Relative History

I think my mother was attempting to groom me towards greatness, in the hopes that I would get close by social standards of the day.

This is such a line of reasoning I appreciate! Why? Only because I have found a dry humor therein, after time.

Why would I appreciate the approach, were I not to compare it to the expected outcome? Outcomes foretold do not contain the unforeseen. There's more.

My mother endured a significant paradigm-shift within what is called The Women's Liberation Movement. She was of the "Baby Boom" – reference to an enormous generation, born after "The Greatest Generation". 

So, the Greatest Generation were my grandparents – all having borne witness to The Great Depression (it was always a mumbled undertone, "well, during the Depression..."). I was always reminded how good I have it, and why.

The Greatest Generation believed that in so having engaged, endured, and prevailed during The Second World 🌎 War, that no more wars would ever be fought again, that no one would dare. This was a widespread notion of why the continuation of struggle was necessary, after the war and since – the Complex, but I digress.

Yes, Hitler was evil. Of this I'm clear. There's no other way to put it. I'm also clear that US operatives in Germany could have taken him down at any time. The US probably saw Hirohito coming for a governmental mile away too, perhaps.

It was an economic strategy that allowed the US to enter the war directly. Foreseen and allowed, because War benefits manufacturing and certain huge corporate profits. Well, not all the profits are made by huge corporations; the local funeral businesses also benefited greatly. 

But, against foes too that our allies needed resources to vanquish.

The common narrative of this is different, like many things.

Let me just add that President Eisenhower was not only wise, but daring in so alerting the public of potential dangers of The Military-Industrial Complex. 

The Greatest Generation believed that, by unleashing the Atomic Bomb, there could never be war again.

Isn't that a nice concept? Seemingly doublethink looking at it plainly. How is mass obliteration going to deter a newly created industry with so much pecuniary value? Nothing stops the insipidity of nonstop greed. Nothing. 

I have a copy of The New York Times from VE Day. May 8, 1945. On the border, my great-grandmother wrote, "For my grandchildren".

Not even they were spared the ravages of a war-mongering system, inventing reasons to be involved in warfare all over the globe – since then (if not always), unto the present day.

It's hard to look at history to see that much of it is a pretense to actuality, nevertheless revealed. And revered.

More soon!

My Own Music History – Beginnings

I have the story I tell – the narrative, as it were, but there are strange and murky details intertwined, heretofore undisclosed. Untold beginnings, changes, and results.

Recordings:

My parents believed in me, appreciated me, as the poet and songwriter; they were scared for me, but supportive.

I performed in public for the public for the first time with Tom as the drummer, like I'd always dreamed. His influence was stronger than my parents' for some odd reason. Perhaps because he was genuine in stronger ways. We played for The International Club dinner in 1983. I played again in 1984, the same year as the first demo.

My first recording experience was solo, in late 1984. A man named AdZe MiXXe (RIP 1997), to me to be known in the future as "Astrologer Extorinaire". (more later)

I first thought Tabula Rasa would be a great band name just after I wrote a song of the same name. It was 1987. For a short time, I would jam out with these brothers who were both geniuses, each in their own way. The Luckowski brothers. Eric could wail Jimi Hendrix before he was 16. Steve was a keyboard mastermind. In my mind, I imagined the universe in our undertakings. Young adulthood took us all rapidly in different directions, suddenly – but always with fond memories. 

I would love it if any audiotape survived from that era – just to listen, not to publish. That stuff takes considerations we didn't have then.

There are a mere few who could still posess original audio recordings of mine that I myself lost posession of, albeit not but a few people and a few songs. I don't count errant recordings by fans. I mean master sound recordings on archaic media. 

Long before Bucketstomp™. But, I'm jumping ahead.

I may have another post somewhere about my otherwise adventures in choas that led to a strong season of my songwriting...

