- Dad's Sparky Poem ...

- For Anyone That Does Follow My Blog, You'll Know That My Entries Are Anything But Regular, This One Is Extremely Special As It's My Father's Writing, From The Sketch Pad That Just Keeps On Giving; I Bring You A Poem, By Reg Gaudette, circ. 1984

He said in five years he'd do it,

And then, he set out to prove it.

He got out his geigers,

found gold in them 'dar tigers

Sparky, we just knew, you knew it.

The Blue Jays got hot here and there,

But we cooled them with guys like

Doug Bair,

Along with Aurelio, and Willie,

We stopped them silly,

And any other team that would dare.

Sparky, (formally a Red),

Came to Detroit with his bed.

"Give me 5 years to do it",

He then set out to prove it,

And gave us a crown like he said.

At the risk of sounding humble,

Zoologists have made a fumble,

Elephants are purely scary,

Lions; an adversary,

But Tigers are Lords of the jungle.

- We have no official date, or title, just this ...

- Hope you enjoy this as much as we did, yeah, my dad was a fan ... }:)

Love, S.

- How Do You Build A Hill ?

- Hey All, the healing continues !!! the last two Dr. appointments have been very positive. I feel like the hardest part has been recognizing that I'm just like everyone else, I'm frail & human! Seriously though, I've never had to really deal with any major health issues, & if there was a year to do it, 2011 has proved itself to be that year. I'm feeling better everyday and owe a great deal of thanks to family, friends, and some people I've barely been able to remember, thank-you all I really feel a deep debt of gratitude.

- Enough of the lovey, mushy B.S., buckle up cause this one might get a little "Blue". I would like to start by sharing a little quoted material ...

"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint". (Isaiah 40:28-31)

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland".(Isaiah 43:18-19)

"Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you". (Isaiah 46:4)

"I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him" … (Revelation 6:8)

- Hey, I know, "Bible Verses Stacey !? Really" !? But please, follow me, give me a little lee-way here, please. You see, I've quoted the Dali Lama, Nietzsche, The Buddha, I've quoted, Frankl, Plato, & Aristotle, that only names a few. The bottom line is these are all men who, one way or another, have committed thoughts and ideas to paper for the world to ponder. I have always done that, ... read, & pondered.

- The quotes from the book of Isaiah, were scriptures Sara and I chose for our wedding, at the time we were deep in study, and while everyone else was quoting, "Love is Patient, Love is Kind", we wanted to share something about who "we were", as a couple, so the whole quote should be read as one entire thought, I encourage you to go back and read it that way now. It speaks volumes about "Sara & Stacey", and if you've read it correctly, you shouldn't get much "religion" out of it.

- The last quote, from the book of revelation, is a very powerful one for me. As a person in recovery, I know all too well, what comes for each of us, and I've seen far too much these last 6mos. I've lived some 42yrs. and have seen young people half my age be taken, far too soon, far too young. Yet this is the way of our world isn't it? If I were to give you a shovel, and ask you to "build me a hill", what is your very first move? (assuming we are already outside) Certainly, to build a hill one must first, dig a hole!

- There are indisputable laws that govern our entire universe, gravity teaches lessons everyday. Just ask yourself the next time you trip. This one certain, absolute truth cannot be disputed, you cannot have something, without first there being nothing, to have life we must have death. To have heat, there must be the absence of heat, cold. To enjoy light, we must endure darkness. To build a hill, we must dig a hole.

- These last 6mos. I (we) have lost and said goodbye to 4 very special people, not the least of which was my mother. I have spent 2plus weeks in hospital, been back for Joshua, had a car accident, & put more medication into my own body then I ever did in the previous 41yrs. of my life. My take on the entirety of it all? There must be fertilizer, if we are to grow roses. We must endure the darkness, if we are to appreciate the light. As many times as I am convinced there is a God, I am left with times like this that cause me to doubt Him, or His Love for me, and yet my Faith endures. I refuse to share anything less then my truth, for anyone to expect me to believe otherwise is dishonest.

- The Rest I'll Save For Another Day, Keep A Heart For Truth, Love, S.

- Life, ... Only For The Living ...

- Well, once again I find myself making excuses because it's been a couple of weeks. Yet, if you know me then you know the reason's are certainly valid. If you don't, then keep reading ...

- Truth is I've been dying to get to this point. but today is the first time my eyes have let me. I'm sure there is a long road ahead but being able to focus on the keyboard for more then two or three sentences, & a "status update" is pretty cool, I must say. In today's status I wrote that "it's the feeling, experiencing a thing". I woke up to a man working on a roof down the street. His faith moved him to break into song, & we were all treated to his beautiful singing voice as he sang spirituals for a half hour. It was truly an amazing way to wake up. During one of his songs, I remembered a moment in the hospital, just before the first lumbar puncture, when I realized the course my life had taken. I understood that I had not only chose sobriety 14yrs. ago, I had decided to experience the remainder of my life with the cleanest, most sober mind possible. It was in that moment that fear of the lumbar puncture left & in it's place I found acceptance, and anticipation. While I never looked forward to any of the testing, I found myself willing to endure the experience. Then they asked to do a second the following day!

