Hey Ringo!!!!!!!!!!

Peace and Love, baby.

Every year on his birthday, Ringo celebrates at a very public location. This year it was in front of  the Capitol Records Tower in Hollywood, where a large crowd sang "Happy Birthday" and Ringo cut the cake.

The real focus is that he has made his birthday into a celebration of Peace And Love. The drill is that at high noon, wherever you are at on his birthday - July 7 - stop what you are doing and say the words Peace and Love. His theory is that for those few seconds your mind is focused on peace and love and nothing else.

This cannot be a bad thing.

Wherever he is, they do a countdown to noon and then Ringo and the crowd say Peace and Love and flash the peace sign. That is damn good karma.

Of course you think the ritual is silly, but Ringo has been all about peace and love for his whole life. Comb through as many pictures as you can and you will be impressed to see in how many he is flashing the peace sign. I don't care how far back you go.

He took the message of the sixties and made it a big part of who he is.

I researched all this earlier this summer, checked out all the places around the world he has been to do this, all the charities he raises money for by doing this, all the fans he has rewarded - they win tickets to the event. I decided this year on July 7 I am going to say Peace and Love at noon.

Then I completely forgot about it. Fucking forgot. Because I am so fucking busy working 2 or 3 days a week. How does this happen? How is it that you get all the time in the world and it still isn't enough?

About a year ago I was talking to my friend Gary Handley. Told him about my semi-retirement. And he asked: "So what do you do?"

Fucking floored me. I did not have an answer. I believe I use my time wisely, trying to write, now desperately looking for a second part time job - but what do I really do? Feels pretty empty when I'm forced to think about it.

Anyway, Happy Birthday, Ringo. 79. Insane. Peace&Love. I love you, man. Keep on rockin', baby.

Also I don't think I wished Paul a happy birthday on June 18. He turned 77. You know I have mixed feelings about Paul. I think he is kind of cold. In fact I just finished a David Bowie oral biography. 99% of the comments were reverential and loving. Paul only had a few comments in the book and they were predictably thin.

Then again, I saw him recently in a 60 Minutes interview and he was quite human. And that carpool karaoke with James Corden is spectacular. So you never really know.

Bottom line - he is Paul McCartney. So Happy Birthday, man. Keep on rockin'.

I Had No Choice

I had to recreate the scene where Billy Mack shows up at his chubby manager's house. The dialogue is so damn funny. So you know, Billy Mack is an aging rock star, and Joe is his lifelong manager.

Joe: What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at Elton John's.

Billy Mack: I was there for a minute, then I had an epiphany.

Joe: So what was this epiphany?

Billy Mack: It was about Christmas. I realized that Christmas is the time to be with the people you love.

Joe: Right

Billy Mack: And, I realized that as dire chance and fateful cockup would have it, here I am, mid fifties, and without knowing it I've gone and spent most of my adult life with a chubby employee. And much as it grieves me to say it, it might be that the people I love is in fact............you.

Joe: Well this is a surprise. Ten minutes at Elton John's you're as gay as a meatball.

Billy Mack: No look, I'm serious here, I just left Elton's where there were a hefty number of half naked chicks with their mouths open, in order to hang out with you. At Christmas.

Joe: Well, Bill...........(uncomfortably)

Billy Mack: It's a terrible, terrible mistake, Chubbs, but you turn out to be the fucking love of my life. And to be honest, despite all my complaining, we have had a wonderful run.

Joe: Well, thank you (self consciously). I mean, it's been an honor. I feel very proud. (Reaches out to shake Billy's hand).

Billy Mack: Not that, you moron. (Leans in and they hug each other awkwardly - afterwards Joe has tears in his eyes).

Billy Mack: Come on, let's get pissed and watch porn.


Read this with British accents in your head and it's funnier. Better still - find the clip on youtube. The facial expressions and body movements (especially Billy Mack's) make the scene hilarious.

My favorite movie scenes are small scenes with intense emotion. What does this say about me?

Holy shit - I think I just realized that I am a human being.

Quotable Quotes

I am reading a David Bowie biography. What a man, and by that I don't just mean what a performer, I mean what a man. I of course will go on at length about the book in the near future.

But for now, here are a couple of Bowie quotes. The first one sums up for me exactly who Bowie was, lays out precisely what drove him in everything he did.

"The thing is, I always wore clothes for a reason, not to be fashionable. I've never seen the point of being fashionable, as then you obviously look just like everyone else. Which is the one thing I have never, ever wanted to be. It doesn't matter in what context you're talking about, I never ever wanted to be, or look remotely like, anyone else."



The second quote is from later in his life and is just super cool.

"I don't look too bad, and I don't feel too bad, if I'm honest. It's a genetic thing, a flesh-and-blood thing. My father's to blame. Considering what I've been through, I'm a lucky so-and-so. It's nauseating, I know, but I'm in love with my wife. I've still got my health and I love my job. So shoot me."

It Really Is The Little Things (And will I ever learn?)

I worked a split shift last Saturday.

12 to 3. 5 to 8.

Split shifts suck. Everybody hates them.

