Personal Blog: One Last KISS Goodbye

Time to close out the year.  

It's the wee hours of December 28 at the time I write this, as we're staring down the barrel of the New Year.  Every year is interesting, each with its own highs and lows.  Generally, the year's been pretty good.  The fact is, that anything crappy that happens usually bears fruit eventually that brings us into better times.  That's something to keep in mind, specifically when things get rough.

On a personal note... actually this whole blog entry is personal... the last couple of months has been less than great.  The wife's health has presented its share of challenges for her, but she's bounced back from all of it, as she always does.  When (if?) I grow up I hope I get to be as tough as she is.

November 18 was the pinnacle date of the year, kind of, in that we would see KISS for the last time in Montreal with our daughter and her man.  We took off on Friday the seventeenth for Quebec, driving through what would be quite a challenging ride at times, with heavy rain hampering the road conditions.  Generally, though, it was an uneventful trek.  We got there in around nine hours, in spite of the bad weather.  I drove all the way there and then back on Sunday when we left.  When we got to the motel that we'd booked online on Friday night, it was far from overwhelming, but perhaps adequate.  It wound up being a rather sleazy, seedy place in an older part of Montreal, but the room for four adequately enough housed us for the weekend.  It was close enough to the Bell Centre where the show was going to be, maybe a 45 minute walking distance if we'd chosen to do that, which we did.  We thought we'd walk so we could see some of the sights a bit of downtown Montreal.

I remember telling the kids that they'll love Montreal.  We'd seen a few shows there, and the crowd was always raucous and the people gracious and friendly.  Last time we were there for a show was in '05 for the U2 Vertigo Tour, which broke all the records at the time.  We'd seen KISS a couple of times before that.  Every time we'd go, the concert was like a huge party among 18,000 friends.  Janice and me were pretty excited to experience it all again, and to let the kids experience what we did.

It was an odd time for the KISS End of the Road Tour to be winding down, with only two weeks of shows left after this.  The band was to play Quebec City, Ottawa and then Toronto after Montreal.  Thank God we were going to see this.  As anyone who knows me realizes, we were robbed of our opportunity to see this show in Bangor in '20 because the borders closed because of Covid, and Ticketmaster refused to refund our tickets.  So we were out over $400.  Surely we wouldn't get screwed out of seeing this tour again.  Right?

We left the motel around noon-ish, and began our trek on foot for the Bell Centre area.  Montreal is loaded with little shops and boutiques, something for just about everyone.  I'd never seen so many Tesla cars in one place.  You can barely hear those cars when they drive by.  But something seemed different about the city this time.  The people seemed a bit more tense and impatient.  The stores we went into offered less than subpar service.  In fact, one of the only smiles I'd seen was when I stopped to give a homeless man a few dollars.  The vibe in the air was certainly different from times gone by, bearing in mind that it's been eighteen years since we've been there.  But a lot can change in a year... let alone 18.

We had to navigate around long protest marches that were going on in favor of the Palestinians in the Israel/Gaza war.  Lots of cops around keeping things in order.  It was a peaceful protest, though in my opinion pointless.  Nothing these protesters did was going to change anything that was going to happen half a world away from us.  

Ultimately, we settled into a little basement bar downtown - the name of which escapes me at the moment - drawn in by the KISS music that was blaring from their speakers beckoning the likes of ourselves to come in and have a bite.  We did just that.  The people were all KISS fans in there, some wearing makeup and costumes even.  Yet I just didn't get that friendly buzz that we used to get.  Don't get me wrong, everyone was well behaved, but that brotherly feeling amongst everyone was kind of lacking like it was in the past.  Even the servers were kind of cold.  But the food was great.  Janice and me ordered our usuals; she got her Club Sandwich and I got my fish & chips.  I forget what the kids got, but we all enjoyed what we had; though Alexandra wasn't feeling totally great, thanks to Tom.  Cole had an eye on her.  He'd just gotten over a bad bout of norovirus prior to the trip.  We had our meal and we were off to the streets hovering around the Bell Centre until showtime.  The air was quite chilly, so we stopped into a shop where I bought a toque.  We also stopped into a Tim Horton's, where we sipped our beverages to bide the time away.  

To the venue we go, with the throngs of KISS fans - you'd know them when you saw them - descended upon the arena.  I was a bit nervous about the tickets being on my phone, worrying about connectivity issues, but those fears were unfounded as we were quickly admitted when our turn came.  We checked out the merch table, which had a monster lineup of fans waiting to snap up the various items being offered.  Janice really wanted the hoodie they had, but someone had bought the last one just before she could reach it.  And that last one went to Alexandra.  No worries, we can just get one for her online, and probably cheaper, since the venue tacks on their own fees for selling the merch.

Then it was time to take our seats.  It was then that I realize we'd gotten the shittiest tickets for a KISS show ever.  The stage was massive, but in an arena of that size from the balcony, it seemed smaller than it was.  It was the biggest stage production KISS had ever put on, and it showed; but from our vantage point, we didn't get to see it head-on as if we had seats in the bowl.  The seats themselves were cramped and tight.  And it seemed that the show was standing room only in the whole arena except for the section we were in.  Janice and me were the only ones standing and screaming in our section at times, and the guy sitting next to Cole was being a complete dick with his man-spread seating.  Some kid in front of us was busy recording the whole concert on his phone not even interacting with the show.  And some big goof behind us dressed up as The Demon poked at Janice telling her to sit down as Paul Stanley flew to our area of the venue.  "I got boots that make me nine feet tall!  I can't stand up!"  Well you should've thought about that beforehand going to a KISS show then, shouldn't ya, cupcake?  He muttered something in French and Janice turned and barked at him, "ENGLISH."  It didn't get much better.  Somebody else in our section threw a full glass of beer at that same guy but wound up dousing us, too.  All said, it was the worst crowd experience I'd ever had at a KISS show.

But as far as the concert goes, it was a wild one.  Lots of fire, bombs, effects, confetti, even balloons filled the air at various points of the show.  Gene and Tommy (band members) got on lifts that took them overhead midway through the arena.  Paul, as I said earlier, flew to our part of the building for a few songs.  Lasers galore.  The video screens made sure that even seats like ours could get a good view of the band, which was nice.  Eric's drums rose a couple of times - each guy got their own solo spot, specifically designed to give the rest of the band a breather from the more than two hour set.  Gene didn't fly to the ceiling this time though, opting instead for a lift that brought him up, probably for stability purposes.  Not to mention The Demon's not getting any younger, in his mid 70s.  He did the whole breathing fire/blood spitting thing, complete with probably the most evil looking imagery even by Gene's standards.  The band was TIGHT.  I'm not sure if they've ever sounded better, but KISS has always sounded great to me live.  I neglected to mention that the opening band, Crown Lands - a two-piece outfit - was quite good, to me reminiscent of earlier Rush, and they were given a ridiculous amount of stage room and lights, and the sound for them was as good as KISS' was.  KISS has never been about trying to show up an opening band.  In fact they'd help them however they could.  But back to KISS.... it was pretty cool also seeing Sam, finally, make the stage.  Sam is the giant serpent on

Gene's side of the stage that would blow smoke at various points of the show.  There's not much for me to say about the stage pods - giant octagonal light rigs, probably over a dozen of them, that rose and descended at various times of the show, with all different colors and imagery on their video screens.  I say not much to say, because from our point of view, we only really saw them from the edges instead of face-on.  By the time the encores came around, we all knew we were going to see the guys playing 'Rock and Roll All Night' for the last time, and the crowd was bonkers for the umpteenth sing-along.  This audience, I have to say though, is not the same audience we're used to witnessing in Montreal.  Loud and boisterous, yes, but Montreal usually went beyond that.  This isn't limited to the people in the venue.  We got this same vibe from everyone in the city.  Perhaps the air was tense from the demonstrations - or perhaps it's the population explosion of Montreal.  The Quebec government isn't a favorite in the polls these days, with a lot of segregation issues and terrible linguistic policies that make it often less than welcoming.  I know that we four didn't exactly feel the love from Montreal this trip.

The show got over, we left for the streets to hail down a cab back to the motel.  Pretty cheap, really, $25 got the four of us back.  We had a bite to eat, with probably the worst Big Mac I've ever had that seemed like it was assembled by a blind man with half a pint of sauce.  One gas station I went to to try to get a pack of Tums, I was met with an attendant who didn't understand a lick of English and he just looked at me like I was an alien, so I said 'nevermind' and moved on.  That's generally the reception we got from this trip.  We got up the next morning and didn't waste a whole lot of time packing up and getting back on the road home.  

