Posts Tagged ‘Spanish Guitar’

I absolutely love the New Year; always have, always will.  If this didn’t happen, we’d be stuck in the same… (what?), forever.  Wouldn’t be a year, but the psychological ramifications of NOT measuring time on a cyclical basis would be uber-depressing.  Hey friends, happy new… nothing?  Day?  OK – I’ll take whatever I can get.  Happy Same Year, Happy Old Year, Happy Furthering of the Dredge and the Drudgery, with no good drunken blowouts to shake off the cobwebs and kick the minor negatives permanently into the past.  This is a powerful thing man, for me it is at least!

I always make resolutions, albeit lightheartedly.  I know this is not dead serious, and I enjoy thinking about a brand new slate.  But thankfully, we have no shortage of the cranky and cynical to keep us in line and remind us that “It’s just another day, sheeple – no different than yesterday or tomorrow”.  THANK YOU – because here was I, watching for unicorns and expecting the Rapture.  Sir Dickimus of Headicus, maybe you should go tell your 3-year-old now that Santa is bullshit and Grandma is “actually” decomposing in the mud!  Go have a beer and get o’er yersel, fer the sake of Auld Lang Syne.

2013 was momentous in many ways, and 2014 will be epic.  A Few Notables:

Both my beautiful and amazing kid sisters had babies.  The youngest sis has very severe diabetes, and was told by medics her whole life that this could never happen, her body couldn’t support a pregnancy.  Fuck you, doc – both are alive and well and as radiant as ever, and our clan is 2-stronger because of it.  Go Defiance!

554043_586423754736893_1503031208_n  Dylan Tigger

My Sis-in-Law DIDN’T get blown up in the Boston Marathon.  Then after she didn’t get blown up, she got married to a wonderful man and they built a gorgeous new house to start their life together.

My Uncle-in-Law (who ALSO didn’t get blown up) turned 70, and we partied like Hobbitses into the small hours of the summer.

We met a few new friends, musicians  & art afficionados, and bade adieu to a few more moving on to new adventures and pastures.  Those friends that moved on, we sent them off like Vikings, and feasted like Klingons in their honor.  Very memorable days.

I began working on the writing for a SICK jazz album, and have never been happier with the sounds coming out of my guitar. On top of my game indeed, and loving it up Big Willy Style.

Apologies to the notables I have missed – this bears no reflection on your noteworthiness.  Oh, and I didn’t die.

And for 2014?

Planning a trip to England to see the fam, and meet the clan members born since my departure.

I have 2 big anniversaries late in 2014:  10 years living in the USA, and 10 years married to the most amazing woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing.  AJ, I love you soooooooo much, you make me want to retire early, so I can just hang out with you all day every day.  Screw you, proponents of marital combat – try wedding your best friend in the world, and then you’ll see that men and women aren’t enemies.

Happy New Year!!!

Dylan and Dad

Good things are happening this week!  I decided to start diversifying my activities, and rekindle a few old creative flames, to offset my day-job blah.  As a result:

I have been invited to play at a jazz recital in June, and soon afterwards, to start teaching guitar at Zabinski music studio, in Pawtucket’s Hope Artiste Village.  Very excited!  So I will get to test my new crazy solo jazz-classical style on a real live audience.  Fingers crossed they don’t pelt me with rotten tomatoes.  I also want to start a mosh pit of really small children, and make this venture mutually entertaining. It has been approximately 12 years since I last played live, so my heart is thanking me profusely for getting off my arse again.

I also just did an interview with Motif magazine, a local arts / entertainment paper, for a feature they’re writing on me in their next issue, focusing on the publication and sale of “Vegetables” in Machine of Death, and my current mission to film-script the story and try to sell that on the back of some media-whoring I’m planning.

This weekend is also Gaspee Days festival in Warwick’s Pawtuxet Village, so if you’re heading down there, look out for my friend Kari, and her incredible macramé jewelry designs at the Fnurra Smycken tent!  If you buy lots of her stuff this weekend as a result of my pitch, I reckon she might buy me a beer next time we’re out.  But I haven’t proposed this to her yet, and I still owe her a shot of Jameson’s.  Seriously though, her work is truly awesome.


Have a great long weekend folks!  I’m not getting out of bed on Monday, for any reason.  By Tuesday, my reason will be to shower and change the sheets.

Since Monday, I’ve had the apartment to myself while my wife is having a mega-needed vacation with her sister and sister’s granddaughter, following a year of hell. I was unable to get this week out of work, as I just had 2 weeks out, and much is happening right now. So brief background: I’m from England, my wife is from the US, and after we fell in love, it took another year and a half of immigration paperwork & waiting before we were allowed to be together. That was eight years ago, and I have been clinging to her leg ever since. Not a day goes by in which I don’t enjoy the hell out of her company, marvel that I scored her, or laugh because she is freakin hilarious. We’re not accustomed to being apart, and neither particularly relished that specific aspect of the idea of this week. But anyway – it was happening, so what was I to do but plan to make good of my evening solitude for the next 5 days. I was going to A) attain full Zen / GodHead / Nirvana. B) Finish a 20K novella I started writing last week. C) Get another ~ 15 – 20 pages done on the script and D) Cook ,walk, exercise, play some Spanish guitar each day, get an oil change, etc etc etc.

But I wasn’t duly prepared for how mopey I was going to feel when Adrienne wasn’t around. The place sucks without her, I don’t feel like doing any of that stuff, I’m uninspired, and work was busier than anticipated, so I’m also pretty tired by the time I get home.

So instead of the above plans transpiring, I have: Eaten too much take-out food, watched about nineteen episodes of Hell’s Kitchen, finished a big tub of mint choc chip ice cream and a bottle of chocolate sauce, and almost moped a hole right in the hardwood floor.

Big revelations: I’m a baby who doesn’t function well without my other jigsaw piece. I love love, this is why I have drifted over the years from writing horror / horrendous material to writing light hearted romantic comedies. It takes a loooooong time immersed in your own world to write a novel. When I would spend that time in a horrendous world, my sunny disposition began to duck behind clouds. But when I spend it in a love story without any real pain or danger involved, I feel good. Pretty basic emotions 101; Laughing = Good. Terror = Every cell in your body is afraid, and concurs that you need to escape this situation STAT. Maybe this is why so many horror writers are weird, and the cynics & realists commit or attempt suicide. (Sylvia Plath, Kurt Vonnegut, Robert E. Howard, Hunter Thompson…)

I actively avoid and reject reality – it’s better for my mood.