Three Jokes

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I couldn't sleep last night so I made up three jokes:


1) I went to the cardiologist yesterday. He said that I should watch my sodium intake, so on the way home I stopped by the Family Dollar store and bought a mirror.

[boom boom - CHISS! . . . crowd roars!]


2) Before I left the cardiologist, they hooked up one of those "Holter heart monitors" to my chest. It's this boxed shaped recording device with all of these wires attached to it. The nurse said that I can't take a shower with it on. I told her that won't be a problem. The problem will be trying to stop myself from ripping off my shirt and running through the food court at the mall screaming "Allah is great! . . . Allah is great!"

[boom boom CHISS! . . . crowd roars!]


3) And speaking of terrorists [some nervous laughter from the crowd] . . . I flew on an airplane for the first time last week [smattering of crowd applause] . . . Thanks. It wasn't that big of a deal. The key is to start way back in the coach section and then run up the aisle flapping your arms as fast as you can.

[boom boom CHISS! . . . crowd roars!]


Thank you! . . . Thank you! . . . No, really - you're too kind! . . . I will be in Dayton through this weekend and the remainder of the life!


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Sequoyah Hawk McMaster

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It makes me very said to say that Sequoyah Hawk McMaster passed away unexpectedly on Thursday at the age of 20 months.

Sequoyah was a perfectly healthy baby in utero, but was born with very serious health problems because of mistakes made at the hospital at the time of his birth. Sequoyah's mother, Rowena, works with my good friend, Sylvia.

Rowena, and Sequoyah's father, Philip, could not have been more loving and adoring parents. You can see it in every picture, and I heard it in every story.

In a very brief time, Sequoyah taught many people how to love. Soon after his birth, the town of Grass Valley, California held a fund raiser for Sequoyah. Nearly the entire town participated in some way.

How sadly beautiful that this little baby boy, who was unable to smile, laugh, or cry, was able to make so many people - ten, fifteen, twenty times his size - feel and give so much. Sequoyah must have taken his "big" name very seriously, and because he did, everyone that knew and embraced his story is a better person.

There has to be a heaven. If not for us, then at least for Sequoyah.

Thank you, you sweet little boy, for showing us the way.

You were a gift and a blessing.

May you be in peace.













. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Sequoyah"

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Origummi

Things have been a little slow lately so I thought that I would take up this "origummi" that I have been hearing about on TV.

It's pretty cool.

I think what I like best about it is you don't throw anything away so it's like easy on the environment and stuff. If you make something that sucks you just eat it.

You should check it out if you get a chance.

(Starting to work on an origummi idea. I like to refer to this part as "the creative process")


(Beginning to formulate a "proto-type." This is the "nuts & bolts" of the process. As you can tell by my furrowed brow, it typically takes the most time and involves the most work)


(This is the actual "origumming" process. This is where vision starts to become reality. Although this is my favorite step, it is also the most intense and tedious, and requires complete concentration. I am frequently quite fatigued after this process)


. . . . . (The final product. This is what makes it all worthwhile!)

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Back in the day . . .

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"andy . . . remember when your dad used to dress like a baby and hang out with bootsy collins?"
(kurt moorman)



[photo of a photo by kurt moorman]
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A Very Sweet Valentine's Day Story

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One of my son Andy's best friends at the bank where he works is a fellow teller, a gay guy who is also named Andrew. Andy said that Andrew is absolutely hilarious and they have a blast working together.

Andy wasn't working this morning, but he got a call from Andrew who was at the bank. It seems that Andrew had forgotten that it was Valentine's Day and he didn't get a gift for his sweetie, Christopher. Andrew asked Andy if he would take a dozen roses to Christopher at work and sing "You Are My Sunshine" to him (Andrew knows that Andy is a singer and loves his CDs).

Andy, being Andy, said "Absolutely!" and so he did. He picked up the flowers, delivered them to Christopher, and sang "You Are My Sunshine" to him. :-)

I guess Christopher works in a fairly open office at the University of Dayton, so there were lots of folks there to enjoy Andy's performance. Apparently, one petite and very cute gal - who Andy said wore a great big smile throughout his entire performance - gave him her phone number before he left.

I suppose that proves once and for all: what goes round, comes round . . . and what makes the world go round, is in fact, love. :-)

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"Lights" A New Song

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This is a "whittled down version" of my son Andy's new song "Lights" and Andy's new lead guitarist Tyler.

I find this melody - and Tyler's playing - to be a thing of beauty.

And there's a boatload more where this came from. That's right folks . . . the hits just keep on comin'.

