Saw this from about 3 years ago, thought it was interesting. Amazing how you see yourself change, yet never notice.
_______________________________________________
"I'm writing you on the train today
Speckled rain drops wipe the grime off the window
I draw the shades because the daylight does not feel so redeeming
I listen to songs that make my head swirl
And with chord progressions take me to the heights of human awareness
There is no set time for my return, as there usually is
I will have to brave most of the summer in South Brooklyn
I've never felt more 'in my body' than recently
I feel and cherish every hair, scab, iris
Your writing speaks to me, or through me
My mind need not filter it as I would normally do
You speak of the real me, my naivety and half-attempt at wisdom
I feel tormented by things bigger than me
I feel blessed at the same time, if that makes sense
And every new song that enters me today
Makes me want to show everyone so many things
I desire to be loved, I tell myself repeatedly
I want love in my life
I write words for what will be my opus
"Be content in who you are /
Be content that your might not necessarily go far /
But you'll try anyway"
Am I the only one who realizes what that means?
Everyone sleeps on the train.
We always sleep on the way home.
I want to write Freedom
To scream at the tops of the highest,
Most spectacular places
To proclaim it, and live it
Freedom in its purest form
In its truest form
I want to stand above everyone
Look down, see the Free
And love them.
"All the sights of Paris / Pale inside your iris"
Rufus Wainwright.
The head swirls again.
It has been so long since I have felt what true love is
I hear you speak of your worries of finding a man
And it seems unreasonably pessimistic
Because you are the Beacon
You give me hope
That there is another kind soul
Walking around the other side of the island
And when we cross paths
It is good. It is very good.
And I haven't needed to think very much past that level.
Please do not feel anxious anymore
You are worthy of everything you want
And I feel it being drawn to you.
This week, Easter
I had wished to be at a better place with God by now
Palm Sunday, the Passion read at Mass
The party favors we get to take home and hang up
Remind us we have a part in the nails and wood
I want to feel close to God again,
And I was just a short time ago.
I can be close to God
And I hope Easter can bring me into His favor
I would love to share Easter with you
Let me know if you are interested
I haven't been able to bare myself to anyone in so long
And it fucked me up at the time
But you are always so kind, so understanding
And you accept me unequivocally
I don't feel embarrassed to say
I am a Man of God
Or that I get scared of so much
It never shakes you from my corner
Thank you.
Sending thoughts somewhere south of Syracuse"
February 16, 2010
MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 2: "The Stone"
There is a cluster of songs on the record about the same person. "Ophelia" and "The Stone", along with "Two Souls Meet in the City" all speak about a particular relationship, and the various aspects of it, and its demise.
I believe as songwriters we are meant to amplify the truth, and make the highs higher, the lows lower, and turn up the intensity. To that end, I tried to take a very real, yet not intensely dramatic event from my life and try to make it more universal.
"The Stone" is based on a poem I scratched out while on a train to Providence, RI to play a show, called "June 1st."
For once
And just this once
I socked you between the eyes
You always could blow me back
But my Honesty
And my Heart,
in an attempt to set the record straight
And get back on its feet again,
Let you have it.
You've made me teased in love
I'm even wondering if you count on the list.
I hadn't heard from her in over a week, and decided enough was enough. So I scribbled out a decently long email to her, saying she could not treat me with such disregard, and how I would not stand for it. I acknowledged that I am a bit of a pushover, but that I could no longer be trampled on anymore. I was angry, and I've never really showed that to her before.
I thought about how I would act in relationships: I would be totally submissive and willing to put up with or deal with anything a woman throws at me. If she ignores me, I worry and am crippled with anxiety. I try to be as selfless as possible, and focus all my energy on catering (and sometimes pandering) to her every need. Ultimately, it's not fair, and an unhealthy dynamic starts to form. This is what happened here.
Her response was quite trite, but quite sorry. She did not really know what to say. But she knew she would most likely hear something from me about her not being in touch. She knew I wouldn't take much more. I had caught her off guard; socked her right between the eyes with my words. For once.
So I realize this is fairly uneventful story, but that's the reality through which "The Stone" came from. It's the idea of an intimidating, "tall" figure, who dominates a relationship by her intellect, beauty, and by the control she is given by the other person. And the "small" figure, who never knew he could stand up to her, throwing that million dollar shot. David and Goliath would be the perfect imagery for what I was getting at.
So a few of the points in the song worth mentioning:
"My Beautiful, beautiful Goliath" My only concern was that referring to someone as "my beautiful Goliath" would seem ridiculous, and take away from the intensity of the song. After asking around, people enjoyed that image, because it showed her might and her aesthetic beauty all at once, so I left it in.
"She said 'Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose' " While she never said this explicitly, I think it points to how those given power by another have the tendency to feel spoiled by it, the way a child who just became a king or queen might react to losing in a game.
"And you fall (and I fall apart watching you fall apart)" To write what I did, although it seems quite trivial in this posting, was torture for me. So it was like the destruction of two people at once. Mutually-assured destruction, for she and I.
Here's the lyrics to "The Stone:
[I am David
And I am practicing my sling
And you know this, you showed it...]
A similar scene is taking over me
When you step into the room, I bow down
You look around, you look around
And see everything you want is what you've found
And I am at a loss
'Cause I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, and you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, beautiful Goliath
She said "Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose"
"And with the way this is going, baby, why must you make me choose?"
In that space between fantasy and faith
I came back, and started making my way
To where I step into this battleground with you
I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, oh...
And my words hit you like a Stone
And my words hit you like a Stone
My words
Hit you
Like a stone
And you fall, you fall, you fall
Oh I
Did arrive
Ready to fight this time.
You fall (And I fall apart watching you fall apart)
The song is my "hardest" to date, and we're still working on how we should record it. The discussion is centered on how this song could live on an album with less aggressive songs. But I am positive it can, and think it tells an important story.
Thanks for reading, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute to making this record happen! Another preview tomorrow!!
