Jipsea Theredeye King

It's come to my attention that I don't pay enough attention to this here website.  That's about to change.  Although talk is cheap and I'm a quarter scotch. So don't hold me to it but you know I have plans.  First I have to figure out how to add the subscribe feature to this here website and then we will be a little further ahead then I currently am.

What I really want to say is I have a new album coming out soon.  I can't tell you exactly yet as I haven't decided how I am going to release it.  You see I have been having difficulty with my chosen distributor and it would appear that I must find a new one.  But that of course could be seen as an opportunity to simply cut out the middle man.  I know you need to be perceived to be received and being widely available on all the DSPs is the accepted way these days.  The trouble is they don't play for the play and I have no say in that.  So I am thinking of creating an app where you can stream, download and purchase my music.  I realize that it can all be done right here on this website and I do appreciate those of you who come through here, I just feel that an app might be a little more convenient in this day and age.  It's not in the works yet but my brain is percolating the idea.  

So for now I will just say stay tuned there are new songs recorded and ready to come out, I've leaked aa couple on tiktok but seeing as I know you can download any song attached to this here blogg I am going to give you another unreleased track, one that was supposed to be on an electronica album that my distributor first declined to distribute. 

Feel free to tell me what you think of it, and while you're at it sign up for my email list to get the first look at the new album when I decide how I am going to release it.

I turned 45 the other day and as an early birthday present I gave myself a not so gentle reminder that I'm getting to that age.  The age of unintended consequences.  It started out simple enough, I've been doing renos on our house in La Paz getting it ready for our friends to move in.  I've had a year to do them but I also had a friend who is a painter coming down this month and he had told me he would bring his sprayer down and we could paint the house then.  So I waited.  I had a few other things to take care of before painting and I spent a few days a week in La Paz doing them for a couple weeks prior to his arrival and once I returned to San Jose after a couple long days of driving and working I just felt depleted.  I didn't even want to take the dogs to the beach, it didn't matter what it was I just had “I don't wanna” in my heart.  Of course I fought through it and went to the beach, did the usual chores around the house tried my damnedest to soldier on cause thats what you do.  My life is not difficult I was rebelling against activities that I would normally find enjoyable, but couple it with some tiring labour and poor sleep and I just wasn't into it.

So finally my desire to do nothing turned into a reality of unable to do anything, even that which I wanted to do like be comfortable.  After months of hearing a clunk in the driveline of my wife's truck I finally wised up and jacked the rear end up off the ground to inspect the driveshaft.  I'd checked the driveshaft multiple times already without jacking the rear end up and had not been able to feel or hear any play in any of the u joints but clearly I was inspecting it wrong.  The worn part was immediately apparent once the rear wheels were suspended and the transmission was in neutral.  Thinking of it now I probably could have just put it in neutral and saved myself the hassle of jacking the truck up.  I'm not a mechanic however even if I once played one in a shop.  I know the basics and can YouTube the rest but a lot of the time I've simply thrown parts at the problem indiscriminately until it went away.  Often times it might have been cheaper to pay the professional from the get go instead of muddling my way through it, but that's how you learn right.  This time however, even though I have changed many u joints in the past I decided that it would be better.  Not a big deal.  

The shop is 4.8 km from the house so I loaded my bike in the back with the plan on riding home after I dropped it off.  All went smoothly, the first 1.8 km was through the residential area, I had to slow down a few times to avoid being chased by street dogs but there wasn't any traffic and it was all down hill.  The highway was another story.  It's a four lane highway with a shoulder wide enough on either side to be used as a lane, and it is used as such.  The speed limit is only 50km/h as its running through the commercial section of town here but no one ever goes the posted speed, the do what they can.  So instead of being able to ride my BMX on the wide paved shoulder I was forced to the very edge where it's all broken blacktop, potholes and sand.  Disaster struck early.  No sooner then getting on the highway, riding downhill at a pretty fast clip, was a forced to the edge by passing motorists.  I didn't even see it coming, I hit the ground hard on my left shoulder the felt the left side of my head connect with the pavement.  I saw my phone fly from my pocket over my head and my bike rushing up behind me.  My teeth slammed together, head bounced off the asphalt, my shoulder crumpled under the impact as I slid to a halt on my belly.  My first instinct was to roll over and touch my head just to check for blood, there was none and I thought to myself that it was time to start wearing a helmet again.  I fact that I wasn't bleeding, spitting out teeth or struggling for consciousness seemed a miracle.  I rolled over, struggled to my feet and found my phone, passersby and witnesses hollered at me to see if I was okay.  I waved them off and checked my pockets, tucking my phone back into one.  My hat and glasses had come off in the crash so I gathered them up and stuck them back on my head, wincing as I touched the bruise that was now starting to throb.  My left shoulder didn't feel right as I climbed back on my bike and began to roll down the hill and I thought maybe it was dislocated, I could here a crunch and feel a pop when I moved it.  I'd run my hand across my clavicle checking to make sure it wasn't broken and it seemed okay but I knew something was wrong.  I quickly got off the bike as I realized there was no way I was going to be able to continue to ride.  

