Baby, You Can Talk To Me

 This week I had two radio shows,filling in for my friend Paul on his Thursday night show, and then doing my own on Saturday. It's been a long, hard week and certain things aren't working out quite the way I'd hoped.

I mean, I know exactly how hard it is to make a phone call. I understand the difficulty of email and I sure as hell grasp the inherent barriers involved in sending a text message from a cell phone. So my guess is that my new friend has been trying desperately to get in touch with me and just hasn't found the right technology for doing so. Maybe all she had was a postage stamp and I'll have to wait for Monday's mail to get her reply to my simple question about this weekend.

Yeah. That's it.

Anyway. I have music and lots of it, and if you want it all you gotta do is come and get it.



DOUBLE BONUS PODCAST DOWNLOAD - TWO SHOWS, FOUR HOURS!(click)


PAUL'S BOUTIQUE 6/23/2011 w/ Guest DJ,THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB


Astronauts of Antiquity- Breakthrough

Melomane- Buddha Statue

Clara Bellino- Peaceful Solution

Frames- Giving It All Away

Old Haunts- Not Hopeless

Gang of Four- You Don't Have To Be Mad

Green Man- When Love is Done

Hudost- Hunger

Obits- You Gotta Lose

Jon Yeager- Like a Train

Cop Shoot Cop- Two At A Time

Firewater- Anything at All

Cat Dail - Think of a Story

Monday Machines- Spinning Plates

Motorhead- I Don't Believe A Word

Ross Phazor- You'll Never Change

Wire- Flat Tent

Norine Braun- I'm The One

G-Spot- Happy Denial

Jupe Jupe- If I Could Go Back In Time

Nicholas Howard- Blood From a Stone

Monacy- Orbit

Jeannine Hebb- Only Ones

Shawn Farley- The Last Time We Talked

Lucinda Williams- Something About What Happens When We Talk

Purrs- Fear of Flying

Cat Nights Begin- and Once the Last of Autumn Leaves



THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB 6/25/2011

Stefanie Seskin- Chill Now

Stranglers- Skin Deep

Curtis Mayfield- No Thing

Rickie Lee Jones- Young Blood

Tracy Chapman- Son of a Preacher Man

Hot Tuna- Hesitation Blues

The Band- The Shape I'm In

Jefferson Starship- Hyperdrive

Ten Years After- If You Should Love Me

Rare Earth- Satisfaction Guaranteed

Garbage- Temptation Waits

Elu- Coventry Carol

Lou Reed- Don't Talk To Me About Work

Bob Dylan- One More Cup of Coffee

Jennings- Doorway

Nijole Sparkis- Everything


Astronauts of Antiquity- Beautiful Fate

The Service Industry- Seaworld

Gong- Tropical Fish

The Geraldine Fibbers- Dusted

Guiltless Cult- What Do I have To Say?

Green Man- I Am Stretched On Your Grave

Traffic- Love

Joan as Policewoman- The Ride

Fleetwood Mac- Believe Me

The Kinks- Life Goes On

Carpenters- Top of the World

Leo Kottke- Ice Cream

Eat Stuff, Stay Young

 This (above) is a picture of me, circa 1999. Years of heavy drinking and drug use had turned me into a withered, skinny, shaky derelict of an old man while I was still in my 30s.

Fortunately, I quit using hard drugs sometime around the year 2000 and that allowed my body to retain most of the calories in the alcohol I was consuming, minus a few calories here and there from vomiting and the occasional bleeding injury. In any case, by 2004 I had stopped being so withered and skinny and I became a fat, bloated blimp. I only shook when I wasn't drinking- which was never- so I was pretty steady most of the time.

 But the Fall of 2005 brought with it the Fall of Me. I survived, but just barely. Sometimes it seems like part of me died that year and perhaps it was a part of me that I'm better off without.

Or maybe it is still inside somewhere, lurking and waiting...but for what?

After all, you can't blow up the Hindenburg twice.

I did have a relapse of sorts recently. I found myself mixing a live band on-the-air for the first time in about a year- I'd had a years-long binge of live music starting back in 2005, and I thought I'd cured my mixing addiction by replacing it with the guitar-playing habit that I thought I had kicked back in my drinking days ( see how these cycles work?).

