familiar with his albums. He was about as familiar with 'Neil' as I was with 'Dylan'. So, I took my 20-plus Neil Young albums and made him a bunch of CD's; after all, I felt he had to find out what all Neil Young had recorded. In a way, "Neil" is my 'Dylan'. So I wanted to share.
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Joe evidently had a hard time getting through life, especially in the cold winters where he lived, in Reading, Pennsylvania. He would tell me that he'd been trying to find good items he could sell on Ebay, and he also had have some Veterans' Benefits coming in. We talked about a whole bunch of stuff; he'd send me long e-mails and I'd reply with even longer e-mails; no subject was safe. We'd 'trash' George W. Bush, we'd gripe about the economy, he'd tell me about his cat and I'd tell him about my bird, he'd ask me if I'd ever heard some particular artist, I'd ask him the same, since we both came from different backgrounds. He sent me several old cassettes and CD's full of old-time blues and folk. Joe really liked Tiny Tim, would you believe. "Tiny" did a lot to keep old songs alive; he wasn't just "Tiptoe Thru The Tulips" and that's it. Joe even met Tiny Tim once; it was one of his proudest moments. And we talked baseball, too. He was an unabashed Phillies fan, and me, I live and die with the Seattle Mariners, what can I say?
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I thought about Joe quite a lot, and in our e-mails, I would ask him, "are you all right? Are you depressed?". And I'd tell him to just hang on, for things are bound to get better, at least, someday. Joe had given me all of these CD's, Records and old Fan Club Newsletters, and I began worrying about him because he kept giving me stuff. Not that I was unthankful; he really loaded me up with things I thot I'd never ever get to hear. At the same time, a thought crept into my brain...why was he giving me all this stuff? He wanted to make sure I didn't throw away his Beatles newsletters. I've still got those, plus 3 boxes of cassette tapes he sent me, and tons of great Beatles bootlegs which he sent me. That's almost the holy grail of Beatles collecting...the Bootleg Stuff!
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I'd heard that when People are contemplating their mortality, and they decide to 'not be living anymore', one of the signs to watch for is the person all of a sudden giving their things away. I could tell Joe was depressed in his e-mails, and I'd ask him, "Hey, you're giving me all this stuff; are you okay? You're not going to do anything drastic, are ya?" and he'd never answer that head-on. I know about cold winters when you can't find a friend, and you're so depressed that you just wanna lock yourself away. He had also told me about his various health problems; he said he was getting frail, he'd tell me he'd been sick; he told me he was down to his last few dollars, taking day-labor jobs so he could eat...and also buy food for his beloved kitty-cat. While I am not a veteran, I do understand how a cold winter and hard life can affect a person. I've been through that stage in life.
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We corresponded almost daily with long e-mails and just talked about tons of stuff. I would always look forward to his e-mails, because they gave me a platform to unscramble all my thoughts and send those back to him. I felt like I made a very, very good friend; you know that inner-warmth a good friendship can bring? I had that for him. I would like to think that by corresponding with me, he knew there was at least one other person on the planet that felt the way he did about things. I never had a big brother, but through having a friend like him, I felt like I was accepted by someone older and wiser. A kinship, perhaps?
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As happens, sometimes friendships wane. We corresponded from Winter 2006 until Spring of 2008. After that, I didn't hear from him. I tried e-mailing him, no answer. I've been thinking about him lately because, I've found some Bootleg Bob Dylan stuff including one CD of a performance in Germany. I wrote Joe a couple of hours ago, telling him what I'd found, offering to make CD's for him. I never did get one of those "mailer Daemon" notifications that my e-mails didn't go through. But this time I had to know how he was doing, and "something" led me to do a search. I found the website of a paper which serves the general area he lived in, plunked down his name on the 'search archives' button, and there it was...
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In the newspaper, on December 31, 2008, an article said that a 62-year-old man had been found dead in his home. It was Joe. Friends hadn't seen him for a few days, and the coroner had ruled his death a suicide. At that point, officials were still trying to find a 'next of kin'. This age of the internet brings us a lot of advantages, but it can also bring heartache, and while I'm not 'kin', I feel a great loss here. I got to share my thoughts with him, and he'd do the same, and it was nice knowing there's someone out there who I can relate to. I just found all this out about an hour ago, and so I'm trying to deal with it, the result being this post. I'm gonna miss ya, Joe. He was a really good friend.
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The Internet Brings Good Things, too. That's where I got to know ol' Joe, and for that, I'm glad. I never saw him, never heard him, but all the same, he was a great, great friend. Those kind of people don't come along every day.