John
I believe as songwriters we are meant to amplify the truth, and make the highs higher, the lows lower, and turn up the intensity. To that end, I tried to take a very real, yet not intensely dramatic event from my life and try to make it more universal.
"The Stone" is based on a poem I scratched out while on a train to Providence, RI to play a show, called "June 1st."
For once
And just this once
I socked you between the eyes
You always could blow me back
But my Honesty
And my Heart,
in an attempt to set the record straight
And get back on its feet again,
Let you have it.
You've made me teased in love
I'm even wondering if you count on the list.
I hadn't heard from her in over a week, and decided enough was enough. So I scribbled out a decently long email to her, saying she could not treat me with such disregard, and how I would not stand for it. I acknowledged that I am a bit of a pushover, but that I could no longer be trampled on anymore. I was angry, and I've never really showed that to her before.
I thought about how I would act in relationships: I would be totally submissive and willing to put up with or deal with anything a woman throws at me. If she ignores me, I worry and am crippled with anxiety. I try to be as selfless as possible, and focus all my energy on catering (and sometimes pandering) to her every need. Ultimately, it's not fair, and an unhealthy dynamic starts to form. This is what happened here.
Her response was quite trite, but quite sorry. She did not really know what to say. But she knew she would most likely hear something from me about her not being in touch. She knew I wouldn't take much more. I had caught her off guard; socked her right between the eyes with my words. For once.
So I realize this is fairly uneventful story, but that's the reality through which "The Stone" came from. It's the idea of an intimidating, "tall" figure, who dominates a relationship by her intellect, beauty, and by the control she is given by the other person. And the "small" figure, who never knew he could stand up to her, throwing that million dollar shot. David and Goliath would be the perfect imagery for what I was getting at.
So a few of the points in the song worth mentioning:
"My Beautiful, beautiful Goliath" My only concern was that referring to someone as "my beautiful Goliath" would seem ridiculous, and take away from the intensity of the song. After asking around, people enjoyed that image, because it showed her might and her aesthetic beauty all at once, so I left it in.
"She said 'Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose' " While she never said this explicitly, I think it points to how those given power by another have the tendency to feel spoiled by it, the way a child who just became a king or queen might react to losing in a game.
"And you fall (and I fall apart watching you fall apart)" To write what I did, although it seems quite trivial in this posting, was torture for me. So it was like the destruction of two people at once. Mutually-assured destruction, for she and I.
Here's the lyrics to "The Stone:
[I am David
And I am practicing my sling
And you know this, you showed it...]
A similar scene is taking over me
When you step into the room, I bow down
You look around, you look around
And see everything you want is what you've found
And I am at a loss
'Cause I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, and you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, beautiful Goliath
She said "Stop, 'cause I don't know what it's like to lose"
"And with the way this is going, baby, why must you make me choose?"
In that space between fantasy and faith
I came back, and started making my way
To where I step into this battleground with you
I am David
And I am practicing my sling
Oh, you know this, you showed it
'Cause the throwing part is the hardest thing for me
You twist and turn me around
You take the love I give to you
And you hide it
My beautiful, oh...
And my words hit you like a Stone
And my words hit you like a Stone
My words
Hit you
Like a stone
And you fall, you fall, you fall
Oh I
Did arrive
Ready to fight this time.
You fall (And I fall apart watching you fall apart)
The song is my "hardest" to date, and we're still working on how we should record it. The discussion is centered on how this song could live on an album with less aggressive songs. But I am positive it can, and think it tells an important story.
Thanks for reading, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute to making this record happen! Another preview tomorrow!!
John
February 15, 2010
MY ALBUM PREVIEW, SONG 1: "Ophelia"
In a few short weeks, I will be taking on my most lofty project to date in my music career. My new album is a culmination of the past three years of life in New York City, and needs to be a very large step forward on the path to success. At least, that is the hope.
The whole album, to me, is about hope. Clinging to hope when you feel you have no one, or you are hurt by someone (or by yourself), and about redemption. It's a bit darker in tone than my earlier work, but I think it's more honest to who I am. I have a dark sense of humor, and often portray optimism outwardly as a means of never showing vulnerability. When actually, I am sometimes a real mess with anxiety and negativity.
There is no title for the album yet, as I'm going to wait until we're recording. But for now, each day I will write about a particular song, and give you the back story behind it as best I can.
If you are so inclined to donate towards making my album possible, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com and it is very easy to make a contribution. Anything you give is humbly accepted and beyond appreciated, and I will make good on even the slightest show of generosity.
So, here goes:
ALBUM PREVIEW - "OPHELIA"
"Ophelia" as a song is a product of a relationship and friendship I had with someone a few years back here in NYC. I had been living here just a short time, and while playing a show to almost no one, she happened to walk in and stay for my set. Afterward, we hit it off, but she was incredibly striking to look at, and intimidatingly smart. Because of that, I resigned that I would try to become her friend, and no more. There is nothing wrong with that, after all.
Well months of very honest emails and meetings up and phone calls culminated in her kissing me. I never imagined it would have happened. It really hit me by surprise. However, I was still a college student in my mind, I was not ready to be with a woman. So, I think we both realized it could not happen, and that our whole "testing the fences of friendship" experiment were not good.
The problem though, and where this all gets messy, is I started to fall in love with her. And I was in love with the idea of what it could mean for me. And because she did not seek out my affections beyond a very, very good friendship, I felt rejected and torn up.
So "Ophelia" is a bit of an over-reaction on my part. It's a response that if I can't have your love, I choose to not have anything else of you. It's weighing what I need and what I want, and deciding that it is time to say goodbye.
It also is a complete and total homage to my favorite piece of theatrical literature, "Hamlet." I read Hamlet in high school, and am to this day fascinated by his choice to fake, or "feign", madness in order to create a protective wall around which he could accomplish his goals. I pulled several images from the play in the song, including:
"Hamlet feigns madness" - we as people, often act out of character when confronted with new love. We say and do things we might not otherwise, because we THINK that is what we ought to do. We pretend to be something we are not. I was incredibly guilty of this.