It was a 3km walk home and every step jostled my shoulder hanging loosely in it's socket.  I tried my best to keep it tucked into my hoodie resting against the zipper that was opened to below my chest.  I knew that there was something wrong with it but I was worried that if I figured out what it was I wouldn't want to continue.  I figured that I might have a concussion and that that eventually the shock would wear off and I wouldn't be able to continue at that point so I just kept walking.  If it wasn't for the bicycle I could've ordered an uber or got on a bus but I didn't know what to do about my bike so I forced myself to walk.  At one point a police truck passed me and I thought about flagging it down to ask for a lift but they motored on down the road as I watched in pain.  There was a radiology clinic on the way not too far from my house and I seriously thought about stopping to get an x-ray knowing that something wasn't right with my shoulder, I even went as far as climbing the steps and going to the front door, but they were closed.  With little options at that point I could do nothing but continue.  I got to the point on the highway where I was to turn off and head up the hill the last three or so blocks to the house but kitty corner to that road is a hospital so I walked to the crosswalk and stood staring at it while traffic streamed by.  It's the fancy private hospital for rich gringos with health insurance though and I am not one of those, so after a short debate with myself over the seriousness of my injury I once again decided that I couldn't leave my BMX outside the doors without risk of it being stolen and turned to trudge the final distance home.  

Once I got through the gate I realized that I had made a mistake.  I had left a load of laundry in the washing machine that needed to be hung to dry on the line so I made my way towards the back of the house.  To get there I had to pass my truck and I used that opportunity to check my reflexion in it's tinted windows.  This let me confirm what i already knew, something was wrong with my shoulder.  My clavicle was sticking upwards and my arm was about an inch lower on the left side then the right.  My experience with injuries has taught me that they are always worse once you see them with your own eyes, and that held true with the sight of my deformed shoulder.  Although my head and teeth hurt more then my shoulder I could verify with my hand and tongue that I was not bleeding and hadn't broken any teeth and so it wasn't that big of a worry, I've concussed myself enough times in my life to know that the headache will eventually go away.   I hung up the laundry one handed with no small amount of difficulty and then sent a text to my wife.

Miriam met me outside her office, which is one door down from the house, our living arrangements are a package deal with her job, which is a huge benefit because rent in this town is beyond astronomical and would be completely unaffordable on her salary.  Obviously I'd work if I could but due to my immigration status here I am not legally allowed to work yet but even with a second income rent would still not be reasonable.  She was more worried about the state of my injuries than I was and we walked down to the expensive hospital rather than taking the time to find recommendations for a cheaper one in the neighbourhood.  Having no working vehicle it seemed easier just to go to the one nearby but after receiving the bill I think we could have done ourselves a service by doing a quick google search.  

After an X-ray and a CT scan and a short wait for the Orthopedist the diagnosis was clear.  No damage to the cranium but a level three separation of the shoulder.  I tore both the acromioclavicular and coracoacromial ligaments and would necessitate putting my arm in a sling for three weeks and possible surgery.  It sucked.  I started writing this one handed shortly after the accident and only now three plus weeks later with both arms free am I finishing it.  You never know how difficult life is with only one arm until you find yourself limited to it.  Shortly into recovery while googling the injury I realized that I must have already injured my left shoulder in a similar fashion.  I still can't remember when it might have happened but I know by looking at older photos of myself that my shoulder had a drop in it before.  Not as significant and pronounced as it is now but it was definitely in the wrong place for a long time already.  I can remember it giving me problems for most of my life and having to raise my arm over my head to pop it back into place as it would often become dislocated but still for the life of me I can't remember the actual accident that resulted in the deformity.  Although considering how little strength I have in my left arm now and how painful it is to use it I seriously wonder how I could forget a period of time when my shoulder felt like this.  The power of youth is obviously wasted on the young.

