Each Saturday when I drag out the speakers I may have a moment when I think too much, but later I always have a moment when I’m really glad I did. I play as long as anyone is within earshot, then people come in and somehing good usually happens. It is an honor to be listened to and I am glad to be experimenting with all kinds of sounds and songs. The more people listen, the better I can hear.

I now keep a log now of just names and dates.
My memory was never impressive with names. Nor numbers, actually – or embarrassing moments, luckily. But lately I have been meeting people in my garden who I’d like to remember. Somehow the music that I play brings in a certain kind of people. Not strange, I suppose, but the good thing is that they listen and then the music flows.

The way I feel about it, music is like rainbows we all get to dance in. By listening we focus our attention to that which cannot be seen. We know the source of the sound, but not where the music is coming from. As a writer/recorder of music that is the wonder of it. Between the notes, among the rhythms is a dance in another world, that we can perceive together. Our bodies can feel it and we can move with each other – music travels all through the body and it talks to every cell on the way. Music to me is a form of touch.

And so we talk about things like that between songs on the weekend. People come in and allow themselves a break from anything else – then I play and talk a little or a lot. Anyone who can play can come listen.
The garden is open for the summer.

I’ll keep a log from now on.

Salutamus Los Olivos.

I think we should do a fund-raiser to fix his Ranchero and many I talk to like the idea. We could have it at the Crooked Path, perhaps Frank can drag his ChoCho BBQ over and we’ll have a party. But where is Warren? Would he like to keep on going with his age-old tradition?

I’m open for comments and ideas – that’s what this blog is about.
What do you think?
And where is Warren?

Bent

For the summer I have had the garden open to music most summer-weekends.
It is an on-going experiment, and great moments of strangers coming together has happened on my watch. Musicians on vaccation, local pickers, singers and shakers have stopped in, called by the music – as the smell of bread baking in my hometown would bring the early-risers to the shop, so, too did the music wharft through the streets of Los Olivos. Those thirsty for musical notes, those hungry for etherial sustinance came to visit and listen. I was grateful for their company.

Since music only exists because someone is listening, those sitting in the park, obscured from my view were also appreciated. Sometimes we would hear a cheer or applause from behind the starkade. In the garden, named The Crooked Path I passed out shakers and bells to many walking in, and was surprised how many cold actually hold rhythm.

It’s a great town, even if Patrick’s dog always barks at me.

Next, more music.

Best wishes for all…
Bent.

There is nothing to do about it, and no need for action. In fact we think it’s good for everyone that way.

Welcome.

It is a noble thing to be willing to risk your life to protect others. It should be a respected position to be a policeman, but I don’t see how this is possible any more when he is asked, nay told to go collect revenue for the state for any good reason. A ticket for not wearing a seat-belt, for dropping cigarette ash onto the pavement from a moving car – things like that – is ridiculous. Anyone knows it.

I asked a judge in traffic court, Solvang, if there was an emphasis on giving more tickets to make money, and he admitted openly to this. To me, a good cop is one who sits in the landscape and keeps an eye on things. His aim is to have things go smoothly where he is and he looks for drivers that “stick out”. If someone zig-zags or speeds past the flow of others, the good cop flags them down and sees if they are OK and safe to drive. He’ll let them go with a warning if he thinks that they are on his side, or throw them in jail if he finds they need to learn a lesson. The good cop is a fine judge of character. He can tell if people are lying, but he doesn’t assume it.

If I were a cop, that’s how I would want it. “To Serve and Protect” sounded pretty good to me when I first heard it. Is that how it is now? – or is more “To Collect and Serve”?

Policemen, Sheriffs, Highway Patrolmen have a serious job to do looking for bad guys, really dangerous situations and to be available when disaster strikes. That is what they are trained for and that is what the community has hired them to do. I, for one, am sorry they are being told to be tax-collectors often under the guise of “protecting” us from ourselves. When the public cannot trust the motive of an approaching officer, respect is only founded in the fact the he carries a gun. We obey. We avoid. We dislike.

What also adds to the chasm is overt callous behaviour, such as racing through a quiet town full of people, animals and children at unsafe speeds. Our (click here to see the video) webcam caught the fourth ‘first reponder’ zipping through Grand Avenue as if Godzilla was two doors down and about to attack. Apparently some officers had trouble with a fellow out by the highway. Perhaps their Tasers had run out of batteries, I don’t know, but they must have radioed for help in such a way their colleagues put the general population at greater peril that the perpetrator himself.

Again, I ask: Can we get back to “Protect and Serve”?

I plan to create a music sanctuary in the garden, a place where original artists (such as myself and friends of mine) can perform and those in town – visitors and locals – can attend, bring picnics, food, wine & blankets for a most pleasant afternoon.

It will not be a commercial venue, we can serve nothing nor offer bathrooms. Folks can get a boxlunch from restaurant, sit at a table or on a blanket in the grass. They can go across the road, play a game of Boccha, mosie around the park, come back. No doorman, no charge. Naturally, tips and contributions to the musicians most likely will be gratefully accepted.

Details to follow. Was it Goethe that said “Life without music would be a mistake”?

Naturally, were I to smoke and sell sardines from my toolshed – and you, the reader, lived downwind next door – we may have some problems, but today most “business from home” happens on computers or telephones and does not require trucks coming and going or anything fowling up the air.

I have not used the word “should” very much lately.
But it seems to me,
That one should not be penalized for finding a way to make a living where one lives.

If it hurts no one,
If there is no pollution,
and there can be community and harmony.

While it may be against the law
It is not a crime to live and work.

That’s just an oppinion.