David Crosby and the Sky Trails Band were incredible at Lincoln Center

              

              I saw David Crosby and the Sky Trails Band on August 11^th at Lincoln Center Outdoors.  It was the last concert of their free summer Americana series.  It was too soon to call it quits on the summer.  Here it is a couple of weeks later, I am writing this on September 2, Labor Day.  Summer is still lingering in the warm afternoons, although the days are growing shorter. 

              There was an opener, Anais Mitchell and her partner.  She won a Tony for the adaptation for her album Hadestown.  Interesting voice and yet she had some technical difficulties which were distracting.      

               It was a beautiful night in the city.  I bought my Icon discount parking voucher earlier and left work a couple of hours early to see the event. I assumed if I got there early, I mean how many older folkies would tread into the city to see Cros?  There were more than 700 in front of me, and I was there an hour and a half before the gates opened.  Gates opened at 6:30, general seating.  Slowly, we made our way up the block, through the entrance and I was in.  The place was already filling up, there were 3,000 seats, so I needed to move fast.  I saw an open spot in the center and asked a woman who was there with her friends, after a little banter she finally understood, I was speaking English and I wanted to take a seat.  I got up and came back with a beer and noticed the large head in front of me.  It was strange since the back of this stranger’s head, looked like the back of my head.  I was blocked.  Being six foot four or around this height; I am sure I have blocked many unsuspecting people who may have paid a good price to attend any concert which I also happened to attend.  I am aware of my height.  At the shows where I must stand, I try to make my way – most of the time to the back.  When I was younger, I was hands on the stage and wanting to get as close as possible.  I guess it depends on the artist.  By the grace of God a woman left her seat and a friend’s and I watched her tell another person, she had to leave.  I bolted and took a seat just as another guy was making his way.  Great view, saw the whole stage and enjoyed Cros for all of his worth. 

              The band was incredible; many CSN&Y songs were played.  A huge surprise was 8 Miles High, from the Byrds.  One of my favorite songs, and yet the crowd was calm, passive almost, unfortunately when the song Ohio was played, David tried to rally troops to the song, four dead in Ohio and yet the heart palpitations and gastritis was a little too much to weigh in on the chorus, disappointed, I saw Crosby look back at his band.  The bass player just shrugged as if to say, they don’t got it.  They are old.

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David Crosby is weathered and sober today

7/17/19 21:52 Bethlehem, PA

I left work early on Monday and drove into Manhattan to see a documentary on David Crosby, Remember my name.  It was hosted by NY Times, Cameron Crowe, who conducted the interviews with Mr. Crosby, as well as the director, AJ Eaton and Melena Ryzik, a music/cultural journalist from the Times sat around David Crosby.  I have to say the movie was very good and yet, it was a shame the others from CSNY were either not present or were not interviewed for the movie, but as Crowe mentioned, he thought it was better to keep the movie on the main subject, David Crosby.  This was my first journey into the city from Bethlehem.  I was not sure what to expect and lo and behold it took a little less than two hours.  Left at three and pulled into the parking garage (East 61^st) at 4:55. It was hot in the city and I wanted to find a cheap place to eat.  I’m on a tight budget and the night was already expensive, I don’t want to say what I paid for the ticket, but this was a gift to myself.  I found a cheap place, ate and walked to the theater and waited in line.  The event was sold out.  There are only three hundred seats in the place and once inside, I sat in the third row, between two men who each used the arm rest, the one to my left took his right arm and plopped it down and the one to the right took his left and plopped it down; so I sat there during the movie thinking what do I do with my hands?  I can rub my mouth, scratch myself, and put them in a sort of pray full pose.  I know what you’re thinking, who gives a shit about your hands tell me about the movie.  It was very good, insightful and I felt the movie caught David Crosby in his highs and lows.  Now he is 77 and having to get out on the road to pay the bills as he said.  Eight heart stents and diabetic.  Scenes of him testing his sugar level and injecting himself with insulin back stage. There were stories about The Byrds, touring, clubs, childhood, Jim Morrison, Joanie Mitchell, Mama Cass, CSN concerts, women, drugs and sex and his dick.  Maybe not in that order.  Here’s a secret, on August 11^th Cros is playing a free concert as part of Lincoln Center free series in NYC.  I intend to go.  I want to see him perform.  It may seem ironic, but as I was driving back to this place, I realized on July 22, 2017 I was kicked out of the house and still went to see Graham Nash who played at The Landmark in Port Washington and now almost to the day, two years later, I’m leaving Crosby back in the city, in the lights fading in the rear view mirror and pray for his continued path in this life.