My arm is now free, I can play guitar again and type two handed, it's still sore as hell and droops about an inch below where it should be but I can dress myself and do dishes again.  I am looking into surgery to have the shoulder reset to where it should be and the surgeon is looking into the price for me so we shall see.  It will probably be another few months before I can use my arm with any kind of force and I will have to religiously do rehab exercises.  Of course if I opted for the surgery I'm back to square one, another month with my arm in a sling and then more months of rehab so I guess I need to make that decision sooner rather than later.  

What's the moral of this story?  Careful what you wish for?  Don't pay others to do work that you can do yourself?  Keep your eyes on the road?  Mexican sidewalks are dangerous?  Enjoy what you have, you never know when it will be taken away?  All of the above?  I don't know.  I'm not sure that life is about learning lessons so much as it's about the experience.  Nothing has a value good or bad until you give it one, and so you shouldn't be in a rush to label something one way or another.  The universe is impartial, nothing is happening to you directly it just happens and sometimes you happen to be where it's happening.  I got to watch a bunch of TV and lounge around the house ignoring chores for a while, it was okay at first and grew pretty boring pretty fast.  I wouldn't say it showed me what's important in life but to a degree it showed me that I shouldn't take for granted even the simple mundane things like washing dishes and hanging laundry that require two hands to make easier.  Will the experience leave me a changed person?  I'll definitely be a little slower for a while and I'm still going to chill and watch TV during the day when my shoulder has had enough activity but perhaps it's time to do some of the things that I have been putting off for the future now.  There's a few novels that I'd like to write and some songs I've yet to record.  I struggle with the idea that I have to do these things solely for myself and that there's a good possibility that no one will ever read them or listen to them and that's okay.  I ain't doing it for you, I'm doing it for me, while I still have the time and the ability.  

I was saving this song for the end because I knew I would feel it was more poignant to myself at the end of the year.  51 songs down and yes I'm having a crisis of faith.  I was of the belief that my songs were good, that people would hear them and resonate with them, but I rushed it.  I put out too many too fast and didn't give each song a time to percolate into the public consciousness.  That's okay, the body of work is there, I can come back after they're all out and push the ones that did the best on social media.  Anyone who discovers them and takes the time to dig a little deeper can be surprised by the depth of the catalogue. 

Crisis of Faith is about exactly that a crisis of faith.  I had quit smoking marijuana at the time that i wrote it and was feeling down.  After 24 years of waking and baking going cold turkey was a shock to the system, anyone who says marijuana isn't addictive has never smoked as much for as long I guess.  Sure you don't get the same withdraws as heroin or booze but you don't sleep or have an appetite for a couple of weeks.  The hardest part for me is a lack of creativity and a lack of desire to play guitar, I know I can play I just don't feel as compelled to do it.  So this song came about as an answer to that.  It's just a crisis of faith and all it would take is just one hit to make it go away.  

I got back on the program again shortly afterwards but I quit again.  It's been almost a year of “sobriety" just a couple weeks shy, I'm not really sure I didn't keep track of the date but I could sure use a hit right now.  I know it wouldn't take it all away but it would be a temporary escape from the tedium of life.  How do regular people do it has been a question I have always asked.  How do they keep going through their routine daily life and not ask isn't there something more than this.  I guess I did too many drugs in my life not to question the quality or intensity of the experience, without them it's just day in and day out drudgery.  

I was never a user of hard drugs, I always preferred psychedelics.  I spent about two years taking mushrooms everyday.  Four grams a day for two years and the two years prior I ate them a couple times a week and the years before that as often as I could.  I took LSD once a week for years.  Every Friday or Saturday I would drop one to four tabs and lay on the floor or in bed in front of the stereo and listen to records for hours, soaking in every note, every song, every album.  It shaped my musical tastes, the selections that made it to the next week.  It changed how I played and what I wrote.  The new bench mark was how does this sound while I'm tripping, what does it project into my head, what movie does it make me see behind my eyelids.  Eventually I gave up listen to other peoples music and just played my own.  I let myself go to explore the raw sound through feelings, images and smells.  It made me even more aware of the acute power of sound.

This track brings it all back to me.  I recorded and released a very dark version of the song.  It's slow and depressing and makes me wonder why I pursued this particular direction with it.  I know it evokes a strong emotional response in me and that is what I like about music, the songs that make you feel something stronger than everyday life but I could have given it a touch of hope.  I didn't even remember the song had a hopeful edge until I was playing back the rough demo versions of it.  I might like it more that way, with a touch of hope.  I'm going to post this blog with one of those more hopeful versions of it attached and you can hear it and then listen to the released version and tell me which you think is better.  I guess that's the way it is with songs, they have a life of their own, there is no definitive version necessarily, just the version you as the listener resonate with the most.  Probably why I am a fan of The Grateful Dead, they never people any song the same way twice, each time you heard it was like hearing it again for the first time.  

