Stay High

14 02 2016

mc5I wrote “stay high” in one of my stoner girlfriends’ yearbooks in my Jr. year of high school. And she left her yearbook behind in class one day and the teacher opened it and started reading the comments.  So dude called my parents and said we needed to do a drug intervention with me, just because I told her to stay high.

I didn’t do drugs like those chicks.  They were way more mature and older than me.  I started school a year earlier than I should have so I was always with older kids in the same class and I witnessed things earlier than I should have.

They would come to school on Monday, after the weekend talking about taking LSD and Cocaine and having sex with their older boyfriends.  I just listened and let it roll off my back because I knew I was way too young for that business.  But they liked me a lot so they would travail me with these stories of slutty-hood and debauchery.

So I knew they liked to party and they were my friends in school so I wrote, “stay high” in her yearbook and the adults all freaked out on me.  And her too, but she laughed it off because her parents allowed her these luxuries.

But not mine, and not that I would have wanted to do that stuff at such a young age, I wouldn’t have.  They would tell me that I needed to take LSD with them and then they would “take advantage” of me in the bedroom.

Sounds about what every high school boy dreams of, it actually happened to me but I just put it out of my mind because I knew I was going on a mission for Jesus Christ when I was 19 and I had to remain pure as I could.  But I smoked a lot of weed, and drank alcohol and made out with a lot of chicks…I just never went all the way like those crazy chicas wanted me too.

And after the discovery of “stay high” in the yearbook, I was grounded for two months by my parents.  Man, that sucked.  I got grounded a lot, and for long times too because I did some stuff I should not have done, but it was never as severe as my parents imagined, and during lecture time I never said anything, just listened to them tell me what kind of trouble I was getting into for coming home smelling like smoke.

Man, I must have driven my parents nuts in my latter high school years.  They have no idea I was merely the celibate stoner.  I just liked my brain escape from the harshness of home, but I wasn’t out womanizing or anything like my other buddies were.

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Cure For Depression In The Year 2015

19 06 2015

Put down, get away from, or unplug whatever screen has your attention and go create something of beauty, anything, but do it without your electronic device.

Cook a meal from scratch out of our imagination, make something new.

Draw a picture of yourself, then do it again.

Get out of the slavery and bondage of the Internet!

It is a web that is catching its prey.

The World Wide Web.

always watching

always watching

And it has caught humanity as its victim and they don’t even realize it.





Do Something Good

22 01 2015

chains

Please do something good with no reward in mind and no benefit to self.

Please serve your brothers and sisters with compassionate love that you felt as a child toward another.

Please make something spectacular of your own design and imagination and creativity and share it with no one.

This is how we heal America.





isms

3 01 2015

The ism’s, they come between good and evil to try and establish order when something went wrong. And the ism’s are put upon a society at large to pacify the braniacs who think they are in charge.

But God Almighty has something to say about all of it and He gave the world His Holy Son to show them the way and in the end they killed God’s given Salvation to mankind for pleasure and rank and status to dominate over others.

There is no dominion in Heaven except for my own, All those who follow shall lead, and those who have fallen shall be pacified, thus Saith the Lord of Hosts.





Full Circle, the Process of Life

12 09 2014

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Wow, life has a way of coming full circle and giving you closure on things you’ve even forgotten about. Things that were seemingly meaningless but that were a large part of your life at a certain time. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.

