Burns & Allen

And somebody named Astaire too. Whit Stillman turned me on to A Damsel In Distress. It is absolutely wonderful.

How Time Disappears

I have a massive collection of music. Tapes, records, compact discs, digitized, not to mention streaming radio and so on. I have lots of guitars and a keyboard that I could make music on. But has been the case since my mid-20's I often find myself paralyzed by the choices of what to listen to or play. And I find an entire afternoon has gotten away. Oh well. Time to dance instead.

Stuff From Old Notebooks Returns

Just random nonsense I wrote back in 1987. That was a long time ago. You do the math. I'm like a bad 45 flip side: depressed and kind of feeling morbid. "Put The Bone In" anyone? Although come to think of it the A-side "Seasons In The Sun" is even more depressing. Obligatory Terry Jacks reference. My 1st grade teacher Miss Wilson would play that song almost every day during our nap time before putting on some Peter & The Wolf album. I want to be different this time. Just pretend you don't know me or that I'm Gibby Haynes's brother. Ok. Let everything spin away from my touch. Take a pink pill and try to make a break. Back to New Years Day 1981 walking along Prindle Avenue hand in heart with _____. Years I can't believe who I was. Her hair looked like the Sixties and Abbie Hoffman came by too. [editor's note: I was obsessed with Abbie Hoffman during my early 20's] Pavement was so hot nobody could relax at all. You know what I mean. Gray sky ladies walking by. Nothing like a worn in pair of sneakers. I want to learn about poetry. Tell me why the sky is blue. Why can't I fall in love with you? Blades of grass in your fingers. Dandelions twisted between your toes. Another steeplechase. Got kicked by the Berlin Wall. It all seemed different from the last time. All he knew was he needed sleep. Fast! Damn it. Thoreau: We should be men first, subjects afterward. Waterbugs sulking in a corner. The screenplay "It Came From Mr. Ed!" lies in a crumple pun the tiles. The first scene is a tight closeup of TV Guide then black out. Steadicam moving through the darkness of Mazzio's Pizza and out of the walk-in cooler emerges Doug Camp. Cut to a closeup on punker's mouth screaming. He turns to someone off screen. "This movie really freaks me out. It's so real. Why don't we watch something else." The channel is flipped to a televangelist with a huge pompadour and a bright red suit. "Send me all your money viewers or you will end up in HELL!!!!" The channel is flipped again. The televangelist is now on every station. "Shit! I really need to get cable," mutters the punker. I won't faint when I see your true self. I will accept it. And then I will write about it. The girl with the felt tip shoes left her footprints all over the bouncer's heart. A six pack of Coors beer, pulp novel, and a cold shower and there was nothing left but ink stains. Dawn broke and it sounded like trains.

Everything I Love Has Been Torn Down

Tom Littlefield of The Questionnaires wrote that line. The song was "Boomtown" written about mid 80's Nashville. The Ryman was still boarded up - lucky to have not been turned into a parking lot. Nashville was like most of the country. Ahistorical. The past is just a memory. And now that I've probably passed the mid-point of my time on this rock I find more and more things have become just memories. And Littlefield's lyrics come to me. Periodically. A declaration of fact. And left out there unbidden and unwritten - not part of his song - is the mirror opposite that everything I hate is still standing.

Kiss Inducted Into The Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame

An all new wing of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame is being built just for the Polaroid pictures.

Short Posts

Short posts for the time being while I recharge my mind. I am Wally.

What Do You Want To Do With Your Life?

I wanna rock.

Obligatory Thanksgiving Post

I ate turkey. I'm going to see the Predators play the Oilers since the tickets are paid for. It is very cold in Tennessee. Life goes on. I am ready for a new year already.