Tell me which version of this song you like better, the bottom of the well desperation for another hit to make everything go away or the slightly more cheerful version that knows salvation is just one hit away.

It's a true story.  I didn't want to release this one cause it hit a little close to home, at least for a while.  Time might not heal all wounds but if you are aware it can give you a little perspective.  

My ex-wife and I were together for four years, then we split up and she moved in with the man who I had considered to be my closest friend.  He was also a former bandmate and is a phenomenal guitarist.  I guess it was my fault.  He had been going through a rough time and I invited him into our home to live with us.  Thinking that we could get the band back together and make some music, but he had too many problems going on in his life at that time to focus on music and it never happened.  What did happen is he spent a lot of time in the house talking with my girlfriend and I guess they found some common ground.  Well he moved out, back to his dads place and our life continued on for a couple more years and I never thought any more of him.  But she did.  

So she left me to go live with him and his sister in their father's house in the middle of nowhere and I sold my house and all my belongings to move to Mexico.  Well things didn't go well for her there and she decided she wanted to come back to me and as I still loved her and didn't really hold anything against her of course I said sure.  This happened a few times though, back and forth.  On the third time of returning to me I was living in a cheap hotel waiting for paperwork to come through so I could leave the country and she was finally ready to commit fully to staying with me and heading to Mexico.  We sold the van that we had bought together and she had taken when she left and got rid of a bunch of stuff that wouldn't fit in the Land Cruiser.  Then we got married, made it official in the eyes of the law, and set out for a honeymoon.  The paperwork I was waiting for had still not cleared and so we were going to spend a month or so in the states, somewhere in the south where it was warmer while we waited.  The main reason for getting married was for a temporary resident visa for mexico and the waiting was for the appointment with the consulate, they were booked out three months in advance.  

Well as the song says were three days in and she decided that she wanted to go back to her other man.  I could see the situation building by day two and after being socked in by a storm somewhere in Oregon things came to a head and she said she wanted to go back.  What could I do but give in.  We camped for a couple more days waiting out the storm and then hauled ass for 20 hours straight to get back to Canada.  I drove to her moms house and left her and her bags at the bottom of the driveway.  And that's the last time I saw her.

We patched things up after that.  I was in Utah in Moab and had just driven to the top of the world, mainly for the photo and written a song about being on the top of the world and still feeling down.  What's life's achievements without someone to share them with?  She had summer vacation plans with her son and was planning on joining me in Mexico after that.  So we spent the next month talking via email and facetime.  It was during this time while I was living on the beach in the middle of nowhere Mexico that I wrote this track.  I thought it would be great if she sang harmony and background vocals on it.  Of course I sent it to her and she changed the chord arrangement around to a three chord repetition and sent back her version.  We were excited to play it together, a song about our failed marriage of three days even though we were still technically married at the time.  In canada you have to stayed married for a year before you can file for divorce.  She bought a ticket to Tijuana and bus tickets from TJ to San Felipe and it was all planned.  We talked the night before she was set to leave her moms on a bus to Vancouver to the airport and then I woke up to her email saying she had changed her mind. 

Truth be told I had given it ten to one odds on her making it down or not making it whatever way you put it, so I wasn't too surprised.  It still hurt though, I still missed her and wanted to see her.  I know a woman cheats on you with your best friend and your supposed to say fuck ‘em both and never look back, but I wasn’t that concerned.  He was no threat to me and everyone has moments of weakness.  She was mine at the time. 

All works out as it's supposed to in the end.  I met the woman who is now my wife that very morning I received the news.  I was a little bit distraught that day of course but came back the next day and cooked dinner for her and her friend that she had come out to see.  We hit it off and after she returned to Tijuana we started chatting on messenger until we arranged to see each other again.  And the rest is history as they say.     

So you see how this song might seem a little personal, something that I didn't want to put out into the world to be judged by strangers, but it's a good song, for a sad break up song, but those are my specialty if I do say so myself.  I do feel though that when it comes to song writing I'm just the messenger they choose to come through.  It's not me writing the song it's just me writing it down.  Songs write themselves, especially the good ones.  They're meant to be given to the audience to use as they will to heal their own souls the same way the artist is able to heal a little piece of themselves when they channel it.  I like to think of songs I have written as a road map to a better way of being, cause that's what they have given me.

