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Living In Fog

Twenty years ago while hunting for a house to rent in Mendocino, I had lunch with a local who gave me some valuable information about life here, including where here is. Mendocino is the name of a town, true, but when a local says he or she lives in Mendocino, he or she means they live somewhere between Westport in the north and Elk in the south, and somewhere on the coast to ten miles inland.

This local also forewarned me about the dense summer fog that can blanket the coast for weeks and even months at a stretch permitting no sun to shine upon the land. She said many people here succumb to fog-induced depression that can only be cured by going inland a few miles where the sun is shining brightly.

How right she was. We are currently in week two of Life In Fog, and though I’m accustomed to these stretches of gray timelessness, the body mind spirit consortium is really put to the test by this lack of sun. By that I mean, one doesn’t have to succumb to the gloom, but if one is already feeling a bit blue about something, the blues may easily grab one.

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Speaking of the blues, for most of my life I felt mighty blue about the unwillingness of humans to forsake violence and greed to work for the greater good of humanity and to work for the good of our mother earth who is hurting so badly from humanity’s misuse of her.

Now I’m no longer blue about that because I came to realize with the ascendancy of Trump and how his adherents and many others behaved during the Pandemic, and watching how things are unfolding now, that humans are behaving as humans have behaved since we evolved into modern humans a few hundred thousand years ago.

As with all other species of life on earth, our priorities are: having sufficient food and water, not being too hot or too cold, procreating, and protecting our offspring until they are able to survive on their own. If we have the time and the means to do things to give ourselves pleasure we’ll do that, too. And most importantly, we don’t care about other species except to try to eat them or use them to fulfill our priorities.

Yes, a tiny minority of humans deviate from this self-serving behavior, and some pre-industrial societies developed collective behavior practices designed to not overuse resources so future generations would have enough to eat, but by and large humans do what all species do: we take care of ourselves in the short term. And we think anyone who suggests we do otherwise is crazy.

For instance, air travel has been proven through many meticulous studies to be the cause of at least 25% of all greenhouse gases and the attendant global warming, and that number is probably closer to 50%. Yet millions of people who claim to care about the environment and the future of the earth continue to fly in jets multiple times a year. This seeming hypocrisy used to give me the blues. Now I understand these people are simply being human and giving themselves pleasure in the short term. They don’t really care about anything else. That’s how humans are.

And that, I feel, is why we the people elected Trump. He doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what he is: a self-serving human being just like the rest of us.

Or maybe I just feel this way because I haven’t seen the sun in a week.

fin

Troo Romanz piano/drum duet on YouTube and Spotify.

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Good Things

Headlands Fleurs

There is a boggy place on the headlands just to the south of Main Street in Mendocino where the flowers this year are more lush and spectacular than I’ve ever seen them, and the bumblebees are in ecstasy visiting the myriad blooms.

Farmers Market

Every Friday from noon to 2:30 until October is the Mendocino Farmers Market. Such fun. I go every week and buy sunflower-seed sprouts and tamales, and this week I got a jar of ambrosial apricot jam, a jar of Laytonville honey, a jar of cannabis healing salve that really works, and a spectacular bunch of radishes.

The Bear Came

This morning I went out to cut a zucchini from my one zucchini plant growing in my orchard tub and found a bear had knocked over one our garden refuse cans to root around in the kitchen compost.

We call any bear who knocks over cans in our neighborhood the bear, though we’ve never actually seen the bear in the thirteen years we’ve lived in this house. He or she visits us during the night. We know the bear is different bears, but for some reason we like calling them the bear.

And though cleaning up the bear mess is a gucky chore, I’m always happy when the bear visits us so long as he or she doesn’t try to get through or over our deer fence. I like the idea of him or her out there sniffing around.

Sugar Snap Peas and Carrots

In my orchard tubs protected by the aforementioned deer fence, we have had the most successful crops of sugar-snap peas and carrots we’ve ever had. The lettuce crop has been good, the scallions marvelous, the sunflowers still stalks and no flowers, arugula plentiful, radishes ample, parsley galore, and the snap peas and carrots magnifico.

Lemons

Our lemon trees are also having a fabulous time this summer. I’m staying on top of feeding them and watering them, and we’ve had bumblebees and hummingbirds doing a great job pollinating them in the absence of honeybees. How lucky we are to have such a profusion of those tasty yellow orbs.

