Sunday, February 28, 2010

Friday, February 26, 2010

"Another Gone"

David Nolan a dear friend, and comrade in broadcast passed away during the blizzard last night. I hear he had a heart attack while walking out there in that mess. Hell I was out there too,..with the flu as well.

I love extreme weather, esp. snow, and I thought this would be the last major storm of the winter. So did Dave it seems. So there we were,...though not together.

I lose count as to how many have left in the last year or two. Too many. Grief upon grief. One doesn't have time to recover when another blast hits us.

I just mentioned to a friend at the radio station that this is like a war. One of those meat grinder affairs like the American Civil War or WW 1. Where not some, but 'everyone' you know gets it.

This is fucking nuts.

I don't blame you guys for never commenting or coming by this blog anymore. It might be bad luck to be here.

Holy fucking shit.

I still have a copy of the "Fuck You" song he lent me a zillion years ago. We were saving it for when the F.C.C finally changed the adult language rules. We planned to play the damn thing.

Let's see, went:

Fuck You!

Fuck You!

Fuck You!

Fuck You!

Eat Shit!

Eat Shit!

Fuck You!

Fuck You!

...and so on for about 20 minutes.

It was by a short lived early 1980's punk band from somewhere. Dave came by a cassette copy,..yeah "cassette" remember them.

Anyway I think he played it once at 3:00am, but got a warning from the suits. Can't imagine why. Anyway we've been looking forward with infantile glee for a re-match.

I'm keeping that prized relic of a freer age, and will play it in Dave's honor when a sense of humor at last returns to the administrative office.

Goobye Dave,...loves ya kid.


The conspiracy theory at the radio station is that it's the 9/11 poison that we all breathed, ate, and drank back during those early days, and later months after the attack.

We're about four blocks from Ground Zero, and most of us were covering the story or doing tech backup on the Day, and for months after in the middle of that horror. A slow killer like radiation poisoning seems to be wiping us out.

Of course there's no medical coverage for any of us for that. Even though Bush specifically promised he'd see we were 'all' taken care of.

Well he was telling the truth.

...we are indeed being taken care of.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

"My Brother's House"

All is quiet

the rooms are still

books rest on their shelves

eyes glasses in their cases

coats in their closet.

All is quiet.

Except for the kitchen clock.

It still hangs on it's wall

calmly ticking through eternity

as we, crowns of creation, fade like dreams on waking.

Friday, February 5, 2010

"The Day After"

Hi gang. My flu thing is finally breaking. Still some vertigo, and congestion, but much less than before.

Now to all the traditional details of mourning. There's been so many leavings recently that this has become a kind of routine.

Generations btw tend to leave in groups. On my mother's side they kick the bucket in their sixties. On my dad's the leave in their nineties. My last living Uncle, my Uncle "JB" John Baptise was a Baptist minister for near 50 years.

He lived to 96, and was still giving hot'n merry sermons to the day he died.

My family tends towards the clergy, show business, and politics,...all the same really. Me I went into show business after being found unfit for the dog collar.

The catholic church really didn't want black or tan priests. 'Course now they're desperate for anyone warm, and breathing.


They missed out on some serious sermons by giving me the boot. However it all worked out swell. I have a vast congregation on my radio ministry. That's where I've been preaching the good word on what really matters. Love, Eternity, and why so many movies suck.

'dah lawd works in mysterious way She does.

My brother was 63. His end which I'm informed was a hard one came suddenly, and painfully. We'll that's just fucking great.

He didn't deserve that.

You ever notice how the decent folks end up dead in a ditch while the evil live to 110, and croak while screwing a fashion model. Then they have a five hour tribute on CNN saying what a swell murdering bastard they was.

Yeah I'm no longer numb,..I think. I've moved on to anger.

That acceptance stuff will probably kick in next month sometime.

You know the drill. We've all been here a few times now. There is nothing we can really do. Nothing can done for you. My pals are all hugging me, and saying "call me", and they all mean it.

This is wonderful, but it also doesn't help. Aw, it helps, but it doesn't. You know what I mean.

Btw don't put an egg in your microwave.

I thoughtlessly tried this last evening,...boom!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

"Dear John"

I received a phone call Sunday morning saying that my brother John had passed away. My life being the confused, emotional mess it is I didn't listen to this call till Tuesday afternoon.

I really don't like phones.


I have no words. There are no words.

For me time has stopped.

This is an emotional event horizon. A moment without end. A place of no words, no emotion, no light.