Holiday season interrupted my streak and then general apathy took over.  I always think that I should have something witty to say if I'm going to say something and yet I never do.  So I'll just say if it ain;t one thing it's another.  First my truck broke down and it took me a week to get it back into running condition, but of course I fucked something else up while I was washing the engine and then that took another week to diagnose and fix.  I wasn't really into writing a post to promote songs that I had released.  Then came christmas and I started to build kitchen cabinets for our house in La Paz and that has taken up most of my energy for the past couple of weeks.  I still have to install the slides on the drawers and put the faces on them but other then that it's all done.  Now I can finally clean up the shed cause I just keep depositing the tools in the doorway and you can't get inside anymore without stepping over a pile of them.  I couldn't have finished at a better time cause my truck broke down again.  I won't complain it's nothing major, just a couple of bolts that fell out due to a grease leak.  I suppose that indicates another problem that I'll put off fixing for now but it means no more beach till the parts arrive and I get them installed.  The joys of owning a classic automobile, you can't just go to the parts store most of the time to pick up the parts you need.  Thankfully there's a pretty large community of FZJ80 enthusiasts so you can generally find what you need as long as you can afford shipping, which was more then double the cost of the parts themselves.  

In other exciting now musical related news I bought us a couple of bidets, the kind that fit under your toilet seat.  So fresh and so clean.  As if pooping needed to be more enjoyable, but it is now.  

Anyway you see no music related new to share.  I would say since I've taken the steps to release music my actual ambition to play guitar and write songs has declined.  There are multiple factors at play here; one we moved out of Tijuana and I spend more time out of the house, two I quit smoking weed which was always my inspirational go to and three I guess I had a goal before and so was push to write and record a song a week.  But I've got three more songs to release and the year of a song a week is over and I'm out of recorded and ready to release material so I will have to start recording again.  Even if I am not writing songs that I find inspiring I still have a long list of songs that I haven't even tried to record yet so there's no fear.  I think I'd like to put together an album this time.  There's just something about the collection of songs put together in the right order to convey the mood of where you're at at that time in your life that random singles don't have.  Their all out of order as to when I wrote them and when I recorded them.  Of course they all hold a time frame of being recorded over the course of two years in Tijuana not all of them were written there, just the poppy ones.  I guess I was trying to be more upbeat.  A lot of my music is kinda melancholy but I like melancholy music so this time around I'm not gonna try to be anything, I'm going to put together an album representative of where I'm at.  Cabo baby!  It's not really a place for melancholy so we'll see what becomes of this.

Winter is coming to Los Cabos.  Not really but it's raining today and yesterday I put on a sweater for the first time in I don't know how long, I'm even wearing sweatpants this morning.  It's kind of nice to have a rainy day, it's been a while.  I mean we had some during hurricane season and I used them to stay indoors and avoid the world at large and that's exactly what I'm doing today.  The dogs are all asleep on the couches leaving me no where to sit but at the kitchen table so I might as well take the time to write another blog.  Not because I have anything to say necessarily but because I have another new song released today.  It's Friday after all and this year I set out to put out a single a week.  I've managed it pretty well, I think there was a couple weeks when I didn't get it to the presses in time so to speak but I will have 52 songs out come mid February next year.  It's a pretty big achievement if I do say so myself.  

This week I'm going bluesy.  It's a little ditty called Nobody Does Me (Like I Do).  I think it's a reminder to just be yourself and let everyone else do the same.  I try to hide ideas for living a better life behind clever lyrics, they can't be straight up preachy you got to be able to interpret it in your own way.  Music is a weapon and I choose to use it for good, or so I hope.  It's okay if you just do you, you don't have to do me too.  Of all the lines, this one is true, nobody does me like I do.  I tend to agree with Bashar that the world is perfect exactly as it is but that it couldn't be perfect without me or you, you know.  I mean sure there's lots of fucked up shit going on out there but it must be there for a reason even if that reason is just to wake people up to the fact that they don't like it.  I also think that we all exist in our own realities and even though you might be sharing a space with someone, they're just another aspect of yourself and vice versa in their version of reality.  I won't waste my effort though trying to explain what I mean, either you get it or you don't and I don't have the words to fully illustrate the concept yet.  Perhaps I've done too many drugs over the years, or you haven't done enough, but who am I to try to influence anybody.  You do you, I'll do me.  It's just better that way.   

So I know people are checking out my page from all over the world, even downloading tracks free that I've posted on this blog and thats pretty exciting.  I wish you'd leave a comment when you visit though.  Let me know where you're visiting from, let's start a dialogue, I'd like to know who my audience is.  Not that I'll pander to you, my mind doesn't work that way but I'd try a little more.  