"Play these plays, say these parts" - much of our interactions with people we desire are choreographed, intricate, and rehearsed. We go to eat, we self-disclose, we even keep a mental tally of where things are in terms of intimacy. Each new "benchmark" (poor word choice, sorry!) marks a more serious commitment. But it's a play, no different than seeing someone perform, say, Shakespeare.
"Kings will kill kings, and marry their Queens" - so often I see people being able to go from one person to the next, burning the proverbial candle at both ends, and yet I never seem to know how that works. I feel often immature, slow, and incomplete at something that so many people are so "good" at. The cycle always continues, too: he loves her, then she loves someone else, then she dumps him and likes his friend, so on and so forth. It's cut-throat and vicious sometimes.
"So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide, and decided she'd try to walk on water" - this line is not rooted in reality, meaning it has nothing to do with my life experience. In fact, a friend recommended I talk some about Ophelia drowning herself in Hamlet after he breaks off his engagement and accidentally kills her father. To me, Ophelia doesn't mean to drown herself. It's her only way out. She's a coward and so very weak when it comes to love because she is a hopeless romantic, and believes in all it can become. I think it's to such an extreme that she knew if two people combined with the same desperation, she may kill Hamlet and drown him with her.
She needs to be alone thinking that she's walking on water. Everyone else sees she's drowning. Then, she realizes she is drowning and love is lost. She keeps walking.
Here are the lyrics to "Ophelia":
Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."
We play these plays, and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
As we dance through all these issues in the dark
Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."
I just can't take the stage and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
We dance through all these issues in the dark
Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
to be lost on me.
And so to my Ophelia, "adieu, love, adieu."
It echoes through my heart and lungs
"Adieu, love adieu"
Adieu, love, adieu, love love love love love
So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide
And decided she'd try to walk on water
Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
To be lost on me
Oh, you're lost on me.
So the song is pretty loaded. And rooted in my own life, just like the other songs on the album. It will have this amazing drum beat and beautiful acoustic guitar lines, and perhaps a fretless or upright bass.
Thanks for reading my album preview! Nine more to go! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute!
John
The whole album, to me, is about hope. Clinging to hope when you feel you have no one, or you are hurt by someone (or by yourself), and about redemption. It's a bit darker in tone than my earlier work, but I think it's more honest to who I am. I have a dark sense of humor, and often portray optimism outwardly as a means of never showing vulnerability. When actually, I am sometimes a real mess with anxiety and negativity.
There is no title for the album yet, as I'm going to wait until we're recording. But for now, each day I will write about a particular song, and give you the back story behind it as best I can.
If you are so inclined to donate towards making my album possible, please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com and it is very easy to make a contribution. Anything you give is humbly accepted and beyond appreciated, and I will make good on even the slightest show of generosity.
So, here goes:
ALBUM PREVIEW - "OPHELIA"
"Ophelia" as a song is a product of a relationship and friendship I had with someone a few years back here in NYC. I had been living here just a short time, and while playing a show to almost no one, she happened to walk in and stay for my set. Afterward, we hit it off, but she was incredibly striking to look at, and intimidatingly smart. Because of that, I resigned that I would try to become her friend, and no more. There is nothing wrong with that, after all.
Well months of very honest emails and meetings up and phone calls culminated in her kissing me. I never imagined it would have happened. It really hit me by surprise. However, I was still a college student in my mind, I was not ready to be with a woman. So, I think we both realized it could not happen, and that our whole "testing the fences of friendship" experiment were not good.
The problem though, and where this all gets messy, is I started to fall in love with her. And I was in love with the idea of what it could mean for me. And because she did not seek out my affections beyond a very, very good friendship, I felt rejected and torn up.
So "Ophelia" is a bit of an over-reaction on my part. It's a response that if I can't have your love, I choose to not have anything else of you. It's weighing what I need and what I want, and deciding that it is time to say goodbye.
It also is a complete and total homage to my favorite piece of theatrical literature, "Hamlet." I read Hamlet in high school, and am to this day fascinated by his choice to fake, or "feign", madness in order to create a protective wall around which he could accomplish his goals. I pulled several images from the play in the song, including:
"Hamlet feigns madness" - we as people, often act out of character when confronted with new love. We say and do things we might not otherwise, because we THINK that is what we ought to do. We pretend to be something we are not. I was incredibly guilty of this.
"Play these plays, say these parts" - much of our interactions with people we desire are choreographed, intricate, and rehearsed. We go to eat, we self-disclose, we even keep a mental tally of where things are in terms of intimacy. Each new "benchmark" (poor word choice, sorry!) marks a more serious commitment. But it's a play, no different than seeing someone perform, say, Shakespeare.
"Kings will kill kings, and marry their Queens" - so often I see people being able to go from one person to the next, burning the proverbial candle at both ends, and yet I never seem to know how that works. I feel often immature, slow, and incomplete at something that so many people are so "good" at. The cycle always continues, too: he loves her, then she loves someone else, then she dumps him and likes his friend, so on and so forth. It's cut-throat and vicious sometimes.
"So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide, and decided she'd try to walk on water" - this line is not rooted in reality, meaning it has nothing to do with my life experience. In fact, a friend recommended I talk some about Ophelia drowning herself in Hamlet after he breaks off his engagement and accidentally kills her father. To me, Ophelia doesn't mean to drown herself. It's her only way out. She's a coward and so very weak when it comes to love because she is a hopeless romantic, and believes in all it can become. I think it's to such an extreme that she knew if two people combined with the same desperation, she may kill Hamlet and drown him with her.
She needs to be alone thinking that she's walking on water. Everyone else sees she's drowning. Then, she realizes she is drowning and love is lost. She keeps walking.
Here are the lyrics to "Ophelia":
Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."
We play these plays, and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
As we dance through all these issues in the dark
Hamlet to Ophelia, "Adieu, love, adieu."
Echoes through millennia
"Adieu, love, adieu."
I just can't take the stage and say these parts
While we dance through all these issues in the dark
Feigning madness from the start
We dance through all these issues in the dark
Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
to be lost on me.