These days, I can't seem to go a day without at least a few minutes of guitarizing. I say this  not without a certain amount of lasting gratitude, a gratitude which circumstance does not allow me to convey directly, but which is there nonetheless. I hope you understand.

Anyway.

This is me now, doing something that I love to do: admiring myself...um...I mean, setting up a broadcast sound-stage at our local non-profit FM station:

If you have ever listened to my radio show or to one of my broadcast/podcasts, I would like to take a minute to personally thank you for doing so.  It is a truly a labor of love, but it is worth it knowing that there are people out there, friends and strangers alike,who actually enjoy what I do...I mean, wow. That is a great feeling.

Having my own radio show is an honest-to-Godzilla childhood dream of mine come true, it really is.

This is what it looks like when I'm playing records for you...we have two old-fashioned turntables and those records are the real deal, straight outta my personal collection, scratches and all.

Of course, there's more to radio  than just spinning plates. You gotta know what the Fancy Knobs do, for one thing. And sometimes you get to meet really cool people. Or maybe instead of them, you'll meet my friend Kevin (below, middle), a.k.a, the redoubtable Mr. Atavist .
A year or three ago, I showed Kevin how the Fancy Knobs work and now he is conquering the world with his own show, one great unknown band at a time.

But enough about me and the people who are lucky enough to bask in my greatness. Let's talk about you.  Let's talk about us.

Nah...let's keep talking about me, 'cause I'm kinda bummed out that you can't come over for dinner tonight-  I made a nice summertime vegetarian treat for you and I kinda wanted to surprise you with it. There's a lot of ardor in my larder for you, you know. 

First I soaked my wheat, which you can see in the background, then I threw a bunch of chick peas and some tahini and other bits of things into my food processor...note that you should put most of the spices and small bits in first, but I had some extra parsley and roasted pepper, so it went in last.

Pressed buttons until the machine got loud and the food spun around like clothes in a washer.

After a few minutes, it looked like this. Not ready to eat, but much more colorful than my rather bland black-and-white laundry.

After much grinding and whirring, I eventually had a big bowl of the yummy, healthy goop known as hummus. Because you said you loved hummus.

Anyway, by now the wheat had finished soaking, so I added a bunch of stuff that I just happened to have lying around the kitchen to the wheat until it turned into tabbouleh. Which is pretty damned good, if I must say so myself. And I must say so myself, because no one else is here tonight  to say anything to me or for me. 

Sigh.  

 Not that I miss you or that I like having you around you or anything like that...I just hate having all this extra food. I knew you'd understand.

 The kicker is the cucumber dressing. It's easy as hell to make and it tastes great on top of hummus and tabbouleh.  Sliced cukes, added oil, vinegar, pepperoncini ,  a little sugar, some garlic and the leftover bits of mint, red peppers and parsley from the stuff I made earlier.

Put it all in the 'fridge and let it chill...

What's that? You can't come over?

Damn. No, it'll keep...yes, literally, haha. I'm glad you don't mind leftovers.

On the bright side, that means more dessert for me. I made these special just for you but I dunno how long they'll last...

Damn. My stomach hurts. Must've been all that hummus.


.

Trouble In The Air

I used to have the occasional head-butt with our old station manager, but she did a lot more work than I realized and it is starting to show now that she is gone.

This morning, for instance I was listening to the radio stream and a channel was out. Again. So I grabbed a few tools that I really hoped I didn't have to use (because I pretty much don't know what  they do and some of them are really sharp) and hustled down to station, where I  traced wires and generally got underfoot until I rigged up a temporary solution that lasted at least long enough for me to finish my shows and record the podcasts linked below.

Four straight hours of live broadcast is a lot of broadcast and I'd be damned if I was gonna let a bunch of guerrilla wiring ruin my shows. So there.