And the road home was pretty good.  Another nine hour drive, uneventful, with the weather being far better except for the odd snow squall.  We got home early Sunday evening, leaving us lots of time to unwind before we would all be home to decompress from the trip.  All in all, this wasn't a great experience.  We took in the show, which was the best part of everything of course, but I will say that we won't be going back to Montreal anytime soon for any reason.  In fact, now that KISS is done, I don't know that we'll hit the road for any show now.  I certainly won't accept nosebleed seats for a concert ever again, either.  Still, Alexandra and Cole say they really enjoyed themselves, aside from various issues I already mentioned, and they were appreciative of all of it.  It was actually a Christmas/birthday present for Alexandra.  We paid for pretty much everything for them and were delighted to.

The following three days were something else.  I was still recovering from nearly 20 hours of driving over three days when I took a bit of a bad trip with one of my cannabis oil doses, thinking that it would brighten my mood a little, but the opposite happened, not necessarily because of the oil.  I was in bed for three straight days without eating or drinking anything.  Literally.  Not a drop of water or a crumb.  There are other reasons I was spiraling that I can't get into here.  I finally came around a bit Thursday that week, but would need a lot longer to recover.

Alexandra didn't fare so well.  Upon returning, shortly after she wound up with her own bout of norovirus.  Come to find out, after the KISS show in Montreal, they went to Quebec City, but then had to cancel the next three shows because of Paul Stanley getting sick from what appeared to be the same vicious virus.  He even said he wondered if it might be 'his time', he was that sick.  So this norovirus is a particularly harsh one, not that it's ever a picnic.  But that's how close we were to missing this show, again.  Man would I have been upset!

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to get some things done that were gnawing at me.  I needed to get a couple of remote starters for the car, because the ones we had for the last 13 years kind of bit the biscuit.  Plus there was a chip in the windshield that we took on our Montreal trip that I had to get repaired, which wound up spreading, and we don't have comprehensive insurance on our vehicle, to that set us back $400.  I had to get my license renewed too, another hundred or so dollars.  Needless to say, this made us have to scrimp when it came to Christmas.  But, such is life.  No one gets a free ride.

I remember the day I got all that done, we thought we'd celebrate a bit and get stuffed cheesy bread and pasta from Domino's.  When I came back from picking up the order, I found Janice in the bathroom being sick.  So yes, Janice's number was called for the norovirus and now it was her turn.  Boy, was she sick.  Scary sick.  I'd never seen her that sick from a stomach virus before, and it just wasn't letting up.  She spent a whole day running to the bathroom with it coming out of both ends.  It was so sad and upsetting that it made me cry.  I did what I could for her, tucking her in, rubbing her head, doting on any of her needs.  It was crushing to witness - the person I love the most being so ill.  She goes through enough with the illnesses she has without having to deal with this.  And again, this isn't just any stomach virus.  This one was particularly vicious.  I read up on some things about this bug going around, and apparently it's pretty widespread.  I even Googled if there'd ever be a cure or better treatment for norovirus.  Come to my surprise, they are actually making headway on an eventual vaccine for this, though it's probably a few years away.  I thought maybe I'd take some kind of preventative measure if I could.  I read that oil of oregano is shown to be at least somewhat effective against stomach bugs.  When I went to the store to get Janice supplies for her pending BRAT diet, I picked up a bottle of oregano oil capsules.  I took one when I got home.  Janice finally seemed to be settling down, though recovery would take days.

But wait, there's more!

When I woke up late Friday morning, I went to the bathroom and, boom, it was my turn.  I mounted the porcelain throne and grabbed the wastebasket, and the room started spinning.  My God, there's nothing worse in the world to me than puking.  I've written about it before here, that when I was young, up until I was about ten or eleven, I was sick almost every Christmas.  A couple of times I was so sick that I couldn't hardly move.  My brother Pete would attest to that, because I remember him carrying me to the bathroom so I could do my business.  Memories of all those times stuck with me, and I've never been able to calm down while being sick since, so I gasp and choke for air and panic.  Janice and me both think I have PTSD from those wild vomiting days when I was young.  Alas.... in this particular instance, I didn't throw up.  I felt like I was going to, but I didn't.  This made me wonder if that oregano oil actually had an effect on the virus in my stomach.  My gut, though, different story.  It came out of me like a firehose, as Janice put it.  So much, and so bad, in fact, that when I stood up to clean myself off, ... let's just say the next thing I remember I was hearing "Michael!  Michael!  MIKE!"  I lifted my head to find myself on the bathroom floor, having lost consciousness and cracked my head on a couple of things on the way to the floor.  Janice was beside herself.  I re-mounted the throne and let it rip some more.  Janice.... God love her.... cleaned me up and helped me back to bed.  I was white as a sheet and sweating like a racehorse, she said.  Of course, that wasn't the end of it.  About an hour later, I hobbled back to the bathroom and took a seat - more firehose-worthy dumpage ensued.  This time Janice had her eye on me, pride be damned.  I once again stood up to clean myself off, and once again down I went, out cold, cracking my right side on the bathtub on the way down.  Janice woke me up again, prying me off of the bathtub, once again cleaning me off.  I was out cold so I was dead weight until I came to after a couple of minutes.  The thing that bothers me the most about all of this is how this must look to Janice.  We both love and care about each other so much that it's quite distressing when one of us sees the other in this kind of shape.  I had to go back to the bathroom a few more times, but it was uneventful, and I just had the runs.  So even though I didn't throw up, it was as if I had.  Come to find out, upon me investigating, there really is a phobia about being sick like that. I have never had an easy time being sick - I can handle a cold or even a flu, even Covid, but not a cursed stomach virus.  My life is literally in danger now if I have to deal with that, to the point that Janice wants to be near if it happens, because the last three times now, I've blacked out and fainted, and twice gotten head injuries over it.  This time, I wound up with three goose eggs on my noggin from collapsing.  Even right now I can feel them.  And on this particular occasion, I actually cracked a rib on the bathtub.  We even worried there might be a floating rib from this, but I got x-rayed and the crack is indeed there, but no floaters.  Thank God.  But now I have the next month-plus to get over this rib injury.  Just what is it with me and rib injuries, I have no flippin' idea.

To add icing to that cake, I wound up with a monster sinus headache that lasted well over a day, bad enough to make sunlight a dire enemy.  I'm prone to these often, so I have Sudafed Advance to ward these headaches off, very successfully.  I used to lose a few work days due to those.  But thankfully I found S/A and was able to take care of it.  Here's the thing, though.... there's a shortage everywhere of this particular med.  So I didn't have it this time and had to ride it out.  And man, that was a long 24-36 hours.  Excruciating at times.  But I got through it.

So for anyone reading this thinking I'm one of those man-babies when he gets sick, you're right.... kind of.  Only when I have to be sick to my stomach.  And it stems from childhood trauma.  It makes me shudder to think of what might've happened had Janice not been around when all this happened to me. 

I've read that cognitive behavioral therapy can help this a great deal, but alas, I've been seeking that for my mental illness since forever.  I'm convinced there is no help for me and that I'm on my own.  I actually need help in that area now more than ever, but it just isn't there for me.  My cries for help fall on deaf ears of professionals.  Knowing this just makes me even more down.  I feel like I'm quite literally on my own.

Anyway, Christmas indeed wound up being super low key.  I like to read for mass at church at Christmas time, but I had to tell them I couldn't because of all this kerfuffle.  So I've basically been housebound for the last four or five days.  Janice seems to be mostly recovered, thankfully, as she has work and all.  I'm much better now, but still in recovery of sorts.  All this being connected to the PTSD thing, it plays on my mind as much as it does my body.  At least digestively, things appear to be nearly better.  And the goose eggs have shrunk.  The thought of a potential concussion isn't lost on me either.  Like I need more of those!

What we've decided to do about Christmas dinner is put it off until New Year's Eve and have the kids over then.  We were just in no shape at all to do it over the actual Christmas holidays.  The bright side of it all is, we got through it.  That virus is behind us now, and we're a bit stronger because of it.

Also, it was my birthday on the 26th, and though I don't post hardly at all on facebook, I do appreciate the birthday wishes.  If you're one of those folks and you're reading this, thank you.

I'd like to thank my friend Wayne for checking in on me, too.  A little thoughtfulness can go a long way.  I think he realizes that.

This will likely be my last blog entry for the year.  What a way to go out, eh?  Frig.

I hope you had a great holiday, and that you have a great New Year's to go with it.  Stay safe and love and care for each other.

Personal Blog: KISS Was There

KISS was there when Dad died in February, 1978.

KISS was there when my friend Darren introduced me to you with "Destroyer".  Then I wore out my brother Rick's "KISS Alive!" 8 track.

KISS was there when I got hit in the forehead by a man's line drive baseball and suffered a concussion.

