All I want is the truth, just gimme some truth...

"I'm sick and tired of hearing things from
Uptight short sided narrow minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth..."
John Lennon-"Gimme Some Truth"


As a child, I was one of the few 7 or 8 year olds I knew that watched the evening news with interest. It was a fascinating time, even to a child my age, and I wanted to learn as much as I could about it. The Soviet Bear vs. The USA, the struggle of the Filipinos against Marcos, hostage crises in the Middle East, the Achille Lauro, the assasination of Indira Ghandi, the Soviet boycott of the 1984 Olympics, the rise of video games, an era in popular music that was like no other, the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Iron Curtain, Pope John Paul II, the fall of communism and the rise of freedom throughout not only Eastern Europe, but the rest of the world as well (sincere apologies for all the events I left out, I'd have a book)...I dare anyone to say that there was a more interesting and thought provoking time in history than the 1980's and early 90's. I wanted to learn it all. That hunger for knowledge also pushed me to the limit in history and geography classes in school as I aced countless tests and finished second in our school Geography Bee in middle school. World capitals? World leaders? Come on, give me a challenge, teacher! Current events? Easy. The religions of the former Yugoslavia? I thought you said this was a hard test! God, I wish I remembered a lot of that like I used to...getting old.

As I grew older, I still had a hunger for knowledge, but it just was not as strong as it was in school. Maybe because there was no more pressure to get good grades, the motivation left me. Or, maybe it was growing my hair and ditching my dork past, becoming more interested in the history of rock than the history of the world. Who knows...


I think I am more interested in the truth more than I am interested history anymore. I don't mean talking about lizard people and black helicopters, but just getting the straight story about everything from our news media, with no bias...on either side. Since none of the news outlets decide to give us the proper story, I decided to shut them all out and ignore them all. Since then, I have become more of a centrist, with both conservative and liberal views on events formed by my core values, my experiences as a father, a husband, a musician, and a man, and my religious values. In other words, divorcing myself from the chatterbox of cable news has helped me make up my own mind on more things, but not to the point where I don't rely on talking to others to see how I should feel on certain things.


Another downside is that I am probably the most out of touch with world events I have been since I was a preschooler. Sure, I know what's going on through social media, but there is more bad sources on social media than there are potholes on a Pennsylvania highway. So many sites with crap news on both sides of the aisle: HuffPost, HotAir, NewNowNext, Young Turks, NewsMax, The Blaze, Addicting Info, InfoWars, I could go on forever...Every person with an opinion and a video camera claims to be a news source and to have the truth on the issues of the day. Sure, I'm going to get my opinions from some dude sitting in his car filming himself with his iPhone, or some "news analyst" who says "fuck" while he is doing a report or a commentary, or calls someone rude names, or openly insults people who have *gasp*, a different opinion! Show some decorum.


Then, we have the satirists who are filling up the airwaves: Trevor Noah, Samantha Bee, Stephen Colbert, John Oliver, Jon Stewart. All very talented and very funny people who are good at what they do. You can't deny that. However, when you only pick on one side, you lose all credibility with me. When did Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert ever criticize a policy decision by a Democrat? If you can find me an instance, do so, and then maybe they will have some credibility with me. Go ahead, I'll wait...(I've made this challenge for years on social media, still no takers)

Didn't think so. You have to be willing to go for throats on both sides. It's called intellectual honesty. You cannot treat one side as the saviors of humanity and the other as the political equivalent of the bubonic plague. I'm talking to you, Rush Limbaugh. I'm talking to you, Rachel Maddow. Guilty as charged.


In all honesty, do we care more about the real story, or do we care more about winning? Kicking the shit out of those evil (insert name of political party here) seems to be all we care about. Act like the brave resistance when out of power, become the authoritarians when in power. Away go the Guy Fawkes masks and the Gadsden flags and out come the suit and tie. Goodbye Occupy, Goodbye Tea Party, we have the power now so we don't care about you little people anymore.


I don't watch the news anymore because I don't know who to trust or believe, who is right? Who is wrong? Who is giving me good information and who is just a shill for their ideology? What study is correct and which one is funded by the Sierra Club or the coal industry? All I want is the truth, like Lennon said.


