rebirth after death

Last spring after my paternal grandparents died, my co-workers took a collection amongst themselves and gave me a gift card to a local nursery. I bought four fruit trees - one for each grandparent, 3 of whom are were now dead. After some time, it was clear that the apple trees had some kind of blight. (below)

The peach trees were also suffering, (above) though not as bad.

I didn't know if any of them would survive.

Meanwhile, in fall, I set out bulbs that me and those same co-workers "procured" from the University gardner.

This spring is shaping up to be quite nice here at The Lodge. :-)

Spring

I started my day walking into work with my grandmother.

Every spring morning that is sunny and crisp with patches of dew kissed daffodils here and there, is a morning I get to walk with my grandmother. It may only be as long as it takes me to walk from the car to the office but, in that time, I'm a child again and we outside in her garden or walking to town or hanging out laundry or some other chore. But always I am by her side again and we are enjoying the smell of wet new grass.

I ended the day with my grandfather, her husband. I've never filled my mower's gas tank or smelled gas anywhere else that I didn't think of him. So, as I mowed my spring crop of wild onions, he sat under the pine tree in a plastic lawn chair whittling his cedar stick and spitting tobacco juice to his left. Every once in a while I caught him smiling at me, especially as I mowed around the peach tree I planted in his honor last year.

She will be 98 in September 2010. He died in 1998 when he was 88. I couldn't have asked for a better day.

Watz in the name "Reform"?

My first problem with the Health Care Reform bill is that it needs to say health *Insurance* reform, not health *care* reform. I don't think there's anything wrong with our "care". Doctors are not incompetent but, to call it health "care" implies that they are. They are not the problem. The problem as far as I can tell lies with insurance companies. But, of course, they can't call it what it really is because the lobbyists are SO powerful - and that's not party specific. That is a systemic political illness.

The other problem I have with the bill (admittedly not knowing everything that's in it), is this decades old practice of throwing in crap in a bill that has nothing to do with the over-arching issue. This state wants this, and that state wants that; they throw it all in together and get crap passed that, ordinarily, would never see the light of day. But again - this is not a party specific problem, or even bill specific - it is a politically systemic illness and, as I said, nothing new.

All this to say, I don't disagree with folks who are not for this bill. But where I see us going down the wrong road is when we start saying things like Nancy Pelosi is the anti-Christ. Granted, she ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she's certainly no worse than G.W. Bush - the President who started an unjustified war that has now lasted longer than WWII and was, in no small way, the first nail in our economic coffin. We had a financial surplus up to that point.

However, specific politicians alone are not the fault; after all, no one person, not even the president, has such far-reaching power as to pull a trigger by themselves.

I've come to realize that our so-called *democratic* political system is severely broken and THAT is the real problem we ought to be fighting to fix. Unfortunately, we're all so caught up in 24-hr sound bytes (even the smartest among us) that we're virtually blind to what's really happening: That being that we have essentially become a two-party system with backroom deals that the American public only hear about if the *media* deems it so. This manner of behavior simply doesn't work and it started long before Obama or Bush or even Clinton. We've now allowed our representatives to create a division that, if we're not careful, could rival that of the Civil War. I'm totally serious about that: we are coming very close to such a precipice.

There are extremists in both camps but, at the end of the day, I believe the majority of the population is in the middle and unfairly represented. We, as a nation, are able to discuss issues in a civilized manner and come to some agreement where everyone wins for the most part. Yet, civility no longer sells magazines or boosts ratings. Ya gotta think that Patrick Kennedy was on to something last week when he railed against the media for their lack of real news coverage. If anyone is the anti-Christ in this country, it's them.

Who cares who Tiger Woods slept with? Who cares if Eric Massa groped his employees? Who cares what party is the majority this season? I care about whether my parents get the health care they need. I care if my military friends are asked to fight a war that gets us no where. I care if my representative is dishonest with what I have charged him/her to do on my behalf. I don't give a shit what they do in their bedroom and I don't care what they had for lunch. I care how we keep this country alive and thriving.

Voting matters. I say we create a law wherein, if our collective elected bodies can't do anything more than fight, say no, make deals in the backroom, or pull a filibuster or some other underhanded charade, we send the whole lot packing and elect a new batch that will govern on the up and up. In that same reform we allow the American people to VOTE on the tough issues; like health "insurance" reform. That way there's no party finger pointing - we decide where we're going.