And so to my Ophelia, "adieu, love, adieu."
It echoes through my heart and lungs
"Adieu, love adieu"
Adieu, love, adieu, love love love love love
So Ophelia stepped out into the Great Divide
And decided she'd try to walk on water
Because Kings will kill Kings
And marry their Queens
But love always seems
To be lost on me
Oh, you're lost on me.
So the song is pretty loaded. And rooted in my own life, just like the other songs on the album. It will have this amazing drum beat and beautiful acoustic guitar lines, and perhaps a fretless or upright bass.
Thanks for reading my album preview! Nine more to go! Please visit www.johnschmittalbum.com should you wish to contribute!
John
February 12, 2010
Getting Now Good
- There will be 10-12 new Celtic songs for all the upcoming Irish gigs. St. Patrick's Day is my favorite day of the year, not because of drinking. The music. I feel charged from forces greater than I with the responsibility of telling stories of all the men and women before me; to keep the ghosts alive for another year. The more I learn, the more I realize how heavy that responsibility really is.
- With three clicks of a mouse...POOF! There goes $1200. But it's nice to pay debt. And nice to feel like you start at 0, instead of -1200.
- This week has been a rebirth in many ways for me musically. I love playing, love singing, and am not panicking about my career. In time.
- The new song I wrote I believe is my most honest and best work to-date. I say that without hesitation, either.
- I decided how I am going to end my album, in terms of the very last thing the listener hears. I think it's appropriate given my upbringing and my family.
- The Sabres have lost 6 in a row. Which is precisely when I started to watch them. It's so frustrating seeing them crumble, seeing the management do nothing to make the team better. I pay $30 a month to watch the games, and it's not a pretty sight anymore. They are now in 2nd place, after having an 11-point lead on Ottawa just a short time ago.
- I miss my family. I'm excited to be coming home in a few weeks and see them.
February 11, 2010
Human Communication is Hysterical
"Good morning, Benefits, this is John"
::audible music in the background::
(Very effeminate voice) "Good morning! How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well. May I ask who is calling?"
"This is Anthony, calling from Bantu!"
"Oh yes, Anthony, I believe we spoke yesterday."
"I.....I don't think so?"
"You're calling about Portals, right?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, I spoke to you yesterday. You hung up on me."
::long pause, at least 5 seconds.::
"Uh, I wasn't supposed to call you back. Sorry."
::phone hangs up abruptly::
::audible music in the background::
(Very effeminate voice) "Good morning! How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well. May I ask who is calling?"
"This is Anthony, calling from Bantu!"
"Oh yes, Anthony, I believe we spoke yesterday."
"I.....I don't think so?"
"You're calling about Portals, right?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, I spoke to you yesterday. You hung up on me."
::long pause, at least 5 seconds.::
"Uh, I wasn't supposed to call you back. Sorry."
::phone hangs up abruptly::
February 9, 2010
A Man I Barely Knew (who is no more)
There was a doctor from eastern Europe who had developed a rare form of leukemia. His daughter, very young, had also developed leukemia at the same time as him. Here in the US, the doctor had a job working for a credit card company, and was married.
About 5 months ago, I was scheduled to go to play a hospital in Manhattan as part of the Musicians-on-Call Program. I volunteer about once a month on average for one evening, and spend the time walking room-to-room with Social Workers, playing songs for the patients in the oncology ward. It has been a tremendously rewarding experience, and particularly at this hospital, I have had a special bond with the folks that work there. They are all professional, kind people who take great pride in the quality of work they perform.
So, back to 5 months ago. I arrive, and the entire program was just as the other programs had gone: playing songs for people, seeing eyes well up, seeing families smile and sing along, dressing in and out of gowns, putting on gloves and face masks, and all the while singing fervently and with a passion. I connect better there than on any stage; music and its power is never more apparent than right there. But this night was not eventful, per se, from the other nights I spend there. They are all moving experiences.
On this particular night, one of the social workers that I did not know particularly well, asked me to make a special trip down to visit the doctor. He had been checked into the RCU (the Respiratory Intensive Care Unit), and was suffering greatly from his treatment and his cancer. The Social Worker asked that I just play a song because he would really enjoy it. No problem.
So we head down to floor 8, which is not where we normally go, and go into the doctors room. He was alone, it was about 7pm or so, and he was laying on his back, with his foot elevated. His leg had deep carvings out of it, most likely where surgery had been performed. He was not able to speak, or open his mouth, due to a feeding tube, and he could only make small moanings and slightly shift his head and face.
The Social Worker then gave me the go ahead, and I played the Beatles song, "In My Life." Particularly, I chose it because I thought he would know the Beatles, being from eastern Europe, and that song seems to be very sentimental. I've played it thousands of times, and so it was no problem. The performance itself, to me, was uneventful, as I played it how I always have. When I finished, his reaction was one of gratitude: he attempted to make eye contact with me, he moaned a bit, and he shifted his face towards the social worker with an urgent sense of appreciation. He wanted her to know he was thankful we came down.
The Social Worker and I then returned up to the 10th and 11th floors, where I played for a few more patients in their rooms, and eventually went home to Brooklyn.
I had not given that whole incidence any further thought until this morning. I was asked to perform at a board meeting for that hospital, as a special guest for a presentation regarding the Musicians-on-Call Program. In particular, this Board decides the funding for programs that the Social Workers have in place to support the patients and their families of the hospital.
The Social Worker I worked with 5 months ago was presenting, and she first talked about the Program, and how it came about, and what it does, and the power of music to help ease anxiety, loneliness, and boredom. She then brought up a case study. It was about the doctor.
She told the Board the doctor's demographic information, and then talked then about how I performed "In My Life" by the Beatles, and how apparent it was that the patient enjoyed the music.
She then went on to say that the patient died a day before his birthday, just a few months ago, succumbing to his illness. His wife made a point to share with the Social Worker just how much that one musical performance I gave meant to him, and how deeply it touched him.
