Maybe it's like unicorns...

I would like to believe that as we age we become stronger, more experienced and better able to articulate what we want or need, that we're better equipped to know when we need to take and when we can give.  It's a nice fiction.  In many ways we give in or give up, setting aside just those things we want or need in the name of expediency or simplicity.  Sometimes it's not worth the energy or effort or repeating the same old routine.  After all, the devil you know....

So I often wonder- if you pretend or imagine something long enough, does it become true?  Obviously you can't imagine a physical object and have it appear or disappear.  But what about things that are only real within your head.  Can you force yourself to be different just by pretending? If you pretend to be happy do you actually become happy?  If you pretend you don't want something do you really stop wanting it?  It seems like a fool's errand and yet there's a lot to be said for the placebo effect.

Pretending can't make things exist anymore than believing in unicorns makes them flesh-and-blood animals.  (That's an odd saying...leaves out important things like bones.)  But maybe it works for something that isn't "real" in the sense that it is transient and intrinsic, something no one else can touch or see like happiness, sadness, erotic desire, or pride.  Maybe.  But at what point does pretending turn to giving up?  Maybe that's the secret...the point where you give up is the same as the point where it no longer matters whether you're pretending or it's real.  Too bad I have a real hard time quitting or letting go.

A stereotypical argument

In my teens and twenties I watched a lot of stand up comedy.  In particular comedic approaches to sex fascinated me.  It wasn't the physicality or the teenage titters but the way all comedians, men and women, discussed the interaction between men and women about the topic.  There were common themes and observations which, at that point, I didn't have the experience to understand.

Male comedians found humor in sexual quantity, lack of interest from their partner, differences between dating and married sex lives, and of course the...cruder...aspects of the physical act.  Female comedians found the humor in their partners' sexual appetite, the ways in which they showed interest, their partner's lack of ability to make them orgasm, or their partner's "oral fixation."  The topics were consistent enough for me to think there was something to it, not just a silly story for the sake of laughs.

After many more years and hundreds of conversations amongst friends, family, and colleagues I think I finally have an inkling of the source of these differences.  Obviously I can only speak from my own experience and my own interpretation of what others bring to the table.  And I only approach this from the viewpoint of being with someone for a long time, not from the "we just started dating" perspective where things are simply different and rarely represent anything close to reality.  Also, let's just ignore the "bros," those guys that can't think about anything beyond their dick, don't know how to show respect to anyone much less a woman, and don't actually represent the majority of men.

Men view sex as both a means and an end within itself.  It's a catharsis, a release of pent up energy or frustration. In many ways it's a reset button.  It's a connection and a visceral experience.  When it's done you feel closer, protective, like a bond has been renewed.  Sure, there are times when the emotional or psychological aspect is less prevalent, but even then the act helps to retain that invisible connection to someone else.  It's also just plain fun.  Why not skip doing laundry, mowing the lawn, or some work report that no one will read anyway?

In contrast, women often seem to view sex as a chore, another item that "needs done" but isn't necessarily a means or end in itself.  Sex doesn't play the same role or get the same priority.  It becomes something to maybe do when everything else is done, not something to do for the sake of itself.  Example- men have a bad day and sex makes it better, men don't feel well and sex makes it better, or men have a stressful day and sex makes it better.  It doesn't seem to work that way for women.  It's not that they don't enjoy the act (a ridiculous implication that still lives on because people are dumb) and sex serves many of the same functions (energy release, emotional connection, etc).  And yet there is still a vast, wordless gulf between the sexes that no one has been able to enunciate.

In many ways these differences are not surprising.  Aside from the too-often-abhorrently misapplied consideration of biological, physiological, and psychological differences inherent in the sexes, women carry a significant burden of society and tradition- children,  home care, and for the past 50 years the added stress of needing to work to support the family.  At the same time, it is very strange.  Both men and women work hard, experience stress and frustration, and need a release for that energy.  Both sexes need to remain emotionally and physically connected to maintain a relationship.

Most couples have some version of an argument revolving around the phrase "we can do it or enjoy it more when (insert any of a thousand things here) happens." But as far as I can tell, they spend their lives saying this and never actually get to the part about doing or enjoying.  Instead, they end up chasing the dragon.  That's life- there's always something else that needs done, something else that needs attention, or something else to stress us out.  To wait until some ideal time seems to be the common compromise, yet I don't see it making very many couples happy.


