"What a Long Strange Trip it's Been" Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia

Wadd'ya do when everything goes right? I mean, I've had success in my 58 years, some of it incredibly gratifying and meaningful. And I have had abysmal failures both unsolicited and of my own creation. And I certainly understand that success today may pale or shine in relation to what came years before, but that seems to be an incidental viewpoint with no teeth. Did I say no teeth?

Let's just run down a little of the current mode of operation so we can pick it apart, dissect the individual pieces and melt them down to their inevitable greasy little puddles for clean up on aisle 9:

• I now have a full set of teeth, thanks to a Dentist without an agenda or the need to own property in the Bahamas that was paid for exclusively from the work he did for me. This is thanks to a new set of upper and lower partial plates that hook and anchor to the good teeth he left in. I can smile, kiss, eat, sing and play the trumpet. OMG, I cannot stress the power of this upgrade.
• After spending several years not believing I could maintain a proper diet due to my Diabetes that was diagnosed 3 years ago because it was too hard to do on my schedule, and watching my blood sugar remain intolerably high without regard for the two types of insulin and three times a day pills I was taking I have found the secret to the Diabetes Magic Treasure Cave—I am now doing exactly what my doctor told me to do three years ago. I have trained myself to a 1.5 mile brisk walk with my dog, Dizzy (he is now also very happy, and his friggin' sugar is never an issue!) followed by a 2.5 mile bike ride that is pretty much all out the whole way. And, I eat the right stuff, all day every day. And yes, wait for it...I have lost 35 pounds over the last 6 months and my blood sugar is within very manageable levels for the first time since I was diagnosed and going down. Sumbitch, i just didn't believe I could do it. Next stop, 40 more pounds off.
• My band, The Joe Willy Band is having a Renaissance of sorts. After recording our own CD 4 years ago, which was a major task for us, consuming a year and a half and about $5K, our original bass man left us due to his declining health and his train wreck, trailer trash wife. Now, new CD in hand, and no bass player, we were dead in the water. We had struggled for several years with this original bass man as he became unable to play to our level, and stopped playing gigs almost completely while the recording was going on. Now, we could not play at all. What ensued was a miserable two years and a string of no less than 4 bass players (actually more like a dozen, when you count all the auditions) who ran the gamut from falling apart on stage the first time we played a live gig after 3 months of rehearsal to an inability to remember anything like a complete arrangement to a guy who had no drivers license but swore he would get to rehearsals and the gigs, except for the first, second or third one, and finally to a really tragic event when we really thought we had the right guy who fit in, was experienced and played killer bass and then died in his home of a massive coronary two weeks after we hired him. FUCK! What do we have to do. Then we tried a guy who actually turned out to be a better guitar player than bass player, and he switched off with our lead man who also plays the best bass for 100 miles in any direction, and that worked until the new guy just went off the deep end and would tune his guitar in the middle of a song. Enter one Alan Nickerson from Chicago, Illinois. the man can play the bass. He can sing. He has a personality that is so cool to the touch, and fits in with all of us. He is a consummate pro, who has played everything, everywhere. I am in love with Alan. He and I make a rhythm section like a block of granite. We rock. As a result, The Joe Willy Band has gone through a transformation. We can now play nearly any material we want. We have added back our old second guitar player who is a near perfect complement to our primary guitar man, and who can play his balls off. We have freshened our song list with over 20 new songs that have made us far more up temp, contemporary and bitching. No, really , we now have a solid concrete hold on some key classic and southern rock, R&B and Blues hits that have redefined who we are. And we play our own original material with all new fire and life that feeds our need for speed! And of course the result is, we have been playing gigs pretty much non-stop since last summer. We have a completely new PA system. All of us have upgraded our personal equipment inventory. Okay, we would have done that anyway, it is the working musicians mantra—I need more and cooler equipment. So now we are on the verge of our most visible gig yet. We are playing two sets on the main stage of a very large outdoor BBQ event called "Pigfest" (yeah, I know, a lot of pigs, chickens and cows will give their lives for this, but I am not a vegetarian so what am I supposed to do?) this weekend and there will be upwards of 500 to 1000 people milling around and drinking beer when we play. We are STOKED!
• And then there is Debbie. I have reported on this phenomenon in an earlier post so I will not repeat the gush, I will just say no change has been more dramatic or exciting than my redheaded wonder. Everything in my life has been affected, and I am embarking on a whole new outlook and vision of me and the future. Kowabunga.

