Posts Tagged ‘#life’

In February of last year I had bi-lateral carpel tunnel surgery. I wrote about this in an earlier article. The surgeon slices a wide muscle apart to make room for everything else in your hand that slides underneath. The muscle bands grow back together when you heal.

Some people thought I was crazy for doing both at the same time. I was working and had insurance and could have strung out the surgeries over the majority of a year. I had a couple thoughts on the process. If I strung it out I would not be able to play guitar, keyboards or drums for a long time. I know from past experience it takes a while to get your ‘chops’ back when you have not played your instrument for a while. I also knew I would need up build up strength and flexibility after surgery.

I also did not want to have one ‘bad’ hand while my right hand was healing. I would be unable to do a lot of daily stuff anyway, so I might as well do them at the same time.

I have lived with a number of left-handed people all my life. I often tried to mimic them by trying to use my left hand for simple tasks. It also gave me a different perspective on a lot of seemingly unrelated things. After allowing my hands to heal and stitches removed I thought this would be a good opportunity to ‘train’ both hands during physical therapy exercises. So I treated both hands the same. I did the exercises but I also used both hands as evenly as possible to get dressed, eat, and stay alive while my hands were healing and getting stronger.

So as a little challenge, try using your non-dominant hand for everything you can for one week.

Brush your teeth. Write a letter. Comb your hair. Carry a full cup of tea or coffee. Tie your shoes. As much as possible. I really got much better with my left hand during recovery. I did not try to imitate my right hand movements; that just gave me a headache. Rather I looked at my left hand and back at the task and let my hand decide how to move. Give it a try.

Today is a Nothing Day. I’m gonna do nothing.

 I just realized what a dipshit I am. Don’t know exactly when it began But it certainly wasn’t part of my plan.

I understand how condescending I’ve become. Thinking I’m the only one that gets things done. You can’t be productive if you are having fun.

Step Outside yourself for just five minutes. That’s all it takes to know who you are. Step Outside yourself: I can show you how. You really don’t have to go very far.

I know, ’cause I can hear what you’re thinking. Everyone loves me so why all the cursing? I hate the thought of endless reversing.

Step Outside yourself for just five minutes That’s all it takes to know who you are. Step Outside yourself: I can show you how, You really don’t have to go very far.

Step Outside and pay attention. It’s not like the rest of the world needs your attention. It takes a little effort and not much time. Come on out, the answer is in the rhyme.

Give me a minute And if you                 look at you The way I                  look at me We can Step Outside together.

Step Outside yourself for just five minutes. That’s all it takes to know who you are. Step Outside yourself: I can show you how. You really don’t have to go very far.

 I just realized what a dipshit I am. Don’t know exactly when it began But it certainly wasn’t part of my plan.

(C) MSK 2-5-2019

One night I was struggling with the towel over my head breathing in the incense-like vapors. My older brother David walked by and mentioned that it smelled a lot like marijuana. I was not familiar with his reference at the time. So when I was feeling better he filled me in on what pot was and that it was illegal but lots of people thought it was fun to do.

A few years later I was walking around in the city parks on a hot summer day (as I have a tendency to do). I met friends hanging out on the hill side and stopped to talk. One pulled out a joint and asked me if I wanted some. No personal experience here, but I knew more than years ago so I said sure. Almost immediately I felt comfortable and not scared or worried. After smoking I did not feel ‘buzzed’ or ‘stoned’ or ‘hi’. In fact, I felt almost nothing. Almost.

For almost a year I smoked marijuana and never did get the affects people talked about. At this point you are probably asking, ‘well, then why did you continue to smoke the stuff?’. I am not a doctor and even if I was US laws prevent doctors from testing pot. But when I smoked I felt relaxed. It reduced the panic I felt not only during an asthma attack but also doing things that were known to trigger them. During an attack I quickly calmed down after smoking it and I could lose my concentration on trying to breathe and focus on other things that did not make me panic. I stopped taking the other medications and tests.

After about a year I walked around a small pond at another local park and like a number of other people and animals….. I started walking in the shallow pool to cool down and enjoy the day. As I mentioned, there were a number of people and animals in the water at the time the police drove by, but only four people were pulled out and threatened with being “taken in”. Looking back I should not have been surprised that each of us ‘criminals’ were young and had long hair.

After the police men finally let us go (while others were still walking in the waters) I naturally started chatting with the others. They asked me if I wanted to hang out with them. I did not drive yet so I joined them on a beautiful day. They drove around and one of them mentioned wanting to get stoned. They were older than I was (college kids, I think) and they took really good care of me and checked to make sure I was OK. We stopped by one of their friends houses and bought some hash. I was not familiar with this but basically the same stuff only concentrated. We drove to their house, put on some music and then they got out the pipe.

That was when things really changed. The road got a little bit shorter that day, but the story continues.

“Night” was written in 1980 by a good friend of mine. I have mentioned him before in earlier posts as TR. (Tom Robinson). This is a great song from the past. I loved playing this in our group or as a duo with TR. I love the rhythm and intro motif.

The subject of the lyrics are familiar to me. Driving at night. Getting away. Pondering life and eventual death in the dead of the night are right up my alley!

