The Ballad of Coyotaceous G

An Apology

2008-05-12T06:38:13Z

With a warning of some brief but hardly gratuitous profanity, here's what it's like to fall

Some of you know I have the tendency to drop off the planet now and then. Usually I can do so without hurting anybody but myself. However, lately I have been a shitty person - a neglectful friend, a distant family member and an all around ineffective bastard.

Though I have good reasons for being withdrawn from the world, I abhor that I've brought hurt to those I care about. It's so hard to ask for forgiveness when it's impossible to say it's over, or promise that it won't happen again.

I have some important things I have to do, and I am going to go do them. I hope I can begin to go about these things with a little more balance and care. I hope that when I'm done, I'll know how to take part in my own life again. For now, I feel like I belong nowhere and belong to nobody, but I still owe you all the world.

I apologize to everybody, but most of all to the good people I am proud to call friends and family. You've been so generous and patient, letting me lean on you again and again. Give me a little time, and you can lean back again.

Meanwhile, may you be well, and may all be well with you always. Catch you soon.

Where wolf?

2008-04-30T16:58:49Z

There wolf. ...okay, it's actually a stunt coyote, but with a little bit of finishing in post, who'll know? Besides you, o faithful listeners.

Rule number one of handling stage lights: always wear heavy gloves.

We were a bit short-handed on the last day of filming. I wouldn't have had the chance to take any photos at all, if it weren't for Kigs doing everybody's job.

Happy Day!

2008-04-22T15:52:43Z

Hey, it's Today, and you all know what that means...

That's right, it's the birthday of my bestest friend--drinking buddy sans pareil, artobiographer, and model being--the incredible vantid!

So everybody out there raise a pint, paint your backside blue, and give whoop and holler for an occasion worth remembering and celebrating. Happy birthday, pal!

Here come dots

2008-04-21T18:19:08Z

Today I realized the difference between a diaeresis and an umlaut (not to be confused with a heavy metal umlaut). Things suddenly make much more sense!

More From The Roomie

2008-04-21T06:50:48Z

I promise those werewolves are still on the way.

Balance Cards

2008-04-20T04:58:42Z

Old friend of mine, haikujaguar, occasionally offers readings of the Balance Cards, a deck of her own invention which is meant to inspire thought and encourage expanded perspective. Her popular One Card Draws (see Friday's for an example)--a quick, free version of her non-free full five card reading--is the best way to get a taste of just how effective the cards and her reading are.

Due to my travel habits, sleep patterns and a fatal combination of sporadic industry and accidental laziness, I'm rarely around when she announces openings for the One Card Draw on her journal; however, the three readings I've been lucky enough to receive have without fail been the right words at the right time.

The draw she did for me yesterday is no exception. With deep meaning for me on several levels, the reading distills something important to its essence, and puts good words to that which has never been articulated. Though I won't expand my personal interpretation here, I've asked her permission to share her reading with you.

This card is a Cup! An empty Cup, waiting for beer.

That's the key. You're waiting for the beer. I suppose you could request or pay for a beer, but your Cup is empty so, you know... beer can appear without you having to do anything about it. If your Cup was full, no one could put any beer in it.

We fill our own cups with what we think we like. But then we never get to try the unexpected stuff people want to pour us. So keep that Cup empty, and wait for the new experience. :)

Thank you, haikujaguar, and thank you readers for sharing this moment with me.

Där dig choklad. Hvår dig spruce? Here, spruce spruce spruce!

2008-04-17T17:04:00Z

My beloved Bristlecone pines, previously thought to be the world's oldest living species at almost 5,000 years, apparently have some older cousins to look up to. This story reports that scientists in Sweden have found a spruce that may have been alive for over 9,000 years.

Än vandrar gudar över denna jord.
En av dem sitter kanske vid ditt bord.

The Roomie

2008-04-17T10:47:15Z

Small production, big ambitions--back to my roots! Heap scads of fun so far, and we haven't even gotten to the werewolves yet. Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion...

HELP WANTED

2008-04-05T15:01:56Z

Pursuant to a public art installment I'm planning for mid-May, I'm looking for three volunteers in the following disciplines: 1. financial/economic research and analysis; 2. design/layout; 3. publicity/marketing.

1. I need some hard numbers about the Recovery Rebates and Economic Stimulus for the American People Act (signed into law on February 13, 2008); I need the numbers crunched in several contexts and the results analyzed. Familiarity with U.S. economic policy a must. (probably 3 - 6 hours)

2. I'm looking for a designer who can create a b/w flyer to present some information in a visually compelling way and tie the design elements in with the art installation. (probably 2 - 4 hours)

3. I need somebody to help get the word out. Looking for effective use of press releases. This person will probably work closely with the designer as well, and additionally may be asked to assist in booking a venue and seeking donated materials/services in support of the art installation. (probably 8 - 16 hours)

The budget of this project is exactly $0. I can offer no pay, but we can talk about other forms of gratitude.

