Late Night Madness

Several weeks ago Mark bought me a copy of Eckhart Tolle's book, A New Earth. He warned me that the first 30 pages were hard to get through, but after that it gets better. I dunno if it was the power of suggestion or a fact of being, but he was right. The words really had me agitated after only a few pages and I was tempted to say forget it. I've never read any of Tolle's work before so I don't know if this is his general style or what, but it sounded to me like he was trying to rationalize Christianity under a guise of spirituality. I don't know how else to describe it. Plus for some reason Tolle's picture on the back really creeps me out, even now when I'm enjoying his words much more.

Despite myself, I held faith in Mark's promise that it gets better and just at the end of the first chapter, the story did seem to take a left at Albuquerque and improve. I wouldn't say it's been a gripping read (the kind that has you blowing off other things in favor of another chapter), but it's definitely remained interesting with powerful insights and entertaining analogies. Plenty of food for thought and spirit.*

This morning I was feeling lazy after I woke up so I snuggled into the sheets and turned some pages before seeking out coffee. Tolle was describing the "pain-body" that resides within us, both personally, and in different groups such as race, gender, and nationality.

The pain-body, for those who have not read the book, is a field of stored negative emotional energy that is inherent in us all. It is the source of unhappiness in our lives, closely connected to ego; that which separates us from peace and Presence on a spiritual level. I get the concept, but for a reason I have yet to figure out, I am very resistant to the moniker Tolle has given it. "Pain-body" just sounds stupid to me, although I admit I can't come up with anything better. Whatever.

Anyway, he was talking about triggers - how our own pain-body can be attracted to other active pain-bodies, and how that can manifest all kinds of day-ruining things like traffic accidents, arguments, etc. The best way to counteract it is to be fully Present in the moment and not feed on the negative energy. That immediately reminded me of a bizarre experience I had one night at the grocery store.

It was late and I had run down to A&P to pick up something I needed the next day. I came out to the Jeep with my purchase, jumped in, and started it up. The parking lot was mostly deserted since it was closing time. The space in front of me was empty, so I intended to pull through (as most people do) instead of backing out.

I put it in gear, but there was a gentleman coming with a shopping cart. His car was parked diagonally to the left of me in the opposite row, next to the empty space I intended to pull through. I wasn't in a hurry so I waited for him to cross in front of me; I didn't even lift my foot off the brake. He stopped short of his door and fiddled with his keys. His cart was still in my way so I sat there absorbed in my own thoughts. He only had a couple bags, so I figured it wouldn't take long for him to put them in the car.

I'd say on a normal day his fiddling may have elicited some kind of impatience in me because one of my less attractive traits is zero tolerance for people who are completely unaware of what's going on around them. Such self-absorption really pisses me off (maybe because my ego secretly wishes it could be that way too instead of being the people-pleaser I am). For instance, one of my pet peeves in any crowd is when people stop in the middle of the flow of foot traffic to discuss where they're going. They either don't realize or don't care that other people around them would like to continue on their way without obstruction.

But on the night of this confrontation, that truly was not where my head was at because I was not at all pressed for time. In fact, my thoughts were so far away that when the guy started yelling at me, it felt like I had to come back into my body before I could understand him, and even then my head was doing double time experiencing and observing in the same moment.

Through the windshield, I saw he was staring at me intensely and asking a question. I rolled down my window and leaned out to hear him better - I thought he must've asked for directions or something. Wanting to help, I said, "I'm sorry, what?"

He came towards me angrily then saying, "What's your problem? Don't you know it's illegal to pull through a space in front of you?!"

I was completely bewildered. I hadn't even moved, but I guess he assumed I was annoyed? Was he a cop or just crazy? I hadn't made any kind of threatening gesture toward him, had barely looked at him in fact, but he was totally pissed at me. Before I could process enough to get Ego involved, I heard myself say in true concern, "Are you okay? I'm sorry if you're having a bad day." Meanwhile I could feel the other part of my brain on red alert, all too aware of how alone we were in the lot, and devising a plan of escape in case he became violent.

He gave me the strangest look, like it was his turn to be entirely confused. I think he didn't know quite what to do with my unexpectedly detached reaction. Hell, even *I* didn't know what to do because I felt like I was watching someone else live this experience. That's never happened to me before, or at least not so vividly.

At that moment we both heard his cart start rolling and turned to watch it thump into his car door. Whatever weird thread of energy was connecting us (or not) was broken, and he stomped over to retrieve his groceries. I have to admit it was hard not to giggle at the cosmic joke. My rational mind took over then and I pulled through the space and left since both he and his cart were out of my way.