Don't Fence Me In

So sings my sweet pal Callie Cardamon on her latest release, Easy Street. The only problem...I just can't see Callie on a horse. But, then, I can't ride either so, what do I know?

Speaking in Tongues

I had such an interesting interview with artist Marjorie Guyon yesterday. She and her beautiful agent, Alaina Simone, talked about her latest project Nation of Nations. In that conversation I was reminded that artists think deeply, considerately, passionately.

I've been surrounded by academics so long that their insistence to be right, without doubt, unequivocally perfect, that it crushes the possibilities of what might be, what could be - perception. It's all about perception. Even the sciences - it's all perception, isn't it? Today it's this rule, but tomorrow some other genius will find something better, truer - another perception is born.

Meanwhile....art is one person's perception. It just is what it is. You're not forced to study it or accept it as truth, you're just asked to look and think.

I'm not happy in academics. I miss the freedom of art.

RCC Continued

I love Facebook (when the developers haven't screwed it completely). I created a note yesterday with all the band name suggestions we'd gotten - 149 of 'em - with the 150th quickly following the post. Some are really, really good. Some are just funny. Some are sick (yet somehow funny, but that's just me). But the one that always sticks out is Red Couch Conspiracy, as I mentioned yesterday. Dan is at peace with it - Pete hasn't chimed in because he's "winter camping" right now (I don't know if that's code for -"I'm freaking out so, I've gone to sleep in a tent in the UP in the dead of winter and hope I don't wake up"). Whatever....

In the meantime, Stacy Yelton, who came up with the name RCC, sent along this very interesting article on how all the good band names are taken. Fortunately, Googling RCC only turns up my blog! Allmusic.com doesn't turn up anything either, though there are lots of conspiracies out there.

So, there's this new thing called reverbnation (thanks to Matt Burke for turning me on to it) and I've created a Red Couch Conspiracy profile there. It's sparse yet but I may throw together some snippets of of our songs just so you can get a sense of where we're going.

In the meantime, here's the note I created on facebook with all the names my friends have come up with. Enjoy!

Pool
Take That Charlie
Slap Charlie
Up In Ya
Bend Over Charlie
Chainsaw Critters
Face Velocity
Screaming Zucchinis
Portable Squirrel
Potable Squirrel
6 Minute Abs
Once in a Bleu Moon
Once with Bleu Cheese
Terry, Tereski, and Tood
The Electric Intestine
Bleu Greene
Kopana Terry and the Fuzzy Sphincters
Kopana Terry and the Killer Titties
Kopana Terry and Kapow! Tings!
Poppy Twang and the Bluebirds
kopana terry and the pool boys
super blue moon pool
The Wilsqueezblues
squeezbluesco
Kopana Terry and the Killer Time
Kopana Terry's Killer Time
Killer Ko and the Daydreams
Pool Hall
Pool Haul the concrete Pool
the cement pool
the Pool Cues
Pool Time
Skip skool for the pool
Skip Sckool and the Pools
Pool of Drool
What Would Ko Doo the Great Danes
pool-rific
Once With Bleu Cheese Dressing
Once With Roquefort
Once With Gorgenzola
Koko and the Puffs
Koping skills & the Trauma
Spill in isle 3
Deere John and the BushHogs
Red Couch Conspiracy
watch me play these instruments
Trout Grinders
bordello botox
Crouching Squirrel, Chainsaw Charlie
Witchita Wheat
It's my favorite sofa
Letters To Lennon
kitten vortex
Pussy Magnet
Red Pussy Magnet
Dang! That's all I gotta say about that
RPM
Dewey Decimal System
East Coast Seismic Warning
Flow Charts
Power Point Presentations
Kopana's Man Band
AnaPok
Aunt Pannies Mannies
Aunt Mannies Panties
koping skills and the lorazepams
Sleepless
lack of sleep
Dreamy Ko and the Sleepers
Hot Flash and The Night Sweats
Kick-Ass Birthday
I'm Graying Here
Here Comes the Gray
Not today Gray Grays Labotomy
That Guys' Band
Space Anatomy
Shell of a Man
Michelle and Man Shells
That Guy and Ko
Ko Guy Ko
Ko Man Ko
Bang Sum Guy
Any Given Holiday
Koko Kollective
the kopa kopanas
kopana blue
The KoKo Kochos
Ass Kickin Ko's
Ass Kickin Mo's
Ko-a-Kolas
Gravel Drop Travellers
Stone's Throw Caravan
stonecipher road/trail/lane
Kopana Stone Shakers
Kopanana and the Mandrills
Blue Ko and the Crew
Blue Ko and the Hue Crew
Bluestone Road
De Cypher
Blue De Cypher
Ko-Band-Ah
Common thread
Cut and Paste
Off Base
Word Smith
Tune Smiths
Sleazy Cheesy
Rock-on !!! and always rule the day
Peace
Floating Feathers
Sky ward bubbles
stone of hope
mountain of dispair
Hot Koko and the Mellows
a stone's hope band name
name band
insert name here
band camp
Kohunas
flirting with elves
screaming tin pickle boxing the bald husky
befriending the big goodness
Kopascetics
Witchita Wheat & The Threshers
Me and The Boys
Bittersweet Downs
TV Snow
Nekkid Mole Rat
Yes, No, Maybe
Sleeping Lizard
Reptiles in Repose
Resting Reptile Reclining Reptile
Kopana and the Drunken Militia
Kopana Moonshine and the Stills
Sweet Grass and the Foggy Bottoms
Kukla Kopana and the Ollies
Kops and Robbers
Ted Kopana and the Nightly News
Hats on a Drunken Worm Band Name
Bootilicious and the Hot Pockets
Blank Book
French Terry