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Fourth of July 2019

7/4/19 11:18

Sitting in the back yard at my parent’s house.  Last year, on the fourth, I was living in Northport, down near Crab Meadow and paying too much for a small room in a cottage, but I was close to my family.  My parents were only five minutes away and three of my children, out East on Long Island in Port Jeff Station.  They were in the house that Ali and I rented.  The year before we celebrated the fourth in the Adirondacks.  It was our last vacation we took as a family, and I wrote about it in the blog. On this day in 2015, we flew back from California where we spent a week on vacation.  The year before on this day, my son had the courage to tell me he was bi, Joe was eleven at the time.  Life moves on and like a dream or a circle - we evolve.  Another analogy will be a river that carries remnants of soil and stones in its rolling water, pushing forward and dropping off what it carries in different parts on its journey. 

I’m living in Bethlehem, PA and I am engaged to a wonderful woman.  Ali is doing well on her own, having purchased a house and settling in.  This all took place within the past year.  On July 22, Ali and I will be separated from one another for two years.  A lot has changed in our lives, but instead of a general statement, I am grateful for the transition.  I battle with loneliness, of not waking up and seeing the kids in the morning or being a part of their daily lives.  I battle with the distance and yet while I was on Long Island, we would only see each other on the weekends.  They have their lives.  Yet, I am discovering more about myself and discovering love, strength and compassion. 

Joe graduated high school this year.  I was at the graduation ceremony and the week before, took pictures of Joe, wearing a beautiful dress and high heels, as he set off on his prom with his date.  For his graduation, I drove four hours in rush hour traffic from New Jersey, where I had a meeting that afternoon, but I made it.  No air conditioning.  Feeling light headed and frazzled, I stood behind the stands and looked down at the field and watched as my son sang with the high school choir - for the last time and watched as he walked across the stage, in high heels, to receive his diploma.  Afterwards, I walked down to the field and Joey gave me a big hug, you made it, he said.  Joe had a legion of friends come up to him and hug him, he was and is very loved and respected in most of the community.  Amanda was there from Boston and we hugged.  She looked amazing and wanted to get a family picture together.  Emma Tess, my quiet warrior, hugged and yet for my youngest, the pain is still fresh, Bella kept her distance from me.  It is alright.  She needs time and I will respect her space.  No family picture. 

I drove back to Bethlehem after the ceremony and once again the loneliness and sadness kicked in. My family were headed back to their new house and continued their lives as normal without me. Traffic was lighter.  It was night.  I spoke to Meli on the ride back and she said, what a wonderful father I am. I try to be.

   

I try to live in the moment with gratitude and live a life of integrity.  Like the river, I carry certain stones and stories and will discard of them, left to be in their places in the past.  I will move on through this life, discovering for the first time another realization.

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Flying over the Gulf of Mexico (Flight 921 JetBlue 5/30/19)

I can taste her breath in my mouth

It’s dry as dust and seeks to sleep

We’re flying above the Gulf of Mexico, stirring above clouds

She does not speak English and I barely know her Aztec language

I am reminded where I am when the jet shivers in summer gusts above the earth

Like a jolt of eternity

I will make love in another country

In a hot room, in the daylight

I’m zooming in with so much speed

Even the clouds appeal for stillness

Will Tebow be back?

4/30/19 22:13

The Iron Pigs are the local minor league baseball team in Allentown, PA.  They are the AAA affiliate for the Phillies.  Last Monday, the AAA team for NY Mets.  The Syracuse Mets rolled into town.  There was more excitement on that chilly Monday night since the one and only Tim Tebow is playing for the Mets.  At 31 and after a stint in the NFL, Tebow has been struggling at bat this season.  Last I looked he was batting a measly 124 or something.  Maybe it is the cool weather since Tebow played football in Florida?  Word quickly spread around the stadium, Tebow was not starting.  I toyed with the idea to call it a night around the sixth, but I hung in and Tebow came in to pinch hit.  Wait, he’s not hitting.  It was something of a gift for the dozens of Met fans who wanted to see Tebow, yes, including me. I was impressed with the size of the man and the chants from the crowd who wanted a glimpse of Tebow. I snapped some pictures.  So, I'm happy I waited, my attitude was let’s see what the kid has.  I read two of his books and was not really impressed, he has a great, never quit attitude which is one reason why he is still playing baseball instead of football.  He is a strict Christian which for most of us is impressive. Never drank, smoke, drugs, premarital sex, doesn’t cuss, loves his parents and his family and Jesus.  Who doesn’t love Tebow?  I watched grown men peering into the dugout for a glimpse of the man, is that him?  So what did he do?  He struck out.  Looked at one sail into the catcher’s mitt and was called out. He looked back at the ump and maybe Tebow forgot his poor batting average, you don’t show up the ump unless; you’re a star?

Coca Cola Park is about 15 minutes away from where I live.  It’s a clean stadium, seats are close to the action and I was impressed with the advertisements, the banners, the flames which shot out from steel pipes each time an Iron Pig run came in.  I will go back again, Even when Tebow is not there.  It's a great park to bring the family.  The fans are very cool and passionate for their Iron Pigs.  From the looks of it, Tebow may not be back.  Who knows, the season is still early.