Reviews of The Farm at the East Cove Hotel

I’ve had several emails and letters and even some phone calls from people telling me how much they enjoyed my latest book The Farm at the East Cove Hotel, but until recently no one had posted a review of the book on Amazon, and finally someone has posted a nice encouraging five-star review there to go along with two good ones at Goodreads. Hurray!

fin

Todd’s happy song Wake Up Thinking About You from his album Dream of You

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Robin Hood

In the myth I liked to enact as a kid, Robin Hood was a witty swashbuckler who didn’t have to help poor people and could have enjoyed the patronage of the evil king and his even more evil henchman the Sheriff of Nottingham, but Robin felt it was shamefully wrong that so few people should own almost everything while everybody else was starving to death.

The final straw for my Robin Hood came when the king and his amoral cohorts raised taxes even higher on people already literally dying under debt. Robin Hood said, “Enough already,” and started waylaying rich people traveling through Sherwood Forest and taking their money and jewels to buy food to give to the poor. But Robin didn’t just take their money. He brought them to a feast in the forest where he was taking care of a bunch of hungry people, and he introduced the rich people to the poor people so the rich people would learn that poor people were exactly the same as rich people except for one thing: they weren’t the children of rich people.

When I would enact my Robin Hood dramas with my friends, I usually played the part of Robin Hood, and my friends would play the parts of Friar Tuck, Little John, and Will Scarlett, and they would all best me at combat. Even so, they liked having me lead them in our skirmishes with the Sheriff of Nottingham because I knew how the story went and they weren’t sure what was supposed to happen next.

We even had little leather pouches full of rocks (money) we took from the rich, usually invisible but we knew they were there, and gave to the poor, also usually invisible but easily imagined from seeing the Errol Flynn movie version of Robin Hood several times.

These enactments always made us happy. And I think that was because we knew instinctively that sharing was the way to go. Indeed, I think it was in our bones, our genes, in the evolution of our species to share in order to survive. Nobody should be rich at the expense of other people, especially when there’s plenty of food and money for everybody.

Little did we know we were socialists and the king and his lords were capitalists, but that’s the story we were playing out, creating a world of sharing and equity.

Now the actual ruler of America and his greedy henchmen have raised taxes on the already desperately poor, taken away medical care for tens of millions of people, and are creating a society resembling the England of Robin Hood’s time.

This time, however, the rulers have made sure guys with bows and arrows won’t stand a chance against vast numbers of soldiers armed with powerful weapons. There is no fun way to bring about a just and equitable society because, quite frankly, we waited too long to do anything about these greedy guys taking over all the branches of our government.

So what do we do? Elect people who want to take from the rich and give to the poor, assuming the rich ever let us have a fair election again.

fin

Everybody Has To Breathe from Todd’s CD Hip Salon

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Parallel Worlds

Most of us live in many parallel worlds simultaneously. I don’t mean parallel dimensions, I mean in this dimension we operate in several realities or mental states in the course of a day, an hour, a minute.

I, for instance, ache with sorrow about the genocide in Gaza and the annihilation of the rain forests and the ascendancy of thugs to positions of ultimate power in our authoritarian government, and I also have a dandy of a toothache and hope I make it to next Thursday when my dentist will save me.

I’m writing a new novel that is gushing out faster than I can write the words down. The story doesn’t seem to have anything to do with Gaza, but of course it is all about people trying to overcome terrible wounds that have left them vulnerable and afraid and unsure of themselves. And I just chopped some firewood for tonight’s fire and read an email about a friend surviving heart surgery and the plants in my garden are calling to me, “Water! Water! We need water!”

All these things are going on simultaneously and may not seem connected to each other, but right below the surface I discover they are not only connected, they are one. My garden is part of the plant kingdom struggling to survive climate change as is the Amazonian Rain Forest trying to survive climate change and human overpopulation. My heart aching for the innocent people being tortured and killed in Gaza is such a huge ache it has reached my tooth. Everything we experience is part of the same unfathomably complex matrix of realities adding up to this one seeming reality.

Buddha said the way not to succumb to sorrow or anger or hopelessness is to calm the chattering brain by focusing on our breathing and bringing our thoughts to a standstill to experience this moment. Now. Remembering this, having this understanding in mind, we proceed with kindness and thoughtfulness and love. Now.

We may never succeed in changing the overarching narrative of the greater world from violence and cruelty and greed, to non-violence, kindness, and generosity. Striving for such change is a noble calling, every bit as noble as practicing loving kindness.

fin

Todd’s musical prayer for Gaza on Youtube and Spotify

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Imagine No Dishonesty

I was trying to think of good ideas for signs to take to rallies in support of democracy and the rule of law in America. I came up with Imagine No Dishonesty in the manner of John Lennon’s Imagine lyrics, and I thought the idea was pretty good until I fell to pondering the subjective nature of honesty and dishonesty.

