I am here, modeling my plus size designer dress (It was just shipped today to hubby's office). Funny you should ask! (I love this company from San Francisco called Igigi). I wear a 12, but that's still plus size, I guess! Ack. Life's too short to diet. I miss you, and think of you often! xxx
Hi Rachel! How wonderful to see you!!! Grace informed me of your post. I've been missing you so much. Rachel, we ARE always with you, dear. Looking forward to seeing your next post. See you SOON!
Our "Attic" group on Facebook informed me you're blogging again. I think I'm down to once a month, if that lol! You have me beat! Hope all is well! xo Molly
Hi Rachel, I’m glad to hear from you again. Here is what I’m up to these days, how about you? Here are my latest Facebook entires.
Fleeting Moments - Shoo - Go Away
Have you ever wondered why it is, when you are in the midst of a serious thought, and all of a sudden your mind decides to wander and you have a fleeting thought? It happens to the best of us, so don’t feel out of place if it’s happened to you. We all have fleeting thoughts; they seem to come from nowhere.
We have so many fleeing thoughts floating around in our minds, it’s not a wonder that those thoughts, sometimes, slip out during awkward moments. With so many fleeting thoughts roaming freely through our minds, it’s behooves me to wonder why they don’t just take over. I wonder how it is, when I’m in a serious thought, that I can just “Shoo” them all away with the wave of my hand -- no fleeting thoughts today.
Here’s what I like about fleeting thoughts - sometimes they say a lot. Yeah, fleeting thoughts, where would we be without them? We’d be stuck in a serious world, without a fleeting chance that we’d ever get out alive.
Now when it comes to fleeting thoughts, we all have some beauties floating in our minds, but we also have other fleeting thoughts as well. Sometimes they can be as quick as a flash. Sometimes lightning fast. They seldom linger.
And then, of course, there are those special moments. Those fleeting moments when you feel in touch with yourself, and feel that you are “in love” with the whole world, “in love” with the entire planet and everything beyond the moon and the sun, and beyond the stars and the galaxies, beyond and beyond until we are one with the universe and all that ever is and all that ever was. You know, when that fleeting thought drops in from out of nowhere, it’s good to take a deep breath and come back to reality.
There is no way one can, “love the whole world,” let alone the entire creation. This planet is too big to be loved. At best, perhaps one half of it could be loved. But, the idea of being in love with half of this world still boggles the mind. No matter how you divide the planet, I think I would be dealt some doubts. So half is out. We have to find something smaller than half. I don’t think it’s plausible to love half of this planet. We need a reality check.
Reality check: This is what concerns me. If I don’t love half the planet, then by definition anything bigger is out of my reach! I feel sorry for the universe for I cannot say that I love thee. I’m sorry Mercury, Venus and Mars, I’m sorry Neptune and all the stars, I hear you calling but you cannot come in.
I have another concern, a major concern about the Universe, and it is simply this: That it proves to be nothing more than art, “a massive piece of art; a spectacular work in progress.” That’s all it turned out to be! And that’s all it was ever meant to be. It was just another dramatic work of art in progress.
Oh well, it was fun being a part of it all, I suppose, it was fun while it lasted. I hope it turns out all right. Actually, I hope it turns out better than just all right, I hope it’s a classic. Yeah, I really do. I think if I knew this universe would become a classic, I think I would be less concerned about it. Knowing that my small role, as insignificant as it seems, but nevertheless, knowing that my role was found in a classic, I think that would be dreamy and out of this world, and that’s good enough for me.
The Universe is not silent; it is not a silent place. It has vibes, and it hums as it travels through space. With flashes of light and heat and God knows what, it travels through time. Gamma rays come to mind, puffy white clouds, soot and grime. The Universe is abuzz and it beckons and it calls from afar. There are no strings attached, it says.
I was thinking about this the other day, and I decided to give David Lynch a call. I wanted to hear his thoughts about this matter. I wondered if he had any idea what the Universe might sound like, if we had the means to hear it. Turns out David was thinking along the same lines but he had taken it further. For him, it was beyond the mere thought process, he had actually dived into the realm.
I said, “David, if it’s true that the Universe is not a silent place, what do you suppose the whole shebang might conceivably sound like? Do you think it might be orchestral, or sentimental, or important, or what? Do you think there might be a message or something? Do you think the Creator has a voice in it?
David said, “The Universe is aloof, it is cold and remote, and it sounds like what you are about to hear. It’s best heard, if you are in costume and wearing the proper gear. The Universe is a very big place, enormous, and it has a very big sound, so crank it up! You have to play it loud.”
“With so many fleeting thoughts roaming freely through our minds, it’s behooves me to wonder why they don’t just take over.” WTF, I need an editor, someone I can trust. Self-editing really sucks.
I think it would be great if you and Pete would duet Sir Walter Raleigh on youtube! You guys are awesome, keep up the good work. You are both fantastic artists.
Hi Rachel, I know you have more important and meaningful things to do, than to spend a lot of time in here, in this blogs’ sphere, because everybody knows this is nowhere. So as always, I’ll try to be brief, because I believe brief is good. I don’t get paid by the word, so I try to use words sparsely, my theory being, hey, if I don’t get paid for the word I’ll be damned if I’m going to use it. It can sit on the sidelines and rot for all eternity for all I care. Words are a dime a dozen! But to be fair, some words are worth a nickel or more all on their own, and some words are totally worthless, they’re not worth a shit.
Okay, I’ll try to be brief Rachel, I’m here to entertain YOU. You know, trade shoes for a while. My hobby is writing, I’ve always enjoyed good writing - Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut, Carl Sagan, Faulkner, Hemmingway, the King James Bible (old and new) George Orwell, Gilbert Sorrentino, and then just for fun, Joseph Wambaugh and Stephen King. Because I’m pretty much useless at everything, and I wanted a hobby (don’t we all) I decided “creative writing” was the only thing I might enjoy. So about 20 years ago I took a creative writing (evening) course at a local college. What an eye opener that was! The whole thing was quite ludicrous, tedious, and boring. It wasn’t worth a shit.
So anyway, the reason I come here is because, like I’ve already said, and because you’re intelligent. And you like music, and are capable of creating music, so that’s a good sign. I write for men, but I aim my work at women, ha-ha, why am I kidding myself! I write for me - pure and simple, but I feel I do my best work when I write with SOMEONE in mind. You can’t write for the whole world, you have to whittle it down. And right now, it’s down to you.
So here’s what I’ve been up to. I hope you take a few minutes and spend it with me. And if you do, I hope you enjoy yourself, I hope you feel entertained, and I hope you take something away with you. Perhaps a new notion -- that would be nice. But to be honest, I’d settle for anything, even a grimace.
Sincerely, Tommy DisCool
...to be continued
HERE'S PAUL BRANDT
http://youtu.be/-Lo9If8zYm0
PS; can you write like that Rachel? Can you replace that lead guitar with electric violins? I bet you can, but you might not want to. Yeah, like do you have to be mad to write those notes for a violinist? I wonder if Shakespeare ever bent the odd quill? Or poked a period right through the paper right after he exclaimed or shouted? I often wonder that.
PPS; I suppose if you were to write some angry violin notes, but you weren’t really angry yourself, I suppose that would just be acting. So like I was wondering, Rachel, if you could act out some of those notes. Know what I’m sayin’? Please say you don’t, but on second read, “maybe.” Just maybe.
Hi Rachel, we've been thinking of you a lot these past few days, seeing Pete on the tv. When he was on CBS the other day being interviewed in his studio, we thought the Tea Ghost might make an appearance. Would love to hear what you have been up to and if you have any music projects in the works. Miss you.