KISS was there when I needed to get into real rock and roll.  So was Jim Rice and the Red Sox.  KISS had lots of releases around this period and made for the best distraction at the worst of times.

KISS made me pick up drumsticks made of an old wooden broom handle to play on cardboard boxes and pots and pans.  My brother Greg then bought me a drumset and even gifted me lots of KISS records.

KISS was there when I met my buddy Larry in grade seven, and we bonded over our fandom for KISS and learned our skills as a guitar player and drummer.  He's a good friend to this day.

KISS was there when I had trouble in school, with what I know now was a learning disability. 

 'Dynasty' was my record of choice when I was down in the dumps.

KISS was there with a new album out for me to decompress from life with.  "Unmasked" was on the turntable for months.

KISS was there when I nearly gave up drums, but heard Eric Carr and just kept playing even harder.  "Creatures of the Night" literally changed my life.  Carr is tattooed on my left arm.

KISS was there when I failed in school and was tempted to give up.  They said Don't.  After all, they didn't, after they released "The Elder".  And 'I believe in ME'.

KISS was there when people made fun of my complicated acne and girls stayed away.  The asskicker album "Lick It Up" made me smile when I thought I'd lost it.  "Animalize" would do the same.

KISS was there when as a teen I needed positivity to balance out the negative. "Asylum" would energize me.

KISS was there when I was getting beaten up at school for liking them - they said GET UP.

KISS was there when when I was hit by a car three times in the early 80s, and fought through serious concussion issues.

KISS was there to keep me cheery with my Mom, who needed someone to make her laugh in the years after Dad passed.

KISS was there when friends came and went and I felt like I was alone.

KISS was there when I finally got a girlfriend.  'Creatures' is the soundtrack for that time for me.

KISS was there when I met my first serious girlfriend, Michelle - I scrawled "KISS Lick It Up!" on my desk in grade 11.  A girl replied and wrote "It's only right, now!"  And we got together and went out for seven years, and she's still a great friend today.

KISS was there when I endured a bleeding ulcer that could have killed me.  They had lots of video releases that kept my imagination busy.

KISS was there when I contemplated suicide, a result of so many head injuries and a lack of knowledge back then about how to treat them.  Hearing any KISS album helped fix this.

KISS was there when I failed grade 12 and couldn't graduate with my girlfriend.

KISS was there when I got my first job in '84 (worked there for seven years), and I rattled the store windows on the night shifts with my KISS CDs and tapes - they kept me awake!

KISS was there when I bonded with another good friend Pete over KISS fandom.  We then formed various jam bands and played their songs.

KISS was there when I convinced my band at the time, Asylum, to play "Love Gun" and "Rock and Roll All Night", and even got crowds singing along with us, thanks to another great friend, Wayne, another friend I met through KISS interest.

KISS was there, at Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto on the 'Crazy Nights' tour, when three friends and me took a torturous train ride from Moncton to Toronto, barely slept, and tore our voices out screaming along with KISS.  

KISS was there in Toronto with Whitesnake and blew the 'snake away, even without the HITS stage.

KISS was there when I took my first jaunt to the U.S. and saw them in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, with three great friends.  It would so sadly be the last time I saw my hero, Eric Carr.

KISS was there when my Mom took ill with dementia.  I stayed home and didn't move out until she had to go.  KISS music was a way of assuring that it'll be alright.  Their "Revenge" record was their saying to everyone who said 'they're done' and giving them a huge middle finger.

KISS was there when I broke my foot and lost my job, my girl, my grandmother, and eventually, another job.  They just kept releasing albums, giving me the exit ramp away from stress.

KISS was there when I began to date my wife Janice, with whom we bonded over "God Gave Rock and Roll To You II" - She heard the harmonies and has been a fan ever since.

KISS was there when my wife and great friend Steve (God rest his soul) saw the 'Revenge' tour in Toronto, after driving for 16 hours to get there, and they were at MuchMusic studios with a throng of us looking in from outside and nearly shattered the windows.  Gene points up and says, "Moncton!"

KISS was there when I lost my job and couldn't get another for three years, even after going back to college.  You can't listen to KISS and not get your mood up.

KISS was there when my girlfriend (wife to be) Janice would bear our one and only child, Alexandra, who has been a fan literally since day one.  Born into 'The Army'.

KISS was there with 'Unplugged' and 'Carnival of Souls', to help me keep the faith with rock and roll when it was dying.

KISS was there for us all when they announced the reunion tour.  I saw it with my friends Tim and Pete and Al.  It was a magical time.  I got my job for the next 11 years as a driver at the same time.

KISS was there for me when Mom died of her disease.  I remember her saying one time, "do you think Gene Simmons would sing "When You Wish Upon A Star" at my funeral?"  Now it's all I associate that song with: My Mom's love for it.

KISS was there for my wife and me when we got married, and the honeymoon was the 'Psycho Circus' tour.  Our song, of course, is "Forever".  She proposed to me, so I sprung the surprise wedding on her.

KISS was there in Montreal when we took in 'The Farewell Tour' (really farewell to members Ace and Peter).  It was a fantastic but bittersweet show.  

KISS was there through the '00s, even if they didn't release new stuff.  If something's wrong, get your KISS records out and shout it out loud.

KISS was there in Halifax my wife and daughter went there to see KISS in front of 30,000 fans.  

We saw them in Mansfield, MA on the 'Sonic Boom' tour.  We saw them in Saint John, New Brunswick and again in Halifax for the 'Monster' album two nights in a row.  

KISS was there when Steve died in '15.  Steve was such a die hard fan that he requested 'Black Diamond' be played at his funeral.  It was strangely moving.

And we will be there, Janice my wife, Alexandra my daughter, and her boyfriend Cole for KISS November 18 in Montreal on the 'End of the Road' tour, all the way from Moncton.  They will end it on December 2 in New York.

Thank you, KISS, for having my back throughout my life.

Opinion: About face

As the last week begins before we take off for Montreal for the last KISS show we'll ever see, I thought it might be time to talk a bit here about what's been going on.

Given that I've at least temporarily given up on facebook, I have not indeed given up on my blog page, where I feel better about talking about myself than on social media.  I thought I'd give an explanation for my absence there, for anyone who might care at all - and I should stress it doesn't matter if you don't.

Here's the thing about facebook for me:  I thought I'd give it an extended break and see how it affects my general view, where it's commonly noted these days that getting away from it improves one's outlook.  I'm here to tell you that this is all true.  

I keep my facebook messenger open, though, for anyone who wants to contact me that way.  Though I still have to field the odd joke or forward like traditional e-mail.  I'm not a fan of that stuff, if I'm being honest.  I would rather messenger be a more personal space for discussion.  I don't want to put anyone off about my stance on this either - I'm not doing this to offend anybody at all.

But I am doing it as a part of my effort to attain a good level of self-care via my own mental health.  I've taken a few steps back from facebook and Instagram and realized just how vain those places can be.  And I've been a part of that!  Not proclaiming innocence, here.  In fact, I look back on a lot of my activity on social media over the years and cringe at some of the things I've said and posted.  Even recently.

It's occurred to me that we don't need to put our views on politics on full display for the world to see all the time, if any time at all.  Before social media, the only way you'd do that is have face to face conversation with someone.  And you'd temper your remarks, being mindful of whomever it is you're talking to.  With social media, you're giving blanket statements without any regard for how you might come across to someone else.  Thus revealing problems with the written word.... with the number one problem there being context and perception.  How you speak something can be a night and day difference from how you print it.  And I really believe people's sensitivity needs to be considered.  I know what some might say if they read that.... "oh, you mean the snowflakes."  Which only would solidify my argument.  

The whole "Snowflake" moniker, toward someone who appears sensitive, is absolutely offensive to me.  Here's the thing... since facebook and others have come to prominence, mental health issues have only increased in numbers.  When you say something like what you're reading here right now in print, you're saying in your own mind how it's being said.  You're not saying it how I might say it.  Verbal expression would be key in how you perceive messaging.  Not to mention, unless the user deletes what they've written, the written word is there to stay and isn't going anywhere.  Words in the wind pass the instant they're said, relying only on the memory of the person they're spoken to for record.  This isn't all to say that the spoken word is necessarily better than the written one - but the written word needs more care in its crafting, given its relative permanence.

Thus, I've taken a sabbatical from facebook and Insta.  I am on Twitter/X, but really just to see what others are talking about.  Engaging in social media conversations opens that door just a crack for misinterpretation, which can wind up being quite damaging.  If I'm on facebook every day, or semi-regularly even, then I'm expected to say Happy Birthday or Happy Anniversary or Congratulations for whatever, and if I don't, I'm not a "friend".  Not a real one.  What a load of horseshit.  If we gauge each others' friendships based on our social media presence, then we don't actually have a life at all, do we?  At least not with those who merit friendships that way.