Ultimately, I don't know if there is or can be a solution.  We all want and expect different things.  Plus, such a personal act as the giving of yourself comes with its own attendant baggage (body issues, fears, and all the myriad things that prevent you from just enjoying the act for the sake of enjoyment).  It's like a tornado on top of a volcano during an earthquake- you're fucked (haha...yeah) no matter what you do.

After all these centuries the biggest thing that seems to change is that women (at least in many groups) have much more power and choice over their own sex lives.  But the same old stereotypes play out.  There are biological, sociological, psychological, and a whole myriad of other -ogical reasons why sex remains a source of tension amongst people. No couple is immune.  And that's what makes it such a fascinating and profoundly frustrating problem.

If you act like an asshole, you deserve bad things to happen to you

I wanted to post this on Facebook, but people can't handle it.  Someone always has to chime in with something unrelated or defend people acting like asshats.  I'm not looking for some pithy rejoinder about how I should calm down.  I'm well aware that the universe is not fair and that this is something out of my control.  I just want to blow off steam and and then I can calm down.  Normally, I guess people do this with some type of intense physical activity, but since I'm a fat fuck and because I like words, I'm gonna do it this way.

This is about to get mean, so if you're easily offended, you should just stop now.  Seriously.  This is gonna happen.  I don't typically advocate violence or suicide, but I'm definitely not opposed to weeding out the dregs of society, particularly if they would be so kind as to take care of it themselves.  Also, there is significant profanity, including a word I rarely use (but the British have it right...it's a beautiful word).

You've been warned.

To the two people that pulled out in front of me and came within inches of getting t-boned while my kid was in the car- I hope you die.  Fucking die.  Seriously.  Fuck you, fuck your parents for not raising you better, and fuck society for not kicking your ass so you know that your behavior is unacceptable.  Your mom should have swallowed.  Make this world a better place and leave it.  Your genes aren't worth passing on.  When you make a mistake, YOU apologize.  You don't blame other people and you don't flip them off.  I hope you hit a pole and end up paralyzed so that you have nothing to do but sit around with your pathetic waste of a self and think about what miserable bastards you are and how you've done nothing but be a drain on the people around you.  You are a burden to everyone else and we're better off without you.  If there is a God, I hope he kicks you in the ass so hard you taste clouds for eternity while you're burning in hell for being a miserable excuse of a person.  Kiss my ass, fuck you, and if I ever come across you again, I hope I see someone punch you in the dick and/or vagina just to prevent you from ever having children that you can teach to be fucktards like yourselves.

If you got this far and you happen to know who these people were, please forward this to them with my blessing.  People that act like garbage to other people deserve to be treated like it and we usually burn or bury garbage, so let's go ahead and get on that.

People are inane

I can safely say that I understand people even less than I did when I was younger. I've grown much older but only moderately wiser - wise enough to know that my wisdom is limited and never a good thing to say out loud. But none of that has helped me understand why people do the things they do. It's not the laziness, nonchalance, or even abject refusal to work for something that doesn't have immediate, tangible benefits. I can almost understand those non-motivations. They're human. We all want the easy way and if it's offered, it's a rare person that won't succumb. No, what I don't understand is the refusal to act on knowledge. Let me demonstrate.

Often students will ask me what I think - about their work, about their classes, or in rare cases about their life. I consider my job, as an instructor and a human, to give an honest assessment. People need to know their strengths, weaknesses, successes, and failures. And having gone through many of these same experiences, I like to think that I can provide some insight. And then, without even batting an eye, these same people will completely ignore what they heard (if they heard anything at all). They won't address their weaknesses, they won't play to their strengths, and they won't do anything differently. They just keep on going even after getting the answer. It's almost a slap in the face.

Or consider this gem - have you ever had someone ask you what you wanted or needed? Not in an offhand way, but genuinely interested in a real answer, not a backhanded remark or sarcastic quip. That's a dangerous question when posed in seriousness. The answer exposes you, putting you in a position where you have to give a piece of yourself. In some ways you're giving someone power over you by answering. If you're comfortable enough to answer it seriously, you want them to take the answer seriously and use it, preferably for good. But then they take that information and sit on it like they're hatching an egg. It's like they cared enough to ask and listen but didn't care enough to actually do anything about it. Obviously you can't give everyone everything all the time. But why ask such a personal question if only to ignore it? It's almost a slap in the face.

