The change is for real (No, not menopause.  At least for me.).  I had my last cigarette 9/21/09 (And no, I was not in front of a firing squad).  I've stayed true, strong and pure (No snarky side comments please).  So, my life change is for real.  Damn I'm happy, proud and I guess blowing my own horn (No, don't even think of going there!).  Happy, happy, joy, joy.

One last day of smoking.  Then tomorrow I stop.  Gonna use the gum (it has the added benefit of keeping me orally distracted).  This is certainly one of the toughest changes I've ever made (and I've made a few).  Ahhh, but maybe this is the most important change.  Life is awesome and what better gift could I give myself for a joyful life than this one.  Damn, and I look so sexy in my smoking pic!  :-)

Call it infatuation, call it a crush, call it lust, some of my friends call it NRE.  But whatever you call it, there’s nothing so exciting, invigorating and life affirming as a new love.  Oh  BTW, the Kundalini rhyme here cracks me up to no end.  Why?  And this one’s got a fun background vocal.  Chords and vocal performance may be available upon request. 

 

Can’t get your picture from my
mind it drives me crazy,
I’ve been stricken by a new love.
How my heart is calling.
On my knees, I’m crawling.
I’m a victim of a new love.

Old love’s easy, doesn’t mess with your brain.
Gentle smiles, sometimes gentle pain.
And true love washes like a summer rain.
But this new love whips me like a hurricane.

Ow my head is thumping,
All my bones are jumping.
I’m afflicted by a new love.
Come on honey give in,
Time to get to sinning.
I’m addicted to my new love.

Old love’s easy, doesn’t mess with your brain.
Gentle smiles, sometimes gentle pain.
And true love washes like a summer rain.
But this new love whips me like a hurricane.

Man, I feel so funny,
dreaming ‘bout my honey.
Can’t stop thinking ‘bout my new love.
Life it was so easy,
Head is spinning dizzy.
I’m high on drinking up my new love.

Old love’s easy, doesn’t mess with your brain.
Gentle smiles, sometimes gentle pain.
And true love washes like a summer rain.
But this new love whips me like a hurricane.

Lord, I crave your kisses,
Heaven’s so delicious.
I’m uplifted by our new love.
Open heart’s so easy,
frees my Kundalini.
I am gifted by our new love.

Man, it’s dangerous out there!  Disease abounds.  Be smart, be safe, be heavily insulated with multiple layers of protection.  One of the advantages of being as seasoned (?) as I am is that I came of age in the pre-AIDS era.  This song is my commentary on how the dating world has changed.  We had a lot of fun breaking out this tune a dive bar in Aptos a couple of months ago.  My buddy Dave (BFF!  OMG!)  and I bantered and sang our way through it.

 

(Me:  Hey Dave, do you meet women in bars sometimes?
Dave: Yeah.  Been known to do so.
Me: What do you look for in a woman?
Dave:  Packed and stacked.
Me:  Well, when I was a young buck I felt the same way, but now I’m a bit more discriminating.
Dave:  So then, what do you look for in a woman?
Me:  Me?  I look for a woman who’s disease free.)

Oh oh baby, won’t you come home with me.
I really love talking to you and you don’t look like you’ve got no disease.
I’m a real clean man, even sterilize my BVDs.

I’ve got rubbers on my windows, rubbers on my doorknob too.
I’ve got a little rubber peephole, even got a rubber room.
If I hit the floor at midnight, keep bouncing up and down till two.

(Me: Man, it is scary out there.  Sometimes I just want to get away.
Dave:  Where do you want to go?
Me:  Get out to the mountains, back to nature, where it’s clean, beautiful and peaceful.)

Camping in the trees is a clean, pure beautiful thing.
Ain’t no disease, living, breathing out in the green.
I leave the Crisco back in Frisco, and just play music and sing.

I’ll let you see my papers, I’m certified all germ free.
Then we’ll zip up in our wetsuits, get as wild as we can be.
We didn’t know how good we had it, with herpes back in ’83.

