blitchin

Yes, I know – I forget every year.

And you swore to me that you’d be devastated if I ruined  it now by remembering… so yesterday I pretended to forget.

I didn’t call you, or send you a gift.

I just wanted to all day.

Few people in my life have had the impact that you did. You’ve watched me grow from being an obnoxious punk teenager, to being a somewhat obnoxious punk adult.  You came to almost every show I played back in NYC, walked with me for hundreds of miles throughout those years, and laughed with me more than anyone.  You taught me style, and grace, culture and greatest of all, how to love my own family.

You also taught me that a man can have incredible taste in wine, women, fashion, music, even Ferraris, and still like an ugly car on the cover of a magazine. ( yes I still remember)

You’ve seen me through every broken heart, mental breakdown, tantrum, and loved me anyway.

You’ve sent me off on every major move, kept me company at work a thousand times,had me over your house to eat, to laugh and even once to live – and once you even paid my phone bill.

You have been the Greatest Friend I could ask for for longer than I can remember. (almost 20 years)

You’ve always let me be me, and even better – you always remained yourself.

And I have never said Happy Birthday on Feb 10th, and I never will.

Happy Birthday Carlo.

Thank You for everything.  I wouldn’t have lived this long without you.

They say a man can be judged by his friends.  I hope that’s true.  I have the greatest friends in the world.

Not all of them even read these blogs, but if they did, I’d hope they would see themselves in the contribution each of them has made in my Life.

I didn’t grow up with a lot of friends. I wasn’t very popular, got picked on a lot ( KISS, Crue & Twisted Sister were not cool kid music in my town) and I never had much of a crew to hang around with until later in high school.

My Life turned a corner when I went to school in NYC. In those years I made more friends than I knew what to do with. Many of them I’m close with today.  All of them changed my Life.

I’ve watched a few lose their minds, die before their time, and a couple just vanished. There are those who fight the good fight, and a few that just like to rumble.

Some of them are genius, and others simple. Most of them have seen Life in ways others can’t imagine, done things people write books about, and lived on the edge of a dream praying to never wake up.

They all have one thing in common. The greatest thing they have all done is let me into their lives.  I’ve been honored to be present to unbelievable humanity in the people I’ve called friends.

Tales of great courage, adventure, desire, creation, love, innovation, education, struggle, suffering, compassion, thinking, excitement, despair, valor, tragedy,  & triumph.

But the greatest gift of ALL -

My friends have all let me fuck up. I am loved by more people than I can count and the only things outnumbering them are the mistakes I’ve made in Life and in friendships. ( that goes triple for my family, but that’s another blog)

People have many extraordinary gifts, but the ability to be loving and compassionate to someone who is clearly wrong is perhaps the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.

Mystics & Sages call it Mercy.

I call it My Friends.

I love you all… thank you.

Whether asked or declared I’ve found this subject rather transcendent among all people.

How many heros fought bravely to win or defend the heart of someone they loved, against a villain who’s heart was broken.

Some fall in Love often, and for others it’s far more rare.  I’ve met some rough & tumble badass motherfuckers who found themselves head-over-heels in for a woman, just as I’ve seen plenty of PBS Poets, crafty politicians, scientists, nerds, lawyers, rockers, doctors,students, sinners, saints, surfers, and even the just plain bored.

Falling in love seems to be universal among people, from all walks of life.

This is hardly a newsflash.

So what’s my point?

I don’t have one.  And neither does falling in love. Perhaps there is no reason or point REALLY inside this glorious occurrence other than the simple fact that we CAN.  And whether it happens twice in your Life, or every time you go to Whole Foods (trust me… wow) today I invite you to fall in love and hit the floor.

Scientists have proven that more people will fall in love this year than ever before in human history. (By “scientists” I mean me, and by “proven” I mean speculate… and by human history, again I mean me.)

Let it go.

Have a summer romance before the winter ends, go ahead and play games with your heart – just please be clear that you are- and never fault anyone not ready to play.

Lighten up.

Enjoy your humanity for a change, and find a way to celebrate someone else’s.  Fly among the angels in love with the world and the people in it – and invite someone to fly with you.

Go get hurt.

Don’t be such a sissy! You’re not a kid anymore. Falling in love might hurt like hell at some point, and so what?? Who the fuck ever said Life was about never hurting?  If you remain a baby all your Life, always playing it small and safe – you’ll end up with a Life that didn’t even get used when you die.  Yes, you can die from a broken heart – but imagine the Life you got to Love before it ended…. almost seems worth it to me. In fact – deep down inside I’ll bet my ass you’d do ANYTHING to be so deep in love you could die from a broken heart.   (You’re rather dramatic aren’t you? hahahahah)

Enjoy your Life my friends, and the greatest February 2012 will ever produce.

That’s the kind of thing I would save for a trip back to New York, or even my childhood town in NJ.  Lately I’ve had visions and daydreams of the East coast, and missing everyone, everything, everywhere.

It isn’t time yet to move back, I have not finished what I came to LA to do.

