Another Musician Exits the Stage.

Another musician has passed.

I must acknowledge that he was a part of my growing up years.

The sheer number of the work he produced would have been hard to miss.

And now I have another admission, I wasn’t a fan.

He had a wonderful voice and was a talented musician.

I just did not care much for his style, I guess you could say.

Like Michael Jackson, who was an excellent performer, it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

I could jump on the bandwagon and say I actually loved his music  all the time, but that, to me, would be the ultimate in disrespect.

I am sorry for his family and his friends who will miss him.

For his fans he was a light that went out way to soon.

We only knew him from his work; his friends and family will mourn the man and the rest of the world the artist.

Whichever group one falls into, we have to admit he made an impact and that is no small accomplishment.

Feel free to share your thoughts if you were a fan.






Revisiting Daily Writing

I was rereading through some of these posts and I am wondering if it would be beneficial to me to go back to writing out my pain at least every other day if not every day?

I have always hesitated to do a daily blog, because to be frank they bore the hell out of me, mostly. Many are written more like a list of what the person did or their kids did that day.

Perhaps, pain is not what I mean more like emotions, as in, writing out the emotions every day, getting a sense, once again, of who I am and why I am feeling the way I do. Writing is the only way I know how to do that.

I have neglected my writing for some time, covering up much of my sadness by laughing and making jokes. I have spent my time on social media instead of writing.

I have done what I do a lot, run from the feelings, until they overwhelm me and I embrace them like a cruel lover, one from whom I cannot seem to leave off altogether, but that I know is not good for me.

I never seem quite able to break the shackles that bind me to a wall of despair and the sad thing is I voluntarily place myself into those shackles at times.

So, for now, I think I will write everyday, not necessarily publish every day.

Not Taking Sides

At 47 years of age I have come to the conclusion that it is no longer important to try and get people to be on my side and that it does not make one bit of difference if they are.
What matters is that I am on my side.
I do not say this from some over-inflated sense of self-worth or ego.
I do not mean to say people’s opinion of me never matters, it does at times.
I do not think this a bad thing some people’s good opinion is worth having.
I, however, have to live with my decisions and others must live with theirs.
Some people will never be on my side and I will not waste any time in worrying about that.
Those who support me will have my gratitude, but it will not affect my ability to do what I think best.
I will not base my decisions on who may or may not agree with me, but only by what I think is right or what I perceive is the necessary action in the given situation.
I no longer try and prove I am right and the other guy or gal is wrong.
Time usually has a way of sorting things out, if we let it, and if not all the shouting or arguing my side of things will not make people who wish to think ill of me think any better of me than they do now.
When I was younger some things that seemed so important no longer carry any weight.
Time spent worrying about those who do not know me or those who do not really care about me is wasted time and I no longer indulge in that form of self-pity.
The thing that matters is that I surround myself with people who truly care about me and spend less time with those who only seek to create drama and chaos in my life.
The most important question is not whether this person or that person will be on my side but Can I live with myself after I make this decision?
Other people will come and go but I am always stuck with myself and would like the last few years of my life to have as few regrets as possible.

She Rampaged Out.

If you have ever read Dickens “Great Expectations” you know all about Mrs. Joe and her rampages. Whenever she felt her much younger brother, Pip had done something to annoy her she would give Pip a good whacking with a stick she named “Tickler” One day Pip wasn’t there when Mrs. Joe thought he outta be. When he finally arrives to home he is greeted by Joe, the blacksmith, who explains his wives’ absence by stating that she had grabbed tickler and that “she rampaged out.”

A long story, to say that whenever I see someone on social media post several posts in a row aimed at a particular person to show how stupid, trampy, bad, horrible, all around scoundrel another person is I always think of that quote from the book…”she made a grab at old tickler and she rampaged out…”

It could be very true the person is all those things mentioned, but it does seem a little excessive and much like a rampage.

I have mentioned names about 3 times and all 3 times I was ashamed of myself. All three times I deleted those posts. So, now whenever I am tempted to do so I think of what it will look like and I think of Mrs. Joe and her rampaging and I refrain.

Naked Truth.

Empty countryside road through fields with wheat - stock photo

The truth is not what most people want despite their protests.
What I find , is that most people want a watered down truth that fits within their own scope of ideas and beliefs.
Truth is hard, unrelenting, and not what most people imagine. It doesn’t care if you believe what it shows you or not; it has no sympathy.
It breaks up long-held beliefs, no matter how much you have cherished them. It doesn’t care how much attached to them you are.
Truth is not a sentimentalist; it sees nothing through rose-colored glasses. It doesn’t care how much it hurts when it shatters your illusions.
Truth is not a motivator it is simply what it is. If you are motivated to change, that is great, if not, well the truth will still be the truth.
Most of us paint pretty pictures for ourselves and call that the truth. If truth is insulted you won’t hear it complain, it doesn’t hang around in fantasy worlds.
It is stark, naked, and often ugly, but if we let it, truth will change us into more resilient humans that are not so easily fooled and can face any storm.

When I Learned the Truth.

You ever have a song that you identified strongly with in your youth? The song you played over and over again, shut up alone in your bedroom, the one you cried about?  I have been thinking about that song lately and how much I identified with the lyrics, sad as they were.  Chubby, painfully shy, and unpopular the song below somewhat describes when I became aware, if you will, when:” I learned the truth.”


Today, it all seems so long ago and what once seemed so important and worth having a good cry about is no longer of any importance at all. But, the lyrics could have been written yesterday for all those who feel like “ugly ducklings”.