Tag: diy

just lucky

I’m aware of my privilege… more and more all the time. In the past few years I’ve managed to reach the age where this whole fragile and flawed system by which we live is set up for me to succeed – at least as much as is possible in the wake of unsustainable financial devastation left for us by our boomer ancestors.

I live in a nice little house in an up-&-coming area of town, I have a partner I scarcely deserve for a myriad of reasons, and a well-mannered and intelligent teenage kid who is turning into a very thoughtful and smart adult. I drive a good vehicle. I have a vintage hobby car and a stable full of excellent guitars. I write rock & roll songs and I record and perform them with some very talented musicians, and I get paid more handsomely than ever before to do that. Sure, I have a day job, but it’s a very good one, where I am treated well and have influence. I supervise some very cool people, and we make each other’s lives easier whenever possible. Things will continue to get better and better.

I guess this is optimism.

As this gets posted, I’m actually in the middle of a 3-day mini-tour of Southern Alberta. We played Calgary on Thursday, and Castle Mountain Ski Resort last night, and today we’re en route to Lethbridge before heading home on Sunday. We’ll be heading home with money in our pockets, and we’ll begin making a new record when we get there.

Once upon a time I fantasized about this life. A recent phone conversation with an old friend reminded me of that… which reminds me, I should call him again.

I’m truly grateful for what I have and where it’s going.
If everything halted in it’s tracks and this is exactly what my life was until I died, I would be content. This is what it is to be happy, I think. I once heard someone say “the only joy you find on the summit of Mount Everest is the joy you bring with you” and I believe this to be true.

To illustrate that point, I deal with a ton of bullshit every day at work, every time I turn around I feel like I’m handing someone else hundreds of dollars, my personal time is precious and fleeting at best. Corporations and family members alike are bleeding me dry and I don’t sleep enough. When something comes up, my early morning routine and my finely tuned diet are the first things to go, which results in me feeling fat and unhealthy during times when I need the opposite to be true. I spend too much time in hotel rooms. I work long hours…

… you get the picture. This is called realism.

Even so, I’m so aware of the great things happening in my life that none of those complaints hold any real weight. I realize this is a choice I’ve made. Happiness is a choice, and reminding ourselves of the positive perspective that we’re allowed to have is a choice.

Realism & Optimism. Why do we think about these words in contrast? Why is the ‘realistic’ view such a negative way of looking at things when the great things we have in our lives can easily be identified as ‘real’?

I don’t think we need to be all pollyanna about everything, necessarily, but the notion that ‘where your treasure is, your heart will also be‘ becomes a pretty strong statement when people constantly dwell on the negative. Our treasure is our focus – so if we focus on the darkness, we can expect our hearts to go dark as well. It’s for this reason that goal-oriented people tend to be magnetic and inspiring.

The time for hibernation and doom-scrolling will be over soon.
We’ll be able to go outside and feel the sun again.

thief of joy

As much as I eschew clickbait, I do still see those absurd headlines attempting to conjure clicks and engagement. The one I happened across just before writing this entry was about how Taylor Swift is the cultural heir (for lack of a better term) to what Bruce Springsteen has cultivated over his decades of writing and performing. I don’t really care what that article says, but I know enough to be able to acknowledge that Springsteen can do no wrong in most older music fans’ eyes, and that Taylor Swift is a polarizing character because she’s seen to have not ‘paid her dues’ yet for some bonkers reason. Hence… the clicks.

Chock it up to chauvinism, generational baggage, or whatever you want in order to justify the old guard’s disdain or distrust of Taylor Swift – but the fact is that this is not how all of this works. It’s not a royal bloodline in the monarchical sense – but proposing it might be a royal bloodline does serve to upset people who might not realize the bullshit factor in these types of comparisons.

Comparison. What a bitch.

Comparison is the thief of joy. It’s been said so many times that it’s almost meaningless when we hear it, but the distraction that comes with comparison can derail so much greatness. The amount of alcohol I’ve ingested, the amount of bad food I’ve eaten, and the amount of drugs I’ve done pale in comparison to the distraction I’ve put in my own way through being concerned with what other people are doing, and what successes other people are seeing from their efforts.

“This peformer is ___ years younger than me”
“That video has ___ more views than mine”
“That band has ___ more people at their shows than me”

… all of it distracts from what it truly important in my life – which is: am I engaging in my purpose?

