Where were you when you found out the “King of Pop” died?  The sad news reached my telephone as I was traveling south on route 5, just outside of Redding, California.  I immediately tuned my car stereo to the Fox News station to get all of the details and remember the life of the legend.  Whatever happened to honoring the deceased?

Michael Jackson is irreplaceable.  He was born original and equipped with enough soul to fill the Apollo. Nature vs. Nurture? His abilities crossed cultural lines and uncrossed racial knots.  You can not deny the talent of Michael Jackson.  I will miss him very much and I thank him for all that he has done with his fifty years on this planet.  A true spiritual figure in my eyes, as well as a victim of the spin.

As I watched Michael Jackson’s career from a distance, it truly saddened me to watch the media melt this man down article after article.  What is it about this world that forces us to hate on the successful and the gifted?  Jealousy is a disease.  And I must say, unfortunately this disease is of epidemic proportions.  Even after death Michael Jackson remains criticized and scrutinized.  The media almost ignores his musical achievements and instead dwells on his child molestation charges from ten plus years ago.

As I continued on down route five, I felt helpless listening to the radio show.  Shephard Smith, the shows host, seemed to ignore the death of the icon and continued bullying him, even in death.   He conducted interview after interview with some of Michael Jackson’s closest friends and utilized prying tactics in an attempt to get friends to suggest foul play.  I felt like I was in the schoolyard watching a lopsided fight and no one was stepping in to break it up.  It was embarrasing.  Rev. Al Sharpton gave an amazing speech and said, “may history be kinder to Michael Jackson than the contemporary media was.” Halleluiah Mr. Sharpton.  In the words of Lowell George of Littlefeat, “Time Loves A Hero.”

I turned off the radio and continued driving south, bound for San Francisco.  I had a great time in Portland catching up with my Brother.  By the way we ended the billiards battle in a 7-7 tie and we look forward to the rubber match.  I played three shows in Portland and feel like I gained some good experience.  I learned to deal with both sound and booking issues, so the trip was certainly worth it from that stand point.

I am writing to you now from a coffee shop on Fillmore Street in San Francisco called “The Grove”.  I just looked up from my computer and randomly spotted my old college friend Jarrett Park in the corner of the shop.  We both looked at each other and simultaneously said, “What in the hell are you doing here?”  A random, yet wonderful encounter.  Last night I went to a venue on Market Street called Cafe Du Nord to watch a songwriter named A.A. Bondy perform.  He was fantastic.  I spoke with him before the show.  He was very down to earth and just seemed like a cool guy.  We talked about photography.  He said he doesn’t like taking pictures of people anymore, now he just takes pictures of garbage, birds, and power lines.  He puts on a great show.  If you ever get a chance to see him live, take it. He is dark.  He is emotional.  Watching him perform is like witnessing a man at war.  He feels it.  He lets the music take the lead and you can tell that he has always lived his life with his music as his chaperone.

I am playing tonight at Plough and Stars on Clement Street.  I am looking forward to playing my songs in San Fran.  The last time I played out here I had a great crowd of listeners.  So hopefully they come back to hear some of the latest tunes.

I am off to do some thrift store shopping.  I love old clothes and hats, especially when they are dirt cheap.

Well, my first Portland gig experience was not a good one at all.  I arrived at Muddy Waters Coffeehouse at 7:00pm to check out the scene and figure out if I needed my own sound or not.  It is the most poorly run shop I have ever seen.  They had quadruple booked their stage.  Not double booked, or even triple.  After the person in charge of booking explained to me the mishap she said, “I am very sorry but if you stick around we would love to have you play from 9:30 to 10:00.”  So I bought another coffee and decided to wait it out, I was really looking forward to playing.  Well long story short, they ran out of time and told me, at 9:45pm, that they couldn’t fit me in, even after I waited around that entire time.  Extremely poor business.  The problem with it all is that I had invited quite a few people to come and watch  me play so it makes me look like the bad guy.  Not to mention the time and money I put into promo for the event.  So I left the dump as soon as I could.  My Brother Ryan, who was almost more upset about them not letting me play than I was, decided to call a friend of his named Stewart that owns a wine bar called Wine Down.  He asked if I could just set up and play for about an hour and Stewart said, “absolutely, we would love to have him.”  So all of us went over to Wine Down and I set up shop.  It was fun just to play.  The purpose of this entire trip is to play as much music in as many places as possible.  So in accordance with the plan, I played the set with full intensity.  I played for about seven people that sat around the bar.  Before I left Syracuse, a great friend of mine, Colin Aberdeen gave me some words of wisdom that I will take to the grave with me.  Colin is an unbelievable musician, songwriter, performer, etc…He’s got it all, the total package.  I look up to him very much. Colin has played his music all over the world and in all different kinds of places.  When I asked him what it is like to play in front of a thousand people one night and then 10 the next he said, “You can’t worry about who’s not there.  All you can do is play for who is.”  I have certainly played a good amount of shows for a very small amount of people, but I will always remember the advice that Colin gave me.

