Comment away, Heathcliffe. Brotha, I can hardly wait. My muckin’ theory, if at all applicable, probably more applies way back to the birthings of state and local legislature more than oh say Forefather Congress, but it looks to have evolved all the way to the Toppermost by now. Those...who also discontinued Cobra benefits to future folks like us podunks who once broke through the ceiling on good lovin’ and pro-active precocious-ness alone. & far too much of the smoke & mirrors we see now everyday hoorayy it makes it very difficult to explain America to the progeny in a way that endears them to American History and the individual nobility of climbing the leadership ladder to assist in national deliberation, etc. They just roll their eyes. & from our..um..heightened state of uneasy reality, my country ‘tis of thee has become a particularly tough nut to crack. ..So take, you mongers, and just take & take … and we will give and give and we’ll just go ahead and give.

(Sigh) What we can use, maestrobros e maestrosistas, is those who can surmise and talk about it in articulate (or sometimes melodically creative) enough ways to keep the `we` attention of those who would take an interest, yes, ..yes madams & sirs, but what we really, really, need is people beyond MERE words, effervescent people with the courage and wherewithal to picture a desolated country where protected oil companies and (war propped) supply & demand have run the cost of gasoline up to circa Ten Bucks perGal, and people outside the bicycle or Vespa commute can’t even afford to get to work or to treatment a half-a-tank away two three times a week, when truly remarkable alternative fuels are suppressed. Fuels we (who used to own Chevy pickups but let those excellent tools go for li’l high MPG people movers) would gladly rally the change over---convince the plastics & polyester & all miscellaneous petrol industries to retool their scud mixtures enough to allow for the Hecate Strait planktons to live while the rich still get richer, just not rich enough to pay even one percent less of one’s total yearly income than the lowest common denominator. If the middle pays 50% total taxation, then so should the rich. Then the pie in the sky won’t be quite so high and the pie on the ground can be eaten by the by.

And the money pipelines to the banks and MIC gather ye rosebuds while ye may, you got to know, any old century now, some o your fat must be got on the chopping block, ..there just isn’t enough pie slices for you, not enough little green houses and red hotels. Not enough in the community chest, not enough, not enough, not enough. & pharmacies with ads and supercalifragilisticexpealadotious disclaimers are way out of line in a benevolent sport/recreation/digital/woodworking/sex/arts & sciences loving civilization where insurers/gov run the cost up so far for medical care that lovely spirited Miss, Mrs., Ms. Cancer Patients can sit at a kitchen table and weep while a faceless administrator squawks a, "Sorry, ma’m, clearly I said NO, as of the grace period you are absolutely no longer insured! ..NOW is there anything ELSE I can do for U. If not, thanks for calling Cobra, we are happy to serve you, th’American community. Serve U a nice bowl of boohoohoo & itskidillyoatndote. ...Rock the Vote!"

So Whimsy Word-flute with a Beat, maybe doable, but action-hero with a vision & a supper-smart posse, I don’t know if that is the sort of man I am. Maybe forty pounds ago, maybe not. I sure don’t know. …Don’t think the latter, sometimes I imagine the former making headway from time to time with a handful o people we’d love to share the coastal workaday & play among the cooperative of Nina’s Artistry Communal Collective well after we all survive 2012. But the matter of the fact is I’m pretty-good with immediate single family issues of the day, living in service of this very thing, but BUT when even the greatest of all our minds are dying away every couple o’months, taking all that good information with them to the grave and beyond, how does any one man, leaning over the precipice to devolution, stand, take aim, n seize the day in hopes of seeing an America of We, the People, again in near perfect union with some munificent elders, brothers and sisters ..and touch the sky………

I don’t know what it is going to take/////////////////

Don’t really think it’s me. I’m more a doorknob than a key. I mean I used to think I had two good albums of music until realizing I was just too weirded-out by crackerjack bar crowds to get the ball rollin’rollin’, so we packed it in. It was the only thing to do. The stuff always sounded better in the family room anyway. Bummed Silvercat out because he was always m’ biggest fan, “Sing Tower Hill Soliloquy again, Dad, Mr. Applesauce.” & so it goes.

*You look at those who are TRULY talented & they earn every good energy. Every good thing they ever got for their trouble came at a cost to them. I respect that. It never ceases to amaze me just how truly gifted a whole lot of actors/songsters really are. & yet they get kicked in the pants....

Those songwriters who used to break big balls real badass back in the '60s-'70s-‘80s-‘90s, some did their research, really risked stickin their steely necks out while the rest of us ate, drank, and married, have all but vanished off the radio waves & shelves, found themselves a real good reason to be quieter & more comfortably numb; sometimes all it takes is one youngin’s smile or a cry-out from night terrors..& surely those dazing, lazing, crazy, hazy school days where if a mom &/or a pop ain’t there fielding the derision and other teacher and shit-student tilted clichés that can zap a big hearted heart away, the progeny are left to fend, to slip between the cracks & lend the fodder to the chaff that beats out the hope with a wet towel snap. WE have to be there everyday for them, to be the backup plan and good survival lessons and the tools to gather personal momentum to sometimes sink but often swim to the surface and find the sunshine ideas that propel a kid beyond No Child Left Behind to a place where a young New Renaissance human being finds “self and community.” & Maybe sum Civics too.

But no, we do so miss the lyrical courageous. That was what got us gathered 'round good fires. Sure it’s true a few have remained and a few newbies pop around from time to time, …but the secret handshake set has usurped quite a puffy-swollen size o the plunder-pie in the sky ..& if U din’t make the phase by the end o say those Clintonesque daze, you pert-much screwed the pooch, anyway, & if you DID cut a decent sliver for yourself and your beloved ones, THEN got blood-bit on the black holiday, & led up the big trip hallway into the bright stainless light of crispy white-smocked scientific demagoguery ..Well, then lots & lots wasn’t said about the marvelous costs ahead: “Just listen to this [studied disclaimer], we know you’re scared here, so sign there on the dotted line while we get you poked for the first few rounds. Always remember you can go home and die at any time.” Much Love, Dear Nurse & Dear Doc o’ the Circus of the World’s Greatest Three Ring Medical Care Facility & Art Wranglery. “Now, before you start puking into the chicken bucket over he-arr, meet your financial advisor to learn more about..other dotted lines. She works for the man upstairs---NOO! hahaha, silly, not Thee Man Upstairs, ...not directly.”