For your enjoyment, I present:


6182011 New Breakfast Snob & 6182011 Songs From The Big Hair Download
 

THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB 18 JUNE 2011


Rathkeltair- It's All Good

Damien Dempsey- It's All Good

The Purrs- Mostly

Astronauts of Antiquity- Everywhere

Jeannine Hebb- Too Late To Change Me

Angelfish- Dogs In A Cage

Love Kills Theory- Poverty of Student Life

801- Flight 19

Mythica- Don't Be

HuDost- Skeleton Key

mr. Gnome- Three Birds

Cafebar 401- Damn These Blues

Belly- Untogether

Peter Tosh- Won't Fool Me Again

Ramsey Lewis- Sun Goddess

The Kinks- Get Up

XTC- Poor Skeleton Steps Out

Al Stewart- Song On The Radio

Alan Parsons- One More River

Jethro Tull- Big Dipper

Frames- Monument

Stackridge- Happy In The Lord

Cat Nights Begin- Of Mettle

Traffic- Withering Tree

Shannon Sharon & Steve Earle- Galway Girl

Little Feat- Time Loves A Hero

SONGS FROM THE BIG HAIR 18 JUNE 2011

Birthday Party- Guilt Parade

Stranglers - Let Me Down Easy

Dire Straits- Setting Me Up

Dave Davies - In You I Believe

Nouvelle Vague- In a Manner of Speaking


Tuxedomoon- Jinx


Warren Zevon- The Factory


David Lindley- Talk To The Lawyer

X- Because I Do


Replacements- Go

Pretty Things- No Future


Dream Syndicate- When You Smile


Robyn Hitchcock- The Cars She Used To Drive

Husker Du- These Important Years

Crack The Sky- Frozen Rain

Wire- Getting Sucked In Again

Hawklords- Psi Power

Peter Blegvad- Model of Kindness

Suzi Quatro- Breakdown

Waterboys- All The Things She Gave Me

Golden Palominos- Strong, Simple Silences

Lou Reed- Underneath The Bottle

Meat Puppets- Lost

Pat Benatar- Helter Skelter

King Crimson- Sleepless

Troublefunk- Woman of Principle

Richard Thompson- Bone Through Her Nose

Joe Jackson- 50 Dollar Love Affair

Neil Young- Shots

Melt

Obviously, I don't know anything about women and they know everything about me, including how totally awesome I am. So, um, er, nevermind about all that depressing stuff I may or may not have said.

Change Of Pace

I forgot to take my anxiety pill this morning.  At work, I realized that I haven't been taking my meds for at least a week or so, so when I got home I checked my supply- it was almost untouched. I guess I'll leave them be for now, I don't feel unsettled enough to warrant needing medication right now. (Note the use of the qualifier right now. I'm happy, not delusional.)

At the grocer's this evening I made the impulsive decision  to wheel my cart into an actual , honest-to-Godzilla full service check-out lane, which had no line and two attendants, two young black girls, one to ring the register and one to bag the items. The bagging girl asked me if wanted paper or plastic and was humorously  admonished by the cashier for not calling me 'sir'.

"Please, whatever you don't call me 'sir'. When the pretty girls start calling me sir, I know I'm done for." They thought this was hilarious and they started joking about texting me because I was so sweet. At least I hope they were joking.

In any case, mine is not the sort of personality that naturally lights up a room or even  enlivens a supermarket checkout line. Or is it? I'm not sure, exactly.  I've spent so much of my life wasted in one way or another that it is sorta hard to define what a 'baseline normal' for me is in the first place. But I'm giving it another go.

And there have been some times lately when I've been really, really nervous- like dating, for instance- but I don't want to be a medicated date. Nervousness, within limits, is actually acceptable, even expected on a date-and  if it isn't , you need to dump your date and find someone more empathetic.

One thing I do know is that I've got some pretty serious fortifications built around myself, and the  person who built those moats and walls did a pretty thorough job- but there are still a few weak spots where an intruder with enough moxie could sneak in, for good or ill.

I spent a lifetime building those walls and pits and it took me by surprise  when someone I'd never met before saw directly through all of those carefully-erected defense. She didn't sneak through them, she did acknowledge they existed, but she chose to ignore them and got right into the core of me. The raw, hurt part of me that not everyone gets to see.

You've been hurt really badly. Really, really badly. Don't know who did it, but you need to let that shit go forever if you want a new relationship. Are you sure you are ready to date?