Down the road when I was more myself, I wished I'd stayed a little longer because my people-pleaser that can't stand to see folks unhappy wanted to understand why he acted that way and "make it better" for him. It was probably smarter to get out of there though. Trying to wake the Unconscious can be dangerous business, and should probably be left to professionals.

I've never had such a surreal experience though. I don't know if that was complete Presence in the moment or removal of presence (out of body experience?), but whatever it was I won't soon forget the feeling.

And by the way, three cops I've asked have said they've never heard that it's illegal to pull forward through an empty parking space.

* People often use the words spirit and soul interchangeably, but I have a theory that spirit is separate from soul. I think spirit may be the thread that connects your soul and your thoughts. Have to think about this more and write the whole thing in another blog.

Losing My Notion of Time and Space

There’s an attic storage room off of one of the bedrooms in our house. It’s really cool because it’s like a secret room. The wall that contains the door is covered with decorative worm wood on the bedroom side, and one of the holes forms a natural handle. The door isn’t so well done that you’d never know it was there, but I wouldn’t say it’s noticeable on first glance either.

I cleaned this space out last night in my continuing effort to purge and pack. Mark and I each have a side of the room – his side has a pile (literally) of abandoned music equipment, mic stands, furniture, and odds and ends. Organization is not his forte. My side was neatly stacked with two storage cabinets, a couple boxes, and several Rubbermaid containers that held Christmas decorations and gift wrapping sundries. Funny how even in the hidden spaces, our personalities are evident in stark contrast.

Once my side was empty, I stood there a moment looking around, listening to the steady precipitation outside (again). I remember standing in the same spot, doing the same thing when we first moved into the house five years ago. It was raining then too, and the gentle drumming on the shingles just inches above sounded so awesome I dragged Mark upstairs to hear it. It could've been a super romantic moment, but it went over his head. (Pun intended. Ironically, Mark is in San Diego on business this week. How did that happen?) I wish I had the right equipment to record the resonance because it would lull almost anyone into a trance. Must be something about the slant of the roof and the cotton candy acoustics exposed in the walls.

I stood there so long, just listening, that I finally sat down and closed my eyes. I rarely plan to meditate – in fact, I suck at it so bad I avoid the traditional practice to save myself the frustration – but once in awhile it just kind of happens.

As always, the Monkey Mind took over at first. I wished Mark would donate all the things he doesn’t use, especially the music equipment. I imagined someone being able to pursue their dreams with the “junk” in our attic, and I felt a sad energy from the neglected items. I was also annoyed that they were thrown into a pile with so little regard, some things broken from the abuse. How arrogant we humans can be - we take too much for granted.

I thought about the trip I took to St. John’s just before I moved to NJ, where I bought the bamboo wind chimes that now hung from the ceiling, silent for years. I missed the distinct clacking noise that brought a little of the Islands to my home on the mainland. (Those got put into a box to go with me, for sure.) I contemplated the roofing nails dangerously sticking through the wood above me, and wondered if the roofers used the wrong size and how it is that water never finds its way through the holes. I was thankful for that.

My head took a Left then and I chastised myself for sitting in a motionless muse listening to rain when I should've been out there sorting things, but my Right mind shushed me. Ego grumbled about how crazy I would look to anyone that walked in the room. I mean seriously, I’m sitting on a makeshift wood slat floor in the middle of a partially empty closet, surrounded by discarded clutter, doing nothing. Pad the walls, lock the door, and call it a day, right? But my soul was enjoying the peace too much to care.

Finally, I ran out of things to think and was left with only the awareness of my breathing. A line I read in a book floated past my conscious:

The breath breathes itself.

Inhale… exhale... In... out... the breath breathes itself... do without doing*. As within, so without. Effortless natural rhythm, inside and out. And there was nothing but silence on the backdrop of rain.

When I finally emerged from the attic still in that kinda between state, I found it was over an hour later. Time is such a fickle concept.

The other day in my rant I said "I'm moving, not dying" but maybe I should take that back. I suppose this is a death of sorts, just not a physical one. I tend to lose myself in relationships, but I have a hard time seeing just how far I've drifted off course until I can stand outside and gain some perspective. When I do, it can be a killing moment.

I've looked back on my past before and wondered who was living my life in certain periods because I can no longer relate to the person I used to be. Perhaps someday the same will be true here, who knows. Even so, I see the thread that stitches all those different incarnations together. It's organic and shimmery and made of magic things physics can't explain, and it's getting Lighter by the minute.