She then asked me to play "In My Life" for the Board members, which I did.
"There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more"
They all politely clapped, and the Social Workers present said they were moved to tears, but really, it was I who was moved. I never knew I touched that man's life, someone I barely knew, who is no more. I guess you just never know what affect you can have when you're doing something good. It may seem monotonous and routine (as playing cover songs usually feels to me), but the beauty of music as a medium can transform you. If you have an open heart, it can work wonders.
So I write this not out of personal gain. I don't want praise from anyone for my volunteer work. And I don't want any sort of points from it on any level. What I do want to share is what it feels like to be an instrument of peace. That ordinary people like you, and certainly like me, can carry such weight with them just by using their talents to help others. And in some cases, they can make an impacting difference. But you have to get busy.
So, to the doctor, a man I barely knew, who is no more, it was a real pleasure of my life to perform for you. And I hope you are pain-free, wherever you might be.
About 5 months ago, I was scheduled to go to play a hospital in Manhattan as part of the Musicians-on-Call Program. I volunteer about once a month on average for one evening, and spend the time walking room-to-room with Social Workers, playing songs for the patients in the oncology ward. It has been a tremendously rewarding experience, and particularly at this hospital, I have had a special bond with the folks that work there. They are all professional, kind people who take great pride in the quality of work they perform.
So, back to 5 months ago. I arrive, and the entire program was just as the other programs had gone: playing songs for people, seeing eyes well up, seeing families smile and sing along, dressing in and out of gowns, putting on gloves and face masks, and all the while singing fervently and with a passion. I connect better there than on any stage; music and its power is never more apparent than right there. But this night was not eventful, per se, from the other nights I spend there. They are all moving experiences.
On this particular night, one of the social workers that I did not know particularly well, asked me to make a special trip down to visit the doctor. He had been checked into the RCU (the Respiratory Intensive Care Unit), and was suffering greatly from his treatment and his cancer. The Social Worker asked that I just play a song because he would really enjoy it. No problem.
So we head down to floor 8, which is not where we normally go, and go into the doctors room. He was alone, it was about 7pm or so, and he was laying on his back, with his foot elevated. His leg had deep carvings out of it, most likely where surgery had been performed. He was not able to speak, or open his mouth, due to a feeding tube, and he could only make small moanings and slightly shift his head and face.
The Social Worker then gave me the go ahead, and I played the Beatles song, "In My Life." Particularly, I chose it because I thought he would know the Beatles, being from eastern Europe, and that song seems to be very sentimental. I've played it thousands of times, and so it was no problem. The performance itself, to me, was uneventful, as I played it how I always have. When I finished, his reaction was one of gratitude: he attempted to make eye contact with me, he moaned a bit, and he shifted his face towards the social worker with an urgent sense of appreciation. He wanted her to know he was thankful we came down.
The Social Worker and I then returned up to the 10th and 11th floors, where I played for a few more patients in their rooms, and eventually went home to Brooklyn.
I had not given that whole incidence any further thought until this morning. I was asked to perform at a board meeting for that hospital, as a special guest for a presentation regarding the Musicians-on-Call Program. In particular, this Board decides the funding for programs that the Social Workers have in place to support the patients and their families of the hospital.
The Social Worker I worked with 5 months ago was presenting, and she first talked about the Program, and how it came about, and what it does, and the power of music to help ease anxiety, loneliness, and boredom. She then brought up a case study. It was about the doctor.
She told the Board the doctor's demographic information, and then talked then about how I performed "In My Life" by the Beatles, and how apparent it was that the patient enjoyed the music.
She then went on to say that the patient died a day before his birthday, just a few months ago, succumbing to his illness. His wife made a point to share with the Social Worker just how much that one musical performance I gave meant to him, and how deeply it touched him.
She then asked me to play "In My Life" for the Board members, which I did.
"There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more"
They all politely clapped, and the Social Workers present said they were moved to tears, but really, it was I who was moved. I never knew I touched that man's life, someone I barely knew, who is no more. I guess you just never know what affect you can have when you're doing something good. It may seem monotonous and routine (as playing cover songs usually feels to me), but the beauty of music as a medium can transform you. If you have an open heart, it can work wonders.
So I write this not out of personal gain. I don't want praise from anyone for my volunteer work. And I don't want any sort of points from it on any level. What I do want to share is what it feels like to be an instrument of peace. That ordinary people like you, and certainly like me, can carry such weight with them just by using their talents to help others. And in some cases, they can make an impacting difference. But you have to get busy.
So, to the doctor, a man I barely knew, who is no more, it was a real pleasure of my life to perform for you. And I hope you are pain-free, wherever you might be.
February 8, 2010
A Dirge and a Requiem for Formative Years
Here's the music to the new song. I wrote it humming at work on my lunch break, and it seemingly came out of nowhere.I set out writing about a particular person, and about a particular thing I'm thinking of doing. This song, a more honest and accurate depiction of my position on it, came out.
It's just... honest. And sincere. And the fact that I've been able to finally use such morbid images and church-like phrasing and chords, is important to me.
Have you ever felt a part of you has died? The cause could be anything, and does not necessarily need to be bad. In my case, there's an end to an era I've held onto for so long; my formative years.
Also, what is worth risking for love? Your biggest dreams? Would moving somewhere other than NYC be a sign of defeat? Just so you can love someone? I struggle with these things lately.
I arrived at a point where I know my heart is speaking to my head. It wouldn't work. I'd hate myself for not being in New York, and I'd find a way to dismantle any sort of relationship I have. So, I would rather risk keeping myself single, and hope someday she is still single, and move when it seems more opportunistic.
I will end my days in Buffalo; I will be "dearly departed from the land that I started". I hope to, at least, but it's just not right yet. Timing is everything.
I am not posting audio of the song, because I want people to hear it on the album. If you see me live, I'll do it then, too. But otherwise, no.