Finished out the second half of the day and got home by 8:30. Of course when you get home late like that it throws you into a different rhythm. Carol eventually went to bed, I watched an episode of "Bad Blood" late, but I wasn't done. Tooled around the guide and came across "Love, Actually".

Hang in there. There is a point to this. It triggered a bunch of references in my diseased mind.

So I dialed it up and caught my favorite scene. Billy Mack has left a party at Elton John's to go to his chubby manager's apartment. His manager is surprised; Billy Mack tells him he had an epiphany about Christmas. He realized that Christmas is a time to be with the people you love, and it turns out his manager is "the people you love".  He says "It's a terrible, terrible mistakes, chubbs, but you turn out to be the fucking love of my life." His manager gets tears in his eyes.

That is life on a small scale. Real life. Things that really matter.

Got me thinking about the movie "Beautiful Girls." The scene where Tommy "Birdman" Rowland is in the hospital after getting the shit kicked out of him outside a bar. His on again off again girlfriend is visiting him, and he is realizing that his life has gotten strange. And the killer line is when he says "I mean, I am not even close to being the guy I thought I would be." Killer. Absolutely killer.

That is life on a small scale. Real life. Things that really matter.

Got me thinking about the movie "Nobody's Fool". Rub Squeers works for Sully. Rub is a simple man. Uneducated, slow witted, and fiercely loyal to Sully. Sully's son Peter has begun to work with them and Rub is jealous because he feels that Peter is getting all of Sully's attention. Sully visits Rub; they are sitting on concrete steps on a cold, snowy day. Rub explains how he feels. Sully says: "Peter is my son. You are my best friend." Tears flow from Rub's eyes.

Life on a small scale. Real life. Things that matter.

Here's the tie in. I see Carol so differently since she has gone through hell and come out the other side.

One of the amazing things about her is that she gets genuine happiness from the smallest things.

I always cook enough so we have leftovers. About certain meals she will say "That will make an awesome lunch tomorrow." She says it with genuine enthusiasm. She'll come home the next night and tell me how awesome her lunch was. And she means it.

I hate taking my lunch to work. I feel like a little boy. I feel I should be able to afford to buy lunch every day.

She clips coupons. For lots of stuff. And she takes genuine pleasure in telling me we can save $1 on this, $1.50 on that. Seriously happy about it.

I hate coupons. I feel I should be able to afford anything without worrying about saving $1.

I could give you a hundred examples. I believe this is one of the things that keeps her going. That makes her so cool. Her ability to get genuine pleasure out of little things.

Life on a small scale. Real life. Things that really matter.

I have been tuned into this for almost two years now and she blows my mind. Makes me smile. She goes about the business of being happy, I go about the business of being unhappy.

I can learn a lot from Carol. Changes I could make that will make me happier. Little things.

It's like turning around a cruise ship, but I gotta try.

Right?

Why I Fucking Love Sports

You got your highs, you got your lows.

This time of year you are snoozing your way through the baseball season. You just agonized over the Bruins Game 7 loss in the Stanley Cup finals, which was crushingly painful but the hockey was fucking amazing. Before that you exulted in ANOTHER Super Bowl win by THE PATS.

All exciting stuff.

Then you settle into baseball, napping and drooling your way through games.

Suddenly, Wimbledon is upon you. Did you see the mens' final? No? Why the fuck not? Were you polishing your nails? Cleaning out your fucking gutters?

If you don't think tennis is exciting you are scum. A real worthless human being.

Djokovic and Federer played 25 games. IN THE LAST SET. Do you fucking get that? First time ever. You settle in to watch some tennis, mano e mano, and you get an epic match that had to be decided by a tie breaker in the fifth set. First time ever.

I think they played a total of 67 games over the entire match. Fucking mind blowing.

This is why sports rock. You never know when your mind will be blown. (Even in baseball, I hate to admit).

Before that, the American women's soccer team kicked ass and won the World's Cup. How very fucking cool.

I did not watch one minute of that competition and am a lesser man for it. I did not consciously avoid it, I just didn't make the effort.

I should have. It was great stuff. It is great stuff.

Maybe Tiger will win The Open this weekend. Wouldn't that be cool? He won The Masters and that was positively mind blowing. Fucking amazing.

Sports, man. Just when you get lulled to sleep during a 162 game schedule, or an 82 game schedule, someone or somebodies come along and make you say "Holy shit, human beings can do that? They can perform at that level and make my life better?"

Live for that, baby. You ain't got much else.

The Ultimate Fucking Bottom Line

I immersed myself in "The Wire" and dug the shit out of it.

When I wrapped it up I experienced "end of binge watching" disease. Complete sense of loss.

My first experience with that was with Ray Donovan. I jumped into that SEVEN seasons behind. But I fucking loved it. I watched it maniacally, neglecting to eat, neglecting to wipe my ass when I took a shit. But it was worth it.

Next up was "Game of Thrones". I was on a deadline with that because the goal was to watch the final episode with Craig and Amanda. Again, I jumped into that SEVEN seasons behind. I got it done and it was worth it.