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN...
...guess I'm Reeling In The Years...Stowing away the time...
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The rain may never fall 'till after sundown
By Eight the morning fog must disappear
In short, there's simply not a more congenial spot
For happy-ever-aftering
Than here in...Camelot...
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While looking thru the books at the local Goodwill Store recently, I came upon a rather big book, the cover of which was titled simply, "The Torch Has Been Passed". It contains a ton of photos and relevant news copy. Published by the Associated Press, it's no 'what happened way back when' kinda book; rather, it sums up those four gloomy days in November 1963 from a "we want you to know what happened a few days ago" standpoint. Within the book are some eyewitness accounts; a 14-year-old boy says one minute the President was smiling and waving; the next, his face lost all expression after being struck in the upper back by the First Shot. A motorcycle policeman riding 6 feet away from the Presidential Limousine, talks about how JFK's head "exploded in blood". And just like that, President John F. Kennedy was gone. Parkland hospital doctors told the Associated Press that had the President lived, he would've been a 'vegetable', and that it was better off that the President die. A gloomy thought, that, but I guess it's true.
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The tragedy is not JFK's; it's ours. JFK had already left the scene and zipped up to that Presidential Podium in the sky. Tragedy is for those who have lived through it, not for those who have fallen. Kennedy was almost certainly dead by the time he reached Parkland Hospital, if he managed to live that long. The Associated Press book reflects upon this, saying that "The President probably didn't know what hit him". Indeed, the Zapruder film (which I've played over and over and over on YouTube) shows Kennedy slumping towards his wife after being hit by the first bullet, and as she moves in closer to determine what's going on, BLAM! Another bullet hit Kennedy in the head, ripping his skull apart, missing Jackie by mere inches. And just like that, A Leader Is Gone. And with that, it looks like we've entered the age of the Expendable Leader. Don't like em? Blow 'em away! BLAM! Bobby Kennedy. BLAM! Anwar Sadat. BLAM! Martin Luther King, Jr. BLAM! George Wallace. BLAM! John Lennon. BLAM! Pope John Paul II. I guess George Wallace and The Pope had God on their side, though; they weren't killed outright. Wallace did die from complications of his gun-related paralysis a few years later, and the Mighty Pope's body Just Wore Out. And while Lennon wasn't a politician, he and Yoko were always a rather notorious pairing. Teddy Kennedy didn't need to be gunned down; he threw away any chance he might have for the Presidency that evening in 1969 when he and a companion took that drive to Chappaquiddick. In a way, he kinda assassinated himself.
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We're all receding into the past as new generations make their presence known. I keep seeing the image of Leonardo DaCaprio ("Jack") in the Titanic movie, letting go of Rose's hand and slipping, slipping, fading away into the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean...and in a way, we're all fading away. Even if they had lived out what constitutes a normal life span, they might have died of natural causes anyway. JFK would be 93 this year. John Lennon would be 70. So they might've passed anyway due to, say, heart attacks/brain aneurysms/assorted infections/or whatever else. I keep thinking the world would be a much different place had President Kennedy been allowed to finish the job he was undertaking. I keep thinking of John Lennon, and what would've he done after December 8th, 1980. More exciting solo music? Or heaven forbid, a Beatles Reunion? We'll never know. And so tragedies make us become wistful; an unfailed promise, a premature ending, what could've been. I've probably wasted valuable time lately, dreaming about what could've been had President Kennedy lived...but still, one can't help but wonder...
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Would we have ended up the same way in Vietnam with Kennedy as President? How would our economy have fared? Would President Kennedy win a second term? Perhaps then he could've handed the Presidental baton to Brother Bobby in 1968. Had JFK lived, who knows what he would've done with the rest of his life? He was still very young when he died, after all. Ambassador Kennedy, maybe? Or would he have taken some much-needed time off from the Political Machine he'd been a part of for so long? Sure, it may be foolish to think like that. I also wonder what John Lennon would have done or have become had he lived. I think JFK, and later, brother Bobby, pointed the way towards idealism, and because they were both taken away from us, the Presidency slipped back into the hands of Professional Politicians from the Old School. Sad...
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I'll stop now before it becomes painfully obvious that I'm not well-versed as far as Politics goes. What I do know is that once again, after a long, torturious, exhausting time span, we've again got ourselves an Idealistic President. Congress seems to be fighting him all the way, but maybe, he will do a lot of good things.