Smoking. One of the great vices mankind has ever created. Sure, it's a habit that will eventually kill you, but lots of things can kill you. Everybody dies of something. Just the dirty looks we get from the healthy and self-righteous, our nonsmoking moral superiors, silently castigating us for indulging the habit outside of our workplaces, our bars and restaurants, can sometimes kill. But that's not the point...my 20-year love affair with the demon weed (well, one of them...) is over.
Last Saturday, I QUIT SMOKING! (Again. I quit for 3+ years in the late 90's, early 00's before resuming the habit during an adventurous, drunken week in Buenos Aires.). How? A visit to The Mad Russian did the trick.
Some of you may have heard of the Mad Russian; some of you may have seen him yourself. If you haven't...he isn't Rasputin. No long beard, no Czarist ghosts floating overhead, no mysticism whatsoever. Yefim Shubetsov is a rather avuncular Russian emigre with a unique ability to cure people of their vices, primarily smoking, drug & alcohol addictions, anxiety and depression, and weight loss. There is sometimes a month-long wait to attend one of his sessions, all due to incredible word of mouth. The man doesn't advertise, has no website, yet has people from all over the country coming to Washington Square in Brookline seeking a miracle.
My appointment was at 3p. Naturally, I was 15 minutes late. Chainsmoked all the way there, hurriedly crushing out the final one in front of the nondescript Brownstone that houses his office. The sidewalk in front of the place littered with butts, the last nervous puffery of the latest group seeking smoke-free salvation. As I headed up the stairs, I feared being shut out of the session, of being sternly disciplined for my tardiness by some wild-eyed Russian mystic. "I wonder if he can cure my chronic lack of punctuality?" I thought. Anyway-the secretary at the front desk greeted me in Russian, and when I quizzically looked up at her and responded with "huh?" she switched to English and said "you look Russian, sorry." No need to apologize; I am of Russian ancestry. I just don't speak it. So she leads me into his office, crowded with 15 people sitting on ordinary hardwood chairs forming a U. He stops his speech as I enter, feeling my face go red with embarrassment at interrupting with my lateness (you'd think I'd be immune to it by now). He says "that's ok, there's traffic and rain and life supposed to be miserable!" And then, like a teacher scolding a misbehaving 3rd grader, he gets another chair and places it to the immediate left of his desk, the teacher going to keep an eye on this new, trouble-making student.
Once settled, he resumes. "Life supposed to be miserable!" he exclaims, a few times. He's hard to understand, the accent very thick and the pace of speech quite rapid. All 16 of us lean in, trying to concentrate on what he's saying, and trying to ignore the nicotine cravings we're all feeling. He fleshes out the life-as-misery thesis, that because of all the rogue nations harboring nuclear weapons we're all doomed anyway. The history of wars, of mankind's cruelty to mankind from the beginning of time right thru that morning. The millions of deaths due to religious zealotry, the rise of communism in the land of his birth, of Lenin killing 60 million people. Shit, I was beginning to agree with him!
Then he moves on, speaking faster...he asks each person if they have any pain, anxiety or depression. For pain, he holds up his hand and waves it in their general direction, apparently imbued with the ability to manipulate energy and, as he claims, "I do not create pain, I remove pain." A few people claim that their pain is suddenly lessened or gone altogether. Myself included...I don't know if it was a psychological trick or just a way to get him to leave me alone or whatever, but I did feel the usual dull ache in my right knee dissipate. For those who acknowledged anxiety and/or depression, he asked if they were on medication. He hates medication, says he'll cure it right then and there, all the power to cure any disease is in the brain. We only use 6 percent of our brains, after all. So much more power there to harness. Told an anecdote of a teenager with terminal cancer curing himself with the power of thought. It starts becoming clear, that we're going to stop smoking thru sheer brainpower...
After the healing game (thank you, Van Morrison), he moves on to another long lecture, a lot of it hard to understand as his pace of speech quickens again, but the gist of it coming thru. His success rate, treating 134,000 people over the last 29 years or so, and only 1% ever coming back for a second treatment...so he claims. This being the only time we'll ever have to pay-we can come back again, call him anytime, never be charged another dime. But the gist of it: "Nothing instead of cigarettes," "do not try, do not give it your best, just do it. DO IT!" and "when you crave cigarette, think about something else." Seems simple, right? It is. Don't replace one addiction with another. "No carrots, no gum, no fruit, no water, no patches, no nothing!" Um, ok. "Just do it" is so deceptively simple, yet it applies to so many areas of life. Just do it-no qualifiers, no bet-hedging. I can do that. "Think about something else! Humans can only focus on one thing at a time!" Again, sounds so simple, but it does work, and since there was a really, really attractive older woman in the group, I concentrated on her when I got the urge to smoke. It worked! Except I was really horny and she was really, really not interested. Not that I'd have acted upon it, but still...hey, there I go again, thinking about something else and not smoking!
At the end, he ushered us all out of the room, lining us up single file for a brief, one-on-one consultation. When my turn came, I sat down as instructed. "Close your eyes," he said, "and think to yourself 'I am smoking.' When you picture this, nothing fancy, raise your hand." I did, and he made some weird noise with his mouth, waved his energy-field-manipulating hand over my head, and that's that. Then asked if I had any other problems. Buddy, you have no idea. But I copped to anxiety, which is true to an extent. Same thing, close eyes, picture an anxiety-inducing situation, weird noise and the hand wave again, and it's over. I shook his hand, he said "you have good body for a man, do this and be healthy" (as opposed to having a good body for a dancing bear?) and he opened the door to his waiting room, where the secretary stood waiting to collect my $65 fee.