:-)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzUxX6SkDHQ

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"There's a hole in Daddy's arm where all the money goes"

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The Department of Defense is reporting that in 2010, 462 soldiers died in combat and 468 soldiers committed suicide (this does not include reservists statistics). This is the second straight year that suicides have exceeded combat deaths.

How sad and painfully ironic that these statistics will probably be ignored when Congress attempts to slash the budget deficit. A budget deficit that was largely created by unnecessary wars that almost certainly contributed greatly to the mental issues, and subsequent suicides, of these soldiers.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TG5YKDyRIA


Sam Stone
(J. Prine)

Sam Stone came home,
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knee.
But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back.

Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
Mmm....

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And Sammy took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold rolled through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes

(Repeat Chorus)

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
But life had lost its fun
And there was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the G, I. Bill
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill

(Repeat Chorus)


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War Stuff

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Please Welcome Country #53 To The "Jumbostatz League Of Musical Nations!"

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We here at Jumbostatz Inc (me and my cat) are very happy to welcome our 53rd country into the Jumbostatz League Of Musical Nations. That's right folks! Let's hear it for our newest member [insert drum roll here] . . . Hong Kong!

This afternoon at 12:06 PM, Mr. Winston Liu purchased the CD soundtrack to the movie "Toys" from the good folks here at Jumbostatz Inc., making Hong Kong our 53rd nation served.

"Jumbostatz . . . bringing *all* of the music to *all* of the people since August 2001! . . . 53 nations and still counting"

So without further adieu, I would like to ask Siouxie Sioux and her band of Banshees to take us on home. Siouxsie?! Whatdya say?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgE41B3JQF8


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It Was Nice Talking To You, Dad

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Hey - I think that I just had a brief, but very enjoyable chat, with the spirit of my late father (please see my previous post regarding the 20th anniversary of his death).

I was waiting in line at Books & Co. and I noticed a commemorative magazine on display titled "Ronald Reagan at 100." It featured a 1970ish photo of a very dapper looking Reagan on the cover.

Some old guy behind me in line obviously noticed the magazine as well because he very dryly and bluntly said to nobody in particular: "Reagan at 100? I thought he was dead." The other two folks in line fidgeted a bit, but I cracked up.

I turned to the guy and deadpanned: "Yeah - he's looking pretty good for 100, isn't he?" The guy gave me a big smile and said "I thought we were supposed to stop counting when we die." I said "Not if you're famous. They just keep counting." Without missing a beat this guy says: "Well, thank God I'm not famous because I never want to be 100-years-old." :-)

It was odd because it wasn't until I headed down the road to the post office that I suddenly realized: "Damn. That was probably the exact conversation my dad and I would have had if we had been standing in line together at the book store."

Those kinds of casual and fleeting occurrences give me faith. Faith in what, I don't know - but faith nonetheless.

It was nice talking to you, dad.





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20 Years Ago Today

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Monday will be the 20th anniversary of my father's death.

By day, he would kick anyone and everyone's ass in golf.

By night, he would summon the Gods and soothe the savage beast with his violin.

Throw in a deadly sense of humor that was drier than the Sahara - and a wit that re-defined "quick" - and you begin to get a picture of my father, John C. Smith.




January 31, 1991


I speak directly into your ear
and your head twitches, then pivots,
your mouth gaping as if surprised.
But there are no surprises here.

You are childlike and helpless
so I kiss you. Your cheek is whiskered
and warm, your skin a thin casing
barely holding the heat and bones
that want so badly to leave.

As you focus above me, staring
at something I cannot yet see,
I tell you exactly what I am doing.
More for my benefit than yours.
To excuse this invasion of privacy.

Death seems a formality now.
It is the dying that I'll remember.

With each full breath
you move further away.










Dad: How's that pig gonna smell if you cut his nose off?
Mom: John . . . not again.
Dad: Terrible.

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Today's Fortune Cookie

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I don't know how, but my Chinese brothers and sisters sure have got me figured out.




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The United States of America

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"This is America, where a white Catholic male Republican judge was murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year-old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean-American combat surgeon, all eulogized by our African American President." (Mark Shields, PBS)


And the word on the street - the one that runs north-south, from my head to my heart - tells me that when the news of the shooting flashed on the TV screen above the jukebox at O'Leary's Pizza Emporium And More in Chinatown, NYC cabbie and art student, Abdul Sahib, his wife, and their daughter, set down their gyros, joined hands, and said a prayer for the victims and families of Tucson.

It's true.

If you believe it.



