What dreams may come ~or~ I really need to watch those midnight snacks...

For the past two hours I lay awake in bed, haunted by a dream. In it I stood before a congregation in a church from my childhood long gone and spoke in a voice I never knew I had.

At the pulpit I spoke about the horrors of gun worship and an out of control military complex - where we spend more than the next five developed countries combined - and kill from afar; justifying the countless civilian deaths as justified collateral for the one target among them. I spoke of the disgrace of having the most citizens incarcerated and the greatest deficits between those who have, and those who do not.

I pleaded the case of Ben Franklin and his wise words about sacrificing freedoms for security when I talked of how we have let the TSA and the NSA walk all over and disgrace the Constitution and The Bill of Rights. And I asked them all, in this age of progress and enlightenment, how could we be proud of ourselves when the most we can say is we can destroy the world many times over from a single submarine?

The congregation - obviously as confused as I was about how and why I was up there speaking to them, sat stunned and murmured to themselves as I slipped away, across the quad, and to the gym to check in with security while the charity basketball game was just getting underway. I laughed with the chief as we saw one celebrity insist he enter the gym being bear hugged by his body guard. And, while I tried to discretely change into a kilt in the back corner, two older women started asking me about how to get to the music festival. So, instead of giving into my growing annoyance, I smiled and led them around the back hall, past a stage strewn with kilts and band equipment and off to the reception area.

As the dream started to fade I caught site of myself in a window, now having affixed my kilt. It wasn't any tartan I had ever seen, before. It wasn't even plaid. And as I saw how different I looked I started to think about that little gold card in my wallet.

Obviously this is a truncated version of how the dream actually went. And, I have to wonder, under what authority would I be to give such a speech, to begin with? The church, as it was, is long gone; however there is a new church built on it. It's one I don't recognize as well, these days. As much for my separation from its teaching as much as its physical form; though my blood line is mired in it.

Yes, ever inch of this is steeped in symbolism; I've been going over it for the past two hours. I imagine I'll continue going over it the rest of the day...

Iron "Fanboy" Chuck

On the heels of an "interesting" attempt at a scifi conversation last Thursday night with some younger fans comes twenty six random facts about IronChuck's fandom:

1. Batman was my gateway drug into the wonderful world of comics. So much so that I sought out the very first real Batman comic I ever read; Detective Comics #395, "The Waiting Grave" which I discovered in a pile of comics in a mountain time share on a family sky trip when I was eight. Some day I will own that issue, and proudly display it at Grand Central.

2. I really, really, really gave the new Battlestar Galactica a chance. Really, I did. But it's old school for me; the new stuff just doesn't do anything for me.

3. It took me three seasons to start not liking Star Trek: The Next Generation. So much so that I stopped drinking my favorite tea - Earl Grey - because of all the obsessive nerd crap at cons with guys drinking it. (Yes, I once heard someone order it at Wondercon at the coffee place. Yes, he actually said; "Tea: Earl Grey. Hot".)

4. Looking back, Daredevil is actually a good comic book movie.

5. I started watching Doctor Who in 1981, when I discovered it during a PBS pledge break late one Saturday night. And I stayed an avid fan up until - but not including - Tennant's last year. My favorite Doctors are Peter Davidson and Christopher Eggleston.

6. I worked at a comic shop in high school.

7. I saw all three Star Wars films first in the theatre. (Star Wars I saw as a second run in 1978, but Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi I saw first run.) At one point not only could I recite the scrolling intros, but, if played the scores, I could tell you what was happening at that exact moment on screen. I still own my original copy of George Lucas' paperback.

8. When I was a kid, I was a DC kid; never had much taste for Marvel. Today I couldn't care less for DC, but the Marvel movie 'verse is pretty compelling.

9. I was near ground zero for the Japanese invasion of comics and cartoons. Back then, if you were lucky, you could find a sub-titled tape; otherwise you had to read a plot synopsis in a fanzine. When the first wave of translations hit by Studio Proteus you could say I was a very happy geek, indeed.