February 4, 2010
Done :)
My thoughts are so heavy
My intentions so pure
That I can't even stand
When she enters the door
It's like the Queen is in session
And all I can do
Is sing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
She can give life so freely
To be honest and brave
They'll be counting for decades
The lives that she saved
I will fore go the distance
And the walls in between
My sights are now setting
On courting the Queen
CH: So I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches the pipe dreams pass away
I had dreams I would move here
And take it by storm
To return all victorious
to the land I was born
And when I'm dearly departed
in the land that I started
The Queen and her subjects would mourn
CH: But I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches his pipe dreams pass away.
BRIDGE: So I will stand here and wait
For the one who is always late
I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
My intentions so pure
That I can't even stand
When she enters the door
It's like the Queen is in session
And all I can do
Is sing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
She can give life so freely
To be honest and brave
They'll be counting for decades
The lives that she saved
I will fore go the distance
And the walls in between
My sights are now setting
On courting the Queen
CH: So I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches the pipe dreams pass away
I had dreams I would move here
And take it by storm
To return all victorious
to the land I was born
And when I'm dearly departed
in the land that I started
The Queen and her subjects would mourn
CH: But I die for the very first time
Sing dirges and requiem masses
For an age, a place, a time, and a boy
Who watches his pipe dreams pass away.
BRIDGE: So I will stand here and wait
For the one who is always late
I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
I gave up so soon
To be in this room
Singing "Ave Regina,
Ave to you."
Bookends
"Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago, it must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left of you"
-Bookends, Simon & Garfunkel
A time of innocence.
Of learning.
Of becoming aware.
That's 2009 for me.
A year that saw me push my music career along
Saw me commit to living well
Saw me grasp Adulthood,
Put both my hands on Her rosy cheeks
And say, "Yes."
The countless shows played,
Well over 100,
Probably close to 200.
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left of you.
It's literally all that I have
Worth living for.
I'm storing up this thing called Experience
In the hopes that it guides me straighter
Along the path.
How tragic is the forgotten artist
How woeful a lot to be left behind.
The photograph and resume cast aside
And the little children scamper forward
Not missing a beat.
A close look at a not-so-distant photograph
::a silent beat::
Then drawing nearer to the eyes,
"Wooooooow."
February 3, 2010
RE-POST: Kings will Kill Kings, and Marry their Queens
Needed to re-post this, as it really highlights some things about me now. Enjoy.
My stomach is finally settled. BURP. I drank too much; I got sick on Saturday night. But that's neither here nor there...
Friday was reminiscent of how my days were a few months ago. Jay was home working and seeing his family, Vinny was out to dinner with someone, and Elliot was working I believe, so I had the house to myself. I remember how I used to have that every night when Ryan still lived with us, and at first I cherished it, but it began to weigh on me.
Well, I welcomed the solitude for once. I was invited out to see Maria and Carolyn, but I was already down to boxers and a t-shirt, eating some chicken and watching baseball when she called. Another time for sure.
My time alone was wonderful, watching baseball and studying the game as usual. No other sport can attract both casual fans and "student" fans. I'm a student, and I love to see stats, match-ups, tension, and drama play out on the field. The Yankees lost 2-0 on Friday night to the Mets, and although they lost, it was great to see an entire game. That's the beauty about baseball. The Yankees lose to their cross-town rivals, and everyone just says, "eh, get em next time" and heads home. There are no tears, no screams, no boos, just a feeling that it's a long season, and sometimes you take your lumps, sometimes you give the lumps. It's a great way to view life. Every loss is not a cause for concern, unless the losses start piling up. Every win isn't meant to be jubilant, unless the wins start piling up. Then, in the end, the sum of our consistent efforts is what translates into victory or defeat. The way school works, with all the quizzes, papers, tests, projects, and so on. The way a marathon works, one foot in front of the other, 25+ miles.
After the game, I decided I would go lay down for the night, with it still early, because I knew full well that tomorrow would be a long day. When I sat in bed, I accidentally click on my blog when trying to log into myspace or something, and my last post came up. I read through it, and had an almost out-of-body experience. Often times I will re-read words or lines I have written, and they almost seem to be from the mind of someone else. I never quite know why my soul chooses the words that it does, and I think when I am in a logical, normal mode, like right now, my mind is speaking. But, when I wash away all the muck, and let the soul speak, I see and read things I wasn't sure I was capable of articulating.
For example, I wrote, in reference to my feelings of loss and being let down: "Hamlet to Ophelia: Adieu, adieu." In context, it made perfect sense. Hamlet is the most compelling and intriguing character I have ever encountered in literature. The stakes for him could not be higher - a recently dead father-king, an uncle marrying a recently-widowed mother-queen, and a ghost commanding him to "avenge me." He is betrothed to Ophelia, daughter to Polonius, a court advisor. Hamlet suspects his uncle has killed his father, and then charmed his mother in order to become king. He feigns madness (if you ask me), and casts aside all others in his attempt to get revenge.
Hamlet's relationship with Ophelia is one that particularly always interested me. While pretending to be insane, he pushes her away; he calls her names, shoves her, and makes her incredibly uncomfortable. Then, after an unfortunate accident, he accidentally kills Polonius, her father. Ophelia then goes insane from this, and kills herself out of grief. She lost everything, including herself. Hamlet pushed her away, on purpose; he removed her from his love and affections.
Looking at things from Hamlet's perspective, there were so very many factors that were weighing on him. He had the immense grief of suddenly losing his father, coupled with the frightening and sobering request of the spirit to "avenge me." He had intense anger at his mother for not mourning her husband long enough, and quickly marrying his brother. He had recurring thoughts of suicide, which is where the "To be or not to be? That is the question." speech came from. His childhood friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, were trying to murder him, and his future father-in-law, Polonius, worked for his uncle and was a royal pain in his side. All this swirling around his head, his room, his life, his sleep, his soul.
And then there was Ophelia. The little flower that loved him. The one source of true love and concern in his life. His one opportunity to feel alive again, to feel something again. Hamlet becomes an animal before our eyes, and his one chance to turn back, if you ask me, was in staying with Ophelia. Hamlet slaved over this, until finally deciding he would end his times with her, as it oft made him lose focus on what he felt needed to be done. He called her a whore, screaming "Get thee to a nunnery!" and scared her sick. Polonius was trying to use her with him, and he realized it, and needed to cut her off.