None of that shit matters.

What I’m doing matters.
But… What I’m doing doesn’t matter to you – or at least it shouldn’t – partly; if not completely, because it brings about a sense of fear, and fear doesn’t live in the present moment… it lives in the future.

That brings about another thought which might seem to come from out of left field, but I think it relates. That is the potential role of A.I. in art and music as the future comes hurtling toward us.

It was recently put to me that with the advent of companies buying up the catalogued works of Bob Dylan, Dee Snider, and other song cafters of the 20th century and the growing ‘threat’ of A.I.’s presence in the arts are linked, and that these catalogues will be fed into A.I. machines for the purpose of creating more Bob Dylan (and others’) records long after the death of artists like him, and that “this is what we’ll be competing with in the future.”

I have to say that if this is remotely true, I won’t be competing.
It won’t be a competition.
If there’s a market for computer generated music, it’s likely going to be in genres of music that are inherently perfect. Recordings that have been engineered to a point of soulless perfection will be under threat of being undercut by machines that can do it faster and cheaper, and that don’t come with the flawed human elements of coping with addiction, trauma, stress, and all the other things that make art a reflection of humanity.

There will be no competition because there will be no comparison. If anything, it’s just as likely that value on human performances – flawed, imperfect performances – will increase, because it is real and relatable… and because as close as these things can get to being authentically human, humans still have a gut instinct that tells them when something is ingenuine, or outright bullshit.

If anything, my skills will be even more specialized as less people are actively doing them live and in-studio.

… there will be no comparison.
And my joy in performing my craft will stay intact.

best years

I’m not sue if it’s because I think a lot, or because I’m approaching what most people consider to be mid-life (though I’m planning on living a long & healthy life, the length of which I shouldn’t be half way through yet) but I lend a bit of thought to when a person might ‘peak.’

Even as I write this, that feels like damning language, but it’s fair to say that once you reach a certain age, you won’t be able to perform to the same level as you once could. Typically this notion is cast upon athletes, which is something I can consider myself now (though not professional by any measure) but as years go by it gets cast over musicians and performers; as well, not being able to sing or perform to the level they could in their ‘prime.’

It’s most startling in athletes though. The thought that someone’s athletic potential in a given sport could come & go before the age of 25 years old (and that’s generous in some sports) is a hard thing to hear for me – someone who is a staunch late-bloomer in a number of ways. To spend the latter 3/4 of a century in the shadow of a mountain you once climbed is a dangerous existence, fraught with high-risk decisions making, if one does not re-examine their sights and focus on a new goal. There are too many cliche examples to mention.

Suffice to say, I couldn’t be happier to have become the late-bloomer I am. Being in my 40s and taking my creative career more seriously than ever has it’s daunting moments, for sure, but it beats the shit out of burning out early. A few years ago, I decided that I’m not finished doing what I do, and quite honestly I’ve been writing my best and most important lyrics ever since, and playing, performing, and composing better than ever – and that’s not even and objective statement. I am more technically proficient and intentional than ever before.

I know that’s a mouthful – but the important part was that I decided to level-up. My history is one of massive and lengthy self-doubt and fear of success before I decided to clean up my act – but as one once so poignantly stated: “If one desires to climb the Ziggurat, one must take the first step.”

So the real question isn’t about the past at all.
The real question to ask is: Are your best years behind you?

Being a first round NHL draft pick at 19 years old, or being a self-medicated & socially lubricated songwriter navigating a local music scene in a medium-sized city is completely irrelevant at the age of 40 years old, because you can’t go back and change it no matter how you feel about it.

You can’t live there.
You can’t live there any more than you can live in the future where you’re a wild & unbridled success… you can picture both the future and the past, and use them to guide your decisions today, but you have to live here in the present.

Only fear can live in the past.
Only doubt can live in the future.
But success and potential, inspiration and discipline – those live here and now.

I can say definitively… My best years are in front of me.

Check out the new podcast I was recently interviewed for! Pillars of Creation is a new podcast dedicated to creators, by creators, for creators, and is definitely worth a like & a follow & a subscribe!

removing the toxins

There’s a pretty good chance you have toxic people in your life. People don’t talk about it much unless it’s particularly bad, but it’s one of a few unanimously shared struggles we have as social creatures. For some of us, we ARE toxic. Most toxic people don’t know it’s them; as after all, we are the protagonist in our own stories.