I drove home feeling eerily calm. No craving for a smoke. Got home, and after a few hours felt the DT's settling in nicely. It is still a major drug addiction, after all. Got a good strong dose of nausea, the shakes, and sweating profusely. Remember the scene in "Ray" where he falls off the bed in the rehab place? Yeah, kinda like that. But I toughed it out...the last few days have not been easy, in that I'm still really jittery, but I'm also smoke-free. I'm also afraid to eat, which is a side effect of his "most important! Next 10 days, you do this wrong you get fat as an elephant!" speech. Fuck. "Nothing in place of cigarettes! You eat normal meals, that's it. No snacks, no nothing!" So I'm smoke-free and manorexic. It's always something. Anyway-I don't know how it actually works, I just know that his Russian Voodoo Shit took hold of me and I don't smoke anymore. Truth be told, I have chewed a couple pieces of Nicotine gum per day, usually at night when the jitters are at their worst and I'm shaking like Michael J. Fox in that stem-cell ad he did last year. Whatever. As he said during his monologue, he's saving my life. I'm saving my life. Best $65 I ever spent. Dos Vadanya!
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Home
Mission accomplished. Unlike the President, that statement is true.
The trip wrapped up on a very high note. Charlottesville is a beautiful little city, centered around the University of Virginia. I kicked around town a bit before going to my friend Nick's house, taking in the main tourist attraction, which is an outdoor pedestrian mall much like the Flatiron Mall in Boulder (and built by the same developer. Hello, homogeneity). Still, it's a wonderful place for a stroll, populated by local merchants and restaurants-thankfully, no chain stores. It's interesting though that even the places meant to be unique, meant to be the antithesis of big-box sameness, all share the same characteristics in their attempts at anti-. I've been to that mall before, without ever having set foot in Charlottesville before. Your local coffeehouse, the one that's not Starbucks, with the free WiFi and poetry readings and eclectic menu? There's one in every city.
Nick lives in a community of brand-new houses that sits on land that until four years ago was an apple orchard. Beautiful setting though; the foliage-laden Virginia mountains stand tall in the backdrop, and the houses are all built to appear as though they've been there for generations. Big front porches, manicured lawns, a central green with a community gazebo. Great schools nearby, neighbors who actually know each other, whose kids play together. Met Nick's lovely wife Dominique for the first time, and then his three boys, 9,5, and 2. Beautiful family, and as I'd previously only known Nick in the radio/music business world, I really dug getting to see that side of him.
We headed off to King's Family Vineyards, less than a mile away from Chez Nick. Did a tasting, bought several bottles to bring home. Bought an extra bottle to drink there, sitting on the front porch of the winery and catching up on life while staring out at the polo fields and the mountains behind them. Discussed the future of the business, my future within it, reviewing opportunities and philosophizing on life in general. Then, with a strong wine buzz intact, we stopped back at the house to check on the wife & kids (well, he did. I just had to take a leak.) before heading into town again. Dinnertime, with another old friend of mine.
My friend Andrew Silver is the chef/owner of a fabulous restaurant in Charlottesville called Zocalo. Do go there should you be in town. Andrew is the younger brother of Adam, one of the Myrtle Beach 8 and part of the extended group. After greetings all around, Nick & I were set up like real VIP's, going thru a series of dishes that were all perfectly done. Tuna tartare, spicy without overwhelming the fish. Mussels steamed in chili broth, duck confit (all for me; Nick's a vegetarian for some reason), fried cheese in a raspberry-chili glaze. Scallops for Nick, duck breast for me, with an onion & manchego bread pudding. Oh, and the brussels sprouts...never liked 'em before, but goddam if Andrew didn't make me a believer. Shredded brussels sprouts with a smoky bacon. Chocolate bread pudding with a Bailey's/espresso sauce to end it, along with several glasses of various wines in between. We left stuffed and slightly drunk, the way you should leave any meal. Including breakfast.
Quick aside to address a pet peeve: it's not EX-presso, it's ES-presso. Fuckin' idiots...it's not "ex-presso" because it speeds you up. If you don't know the difference, get the hell out of Starbucks or your pseudo-hipster coffee house.
Anyway-got back to the house just before midnight, jumped online to check email and another IM session that lasted an hour or so (and happy to have had the opportunity to communicate with that person) before falling asleep. Woke up early...as I live alone, I'm not used to the sound of three kids crashing around the house at 7 in the morning. Breakfast with the family, some amazingly strong coffee, and then hit the road. The road home.
On Nick's advice (correct, as it turned out) I skipped the major highways in favor of the scenic route. I just can't get over the natural beauty of Virginia. Rolling hills, foliage, horses, pristine roads. Headed out on 64, then up 81 along Skyway Drive on the edge of Shenandoah National Forest. Up 81 thru Pennsylvania, weather getting cloudy and drizzly. More horses. Up thru Jersey to pick up 95 in Fort Lee, over the GW bridge (not that GW, the one who actually had a fuckin' clue and founded this country on an idealism that actually had the best interests of its average citizens as its central tenet). Ugh. Rush hour in Manhatttan. White knuckle time. Gridlock out to the Merritt Parkway. Ultimately, a 12-hour journey home, all the while reflecting on the trip and what it all meant, what it all boils down to...
The goal was clarity. Putting some distance, literally and figuratively, between myself and my recent past. The goal was attained. Remembering who I am, how far I've come and where I want to go. Who I want to go with. WBOS now seems like a distant memory, a faded mental photograph that you look at once in a while and remember fondly, forgetting the ugly moments. Was I really only away for 11 days? Felt much longer, like I'd become a gypsy traveling aimlessly across the land. Many times throughout I felt like a ghost floating thru the ephemera of other people's lives, not really supposed to be there but causing no harm, no rip in the continuum. Saw the two America's, but we'll save that diatribe for another post. 2600 miles over a week & a half gives a man a lot of time to think about what's really important to him, who the people are that really matter in this life. Jobs will come and go. Success is important, sure, but what does any of it ultimately matter without our closest friends and family to share it with? People matter more than anything else. Love can conquer all, even if only on a microscale. Love yourself, love your friends and family. Happiness will stem from there.
There was one person in particular who was constantly on my mind, one person above all the others that I will do anything for, one person who matters most. That's the clarity I sought. The confirmation of something I already knew intrinsically. I can't write about it here; hell, I can't even mention a name. It's just for me. For us. Here I come...