Busted.

I could tell that lying wasn't going to work, so out came the short version of a long story best left off this blog. My date listened to this story and I was afraid she was going to leave, but instead she told me a story of her own. It was like my own, but worse. And when she was done, she looked at me like I was going to get up and leave, because this is probably some pretty heavy shit for a first date, but I didn't leave. I was already hooked by this point. An addict needs a partner who can see right through them...most addicts avoid people who can tell when they are lying, but I find it refreshing and attractive. And freeing...no need to worry about what to say and how to say it, for instance, since the truth seems acceptable.

But mostly it was laughter. And more of the same the following weekend and the mutual feeling seems to see each other again soon, so that is good. As good as it has been for a long, long time.

But if it doesn't work out, I won't be destroyed, not like last time. After last time I really did want to shut myself off from anything and anyone good. At the time it felt like I wanted to blot it all out it forever, but I found that I can't maintain that level of despair without alcohol or certain drugs, and I'm just not willing to drink or use those drugs again.

Without alcohol  and drugs, I'll never enjoy the nihilistic misery I've longed for all these decades.

I really did want to give up about six months ago, just give up and die, thinking no one would miss me and it would all be for the better if I just vanished from the planet.
Can you believe that?

Probably you can, at least if you ever drank alcoholically or used hard drugs. This particular case of The Zero was woman-induced, but the feeling came from the same unutterably bleak place that the alcoholic part of me lives. Being sober doesn't keep you from being happy, but it doesn't keep me from being sad either. It just makes me normal, or closer to it anyway.

But I didn't drink or start sniffing shit again,  and after a period of emotional mourning, I started dating. Getting strung-out on hard drugs is actually a whole lot easier than dating , but I stayed with it and maybe, just maybe something good has come of it, something real and lasting- something I've never really had.

Or not. I did manage to give up hope for months, and nothing is set in stone, I know something horrible could happen again.  And if it does, I'll mope for a while and then I'll get up and try again. But I know that I won't self-destruct over it. 

I can trust myself.

I never thought I'd say that.

Whatever happens, I know that I won't spiral out of control and back into the gutter. That knowledge was certainly  worth a broken heart.
Or two.
Or as many it takes.

.

Death Gives Pause

Some of my most vivid dreams take place in the same setting,  a beach surrounded by cliffs so high that the beach seems as if it is seated at the bottom of an ancient canyon. Gravity is user-friendly in this place, and in some dreams I half-levitate, half-fly from stony clifftop to sandy beach, over and over again, simply for the sheer exultation of being able to do so.

But I'd nearly forgotten about this place, it had been so long since my last visit, and it had changed in my absence. It still had the same air of comfortable mystery to it, but the water had become a river- a stream really- and it was running through a valley of low, hazy mountains. It felt sheltered and safe and it didn't occur to me until after I woke up that I forgot to check the local gravity while I was there. I probably could have floated if I'd felt like it, but it didn't seem necessary at the time.

I found a rock that was actually a chair and sat down to watch the water. After a while I realized that I'd been joined on my rock by a friend, or perhaps my friend had been there all along and I hadn't noticed.  In any case, I was glad to see her and couldn't help but laugh a little, which made her look at me quizzically.

"What?"

"Nothing...I mean, I'm amazed you found this place. It's not like I drew you a map or anything."

" A map? Dude, you are so literal sometimes."

Me, literal? I thought that was funny, so I laughed. My friend tells me the same thing in real-life and it makes me laugh then too, even though she is right.

"Dude, why are you crying? Everything's groovy, you worry too much."

Crying?

There were mysterious flecks of golden light swirling in her auburn eyes but for some reason I was enraptured by her eyebrows. Her brows were the most beautiful things that I'd ever seen, which struck me as an extremely bizarre thing to think and made me laugh even harder. How could I possibly be crying?

"Hey, serious here. Stop crying."

I wanted to protest that I wasn't crying, that I had no reason to cry except maybe some tears of happiness-  I'm far too stoic for that sort of thing, of course- but I felt a drop of something wet, then another- I looked down at my hands and they were catching teardrops as if it were raining sorrow. Which it was. From me. In buckets.