*Othila is the rune under which this advice appears in Ralph Blum's rune book. I know, it was bugging me too so I had to go look it up.

Rant Alert

I have to go on a small rant here, so please excuse me while I scream. This will not be pretty. It is decidedly NOT the best side of my personality but it is part of Me Under Too Much Stress, and my words will be loaded with f-bombs so the Easily Offended should just click here for something less controversial to read.
I'm sure my friends and family are well-meaning, but I am so fucking sick and tired of hearing the following:
"Why are you moving to San Diego?"
"You've never even BEEN to San Diego? How do you know you'll like it?"
"You don't even have an address yet?"
"You'll end up back on the East coast in a year."
"Why don't you move to --insert home state of speaker here-- instead?"
"Why don't you put your things in storage and see if you like it first?"
"Katy is staying the summer? What if she never moves out to California?"
PEOPLE... PLEASE.
I am moving to San Diego because it's 70 and fucking SUNNY all year, and because I LIKE the West coast. I NEED sun. I get cranky JUST LIKE THIS without it. It's been raining in Bergen County for WEEKS, and the sun only seems to come out when I'm inside working. And as beautiful as the snow is, the winters suck and it seems like this one will NEVER END. I can't do this anymore.
No, I have NEVER been to San Diego, but I've also NEVER ONCE heard anyone say "EWW San Diego, don't move there." Why would they lie? Everyone LOVES San Diego. Why does it matter to you anyway? I'm the one going to live there. I'm told the people are generally laid back, organic-eating, health-conscious, environmentally conscious, HAPPY humans. I want to contribute to and be part of that. I will fit in there. I AM one of "those freaks." Who WOULDN'T be happy in 70 and sunny weather with a beach and ocean right there? If you are questioning me, you may want to look inside yourself to see what makes you resist the idea so vehemently.
No, I do not have an address yet. I don't have anywhere to tell the truck to deliver my stuff. I do not have a deposit on a residence. Yes, I will literally be homeless for a couple weeks. This does not scare me like it may scare you (ok, maybe a little, but I can live with it). I have hotels lined up and a plan of action when I get there. It's not like I'll be living on the streets, so chill. You will get my new address eventually.
Trust me, it will take A FUCKING ACT OF GOD to drag my ass back to the East coast once I leave. The East coast is great for many people, and I love the culture and history of the major cities (Philly, NYC, Boston, DC), but the pace here is too much for me to sustain forever, and the attitude... well, I don't want to be that and I see I've become that and I don't like it. I'm not dying, I'm only moving. Relax. I will still have a phone and email and all the avenues of communication we inhabit 90% of the time. I came back to this side of Turtle Island to repair my relationship with my father. I feel I have repaired everything I can, my boyfriend set the catalyst for a move by asking me to move out, so it's time for me to go back where I belong and that is out West.
I am NOT moving to any other state. Not Texas, not New Mexico, not Arizona, not Pennsylvania, or anywhere else (although I MIGHT consider Hawaii - and no, I've never been there either!). I've been thinking about moving somewhere in California for over a year, not that anyone paid attention, and I settled on San Diego in the last six months. That is where I'm going. Nowhere else. Your state is great for you, some of them I've lived in already and they were great for me at the time, but it doesn't mean I want to repeat it. I want a new experience in my life just as bad as I want a new experience in my government. I'm not moving or voting so I can continue living the same old shit.
I am NOT going to put my things in storage to give you some false hope of me coming back. The only reason I considered the idea at all is because I'm having trouble affording the truck to drag it all with me. At this point, I'd rather give it all away and just leave than put things in storage. I'm STILL not coming back. If there is an actual act of God that brings me back, then I'll figure that out when I get to it. Don't hold your breath.
Yes, Katy (my daughter, for the confused) is staying in NJ for the summer. With friends. Without me. She is 19 years old and technically an adult. I cannot MAKE her go with me, and I am not abandoning her. If she changes her mind AS I PULL OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY, I will still take her with me and she knows that. She can make her own decisions, and while I certainly have tried to influence her choices, they are still NOT mine to make so if she says she's staying, then she's staying. Talk to HER about it. I am setting her up with a plane ticket to come to California when she's ready. That could be end of summer, or in the fall, or next year, or never. I can't predict the future.
Katy will be FINE either way. Have some faith! When I was 19 no one believed I could make my own decisions even tho I had been living on my own for 2 years. That really chapped my ass. No, Katy has not been on her own yet like I was, but we all gotta start somewhere. Yes, I certainly made many mistakes, but those mistakes gave me a shit-ton of experience and this is probably one of the reasons I HAVE the balls to move cross country on my own. Huh, imagine that! I'm sure Katy will make mistakes too, and you know what? I have confidence that she'll live through them, and if she turns out even half as capable as me I'd say she's ahead of the game. Living on her own for awhile and discovering her independence, be it good or bad, is not going to kill her, and it will probably be great for her.
SO... to those of you who are mad, upset, sad, and/or negative about my move, I would greatly appreciate if you could keep your thoughts and questions to yourselves. You'll get used to me being a citizen in the Governator's state, you'll see. And you'll be thankful when you have a place to stay when you come visit the coolest vacation city in the continental US. I'm not denying you the right to your opinion, I would just appreciate if you would keep it to yourself.
To those of you whose response has been "How cool! Wow, I really admire your courage! You'll love San Diego! Go you!" even while you were actually thinking "This bitch is crazy," THANK YOU SO MUCH because you give me a thread of sanity to cling to in these last couple weeks before I take on this adventure. I am VERY grateful for your positive input. I mean that sincerely.
Blame my rant on the full moon. The moon loves me. It understands.

