Walk Of Life

 

I turned another year older this month. My partner and I went to Fitzwilly's and had a casual but fun time together. I had a few more shows to play after I finished my caroling gigs, and now the weather is back in the mild 50s, so I went for another of my many walks.

It's truly a beautiful world we live in, and I try to remind myself of that every time I step out and do my usual mile or so stroll. It gives me peace of mind and a little time to stay living in the moment. Important to remember as we trudge through winter and into another new year brimming with uncertainties around the world. 

It's Only Talk

 We saw some great concerts this past year, as we often seem to do. This time around was especially memorable.

 Pixies in Mansfield (I will always call this place Great Woods) Seeing The Pixies play in Massachusetts is the best way.

Pretenders at Tanglewood (My personal favorite, as Chrissie Hynde has piled up a huge amount of great songs. She didn't even play "Brass in Pocket" which is arguably her biggest hit. Didn't matter)

 Violent Femmes  at the Pines Theater Florence, MA (the show I saw most of my friends at, and one of  the closet to home)

PJ Harvey in Boston (great show, but a traffic/parking nightmare... thanks alot, Post Malone!)

Soul Coughing in Boston (took the train in this time!)

 

Beat: The '80s King Crimson Tribute in Hartford. (surprise second favorite concert, back in the city I saw my first rock concerts)

Might As Well Sing

 

Storrowton Tavern 2024

18 years of singing Christmas Carols with one of the people who had been at it way before I started. 

(it may have been one of her first jobs ever)

Life goes on, and people do different things with their lives, but friends stay friends and after several years, we performed at the Storrowton Tavern in West Springfield, MA where it all started. I only have one more show here for the year, so this was a one off, but I always enjoy coming back, and making people smile during the holidays. 

A House is Not a Home

 Last month, I woke up and checked my phone for messages, like I usually do. I'll often make coffee, come back to bed, put on my reading glasses and see how the day might unfold. I received a note from someone I didn't even know, who sent me a picture of a pile of splintered wood, along with the message

"your former house"

Needless to say, I was a bit shocked. 

Although I had very little sentimental value attatched to the house at that point, I lived in it for over 15 years until I went through a divorce, and then spent the last few years trying to sell it, as I was soon living with my new partner, and had no interest in keeping what was an old fixer-upper in poor shape. The person I ended up selling it to had just been part of a big rehab project on another aging cottage in the association, so I had hopes that they might finish the job on mine, but they seemingly ran out of money and simply moved in and started tearing things apart without doing any type of construction. It was a sad development (or lack thereof) and the new owner only lasted a couple of years before he was evicted for various reasons. The next new owner let it sit dormant for several months, and I had a feeling that something was going to happen.

Back when I still was the owner and sole resident: I had very little to do when I would show up, other than collect mail, and make sure the pipes weren't frozen during the winter months. A few of the local cats in the park would come say hello. I ignored advice from people who said I should keep the house as an investment, because I knew that it was too expensive an undertaking and a complete tear down would be in store for the future. I was sitting on a footprint that was more valuable than the house itself.

and so it would come to be, 4 years after I sold it and moved out for good. In its place will likely be something grand and refreshing to see, instead of a decaying symbol of my failed marriage and an empty safe haven. Looking back, I had run out of places to live in New England, and the Valley was my idea of the happy home I had been longing for ever since I fled Boston in the early '90s. When things were at their darkest, I was completely alone and scraping by to keep up with the mortgage and heating bills, while staying optimistic that things would eventually turn around. So I don't miss all the work I put into something that was not meant to be, although I'm glad I made it work long enough for me to safely move on, when it was finally time to do so. 

Fall Feels (Part Four)

 

A week after first discovering this new to me bikepath, I was back for more of it!

This time, I explored the southern half of it, in the town of Cheshire, and riding alongside the Cheshire Reservoir, with peak Fall foliage in the background.

The relection off the still waters and clear blue sky made for even more colors to come out.

I encountered something very cheesy near the center of town.

