Stepping on the Lines

There are some days when a sidewalk is just an elongated slab of concrete where it’s only purpose is to be walked upon. But then there are days or perhaps even a sequence of days where the lines which divide the sidewalk into squares are my enemy. These days of today are abound with panic glory.

Silly, so silly. I know these are truths. A line in concrete is just a line. But why do they have to be there? They are just in my way. If I step on a line how much will that affect the rest of my day? I’m not a sicko. It’s just that sometimes stepping on the lines can be detrimental to a man’s psyche.

I think tomorrow will be different. Back to normal again. For now though, today on the way to the car you better watch out lines, because I’m not fucking around. I will choke you with my vengeance.

Later,
Dee

Creating a Community

You know folks the original idea behind this whole Blog thing was to get the dust out of my head. The dust that settles between memories. What happened though was something I had never envisioned or planned. I think I created sort of a weird community where all walks of life from my own life have gathered to offer comments to my brain-housecleaning. This has been wonderful for me. Comments were and are always welcome and encouraged.

By nature, I just really get off on conversation. If it has to happen in this medium; this internet medium than who cares? I’m glad you all have a voice and have some things to offer to the table. Special thanks to Brad for his long tangents. I think tangents are neat and groovy.

So this message here, that I am writing is just a thanks for all the comments. Thanks for all the conversations. Thanks for converging. And thanks for reading. I never thought it would amount to anything. I will do my best to continue with this. And please make as many comments as you’d like. They're free and you can be anonymous, if you want to be that guy.


Latronic,
Dee

Wow I Get It!

In 1966 The Beach Boys were one of the top bands in America. They had just released Pet Sounds which knocked critics and musicians on their respective asses. Who was responsible for all this hubbub? Non other than California resident genius Brian Wilson.

What Brian did in response to Pet Sounds has become one of the most exciting stories in American history. Yes, it’s that big of a deal. He went into the studio, which at this point was his laboratory, and made a song called Good Vibrations. We all know the tune, because it became a huge hit. He called it a Pocket Symphony. Good Vibrations thus became the catalyst for what we now know as SMiLE. The Story has been told thousands of time by thousands of people, most of whom are way more qualified than I am. What I would like to do though, is express how the music of SMiLE along with the wonderful story of its demise and rebirth are the reasons why music is the most important thing in my life.

Here’s the quick short verbatim story of SMiLE. It was supposed to be a message to God. This was going to be the most complex and interwoven story ever put on record. Take in mind that in 1966 music was still all about the single and finding a hit. Brian wasn’t interested in doing things that way anymore. He wanted to write an entire piece of music in the vein of his hero, George Gershwin. But make no mistake, this was still to be a Beach Boys record and would still contain elements of popular music. He found himself a lyricist named Van Dyke Parks so that he could concentrate on writing the music. The 2 men sat in the sandbox and wrote the bulk of what would become SMiLE.

Everything was going fine until the Beach Boys showed up from their world tour and heard the new material that Brian was recording. They hated it. Mike Love in particular complained that Brian was, “messing with the formula”. Mike was right, but on so many other levels was he wrong. Since this is the short version of the story I will skip right to the tragic side of the picture. Brian eventually shelved the SMiLE project. He went a little cuckoo in the 70’s and the Beach Boys, for better or worse continued working on the “formula” that had made them so successful in the early 60’s. Some of the songs from SMiLE found their way onto various Beach Boys LPs over the next few years. But they were out of context, re-recorded and were lacking the magic sparked between Van Dyke and Brian.

It was over by 1967. SMiLE destroyed Brian’s soul. He would go on for the next 30 or so years never mentioning SMiLE in interviews or playing the songs from the sessions. Fans of course knew of this great lost album and created the SMiLE mythology. I became aware of the songs by seeing some kind of documentary on PBS in the 90’s. They were talking to fellow musicians and whatnot. I only have recollection of Sean Lennon talking about how important these songs were and how sad it was that this album was never released. The general thinking amongst the SMiLE fans was that we would never hear it the way it was intended.

I was able to download a few tracks that I had read about on the internet including Our Prayer, Heroes and Villains and Fire. Just those 3 were enough fodder for my ears. But they were muddy recordings and I knew that they were out of context.