Hi Rachel, This is casesequence. I just finished Pete's book last night and enjoyed reading about you and ITA and Attic Jams. In fact, right now I'm listening to I Can Fly on the Attic Jam cd. It made me miss you. Thanks for doing ITA and inviting us into your life for a time. I have fond memories of those shows. Anyway, hope you are well and making music!
Just got done working on some of my own music, and having my first drink of the night listening to your station on last.fm. Beautiful, and I think I am starting to hear a bit of Pete in your songs ;)
HI RACHEL, THIS IS CALLED, DEAR GIANNI & I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY THIS.
Dear Gianni, here’s a riff you might enjoy - I don’t think anybody owns it. I think it’s up for grabs! Provided you take that riff somewhere it ain’t never been before, of course. It’s what you layer on top of it that most matters. It occurs at the 1:20 mark and it sounds like Duane Eddy, but it doesn’t have to sound that way, of course. It’s the layering that counts, that’s where you have to put two and two together and come up with five, if you want to hit pay dirt.
Now when it comes to Peter Gunn, forget about it.
You can’t go anywhere near that riff without getting caught.
Sorry about that delete, some last minute restructuring, the post was a mess. Allow me to try again.
Hi Rachel, this is called “SOMEDAYS.” It’s a work in progress:
I’m not saying you need a laugh on every page, because laughter does not come cheap, nor does skullduggery for the masses. I’m not saying that. Here’s what I’m saying. There are 365 days in a year and some of them are filled with laughter. Some are filled with fraught. Some are bright and breezy, some are not. Some days are dark, when the sky tears itself apart, and the darkness pours in. Some days are tight and scheduled, some as loose as a well-known duck. Daffy that is. Some days are a pleasure, a treasure, and a lot of luck. Some days are stone cold and some days are hot. Some days fly swiftly while others simply flutter. Some days are hard to remember. I remember a few of my own, vividly, perhaps a baker’s dozen, but I’m not sure about the others. All in a dream, boy, it was all in a dream.
... to be continued
Tommy DisCool Wednesday, October 23, 2012
This is called, “Laughter And Wote.”
I’ve been following a hometown group, Walk Off The Earth, for the past little while. I leave them little comments, just like I do here, except I do it on Facebook. It’s easy to do, and it’s all in fun.
Every day I go searching for laughter, and sometimes I find it in the strangest places. I don’t mean to say that I’m always successful in my search, no, sometimes I come up lame. I find that some laughter is egregious, sometimes unforgiving, sometimes too reckless, sometimes out of place. I find some laughter to be subtle or serious when at play. There are days that are solemn, of course, and there’s no time for play. And then, and then, there are days that seem to be precious, but they seldom stay. I don’t know why that is.
Here’s something I wrote for WOTE - I think it’s funny and I hope you do too. Because it would be nice to carry on and think to myself, hey, you made Rachel laugh today. You see, it’s the little things that really matter. To wit:
Well I guess I’m going to have to step up to the plate and part with some hard earned money by the sounds of it. Not a problem. The way I see it, for the price of a small pizza I get the whole WOTE, the entire cast. Sarah, all by herself, tapped me for about $27 a while ago for a numbered album (numero 209) and I haven’t taken the cellophane off yet and for good reason. I don’t own a turntable. It’s a keepsake I guess. I told my wife it was an investment but she’s still pissed about the wings-and-ribs she wanted to order. I explained the economics to her. You can’t spend the same money in two different places, I said, it doesn’t work that way. So I’ll download your latest effort from iTunes when it’s available and pay for it discreetly and quietly then listen to it on my headphones. Mum’s the word!
PS; if you call to thank me for my purchase and my wife answers, just hang up or tell her you’re doing a survey or something. Thank you for your understanding. Here’s Steve with a decent call and response.
Hi Rachel! Yes, still way out there apparently. Was fun to read about you and Pete in Who I Am, I felt like a voyeuristic prude! Hope you have been writing some more tunes for us and having fun with Pete and the dogs. Will send you both something fun for Christmas.xo
Hi Rachel, I just dropped in to let you know that I haven’t been totally idle the last little while. I’ve been jiving with some of the local artsy crowd and trying to be creative, thoughtful and imaginative. In other words, “I’m just having some fun.” I hope the same applies to you, I hope you’re having fun. If you find fun to be too strong a word, change it to content. In other words, I hope you’re feeling content.
Does anyone, in their right mind, believe that someone in Iran, an Iranian, would actually fire a missile loaded with a nuclear warhead at Israel, nay, at Jerusalem, and not expect a massive retaliation?
Nobody in their right mind would ever start a nuclear war with Israel, and here’s the reason why. Israel is such a tiny little country - take a look at the map - I mean we could drop Israel into Lake Superior, nay, Lake Simcoe, and except for the splash, nobody would be the wiser. Don’t bother checking the actual size of Israel, or Lake Superior or Lake Simcoe, this is just allegory. Just take my word for it. The only point I want to make is this: Israel does not occupy a lot of space on the planet.
So, just a few well placed nuclear strikes, it wouldn’t take many, just a few, and the entire State of Israel would become inhabitable because of contamination from radiation fallout, and I haven’t yet mentioned the nuclear Blast! We’ve all seen pictures from Japan.
Now, with a nuclear strike on Israel as the premise, with the premise being that Iran obtained and then successfully fired missiles with nuclear warheads that landed in Israel, what might be the response from Israel? I don’t know, I’m not sure that anybody knows, but I bet there is a plan.
Fact or Fiction: Israel has a large nuclear arsenal and the means to deliver a fatal blow.
I don’t know if Israel has a large nuclear arsenal and the means to deliver a fatalistic blow to any enemy, as some have claimed. But let’s assume, for argument sake, that it does. That would not surprise me in the least. And the reason is this: Because I believe Israel, as sure as hell, has a mean nuclear arsenal, there is no doubt in my mind. I say that because, I do not believe in some supernatural world, where hell is an eternity, no, I believe that hell has its limits and will be found right here on earth, if Israel were to come under a nuclear attack. And so I repeat, there is no doubt in my mind, whatsoever, that Israel has the capability of reigning terror on the entire Arab world, including Mecca, and Iran if need be.
A nuclear war with Israel is unthinkable, or at least it should be. Yet it can be thought out, as we have just seen. I think Pakistan, India, and China, would remain neutral during such a catastrophe. I think they would just kind of stand-back, if you will, until the whole thing was over, and then go in and clean-up the mess -- as best they can. As for me, and everybody else here in Canada and the USA, she’s all yours! Now let us pray.
Lake Simcoe - 325 square miles State of Israel - 8,000 square miles Lake Superior - 32,000 square miles
I sat down with the Israeli Minister of Defense and Chief of Command, one Moshe Dayan, and we discussed a number of military options involving many different scenarios. I came away thinking, wow, this guy is brilliant and he’s also really generous. He showed me numerous military plans that Israel has for many different occasions. I said do you have a ‘plan of defense’ if Iran were to attack the State of Israel with nuclear bombs. No, nothing worth mentioning! he shouted, we only have a ‘plan of revenge.’ The retaliation, I said. Yes the retaliation, as you call it, he said. Are we allowed to discuss it? I asked. Who is we? he asked in return. You and me, I said. Sure, he said, why not? Okay, I said, let’s get right down to it. Do you have a ‘plan of revenge’ if Iran were to attack your country with nuclear bombs?
You can bet your bottom dollar that we do, he said. Can you provide any details? I asked. Well, he said, we have something we call, The Seven Commands, and when it comes to Iran we employ all seven of them. Can you be more specific? I asked. I certainly can, he said, and so he began.
The first thing we do is the countdown, he said. Ten nine eight seven and so on, until we get to zero. Then we give the command to fire. This is known as The First Command. We fire missiles loaded with the dirtiest bombs we have on hand and land them smack dab in the middle of Mecca - Kaboom - kaboom! And then maybe, depending on circumstances, we fire another dirty little bastard, or Big Newt as we like to call them, just for good measure - Kaboom! Then we eye Iran, and await the next command.
