When Will It Be Enough?

It’s been 2 months since my last post. I’ve been in a sort of stupor of sadness. After my last post another one of my heroes passed away. Prince was a major influence on my life since I was in grade school. I started to write a post about how he influenced my life and half way through I just stopped. I began to think about the blog and the things I was writing about. Started to once again wonder if I should have ever strayed from the “Red & Black” and onto the paths that led me to “Zero’s World”. I mean 2 of the biggest influences in my life, Bowie and Prince were gone, and I had failed to mention either one till after their untimely death. David Bowie and Prince were not just musical influences, they were huge influences on self-love and respect, individuality, and understanding and accepting… no… celebrating our differences. They were major parts of my very complicated life, and after 3 years of blogging I had not mentioned either until their death. What was I blogging about when Prince was takin’ from us? Some dick named Jason Edwards and the ongoing feuds of McKee, Prinnie, & Radio.

Had I lost my way?

What would the Zero of only a few years ago (the one who started his journey here at WordPress with the “Red & Black”) think, if he could see what he was blogging about now?

I’m the only one who can answer that, and yet I can’t. I’m not sure if I would have ever started blogging if I knew how it would affect me and the endless circles it would send me in. You see I’ve had issues with circles in the past, and my whole thought process when I wrote that first post, what seems like a lifetime ago, was to help others to see the circles we get stuck in and of course what I have said throughout all of this, understanding. If we try to understand each other and all we each are going through, the whys and hows, we could get to at least a common ground where moving forward instead of declining backwards was possible.

I know a lot of you are saying, “really you blogged about this stuff? I thought you just blogged about Dorothy and LISK obsessors.”

Well, maybe that’s my fault… I may have let the circles get the best of me. And yet, no matter how far I have strayed, circles never let you get far from where you begin.

So these last few months I have sat down to write a post quite a few times but unsure where to go with it for the moment. How to ride the circles. Because circles are not always bad things… like I have said before, they can be like rain drops on a pond… each circle growing bigger and bigger. Or think of the circles linked together in uncountable chains, each connecting to another as you trace them, leading you into all possibilities.

But they are dangerous, easy to get stuck in small circles that are very damaging. Or worse, they can break off into downward spirals.

Whoa… very “Red & Black” today. Sorry, I will try to get to the point, if there really is one any more, and I do still have hope that there is one. Maybe that’s the point. That I still have hope for one. I definitely think that’s what I thought was the point yesterday.

There were a few times I started to write a post over the past couple months. When I read the news about a man who had been with homeland security shot his estranged wife and many other innocent people in a 2 day shooting spree:


I sat down to type, but nothing came. This guy was with Homeland Security!?! Once again there seems to be no lines between bad guys and good guys. Maybe that’s why I didn’t write a post.

There were other times I came to this screen wanting to put to words how I felt about all the things going on around me… when an Egypt Air  plane disappeared from the skies I once again sat at a blank screen wanting to say something but not really knowing the purpose of anything I could say. No matter what I said about it then, we’d still be at the same place now:


Each time the argument about where people are allowed to use the restroom came up in the news and online I wanted to pound hard on my keyboard in all caps… but it wouldn’t have stopped the lunacy from growing as it did.

The thing about this blog is, the more I skip on planned posts and the more time I let pass between them… the easier it is not to blog at all.

For every thing I want to post about there are countless more things that I could be blogging about. Positive things, negative things, crazy things. The posts alone about this election would fill this already crowded blog. So again, what’s the point?
While posing the question to myself and getting stuck in a circle of sadness, I got some devastating news about someone very close to me.

Suddenly all the fucked upness of the world was hitting way too close.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t posting… because there would have been some dark stuff last week.

I really started to wonder if there was any hope for humanity. Are we stuck in circles or trapped in downward spirals so dangerous, there was no hope?

By the end of last week I still wasn’t sure where my head was on everything going on in the real world but I knew I wasn’t done in the Internet one. I had to write a post… about something… about anything, or it would just become to easy to let it go.

I thought long and hard this weekend, a good weekend spent with family and friends (my son had graduated from High School, that’s 6 down 1 to go) and thought hard about the world around me both close and distant. Yes, there was craziness and despair, but it was still beautiful to me. All of it had meaning… all of it had purpose, there was a point.

I decided to finally come back to the blog and post about a lot of what I just wrote, though more detailed in some areas (like more on Trump, Clinton, Bernie and the election) while not in others.

I planned the post in my head Saturday night as I went to sleep. I wasn’t sure whether I would call it “Summer Of Love” or “Summer Of Fear” but guessed it would be some sort of combination of both like “Summer Of Love Or Fear?” or “Summer Of?”. I had planned on using a couple of songs by Offspring:

I wanted to show the contrast of fellings, but I wanted to express the hope. I never know for sure how a post will go because things change as I write them, but I know I wanted to end positively and though it was a post about how fucked up things seem to be getting I wanted to express it was our Summer and if we wanted it to be a fun one regardless of all the shit we were going through, it could be. It was up to us to make this a Summer of Love and not a Summer of Fear.

Yesterday morning, I shook off all the doom and gloom and sat down to set it all back into a postive spin that could spin us into circles of hope. I also turned on the T.V.

The screen in front of me would remain blank once again.

The deadliest mass shooting in America’s history:



Now what?

This is it. Maybe our final wake up call before it’s too late.

But that sounds a lot like fear.

It also sounds very real.

The choice of a summer of love vs. a summer of fear seems more important now than a silly post on a silly blog.

And I really don’t know which way it will go. I can’t even say what side I may find myself on.

This tragedy hits on so much, from gun control issues, mental illness and Islamic terrorism to the bigotry of all religions when it comes to the rights of the LGBTQ. But the fact remains that all these senseless things we do to each other is because we don’t care to understand each other.