I managed to bike all the way north to the spot I previously turned aroiund from last week, so the majority of the path has been done. I probably did about 3 miles of the 7 mile rail trail. Really about the prettiest I have ever seen. The hills of Western Mass are a sight in the fall.

Fall Feels (Part Three)

 Went for yet another stroll past the cornfields and down the hill to capture some foliage pictures.

The neighborhood looks wonderful this time of year.

at the beginning of my walk, I saw this huge cloud on the horizon, and back home I spotted a flock of geese flying over the house.

Fall Feels (Part Two)

 October has settled in, and with it Fall Allergies.

I feel like Migraine Boy

But it hasn't stopped me from my Fall activities, which include biking new trails.

The Ashuwillticook trail runs from the center of Adams and goes all the way to Pittsfield. That was way farther than I was willing to go at 3PM on a chilly day, but it was still pretty, and a pretty good workout, as I went into the neighboring town of Cheshire and back.

I almost made it to the center of town and the Cheshire resevoir, and could see the part that drains into the Hoosic River.

 The fat tires on my hybrid mountain bike make it fairly slow going on pavement, so I turned back, and set my sights on another day to explore the southern half of the bikepath. But it was a good run on a very nice route that runs beside the river all the way.

Fall Feels (Part One)

 

Another summer has passed by watching the seasons turn while walking these paths. It's incredible to watch how fast corn grows, and then it's all gone! So much of it becomes a barren, muddy field. I watched a pair of kestrels today. Yesterday, a hot air balloon was in the distance near the holyoke range.

There are runoff streams that empty into the farmlands, and also a small kettle pond that empties into a swamp that feeds Bloody Brook. 

The trees in the distance here are the section where the wetlands are, before it flows under the highway and into town.

All of it ultimately reaches the nearby Connecticut River, and the Mill River that ends in Hatfield VIA Whately.

 

  

Nothing's Shocking (until it is)

 

I had tickets to see Janes Addiction in Bridgeport this week. That show did not happen, thanks to Perry's meltdown a few days earlier in Boston. My partner and I were lucky enough to see them two years ago at the Garden and it was a great show, so I had no resevrations about seeing them again, especially since original guitarist Dave Navarro had returned to the lineup after dealing with long COVID and had to sit out the last tour.

We are such big fans of the group that we put together a tribute set of their band a few years ago.

At the show two years ago, it was clear that lead singer Perry Farrel had lost a considerable part of his upper vocal range, but was still managing his way thru the material without going for most of the high notes, but this time around it seemed like he was having a harder time with it and it was taking a toll on his mental state. 

Most shows on the tour went fine, but midway thru, Perry was having trouble remembering lyrics, when to come in, and rambling in between songs while consuming a good deal of red wine. I'm not one to critique a singer for drinking onstage, but if you are having trouble singing, red wine will usually make that problem worse. I would suggest lots of water and maybe a little something on the side to help loosen things up if needed. I'm not that much younger than Perry, and I can tell everyone, it gets harder to sing songs I used to nail in my youth. But I took vocal lessons, until I felt like I had become a trained vocalist, and I was taught how to take care of my voice with warm up routines and various bits of advice. I'm not sure if Perry ever did those things (maybe because the band was young, broke up when they were all young, and he was so natually talented that none of those details were needed). 

Nothing prepared me for the incident that took place in Boston, though. I was under the impression that the tour was going well, but afterward, I started reading rreports about Florida and New York City being a bit off. Now I'm just concerned for Perry and his well-being. Music lives forever, but people don't. 

I wish I could help the poor guy.

Staycations

 

Tried to take the Canalside bike path, but never made it to the canal. It was still a pretty ride though.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was playing over the weekend, so we made it a "Family Night" so to speak.

I had a couple of weekends off for vacation, but didn't travel very far. Allergies have been kicking my ass all over the place, so I'm glad I didn't have to sing, or do much of anything. I feel better now though. We went and saw The Beths at Treehouse, which was a great show.