It also doesn't help that many of us as citizens have taken the "Hypocratic Oath". We say one thing and do another. We talk about how corporations and technology are evil while lining up in droves to buy the newest iPhone or the newest tablet and while blogging on our computers. Sure, many companies have been guilty of bad practices and deserve to be punished for their actions, but come on, not every CEO is a caricature of the villans from Captain Planet, chomping on a big cigar and laughing as they dump radioactive waste into the river. Think twice on how that technology that you love so much got into your hands before you criticize corporations, or feel free to toss your smartphone and your computer into the trash compactor. Have we become afraid of achievement and success as a society? Why aren't innovators like Elon Musk and Steve Jobs not studied in school like Thomas Edison or the Wright Brothers? To borrow a phrase from Sebastian Vettel, honestly, what are we doing here?

Once we become more intellectually honest, truth will rule the day instead of opinions disguised as truth, and agenda disguised as research. News can become the armor of the republic like a free press is supposed to be, instead of a cheering section for Democrats or Republicans. And maybe, just maybe, Stephen Colbert can make a joke about Nancy Pelosi for once and Sean Hannity can give a Democrat props.


I don't ask for much. All I want is the truth, just gimme some truth.

Tempus Fugit. Memento Mori.

"If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the color of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay"
Sting-"Fragile"


Thankfully, I haven't had to dial 911 much in my life. In fact, I only dialed it once: September 3, 1998, to call the paramedics after my father's suicide attempt, which sadly ended up being successful. Frankly, I didn't see myself dialing it again for a while. Andrea, Lily and I are all in good health and we live in a fairly quiet area where nothing remotely violent happens.


We do, however, live on the side of a very busy state route, PA Route 114. Cars and trucks fly by at a decent pace past our house due to it being a direct route between Mechanicsburg and the commercial strip of the Carlisle Pike.

There have been many accidents on this road, due to several intersections that are not controlled by traffic signals, most of them down at the intersection of 114 and Mulberry Dr. Personally, I would rather bet my life savings on the roulette wheel at Penn National Casino than try to drive across that intersection. The speed limit on 114 is 45, but that is casually winked at by the people who use it as a daily route (I admit I do it as well, usually going 50-55 MPH on that stretch). Cars that try to cross 114 from one side of Mulberry to the other should try reciting a Hail Mary or an Our Father as they attempt it, because it is truly a miracle the Lord himself should take credit for if you make it over.


We moved into our home in 2013, and we always were concerned about our proximity to such a busy road. We are always very careful when pulling out of our driveway and we implore all of our guests to do the same. For 4 years, thankfully, no automobile accidents have taken place in front of our house.


At approximately 8:35 pm last night, that all changed.


Andrea and Lily were upstairs in her room listening to some music. I had just come upstairs from doing a qualifying session in my Formula 1 video game. I was lying on the couch in our living room, watching some old F1 qualifying laps on YouTube. I am a huge racing fan and pre-season testing in preparation for the coming season began yesterday, so I was whetting my appetite for some racing action.


BOOM! Shudder, shudder, scrape, and the sound of air brakes jamming jolted me up from my position. The impact outside made our house shake.


I looked out the window and saw a cloud of dust and debris scattered on the road outside and in our front yard. On the other side of the road, a late model silver sedan was smashed up, the rear of the car crumpled up like a crushed beer can. Strewn along the road were piles of clothing, paper, a pair of sneakers, and pieces of glass, rear taillights, and parts of the bumper. The sound that will never leave my mind was the sounds of screaming that came afterward. The people in the front of the car burst out of their stricken vehicle and were on the ground hysterically screaming blood curdling sounds of distress, anger, and fear. A few neighbors ran out of their houses to the car to offer their assistance.
Andrea said "What the hell was that?"


I answered "A massive accident just happened right in front of the house!"


I went upstairs to check on Andrea and Lily, and called 911. I informed the dispatcher of the accident, and he told me that he had recieved several calls about the incident and first responders were on the way. Andrea put on our coats and headed outside to see what was going on.


Within minutes, EMT's, the fire department, and Silver Spring Township Police were on the scene. The firemen started using the Jaws of Life to open up the back doors of the car, as there were two people trapped in the rear. Andrea and I watched in shock and horror. With that impact, we were concerned that the accident had been fatal. When we saw what hit the rear of the car, a tractor trailer that was stopped a few hundred yards up the road, the worst was expected. When a truck that size hits a passenger vehicle, it is the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. I crossed myself and said several silent prayers as the first responders worked feverishly to free the entrapped people from the wreckage.
 