10. I have an autographed copy of Stardust. Just Neil Gaiman, though; really want Charles Vess', too.

11. It's taken my thirty years to really appreciate Stan Lee.

12. There was once a time when you could throw an overnight bag in the car, take the drive to San Diego, walk up to the door of the convention hall, and get a day pass to Comic Con for that day. Of course, there was also a time when Comic Con was about comics...

13. I have beaten Mertroid in one sitting without using the infamous "Justin Bailey" code. (And those of you who read Galactic Gun may have just made a connection.)

14. I have, on many more than one occasion, participated in an all night RPG session. My experience includes, D&D, Champions, Star Wars, and the Palladium system (Under more than one title.) I have played a ranger, a star hopper, a vigilante super hero, a private detective, a cyborg, and even once as myself.

16. I have attended every Wondercon from the third one until Comic Con stole it from us. Bastards.

17. I had a table at A.P.E.

18. I was once recognized at a Renn Faire as the creator of Galactic Gun. (Yeah, sure, the guy thought the art sucked, but loved the writing.) No, my feet did not touch ground the rest of the day.

19. Speaking of which; I have performed at Renn Faires for six years in a comedy stunt troop. Yes, that included actually swinging a sword in a choreographed routine.

20. The original Star Trek is still the best Star Trek.

21. I used to customize my G.I. Joe figures. This would include stripping and repainting, as well as scratch modifications that would utilized parts from models and the old parts box in our family garage. In a freak accident I once drove a screwdriver through my hand trying to undo a rusted back screw on a figure. Panicked that my dad would take the screwdriver away, I wrapped my hand in a towel and went to bed early. To this day he does not know that.

22. My first subscription was to Heavy Metal magazine. I kept them hidden in my closet because I was worried my mom would find them and think they were porn.

23. Yes, I did have a Slave Leia fantasy. Guess it makes sense what with Han Solo being my favorite character; besides the droids, that is.

24. My video game prowess came at the height of the golden age of video games; the era of the arcade. There isn't a single console in the world that you kids have today that will ever begin to come close to that experience. Sorry.

25. I have never been able to reconcile why Automan's car did 90 degree turns, but not his motorcycle.

26. The first season of Buck Rogers is really good. Not so much the second, though.

Living in the Land of Plenty; California and the American Indian

While the myth of the “California Dream” has been as persistent as it has been persuasive to the modern dreams of America, it's certainly not the first or only time that the region has been thought of as a paradise, or land of plenty. In fact, as argued in California: An Interpretive History, its most original immigrants, the Indians, saw it as much more. And, in fact, the idealness of the land, later to be known as “the sunshine state” was, at its heart, the true ideal of paradise.

It's hypothesized that the first immigrants to the area arrived nearly some 15,000 years ago; the ancestors of who we have come to know as Californian Indians. Over the course of that time, the various peoples that had come to inhabit the land, spread out into nearly all its vast, and different regions. In turn, each of these peoples developed off shoots of language and custom that would grow into unique aspects of that particular sub-culture. And as they grew into these surroundings, and into their specific cultural division, they learned to cultivate the natural resources of that area.

This wasn't, at first, well understood. early anthropologists categorized Indian populations into either

hunter-gathers or agriculturists; either they followed the seasonal migrations and harvested what simply bloomed, or they planted haphazardly, often into mud deposits that were created by seasonal rains. However, according to the reading, modern study has revealed that Indians promoted bio-diversity through crop rotation, weeding and pruning of fields and stock crops, and even some level of animal and insect husbandry. Geographer William Preston even noted that California was “one of the most altered pre-colonial landscapes in the Americas.”

From the numerous of well-manicured plots of tobacco, elderberry shrubs, and other various trees near villages, it's easy to see that the Indians of California had come to manage the abundant natural resources of the land. Acorn, probably one of the most abundant food sources in the area; which could be made into bread, or a form of porridge. Where not as available, as in desert regions, mesquite pods often took their place. Fish and game were reliable and plentiful throughout a good portion of the year, and meats could be smoked, or dried, to last through the winter season. At the coasts, shellfish would become the mainstay of an Indian's diet.