So as I reflect on all this crazy good news, I know there are still areas of my life that need change or at least some modification. My job is becoming untenable and I will probably be forced into a corner from which I can only emerge by leaving where I work in the next few months, and my roommate just fucked me by moving out with no notice and leaving me a trashed bedroom and bathroom. But I have to report, that due to all of the above, nothing will faze me. I will find a roommate, and I will find the right work to pay the bills and give me some measure of fulfillment. And I will let nothing deter me from my girl, my health and my music. So lift a glass, and toast the days we spend in the sun, and see to it that you are working on your behalf at all times for it is unlikely anyone else will. And for god's sake, heed the words of Hunter S. Thompson when he said, "It still isn't weird enough for me," and Robert Hunter with Jerry Garcia when he said, "What a long strange trip it's been." Ciao, babies, now go make your world a better place, ya' knucklehead!

Ain't Life Grand?

After 15 years of singleness, I am suddenly fraught with date. As you might imagine, I am a little apprehensive, though I am also excited and overjoyed. As a single man, I have developed a lifestyle based around my work as an Internet car salesman for a large Ford and Lincoln dealership and a musician working in a classic rock/blues band for over 20 years, along with side gigs in acoustic settings. I do pretty much what I want, when I want, within the confines of available time and funding.

My typical day is up at 6:30am, shower and walk the dog and slide into work at 8:15am only fifteen minutes late. Car salesman have leeway as we are essentially subcontractors. Work my leads and greet customers until lunch, hit the local pubs with my bud Dr. Love for lunch, and back on the sales lot until either 5pm or 7:30pm. Of course for that moronic asshole who can't find our dealership, and who leaves an hour for what is at least a two hour drive to get here, I am often here as late as 9 or 10pm closing a deal and delivering the moron-obile.

Once home, the dog gets walked 1.5 miles which is the absolute bomb to him. He lives to take his walk. On those days when he gets two of these, I am certain he would make me dinner, clean the house and wash my car, if he only had hands and more brains than it takes to chase a cat. He loves him some walking.

Following that, I get a 2.5 mile bike ride on my Trek at high speed. These two exercise habits are changing my life. I have lost 15-20 pounds, my joints work better, and my sugar levels are more controllable. I am working on increasing these habits in frequency and distance.

Following all of that whirlwind of activity, I generally have an hour or two to relax, faceplant on the computer, write song lyrics, practice guitar or trumpet, watch TV or do chores. It is up to you to discover which of these I do happily and which I do monthly.

Throw into this exciting mix a band rehearsal on Tuesday evenings for about 3-3.5 hours. Highlight of the week. Bond with the boys, drink a little beer, make cool loud noises and yak about all things rock and roll, blues and bad, all the while examining each others newest musical toys and plotting to get more. All musicians are ate up with more and better and older and cooler and expensive musical equipment. The purchase of a new Sennheiser microphone can elicit an hour or more discussion of the relative coolness and sound quality or a deep discussion of what favorite baddass famous guy uses one just like it.

And then, there are the gigs. At 58, a drummer needs approximately a day and a half to load his equipment in his truck, drive to the gig and set it up. Alright, I exaggerate a little. But seriously, if we have a gig at 8pm, I will often leave the house at 4pm to get there and take 1.5 to 2 hours to get set up, mics set and my drum mixer and monitor system ready so I can help our sound man set the main system up and have maybe 15-20 minutes before we play to relax and go over the set lists.

When we are done, It is at least an hour for me to pack and roll out. So for that 8-12 gig, I will spend as much as 9-10 hours start to finish. Daunting and daring, though I love it and have worked since I was 14 to be able to do exactly what I do, and I am pretty damned good at it.

Throughout the week, I also do all of our promotion work for the band, calling club owners for gigs, writing set lists, designing facebook and web site notices of our dates and downloading music and lyrics for new material. It is a lot of work to be a shiftless musician. But I love it.

So, what does all this have to do with dating? I think we both know the answer...I have built an elaborate hamster maze to keep me busy and avoid the broken hearts, the costly dinner bills, the dress up clothes and the time spent wooing any particular woman. I have turned chicken since my divorce. Well, technically since my divorce and ensuing engagement after divorce that blew up in my face and bitch slapped me into the realm of the woman less. I just didn't want to go there.