- It was hard enough to consider the MRI, let alone someone sticking needles in my spine, & then they asked for a second round of each! Of course I wasn't happy, but I was willing. I understood that this is what I'd chosen 14yrs. earlier. I made the decision, on January 14'th, 1997 to live, to experience the remainder of my my life, with a clear mind, with all of my senses firing, alive, ready, & in tact.

- Trust me when I say, that is the thing; to live. It is to experience, to taste what life has to offer. To grab the apple, sink your teeth deep into it, and savor it's flavor as you feel it's juice run down your chin. These are the questions I'd ask. When it's cold outside, have you paused to feel the sting of cold on your cheeks? Have you ever run through a puddle? Have you ever run through a puddle, with your child's hand in yours, with your lover's hand? Have you ever run outside as the torrential downpour starts; raised your face to the heavens as the rain pounds down? This is what life has to offer, & so much more, and I have lived it. I look forward; albeit with a touch more trepidation to living, experiencing it, tasting it all.

- I spoke with my brother today, about all of this. I shared with him the lowest point of it all. Sure father's day was pretty cool, the boys worked hard to make it that way; Josh even riding his bike to get coffee first thing in the morning. Sara made certain supper was amazing, & some cool gifts were in place, & she found the most moving card I've ever received. Who would've guessed it would end in the hospital, fearing a stroke, or worse with eyes that were trying their hardest to imitate a chameleon. As the neuro-team talked about brain tumors, cancer, & too many other horror stories; Sara and I tried to digest it all. Left alone, however briefly, I had my thoughts & no answers.

- I did know that there were three boys, still living at home that needed a father, & at least one of them dreamed of university. It was here that I felt the lowest, I experienced a letting go I pray none of you ever go through. I made two phone calls in that moment, one was to a sister to make certain my son realized his dream, & the other was to my brother, to discuss what it is to be a father to these boys. It was easily the most painful, & terrifying moment of my life so, far. Know this, I lived it. I experienced that moment. As that dark, brooding rainstorm brewed up; as the skies rumbled, and the sinister clouds grew, I ran out side with my family on my heart, & I lifted my face to the sky. The rain drops, big as golf balls, pelted my face, & hot tears streamed down my cheeks, I lived it. The moment feels like an eternity on my heart, as I write about it, & I think that's a good thing because there lies the proof that I paused to experience it. For me, that's living.

- I've said; "2011 has sucked so far", & I've been wrong. You see, it's only been four, or five months. When I consider the steaming piles of shit we've experienced, I think of the roses that have bloomed; & that is the way of things, isn't it? Too many are those that never learn to appreciate the good, the little things. My first tattoo was made with a sewing needle stolen from my mother's sewing kit, & Indian ink stolen from my father's art supplies. I was 13yrs. Some 29yrs. later, I just sat for number 30 something. There are always the same, cliche questions from the same people, "did it hurt?", "where'd you get it done?". Occasionally I get grief from those who just don't get me, yet they have opinions that most of us really don't care to hear. Tattoo's have never been about money, never been about numbers, not for me. My body, & my life are mine. I answer to my wife, my children, & no-one else. I appreciate concern, but I know myself better today then ever before. On Tues. July 12'th, I honored an agreement with my sisters, I honored my mother, & I took the biggest step yet toward actually finishing a tattoo piece. I'll finish my leg, more beautifully then I would've guessed. As I sat, I thought of mom, the moment in my sister's basement that the idea first came up. I watched Jay work, & I pondered the previous few months. I found myself so proud to be part of such a strong family. We've endured so much, we lived so much in such a short period of time, life certainly waits on no man. Time races on, like a spoiled, angry little child, demanding the shiniest cereal box from the grocery store shelf. It cares for no one, or no thing. My thought, ... Have you ever paused to live it? Have you stopped, long enough to take in the entire moment? Can you look back to that one time, recall the tastes, smells, the textures, remember each emotion? Without question, life is for the living, I pray each of you aren't dead before your time!

Love, S.

- Happy Father's Day ...

- A Must For The 1'st Post From The New Lap-Top. So For The Few That Will Read, The Millions That Never Will, & The Drones In Between, A Very Happy Father's Day! Go Hug Someone & Tell Them You Love Them !

- Luthier: one who makes or repairs stringed musical instruments, as violins or guitars. Origin: late 19th century: from French, from luth 'lute'

- Pedagogue: (ped a gog), a teacher, or school master, especially a dull formal or pedantic teacher. Origin: Middle English pedagoge, Latin paedagogus, a slave who escorted children to school.

- A Good Friend Shared This With Joshua & I, So Today I'd Like To Share It With You ...

A Pedagogues Lament

It's a pity, isn't it? Nowadays, nobody wants to pay the dues for their art. Everyone wants to BE something but nobody wants to BECOME something. Everyone wants to be an expert but no one wants to become one. But you must become before you can be.