Let me share a little of my life with you.  I live in San Jose del Cabo in Baja California Sur, Mexico.  I call myself a climate refugee after spending too much of my life in the temperate rain forest that is the west coast of British Columbia.  I always knew I wanted to live somewhere hot and dry.  As a child my family spent a year in Australia in a town on the edge of the out back called Dubbo, in New South Wales.  I don't think it rained for the first three months of being there and even though it must have rained there and I remember being in the rain during our travels around the country I have no memories of rain in Dubbo.  I was only five at the time though so my memory is probably not too reliable.  I can remember not understanding why we had to return to Canada after the year was up.  My father was teaching on an exchange program, the family we exchanged with lived in our house and we lived in theirs and my dad just swapped jobs with the father of the Aussie family so I guess he had to go back to work in Canada but I wasn't buying it.  There's just no way to sell the weather in Canada especially on the west coast, sure winters aren't as bad as they are elsewhere in the country but that ain't saying much.  Recently I received my temporary residency here in Mexico so now I never need to leave the country again, another two years and I can apply for citizenship here and call myself a Mexican.  Prior to moving to SJC I was living in Tijuana so it was a simple matter of crossing the border into the USA to renew my visa here in Mexico but since moving down here in February it made it a little more difficult to exit the country every six months.  The last time I needed to do it I had to fly to Tijuana for the night and fly back.  I took the opportunity to find some new books and buy myself a fake rolex.  Entering the States has changed though with the arrival of Trump in office and it wasn't as easy as simply walking across the last time, I had to fill out an application and give them my fingerprints and biometrics to enter.  That was enough to prompt me to get what I needed here to apply for residency.  I would rather fly back to Canada than enter the USA another time.  

I could use that to segue into what seems to be the most talked about topic of the day, politics in the USA but I'll leave that for other people.  I'm not a fan, let's leave it at that.  And I'll leave you with that, this time around, in an effort to encourage people to either sign up for a mailing list or pay for my music I'm only putting the first minute of a song up.  Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you're downing tracks, I'm thrilled really that people are listening to my music, but I'm also poor, I hope you understand.  If this upsets you leave a comment, let me know who and where you are and how much getting my music for free means to you and we can work something out.  

It's been a busy week, as you can tell I missed posting last week, but I missed a whole bunch of months so I guess I ‘m doing better then before.  We went camping last weekend as it was a long weekend here in Mexico, Revolution day was on Monday, and man is it a lot of work to pack up to camp for three nights.  We took our four dogs and three cats with us to make it an extra fun adventure and we managed to return home with everyone so it was a success.  Camping with cats isn’t too bad.  It's only mildly stressful as there are lots of coyotes and foxes where we like to camp and our cats are town cats.  I'm sure they know enough to avoid strange dogs on the street even though they live with dogs, but running for your life from a wild predator is a different story.  The other issue is being able to catch them when you're ready to leave.  The youngest one, Globo, is a wild cat once he gets outside and doesn't want to be touched, Xolo is a little better when camping but in the yard at home he won't let you get close to him and Mongo is 15 years old and has been a house cat up until recently.  She still spends most of her time indoors but she does like to go outside in the evening if we are sitting outside.  She's easy to catch unlike the two young ones, but also more vulnerable to the coyotes.  Thankfully even though we heard lots of yipping in the night the coyotes didn't come into our camp and all the cats allowed themselves to be lured by breakfast in the morning before we packed up and then stuck in their cages.  They complained a bit but thats the price of a bit of freedom.  