Couple all that with some health issues that made me feel less than available, and you have the basic idea. Over the last 10 years my teeth deteriorated significantly, some were broken, and many were just gone. It was a mess. Okay, now you have a good picture of my status in life: sleep, shower, eat, sell, play, practice, play, drink and start over. My blog pretty much reflects this if you walk through it over the last couple of years.

Now we move to this past Spring, when an exceptionally pretty woman who was my high school sweetheart and steady shows up on Facebook. After connecting there this past year, and playing the "hey, what up girl, I am absolutely NOT trying to snoop your Facebook pages after all these years and find out if you are still that fabulous girl with the red hair I couldn't take my eyes off in school and what are you doing now and are you still married and OMG let me tell you all the cool stuff I have been doing for the 35 years since we dated and hey, do you....blah, blah, blah," game. Yeah, right. I just played it low key because, well, I was a bachelor, right?

Now from this past spring, we move to this past fall, and the Prezident Contest gets underway with a partisan war that makes the Blitzkrieg seem like a Sunday picnic, and I am all in! I am ate up with the body politic, and as it turns out, so is my long lost steady. So now, we are passing facenotes back and forth on the Prez Contest just like in 11th grade English class because she is every bit the radical, blood spurting, tree hugging, right brain social conscious liberal that I am and we have a common cause! Right on, baby, Black Power, plug in, drop out and get high! And still, it is not about...the date.

Next up, I get a note that she will be in town to see her mom, and is my band playing anywhere, and hell yeah, Goddamn right we are! So now, there looms a face to face meeting. And one that she initaited. What does this purport? Is it just to show me her cool young lover and flash those blue/green eyes at me and run? And I now have to face the bachelor reality of the situation, and what am I hoping will happen. I decide it is best just to hope it will be swell to see this woman who I cared for greatly at the tender age of 16.

The gig comes, and she does not disappoint. She is absolutely lovely. She shows up during our second set, alone, and we spend every break together and time after the gig is over to laugh and catch up and wonder at the ridiculous possibility (unspoken, of course) that there is still something to fish out of the box of forgotten memories and dust off. I very hesitantly kiss her good night with broken teeth and watch her drive off into the night.

Now my life schedule and all the things I take for granted as a bachelor come into question. Aren't I free of living someone else's schedule? Don't I appreciate never having to check with anyone about what I might do with my free time? Do I clean the kitchen today or next week? But even I am beginning to sense a dramatic shift in my onliness. I just don't have a clue where this is going but I cannot stop thinking about her, and as Gamble Rogers used to say, "I am ate up with the dumbass," because I remain clueless to my true desires.

But here is where the momentum builds. A local dentist had worked up a plan to fix my teeth, and though it is expensive, I have the money available in my 401K, but I cannot get to it unless the work is already done, and the dentist wants to be paid, of course, before he does the work. So for months, I had just tabled the whole thing. But now, in the short span of 3 sets of The Joe Willy Band, and the vision of pretty eyes that haven't changed a bit in all these years, I am NOT letting this tank. I contact a family member the very day after we saw each other at our gig, and threaten them with terrible acts of sorricide (yeah, I got you, go look it up) and demand they provide the upfront money to fix my upfront teeth. And they say....wait for it....YES! now I am cooking.

Weeks later, I am sporting a new upper and lower partial that fixes my mouth and my smile. I am now fraught with kiss desire, and I have a clear idea of who I want to start with. You see, since the face to face, I have been unable to get this woman out of my mind. A simple evening of reliving some old times and a small kiss, and the damn wagon is now gaining speed and rolling down the mountainside without any help from me. I am quickly coming to the conclusion that it isn't just about having been celibate and possibly idiotic for all these years, I am finding feelings for her I did not anticipate feeling. Is that possible? Is it recommended? Is it juvenile...wait, I am a man, so it is by definition juvenile, but is it real?

So I clearly don't know what to do, and I do very little as a result. I send a few faint messages and facenotes, and get very little response. I can only imagine I was dreaming or delusional, or there was LSD in my morning coffee and I am in fact an idiot. But friends, my saga does not end here. There is more to this story.

Weeks after our encounter and my mewling inaction, with new teeth in mouth and balls in hand, I send a note. A real note. A note a man would send, if he had someone with a gun to his head: "Can't imagine anyone as attractive as you doesn't have anyone in your life, but if you do not, I want to take you to dinner. Of course if there is someone, I will understand and only be pissed, or heartbroken, or pissed and heartbroken. Just kidding. Yours truly, me." Now I have done it. I have actually asked her out for a, no...no...I can't say it.....A DATE! WTF do I do now?