The trip wrapped up on a very high note. Charlottesville is a beautiful little city, centered around the University of Virginia. I kicked around town a bit before going to my friend Nick's house, taking in the main tourist attraction, which is an outdoor pedestrian mall much like the Flatiron Mall in Boulder (and built by the same developer. Hello, homogeneity). Still, it's a wonderful place for a stroll, populated by local merchants and restaurants-thankfully, no chain stores. It's interesting though that even the places meant to be unique, meant to be the antithesis of big-box sameness, all share the same characteristics in their attempts at anti-. I've been to that mall before, without ever having set foot in Charlottesville before. Your local coffeehouse, the one that's not Starbucks, with the free WiFi and poetry readings and eclectic menu? There's one in every city.
Nick lives in a community of brand-new houses that sits on land that until four years ago was an apple orchard. Beautiful setting though; the foliage-laden Virginia mountains stand tall in the backdrop, and the houses are all built to appear as though they've been there for generations. Big front porches, manicured lawns, a central green with a community gazebo. Great schools nearby, neighbors who actually know each other, whose kids play together. Met Nick's lovely wife Dominique for the first time, and then his three boys, 9,5, and 2. Beautiful family, and as I'd previously only known Nick in the radio/music business world, I really dug getting to see that side of him.
We headed off to King's Family Vineyards, less than a mile away from Chez Nick. Did a tasting, bought several bottles to bring home. Bought an extra bottle to drink there, sitting on the front porch of the winery and catching up on life while staring out at the polo fields and the mountains behind them. Discussed the future of the business, my future within it, reviewing opportunities and philosophizing on life in general. Then, with a strong wine buzz intact, we stopped back at the house to check on the wife & kids (well, he did. I just had to take a leak.) before heading into town again. Dinnertime, with another old friend of mine.
My friend Andrew Silver is the chef/owner of a fabulous restaurant in Charlottesville called Zocalo. Do go there should you be in town. Andrew is the younger brother of Adam, one of the Myrtle Beach 8 and part of the extended group. After greetings all around, Nick & I were set up like real VIP's, going thru a series of dishes that were all perfectly done. Tuna tartare, spicy without overwhelming the fish. Mussels steamed in chili broth, duck confit (all for me; Nick's a vegetarian for some reason), fried cheese in a raspberry-chili glaze. Scallops for Nick, duck breast for me, with an onion & manchego bread pudding. Oh, and the brussels sprouts...never liked 'em before, but goddam if Andrew didn't make me a believer. Shredded brussels sprouts with a smoky bacon. Chocolate bread pudding with a Bailey's/espresso sauce to end it, along with several glasses of various wines in between. We left stuffed and slightly drunk, the way you should leave any meal. Including breakfast.
Quick aside to address a pet peeve: it's not EX-presso, it's ES-presso. Fuckin' idiots...it's not "ex-presso" because it speeds you up. If you don't know the difference, get the hell out of Starbucks or your pseudo-hipster coffee house.
Anyway-got back to the house just before midnight, jumped online to check email and another IM session that lasted an hour or so (and happy to have had the opportunity to communicate with that person) before falling asleep. Woke up early...as I live alone, I'm not used to the sound of three kids crashing around the house at 7 in the morning. Breakfast with the family, some amazingly strong coffee, and then hit the road. The road home.
On Nick's advice (correct, as it turned out) I skipped the major highways in favor of the scenic route. I just can't get over the natural beauty of Virginia. Rolling hills, foliage, horses, pristine roads. Headed out on 64, then up 81 along Skyway Drive on the edge of Shenandoah National Forest. Up 81 thru Pennsylvania, weather getting cloudy and drizzly. More horses. Up thru Jersey to pick up 95 in Fort Lee, over the GW bridge (not that GW, the one who actually had a fuckin' clue and founded this country on an idealism that actually had the best interests of its average citizens as its central tenet). Ugh. Rush hour in Manhatttan. White knuckle time. Gridlock out to the Merritt Parkway. Ultimately, a 12-hour journey home, all the while reflecting on the trip and what it all meant, what it all boils down to...
The goal was clarity. Putting some distance, literally and figuratively, between myself and my recent past. The goal was attained. Remembering who I am, how far I've come and where I want to go. Who I want to go with. WBOS now seems like a distant memory, a faded mental photograph that you look at once in a while and remember fondly, forgetting the ugly moments. Was I really only away for 11 days? Felt much longer, like I'd become a gypsy traveling aimlessly across the land. Many times throughout I felt like a ghost floating thru the ephemera of other people's lives, not really supposed to be there but causing no harm, no rip in the continuum. Saw the two America's, but we'll save that diatribe for another post. 2600 miles over a week & a half gives a man a lot of time to think about what's really important to him, who the people are that really matter in this life. Jobs will come and go. Success is important, sure, but what does any of it ultimately matter without our closest friends and family to share it with? People matter more than anything else. Love can conquer all, even if only on a microscale. Love yourself, love your friends and family. Happiness will stem from there.
There was one person in particular who was constantly on my mind, one person above all the others that I will do anything for, one person who matters most. That's the clarity I sought. The confirmation of something I already knew intrinsically. I can't write about it here; hell, I can't even mention a name. It's just for me. For us. Here I come...
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Carolina On My Mind
Funny, I'm really not a JT fan but the title seems apropo...
Myrtle Beach was a blast. It's all a hazy blur, a swirl of laughter and beers and old friends and an off-season beach resort that in 20 years will be honky-tonk Miami Beach. The beach itself is beautiful, most of its long stretch built up with hotels and condos, and it's very cheap to stay there. We had a penthouse condo, 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms that is clearly worse for the wear after our stay...
