One Fine Dream, etc.

Bob Ray Starker and I needed to save the world (somehow) but first we just had to jam. I’d flown to Ohio to snatch him up for our noble mission from the gods—luckily I’d remembered to bring my horn. Yep, in this little nocturnal flick, I played tenor sax and played the hell outta it too.

Bob and I were on stage and on fire—trading riffs, laying down the hot licks and just generally showing how it’s done. We, simply said, killed.

What was our planet saving, heroic adventure? //shrugs// I left the dream on an up note—Bob and I were still onstage, wailing our hearts out.

Damn, that was one fine dream.
~~~
Yesterday, at the good Doc Plotkin’s office, I got the all clear to start my protonization. That and he scheduled my next raft of MRIs. Luckily, those will, again, be “open” (YEA!) and won’t happen until late August—a few months post proton-ing.

When did battling neurofibromatosis type 2 become my full time gig? A few years ago, you say? I only mention it but Ten and I’ve been a going concern, a shacked up entity for the past few years too.

We’re fast approaching the third anniversary Of Ten and Donna’s Excellent Adventure. I think we’re about due (overdue) for a road trip. Maybe once protonization is done, we’ll rent an RV and tour around New England.

I’d LOVE to do the Maine Pottery Tour but that’s happening smack dab in the middle of my radiation marathon. I don’t actually have the schedule for that yet but those dates (end of May/early June) may very well coincide with my peak fatigue time. We'll just have to see how things flow and shit.

Even if we can't make the pottery tour, there’s always Acadia National Park, Boothbay and Bar Harbors, the White Mountains in New Hampshire, the Green ones in Vermont, Quechee Gorge, Flume Gorge and Franconia Notch.

No doubt, along the way, we’ll find some human made art to look at too.

Too bad transporter devices aren’t a thing yet. If they were we could beam over to Iceland to wander around Aldeyjarfoss so’s we could gawk and marvel at the waterfall and basalt columns (natural pillars made of hardened lava, caused by the contraction of volcanic rock as it cools).

In the meantime, I live in Valhalla. There aren't any dramatic waterfalls or basalt columns, no moutains or gorges BUT that bay, with the not so distant islands, sure is nice.

Take the Money

Selfie by the awesome axeman himself, Mister Bob Ray

A post about those stimulus checks from my fab friend Bob Ray. By the by, mine was direct deposited into my credit union checking account last night. I did NOT have to see that preening, horror show peacock's piss-scribbled mark. Yea.
~~~
I’m seeing posts from some people who are feeling conflicted about about accepting a check from Donald Trump. Not surprisingly, I have some thoughts about this.

It’s your money. The government runs on your money. If they decide to give some of it back to you, take it. You already earned it. Take it. If you’re lucky enough to still be working, and if you really don’t think you need it, take it anyway. Take it and donate it to something or someone you believe in. Take it. Take it and use it to make someone’s life easier during these horrible hard times.

I used to be a limo driver. Most of the people I drove were despicable. Awful people. Rude, loud, selfish, terrible people. I could tell you stories. But I sat in the drivers seat, drove them around, held the door for them, woke their drunk asses up in their driveways to tell them they were home, and I straight hated every minute of it. But at the end of the night, they tipped me. It was the fastest way to get cash out of their rotten greedy pockets and into mine. And I took it.

If it really bothers you that Donnie insisted on putting his signature on the check, calm down. This was his only chance to sign a check that won’t bounce.