I am a big fan of concept albums. Call it my progressive rock background or what not. So I knew the only true way to hear Brian’s songs would be to hear them together as one piece of a whole work. I knew it would never happen.

But it did happen. In 2004 he released the sucker. I was blindsided. I heard about him playing SMiLE live in London but I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. So I forgot about it. And then I just broke down and looked into it and thus found the truth to be that not only was he playing it live on tour but he was releasing an album. He was actually going to go back to that dark place and finish the great masterpiece.

And to me that is what SMiLE is: a masterpiece of work. One of the best stories in rock and roll. And the music, well it speaks for itself. There are certain times in life where a person can truly connect with art and say to themselves, “Wow, I get it!”

Surf’s Up is absolutely beautiful and the center and heart of the album. Wind Chimes, Cabin Essence: brilliant. Heroes and Villains kicks Good Vibrations’ ass. Vega-tables, Wonderful, etc… Come on you’re killing me with this stuff. How can something be so good? It really is that good!

Brain and Van Dyke, thanks guys. I get it. And I love it. And it means a hell of a lot to me that you guys finished it and that it is so good.

Little Heart Attacks

Do you ever feel like you are having a little heart attack? I think I do every day. Is it possible to experience cosmic jolts to the ole’ red sucker every once in a while? I think so. I’m feelin’ it. I’m feelin’ it tough lately.

When I get older and further away from the days when it was easier to endure physical pain, I realize just how integral the heart really is to daily function. Because when that thing hurts, or pounds too hard, it’s a wake up call. I’m realizing that perhaps it isn’t the heart that is in control though--it’s the mind. The mind is talking to the heart because the mind knows the only way to wake up the dude inside the body is to give a jolt to the motor.

Isn’t that what the heart essentially is: a motor? It’s responsible for the flow of everything blood. I think my brain is giving me little heart attacks everyday. I think when the big one comes I will be ready.

I'm not 100% sure though. This could all just be un-real.

The Blurred Lines of Reality

Why is it that whenever I decide to read One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest I myself feel like a patient on a mental ward? What is it about this narrative piece of fiction that connects with my brain ever-so-closely?

I have no resemblance to any of the characters as a whole. But I, like many I’m sure, have inherited an ensemble of mental deficiencies that seem to creep up at certain times of the year. Though I must say they have to be inherent the whole year round.

I’m sorry for the crazy talk but I’m about to turn 30 years old and for whatever reason I’ve been searching for more meaning out of every aspect of my core life that it has been driving me nuts. Perhaps I subconsciously gravitated toward Cuckoo because of this. What I do know for sure at this point is that I need some Shock Therapy. Not in the literal sense But I need something to short out these circuits.

You see when you have OCD, or any kind of self-diagnosed obsession disorder you tend to go way overboard on just about every tangent of your life. Where John Johnson might just slag off a word that he heard before bed as nothing but what it is, a word; I may very well try to find the numerical meaning behind the amount of letters in that word. I may ponder the origin of that word. Upon pondering origins I may begin to think about Latin. What is Latin? Why is it everywhere on American Documents like money and such? This leads to another tangent and then another until I find myself back at the word in question.

And so what does all that have to do with turning 30? And will these paragraphs hold relevance 1 day after 30? I don’t know the answer to that. And that is the answer to all the questions: I just don’t have the capacity to know all the answers.

Within this quagmire a person can lose a sense of what is real and what is a non-real. This feels non-real to tell you the truth. Writing this, talking about this. I feel insane. I feel like I should be playing poker with Harding and Cheswick. But I will read it later and be ashamed. I know this. I know me. I don’t know the answers to the stupidest questions but I know me. I know my guilt. And yet because I am feeling in a non-real state I will continue to write in this fashion. I will post this.

What is it to turn 30? And why make such a big deal of these things? It’s just a day after all. It’s just like the day before it and the day after it. But my brain thinks otherwise. Yup, it wants to re-cap events that took place years and years ago. I don’t know why. But a lot of these events were bad. Some were good. And some were non-real. Maybe they were all non-real.

Maybe this right now is non-real.