Location, of course, was everything. What was available in a particular area, and how the people learned to depend on what was there, tended to determine where a people settled, and about how large a settlement would be. For the most part, these settlements would range from as few as one hundred in a reasonably decent area, to as many as five hundred in areas where plants, animals, and other raw resources, like wood, were more plentiful. Usually consisting of allied families, these numbers were maintained to keep in balance with existing resources.

Managing of these resources came from as much an understanding of the land, as it did from a reverence for the land. Historian Edward Castillo notes that “the religious beliefs and traditions of the Indians of California teach that the blessing of the rich land and mild climate are gifts from the creator.” He goes on to point out that this reverence is expressed “by carefully managing the land for future generations and by living in harmony with the natural environment.”

Often, as it is in the case of Neolithic peoples in a tradition of oral history and storytelling, tales would be passed down, through the generations, warning of the dangers of excess; greed and waste could lead to disaster and ruin of the very world. In trying to keep to this sense of balance, Indians would work to attune themselves to the land. They could track game from the mere sound of herds and single animals, and were very familiar with the telltale signs of the coming of the seasons. In their traditions they even believed they could communicate and influence their environment through speech and dreams. In this they worked to make themselves one with the land.

It's a fairly easy conclusion to draw from the success of this methodology; this philosophy, just from looking at the sheer numbers of Indians believed to be living in the regions of California. While numbers bounce around, generously, it's reasonably believed that between 300,00 and 3250,000 Indians lived within the boundaries of modern day California in 1769, when the first of the Spanish settlements began to be founded. In fact it is estimated that California supported a much more vast Indian population than any other are of the Americas North of present day Mexico. And all this accomplished without the use of metallurgy; as the Californian Indian was one of the last hold outs of the Stone Age – where use of stone tools and weapons still were the prevailing technology. The continued use of which was due as much to the region's isolation as it was that they had achieved such balance with their surroundings that development in that direction was nearly nonexistent.

With great reverence for the land, and its resources, the Indians of California thrived by careful utilization of the available resources particular to a region they were settled into. Geographically speaking, this came down to six major areas; Southern, Central, Northwestern, Northeastern, Great

Basin, and the Colorado River. Here, in these regions, they made the best use of what they had on hand, from acorn, to fruit trees and shrubs, and, of course, wild game. By attuning themselves to the various signs of nature, they were able to read, and plan for, coming seasons and manage their resources. One of the ways they did this was by carefully limiting the population of their village settlements; usually made up of kindred families. By living within this harmonious balance with the land, they came to view it as a gift from the creator; deserving of its respect and acre for future generations.

This, then, could be seen as their “California Dream”; to live prosperously in the plentiful and lush Californian climate, where they could live, thrive, and work to continue their balanced way of life for the countless generations to come. And, while the modern notion of the “get rich quick” myth of the state still survives – mostly in great deal to the perpetuated media imagine, it could be as much said that this is also at the heart of the modern Californian; to find reward for honest work, to live in balance with his community, and to provide for his family, and their family to come.

First Look: Stop! Look! Listen! Summer sampler

 

 

I know things have been very quiet, lately, both here, and at Neverland Transit Authority. There's been a lot going on; some good, and some bad. But, believe me, all for the better. That's not to say that things have come to a complete halt, though. In fact, the wheels continue to turn, both here at The Conductor's Office, as well as Grand Central Station.

In particular it's been a very good year for collecting music. Too good, in fact. We've amassed so much music, at Station House Radio, that it looks like we're going to have to bust up the usual end of year sampler into two discs.

Yes, TWO discs.

And here's your first look at the NTA Comics "Summer Express, Ltd". Since we're still pouring over the hundred, or so, tracks that we're picking from, there's no song listings, as of yet. However, I can - as your Conductor - personally guarantee a fun and unique experience, as always.

The 2013 Summer Express, Ltd. should be available in limited quantity by July 26th. 

Californication; Red Hot Chili Peppers and the "California Dream"

There's this illusion that's sold to not only Americans, but of folks abroad, about the “California Dream” and how life here is about all dreams coming true, instant fortunes, and living the glamorous life. It's a scam; a false pretense that's packaged and pitched by the very heart of the entertainment industry.