Red Couch Conspiracy

This is the working name for the band...at least for now. Speaking of "the band", everyone keeps asking about it so, here's the skinny:

(rehearsal space, December 2009)

About 6-7 years ago I said to an old guitar player pal, Pete Poggione, that technology was catching up so we could play together again since he was then, as now, living in Michigan. That grew into the idea of "Pool" as in a pool of talent wherein people I had known or played with over the years could be in the same band from anywhere in the world.

At Christmas 2009, three of us from said Pool got together at my house and began writing/playing some stuff; myself, Pete, and Dan Kibler from Harrisburg, PA. Three days later was born "Red Couch Conspiracy" or RCC for short.

(Left: Dan Kibler, Right: Pete Poggione)

We've currently got 9 songs and we're scheduling our next rendezvous when, I suspect, we'll finish writing said songs, write a few more, and actually record (for real this time) a good portion of them. Once that happens, we'll be able to invite other guests from the "Pool" to fill in the gaps. But it was pretty clear in '09 that the core of the band was the three of us.

Words can't describe how grateful I am to Pete and Dan. I have a renewed sense of self, and a renewed sense that my life won't end with a day job and a pocket full of stress. There is hope on the horizon and it's name is Red Couch Conspiracy.

What do we sound like, you ask? It's a little hard to categorize (but we must, it is the human way, after all). It's actually easier to say what we are not: we are not country, blues, or jazz. We are not opera or classical. We are not Top 40 pop, rap, or hip-hop. I would venture we sound like a mix of Squeeze, Wilco, Crowded House, Over The Rhine, with a hit of blues and touch of The Stones and Mellencamp. So - if you can come up with a category for all that, then that's what we sound like.

(Above: Kopana and her Mannies on the Red Couch)

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is a whole lot better this time than it was last year. Last year my beloved Jack cat had died just two days prior. It was a harbinger of the year to come but, at the time I didn't know that. But it ruined VD just the same.

I still miss that old cat. He was the best.

2010 brings more play, less work

The title is exactly as I had intended 2010 to be. The first thing to go, less Tonic. Now, before you thousands of fans turn blue from gasping, fear not. The interviews continue - I've got three lined up over the next 10 days in fact - it's just that the show has been streamlined. That means, some things nobody was paying attention to anyway have been cut, like the Call to Artists and Remembrances. For as much as I'd like those to remain, they are time-eaters and I just don't have it to give anymore. So, until some $$$ starts flowing my way to help support the time it takes to keep them up-to-date, they've been 86'ed.

"The" book

Yes, it's come to be know simply as "The" book. People are as sick of hearing me talk about it as I am of hearing myself talk about it. But finally, things are moving.

Well, they were.

Then I got a call from a friend who asked me to send the manuscript (now a completely designed book) to the University Press of Kentucky, ironically, the only publisher I had approached previously and the only to reject me. Granted, it was the nicest let-down I'd ever gotten but it was a "no thanks" just the same.

So, just how weird is it that they want to see the book some three years later when it's ready to be self-published? I'll keep you posted on just how weird weird really is.

Hats off to The Black Rose

It's been eight months since my last post. Seems when my dog died she took some of me with her. But many, many things have changed since then - and all for the better.