So I decided a less confusing sign would be Imagine No Intentional Dishonesty. But then I realized intentional dishonesty is simply lying, which brought me to Imagine No Lying.

I tried to imagine a political system in which no one lies, and that tickled me for a few minutes until I came back around to the subjective nature of truth. We have a President who, from my point of view, lies constantly. Yet I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think he’s lying. I think he thinks everything he says is the truth. And what about the millions of people who believe everything he says? From their point of view he is incapable of lying.

Recently the President said, “America won World War II. If America hadn’t won World War II you would all be speaking German now, or Japanese.” When I heard him say this I realized that was exactly what I’d been taught in school and through popular culture when I was growing up: that until the United States entered the war on the side of the allies, the Germans and Japanese were winning the war. I was also taught that America won the war by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and killing hundreds of thousands of people instantly.

Then I went to college, and though I only stayed in college for two years, I had some fascinating eye-opening courses, one of which everyone in my class of 1967 at Stevenson College at UC Santa Cruz was required to take. The course was entitled Stability and Change in the USSR from 1917 to the Present, taught by a brilliant professor from Hungary.

One of the many things I liked about this professor was that he urged us to thoroughly research anything he told us in his lectures that we had a hard time believing. And one of the things he told us that I had trouble believing (regarding whether America was the reason the allies won World War II) was that for every division the German army had on the western front fighting America, Great Britain, and France, they had five divisions on the eastern front fighting the Russians.

Now if what my professor told us was true, then for every million soldiers Germany had fighting America, Great Britain, and France, they had five million troops fighting Russia. And it was Germany exhausting five times as much of their resources and military might against Russia that was a primary contributor to the collapse of the German War machine. I spent hours and days in the university library researching this hard-to-believe thing my professor told us, and found his assertion to be true.

Yet prior to learning this truth, I was absolutely certain that what I previously believed to be the truth was the truth.

So I abandoned my Imagine No Dishonesty sign idea and came up with Imagine Government Founded On Kindness and Generosity. This, of course, is rife with words and ideas every bit as subjective as truth, but I like imagining my notions of kindness and generosity as the foundations for everything our next government does.

fin

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Portals To Other Dimensions

Our friend Deb Kvaka just gifted us with a quilt she made that we greatly admired, and when we mounted the beautiful creation on our living room wall we realized her quilt is a portal to another dimension.

Speaking of portals to other dimensions, I just heard from a reader that she requested my new book The Farm at the East Cove Hotel from the Berkeley Public Library, and by golly they bought a copy for all of Berkeley to borrow. Hurray for libraries!

Just down the street from us and around the corner is Mist Farm. Their strawberries are at their zenith right now. Having eaten mostly not very good store-bought strawberries the last several years, these Mist Farm strawberries are so good they are unquestionably portals into other dimensions. Can one eat too many strawberries? We’ll find out.

Speaking of other dimensions and beautiful works of art, Nature has been bringing out the rhododendrons in glorious force of late, both the wild pink ones abounding on the fringes of our redwood forest, and the domestic varieties humans have cleverly bred from the wild ones for who knows how long. Our yard is full of domestic varieties that we never water, yet they give us spectacular blooms every year. Nature is so generous.

Other good news amidst the sorrows of the world. Work on a new novel has begun, new tunes are coming when I sit at the piano and get out of my way, and my tubs are now providing us with lots of juicy lettuce and radishes and potatoes.

And we’ve had some marvelous minus tides in the mornings of late, allowing us to walk great distances on the vast beach at the mouth of Big River, which is one of the great portals to other dimensions.

Here I am at one of my favorite portals to other dimensions (only accessible at very low tides.) This is my report.

fin

Troo Romanz piano/drum duet from Todd’s new CD Hip Salon.

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Things Happen

We were on the beach at the mouth of Big River and came upon these gulls making a big fuss about one of the gulls having a fish and the other gulls not having a fish. We didn’t see who caught the fish, and it may have been that the gull with the fish stole it from the gull who caught the fish. In any case, when the gull with the fish started eating the fish, two ravens arrived, more gulls came, chaos ensued, and we didn’t stay to see what happened because it was cold despite being a sunny morning and I hadn’t worn a jacket.

At dusk of late, a skunk comes walking across the deck, has a long drink from the white bowl full of water near our stone statue of Ganesh, and then he or she jumps into the trough in which I grow pink and yellow roses. Generally speaking, I don’t want skunks in my troughs and tubs where I grow things because they tend to dig things up in search of worms and make a mess. And in the case of my tubs and troughs where I grow vegetables, they dig up the plants. But in this case, the skunk eats sow bugs that proliferate in this particular tub, and I appreciate the excellent job he or she does ridding me and my roses of these voracious pests.

