It’s been two weeks. Hard to believe.
It’s always been difficult to have a routine that stops abruptly. Anyone whose been reading knows last week, Best Bar Wednesday was cancelled because my son broke his arm. He only returned to school this week and must get through half the summer at summer camp with a cast- no easy matter for a nine year old. The summer has already taken a turn.
I watched the news yesterday morning on the crisis in the Gulf. It made me think of a wedding we’re to attend in Longboat Key (Gulf of Mexico) scheduled for September. As the horrible disaster continues (they say the spill is as large as Florida itself) it made me think of the disappearance of pristine white beaches. Realistically, three months from now, crude oil or clumps of black will end up on the beach. Think about the absorption of that same oil filled water into the atmosphere and instead of having “acid rain” , “oil rain” would contaminate important crops and foods from the South. We already know about the poisons to the sea life, birds and shrimp beds. They said the Gulf Stream could carry it around the tip of Florida and up the East Coast. This is all without the probable hurricanes which could churn it up, absorb it, and drop it all over the region. There’s a lot to think about for the long term.
They compared the handling of Hurricane Katrina to the handling of BP’s Mess and there were more people who thought there hasn’t been enough done for the BP incident. When you think about it, Hurricane Katrina was a catastrophic event which occurred only over the course of days, and we’re now over 50 days into the oil spill and the stuff continues to fill the waters. It’s plain scary. I’m sure anyone who ever thought of off shore drilling has to really re-evaluate their position after this.
I plan on two places today- Marion’s Continental in the Bowery and Peter McManus Cafe at 19th Street. I’d forgotten to send an email to the Best Bar Wednesday crew, which is just as well, I could use a little solitary time to get my thoughts in order. I did some improvised music this past weekend on the porch in a dark setting with MJV which may make a youtube video some time in the future, but that’s up in the air. I visit a beer festival this weekend with my buddy Brian in Pennsylvania. The world is spinning and I want off. I want to rest under a tree like Rip Van Winkle and sleep- wake with long white hair and a beard and greet a new world like a little boy.
What-if??? It’s the primary question we writers ask ourselves. What if I fell over a tree root and found the edge of a treasure chest? What if I was in New York and a thief stuck a gun in my face? What if I went to a bar and a stalker thought he was me? Fears and contemplations play on you, but as a writer, I see it as a benefit. The twists and turns aren’t anything new, but when you use your abilities and channel them constructively- all can benefit. You take anxieties or personal issues and vent them away- keep them from eating YOU away where they can possibly explode into a negatives which could do nothing but hurt you or those around you. Everyone needs a channel, to keep sane and level headed.
The conductor sneezed… what if he had swine flu? How many people could he infect? Think of Typhoid Mary- the woman who worked in food preparation and what she did to a population in Europe. One thought leads to another, and that leads to something else. Occasionally, they sync in unison, then you mix a little feelings in there and you have a soup which tastes absolutely magnificent. The creative process is amazing- the influences, the thoughts, and the scenarios. What if I never started Best Bar Wednesday, would I be better off? I’d certainly find better ways to utilize my money instead of self destruction (lets face it too much drinking does have a negative aspect). The thought leads me to a philosophical quote my funk brother used in our song “E”- “It’s not easy being great- one must destroy then create”- a road to destruction in sorts, stripping ones self- taken to an extreme, brought back, rebuilt, recharged and forward. An enjoyment which became a job, a demand, but it does come to an end.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but the painter Gauguin would spend an entire day painting and erase what he did; time after time building on the stains of his earlier work. A symbolic metamorphosis built layer after layer. A torturous process which probably made him wonder if it was worth it in the end, but only he could tell personally if it was. I think it was, every moment we build on top of another, establishes a foundation on which we grow- BUT without the process, we lose touch with our core beliefs. They get misplaced amongst the every day clutter we live in.
The secret to life is exactly that- bonds wrapped tightly in our soul, our core. Those that lead us to experience the world in a new way; solidify us to be fully aware of our surroundings- the effects of them on us and us on them. Encounters with people that benefit parties on both ends.
Learning is a lifetime activity.