Nothing Left

 I am 70 years old.

There is nothing left that I can do in innocence.

Strange feeling.

Here's to You

Whiskey for breakfast, lunch, and dinner yesterday.

Rough day.

Cent'Anni!

Hey - It's a Philosophy

 It's better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.

Springsteen Wisdom

Just ran out to Walgreens to pick up antibacterial ointment for the cut on my nose.

Carol wacked me with a broom again. And my sons wonder why I beat her.

Along the way I listened to Springsteen. Heard No Surrender, Jungleland, and Thunder Road. 

No Surrender: "Well, we made a promise we swore we'd always remember, no retreat, baby, no surrender."

Jungleland: "The Rangers had a homecoming in Harlem late last night, and the Magic Rat drove his sleek machine over the Jersey state line. Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge, drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain. The Rat pulls into town , rolls up his pants, together they take a stab at romance, and disappear down Flamingo Lane."

Thunder Road: "Don't turn me home again, I just can't face myself alone again.......................So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore, show a little faith there's magic in the night, you ain't a beauty, but hey, you're alright, oh, and that's alright with me."

The man is either painting pictures so vivid in your mind, or speaking truths so honest they sting, or projecting defiance to inspire. Beautiful stuff.

All of these stations dedicated to one artist have the fan thing where they come on and play their five favorite songs. They tell stories of what the songs mean and how they came to mean that. It is stunning proof of the magic of music.

The woman playing these songs this morning said, when introducing Jungleland - "This is my father's absolute favorite song." I loved it.

It is so cool when your kids know you in that way. When your relationship transcends the parent thing and crosses over to the human thing. I mean, if you are lucky, the human thing outlasts the parent thing by a long shot. If you are lucky, your kids know the human behind the parent - the vulnerable person who did the best they could to protect and love and - eventually - release the kid.

Music can be the magical bridge to get from here to there.

Fucking amazing.

You Alone

You get to a place in life where you have to make a choice: Either you say "Fuck it - I will be who I am no matter what." OR you say: "I will continue to the grave as the empty fraud that I am."

It's inevitable. If you spend your entire life playing a part, circumstances will eventually conspire to back you up against a wall to the point where your fucking head and heart explode OR your spine finally and fatefully dissolves.

Because life is relentless and cuts you no slack. 

For Your Consideration: Dissolving is death. Explosion is rebirth.

But, most likely, when you get to the moment when you have no choice but to explode, you are not ready for it. It makes you uncomfortable. You have put yourself in a situation where you have to speak out, to strike out, to raise your fist and your voice. As opposed to your typical reaction - smiling weakly, allowing others to place the boot to your neck.

You have made bad decisions. Or no decision. Over and over and over again. Until the morning you wake up to a bloodcurdling scream. Your own. At 3:00 am. Ragged, cutting through your throat like jagged glass. And you drool like a mad dog.

You know you have to do the right thing. You HAVE to do the right thing.

Or die.

This is gonna be really uncomfortable. People will be inconvenienced, and many will think less of you. But who the fuck are they to judge? Their lives are equally meaningless. Vapid and misplaced.

You alone hold the truth of who you are.

It is time to live up to that expectation.

You Are Not Blind

 "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

Creatives

Creative people are one degree removed from reality.

This is why they create. This is how they survive.

A creative person does not come up against a problem and think: "How can I fix this?" A creative person comes up against a problem and thinks: "How can I talk about this? How can I present this? How can I express or define this problem to others?"

The problem is not concrete. The expression of the problem is.

That's why it is so hard for them to negotiate life. They take life - which is a black and white and overwhelmingly boring concept - and try so hard to make it into art.

Sisyphus every time.

Creative people do not comprehend how to register a car. Or even why it is necessary. They don't get real estate taxes. They don't understand feigned politeness or conversations about the weather. They are not interested in anything that is defined by the word municipal.

They lament those who lie to themselves and others consistently as a means of merely survivng a life they should celebrate.

Creatives cannot deal with anything not connected with the truthful expression of emotion. Raw and honest.

I relate to creative people.