I'm not saying, either, that I haven't taken part in that very type of conduct.  Like I said, I cringe at some of the things I've posted in the past.  I'm far from a perfect friend to anyone.  Even some blogs in the past I feel are cringeworthy.  But when it comes to my blog page, you don't have to visit it.  When you go to facebook, you have all your "friends" right there in your face telling you something that just might piss you off that you didn't have to see in the first place.  That you didn't want to see.  At least with this blog page, you have a general idea of what you'll get because it's only me.  My point of view IS the point of this page.  And my point of view is no more valid than yours, just because it's on a blog on the internet.  But, sometimes it can be entertaining.  In my case, I kind of hope for that.

I read recently that a potentially cataclysmic event could happen in the next year, with solar flares possibly being so severe that it could disable the internet entirely, because it relies so heavily on satellites.  What if the internet were wiped out?  What would we do?  Beyond business transactions and power sharing, etc., we would actually be forced to talk to each other.  I think that's a nightmare scenario in itself for a lot of us.  But that's only because we've let social media rewire how we're expected to communicate with one another.  The more distant the contact, often the more distant the relationship.  There's face to face conversation - then there's the postal letter - then there's the telephone - then there's social media - and now texting.  The next form of communication that arrives to us will likely pull us even further away from one another.  I have social anxiety, so chronic that it forced me out of work permanently.  I have to wonder if this would be so if it weren't for the faux-connectivity the internet has provided us.  I only started hating the phone after social media showed up.  It seems the more "connected" we become, the more we de-evolve, actually.  And I don't know if this is something that can be reversed, short of a potential disaster like I noted above.

Anyway, to those who I might have miffed by not being present online, it's not some kind of personal affront.  Not as much as it's an experiment of my own to see how distancing myself from social media affects my own health.  And I would have to say, after over a month, everyone should at least try doing this.  It really does change your outlook.

I'll continue to keep this blog active, though.  I like to write.  I also very much appreciate you reading what I write, should you be reading this right now.  

Thanks for visiting my humble blog.  

Special thanks to Kelly.  (she knows why)

Music: Stick Slingers

While the wife and me were out for a spin a while ago, I had the sudden urge to pop in a CD that I hadn't heard in its entirety for some time.  Yes' "Big Generator".  I remember I got the cassette for Christmas back in the 80s from my then-ladyfriend Michelle and played the heck out of it.  When I switched over to CDs, my friend Pete bought me that format of the record and I gave him the cassette.  

It's a remarkable album, really.  A lot of the songs stick out for me for various reasons, not the least of which is Jon Anderson's incredible voice and harmonies, and he's such a prolific writer.  Also, though, the drumming of Alan White, one of my favorite drummers in a long list of them.  His sound is so snappy with tons and tons of tasty fills, and he never overplays.  White is gone now, having passed away a little over a year ago.  That saddened me, because even though my hopes of ever seeing Yes live were slim at best, now I'll never get to see him play, and he was one of a kind.

On Yes' "90125" record, released almost 40 years ago (!!!), I was taken by my first listen of their "Owner of a Lonely Heart" single.  The drums stand out almost immediately with that snappy snare sound that caught my attention in an instant.  This was my introduction to Yes, who formed actually back in '68, and changed incarnations many times over the years.  Every musician in that band is impeccable.  But I only really connected with Yes from the "90125" record forward.  This band, I would say, is probably the most prominent of the pioneers of prog rock; with "90125" being a bit more on the pop side, but on "Generator" they sort of veered back to their prog roots a bit more.  I like modern prog, not so much anything before the 80s, though.  And I'm still choosy about it now - but when it clicks with me, I dig right in.  Asia is another band that was prog-ish, but more on the pop side.  Their drummer, Carl Palmer, was fantastic too.  His style is a bit more active, but what he plays always fits.  Asia's original lineup in '82 had two Yes members; I hesitate to say "former" members, because they seem to go back and forth from Yes to Asia a lot.  The most notable member in Asia for me was John Wetton though, whose voice is one of my all-time favorites.  He died in '17... sadly without any real fanfare.  His baritone was distinctive and full of feeling.  His bass playing was exceptional too.

But back to Alan White... a fellow named Jay Schellen replaced him, as per White's wishes, apparently.  Mr. Schellen was a huge fan of White's drumming, so he seems an appropriate replacement.  I've never heard him yet, though.  I wonder if his sound is like White's.  I have to assume it is if he was such a huge fan.  White's snare sound is one I've tried emulating sometimes over the years, and you could hear it if you heard me playing back in the day.

There are other drummers too, though, that I really liked that I took to.  I remember as a boy in grade seven, the first thing that made me get into drums was KISS' "Alive!" album, pretty much start to finish.  Peter Criss is one of the all time greats of rock drumming, in my own opinion.  He took lessons from swing king Gene Krupa, after all - Gene Freakin' Krupa.  You can certainly hear the swing influence in Criss' style, most notable for me as a drummer using a tightly closed hi-hat a lot, which rock drummers seldom use.  A more washy, splashy hi-hat is most common and kind of takes away from the actual sound of drums, if used too much.  Which I admittedly have been guilty of.  I remember grabbing a bunch of boxes that Mom used to have from getting groceries at the grocery store, and I'd take them and beat out "100,000 Years" on "Alive!" with a pair of drumsticks I whittled out of an old broomstick.  I'd invite friends over sometimes to watch me.  I had no idea how to play drums at that time, so when my brother Greg bought me a used small set of sparkle-blue Silvertone drums, I didn't have much of a clue what the hi-hat or bass drum pedal was for, so I had to figure it out on my own by watching drummers on TV.  My newfound buddy Larry played guitar already, so we kind of learned our chops together in those early years.  Larry was my age, early teens, and was a smoking hot player even then, and he only got better.  I did too, I guess, but I'd really rather not toot my own horn.  But I will say that all the head trauma I experienced probably messed my noggin up on timing issues, even to this day, but I'm far more conscious of it.  Doesn't matter, it's fun to do. I'd love to have a band together again sometime and just work up our own cover versions of songs and have fun playing in public someplace.  But that ship may have sailed on me.  I played some shows in the late 80s, and then got spurned by a lot of bands I played with or tried out for, for whatever reasons,  I helped form YQM with a couple of friends, played one show, released a rather unfinished CD, and the door pretty much closed after that.  I'll never give up drums, but opportunities to play with others just aren't there anymore.

Nonetheless, besides the gentlemen I just mentioned, here's some other drummers I emulated or got influence from, in no particular order, except for the first...

Eric Carr - Definitely my all-time favorite drummer.  The guy could write, play guitar and bass, sing, and got ample opportunity to do it all during his short career before he cruelly died the exact same day as Freddie Mercury of cancer.  I feel like he really never got his due.  When my old Silvertone drums bit the biscuit and I had nothing to play, I just about gave it up.  Peter Criss had left KISS, and didn't even play on anything substantially anyway after KISS' "Alive II" record.  Carr came into the picture and first drummed on the puzzling "The Elder" album debuting for the band; but it was the next record where he gave KISS the desperate kick in the ass they needed, and played some of the finest drum tracks in the history of rock, to me.  Lots of drummers refer to that "Creatures of the Night" record as "the drum album" because it was so thunderous.  It excited me enough to start playing again, even if it was on Tupperware containers.  I eventually saved up enough money from my paper route to buy another used drum kit, and with the inspiration from Eric Carr, beat the snot out of the things with Larry playing guitar.  Man, the power that Carr had playing drums with KISS... it saddens me to think too much that he's just not here anymore.  I feel like even better years were ahead of him.  Carr played on five more studio releases before he passed away in '91.  It's tough to say what my favorite track of Carr's is... "Saint and Sinner" on "Creatures" has a real creative groove to it that I even ripped off here and there.  A runner up might be "Forever" on their "Hot in the Shade" album.  It's a tender, loving ballad... until Carr brings the thunder and wakes the song up.  His John Bonham influence is shining through pretty bright here.  He gives the song exactly what it needs in all the right places.

Stewart Copeland - Sticksman for The Police.  My head turned to The Police when I heard their third record, "Zenyatta Mondatta", and the crack and energy that spewed out of the speakers was nothing short of electric.  If Eric Carr's style inspired me to continue playing, Copeland inspired the way my drums sounded.  I'd tune my snare drum as tight as I could to emulate The Police.  I positioned my drums low and flat like he did, which forced my posture to become more relaxed and made me more visible, even.  Not that I even considered that.  All those Police records have really tasty sounding drums on them, but "Zenyatta" was my clear favorite.  Sadly I never got to see Copeland live, though.  My favorite song he's played on is tough... but I might go with "Voices Inside My Head", an instrumental with a real sonic vibe that paves the way to some real feisty fills by Copeland towards the end.  I'd give "Zenyatta"s "When the World Is Running Down" a fairly close runner-up.  I have great memories of playing that with Pete when we jammed.