Every year for just a few weeks on one little section of cliff on the headlands south of the town of Mendocino, these magenta flowers appear. This is their actual color, and unlike the invasive ice plant that spreads everywhere and is an ecological scourge up and down the California coast, this variety hasn’t spread beyond this little section of cliff in the twenty years I’ve been walking here and actually keeps the cliff from eroding.

We’ve lived in our house on two acres near the town of Mendocino for thirteen or fourteen years now. For our first eight or nine years here we did not have any nasturtiums growing anywhere on the property. Then one day my friend JB sent me a little packet of nasturtium seeds from his nasturtiums and I planted them in my tubs and pots in which I grow roses, and I also planted a few seeds in one of my orchard tubs where I grow lettuce and radishes and sometimes potatoes. Now nasturtiums grow here year round, planting themselves exactly wherever they want to be.

I believe ravens enjoy posing for pictures.

Inside and outside, things happen.

fin

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Gaza

I pray every day for an end to the ongoing genocide of the Palestinian people in Gaza. Sometimes I pray by playing the piano and intoning Gaza while visualizing a time when the women and children and men in Gaza will live in peace and have sufficient food and water.

Here are links to my piano prayer Gaza on Apple and YouTube. Any pennies I get from Apple downloads, and any tiny fractions of pennies I get from streams of Gaza will be donated to Doctors Without Borders who are doing all they can to help in Gaza. I get no pennies from Spotify because they only monetize songs that get more than a thousand streams.

The government of the United States is the main funder of Israel’s ongoing blockade of aid to Gaza and continuing bombing of civilians in Gaza. I write to my Congresspeople asking them to stop voting to send more military aid to Israel, but so far they keep voting to fund the genocide.

I pray every day for the coming of peace to Gaza.

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Thrilling Audio News!

Hello dear readers.

On the first of May – purely by chance – the streamable/downloadable songs from my wonderful new album Hip Salon AND the audio book edition of my new novel The Farm at the East Cove Hotel went live.

I’m happy to post the Hip Salon links here for you and for anyone you want to share them with. To pique your curiosity, here is a list of the tracks from my new album along with brief descriptions of those tracks.

1. Hip Salon a bluesy tribute to those who cut our hair while we bare our souls – with groovacious drumming and fab backing vocals

2. Jealous piano and solo voice

3. A Question For You  solo piano

4. Troo Romanz a piano/drums duet

5. Gaza  piano and voices – a prayer for peace

6. Everything Is Something solo piano 

7. Remembrance a poem

8. Everybody Has To Breathe a cappella – four voices

9. Another Question For You solo piano

10. When Is It Done? a story with music

Here are Links for streaming and downloading the songs of Hip Salon.

Hip Salon at Apple Music

Hip Salon at Amazon

Hip Salon on YouTube

Hip Salon on Spotify

Hip Salon on Pandora

Deezer

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Regarding the audio book of The Farm at the East Cove Hotel, I had a marvelous time narrating the novel and inhabiting the many characters with their wonderful voices and accents and personalities. Here is the Audible link, and for those who don’t want to join Audible, a link to the same narration from Apple. You can listen to the free sample at Audible to get a taste of my narration and hear Marcia’s lovely cello music that concludes each chapter. And handsome paperbacks are available from all good bookstores.

Audible The Farm at the East Cove Hotel

Apple The Farm at the East Cove Hotel

Word-of-mouth is my only marketing tool. If you enjoy my work I hope you’ll let your friends know. And reviews of my books at Goodreads and Amazon are always much appreciated. Thanks!

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Do Not Despair

Bad people, as my grandfather called them, thought they had successfully rigged the system so they’d win; and for a little while it seemed they had won.

But because bad people are incapable of complex thinking and are only aware of the mechanistic parts of systems, they greatly underestimated the genius of the totality of the system our founders borrowed from the Iroquois Confederacy: a system of seven layers, each layer composed of seven interlocking aspects.

So it turns out bad people haven’t won, and now the six other layers of the system – spiritual, genetic, collective, ancestral, regenerative, and metaphysical – are swiftly synergizing to thwart the actions of the bad people.

Soon our beautiful complex system will eliminate the influence of bad people, decisions will be made based on peace and consensus rather than fighting, and we will experience a social and cultural renaissance.

Hallelujah! 

fin

Through the Fire from Todd’s album Through the Fire