As this industry has grown, and become more convoluted, more and more of those in it have begun to express the disillusion they, and others, have come to experience in Hollywood. Of those, Californication, by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, is probably one of the more masterful. Formed in the mid 1980's in Los Angeles, the band is no stranger to the twists and wilds of the music scene, and have expressed as much in many of their songs. Here, in Californication, the band puts forth, through lyrics, exposing some of the realities of what folks have come to believe is the dream of living in California.

One of the primary elements of the myth of California is its near exotic location; always envisioned as idyllic weather, beaches, and beautiful scenery. “It's the edge of the world /And all of western civilization/The sun may rise in the East /At least it settles in the final location” pretty much sums up this idea that California is the end all be all; the place everyone wants to be.

In his book, Scar Tissue, lead singer Anthony Kiedis says he was inspired by something he heard from a ranting lady in New Zealand, opening the song with “ Psychic spies from China/Try to steal your mind's elation /Little girls from Sweden /Dream of silver screen quotations”; referring to how wide spread this notion of the Hollywood myth is, across the globe – how invasive it can be. In many cases, it also goes to talk about how this romantic notion of life, adventure, and fortune have infected some's expectation of how life should just fall into place; much like a movie, or even a song.

This is perfectly exemplified in a bit of lyrics, written in the first person of one chasing that very dream, in Hollywood with “Marry me girl be my fairy to the world /Be my very own constellation” but goes on to reveal “A teenage bride with a baby inside /Getting high on information”; directly commenting on how the system can lead young and impressionable folks astray. And with the final line of this particular verse, we get our real first glimpse of what everyone who dreams of coming to the west coast has their eyes blinded by; “ And buy me a star on the boulevard /It's Californication”. Here we can get this sense that, while everyone comes here for fame and fortune, no one's really aware of how much hard work it takes, or how many fail miserably trying.

The term “Californication” is the blending of the state name, for which most attach the ideas of fame, fortune, and romance, with the term “fornication”; giving the meaning of prostituting the Californian life to create a form of marketing brand in order to make a profit. This is noted in the song with lines that end each verse, such as ; “ And if you want these kind of dreams /It's Californication”, and “ It's understood that Hollywood /Sells Californication”.

This notion, then, of glamor and glitz is exposed in the line “ Pay your surgeon very well/To break the spell of aging/Celebrity skin is this your chin/Or is that war your waging” is referring to the urgent need to look young and beautiful, and how its sold to everyone en mass; affecting the very way we see and perceive ourselves, and how we judge ourselves for and against it. The song revisits this, and really questions it with “Pay your surgeon very well/To break the spell of aging/Sicker than the rest/There is no test/But this is what you're craving”; bringing to light the very idea that, somehow, Hollywood has warped our ideas of beauty and self.

While the song does note how we're all colored by this ethereal image sold to us by Hollywood, who controls who is, and gets famous - “Born and raised by those who praise/Control of population/Everybody's been there/And I don't mean on vacation” - it also can't help but point out that, while it can be destructive, if you can keep your head and wits about you, then it's not necessarily an evil place; “Destruction leads to a very rough road/But it also breeds creation/And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar/They're just another good vibration”. Though there is consideration about how much we really need Hollywood and its fake dreams for sale; “ And tidal waves couldn't save the world/From Californication”.

Having been at the heart and center of the Hollywood music industry, themselves, for some time, The Red Hot Chili Peppers have been able to pull from a wealth of experience; weaving a lyrical tapestry that reveals, in its prose, some of the darker truths behind the notion of the “California Dream”, the myth of wealth, romance, and fame often promised by Hollywood. Giving us the hard sell, Hollywood has ingrained in the American people, and, to some extent, the world, this image of a good life, beauty, and success. In Californication, The Red Hot Chili Peppers peel back the facade, giving us a better look at the reality of this myth; broken dreams, wasted youth, and the desperate clinging to impossible ideals of beauty in a desperate attempt to remain hip, relevant, and noticed. Maybe even, in the process, trying to show how we can be enamored by it, ourselves.

The Dream and Myth of California...