I love music, I’m passionate about it and when I find music that just makes me feel a certain emotion or that touches on a certain vibration within me I have to embrace it. And I don’t care how it sounds to others or how they take it or even if they like it or not. And while I was in my 20s I had a lot of music like this, while my friends listened to mainstream pop, alternative rock and the stuff that was more palatable, I would often stumble upon bands that were in obscurity as far as mass popularity goes, but I would hear them, and if they resonated on that same vibrational wavelength I was on, I naturally integrated them into my music repertoire

Having said that, I am referring to a band called Mission of Burma. I was given a recording of their album VS. by my then girlfriend Sherrie Jacobs and told that I would enjoy them. It was a blank cassette tape and she had told me the name of the band, which I quickly forgot, so I knew the music, but not the name. So I gave them a listen and they soothed my restless soul while rock and roll music was being adulterated by the excesses and debauchery of LA’s now infamous Sunset Strip. And just like when I discovered the Chili Peppers and Jane’s Addiction, Mission of Burma stayed in my cassette player for two months on continuous rotation as I drove to and from work in the Portland/Vancouver area and round and round, here and there working my way through the social network of young adult life.

This was in 1987, and they were a wonderful coupling along with my newly discovered enjoyment of The Red Hot Chili Peppers and then, just around the corner, thankfully, who saved rock and roll from its circling the bathtub drain, Jane’s Addiction.

And then, some 27 years later I am driving across the country from Salt Lake City to Seattle with a new friend, Hans, who I only met the day we left by a craigslist post for a ride. And while we are talking about music and I was introducing him to fIREHOSE and The Minutemen, he then told me that I should listen to Mission of Burma, because fIREHOSE sounds a lot like them.  So after I settled down in Auburn, WA after a couple of weeks I did seek out and find Mission of Burma, and I was taken aback and slammed into a flashback that was purely sublime, remembering that obscure blank cassette tape that Sherri gave me when I left her just a couple of months before.





Following Patterns and Achieving Balance and Healthy Living through the Application of Natural Law and Common Sense

4 02 2013

patternPatterns are so important in life.

Think about it.

We use a pattern to sew a dress, we use a pattern to follow after anything we try to learn that has come before us. Patterns are all around us and they are the fabric that make up our humanity; the vast tapestry of emotion, reaction and triggered response we live through every day.

We are all conditioned to follow after a pattern.  We find patterns that are pleasing to us and we follow after patterns that are familiar such as the pattern belief that says if you go out in the rain without a coat  you’ll catch a cold.

How could a cold virus be thwarted by the wearing of a jacket?  Does the cold virus live in rain drops?

mountainsWhen I was in my first psychology class in college my professor told us a story about a young couple who baked a ham for dinner.  He said that the bride would cut the ends of the ham off and then toss them into the trash as part of the preparation and she thought that’s how you baked a ham.

Because her mother had a pan only big enough to fit a ham if it’s ends were cut off.

It’s important that we often ask ourselves why we do the things we do and it would enliven our lives to change up our routines from time to time.  This is the key to staying young and feeling exuberant  because if we sit around following after the same old patterns our ancestors followed then we’re going to die of all the same diseases they died of.

Our minds have far more control over our bodies than we realize.

I can tell you as surely as I am breathing that a virus could run through me without making me sick and that same virus would make ill most of the population of this country.

How is this possible?  Mind over matter isn’t just a cliche.

The key to health and growth is all within us.  It’s inside of us.

Our society is so caught up on the outward appearance that we go to extravagant lengths to look good on the outside, to have good skin and few wrinkles but inside require all kinds of medication just to get through the day.

Its all backwards.

reflectionThere is a revolution going on right now and people are finally coming to realize that they if they want to look good they have to feel good on the inside first.

It seems we just can’t fake it like we used to.

It’s time to get back to nature and allow our bodies to be what they were created to be.  It’s OK to get sun rays on our skin.  Vitamin D is good!  Don’t fear the sun.

You won’t get skin cancer by spending more than average time in the sun if you treat your body right on the inside.  This I promise you.  But if you are consuming aspartame and processed food by-product you might be a cancer patient.

It’s important that we monitor what we put into our bodies.  We are what we eat, as they used to tell us back in school.

If Popeye ate all that spinach so he could kick Bluto’s butt you better believe it still works today.

Its about educating yourselves and choosing the right diet and exercise.  To build a healthy body you need protein.  It’s what we’re made of, the rules don’t change.

