My friend Kenny, Red Rock Coffee, MT View CA, 1/29/2011
One of those Gurus songs I’ve never really payed attention to. Damn, what a great song.
I’ve got a lot to learn
And bridges that I still have not burned.
UntiI I find a way
I’ll only end up back where I am today but
I don’t know anything,
Anything at all.
I know that I ain’t smart.
I get tangled up in the strings of my heart
So tight I cannot breathe
I’d cut them if I knew what was good for me but
I don’t know anything,
Anything at all.
I must be the king of fools,
A court jester making rhymes in nursery school,
Like: “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
You can blow my candle, Jack, if you can
teach me how to light my wick ‘cos
I don’t know anything.
One more from the brilliant John Boswell at Symphony of Science.
This one features a chorus by Richard Dawkins.
I fucking love Porcupine Tree.
And silence is another way
Of saying what I wanna say
And lying is another way
Of hoping it will go away
And you were always my mistake…
Play ‘I drive the hearse’ here:
(let me know if you can’t play that, it should pop up with a quicktime music player)
This is completely fabulous.
I found the author of this piece of brilliance – John Boswell at symphonyofscience.com.
God I love morphine. Look how fucked up Mark Sandman is.
(video after the cut)
This is a fabulous cover of BRMC’s ‘Whatever Happen to my Rock and Roll’, on ukulele.
Here’s the original for reference, for those who don’t know.
(props to Syl for the link)
This is a cover of Aimee Man’s Freeway by my friend Kenny.
There’s a longer story about this cover, which you can follow on Kenny’s mySpace blog. In short Aimee held a contest – make a video of yourself covering this song. Ken’s entry is here (make sure you wait for the out takes at the end, they rule), which finished in the top ten in Aimee’s contest.
But I post this here not because of that; I post it here because this is Kenny’s new version, recorded in my mother’s living room. The recording is beautiful, and the idea that music is being made in her house would have made my mother very, very happy.
It’s been a huge help to me to have friends living in Mom’s house; they’re able to take care of a lot of the little tasks (and some of the really large ones) that would have been almost impossible for me to get done; they’re getting a place to live, and I’m getting work done for what feels like a steal. Having music played in that old house is like a gift from the universe.
Thank you Kenny. For the music, and for everything else.
This afternoon I went to a ‘ukulele jam party’ at the Poor House Bistro (a remarkably authentic cajun joint in down town San Jose near the Shark Tank). Friends (Kenny, Heather Courtney, DB Walker played, and then the gang from Ukulele Underground jammed for a couple hours.
It wasn’t that the music was good – it was in every sense a jam party. Sloppy, disorganized, happy, slightly drunken. It wasn’t even that they were playing hawaiian music, ’cause there wasn’t that much of it. I think it was just the sound of ‘ukes playing that made my eyes go hazy.
For a lot of reasons, it’s been a fucked up year. Much of it I’ve been buried under work, to the point where having a life seems like a faraway dream. And of course, there was the growing burden of Mom’s care. With the benefit of hindsight, I can see now that it wasn’t just an increasing level of nuttiness, but in fact was the beginning of a sharp physical decline. But it was one more thing I had to do in a year where I’ve felt like I was drowning in un-done work and responsibility.
There was a brief instant when I felt the pressure lift; when I realized that I could say a peaceful goodbye to my mother and let her go, not burden her and myself with a long, miserable struggle, it was like a weight off my shoulders. But the weird elation was short lived, soon replaced with the realization that work was about to bury me again, and that I’d had no time at all to process what had just happened.
If a crisis can ever have good timing, mom’s did. There was a short lull at work, a month or so where we were able to catch our breath. Mom, for once in her life, timed something perfectly. But the window snapped shut far too quickly for me. Plans to combine vacation with work shut-downs evaporated, and of course, my finances are in disarray, with mom’s death and the maintenance needed on her house far exceeding the liquid cash she had when she died. So even if I had time, going anywhere far, for long, is out of the question.
So today, as I sat drinking a beer and listening to ukuleles play, it all hit me, very very heavily. It felt like someone had dialed gravity up.
Hawaii calls me; not just as a physical place, not just as a vacation destination, but as a mental state. And more than anything else, Hawaiian music gets to me. I hear ukuleles and slide guitar, and I can almost feel hot tropical air on my skin.
It didn’t matter that these kids were playing bob marley songs; the sound of ‘ukes is so much a part of my mental Hawaii that I could almost smell the damp earth of Kauai.
It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been there. August of ’07 in Kauai, and before that, exactly this time of year I was in Kona in ’06. But the last year feels incredibly long, and I feet more tired than I been in five years. For the first time since the day I started work at Apple, I hate going to work every day. My weekends blink by and all I can think of is, when is my next day off.
I really, really need to get the hell out of here. I need to have a long time to do nothing.
I always hate entries like this and usually threaten to delete them. Just nobody tell me to fucking breathe, ok?