John Bonham - Kind of a no brainer... but I really only got into Zeppelin around the late 80s when I started jamming a lot with my friend, bass player Pete.  Finally I got to play with a bass player!  A drummer can only become so good until he learns to jibe with a four-stringer.  And Pete and me just naturally synched.  We provided some pretty good punch to whatever band we were playing for.  He was a big Zep fan and I found out more about them from him, eventually wondering what the hell took me so long to get into it.  Bonham was Eric Carr's biggest influence, as you can clearly hear.  What I liked about Bonham the most was his less-is-more style, though he brought the speed when it was called for, and also the shuffle in a lot of his beats.  In this age of programmed drums and drum triggers, you can't really hear that kind of style anymore.  My opinion on drum triggers is they helped usher in the use of drum machines, because to have triggers is almost the same thing.  They take away the humanity of the playing.  When Bonham died, Zeppelin ceased to be, justly so I think.  You really can't replace a guy like him.  Charlie Watts is great for the Stones, one of the greatest really.  But it's hard to say the Stones can't go on without him.  And they are.  I'd say my favorite track of Bonham's is "Achilles' Last Stand", which chugs along like a steroid-laden locomotive; with maybe "Kashmir" as a runner up.

Ringo Starr - If any drummer taught me that subtlety can sound good, that'd be Ringo.  I would say he's the most underrated rock drummer in history.  I heard so many people crap on his playing because maybe he wasn't Keith Moon or something.  But try to picture Keith Moon playing for The Beatles.  I really didn't pay much attention to the bubble-gum Beatles at all, it was the more proggy sound they experimented with in the latter half of their lifespan that I grabbed onto.  Some of the stuff he played was just so off the wall that if you were a fan of early Beatles, you might not think it's the same guy.  Maybe my favorite performance of his is "Abbey Road"s "Come Together" - no one ever played like that before and made it sound so great.  "Magical Mystery Tour" might come in second, with the great teasing tempos.  The song's beginning and ending are like the North and South poles, different but necessary to begin and close out the song, and Ringo carries both of those.

Alex Van Halen - I'll say this about AVH... it has to have been a bit of a drag to be as great a drummer as he is in a band with the legendary Eddie, his brother, but he was content to let his brother shine.  The sad thing with AVH is, I really think he'll only be as appreciated as he should be when he passes.  That's how it was with Freddie Mercury - The U.S. press dragged him through pig slop until he died.  The old saying "everyone loves a dead person" is applicable there. I loved playing his stuff on drums, but there's some stuff that I just can't.  There's a reason why you don't hear cover bands playing the ultra popular "Hot For Teacher", and it's not just Eddie's playing, it's his brother's contributions that stick out in a case like that.  His use of the cowbell was so perfectly placed.  You can't play the start of "Dance the Night Away" without it.  But the track I really love is "Fair Warning"s "Hear About It Later", one of my favorite songs EVER all around.  That drum break with the cowbell before the guitar solo is iconic to me, and so friggin' fun to play.  AVH's playing left an emotional mark too, in songs like "HAIL", "I'll Wait" and "Romeo Delight", to name a few.  His is another snare sound I've tried to copy.  The way he uses the crash/ride cymbal so effectively through his career made me seek out what model he plays, which was an 18" Paiste Rude crash/ride.  Yeah, those suckers aren't cheap.  I still don't have one.

Jerry Gaskill - My old pal Steve, God rest his soul, introduced me to King's X back in the late 80s when I was working as a clerk at a corner store called Green Gables.  He came in and handed me a tape of theirs called "Gretchen Goes To Nebraska", and I popped it into the player I had at work for the night shift and listened to it a couple of times.  It didn't really grab me.  It was borderline prog, but heavy and very melodic, and you could clearly hear the chops in all three musicians.  I gave it another chance.  Then another.  And before I knew it, those songs wound up engrained in my head, and I became obsessive with them.  I sought out their other records and got them and have been a fan since.  I was fortunate enough to see them in Toronto in the early 90s on their "Dogman" tour, then again four years ago or so in Portland, Maine.  Jerry's drumming stuck out pretty big time for me, it was so powerful and grooved with Doug Pinnick's bass playing, and he never overplayed or did anything that didn't fit their songs to a 'T'.  It didn't matter how difficult the playing was to him, either, when it came to him singing, he's just so well rounded.  If I had to pick a favorite song with is playing, besides the title song, it might be "Don't Care" on "Dogman", a slow, prodding, punch-in-the-gut of a tune that allowed him to bust out toward the end with a ferocity that matched the song's subject matter.  Runner up might be a ripper of a tune called "Give It Up" on their "Three Sides of One" record that came out a year ago.  Again, I love how he locks in to good with Pinnick's bass playing.  He plays a relatively small kit, too, but brings the thunder like it was an AVH kit.

Eric Singer - I was real fortunate to have met Singer in 08 when he was touring with Alice Cooper on a brief break from touring with KISS.  Singer's style makes me think of a studio musician's, because he's so perfect and precise with his playing, he often doesn't even need a click when he records.  He's played with so many acts like Black Sabbath and Lita Ford and others, and he was always able to match his style with whomever he was playing for.  He really made his mark on KISS' "Revenge" record, though, when he subbed for Eric Carr, who fell ill with cancer at the time, and eventually took the spot when Carr passed.  It was a great fit.  Singer's very knowledgeable about all styles and is quite a historian with rock drumming, incorporating many of his idols' styles into his own playing.  I love how his kits are set up, positioned low and flat and not without tons of cymbals to accent whatever song he's playing on.  His playing is actually restrained on KISS' studio albums that he's on, but if you listen to a track like "Watchin' You" on KISS' "Alive III" album, you can hear he's not really holding back and puts on a clinic.  Maybe my favorite runner up track would be "Sure Know Something" on KISS' "Unplugged" album, where he puts his own spin on the original version played by Anton Fig (in place of Peter Criss at the time) from KISS' "Dynasty" album, which I also really like.  But Singer's version seems appropriately moodier, which is often hard to come across with a drummer.  I'd peg Singer as a thinking man's drummer, as he's so aware of the song environment that he's playing in.

Neil Peart - Clearly there's no denying Peart's impact on the music world, not just with his drumming, but he also wrote much of Rush's lyrical content.  I wasn't a fan of early Rush, though, as it just didn't quite catch my ear.  I found it a bit excessive for my own taste.  But when they refined their sound in the early 80s, that's when I took interest in their releases.  There's really nothing he does that isn't great, even if a song is only so-so, he still leaves his undeniable stamp on it.  Peart might have played monster drum kits, but he utilized everything that he had around him, rather than just having it there for eye candy for other drummers.  Every song of his was a clinic.  Another thinking man's drummer.  I found it actually fun to listen to his stuff just to figure out how he did some of his licks, and once you learn them, it's gratifying to use it as a sort of education to incorporate it in your own style.  Not that I'm anything like he is, of course not, I'm just kind of a wannabe chump.  One of my favorite songs he's on is "Where's My Thing" from Rush's "Roll the Bones" record, for which I think they won a Grammy for Best Instrumental.  Any drummer listening to his chops on that has their brains light up all over the place with all the stuff he does in there.  It's kind of indulgent for all three guys, but it's an instrumental after all, so they can just fly freely.  I really like his playing on "Bravado" from "Roll the Bones" also, where he's somewhat subdued while still leaving his distinct mark on the beats.  Really, there's a ton of stuff that sticks out with Peart.  Heaven has some pretty incredible drummers these days.

Tommy Lee - Motley Crue's drummer is unquestionably irreplaceable, even though he was replaced for a short time (by another great, Randy Castillo), coming back to the band after a bit of internal turmoil, which happens with most long enduring groups.  My ears and eyes perked up when I saw the Crue's "Looks That Kill" video in MTV's infancy in the early 80s, and what I saw was the next KISS, with all the theatrics and costumes and kickass soundtrack to go with it.  Lee was the first real drummer to incorporate visual flash with his playing, creating a trail of pretenders in the wake of Crue's success.  Something rather gratifying to me was reading him say once that he'd heard KISS' "Creatures" album and loved Eric Carr's drumming so much, he wanted to cop that for their "Shout At the Devil" release.  It's hard to imagine "SATD" being quite as big as it was without Lee's contributions, arguably the best musician in that band.  With his stick twirling during playing, cymbal catching, and crazy booming bass drum sound (capitalized on with great effect and success on their "Dr. Feelgood" release), Lee brought the fun to playing drums in a big way.  It left a big mark on how I play.  Between him and Eric Carr, the life on a lot of drum skins and sticks of mine was considerably shortened.  I play really loud because of those two guys primarily.  I'd pick "Looks That Kill" as my favorite track with Lee's playing for those reasons.  After that I might pick "Live Wire" from their debut "Too Fast For Love", where he clearly leaves his name stamp all over it.  He's not afraid to use that cowbell, either.