Several neighbors walked into our yard from the houses behind us, and we all conversed and shared our concern and hope that everyone would be OK. One thing that has stayed the same through the ages is neighbors coming together in times of crisis. God bless that, because it still gives me hope that we have not become a selfish culture and that we still care for others around us. Eventually, due to the diligent work of the first responders, the occupants of the back seat of the vehicle were freed and loaded into an ambulance.


Andrea and I went back into the house, but the accident scene was impossible to ignore, with the bright lights of the fire engines illuminating the scene for the investigators trying to piece together the events that led up to the crash. I kept staring out the window like a wide eyed cat while Andrea and I comforted Lily and assured her to the best of our knowledge that everyone was alive and being taken to hospital. I know emergency responders do not care for looky-loos, but when bright lights are blaring outside of your house and part of your property is taped of by police tape, I'm sorry but I am going to keep an eye on everything that is going on. Besides, what if the police are looking for witnesses?


The accident scene wrapped up a little after 11 PM last night, and I have been searching in vain for news on the condition of the accident victims on the internet. If anyone who reads this finds out anything, please let me know. My prayers are with the accident victims and I am hoping they are OK and will pull through. The approximate location of the incident was the 100 block of Hogestown Rd in Silver Spring Township. Other than a post made by Cumberland County Fire Wire's Facebook page (a page run by an amateur police scanner spotter) at the time of the incident, there has been no updates. We are aware that Life Lion was called in to help transport the victims.


This was one of those moments that makes you realize just how fragile we are and how much danger we are in every time we get behind the wheel. Driving on the real streets is not a game of Out Run or Gran Turismo or Forza Motorsport, it is serious business. You share the road with many other drivers, some experienced, some inexperienced, some responsible, some irresponsible. You could be following all of the laws of the road and being so safe a driver that your grandmother would be proud, but all it takes is one bad decision by another driver to ruin your day in the blink of an eye.


A question: Would you feel safer on the road with your fellow drivers...

...or a race track?

For me, it is a no-brainer. The race track, for the simple reason that the drivers on the race track are all professionals. They are trained to drive a car as fast as they can. Most have them have been behind the wheel of a racing kart or a racing car since a young age. Fernando Alonso started karting at age 4! I would gladly trust him or any other racing driver behind the wheel. NASCAR legend Richard Petty has said countless times that he felt more at ease on a race track than on the highway with every day drivers. There are many licensed drivers who have no business being behind the wheel on our roads.


So, let my story be a reminder of how fragile our lives really are on the roads, and that you and your car are not indestructable. Be sure to be thankful for every breath that you draw while you are alive, and never forget that you could blink and your time on this mortal coil be ended.


Tempus Fugit, Memento Mori.

Trip To Montreal, Quebec, Canada (A lesson I learned)

"She calls out to the man on the street
'Sir, can you help me?
It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep,
Is there somewhere you can tell me?'
He walks on, doesn't look back
He pretends he can't hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be there
Oh think twice, it's another day for you and me in paradise
Oh think twice, 'cause it's just another day for you,
You and me in paradise, think about it"
Phil Collins-"Another Day In Paradise"


I'm taking creative license in my blogging about my trip to Montreal. Next post will be back to my destinations on the 3rd day. It is a wonderful city that I was very happy to have a chance to visit. I took many positives away from my time there. Yet, I cannot write about my journey without mentioning the first time in my life where I feel my life was legitimately threatened, and that happened in Montreal.


It was the late afternoon on the 3rd day, Sunday. Other than the hot weather, I was really enjoying my visit. I wanted to go to a store to get some Canada-unique food items to bring back home for my family and friends. The clerk at the front desk of my hotel told me of a nearby Provigo supermarket which was a short walk down Sherbrooke St, so I headed out to find some candy bars and coffee to bring back home.


At the store, I was able to find some Coffee Crisp bars, so I bought a few of them (and they are now my favorite candy bar), but I was unable to find any Mr. Big bars, so I wanted to head to another store to find some. After I left the Provigo, I walked down Sherbrooke St back to my hotel.
I mentioned before that Montreal seems to have a huge homeless problem. While I feel bad for them, and pray for them that their situation to improve, I think aggressive panhandling should be enforced as a crime. You cannot force someone to be generous to you, and many find it downright scary. I cannot remember for the life of me what street corner this was, but on it was a small public park that was full of homeless. As I was crossing the street, one man, who was wearing a red t-shirt, blue jeans, and a bandana, came up to me and asked me for change. I had none. That wasn't good enough for him. He got into my face as I was walking and asked again, his face so close to mine I could smell his breath. I again told him no, I had none. He tapped my shoulder and asked again with his face close to mine. I kept walking and reached for my cell phone to make like I was calling the police. He raised his arms and I thought he was going to hit me, but he growled "Fuck you, then" and walked off. I think if a cardiogram was hooked up to me, my heart rate would have been close to 200 BPM. I get nervous right now just writing about it. The rest of the walk to the hotel was a blur. No longer did I feel safe like I did earlier. I kept looking behind me for the aggressive panhandler, but he was not there.