I get one line back..."No need to be pissed, I would love to go." And with this, I have learned what every man should be taught from an early age and have written on his bathroom mirror so he can see it each morning when he shaves — "just ask her, stupid."

The details of the date are mine and mine alone, along with my date, but I will tell you this; that movie every Christmas, "it's a Wonderful Life" has nothing on me. Jam up and jelly tight, she is a fabulous woman, gorgeous in every way and we are going out again. And if that pretty girl reads this, she must know that regardless of what happens, she has changed my life for the better. Forever. Ain't life grand?

Hearts and Minds

They say that the friends you make in High School are some of the strongest bonds you will ever make. I don't know who "they" are, but I believe this, and it makes sense. And besides, I have never been one to dwell on "them" and become overly concerned with exactitude. Life is a great big gray area with large oceans of uncertainty.

The people you went to High School with are the people you learn to drink with, kiss with (okay, so maybe I kissed a few girls in grade school, but I wasn't any good at it, and usually got slapped), learn with and begin all the really important adult activities to come later like group dynamics, management, competition, sex and sucking up. These are your peeps.

The interesting thing about it is that there are plenty of people who go off after High School and do things or become something that you could never have predicted in school. But for the most part, those you were really close to will still be there for you when you meet up years later, and the initial bond will carry you through to a re-birth of that heady, fun and exciting time when you skipped class together and chased pretty girls with the dawning recognition of what you wanted to do to them, without the courage or knowledge of how to make that happen.

But the special thing that can really stun you, is when you find someone who you dated, went steady with, or just knew you were deeply in love with at the time, and circumstances allow you to re-open that door. Bada-Bing! The sheer newness/oldness of it can really slap you and leave you staring into the headlights like a deer in the road. But then the car swerves and misses, and you are left standing in the clear light with the realization that those feelings have returned, all the power of that young love gets lit up, and is fueled by all the things you have learned as an adult. All of the pain of your adult relationships gone bad, along with all the exquisite sweetness of those that brought you joy give you a view that makes the whole situation seem like a dream on a roller coaster ride. And for me, it brought a huge smile to my face, and the complete knowledge that a new fire had just arisen from the coals of one I had no idea still smouldered. I was stoked.

I find it crazy stupid ironic that the single greatest thing we all seem to agree on is an intangible that resides purely in the mind, attributed to the heart and essential to true happiness–the power of love. For all you Christians out there, please refrain from telling me your religion is more important than family, love and the people you care for. You are fooling yourself and you appear silly to the rest of us. Don't get me wrong, I respect your beliefs, I just don't buy that it is the most important thing in your life. if it is, you are missing out, bigtime.

The power of love is the thing we all say, that when you go, is the only thing that matters. The people you love and those relationships are all that matters yet we cannot touch it or see it, and it is like the flame in a campfire that can warm and comfort or bring painful burns. Huey Lewis had it right:

It don't take money and it don't take fame

Don't need no credit card to ride this train
Tougher than diamonds and stronger than steel
You won't feel nothin' till you feel
You feel the power, just the power of love
That's the power, that's the power of love

This power is why we move through our days making money, closing deals, eating lunch, buying our groceries and listening to music. We are using life to find the things which build a strong heart and comfort the mind. If we could only recognize that this is the thing which drives and enriches us, we could find so much more value in all the mundane things we do to get by every day. But society and the living needs always consume our time, and our desire for love and friendship turn to dreams. Sad but true daily, everywhere.   So when that second chance comes to you, and a reconnection stuns you into clarity, nothing can be allowed to deter you. Seek the power of love with all your being, and breath it in with great gusto. Let it fill your mind and strengthen your heart for it will be the thing you will miss the most when your time comes. Drink it in now and never look back.