What is the “California Dream”? As described by my English 1B instructor, Brian Lewis, it’s “the American Dream on steroids”. The prevailing idea is that California is, among the fifty United States of America, that here, in the thirty first state, and here alone, the ideals of opportunity and fortune thrive and abound in every corner of the state.

But, do they?

Offered, as example, are two select pieces of reading, for considering. In an excerpt from Nathanael West’s The Day of the Locust, we meet and follow Tod Hackett; costume designer for a small Hollywood studio. Tod was lucky enough to get scouted out and recruited to move to California while in art school. He considers how lucky he is to have been picked; as he’s not what you’d consider particularly a choice individual; “his large sprawling body, his slow blue eyes and sloppy grin made him seem completely without talent, almost doltish in fact.”

In Under the Wire, Francisco Jimenez retells the story of his family as they left Mexico to look for work in California; seeking the same fortune and luxury that they have heard about from people like his cousin Fito; who lived in near populate luxury with his “two bedroom house [that] had electricity and a water well.”

Of course, as you can expect, Under the Wire is the story of illegal immigrants coming to California to find

work and a better life. Why? Well, because California just is better than the poverty of Mexico. But when they finally get to a work camp, Francisco’s brother Roberto isn’t even sure they are in California because not only is it not what they’ve heard, but there isn’t even any work, yet.

And Tod in Hollywood? Well, for one, he wonders if, in pursuing his fortune, he hasn’t sold out his art as a painter; which was his goal to be, in art school. Not only so, but also even considers the ugliness of his new home, by the end of the excerpt.

The other important thing to point out is the age of these readings. The Day of the Locust was published in 1939. Jimemez’s stories, from the book The Circuit: Stories from the life of a Migrant Child is his retelling of his family’s arrival to the United States in 1947. How accurate can these tales be, against the idea of today’s California?

In California: a place, a people, a dream James Rawls points out, siting Nathanael West as one example that “California’s writers have often provided a counterpoint to the myth of California as the land of boundless opportunity, success, and romance.”   As he’s quick to point out, the mystique of California is built on the paradoxes of its promise and failures.

And nowhere is that probably more accurate than today. California wealth, the supposed lure of so many to the Golden State, is actually held by a small minority of its residents; most of whom either inherited, or simply built wealth through fast stocks and investments – the legacy of the dotcom boom and bust of the late 1990’s. California is currently tied for fourth highest unemployment rate according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. (8.6% with North Carolina) And that’s not even counting the amount of “under employed” workers who cannot find full time employment, or are forced to work for a considerably much lower salary than their predecessors in the same field; or their contemporaries abroad. Californians are also some of the most regulated and taxed in America; including fuel, property, and local sales taxes, as well as laws, statutes, and regulatory bodies in Sacramento, the state capitol. This ads to the already staggering cost of living that, to this day, grows more despairingly disproportional to the average worker’s income. 

Businesses have been also slowly moving to greener pastures, as it were. Companies like Network Appliance, Intel, and even Microsoft have either moved all their manufacturing to other states, or even countries, in order to save profits, rather than stay in California. And states like Washington and Arizona have gone to great lengths to make themselves more attractive to companies looking to relocate.

Since the gold rush of 1848, and through the 1850’s, California has been a land of “get rich quick”, more than opportunity. From Sutter’s Mill to the starlet dreams of Hollywood, more folks come here to get a fast grab at the perceived pie, than any actual opportunity. Nowhere is this better illustrated than the afore mentioned dotcom boom and bust of the late 90’s; when techs took off and investors flooded the new market. In their quick turnaround tactics of stocks and options, investors managed to over inflate the online economy, then pulled out with a quick, tidy profit; leaving the market to crumble. This was a cycle we would see, again, with the Enron scandal of the early part of the 21^st century, and then in 2008 with the housing scandal; which actually spread nationwide.

Biotech companies, like Genentech, were supposed to be the new boom economy. However, to date, that’s been more a slow steady ride than a new exploding economy. And perhaps that’s just as good, if not better. Because today the California myth is built around the boom/bust model of just a fraction of the state; namely the San Francisco bay area. The reality is that nearly 70% of California is actually agricultural; as it’s been since the turn of the 20^th century. And while the get rich schemes of the 49ers and the businessmen have come and gone, the farms and ranches of the central valleys have been going strong and stable all that time.