When I got back in the hotel, I was debating on whether I should even stay one minute longer. I was scared and I was longing for home, but after a rest and gathering my thoughts, I thought the best revenge was to go back out and explore one more time. I promised my family and friends some goodies, and dammit, I was going to get them some.


I said it before and I will say it again. I was stunned by the amount of homeless in Montreal. A city in a country that prides itself on taking care of the poor and needy, and provides a safety net unlike what we have in the United States, having that big of a homeless problem. It's comparable or worse than American cities I have visited. It opened my eyes to another fact: The problems in Canada are no different than the problems we have in the USA. It is not a social utopia or the model all nations should be built on. It is just another country, full of people with hopes and dreams, trying to survive. They have crime, we have crime. They have unemployment, we have unemployment. They have prejudices, we have prejudices. We're different but the same. Either my expectations were too high, or maybe I did not know what to expect. It was a reality check for me. God Bless Canada, it is a great nation. God bless Montreal, it is a great city. Yet, the visit made me very thankful to live where I do. It made me very thankful to be an American. I am grateful for the lessons this visit taught me and they will stay with me.


Next post, back to the Olympic Park, Daddy needs a new pair of shoes, and Goodbye, Farewell, and Thank You.


To Be Concluded...

Trip to Montreal, Quebec, Canada (Day 3, Part 1)

"We are the soldiers under God's command
We hold His two-edged sword within our hands
We're not ashamed to stand up for what's right
We win without sin, it's not by our might"


Stryper-"Soldiers Under Command"


I awoke on Sunday morning at the same early hour as the day before, eager to go back downtown and see if I could find a Catholic Church to attend Mass at, and before that have a light breakfast. So, it was back to the trusty old Metro station to head to a parish that I had located on the internet. The Notre Dame basilica was out, as I was unsure if it was still an active parish, or just a museum or a tourist attraction.


OK, for any of you whom are offended by religious commentary, I suggest you stop reading now, or just wait until the next blog post. However, if you are not, please keep reading as you might find my opinion thought provoking. So please, indulge me if you will...


For years, the Catholic Church was a strong pillar in the life of Quebec, especially the French-Canadian population of the province. With the Quiet Revolution and the rise of secularism that came along with it, the Church's standing in Quebecer society began to wane, to the point where a city that did have many active Catholic parishes in it, now only has a handful. As a Catholic who considers himself fairly devout, I find it troubling to see that the Church's influence in Canadian society has waned. I am not talking about political matters, just the hearts and minds of everyday people. I do pray that hearts and minds will be changed and converted so we will see a revival of faith in the people of Quebec and the rest of Canada. This is just one man's opinion. I am sure anyone I know who is a Catholic living in Canada would be happy to counter my opinion, as it is just a small observation from the perspective of a visitor. I'm no expert.


Anyway, since it was early enough before the morning Mass, I had plenty of time to get breakfast at a nearby Tim Horton's. Oh yes, I did. My breakfast sandwich was quite good and the iced cappuccino was excellent.

Since I had plenty of time to kill before the Mass, I went for a little walk in the neighborhood near the church I would be attending. I am a terrible photographer but decided to try and take some photos just for artistic purposes.

Yeah, I'm not a great photographer. Plus, for some odd reason, I found the French language Stop signs an interesting photo subject. Why? I guess because I never saw street signs in a foreign language before I came here.


After walking around for awhile, I decided to sit and relax in the garden at the steps of the church. It was so peaceful that I took a short nap. I truly felt no danger like I would normally in a city, because this was Canada and I knew no one was going to be walking around carrying a gun or doing a drive-by shooting. It was probably the safest I ever felt in a large city. For comparison, there were 286 homicides in New York City in 2017, which for a city in the USA, is considered low (Source: New York Times). In Philadelphia, there were 320 in 2016 (Source: city-data.com). How many murders were in Montreal in 2017? 24. (Source: Montreal Gazette) Do the math. That's 262 less than New York City and 296 less than Philadelphia. Yes, one murder is too many, but I feel much safer in a city where the murder rate is not in the triple digits. I want to research what the City of Montreal is doing to achieve such a low murder rate, apart from the national laws on gun control, because that only shows a part of the story.


