“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
I went to the Lez Zeppelin show at the State Theatre a few nights ago expecting to hear some tasty Zeppelin (as I always do when Lez Zep plays) and what I came away with was the revelation that rock and roll is the.single.greatest.thing every invented by humankind.
No, I’m not joking about that. It’s fine if you disagree. You’re still wrong.
Yes, potable water is keen, and indoor plumbing is groovy, and smartphones and the Intarwebs are pretty awesome, but what expresses everything it is to be human with more passion, energy, and honesty than rock and roll? I’ll tell you: nothing.
Rock and roll – real rock and roll created and performed by artists, not schlock created in a masturbatory paint-by-numbers effort to make money (those bands know who they are) – real rock music comes from that place just south of your stomach and a little north of your fun bits and expresses everything about what it is to be human, which I maintain is the highest Continue Reading →
I wasn’t a huge Bowie fan. I mean, I liked his music, but I wasn’t a rhapsodic fan like my friend Tom Finberry. But I admired his daring, his sense of style, his guts, and his not-give-a-shittery. End of story, the man was an artist. And that’s what I appreciated about David Bowie – and what separates him and other artists from inconsequential dreck like the Nickelbacks of the world. (One can never whip Nickelback enough.) Because no matter what your opinion of Bowie’s music – whether or not you loved it, were indifferent to it, or hated it was immaterial – there was no denying the man was an artist with kaleidoscopic visions who was hell-bent on expressing every one of them. There was passion and emotion and energy and humanity exploding out of every pore of the guy. It takes guts and talent and hard work to do what Bowie did. (“Oh, really?” you say. Well, would you walk around in public shirtless with an electrified orange mullet and a giant lightning bolt drawn across your face? Exactly. We are cowards all.) Now compare Bowie to the aforementioned dreck, which simply figured out a formula of sounds that will make money. (I have no idea why people go batshit for that stuff, but they do. “Here, take my Continue Reading →
Today I am a writer. A writer with a day job, but a writer nonetheless.
I’m not one to define a person by their work or their occupation. Never have been. I believe that people are far more complex and multi-faceted…too nuanced and with too many sedimentary layers piled up on the seabed of their soul…to define them by the work they do to pay the rent and put new Nikes on the kids. I certainly never want to be defined by my day job. I’m not a Business Continuity Manager or a Change Management Manager or a network engineer any more than I was a fisherman when I worked on salmon boats in Alaska. Whether or not I was masquerading as a fisherman (or a Business Continuity Manager or a Change Management Manager or a network engineer) is debatable, but commercial fishing was never who I was. It was something I did in order to pull together the money to support the person I did define myself as at that time: a traveler.