The details of the bachelor party, the dirty little secrets (such as they are; nothing untoward or outrageous occurred aside from massive alcohol abuse) will remain in our collective memories. What I will share is the fondness I have for all these guys; most of them are guys I grew up with. The two Adams I've known since preschool, Dave and Yosef since junior high. Yosef's cousin Stephen, who's a few years older than we are but a guy I've known for 20 years and always enjoy hanging with. Steve's a raconteur of the first order, a huge and hugely entertaining character who may not be everybody's cup of T&T because of his rather colorful vocabulary but as big-hearted a guy as you'll meet. Stefan and Alex are somewhat more recent acquaintances, but good dudes both. I'm just very proud and very humbled to have friends like these...seeing the guys I've grown up with, from kickball in the schoolyard to junior-high mischief, high school keg parties at each other's houses and various wooded areas, the years at UMass and then jobs, weddings, moves to various parts of the country and kids, and now another wedding on the horizon...to be a part of that story is really something. Jobs will come and go, careers and the day-to-day minutiae that consumes our lives, but our friends and family are what matter, what make us the people that we are. Being in Myrtle Beach and sinking back into familiar roles, albeit slightly more mellowed than years ago...Dave George still stirring the pot, throwing out outrageous opinions just to see where the conversation will go. Yosef noticing every little slip, maintaining a running commentary on the proceedings whilst quietly driving them. Adam Silver relaxed as always, going with the flow and enjoying it all. Adam Sachs his usual all-out self, whether it be golf or tequila shots or Golden Tee. Me, far more comfortable in my own skin now than I ever was as a teenager or in my 20's but still the sarcastic smartass...I think what I'll remember most from that portion of the trip is laughter. Laughter over dinner, over drinks, during marathon Golden Tee sessions (as with most video games, which I play very infrequently, I suck at this one, which is why I play video games very infrequently), laughing in the morning during shared-hangover time and on the balcony just bullshitting with each other. These guys will always be my friends, my family, regardless of how often or not we see each other. So god bless you all, and thanks for a great time. We'll pick it up at the wedding next month.
Heading out of Myrtle on Sunday was a chore. So hungover and tired and feeling sick. A situation at home just constantly on my mind, but nothing I can write about here at the moment. Might be a book someday; praying that there's a happy ending. Anyway...drove 4+ hours back to Greensboro, N.C., past roadside attractions like Sparky's (if this collection of assorted shit were any bigger, he'd be buying it from my father) and thru towns like Ellerbe, N.C., where you can't believe you're still in America. Church, pawn shop, church, gas station, check cashing, church...I know I mentioned it last time, but it's worth mentioning again: HOW CAN PLACES LIKE THIS STILL EXIST IN AMERICA, 2007? How do so many get left so far behind, with so little hope of ever catching up? I don't believe in fairy tales and I don't believe it's all the fault of one political party or another. I don't believe any one candidate or party or platform can fix it; I just hope they-and by extension, the mainstream media, since that's the real driving force in this country-start paying attention to it. After the election, I mean. Not platitudes, and not government handouts. Just do something meaningful, figure out some way to educate their kids properly, break the cycle of abject poverty that has gripped generations in a vise of misery and provide them the tools necessary so that they have a fighting chance at a decent life.
Down off the soapbox for a minute...got to Greensboro around 5p, checked into another anonymous hotel room and just crashed, hard. Very little sleep during the weekend (too many beers, too much shitty food, too much unbelievably loud snoring and farting-hey, we're men after all), so took an immediate two-hour nap. Then just lounged, read my book and back issues of Rolling Stone (still catching up, and giving said back issues to my stepfather for his adopted soldier program so an added incentive to get thru them). On IM for quite a while late in the night, in a rather heavy conversation with someone quite close to me, who it turns out was a bit drunk and didn't remember most if it the next morning. It happens. After that, got a great night's sleep and checked out early. I was in Greensboro to visit my friend Jo. Another interesting character, very smart, very cool lady just back from Paris with her new boyfriend but that's her story to tell (and it's a doozy of a tale). Met Jo for breakfast at a French restaurant called Bistro 150, where a sign that reads "Bonjour Y'all" greets all who enter. Only in the South. Had a great day with Jo; visited a labyrinth (no, David Bowie wasn't there), an old-fashioned mill, a local winery and a few other key sites before dinner at Prissy Polly's bbq. Yes, French for breakfast and super-Southern for dinner. Not sure which was better, the galletes or the hush puppies, just never thought I'd have a day of cuisine like that...in North Carolina.
Stayed at Jo's last night, her house warm and charming and comfortable. After a week in various hotels, all of which looked more or less the same, it felt great to sleep in a real bed in a real house. Woke up this morning to the smell of homemade pecan pancakes frying on the griddle. Awesome. Pancakes, strong coffee, a quick shower (and unfortunately, the ultimate houseguest faux pas, a clogged toilet..."hey, um, do you have a plunger?" Ugh.) and on the road again. Drove up to Charlottesville, Va. Beautiful drive, once you cross into VA. The "rolling hills" really are....it's just gorgeous here, and Charlotteville is a real hip little city, a quintessential college town. At the moment, I'm at my friend Nick's house, working out of his bedroom office while he works records to stations that increasingly just play follow the leader instead of taking a chance and breaking some good music. More hospitality, more family vibrancy as Nick's wife and 3 young sons play downstairs, a smattering of French here and there (it's a bilingual family, as Dominique is French). Going to visit another friend tonight, Andrew Silver, younger brother of the aforementioned Adam. Andy is a chef, owns a restaurant here called Zocalo. Really looking forward to finally dining there. This is the last stop of the tour, at least for now. In the morning, I'm driving straight back to The Woo. The mission is largely accomplished, time to get back to real life and resolving the future.
Adieu, Y'all!
Myrtle Beach was a blast. It's all a hazy blur, a swirl of laughter and beers and old friends and an off-season beach resort that in 20 years will be honky-tonk Miami Beach. The beach itself is beautiful, most of its long stretch built up with hotels and condos, and it's very cheap to stay there. We had a penthouse condo, 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms that is clearly worse for the wear after our stay...