If you're interested in supporting this public art project, or would like more information, please comment (screened) or email Gatcat at his Gmail address; don't forget the dot com. Thanks!

Where Are They Now

2008-04-02T14:47:11Z

In 2005, UK's The Register ran a story about a Slovak man called Richard Kral, who, upon being trapped in his car under an avalanche of snow, drank the 60 liters of beer he'd packed along for vacation and peed his way free.

He's always been a bit of a folk hero to me, but when I tell friends his story, they'll occasionally question the veracity of such a feat. Once in a while, I'll search for his name to see whether he was ever debunked. No retractments yet, but I'll keep you posted.

However, my search did turn up this Richard Kral, also a Slovak. Judging from the extensive list of his social networking sites--he has more personal pages than I have bookmarks--he evidently wants to be found; however, I can find no mention of avalanches in any of his biographies (perhaps slightly complicated by my complete incomprehension of the Slovak moon language).

Even if he's not that same guy, he linked to a delightfully abrasive little piece of art which I will not repost here, for fear of riots in my streets, threats on my lives and damnations of my souls. You can ferret it out if you want and take all these risks upon yourself, as well as the danger of snorting your coffees out your noses.

Thanks to all the Richard Krals of the world for making it a more colorful place!

These battered wings still kick up dust

2008-03-31T20:07:45Z

Because dustmeat asked for proof that spring comes also to California...

One of a set of pictures from a hike with iisaw and kaysho through the hills outside Los Angeles, where (as the fencepost reminds us) just this last October a mighty fire laid all to blackened waste.

You can see a few more at my deviantArt page, along with expanded photo commentary and about a hundred other photos which have not all been in these pages.

Fall seems so close this year! Let's suck the marrow out of spring while we can.

The Visions of St. Gat

2008-03-31T13:42:24Z

Hey! I've finally made up answers to The Musical Gatcat Quiz from last week. Answers first; skip the drivel to see the winner way down at the bottom.

1. My music degree is in vocal performance.
FALSE. Though vocal performance constituted a large part of my long and uneven education, I never aimed for a degree and can only claim an honorary from the School of Very Hard Knocks.

2. If I'm whistling Mozart's Rondo alla Turca, I'm probably on my way to the bathroom.
I do not know why, but this is TRUE. Every time. Sometimes it pops into my head before I even realize that I need to go.

3. My advanced composition final, a lydian ballad in 3/4 time for tenor and piano based on Robert Herrick's poem "To The Virgins, to Make Much of Time," has only been performed once, for an audience of one. Though it was never turned in or performed for the professor per course requirements, the composition received an A.
TRUE. When I finished my composition, I sang it once to a young lady, who pronounced it abjectly lovely but soon left my life. I subsequently destroyed the piece. However, I had shown my professor several stages of the work in progress, and was at the top of my class in all other ways. I was so embarrassed for not turning in the composition I skipped the last two weeks of class. When I received an A on my report card, I visited my instructor to ask how he could possibly forgive my errant behavior; he said there was nothing to forgive, and that I had amply demonstrated my knowledge and ability during the semester. I wish all my teachers had been that cool.

4. Toluca Jake and the Lankershim Five started as a bluegrass band, but evolved into a big band swing orchestra before breaking up.
FALSE. Toluca Jake &c., while known to perform a wide range of material, has ALWAYS been about rock and roll.

5. I often hum quick musical cues based on what's happening around me.
TRUE. Sometimes I don't even notice I'm doing it; if I stop to wonder why a particular song is in my head, I can usually trace it back to something somebody has done or said. (Every single last man Jack of you knew this to be true!)

6. I have been flown to the UK to sing at a celebrity-studded wedding in Scotland.
TRUE. Okay, there were only three celebrities. Not one was a stud, and only one was studded.

7. If I'm whistling, I find it incredibly rude if somebody else begins whistling something else simultaneously. However, hearing whistling sometimes makes me reflexively begin myself.
TRUE. I hate this about me. I don't know why it makes me so angry; I also don't know why I find it so hard to control my own knee-jerk reaction. I guess for the same reason I have to whistle Mozart on the way to the can.