Enlighten the Load

You know those moments when the harsh light of reality clicks on above your head and suddenly you see things more clearly and you’re all like DUH, I AM SO STUPID. That happened to me just the other day.

I thought I was doing pretty well with the letting go of things as I pack to move cross country. I've sold a lot of furniture on craigslist.com (Best. Web site. Ever.) and built a massive pile in my dining room of decorative items, linens, clothes, shoes, and all kinds of other stuff for a garage sale and/or donation. But I was having trouble selling myself the idea of leaving books behind.

I love books. I refer to Barnes & Noble as the Vatican and I tithe like an alter boy in the priest's chambers. My "To Read" pile eats up a healthy bite of my bookshelves and just keeps getting fatter. I often wonder how I escaped the publishing industry for so long.

When I was getting estimates for moving trucks, I was dismayed to find they were much higher than I anticipated. I was told my books were what raised the tally because they are heavy (especially since I have a thing for hardbacks) and estimates are based on weight in the truck. Darn. The price of being educated.

I decided to weed out my library, but I didn't do a very good job. There may have been 15-20 books I was willing to part with, all novels or things I'd read halfway then lost interest in. (I gained back about 10 bookmarks tho!) It wasn't even really a dent. I accepted that it's going to be an expensive move, and packed the rest.

Then the other day I read something that flipped a switch. Books "belong to the world" a particular blog stated, and they should be passed around and shared, just like music. Hmm. I nodded in agreement, but my conscience was poking me because I know I'm not walking my talk. I've had an account with bookcrossing.com for four years (another awesome web site), and I've registered exactly four books - all within the first few weeks of membership. Not what I'd call a shining example of sharing.

I've always felt a bit of unrest too in the fact that books are made of paper, which means dead trees, and the more I buy, the more I'm contributing to killing trees. Especially if I'm recommending other people buy the same book instead of just giving them my copy. Not cool. But I still love my books. There's something very relaxing about seeing them lined up in a bookcase; or being curled up in a chair with one, your favorite beverage on the table by your side.

Anyway, I questioned if I was being selfish. :sigh: Yes, probably so. My rationale has always been that I might need to reference them later when I'm writing, but I know deep down it's super rare that I've ever actually gone back to look something up. In fact, even if I did, the chances of me remembering which book to look in were pretty slim, and half the time I can find it faster on the Net. Sometimes it sucks to be so internally honest.

So I asked myself, "Why do I have such a hard time letting go of books?" Well, I like having them in my home because they make it feel cozy and comfortable, like a bookstore or coffee shop. Somewhere in the grey matter I also knew it was a little bit because I feel like people with a lot of books are generally smart, and I want others that visit me to think I'm smart too without me having to demonstrate it. Ego was lurking in the corner at this point, looking guilty and trying not to be conspicuous.

"Which books do I like having the most?" I asked. Definitely the New Agey-spiritual ones. (They are a majority of my collection.) "Ok, then what is it about the New Agey-spiritual ones that I like so much?" Ego's virtual hand shot up despite myself. "Because they make me feel more spiritual and surely they project my enlightenment to the world!"

Oh Ego, if I give you enough rope, you always hang yourself.

The floodlight was tripped and I realized that if that's really why I was hanging onto all that ink and paper, beautiful as it may look on cherry shelving, I had COMPLETELY missed the point of the very tomes I stubbornly clutched to my being. Siddhartha was right: Attachment only leads to suffering. (And expensive transnational moves.) You can't find yourself, or a feeling of spirituality, or enlightenment, by looking for it in material things... like books. DUH.