Cozy Powell - I've only really recently come to appreciate how great Powell was on pretty much everything he played.  He played with some seriously punchy hooks, making memorable fills without going overboard.  The things he's played on that I really love were Whitesnake's "Slide It In" release, where "Slow and Easy" really nails down how to get an audience to clap along to the music.  He had a fairly big kit, not "supersized", but big enough though, with 26" double bass drum (!!!... mine are 22") and he used Remo Powerstroke drumheads I think right until his untimely death in '98.  I point that out because Powerstroke heads were predominant in the 70s and 80s, and not so much past that.  I used them for a bit, but opted for the thicker Remo Emperor heads, simply because they're a bit tougher and a little less ring.  But listening to Powell's drumming with Whitesnake, Cinderella and Rainbow, to name a few, made me rethink that a bit.  This guy played just about everything, from rock to jazz, and has a ton of credits to his long resume.  "Slow and Easy" is probably my favorite work of his, just because of its punchiness and how he carries that song.  There are too many things he's played on to just pick one, though, so I'll just leave it at that.  I'm still kind of 'discovering' his playing, but what I heard left no doubt to me how great he was.

Gina Schock - Say what you will about the Go Go's, arguably the best and most pioneering all-girl band that came out in the early 80s, but those ladies knew how to write and play songs.  I really like Kathy Valentine's bass playing in this band, coupled with Schock's drumming.  Her style makes me think of a kind of swing/rock fusion kind of sound, with lots of energy and really crisp sounding snare fills.  She utilizes her tom drums brilliantly, hearkening back to a lot of the doo-wop bubblegum bands of the 60s.  Maybe that's why they were pegged as "girl Beatles" early on, with their simplicity and go-getter vibes especially on those tracks on the first record of theirs.  I can't think of any version of that band without her, though they've never replaced anyone anyway.  I think the song I'd vote for as my favorite of theirs might be "How Much More" from their debut "Beauty and the Beat", where she plays pretty much like I described.  I think she made that band sound better than it really was, as least early on.  I'd give a runner up to "Turn To You" from "Talk Show", where the rest of the band catches up to her feisty-ness and latches on to her energetic grooves.  The whole band can play, but she's the best of them.

Liberty DeVitto - When Billy Joel broke big with his "The Stranger" album, it was in part because he acquired the services of Phil Ramone as producer, and part because he got to use his own band in the studio for the first time.  Joel's buddy DeVitto was in on this on drums, and man, does this guy kick some serious ass.  He puts the "ow!" in "Power", pulverizing his kit when he plays live without ever sacrificing the quality of the songs he's playing.  I love every record of Joel's he's ever played on, but I'm partial to the Ramone-produced era, maybe for nostalgic reasons.  The records that really stick out for me for DeVitto are "52nd Street" and "Songs In the Attic", the latter being a live album of tracks from releases prior to "The Stranger".  Boy, does he bring life to those songs.  Joel's one of the best songwriters of all time, in my opinion, and he couldn't have found anyone better to lay down the beats for his songs than DeVitto.  The guy's a powerhouse in every sense of the word, playing with the truest of passion and precision, knowing exactly what a song needs.  I honed my own chops on playing his songs a lot in my early years of drumming, although it was by myself, because I never really had any musician friends who wanted to play Billy Joel material.  Probably my favorite selection for a song might be "Captain Jack" on "SITA", a moody title that carries some serious weight live thanks to his merciless pounding in the sections of the song where it called for it.  You could hear Joel getting revved up in that song when DeVitto cranked up the energy factor - but there are several subtle moments in that tune, too, where he just locks into the feel of the story of the song.  The other song I'd pick is, without a doubt, "Rosalinda's Eyes".  You really hear his jazz influences here, as you do with the whole "52nd Street" album.  But in particular, I love how he plays out the end of the song.  As the years have passed, I feel more and more nostalgic whenever I hear it, taking me back to that late 70s feeling.  Only the best musicians can produce that kind of air.

David Robinson - I first heard of The Cars when I took a trip to Ontario to stay with my brother Peter when I was 13, and he had "Candy-O" on his turntable.  I heard him play it a few times and thought it was pretty catchy.  From there I discovered the other Cars albums as they came out.  One big thing that stood out to me, even as a youngster, is how splashy drummer Robinson's snare drum sounded, and even the toms had a penetrating, "boom" kind of sound.  On those early releases, you could actually hear that the toms were open (or one-sided, skins-wise), and I always appreciated the honesty of that kind of sound from drums in the 70s and 80s.  Robinson's style is very accurate, like a human metronome, punctuating the songs' music and giving real definition to the urgency of the changes when it needed it.  Every time I listen to The Cars I get the urge to play my own kit.  It's actually great material to learn drums on.  I've always believed Robinson is one of the most underrated drummers in all of rock history, actually.  You don't hear the rapid fills or tricked-out beats with odd time changes, but that's the whole point; the simplicity of his style adds appeal to the already catchy music.  One of my favorites is actually the song "Candy-O", with his great use of floor toms in the chorus and laying the train tracks for the boogie of the whole tune.  I can't not mention "Touch and Go" from their "Panorama" album, either.  That song's a tour-de-force for the whole band, with one of the best guitar solos ever from Elliot Easton, a superb walking bass line in the chorus from Ben Orr, never-failing keys from Greg Hawkes and of course Robinson's pinpoint accuracy dotting the changes throughout the song bringing the whole thing together.  He's just a joy to listen to, drum-wise, for me.

Larry Mullen Jr. - U2 is one of the biggest bands on earth, in large part because of this guy.  Mullen actually started the band, and Bono took over, though Mullen has no regrets about that, of course.  Those early U2 albums, the first three, you can hear the urgency and even anger sometimes in his playing, especially on the "War" album.  It's on those early releases that you really hear his gutteral approach to drums, when Steve Lillywhite was the prime producer and just set him loose.  On "War" in particular, it almost sounds like the drums are turned up extra loud in the mix - fitting for the album's title.  But make no mistake, his drumming and innovative non-use of hi hat strikes at times helped change the direction of the sound of much of U2's catalogue.  Just take a listen to "A Sort of Homecoming" from "The Unforgettable Fire" for example, where he opts to drive the beat with 16th notes on a floor tom he places to the left of his snare, accenting with a rack tom.  He did something similar on "The Joshua Tree"s "Where the Streets Have No Name", opting instead for a rack tom instead of a floor one.  It was on "Achtung Baby" and "Zooropa" where he got particularly adventurous, though, no doubt spurred on by his producers Lanois, Eno and Flood.  His sound is particularly crisp on those offerings.  On "All That You Can't Leave Behind" and "How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb", he lets up slightly on the former, with great effect, and unleashes once again on the latter, at times bordering on a punk/metal vibe - like on "Vertigo" and "All Because of You".  His biggest influence is The Ramones, after all.  Of the multitude of tracks to choose from, "Like a Song" from "War", a somewhat obscure song, is a standout for me - he kicks that anger into high gear literally, seemingly matching Bono's urgency in his vocals by translating the words into drums as best he could.  On the other end of that, on "So Cruel" from "Achtung", he plays effectively restrained, letting Bono's heartbroken lyric take center stage while supporting it with an uncharacteristic higher-end rhythm.  I can't not mention how great he sounds paired up with bassist Adam Clayton.

That's the bulk of what I consider to be influential drummers of mine throughout the years.  There are plenty of others I'm just not recalling, but this would wind up being some kind of boring old book if I were to continue.  And I've already taken days to write this particular blog post!  But had a lot of fun doing it, actually.  

There aren't a lot of modern day drummers on that list, simply because machines and triggers have more or less taken over drums on recordings, unfortunately.  Live drums are a different kind of subject, and they're a lot more fun to listen to than studio recordings mostly, in person.  But the way I see it, the art of drumming is slowly fading from the recording industry.  Even the stuff that's done well is so manipulated by production and computers and crap like that, that it's hard to find something that sounds honest anymore.  It's why the last few years I've opted to look backwards at music that I might have missed out on over the years.  And that's an endless library to go through, thankfully.

If you've found this interesting enough to read all the way to this point, thanks for doing so.  I truly appreciate you visiting my humble Ragnar Station.

Personal Blog: Walk the razor's edge

It is Monday, September 11, 2023, 4:09am according to my laptop.