Hey, I said I would make observations as well as just write about my experiences. This wasn't just a pleasure trip, it was a trip to learn.


I digress. I went to Mass that morning at St. Patrick's Basilica. What a gorgeous church this was, especially on the inside. The art and the woodwork was breathtakingly exquisite.

In the United States, we honestly have no idea of what makes a beautiful church anymore. We build so many nowadays to look like plain buildings or community centers, not houses of worship meant to glorify God. We have "McChurches" that are built to a price and look almost indistinguishable from the next building, other than some arc in the roof or a plain steeple. Bring back the quaint country church and the glorious cathedrals of years past, not the mass produced variety that has blighted our landscape since the 1950's. Sorry all, but I get spoiled by the beauty of cathedrals like this!


The Mass itself was very beautiful, and the homily, which was a call to Canadian Catholics to make themselves available to serve their community, was very powerful. The Mass was also fairly well attended, much to my pleasant surprise. I loved hearing about the good work the parish does in the local community, so I gave them a $20 donation in the collection plate. Pray for the parish community of St. Patrick's Basilica in Montreal, and that they continue to do their best to serve the people of this great city.


To be continued...

Trip To Montreal, Quebec, Canada (Day 2, Part 4)

"Have a big dinner.
Have a light snack
If you don't like it, you can't send it back"
- Weird Al Yankovic, "Eat It"


(I usually like to begin my blogs with more thought provoking lyrics, but I haven't found a rock song about barbecue, so this will have to do)


Well, it was time for dinner on this unseasonably hot Saturday in Montreal. I know, I can't stop stressing the fact that it was hot. Does it ever get this warm up in Canada? Has it ever gotten this warm up in Canada? I know it is not eternal winter up here but I did figure summer/early fall temps would be a lot more mild than they are in the States. Still, I decided to don a black Iron Maiden t-shirt for this trip to downtown. My wardrobe decision ended up making my trip a lot more memorable, but more on that later!


I haven't been to as many local establishments as I would have liked on this trip so far. Typical American, I ended up going with the familiar instead of the local. To be honest though, if you are not familiar with the area, chances are you will frequent the establishment with the fewest question marks. I've had many a bad moment travelling when I would try something a little "too different" cuisine wise i.e. Greek food in New York City (no disrespect, my stomach raised on Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine just did not agree with it). Still, there was a place I have been dying to visit since I first heard about it via a YouTube channel that sparked my interest in the city to begin with: The Bar-B-Barn.


The name of the establishment tells you all you need to know. Barbecue. I'm down. I'm there. Ribs and a cold beer are just what the doctor ordered.


It is very easy to find the Bar-B-Barn if you follow the instructions by legendary Montreal DJ Ralph Lockwood: on Guy St, between Dorchester and St. Catharine downtown. So, going on that old commercial, I took the Metro to the Rue Guy station, and looked for St. Catherine St. Once I found it, I just walked until I saw the sign marking the location of the Bar-B-Barn.

Once inside, I loved the down home and friendly atmosphere of the place. I loved the decor with its wood paneled walls and lots of pictures of Montreal sports legends everywhere. I felt right at home there from the minute I stepped in. For the first time since my trip began, I did not feel like a stranger. I felt like I had just walked down the street to the local bar at home.

The lady at the bar was very friendly and took care of me right away. I ordered a ribs and chicken combo platter to be washed down by a bottle of Labatt 50. Yes, I know, I did not order a micro, but I like Labatt's and I always wanted to try the classic Labatt 50. Solid little brew. Besides, I was in Canada!

While I was waiting for my order to arrive, a man who was eating at another table asked about my t-shirt. It spawned a great conversation about music and the rich musical scene that Montreal is known for. He is a regular at the Bar-B, and lives in the Montreal suburb of Valleyfield, but has purchased some land near Sherbrooke and is building a home there. He shared stories on when he was on the stage crew at the Montreal Forum for a veritable Who's Who in music. You name it, he was there on the stage crew for the show, from Bryan Adams to ZZ Top. To the best of my judgment he was not bullshitting me, and the lady who was tending bar confirmed that he was telling the truth. Such an amazing dude, but I cannot for the life of me remember his name. I told him about my own band and about what we have done, and how Montreal is one of the cities we would love to do a show in eventually.


