The hardest part about coming home every year for the holidays is watching the slow aging of your parents. All of a sudden mom becomes so important. All of a sudden you realize that your mom just might be the most important treasure in your life. the most precious and valuable treasure you may ever have. When does this happen? I am trying desperately hard to not let go of that youthful attitude where we just totally take our parents for granted and we just act like we don't care. But its hard now. one minute we are just these kids or teenagers who don't care and in the next we find that we are becoming parents to our own parents. I hate that. 

All of a sudden now the sight of my mom when I see her for the first time each year and notice that she has aged a bit more, it just crushes my soul. Breaks my heart in pieces and makes me dread the day she gets old, like really old, or passes on. Then what? My God the fucking horror of that. My heart suffers for anyone who has lost their mother already. Mom lost her own mother about five years ago and still cries when she speaks of it. maybe that's just something that you never quite get over. 

I am reading people magazine. I know what you're thinking. Temporary insanity perhaps. But seriously. its really quite fun and sinfully enjoyable. Like eating potato chips or fast food or something, or sneaking away to smoke a cigarette. The thing that strikes me while reading people is how it is absolutely positively every bit as mainstream, inane, and irrelevant as you guess it would be, and yet at the same time it isn't. Granted, I'm reading the year-end recap issue, so maybe it offers a bit more meaning than most of the weeklies. This thing with queer eye for the straight guy is great. The idea that a few years ago, there was that whole Matthew Shepard horror and the whole don't ask don't tell shit in the American military, and now gay guys are on prime time TV giving straight guys make-overs. And of course Ellen has her own talk show and its rated number one. just a few short years ago, it was considered so taboo when she “came out” as being gay. Watching humanity evolve. This is a huge thing for us. And you also get to see all the hot actresses dressed up in people, which is nice too. and that guy surfer chick who lost her arm and is still out there going for #1. and that rock climber who cut his own arm off because he was trapped under a boulder for five days in Utah. How inspiring. I'm hooked on People.   

[when I was a kid I used to love US and People magazine. When I got to my teens I reached this point where I wouldn’t be caught dead reading it. I mean, I would rather have been caught dead than even thinking about reading one of those magazines. Because after all, when you are a teenager... you know the drill. Switched over to soaking up all the philosophy I could for years, and then of course literature, making the rounds, then the sciences, and then the religions, its like we go on this search... for God... for meaning... for something deeper than Bennifer and Britney etc... [no seriously, bennifer and Britney truly have been around that long. for decades now, just their names change. I tried to think of examples from the eighties or nineties but I couldn’t. that's the thing... they just kind of disappear, get sucked up by the new Bennifers and the new Britneys... but I digress.] So scooting through your twenties and you're all about the sciences and the real world stuff, how electricity works and how to make money and save money and start empires and take over empires and all of that stuff. after a while you kind of give up on the whole religion thing because it becomes rather frustrating. you start to realize that God isn't actually in any of the religions, kind of still hiding in the Tao te ching really, but none of the religions want people to know that, so they keep it a secret. That's why they all align themselves with governments and armies and all that. because they realize, unlike most human civilizations yet, that religion isn't about God as much as about who has the most money and who has the most guns and might and influence. This could help explain why God is still hiding in the Tao te ching and so few people know it. the Taoists and the Buddhists don't have any guns. They never really bothered to attack and kill a lot of people or take over any countries so they never had a chance at making their religion one of the major ones. Unlike the big three. but the point is after a while you just kind of give up on all that stuff. you accept that its all kind of fucked up and wonky and maybe just best to leave it all alone. let other people swing with if they want to. as long as they aren't trying to ram it down your throat... so all of a sudden you pick up a People magazine again...]

Current read: The world of Islam. (LOL) Studying the Muslim religion now. Learning a lot. What a mess this whole thing is. 

It's Christmas. I just woke up. The house is filled with the joy of the day. the girls have opened half of their presents. Beav and T are in the kitchen making breakfast. Mom is playing with the girls and the Christmas day parade at Disney is on the television. I'm going around taking pictures of everyone. They said, Fishy now that we had to come home here to your moms, (after having moved to Kansas this year and not living close to mom anymore) we understand why you are so excited every year to come here. Everyone is so happy to be together. Our hearts are filled with joy.  