The details of the bachelor party, the dirty little secrets (such as they are; nothing untoward or outrageous occurred aside from massive alcohol abuse) will remain in our collective memories. What I will share is the fondness I have for all these guys; most of them are guys I grew up with. The two Adams I've known since preschool, Dave and Yosef since junior high. Yosef's cousin Stephen, who's a few years older than we are but a guy I've known for 20 years and always enjoy hanging with. Steve's a raconteur of the first order, a huge and hugely entertaining character who may not be everybody's cup of T&T because of his rather colorful vocabulary but as big-hearted a guy as you'll meet. Stefan and Alex are somewhat more recent acquaintances, but good dudes both. I'm just very proud and very humbled to have friends like these...seeing the guys I've grown up with, from kickball in the schoolyard to junior-high mischief, high school keg parties at each other's houses and various wooded areas, the years at UMass and then jobs, weddings, moves to various parts of the country and kids, and now another wedding on the horizon...to be a part of that story is really something. Jobs will come and go, careers and the day-to-day minutiae that consumes our lives, but our friends and family are what matter, what make us the people that we are. Being in Myrtle Beach and sinking back into familiar roles, albeit slightly more mellowed than years ago...Dave George still stirring the pot, throwing out outrageous opinions just to see where the conversation will go. Yosef noticing every little slip, maintaining a running commentary on the proceedings whilst quietly driving them. Adam Silver relaxed as always, going with the flow and enjoying it all. Adam Sachs his usual all-out self, whether it be golf or tequila shots or Golden Tee. Me, far more comfortable in my own skin now than I ever was as a teenager or in my 20's but still the sarcastic smartass...I think what I'll remember most from that portion of the trip is laughter. Laughter over dinner, over drinks, during marathon Golden Tee sessions (as with most video games, which I play very infrequently, I suck at this one, which is why I play video games very infrequently), laughing in the morning during shared-hangover time and on the balcony just bullshitting with each other. These guys will always be my friends, my family, regardless of how often or not we see each other. So god bless you all, and thanks for a great time. We'll pick it up at the wedding next month.
Heading out of Myrtle on Sunday was a chore. So hungover and tired and feeling sick. A situation at home just constantly on my mind, but nothing I can write about here at the moment. Might be a book someday; praying that there's a happy ending. Anyway...drove 4+ hours back to Greensboro, N.C., past roadside attractions like Sparky's (if this collection of assorted shit were any bigger, he'd be buying it from my father) and thru towns like Ellerbe, N.C., where you can't believe you're still in America. Church, pawn shop, church, gas station, check cashing, church...I know I mentioned it last time, but it's worth mentioning again: HOW CAN PLACES LIKE THIS STILL EXIST IN AMERICA, 2007? How do so many get left so far behind, with so little hope of ever catching up? I don't believe in fairy tales and I don't believe it's all the fault of one political party or another. I don't believe any one candidate or party or platform can fix it; I just hope they-and by extension, the mainstream media, since that's the real driving force in this country-start paying attention to it. After the election, I mean. Not platitudes, and not government handouts. Just do something meaningful, figure out some way to educate their kids properly, break the cycle of abject poverty that has gripped generations in a vise of misery and provide them the tools necessary so that they have a fighting chance at a decent life.
Down off the soapbox for a minute...got to Greensboro around 5p, checked into another anonymous hotel room and just crashed, hard. Very little sleep during the weekend (too many beers, too much shitty food, too much unbelievably loud snoring and farting-hey, we're men after all), so took an immediate two-hour nap. Then just lounged, read my book and back issues of Rolling Stone (still catching up, and giving said back issues to my stepfather for his adopted soldier program so an added incentive to get thru them). On IM for quite a while late in the night, in a rather heavy conversation with someone quite close to me, who it turns out was a bit drunk and didn't remember most if it the next morning. It happens. After that, got a great night's sleep and checked out early. I was in Greensboro to visit my friend Jo. Another interesting character, very smart, very cool lady just back from Paris with her new boyfriend but that's her story to tell (and it's a doozy of a tale). Met Jo for breakfast at a French restaurant called Bistro 150, where a sign that reads "Bonjour Y'all" greets all who enter. Only in the South. Had a great day with Jo; visited a labyrinth (no, David Bowie wasn't there), an old-fashioned mill, a local winery and a few other key sites before dinner at Prissy Polly's bbq. Yes, French for breakfast and super-Southern for dinner. Not sure which was better, the galletes or the hush puppies, just never thought I'd have a day of cuisine like that...in North Carolina.
Stayed at Jo's last night, her house warm and charming and comfortable. After a week in various hotels, all of which looked more or less the same, it felt great to sleep in a real bed in a real house. Woke up this morning to the smell of homemade pecan pancakes frying on the griddle. Awesome. Pancakes, strong coffee, a quick shower (and unfortunately, the ultimate houseguest faux pas, a clogged toilet..."hey, um, do you have a plunger?" Ugh.) and on the road again. Drove up to Charlottesville, Va. Beautiful drive, once you cross into VA. The "rolling hills" really are....it's just gorgeous here, and Charlotteville is a real hip little city, a quintessential college town. At the moment, I'm at my friend Nick's house, working out of his bedroom office while he works records to stations that increasingly just play follow the leader instead of taking a chance and breaking some good music. More hospitality, more family vibrancy as Nick's wife and 3 young sons play downstairs, a smattering of French here and there (it's a bilingual family, as Dominique is French). Going to visit another friend tonight, Andrew Silver, younger brother of the aforementioned Adam. Andy is a chef, owns a restaurant here called Zocalo. Really looking forward to finally dining there. This is the last stop of the tour, at least for now. In the morning, I'm driving straight back to The Woo. The mission is largely accomplished, time to get back to real life and resolving the future.
Adieu, Y'all!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Screw Waldo...where am I?
At the moment, I'm sitting in Cafe Rouge in Myrtle Beach, S.C., taking advantage of the free WiFi and a fantastic iced coffee...
The road is a blur. Has it only been 5 days since I left the Newark of New England? You realize quickly how homogeonized this country has become. Every place looks like everyplace else. Oh look, there's a Starbucks...another TGI Friday's, another Comfort Inn, another McDonalds and Gap and high-end mall with a Macy's anchor store. It's only the physical layout of the cities themselves, the historic aspects that provide any unique characteristics. Thank god I found this place, ironically enough by going into a Starbucks and asking if they had Wifi (they didn't, and the barista sent me here!).
