I'm resolute on not making any resolutions.

"New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." ~Mark Twain

As usual during this time of year, the standard question that is asked by friends and family is "So what resolutions have you made for the new year?" While I hate to sound moribund, I have come to the inescapable conclusion that making resolutions for the new year is the easiest way to break promises to yourself. I think having goals are a good thing, but, when ironclad resolutions are set-up, I think it is a recipe for failure, and extreme disappointment.

Even the term "resolution" carries with it the air of a non-committal attitude. Let's take a look at Congress. How many times have you read about them making "non-binding resolutions" regarding a particular issue? It is basically a way of saying "This situation sucks, we hate it, and we want to do something about it but don't have the power to." You can see the same thing done at the UN, the Hague, and just about every other governmental entity on the planet.

If we can't expect governments to stick to resolutions, why should we expect them in ourselves? I know, I know, we're better than the politicians, but still, we procrastinate, and we make excuses, and in the end, we don't commit to making the resolutions real, no matter how much we want to. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, and even I fulfilled at least one resolution in my life, and that was to return to acting after my transplant. I don't know, maybe the whole "staring death in the face" thing had something to do with it.

There is a Zen saying: "When you seek it, you cannot find it." I think that this is what happens when you set resolutions.

I think maybe a better approach is to think; "What can I accomplish today that will mean something for this moment?" While I certainly have goals I would like to accomplish, I think that if you stay too focused on the far goal, you lose track of what is immediately important.

So, starting Monday, my two immediate goals are to look for a new job, and get my daily schedule in order with regard to my writing business. That, is the immediate concern.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, it was amazing to see Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey getting the Kennedy Center Award. (Ok, just ignore the fact that Bush is introducing them. That they're getting the award is what's important.) They rarely do it for non-Americans, much less not one, but two rockers.

Rough Boys.

While my musical musings these days tend to lean towards jazz and blues, I still have a deep fondness for rock, especially the rock of the late 60's and through much of the 70's, which I grew up with. I still remember with great clarity, listening to "Abbey Road," "Let It Be," and other Beatles albums with my friends, stealing them from their older brother's and sister's record collections. I was about 10 or 11 when "Let It Be" came out; myself, Camillo, Mark, and Craig all singing the title song together, but sounding more like the Mormon Tubercular Choir.

Around the same time, there was one album that came out that fascinated me. I didn't quite grasp what it was all about, but I recognized that the music was unique. That album was "Tommy," by The Who. It was the beginning of a love of this group that has lasted until today. While I enjoyed everything they put out, it wasn't until 1974 that one of their albums hit me square in the face, and spoke to me on a personal level as no music had ever done so.

"Quadrophenia." A loud, (Well, now what Who album isn't loud?) biting, heartbreaking piece of work by Pete Townshend. While it was a generation removed from me, set during the Mod movement of the early 60's, the themes it presented were something that any kid of 15 or 16 (which I was) could readily identify. Trying to fit in with the crowd, fashion, impressing girls, betrayal by friends, drugs, disillusion with one's heroes - these are all things that were the same whether you grew up in the Bronx, or Shepard's Bush, whether it was the early 60's or the mid-70's. I became a rabid Who fan, and in particular of Pete Townshend's writing ever since then .


"I see a man without a problem
I see a country always starved,
I hear the music of a heartbeat,
I walk, and people turn and laugh.

Is it in my head
Is it in my head
Is in my head here at the start?
Is it in my head
Is it in my head
Is it in my head, or in my heart?

I pick up phones and hear my history.
I dream of all the calls I miss.
I try to number those who love me,
And find exactly what the trouble is.

Is it in my head [etc.]

I feel I'm being followed,
My head is empty
Yet every word I say turns out a sentence.
Make love to a stranger
Just asking for directions
Turn from being help to being questions.

I see a man without a problem."

("Is It In My Head" - from Quadrophenia.)


The Who were the prototype for the punk bands of the 70's, and have often been referred to as rather aptly by the way, as the godfathers of punk rock. The death of Keith Moon, their insane, brilliant drummer crushed so many of us, and changed the style of the Who from that point on. They weren't the same after Moon the Loon died.

Musically, they were all incredibly talented, but the one that always made me drop my jaw was their bassist, John Entwistle. He was more than a bassist; he was a true musician, with abilities on other instruments as well, including the French horn. His style of bass playing changed everything, as he played the instrument not just to hold down the groove, but as a lead instrument. Listen to so many Who records and you'll see what I mean, but, this is a perfect example. This video is from their movie, "The Kids Are Alright," made shortly before Keith Moon died in 1978. It is an isolated camera shot of Entwistle during their performance of "Won't Get Fooled Again." Anyone who has ever seen the original clip from the movie knows how powerful that performance was, and then seeing Entwistle's contribution, you understand just what a genius he was. As Townshend has stated, "He realized he had the power to change the fucking instrument!"

I only saw The Who once, as I never had the money to see them in concert way back when. I saw them in 1989, on the 20th anniversary of Tommy tour, and still have the concert shirt. I have most of Pete Townshend's solo work, and still hope to get to see him when he comes around at some point. Oh, and if you think that they were just another dinosaur rock band, check this clip from the 2001 "Concert For NY," which was done not long after 9/11. "Won't Get Fooled Again," by a bunch of then almost 60 year-olds, that by everyone's estimation, stole the show.

"A tough guy, a helpless dancer.
A romantic, is it me for a moment?
A bloody lunatic, I'll even carry your bags.
A beggar, a hypocrite, love reign over me."

I'm embarrassed just remembering this.

VioletSky, little Canadian minx that she is, has tagged me with something that has forced me to reach back into the dim recesses of my past. The ghost of albums past is haunting me like a turntable in the night, making my head spin at 33 1/3 rpm until I am forced to admit the one embarrassing album that I actually purchased.

First, I will lay no claim to sanity while buying this, other than the fact that I was head over heels for a certain disco chick, back in the day. Yes, I will freely admit gentle reader, (stress on gentle, please) that in my desperation to get a date, I did (under duress) purchase said album by "Pablo Cruise," in 1977. Mea culpa. May I forfeit my Who fan club card, but the girl was just too hot.

May the ghosts of Keith Moon and John Entwistle have mercy on my soul.




So that this embarrassment may be shared by others, I tag:

Bendy Girl, Anna, Petite, Ryan(who might get off his ass and start blogging again), and Julia.