The next command is entitled, ‘Lock Sample and Load.’ This is also known as, The Second Command, and it has been in place for some time. The Second Command notifies a number of units to prepare to fire. There are Seven Commands in total, and the MEP or Middle-East-Plan utilizes all of them. A nuclear war would not resemble the Six Day war or the Yon Kippur war with its numerous offensive and counteroffensive maneuvers, he said. A nuclear war is much faster and more ferocious. It all takes place within a few hours at most, pushing buttons, and then it is over. Yes, I said, I understand.
Chapter Three - THE RIDDLE Chapter Four - THE AFTERMATH Chapter Five - THE WHITE LIGHT Chapter Six - THE GOOGOLPLEX Chapter Seven - THE LITTLE SHYSTER
UNBELIEVABLE -- Talk about politically correct. This is ridiculous!
The famous children’s poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” has fallen victim to political correctness, according to Ecanadanow! TWO ENTIRE LINES have been omitted from the famous children’s poem.
Ecanadanow claims that, “the person who made the changes is Pamela McColl, a Canadian author who says the lines were omitted to save lives.” REALLY, that is what she said.
Here is a portion of the original poem; I didn’t want to type the whole thing. But this is the portion that was changed! See if you can identify the TWO LINES that have been eliminated from this wonderful poem.
OKAY; now please read the poem and type your answer in the reply box -- and good luck!
I didn’t get it right the first time. I thought it had to do with merry dimples and a cherry like nose, but I was wrong! So, don’t feel bad if you get it wrong too, just take your best guess and type it in the reply.
Which two lines have been eliminated and removed?
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse..... ............................................................
Down the chimney St.Nicholas came with a bound, He was dressed all in furs, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow. With a stump for a leg, he had stepped on a bomb Delivering presents, in Iraq and Hong Kong.
He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself... ......................................................
sorry took so long Rachel, glad to see you are staying busy. saw you in a YouTube video off stage watching a show, Pete looking happy on the road. Enjoyed the show in Pittsburgh, still looking for more from you with ASH. Hope all is well with you. Hugh
WOW Rachel, Pete and Roger were really putting out in New York. They put on a fabulous show. Roger took me by surprise with a powerful voice and a youthful exuberance. And Pete was nothing short of astonishing on guitar. Did you make the trip with Pete and the gang? Personally, I would have spent the day in the English countryside, but some people would choose to spend the day in New York.
I’ve been modestly active the last little while, just having fun as usual, trying to stay keen, trying to enjoy what time I have left here on this planet. The end game is near; I can feel its approach. I want to be young again. I want to see Justin Bieber continue to grow and prosper, I want to outlive Mick Jagger, Lord knows I deserve it, and I’d like to get it right, the meaning of life, before I take off. I don’t want to venture into the unknown. I want to know where I’m going, whether it’s up or down.
I’ve reached that stage in life, when making a deal with the Devil seems like an attractive option. The problem I’m having with that at the moment is this: The Bastard never returns my calls!
The noise in my head is amplified at night when all is quiet and my head hits the pillow. Tinnitus! Anyone with my condition might think they were being blasted with high pitched signals from Aliens in outer space. Signals designed to drive a person insane. One might think that, but it wouldn’t be wise.
I don’t feel like writing anymore, but I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not ready for that yet. So, I’m going to listen to some music until I begin to feel groggy, and then I’ll give it a shot.
There was a chariot racing in a Roman stadium, and on the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel sat a fly. As a great dust arose from the pounding of the horses' hooves and from the turning of the wheels, the fly exclaimed, "Oh what a mighty dust I create!" (Aesop)
Dear Rachel, I like to live in an agitated state! Given a preference, it’s agitated all the way. It seems to me, that only when I’m agitated, I feel that all is real. Coffee and cigarettes are a must, for without them, where would I be? Crawling in the subjugated sectors of my mind, that’s where I’d be! Crawling through the creases and the crevasses that lead to nowhere. Chained to the inner walls, my destiny is to die.
Caffeine, nicotine, and codeine when I can’t stop coughing, that’s it for me - stimulants - and on the downside, alcohol and marijuana.
Alcohol will slow down the firing of the neurons, and cause them to fire out of order in a haphazard way. In other words it messes with the mind, it distorts things. And for no good reason that I know of, it weakens your inhibitions. It is kryptonite for some, dynamite, while in others it creates a euphoric fatigue which can lead some dudes into the semi-hard league. They can’t get a rock-solid erection, too much to drink. Alcohol doesn’t like kids!
Now marijuana, and here’s where it get’s interesting. Let me tell you a little story! But first off, let me say this: marijuana is a naturally grown weed here on Mother Earth, why, I don’t know, anymore than I know why catnip exists? Mother Nature - feline friendly, I suppose. And she’s not amiss when it comes to man. Mother Nature has a plan.
Marijuana is not a hallucinogen although there are times when it can cause some people to become paranoid or moonstruck. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut that has landed on the moon. You and your partner, Buddy, just the two of you, sitting in a space capsule that has safely landed. Now let’s say that Buddy decides it’s time for some relaxation after a successful trip and a safe landing. So he rolls a joint and shares it with you, and paranoia sets in. Your mind begins to imagine all kinds of strange things, and one of those strange things is that Buddy has suddenly turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon rocks -- Wham! You just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Nice try! Think again batman." (The words are mine, I have elaborated, but the joke belongs to Jack Handy)
When it comes to man, Mother Nature is at her best. When she ran out of natural drugs, she taught man how to build laboratories and concoct God knows what. She did it through evolution, it’s an old ploy. It’s been done throughout the universe, time and time again. Marijuana was meant for man, but Hobbits like it too. Show me a Hobbit that isn’t on grass, and I’ll show you a ladder that leads to Heaven. It can’t be done.
I know a woman that cut a man’s hair and zapped all of his strength, she calls herself Mariah. Now some of you may have thought I was going to say, Delilah. Oh yeah, I remember her from the Bible - that was Samson’s babe. A real doll she was, that Delilah. Her mannerisms and actions were classic - noir - she belongs on every dark street corner beneath every broken street lamp standing in the rain. She zapped him of all his strength, then she called for back-up, she was a spy. Some guys came and took Samson away in chains, and then they gouged his eyes out. Now Samson blind as a bat, fought back and regained his strength. Well, to make a long story short - he tore down a temple in a blind fit of rage; that was his comeback.
Now I don’t know about you, but I think Samson would have been better off if he’d never met Delilah. Fuck the temple and give him his eyes back in order that he might see that which so befuddled him. Samson was a fool. He certainly was no Isaac - by the hand of God he was saved.
Still here, sorry I missed your post. Think I was away for a month visiting family. Hope you are doing well. I was opining that you had a part in the score for the Olympics. Did you ever get you music library re-stocked? We have a large bookcase (floor to ceiling) of sheet music and anthologies from my father's estate. He was a pretty good piano player - if you would have any interest & have an agent stateside, maybe we could send some of it your way. Do miss your "Oh HI" but don't blame anyone for bugging out of social media these days. Cheers! Dave
Hi Rachel, I haven’t been doing much of anything lately, how about you? Mostly I’m playing around on Facebook just having fun writing little flirtations, or whatever you want to call it. Short stories, little quips, little rants and little raves, maybe even the odd poem, oh, and online newspapers, I like to mouth-off to people that comment in there. That’s what I’ve been doing.
I wrote a little dream sequence about you and Pete and hey, I think the gang was all there, a real dream! I only remember a handful of dreams, funny I should dream about you, and remember it.