8. As a non-believer, I refuse to sing hymns or other overtly religious tunes.
FALSE. While I got no 'ligion, I kind of like some spirituals and old liturgical tunes. I practically despise Christmas carols, but I still used to sing them in a professional quartet with care and passion enough to bring listeners to tears. If you ask nicely enough, I'll also sing at your funeral.

9. My love for and study of classical music can be traced almost entirely to watching old cartoons.
TRUE. When I was growing up, my father played a wide variety of music, but heavy on classical. Later I began to seek out the music I had learned from Bugs Bunny cartoons, and from there developed a wide appreciation and knowledge of other classical music. My father recently revealed that he, as a boy, had learned to love most of HIS music from the same cartoons. Go fig.

10. I love music because it can sway human emotions beyond the power of logic.
FALSE. It is more correct to say I fear music because blah blah blah. Don't get me wrong - I do love the visceral impact music has on me personally. However, I can disassociate that reaction from the message in the music. Many cannot. (Nobody, not one of you, got this correct.)

THE WINNERS: It was a tie between ahsavka and learnteach! I was going to use the bonus question as the tie breaker, but since it's a trick question (the answer is "all of the above"), that didn't work. Then I thought I'd choose the winner based on who made the best prize suggestion. Well, they both appealed to my sense of aesthetics, one asking for dead stuff and the other asking to share some beverages. Tough! So I flipped a coin, and it landed on its edge just before lightning struck me twice and international terrorists ate my Wheaties and a shark bit me and you get the picture.

HONORABLE MENTIONS in the prize-suggesting category go to silverpaw who suggested I should compose a poem about the winner, and to kayotae for suggesting (and I quote) BEER.

Thanks to everyone who participated!

Quizzes are the curse of the LJ class

2008-03-29T00:23:45Z

Whoo! Fun gig coming up, keep me busy a few days. Slim chance I might not be around Monday, when I was going to announce the results of the Musical Gatcat quiz, so there may be an extra day before the polls close. But don't procrastinate!!

Go take a gander now. Ten questions, a bonus question, and YOU suggest a prize for the winner! Wheeeee. Won't take you but a minute: that's right kids, the Musical Gatcat quiz!

In other news, I think you're neat.

Hamilton's

2008-03-27T16:04:17Z

Man, I wish I were a San Diego local. Hamilton's Tavern in San Diego's South Park neighborhood has a fab craft selection, decent grub (although they claim it's organic and stuff), and THEY ALLOW DOGS.

Rock and roll.

Learning

2008-03-25T21:28:53Z

The glue that holds us together in any community, microcosmically and macrocosmically, is the ability to disagree vehemently yet still listen. Maybe we go forward together, nu?

P.S. This is NOT directed to anybody who might be reading this, but is nugget-wisdom extrapolated from today's conversation with a friend who doesn't even HAVE a blog.

P.P.S. I'm goin' fishin' with my pa!

Play Me

2008-03-25T14:54:04Z

Yellow Drum Machine from letsmakerobots.com. Nifty!

I clicked this link from starfallz's journal yesterday but got so tied up in work that I didn't get to watch it until this morning. And now I've watched it twice. The video's great, but take a minute to read the page as well--that little machine's got some fun tricks.

Tonight, I'll see what the rest of that site is about. (I'm guessing robots.)

Help the balladeer? I am the balladeer!

2008-03-24T15:53:24Z

kaysho's recent meme-poll-contest, wherein he listed ten alleged personal quirks in a true-or-false quiz, gave me inspiration to repeat the experiment with you loyal readers (and even some not-so-loyal-but-suckers-for-a-memepoll).

There are ten true-or-false questions about The Musical Gatcat. Some are true. Some are bogus. It's up to YOU to decide which is which.

Kaysho offered a prize, and so (like a good sheep) I should as well. I just haven't decided what yet. And so, as part of the poll, you should suggest one. If you don't suggest a prize and you are the winner, I will send you a small jar of jellyfish.

Contest ends Sunday the 30th at 11:59 p.m. Pacific. Comments are screened. Contestants may only enter once. I'll comment back during the week to tell you how you did, and announce the results on Monday the 31st.

Good luck!

TRUE OR FALSE:

1. My music degree is in vocal performance.

2. If I'm whistling Mozart's Rondo alla Turca, I'm probably on my way to the bathroom.

3. My advanced composition final, a lydian ballad in 3/4 time for tenor and piano based on Robert Herrick's poem "To The Virgins, to Make Much of Time," has only been performed once, for an audience of one. Though it was never turned in or performed for the professor per course requirements, the composition received an A.

4. Toluca Jake and the Lankershim Five started as a bluegrass band, but evolved into a big band swing orchestra before breaking up.