There's a slide show (or Powerpoint, if you prefer) running thru my head...Lynn Goldsmith photos at the Rock Hall of Fame, the Bruce Nauman light exhibit at the Warhol museum (as well as a ton of Warhol art-go figure), lunch at the Gypsy Cafe in Pittsburgh (fantastic city, btw. Surprisingly beautiful architecture & bridges, very well laid out, and the Cuban sandwich was awesome), and then highways...cruising south through West Virginia, which is also beautiful, had to stop a few times and just take it all in from the side of the road. Highways slicing through the mountains, foliage not quite early-October Vermont, but still bright and vibrant, a great frame for the highway.
In total, drove 6+ hours from Pitt to Winston-Salem N.C., which is about 60% of the way here. Seemed like a good place to stop. Also paid the most EVER for gas, $3.29 a gallon. Thanks, W. Just one more cause-and-effect related clusterfuck you'll take no responsibility for.
Left NC this morning, cold and blustery, drove straight here. Detoured thru some small, rural NC towns...it was a minor shock, a break from the homogonized everywhere else. Broken-down shacks, shuttered windows...just visible abject poverty. You wonder how places like that could still exist in America in 2007, or in 1987 for that matter. Like they were forgotten about, written off, left behind in the "it's all about me" America. It's their sons and daughters fighting our wars, getting limbs blown off or coming home in body bags to be buried in pauper's graves off the side of Route 220. The other dichotomy of it all, the sight of pawn shops and check-cashing stores interspersed with churches of various Baptist and Evangelical denominations littering the road sides. When you've got nothing else, very little hope of ever escaping that world, faith is the one sustaining element. The unshakable certainty that this is all part of a grander design, that the ultimate end will justify the meanness of the means. It also gives a man a renewed humility, a renewed awareness of just how fortunate he's been to be blessed with so much.
So I sit here and count my blessings. Health, family, great friends, and a future firmly in my control. The ability to take a trip like this, and to appreciate the kindness of strangers, like my new friend Ed here at Cafe Rouge and my old friends whom I'll soon join for Yosef's bachelor party tonight and thru this weekend. Please, take a moment for yourself and remember your own blessings.
Ok, no more preaching. I've got a bachelor party to get to...there's another gospel to abide by. :)
The road is a blur. Has it only been 5 days since I left the Newark of New England? You realize quickly how homogeonized this country has become. Every place looks like everyplace else. Oh look, there's a Starbucks...another TGI Friday's, another Comfort Inn, another McDonalds and Gap and high-end mall with a Macy's anchor store. It's only the physical layout of the cities themselves, the historic aspects that provide any unique characteristics. Thank god I found this place, ironically enough by going into a Starbucks and asking if they had Wifi (they didn't, and the barista sent me here!).
There's a slide show (or Powerpoint, if you prefer) running thru my head...Lynn Goldsmith photos at the Rock Hall of Fame, the Bruce Nauman light exhibit at the Warhol museum (as well as a ton of Warhol art-go figure), lunch at the Gypsy Cafe in Pittsburgh (fantastic city, btw. Surprisingly beautiful architecture & bridges, very well laid out, and the Cuban sandwich was awesome), and then highways...cruising south through West Virginia, which is also beautiful, had to stop a few times and just take it all in from the side of the road. Highways slicing through the mountains, foliage not quite early-October Vermont, but still bright and vibrant, a great frame for the highway.
In total, drove 6+ hours from Pitt to Winston-Salem N.C., which is about 60% of the way here. Seemed like a good place to stop. Also paid the most EVER for gas, $3.29 a gallon. Thanks, W. Just one more cause-and-effect related clusterfuck you'll take no responsibility for.
Left NC this morning, cold and blustery, drove straight here. Detoured thru some small, rural NC towns...it was a minor shock, a break from the homogonized everywhere else. Broken-down shacks, shuttered windows...just visible abject poverty. You wonder how places like that could still exist in America in 2007, or in 1987 for that matter. Like they were forgotten about, written off, left behind in the "it's all about me" America. It's their sons and daughters fighting our wars, getting limbs blown off or coming home in body bags to be buried in pauper's graves off the side of Route 220. The other dichotomy of it all, the sight of pawn shops and check-cashing stores interspersed with churches of various Baptist and Evangelical denominations littering the road sides. When you've got nothing else, very little hope of ever escaping that world, faith is the one sustaining element. The unshakable certainty that this is all part of a grander design, that the ultimate end will justify the meanness of the means. It also gives a man a renewed humility, a renewed awareness of just how fortunate he's been to be blessed with so much.
So I sit here and count my blessings. Health, family, great friends, and a future firmly in my control. The ability to take a trip like this, and to appreciate the kindness of strangers, like my new friend Ed here at Cafe Rouge and my old friends whom I'll soon join for Yosef's bachelor party tonight and thru this weekend. Please, take a moment for yourself and remember your own blessings.
Ok, no more preaching. I've got a bachelor party to get to...there's another gospel to abide by. :)
Monday, November 5, 2007
The Road Goes On Forever
I prefer the Joe Ely version.
9 hours, straight shot from Wormtown to Cleveland. Great drive. Straight across upstate NY, left at Buffalo and down along Lake Erie. Checked in, cleaned up, quick dinner & a couple drinks with Watson before strolling over to the Springsteen show.
Bruce was good. Not the best Bruce show I've ever seen; the tour opener in Hartford a month ago was better. Sound mix was a little muddy in the lower bowl of the "Your Name Here" arena. Having seen him many times over the years, it's a little disheartening to know that Bruce is essentially doing the same show every night, save for a few old songs rotated in & out nightly. But those nuggets are choice...last night included "Hard to be a Saint in the City" and "Kitty's Back." Bruce still has the passion, but watching the show you just want him to cut loose one more time, call an audible and play with the real fire that sustained him all those years and all those tours. Don't spit in the face of those badlands Bruce, just spit in the face of the iconography, spit in the face of encroaching complacency on stage.