It is noble to be a student, a beginner. Whatever happened to the fine old tradition of the "amateur"? The word comes from the French: "lover of". If you love something, you want to know it deeply. However, that takes time and effort. And it seems people just don't want to give things the effort it takes to know something deeply.
I often find myself telling my students: "Drop your illusions. You cannot become a luthier after taking a course. You can pick up some mental tools and some knowledge about the assembly process, but not experience. You can only acquire experience like you do age. Experience comes after many guitars. Experience comes from studying the masters: Martin, Torres, Macaferri, Aguado, Velazquez and trying to dissect their decisions, studying how they solved the great problems. Then you fail, throw up your hands repeatedly, then pull yourself together, and start yet again. You suffer sleepless nights wondering why things failed and what to do next. You devour information about tools, finishes, machinery, abrasives, adhesives, old ways, new ways, and odd ways. Then, somewhere between your fiftieth and hundredth guitar you start to hear it. Because you've been straining to listen for so long, you hear the peculiar song of the sound box."
But as I look into the eyes of some aspirants of the craft, and I see so many eyes looking back with; "Not me! I'm a special case. Waiting is for idiots. Life is too short."
But mastery comes from giving it all the time it takes, whatever that may be.

One student asked me if he could build two guitars in the same course. He had already sold one and wanted to display the other in the new shop he was going to open up!

Another student disapproved of my choice of Spanish method slotted-neck construction for his first guitar. He was paying dearly for the course and felt entitled to build a more "advanced" instrument. Could he pearl it and sunburst it besides? He too was anxious to make a living as a luthier right after the course.

Another young fellow told me he had built two guitars which had come out "pretty good". He could get financing, so if I would agree to be his partner we could both open up this school and...

One student had gotten a job as a repairman after showing off the guitar he had made in the course to his employer. Now, he wondered; "Could I tell him how to get this bridge off?"

The production manager of a guitar company calls: "One of your students is applying for a job. He's got his guitar here and his calling card that says 'expert luthier, fine handcrafted instruments, skilled repairs and restorations'. Is he for real?"

My answer: "He's pretty good with his hands but has precious little humility. Which of the two qualities are you looking for?"

Some time ago, one student's third guitar came into the shop. It had a fancy three-color printed label. The action was up in the air, but the guitar had to be rebuilt before it could be adjusted. When the owner returned it to the builder, all he got was a scolding. The owner showed me the builder's expensive brochure where he said the luthier had been "apprenticed" to me. He called me responsible for his dilemma.

Later, I was feeling badly about all this and I asked someone whom I knew to be a good luthier if I wasn't creating a batch of mini Frankensteins and loosing them upon the world. Had these people just never learned how to be students, or were they just simply cynical frauds? His advice was that Guitar making would surely take care of them in time. There are no old dilettantes or fakers in this business. It is too complex and too elusive a thing to do. It rewards only the pure in heart, the ones who give themselves completely to it and ask nothing from it except the privilege to be allowed to continue. Guitar making weeds out the faint of heart, the poseurs, the ego trippers. Just like the making of a guitar itself, the making of a guitar maker takes its own sweet time. Those who are too impatient to sit and wait at the door soon get up and leave to become insurance trainees, dental technicians, or surfers or something.

Alas, Guitar making evokes an aura of seductive mystery, one with a great appeal to the sentimental and illusion-prone. But after the third set of expensive rosewood breaks on the iron or curls up in the mold, or the fourth center seam opens up, or when the finish starts to fish eye on your tenth guitar, the illusion ends. You have to pay your Guitar making dues. No one can shield you from those dues.

He continued, reminding me that it is impossible to teach anybody anything. The learner must first learn to be a patient student and then teach himself. Above all, students must supply their own will to persevere through the frustrating obstacles and all the disinformation out there masquerading as the real thing.

A master of the art is someone who has made more mistakes than you, has made mistakes you haven't made yet, and has learned how to embrace them. Thus the master has learned to see them coming before they happen. You proceed toward mastery one mistake at a time. How many errors can you stand? As many as it takes to become a master. The master has persevered past the errors until he's made all of them.

Although it's cynical to award somebody a "diploma" in Guitar making after a single course as some schools do, the student must decide whether to put it on the wall or hide it in a box with other memorabilia.

So to conclude, and with my apologies to Shakespeare: "The evil you do will live on while the good is oft interred with your bones". Don't sell your first guitars or they'll come back to haunt you.

(William Cumpiano)

- Thanks John, For Sharing This With Me ...

Love, S.

- It's a very different place I find myself in today. So blessed to have amazing friends, with one even doing the "Seinfeld-esque", "Pop-In", On Wednesday. Another made sure Jack had a very positive field trip, even if the professionals providing chaperons weren't as inclined. I attended an appointment yesterday that I may have avoided in years past. I found myself so happy I that I went. It was an opportunity to see some things through the eyes of a totally impartial person, and this type of input I value, deeply. I also gained some new insight, & new approaches to old techniques.

- I wish there were more answers, more direction, I wish I had some sort of certainty going forward, but there is none.

