Playing Ukes With The Ladies For Valentines Day

I love getting together to play ukuleles with this group of fun people. For Valentines Day we met as we usually do at our local toy store and sang torch songs together. Bella loves going there too, especially since the place doubles as an ice cream shop (she's fond of vanilla). Look for her. She's partially obscured. I'm in the santa hat. (For Valentines Day ???)

Lattes & Loitering, Episode 51: What Passes for Bliss on a Tuesday Morning

There's a particular cup at my favorite café in Quincy, Brew haha.




It's not just a cup, it's the cup—the one they always seem to hand me, even if I don't ask. Red on the outside, patterned like someone took the time to make something decorative just for the joy of it. Thick-walled. Just the right heft. It fits the hand like it knows the weight of slow mornings and second chances.




And the drink? Always the same.




Not out of habit, but because this one is just… so. It lands perfectly in that narrow gap between bitter and comfort, with milk frothed into silk and a leaf—or a heart, or a flame—floating in the center like some caffeinated mandala.




I come here often. Same corner. Same chipped glass table. Usually with my fur babies. Same invisible rhythm of espresso, milk, and steam.




It's not profound. It's not life-changing.




But it's mine.




And in today's world seemingly wired for chaos and strife, there's something revolutionary in returning to a small ritual that asks for nothing but your presence and your gratitude.




Some days, this cup is enough.

Ogres!

Well, it happend, I’m back in another production at the West End Theatre in Quincy, CA.

This time it’s Shrek: The Musical—a tale of love, layers, and swampy redemption—and I’ve landed a small but mighty role as Papa Ogre. That’s right, I’ll be kicking off the show as Shrek’s dear old dad, paired up with my longtime friend and frequent stage partner, Michelle Pfingston, who’s playing Mama Ogre. In this go 'round, we have the dubious honor of sending off our 7 year old son (Shrek) alone into a hostile world while celebrating it in song. Ain't show business somethin'!

It’s a brief appearance, but it comes with something I don't mind doing: singing. In front of people. On purpose.

The show opens in May, just in time for Mother’s Day, and it’s packed with adorable characters, fairy tale chaos, and enough heart to fill a whole swamp. I’m keeping my time commitment light this round—just dipping my green toe back in the performing waters—but I couldn’t resist the pull of the stage. Especially with this cast, this crew, and this story.

Sometimes the best way to keep the joy alive is to take a small part in something big.

Back On Stage (Maybe)

 

So… I’m auditioning for some kind of role in Shrek the Musical.

That’s right. Community theater has pulled me back in—this time with ogres, dragons, talking donkeys, and musical numbers that are catchier than they have any right to be.

I’m going for a small role. Nothing too demanding. Something fun, something weird, something I can do without torching my calendar or my sanity.

Why? Because the stage still calls, even if it’s just whispering now. And because saying yes to small things can sometimes keep the big parts of life moving.

I’ll share more once I know who I’ll be playing (and whether or not I have to wear green face paint). 

Cue the fairytale fanfare.

She Moves

This piece began as a dream, or a half-song, back in 2009. A character emerged and never quite left. I didn’t know what to do with her until now. So here she is—in her own rhythm, her own night, driving into something new.

---

She Moves

She wakes at three a.m.

Blinks to clear her head.

No sound.

The house is still.

Dark.

Silent, decisive footsteps—

in seconds she’s at the door.

Grabs her keys.

Her bag.

Doesn’t bother with the bed.

She hesitates

on the back porch.

Shaking, but sure.

She must.

She has to go.

Lets the door shut

like a closing chapter

then slips into her car.

And the road ahead

is an unknown life.

When there’s nothing left to do,

and no one left to blame—

hard times get harder

when you have to change.

When all you’ve got is the sound of blue,

you play a whole new game.

‘Cause no one ever

stays the same.

She drives.

Thinks back on the years

she just made do—

Empty men.

Empty jobs.

Bottles that went nowhere.

That first time in the mirror—

the ache in her aging face.

She broke down,

right then,

and knew:

This can’t be it.

She moves, she moves.

She knows what she’s gotta do.

