Boo, y'all randomocity

While I enjoy the idea of Halloween, in theory, I don't participate, these days.

Mostly 'cause I don't know any of the kids around here any more, or their parents, so I'm hoping they'll give my place a miss.

Halloween over the past few years has gotten kind of scary anyway, and not in a good way. Trick-or-treaters are getting older---look, if you're old enough to drive, you're too old to be knocking on doors asking for candy. You should be at a party with your friends when you reach that age, unless you're escorting a younger sibling or something.

I'm not kidding--one Halloween a few years ago I stupidly answered the door and was confronted by a group of teenages in costume who demanded money from me. They didn't get any, but still . . . I don't remember that happening when I was a kid.

So, my plan is to stay in, lights out, and listen to music or watch TV. And not answer my door

Have fun, kiddies, and enjoy the day, and leave the grouchy old coot to his life of despair.

I really need to get busy on this new tune. I've found a female vocalist who I think will do it justice, but I had to take my bass to the shop--changing the strings on that puppy turned out to be a little more complicated than I anticipated. I have another bass--a cheap four-string--but I'd rather use my bad-ass six string for this. If possible. And, of course, this song will be all about the bass line.

That's just how it works. Oh, well.

I do apologize . . .

I'm afraid I'm in one of those moods tonight.

It has been one of those days where I realized that every aspect of my life--from the huge, earthshatteringly important, to the trivial, ninety-nine cent stuff--is in the process of warping beyond recognition.

This wouldn't be so bad if these changes were for the better. Or if at least a couple of them were. But they're not. Not to me.

Some of it is inevitable, like Atari getting older. It's getting more and more difficult to get him to get up and move. His arthritis.

Some of it's work. I'm going to be relocating in a few months and I'm dreading that. Plus, my job by its very nature changes constantly.

Mostly it's just something that's been buried deep inside me, a hope for something, that is finally dying. This is hard, as you can imagine, and I'm struggling with it. It was a foolish, forlorn hope, true, and I realize that, but still, it was hope, and one I realize now was false. That's gone, now.

This makes me sad. I went out behind my apartment building just now and smoked a cigarette--the weather right now is cloudy, the wind is howling, and while I was back there I could not see another person. Nor could I hear anybody. It was like I was the last person left on a chilly, desolate world. I realized then that I've been having dreams that reflect that reality almost every night. My subconcious, as usual, was there ahead of the rest of me.

Still, I'll eventually emerge from this funk. Or maybe not. Maybe it's better this way.

Rainy Tuesday randomocity

I may have found a female vocalist to help me with a project.

While the lyrics I have for this one song--and the ideas I have for others--aren't gender-specific, for some reason I hear a woman singing them. Maybe I've found that woman. We'll see. I haven't actually heard her sing yet, though I know she does, a lot. I'm sure she'll be fine--I'm not asking for many vocal pryotechnics or anything..

It's a little scary. I've never worked with anybody on a musical project before and I'm a bit of a control freak. Hopefully I won't turn into a raging asshole and let her put her own unique touches on the little tune we'll be starting out with. If it comes together, that is. Of course, I have to like her voice, and she has to like--and be willing to do--what I"m asking her to do. And as nuts as my life has been lately I don't know when I'm gonna be able to sit down and record this thing. I'm pretty much spent at the end of the day lately.

On another note, I saw The Thing this weekend. I dug it--I give it a B+, but only because it sort of dragged in a couple of places. If you liked John Carpenter's version you'll like this one, too. Of course the critics just don't understand it--I read one review that said it was completely unnecessary. Of course it's completely unnecessary. It's a movie, dumbass.  No movie is necessary. It's just supposed to entertain.Which this one does, I thought.

Speaking of movies, put The Devil Inside on your "got to see" list, mostly cause Talyan has a small part in it. It's not my normal thing--I'm not big on supernatural horror--but this could be kinda interesting.