There are countless other things, some bigger social issues or smaller personal obstacles, but the end result is the same - refusal to use knowledge, even if it makes life better for you or someone else. This is something I see all the time but can't fathom. We're all guilty of it at some point, yet it seems like the majority of people are prone to it. Sometimes it seems like people ask these questions out of morbid curiosity with the express intent of not doing anything useful with the information. At some point it becomes so frustrating that you don't even want to answer those types of questions because no amount of honesty or conscientious answers is going to change the outcome.

 Maybe it's just another predilection of humanity that has no rhyme or reason. Or maybe I'm expecting too much. Either way, it just seems inane to me to ask if you're not going to use the answer. Just keep it in mind the next time you ask a question like that. If it's a question that requires someone to share a piece of themselves or if it's a question that is hard to ask and you may not want to hear the answer, think twice about asking if you're not going to actually use the answer.

Last Goodbye

Wow...almost a year since I posted anything. Time flies when you have shit to do. Or to not do since continuing my posts has fallen by the side. Technically it's no longer V-Day, but I'll post this anyway.

In some ways I consider this my opus. In technical terms, musically and lyrically, it's not the best I ever did, but somehow this is the one that sticks the most and definitely means the most to me. It's one I lived. It's also the one that has my favorite line that I ever wrote. I'll leave it to others to figure out which one it is.

Yeah, it's not a lovey-dovey V-Day song, but it's a love song anyway. And it is, hands down, the most painful thing I ever put on paper. Yes, I wrote this by hand back in the dark ages before phones recorded everything. It's hard to describe, so I'll just let it speak for itself.


Last Goodbye

We’re standing in the passing shine
of headlights heading farther on
and home is just a block or two away

The silence that surrounds our steps
is perfectness in duplicate
since neither of us knows what to say

On your porch at 2 AM
with moonlight glinting off your hair
preparing all the words you think
will make this last goodbye complete

I’m holding you against myself
defenseless but not innocent,
and every time the screen door slams
the walls go up between us again.

Before you say your last goodbye,
convinced that you are justified,
there’s just one thing that I want you to know.

Every time I let you go
the beating of my heart…slows…down.

I've got time
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around
I know it hurts, like nothing else,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain

We have grown accustomed to
contrition and apologies
but never knowing what we’re sorry for

The argument is getting stale
sitting there up on the shelf
right next to where my picture used to be

She said “We never did enough,
the time apart was just too tough,
and I’m not cut out for this kind of life.
I cannot be satisfied with second best,
and though I’ve tried, I realize
there must be more than this.”

Sleeping through these bitter days
just to keep your ghost at bay
and praying for release from all this pain

Every time I turn my head,
I see you from the corner of my eye.
This beautiful mirage
that shimmers in my mind.

Now we sit alone at night,
talking around how we really feel,
determined to prove what we had
was too damn good to be real.

Before I say my last goodbye,
and go pretend I’m doing fine,
there’s just one thing I wanted you to know.

Every time I let you go,
the beating of my heart…slows…down.

I've got time.
I've got time.
To sit around and think about
what went wrong this time around.
It still hurts, more than it should,
and the hurt will fade, but the memories remain.

I've got time.
I've got time.
To stare into these photographs,
and ask myself why nothing lasts,
why everything that’s beautiful has
passed…me…by

Her Name

One of the more amusing things I see in people is their, often inexplicable, ability to do exactly the opposite of what any observer thinks they would do. This is never more clear and more confusing to watch than when it comes to matters of the heart.

I think most people have been there. That situation where you go all in- you learn everything you possibly can about someone, put in the time and effort and love that it takes to know them at a level that goes beyond physical or emotional attraction- only to see them turn away and run to someone else that won't take the time or put in the love and dedication to know them. You watch them run to someone you know will never love them or give them the support they need.

This is a rather...logical...take on an emotional issue. And emotion trumps logic any day. We don't choose who we love. And there's no accounting for taste. But it's brutally depressing to be on the receiving end. To be the person that puts in the dedication to knowing someone and being there for them and picking them up every time they stumble...only to be left for someone that doesn't love them and takes them for granted.

This song is for all of those people that have had to live through the trauma. It's about knowing a girl down to her soul and having to watch her be with someone that can barely remember her name. It's about knowing that she still cares but, for whatever reason, just runs keeps running. At the heart of it all it's about loving her enough that you can endure watching her be with someone that will never love her the way she deserves.