So is eating a lot of chicken, beef, pork, whey, soy or dairy the answer?

Sure you’re eating protein but you’re not consuming protein in a way that the body is ready to use for itself.  What you need are the building blocks of protein.  This is like trying to paint a house with the paint that has already been sprayed on the neighbor’s house.

drumsladderFor our bodies to build themselves up, to regenerate what is lost or fortify what we already have, we need the essential building blocks of protein that come to us in the form of essential amino acids.

And this is where we begin to understand how Popeye and his spinach got along so well.

He became Captain Amazing after a quick can of spinach. Imagine if Popeye got  his energy from a side of beef.  Olive Oil and Brutus would be together rocking Sweet Pea to sleep while Popeye went to get his colon checked.

Popeye understood something the rest of us didn’t.

‘I am what I am’, he says.  He’s the master of his own machine.

What is protein made from?  Amino acid chains.  And that’s what spinach gave to Popeye; the essential amino acids needed to immediately stand ready for battle against Brutus and all his brawn.

Spinach makes him strong to the finich ’cause he’s Popeye the sailor man.

These are good patterns to follow after but they have been lost to McDonald’s and fast food consequences.

McDonald’s made me fat and now I have a broken pancreas.

I think the truth of the matter is that you have a broken will that gives in to delicious over-hydrogenated fatty foods.  Then when you get cancer or fibro mayalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome or whatever new syndrome it is you get as a result of filling your body full of unnatural nutrients you stand back and say,  “aw man, I bet it was all those x-rays I got when I was a kid at the dentists’s office.”

Or maybe your pjamas were made from asbestos.

nycEither way you went and got yourself some cancer and now it’s time to figure out if you’re going to let the doctors kill you or let the cancer kill you.

The cancer industry is a thriving market ready to take all comers. Bring on your cancer!

“We’ll shoot you full of chemicals that will put you on the verge of death, and just before going to the other side we might be able to bring you back from the depths of anguish and hell in our attempt to kill the cancer.  All in a days work to make a buck.”

Our minds can overcome our bodies!

It is said that every human wins on average about six bouts of cancer throughout their lifetimes without even being aware.

Our bodies are our own.  We owe it to ourselves to know them better than we do and to take better care of them than we do.

Sure we are resilient but resilience only goes so far and then you’re just pushing the limits.  So it’s important to understand what our bodies are made of, where those compounds come from and understand the basics of cell biology since we are all made up of trillions of individual cells all functioning on an individual level, all together in harmony for our benefit.

seagullSo our trillions of cells work in unison to do the bidding of the control center in our brain  where all ideas and reactions are given and received and processed; this is mere daily life to all of us.

We receive stimulus from our environments and we respond to that stimulous with the behavior patterns we have been taught and we fall in line with predetermined outcomes based on our genetic makeup, so we have been told; but is there a different truth that has been overlooked?

Why does cancer run in the family?  Why is Alzheimer’s passed on from generation to generation?

Is it possible to break these patterns of disease and forge a new way forward to greater health?  If so then how?  And if it’s possible to do so then that means we are not slaves to genetic code.  So here we are faced with the debate of nature vs. nurture; environment vs. genetics.

Are we more powerful than we have given ourselves credit for?

How is it possible for us to evolve over time into these ingenious human entities that function on such high levels, having come from such species as crawling lumps of slime to chest beating cro-magnon man [uprightus-beat-you-on-the-head-with-a-clubbus] to what we are now if our minds and wills didn’t have the power to make the changes necessary for evolution and survival?

Is it survival of the fittest or is it evolution of the smartest?

Or is it possible that things happen for other reasons and that mankind has figured out some of it and just guessed at the rest in an attempt to connect the dots to fill in the spaces they can’t prove scientifically?

And these spaces they fill are mere holding places, theories; unproven ideas that make sense to a group of thinkers or to the one who pursues an idea until he himself is satisfied.