And speaking of my goddaughter, I know you saw her in the Lifetime movie, Five. You can actually watch the movie from the link. Talyan is in the last segment, "Pearl." Watch for the little girl who says, "That's the best, best part!" That's her. She was awesome. And adorable. The rest of it's pretty good, too. Have a box of tissues handy when you watch it.

For those following the continuing story of Atari, he's about the same. It's getting really difficult for him to get around with the arthritis, and of course the medication is gradually losing it's effectiveness. I wish I could do more for him.

Anyways, that's what's up with me tonight.

Travelers

I can tell from the look in your eyes

you're lost like me, you're scared but you're free

You may think you've found the perfect disguise

But you know we can tell our own kind

You're missing, you don't want to be found

I see it in your face, you're out of place

you can vanish without making a sound

it's like you were never there

But I know that you're tired, like me

I know that your wired, like me

Rid of your ties, so wild and free

I know that your scared, like me . . .

I can tell from the look in your eyes

you're lost like me, you're scared but you're free

You may think you've found the perfect disguise

but you know we can tell our own kind

I know that you're scared, like me . . .

words and music by J Franklin Evans

Just RIP, baby . . .

I just heard legendary Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis has died.

I grew up loving the Raiders. They were outlaws, outcasts, scary, people nobody wanted on their teams. Which means I thought they were a lot like me. Players who were busts everywhere else suddenly seemed to discover who they were when they wound up in Oakland. Maybe it was because of the top notch coaching they had back then--John Madden, among others.

Maybe it was because they realized Oakland was their last stop. If they didn't make it there, they were going to be out of the game.

Or maybe it was because of Al Davis--a bit of an outlaw himself. Eccentric, either a genius or a madman, it was impossible to tell. His own vision of who he was influenced the identity of the team. They became a reflection of him.

This was good, up to a point---he was tough, focused on winning, focused on the team as opposed to the individuals on the team. He would take it a bit too far, sometimes, however, which could become infuriating. His decision to move the Raiders to LA for a while drove me nuts--they were the Oakland Raiders, dammit! He tended to short change his own players, not paying them what they could make if they played somewhere else. He interfered with the football decisions of his coaching staff, sometimes firing coaches for no apparent or for bizarre reasons, or allowing others to stay on even though every other organization in the league would have given them the axe.

But Oakland is the only team that had a frakkin' offensive lineman I used to adore--Jim Otto, number 00, center. I used to watch him on every play. Then there are the other guys--Snake, Mark Van Eegan, Tuz, Sistrunk, Lamonica, Ray Guy, Blanda, Bo frakkin' Jackson, Marcus Allen . . . . other than my Falcons, the only team I would watch on TV regardless--and make plans to stay home so I could do so--was the Raiders.

So, love him or hate him--and I did both--Al Davis is going to be missed. RIP, man. There will never be anyone else like you.

Proud godfather and randomocity

Tonight is opening night for the play Talyan (my goddaughter) is appearing in. That's her, in the above poster. If you're in the LA area you ought to get tickets to see it. Info on the theater can be found here. Judging from the synposis it's an intense experience. I wish I could be there.

Instead I'm planning to be home, napping as much as I can. I feel like I'm coming down with something. Which is just what I need, to get sick, right now.

I need a project. I've been mulling over different ideas but nothing has really sat up and clamoured for my attention. It's beginning to get depressing.

I've never really had this problem before--coming up with something to work on. Usually there's a novel or story or musical idea waiting in the wings for me to find the time to work on it. Over the past month or so, though, nothing. Nada. Not a goddamned thing. My imagination is constipated.

Oh, well. I can be sure that, eventually, something will step forward and demand to be created. Something always does.

Just read an article that says that another recession is a sure thing now, and that it'll be worse than the previous one. Lovely. Something else to look forward to.

Oh, well. I'm just going to dwell on Talyan's big opening tonight, nap as much as I can, and extract whatever pleasure out of life I can find.