Category Archives: Spirited Stuff

Pryor Explains It


Reminiscing with strong coffee on Sunday mornings can lead to all sorts of things; yesterday I was just looking for funny stuff and came across this old clip of the immortal Richard Pryor on the Johnny Carson show. He just simply and plainly explained the truth about people with addictive personalities – we cannot stop at two drinks like you “normal” people – as Richard puts it, you don’t stop until you’re sure all the alcohol is gone. The way you wake up not knowing where you are – although I’ve never woken up driving 90 miles an hour – that’s reserved for big-time stars I think. Or someone telling you what you did the night before – and you don’t even recognize the person telling you. Oh yeah, that happens.

So why stay completely sober? Because it just gets out of control SO EASILY. My last drinky night was at a September 3, 1992 Cramps show at First Avenue in Minneapolis, so the day after that…that is my quitting day I guess. I don’t do the AA thing, that just doesn’t resonate with me

So here’s to you, Richard Pryor, we were so lucky to have you.

And thanks, Lux Interior, for the best last night of tearing it up possible:

Plumber’s Helper

Plumber’s Helper

It appears as though I am clogged. Blocked. Impassible. Closed off. I am speaking about my Chakras. None of them are clear, apparently. All Chakras are closed; well, one is weak, at best. What do I do? And why am I letting some whackadoodle online snake oil presence make me feel bad? I am ordinarily a pretty skeptical and “show me” sort of person. I think everything is bullshit, cuz it usually is. But on a lark I took the Chakra test (see, I’m even capitalizing Chakra, as though it is something Sacred). My test results came back and I felt the diagnosis was something akin to being told I had some sort of incurable illness.

chakrasMy foot Chakra was closed, meaning that I am not grounded – that is a load of crap – I am grounded. Bullocks to that one. But based on their scientific questions, what if they’re right? Am I not grounded – and how do I open my foot Chakra? Do I upgrade my pedicures from basic to super luxury which includes a sea salt scrub, foot mask, followed by hot towel wrap, and finished with hot paraffin wax? My wintered feet are quite calloused…maybe this will help. But I don’t think that’s what they’re talking about. I will need to study this further.

My root Chakra is weak – ok, I’ll grant them that one – it has to do with money, which I’m not good with, and career. I am new to my second career and although things are good, it’s not going gangbusters and perhaps I could be more strong in this regard.

My sacral Chakra is CLOSED. Well they are just dead wrong about this one and I don’t even want to talk about it.

My personal power Chakra is CLOSED. I also call bullshit on this one; I’ve made great strides in my self-esteem and confidence…maybe I wasn’t having a good day when I answered their bullshit questions.

My heart Chakra is CLOSED. What the fuck?

My throat Chakra is CLOSED. Again wtf? I am not known for shy violetness or not speaking my mind. Jesus.

My intuitive Chakra is CLOSED. Yes, I have no intuition about anything. I’m totally closed and don’t have hunches and can’t suss anything out. Again, fuck you, snake oil Chakra-mongers.

My crown Chakra is CLOSED. This is the one regarding higher power or spirituality. Again, I don’t know how they determined this from their little bo peep questionnaire about my deeply personal values, but again, I’m gonna call bullshit and also shenanigans; you are just trying to sell me some kookoo videos with your whacky new age blatherings.

Ah, there now, I believe I’ve just cleared out all my Chakras in this post just as if I’ve downed a can of Drano or used the toilet snake to clear out the cosmic debris of my aura. I got shit I gotta do now.

Quotes about life, from some of my favorite living icons and a couple of dead ones.


“In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth.” ~Patti Smith

Iggy-Pop-tumblr“They say that death kills you, but death doesn’t kill you. Boredom and indifference kill you.” ~Iggy Pop

“True friends. Hardest thing to find, but you never look for them – they found you; you just grow into each other” ~Keith Richards

“Style is whatever you want to do, if you can do it with confidence.” ~George Clinton geo

“Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free.” ~Jim Morrison

“I never make stupid mistakes. Only very, very clever ones.” ~John Peel

“I’ve learned quite a lot over the years by avoiding what I was supposed to be learning.” Margaret Atwood

“I have no idea why a guy would bring a jar of peanut butter to a concert.” ~Iggy Pop

Do I Mind?


No, I don’t, actually. Keeping in mind that I’m talking about mindfulness, which I am dutifully learning about and thinking about trying on for size. Do I mind? Well, maybe I could… Could I meditate? Could I stop my busy buzz buzz noggin and settle in for a quiet sit? Maybe after an hour of walking, swimming or yoga – but that’s so hard. Oh there you go with the negativity, buzzy noggin. I’m working with a Zen master who could certainly teach me how to quiet things down up there, but I’m worried that my eyes will start twitching and watering, or I’ll start laughing or something. Do I have to quit coffee to do this – cuz I don’t want to give up coffee – it’s like my last addiction and I think I’m allowed to have my last addiction, come on! Maybe “unplugging” one day a week would be advisable…I could be getting a wee bit stressed from being hunched over this laptop to which I’ve become enslaved. No, I’m fine. Really.  zencoffee

I can’t even calm down during massages, and I’ve got a super massage therapist. At least I feel comfortable with telling her I can’t relax. I’ve been to massage practitioners where I felt I had to act a certain way during the massage, lest they judge me – now that’s just wrong, isn’t it? Jesus, I’m paying them to relax me and I’m worrying about what they think of me. I am one mixed up puppy. So now I have a regular therapist with whom I can say anything…I’ve been going to her for years and it’s like finding that one person who can cut your hair right – you need to foster and nourish that relationship just like your best friendship or even your marriage.