So I actually UN-packed boxes yesterday and sorted out everything I've read. I'm even putting all seven of my hardback first edition Harry Potter books on eBay. (Fantastic story, but seriously, do I need JK Rowling to make me feel magical?) I kept any I hadn't read yet and my absolute favorites like Conversations With God, The Red Book, Surfing the Himalayas, and God's Debris. I then noticed I still have more than enough to create a cozy feeling, especially since I'm not taking all my shelves with me. After I finish reading the books that made the cut, they'll be moving on. I'll probably have bought twice as many to replace them by then anyway, plus it gives me reason to explore new coffee houses in San Diego and find public bookshelves in need.

I'm leaving all my Book Darts (yet another fabulous idea) in the titles I'm giving away too. I always found used books that have notes in the margins especially intriguing because it leaves much to the imagination about who the previous owner was. Book Darts offer even less explanation, but the places I mark are generally good points to spend a few extra minutes pondering. This spreads a bit of a balm on my strangled Ego too, thinking the next reader might possibly stop and wonder who I am and what made me single out that particular passage.

Maybe the truck and my spirit will be a little lighter now.

Some Enchanted Evening

Just about two weeks ago I drove 3 1/2 hours to Worcester, MA (pronounced Wuss-ter, which I cannot imagine spelled any other way now thanks to Jenn at Random Lunacy - check her out) to see Jason Mraz play one of his last gigs on the Music, Magic & Make-Peace mini-tour promoting his new CD, We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things. coming Tuesday to an iTunes near you. So much of my trip was spent in the Present Moment it felt like living a fantasy, and I'm not trying to be dramatic.

This is going to be long, so make some tea and get comfortable if you’re interested in getting to the bottom of this.

Now let's see...

As some of you know, and others may have guessed, Mraz has been at the top of my Favorite Musician list for almost three years. Not just because he writes great songs with lyrical prowess and memorable melodies; if you read his blogs and listen to his interviews you will find a genuine, True person. He is not a fabrication of the music industry, a marketing department, or your imagination (although he will definitely engage it!).

Wuss-ter is 3 1/2 hours from where I live so originally I had not planned to go to this concert, but the temptation of seeing the show one last time proved too much. Once you're a Mraz fan, just plan on spending all your extra cash to go to his concerts because they're like Lay's potato chips - you can't stop at just one.

Yes people, he is all that and a bag of chips. (C'mon, how could I not go there? :)

I left work early so I could reach the venue in time. The weather didn't look good, it had been raining all day and driving long distances in rain makes me nervous. The Universe smiled shortly before I left though, and the roads were dry. What a blessing.

The drive proved to be just as charming as the concert. I discovered that CT-15 North is a beautiful route and very much resembles driving through a Disneyfied woodland forest. The highway is lined with trees and wooden fences, and I passed under several arched stone bridges with iron scrollwork along the top. Being that it's Spring, everything was bright green, pink, yellow - gorgeous colors everywhere I looked. If a cartoon princess had come skipping across the road, woodland friends in tow, I would not have thought twice about it.

As I was driving along admiring the view, I happened upon an exit for New Canaan, CT. Once upon a time, I lived in New Canaan with my mother in an apartment above a huge empty house that still holds the record in my mind for the Best. Kitchen. Ever. (Mom says I'm mixing up my memories, and it's possible I drempt the kitchen, but seems real enough in my head.) It was around the corner and down a few streets from a house Robert Redford owned (for real), and I remember we would joke about rubbing elbows with all the snotty rich people when we did our grocery shopping at Food Emporium. Now that I shop mostly at Whole Foods in Ridgewood (a very similar store in a similar neighborhood), I think about those trips and suspect I may have become one of the snobs. Hmmm.

We only lived there two months, but I have a surprising number of good memories from that place for such a brief period of inhabitance, so even though I didn't have time to use the exit, it was very cool to pass the signs and flip through happy thoughts like a photo album.

Further along the trail, there appeared an entrance to a tunnel through a mountain. Have you ever unexpectedly smelled something that reminded you of kindergarten? When I saw the tunnel, it must've released some mad rush of serotonin in my brain because I felt that same sense of wonder and excitement one rarely experiences after growing up. It was weird and awesome all at once. Amazing how something so simple can give you a thrill.

Mom and I traveled a lot when I was little, and I remember vividly going through tunnels in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, and the Smokies in Tennessee. They were long and dark and I'd make up stories in my head about mythical creatures that could pop out ahead and whisk us away to another time and place. (Have I mentioned what a large part of my childhood good ol' Walt influenced?)