Pomp and circumstance—

graduate to a whole new school.

Learn to win

with a brand new set of rules.

Use your heart.

Make it work.

Make all new friends.

Push down the fear.

Believe in the end.

‘Cause staying ‘round here?

It amounts to nothing

in the end.

Hello, Blob. (A Brief Encounter With Abstract Life)

Out in some math-born corner of the void, the Blobs float.

They spin. Pulse. Change color like they’re listening to music only they can hear.

Once in a while, a presence enters their realm. A viewer. A traveler. You.

The Blobs notice. They shimmer, respond.

They spin brighter, move with more purpose, like they’re dancing just for you.

This little animation started as a whim. I wrote it in Python with Processing. Just a way to make something move, something abstract.

But once the Blobs showed up, they didn’t want to leave.

And if you watch long enough, you might feel them watching back.

A Little Black Dog Plays in the Snow. An AI story.

There once was a little black dog named Beatrice who had spent most of her life living in a shelter. She was a sweet and gentle dog, but unfortunately, no one had ever come to adopt her.

One cold winter day, a kind man named Barky came to the shelter looking for a furry companion to keep him company. As soon as he saw Beatrice, he knew that the little black dog was the one he had been looking for.

Barky brought Beatrice home and gave her a warm bed by the fireplace, a cozy blanket to snuggle up in, and all the love and attention she had always wanted. Beatrice was overjoyed and couldn't stop wagging her tail with happiness.

As the snow started to fall outside, Barky wrapped Beatrice up in a warm sweater and took her outside to play. Beatrice had never seen snow before, and as she ran and chased after the snowflakes, she felt more alive and free than she ever had before.

She ran and played until she was tired, and then came inside and snuggled up close to Barky as they watched the snow falling softly from the sky. Beatrice knew that she had finally found her forever home and the love and happiness she had always dreamed of. And Barky knew that he had found the perfect little companion to share his life with. 

The end.

A Chilly New Years Ride

 

I've been wanting to go biking for weeks, but the weather has beaten us back to the interior of the house. Until today. Sunny but chilly, I took advantage of the break in the weather. The next 5 days look awful for biking, so it had to be today. 

I moved all the e-bike components to the new bike I bought for $20 at a local thrift store because the frame was better I think. I also added a solar panel. The idea is to charge the e-bike while I ride it. That panel isn't going to make it so that I can ride indefinitely but it does extend the range.

Dog On It at the DB

 

We're Dog On It, Johny McDonald, Ken Cawley, and myself. And we've been asked to play at the Drunk Brush on Fridays recently. Some good ol' fun going on! Trying new stuff, new sounds as well as some old ones, of course. Why Dog On It? Because between Johny and I, we own 7 dogs.

The illustration I got from DALL-E, after a lot of prompting: Illustration of an Australian Shepherd dog sitting on a pile of broken instruments, including drums, guitars, fiddles, etc.

Grumpy and Cold

I asked ChatGTP and DALL-E to generate a story and illustration about an old man being grumpy about it being too cold and snowy to go out and ride his bike.

It was a cold, bitter Winter day, and old man Barky was feeling particularly grumpy. He had been looking forward to going for a ride on his beloved e-bike, with his trusty sidekick Beatrice, but the weather was just too darn cold.

As he sat in his cozy living room, sipping on a mug of hot cocoa, Barky couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance towards Winter. "Why does it have to be so cold?" he grumbled to himself.

He tried to shake off his frustration and decided to take matters into his own hands. He rummaged through his closet and pulled out his warmest coat, gloves, and hat. "I'll show Winter who's boss!" he declared.

But as soon as he stepped outside, the icy wind hit him like a ton of bricks. "This is ridiculous!" he shouted, trying to make his way back to the warmth of his house.

Despite his best efforts, Barky just couldn't seem to get warm. His fingers and toes were freezing and his nose was running like a faucet. "I give up," he said, defeated.

With a heavy heart, Barky trudged back inside and curled up on the couch with a blanket. "I guess I'll just have to wait until Spring to ride my bike," he said, sighing.

Oh well, at least he had plenty of hot cocoa and Beatrice to keep him company until then.