Next up was "The Wire". I watched that at a more casual pace because no deadline was looming. However, when you get into these things you do not want one day to go by without viewing at least one episode. So it becomes a benign obsession. I got it done and fucking loved it.

I recently discovered a show on Netflix called "Bad Blood". It is about organized crime in Canada. I know. You're like, what? Canada is cool. Ain't no crime up there.

Wrong. Anywhere human beings exist there is crime. Because everybody craves shitloads of money and nobody wants to work 9 to 5.

Show is fucking great. Ripped through the first season, just started the second. Very heavy, very violent, but there are many sensitive, introspective scenes.

What can I say? I am drawn to violence, I am drawn to criminality. Because I crave shitloads of money and I don't want to work 9 to 5.

Here's my point.

Just watched an episode where the #1 drug guy in Canada flies down to Mexico to meet with the #1 drug guy in Mexico.

They negotiate a deal. The Mexican dude asks "Why are you looking to expand? You already command a major operation in Canada that makes you very wealthy. What are you looking for? More money?"

The Canadian dude asks "Do you answer to anybody?" The Mexican answers "No". The Canadian says "THAT is what I am looking for."

BOOM.

Of all the things I hate about my life, numero uno is the fact that I have to answer to somebody. I despise the fact that somebody gets to tell me where to be and at what time and how long I have to stay there.

I despise the fact that a scumbag financial institution holds my mortgage and demands that I pay it on this day every month or they will destroy me.

These things make me small.

And I fucking hate them.

This is why I love crime shows and crime movies. I love the idea that you make arrangements and if somebody breaks that arrangement they get killed or you get killed.

May seem harsh but it is a lot better than the slow, tortuous death we all live.

I don't want to answer to any other human being. Ever. It is still my goal.

Could be too late.

Or not.

Drinking Quotes (Memorize them, unless you're already drunk)

I always come back to this quote on July 4th: "Remember, if you drink a fifth on the fourth you might not come forth on the fifth." It amuses me to think that there are millions of people who don't even know what a fifth is.

"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut."
     Ernest Hemingway

"I cook with wine. Sometimes I even add it to the food."
      W.C. Fields

The Happiest Man On Planet Earth

I walked down the driveway on the morning of July 4th to grab Carol's paper.

As I crossed the street I heard John Denver singing "Rocky Mountain High." Looking to my right I saw a guy riding a bike up the road. I grabbed Carol's paper and as I turned around the guy was right up on me. "What a beautiful day" he said with exuberance. I said "Enjoy your day" with equal exuberance, and he and John Denver faded away down the road.

What a great way to begin a long holiday weekend. The guy made me feel good.

I enjoy these holiday weekends because I am empathetic. Severely empathetic.

Carol and I don't do much anymore. Pretty much hang around and ask "Whaddya wanna do?" "I dunno, whaddya you wanna do?" Then we smoke opium and watch a Law & Order marathon.

But I enjoy imagining other peoples' happiness. I was driving to work on July 3rd and got behind a pickup that was towing a camper, which was behind a pickup towing a camper. My first reaction was "Fuck, now I'll be travelling 45 mph." But I am maturing at a rapid rate, so my immediate afterthought was "What the fuck do I care? I'm only going to work. If I'm late I'm late."

This resulted in immediate relaxation.

I imagined these people setting up in a pristine campground and chilling for four fucking days. FOUR days. For most working people that is a 2 week vacation.

So cool when a holiday falls like that. A lot of people get to escape their harsh reality for what feels like a lifetime. And everybody deserves that kind of break.

But you know my position - our society today is an inoperable cancerous tumor. I believe the majority of working people do not get four days. I would love to see some stats. How many people actually get to enjoy a loooooooooong holiday weekend? I know a number of people who worked on July 4th.

Anyway I am happy for the people who do get time off.

As I always say, you can feel a long weekend. It's in the air, it's in peoples' attitudes. Everybody walking around relaxed, shorts and a t-shirt, strolling out of Dunkin Donuts with no stress on their faces. No fucking stress. People eating outside at restaurants, people barbecuing, hiking, biking, boating. People smiling and laughing. With friends. With family.

I love it. I am happy for everbody's sweet release.

And just so you know, just so you don't think I'm feeling sorry for my self, on Saturday of the holiday weekend Carol and I went to a great party/cookout/fireworks display. Put on annually by our friends Jason and Karen.

Jason is gay and Karen is a transsexual. I don't know how their relationship works but it does. And we are proud to call them friends.

Small crowd because people got spooked by all the rain. Small crowds are better; you don't feel pressured to mix and mingle and engage in mindless conversation. We hung around with my brother and his wife and a few other people and chilled and talked and ate and drank. It was quite pleasant.

Then we wandered down to the lake and enjoyed Jason's fireworks display. It is professional grade. And riveting because Jason prefers rainbow colors.

So that's it. I'm running out of gas. Nothing else to say.

Except to tell you to find ways to enjoy your life. Even in small chunks; measured doses.

Grab yourself a holiday weekend or a bottle of good wine. Whatever works.

And remember to savor the flavor.