This is my second favorite thing I ever wrote. This one was a lot of blood and tears. It was hard. Not hard to write lyrically- that actually came pretty readily. It was more because this was an emotionally devastating ride. When things hit so close to home there are times when you want to quit because it feels like the next line or next thought will push you over the edge. But that's part of why I write...the catharsis. When it's done and you look back and you've created something that you like so much and means so much to you...it takes some of the edge off the pain. It's like a narcotic- it doesn't take the pain away but it dulls that sharp edge and lets you function enough to keep going. Anyway, I like this one a lot and I hope it means something to you too.



Her Name
(Key of C)

Pink carnations are her favorite flower
Orange blossom is her favorite smell
The way she curls her right hand in
is her poker tell

Horses are her favorite past-time
She loves dancing in the rain
She always has a beautiful smile
even when she's in pain

I know you think she's looking at you
but the light, it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the places she goes,
I knew them long before you came.
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name

She's fragile like a winter snowflake
that melts when it touches your skin
She's stronger than she'll ever admit
but she'll break before she'll ever bend

She loves driving for the sake of it
The movement calms her down
She loves to argue just to prove a point
and "It's Christmas Again, Charlie Brown"

I know you think she likes to look at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she cares for you
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know that she's thinking of me
in some dark corner of her brain
I know all the secrets she hides,
you don't even know her name

Being like her mom is her biggest fear
Being with me is next
She always had a way with words
and she could always read the subtext
I know that she's thinking of me
when she takes off her dress
and when she's done she stares at the dark
and lights her cigarette
She sees my reflection in the twisting smoke,
a mirror of her feelings,
as I evaporate from her breath
and into the ceiling.

The drama of girls makes her crazy
she makes friends with all the boys
Her smile captures hearts like an orphan
Her anger drives her to destroy

She doesn't give her heart up easily
but when she does she goes all in
She's easy to break and hard to remake
Making her cry is a sin

I know you think she's looking at you
but the light it never touches her eyes
I know you think she loves you too
but you can feel the distance in her smile
I know all the pain that she hides,
I knew her long before you came.
I know all the faces she has,
you barely even know her name

I know all the places to touch
that get the blood pounding in her veins
I know all the buttons to push
to turn her into pleasure from pain
I know all the secrets she hides
I knew them long before you came
I know where she got all her scars
Boy, you don't even know her name

A Precious Thing

A new month is here and a new song seems fitting.

When you tell people you write or enjoy writing they always want to know what you write. I assume they want to hear murder mysteries or Westerns or something of that nature. So when people ask me what type of songs I write I tell them I write love songs. They usually come from a dark place and are born out of my own insecurity and pain but, at the heart of it, they're about love, fractured as it may be.

Writing about something happy is hard for me because that's not where my inspiration comes from. But there are those rare things in life that I find important enough to tackle artistically even if they are out of my comfort zone.

My daughter will be four months old in 10 days. I wrote this for her.


A Precious Thing

I was there for your first breath
Picked you up when you bumped your head
I was there when you fell asleep and when you woke

I hope you learn that love is kind
I hope you learn that justice is blind
I hope the world doesn't teach you fear or teach you hate

I hope you run with open arms
I hope you dance even when it storms
I hope you face the things everyone else hides from

It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A tiny girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing

I was there for your first tear
kept you warm and soothed your fear
I was there when you cried all night and when you smiled

I hope you learn how to laugh
I hope you learn that pain will pass
I hope you learn to forgive because time goes too fast.

I hope you learn to take a chance
I hope you find a true romance
I hope you offer your heart but never lose yourself

It's a precious thing
A new chance, a new beginning
An empty page, a place to write your story
It's a precious thing
A new life, a new beginning
A perfect girl, who's too good for this world
It's a precious thing

Carry On

First post of the new year. So happy new year to everyone. Maybe this year will be better than the last. Adam Duritz for the win!

Anyway, here's my first song of the year. Fittingly, it's actually the very first song I ever wrote. Not my best work or even my favorite but it does have a certain nostalgia for me, particularly the middle two verses.


Carry On

Roll on down back to your home.
Maybe you’ll find out why you feel so alone.
It’s hard on me to see you down like this,
but maybe it’s better this way and the hurt will pass

Take a stand. Find something you believe in.
Make a friend before you wind up hating everyone
And make amends with the one you love before they’re off and gone
Where will you find the strength you need

To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on

I know you tried so hard to put it all aside
but you can’t forget the way you felt that night.
And when we said goodbye in the cold California dawn,
how was I to know we’d be so unresolved.