I’m not sure who gets to decide who’s toxic and who’s not.
The short answer is… I guess I get to. I am; after all, the protagonist in my story.
It doesn’t matter, I guess.

I’m not sure if it was just my experience, but for a while there, the ‘self-help memes’ (if there are such a thing) seemed to bring up thoughts of ‘removing toxic people from your life’ with notes of ‘you don’t need that kind of negativity’ which seemed to coincide with discussions of politics on the Evening News. I could be alone in my observation, or even misremembering – but I’m certain that a very select group of people were encouraging people to hold up the mirror and address our own toxic traits. It’s quite likely that sharing those memes is a toxic trait… I mean, those posts when shared are definitely FOR someone, and if that’s the case then it’s certainly passive-aggressive.

Okay, I’ll cut the shit and get to the point.

I have a particularly toxic person in my family. This person is a drug addict who is active in their addiction, she’s partnered with an addict who is active in his addiction, and she’s a blood relative, whom I’ve removed from my life in all the ways that make sense. If an emergency were to happen, I’d find out about it through familial channels… but that’s it. The holidays were spent without interaction with this person, and although people will ask me how she’s doing, I have no idea and no inclination to find out due to REAL events that actually happened this year.

Maybe I’m the toxic one? Nah… at best, I’m ‘also toxic’ but I doubt that’s the case. Anyway…

As an aside: I don’t hate addicts… I am one. I don’t think we should take away their rights, or lock them up, or deny them safe injection sites. I don’t think they’re a pariah – but I will say there are 2 very distinct ways of talking about these issues: (1) the ‘addicts are people, too’ approach that supports the idea of social services and counseling being made available, and (2) the ‘I live in an area fraught with drug problems, and my livelihood / personal safety / personal property are negatively affected by the presence of these people’ … and I’m happy to say that, YES, you can feel both ways at the same time. I regularly do. That’s a more nuanced conversation for another day, methinks.

Anyway, I don’t think I’m a toxic person, but I’m certain that I have toxic traits. My intolerance and lack of patience for this toxic person that I have ostensibly removed from my life is probably a toxic trait, but I’m willing to contend with that in favor of not allowing outside bullshit forces to permeate the sanctity of my home.

So as I type this up with one of my favorite jazz records serenading me in the background – The Sidewinder, by Lee Morgan, a man who was shot to death by his common law wife in 1972… which is an indicator that he probably had a couple toxic traits of his own.

We’re all out here doing our best.

Maybe contending with all of this is just what being a grown up is.
I guess I’m a fucking grown up.

ALSO: I was recently interviewed as a guest on a new podcast called Pillars of Creation. It was an honour and a really fun conversation. Giving them a like & a follow on their socials is worth it, I assure you. Check my conversation below.

the end of the year

The time of perennial celebration for the sake of tradition is finally coming to a close. Though it’s statistically ominous, we believe our livers will keep filtering toxins properly for a couple more days before we as a species, en masse, declare our intentions for clean living & regular exercise in the new year. Every gym and online subscription-based diet plan is currently throwing good money after bad in hopes of securing their income for another few months.

We’ve grown irritable toward our loved ones due to subsiding primarily on junk food for the past several days and we’re all loathing our return to work – except, of course, for the undercredited people who’ve been working in retail spaces and restaurants for the entire ‘vacation time’ that everyone else has been taking.

I don’t drink, and despite a few brief breaks from my regular eating program, am pretty regimented in the diet department. I can also say that I maintained my level of fitness apart from days that the gym was closed.

I don’t know what’s coming around the bend this year but I do know that if you truly believe that the coming year will be better than the previous one, you’ll ultimately be correct. This is based on mindset alone.

Me? My year was great. 2024 beat 2023 hands-down, and although 2023 wasn’t without its challenges, I can say that it surpassed 2022 if for no other reason than the notion that 2022 prepared me for 2023. So I have no doubt in my mind about 2025 because I refuse to live in a state of constant wallowing.

Don’t get me wrong – depression is a real thing, and I won’t take that away from you. I am not talking about depression. I am talking about the folks that aren’t necessarily depressed, but tend to dwell on the darker, bleaker sides of humanity, who spend time consuming dank garbage on social media, and who live with the constant, unwavering belief that we are living in the darkest timeline…

… because, if that’s what you focus on, it’s all you’ll see.