- I'm left to wonder, is this what it is to be a child of God? My father did the best could, with the knowledge, tools, & opportunities he was provided, I'm sure. Given the chance I'm certain there are things he may very well, have done differently; as much as I would change so many things for my own children. Yet with my own knowledge, tools, & opportunities; limited as they are, many times my own hands are tied; this is what it is to be a parent. It seems God really doesn't feel this same way toward us, does He? "Given The Chance"? Well good grief, if God doesn't have the chance, then who does? If I'm to believe all that I'm taught, then God can effect miracles in our lives, & yet, it would seem that he chooses not to. Even in the lives of so many deserving, faithful people. I guess "given the chance", we're on our own.

- You may think, I'm a little pissed, & you'd be right, but wait cause I'm not sure who I'm pissed at; although I know it's not really God. We have free will, and to an extent our free will, our decision making, affects those around us, yet at some point we need to stop placing blame, accept our circumstances for what they are, it's then, at this point that we can affect change in our own lives.Certainly my father's decision making, his in-decision, affected me, my mother, & all 4 of my sisters. Now where do I draw the line? Where to I take on the responsibility for my own decision making? I believe that moment is unique to us all. I don't know the date, but I know where I was when it began for me. Why it went wrong is just as clear to me. I can, & have picked apart every moment, every nuance, & effectively, efficiently placed copious amounts of blame. I won't anymore. Truthfully, look into your own life, place blame, point fingers, ... now what? To what end? Once they've all been sufficiently punished, to your own satisfaction, you still have to shut your head off to sleep at night, & when you can't do that, again, I'll ask ... to what end?

- I know for a fact that I was making powerful, important decisions, that greatly affected the course of my life, & the lives of those around me; at a very young, tender age. I had complete freedom to do this as well. I was even encouraged to do so in many cases. I make this point only to note that, at least for me, at this time in my life, I was far too young; 12, 13, 14yrs. old. I was left to decide if I would smoke, if I would live at home, or stay in a reformatory, what school I would attend; I was choosing to stay out all night at sleepovers, or to come home. These and many other decisions were left completely up to me. I was far too young physically and emotionally, & this is this is the place where it all goes wrong. I had no appreciation, no real comprehension for the power of choice. Really, what 13yr. old would?

- This is real power, choice. This is the freedom God graces us with, it ultimately defines our relationship with him. It's is the single biggest power we possess, to choose our own way, to define our own destiny, & I as a very young boy couldn't possibly understand the depth of that until I was much older. Today, as a father I impress this upon my children every moment I can. As a husband I look to share this with Sara daily. I have found more freedom in recent years then I ever imagined possible, yet I find myself bound by the world in which I live.

- So there you have it, the very "different" place I find myself in. Who am I pissed off at? Well, to be sure the list is "long & distinguished". The government that keeps me under it's thumb, the union that keeps my mailbox empty, the entire system that infuriates me; or maybe just myself for allowing it all to affect me ...

you be the judge, I'm trying to get free }:)

- be good all, ... Love, S.

- The Two Most Powerful Warriors Are Patience And Time ...

Hey All,

- I was lookin for inspiration today, & Oh Boy, did I find it!

- It was right under the post from Thursday, Nov. 15 / 2007.

- I can't believe a post from almost four years ago received comments a month after mom passed away. What does it mean? I don't know, but I can tell you this, I'm hoping & praying that this person contacts me. While I've never been very "quiet" about the years past, my recovery, or much of anything. (be nice!), many are those that find it impossible to speak. I totally understand. I know what it feels like to be in fear, to live with the shame, the guilt, to wake up with the filth you can't wash off. I've felt like even thinking about the monster would bring it, (him) back to life. I've barely existed some days, choosing to not think about it, believing that would make it all go away. I know, & I have lived with all the cliche's, all the fears, all of the shame, and wondered aloud if I had ever really been free. I've spoke to rooms of 200 or more people, sharing my story, only to be mocked under whispers, & told, "I shared too much". Living under the weight of, other people's shame, is not living.

- Today, I will seek justice. I refuse to back away. So many hopes & dreams have gone un-finished, un-done, & half realized. Not this, not today; be warned Blake Morton. your time is up. The cold dark hands of fate are closing in, at the front of the line you will not see a small, weak little boy. This line forms behind a 6'4", 220lb. man. It is my deepest prayer that the word gets out, & those whose lives you've wreaked your stench upon will stand beside me, or line up behind me, ... you will be held accountable.

The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.

(Leo Tolstoy)

- iPad ? I Don't Need No, Stinking, iPad !!!