As Spooner points out, himself, in A New Perspective on the Dream, we can’t deny the lure of the images of starlets, romance, and the quick fortunes that have been had here; dreams that drew in the post war mid-westerners. But, where does that leave the supposed “California Dream”, today?

Most Californians, myself included, work very very hard to just get buy. Living here quickly dispels the fantasy of the bountiful land of opportunity. Home ownership is out of the reach of the majority of California’s residence; who must leave to more affordable places, if home ownership is a goal. Jobs aren’t as plentiful with job seekers more numerous than available work; when the work can pay enough.

That’s not to say that this state isn’t without its charms and culture. But the idea of the California Dream? Well, that’s more a myth, a relic, left over from bygone eras. With technology being what it is, and as available as it is, getting into entertainment – indeed, nearly any lucrative profession – is relatively easy in this day and age. And with the Internet and crowd-funding sources, like Kickstarter, building capitol and reaching target audiences no longer requires Hollywood or Silicon Valley. The California Dream… the myth… is no longer the “American Dream on Steroids”, but, instead, just back to a small part of the American Dream.

Sing it, Space Cowboy

A Guy Like Me

Don't be absurd, don't be too silly. But what's a guy like me to do?

Don't do that, don't get too edgy when all I want is to be with you.

There's something quite magical it's right there in your touch

And I'm feeling myself fragile that I'm wanting it so much.

When we've got to talking and I've got to see you smile

For that I'd go on walking another hundred extra miles.

And the way that you are seeing brings electricity to the air

It's the core of your being makes my heart give such a care

There's so much I could offer, give so much to see it through

If I asked, would you tell me; what's a guy like me to do?

Don't be rash, don't get lost in feelings. But what's a guy like me to do?

Don't charge in, don't be alarming, when all I want is to be with you.

I've been searching for some time to find the woman that you are.

Been hunting for the right rhyme, been looking so near and far.

Caught up in the magic of the everything that’s you

Your effect on me is seismic, and I know this to be true.

It’s something so strong, like nothing since before.

To this I want to belong, for here and ever more.

Want to fill my days, fill my life, fill them up with you

Help me to help you see me; what’s a guy like me to do?

If I told you softly what these things they do to me,

Would you take my hand and tell me just to let them be?

Draw me ever closer, maybe open up your heart?

Find that it could be from me you’d never want to part?

Flowers they will wither and gifts will fade away.

All I have are these words, and what they try to say.

But I will bring you those things, and still keep speaking true.

And I will conquer any mountain just so I can be with you.

Maybe this sounds all too silly, maybe it’s just too absurd?

I know I can be so forthcoming, in my earnest so awkward.

But I knew it from the first time, knew it with our first kiss

There’s not much more I’ve ever wanted; not much more but this.

When it comes right to it, what’s a guy like me to do?

And I just want you to know it; all the love I have for you. 

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Well, lookie, here; I done wrote me a love song...

Actually this was written, originally, in the hopes, first, of resurrecting an old love affair, but - when it became obvious that I wasn't going to be the one, it became just expressing how I was feeling. Must have been really in there, because I woke up with most of this already in my head.

But, it's also, I think, a really great expression of what a lot of guys probably go through, when they fall for that special girl; the thought processes of the insecurities we go through, and the want to stand out above all the rest. 

So, I give this to every poor guy out there looking for his heart's voice... 

City and Town

Ragged red roadsters roar down the road, Glass eyed marbles travel in auto mode.

Landscape twisting shadowed street gray, Can’t hear the words the melodies say.

Herding their flock the great boards yell, Making your wants vibrant, they sell.

This is that they just want you to see, Given for take they devour currency.

This is the city, this is the town

People here and there, everywhere around

Up on the sidewalk, out in the street

The waves of the faces never you’ll meet

Pounding a beat, their feet to the ground

Living in the city, living in the town.

Cathedral halls thrust out ever so high Could they would they scrape the sky?

Stacked and towered these walls the mold Blinking lights say they do as they’re told.