Rachel, if you’d like to read my little dream about you, I’m Tom De Bona on Facebook, click, click, click, and you’re halfway there. It comes with a picture by Vincent van Gogh. Just scroll down to where it says: THIS IS CALLED - “RACHEL” (The picture is by far, my favourite van Gogh - totally convincing)
Actually, I’ll post the dream in here for you because I’d like you to read it, and you may not want to bother with my Facebook page. I keep Facebook open for everyone and anyone, and why not? I have nothing to hide. I suppose when it comes right down to it, my Facebook page is really just all about me! About what I like, and what I like not. About what I love and what I hate about art and religion, politics and war, superstition and what have you? Answer: Tommy DisCool.
HERE’S A TYPICAL POST - LOL - I HOPE YOU FIND IT AMUSING, because if I can’t make you smile, I have failed. I hope you see the “simple” wit to it. Even better, I hope you see the wit wasn’t quite that simple. Actually without the picture, the words don’t work as well, but here goes:
I see lots of people of Facebook taking bathroom mirror pictures of themselves, so I thought I would try it myself. This is my first try. I’m not very good at it. It’s harder than I thought. I guess there’s a knack to it. I’ll have to figure it out. I guess some people are better than others, when it comes to taking bathroom pictures. Maybe I should take a night course at Mohawk College on, “Bathroom Photography.” I took a course last year on, “How to Insert a Smile in Facebook.” I failed.
Hi Rachel, I dreamt about you last night. I say I dreamt about you, but actually you played a minor role. I seldom remember my dreams, perhaps half a dozen in any given year. The dream centered around Pete, nothing unusual there. It took place in a rustic, large room, the light was soft and yellow. It was a room in Pete’s house, the dream took place in England. But the room was not at all what I would have expected, it was rustic, like a big old home in Quebec, for goodness sake. It caught me by surprise. It’s something I would not have projected if I were awake. I remember glancing around and it was very nicely appointed. About all that was missing was a small bottle of maple syrup and a fiddle on the shelf in the corner.
I introduced myself to Pete. “Hi,” I said, “I’m Tommy D____.” Pete smiled and shook my hand. He was not a young man, but he was younger than he is today. I’m not good with age, but if I had to guess I would say, Pete was about fifty-four. More handsome and cordial than I imagined, and he exuberated a charm that I’ve rarely seen. Charming men are hard to find these days or so it seems. There were a handful of other people in the big room, Rachel, but you were not there.
I said to Pete, “I think you are a better guitar player today, better than you have ever been before. He shook his head in agreement. I don’t know how it is that I knew, what was going on inside Pete’s mind, but I knew that he did not think what I said was a compliment. He did not take it as such. No, he thought what I said was simply an acute observation. It’s funny how he thinks but that is not my concern. My concern was centered around you. I did not have the wherewithal to ask, “Where is Rachel?” for fear that I would not like the answer. It was profound. And as time went by, with Pete and I having a wonderful conversation about this and that, I began feeling a little anxious. There was no mention of you.
And then I heard a door opening. I was face to face with Pete, talking, and I heard a door open and close just off to my right. I turned and you were standing there, perhaps twenty-feet away. A distance sufficient that I could see all of you, without glancing up and down. You were pretty as I expected. You had put on a little weight, perhaps ten pounds. You looked great with the added weight. You were very casual, a homemade dress, nondescript, no makeup, just a nice pleasant glow. You spoke but I don’t remember what you said, just something polite and sociable. I’d like to say you said, something charming or witty, and perhaps you did, I just don’t remember. “Hi Rachel,” I do remember saying, “I’m Tommy D____.” I think we shook hands and you smiled.
The dream was warm and comfortable, there were other people in the room but I don’t remember whom. I guess they played no significant role although I believe they were vibrant with one another. On the wall, just to my left, there sat a great big guitar. It wasn’t a real guitar, it was a cardboard cutout. It didn’t hang on the wall, as you would expect a guitar to do; it seemed to be plastered there. It was a big cardboard guitar plastered to the wall. Pete and I stood looking up at that big guitar just to the left of us plastered on a big rustic wall. I’ll be damned if I can remember what we talked about while we were both focused on that big guitar. I think I said, “I like it,” and waited for Pete’s reply. I think he told me a short story about the guitar, but I can’t remember what he said, and who cares, it was only a dream.
Funny I should think of you and Pete in a dream. It makes no sense. And yet, it makes all the sense in this world. I suppose it’s something I’ll take away with me when I leave this planet.
PS; I wish there had been a mirror in the room. I have no idea what I looked like, whether I was tall, dark and handsome, or short, snotty and stout. Nor do I know how I wore my hair, for all I know, I could have been stark naked bald. I have no idea how I appeared to all the others, I hope I presented myself well.
PPS; I think I must have presented well, or I would not have this warm feeling about the encounter.
PPPS; If I had to present a mental picture of my dream, Rachael, I could do it in paragraphs, but it would take up a few pages, and I have no time for that. Think of it, as if you were van Gogh. Think of sunflowers and swirls of light and olive trees, think about flowers growing in a meadow, think of golden wheat flowing in a field, and think about “The Potato Eaters,” Vincent van Gogh’s master piece.
It’s all there in a dream.
Sincerely, Tommy D_____ Professor of Smozology A.K.A., Tommy DisCool, TOMMY Thomas Good, and Tom De Bona
What more can be said of my own persona?
There are times when I’d like to be known as T.D. Esq., and for no good reason, but I’ll not go into it at the moment.
Dear Rachel, I miss you. I love Classic Quad, and you! I am still clean and sober and loving life. You can write to me, if you ever get bored! I have a new life in theatre, dahling, and music! Still doing music therapy too with special people at a home near my home in Taipei. Anjoli is off to Uni in the UK next year! Time flies. Oh, and we adopted a gorgeous Golden Retriever last summer! Write when you can! Go see Silence - it will premiere at Cannes in May next year, if that's near you! I think I am in the opening scene- wearing a green velvet gown and holding a parasol! The gown was made in Rome! The year it was set in is 1630 ish! Take care!!! Love, Sue suesjoy@gmail.com
I'm still here!! how exciting to see you :).x
ReplyDeleteI'm still paying attention. How's it going?
ReplyDeleteWelcome back! I hope your sojourn away was as fruitful as you wanted. Now, I gotta know: what's up?
ReplyDeleteRobin
Yeppers! howdy from Tucson!
ReplyDeleteWelcome back!
ReplyDeleteHere... quietly ready for....?
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, I'm here, too. Welcome back in blogland. Hope all is OK in your life. Stefan xx
ReplyDeleteWhat's going on? Coming to New York?
ReplyDeleteRachel!!!!
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy to hear from you! How's everything??
Elenaxxx
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHuge smile!!!
DeleteYes indeed, most definitely. Hello there Rachel!
ReplyDelete-Maria
I am here, modeling my plus size designer dress (It was just shipped today to hubby's office). Funny you should ask! (I love this company from San Francisco called Igigi). I wear a 12, but that's still plus size, I guess! Ack. Life's too short to diet.
ReplyDeleteI miss you, and think of you often! xxx
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHello Rachel! Always good to hear from you. :-)
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel!
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel,
ReplyDeleteYep I am here. :)
So glad to see you posted
Hi Rachel! How wonderful to see you!!!
ReplyDeleteGrace informed me of your post.
I've been missing you so much.
Rachel, we ARE always with you, dear.
Looking forward to seeing your next post.
See you SOON!
Lost and found. My blog. Where for art thou,Rachel...
ReplyDeletewherefore...
DeleteYES!!
ReplyDeleteEverybody get your hands up. Rachel's doing a head count. ;-)
ReplyDeletePresent
ReplyDeleteHere!
ReplyDeleteOur "Attic" group on Facebook informed me you're blogging again. I think I'm down to once a month, if that lol! You have me beat! Hope all is well! xo Molly
ReplyDeleteHey Rachel, how are you!! Hope you are well, we have missed you.. So whats new in Rachel land?