Damn. That's embarrassing.


But I felt fine when I woke up. I even toyed with the idea of calling in sick just for the health of it, calling in "well", as it were.  There are days that I feel really good and it is a shame to have to waste that feeling at work- this morning was like that, but I went in anyway.

At some point in the late morning  I took a break and looked at Facebook. An announcement had gone out that my old friend Tim M. had passed away after a long and painful battle against cancer. This was sudden news to me and many of his friends; most of us knew about the cancer but I thought it was  in remission. It wasn't.

I've sometimes heard people make off-hand comments about what to do when a Facebook friend dies. Who posts what where and what does one say?, etc.  I dunno, I don't really care either.

What I do know is what happens when a real-life friend dies and you find out about it on Facebook. First you check some mutual friends to make sure this isn't some sort of mix-up or misunderstanding. Then you look at all the piles of suddenly pointless-seeming paperwork surrounding you  and then you return your gaze to the computer screen.

By this point you aren't really reading anything, but all those tiny pictures of familiar faces seem reassuring somehow and it is hard to stop looking. But there is work to do, so you go and start doing it.

Except that this isn't a dream. You aren't laughing inside, those really are tears running down your face.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't cry when people die. I'm all tough and shit.

So you call your boss and answer his questions about the database and then you decide to leave the office before someone sees you break down and start weeping, because the last thing you want people thinking is that you are some kinda pussy or sensitive-poet type. Because that shit truly will end in tears.

So you go home and think for a while about what is what, and when was when and how is how and how it is a bloody fucking miracle that you made it home without someone telling you that "it's all good", because it isn't "all good". It never is. On a human level, even during the very best of times, things are mostly fucked-up, things are definitely not "all good". War, poverty, famine- none good.

Tim is dead. That isn't good. It is hard to take the death of a friend impersonally so you change back to first-person and continue.

I take a look at what could easily be a dark spiral of  morbid rumination and I shake my head. I think of my friend and her magical eyebrows. She was right, of course. I am being far too literal for my own health and I might miss something absurd, something silly and  crucial that I need to be part of. Something good.

We can't stop people from dying. Or fighting. Or being assholes. Or from doing the horrible, carelessly harmful bullshit that we do to each other and to ourselves every single, goddamned fucking day without even thinking twice about it.

Why  are you so angry? Why am I so sad? Mind your own damn business and stop looking at me that way. Deal with it. What do you mean by that? Go away. Leave me alone. Fuck off.

Most of that stuff I can't change, but I should work on the parts that I can change. I owe that much to my friends, living and dead, myself included.

-

(This cup's for you, Tim. You'll know what I mean)

I Can Fix That

I'm a lucky guy. My music geek dream comes true every Saturday when I do my radio program. I don't always know what genre or theme that I'm working with, so I let my subconscious do the hard work for me and I concentrate on distinguishing clearly labeled buttons from one another.


About the only thing that could make doing my show better is knowing that there is a beautiful woman listening to my show because it is my show and she likes me even when I'm not on the radio. And that she likes to see me, despite me never being on TV at all. It's a pretty amazing feeling. I'm not sure where it is going but it feels good, there is no element of wrongness to it, just a slow getting-to-know-you in person and in real-life process that I've not experienced as a s sober adult. It feels great. I'm a lucky guy.



THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB JUNE 11 2011

(PODCAST DOWNLOAD HERE)

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Taxi To The Ocean- Flag On The Moon

Slo Mo - Home is Where is the Heart is

Peter Bayreuther- Hey Baby

Eileen Ivers- Paddy in Zululand

Elu- Lose Control

Bird York- Never Gonna Find Us

Damien Dempsey- Celtic Tiger

Tidal Arms- Social Landlord

Erika Song- Is That So Strange


Robert Fripp- Chicago


Mute Speaker- Crab People

Cursive- Fairtytales Tell Tales


Dare Dukes- Ballad of Darious McCollum

Area 27- Black Sun

A'tris- Light and Shadow

Taxi To The Ocean- Hold On To Me

Cecile Corbel- O Stor mo chroi


Golden Palominos- Break In The Road


Cafebar 401- Couch Potato


Garbage- Bad Boyfriend

HuDost- Invisible

Rathkeltair- Something Good For A Change


Entheogenic- Fire, Horse and Storm

Green Man- Cold Blows The Wind

Sharon Knight- Serpentina
 

Thanks for tuning in!