While I ate, we continued the conversation and he shared his political opinions as well. When he asked what I thought of our current president, I politely said "No comment" because being a foreigner I didn't want to get into a "my country is better than yours" pissing match. However, he was also no fan of the current Prime Minister of Canada, Justin Trudeau. My acquaintance was a very well spoken and sensible dude, who knew music and current events, but was also very middle of the road. He also gave me a tip on where to get the best poutine in the city.


How was the food at the Bar-B? Well, it was not the best I ever had, but it was still pretty damn good all of the same, and the friendly atmosphere and the great people put the experience over the top for me. Before I left, I went over and shook his hand and thanked him for the wonderful conversation, and that I hoped to run into him again. After that, it was back out into the sauna.


However, despite the heat, the evening was pleasant enough for me to walk around St. Catherine St and just take in the vibe of this excellent neighborhood. Went into a few sporting goods stores to see if I could find some Canadian Football merchandise, but was unsuccessful. Plenty of NFL gear though. which I can easily get at home! I'm in a city that is home to a CFL team! Where's the merch for the Montreal Alouettes?

The heat was starting to wear me down, so I decided to head back to the hotel. There is a rock club near the hotel and there were many punkers and metalheads donning their black leather and jeans even in this humidity. Must be a show going on. However, since I look more like a dweeb and less like a proper rocker, I decided not to check out the show. Air conditioning, snacks from the depanneur, and the CFL game on the TV kept my attention for the rest of the night before I dozed off.


Day 2 all in all was a fantastic day, and Sunday appeared to be more of the same. Well, it was at first...


To Be Continued...

And now for something completely different...Red leather is my color of victory!

"When you wish upon a star
Your dreams will take you very far
But when you wish upon a dream
Life ain't always what it seems
What'd you see on a night so clear
In the sky so very dear

You're a shining star
No matter who you are
Shining bright to see
What you could truly be (what you could truly be)"

Earth, Wind, and Fire-"Shining Star"

Sure, so far this blog has been about the first time I left the country on my own, but it will also be about writing, and this is something I wanted to write about. Hey, it's my blog. In the words of Homer Simpson, if you don't like it, move to Russia.

The picture at the top of this page and the lyrics from the Earth, Wind, and Fire classic gave me an inspiration, coupled with last night's therapy session I had. I do not plan to get personal very often on here, but this is something I wanted to write about. Oddly enough, and you are all going to think I've gone off the boil, this story is about an article of clothing, one that is very special to me. Some people love it, some people hate it, others probably think I look like Michael Jackson or Mike Reno from the 80's band Loverboy when I wear it.

It's my red leather jacket, and it is more than just a jacket to me...it represents me, and it also represents my musical hopes and dreams.

When I wear it, I feel like a star. I feel like one of the people that I grew up idolizing on MTV or in pictures in magazines or the liner notes of album sleeves. I get noticed in a crowd. Some people come up to me and ask "are you in a band?", and I happily tell them yes. It has clothed me during some very important moments in my musical life and personal life.

The day after it came in the mail, I wore it to Susquehavoc's final gig. Shane, my friend and musical partner in CSI, came to that show. That evening was a metaphorical passing of the torch from my musical past to my musical present and future.

I wore it to Rosfest 2014 and I went from being anonymous to being one of the most recognized people who attended the festival. It made people come up and talk to me. It made me come out of my shell and I ended up meeting so many wonderful faces that I am still in touch with and remain friends with to this day. It might have even helped make small connections that have helped out CSI. Even if only a little, help is still help.

I wore it to the Papal Mass I attended in 2015. The picture is of me posing by a grotto built by the cathedral in Philadelphia for Mary, the Undoer of Knots. So, you could say it was blessed by the Holy Father, and how cool is that to think about? All the talents that we have are gifts from God, and we always have to remind ourselves of that. We have to be thankful for our talents and remember who is responsible for them.

It was worn in one of my favorite pictures ever, me catching my daughter as she jumped off of a haybale at a fall festival. It means I will always be there to catch her if she falls.