I sold one CD and made seven new friends.  Like the statement goes…when you get lemons, make lemonade.

Think deeply, is your cart ahead of your horse?

Relying on the opinion of an unreliable source?

Slow your speed.

Lose your greed.

And give it all back to the miners that dig you

Sleep sweetly, for it is you that keeps me swift.

Runnin’ like a river that has just run off a cliff.

Enough is enough.

Free all your stuff.

And give it all back to the miners that dig you.

This is the rhyme of the miner

Set to the time of a timer

Hammered and hit

Standing to sit

The bedrocks most famous designer

I finally made it to Portland after spending three and a half hours in a traffic jam on interstate 84 west,  just one hour from downtown.  A hay truck caught on fire in the middle of a one lane workzone about three miles ahead of us, creating a 20 mile long tailgate party.   This was not your normal, run of the mill, traffic jam.  As we added our vehicle to the line of stranded travelers, I noticed up ahead that everyone was out of their cars.  Amazingly, no one seemed bummed out to be stuck in traffic, it was as if everyone had embraced the fact that they were stuck and they weren’t going to let this ruin their day.  Everyone parked their vehicles, opened their tailgates, started smoking, drinking coffee, making snadwiches, and chatting it up with fellow travellers.  It was very strange to see this pre-concert like atmosphere on a two lane highway overlooking the Hood River.  I witnessed a pack of five skate boarders cruising down the shoulder attempting to grind the guard rail.  I also noticed a football game was taking place about a half a mile up the road.  There were people throwing frisbees, walking dogs, and of course taking turns urinating in the woods.  I decided to pull out a lawn chair and work on a crossword puzzle for a bit.    The shoulder of the highway looked like a boardwalk by the beach filled with people moving in both direction.  The nosey people, of course, were heading up to check out the fire. Everyone seemed to notice my license plates and would make a New York comment as they walked past me. Comments like;  “Yankess or Mets?!” or “You must be used to traffic like this.  It looks like Manhattan during rush hour!” or “I have family on Long Island”.  All of these comments made me really think.  It is incredible when people see the name New York, they never ever seem to consider the fact that there is a whole bunch of land that sits above Manhattan.  They immediately assume you are from “The City”.  It is funny, even when you say “no, I am not from the city, I am from Upstate New York.”  They always seem to respond by saying, “oh okay…you mean like Westchester County?”  I usually surrender to saying yes, just to move forward with the conversation, and skip through the attempt to zero in on a persons birth place.  As frustrating as it is to explain that I am not from “The City”, I must admit that I am guilty of comitting this social crime from time to time.  I just recently met someone from Ireland the other day.  After she explained where she was from, I said something that felt right at the time, but I immediately regretted the statement as soon as it left my tongue.  I said, “Oh really, I just got back from a trip to Amsterdam.”  That is equivalent to someone learning that I am from New York and saying something like, “Oh really, that’s cool I just got back from a trip to British Columbia.”  I am an idiot sometimes.

I have checked into the Ryan Powell Hotel for a four night stay, and I have to be honest with you, it feels good to actually be in a location for more than a night.  It feels steady for a change.  Life is good.  I have really enjoyed this traveling stuff, especially when I am heading towards a family members house.  I am a family man.  I love my family with everything I have.  It is hard for me to witness some of my friends grow apart from their families.  I don’t understand how that is possible to be honest.  Ever since I can remember I have been surrounded by family and the importance of those relationships has been branded in my heart.  I am looking foward to doing some fishing out here with Ryan and beating him on his own pool table!  I will be sure to update you on my billiards record for the week.

Do me a favor tonight or tomorrow, reach out to a family member that you haven’t talked to in a while.  It feels good and right.  It fills your heart knowing that you made the effort to reconnect and it will show your relative that you really care for them.  Hey, it just may make the relative you reached out to, reach out to another family member.  Think about it, love spreads like wildfire. If you own a house, you always take care of your foundation first.  If the foundation starts to crack, the amazing plasma TV you have hung above the fancy mantle won’t be worth a damn when it is lying in a pile of rubble.  Take care of your family first, they are your foundation.  The first step to becoming whole is understanding who made you step in the first place, family is everything, trust me.