How Lil' Kim Gave Me My Groove Back

You probably wouldn't think that North Korea's megalomaniac  despot Lil' Kim would have much to do with my ongoing search for love, and 99.99% of the time that would be a good thing, because the less that Lil' Kim has to do with your love-life, the better.

To paraphrase Tom Robbins: "The song Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing  was not composed in North Korea."

But not long ago I started a correspondence with a young local woman who told me that  her dream vacation was to visit North Korea. In my book, expressing a desire to visit one of the most brutally oppressive nations on the planet is a really good conversational gambit, so I followed up on that.

She told me that N. Korea has been granting more Western tourist access lately, that of course it was all State-Propaganda-Doctrine-Dinners and visits to faked-up 'worker's paradises', but it is apparently dirt cheap and the food (taken from the mouths of starving children, no doubt) is supposed to be top-notch.

Plus, it will be on the last chance we will have to see a corrupt, crumbling ninth-world communist hell-hole up-close and personal while it is in mid-decline, as most of those opportunities vanished with the demise of the Cold War and  subsequent dismantlement of the Eastern Bloc.

Clearly, this was my kinda girl.

But before we could make our travel plans,  I met another young woman on line.  Of the countless hundreds of local women on-line, she was the only one who appeared when I  refined my search by adding 'atheist' as a descriptor.

The only one. One. One is the perfect number for me.

So we chatted on-line until dawn  and the next night we went out...we met the corner bar, where she had a beer and I had tea...it really doesn't bother me to be in bars (unless smoking is allowed), especially if I'm in rapt conversation with a lovely and utterly, unbelievably, engaging woman. Then we went to see our local minor-league baseball team play- which was her idea!- and had a great time sitting in the nosebleeds, watching people more than the actual game.  It turns out we are both NFL fans and are both just biding time until something happens on that particular miserable front...but a football fan! How cool is that?

We talked about our mutual 'dating' adventures and I told her that so far the second-most alluring dating offer I'd gotten was to tour North Korea, which I was actually sorta into.

My new friend then informed me that she'd been stationed in Korea while in the Army and that in her opinion there might be better vacation spots than North Korea...she might have included Turkish prisons or the interior of a live volcano on that list.

Clearly this was also my kind of girl.

After the game, we had more beer and tea and after the bar closed, we sat together on what passes for my front porch and shared our first kiss.

Neither one of us was in a particular hurry to say good-bye this morning, but we did. We sent each other simultaneous thank you notes and wound up chatting for hours, despite having just parted.

Life is getting better, it really is.

And I had a really awesome radio show too:

PODCAST HERE

THE NEW BREAKFAST SNOB, JUNE 4, 2011

The Kinks- Scum Of The Earth

BeBop Deluxe- Piece of Mine

Generic Tribe- Seven Pounds

Geraldine Fibbers- A Song About Walls

Stackridge- Spin Round The Room

Randy Newman- Back On My Feet Again


Captain Beefheart- Nowadays A Woman's Gotta Hit A Man

Happy Birthday- Birthday Party

Excesses- Klark Kent

Astronauts of Antiquity- Strangest Places

Green Man- She Moved Through The Fair

Melomane- Even Though You're Born Toulose

Cat Nights Begin-Funkadelicatessan

Frames- Live Forever

Concrete Blonde- Tomorrow, Wendy

Stefanie Seskin- I Just Keep On


Damien Dempsey- Patience


Claanad- The Other Side

Joan As Policewoman- Holiday

Monday Machines- Ruined Morning

Dropkick Murphys- Shipping Off To Boston

Eman and Friends- Come To Poland

Jefferson Airplane- 3/5 of a Mile in Ten Seconds

Loreena McKinnett- Mummer's Dance

Manda Mosher- Lay Me Down

Jen Foster- Broken

Scream Daisy- Bees


Leo Kottke- Nothin' Works

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Who knows what the future holds?