* 1975

paul and joe and little face lived on the same block
we lived around the corner
my brother and i would tell our parents we were going to hang out in paul’s garage
“what do you do over there?” my mom would ask
“spit and swear” we would answer
paul was always working on a 1950s truck, trying to get it running. there were so many things wrong with it no one ever expected him to succeed
the rest of us just messed around. shot things with a bb gun. melted things with a propane torch.

paul’s wasn’t like a normal house where there was always the possibility of a parent walking out and disapproving of something you were doing.
his parents never came out of the house, and we never went in
they were in there, but we rarely saw them. they were like shadowy mythic figures

paul’s garage was where i would later keep the motorcycle my parents told me i couldn’t buy. where i burnt my hand dropping a lit match into a half empty gas can. where joe fixed my triumph spitfire after he crashed it into a tree.

* written june 1, 2009

i was strict with hugo and i feel bad
i didn’t read him a story because he didn’t get his pajamas on fast enough.
he was tired. i was grumpy
i said i didn’t want to be mean to him
he didn’t understand: “grown-ups always say that and it doesn’t make any sense. then why don’t you read me a story?”
i tried to explain; “if you have a pet and you really love it and it does something it’s not supposed to do you have to say ‘bad dog’”
it seemed like that made some sense to him
then i said that i can’t have to tell him 3 or 4 times to do something
he interrupted; “why do you have to say it again!? i know!”
then he started crying a little bit
i said i was sorry
i said i would sit with him while he fell asleep
i asked if he wanted me to do that, or go
he said “go”
so i went

* 1981

i took a year off from college between my sophomore and junior years
i hadn’t declared a major and had no real direction toward one
i joined a band called euphoria. they had an agent and gigs that paid well.
mostly high school dances playing whatever songs high school kids wanted to hear.
at first it held my interest because the other musicians were good
then it didn’t. i stopped rehearsing and my playing suffered
so they fired me
i couldn’t blame them, but i was still surprised and hurt when i got the call
it was the keyboard player
he did say: “as a person you’re a ten”
that was nice

* 1974

junior high – math class – terri dorris passed me a note that said ‘lori likes you’.
lori was in the class, sitting a few rows back. she and terri were best friends.
i didn’t respond. didn’t look over to terri or back at lori. i was surprised and excited, but completely at a loss for what to do.

that friday was the dance. the rest of the week i did not acknowledge the note – did not change my behavior in any way.

friday night in the gym i stuck with my usual group of friends. lori and terri scurried around most of the night – at dances the girls always seemed to be going back and forth to the bathroom
lori was wearing a floor length dress. we crossed paths a couple times.
there were expectant glances from both of them: “well, are you going to do something?”. i never did

all i had to do was ask her to dance. then hold her hand. then she would be my girlfriend. it was all set up.
but i was somehow frozen. unable to act. say hi. smile. anything
i would have been so happy to hold her while we slow danced. maybe get a goodnight kiss

at the end of the dance terri came up to me and said: “lori doesn’t like you anymore”, then walked away. that was it. i missed my chance.

the next week at school lori was holding hands with chris winger

* 2010

rehearsing one of my songs; ‘the sun will rise’. i was still figuring out the lyrics for the transition to the chorus

there were two people i was thinking about when i wrote this. seeing they were in a lot of pain. wishing i could help them in some way

* 1985. journal excerpt: true west european tour

arrIved in holland 3 days ago. ferry ride was long. played black jack in the bar
the rooms were tiny; approx 6.5′ x 6.5′. each had three bunks

bought gloves and sox at a truck stop. richard and kevin bought switchblades.
eating lunch in a mall in appledorn. a pastry covered with potato gravy, chicken and mushrooms.

first gig went well. approximatley 200 folks. the club had a hashish den

mickey didn’t want to exchange currency for kroner when we were in germany, so we had to sit in a parking lot for three hours waiting for the bureau to open. he is obsessed with getting the best rate

* July 8, 1988. Friday @ 1:00 AM or so

having a night cap at Paul’s on 11th street
saw sandra bernhard at the orpheum; ‘without you i’m nothing’

frankenstein is on the TV above the bar
he just carried the little girl into the lake. you don’t see him drown her, but you know that’s what happens
‘are you lonesome tonight’ is playing on the juke box

the screen just went fuzz. my mind is fuzz. lately i’ve just wanted to sleep and hide from everything. i need to clear my head and focus my energy. it’s dispersing into nothingness

now frankenstein is in the windmill and michael jackson is singing ‘the way you make me feel’

two guys at the end of the bar; a big guy smoking mores and a regular guy who hasn’t gotten more than an ‘uh-huh’ in in the last hour.
the regular guy just ordered another vodka and cranberry juice. he’s had a lot already

now the windmill is burning

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* bits & pieces, 1989

for years i recorded song ideas on cassette tapes
any scrap of a melody or interesting chord progression
i kept the tapes in a box, and over time accumulated a hundred or so,
always thinking i’d go through them and maybe find some nuggets worth developing
once in a while i’d put the box in my car and listen to a random tape while driving

the recordings were sloppy; the guitar almost always out of tune, my voice fumbling for the right note, lyrics made up as i went
listening to them was not enjoyable
there were lots of variations of ideas
there were lots of bad ideas
there were lots of variations on the bad ideas

so when i discovered, after our last move, that the box was gone i was kind of relieved. even if i lost some promising song bits, i no longer had to feel like i should listen to every last tape, just in case

i still have a few tapes that were in drawers or cabinets and didn’t disappear with the others. a few is plenty

* 1994

it was the morning of my birthday. erica had spent the night
i got up and went to the bathroom
walking back to bed i decided i was going to propose
immediately my heart started pounding
we’d been together for five years but it still felt impulsive
i laid down next to her and said: “for my birthday i want you to be my wife”
we both cried
later she pointed out that that was not a question, therefore i hadn’t given her the option of saying no

when i got to work i went into joanne’s office and collapsed in a chair
“what happened to you?”, she asked, “you look like shit”
i was feeling a bit lightheaded, but i had no idea it was so obvious
i didn’t tell her i had just proposed

i never told my wife that last part of the story

* 2000

this was either the end result of a failed negotiation, or some sort of a bribe.
or, if you look at it another way – she’s eating and getting clean at the same time –  it’s an excellent example of parental ingenuity