One of those great things was the new friends I made through Humanity Academy. It was a week-long session filled with many ups and downs, mostly downs because we had to confront the horrible ways we treat one another, either because of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or just because somebody doesn't look and act the way we think they ought to. Stupid shit, but it's real and it hurts. But in all that dust-up I found a few people I could connect with. One of those is my friend LaKetta Rollins. She writes The Black Rose and has encouraged me to start writing again as well.

And so....here is to all things in the past, moving on, being stronger, and finding good friends along life's path. Thanks L. Shawn Rollins for being my pal.

R.I.P. my best friend - Dog is God spelled backward

what I always saw when I walked

last night - we walked the yard a lot

She was sick of my camera in her face

new toys

I've had a recent influx of gear upgrade-ness....

One I play and get to listen to all the time (Grestch drums and a PreSonus Firewire recording set-up). The other, I get to look at. Here, you have a look, too.

happiness in the grief

April has been a hard month. Not just for me but for many others I know. But in grief comes goodness.

For instance, I have some of the best co-workers anyone could ask for. Instead of sending flowers to both funerals, they instead gave me a $100 gift certificate to a local flower shop. I knew almost immediately what I would do with it.

On Saturday I bought and planted four fruit trees; one for each grandparent, even the one still living. I could think of no more fitting a tribute to their lives and the impact they each had on me than to plant a tree in their honor.

(I have planted everything, except the mature trees, in this pic)

 

My Terry grandparents had apple trees all over their small farm and my grandmother Terry's home place, at the head of Railroad Fork, was littered with apple trees. They even had an orchard on the side of the mountain. 

My maternal grandparents (Adams) had a peach tree behind their house and it was from this tree that a green snake fell down the back of Mamaw's dress while she was wringing a Sunday Chicken's neck. Needless to say, she slung the chicken into the creek, broken neck and all, in order to free herself of the serpent. Someone downstream enjoyed our Sunday dinner, I'm sure. We had a vegetarian meal instead. But my Mamaw Adams made the best crab apple jelly on the planet from the crab apple tree beside their garden.

Fruit trees: I can't thank my co-workers enough for helping me honor my grandparents.

R-L: Hazel Prater Terry (Jonathan Apple), Hannah Hamilton Adams (Crab Apple), 

Orville "Bodine" Adams (Georgia Peach), Thornton Terry (Elberta Peach)

a really bad day

the dog is fading fast. this morning she was panting and pacing as if this was the final day.

By 10:30 I'd gotten the following note from a stranger:

I'm a big fan of Stealin' Horses from way back. I love the music. I found you through Gregg's page. I'm still shocked over his passing. This is too awful. Be well, and may God comfort you in this time of loss...me, I'm still waiting.

My heart sank. He turned 44 just days ago. I still don't know what happened only that it was "unexpected and sudden".Gregg Fulkerson and his son Carter

Not more than 30 minutes later my mother called to tell me of my grandmother Terry's passing, a short 9 days after my grandfather Terry died. It's been a bad, bad day.

Hazel and Thornton Terry, 1983

an update

I didn't realize how long it had been since I last posted. Shame on me for having a life. Must be the delicious spring-like weather. Last weekend the garden got tilled and 18 asparagus crowns were planted.

Yesterday, I took a vacation day and went home to West Liberty. All three living grandparents are in dire straights.

My dad's parents are both in the hospital. They were in the same room until Mamaw Terry somehow came down with e-coli (hospitals are so unsanitary). She screams every time she's touched because of the severe swelling caused from fluid retention, and that is caused from the congestive heart failure and kidney malfunction. He is struggling to breathe because of pneumonia and heart issues. He weighs a whopping 100 lbs! Alzheimer's is setting in so, he's usually very irritated (further evidence that I come by my colorful use of language naturally) and, unfortunately, he's a walker. This morning, for whatever reason, he thought he'd get up. He fell and cut himself all over. It's just not looking good for either of them. I did manage to keep his anxiety at bay for a while yesterday by applying a cold rag to his head. He was somewhere between a heart attack and an anxiety attack. The cool rag and touch helped to keep him quiet for as long as I did it. No sooner would I move that he would become agitated again.

Meanwhile, my mom's mother continues to suffer light strokes periodically. During lunch yesterday we noticed she was sitting in her chair with her head in her hands. I got up and asked what was wrong. "I'm 97, that's what's wrong. You wait till you get this old, you'll know what I mean." Can't argue with that. I went back to the dinner table.