It’s all he’s got.
~~~
Also too, read this – it's a collection of seven debunked stimulus myths plus explanations from CNBC.

Decades

From Chapter Eighty-one: A narrow escape & a discouraging word...

My good friend Bob Ray, author and artist of the Cap'n Haphazard comics and axeman extraordinaire, brought up something that’d slipped past me in my focus on 2019's end. This was also the finito of a decade – an action packed one for both of us.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, it was one hell of a decade. I ain’t gonna lie, it was a hard one. A mean one. I won’t miss most of it.

I lost too many people. Too many friends. Martita, Marie, Cliff, Tom Harker, Grace Kitty, Tiger, Al, Grandma Lowe, John, Shep, Thomas Spurgeon... and those are just the ones I knew best. Too many. I miss them all every day.

I watched the world go from “hey, we’re in a lotta trouble, but maybe we can start fixing it” to “we all hate each other and it’s all on fire, so what’s the point?” I don’t really know where we’re headed from here, but I try to remain hopeful, because I’m stupid like that.

There were good things, too. I started drawing comics again. I played a lot of music. I made a lot of new friends. I remarried my wife Melissa on our 25th anniversary. I had a heart attack, which was no damn fun, but it was ultimately a good thing, because it made me lose 10 pounds and start thinking about the value of every day.

So, I’m 10 years older. I lost some folks and I made new friends. My body gave me a wake up call that I’m still figuring out how to heed. I have a realistic view of the past, utter disappointment with the present, and irrational hope for the future

Happy New Year, everybody. 2019 can kiss my ass. To hell with the Teens. Bring on the Twenties.

Be good to each other, I love you all. ❤️
~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m also light more than a few loved ones due to life flames being extinguished OR phenomenally cold, indefensible actions.

Losing The Amazing Bob was a devastating nuclear blast to my soul that felt unendurable. With the calm, loving and constant support of friends, family (Jen, Oni, Celeste and Daddy!) as well as the wise words of those who’ve walked this path through wretched misery before me (Michal, Maria and Ten) – I made it.

There’s been my personal health bullshit – eye, bean and back.

The Cyclops – Odilon Redon

It occurred to me this morning, as Ten helped me put the PROSE lens in, that, without his devoted assistance each and every day, y’all may very well be calling me Cyclops Donna now.

Speaking of Ten, I discovered that my life has a second act – with TAB’s death I’d NOT entered my denouement after all. There is still joy to be had – multiple joys in point of fact!

And while my hand/eye coordination has been banjaxed by that cretinous interloping tête tumor, I continue to paint – exploring abstraction.

We have art in order not to die of the truth.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Like Bob Ray I hold some hope for our disgustingly abused country. The asswipian Republi/Fascist fuckers and their insane treasonweaseling leader are on the wrong side of humanity, history and the planet. We’ll win as long as we hang tough and together like the Lakota, Dakota and Cheyenne did at the Battle of Greasy Grass.

We CAN do this and, YES, bring on the twenties!

Wise Words from Bob Ray

Okay, white dudes who are running around acting a fool... Take it from me, an old white dude... you have GOT to CALM DOWN.

That mythical time in the past, when white dudes ran the world... it ain’t comin’ back. It can’t. It’s basic math. We’re not ever gonna be the global majority. We never were. It’s not our world to play with. We have to share it. Hell, we’d better damn well hope that the folks who don’t look like us feel like sharing it with us, because there’s limited space on this ball of dirt, and more and more of it is on fire or under water every day.

Here’s the good news: those people who don’t look or act like you are actually... you may wanna sit down for this... they’re people. Just like you and me. No better, no worse.

So if you wanna identify yourself as a member of the white race, you’re on a team that’s shrinking and dwindling and disappearing. But it’s okay. There’s hope for you. You can join the rest of us in the HUMAN race, and walk into the future on a winning team.

People are people. We’re all more or less the same. Anyone who tells you different is selling something.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Bob Ray's a rockin musician, a cartoonist, a wicked smart dude and a friend 'o' mine.

Snippets

Sometimes on Shoutyface, amidst the cat/dog memes, political rants, sunrise/set and dinner pics there's wisdom to be had.

From the awesome sax playing cartoonist, Bob Ray Starker:

If you’ve ever said “I don’t see color,” just stop it. It’s ridiculous. Don’t say it anymore. Of COURSE you see color.

Not seeing color would be like not seeing blonde or ginger or brunette, or not seeing if someone is thick or thin, or male or female, or tall or short. These are things people are genetically born into, and you see them.

You see it. You notice it. 

It’s one step away from saying you don’t see a man-bun or a nose piercing or a MAGA hat or a hijab or a swastika tattoo. Those things are choices, and you SEE them.

Go ahead and see them, that’s not what matters. What matters is how you act, having seen them.
Don’t be blind, be conscious. Be conscious of what you see, and how you react to it, and what it causes other people to see in you.