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Have You Ever Wondered What Love And Devotion Look Like?

.17 Jan 2011 02:43 pm

"A dog named Leao, sits for a second consecutive day, next to the grave of her owner, Cristina Maria Cesario Santana, who died in this week's catastrophic landslides in Brazil, at the cemetery in Teresopolis, near Rio de Janiero, on January 15, 2011."

[By Vanderlei Almeida/AFP/Getty]

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BIG in Holland!

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"Big in Japan" is so yesterday. The true test of a 21st century band is whether they are big in Holland:

http://www.altcountry.nl/blog/2011/01/andrew-and-the-pretty-punchers/


Here is a fairly rough translation of the above review:


"Andrew and the Pretty Punchers come from Dayton, Ohio, a city with a certain reputation in the field of garage rock. "No Longer A Lover" is a fairly busy blade with only from time to time a rest point, such as the ghostly stalk guitar in as a result, to Triffids the inclined "Hide & Seek (For Her)."

Garage rock with soul music is there in "Timewaster." Much of the numbers of Andrew Smith (sing, guitar) have themselves defined as hectic new wave. But in "Shitty Teeth" the guitar bring zomaar what southern rock in that English striking as sound.

The number most particular stands on the end of this short CD. "Cloudberries" start as soundscape as if a strange connection is achieved between a dark bunch full bird sounds and the universe where strange votes sound. It has not only the environment of Bonnie `Prince' Billy, it also dovetails a group such as Deer Tick. The open acoustic agreements, the drums, slow building to a climax with guitar, these are the most beautiful number of No Longer A Lover. Gregory Saluke (sing, guitar) wrote it with Andrew.

The group exists further from lead gitarist Kevin, bass player Joshua, and drummer Schmike. Available at CD Baby."


I was thinking while reading the very nice review: if I was living in Holland right now I would probably be listening to Andrew and the Pretty Punchers, too. Wooden shoe?

Heh-heh . . . ol' Kev just made a funny.


Congratulations to Andrew and the Pretty Punchers!

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Peace On Earth

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This Land Is Your Land

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaI5IRuS2aE


This Land Is Your Land
(Woody Guthrie)

This land is your land
This land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and Me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.

I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
And all around me a voice was sounding:
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

Christina Taylor-Green

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Pictured above is Christina Taylor-Green. She was the 9-year-old girl who was murdered at the Safeway grocery store on Saturday.

Christina was born on September 11, 2001 - the same day as the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

According to the Arizona Daily Star, Christina was the granddaughter of former Philadelphia Phillies manager Dallas Green. The paper also wrote this about Christina:

• She was already a good speaker, her father said, Green recently was elec...ted to the student council at her elementary school.

• Green told her parents she wanted to attend Penn State and make a career helping those less fortunate.

• She loved animals and dancing — especially ballet — along with hip-hop and jazz music.

• She was athletic, too. Green liked to go swimming with her 11-year-old brother, also named Dallas. She also was the only girl on her Little League baseball team. She played second base.

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Murder

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Six people were not "killed" at a grocery store in Arizona today.

They were murdered.

There is a huge and very distinct difference.

People are "killed" in accidents.

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"When I think of the road we're traveling on, I wonder what's gone wrong, I can't help it, I wonder what's gone wrong"

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. . . . . . . . . . . Congresswoman Gabrielle "Gabby" Giffords


Federal Judge John Roll, murdered in a grocery store, rest in peace.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE3kKUEY5WU


American Tune
(Paul Simon)

Many's the time I've been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I've often felt forsaken
And certainly misused
Oh, but I'm all right, I'm all right
I'm just weary to my bones
Still, you don't expect to be
Bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home

And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
or driven to its knees
but it's all right, it's all right
for we lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the
road we're traveling on
I wonder what's gone wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what's gone wrong

And I dreamed I was dying
I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly
And looking back down at me
Smiled reassuringly
And I dreamed I was flying
And high up above my eyes could clearly see
The Statue of Liberty
Sailing away to sea
And I dreamed I was crying

We come on the ship they call the Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon
We come in the age's most uncertain hours
and sing an American tune
Oh, and it's alright, it's all right, it's all right
You can't be forever blessed
Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day
And I'm trying to get some rest
That's all I'm trying to get some rest.

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Mom

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My mother passed away early New Year's Day nine years ago.

I am convinced that she did not die in the wee hours of morning because she wanted to ring in the New Year, but rather because she wanted General Motors to have to cut her one more monthly pension check her annual cost of living increase.

This was Mom's favorite song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57tK6aQS_H0







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