- I Thought I might have had an iPad today. Turns out the Tucker & Tazz show, are jerks! I guess Allen Thicke has more "Star Power" for the jaded, London, On. "Upper Crust". Then a real, honest to goodness musician, like Steven Page. Singing for bananas, & jumping through hoops for your trainers deserves a radio interview, as opposed to actually writing, performing, & touring your very own billboard hits. Hey, I'm not bitter, really. I honestly couldn't care less about an "i" anything, my only thought was to try & get some real, accomplished Canadian talent for the guys to talk with this morning. It's their show, & their call on whether he was "iPad worthy". My opinion, I'd take 10min. with Steven Page over 2hrs. with Bieber any day of the week. I mean Come on, a talented multi-instrumentalist, singer & song writer, or a trained monkey. No-Brainer ! Maybe Steven's dark past is too much, after all Bieber's "donated shoes", damn near make him a philanthropist right!? & Londoner's like their golden-boy, do-gooders! Ahhh, Ahhh, A-Ch ("Tim Best"!!!) Chooo !!! ... excuse me, sorry ...

- Any-who, tough going lately. As if the bathroom ceiling wasn't enough, the toilet goes and the floor under it is now rotted. Yes, the ceiling in there is ready to collapse any minute, & now the kitchen tap is broken clean off! We're currently using pliers to run it. I'm about ready to quit. Seriously; throw in the towel & give up entirely. This has easily been the single worst year of my adult life thus far. Trust me when I say; "that's saying a lot". I've had some pretty rough times: welfare & E.I. for the 1'st year sober, lay-offs & working 3 jobs, back injury & re-training, & I'm just skimming the surface.

- Hey, I know that by comparison, I got it relatively great. The Country I live in, the community I call home, my wife & kids, but I wake up every day, wondering how to pay my bills, keeping lights on, let alone internet, satellite etc ... how, or even if I'm going to keep my house. This is a gut wrenching worry I carry everyday. Then they tell me I'm supposed to grieve the loss of my mother, I feel like I don't have the time. There's too much to do. There's always my mold infested bathroom, the windows screaming to get fixed, & now my kitchen is going to pot. Did, I mention I have three boys, that never stop eating, never stop growing, and have constant, non-stop wants & needs, that Sara & I can barely keep up with.

- I know, every family, every where same story for thousands of years, but hey, watching the 4'th generation of my blood line prepare for the same daily dose of soul crushing frustration ain't nothing but painful. Mind numbing, spirit wrenching pain. A little dramatic you may say, walk in my shoes I respond.

- I know my Grandfather, died of a massive heart attack, at around 62yrs. alcohol abuse, & hard living were to blame. Dad, died at 52yrs. only 10yrs. sober, he lay the ground work for recovery, to be sure, yet alcoholism & poverty were our constant companion. I'm thankful, grateful, that my four sisters were able to work as hard as they have. I'm more then pleased that smart choices, wise planning, & opportunity have all found favour for them. Truthfully I don't feel hard done by here. I embrace every moment as an opportunity for learning & growth. I know, now more then ever that time passes very fast, & as I look to our children, I see that for them, the next (4'th) generation, "Luck, is where preparation & opportunity meet" (Trudeau).

- You see, so many sit back & seethe, boiling with anger & resentment. "why does she have it so good"? or, "They've always had it so easy"? Not this guy, I'm happy when good people do well. Yet, I know that opportunity doesn't always drop out of the sky, many is the time when one has to work, & create opportunity where there is none. This is where I fear for my children, there's been a long held tradition of casting stones at success in my lifetime. I'm hoping that my children will learn to pick these stones up, polish them into gems, & stick them in their pockets. It is this idea that hard working people don't deserve their success that fuels bitterness, and finds one on the couch with a bowl of Mac & Cheese, and a big resentment. I'd rather see those efforts turn from hurling stones, into laying the bricks for a foundation of new family traditions. It's my prayer that they take the family name in a whole new direction.

- So yeah, I really don't care about an iPad. It's not like I've been dreaming about Steve Jobs hand delivering one in his tighty whiteys. There's been no weekend long plotting & scheming. No bodily organs going on E-Bay! If one fell outa the sky it may make life a little more fun. It could, maybe, add something to the blog, or the photography we enjoy, but it won't hug my kids, love my wife, or keep me sober today. It won't notice the robin making a nest in my back yard tree, or catch her call for a new boy friend in our grass. Those are the things I wouldn't share with anyone, or any "thing". I'm hoping if Steven Page did call, that they took time to ask him about the new album, or how his 1930's Martin is doing. Cause the rest is really old news. Laundry is calling, machine just went, "Bing, Bong" ...

- For The Record, I Love Tucker, Tazz, & Kelly, & London's Best Rock, FM96, This Station Has Been A Bright Spot Ever Since We Moved Here In '98 ... }:)

- Be Good, Love, S.

- Isaac's Never Fed Me Any Bullshit ...

- Hey All, 3'rd post, in like what? 5 days? Is this becoming a habit? I don't know but I like it!

- So I'm sure there's gonna be a few people that won't be talking to me any time soon. After yesterday's post I've pissed off friends & family, to name a few! That's cool though. Reason why? I'm not full of shit. I live in truth.