There were survival and bills to navigate through, then as always. Young adulthood came for me with quite a bit of responsibility. For a couple of years, I just worked. After my first brief, embarassing stint at college, I embarked upon the field of corporate restaurant management. My songwriting was something I still worked on, but had no idea what to do with. (Yes, I do not mind the informality of ending sentences with prepositions.)

An analog/tape cassette 4-track recorder cost $1000 in the late 1980s. I did not have that kind of disposable income, bills as they were. My guitar was very sad...a generic acoustic, very warped. I used to jokingly refer to that guitar as a cheese slicer; the strings were so far from the neck – especially on the higher frets – that one could slice a block of cheese on the strings. Upon a visit to the farmer's market, I saw a guitar someone was selling for $100. This was to be my first acoustic/electric guitar, the Kay. This was the beginning of 1990, the year my grandfather died.

Did I mention I wrote "Time To Go" for my Grandfather? That was February 1990.

It was in April 1990 that I met Chris McDonough. I was hanging out in West Chester (In PA — in the Southeast, one of the 11 boroughs of the Philadelphia metroplex) with my friend Tom. We used to go to this bar back then called Jitters. They used to do this thing called Mug Night, where one bought a mug for $1, and got $1 beers in the mug all night thereafter, and could bring the mug back the following week for $1 beers. At first their mugs were giant. Then they half-sized them before stopping the trend. It was usually packed with people. That's where I met a favorite local artist named Brendan McKinney, the Thursday night mainstay solo rocker at Jitters in those days. Tom said a friend of his - a guy named Dave – I'd met him before - lived across the street and that he wanted to stop over and say hello, so I went to randomly say hey too. Chris was this guy's roommate at the time. That's how we met.

Chris was a graduate student at the local university working on his Master's in Philosophy while managing a video store down the street. He also casually mentioned he had a degree in classical guitar. I casually mentioned that I wrote a song called "Tabula Rasa", which happens to be a philosophical tenet coined by 17th century philosopher, John Locke. This mildly piqued his interest. We left it open-ended that we'd get together and jam sometime.

Shortly after that, I brought my guitar, the Kay, over to his new apartment and I did a demo performance of top tunes I was working on at the time. While I very much admired his ability, he called my tunes "like Sesame Street". I remember having felt insulted by that and didn't fathom we would jam again. I remember I played for him "Time To Go", and "Planet Earth"...I forget the other one...perhaps "Father".

Tom became Chris' roommate shortly thereafter. A few months later, I rented the apartment across the hall from those guys. I would stop over after work and hang out with Tom here and there. Tom had excellent taste in music, so oftentimes we would listen to great albums, or watch music videos on VHS. His influence on me was great since we had been friends since young childhood. Tom was a drummer as well. Even back when I was taking piano lessons, Tom and I would jam out. We always loved singing, "Help" by The Beatles, and "Another Brick In The Wall, Part 2" by Pink Floyd. Lots of stuff.

One of those times I was over there, Chris came in and told me he had something worked out for "Time To Go", a riff. What he played was exactly what I envisioned for the song. We've been jamming together in one band incarnation or another off and on, ever since.

Of course among my inspirations all along the way, I credit Chris. He challenged me in every creative way, which changed the course of my music and my life.

My Own Music History #2

So...what went so wrong, so dark?

Who's to say the darkness hasn't reached everyone?

Once upon a time I told tales of how we were pioneers of a new era. Now that the new era has dawned, I still fear judgment — having been severely judged in my memory of how things were.

The Drug War has been the major unaddressed political war, shadowing all others, in the US, for over 50 years – at least in mainstream parlance. The real movenent began with temperance as political activism. That was unsustainable to the public at large and the greater welfare of a nation, to the extent of having to amend and re-amend the US Constitution.

I fathom the unfortunate turn of events in that era only served to persecute, demonize, and ultimately prosecute that which had been just fine before, and just fine after — were it not for the urgency to falsely pursue, demonize, perpetrate, and expand the thought process eventually into "drugs".

Does society crave false dichotomy? It's okay...as long as you don't get caught. Nowadays that thought process will not be assuaged by blatant disinformation. 

