So I just read this AP article about a 13 year old in Rockford who died of alcohol poisoning. This happened in the company of his 19 year old cousin. The kid was on a baseball team, and said team will now be wearing black armbands in tribute to the boy.
So, all this is tragic, but here's the question: We tell kids all the time not to do stuff like this, but it's okay for all of these other kids to pay tribute? I'm trying to figure out what's positive about that. Wear the armband so you remember the kid, or wear it so you'll be reminded all the time - don't do what he did?
Meanwhile, they have charged the cousin and his buddies with misdemeanor alcohol charges. So where are the parents of the kid who died? And why not charge the 19 year old - adult, by legal standards - with involuntary manslaughter?
Maybe I'm just seeing this all in a very cruel light. I don't know. Maybe it's just symptomatic of the complete loss of personal responsibility for one's actions. Nobody is held accountable anymore.
Sigh. Stupid, stupid, pointless death.

When does music stop being "ours" and become "theirs" relative to age? Is there a formula? Is it based on when our old posters start to fade, or worse, when we find them rolled up in a corner of the closet and finally reliquish them to the trash? Does it happen when you've "made it" in the world, and traded in the cast off furniture for a set that matches? Is it the moment when some skate-punk band with an average age of 19 covers some song that we played so much in our youth that the tape eventually gave out and snapped? Or is it simply just a loss of that desire to hear something new? And does that correlate to tendencies more sinister, such as turning Republican, or being too lazy to push the shopping cart back to the corral, or hearing yourself utter the words "those damn kids"? Than again, I do utter that phrase, but that's perhaps more a result of working in a school rather than having lost an ear for good new music. Maybe what drives me most insane is that radio stations are tailored for kids who were just born when I went to Lollapalooza I. Where's my station? Why do I have to do my own digging to find anything worth hearing? I have disposable income now, people; that makes me a target market, so how come nobody is marketing to me? I think from now on I'll refer to a certain behemoth as Clearasil Channel; makes more sense that way. I'm not bitter, I'm just disappointed. Meanwhile, I'll keep my discoveries amongst my friends, and be able to go to shows in nice, small venues...at least until the tinnitus kicks in and I can no longer remember where I left my cane.

Every once in a while I glance wistfully at the Yamaha keyboard placed a few feet away from where I now sit. When you love music, it is not uncommon to feel as though you ought to be able to play as well. If I had more expendable income, I'd have guitars and amps and a drum set and possibly a saxophone and an accordion just sitting around, not being played, just as the keyboard with two ancient beginning piano texts on the music stand sits there, not being played. The texts are: The John Brimhall Piano Method (1968) and John Thompson's Modern Course for the Piano (1936). My aunt, who taught piano for a number of years, probably had high hopes when I requested the use of some lesson books over a year ago, and what progress has been made? Very little. I'm hopeful, at this point, that I'll learn to play some simple songs by the time I retire.

Soon I'll resurrect this. But not right this moment.

Didn't get the plum job I applied for. This just isn't the moment to escape, I suppose. Or maybe it's satisfaction on delay. Is it worse to love what you do while working for idiots, or hate what you do and working for same?

So at work, we argue about the war. One woman, whose brother was in Desert Storm and who now suffers from the various respiratory and neural ailments that many of our soldiers returned home with, totally supports it, and bristles at any talk about protests. And I just cannot understand it; don't we want to prevent another generation of our armed forces from the chance of a lifetime in pain? I think the war itself is misguided; I would support it if the information coming from our government wasn't so suspect. More people would support this if they were properly informed and the information at hand felt true and demanded action. You can't go into a battle simply on rhetoric; that's schoolyard stuff. And then, how much of our real outrage is based on things that happened prior to the previous engagement with Iraq? Why didn't we finish the job then? So now sonny-boy goes to clean up the mess his father left behind, even while the nation limps along with so many issues to be dealt with on our home soil. So now we're in it, and I hope it's quick, and as few innocents as possible get caught in the crossfire. But even more, perhaps it is time we shift the focus of our protests; use them to remind the president of the issues here, of staggering jobless rates, and deficits, and underfunded schools, and lack of health care for people who need it, and the daily assault on our environment that makes any weapons Saddam has look meek in comparison. Go fight your splendid little war, shrub, but don't forget that nobody elected you for your vast knowledge of foreign policy and awareness of how the world works.

The prophet Isaiah son of Amoz went to him and said, "This is what the LORD says: Put your house in order, because you are going to die; you will not recover." Your house is not in order, Mr. Bush. Your land is turning to dust, your children are starved for learning, your basic freedoms are being turned into a historical footnote. You who claim to be born again are a blasphemer and a traitor to the spirit of your religion. You are the diametrical opposite of Moses; you will not part the waters before leading your people into the sea, instead you will lead us all into a briney death. Your self-righteousness blinds you; truth stands no chance against your clouded vision. Close your eyes and hear the anguish of the people in this country, whose greatest desire is to live in a free land, a land of potential and resources that allow it to be great; you would quash these things in pursuit of an agenda that is every moment depriving you of your soul. Put your house in order, sir, while it still stands; mend what you have broken, while you still can.

Just trying to shake off the tyranny of a so-called holiday. What can be positive about a day of celebration that depends so much on exclusion? Named after a Saint no less? Christmas has been homegenized to the point that almost anyone can take part. St. Patrick's day is probably lousy for recovering alcoholics, I'd guess. Valentine's day taunts the single folk, most of whom cannot understand why nobody wants to be with them in the first place. I try to be indifferent, but apparently...that's not working, is it?