My wife is sleeping beside me.  Earlier we watched "Interstellar" again on blu-ray with the captions on, and gained a whole new insight to the film yet again.  Then we popped in the extras disc and watched some of that, before it was ultimately time for her to get to sleep for work tomorrow.

The day started off very late for me, where we were up quite late last night because we just weren't tired.  Janice had the last four weeks off to recuperate from her knee surgery, in which her surgeon determined that she needed knee replacement.  That may happen as soon as before the end of the year.  She will then need six months to recuperate.  After that, knee replacement for her other knee may be on the horizon, which likely means permanent disability, like me.

But these past four weeks have been very nice, for the most part.  There have been absolutely no issues between us through this time, and indeed, pretty much ever since we got together 31 years ago.  Any issues that have arisen have always been due to outside meddling or troublemakers, really of which there have been few as well.  One of those occurred during last month.

August 2, 2022 was the last time I self-harmed.  I used to say that was the last time I endured an anxiety attack, but I can't quite claim that.  They don't always go hand in hand.  They did at work, though, especially while I was employed with Shoppers Drug Mart.  I did work for one of the stores for ten years for a great boss named Jamie, who is one of the most understanding, gregarious individuals I've ever been blessed to know, and especially to have for a boss.  I suffered numerous attacks at work there and asked for time to cope, and he was 100% understanding, telling me to take care of myself first and foremost. 

When Jamie left at the end of that ten years, though, I had a new guy to work under that really, really didn't work out.  In fact, beyond the pharmacy at that store, I was the last staff member left that was at the opening of that building when it was rebuilt.  I watched countless folks get forced out or leave before I finally did.  

On my daughter's birthday that year, I came home from work, exasperated and frustrated, to the point that the mental anguish was too much to process, and jumped and landed horizontally on the hard living room floor - breaking ribs in my back in the process.  I desperately texted my wife at work "help" several times, because I couldn't call to speak, as I'd lost my voice and breath.  It took a half hour to gain the ability to breathe properly again. She came home minutes later and helped me get upstairs to lie on the soft mattress.  

Following that, she spoke to our family physician, who advised her to get the ball rolling to proceed to get me on permanent disability.  About a year later, after several more anxiety attacks - but only a fraction of what I'd endured from work - the government concluded I indeed qualified.  I broke down in tears when I found out, because I just didn't feel like many believed me when I told anyone of my struggles with mental illness.  It carries a stigma, after all.

Today, I deal with an added stigma: being in my mid 50's and on permanent disability.  

As I progress through my thirteenth month straight of not self-harming, worthy of note because I do have to fight the urges to sometimes; though not often, I've learned through Janice to accept that I have not self-harmed, but I have dealt with anxiety attacks.  They produce a very weird chemistry in my head where I feel like I'm bottoming out, spiraling.  What pulls me out of it is cannabis with THC.  It's become somewhat of a life-saving miracle for me.  I've also discovered that also carries a stigma with it to those who don't accept the modern legality of it in the present time.  But that, I don't worry about.

The issue I dealt with last month was one where I felt quite unaccepted by someone associated with my wife's family.  I'd rather not get into the details - only that it's an ongoing issue for years that has mushroomed this summer.  The incident sent me into a tailspin mentally and spiritually that left me so confused and drained that my mind went to very dark places... places that made me contemplate the worst toward myself.  One weekend night at three in the morning I walked to the Gunningsville Bridge and stopped in the middle, looking down at the river below.  "It would only take a minute," I thought to myself.  For a half hour I stood there in the dead of the warm night breeze.  This was a couple of weeks after the 'incident'.  I eventually opted to walk home.

This wasn't the only time thoughts like that invaded my head in the last month.  It made August a challenge, because family was in town visiting, and gatherings were frequent.  I didn't attend many of them, because of this whole mess of anxiety I was dealing with, but I still went to some of them.  I feared much of my family might not understand my absence, but via communicating with Janice, they certainly did.  I also did not let anyone know of my bridge visit or ponderance until the writing of this blog you may be reading right now.  As those August days rolled on, so did doubts about myself.  The anxiety ball was rolling, running down hope as it trolled through my head.  

The four weeks Janice was off might well have been crucial in saving me.  We rarely spend time apart, after all.  During that four weeks, we actually weren't apart.  Every day I woke up, she was there.  When I went to sleep, she was there.  Every night she tells me before she drifts off, "remember, I'm right here beside you."  I have a lot of friends in passing, all of whom are special to me in various ways, but I have no frequent friends anymore.  

It's funny, so many of these friends, and family, upon hearing I qualified for disability, offered me literal congratulations, as if I'd achieved some goal.  I was a proud worker right up to my last day on April 22, 2020.  Maybe too proud sometimes.  Before working for Shoppers, I worked driving for BJ's Subs and Catering for 11 years, probably the most content period of my life.  Never let anyone tell you a retail job, in any capacity (in my case a receiver), is better than a driving job.  My heart goes out to retail workers.  It either hardens you like a shield, or you buckle under the pressure.  In my case, due to my mental health history, I buckled, and am today officially labeled "disabled".

Being put on disability was good, all said.  If I'd continued staying at the job I was at, I surely would have run into far more serious issues.  Before I'd ever worked for Shoppers, I was mentally compromised already, after all, but my driving job never pushed me to the depths that my retail one did.  Not even close.  But after working 12 years in retail (I was at two other SDM stores before landing at the last one), I couldn't get used to retail life, or the rotten treatment Loblaw doled out to their employees when they took over halfway through my run there via Shoppers.  I don't want to make myself sound like I thought I was the ideal employee.  There are a lot of things I'd do differently today - but I think that goes with a lot of folks.  Truth be told, no one was harder on me than myself.

But I continue to be hard on myself long after I've left the workplace.  My wife got her knee diagnosed by doctors who saw the problems and issued them to get fixed promptly, relatively speaking, compared to my own mental illness.  After all, an MRI or X-ray will show torn tissue and broken bones, which gets treated upon diagnosis.  Me... I haven't even been properly diagnosed.  I have no idea what I have, what to call what I deal with.  It resembles depression, anxiety, PTSD and trauma, but there is no official term.  Just guesses according to the history of my health.  My physician did what he could.  He gave me meds to calm the fires that often lit up my brain, but that's a band-aid solution.  It doesn't get to the heart of the matter like a psychologist or psychiatrist can.  I had both of those.... I ran out of money to pay for a psychologist, and my psychiatrist gave up on me.  So, I'm on my own.  I continue to take SSRIs and now cannabis oils to stave off The Monster. 

Being out of work has greatly curtailed my anxiety, but it didn't cure it.  Now I'm left waking up in the morning feeling like I have little to no purpose.  My cat Marbles walks on my head to wake me up to feed him - outside of that, anyone I know is working, including my wife.  I've lost interest in things I used to love doing.  I love playing drums, but I have nothing to motivate me to.  I always have artsy things flying around in my head (especially on cannabis... WOW.) but then ask myself, "what for?"  When people create things, they want to show others.  I have no one to do that for outside of my wife.  I find writing this very blog therapeutic, but I'll only post a link to it on social media rather than just stick it out there outright.  I think there are those who might construe these writings as me crying victim.  Maybe I am.  Janice is a victim of knee problems, and no one will hesitate to offer their understanding of that.  I see it her deal with it!  And it's terrible, and at times heartbreaking.  But my psychological issues.... I think there are a lot of folks who'll just think "suck it up and move on."  And this lack of understanding does nothing for me when I reach my lowest, like at the bridge.

The chances of me of jumping off that night were very slim.  I was really only contemplating.  Until a Rush song called 'The Pass' glided through my head.  No hero in your tragedy...no daring in your escape...no salutes to your surrender...nothing noble in your fate.  Christ!  What have you done?  The aftermath.  The damage I would leave in my wake.  That made me turn around and walk the razor's edge.  I can't turn my back and slam the door on my family.

And I live to fight another day.  The tattoo on my back, words from a song called "Dream In My Life" by King's X, is an ode to my wife and daughter.  I feel it's me speaking to Janice and Lexy.  

It's a struggle.  Everyone deals with them.  I know I'm not alone in that.  I'm not the only one to have had a hard life.  Sometimes people feel they have to remind me of that.  And I actually find it insulting and insensitive, but accept the notion they don't realize it.  Ignorance is not always bliss.  Sometimes it's just ignorance.

But I accept it for another day.  

Above ground.

Personal Blog: Carry That Weight

It's been a great summer - albeit kind of soggy in this neck of the woods here in New Brunswick, Canada.  But looking around at all the mayhem caused by weather in so many other parts of the world, including here in my own country, actually especially my own country, I can't validate any complaints I might have had.