I have to add another note on the NRA now that Mr. LaPierre made his speech. A personal note to Wayne LaPierre, CEO and Executive Vice President of the NRA—Mr. LaPierre, you are a clown, a shill, a stooge for the gun and munitions manufacturers in this country, and a pathetic example of a man who would sell his soul, and the lives of young children for profit and power. Your time is over. Your words remind me of those of the Tobacco executives that wanted us to believe cigarettes didn't cause cancer, or the White Supremacists and Politicians that wanted us to believe Afro-Americans did not deserve equality prior to the Civil Rights Act of 1964, or German citizens who did not want to believe Hitler meant to exterminate the Jews in WWII. Your words are anathema to any caring, intelligent adult who values the lives of school children, teachers and everyday people everywhere. And proposing more weapons on our streets and in our schools as the answer makes you just one more dangerous cowboy with no brains and no morals. The boys back at all the gun manufacturers must be sitting back throwing a few cold beers down and toasting you with the thought that "we gonna' sell a bunch'a guns now so everbody can feel safe!" You are a whore of the worst variety, and it is time we extricate you from our Political system. You are just one more rich bastard who will say and do anything to protect his little fiefdom and pile of money. Good people everywhere need to band together, call their legislators, and see to it that you and the NRA do not decide our public policy.

Guns, Murder and Madness

Somebody posted a moronic statement on Facebook yesterday referring to Timothy McVeigh, and that because he killed 168 people without a gun, "Murderers will murder with or without a gun." This came from somewhere called "Let's Make Fun of Liberals." I found this disgusting and abhorent. This logic is the same as saying that because hundreds of people drowned in a terrible accident on a ferry that sank, we should not co...

nsider having speed limits on our highways because "accidents will happen with or without a car." It is a specious argument that evades the senseless conditions that allowed the terrible events that led to these tragic deaths. The mental health of young boys with no support, coupled with lax gun laws that allow the sale of semi-automatic assault rifles with 100 round magazines and a mother who failed to ensure the guns were not available to her son. I am sickened by anyone that can argue in favor of these assault guns and large magazines when these massacres continue to plague us, and have now taken the lives of 20 children and the 7 adults trying to save them. The vast majority of Police forces Nationwide favor banning these assault weapons and their mega-magazines because they are first on the scene to deal with the carnage. If you hunt or want protection, handguns and single shot rifles are NOT in contention. The first ammedment provides for free speech, but we wisely do not allow people to yell fire in crowded public places for fear of the terrible consequences. The same is true of our second ammendment rights to bear arms. Keep your registered and legal handguns and hunting rifles, and let's ban the kind of gun that allows someone to kill 27 people in under five minutes, shooting some of them over ten times. NOTHING about the second ammendment sought to allow these types of weapons. And then let's have a discussion about locking guns in the home. And let's research the possibility of providing senors in the handles or triggers that can be keyed ONLY to the person that passed the waiting period and background check so only they can release the safety and fire the weapon. And then let's have a discussion about how we deal with a generation of violent video game burn-outs who are mentally and socially damaged to the point that this kind of grisly and sickening event can happen. And I hope I never see anyone post something about this tragic event that comes from something called "Let's Make Fun of Liberals" again. I don't find anything about any of this "fun." And if calling someone who wants to find a way to minimize or end the slaughter of little children a liberal, then fucking count me in, and be assured I will stand against the NRA and their "profit over children's lives" agenda. The America I believe in is better than this. And using the same old "liberal vs conservative" gun bullshit argument in the wake of this massacre of children just makes me want to puke. I refuse to take the same old gun rights bullshit from people too invested in firepower to see the death and carnage it creates.

Let's Talk Taxes

Seems to me, we need an overhaul of our tax code and strategy, not just a bump for the millionaire rate. Taxes, are just like the kitty in a poker game. Or they should be. You wanna play, you gotta pay. And it makes no difference what pile or lack thereof you are sitting on, you pay the kitty to participate in the possibility of winning.
Fair and simple taxation should be the order of the day. Certainly a progressive tax, in which the rate creeps up based on your overall earnings is the appropropriate method with the wide disparity of income levels we have in our cash rich country.

But I also agree that all, or nearly all should have a level they pay so no one can claim we simply let people off the hook. It seems to me that only those at the extreme low point on the income curve would escape paying anything. In my mind, this is somewhere between $5K and $10K annually. You, or your economist can pick the specific income point, beloe which you pay no taxes.

From there, we have a large number of hard working citizens, part timers, seniors, and unskilled labor that sits below $20K annually, but who can all pay something. It would seem an easy plan to come up with a flat pay scheme that would limit the pain, but ensure they pay into our collective American dream. Fix their tax at $200, or create a small scale, $8K, 12K, 15K 20K levels with $100, $200, $350, $500 flat payments. We should ensure they all pay something, but that it is fair and does not punish them as the low earners. Again, this would seem to be an easy task.

