Sequoia

      I spent a few days in Sequoia recording songs. I brought my laptop, guitars, mic stands, and mics with me and set up shop. I have a friend who owns a cabin up there. The cabin is in the middle of nowhere away from people and lights. It's real quiet, but for the birds. There were beautiful trees at every turn. They were barren from autumn, and their sparseness gave the place an eerie feeling.
      I'd wake up early in the morning and start in on the work. There was nobody around, so I didn't have to worry about making too much noise. I'd work all day and go to bed early. There wasn't a television or wi-fi, so I read 1Q84 by Murakami to entertain myself and passed out by nine-thirty. I'd wake up at six or so in the morning and start the routine all over again.
      I had planned to finish eight or nine songs while I was there, but I only finished the rough tracks to three. It always takes longer than expected, finding the right sound, and playing the song with out making any mistakes. I don't like to cut and paste tracks if I can avoid it. It took me half a day to figure out I was playing a song at the wrong tempo. I was having trouble playing the song in time, and couldn't figure out why. It was one beat per second too slow. That one beat made all the difference in the world. It's the natural rhythm of things. Don't butt heads with the natural rhythm of things. It makes life one beat per second harder than it needs to be. 

U-turns

      I yanked a U-turn from the curb and almost got T-boned. It might have been my fault. It was night and I didn't see any headlights behind me, probably cause I never turned my head to look, and yanked it. I was lucky not to get hit. A car jammed on his breaks and managed to stop in time. The driver laid on the horn pretty good. He was mad.
      When I got home I thought about what had happened. I needed to be more careful. I was sure the driver in the other car was telling the story to somebody and still mad about it. "And then this Armenian guy yanked a U-turn from the curb right in front of me!" 
      When you're driving in Glendale, Armenians get blamed for everything. 

Man The Invention

   
      I caught a cold. That's something. I'm getting ready to record a bunch of acoustic songs at a friend's ranch near Sequoia. It's gonna be just me and my guitars for a couple of days. I'm starting to think about fire wood and food. What kind of food should I take? 
      Oh yeah, I finished my album, Solar Road. It's on Bandcamp under The Glen Livers. I need to promote it better, but I'd rather work on my art. I got the book to edit, and songs to write, and a crapper to build. Life is good when the mind is active. My problem is, I'm scattered. There are so many interesting things to learn about. Old songs, and AI, and crypto-currency, and good bots and bad bots, and block chains. The world's economy is changing right before our eyes and it has little to do with man force, or everything to do with it. I'm not sure what's going to happen. Greed probably. A different kind of greed, but greed nevertheless. 

Flying Matresses

      I figured out why mattresses and seat cushions fly out of trucks on the freeway. It's because they know they're going to a home with a cat. Or worse yet, cats. And the thought of the impending torture is too much for them. So they panic and let the wind hit their sails and fly away.
      I'm not sure if they think it all the way through though. The chances of getting hit by a car on the freeway are pretty good. But it must be worth the risk. Death by a car, or a lifetime of claw scratches. That's a tough one. Either way I could understand their concern. 
      If they're lucky the cat will use the couch as a scratching post, but then the mattress or seat cushion will have to listen to the couch's cries for help and agony. And that's no way to live. So it makes sense to jump out of the truck while you have the chance. 
      It took me years to figure this out, but if anybody out there has a question or problem that needs solving let me know. Sooner or later I'll come up with the answer. 

Manson

On Charles Manson: he gave hippies a bad name. 

The Show Must Go On

      I have a show with The Glen Livers on Monday at the historic Dresden Room. It's an LA institution. I've been trying for weeks not to get sick. It seems everyone around me has been sick with a cough or a cold, and as the singer of the band I can't let that happen.
      My body was starting to feel achy yesterday, so I shut it down and came home early from a party to go to bed. I've been taking mega-doses of vitamin C and eating turmeric, ginger, and habenro chilies, and drinking lemon tea with honey and cayenne pepper. I took an ibu yesterday when I started to feel achy. I feel pretty good today, but I do have some phlegm in my throat. Any variance in the throat can make a huge difference in the tone and quality of my singing. 
      My gut says my voice isn't going to be at its best, but at least I don't have a sore throat or a cough. I'll have to fight through it somehow, and sing the best I can with what I got. 

Daylight, More Night

      I fell asleep early last night. Daylight savings hour had me confused. I'm pretty good at guessing the time in the morning by looking at the sunlight. I can figure it out with a plus or minus of ten minutes. But today I had no idea. It seems silly and a bit arrogant to manipulate time like that. It doesn't make any sense to me. 
      A coyote and a possum were at war while I was sleeping. I heard the coyote chasing the possum and the possum was squealing as he ran away. I'm pretty sure the possum climbed a tree and escaped. My head felt heavy like a bowling ball. I could barely move it I was sleeping so hard. I didn't bother to get up and look. I just lay stiff in bed. 
      The possum had been licking the grease off of my barbecue. He wasn't shy about it either. He'd make a bunch of noise while he greedily went at it. He came back two or three days in a row. I saw him doing it a few times and figured it was only a matter of time before a coyote caught wind of it. Sure enough, last night was the night and the chase was on. 
      Everything is peaceful now. Just hawks circling for squirrels, and the sound of leaf blowers in the distance. And of course sirens on Figueroa street for the human casualties in life.