Now, that is remarkable. Standing in the face of all that, Hamlet even turns away romantic love. Not even his heart is worth saving, and he shuts it down. That is where I can begin to relate. I have never lost someone so dear to me so suddenly, and my heart goes out to those who have. I can only speculate on what that must do to your feelings and mind and body. But I do know what it is like to deny someone your affections, despite your inner-workings wanting otherwise. I know what it is like to feel tricked by someone you loved, as Hamlet did with Ophelia, and feeling the wrath associated with it. It makes you a cold, calculating animal. You want to feel nothing, and you want to build a massive wall, so your bleeding stops and you keep any new information from getting in. You say adieu, not bon voyage. Adieu, out of frustration, longing, anger, and sobering clarity.
There is another facet to this I think. It is more a jealous feeling than anything. There are certain people who have a knack, not that much different than the way I have a *knack* for solving problems with electronics, for being in love. They go from one, to another, to another, to another, blowing through people, cherishing every moment, and getting drunk or high from whatever it is that love does to us. You know what I mean; this is not just some girl who finds her flavor-of-the-night when out, or a guy who hooks up all the time. I'm talking about the people who have 7 6-month relationships in a row, dating back to sophomore year in high school, or the ones that always are on the cusp of seeing someone new, because she seems so exotic, wild, or grounded and normal for once. I don't really understand it - is there a love receptor that they are especially biologically attuned to? Do they just get lucky that many times?
I have been in love twice in my life. For two distinct periods, no more than 14 months at a time. I have much to show from those two times, and I cherish them no matter how they worked out or ended. They are times I fall back on when I feel no love, and those people, ironically enough, are still a big part of my life. The love never leaves you, you know?
But what is frustrating is how so many people blow through others like Hamlet's mother. They mourn a relationship for a moment, and jump at the next thing that comes forward. Good for them, right? Way to get back on the horse, eh? Just because I haven't had that good fortune, doesn't mean I should get pissed at those who have, ya know?
Yeah I know, I get it. And I cannot just neatly put someone away and stop feeling. I cannot pour myself into someone new without living out the one before. It fucks me up too much. I doubt myself, my spirits, and who I am as a man before I can ever let someone new in. And I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around the people who can do that with new people. I admire you, and wish I had what you have. I get tastes of love every now and then, and I get all excited and anxious for it to take hold, and then I'm left there as the bus leaves. "Head in my hands, here I am standing in my bare feet / watching you drive away, watching you drive away."
Hamlet has shown me a way that I can deal. I have to turn to ice, to completely shut down. To guard myself ferociously until that hurt goes away. It feels like a caged animal, more a golden retriever, who wants to lick everyone's face, but can't get out of his pen. You say adieu, you must say adieu.
So love is lost on me, and maybe always will. I've yet to meet someone willing to give what I want to give, at the amount I do and expect. I wonder if there is such a person.
And in this very notion, I began to play my guitar in my room, and a song came out. Based on Hamlet, based on me, feeling the depth that comes from a soul speaking, not a mind. It felt GOOD. REALLY GOOD.
I went to bed on Friday feeling numb, but comforted in my new addition to my repertoire.
Saturday was good, with rehearsal, the show, good friends, and getting sick on the way home. We played excellently, and Zuppe came up to play bass with me, which meant so much. I felt respected by him; I felt I was part of the scene here. He's a tough sell, and he was itching to play on stage with me. It was wonderful. Maia Davies was wonderful, all the way from Quebec. I was so sorry I missed her show on Sunday too. But I suspect we will cross paths again soon.
Sunday was golf and relaxation, once I calmed down about playing terribly. But, my spirits were up and it was a nice day to hang out with Vinny and laugh. My friends make my life so beautiful, so wonderful, in their own way.
Wow, this is long. But I can go on and on about Shakespeare, most especially Hamlet. It feels good to articulate that all for myself, and for others it may ring true with as well.
Adieu.
My stomach is finally settled. BURP. I drank too much; I got sick on Saturday night. But that's neither here nor there...
Friday was reminiscent of how my days were a few months ago. Jay was home working and seeing his family, Vinny was out to dinner with someone, and Elliot was working I believe, so I had the house to myself. I remember how I used to have that every night when Ryan still lived with us, and at first I cherished it, but it began to weigh on me.
Well, I welcomed the solitude for once. I was invited out to see Maria and Carolyn, but I was already down to boxers and a t-shirt, eating some chicken and watching baseball when she called. Another time for sure.
My time alone was wonderful, watching baseball and studying the game as usual. No other sport can attract both casual fans and "student" fans. I'm a student, and I love to see stats, match-ups, tension, and drama play out on the field. The Yankees lost 2-0 on Friday night to the Mets, and although they lost, it was great to see an entire game. That's the beauty about baseball. The Yankees lose to their cross-town rivals, and everyone just says, "eh, get em next time" and heads home. There are no tears, no screams, no boos, just a feeling that it's a long season, and sometimes you take your lumps, sometimes you give the lumps. It's a great way to view life. Every loss is not a cause for concern, unless the losses start piling up. Every win isn't meant to be jubilant, unless the wins start piling up. Then, in the end, the sum of our consistent efforts is what translates into victory or defeat. The way school works, with all the quizzes, papers, tests, projects, and so on. The way a marathon works, one foot in front of the other, 25+ miles.
After the game, I decided I would go lay down for the night, with it still early, because I knew full well that tomorrow would be a long day. When I sat in bed, I accidentally click on my blog when trying to log into myspace or something, and my last post came up. I read through it, and had an almost out-of-body experience. Often times I will re-read words or lines I have written, and they almost seem to be from the mind of someone else. I never quite know why my soul chooses the words that it does, and I think when I am in a logical, normal mode, like right now, my mind is speaking. But, when I wash away all the muck, and let the soul speak, I see and read things I wasn't sure I was capable of articulating.