Over $20K annually, I think this becomes very easy. But first, we must fix the deduction merry-go-round and investment/capital gains fantasy. Two scenarios: 1) you are a bus driver in a major metropolitan area, working 48 hours per week, and barely breaking $50K annually. Your tax rate is 25%. 2) you are an investment banker who makes $250K salary plus commission and bonus income. As you have the ability to do so, you generally have $500K invested in the stock market, and you realize relatively large capital gains on this money each year. Your base tax rate is 34%, but you only pay 15% on your investment and capital gains income. The current rich guy/investor/congressman viewpoint is that if we don't give the investment banker a break on his investments, he and his other wealthy buddies won't invest and our economy will shrink. If this logic is correct, the bus driver wouldn't waste his time working his ass off only to make $50K a year, and our transportation system will come to a halt. Neither is true.

First, tell me where else will the banker find the kind of returns on his money that the stock market or other investment opportunites offer him? Putting it in his savings account at the bank? Buying baseball cards? No. if you look at the kind of money that can be made with large investment ability, even if his capital gains tax rate went up, it would still be the smart thing to invest it. And for those who want to shriek and wail that the money he used for his investment has already been taxed, how can we think of taxing it again at the same rate? Wow. Income from rich guy job, taxed at 34%, portion of income spent on stocks, which bring profit (income) from investment which is NEW INCOME, and should be taxed. Please, can we just for the moment deal in reality, and not a parallel universe where those with means make up new definitions for stuff we thought we knew about?

Now, what we are talking about is what is the goal of our tax system? Is it to provide a place for the fairly rich to get richer? Is it a big card game like Wall Street where those that play the game properly can make gazillion's of dollars because they had bazillions to start with? Is it an engine that can be aimed at varying industries or other endeavors to make them work better and oil the wheels of progress and profit to make things work better? No. No, and no.

Our tax system is a tangible payment that we as Americans make to ensure national security, a working infrastructure, court system, and political administration to run the workings of our government and ensure order. Once we started diddling the deductions, sheltering the income and providing tax dodges that were oh so legal, but maybe a little shady, we handed over our economy to the wealthy, powerful and politically connected. Do you really believe anyone making under $30K a year had a lot of pull with getting our current plethora of deductions and tax incentives implemented to cover his corporate jet? We must demand an end to this greedy profit grab which has severely damaged the middle class. And how do we do that, you ask?

I'll tell you how. We eliminate, that's right, eliminate — "that starts with T and that rhymes with P and that spells trouble," ALL DEDUCTONS save the mortgage on your primary home, and charitable deductions. And we put limits on those. Again, I hear the shrieking and gnashing of teeth that this will stall business development and profits and make us communist and the world will end and....bullshit! This will return the tax code to what it should be—a direct method of funding our government, shared by all but the lowest income individuals.

Now here is the good news — I refer you back to my comments, "I think this becomes very easy." Over $20K in income, without all the loopholes and tax havens and corporate Cayman Island Investment Schemes, we can now make three simple tax rate categories, and lower the overall percentage rate for each from what we pay now. If it were up to me, I would only lower it a little to bring the broadest amount of income, aimed at increasing it say, 20-25% over what it is now from these levels. So, again, get your own economist to work these percentages for you, but mine would be 15%, for income of $20K to $250K, 20% for $250K to $1M, and 25% over $1 Million. And remember, this would include all investment and capital gains income because it is, after all, income!

Now run along, get your friendly local economist, and work the numbers. This plan could work, and you could file your taxes on a post card at year end. And, it would have the lovely effect of raising tax revenues while lowering the percentages paid. Right now, we have these falsely inflated percentages, but if you are rich, your actual percentage is much lower than your tax bracket because you have all kinds of delicious ways of sheltering income. You know, so it will trickle down to us peons. What a load of shit. The American system of Capitalism is built on people having the freedom to build a business out of nothing, and with their hands and minds making it profiatble. We have for too long given in to the investment banker and wall street financier that what we really need is to float a few IPO's, grab some investment income, borrow some venture capital, sheiled oursleves from taxes, and watch our portfolio grow even if we have a mediocre product and lousy service. Greed is killing us, and if you wonder where that great American manufacturing engine went, it went up in smoke from the fire that companies like Bain Capitol built under American companies to squeeze profit from them as they disappeared. Our tax code rewards this kind of behavior, and it has to stop. We must learn again to compete on excellance, and conduct business with integrity.