Funny, midway thru the show I was thinking back to Van Halen at the Garden last week. Sure, VH is doing something very similar, playing nearly identical setlists each night, but it's expected with a band that hasn't played together in 22 years. That show was stunningly good; jaws were hanging open in the crowd. Dave is actually singing again. Some reviews have noted that Dave has a new, limited range...when wasn't his range limited? I've got bootlegs from 1976 and he could barely sing then. Eddie was once again demonstrating why he's one of the 5 best rock guitarists EVER, and finally looking healthy too. No sign of the formerly ever-present cigarette. Wolfgang erased any concerns over Michael Anthony not being there. I'm tellin' ya...I dug Van Halen much more than last night's Bruce show, and dammit, I love Bruce!
And yet more rock...just back from the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame here in Cleveland. It's the rock fans' equivalent of making hajj to Mecca. Walk in, go to coat-check, and then the first thing I see is a pair of display cases housing famous guitars. Saw 3 of Jerry's custom guitars and got a chill. Memories of Dead/Jerry Band shows past. Walking into the Ahmet Ertegun Main Exhibition Hall, past the photos of Ahmet with nearly the entire music world over his 60-years in the biz and stopping to examine the lineup of "Roots of Rock," focusing on the forebears, Hank Williams and Robert Johnson, Ma Rainey and Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly and Howlin' Wolf and knowing I was grinning like a kid skipping school and getting away with it. Beatles stuff, some amazing Stones stuff (Mick's stage costumes from over the decades...skinny fucker that one), Roy Orbison's 67 'Vette convertible and on & on. Upstairs to the real shit from Sun Studios, the piano Jerry Lee cut his first records on, the console that caught it all, the Gibson that Johnny cut his first records on. Tons of Elvis stuff. Exhibits on the rock history of various cities, from Memphis (where it all began) to Detroit to London & New York to Seattle. Ramones stage gear. Hendrix' clothes and rare guitars. The Doors exhibit...getting that creepy feeling that I'll be listening to The Doors for a week or so, much like I do whenever the movie's on TV before getting bored with them all over again...
I couldn't help but wonder though, looking up at the cars used on U2's Zooropa tour, about the current state of the music industry. Record labels and radio. Major labels and radio played a major part in the majority of these artists' success, and many others. Why? They were allowed to DEVELOP. It wasn't one record, one single, and if it isn't a hit you're done. U2 took 3 albums and countless touring before they became U2. Springsteen too, and many more. There was a commitment from the record companies, a long view of these artists' having careers, not being disposable products. Radio played them. Hell, radio broke most of them. FM radio was the hippest, coolest, biggest tastemaker of all, starting in the early 70's. Radio was vital. Now? Most rock radio formats are afraid to play new music. "Research" shows the audience doesn't want new music, they want HITS. They want the familiar. How the fuck do you think these artists BECAME familiar? Airplay. Now it's up to the internet, and touring, and strategic placement, for a song and artist to break through. And really, does anyone expect to hear another hit from Plain White T's in 3 years? Ya think friggin' Fall Out Boy will ever be enshrined in the Hall? Please. There is a musical movement happening, and it's happening right under the noses of the people still clinging desperately to power on both sides. Word of mouth, social networking, any channel outside of the established channels are the future. I do hope radio figures out how to reinvent itself. I do still love radio as a medium, and I hope it finds its way. Until then, I just hope I find my way to Pittsburgh tomorrow.
9 hours, straight shot from Wormtown to Cleveland. Great drive. Straight across upstate NY, left at Buffalo and down along Lake Erie. Checked in, cleaned up, quick dinner & a couple drinks with Watson before strolling over to the Springsteen show.
Bruce was good. Not the best Bruce show I've ever seen; the tour opener in Hartford a month ago was better. Sound mix was a little muddy in the lower bowl of the "Your Name Here" arena. Having seen him many times over the years, it's a little disheartening to know that Bruce is essentially doing the same show every night, save for a few old songs rotated in & out nightly. But those nuggets are choice...last night included "Hard to be a Saint in the City" and "Kitty's Back." Bruce still has the passion, but watching the show you just want him to cut loose one more time, call an audible and play with the real fire that sustained him all those years and all those tours. Don't spit in the face of those badlands Bruce, just spit in the face of the iconography, spit in the face of encroaching complacency on stage.
Funny, midway thru the show I was thinking back to Van Halen at the Garden last week. Sure, VH is doing something very similar, playing nearly identical setlists each night, but it's expected with a band that hasn't played together in 22 years. That show was stunningly good; jaws were hanging open in the crowd. Dave is actually singing again. Some reviews have noted that Dave has a new, limited range...when wasn't his range limited? I've got bootlegs from 1976 and he could barely sing then. Eddie was once again demonstrating why he's one of the 5 best rock guitarists EVER, and finally looking healthy too. No sign of the formerly ever-present cigarette. Wolfgang erased any concerns over Michael Anthony not being there. I'm tellin' ya...I dug Van Halen much more than last night's Bruce show, and dammit, I love Bruce!
And yet more rock...just back from the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame here in Cleveland. It's the rock fans' equivalent of making hajj to Mecca. Walk in, go to coat-check, and then the first thing I see is a pair of display cases housing famous guitars. Saw 3 of Jerry's custom guitars and got a chill. Memories of Dead/Jerry Band shows past. Walking into the Ahmet Ertegun Main Exhibition Hall, past the photos of Ahmet with nearly the entire music world over his 60-years in the biz and stopping to examine the lineup of "Roots of Rock," focusing on the forebears, Hank Williams and Robert Johnson, Ma Rainey and Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly and Howlin' Wolf and knowing I was grinning like a kid skipping school and getting away with it. Beatles stuff, some amazing Stones stuff (Mick's stage costumes from over the decades...skinny fucker that one), Roy Orbison's 67 'Vette convertible and on & on. Upstairs to the real shit from Sun Studios, the piano Jerry Lee cut his first records on, the console that caught it all, the Gibson that Johnny cut his first records on. Tons of Elvis stuff. Exhibits on the rock history of various cities, from Memphis (where it all began) to Detroit to London & New York to Seattle. Ramones stage gear. Hendrix' clothes and rare guitars. The Doors exhibit...getting that creepy feeling that I'll be listening to The Doors for a week or so, much like I do whenever the movie's on TV before getting bored with them all over again...