Home.

I’ve had homes in several countries, many cities, and dozens of neighborhoods.

Home.

I’ve felt at home in towns I never lived in, among people I barely knew.

Home.

I’ve been welcomed to live in the houses of others, invited to the tables of friends and treated like family by more households than I ever dreamed.

Home.

So much of my life I’ve lived like a runaway, and no matter where I ran- I was always home. And that was as maddening as it was comforting. I seem hardwired to rebel against every home I have, and I’m never short of a home to come back to.

I don’t think that’s much to be proud of, but if it’s true than I wish to see it, and admit it.

I’ve never been fully at home anywhere, – always needing to be everywhere.  Always craving to see more, meet more, listen to more, speak to more, live more.

AND…

Once more I need to express this – that you made this move, this trip, and this time incredible. YOU made Life show up when otherwise I’d have just been alone.

You make here- Home.

Thank YOU for who you’ve been, who you are, and who you shall be.

Thank You for my Home.

I never do what I’m supposed to. Even if I do, I either do it way too early, or far too late.

or totally backwards.

Don’t believe me? —- I’ve been known to let others start  my Knock Knock jokes.

I get crazy into bands way after they were cool ( KISS, Black Sabbath, anything from Scandanavia), or long before (Hardcore Superstar), sobered up before I could legally drink, and ran away from home (to Tokyo) long after I’d already moved out anyhow (to New York).

I dropped out of college when I finally made the Honor Roll.

I watch all movie sequels before the original, read Return Of The King long before The Hobbit, and to this day I’ve never seen Terminator.

I eat pie or pasta for breakfast, eggs & french toast for dinner, and I’m currently shopping around for a VCR so I can tape episodes of my new favorite show           ”Mad About You.”

All my life I’ve been early, late, or just in an odd zone mostly by myself. At best I’d have a few misfits to cause some chaos with.

And now, at what may be the most perfect time in my Life ever, 3 of the coolest misfits have indeed shown their faces into the oddest zone yet.  Together we’ve created a rock n roll sound cooler than most of what’s out there now, and have written songs that make playing music fun again. On one hand the timing is off because the Rock n Roll World we were raised in is long gone.That makes us outcasts in a culture that would rather watch rich cougar housewives, and brainless sluts stumble over petty opinions and plastic junk. On the other hand it’s perfect for the same reason.

If the 90’s taught us anything it might be that you can only sell people complete shit for so long before somebody shouts “The Emperor’s Not Wearing Any Clothes!!!”

Only this time, the crowd won’t be laughing.

When the people get that they’ve been lied to – they’ll be angry. And nothing speaks to angry youth like rock n roll.  Nothing.

And when they’ve blown off enough steam those maniacs will wanna party. There exists no greater party music than rock.

All my life I wanted to be somewhere else, someone else, or if possible somewhen else.

Today,I’m happy to be right here, right now — one of the 4 Horsemen who will usher in a Rock n Roll Apocalypse, and bring a sonic salvation to a culture swamped in the deceit of pop nonsense, and corporate trash.

We stand as outcasts, and before long we’ll rise from the Underground and set ablaze a notion that Rock n Roll is Dead.

Baby… if rock’s dead — you’re about to get your lazy ass kicked by some Bad Ass Boogie Zombies.

Enjoy the Show.

B

I broke my hand a month ago and it’s in a cast for another 2 weeks. PLUS I’ve had a family nightmare to deal with so I’m not even up to my normal life right now.

PLEASE bare with me. and enjoy a nice video

i’ve done almost everything in this

This goes out to the unsung heros who’s songs keep us moving.

The bands that will never play an arena, never fly first class, never get the cover of Rolling Stone.

While it may have been the “Rock Gods” that got me started into this life, it was the fallen angels of local bars, clubs, lofts and basements that lit my fire.  10 years ago New York City began to burn bright with dozens of hungry, pissed off, fun loving, lunatic bands that came together and caused a riot in the underground.

Wednesdays were Dons’,Thursday nights were best spent at the Cups,  the weekends came alive & loud at CB’s, Continental, Arlene’s, and all the while-  bands kept coming together to kick ass.  We all lived and worked within a few mere miles of each other.  We had brick lofts in Brooklyn, apartments on the L.E.S., jobs in the East Village, and plenty of places to hide from each other when we needed to.

For the first time in ages, we were the true indie weirdo’s. We worshiped bands most people never heard of, sweated our faces  off watching our own friends take the stage, told anyone who would listen about the new groups that turned us on, and worked harder than many of us ever had in our lives  to see this dream grow.

And indeed it did.

As I said, we began the whole scene as fallen angels. Taking whatever divine spark we had and caused a rebellion in the face of a world that told us rock was dead.  It was the greatest time in my life. Whether we rose to the heights we dreamed of or not, even if most of us didn’t make it out of the clubs.

Last year I spent the first minute of my birthday taking a bow in my home city, telling the honest truth about my life. Today I’ll spend it with a hand surgeon, and an empty house.  My motorcycle accident may have broken my thumb, but not my spirit.