5. I often hum quick musical cues based on what's happening around me.

6. I have been flown to the UK to sing at a celebrity-studded wedding in Scotland.

7. If I'm whistling, I find it incredibly rude if somebody else begins whistling something else simultaneously. However, hearing whistling sometimes makes me reflexively begin myself.

8. As a non-believer, I refuse to sing hymns or other overtly religious tunes.

9. My love for and study of classical music can be traced almost entirely to watching old cartoons.

10. I love music because it can sway human emotions beyond the power of logic.

BONUS QUESTION (fill in the blank): My tinnitus is in the key of _______.

What should the prize be? ___________________

Sorry, emailers, but...

2008-03-24T05:19:54Z

...any email I get on Easter Sunday with "penis" in the subject line is prooooooobably not legit, and deeeeefinitely goes to the trash folder. If you are not a spammer and REALLY want to talk about penis, try again tomorrow.

Vin (extra)ordinaire

2008-03-23T05:27:45Z

"Hey, how'd you like that cabernet?"
"It's good wine, Gat, thanks! Really rich."
"Buttery?"
"Yeah, you could say."
"Maybe a touch of pepper?"
"On the finish. Even so, not dry at all."
"Kind of sweet?"
"For a red, it sure had legs."
"Hunh. Mine doesn't have legs."
"Isn't it the same wine?"
"Oh! Yeah. Well, it was..."
"Gat. What did you do to my wine?"
"I, uh, dropped my corn on the cob in your glass earlier."
"You bastard!"
"Can I get you another?"
"Just fill 'er up again. And Gat?"
"Yeah?"
"Give it a good stir with that corn."

Uh suh puh ring is here

2008-03-21T16:18:18Z

Since leaving my standing stones behind in the woods last fall, I've been a little out of touch with the natural motion of things, but I'm told that yesterday was the vernal equinox. From what I hear from many friends, it's heralding change in more than just the season. A lot of personal movement out there: some indubitably toward the positive, and some where only time will tell what the tales don't seem to. It's hard to divine the true course of things when your only connection is through a computer screen.

As easy as it is to misunderstand one another in person, online it's like falling off a log. The very words that have evolved to help us convey facts, concepts and emotions to our fellow language-speakers can, in black and white and without eye contact, seem to say something entirely different than the meaning we believe we've invested in them--and we won't even know it, possibly until it's too late to correct the impressions they've made. This is as dangerous for those of us who speak uncarefully as it is for those of us who listen inactively, or understand inaccurately. If you as a speaker are aware that your words have been taken out of context, you can work with the listener to correct the impression until you've achieved mutual understanding. If you never find out, the misimpression can be a ticking time bomb.

I take a certain amount of pride in being a good communicator, both as a speaker and as a listener. I try to choose my words carefully and put them in a good order. If I hear something that doesn't jibe, I like to ask for clarification. If I hear something offensive, I try not to be offended until I've had the chance to understand what the speaker's true intent was; usually, it's a misunderstanding, and a quick discussion sets it right. The benefit of the doubt goes a long way.

With the majority of us, good communication is a simple matter of following that simple formula: say what you mean in a manner that helps the listener understand your meaning. Results vary widely depending on who's sharing the communication.

There are some of you I've met with whom two spoken words easily replace a hundred: we share a similar communication mindset, perhaps, and--whether or not we agree--we nonetheless understand one another almost before the words are spoken.

And some, like one of my dearest friends, exist on a different communication plane altogether: we both speak English, but our individual approaches to conveying meaning vary so widely that often it seems we're speaking two separate languages. But we have identified this, and we know that we're prone to misunderstanding one another, and so our conversations contain many more questions and clarifications than the norm. Speaking with her is no less enjoyable for that; in fact, often I find it helps me sort my thoughts in new ways.

There exist still others with whom I have found it is nearly impossible to communicate effectively. No word can be said but that it has some meaning to the listener that is unimaginable to the speaker; no word can be heard without it being suspected of a deeper meaning beyond its face value. Conversations in these conditions are like fencing blindfolded, naked. Certainly thrilling in its own way (especially if you like bleeding pointlessly), but when the conversation ends, there's no way to know what was really conveyed.

For the curious, this note is prompted by a recent occurrence; an old friend with whom I have longstanding communication issues has decided not to bother trying anymore. Our conversations almost invariably fell into that last category, even if we didn't always realize it at the time. Because miscommunication built on miscommunication, things grew exponentially worse over time. Though at one time we were best of friends, it seems improbable that the wounds of past sparring matches will heal enough for words to mean what words should. It is with some sadness and some relief, and even some sadness at the relief, that I give in to what seems inevitable and let the winds carry us apart. And so things move on.