For example, I wrote, in reference to my feelings of loss and being let down: "Hamlet to Ophelia: Adieu, adieu." In context, it made perfect sense. Hamlet is the most compelling and intriguing character I have ever encountered in literature. The stakes for him could not be higher - a recently dead father-king, an uncle marrying a recently-widowed mother-queen, and a ghost commanding him to "avenge me." He is betrothed to Ophelia, daughter to Polonius, a court advisor. Hamlet suspects his uncle has killed his father, and then charmed his mother in order to become king. He feigns madness (if you ask me), and casts aside all others in his attempt to get revenge.
Hamlet's relationship with Ophelia is one that particularly always interested me. While pretending to be insane, he pushes her away; he calls her names, shoves her, and makes her incredibly uncomfortable. Then, after an unfortunate accident, he accidentally kills Polonius, her father. Ophelia then goes insane from this, and kills herself out of grief. She lost everything, including herself. Hamlet pushed her away, on purpose; he removed her from his love and affections.
Looking at things from Hamlet's perspective, there were so very many factors that were weighing on him. He had the immense grief of suddenly losing his father, coupled with the frightening and sobering request of the spirit to "avenge me." He had intense anger at his mother for not mourning her husband long enough, and quickly marrying his brother. He had recurring thoughts of suicide, which is where the "To be or not to be? That is the question." speech came from. His childhood friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, were trying to murder him, and his future father-in-law, Polonius, worked for his uncle and was a royal pain in his side. All this swirling around his head, his room, his life, his sleep, his soul.
And then there was Ophelia. The little flower that loved him. The one source of true love and concern in his life. His one opportunity to feel alive again, to feel something again. Hamlet becomes an animal before our eyes, and his one chance to turn back, if you ask me, was in staying with Ophelia. Hamlet slaved over this, until finally deciding he would end his times with her, as it oft made him lose focus on what he felt needed to be done. He called her a whore, screaming "Get thee to a nunnery!" and scared her sick. Polonius was trying to use her with him, and he realized it, and needed to cut her off.
Now, that is remarkable. Standing in the face of all that, Hamlet even turns away romantic love. Not even his heart is worth saving, and he shuts it down. That is where I can begin to relate. I have never lost someone so dear to me so suddenly, and my heart goes out to those who have. I can only speculate on what that must do to your feelings and mind and body. But I do know what it is like to deny someone your affections, despite your inner-workings wanting otherwise. I know what it is like to feel tricked by someone you loved, as Hamlet did with Ophelia, and feeling the wrath associated with it. It makes you a cold, calculating animal. You want to feel nothing, and you want to build a massive wall, so your bleeding stops and you keep any new information from getting in. You say adieu, not bon voyage. Adieu, out of frustration, longing, anger, and sobering clarity.
There is another facet to this I think. It is more a jealous feeling than anything. There are certain people who have a knack, not that much different than the way I have a *knack* for solving problems with electronics, for being in love. They go from one, to another, to another, to another, blowing through people, cherishing every moment, and getting drunk or high from whatever it is that love does to us. You know what I mean; this is not just some girl who finds her flavor-of-the-night when out, or a guy who hooks up all the time. I'm talking about the people who have 7 6-month relationships in a row, dating back to sophomore year in high school, or the ones that always are on the cusp of seeing someone new, because she seems so exotic, wild, or grounded and normal for once. I don't really understand it - is there a love receptor that they are especially biologically attuned to? Do they just get lucky that many times?
I have been in love twice in my life. For two distinct periods, no more than 14 months at a time. I have much to show from those two times, and I cherish them no matter how they worked out or ended. They are times I fall back on when I feel no love, and those people, ironically enough, are still a big part of my life. The love never leaves you, you know?
But what is frustrating is how so many people blow through others like Hamlet's mother. They mourn a relationship for a moment, and jump at the next thing that comes forward. Good for them, right? Way to get back on the horse, eh? Just because I haven't had that good fortune, doesn't mean I should get pissed at those who have, ya know?
Yeah I know, I get it. And I cannot just neatly put someone away and stop feeling. I cannot pour myself into someone new without living out the one before. It fucks me up too much. I doubt myself, my spirits, and who I am as a man before I can ever let someone new in. And I cannot even begin to wrap my mind around the people who can do that with new people. I admire you, and wish I had what you have. I get tastes of love every now and then, and I get all excited and anxious for it to take hold, and then I'm left there as the bus leaves. "Head in my hands, here I am standing in my bare feet / watching you drive away, watching you drive away."
Hamlet has shown me a way that I can deal. I have to turn to ice, to completely shut down. To guard myself ferociously until that hurt goes away. It feels like a caged animal, more a golden retriever, who wants to lick everyone's face, but can't get out of his pen. You say adieu, you must say adieu.
So love is lost on me, and maybe always will. I've yet to meet someone willing to give what I want to give, at the amount I do and expect. I wonder if there is such a person.
And in this very notion, I began to play my guitar in my room, and a song came out. Based on Hamlet, based on me, feeling the depth that comes from a soul speaking, not a mind. It felt GOOD. REALLY GOOD.
I went to bed on Friday feeling numb, but comforted in my new addition to my repertoire.
Saturday was good, with rehearsal, the show, good friends, and getting sick on the way home. We played excellently, and Zuppe came up to play bass with me, which meant so much. I felt respected by him; I felt I was part of the scene here. He's a tough sell, and he was itching to play on stage with me. It was wonderful. Maia Davies was wonderful, all the way from Quebec. I was so sorry I missed her show on Sunday too. But I suspect we will cross paths again soon.
Sunday was golf and relaxation, once I calmed down about playing terribly. But, my spirits were up and it was a nice day to hang out with Vinny and laugh. My friends make my life so beautiful, so wonderful, in their own way.
Wow, this is long. But I can go on and on about Shakespeare, most especially Hamlet. It feels good to articulate that all for myself, and for others it may ring true with as well.
Adieu.
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