Looking back I'm not sure why tunnels thrilled me so much (I avoid the Lincoln Tunnel like the plague) but it was way cool to feel that same anticipation and I literally laughed out loud at myself.

And this was all BEFORE I got to the concert!

The rest of the drive was actually uneventful, except at one point I found Benny & The Jets by Elton John stuck in my head. I tried to think how that could've possibly happened since I'd been listening to Jason the whole way, and decided it must be an association with Mraz singing Rocket Man, along with a realization that I hadn't heard him play Rocket Man at all during this tour and that I missed hearing it. ::cue foreshadowing music::

I arrived at Holy Cross College just before the doors opened. Jenn and Matt had been standing in line with a new friend, Bridgete, for over an hour so they were right up by the door. I felt COMPLETELY GUILTY walking past all those people to go stand with my friends at the front, especially when I saw how cold they all were and I'd just stepped out of a nice warm car. Thank you SO MUCH to my friends for their generosity! And thank you to everyone in line that probably thought I was an ass, but didn't say anything.

We were let in shortly thereafter and found our way to a place near the front of the mob at the stage. There was a bit of confusion about people who had tickets in hand vs. those forced to pick them up at will call, so we were about 4 people deep in the crowd despite the awesome line position. Oh well. I have no complaints. Standing there waiting for the first band, I thought it was kind of funny that I seem to always end up in the same spot relative to the stage.

Everclear opened the show for a reason no one is able to figure out. They're an odd pairing with Mraz, but fortunately I like their music so it was fun to see them live. I couldn't remember too many of the lyrics, but I recognized the songs, and they definitely rocked the house. I thought surely due to time they must be replacing part of the Music, Magic, & Make-Peace circus that has been this tour, but no. It was a 4 1/2 hour marathon of fun with no one left out.

Since my reviews of the first two concerts I attended (PA & NYC) went by the wayside, this will kind of be a combination of all three.

I have to say, the PA & NYC shows were great, but they were almost identical in every way - right down to the jokes between songs - and I find that odd for a Mraz production. In the past, his concerts have been less staged: the setlist was more of a crapshoot (in a good way) and the banter was less predictable, which is what makes it so worth buying tickets to multiple shows on the same tour. Don't get me wrong, both PA & NY went by at 100 SPH (Smiles Per Hour) and I enjoyed every minute. I was just surprised these two were SO similar and it makes me wonder if it had to do with record label control or if Jason decided it's easier to work that way, or you just can't be that spontaneous with that many people on stage or what. I've always had too many questions in my head, the most persistent being "Why?"

The Wuss-ter show appeared to have more spontaneity to it but later, when I looked up the set lists from the Canadian shows the two nights previous, I saw it wasn't quite as spontaneous as I thought. Either way it made me happy and that's really all that matters.

The Ring Master for this event was Justin Kredible, and he is exactly that. His bowling ball trick is my favorite for the "how the fuck did he do that" factor, and I still laugh when I think about his "learning a new trick" with the banana. It's a very a-peel-ing bit. :D

At Wuss-ter, as he was cleaning up from the banana trick, he flung some of the mashed fruit into the audience and a little landed on me. The next morning I tried to brush my hair and found it was still sticky from Justin's banana. ::snicker giggle::

I never did get a chance to ask Justin about his girlfriend's name either. Someone told me he's fucking Amazing, so I figured that's what they call her. Amazing is an odd thing to name a girl, but cool nonetheless. I'll bet her middle name is Grace. :D

Ok, enough with the bad jokes. (Justin started it.)

The Makepeace Brothers, hailing from Ithaca, NY, are awesome. I've never been such an instant fan of an opening band. I downloaded the songs available from SnoCap on their MySpace page and I already want more. You should too.

They use an unusual blend of instruments - bass, cajon, and uke or guitar, depending on the song - which makes them sound like much more than the three-piece they normally are. Actually, according to their MySpace page, there are four brothers and the bass player (a brother from another mother) in the band officially, but somehow I mostly saw three of them on stage. Dunno why the other two seemed hidden most of the time.

Things Gonna Wait, the last song in their set, is definitely potential hit material with the catchy hook and simple, happy lyrics that quickly become a sing-along. They bring all the musicians in the tour onstage to perform this one and it's a party atmosphere every time.

The only thing that bugged me a little about Jason shakin' his tambourine (and other things) during this song was the obvious shift in the tide of adoration anytime he moves around the stage. I love Jason dearly and he can't help the attention his presence draws, but I felt like it took away a little from the Makepeace Brothers' most shining moment. Mraz tries to stay in the background, but the crowd never buys it. MPB are so worth ALL your love every minute they play, it made me sad that people were so easily distracted.