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Living in Bethlehem

4/13/19 17:18 Bethlehem, PA

Around the corner, kids, coaches and parents are at a track meet.  The air gun pops before each race.  It has been popping all day.  Some runners are venturing around the neighborhood.  I went out for a short run, past Moravian College, onto Main Street and up a small hill, passing stores and shoppers who are out, taking advantage of a warm April day.  I took a different path on the way home and passed some nice homes that are for sale.  After my run I walked over, and sat in the stands to take in a few races.  Sitting in the peaceful and private back yard.  Birds are chirping, a neighbor is woodworking in his garage and I watch him stay focused on his craft.  Looks like a dresser or fixing drawers for the kitchen.  Another neighbor was picking the dead skin from her feet, while sitting on her back stoop as her dog with a curly tail exposing a dehydrated anus, sniffs around the back yard.  It’s the first Saturday, the first full weekend in Bethlehem.  I am living in a new place and very happy.  I’ve been going out, well so to speak.  I attended an open mic night down at the Ice House.  Maybe tonight I’ll walk over to the brewery and get a beer?  Last Sunday, I attended church, met a couple from Long Island and afterwards the husband, Dave and I went out to brunch.  He is a good man and I look forward to getting to know him more.  The guys in the house are easy going and I can see us getting along for the next few months.  My goal is to buy a home in the area.  The car insurance in Pennsylvania is cheaper, which means, I need to register my car in the state.  It may require a Pennsylvania license and an allegiance to the Phillies.  Perhaps later I’ll check that out on the DMV website.  Overall, I am in a good place.  I didn’t think the move up here would be difficult and it wasn’t.  There’s still boxes of books to retrieve.  The distance between my parents is not too bad and the kids are fairly close.  While I was married, I imagined what it would be like to live on my own. There are bouts of boredom, but there are chores to do, work to get done, I can write or read, there is a lot I can do and yet I would like to spend some part of the day relaxing in front of a TV, watching a movie, taking a break from the world.  One of the roommates, Tom asked me if I had any plans, nothing really.  Maybe Tom and I will go into town and get a beer.  Maybe I will take a nap.  I am kidding.  I fell asleep earlier while getting some sun.  It was splendid.  It is Spring.

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If my parents are senior citizens, what does that make me?

4/6/19 10:20 Ma Pa’s house

I was going to get out early and get in a run, but there was fog and I felt it was better to hold off for a couple of hours, at least till the fog diminishes.   I’ve mediated for 20, read some articles, but felt it was time to write a blog.  I know the fog will dissipate since Dad has shared with Ma that the sun is supposed to break out of this, and it will be 60 degrees later this afternoon.  Earlier, he shared how the birds are eating the bread Ma put out for them in the yard.  This is their lives.  Each morning, Ma sits in her spot in the dining room, close to the single window, overlooking over the back year and reads. I’ve noticed she does not finish most of the books she starts.  They are collected on the love seat in the living room since they make the journey from one room to the other. The books are waiting for her hands to skim the paragraphs, and she will fold some pages or underline a segment which strikes her.  I’ve learned to release any books to her and watch as they are abused under her literary impulses.  When I came downstairs this morning, she was surprised I was awake.  It was not too early; it was 8 AM which is late for me.  I know the mornings are a sacred solitude to her, the privacy of the house, the ability to be alone and listen to Family Radio, the volume not too loud as to wake up Dad, but enough to listen to Bob Cooke and his daily message.  Her hearing is not the same.  These are the daily routines of my parents.  One day leads to another in this house and not much changes unless one of us makes a visit here.  They go out for their walks, sometimes separately, Dad drives up to the high school and walks the track.  Ma drives to Crab Meadow Beach and walks the short boardwalk there.  They sleep in separate rooms since Mom explained, Dad gets up too much in the middle of the night to pee.  My father is older than my grandfather when he died.  When we were younger Ma brought us to Dublin a few times and one of my clearest memories is sleeping next to my Granda. In the middle of one night, I was woken when got out of bed, and pulled out a bucket from underneath the bed and pissed into it.  The loud stream and dew drops against the plastic could have woken up the house.  For Granda, the bucket was easier than getting to the toilet; which was down the creaking stairs, through the kitchen with the chilly floor and was outside - in the darkness and chilly air. Sort of an outhouse.  But back to Ma and Dad.  Since tomorrow is Sunday, Ma will get up around the same time, but instead of reading she will begin to get ready for Mass.  Her hair will be in plastic curlers, that she spread out in rows, and she will have her morning focused around the fact that she has to leave at 10:00 to get to mass.  The church is at most a 10-minute drive, but this is their routine.  Dad will take a separate car.  They meet each other in the same pew, the last one on the left in the center church at St. Anthony of Padua in East Northport.  After mass Ma buys a bean burrito, but Dad wants to get home to read the paper, both Newsday and The New York Times.  Ma will eat and may go up for a nap since getting ready for mass takes a lot of effort.  She’s amazed how much I can get done or will plan to accomplish in a day.  And just before closing this out, I notice the sun light on the curtains in this room, Dad was right, the sun will break through.  Time for the run.

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