I couldn't help but wonder though, looking up at the cars used on U2's Zooropa tour, about the current state of the music industry. Record labels and radio. Major labels and radio played a major part in the majority of these artists' success, and many others. Why? They were allowed to DEVELOP. It wasn't one record, one single, and if it isn't a hit you're done. U2 took 3 albums and countless touring before they became U2. Springsteen too, and many more. There was a commitment from the record companies, a long view of these artists' having careers, not being disposable products. Radio played them. Hell, radio broke most of them. FM radio was the hippest, coolest, biggest tastemaker of all, starting in the early 70's. Radio was vital. Now? Most rock radio formats are afraid to play new music. "Research" shows the audience doesn't want new music, they want HITS. They want the familiar. How the fuck do you think these artists BECAME familiar? Airplay. Now it's up to the internet, and touring, and strategic placement, for a song and artist to break through. And really, does anyone expect to hear another hit from Plain White T's in 3 years? Ya think friggin' Fall Out Boy will ever be enshrined in the Hall? Please. There is a musical movement happening, and it's happening right under the noses of the people still clinging desperately to power on both sides. Word of mouth, social networking, any channel outside of the established channels are the future. I do hope radio figures out how to reinvent itself. I do still love radio as a medium, and I hope it finds its way. Until then, I just hope I find my way to Pittsburgh tomorrow.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
On The Road...sorry Jack, I had no choice...
Leaving tomorrow (11/4/07) for a 12-day road trip. It's been two weeks since my resignation from WBOS. A productive two weeks, no question, but a change of scenery and a major clearing of the dome is in order. A change of perspective, a chance to listen to a ton of music, listen to the silence in between, see a lot of interesting shit and catch up with old friends along the way. Oh, and figure out what's next for me professionally...while I've had the chance to meet with several people regarding potential opportunities-some of them quite tempting and could in fact be the next step-I just can't make a decision without first putting some space between myself and all of this. Still too much emotion, too many feelings that would be too easy to let fester and harden into bitterness or regret. I left a difficult situation and want to keep the great experiences, the great moments and memories, the incredible opportunities to be thisclose to so much music and the people making it...the mentors and friends and all the internal growth at the forefront lest I turn into yet another bitter ex-radio guy. But I digress...
So in the morning (damn, the strains of Bruce's "Independence Day" are just on a continuous loop in my head right now), I load up the car and make the brief 9-hour jaunt to Cleveland. What better way for a music junkie to start than by visiting the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame? Get my head right with the rock again...hard as they tried, they never were able to kill my passion for the music. All this music was what kept me going thru all the turmoil from the time I was 8 years old and got my first Beatles "Best Of" collection. All this music is what kept me together as a teenager and into my 20's, made me feel a little bit less alone and realizing that I'm not the only one searching, looking for answers or at least meaning, an insecure kid with "Born to Run" playing constantly in the background, wanting a big American muscle car and a Jersey girl to head off past the factories with, to get to that something better than this...fuck, now I'm sounding like a character in one of those Bruce songs...
Anyway, Cleveland tomorrow. Hotel booked thru Priceline. Bless their half-priced hearts, it does work. Ironically, I am going to see Springsteen tomorrow night. Maybe that's why those songs are running thru my head right now (or maybe it's the all-Bruce channel on Sirius I've been listening to so frequently lately). RRHOF all day Monday. Tuesday morning, off to Pittsburgh, lunch with my old friend (and former intern!) Cindy Howes, who moved there a few months ago to host mornings on WYEP. Maybe an afternoon at the Warhol museum, and then ? Stay in Steeltown? Head out early evening, drive a few hours down into the Smoky Mountains? Possible. I'm taking the off-the-beaten path route from there to Myrtle Beach. Yosef's bachelor party in Myrtle Beach, a long weekend with my oldest friends and another chance to reconnect with a part of my life that was largely neglected for several years while I worked my ass off. After that, stops in N.C., Virginia, maybe Jersey and then back here, back to this reality. It's not all bad; my family is here, most of my friends, most likely my next paycheck, and most of all my love is here. After all, no matter how hard you try, you just can't outrun what's in your head.
Next post will be from the road...god bless and be well.
So in the morning (damn, the strains of Bruce's "Independence Day" are just on a continuous loop in my head right now), I load up the car and make the brief 9-hour jaunt to Cleveland. What better way for a music junkie to start than by visiting the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame? Get my head right with the rock again...hard as they tried, they never were able to kill my passion for the music. All this music was what kept me going thru all the turmoil from the time I was 8 years old and got my first Beatles "Best Of" collection. All this music is what kept me together as a teenager and into my 20's, made me feel a little bit less alone and realizing that I'm not the only one searching, looking for answers or at least meaning, an insecure kid with "Born to Run" playing constantly in the background, wanting a big American muscle car and a Jersey girl to head off past the factories with, to get to that something better than this...fuck, now I'm sounding like a character in one of those Bruce songs...
Anyway, Cleveland tomorrow. Hotel booked thru Priceline. Bless their half-priced hearts, it does work. Ironically, I am going to see Springsteen tomorrow night. Maybe that's why those songs are running thru my head right now (or maybe it's the all-Bruce channel on Sirius I've been listening to so frequently lately). RRHOF all day Monday. Tuesday morning, off to Pittsburgh, lunch with my old friend (and former intern!) Cindy Howes, who moved there a few months ago to host mornings on WYEP. Maybe an afternoon at the Warhol museum, and then ? Stay in Steeltown? Head out early evening, drive a few hours down into the Smoky Mountains? Possible. I'm taking the off-the-beaten path route from there to Myrtle Beach. Yosef's bachelor party in Myrtle Beach, a long weekend with my oldest friends and another chance to reconnect with a part of my life that was largely neglected for several years while I worked my ass off. After that, stops in N.C., Virginia, maybe Jersey and then back here, back to this reality. It's not all bad; my family is here, most of my friends, most likely my next paycheck, and most of all my love is here. After all, no matter how hard you try, you just can't outrun what's in your head.
Next post will be from the road...god bless and be well.
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