Back on the up side, you gotta love that they wore Blend Apparel shirts at every show. F & A. (Censored for the sensitive. :)

William-Billy-Bushwalla-Galewood hits the stage with so much energy you can't help but be swept up by it. He starts out slow like he's moving in for a chaste kiss, then licks you head to toe with his funky eclectic groove and you're left thinking, "Hey, that was pretty sexy! Can we do it again?"

I've listened to his music before, even seen him perform at The Mint in LA, but I can't say I knew his tunes intimately before attending these three shows. I think Brown is my favorite. It makes me giggle every time because it's a sing-along with a lot of "don't sing heres" and "shhhhs" interjected as Billy conducts the audience, and of course no one gets it right. Creatures in the Yard is a close second (mostly because it mentions dragonflies, and how can I not love that?). And I have to agree that it's hard to be a gangsta with a basket on your bike, but Tittybangin' courtesy of Bushwallian Cruise Lines (giggle)... Vitamin Me (LMAO)... that was definitely a fav performance at the Wuss-ter show. As I've said before, polar bears envy Billy's coolness, and his wardrobe.

Bush's backup band is actually Mraz and his troop, but for most shows they took to wearing black electrical tape to "disguise" themselves for that set. By the time they reached Wuss-ter, they ditched the tape, but who can blame them? They probably had no facial hair (or skin) left from ripping it off each night.

Billy is so commanding on stage it was easier for the crowd to focus on him when they should. The couple songs that featured "Johnny Wishbone" aka "Sloppy Joe" (Jason's character) still elicited a higher pitch of hoots and hollers, but it seemed the love was spread a little more evenly.

By the time Mraz actually popped outta Justin's tent (snicker) as himself, I almost forgot it was him I was there to see. It was good tho, because I felt like, "Damn, all that AND I get to hear Jason? Too much rock for one hand!"

As I said, Mraz's sets in PA & NYC were almost identical, the difference being Sleep All Day in PA, and Plane in NY. At least both times he sang all the songs the way I love them best. Growling out words (yeah baby); Beautiful Mess had different chords at the end; extra verse and Wonderwall and Ian's bass solo added to Remedy (which saved it from monotony); Live High had "singing" instead of "selling" gratitude in the lyrics (selling just doesn't fit the vibe of the song), and in I'm Yours "god-intended" sounds much nicer than "god-forsaken." I know, details details, but to me the details are like a spice that sends it over the top. Banter in NY was more interesting than PA too, although I had to go back and listen to the taped version to understand a few things he said.

And by the way, can I have a "Hell YEAH" for tapers?!

The Wuss-ter show was in a different class. The crowd was worse, but the set list was better. He started his set with the middle verse of Rocket Man (so freaky - I thought maybe it was a telepathic moment in the car until I read later that he played it in Canada the last two nights as well), then he chose Bella Luna, complete with a request for the sea of cellphone stars (which always looks amazing).

Unfortunately a group of very loud drunk kids chose that moment to shove their way in behind us and I couldn't hear over their talking and shouting through most of the song. After several quick fantasies about death to the idiots behind us, I decided it was instead an opportunity to practice rising above my ego (not what I WANTED to do). Situations like that remind me I still have things to learn about maintaining Peace on the inside. I was hoping someone would put a video of the song on YouTube, but no such luck.

Older Lover was louder than the Rude People, which was way cool, and in the break he started singing "Can you read my mind?" I was thinking, "You must be reading mine because it's like you're taking my requests!" After that he played Life is Wonderful, and even added some opera in the encore (his range is incredible).

And speaking of the encore... No Stopping Us was an awesome choice (in my opinion) because he had the brass with him, and that song is just 10 times better with horns. I wasn't yet a fan when he released his Tonight, Not Again live CD so these dates were the first time I'd seen him with the extended band.

I love that the Grooveline Horns are from Austin because I have ties there. They were incredible, especially when they show up in the balcony (if there is one) or on the front barriers (if there isn't) and play in. your. face. during Live High. I dunno who had that idea, but it rocked. There was a nice distribution of solos among the horns on various nights as well, and each one held me transfixed.

Fall Through Glass was a brilliant choice for the second encore song because it is so upbeat, everyone is on stage again dancing and jumping, and the audience is just rockin' out on their own at that point, and I love that Jason is the kind of guy that will choose his best friend's song instead of another of his own. About halfway through they freeze in place while Justin comes out to name everyone (think: roll credits). He snaps some pics, thanks the audience, then they start up again and finish the song. You think to yourself, "that is the PERFECT show ending..." you're leaving on such a high note... but wait...