And these unproven theories or mere guesses that seem plausible under one light that has been shed on the issue thus far, after enough time and repetition are used to fill in the gaps satisfactorily to the degree that somewhere along the way someone calls the theory a fact, and it goes overlooked, unchecked and is somehow suddenly viewed as common knowledge.

And this albeit false common understanding, these unproven theories remain nothing more than educated guesses and so today we have things like the Big Bang Theory and Darwinian logic being out-poured as proven science.

Fifty800BWAnd the energy that has gone into indoctrinating the masses to accept these theories for convenience has overwhelmed the notion that they are plausible guesses and that they may be incorrect, but an entire establishment of academia and standards are then built on their suppositions.

And when someone comes along to remind them that these things are still only theories, not actually reproducible in the scientific laboratory, we are rebutted with the notion that some alternate idea, some other theory of belief that has been held up as an opponent to whatever is at stake, is just as much a fairy tale or unproven lump of conveniently connected dots used to pacify a curious mind, to fit into someone’s dogmatic makeup or construct.

So we are given the rhetoric of Evolution vs. Creationism and all the assumptions that go along those commonly understood theories.

And we are left still with nothing more than debate, opinion and argument that have led to frustration, rancor and division of people who have taken sides rather than peaceful, accepted truth, which is that we can’t prove everything and that just because one thing makes sense to one person it’s still OK that someone else doesn’t get it, or that they get it but don’t  like it so they choose to follow a different set of guidelines.

And this creates division among people and persons and groups, societies, nations, religious lines and cultures, etc.

And sometimes these differences can coexist but sometimes they just can’t; and it’s chaos to try and make them.

It would be like trying to dissolve vegetable oil in water.  It’s just not possible.  They can exist side by side but won’t combine and the longer you leave the two together undisturbed the more separated they become.  And the only way to get them to show any sort of compulsion toward unification is to violently stir them or shake them together, breaking them apart and dividing among themselves into smaller portions until you no longer see large pools of oil and water and it may seem like the oil and water has mixed but it has not.

eggsIt has only been so violently agitated these unified parts were broken apart and mixed together by force, and the only way to continue the false illusion is  to continue to agitate the solution.  Because leaving them to be in nature, they would eventually separate themselves to a more comfortable and natural state.

And so it goes to show that as hard as we try and as much as we hope to be able to prove something or make something that just is not, we have to follow truth.  We have to follow patterns that can be replicated naturally and not forced.  To force things is destructive and chaotic and breeds discontent and dissatisfaction.

Allowing things to settle in naturally feels right to the mind, body and spirit and brings enlightenment, truth and healing to the soul.  Balance can be achieved and harmony can be experienced, but only through the application of truth and correctly understood principles of Natural Law.





The Godfathers of Guitar

18 02 2011

There’s a progression in music, much like the generations that pass as we raise our children, pass on our values and go forward into the world, having influence on so much.  We might feel insignificant while we are bogged down in the drudgery and seemingly mundane detail of every effort it takes to produce what it is we are striving for.

But it’s all worth it!  It pays off, maybe not in the peak of our lives as we would like, but if we persist, endure and do it right our lives and what we create become a crescendo that builds a foundation for those who come after us.  What we do is not lost on the demands of daily life as long as we keep our eyes on the distant goal.

Before I get too far off course, I’ll reel my thoughts back in and start talking about a man named Robert Johnson. Robert Johnson was born in 1911 and only lived to the age of twenty seven, but what he did for music is something that cannot be measured.

This brings me to another point of irony; the great music artists who made a huge splash and shook up the status quo of music in their day, dying at the age of twenty seven.  Robert Johnson, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain.  There I go again getting ahead of myself.  It’s all in my head, but I need to lay it out in some order for it to make any sense.