My typical exercise for relaxation is taking my two dogs out to the dogpark, letting them run and I walk a couple of miles. I’m on edge out there, too; what if I don’t catch Egor pooping – he sometimes runs way ahead and does his business where I can’t see him. I bring bags and clean up after them if I catch them, but, you know, shit happens. There are “poop police” out there, I swear, waiting to find the terrible, terrible dog owners who didn’t pick up. They even try to shame you on a Facebook page. Another anxiety is 95 pound Iggy, who occasionally likes to bark at guys, especially if they are wearing a hat and carrying one of those ball-throwing things – they just piss him off and he expresses himself to them. He just barks a couple of times, but it always hurts the barkee’s feelings and I always feel the need to apologize for Iggy’s insensitivity and explain that he’s just saying “Hi” in a really loud voice. Then I walk away, embarrassed.

Am I overly concerned about things? Maybe so. But maybe I’m already mindful…how about that? Maybe I’m not a nervous nelly ~ I have already reached a mindful, Zen state; I am just not aware of it yet. Yeah ok, I thought not. A mindful practice is just that – practice – and I know it takes a certain amount of discipline to do that. I’m not good with discipline – the word reminds me of Catholic school. Could we find another word for discipline? The words “obedience” and “regiment” come to mind, never mind. I need to just bite the bullet and try some guided meditation. So what if my eyes twitch and water? I will just have to accept that with loving kindness towards myself. See, I can do this.

And When I Die….


I’m not dying or anything, but I have a rather morbid preoccupation with planning the playlist for when I die (perfect Halloween theme here….) I guess I’ve just been to many funerals of people I’ve known who would’ve absolutely HATED the music played at their wake and funeral – I know, I know, they weren’t THERE. But suppose they were…. Anyway, here are some of my bequests:
Frank Zappa – Peaches in Regalia
Funkadelic – Maggot Brain
The Stooges – I Got a Right
Patti Smith – Gloria
The Kinks – This is Where I Belong

The MC5 – Kick out the Jams (the Motherfucker version – I don’t care, I’ll be dead, sorry, Aunt Nancy, if you’re there)

The Beatles – In my life (ok, that’s sort of a standard funeral one)
The Beatles – Helter Skelter
Pink Floyd – Lucifer Sam
Tiny Tim – Livin’ in the Sunlight, Lovin’ in the Moonlight
The Stooges – Down on the Street
Sonic’s Rendezvous – City Slang
The Animals – It’s my Life
Cows – Hitting the Wall
Then there’s some stuff like Muslimgauze and other droning things like Big Lights in a Fat City I’d have playing in the background while the mourners eat and get drunk, and a few Irish tunes – Boiled in Lead playing Son O Son and Step it up, Mary.
I better put this in my will. Oh yeah, I better write a will.
What’s in your death mix?

A song for every feelink


I simply can’t get through the day without emoting in musical form. Today it’s been courtesy of the Davies brothers (and yeah, us Americans HAVE been mispronouncing it incorrectly for all these years…it IS “Davis,” not “Davees,”) and The Kinks. I keep telling my spousal unit about certain songs I want at my funeral; he thinks that’s morbid, but I think it’s good to be prepared. I’m not dying or anything, don’t worry. But when the time comes, I know I’ll be listening in, I mean, I’m fairly certain, and I want control of the set list.

Notes To Myself.


I discovered the last vestiges of my most recent law firm job. I was cleaning and organizing the house today, and I came upon this box. It sort of made me sad. The rubber finger thingy, especially. I feel like I’ve misspent much of my work life doing stuff I didn’t want to do. I’m certain I’m not alone in this feeling, but I feel really duped. Mad at myself, mostly. Why did I have to wait to get laid off and get a federal grant to go to school for free to change careers? Seems like cheating, somewhat. Naw, not really; I earned this! desk

I am what you might call a late bloomer.

I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night.


So it’s another radio nightmare…sort of. I was trying to deejay a show with one of my old radio cohorts, my friend Abbi who calls me “Punk Rock Mom.” Apparently I had been away from doing radio for some time and I didn’t know that they had changed everything in the studio. The music was being programmed in the same manner as the HAL 9000 computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Anyway, when we started playing music, all it was was ducks quacking. Abbi assured me that was what everyone wanted to hear. I attributed this to the fact that there was a mallard couple sitting in our little man-made backyard pond yesterday – just sitting there like they were ready to start a nest. I should’ve taken a photo. Not sure if Mr. and Mrs. M knew that there are two dogs on the premises weighing 76 and 96 pounds. But apparently the music “that the kids like” will be ducks quacking. You heard it here first!

Then I insisted that we play some Jayne/Wayne County, but we couldn’t find anything amidst the HAL system. Jayne must have been on my mind because of the big to-do regarding Facebook taking down her “vulgar” post – it really chapped my ass to the point of entering my dream.

And then it ended, as all of my radio dreams/nightmares do – in dead air space, with the mic open and not having anything cued up and not being able to speak.


The Art of Healing – IWD at KFAI



Here’s the link for Marie Cooney’s International Women’s Day show which I pushed the buttons for last Saturday. It was a great program – Marie did a super job and I was almost moved to tears by her story and the stories of her guests. They had all been affected in one way or another by severe brain injuries and experienced great triumphs over extreme adversities and awful prognoses; doctors telling them that there’d be no more reading, etc. Very inspirational and I was humbled by their stories.

Ok, I Won’t.


Things unfold in the weirdest ways…one window slams and several doors open…or is it doors slamming and windows opening?  I can’t remember the saying at the moment. Ride that roller coaster, Red! Weeeeee! Ain’t it fun? I’m more about busting out windows – or, well, mostly about windexing them because most of the time they’re merely dirty. I just need to stay inside and glance outward. I come from scrappy Irish scrubber women stock — I might wear my heart on my sleeve, but then I roll up those sleeves and get back to work. There’s stuff to do.