It's so funny to learn so much about oneself in the throws of their dying (not sure that's the correct spelling for this context). Every word they speak, every move they make I see myself and I understand more about who I am and where I've come from. Some things are truly born of genetics alone. No amount of therapy or prayer is gonna change it. Might as well embrace it. Let the colorful metaphors continue, I say!

Jack

This is the last picture of my boy Jack. It was taken during the ice storm less than 2 weeks ago. He was still doing good then - he'd started his new round of antibiotics and was pretty perky. He took a turn very quickly.

He was the coolest cat ever. He never messed where he shouldn't. He never asked for anything that he didn't need. He never got underfoot. He never meowed incessantly. The worst thing about him was that he was a puker - from the moment I met him, he was a puker. That aside, he was an utterly perfect cat. A true Zen kitty if ever there was one. I'd had him for 3 years; he was probably 13-14. He'd lived at least 7 lives by the time he got to me and I saw him through his last two. He was a fighter for sure, even though he was a tiny guy.

He died on Thursday the 12th. While most people fear Friday the 13th, for me it's always been Thursday the 12th. I broke my leg on Thursday the 12th. I took a racket to the head and had 12 stitches over my eye on Thursday the 12th. My mother got hit by a stupid girl who ran a red light on...you guessed it, Thursday the 12th. And, so, it came as little surprise that my beloved Jack died on Thursday the 12th. Little surprise, too, that I had been suffering one of my worst migraines ever that same day (something I share with my mother - bad things happen when migraines are involved).

Here I am, 3 days later, and I'm still looking for him at different places in the house. I caught myself calling Max Jack and Lilly Jack. I'm sure I'll call the dog Jack, too, before long. I buried him beneath the Norwegian Pine in the backyard and, without realizing it, I can see it from every window in the house. I keep apologizing to him that I couldn't do more to fix the problem. Like I can fix Lymphoma. Poor guy. He was the best cat ever.

Jack. Jacket. Jackie. Jackie Doo. Jacket Man.

on being thankful

first there was John Travolta's 16 year old son who died suddenly and then I watched Barbara Walters' interview with a very ill Patrick Swayze. Famous people, sure, but human like the rest of us. They come on the heels of a holiday where I was reminded that we're all getting older. Nearly everyone I know, their health is on the edge, some are actually tipping over. So, I've been pausing to think about how lucky I am. I've got my issues, sure, but by and large I'm pretty damn healthy. I know two friends with MS, two others with diabetes, still others with this and that - all things that could turn deadly in the blink of an eye. I've had friends die at very, very early ages - lives cut entirely too short. At the end of the Walter's special I found myself thanking God that I'm ok. With elderly parents and no children or spouse, staying healthy is even more important than ever. There's nobody but me so, what the hell happens if I go down? I don't wanna know. Not yet.

just one more

a very happy Lance, feeling relatively good, in a happy "Celly" on our way to Tulsa
he thinks he's an old man. I think he's "Oh Man!"

a new year

well, here we are, 2009, and tomorrow sees me and many others back in the office for the first time this year. I'd like to say I'm excited to go back to work. I'd like to say I've done everything I said I was going to do before we broke for the holidays. I'd like to say I have set resolutions that I have started...and can actually finish. I'd like to say many, many things that are true but, so far, I've not said anything true except that it's a new year.

(Robin, Lance, Kate)

I was very fortunate to visit my beloved Tahlequah, Oklahoma over the holiday. It was a short visit, and action packed as always (Dirty Santa party pic above), but it was very, very good for many reasons. Not the least of which was seeing many of my best pals on the planet and realizing that they, too, are aging. It's not just me. And, with the exception of yours truly, we're aging very well for the most part - at least as far as looks are concerned. Health is another matter entirely.

It is this last point that is fueling me to improve my health and well-being this year. To stop giving all of my energy to my day job and my second, non-paying job and to start using that energy to make me a better person to my fellow man and to myself; emotionally, physically, spiritually, and intellectually. I should be coming into my prime, not feeling overwhelmed and tired all the time. If I live as long as my first grandparent that died, my 44th birthday this week marks my mid-life. It seems to me that 44 years is not enough and that 88 won't be enough either. So, in case I don't even make it that far, I better get to work on making the most of what's left and stop giving it to energies that don't deserve nor fully appreciate it.

There - I feel better now.