Those who follow my postings (both of you) may recall my post “Creating Love in the World by Sharing Cake.” Cake speaks to me of caring, nurturing, home and hearth. Well, if cake is love, then meat is sex. There's something wonderfully primitive, savage, bestial, fierce, raw (pork tartar anyone?), and uninhibited about meat. So, in my mind (and elsewhere), women who eat meat are sexy. Now don’t get me wrong, some of my best friends are vegetarians. Hell, even my ex-wife is one. But carnivores certainly have their virtues. Why do you think they call it carnal knowledge anyway?

Oh meat! Sweet, smoky, saucy, spicy meat! There's nothing that gets my juices flowing more than when a woman desires dripping, steamy, savory, stimulating, succulent meat. Bacon, beef, lamb, pig, venison, duck, yummy nasty sausage, it all works for me. After all, I'm quite the flexible and open minded guy. Love of meat, especially of the gamey kind, speaks to me of audacity, broad-mindedness, spirit, vigor, ferocity, viscerality, unbridled passion, unrestrained ecstasy, and, of course, a strong stomach (quite the desirable characteristic in a lover). Whew, I think I need a cigarette! ;-)

I'm sipping my coffee, smoking my cigs, and reflecting on Karma, Noe Valley, and sin.

I was just at the farmers' market, down in Noe Valley. Smelling, sampling, savoring the wares. Thinking of a friend and what delicious delicacies she might like. But then I thought of ME! So, for me, I bought some tart and tasty jalapeno cheddar biscuits (Ughh, bovine bodily fluids!, not my friend's favorite fare). Then, Karmic payback?

They asked me to leave! Why? Was I smoking? No. Did I emit odious odors? No, I smelled good (yum). I was sporting the de rigueur Noe Valley uniform and accessories; jeans, t-shirt, Birkenstocks with a Martha & Brothers coffee in hand. But apparently, something was missing, and I just didn't fit in. No baby at my breast! No toddler in tow! Non-breeders not allowed!

So, for the next time I venture down the hill, into the fecund bowels of Noe Valley, I wonder? Could I borrow a small child? Do you have a wee offspring to spare?

(WARNING: Poetic license means this may be fiction)

Oh cake. Sweet. Filling. Fulfilling. Sometimes sensuous but more often evokes emotional feelings of home, warm love and being cared for. Now why is sharing cake a (small) part of my way of creating love in this world? Cake speaks to me of oral and gustatory passions (ah, the pleasures of the flesh). Cake speaks to me of home and hearth. So, when I have cake and share it, I share joy, warmth and love (and ecstasy).


Cake is best when it's offered to those who don't expect it. "What? A sweet gift I didn't expect!" Once, at Pasta Pomodoro, I shared a cake with the waitress, the matre'd, and the kitchen staff. Everyone there was projecting happiness and love. Nobody could stop smiling, beaming, glowing. I love to give others happy surprises (I'm a giver, but I suppose you've figured that out). And when I have cake, I love to share it. With strangers. And, of course, friends too. Could I interest you in a piece of cake? ;-) Whew!

(yet another song, in G)

Love happens when you’re not looking for it. Especially, it seems, when you don’t want love to happen. Seek and ye shall not find. Live your life and when you least expect it, it bites you in the ass (in a sweet, sexy way, of course) and won’t let go. And that’s the most powerful, overwhelming kind of love. And you just can’t run, you just can’t hide.

G
Well I woke up this morning,
Bb
thinking of you.
G
Thought a new day was dawning,
Bb
still you’re coming through.
G
Got to get away from this longing,
Bb
but I don’t know what to do.
C D
Got to find a way to find somebody who,
is nothing like you. G-Bb-C, G-Bb-C, G-Bb-C

C
Don’t want a woman, tells me I’m her man.
G
Don’t want a woman, who understands.
C
Don’t want a woman, I love so much.
D
Don’t want a woman, makes me quiver at her touch.
C
Don’t want a woman, who’s all I desire.
G
Don’t want a woman, sets my soul on fire.
C
Don’t want a woman, who I think is the best.
D
Just want some peace, Lord I need me some rest.