Last year, on August 2, I suffered my last violent anxiety attack, where I turned a utility knife on myself and cut up my legs and arms.  No need to get into reasons why.  But it did prompt an adjustment in my medication, which has helped quite incredibly really, and I've been in perhaps the most serene place in my entire life since I can remember.

It hasn't come without some challenging times and days, of course, like everyone has.  I've learned to recognize triggers and how to stare them down; to remove myself from situations that may prompt an oncoming attack.  Everyone who suffers from chronic anxiety is unique in their symptoms and what brings them on.  I'm certainly not a 'textbook case' of an anxiety sufferer.  Mine originates mainly from physical trauma early in life.  Thus, medication proved to be crucial to getting me out of that hole that at times appeared bottomless.  But it takes more than just meds.

It takes a family, friends, spirituality, and education to shine light where it's needed the most.  It started out without any hint of a light at all whatsoever.  So much is known about physical trauma's connection to chronic anxiety now than was back in the day.  It's made me look back on my own past and taking a look at what I'm ashamed of, actions-wise, and look at it in a third-person kind of perspective.  Would I be so condemning of a person that has the same kind of past and circumstances, from an outsider's point of view?  Today, I certainly would not.

But time is the great teacher, isn't it?  Not only does it provide you with a chance to look back, but it gives you the option to not repeat.  It's true what they say, those who do not learn from history really are damned to repeat it.  That road had a lot of potholes and damage to it.  There's an alternate route that takes me to where I want to go.  Why take that same damaged road?  But I took the damaged road over and over again, in some instances.  It left me with many a flat tire, and catastrophic engine failure in some cases.  Life will make you learn one way or another.

In this past year, I've learned to just let a lot of things go.  Why the hell argue just for the sake of arguing?  If the conversation leads to hard feelings or hatred, disengage.  I'm still learning this, but I've come a long way.  Chances are you aren't going to change people's minds on anything, but you can help change them by simply setting an example.  "Do unto others", and so forth.

My nephew Shawn gave me a book called "The Book of Joy" that crucially made me re-adjust my outlook for the better.  I recommend it to anyone who feels like they've gotten a bum rap on life, or wonders "why me?" at any point in time.  Man... I was one of those "why me?" people for decades.  From time to time, I still am, but a whole lot less.  In reflection, patience is what I've always needed to get over such an outlook.  Patience and compassion.  Finding happiness in others' happiness.

Plus the blessings in my life are in great abundance.  Sure, I live on disability, a fixed income.  I'll never have the riches - the big job, the fancy car, a cottage of my own, the ability to travel much.  But like I said about letting go, it's more about what I have than what I don't, or won't.  I have a fantastic wife, whom I credit for my very existence today.  A wonderful daughter who made me stare down the menace that is anxiety/depression/PTSD, and fight it and fend it off (NOT 'win', because it's a lifelong battle).  I've got a few friends who've always been around.  We have a house that was basically a run-down shack when we moved in nearly 25 years ago, that has morphed into our own little palace, especially over the last year or so.  We have no debt, outside of our mortgage, which has a little over three years left.  We've got our kitty Marbles, who's steadfastly at my side providing love and support unconditionally every day.  I have a family full of forgiving and understanding siblings; and like every large family, we've had our ups and downs through the decades, but we always gravitate back together.  As we all get older, things tend to slide off our backs a little easier, knowing that petty crap is never worth it in the long run.  Going to church has helped a lot.  Mind you, I don't think I believe in quite the same version of God as a lot of others do.  To me, God is synonymous with love and forgiveness.  Anything antithetical to those things is contrary to the God I believe in.

I have my health, although at times it gets questionable, but nothing serious at all, outside of my mental health issues of course, which I've kept under control.  Although in recent months, I've been a bit paranoid.  Every seven or eight years, it seems, I've had to do battle with kidney stones.  The last time, in '15, I came a little too close to losing a kidney.  Had Janice not forced me to go to outpatients and demanded I be looked at a lot more closely than I had been (indeed, I got surgery that day), I'd be down one.  So now, my guard is up whenever I feel that familiar ache in my back.  I wound up with a couple of stones that showed up on an x-ray a few months ago that looked to be on the move.  For three months, the pain kind of increased.  Long story short, I pissed the little bugger out (ha... try saying a kidney stone is "little" to anyone who's had one) just tonight.  It wasn't pleasant, that's for sure, but it was a relief.  I was scheduled to go for a CT scan for it, but now that's not in the cards anymore.  But, while I was filling up the bird feeder we have in our yard today, which I need a ladder for and Janice to hold it while I do it, I wound up taking a ten foot drop to the ground when the ladder gave way to a weak branch.  I'm now the proud owner of some kind of rib injury, either cracked or an intercostal thing.  Having experienced both, I'd say the intercostal might be a bit more painful, but takes probably half the healing time that an actual fracture does.  I'm hoping that's what it is.  I do have Percocet because of my kidney stones, after all.  And THC.  But the yard looks good!  It's what I did all day yesterday.  I mowed Janice's mom's lawn and ours, which is a bit of a task when the mower isn't one of those propelled ones, and the lawn has a lot of hills.  And with my stubborn ass, I always have to do both lawns at once, even when I only set out to do one at a time.  Plus a ton of weed whacking.  Plus hedge and shrub trimming.  I wound up with a bit of a burn, making me look more Canadian than ever with my shades of red and white.  

Exercise has been a tremendous factor in keeping my physical AND mental health in check, too.  Janice has a Planet Fitness membership, which allows for a guest every time you go, and I would be that guest, so we go together all the time.  She's pretty determined to walk a total of 1,000 miles by the end of the year, and she's over half way there.  Considering her ridiculous roadblocks, not the least of which is a knee to be operated on August 9, she's become inspirational to people, especially me.  She would say I'm the inspirational one, probably.  I push her a bit when we go, but that lady's a powerhouse.  You can not keep her down or in one spot too long.  For the better part of this year, she's gotten around with a cane, but she still goes to the gym and sweats it out with the best of them.  On my end, lots of weights and cardio have had many benefits.  I don't lift all that heavy, really.  I don't consider myself particularly strong.  All I know is that it makes me feel good.  I've really taken on stretching as a prominent part of my workouts, where it takes up around 45 minutes each time.  It's helped my mobility in ways I couldn't have imagined before I started getting serious with it.  Again, I'm no pro or some kind of yogi when I'm stretching, but what I've been doing works pretty great with me.  I look forward to when Janice can do all this stretching with me.  For now, she does extra cardio while I do my stretching.  We usually go every other day now.

Although one glaring issue with me is my right knee.  I'd just gotten it x-rayed yesterday, and the doc said that it looks the same as it did three years ago.  It sure doesn't feel the same!  After multiple times attempting to run again, finally a few days ago when I almost wiped out on the treadmill (and a few other times just walking), I bit the bullet and decided to give it attention.  It's hard to actually 'see' my doctor, so he just sent me for the x-ray, said I had osteo in my knee, and that was that.  At the rate I'm going, I may need Janice's cane when she's done with it.  But I'm tired of chasing health care practitioners about it.  It appears no one wants to believe me.  It hearkens back to ten years ago when I started limping every day for three years before I actually got an MRI and then told me I had a tear, bone fragments, and evidence of a fracture in my tibia before they told me "hey, you need surgery".  I feel like I'm on that same friggin' road.  But, at least this time, I'm not working.  So there's the blessing in that!

Still, the frustration in that nearly got away from me yesterday when I got stonewalled by the doc again about the x-ray.  Janice pushed and pushed me to get it addressed by the doctor for at least three months, and I finally caved, only to have to go to the back of the line again.  Whatever.  It's summertime!  There's fun to be had, a house and yard to enjoy, time to be spent with my wife, great food to eat, and people to see, especially in August when family convenes in Caissie Cape.  Janice will have most of August off because of her surgery, so I will happily wait on her hand and foot if needed, pretty much like she's done with Lexy and me since forever ago.  I've been incredibly fortunate all my life, especially through the down times, in that I've had people looking out for my own best interests when it counted the most.  I can't give enough credit to Janice.  Every time I'm in trouble, like a superhero she seems to show up to save the day.  I would like to think I do the same for her and Lexy.  But I believe those heights are perhaps too lofty for me to ever reach.

I can't be the guy that says "hang in there, things will get better", because I know too many people that have to deal with way, way worse than I ever have had to... people that I pray for.  But it is pretty important to have understanding for the plight of others.  We're all dealing with something, right?  

We all have to carry that weight - so maybe we should see that others are, too, and help them carry theirs.  We will heal ourselves when we help others.  Not to sound preachy.

As always, thanks so much for taking the time out of your precious day to read my very humble blog entry.  You are appreciated!