Stop my breath before I speak your name
and burn my lips with this unrequited flame.
I promise I’ll take the blame for making us so weak and overgrown.
Where will I find the strength I need

To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on

Speak your mind before your brain explodes.
Lay it down before it gets too heavy for you to hold
and it drags you down. Your heart is tied to your sleeve just like a stone.
Now where will you find the love you need

To carry on
To carry on
To carry on
To carry on

Hurt Me

Well, I'd say it's been an eventful time since I posted anything. Had a kid, changed jobs, and now I'm trying to finish up the last of my scientific work so that I can make a clean break. Busy as a bee. Although bees are busy dying from CCD (that's colony collapse disorder for those that don't keep up with apiarists), so maybe I would rather be busy like a woodchuck or a squirrel or a nymphomaniac.

The selection today comes from something I wrote over the course of several years. A lot of songs take only days, at least to get lyrics and a musical backbone. Others you start and then get distracted. I find that these are the hardest to finish because after so much time has passed you find yourself in a different place with a different mind set and a different take on things. Of course, some themes are so universal (or people do shit to you for so long) that you don't really forget them. In these cases, coming back can lend new insight or just let you get those few lines that were missing.

Neil Young, during an interview, said that he only wrote one song at a time because "songs are jealous." I don't think it's jealousy so much as selfishness. I tend to work on several at once, often with them feeding back and improving each other. But there are those occasional things that demand full attention or they refuse to come at all. This was one of the latter.

This is a song about letting people hurt you because you'd rather hurt than see them hurt (how many times can you use hurt in a sentence?). It's a sacrifice we all make at some point, but a lot of people (read: me) let it go too far and end up suffering for things that are completely out of their control. We also let it go on far too long, even when it's obvious that the sacrifice isn't enough to make someone else happy and never will be. So for all you people out there that ever let yourself hurt for someone else, this is for you.

Hurt Me
(Key of Gm)

Verse:
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Fm Gm Fm Bb Gm
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm

Chorus:
C Dm(I) (x4)

Breakdown:
Bb C(III) Dm(V) C(III)/Dm(V)/C(III)/Dm(V) (stacatto) (x2)
Bb C(III)
Dm(V) C(III) Dm(I)
A5 Gm

I don't understand how you grew to be so mean
So unsympathetic and stepping on my dreams
When it's silence I need most that's when you want to scream
I'd do anything to ease your suffering

I know you're angry that life turned out this way
The suicide line's busy. You've been on hold for days.
And you won't walk away because you're so afraid to change
I'll be there when your smile turns to rage

So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
If it makes you feel better

I don't understand how you grew to be so cold
So unlike the girl I knew when she was young
My tongue licking your wounds didn't help to ease the pain
I'll still be here when your sunshine turns to rain

I know that you know that it's wrong
I know that you can't put it down
The power fuels your hunger
And the hunger feeds your pain
I'm still here if you need someone to blame

So hurt me
Hurt me
Hurt me
if it makes you feel better

Coalesce

I've always been a fan of the concept album. I appreciate the thought, talent, and work that goes into creating a musical ensemble that creates a larger picture or message with its individual pieces. I also like that each part must be understood on its own terms before being pieced into the larger story.

Concept albums are like ogres. They have layers.

Many moons ago, I tried my hand at a concept album. It was an abject failure in the sense that I only wrote four things and then lost focus. There was one thing that came out of it that I really liked. It's a song about loneliness and the things people do when they feel lonely. It's pretty old. I started it in high school and finished it a few years later. For some reason I thought of it today while I was driving home, so I had to find it and post it.


Coalesce

She leaves the tv on
just to feel like somebody cares.
Even the empty words
are better than the empty air.

"My patience may be wearing thin"
she says to her reflection.
"I just need a break from this
monotonous seduction.
In between the spaces where
we used to talk and keep our thoughts
There only lives the aftermath
of angry words we can’t take back."

As this feeling coalesces
she slips on unconsciousness
just to make a thicker skin.
Her own is wearing pretty thin.
She twists the strings of levity into
something only she can see.
A sacrificial offering
to the gods of Mirth and Mockery.

"It’s the crumbling façade"
she says.
"I’m the last horse on the carousel
and the circus wasn’t popular,
once they released the animals."

As this feeling coalesces into something
just a little bit untamed,
she slams on the brakes and says
"I never meant to feel this way."