Everyone has heard the story of the guy who sold his soul at the crossroads for talent, fame and glory.  Charlie Daniels brought it to us and told the story well in his classic song, The Devil Went Down To Georgia.  Did you ever wonder where the story of Johnny and the Devil came from?  It wasn’t Johnny and it wasn’t a fiddle.  It was Robert Johnson with a guitar.

Robert Johnson was a good blues guitar player but he wanted more, he wanted to be the best.  He studied with one of the greats of the time, Son House and used to try to emulate his idol but was unable to play as well.  When Johnson was nineteen he disappeared from Robinsonville, Mississippi for several months and when he came back he had a new guitar technique that nobody had ever played before.

This is where the story gets told, that Robert Johnson, for his passion of wanting to play the guitar so well, took his guitar to a crossroad near the Dockery Plantation at midnight where a large black man appeared to him.  The man took the guitar from Johnson, tuned it, played a couple of songs, and gave the guitar back to him along with total mastery of the instrument.  He was given the gift he sought but in return for this gift Johnson exchanged his soul.

This story makes for great PR but there’s another story that is probably what really happened.  Another player of the time named Ike Zinnerman spent a lot of time with Robert Johnson playing in the local cemetery at midnight, reportedly because it was quiet and nobody was around to disturb them.  This is where Johnson honed his mastery of the instrument, and the cemetery isn’t a bad place to come up with a story about selling one’s soul to the devil in exchange for fame and glory.

With the fame and glory came a tragic end.  Robert Johnson had been playing a certain gig for a few weeks and was flirting with the juke joint owner’s wife.  The man offered Johnson an open bottle of whiskey (he had previously been warned to never accept an open bottle but replied to the man who told him that to never knock a bottle from his hand) and he drank from it.  Reports tell us that the bottle was laced with strychnine and over the next few days Robert Johnson fell ill and eventually died.

Robert Johnson did leave us with an incredible catalog of recorded music that artists of the future would learn from and grow with to produce greater and more influential musical creation for us to partake of.  One in particular, and the one who most all musicians would agree is the standard for rock and roll and blues guitar is James Marshall Hendrix aka Jimi Hendrix.

Jimi Hendrix was born Johnny Allen Hendrix, November 27, 1942.  When Jimi’s dad came back from Europe after World War II he changed Jimi’s name to James Marshall, after his late brother, Leon Marshall.  I’m not sure where the James came from but I like it because we get Jimi spelled in that unique way.  Maybe it was just time to break from the chaos of the past and make things new.  Jimi always had a bright outlook on things and I think Al, his dad, was instrumental in teaching him correct principles.

On a side note, I had the honor of shaking hands with Al Hendrix in the fall of 1991 at a club in Seattle called the Rockandy.  It was a type of gig the Seattle bands put together to follow a theme of the godfathers of rock and roll and this night was Jimi Hendrix theme night.  Twelve Seattle bands came together to perform two Hendrix tunes of their choice and of their interpretation.  No, we didn’t have Nirvana or Soundgarden or Alice in Chains or Screaming Trees or Pearl Jam or Mudhoney or any of the huge list of big-shot Seattle bands you might wish were a part of this story; yeah, and I wish too!  How would that have been?  To meet Al Hendrix and watch Soundgarden knock out a couple Jimi covers for a six dollar entry?  But it wasn’t to be. Although we did get a dramatic performance from a band called The Sky Cries Mary, an obvious reference to Jimi’s song The Wind Cries Mary.  The Sky Cries Mary had some accolades and even made an appearance on the David Letterman show, but for some reason they didn’t receive the strong and wide spread recognition a lot of the projects coming out of Seattle did, which is a cryin’ shame because to be honest their expression through music was far more complex and layered than most everything else, especially at that time. They were never part of the ‘grunge’ scene, nor do I think they ever had any desire to be. They stood head and shoulders apart from the rest of the dank and dirty rock and roll genre that swept through Seattle at that time..