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, I’m glad to hear from you again. Here is what I’m up to these days, how about you? Here are my latest Facebook entires.
ReplyDeleteFleeting Moments - Shoo - Go Away
Have you ever wondered why it is, when you are in the midst of a serious thought, and all of a sudden your mind decides to wander and you have a fleeting thought? It happens to the best of us, so don’t feel out of place if it’s happened to you. We all have fleeting thoughts; they seem to come from nowhere.
We have so many fleeing thoughts floating around in our minds, it’s not a wonder that those thoughts, sometimes, slip out during awkward moments. With so many fleeting thoughts roaming freely through our minds, it’s behooves me to wonder why they don’t just take over. I wonder how it is, when I’m in a serious thought, that I can just “Shoo” them all away with the wave of my hand -- no fleeting thoughts today.
Here’s what I like about fleeting thoughts - sometimes they say a lot. Yeah, fleeting thoughts, where would we be without them? We’d be stuck in a serious world, without a fleeting chance that we’d ever get out alive.
Now when it comes to fleeting thoughts, we all have some beauties floating in our minds, but we also have other fleeting thoughts as well. Sometimes they can be as quick as a flash. Sometimes lightning fast. They seldom linger.
And then, of course, there are those special moments. Those fleeting moments when you feel in touch with yourself, and feel that you are “in love” with the whole world, “in love” with the entire planet and everything beyond the moon and the sun, and beyond the stars and the galaxies, beyond and beyond until we are one with the universe and all that ever is and all that ever was. You know, when that fleeting thought drops in from out of nowhere, it’s good to take a deep breath and come back to reality.
There is no way one can, “love the whole world,” let alone the entire creation. This planet is too big to be loved. At best, perhaps one half of it could be loved. But, the idea of being in love with half of this world still boggles the mind. No matter how you divide the planet, I think I would be dealt some doubts. So half is out. We have to find something smaller than half. I don’t think it’s plausible to love half of this planet. We need a reality check.
Reality check: This is what concerns me. If I don’t love half the planet, then by definition anything bigger is out of my reach! I feel sorry for the universe for I cannot say that I love thee. I’m sorry Mercury, Venus and Mars, I’m sorry Neptune and all the stars, I hear you calling but you cannot come in.
ReplyDeleteI have another concern, a major concern about the Universe, and it is simply this: That it proves to be nothing more than art, “a massive piece of art; a spectacular work in progress.” That’s all it turned out to be! And that’s all it was ever meant to be. It was just another dramatic work of art in progress.
Oh well, it was fun being a part of it all, I suppose, it was fun while it lasted. I hope it turns out all right. Actually, I hope it turns out better than just all right, I hope it’s a classic. Yeah, I really do. I think if I knew this universe would become a classic, I think I would be less concerned about it. Knowing that my small role, as insignificant as it seems, but nevertheless, knowing that my role was found in a classic, I think that would be dreamy and out of this world, and that’s good enough for me.
TOMMY
http://youtu.be/1ya_pDUY87Y
The Universe is not silent; it is not a silent place. It has vibes, and it hums as it travels through space. With flashes of light and heat and God knows what, it travels through time. Gamma rays come to mind, puffy white clouds, soot and grime. The Universe is abuzz and it beckons and it calls from afar. There are no strings attached, it says.
ReplyDeleteI was thinking about this the other day, and I decided to give David Lynch a call. I wanted to hear his thoughts about this matter. I wondered if he had any idea what the Universe might sound like, if we had the means to hear it. Turns out David was thinking along the same lines but he had taken it further. For him, it was beyond the mere thought process, he had actually dived into the realm.
I said, “David, if it’s true that the Universe is not a silent place, what do you suppose the whole shebang might conceivably sound like? Do you think it might be orchestral, or sentimental, or important, or what? Do you think there might be a message or something? Do you think the Creator has a voice in it?
David said, “The Universe is aloof, it is cold and remote, and it sounds like what you are about to hear. It’s best heard, if you are in costume and wearing the proper gear. The Universe is a very big place, enormous, and it has a very big sound, so crank it up! You have to play it loud.”
http://youtu.be/PzgAIeRBBbk
“With so many fleeting thoughts roaming freely through our minds, it’s behooves me to wonder why they don’t just take over.” WTF, I need an editor, someone I can trust. Self-editing really sucks.
ReplyDeleteI think it would be great if you and Pete would duet Sir Walter Raleigh on youtube! You guys are awesome, keep up the good work. You are both fantastic artists.
ReplyDeleteWe miss you!!!
ReplyDeleteholy fucking crap, YES!
ReplyDeletehola
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, I know you have more important and meaningful things to do, than to spend a lot of time in here, in this blogs’ sphere, because everybody knows this is nowhere. So as always, I’ll try to be brief, because I believe brief is good. I don’t get paid by the word, so I try to use words sparsely, my theory being, hey, if I don’t get paid for the word I’ll be damned if I’m going to use it. It can sit on the sidelines and rot for all eternity for all I care. Words are a dime a dozen! But to be fair, some words are worth a nickel or more all on their own, and some words are totally worthless, they’re not worth a shit.
ReplyDeleteOkay, I’ll try to be brief Rachel, I’m here to entertain YOU. You know, trade shoes for a while. My hobby is writing, I’ve always enjoyed good writing - Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut, Carl Sagan, Faulkner, Hemmingway, the King James Bible (old and new) George Orwell, Gilbert Sorrentino, and then just for fun, Joseph Wambaugh and Stephen King. Because I’m pretty much useless at everything, and I wanted a hobby (don’t we all) I decided “creative writing” was the only thing I might enjoy. So about 20 years ago I took a creative writing (evening) course at a local college. What an eye opener that was! The whole thing was quite ludicrous, tedious, and boring. It wasn’t worth a shit.
So anyway, the reason I come here is because, like I’ve already said, and because you’re intelligent. And you like music, and are capable of creating music, so that’s a good sign. I write for men, but I aim my work at women, ha-ha, why am I kidding myself! I write for me - pure and simple, but I feel I do my best work when I write with SOMEONE in mind. You can’t write for the whole world, you have to whittle it down. And right now, it’s down to you.
So here’s what I’ve been up to. I hope you take a few minutes and spend it with me. And if you do, I hope you enjoy yourself, I hope you feel entertained, and I hope you take something away with you. Perhaps a new notion -- that would be nice. But to be honest, I’d settle for anything, even a grimace.
Sincerely,
Tommy DisCool
...to be continued
HERE'S PAUL BRANDT
http://youtu.be/-Lo9If8zYm0
PS; can you write like that Rachel? Can you replace that lead guitar with electric violins? I bet you can, but you might not want to. Yeah, like do you have to be mad to write those notes for a violinist? I wonder if Shakespeare ever bent the odd quill? Or poked a period right through the paper right after he exclaimed or shouted? I often wonder that.
PPS; I suppose if you were to write some angry violin notes, but you weren’t really angry yourself, I suppose that would just be acting. So like I was wondering, Rachel, if you could act out some of those notes. Know what I’m sayin’? Please say you don’t, but on second read, “maybe.” Just maybe.
Hi Rachel, we've been thinking of you a lot these past few days, seeing Pete on the tv. When he was on CBS the other day being interviewed in his studio, we thought the Tea Ghost might make an appearance. Would love to hear what you have been up to and if you have any music projects in the works. Miss you.
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel,
ReplyDeleteThis is casesequence. I just finished Pete's book last night and enjoyed reading about you and ITA and Attic Jams. In fact, right now I'm listening to I Can Fly on the Attic Jam cd. It made me miss you. Thanks for doing ITA and inviting us into your life for a time. I have fond memories of those shows. Anyway, hope you are well and making music!