Today, I even wore it to work, even though it does promote some snickering by those who do not know why I wear it. I wore it today because of the session I had last night with my therapist. I usually do wear it to my sessions because of the hopes and dreams it represents. Most of my depression stems from lament on how my professional life has turned out, going to a thankless job day in and day out that may drive me to an early grave because of the stress that comes along with it. My preferable professional life would be doing gigs with the band and earning a comfortable enough living for not only me, but for all of us in the band to feed our families and live a comfortable life with no worries. I even told her that I was considering burning my beloved jacket because it represented something I will never achieve.

My therapist told me to stop worrying, because I am a star already. The more I thought about her words, the more I realized that she was right.

I am living a dream. I am married to the best woman in the world who supports me in my endeavors no matter what. This woman is beautiful, smart, strong, and an incredible wife and mother. My life would be empty without her. I have a beautiful, vivacious, and outgoing daughter who constantly amazes me with her compassion for others and her caring nature. Plus, judging by her performance at her school Winter concert, the acorn has not fallen far from the tree. She has true raw musical talent. I want to see her channel that gift into something great. I have a home with my family that I am proud of and it has everything I want and need in it. Most importantly, it is home. My family is there. I am in a band with two (sometimes three) of the best friends I could have ever asked for who challenge me and push me to be the best I can be, and I hopefully push them just as hard back. In just 4 short years we have released 3 recordings of original material and have played some fantastic gigs. I know more can be achieved, and it will, but this is still an amazing thing to me. I have amazing friends who love and care about me and tell me what I need to hear, not what I want to hear. I would give them the shirt off of my back gladly if they need it.

So, instead of burning my red jacket, I will wear it with pride, because I am living the dream. I am a shining star. It is more than just an article of clothing to me, it is my statement of victory to the world, overcoming a tragedy that tore a family apart and rising up from the muck and mire to build an amazing family of my own and a future that knows no bounds. It's my colors, my flag. It represents how I bled inside for years, and how one man's blood has set me on a path to salvation. It's not just red leather to me.

Trip to Montreal, Quebec, Canada (Day 2, Part 3)

"No matter what anyone says
I think we´re beautiful
The most beautiful in the world..."


Warrior Soul- "Here's To the Losers"


We left off in my hotel room, where I was resting for a bit before heading out to another part of Montreal, the Mount Royal neighborhood. I had heard that this was the neighborhood for all the artists, the musicians, the Bohemians, the rejects, the riff raff, the outsiders. In other words, my people! While a lot of you may consider me clean cut and straight laced, I am a rock musician that plies my trade in an avant garde rock band. My personal beliefs may be different than many people in my field, but I don't see that as an issue when I am playing music. Music is art, art is expression, art is joy, and art is beauty. I am an artist, and race, creed, color, and political ideology evaporates for me when I am among fellow musicians and artists. We are all out trying to make this crazy world a little more tolerable for us to live in, and we all have to stick together because we are fighting for the same goal: to be heard and to be noticed. Anyway, I digress. Back to Mount Royal.


I cannot underestimate the value of having a Metro station within easy walking distance from the hotel. It made every trip to a different part of the city a pleasure. After getting off of the train and heading up to street level, I felt a different feeling in the air. Someone was playing an acoustic guitar. A produce stand was selling fresh fruits and vegetables. This neighborhood had a vibe that reminded me of Greenwich Village or St. Marks in New York City. It was gritty, but it was also beautiful. I had a good feeling music and groovy vintage clothing finds would be ripe for the taking here.


My goodness, did I feel out of place though. I might be a musician, but I did not look the part at all. In my white T-shirt, shorts, and (ugh) fanny pack, I felt like the high school nerd that I had been trying to avoid being in the years since my graduation. I did my best to blend in with the rockers and the Bohemians but I still stuck out like a sore thumb as I walked along sipping on a soda that came with my lunch (which I had at Valentines in Complexe Desjardins before I headed to the Metro). I was missing my faded torn jeans and leather jacket like Linus misses his blanket when it is in the washing machine. Still, the picturesque environs took my mind off of my square summer fashion and I walked about snapping some pictures of murals on the buildings.

I found my way to an interesting little record shop called Sound Central, which was run by a really nice guy. Found some good records in there as well, Gerry Rafferty's classic album City To City, the Styx album Kilroy Was Here, and a live album by prog supergroup UK. I knew one way or another, I would not be leaving Mount Royal without some vinyl.