Through the window here I can see all manner of new life hurrying to rush into the sun--trees all in bloom, brilliant green on usually dead and rocky hills, the baby crow screaming in its nest--and my heart runs with the spring. Even as I'm moved by nature's path of rebirth, I feel it within myself, and as a sentient being, I have a certain amount of control in how I choose to grow.

With a little sunlight, a little rain and a little luck, perhaps I'll someday stretch myself to truly understand why I fail to communicate with some, and--even if it's too late to rescue the past--come to an understanding with more people in the future. I owe it to myself not to allow miscommunication stand in the way of keeping good friends. Insofar as it is in my power, I shall strive toward the positive.

Thank you, Spring!

Coming soon: photos, backpacks, and a poll!

News!

2008-03-18T10:33:54Z

Fielding your recent letters, I notice a growing trend suggesting that we here are not giving you the whole story - this despite our "Choose Your Own Gatcat Adventure" agreement where your generous sponsorship allows participation in guiding my daily affairs, overarching travel plans and creative direction.

I reckon I've let you down on the latter count, and each of you knows just how you're personally doing on the former. But since I've gotten so many requests lately to open the polls again, I figure I'll have to catch up with you a bit and give you the foundation for making this PayPalocracy fun and effective. So, briefly, here's what's been up:

- I recently completed the first leg of my Baja To Calgary Walk, a fundraiser for shoeless coyotes. I paused briefly in California's beautiful wine country to reoutfit with fresh body fat and replace my worn out sneakers.

- Nearby, in the San Joaquin Valley, I kicked off the now famous awareness campaign for Barbed Wire Tumbleweeds, whose plight has grown to epidemic proportions. These free-spirited icons of life in the West used to roam unchecked, dancing lightly over dusty plains wherever the wind might take them. But modern fence technology has decimated the numbers of free-range tumbleweeds, who often end their lives against cruel barbed wire, packed thick and deep with their fellow captive tumbleweeds. For the campaign's first press event, fellow tumbleweed activist kayotae drove up to wine country and helped release a high-profile tumbleweed from its bonds, took it on a multi-city awareness tour and gave it a temporary press office near Los Angeles. I will be working closely with the tumbleweed in the next week or so, but then I must resume my walk.

- With some help from naturalist redstorm, gained exclusive access to an otherwise off-limits island (in fact, I'd go so far as to call it forbidden), where I managed to document hitherto unrecorded courtship activities of California wildlife. I will make my research available to the public by early 2009.

- I ate a bug.

That's the short version - if anybody is interested in reading more about what happened or in seeing photos from the same, please find the PayPal button below, and I'll reward your generosity with adventure, intrigue, polls (the more you donate, the more your vote counts!), free-roaming tumbleweeds and shoes for coyotes.

THIS PHOTO SPONSORED by the evergenerous skadjer, whom I met years ago at the Agnes Woodward School of Whistling where he graduated at the top of the class.

THIS PHOTO SPONSORED by three coyotes, a husky and a tragically neglected crisper drawer:

Looking Back

2008-03-15T17:42:13Z

Suus cuique attributus est error,
sed non videmus manticae quod in tergo est.
--Catullus (excerpt, poem 22)

HELP HELP HELP

2008-03-12T22:23:46Z

Hey Bay Area!

Who's got a fog machine I can borrow tomorrow afternoon?

I promise I won't hurt it.

Real Life Phone Calls, Chapter 73

2008-03-11T16:31:50Z

* ring *
"Thank you for calling Staples, this is Maybell, how may I direct your call?"
"Morning! Do you have a notary in the store?"
"Ummm, I don't know, I'll have to check. Can you hold?"
"Holding!"
* worst hold music ever *
"Sir, I'm not sure we have that. What kind of notary are you looking for?"
"What kind? The public kind."
"Public notary."
"Or notary public. Say, do you have it in pink?"
"I can check."
"Just a light pink, not anything too heavy. No Pepto."
"Okay."
"And if you have the smaller size?"
"We might."
"In boxes of 24."
"Please hold."
"Of course!"
* second-worst hold music ever *
"Sir?"
"You find me them notaries?"
"We're out. But we can place an order."
"That'd be right kind of you. Twenty four small, light pink notaries public?"
"They should be in by Wednesday."
"You willing to swear to that?"
"Sir?"
"Never mind. See you Wednesday!"
* click *

The Big Sleep

2008-03-10T19:00:09Z

Tequila ain't good
and it sure ain't bad
But tequila at a funeral
is the best and the very very very very worst I ever had.