- After losing mom in Feb. I found myself with a remarkable opportunity to start brand new, the broken relationships with my sisters. After a very candid conversation with Jocelyne, we agreed that we had both been living very similar lifestyles. Where our personal lives were concerned we both enjoyed, what I call, "brutal honesty". This lifestyle has left me with a small circle of friends. Yet, those in my life, those close to me can be certain that they will always receive truth, no matter how difficult or uncomfortable it may be to hear. This is where yesterday's post came from. While it stewed in me for some time, a number of people in my life needed to know where I stand, now if they choose to read, there will be no doubt.

- As it turns out my sisters have lived much the same way. It comes down to wounded feelings which are typically put aside, along with big personalities in place of truth & the freedom to be honest. This I can embrace, no end, as this lifestyle has allowed me to live free for some time. I would ask you, would you rather I tell you that your behaviour is making you look like a drama queen, diva, or should I shut up & allow you to completely humiliate yourself? If your my friend, you'll pull me aside & tell me people are starting to stare!

- Quite simply, it is the difference between saying, "I feel like shit", or saying, "I don't feel well". You see the 1'st statement is complete bullshit, the 2'nd is accurate to a fault. We live in a society that has embraced bullshit as part of our everyday culture, allow me to explain. The statement, "I feel like shit" presumes to communicate that one feels bad, or unhealthy by comparing your current state of being to that of fecal matter, human or otherwise. "I feel like shit". As no human in history has ever existed in any other state, only to come back from that state and share their experience, this is obviously an in-accurate statement. One might as well say, "I feel like potatoes", or "I feel like carpet fibre", and you'd be truthfully communicating as much information. One would have had to exist in said state, and come back to their human form to be able to communicate the experience objectively. Only then could one honestly say, "I feel (this way)". A small stretch for the grey matter, I know; but I'm sure we can all use the exercise!

- What becomes infuriating is that society has grown to accept this as the norm, so much so that it permeates every aspect of our day to day lives. 3 friends go out for a social evening. The next day, after a night of hard drinking, one calls another to report, "Fuck, I feel like I've been hit by a truck". Now, unless said friend had indeed been previously "hit by a truck" and survived; this statement is bullshit. Then again, this friends survival from the truck may even be the reason for the celebration, I digress ...

- My point here is simply that as a group, our society has come to accept, even embrace bullshit and dishonesty as the norm. It is a vicious and destructive beast. Happily, I found my sisters had not. In my home & my family one can always find truth, I hope you can to. I will leave you with an excerpt from a piece written by, whom I believe, to be the the leading expert on this very topic ...

"The notion of carefully wrought bullshit involves, then, a certain

inner strain. Thoughtful attention to detail requires discipline and

objectivity. It entails accepting standards and limitations that

forbid the indulgence of impulse or whim. It is this selflessness

that, in connection with bullshit, strikes us as in apposite. But in

fact it is not out of the question at all. The realms of advertising

and of public relations, and the nowadays closely related realm of

politics, are replete with instances of bullshit so unmitigated that

they can serve among the most indisputable and classic paradigms of

the concept. And in these realms there are exquisitely sophisticated

craftsmen who -- with the help of advanced and demanding techniques of

market research, of public opinion polling, of psychological testing,

and so forth -- dedicate themselves tirelessly to getting every word

and image they produce exactly right.

Yet there is something more to be said about this. However studiously

and conscientiously the bullshitter proceeds, it remains true that he

is also trying to get away with something" ...

Harry G. Frankfurt, "On Bullshit"

http://www.amazon.ca/Bullshit-Harry-G-Frankfurt/dp/0691122946

- For me, & my sisters, my closest friends, there can be no other way. "Complete Truth", "Brutal Honesty", many ways to say the same thing, give us the opportunity to improve on who, & what we are. This heart for truth is the way we can physically show, without vacant words, that we are willing to go to any lengths to be better people.

- Recently I had an opportunity to spend a great deal of time in conversation with one of the most wise, and intellectual young woman I know. We spoke at great length as parents do; mine older, hers younger, parental struggles at different ends of the same spectrum. On matters of faith came her most wise & insightful statement of all. What took me some 40yrs. of struggle and introspection to gather, she had grasped, with full understanding mid way into her 20's. I was astounded. As I babbled upon my rickety soap box, espousing varied and random tid-bits, sharing my faith journey, she told of a small golden cross she wears, and said simply, "I don't know". She then added how this is her basis for belief in all things, & of this one thing, she is unshakably certain. Humbly, I obviously paraphrase, and yet, ... how wise, to "not know" ...

- Gonna play with my cat today, pets never tell lies !

Love, S.

- That Traveller's Always Waiting ...

- So I knew a long time ago that this one was gonna piss a lot of people off. As a matter of fact I can see the faces of these people & It hurts. It's painful to consider pissing them off, because of the love I have for them. Well, you gotta break some eggs to make an omelette, & while no one's ever knocked down any doors to get a plate full of my cooking, I guess you won't hate a brother for trying.

