Loren's Musical News & Ramblings

According to the San Francisco Chronicle, Jerry Falwell has issued a fatwa, er, boycott, of places like Target that - get this - don't say "Merry Christmas" enough. And has the audacity to claim that failing to do so constitutes an attack on Christianity as a whole.

I say "horse hockey." Give me a couple of truckloads of that, and I'll grow excellent vegetables.

I was raised Jewish, on stories of five thousand years of oppression, the Holocaust, etc. When people were throwing Christians to the lions in Rome, that was an attack on Christianity. Having uniformed officers going around to people's houses and breaking in looking for members of your religion so that they can be imprisoned and/or killed, that is an attack on your religion. Having people deny you the use of public facilities, vandalize your home and place of work, that can be an attack on your religion.

Not saying "Merry Christmas" enough? Oh, please! Find a real issue, willya? Go feed, clothe, and house the poor from the millions you make off your TV cash cows.

I think we should tell Mullah Falwell that if he wants to live in a religious dictatorship, he should move to Iran. I have no problem with Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson having whatever relationship they want with their God(s). I just don't want them to shove *their* faith in *my* face.

Hey...maybe I should just wander around wishing everyone a happy feast of Mithras this year? :)

Whatever you celebrate, I hope it's happy.

Well, I'm home again. Had a lovely time in Key West. The folks there did an incredible job of making us feel welcome in spite of all of the cleanup and other issues they had to deal with.

The cruise I played on was wonderful. The Western Union was damaged by Wilma, so we went out on the America - the schooner after which the America's Cup was named. Let me tell you, walking those decks and playing sailing songs like "Son of a Son of a Sailor" and "Southern Cross" was stirring. And the people were wonderful to hang with.

I think I got enough vacation. On my last day or so, I was making lists of things to do when I got home, and I've been in a mostly fantastic state of mind ever since I got back. Given the chaotic nature of this year in my life, I know I needed the break and the rest.

I actually stayed in rather than do the Duval St. Crawl on Friday night. It was a working rest; I wrote the first draft of a new song that I'll tell y'all about later, when it's a bit better-baked.

I wrote about a song and a half, plus taking down lots of notes for other songs, while I was in the Keys. Now that I'm back, I'm going to have to see how much treasure comes up out of my subconscious over the next few weeks and months.

I played at an open mike/jam in Fremont last night, at Mission Pizza. I've gigged there before; they're doing mostly bluegrass bands now, but I may be able to create an opportunity to play down there again sometime. The open mike was hosted by Autumn and the Fall Guys, a bluegrass band that plays mostly on the Peninsula. Very nice folks, with some very good music. We all got on famously, and may try doing something together sometime.

I didn't have to work today - company holiday. Nice to have another day to catch up in. I started sheet mulching my first garden bed at my new house this afternoon. I need to go out and get more stuff for it, maybe tomorrow. It's great to have landscaping I can *play* in, make the changes I want and not have to worry about leaving them for a while.

Here I am in Key West, near the alleged southernmost point in the US. I arrived here yesterday, after driving south from Ft. Lauderdale.

Signs of the passage of Hurricane Wilma are both subtle and obvious, depending on where you look. The most widespread effects are on the trees that have been stripped of foliage and the signs that have been blown out. Most billboards along US 1 are empty. There are boats in places where no boat is supposed to be, and utility trucks and dump trucks are everywhere.

The piles of debris along the roads tell a profound story. Many of them are, as you might expect, composed of branches and palm fronds. But way too many are piles of appliances, mattresses, and furniture from motels and people's homes. And a disproportionate number of *those* piles are outside trailer parks, telling me that those with the least to lose probably lost the most. Again. Still, most of the Conchs I talk with say it's the price of living in Paradise.

Regardless, it's absolutely wonderful to be in Key West again. The chickens seem to have managed okay; one just crossed Truman St. outside the window where I'm typing this. I wonder if anyone ever asks them *why*...

Anyway, I'm off for a day of fun, frolic, and letting other people do the entertaining.