We have been going to the same spot for the past three years, El Conejo.  I was brought there 24 years prior by a ride when my girlfriend and I were hitchhiking home to British Columbia from Todos Santos.  We got arrested in La Paz for open alcohol in a vehicle and when they searched my bag they found about a joints worth of marijuana.  That started a whole process of threats of incarceration and an offer of money in return for freedom.  They wanted $500 US but we were down to our last $47 and as they bartered with us, bringing to price down by $50 each time I held firm at my original offer of $47.  They set us free and fleeced the driver of the truck we had caught a ride with for 1200 pesos or 120USD and sent us on our way.  Jesus quickly drove to the beer store ad bought another six pack and when I refused to hand him a beer behind the wheel took us to his brothers house where we sat in the back of the truck and each drank two beers fast.  The same police van rolled by us as we pulled away from his brothers place all smiles and waves this time.  Jesus dropped us off on the road north and turned around to go back to catch the ferry to the mainland.  We still had a ballena of Pacifico in my bag the police didn't confiscate and a pack of smokes Jesus had bought and by the time we had smoked a couple cigarettes and finished the beer a van with BC plates stopped for us.  We had a ride all the way back to Canada, or so we thought, but first Martin had to return to El Canejo to pack up his camp.  It took him five days to do that and we were stuck 13km from the highway with no food or water nor any money even if we were in town to purchase any.  Nardo ran the campground and would come by in the evening with fresh caught lobster or fish cooked to perfection which he happily shared with us.  We didn't speak any spanish beyond the rudimentary hola como estas donde esta baño etc. so it was a little hard to communicate but he made sure we at least had something to eat everyday.  There was another Canadian there who I met again in Pemberton a few years later who had cooked a big pot of five bean chilli which he shared with us during our stay also.  As hungry as we were while there I had fond memories of my stay in El Conejo and was happy to get the chance to return 22 years later.  Nardo still runs the camping area collecting fees from the surfers and tourists who show up, they still catch lobster during lobster season and there's always fresh fish straight out of the sea, sometimes you find a rock oyster on the beach or the neighbour will go and dive for them.  Every time we go there, which is usually about twice a year, I pack food for us and always bring it back untouched.  Nardo is a wonderful and it's much easier to just eat with him and MIguel at his house.  A random chance discovery that has become a wonderful place of refuge from the world for us.  I like to marvel at the way the universe works, if you just give the pieces time to fall into place you'll see they fit perfectly together every time.

We're a lot closer to El Conejo now so ideally we'd get there more often but it's still a five hour drive each way and packing up seven animals and two humans is too much work to go for a night or two, even three nights didn't feel like enough time.  Once Miriam has settled into her job a little more maybe then we'll get there more often but you know I'm pretty happy to stay at home too.  We live in Cabo, holiday destination for people all over the world, what's not to love, we need more free time just to explore the places around here, there's so much to offer and we've only scratched the surface and yet to go looking for the hidden gems.  

I'm sure we all have our list of things we said wouldn't do and yet find ourselves doing them anyway.  I said I would never be in a cover band and well I'm not in a band I find myself in a position where I feel compelled to play covers.  It's not all bad I guess, as it means I have a place to play music live, outside the comforts of my own home, but it also means I have to become an entertainer.  

I'm not sure that it's something that I really want to be, a dancing monkey, but I want to play music and playing live is the only way I'm going to home this ‘hobby’ into a craft.  I'm actively pursuing it and busy practicing and learning new covers to play.  I'm not a naturally outgoing person, I'm much more of an introvert then it might appear and it's been a while since I've been on stage, and even longer since I've been the frontman of the show.  The last band I was in I played a drummer, note I don't say I was a drummer I only played the role of the drummer, as well as the lead singer.  It was a comfort to be able to hide behind the kit and leave the spotlight to the guitarist of the group.  I would have happily given up the singing role and let him do that as well, he was a good singer but shy of his voice and unable to remember lyrics beyond something simple and repetitive.  Playing drums and singing meant both those areas suffered.  I was never the greatest at either but as it was only the two of us to begin with as long as we kept in time with each other we sounded tight, once we added a bassist he liked to point out that I wasn't very good at keeping a steady rhythm.  The trouble was we'd start out to fast for me to sing and then once I realized I'd slow it down for the verse and speed up again out of the chorus.  I still have struggles with playing guitar at the right speed to sing to, but now it's only me. Everything is far more noticeable when it's just one person on stage, at least for the one person on stage.  I'm working on it.  

I got lots to work on while trying to become and entertainer.  How to fit the solos in with no rhythm, how to translate songs meant for a whole band into a guitar and voice format, how to interact with a crowd when we don't speak the same language.  The challenges are real.  I'm realizing how much more so as I write it down.  It's okay though, I'm up for the challenge, as Barney would say “Challenge accepted!”  It's pretty low pressure, I'm getting paid in Mezcal and can pepper my setlist with as many originals as I want.  So far it's been a pretty small crowd so I don't really feel too compelled to play songs everybody knows, cause those aren't the songs I know.  Mostly aside from originals I stick to Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Grateful Dead, Springsteen, Petty, Cash you know classic singer/song writers from the 60's and 70's.  I suppose a certain demographic will know them but maybe not here in Mexico.  What are you gonna do?  I can't change my taste and I can't bring myself to play songs I don't like passably to please myself so I imagine that an audience will notice my distaste.  I tried learning Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson this morning and I couldn't do it.  I have a love hate relationship with him.  His music is just so simple as to the mundane yet it's pretty catchy and popular.  It makes me sad to hear it and think of how bad it is and how popular it made him.  I'm just jealous I guess, envious even.  I feel that twinge whenever I hear musicians better than me, and that is a long list.  

