Zello, or jello for the mind, is a free phone app that seems to have mostly blindor people with assorted disabilities on it. Normally, I wouldn’t comment about such a thing as this, because, in truth, sometimes it is a really good thing for people with special needs to have a forum where theycan discuss their needs with one another. However, in this case, Zello would not be such a place. If this is what blind people consider a fun place to go and talk with one another, then, I am truly ashamed to count myself as one of them. If a so-called “normal” person were to go on this system, they would be horrified to see how many of the stereotypes about blind people seem to be true. When I first went into the main “lobby” group, I heard grown adults making an assortment of noises with their mouths and other body parts, just like little kids do, just because they think it is funny. I also heard the obligatory cursing and swearing, calling women sluts and whores, and, of course, the “N” word was quite liberally used, to anyone, white, black, or whatever. However, don’t feel sorry for these people, because, they have plenty to do. As soon as their disability checks arrive, they can go out and get their next month’s supply of some “real good skunky shit” and then, with their food stamp cards, they can stock up on their muncy food. If they bucget well, they’ll also have some left over cash to order in, since they can’t cook, and they might even be able to get some beer. If they can’t afford it themselves, they’ll probably go find some one to buy what they need for them, and even bring it to their government subsidized housing which is minimally cleaned by a home-care attendant for them. Is this what the song “The Good Life” is all about? I wonder how many of these MF…in’ N…..s have listened to Sinatra’s version of that song on their ghetto-blasters?
Today, April 20th, is the da that all of the Hippies, potheads, stoners, or whatever you want to call them, live for. It is the unofficial National Marijuana Day-the day that people, including yours truly, celebrate, in the hope that marijuana, or pot, weed, dope, smoke, or whatever name tag people want to put on it, celebrate by partaking of this herb, because…well, I forgot exactly why, but that’s all right…that’s cool anyway, man. People have been wondering about the name of “420.” The most obvious reason is the date, but then some other smart irreverent people say that it’s because of a California police code for pot. Some stoners have claimed that way back in 1971, man, five pot-smokin’ dudesfrom a California high school met at 4-20 p.m. outside of their school, and their mission, which they did decide to accept, Mr. Phelps, was to rescue some Coast Guard member’s pot patch, which he was no longer able to cultivate, for some vague unknown reasons. Other more civilized Europeans claim that 4-20 in the afternoon is the appropriate time for tea drinkers to meet at the Amsterdam marijuana bars.
ersonally, I never had tea at one of those places; I opted for a good tall chilled Hinekin to go along with my pot or hash that I chose from the extensive menu that was presented to me. In truth, there were some evenings at these places, when you could just inhale (unlike former President Clinton) and get incredibly stoned, or in the stoner vernacular, “fucked um, man.” I would also question this explanation, because so few potheads are even awake enough to go out to some place at 4-20 in the afternoon, unless it’s to sell some pot to someone, and, in that case, why go to a bar where they’ve got the legal license to sell it there. Oh well, I’ll just have to roll another one and smoke it, and maybe, man, I’ll figure this one out. I’ll have to toke up in honor of Levon Helm from the Band, a true stoner in his own right, who finally succumbed after a long battle with throat cancer, on April 19th. I guess that he finally had his last waltz.
Today marks the passing of Dick Clark, the world’s oldest teenager. In 1952, he started qa show on WFIL tv in Philadelphia, called “Bandstand,” and in 1957, he took the show national on ABC and called it “American Bandstand.” The show was the first real place for teens to have their music exclusively on a tv show, and it helped propell such artists as Chubby Checker, Deon And the Bellmonts, Little anthony And The Imperials, (just to name a few) to national and even international acclaim. It was one of the first shows to have integrated couples dancing, another very big deal at the time. Dick Clark kept the show based in Philadelphia until 1965, when he moved it out to Los angeles, where, he also branched out into other aspects of tv, such as hosting game shows and producing other tv shows. Clark hosted the dropping of the ball from Times Square from 1971-2012, only missing one New Year’s eve in 2005, shortly after he suffered a stroke. The next year, he returned to host the show, although it was incredibly difficult for him to speak. He stated that he returned in order to show other stroke victims that they could still continue with their lives, doing what they had done in the past, and continuing to still do what they wanted. He was truly an inspiration, and you could see the love that he had for his fans and admirerers, as well as their love for them. When the ball drops in 2013, people will perhaps cry tears of joy as they usher in the new year, but, there will be a touch of sadness as well, as we celebrate the first New Year’s Eve without the world’s oldest teenager. _HERE”S _TO _YOU, _DICK _CLARK! _CHEERS!
These past few days have given us (in the New York metropolitan area) a taste of what the summer of 2012 might be like, though I hope it won’t be 90dg-plus temperatures all summer long. Earlier today, I found myself sitting outside, playing with my XM radio, listening to an assortment of different channels, and essentially going down memory lane, thanks to the music from these different channels. Images whirred through my brain, thinking of this new social media called Tumblr (a somewhat rediculous sounding name), and all of the potentials that they feel that they have the right to boast about. They haven’t gotten as big I have my friend, Mara (a gifted musician from New Zealand-sillyblindharper) to thank for helping me to set up my Tumblr account, and to start to explore all that is the world of “Tumblr.” Mara is a lovely young lady with the voice of an angel, and somewhat of a devilish spirit that would seem to fit someone of much more advanced years. She sometimes seems like a person placed out of time, which is probably why most of her friends are people from my generation. When I was growing up, I often found myself in a similar predicament; I found myself wishing that I had grown up in the jazz world of the 1920s-1950s where I could have played with the likes of Billy Holiday, Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker, Miles and Trane…you get the picture…but instead I grew up with the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, The Four Seasons, and the Beach boys. Even the great R&B and Doo Wopp musicians from the 1950s were considered to be “old” and “not cool” any more by my contempoaries. The Beat generation were considered to be disillusioned alcoholics by my pot-smoking and drugged-out Hippie friends-and then, there was me, wishing that I could time-travel to their generation; if only I were a cool version of someone from my parents’ generation! Were there any other strange people like me who felt this way? I must admit to enjoying the pot and some of the drugs that people in my generation were doing, yet, I seemed to constantly find myself playing the cooler music from those “older” folks, even though I listened to the likes of Cousin Brucey and BMR on the radio, and I had quite an extensive collection of all of the rock albums. I have encountered a few “old souls” in my journey that is known as my life; maybe not, so surprisingly, they seem to be musicians and song-writers. Mara is the most recent of these people, and the youngest, as well. As I sat outside, playing with my XM, I couldn’t help but think of my parents, and of the musicians, and of all of the ambiance that went along with the different music as I flicked through the decades channels on the XM dial. I saw my parents, after my father came home from “the War (WW II), my brothers growing up when they and I were little kids out in Merrick, NY, and even the troubled 60s, the drugged 70s, and the 80s, where, when I wasn’t much older than Mara, I lost my father, started living with a girlfriend, got married to a different one, and watched my mother grow old and frustrated because she could no longer do things for herself. As I find myself in the second half of my life, and as I hear from more and more people, that civilization and life as we know it, is comming to an end, it makes me wonder what is in store for the Mara’s out there. Maybe, just maybe, that’s His gift to her, and to those rare souls like her-to make them wise old souls, growing well beyond their years gracefully, and with a real zest for life. If you ever should cross paths with someone like this, consider yourself to be truly blessed, and know that there are a lot of great good things ahead for you, even in these troubled crazy times that are the 21st century.
Hello to my FB&Twitter friends. Now you can follow me on Tumblr as well. I would like to thank my friend sillyblindharper (Mara) for helping me to set this up and create yet another monster for my ventings.