Casey
Just got done working on some of my own music, and having my first drink of the night listening to your station on last.fm. Beautiful, and I think I am starting to hear a bit of Pete in your songs ;)
ReplyDeleteHI RACHEL, THIS IS CALLED, DEAR GIANNI & I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY THIS.
ReplyDeleteDear Gianni, here’s a riff you might enjoy - I don’t think anybody owns it. I think it’s up for grabs! Provided you take that riff somewhere it ain’t never been before, of course. It’s what you layer on top of it that most matters. It occurs at the 1:20 mark and it sounds like Duane Eddy, but it doesn’t have to sound that way, of course. It’s the layering that counts, that’s where you have to put two and two together and come up with five, if you want to hit pay dirt.
Now when it comes to Peter Gunn, forget about it.
You can’t go anywhere near that riff without getting caught.
http://youtu.be/I3AnULV8zP8
Where are you, Rachel? How is your life? Your music? How are the dogs? We miss you.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSorry about that delete, some last minute restructuring, the post was a mess. Allow me to try again.
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, this is called “SOMEDAYS.” It’s a work in progress:
I’m not saying you need a laugh on every page, because laughter does not come cheap, nor does skullduggery for the masses. I’m not saying that. Here’s what I’m saying. There are 365 days in a year and some of them are filled with laughter. Some are filled with fraught. Some are bright and breezy, some are not. Some days are dark, when the sky tears itself apart, and the darkness pours in. Some days are tight and scheduled, some as loose as a well-known duck. Daffy that is. Some days are a pleasure, a treasure, and a lot of luck. Some days are stone cold and some days are hot. Some days fly swiftly while others simply flutter. Some days are hard to remember. I remember a few of my own, vividly, perhaps a baker’s dozen, but I’m not sure about the others. All in a dream, boy, it was all in a dream.
... to be continued
Tommy DisCool
Wednesday, October 23, 2012
This is called, “Laughter And Wote.”
I’ve been following a hometown group, Walk Off The Earth, for the past little while. I leave them little comments, just like I do here, except I do it on Facebook. It’s easy to do, and it’s all in fun.
Every day I go searching for laughter, and sometimes I find it in the strangest places. I don’t mean to say that I’m always successful in my search, no, sometimes I come up lame. I find that some laughter is egregious, sometimes unforgiving, sometimes too reckless, sometimes out of place. I find some laughter to be subtle or serious when at play.
There are days that are solemn, of course, and there’s no time for play. And then, and then, there are days that seem to be precious, but they seldom stay. I don’t know why that is.
Here’s something I wrote for WOTE - I think it’s funny and I hope you do too. Because it would be nice to carry on and think to myself, hey, you made Rachel laugh today. You see, it’s the little things that really matter. To wit:
Well I guess I’m going to have to step up to the plate and part with some hard earned money by the sounds of it. Not a problem. The way I see it, for the price of a small pizza I get the whole WOTE, the entire cast. Sarah, all by herself, tapped me for about $27 a while ago for a numbered album (numero 209) and I haven’t taken the cellophane off yet and for good reason. I don’t own a turntable. It’s a keepsake I guess. I told my wife it was an investment but she’s still pissed about the wings-and-ribs she wanted to order. I explained the economics to her. You can’t spend the same money in two different places, I said, it doesn’t work that way. So I’ll download your latest effort from iTunes when it’s available and pay for it discreetly and quietly then listen to it on my headphones. Mum’s the word!
PS; if you call to thank me for my purchase and my wife answers, just hang up or tell her you’re doing a survey or something. Thank you for your understanding. Here’s Steve with a decent call and response.
http://youtu.be/SL1Z1ltTKcY
http://www.debsnorwegianelkhounds.zoomshare.com/files/Dogs/011.JPG
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel! Yes, still way out there apparently. Was fun to read about you and Pete in Who I Am, I felt like a voyeuristic prude! Hope you have been writing some more tunes for us and having fun with Pete and the dogs. Will send you both something fun for Christmas.xo
Hi Rachel, I just dropped in to let you know that I haven’t been totally idle the last little while. I’ve been jiving with some of the local artsy crowd and trying to be creative, thoughtful and imaginative. In other words, “I’m just having some fun.” I hope the same applies to you, I hope you’re having fun. If you find fun to be too strong a word, change it to content. In other words, I hope you’re feeling content.
ReplyDeleteHercules - Samson and Goliath (working title)
ReplyDeleteChapter One - THE INTERVIEW (War)
Does anyone, in their right mind, believe that someone in Iran, an Iranian, would actually fire a missile loaded with a nuclear warhead at Israel, nay, at Jerusalem, and not expect a massive retaliation?
Nobody in their right mind would ever start a nuclear war with Israel, and here’s the reason why. Israel is such a tiny little country - take a look at the map - I mean we could drop Israel into Lake Superior, nay, Lake Simcoe, and except for the splash, nobody would be the wiser. Don’t bother checking the actual size of Israel, or Lake Superior or Lake Simcoe, this is just allegory. Just take my word for it. The only point I want to make is this: Israel does not occupy a lot of space on the planet.
So, just a few well placed nuclear strikes, it wouldn’t take many, just a few, and the entire State of Israel would become inhabitable because of contamination from radiation fallout, and I haven’t yet mentioned the nuclear Blast! We’ve all seen pictures from Japan.
Now, with a nuclear strike on Israel as the premise, with the premise being that Iran obtained and then successfully fired missiles with nuclear warheads that landed in Israel, what might be the response from Israel? I don’t know, I’m not sure that anybody knows, but I bet there is a plan.
Fact or Fiction: Israel has a large nuclear arsenal and the means to deliver a fatal blow.
I don’t know if Israel has a large nuclear arsenal and the means to deliver a fatalistic blow to any enemy, as some have claimed. But let’s assume, for argument sake, that it does. That would not surprise me in the least. And the reason is this: Because I believe Israel, as sure as hell, has a mean nuclear arsenal, there is no doubt in my mind. I say that because, I do not believe in some supernatural world, where hell is an eternity, no, I believe that hell has its limits and will be found right here on earth, if Israel were to come under a nuclear attack. And so I repeat, there is no doubt in my mind, whatsoever, that Israel has the capability of reigning terror on the entire Arab world, including Mecca, and Iran if need be.
A nuclear war with Israel is unthinkable, or at least it should be. Yet it can be thought out, as we have just seen. I think Pakistan, India, and China, would remain neutral during such a catastrophe. I think they would just kind of stand-back, if you will, until the whole thing was over, and then go in and clean-up the mess -- as best they can. As for me, and everybody else here in Canada and the USA, she’s all yours! Now let us pray.
Lake Simcoe - 325 square miles
State of Israel - 8,000 square miles
Lake Superior - 32,000 square miles
http://youtu.be/pYvXp7_9GPE
Chapter Two - THE PLAN
ReplyDeleteI sat down with the Israeli Minister of Defense and Chief of Command, one Moshe Dayan, and we discussed a number of military options involving many different scenarios. I came away thinking, wow, this guy is brilliant and he’s also really generous. He showed me numerous military plans that Israel has for many different occasions. I said do you have a ‘plan of defense’ if Iran were to attack the State of Israel with nuclear bombs. No, nothing worth mentioning! he shouted, we only have a ‘plan of revenge.’ The retaliation, I said. Yes the retaliation, as you call it, he said. Are we allowed to discuss it? I asked. Who is we? he asked in return. You and me, I said. Sure, he said, why not? Okay, I said, let’s get right down to it. Do you have a ‘plan of revenge’ if Iran were to attack your country with nuclear bombs?
You can bet your bottom dollar that we do, he said. Can you provide any details? I asked. Well, he said, we have something we call, The Seven Commands, and when it comes to Iran we employ all seven of them. Can you be more specific? I asked. I certainly can, he said, and so he began.