[There was a moment this morning sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree opening our presents. We had the CD player on shuffle spinning various Christmas cds and a song came on from Elvis. T makes this comment, oh awesome, Elvis. Someone says oh honey does it remind you of your father? [T’s father is a boat captain and in his spare time is an Elvis impersonator. I'm not making this up. its true. and like mine and Beav’s father has just never been around.] And she says, this is probably the closest I'm going to get to talking to my father today. Everyone stopped for a moment. Just silence. Then I said, ‘you know what T? We probably won't talk to our father either. Those guys can just fuck off.’ And we went about our glorious morning. As much as it may hurt or make you angry as a person whose father never cared about you, and its certainly fun and somehow sinfully rewarding to take a jab at them whenever you can, underneath it all I have an understanding of it too. I mean a deeper understanding of what it must be like for the men whose wives just happened to get pregnant and all of a sudden at a very young and immature age found themselves fathers, even if perhaps they hadn't planned on it or didn't even feel ready for the experience. Back then it wasn't like it is today where people plan that kind of thing out more. people are waiting a lot longer to have children now. back then they were pushing them out by their early twenties as was the case with our parents. Me, I have purposely tried to avoid having children, trying to put if off as long as I can, because of this fear of not wanting to be the kind of run away dad that my own father was. I know how it affected me and Beav. And I wouldn’t want to do that to anyone. So I just keep trying to avoid it. chances are Beav and I will force ourselves to call the old man sometime today and wish him a Merry Christmas and shoot the breeze a little. But that's a strange thing, your relationship with a father who you never really got to know growing up. you just can’t force that relationship. The connection is just not there. you start to realize that your family may not be your blood all the time. when it is it’s a great thing. but its not always that way for everyone. T and her sister were raised by their grandparents, and so that's who their real parental figures are. And that's o.k. with them. And for me and Beav it was our grandparents and our mom. Mom was our father and our mother. And the older I get the more I start to realize that me and Beav are extra lucky for that. for having a mom who was so awesome that she could be both like that for us. this year has really been amazing for me. last year I probably spent a few thousand dollars on Christmas presents for everyone in my world. That's where I was at financially and had been for a long time. This year I didn't have squat for cash so I barely gave presents to anyone. Just mom. And as much as it sucks being financially strapped like that, it has had a really profound effect on me. it kind of forces you into really appreciating the simple things about the holidays. Like just being able to afford to fly out here and be with your family. If I ever do have the blessing of having children I hope I can be as good of a parent as my own mom was.]  

Home now with the fam. The little nieces are so cute. So fresh and innocent. Mom is baking cookies. Beaver is under the sink trying to fix moms water filter. I'm playing the guitar by the fire and singing with the little nieces. Old Cary grant movies playing on the TV.  

Sometimes my heart aches for a deep romantic love relationship and family of my own. but I see what Beav and T are dealing with now. its constant attention out. and me, I'm in a world that is constant attention in. That's funny, I get paid to spend a lot of time alone and write and sing about it. Last night I was showing everyone slide shows from my laptop of my various adventures from this last year—we had such a wonderful time---and while I'm doing that they are combination in awe of it all---“you did what at an all night sex club?! We didn't even know things like that were legal. Mom close your ears.” “Dudes, let me tell you something. everything is legal. Just depends on who you’re hanging with and how much money you have.” And then having to obsess over every move the two little nieces make every second. Don't touch that. don't put that in your mouth. Do you want your bottle? Its time for you to eat. no no no don't pull on that. and I'm like, there's just no way I'm there yet. Uncle Fishy do you want to make a parade with me now? and I'm like, oh what a great idea. And then after a minute I'm like o.k. enough. time for uncle fishy to go play his guitar honey. And they just sit there while I play and dance around. Loads of fun. Easy breezy being an uncle, but to be a father? Crazy. not yet. 

Their cute faces are so adorable when they look up at you and smile. Children are so amazing. but mes wants to go hunt animals in wild safaris in Africa and work on a kibbutz in Israel for a few months and live in a quaint little one room chateau on the French Riviera by myself smoking and writing and composing and falling down drunk in my bed every night with my clothes still on. I know, such simple goals. And of course I am dying to get out and tour the states this year too. So the kids thing is not going to happen just yet.

But it does get me a little sentimental I must admit. Seeing Beav and T so happy and such a tight little unit. It sets my heart a soaring. Somewhere out there is the perfect one. perfect for me. perfect for her. Perfect for us where we both are now. 

Current Read: Reverence for life, selected writings of Albert Schweitzer. Those to whom good things happen in their lives must feel called upon to give of their lives in order to alleviate misery of others. 

