freddy ready

righteous moves

“Either we have hope within us or we don’t, it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not essentially dependent on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation... Hope in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed... Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism.  It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense no matter how it turns out.” - Václav Havel

right on.

today i made up a stirfry of the last vegetables in the fridge. im not going to stock the thing for while im away so im finishing things off. i doused summer squash in toasted sesame oil and tamari and threw the onion and garlic in too, and went to town.

i keep thinking of a million things that i know i wont be able to do before we leave. its very damn frustrating. bout to just go pick up the guitar and forget the whole damn logistical freakin nightmare. its fucking unreasonable to be trying to do this much.

anyway were doing a geat cover for the daniel shows--it used to be one that todd and he would cover in their band back when, which i think is a great way to say hey danny!

the last of the red hot chili peppers

Dont be afraid of mistakes--
there are none.
--Miles Davis


i have offended folks with my blog. its palpable. and it isnt even because folks who read it are prudish or noncussin types--just very sensitive. and i think i am fairly soft most of the time. so it must seem a big change up. i can say it is all meant in the same, exact loving way as anything else i ever say. i think it is even considered.



today, i saw a dead frog on the side of the highway when i was walking to teach my last class before leaving. it was early and dark, but the unmistakable little legs in their froglike posture... and then this evening coming back from rehearsal, there was a mother deer who had just delivered a baby and was about to deliver a second, awkwardly trying to get some distance between herself and the car. the new calf, or whatever you call a baby deer, was loping after her on such new legs. how amazing to come in to life and immediately have to run. and the mother, trying to lead the little thing to safety while giving birth again, and having her own sense of survival i am sure!

i have nothing to complain about. although i do. and nothing to be cussing about really, but i do. mostly, things matter, and i find waste and disregard and thoughtlessness and greed unforgivable and against goodness. it makes me cuss, as my mom used to say when i was a kid-cuss. ;) she's from ft worth. too.

ps a friend handed me a cd today of the american folk blues festival 1981 with louisianna red singing everything i do gonna be funky. oh yeah

http://youtube.com/watch?v=FDcYBZx8sCM

that is SO what im TALKin about!! and heres some more--can you believe james brown has passed? not even! check this out:

the hardest working man in show business

Mr. Dynamite

Soul Brother No. 1

the Minister of Super Heavy Funk

the Godfather of Soul

and he said, this:

“I taught them everything they know, but not everything I know.”




check it.

the last of the cicadas

are singing as hard as they can. it has become urgent: there's only a little time left! did you see the moon last night?! look, now, the sun is setting!

and so (im garrison keillor now) another season is over, and will never be again just like it was, but will always have been. ;)

and i am the luckiest girl in the world.

(ps oh here they come around again for one last chorus!!!!!!!)

still and even

that's the day outside. so incredibly still. nothing moving. except the truck driver delivering produce or meat or beer to the cafe next door. but the air is like held breath or very deep sleep.

i was lying in bed wondering what i wanted with the rest of my life. its a monday thing--i know its tuesday and ive refused it, im calling it monday again.usually when i think such a thing, i go immediately to love. thats where it always goes. but i dont know where my heart is. love has had a very bad year in me, and my heart seems to have closed a door and then another and disappeared down a hallway of doors so that i dont know if i even think i could believe anyone ever again. i had no idea how many people fake love, or really believe they are experiencing it but you never did see a worse case of notifithityouintheass. but its not a good thing, my heart disappearing down a hallway like that, not for someone like me. im a little dumb anyway, heart people are maybe--good idea to watch out for those superheady folk. my heart, if its in there still, must wonder if its a shoe or a broom. cauterized. now that's a really ugly word; something that's been burnt off at both ends or where it might flow into something else. like, no more, thanks. that's  bad thing. for my heart to be at zero tolerance. very bad.

of course im in the wrong mutherfuckin business too. i dont believe in the business of music. its like the business of marriage, or the business of birth or death--go the fuck away and get out my face. thats what i have to say for the business of music. what a load of horseshit. how the fuck are you supposed to sing again?

"now, let's see, here's --[not even fuckin kidding you] a critique of your song, its really well crafted and the chorus isnt so much  a chorus as a subtle yet effective hook--"

"im sorry where the bathroom at or should i just vomit all over you?"