Everyone bows like the best Broadway musical and they leave the stage, but Jason hangs back, grabs his axe (my favorite one with the pink Om symbol in the middle), and offers a very intimate, personal performance of You and I Both. He asks everyone to sing along, and most do, but it's more like a bedtime story or a lullaby that leaves you all warm and mushy inside. In the middle he takes time to impress upon all who are paying attention his thoughts on gratitude, the Golden Rule, and environmental consciousness. These are the values I identify with that make him one of my favorite performers - the thread of Truth that runs through everything he does and weaves his success. He walks his talk, and that impresses the shit outta me. I'd say normally leaving an audience on a mellow note like that might not be ideal, but this worked like pixie dust.

So that was the end of the concert, but not the end of my story. Sorry. If you need a pee break, you know, it's the Internet - it'll still be here when you get back.

We drifted to the lobby and hung out for a few minutes, tried to take a couple pictures outside but we were all freezing, so after hugs and goodbyes we went our own ways.

I drove home in silence (yes, 3+ hours), not wanting to hear anything but the thoughts in my head. It was like a collage: pieces of the concert... thinking... musing. Driving can be like a meditation for me if I'm alone in the car, although I don't recommend 80 MPH on the Mass Pike as a habitual place of transcendence.

Before I knew it, I was back on CT-15, headed South this time. What had been an Enchanted Forest in the daylight looked a little creepier at night with the trees hanging over the road and no lamps above to light the way. I decided to go with it though since I was already in such an imaginative state. I wasn't really tired, but to ensure that I stayed awake I pretended the forest had been overcome by an evil villain, which threw it into darkness. I couldn't stop the car even for a minute or the spell would put me to sleep forever. As I was thinking this, almost on cue, a huge white owl swooped out of a tree and flew across my path, close enough to cause me to jam the brakes in reaction, but too far away to actually be in danger of being hit. He sailed in front of me and was gone in a blink. I broke my silence with "What the fuck?!" Then I laughed. For real. Out loud. Not only did I recently read in Tolle's New Earth book something about "One With Life" which I realized OWL is an acronym for, but if you look in the Medicine Cards owls symbolize magic, wisdom, clairvoyance, and an ability to see the Truth, even if it's covered up. Owls are awesome.

A little while later, while I'm still thinking how Disney-gone-evil the road looks, I pass a hotel in the middle of nowhere, and the neon sign claims it is the "Hi Ho." I laughed again, right out loud. Do you think dwarves are behind the front desk and maybe Snow White cleans the rooms? That was too funny.

I finally emerged from the woods onto the NY Thruway, and I swear it was like coming out of a fantasy and back to reality in every way. My mindset changed to one of "I just want to get home now" and the road was brightly lit and much busier even at 3am. I pulled over shortly after the ramp though to open the roof and gaze up at the stars. You can see so many more of them out away from NYC. I said a heartfelt thank you for such an amazing evening, but they just winked at me until I pulled back onto the road.

Not to ruin the mood, but I was almost on empty when I got stuck on the Tappan Zee due to overnight construction. Thanks to Jenn, all I could think about was her story of some kind of worm eating through the iron that holds the bridge up under the water (which is probably what they are doing construction for). The whole bridge shook every time a semi would pass on the other side. Thanks, Jenn! :P Fortunately we only had to wait about 10 minutes, then they let us through.

The last sparkle of wizardry I saw that night was after I pulled out of the 24 hour gas station. I looked to my left and there was a beautiful, HUGE, orange crescent moon hanging over the city. It was like the heavens conjured up a picture of Bella Luna for me since I couldn't hear it too well earlier. I would've played the song if I had it in the car, but I didn't, so I finally broke the silence with A Beautiful Mess instead. I pulled into the driveway as the final note faded.

It was 4am when I finally hit the sheets and I had to get up at 7:30 to go to work. I napped in the car at lunch to stay awake, and I ended up getting sick a few days later from the girl behind me at the concert sneezing and coughing into my hair all night, but...

It. Was. So. Worth. It.

Hey look, here comes the sun. Guess I'd better go to bed. Happy Mother's Day to all you Mothers out there! :D And a special Happy Mother's Day to Mother Earth because She deserves it. Make sure you remember Her today too.

Artwork by Jenness Cortez Perlmutter used without permission from American Meditation Institute, but I'm hoping a link will suffice. :)