I know there is still hope… most of the world wants to understand, accept, and live peacefully with each other. There is still love out there.

But is it time for us to seriously be afraid of  what may happen if we all don’t join together and fight against what is trying to destroy us…

or will that only insure our destruction?

The zero who first started blogging here on WordPress I’m sure would want us to fight the fear and embrace the love and hope for change.

That zero is gone though and I’m left more confused than ever and as I said, not sure where I will find myself.


Dying Heroes

The track above comes from a Nikki Sixx solo project called 58. The song is called All My Heroes Are Dead Now. The album is called Diet For A New America. It came out in 2000. Don’t feel bad if you never heard of it, most people haven’t, which is too bad, because it is quite a remarkable album. Different from most of the stuff out 16 years ago, even different from most of the stuff out today. The album was way ahead of its time, and still is in my opinion. Please check it out, you won’t be disappointed.

When I first heard this song back at the turn of the century, the impact of what it was saying hit deep. It wasn’t a new concept of course.  People have been singing about losing their heroes long before I came to be. It’s a part of life that can’t be skipped unless you leave early or choose not to have heroes. Both ideas are very sad to me.

I have been lucky enough to both to have lived a little while and to have many, many heroes. I’ve use the word lucky a lot lately… I definitely feel I have lived a lucky life… I also feel lucky is just another word for blessed. And in this world of contradictions, being blessed is also being cursed. I know, that doesn’t sound right, but it’s true.

Back when I first heard the song I was quite a bit younger than I am today, (duh, 16 years younger) and it made me think of my lost heroes like John Lennon, Sid Vicious, and Kurt Cobain. But to be honest, other than Kurt most of my dead heroes were dead before they were heroes and Kurt was a quick flash, in and out, still very influential to me and his death was a shock and left its hole, but again it was all so quick. Also, with these heroes (John, Sid, and Kurt) their deaths were part of the whole romance, part of the story, part of the hero. Sorry words can’t help me get to what I’m trying to say, but  I know most of you get it.

I never want to claim to know what a writer of a song is trying to say, but I definitely don’t mind talking about what the songs say to me. And in this song, I knew that there might come a day when I would feel all my heroes were gone, the blessings of the curse.

I turned 45 the other day. I know most who read here are a little older than me and hate when I talk about how OLD I’m getting. I know, I know, I’m still really young… but I can’t help it, I feel my age. If it’s any consolation, as I’ve pointed out before, I’ve lived a very excessive life, and therefore I don’t just feel my age, but the life I lived as well, and damn it, I feel old.

Regardless, 16 years later (older), and the first of my heroes (the ones who have been there from the beginning and make you feel like they will be there forever) is dead. And I won’t lie, I’m not ready for it. And I’m not taking the news of David Bowie’s death well. Even after a week it’s still sitting very heavy on all my thoughts. I’ve been playing all my Bowie records all week remembering all the years his music was there for me, after all it’s been there my whole life. I really haven’t been doing too much else this week. Haven’t checked any social media or the blogs (and I see I’ve missed a few things, but we shall get to ALL of that in good time). I plan to write a more detailed memorial for David Bowie soon, when I can deal with this loss clearer. For now I’ll end this post with how last weekend crashed into my life, like a diesel truck hauling nitro glycerine.

I had spent Saturday January 9th, 2016 listening to Howard Stern and catching up. I hadn’t listened in a few months. I was devastated hearing of Riley Martin passing away recently:

Riley Martin Dead: ‘Howard Stern Show’ Regular & Alien Expert Dies At 69

Damn, I loved Riley Martin. His death saddened me even if I wasn’t too surprised by the news. Howard had often said Riley did not seem to be doing well, and since there had been a couple other Howard Stern show deaths this year, mentioned in this earlier post:


I had thought that a third death was imminent, and that it would probably be Riley. So I was not surprised, but still very sad from the news.

Later that night I thought about making a post about the things discussed on Howard Stern that day and thinking about Riley. And then I thought about how Natalie Cole and Lemmy Kilmister from Motorhead had both recently died. The 58 song came back to me. These were heroes to people, lots of people. Their deaths were more than just deaths, they were the loss of heroes.

Now some of you may doubt this part, but this is what happened and you can check television listings for that Saturday night if you don’t believe me. I was sitting there thinking about dying heroes and the 58 song and a David Bowie documentary came on the T.V. It was called David Bowie: 5 Years. I had never seen it before, and it was so good and brought me to some great memories I have that go along with all those Bowie songs discussed in the documentary. It was cheering me up and then the drastic thought came to me.

The song tells the truth, my heroes will all be dead one day.

Not David Bowie though, I told myself as “Diamond Dogs” played on my T.V. I couldn’t even let the thought form completely. I still hadn’t seen a David Bowie show, surely David wasn’t going anywhere till I saw him live. But something dark nudged at my soul. Still I would not let the thought finish in my head. It was just too much to wrap my head around.

Until the next day when I was forced to finish the thought.

I had just come to the blog and was deciding if I would write about Howard Stern or the many other things in my head begging to be worked into posts, the television was on,  news (as usual) and they announced that David Bowie had died.

I just looked at the screen at first not believing it, it was a trick of some kind. I looked at my wife who immediately teared up, she was seeing what I was seeing.

I cried out. “No…”

My wife said that she had woken up last night saw I was watching something about David Bowie and she had thought that she would really like to see him live again (Sassy was lucky (blessed) enough to see David Bowie live with Nine Inch Nails), I told her I had been thinking how great it would be for us to go see him live together. Then we both had tears running down our faces.

I turned off the computer, no longer in the mood to write a post and put on my copy of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars.

And that’s where I’ve been the whole week, lost in my Bowie records, felling my age, mourning the loss of my hero.