Because  for the fallen, there is nowhere to go but up.

All I want for my birthday this year is for every musician I know to take a minute and remember the kid he/she once was. That kid who couldn’t play a note, but dreamed of playing in a rock band.     Take a minute and get present to everything we’ve seen, done, had, lost, built, and gotten lucky with.

Rise together brother & sisters, and let’s face Armageddon with more rock n roll fury than ever before.   Whether it’s your first band, or your last stand… GET UP !

Make 2012 The Year of Rock n Roll !!!!!!

because if the fuckin Mayan’s are right, this might be my last birthday.

People have been on me for a while to comment on the movement forming in our cities over the last few months. The more I learn of what’s happening the more afraid I am to speak out.  My calling in life never seemed to be activism, and neither of my parents were  hippies.

And then I woke up.

Somewhere along the way I had the rude awakening that we’ve been lied to, by people more clever than we could possibly imagine.  We got sold an idea that there are the “kind of people who protest” and the good citizens who eat at McDonalds  and  obey the law, pay taxes, and smile at whatever Washington says.

We have been in the midst of a civil war the likes of which most Americans don’t even recognize. Even saying so sounds absurd to most of us, but if you look around, listen, read, research just a little … it becomes very, very clear. What we have is a multi-sided  civil war, with more sub-divisions than anyone can count. We will destroy most of ourselves before any external threat.

The only thing We The People have going for us is that we out number those trusted servants we employ.  The problem with the 99% is that we hate each other.  We take sides against each other and we remain convinced that everyone who disagrees with our side is either evil, backwards, retarded, or just wrong.  The thing that the 1% have going for them is Unity.  They know who they are, what they want, and how to get it.  They don’t care about the petty stupid things they disagree on. They stand for each other regardless.

We on the other hand do not.

We bought the bullshit. We are divided by our politics, our religion, education, regional location, national origin, ethnicity, race, beliefs, sexuality,  economics, income, and even our taste in fucking music.

Divided by where we shop, where we go to school, whether we’re cat people or dog people, snow people or beach people,  KISS people or RUSH people.

The thing we seem to love more than anything is finding a damn good reason to hate someone else, and then pretend we don’t. It’s a cold war we are fighting amongst ourselves, and we don’t even know –     or care.

We pride ourselves on our diversity. Yet no one seems to notice that while our diversity fights each other rich & powerful people are sucking the life out of our lungs.

The best weapon against a free nation is it’s own freedom. Yes you are free and clear to take sides, to join any political party, to go to any church, to listen to anything you want. YES you are free to hate and scream at anyone you don’t like. You are free to think you are right about anything, and free to yell all about it all day long.

And you are also free to wake up and see that most of what you & I are screaming about makes no difference. What counts is that 300 million people for the most part hate each other and therefore will never unite on anything that CAN make a difference.

Do yourself a favor. Don’t listen to me. Just look out at Life and see if what shows up even remotely reflects what I’m pointing to.

And for the record…  I hate pointing this out.  I like to argue and fight as much as anyone else.  I love being right, drawing lines in the sand, and making fun of shit I don’t like (esp RUSH, New Wave, Republicans, and Wal-Mart).

Our petty squabbles are becoming obsolete.

My fear is that by the time most Americans get hip to what I’m talking about, it might be too late.

( This is the same post I wrote last year.  I don’t think I could say it any better this time…)

Today is Veteran’s Day. And most of you didn’t even know.

My Dad served in the US Army for 2 years back in the late 60’s. Vietnam was a nightmare I’ll never understand, and even though it sucked ass, my Father never lost his love for his country.

His country spit on him when he came back, called him names and never once have I heard him talk shitty about another man the way people talked about Vets back then.

And he still loves this country.

My Dad was drafted. He didn’t want to go, his mother had just died, he was young and this war was a lost cause. And he went anyway, and served as best he could.

He had every reason to run, and he didn’t.

My Dad is a hero in my life. And I make sure to call him every single Veteran’s Day, say thank you- and tell him how much I love him.  It doesn’t matter what I think of Vietnam, or war, or my government. Today isn’t about my feelings, or political opinions, or whether I think we should be fighting somewhere, or whatever.

It’s about taking some time to say Thank You to men & women who have the guts and honor to do things I will never have to do.  It’s about saying “Welcome Home” to every Nam Vet I meet (which I still do), and it’s about remembering that thousands of real people, good people, – gone forever, who gave their lives to their country.

A country that so easily forgets.

Forget the TV commercials, and the cool action movies. War sucks. Killing sucks. And watching your friends die is horror. Our government cares so little about our People in Service, and Veterans are pushed aside all too often.  As the holidays approach, I invite you to reach out to Vet’s anywhere and everywhere you can.  Give food, money, blankets, sing a song, tell a joke, play cards, listen to their stories, let them know they still matter.

We have the largest military in the world, so guess what… we have the largest veteran population too.

Enjoy the season as much as you can, and spread the love.

B