So UnFoCUseD

My brain is so unfocused. I wonder if it's a product of the new media world we live in or if it's just your standard "shudder" middle age "shudder" thing. It's probably just me. Always with a book open when the television or radio is on. Maybe read 2 sentences and then throw the book on top of the pile and grab another one or maybe a magazine. Always starting but never finishing for months on end and then suddenly I get focused and have read 7 books in a row or written 7 new songs. My unemployment is not helping matters. Now I can spread my unfocused energies across the spectrum. I spent an hour the other day writing a piece for this blog, when I suddenly realized I had written much the same piece 8 years earlier. I feel like a gunfighter out of bullets. Nothing left to do but throw my boots and spurs and run.

Flailing

Deepak Chopra was on Conan last night saying one should not think of the past or the future but only of now, because that is all we all. The present. But Ken Kesey taught me there is no present. We are all just merely watching a movie in our minds. Always a synapse firing away from actual now. Be here now is a logical impossibility.

My current mood to all of this is to go full on Monty Python "taunt you a second time" mode. I am currently without a job. Due to my back the only work I can obtain would be office related. I know I should be patient. My skills and experience should land me somewhere soon, but that evil genius Tom Petty was right about the "waiting being the hardest part" even if we was referring to love and not career. To think Clive Davis picked Dwight Twilley over Tom.

I am just flailing right now. All of my close friends live far away. I am mentally and physically wasting away in Smithville. The small town atmosphere was okay when all of my children were small, but I feel like my brain cells aren't merely dying. They are escaping through my skull screaming through the atmosphere before imploding.

Perhaps it's not just locale and lack of a job though. Perhaps I'm on the verge of a full fledged middle aged morbid breakdown. Hair falling out. Fat piling on. Friends I knew back in the day dropping like flies too. Perhaps there is nothing new under the sun and this part of my life is the same normality most people never let on to having. All I know is I have to got to get it together.

Sweet Lou Coney Island Warriors

Sunday's news that Lou Reed died shook me up. It shouldn't have been a shock. He'd been living on borrowed time since the 70's. Yet there I was on the verge of tears...at any minute I might have become a blubbering fool. But I kept my cool. I had to for Lou. After all; he was the coolest (sorry Fonzie, but you're like the Ted Nugent version of cool - all sex and rock'n'roll without the drugs).

I discovered the Velvet Underground in high school. Where The Doors had been bubblegum acid trips, the VU was the sound of the junkie gutter. Depravity. Ultimate rebellion. I was soon so into them that I was even checking out Delmore Schwartz books. I dipped into dreams being responsibilities. I bought Transformer and thought about hitting people with flowers. I learned guitar to "Sweet Jane" and formed a band. And then another one. And another one.

I've been listening to the Coney Island Baby album often since Sunday. It was a "comeback" album for Lou after Metal Machine Music had soured most everyone, besides Lester Bangs, on him. Coney Island Baby was received well by the critics. I think it even sold a few copies. I didn't get this record until I was pushing middle age and my first listen was one of mild amusement. That has changed over the years. I've come to admire it's studio sheen mixed with confessional Lou lyrics. It has a stately gutter punk grandeur to it that I like. It has comforted me in this first week without Lou.

Back From The Land Of The Dead

I am back. I've spent years wandering the land of the dead (Facebook), but I've had my fill of cat photos, political misinformation from all sides, dumb rumors....hell the list of time killing brain cell destroying items could take a lifetime to disclose. It almost destroyed my ability to communicate. To be, of all things, SOCIAL. So as of today I am breaking away back to my first foray into the web. Back to my home Soulfish Stew where the party never ends and where I am master of all. Where I am forced to confront a blank page and produce something for my and your amusement. Right now there is no amusement for me. I am jobless for the first time in 13 years. I made a huge mistake and switched departments where I worked and crashed and burned after a new manager came in. So I've got way too much time on my hand to play Doodle Jump. So I'm spending my days sending out resumes and perusing every job site out there. My fevered mind is in failure mode. Which is another reason I'm back to my blog. Forgive me if this starts slow, but soon I will be in full Wally spontaneous composing method and I will feel much better. I'm kicking around E-book ideas too. So don't cry for me Argentina....well okay cry a little. Things are going to look up for this intrepid fool.