Current Spin: lots of Christmas CDs by Johnny Mathis, Barbara, carpenters, Frank and Bing, Elvis, Mariah Carey, beach boys. Good times indeed.

On plane bound for AZ to be with the fam. Tired. I am desperately looking forward to being pampered by mom, hanging with my bro, and playing with the five nieces. And dying to spend time in the snow. This year it'll be big Bear Mountain in California, which supposedly has five separate free-style trails, caters mostly to snow-boarders.

Last night I had this dream that I was able to fly up very high into the air with the aid of these large balloons that I would hold onto underneath each arm. I was running from people---who?---and then jump up. I would jump and up I'd go for miles into the air, this time It looked like perhaps I was in a mall type of a building. I would rise above everything. landing would be very scary, the coming down part, because I would fall down to the ground so quickly. I noticed that my heart beat very quickly as I would come back down, wondering what kind of an impact the landing would have on my legs and body just because I would soar so high. But each time the landing was o.k. and I managed to land on my feet and it didn't hurt so bad each time.

This is the third time this year from what I can remember that I have had this dream, the second one I can remember most vividly, and the first I only remember as i was sure in the second one that it was not the first. That I had already been there a few times before. in that second one as well as the first, there were no balloons involved that I needed to hang onto. I would just jump up and I would shoot up into the sky for miles and then come back down. I was subtly aware that it was all up to me the whole time. that I was the one who was controlling how high I went up into the air, how quickly, and how fast I shot back down. But for some reason I could not quite get control of it. I couldn’t get complete control of how high I would go. it made me feel kind of out of control, and a little frightened. I knew the higher I would go and the farther that I would go the better, but then I worried about how I would get back down. But everytime the landing was alright. I was fine. Interesting. [let yourself go man. Let go bro. Let go and fly bro. Just let it happen.]   

I have noticed that as soon as I decided and declared my desire to make France/French my next country/language to conquer I notice it showing up everywhere in my world the last few weeks. Meeting all these people who are going there to live also.... interesting how that works. 

Not working enough. But trying to. Need to catch up before I leave for the holidays. For the record, this is the week where a whole row of keys on my laptop don't work. They go in and out. and it is truly hilarious trying to decipher what I type. See below. Band sounds great. Show on Saturday. Found out today that the sleep with you album is charting on a lot of different stations all over the country. In all these cites we have never even heard of. We are all so happy. 

Listening to Wayne Dyer every night as i go to sleep. I Love him. Especially this tape he has called real magic. At this point i would rather work on being happy and fulfilled and just walk around le m floating rather than being cool.  Thn perhaps that  spent too much time worried about being cool. What s cool? Being happy and fulfilled. That's cool being Neo. So I listen to these tapes every night. Process n your sleep. You wake up feeling psyched and energized and confident and ready for another day of manifesting your dreams and those of others.

PS--- found The Adventures of Fishy. For real. Fifteen years of writing that I thought was lost forever. 2 huge boxes crammed with notebooks and journals. Thank God. Finally. [Later in the story I will lose this all again. and it will be found by someone else. I have no idea by who of course. But for now it is in my possession. I will do my best to get it edited and typed in. Why I don't know. What the hell is any of this about anyway???] I did not realize how much writing there was. I had no idea, no memory of how much I wrote. It is quite insane. There are books and books and books filled with notes about every conceivable subject imaginable. It is a brilliant idea for a story. Man wakes up one day, finds boxes. Realizes he is a writer. Never realized it before. [Now what exactly is a writer? Can you just be someone who writes and be a writer? Or do you have to be published writer? Do you have to have people that like your writing? Does the writing itself have to have some sort of social or artistic significance in order for one to be called a writer? Or if a person just writes a lot does that a writer make? Hhhmmmm. I have no time for any of that though. Because I am just too fucking busy writing all the time.] I guess I just always did it and never realized what that actually meant. Bas screams why the fuck don't you take your writing seriously?! I am man. You aren't man. I am too man. I write a few hours every fucking day; you know that. Yeah but what do you do with it all? You just write and then what??? Put it in some boxes so you can lose them and find them five years later???!!!! What kind of a fucking game is that? Look at this fucking box we have found here. This could be a gold mine! We could be living like kings and sipping Crystal right now for God sakes, with hot babes under each arm! Publish this shit man! Do something with it. I tell him, Dude, I gotta sing with the baaaaaand. That's my passion. I write because I have to. I was born doing it. its like my unfortunate mission. But I sing and write songs because I want to bro. That's what I love.” “Whatever man. Lets get rich first and then you can sing with the band. You wrote and submitted one fucking screen play in a week and you won a contest and got published. So that should tell you something. Maybe you can come up with a fake name or something if you want to. so it doesn’t effect your music career or effect the band at all. you know like a pen name... he says. Hhhmmm, I think. What an interesting idea. 