The first thing we do is the countdown, he said. Ten nine eight seven and so on, until we get to zero. Then we give the command to fire. This is known as The First Command. We fire missiles loaded with the dirtiest bombs we have on hand and land them smack dab in the middle of Mecca - Kaboom - kaboom! And then maybe, depending on circumstances, we fire another dirty little bastard, or Big Newt as we like to call them, just for good measure - Kaboom! Then we eye Iran, and await the next command.
The next command is entitled, ‘Lock Sample and Load.’ This is also known as, The Second Command, and it has been in place for some time. The Second Command notifies a number of units to prepare to fire. There are Seven Commands in total, and the MEP or Middle-East-Plan utilizes all of them. A nuclear war would not resemble the Six Day war or the Yon Kippur war with its numerous offensive and counteroffensive maneuvers, he said. A nuclear war is much faster and more ferocious. It all takes place within a few hours at most, pushing buttons, and then it is over. Yes, I said, I understand.
Chapter Three - THE RIDDLE
Chapter Four - THE AFTERMATH
Chapter Five - THE WHITE LIGHT
Chapter Six - THE GOOGOLPLEX
Chapter Seven - THE LITTLE SHYSTER
...to be continued
http://youtu.be/vgjnHdsQFZM
CHAPTER THREE - The Riddle
ReplyDeleteUNBELIEVABLE -- Talk about politically correct. This is ridiculous!
The famous children’s poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” has fallen victim to political correctness, according to Ecanadanow! TWO ENTIRE LINES have been omitted from the famous children’s poem.
Ecanadanow claims that, “the person who made the changes is Pamela McColl, a Canadian author who says the lines were omitted to save lives.” REALLY, that is what she said.
Here is a portion of the original poem; I didn’t want to type the whole thing. But this is the portion that was changed! See if you can identify the TWO LINES that have been eliminated from this wonderful poem.
OKAY; now please read the poem and type your answer in the reply box -- and good luck!
I didn’t get it right the first time. I thought it had to do with merry dimples and a cherry like nose, but I was wrong! So, don’t feel bad if you get it wrong too, just take your best guess and type it in the reply.
Which two lines have been eliminated and removed?
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.....
............................................................
Down the chimney St.Nicholas came with a bound,
He was dressed all in furs, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
With a stump for a leg, he had stepped on a bomb
Delivering presents, in Iraq and Hong Kong.
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself...
......................................................
http://youtu.be/cEkZK9NZGFg
sorry took so long Rachel, glad to see you are staying busy. saw you in a YouTube video off stage watching a show, Pete looking happy on the road. Enjoyed the show in Pittsburgh, still looking for more from you with ASH. Hope all is well with you. Hugh
ReplyDeleteWOW Rachel, Pete and Roger were really putting out in New York. They put on a fabulous show. Roger took me by surprise with a powerful voice and a youthful exuberance. And Pete was nothing short of astonishing on guitar. Did you make the trip with Pete and the gang? Personally, I would have spent the day in the English countryside, but some people would choose to spend the day in New York.
ReplyDeleteI’ve been modestly active the last little while, just having fun as usual, trying to stay keen, trying to enjoy what time I have left here on this planet. The end game is near; I can feel its approach. I want to be young again. I want to see Justin Bieber continue to grow and prosper, I want to outlive Mick Jagger, Lord knows I deserve it, and I’d like to get it right, the meaning of life, before I take off. I don’t want to venture into the unknown. I want to know where I’m going, whether it’s up or down.
I’ve reached that stage in life, when making a deal with the Devil seems like an attractive option. The problem I’m having with that at the moment is this: The Bastard never returns my calls!
The noise in my head is amplified at night when all is quiet and my head hits the pillow. Tinnitus! Anyone with my condition might think they were being blasted with high pitched signals from Aliens in outer space. Signals designed to drive a person insane. One might think that, but it wouldn’t be wise.
I don’t feel like writing anymore, but I don’t want to go to bed. I’m not ready for that yet. So, I’m going to listen to some music until I begin to feel groggy, and then I’ll give it a shot.
Good night, Rachel.
Your Good Friend,
Tommy DisCool
http://youtu.be/6vn23e9GnhI
Love and Light ! X Danny
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel! Happy Christmas!
ReplyDeleteUhm.. YES.. LOL
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel! from Tucson, AZ! Come on by, we'll go to Starbucks for a cup of coffee or tea, on me!
ReplyDeleteBest 2U and your pupstars, one and all,
Kim Keller
Yes! Hope you're well these days! :-)
ReplyDeleteThere was a chariot racing in a Roman stadium, and on the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel sat a fly. As a great dust arose from the pounding of the horses' hooves and from the turning of the wheels, the fly exclaimed, "Oh what a mighty dust I create!" (Aesop)
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=L7zjeSZWcXM
Dear Rachel, I like to live in an agitated state! Given a preference, it’s agitated all the way. It seems to me, that only when I’m agitated, I feel that all is real. Coffee and cigarettes are a must, for without them, where would I be? Crawling in the subjugated sectors of my mind, that’s where I’d be! Crawling through the creases and the crevasses that lead to nowhere. Chained to the inner walls, my destiny is to die.
ReplyDeleteCaffeine, nicotine, and codeine when I can’t stop coughing, that’s it for me - stimulants - and on the downside, alcohol and marijuana.
Alcohol will slow down the firing of the neurons, and cause them to fire out of order in a haphazard way. In other words it messes with the mind, it distorts things. And for no good reason that I know of, it weakens your inhibitions. It is kryptonite for some, dynamite, while in others it creates a euphoric fatigue which can lead some dudes into the semi-hard league. They can’t get a rock-solid erection, too much to drink. Alcohol doesn’t like kids!
Now marijuana, and here’s where it get’s interesting. Let me tell you a little story! But first off, let me say this: marijuana is a naturally grown weed here on Mother Earth, why, I don’t know, anymore than I know why catnip exists? Mother Nature - feline friendly, I suppose. And she’s not amiss when it comes to man. Mother Nature has a plan.
Marijuana is not a hallucinogen although there are times when it can cause some people to become paranoid or moonstruck. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut that has landed on the moon. You and your partner, Buddy, just the two of you, sitting in a space capsule that has safely landed. Now let’s say that Buddy decides it’s time for some relaxation after a successful trip and a safe landing. So he rolls a joint and shares it with you, and paranoia sets in. Your mind begins to imagine all kinds of strange things, and one of those strange things is that Buddy has suddenly turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon rocks -- Wham! You just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Nice try! Think again batman." (The words are mine, I have elaborated, but the joke belongs to Jack Handy)
When it comes to man, Mother Nature is at her best. When she ran out of natural drugs, she taught man how to build laboratories and concoct God knows what. She did it through evolution, it’s an old ploy. It’s been done throughout the universe, time and time again. Marijuana was meant for man, but Hobbits like it too. Show me a Hobbit that isn’t on grass, and I’ll show you a ladder that leads to Heaven. It can’t be done.
I know a woman that cut a man’s hair and zapped all of his strength, she calls herself Mariah. Now some of you may have thought I was going to say, Delilah. Oh yeah, I remember her from the Bible - that was Samson’s babe. A real doll she was, that Delilah. Her mannerisms and actions were classic - noir - she belongs on every dark street corner beneath every broken street lamp standing in the rain. She zapped him of all his strength, then she called for back-up, she was a spy. Some guys came and took Samson away in chains, and then they gouged his eyes out. Now Samson blind as a bat, fought back and regained his strength. Well, to make a long story short - he tore down a temple in a blind fit of rage; that was his comeback.
Now I don’t know about you, but I think Samson would have been better off if he’d never met Delilah. Fuck the temple and give him his eyes back in order that he might see that which so befuddled him. Samson was a fool. He certainly was no Isaac - by the hand of God he was saved.