Don’t judge people based on the physical things they were born into, and don’t immediately assume that you understand why they’ve made the choices you can see that they made. Maybe try to treat every person you meet as another person, equal to you and deserving of a chance to prove themselves.

Judge them on their actions, and not on your assumptions. They might surprise you.

But if, given a chance, they act like assholes, distance yourself and judge away. 😉

A clip from a longer Jim Wright post (go read the whole piece!) where he pinpoints precisely why he's getting sick up and fed with social media:

It's not the trolls, bots, religious nuts, right-wing nuts, and fanatical Stormtrumpers who spew hate and insanity in my face every day. I expect that and it doesn't bother me. Much.

Or rather it's not JUST that. 

No, it's the other side. The Tone Police, the Purity Patrol, the Social Justice suicide bombers willing to die on every goddamned hill, the self-appointed Editors who want to argue over every single word, the tedious pedants, and the guy who screams "BOT!" in response to every comment.

More than anything it's the smug self-righteous left-wing gatekeepers who show up to every post with "do better." 

I hate that fucking phrase.

Do better. No. Fuck you. No one should have to put up with that condescending bullshit. As soon as I see "do better" or any variation, out the airlock you go.
It’s not about disagreement. Or even about reasonable criticism. All of us should be able to handle that.

It's about ENTITLEMENT.

It's about those who see the rest of us as objects to be OWNED, improved, edited, managed, controlled, silenced and redirected. It's about dancing monkeys.

YUP! I’ve known a few folks like that. PAST tense.

AND today is Marathon Day. Snuck up on me this year. Totes understandable since I no longer work right at the finish line or live along the route. I don’t need to suffer the overwhelmingly HUGE crowds, the closed streets and T stations, the 500 person long lines for a damn cuppa. I often miss living in town but def NOT on Marathon Day.

I imagine the right wing Hate-the-Browns brigade will unpack their greatest hits from the 2013 Marathon on this day. They'll pretend their own kind hasn't been responsible for far more murders. With their cheerleader monster in the WH that number's only going up, up, UP .

Pride

My awesome friend Bob Ray Starker describes himself as a singing, songwriting, sax playing, illustrating, graphic designing primate. He’s from Columbus, Ohio and today’s post is by him.

There are things beyond your control that you are born with, like the color of your skin and eyes, or your gender, or your sexual orientation, or the place you were born, or who your parents were.

I think it's pointless to be proud or ashamed of those things, and I think it's stupid to base your opinion of other people based on those things.

The rest of your life, from birth onward, is a series of choices you make. Those choices are what you should be proud or ashamed of. I also think it's okay to base your opinion of other people on the choices they have made, provided you make some attempt to understand why they made them.

For example, I'm proud of being a decent sax player and cartoonist. I'm proud of being a halfway decent husband, son and friend. I'm proud of my parents, not because they made me, but because they're amazing people. I'm proud of being an American because I choose to stay here. Stuff like that.

I form my opinions of other people based on their choices and actions, after making an attempt to understand the context in which those choices were made.

I know I've been way too serious on here (Facebook) lately, and I apologize for not having a punchline here... but the KKK are openly recruiting in my hometown, and I am NOT okay with that.

If all you can be proud of is having white skin, I think you're a pretty sorry son of a bitch, and I will fight you until you change your mind or go away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of Bob’s friends, in response to another who asked why he couldn’t have “White Pride” since there’s "Black Pride,” added:

Malcolm X made a point of reminding 'negroes' (the word in common usage then) not to be ashamed of who they are, to not let people shame them for being black. From this emerged Black Pride.

In a societal context where racial discrimination is still the norm, the concept of black pride is not nonsense, because it is a response to systematic shaming. The keyword here is 'systematic' because the context is the evolution of society as a whole, rather than referring to assorted bigotries of one individual or another.

To borrow the phrase, "road to equality"...

At some point, if that road turns and equality is achieved, then "Black Pride" will become anachronistic.

As the road has gradually turned upward to equality, and it has since the time of Malcolm X, those who perceive the curve to be sufficient, who, citing an end of segregation laws, the election of a black president, etc. maintain that racial equality has finally been reached in the United States. For them the idea of "Black Pride" is absurd.

For those who perceive the road to equality as still only slightly curving, that there is still much to accomplish, the notion of "Black Pride" is relevant.

Which view one holds also reveals much about a person.

It is hoped that some day, the concept of racial pride will be universally accepted as being as completely absurd as pride in eye color, place of birth, or anything else one has no control over.

Until then...