I recorded the guitar track and wrote the MIDI drum parts to fit the groove and the opening motif. Then I re-recorded the guitar and added bass guitar from computer modules. Then it was time to add vocals and do the mix. I hope you enjoy this gem.

“Night” (C) 1980 Tom Rominson

Night is a ride you just get in a car and go cruisin on. On past the light of the city lights to the cool dark air. Night is a plunge into twinkling depths that can still your mind. Washing your wounds in nature’s rain, her fountains everywhere.

So let the magic continue while you search for an answer within you. And see that swiftly you fly. ‘ ‘Cause we always knew you had to die sometime.

Taking a life is a crime and you know you’re the victim everyday. They gave you a name and a story, not they’re showing you the way. Day is a desert of calendar deadlines, your life an empty phrase. London Bridges falling down, and the rent you got to pay.

But they can’t poison your fantasy in this refuge from insanity. You’ll be here till you kill the lie. And we all know you’re gonna die sometime.

Night is a ride you just get in the car and go cruisin’ on. On past the light of the city lights to the cool dark air. Night is a plunge into twinkling depths that can still your mind. Washing your wounds in nature’s rain, her fountains everywhere.

And when the story is over you will sleep in fields of clover. But your dreams will keep the night-time sky. ‘Cause we always knew you had to die sometime.

“Night” by Tom Robinson

(C) MSK 11-8-2018

Intelligence is not the answer,

Though wisdom certainly is.

I might be waiting for the cows to come home

But I don’t have time for this.

 

It doesn’t take a genius to know,

Facts are the same for everyone.

That doesn’t mean it’s all black and white

Or can be changed with a gun.

 

It’s often a matter of perspective.

And that makes it hard to understand.

Why someone turns grey into black or white

Without experiences of the other man.

 

If you have been supported by faith

Then religion can be your guiding hand.

Survive Jihads, Inquisitions and pedophile priests

You might begin to feel nothing but hate.

 

The police are always there to serve,

And get you home safe at night.

In my neighborhood it ain’t like that at all

So it’s safer to take your chances and run.

 

Intelligence is not the answer,

Though wisdom certainly is.

I might be waiting for the cows to come home

But I don’t have time for this.

 

All the experts seem so smart,

Until you hear from the others.

Sooner or later we have to realize

It’s time to stop killing our brothers.

 

Smart people become rich people,

Their answers bring cash and fame.

The poorest will always be poor; just look at them.

There’s no one else to blame.

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MSK 10-29-2018

Happy as a clam but on the verge of tears.

Thought I would be there but wasted the years.

It’s not just a matter of confronting your fears

It’s looking like a fool in front of your peers.

 

Quiet as a mouse is not sneaking around.

Are you still there if you don’t make a sound?

No breathing.  No movement, ffrrooo__zen: never found.

God Damn Innocence can’t be sold by the pound.

 

So where are we now?

Still in control?

Is there really enough money

To buy your soul?

 

So where are we now?

Still in control somehow?

It seems a little bit funny

That no one knows how.

 

Hungry as a bear brought to the verge of tears

Reflections in ice from thousands of years.

Helpless    Hopeless     Drowning in fears

Watch as the suffering spreads to your peers.

 

So where are they now?

Still in control?

Is there really enough money

To buy their soul?

 

Sometimes circles don’t go ‘round and ‘round.

Often; It’s the colors that make a sound.

Who suffers?     Paid Players,   Cho__zen:      lost not found.

Everything in life can be bought by the pound.

Everything alive can be bought by the pound.

Some of my recent pictures from Spring Grove Cemetery:  Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

MSK 10-29-2018

Wise as an owl

And sly as a fox.

Hungry as a bear

Majestic as a whale

Strong as an ox

Hung like a horse.

Fast as a cheetah

And quiet as a mouse……..

 

What will we be like

When none of them are around?

 

Loyal as a dog

But finicky like a cat.

Soaring like an eagle

And happy as a clam.

Nutty as a squirrel

Still playin’ possum

Silent like a snake

Climb like a goat

And sing like a bird.

 

What will we be like

When none of them are around?

 

Tall as a tree

Bright as a star

Deep as the ocean

And flow like the river.

Whisper like the wind

And sing like a bird.

 

What will we be like?

What will we be like?

What will we be like?

What will we be like ?

When none of them are alive?

© MSK 10-2017

This song has taken a while to finalize the arrangement.  It is only part of the song it started out as.  Diced, sliced, edited and rewritten, I hope this first mix sounds like it belongs!  Sometimes you are guided.

I will play other sections in the future.

Please enjoy “Deep Inside”

Deep Inside me, Deep inside the eye of the storm

Deep Inside you.  Deep Inside the eye of the storm.

Deep Inside me, Deep Inside.

 

Sometimes you are guided

And sometimes you are not.

The road is long; it never ends

No matter what you thought.

 

The place you are standing

Was never meant to be.

Lost when your memories

Created what you see.

 

Pound after pound

Life gets laid upon you hard.

Sound after sound

As the dealer plays his cards.

 

Sometimes you are guided

And sometimes you are not.

The road is long; it never ends

No matter what you thought.

 

Deep Inside me, Deep Inside the eye of the storm

Deep Inside you.  Deep Inside.