 
I sat with Roderick Romero, a member of The Sky Cries Mary, that night and we talked of musical expression, the layering of sound and the experiences obtained through the use of mind expanding particles introduced to the creative process. It is a conversation that has stayed with me through my life and throughout my creative endeavors. It was a great night, and I am grateful to have had that moment with him; he is an inspired and remarkable artistic visionary.

And there I go again, getting off track.  When it comes to music and the things I’ve seen, I can talk for hours and find myself down the goofiest tangents.

Jimi’s mom died when he was nine, from complications due to her alcohol abuse, and he moved up to Vancouver, BC for a while.  This is where he acquired his first acoustic guitar, from a pawn shop for five dollars.  His dad got it for him because Jimi had been air guitaring on an old broom stick and playing a broken ukulele his dad found while cleaning the garage.

Eventually Al rounded up enough dough to get Jimi his first electric guitar.  In 1958 he got a white Supro Ozark 1560 S, single pickup from Myer’s Music in Seattle, Washington.  He didn’t have an amplifier but Jimi did what he could with what he had and that’s why Jimi Hendrix is the legend he is today; because he felt it and what he felt, he was able to let out his arms and through his fingers, through his guitars and into our ears for the expansion of minds around the musical world.

Jimi took what the godfathers before him did, like Robert Johnson, Son House and Ike Zinnerman and added a new flavor to the mix.  It’s an evolution, and as society in Jimi’s day evolved in technology and industry, so did music in intellectuality.  Thank God Jimi Hendrix was there with his electric guitar to express this new knowledge given us from The Field in the form of music as the floodgates opened and the new energy rolled forward.  The minds who were paying attention and who would not immediately dismiss this new horizon as rebellion and sedition from normalcy opened to the influence of this musical microcosm that had previously existed only in science fiction and in the fantasies of artists.

He had the audacity to play The Star Spangled Banner at Woodstock, and regardless of what most white collar conservatives, flashing down the street, pointing their plastic fingers at Jimi believe, he did it as a tribute to this great nation, not as a desecration of something sacred as our national anthem.  Just because the squares of the day didn’t get it doesn’t mean his art form was nothing short of God’s grace shedding brilliant talent down on a generation of artists to shake up the status quo.  That’s not to say his lifestyle was anything to emulate; maybe something to be learned from, but the authorities of the day tried to dismiss what he was doing as a mockery when it was merely a new form of expression.  And to dismiss the art because of the artist is a shame.  If we were to do that then we might just as well throw out Mozart, Hemmingway and Van Gogh.

Jimi did live fast and died hard.  On September 18, 1970 at the age of twenty seven, Jimi Hendrix died.  It was that night that he had attended a party in London and was picked up by his then girlfriend, Monika Dannemann and driven to her place at the Samarkand Hotel at Notting Hill.  It was no secret that Jimi had an affection for amphetamines and this night he downed nine Vesperax, a German brand sleeping pill whose dosage was one half of a pill.  A few hours after midnight Jimi began to vomit from the overdose but was unconscious from the high dosage and asphyxiated on the red wine that was in his stomach.  Eeeew!

That’s a tragic end to a lifestyle lived.  God bless Jimi Hendrix and may he be forgiven for any trespasses upon the Natural Law.  He was a man of vision and an artist that many followed after.

And after Jimi came many, and there were other masters who deserve mention as Jimi’s peers.  Eric Clapton, Carlos Santana, George Harrison, Jimmy Page and in the years beyond the great sixties and early seventies we had mega freaks like Eddie Van Halen, Randy Rhodes, the Schenker brothers and Stevie Ray Vaughan and even some disgustingly, technically perfect, so perfect it’s not even enjoyable listening, like Joe Satriani and Steve Vai.  But then, thank the heavens; we were blessed in the late eighties with a new son of pure guitar art form who played only because it’s the only thing he could do.  Not for the glory, not for the fame, not for the money; he played from the heart and he gave it everything.