But back to my tale. I was a wanton mess after '94...only to have been incidentally and suddenly visited by this guy named Michael. I had not seen this man in 4 years. 

That guy is an underrated force of coolness of that entire era. 

He happened upon my doorstep just upon a single day after I lost my job, as I sat - scraping my paltry tray. In hospitality, I gladly scraped whatever I could as to situate a doober for this glorious reunion.

We had met before. As Tom, no doubt, has evidently underwriten my whole life, I'll point out that Tom introduced me to Carl and Michael in 1987- both housemates at the time...each with his particular penchant. More later, I hope. 

There was a guy named Adam, whom I met in high school, that was also involved during the time. Others who come into play.

Many of my friends turned to the darker side of drugs. Oh hey – I went along far darker than I dared, but could not ever bring myself to exist there but for a moment before needing to be away from the nature of the fiend mentality.

...but, I saw the results of not having been pulled in their directions...many were pulled to Seattle. Oh, for the wont of a messiah character. More on that..

So, Michael showed up that day with 4 friends and I had enough herb for one doober — then they were gone.

I had no herb, no money, and no job.

But...I had a passport! That became important shortly thereafter. More on that.

The next day, Michael visited me in the morning by himself. Thank goodness, because I was out of pot.

It was all a part of "our nefarious history" adventures that led to us being pioneers and political prisoners-of-war in the days of marijuana legalization. 

It was definitely a different West than the Old West.

Except when we shot our way out of a Mexican prison. Totally kidding. That didn't happen. 😁

More next time!

My Own Music History #1 - Memory

History is something I've been fascinated by since a young age. As a child, I was given encyclopedias to play with. What fun I had!

As the first child, and within circumstances created as strange yet portrayed as normal, I was inundated with early trauma. This endowed me with hyperthymesia which are instances of time recalled in episodic memory. For example, my first memories are of being a baby – and not foggy, partial remembrances, but moments in time I re-experience in vivid clarity.

What comedian recently came out with a similar "affliction"? I too memorized US Presidential history. My parents used me as a party favor from the age of 8. Right. And the Greatest Generation found me quite useful for crossword puzzles. I have a lot of stories about this. Maybe I'll have a chance to go into it.

My memories of events can be like re-living it all. I think of a moment of a time of life I experience, and I can place myself there mentally with a clarity that is disconcerting to others. To a degree, in transgressing the always-changing culural norms, this served to my benefit. I could relate on a multi-generational understanding that many my age, and since, just cannot.

It is, however, a curse. 

temporal displacement

 Sometimes my posts can serve as something of a diary, with the dates out of sequence. The same thing holds true about my studio releases. I had been a songwriter for decades prior to producing or releasing anything, with many songs written long ago that are now brand new.

Information is like that. Even if it's ancient history, it's brand new information upon its discovery. New information? Mostly that hindsight can lend greater perspective. The old adage "hindsight is 20/20" is not really true; because, some will pick apart the past unto false narratives.

Because people experience time in such a linear way, it's so very common to put boundaries within certain states of being. We exist societally in a certain way, unto a certain point, and then that moment passes unto the next. I know many people are beginning to question this way of being. Are stages or levels really appropriate in all circumstances?

Perhaps, as long as vastly differing levels of intelligences exist, this mustneeds be so. Not so, however, that human compassion should be so limited as to negate humanity's well-being on a larger scale -- nor limited by humans by way of algorithms and "all-the-buzz" of AI.

Be gentle, o' masters of the maths...and I mean those yet to come. Those now postulate upon a flash, indicating nothing. 

a consideration

Before

Addressing someone in jocularity

In terms that could be misconstrued

And therefore cause offense,

Consider first

That person's disposition.

© 2021 Jeffrey Robert Adams

All Rights Reserved

Wane #02

Beware

The individual who will hinder you

Due to self-fear.

It is low-minded, but far too common.

JRA

06/30/21

© 2020 Jeff Adams

All Rights Reserved