I have always fancied myself a songwriter and hoped someone else would discover my songs and make them popular.  I could live with that as long as I could live off the royalties, I don't need to be famous.  I just want to be able to make some money off this expensive ‘hobby’ of mine so I can retire my wife and we can afford to travel the world.  There's still places I'd like to see and places I'd like to return to with money enough to enjoy them more thoroughly .  But as with so many things in this life, if you want it done, rightly or wrongly or just your own way, you gotta do it yourself, so the show will go on.  It's no different than writing this blog or posting on social media, recording, playing all the instruments, mixing, mastering, designing album covers, building a website.  There's a lot that goes into this, it's a fulltime job that doesn't pay anything, yet.  I know one day soon it will reward me for all the work I've put in.  I'll be able to enjoy the benefits for years to come, it's a long term investment and thankfully I'm in a position to allow it to mature.  

So if you happen to be in San Jose del Cabo come on down to Tequila Town on Thursday night and try some Tequila and enjoy some live music while you're at it.  Drop in and say hello and you can tell everybody you knew me before I became famous.  

Sometimes I feel like I have spent my life chasing my tail all the while thinking I was getting ahead.  Going in circles hoping that I'm on an upward spiral.  In the end we go out the same way we came in.  I'm not planning on that anytime soon but when it arrives I won't be fighting it.

What does self improvement really mean, that you think you're not good enough as you are.  What a waste.  Everything is as it's meant to be, it's perfect, there's no way that it could have ended up any differently.  And if you're thinking “well that's easy for you to say” it's easy for you to say too.  Embrace it.  Like Yoda said “Do or do not, there is no try.”  You want to be a better person, be a better person, why waste your time.  But remember you're the hero of your own story, no one else is going to put you first.  Just as long as you're not harming anyone, do what you need to do to create the life you want to live, be the person you want to be.  

I'm getting there.  Found my first gig here in San Jose del Cabo playing at Tequila Town on Thursday nights.  Now I got to learn or relearn a bunch of cover songs to try to pander to the masses, cater to the clientele.  I always said I'd rather not play than play covers but I need to improve my visibility somehow.  I'll sneak in my own songs here and there, I doubt anyone will notice.  The main star of the show at Tequila Town is the 1700 different types of Tequila they have to offer.  Me I'm not the biggest fan of Tequila, I prefer Mescal myself.  It's stronger in flavour and in bite.  I don't think you necessarily want to drink a tumbler of it on the rocks but sampling little sips of the multitude of different varieties always gets me drunker than I had planned on being when we go there.

One of the perks of living in a tourist town, you go back to a place more then twice over the course of a month or two and you become known as a regular, accepted as family even.  Maybe it just means we like to drink.  I try hard not to be an alcoholic, I've been one in the past, although at the time I might not have considered myself as such.  I was a cook, it was part of the kitchen culture and if you want to make it in the big leagues you gotta play ball.  I got out after I saw what it was doing to my bosses and co-workers.  It was never as bad as Kitchen Confidential but we had our moments and now I can look back like any old timer and say “back in my day.”  Cause of course things change, I don't know if we'd get away with that kind of behaviour in a kitchen anymore.  The last one I worked at nobody even drank off shift let alone on shift.  

Now I tell everyone I'm a musician, and it's acceptable for musicians to drink on the job, the bartender will make sure you have a drink at hand and if you're lucky they won't take it off your bill.  This gig though I might be getting paid in Mescal, I don't know yet, we never talked about money.  I'm not too concerned, It'll come back to me.  I'm really hoping that this will be a good way to meet other musicians around town.  I'd like to team up with another guitarist who sings in Spanish to cover the language barrier that I still face.  It might be a tourist town but a lot of the tourists are Mexican and you know they are going to want some music that they know.  It's too much pressure to think about it right now.  I'm pretty happy about having a gig, it gives me a reason to practice guitar again, I'd been getting kind of bored playing for myself.  In fact I haven't been playing much at all lately so this is just what I needed.  If you happen to be in San Jose del Cabo for the Thursday night Art Walk swing by Tequila Town for some free tequila and mescal tasting, maybe you'll find a bottle to take home with you and you can enjoy some acoustic covers of classic rock staples inter spliced with the odd original.  And when this music career takes off you can say, “I know that guy, I saw him play before he was famous.”