Current Spin: cesare cremonini,  Bagus. I Love this album! and also, Louis Armstrong Christmas.  

Thanksgiving morning. Woke up to Justin’s new one, justified. KICK ASS! Brown Bear is getting married today. I am responsible for playing the different CDs during the ceremony. Which means I am supposed to be there by 10 am. I tell Brown Bear over the phone dude how the hell am I supposed to be there at 10AM? You know how fucking early that is? Are you crazy? anyway I scheduled three different wake up calls to make sure I woke up in time. I made it. Justin's new CD is slamming and deserved the attention it got. It’s a white guy making black music so its got that touch of both; sounds really groovy. Watched a little football to wake up. And got ready.

I was one of the few friends of brown bears invited to this his second wedding. So I decided not to go fly home to be with the fam this year so I could do his wedding. I felt very honored to be a part of a very intimate family affair. Man we go back a long time. the Wolf wasn't here. I don't know why. the cat either. Can’t get a hold of the cat. Miss her a lot. They are going through such changes now. divorce and selling the house and all that. who would have known? life really does kind of ebb and flow in a way that is unpredictable at times. And we keep flowing. We don't have a choice.

The wedding was very beautiful. in the back porch, under the cool sun. there was a moment when Brown Bear was saying his vows to his new bride, shall we call her little bear, and she had this look in her eye, staring up at him and you could just see this love and appreciation and joy in her eyes. it was something that I hope to see in my own bride’s eyes one day. it was heart-warming. A truly joyous affair. After the ceremony, a few people made a toast. So I said one myself, “on behalf of all of your friends that I am sure wish they could be here on this special day, I want to make this toast which has very profound connotations among men: a very long and high pitched “ddddduuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudddddddddddddde.” All the older people looked at me like ‘what did he just say?” it was very funny. But his mom gave me this look of ‘thank you’ with a glean in her eye. We all clinked glasses.

Ali Bear is here of course. I am sitting here typing and watching her out of the corner of my eye. She is holding a baby. She looks so beautiful and motherly in the cool sunlight. We used to date back in college. Spent a few months together. We had a nice time. I stare at her and wonder. She's going to make a wonderful wife. Happy to still be here. part of their family for so long. the kind of friends where you take each other for granted almost. You can be in the same house for a few hours and just hang out. I have that here with them. I like that. we’re lucky when we have that in our lives. not being with my own fam this holiday and yet so appreciative that I have two very special places to go, two kind of surrogate families. After this we’ll all meet up at Madelyn O'Ryan’s house for another dinner and desert.

Last night I went to Zeke’s to record trophy wife’s background vocals to our new album. we are finished at Vancouver's house. Just trying to finish some backgrounds on nothing is cohesive. Zeke volunteered to finish producing it and mix it. I found myself so happy working with trophy wife again. she has this amazing voice and it gets me very giddy singing with her. She glows.  Like an angel. Similar to Madelyn O'Ryan. There's pix of her on the rise and shine album. She is a special person, kind of child-like, innocent, sweet natured, so it adds this touch of sweetness and joy to our projects. She is our secret weapon. It really felt good, working out the back ground vocals to a few songs, tomorrow and bored. I thought to myself, this is what Transcendence is all about. This is transcendence. This interaction between the three of us working on this great music.

A Must or Want?

At the airport to fly home for the holidays. Long lines to check your baggage. Another long line to obtain boarding pass. Long lines at security. Empty your pockets. Open your laptop, turn on your handheld, open your phone please sir. Take off your boots please, sir. By the time you are finished just checking in and going through security, it's been over an hour if you're lucky, longer most of the time. No food on the flights any more, so you go hungry the whole time. 

Couple in front of me had a baby in a stroller. Going through security for them was a mess. Empty your pockets please, sir. Mam, we need to see inside your purse. Mam, please take the baby out of the carriage. Sir, you're going to have to pack up the stroller and put it on the cart please. Ten minutes later and we’re still waiting for them to go through security and the man turns around to me and says, “sorry about this.” I had already gone through twice myself due to having a butane lighter and a retractable pen in my briefcase, which I had to check. “No problem,” I said, “we’re all in this together,” I mumbled to him and smiled.