The Other Side, The RNC, and The VMA's. Issue #66

Last Sunday I stopped by the Fremont Farmers Market on a brisk morning with the family. It had been a while since I had been to "The Center Of The Universe" for a reason other than to play at one of the area's clubs, and for once it was nice to be greeted by smell of pastries and coffee instead urine and beer.


I always try to stop and look at the vendor art not only cause I like it, but because I'm sensitive to the cause since my Mom has done the same thing for years. It's a tough living; the days you make a good sale are almost as many in number as the days you sell nothing at all. Still, what I've gathered from her and from my own experience is that the connections you make with people from all over are a big part of what makes the hard times worth while. I stumbled across a woman selling "Pillow Monsters" (cute trendy couch art), and upon scoping out her tent further discovered she was was a psychic/intuitive. Now, up until this point I had never sat down for a reading in my life but not for a lack of wanting to. Most times I see readings available they're for a staggering price of $85 on average for a 1 hour session, and every time I decide it's ultimately not worth it. This time I was told the price was $15 for 15 min. and took her up on her offer. What intrigued me first about this woman was that she didn't have the "look" of what pop-culture would tell us a psychic looks like. She looked like your average REI Mom and when she described what she did there was no theater and was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. This was what she does, what her family has always done, and how she made part of her living.

Fair enough.

She and I walked over to her table at the back of the tent, sat me down, and had me hold out my hands for my "initial" palm reading. Before we started my session the cynic in me thought I should survey my "situation". I was dressed pretty non-descript, and was confident that I wasn't giving away any "tells" that she could read off of. Hitting the timer she stared at my hands for a few seconds, looked up at me, and told me things one right after another that she couldn't have known any other way than the fact that she had a gift.

She told me that my parent's were divorced when I was little, and that a huge line between my right index finger/thumb was a "damaged line" as a result of that and subsequently having pneumonia and other illnesses very young from being an upset little guy. She told me that I had a little brown dog (no hair on me) that was one of my best friends and with whom I had a very strong connection. She told me I was a songwriter and that I had always "done that" in every one of my past lives; that when I got my first guitar at 13 I knew that was the thing for me. I found myself shocked and obviously unprepared for the experience; for someone who didn't know me at all to tell me so many things completely true about myself. Still, it wasn't creepy in the slightest. She had the aura of being completely confident with what she was telling me, and her relaxed demeanor put me at ease in my initial discomfort. For the next 13 minutes she continued to tell me some other things that I'm not going to list here, but know that it was a very inspiring and emotionally rewarding experience.

I've told a few people about it since then and what I'm met with 70% of the time is laughter and immense skepticism. That's understandable. I get it. I honestly don't even really have my final thoughts on the experience dialed in yet, but I'd by lying if I said I haven't thought about it every day, a couple times a day since then. My partial conclusion is that though true there is a world of scam artists out there, it is equally true that there is a world that we know nothing about. A very cool experience that I would recommend to anyone who has any interest at all...


On the other end of the human spectrum of coolness was last week's RNC Convention. Before you throw up, I assume if you're like me you're sick to death of the coverage, and also if you're like me there's a 1000 other bloggers who can write about it better. That said, I'll make it brief. People don't like being lied too. People are smarter than they are given credit for. People aren't scared anymore. The big win of the RNC Con? "THE DAILY SHOW" is becoming one of the new 7 WONDERS OF THE WORLD. Can you imagine being a writer for a show that never has to worry about a lack of material? I can and I dream about it everyday...


This weekend was the showing of MTV's 2008 VMA's. I, a lot my musician friends, and friends in general have given up on MTV but for some reason the VMA Awards hold a place in my heart. For a skinny kid with big rock dreams growing up before the internet age, it was the place where I would be able to sit and watch live performances/interviews with parents; where I could could show them a piece of who I was. My little sister, baby brother, and my parents would order pizza, sit down for a night of amazing live performances, and wait for the inevitable comment from my Mom, "O.K, I feel old...I don't know who half of these people are!" Eventually, that would become "ANY of these people!" I specially remember the summer ('93?) where I was heavily into two bands on the polar opposites of mainstream music, COUNTING CROWS and GREEN DAY. I listened to "August and Everything After" and "Dookie" RELIGIOUSLY and freaked out when I realized my heroes would actually be performing and my parents were going to see who they were despite my months of ineffective description. Their performances KICKED ASS as I would sit cross-legged in my Green day t-shirt with braced mouth agape in rock-god worship. I remember looking back for their approval; wondering if their minds were blown as much as mine was. I remember telling my sister to SHUT-UP during the solo lest I miss a magical moment that I would have to blame her for forever. Don't get me wrong, a large part of the awards have always been crap but the difference now is that I no longer see MY heroes at the event. These are other peoples heroes and thus is natural order of things. I'll never see R.E.M. deliver an alternate version of "Drive" again, or have the opportunity to be exposed to NEIL YOUNG via a jam with PEARL JAM on "Rocking In The Free World". This is the stuff that raised me and it's sad to know it's time has passed in the eyes of today's network programmers and show producers. I'm not ready to quote my Mom's "I feel old" declaration yet, but after watching the awards I feel the current pulling me that way. But then again there's always next year...

Before I go please notice the "Followers" link on the top right panel. This is a new feature that Blogger recently posted, and I would appreciate it if YOU would add yourself to the list. It's nice to know who's reading and let's me get a view across the other side of the fence. Thanks. :)

KS