- Now let's start by noting a couple of the loads of bullshit I heard spewed by more then a few. "I work my ass off, I wanna come home & relax, I'm entitled", even George Carlin had an answer for your entitlement. Short answer; your "rights" are bullshit. You know what your entitled to? Raising a family, helping with supper, homework, laundry, listening to the endless ranting & raving of the lunatics we all call children, add infinitum, that's called being a fucking parent. Your "entitled" to show up and raise kids, with all of your faculties in place, because that's what you chose to do, & that job never goes away. The "being a parent contract" ends with death! This bullshit notion that claims after a long day at work, I'm "entitled" to some down time is so fucked I don't know where to begin. Does that mean our children should stop having needs because mommy & daddy need to "relax"? Fuck me, they didn't come with an off switch, they don't go into "sleep mode" because you feel you deserve a coke & a smile. Get over yourself, they have needs that never go away. You can't tell me that you have nothing better to do. How about helping with that homework? Read them a book, pick up an instrument you could learn together, take 'em to a Fuck'n class after school. The Gift of your time is the most valuable gift of all! If I die, totally stressed, exhausted, spent & burnt-out because I was serving my children in a parental capacity, then I will check out happy. You can all rest assured that I will not kick off with a good buzz on, beer in my hand yelling at my boys to stop chasing the cats, won't happen. Chances are, there'll be laundry to do that day!

- Now this whole bull-shit "all natural" argument. That it's "better then alcohol". O.K. To be sure; every part of the "man-made" atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima & Nagasaki Japan; were, in fact "all natural", and within the first 2 - 4 months of them being dropped, these "man-made", items killed 150K - 246K people. Probably more then half in the first day. You scratch your head; I say "but wait there's more". You may say, "wow 246 thousand people, crazy". Yet, if we through out a low, conservative number like 47 000; and then point this number to Canadian (deaths/yr.) on average, that are linked to substance abuse; you may just pause. Now I'll tell you that in the 66 years since the bombings, we can safely link about 3 102 000 deaths to substance abuse. So what you might say, 3mil. over 60 years, but here's the hook, patient reader.

- Each & every piece of those bombs were found naturally occurring in, or on this pretty blue planet we call home. Human hands bent, twisted and manipulated these elements to create those horrific death machines, and in the exact same way, every alcoholic beverage, every spliff you twist and every pill you pop occurs naturally in some state on our planet. The citizens of those cities never stood, open arms, waiting patiently as the bombs dropped, & to some extent, previous generations can claim ignorance as we didn't honestly understand how deadly substance abuse can be. Now then, this generation has more information, more wisdom and is easily brighter & more educated then any in human history; & yet you would still insist on destroying your bodies & relationships with shit, standing on your less then shaky soapbox, and preaching your self justifying bullshit (& I'm the preachy hypocrite!?).

- As we did to our parents, & you've done to us; your children will see what you you do, they are not blind, nor stupid, Lord knows you weren't. Your children will shake their heads at you and call you, "hypocrite" under their breath, behind your back, & they will be right. Every time I've smoked a cigarette, you were right to say it of me! A man found metal ore, he learned to refine it, blend it with still other metals & strengthen it for his purpose. Men went on to exploit the flora & fauna he shares with his planet. He found ways to manipulate his world to experience all kinds of pleasure, & inflict all sorts of destruction. Whether your "smoking", toking, snorting, popping, huffing, banging anyone who'll have you, drinking, injecting, or just plain masking your pain in denial; you can no longer make any argument for your abusive, self destructive behavior; anymore then you can say you have the right, after a long day to stick a pistol in your mouth & pull the trigger.

- A human first exploited the elements, to create gun powder; humans first mined ore for metals, & eventually combined these things. Humans discovered the effects of spoiled cabbage, & pitted fruits to provide humanity with cyanide, as much as humanity has provided itself with fermented drink, & opiates. To claim one is "better for you", then another is to admit you have no time to educate yourself with an opinion.

- Self abusive, & self destructive behaviour is just that. When one's own family & children suffer as a result it's tragic, to say the least. I'm sure I've pissed some people off, certainly got some opinions flying, but know this: I have alcohol in my home. I encourage those in my life, who have the healthy ability to do so, to enjoy using it. I've found recently that there are medications, I will have no choice but to use. I feel that there are many who have the strength, & capability to use these substances with no ill effects. Yet there are far more, & most know who they are, that have no business playing with fire. I've told my children their whole lives, no one ever eats just one potato chip. Anyone who says they can is full of shit. Simply said, if your gonna try one, your gonna try 'em all. Not even sure why this one came out today, probably shoulda left it in my head. I gotta get back to laundry, Sara's home, she'll need to tell about her day, & then the kids get home. Hopefully they'll be playin music, funny how time, effort & practice turn into genuine talent! Hell, anyway there it is, hopefully it'll get ya bitchin }:)

Love, S.

- It's God's Way of Sayin, "You Ain't Dead Yet" !

- K, So it's been a while, no real surprise. The last how many posts have started that way, with the same old bullshit promise, "this time it'll be different", "this time I'm back to stay". Fuck me dry, you think I would have recognized the pattern by now right. Thick as pea soup on my Canadian porch in January!