After I left Sound Central, I walked back towards the Metro, because it was just too hot to really enjoy the vibe of this unique neighborhood. Then, I passed by a thrift store. Hmm, one of my goals was to find a really cool jacket up here, maybe I will. Up on the top rack in the thrift shop, right next to each other were two that caught my eye. One was black and reminded me of the jackets that Tony Iommi wore on stage with Black Sabbath, fringes and all. However, I ended up going with my second choice, a distressed brown leather jacket which has since become my go to jacket for my daily travels.

Now that I was toting a decent amount of goods, I had to make a trip back to my hotel so I could drop everything off. Yet, I wanted to hang around at least for a little bit and take everything in. Curse this hot weather, this is Canada! It's supposed to be cooler.

If I ever make another trip up here, Mount Royal is definitely a neighborhood I am visiting again, and if you are a musician or an artist, you would be a fool not to. Alas, the intense heat of the day made me beat a hasty retreat back to my hotel to drop stuff off, cool down, and change shirts yet again before I headed out to a restaurant for dinner that I had been dying to check out for a long time. I am saving the details of that meal for my next blog post.


Also, if you missed it, I am in a band. If you want to check out our work, visit us at www.clarkssecretidentity.com . Maybe one day we will have a gig in Montreal!


To be continued...

Trip to Montreal, Quebec, Canada (Day 2, Part 2)

"And you can fly
High as a kite if you want to
Faster than light if you want to
Speeding through the universe
Thinking is the best way to travel"


The Moody Blues-"Thinking Is the Best Way to Travel"


When we last talked, my friends, I was reveling in the quiet morning atmosphere in the Old Port section of Montreal. For a large city, it was absolutely peaceful and tranquil in this neighborhood. I did not want to leave. I just wanted to keep walking around it forever just to take in everything. Yet, there were other sights in the city I wanted to see. One of them was clear on the other side of the city, and was one of the reasons I wanted to visit Montreal in the first place: Parc Olympique, the site of Stade Olympique and the main venue of the 1976 Summer Olympics. For anyone who does not know, I was born in July of 1976, so that year has special meaning to me. So, I walked to the Metro station in Place Des Armes and looked on the map for the Pie IX station, which takes you directly to the park.

As I walked through the station and up to street level, I was humbled by the sight of the massive Olympic Stadium and wondered what it might have been like to be among the throngs of people who attended the Olympics in '76. I had never been to an Olympic venue before and the size and scope of everything just beggared belief. The Olympics are where the world comes together to put the best athletic talent that each country has to offer on display and to see who is the best. This is where Bruce Jenner won the decathlon and where a young Romanian gymnast named Nadia Elena Comăneci scored a perfect 10. So many amazing feats of athleticism happened here, not to mention other athletic events outside of the Games, such as Montreal Expos baseball, Grey Cup and World League football, and soccer matches. Pope John Paul II also held a Mass here.


Thankfully, the stadium was open, so I decided to walk in and check out the gift shop for souvenirs for my family and for myself. The attendant was extremely pleasant and went out of his way to find an Olympic collectable spoon for my wife's collection. I wanted to check out the tower that is attached to the Olympic Stadium, but I decided against it due to the cost (would I end up going up in the tower? Patience, people). Still, I was very happy to find some great souvenirs for myself and the family, so it was a very successful trip to Parc Olympique.

After snapping a few pictures around the perimeter of the park, I decided to go back to the hotel to drop off the souvenirs I had picked up. Early in the morning the weather was pleasant, but the heat and humidity had picked up and I was sweating like crazy as I walked down to the Metro station. I did not expect the weather to be like this in Montreal on the first weekend of Fall. I was hoping to be traipsing around the city in my finest rock and roll fashion, especially in a city with a vibrant arts and music scene such as this, but the weather forced me to dress in my summer clothes, so instead of having my trusty leather jacket to carry my phone and other articles, I was instead decked out in a t-shirt, shorts (which I hate wearing because my legs look appalling) and the biggest fashion faux pas of all...a fanny pack. Instead of looking cool, I looked like a dweeb. Next trip I book will be when it is still cool out.


Back at the hotel, I unloaded my wares and decided to rest for a bit while noshing on some snacks I picked up at a nearby Couche-Tard (convenience store chain in Canada), before changing my shirt and heading to another neighborhood on my "to visit" list...Mount Royal, which I will discuss in my next post.


I hope you all are enjoying my blog about this trip as much as I am enjoying writing it! Au Revoir until next time!


To be continued...