I shut my eyes and hit my king size,
but you were in my dreams.
I don’t know why it hit me by surprise,
now you’re everywhere it seems.
If you’re my disease, then I need a drug,
I’ve got the shivers through and through.
Got to find a way to find somebody who,
is nothing like you.

Don’t want a woman, tells me I’m her man.
Don’t want a woman, who understands.
Don’t want a woman, I love so much.
Don’t want a woman, makes me quiver at her touch.
Don’t want a woman, who’s all I desire.
Don’t want a woman, sets my soul on fire.
Don’t want a woman, who I think is the best.
Just want some peace, Lord I need me some rest.

I put the NFL on my TV,
but you were on my mind.
Life used to be so easy,
now I think of you all the time.
You’re with me 24 hours a day,
I swear it’s true.
Got to find a way to find somebody who,
is nothing like you.

Difficult times are an opportunity to grow, to make important choices, and to better know and define ourselves. The end of my troubled five year marriage, in Jan. 2007, was the most positive growth experience of my life. I was confronted with anger, hate and negativity of unimaginable intensity. How would I react to this tsunami of trouble? Would I meet anger with anger? Meet hate with hate? Would I lose my center? I wrote this song, Channel Gandhi, to remind me of who I am and of what’s important. Every morning, I sang it as my daily mantra. And I emerged stronger, more centered, happier, and more loving than ever before. For me, this may be my most important song.



I’m gonna channel Gandhi, find that man inside me.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

When there’s anger all around,

won’t lose the love inside me.



My wife called me names, like you ain’t never heard.

When that woman gets angry, all she wants to do is hurt.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

When there’s anger all around, won’t lose the love inside me.



When you’re feeling angry, try to make others cry.

You know that deep down inside, you just wither up and die.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

When there’s hating all around, won’t lose the love inside me.



Now I ain’t no Jesus, can’t turn that many cheeks.

But anger takes you down, you’ve got power when you find peace.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

When there’s anger all around, won’t lose the love inside me.



Now I’m not no hippie, and patchouli ain’t my thing.

But when bad vibes come around, I’m gonna love, I’m gonna sing.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

When there’s anger all around, won’t lose the love inside me.



I’m gonna channel Gandhi, find that man inside me.

I’m gonna channel Gandhi, that’s who I’m gonna be.

Won’t get chained down by hate cause I know,

only love will set you free.

Mary Mac is a wonderful, warm (and hot), smart, soulful, woman whom (proper English anyone?) I met here on OKC. We touch each other in many wonderful ways (Hey there my sex obsessed friends, right now I'm talking about heart, mind and soul). She is a fantastic friend and inspired me to write this song (a little poetic license as always). What a wonderful journey (thank you, Mary Mac)!

Oh, BTW, meeting Mary Mac has also given me faith in the OKC matching system. We've got impressive OKC match numbers; 89% match, 88% friend, and only 4% enemy. Maybe OKC really has got something here. OK, on to the song:

You stopped me in my tracks,
Just like a heart attack.
Now I can’t go back,
Oh pretty Mary Mac.

I found out what I lacked,
When you clarified the facts.
You know I got your back,
Oh loving Mary Mac.

Oh how we lift each other to the other side.
Imagination, transformation, what a ride!
Every hour, every minute, a brand new day.
I wouldn’t ever have it any other way.

Thought I was daddy mac,
But now that don’t mean Jack.
I pray you leave me intact.
You scare me, Mary Mac.

Was in a lifelong nap,
Then you woke me in a snap.
You’re the one with the knack,
to touch me, Mary Mac.

Oh how we lift each other to the other side.
Imagination, transformation, what a ride!
Every hour, every minute, a brand new day.
I wouldn’t ever have it any other way.

You scare me, Mary Mac,
You tear me, Mary Mac,
You bare me May Mac,
And I won’t turn back.