No more space here, it left in the Fall Run out the limits when no growth stalled.

The flood of the masses likely to drown No venting, no egress, could there be found.

The bramble the ramble of out stretched hands They’re reaching and clutching from broken lands.

Climbing twinkle lights want to hypnotize On the corner wannabe black robes moralize.

An echo a din of harmonic cacophony, From choirs and boxes no way to see

A pulse to which can be put no finger, Rhythm with no rhyme destine to linger.

This is the city, this is the town

It’s towers and temples all way round

Surrounded by its high heights

Dwarfed by all their might

Washed over by the echoed sound

Living in the city, living in the town

Where are the hills, where are the trees?! Get me out of here, someone help me please!

Closing in on me, why won’t let me breath!

Towers built on hills made of shaky ground? Battered by the roars, by the constant sounds!

I need to go, please why won’t you show me how?

Everywhere it’s there, everywhere I see! Every place I look on top of the scenery!

I think I’m being swallowed whole!

Because this is the city, this is the town

Pressing over people, pound upon pound

It’s a living, eating thing, buzzing with electricity

Show you so much gonna make your eyes scream

Pull you under, make you  gonna drown

Living in the city, living in the town

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Even though today I make a couple trips a week into San Francisco, when I first ventured into the city, at the tender age of eight, I wasn't as really impressed by the sites as I was terrified by them. Having never been to any city before, I was more taken back in shock. Actually, I had a panic attack styled melt down.

Needless to say, it wasn't the most pleasant adventure for my then young mother.

Today I actually enjoy outings into what is one of the most iconic cities in the world, and look forward to the many sites and treasures it waits for me to discover. But, I've never quite forgotten the fear of that little eight year old...

Somewhere

When I was a little boy all I knew where simple joys.

Laying out in a field of grass letting all the time go past.

Then I saw a jet’s escape, got me thinking of my fate.

Was I trapped in this here town? Could I ever move around?

Can I ever leave here for there? Ever going somewhere?

Take me to a distant shore,

Places I ain’t seen before.

Let me breathe a foreign sky,

Climb a mountain oh so high.

Walk across them foreign lands,

See the dunes of distant sands.

Will you take me far from here?

I wanna go somewhere.

Places seen trapped in books I've always wanted to have a look.

Pictures dropped on worded page, characters on bright lit stage.

And as I go from town to town, never much for settlin’ down.

Other settings I want to see, other places for me to be.

Can you take me away from here? I wanna go somewhere!

Wanna tread the distant snows

Of other places no one knows.

Beneath the strangest canopy,

See the forest through the trees.

Watch the dance of twinkling lights

Underneath for off starry nights.

I’m gonna leave here for there…

I wanna go somewhere!

Don’t get me wrong, I love my home. I just sometimes get this need to roam.

Have a map or plan? Not sure I care, as long as I end up going anywhere.

I could ride on a roaring train. Or take a flight in a soaring plane.

But I am so small, and I want to see it all. I can’t miss a single thing.

Around the world in eighty days?

I could do it, you’d be amazed.

Round the horn on a great big ship?

Sign me up, I’ll take that trip!

Wash in waters of an exotic lake?

That’s a journey I want to make.

From ancient palace I’m so tall

At the top of its mighty walls

In the markets and in the towns

That’s where I’ll be always found.

Back and forth and back again…

I’ll always go somewhere!

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 As long as I can remember, I've always wanted to go places. And not just to the store, or for a drive, but really, really, another place. The idea of things I've never seen, heard, or even smelled before totally thrill me in a way I just can't really explain. 

Currently, I've only managed to make my way around my own country; visiting a variety of neighborhoods, towns, and cities in various regions of the United States. And, while that's nice, and all, it's nothing like what I expect it will be to see an entirely different set of stars in the night sky, or towering architecture of another history, distant mountain forests with strange wildlife, or even bumping into alien faces in a market bazaar.

Maybe someday...

For the sound of Somewhere I hear marching snare drums, guitars, and maybe even a piccolo or flute. (Sure, there could even be a bag pipe...) This would be a high stepping kind of track that would encompass the feeling of adventure.