"excuse me?"

"oh no i dont think so. excuse ME. i think i may just have crash landed from neptune cause I DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOURE TALKING ABOUT OR WHY YOUD THINK I CARE! who the fuck would critique a song? now i ask you! for WHAT? hey but i never got the whole autopsy thing either, i realize its science and whatnot but fuck off its still some freak digging around inside someones body while theyre not around to stop em and that is just nasty kink. "

"im going to have to ask you to--"

and so on. but anyway. something is terrible wrong with my heart. dont know why but my whole life ive been surrounded by a measure of folks with serious shit issues that they havent worked out and/or want to issue all over everybody else.maybe thats standard, i dont give a fuck. its just wrong. im fucking tired of people not cleaning up their shit. and i do mean ALL THE WAY. to where youre not secretly harboring some awful crap about let me in stealth and secret come up on this person and do them harm. for fucks sake. isnt that what the twenties are for? cleaning your shit up? getting it together? i swear, the happiest ive ever been in my whole life was this summer with my daughter, after id left my day gig, and gone inside and closed the door where nobodys rank ugly shit could get at us, and just spent time inviolate and happy. shes the only person i know who doesnt have a mess of lies about everything, and we were (mostly) untampered with. i cant remember the last time i felt like those things from that movie, you know, they are kinda alien i guess and they sort of take off their skin and theyre all light and whatever. coccoon! yeah, and they take their skin off or something and then just chill or whatever. we were like that, chillin in total trust. but i dont know what happened to my heart. the first thing i think of when i think about the restofmylife question is love. that whole thing. not sure if i believe it can be done. to quote martha wainright, everybodys just a bloody motherfucking asshole. or sumthin. how can you love or sing with all this rank funk filthy motherfucking uglyass carniverous envying nasty shit everywhere?

understand, its been a long year. i deserved my molly bloom soliloquy rant. fact i dont think ive had a good rant in... hmm, since i got to texas? fuck that.

time for a big ass cup of the best coffee ive ever made and some music goddamn it. i gotta get my heart back in order.

ps if this is your first time to this blog and youre reading this and actually think that i think all people are m...ing as....les relax, all is well, its just a thing i do. i repeat it every so often, get my rant on and then its done. bear with me, have a sip of coffee, take a load off. and no, i dont think everyones an asshole.

'splain me

why that damn rooster cant keep its mouth shut. you heard me, i said rooster.

i have grown another head to cope with all the information from booking this thing, this tour, and lemme tellya, i know it looks all weird and all over the place but its not. reLAX. i got it. have you seen how to get ahead in advertising? its the shit--two heads, no lie.

likin carrie underwood's new vid. go figure. cant say ive ever listened to her before but just saw it, and its great--or ok, she is, actually. utterly convicted and sincere and lovely. nice. thinkin its autobio cause what aint, but even so.

but have you heard jonathan rice? prophet's new stuff? anything by jesse denatale? dylan's modern times? i mean, get over it. and oh snap, yay, my new head just fell off.




;)

equinox ode

today i am absolutely flying in the face of convention: i put winter AND summer squashes together for a soup. i needed a soup today. obviously its fall. but did you know you could include the skin of a butternut squash in the soup? you can. i know its not done much but i learned it from wendy esko i think, you just throw it all in there, and it softens up nicely. i even didnt bother to take the seeds out of the little bell at the bottom, just left em in. green and yellow summers and a mess of rosemary from the bush outside. its just the right sort of day for it.



i hear from artists a lot that they are worried about copyright and ownership and whatnot. i understand wanting to have whats yours be yours, but ive never met an artist who was happy about nobody being able to experience their art, to give it away. i see incredibly gifted people sitting on a pile of amazing work that theyre afraid to share or put out because someone might steal it, or take it for free, or whatever. and so the amazing art just sits there, rotting and making them ill. it is very bad for the health not to do what some native american indians call a give-away; its a ritual central to right living, good community, artisanship.

ps  at the very end i tossed in even more rosemary, a curry blend, a huge amount of olive oil and celery and pepper. i think its a stew now. too bad theres no baguette on hand to have with it. ;)