In my mind, this is what Mr. Obama should be promoting; instead of leaving himself open to right-wing criticism that he is "re-distributing" wealth and stifling new business and jobs by raising taxes on the job makers. My plan doesn’t re-distribute" wealth, it cleans and simplifies the tax code for us all. How long have we heard about Romney's complaint from Republicans that "47% of Americans don't pay any tax?" Well let's fix that. Let's ensure that with the exception of under $5K in income, all Americans pay their fair share, and this includes those over $1 Million without sheltering them from the full tax that the rest of us are burdened with.

Isn't it better if we all pay, and all our tax brackets come down, the code is simplified, and we raise more income to fix our economy, our infrastructure, Medicare, Social Security and the deficit?

Now, lest you think I am naive, it will take the people of this great country, big and small, rich and poor, well known and obscure, to give this plan a chance of seeing the light of day. What I would like are concrete ideas of how to achieve this. Leave me a post and offer your thoughts.

Let the Mystery monkey go Free!

The monkey says it all. I have previously referred to the fact that none of us, myself included, are very far removed from our Simian roots. I recognize this fact every time I see one of those commercials where the guy is surrounded by chimps in a business office and they take nothing seriously. Or if I watch one of those "Trunk Monkey" videos on Youtube which leave me in tears from laughing so hard. But of course, that proves without doubt that I am laughing so hard because I identify with the monkeys, not the actors in the video. just recognizing this frees me to embrace the animal in me, and of course makes me want a banana or to go pee in the corner.

Now when I compare these revelations to the recent Political storm we just barely lived through, I feel much more like crying than laughing. It is all to clear that all of our so called "civilized" machinations are simply the same sentiments as those apes in "2001: A Space Odyssey" when they find the ability to pick up clubs and sticks and beat the other tribe silly, thereby winning the day.

Now don't misunderstand—I would have been happy to mimic this activity in the heat of the electorate battle and club people like Rush Limbaugh, Paul Ryan, Mitt Romney, Michelle bachman and Anne Coulter. It is just that on reflection I see clearly that our system is no better than a bunch of mountain gorillas going at it to establish the pecking order. Once the dust settles, we pretty much revert to the "every mammal to them selves" stance for four more years and hope somebody takes care of the details while we go back to scrounging food, liquor, tail and a new iPhone. You know, seeking more monkey sex.

And yes, for those of you who have weathered my high and mighty diatribes on facebook, where I stylistically and with great literary poise eviscerate my Republican counterparts, and generally flip a finger at all opinions I deem narrow minded and moronic, I am certainly a fundamental part of the problem, and enjoy fresh fruit and maniacal laughing as much as the next ape. But in my defense, I also tried very hard to make logical, studied arguments that I had researched so I could back my opinions up with real facts and figures so I could attain Alpha male status in the facebook tribal order. Well, at least in my local tribe.

But now, the battle has been won, and my choice was victorius. I can now hope and pray for peace and prosperity to return, so that I can once again afford to subscribe to Modern Drummer Magazine, and buy new shoes whenever I want. And as I now turn to pushing the powers to be to revamp our tax system so it is able to be understood by mere mortals, built to favor none and be affordable to all, I can't help but offer up a little chuckle, completely out of character for a wild mountain ape who would be beating his chest and shrieking loudly, that America has come to a point in it's demographics that allowed it to re-elect a Black man–a Harvard graduated, family guy soft talking kind of Black man with a distinctly suspicious middle name to the highest office in the land when the white country club types can't even figure out how he got there in the first place! I feel certain that the day after voting day in 2008 there was a hue and cry from gated communities and golf courses everywhere that sounded very close to..."Are you fucking kidding me?" And now, these same people believed in their narrow little white, upper and way-the-fuck upper ruling class homes across the land that the Mittster could not possibly lose to this guy that the Donald claimed was not an American citizen, did not actually graduate from Harvard and was intent on converting us all to the Socialistic Muslim wing of the Communist Atheist party. So yesterday, there once again rose a chorus of sound that might have been..."You have got ot be kidding me! Get my broker on the phone, NOW!" Ain't democracy grand? Now I am off to scratch my nuts in public, and spit fruit seeds on the sidewalk while cackling like Cheetah as I sneak through the night to find the place where they are keeping the hillsborough County Mystery monkey caged and free him to the Central Florida jungle once again!