Sincerely,
Tommy D______
Professor of Smozology
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbjrMgrqagE
Still here, sorry I missed your post. Think I was away for a month visiting family. Hope you are doing well. I was opining that you had a part in the score for the Olympics. Did you ever get you music library re-stocked? We have a large bookcase (floor to ceiling) of sheet music and anthologies from my father's estate. He was a pretty good piano player - if you would have any interest & have an agent stateside, maybe we could send some of it your way. Do miss your "Oh HI" but don't blame anyone for bugging out of social media these days.
ReplyDeleteCheers!
Dave
Miss you super fox.
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, I haven’t been doing much of anything lately, how about you? Mostly I’m playing around on Facebook just having fun writing little flirtations, or whatever you want to call it. Short stories, little quips, little rants and little raves, maybe even the odd poem, oh, and online newspapers, I like to mouth-off to people that comment in there. That’s what I’ve been doing.
ReplyDeleteI wrote a little dream sequence about you and Pete and hey, I think the gang was all there, a real dream! I only remember a handful of dreams, funny I should dream about you, and remember it.
Rachel, if you’d like to read my little dream about you, I’m Tom De Bona on Facebook, click, click, click, and you’re halfway there. It comes with a picture by Vincent van Gogh. Just scroll down to where it says: THIS IS CALLED - “RACHEL” (The picture is by far, my favourite van Gogh - totally convincing)
Actually, I’ll post the dream in here for you because I’d like you to read it, and you may not want to bother with my Facebook page. I keep Facebook open for everyone and anyone, and why not? I have nothing to hide. I suppose when it comes right down to it, my Facebook page is really just all about me! About what I like, and what I like not. About what I love and what I hate about art and religion, politics and war, superstition and what have you? Answer: Tommy DisCool.
HERE’S A TYPICAL POST - LOL - I HOPE YOU FIND IT AMUSING, because if I can’t make you smile, I have failed. I hope you see the “simple” wit to it. Even better, I hope you see the wit wasn’t quite that simple. Actually without the picture, the words don’t work as well, but here goes:
ReplyDeleteI see lots of people of Facebook taking bathroom mirror pictures of themselves, so I thought I would try it myself. This is my first try. I’m not very good at it. It’s harder than I thought. I guess there’s a knack to it. I’ll have to figure it out. I guess some people are better than others, when it comes to taking bathroom pictures. Maybe I should take a night course at Mohawk College on, “Bathroom Photography.” I took a course last year on, “How to Insert a Smile in Facebook.” I failed.
THIS IS CALLED - “RACHEL”
ReplyDeleteHi Rachel, I dreamt about you last night. I say I dreamt about you, but actually you played a minor role. I seldom remember my dreams, perhaps half a dozen in any given year. The dream centered around Pete, nothing unusual there. It took place in a rustic, large room, the light was soft and yellow. It was a room in Pete’s house, the dream took place in England. But the room was not at all what I would have expected, it was rustic, like a big old home in Quebec, for goodness sake. It caught me by surprise. It’s something I would not have projected if I were awake. I remember glancing around and it was very nicely appointed. About all that was missing was a small bottle of maple syrup and a fiddle on the shelf in the corner.
I introduced myself to Pete. “Hi,” I said, “I’m Tommy D____.” Pete smiled and shook my hand. He was not a young man, but he was younger than he is today. I’m not good with age, but if I had to guess I would say, Pete was about fifty-four. More handsome and cordial than I imagined, and he exuberated a charm that I’ve rarely seen. Charming men are hard to find these days or so it seems. There were a handful of other people in the big room, Rachel, but you were not there.
I said to Pete, “I think you are a better guitar player today, better than you have ever been before. He shook his head in agreement. I don’t know how it is that I knew, what was going on inside Pete’s mind, but I knew that he did not think what I said was a compliment. He did not take it as such. No, he thought what I said was simply an acute observation. It’s funny how he thinks but that is not my concern. My concern was centered around you. I did not have the wherewithal to ask, “Where is Rachel?” for fear that I would not like the answer. It was profound. And as time went by, with Pete and I having a wonderful conversation about this and that, I began feeling a little anxious. There was no mention of you.
And then I heard a door opening. I was face to face with Pete, talking, and I heard a door open and close just off to my right. I turned and you were standing there, perhaps twenty-feet away. A distance sufficient that I could see all of you, without glancing up and down. You were pretty as I expected. You had put on a little weight, perhaps ten pounds. You looked great with the added weight. You were very casual, a homemade dress, nondescript, no makeup, just a nice pleasant glow. You spoke but I don’t remember what you said, just something polite and sociable. I’d like to say you said, something charming or witty, and perhaps you did, I just don’t remember. “Hi Rachel,” I do remember saying, “I’m Tommy D____.” I think we shook hands and you smiled.
to be continued....
...continued
ReplyDeleteThe dream was warm and comfortable, there were other people in the room but I don’t remember whom. I guess they played no significant role although I believe they were vibrant with one another. On the wall, just to my left, there sat a great big guitar. It wasn’t a real guitar, it was a cardboard cutout. It didn’t hang on the wall, as you would expect a guitar to do; it seemed to be plastered there. It was a big cardboard guitar plastered to the wall. Pete and I stood looking up at that big guitar just to the left of us plastered on a big rustic wall. I’ll be damned if I can remember what we talked about while we were both focused on that big guitar. I think I said, “I like it,” and waited for Pete’s reply. I think he told me a short story about the guitar, but I can’t remember what he said, and who cares, it was only a dream.
Funny I should think of you and Pete in a dream. It makes no sense. And yet, it makes all the sense in this world. I suppose it’s something I’ll take away with me when I leave this planet.
All in a dream boy, it was all in a dream.
to be continued....
...continued
ReplyDeletePS; I wish there had been a mirror in the room. I have no idea what I looked like, whether I was tall, dark and handsome, or short, snotty and stout. Nor do I know how I wore my hair, for all I know, I could have been stark naked bald. I have no idea how I appeared to all the others, I hope I presented myself well.
PPS; I think I must have presented well, or I would not have this warm feeling about the encounter.
PPPS; If I had to present a mental picture of my dream, Rachael, I could do it in paragraphs, but it would take up a few pages, and I have no time for that. Think of it, as if you were van Gogh. Think of sunflowers and swirls of light and olive trees, think about flowers growing in a meadow, think of golden wheat flowing in a field, and think about “The Potato Eaters,” Vincent van Gogh’s master piece.
It’s all there in a dream.
Sincerely,
Tommy D_____
Professor of Smozology
A.K.A., Tommy DisCool, TOMMY
Thomas Good, and Tom De Bona
What more can be said of my own persona?
There are times when I’d like to be known as T.D. Esq.,
and for no good reason, but I’ll not go into it at the moment.
The Armigero lies in the waiting.
Your fans having missed you for such a long time, feel like there has been a loss in the family. Hoping all is well with you. Cheers!!!
ReplyDeleteMissing you,...Rachel. Hope to hear from you soon.
ReplyDeleteTomoko xoxo
Dear Rachel,
ReplyDeleteI miss you.
I love Classic Quad, and you!
I am still clean and sober and loving life.
You can write to me, if you ever get bored!
I have a new life in theatre, dahling, and music!
Still doing music therapy too with special people at a home near my home in Taipei.
Anjoli is off to Uni in the UK next year!
Time flies.
Oh, and we adopted a gorgeous Golden Retriever last summer!
Write when you can!
Go see Silence - it will premiere at Cannes in May next year, if that's near you! I think I am in the opening scene- wearing a green velvet gown and holding a parasol! The gown was made in Rome! The year it was set in is 1630 ish!
Take care!!!
Love,
Sue
suesjoy@gmail.com
Happy Birthday, elizabeth a.
ReplyDeletehttps://youtu.be/kcVmJGkMTgc