There are a few different religious texts that says that “the truth will be what convinces” which is often taken to mean that we will learn the truth and believe it… but what it actually means is: Whatever you are convinced is true, will be true.

So if you think you’ll never lose enough weight… or that Trump is going to destroy the working poor… or that your boss will overlook your abilities – then you’re destined to only see examples to support these things. However – If you believe you can run your first marathon in 2025… or that you’ll see personal growth and success in your job… or that things will improve economically or socially in your region – then you’ll see examples of that.

This is why I tend to (silently) take issue with the notion of people “speaking their truth” when their truth tends to be more of a questionably formed opinion passed off as fact… because we have to be good to each other, and build each other up… rather than tell each other how it is all the time.

So – whatever kind of New Year you choose to have, I hope good fortune visits you beyond what you thought possible.

thanks a lot

This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving, a holiday that is a mixed bag of emotion for most people, particularly Indigenous folks. I won’t speak to that in great detail other than to say that I acknowledge their grievances against the Europeans that horned in on this land several hundred years ago, though I am grateful to be here, personally.

It’s also a hard time for families, and as someone who has chosen not to maintain contact with a sibling, I understand that from some people’s perspective I am part of the problem. I don’t hold it against anyone if they’re upset with me, and I hope they realize that my job as a parent and the head of my own household, is to stop the bullshit at my front door, and provide a safe environment to grow and rest. I’ve done that, and will continue to do so.

Maybe you get it.

Maybe you don’t get it – Maybe you are the ostracized one, frustrated with your family’s lack of empathy, or sympathy. Chances are pretty good that if you’re reading this, you’re ultimately doing okay, since accessing blogs takes a certain amount of privilege. Maybe you’ve had Thanksgiving dinner at the Herb Jamieson before, or perhaps you’re looking forward to a Big Mac Combo in a parking lot by yourself on this festive weekend.

I’ve done both. I promise you, it’s a temporary vocation.

One thing I can tell you is that I’m grateful for the shit-heeled experiences I’ve had – many of which I caused, some of which were done to me. I’ve been extended some of the greatest and most meaningful hospitality when my life was scraping the bottom.

I’m also grateful that I can provide this home to the people in it, and the people who visit it. I remember what it’s like to not have these things available to me. So, to the people who’ve reached out to me when I needed it more than they possibly could have known, I sincerely hope you are repaid 10x over.

And to those who I can help, I hope I do it justice.
I hope I don’t miss the opportunity.

… PS: If you can have thanksgiving without harming any animals out of some misplaced sense of tradition, or due to a social contract, please do.

receiving

I’ve recently returned from a trip with my family. My immediate family… we cast off the shackles of conventional work, boarded an international flight bound for Denver, Colorado and spent the better part of 4 days taking in a heaping helping of life affirming adventures.

The notion for the trip started with my daughter wanting to attend a concert that way coming to town that; if we’d have gone ahead with it, would have been the very first time any of us bought a ticket for a single concert that crested the $1000 mark. None of us could justify it, even that artist’s biggest fan in the house wanted to spend her hard-earned part-time paycheck on such an extravagant outing. I told her “I bet we could get on an airplane and see someone cooler for less money” and as much as I lost that bet by a country mile, we forged ahead with reckless abandon.

We bought tickets to Tyler Childers in Boulder, as all of his Canadian dates were sold out – but an open-air Saturday night concert in Boulder, right up close to the Rocky Mountains sounded like a good plan. We made ourselves a long weekend of it, stayed in a hotel I never would have gotten for myself, and threw down on thrift-store shopping, great food, concert merch, car services, $7 lattes, and at the almost-last-minute, we decided to add another concert ticket to the tab, and got to see Sierra Farrell at The Mission Ballroom while we were in Colorado as well.

I had a great trip with my gals, and my daughter is still beaming through the exhaustion from this whirlwind adventure. It was 100% worth it.

The part that I couldn’t put an earthly value on, was completely losing myself in the most life-affirming way. The type of show that would make a weaker musician give up entirely made me want to play more, write more, tour more, and push my own boundaries more than ever.

My soul was fed and nurtured by both of those incredible artists and I’ve never been more sure of what I’m supposed to be doing… and make no mistake – I was really sure before.

I was given a gift in my attendance of these shows that I won’t soon forget. I am eternally grateful.