On June 25, 1988 Hillel Slovak, guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers succumbed to the horrors of heroin addiction and left a gaping hole in the world of music.  One of their fans, John Anthony Frusciante had been playing guitar since age nine when he became infatuated with The Germs and learned to play along with their record, GI.  Shortly after that, one of his instructors turned him on to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and John proceeded to emulate Hillel Slovak’s guitar style.  John went on to master the blues scales at then discovered Frank Zappa.  At the age of sixteen, with the permission of his parents, he dropped out of high school after taking a proficiency test and enrolled at the Guitar Institute of Technology.  At one point Frusciante was set on trying out for Frank Zappa’s band but heard that Frank wasn’t too keen on chemical refreshment so John decided, as he knew he was going to indulge in the hedonism of rock stardom, not to even give it a shot.

Frusciante had become friends of the Chili Peppers as their shows were more intimate in the early days when the fans would go gangbusters slam dancing (before it was called moshing) and rarely experience the show visually.  There was a band in LA at the time called Thelonious Monster who was auditioning guitar players.  Anthony Keidis was friends with Bob Forrester of Thelonious Monster and arranged an audition for John.  After seeing the audition, Anthony offered Frusciante a position in the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

John Frusciante was eighteen years old and they called him Greenie.  He fell in quick with the band and followed in Hillel’s footsteps without missing a beat.  It was almost as though he had channeled Hillel’s spirit he played the Chili Peppers’ material so well.  As Slovak was greatly influenced by Jimi Hendrix, so was John Frusciante, and like Hillel, John approached the guitar from a minimalist angle, which likely came from his punk and new wave roots.  And I say God bless you John for not being another over playing virtuoso and laying it down cleanly and simply and beautifully as you have for the years.

The music that John has created with The Red Hot Chili Peppers has given me insight into things that I knew were going on within my own life, but I was unable to touch upon them in any coherent manner.  But when I listened to Californication in February of 2000 while driving from Vancouver, Washington to Salt Lake City to look for a new career, and move my family back home as the wife requested, I heard Anthony telling me about parallel universes and that was something of a catalyst to my thinking toward my belief that this band has in fact, paralleled my entire life with their songs, the stories they tell within the songs and all the drama and in fighting, with Dave Navarro coming into the band during that time I was adopting my two daughters, Tayslie and Ali and I did  not treat them right.  I didn’t have the tools or the skills to be a tender and nurturing parent.  But as time has passed I have grown in knowledge and wisdom and I pray that those beautiful young women forgive me some day of the faults of a young man who was trying his best to do what he was told by those around him and echoing the environment in which he was raised.

And here we are today, loving Stadium Arcadium, again following the patterns of my life.  Every song on that recording speaks profoundly to me at some level of my life at the time it was recorded, from my relationships with younger women and She’s Only 18 (and it actually tells the story of my relationships with Jayne Pederson exactly as it happened, and with another girl named Raquel; it just blows me away how precise the words are to us) to Warlocks when I spent my time in Portland with the hedge witch, Tami to the soul touching song Hey, the last track on the first disc, Mars of the Stadium Arcadium masterpiece; that song, Hey tells the story of the communication between me and my ex wife to the T.  And the song, Charlie is totally Marlene, my angel and my healer. And not to mention their unreleased b-sides recordings that speak directly to me with profound exactness every time I stumble upon them.

I could go on and write volumes.  This means nothing to many and it’s just silliness to some, but for me it’s profound and this is my life.  All things happen for a reason.  There is no such thing as coincidence.  All things have purpose, if you have faith enough to believe on things greater than yourself.

So, from Robert Johnson to Jimi Hendrix and on down through the cacophony of glammed up rock star virtuoso guitar players we are blessed with the tenderness of John Frusciante who expresses the truth right through his instrument and into my ears to resonate with me and validate my existence.

I love you John.  Thank you for everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve given us and everything that is to come.  John Frusciante is a master beyond recognition.








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