- But this time I have a reason, there is one person I hope I reach, one person who has touched me so deeply in recent years, I have to honor those efforts. So, with keyboard on my lap, & something different in my heart, I write. "The Heroin Diaries" certainly made me gasp, even recoil. Yet, had I been a twenty something rock god with bottomless pockets, loosed on the innocents of L.A. would I have been any different? Would I have survived? Honestly, I don't believe I would have. I'm far too stupid, self deprecating? Sure. Truth? As I know it! My little sobriety calculator tells me that 5238 days ago I started this journey of self discovery, & as I sit here today I know me a little better, & I can tell you that my circumstances fit me very well. I came close enough to death in those dark years, sometimes so close that I can still recall the stench. That's what the diaries did for me. They gave me a kindred spirit a world away, whose hand & pen I knew all too well. Words, sentence structures & thought patterns that sent chills down my back, & I was happy, I was glad I'd never left my little shit hole in Southern Ontario, because his hand spelled out what I was saved from. His closet was my hell, on the other side of a continent. Such bravery, such brutal honesty, my tears celebrated for him, and gave a rousing "Fuck-You" to those who were too scared to participate.

- Today, about two hours ago, he laid a challenge. This Is Gonna Hurt, there is no doubt. But pain has been a constant companion hasn't it. One of them old timers that tried to get me to go back to "Kingston" & visit the penitentiaries there, would say "Pain is your higher power's way of letting you know you ain't dead yet". You know why I Fuck'n hate that old timer bullshit? For the exact same reason I banged heads with my father, my mother, or any one of the four amazing sisters I have today, because 9 out of 10 times, they're right; and that always means I'm wrong. When I'm wrong that means I have to let go of something, & anything I've ever let go of has claw marks all over it!

- My sister's & I said good-bye to our mother this past February. After the long, gruelling 7 plus year process called "Alzheimer's" had it's way with her, she was able to let go and finally re-unite with Reg, our father. Now, some 26yrs after losing our father, with both parents gone, my sisters & I find ourselves closer then any one of us could have ever imagined possible. United by loss? Certainly. Without question a unique, and unexpected bond that none of us will soon take for granted. Trust me when I note that as we revel in our new found connection, we individually shake our heads, & pinch ourselves! This is the letting go I speak of. "This", is what's "Gonna Hurt".

- At 42, I look back & see the wreckage, the outstretched hands I swatted away. I can feel the hatred & seething anger that set up shop with no intention of ever leaving. From age 7, to age 12 the 'victim' of molestation. I was the guy you'd give your van keys to, I'd run & buy batteries , & help you figure out the new "wireless" system. The next day I'd be the guy telling you "yeah, that chick looked clean". I was bitter, angry & hanging on your coat tails, because I was too afraid to let anyone see me. There's thousands like me, nameless "wannabes" that were happy to fetch a mike stand, or run to the van to replace a shorted out cord. Letting it all go, it happened. I sat with my niece, day 2, maybe day 4 of the two week marathon at mom's bedside. A nurse had brought fresh blankets to the recliners we were sharing (for beds), & Amanda and I settled across the room from each other. "Tell me all about being engaged", I started, & as she began, uncle Stacey took the floor & dominated the next 45min. of conversation. Bless these amazing people I call nieces & nephews. They all claim to love me so deeply, but they must be sick of my soap box bullshit by now! Here's the switch, although she did a tonne of nodding, & gave me too many, "uh, huh's" to count. This lovely young lady, just beginning her life, allowed me to find my way through my own crap, & in an instant, 25yrs. of bitterness, anger, resentment, & regret vanished. It has been the single biggest moment of these last 14yrs. in recovery. It was amazing, I instantly felt free to love in ways I've yet to begin to explore. To be sure, my 4 sisters are only the beginning.

- Since then; I have been "back", to mom & dad's grave side. I've searched for some grandiose epiphany, & none came. That was until last night. As I read, I recalled Heroin Diaries, & my own experiences. I remember the Detroit show & being convinced if I could just talk to you, or Vince, I could come on the road, plug in your cords & marry a Rock & Roll Cinderella, Disney's happy ever "stoner". I swear I can remember hearing that radio interview from T.O. & spent many a party trying to recount it only to be called full of shit. As I read, & once again followed you through your game of solitaire; I had it, the epiphany. You see, these last two weeks I've been away. "Back" home, at mom's grave, helping sisters, & family. Watching our youngest practice his card tricks via "Face Time", looking for this spiritual breakthrough, & here it was, right at home. The middle boy & I helped the youngest find 3 of his missing cards just this past weekend. Here; at home. Here my "wireless" keyboard waits, dusty, neglected. Here at home, my best friend waits for me, my wife Sara, beautiful loving mother, and inspiration to so many. Here at home I got it pretty good. I'm 'semi' retired, our boys, & their friends make music happen every day, the arts & creation & passion are all here. I just needed a "Fuckin Wake Up Call".

- This is what the new book, & the new music did for me, thanks Frank, take good care of him Katherine, we need him around for a long while to come !

- That Felt Great, }:) Love, S.