
…and…


"Ambient Music from the Mosh Pits of my Mind"

…and…

So much has happened this month. Multiple murders at the hands of The Proud Boys…er… ICE. Journalists arrested, civil liberties trampled, our “leader” behaving belligerently, children being victimized by government agents and used as bait. It all makes me feel spiritually dry, hopeless, ashamed, saddened, ANGRY!

I struggle to live the words that so many of my spiritual guides teach. Love my enemy (Jesus), have unconditional good-will to all (Buddha), be an instrument of peace (Francis of Assisi). It all feels incredibly unattainable. I want to follow the examples set by all the spiritual leaders and thinkers I have spent years learning and admiring. But it all becomes so unreachable when I see, as an example, Stephen Miller, The White House Deputy Chief of Staff, telling obvious lies with a smug bitterness that makes me want to act violently. I find it impossible to have any love towards the man who is largely responsible for unleashing of the present government-sanctioned racist violence. I genuinely despise this man and his boss.

I can feel that anger eating at me, taking away any peace. Despair and anger exhaust me.
BUT…..
I’m reminded that I alone will only have despair and anger in the face of such negativity, that I need help. This is the message Jesus said about loving the enemy when he predicated all he did with prayer, that it was prayer that provided the means to love the enemy. And the Buddha reached the understanding of METTA after much error and reflection. And St. Francis didn’t just become an instrument of peace. He prayed to become that instrument. And that is where, when I find myself so spiritually dry and brittle, I realize I can’t do anything good or noble on my own. I need to foster that spiritual connection. And when I do, I’m less angry at Stephen Miller, Donald Trump, and the rest of the people currently causing so much pain and fear. That is not to say I’m ready to love them yet. I’m not a saint. But I see the connection between a spiritual relationship in the form of prayer and meditation with a Higher Power and the hard work of agape. That, in fact, is what makes Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. so remarkable in my eyes.
SO…..
I’m reminded that, when I feel so spiritually dry, I need prayer and meditation for guidance, strength, courage, and love. In the words of St. Francis of Assisi:

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
AMEN!!!!!

I’ll have more to write about Mr. Weir when I return from my upcoming travels, but I will say that his music meant a lot to me in my older years. That is ironic as I used to despise the Grateful Dead (close minded Heavy Metal elitist that I was). But in the last 10 years, his music, be it with GD, Dead and Co., the Wolf Brothers or with whomever has truly become foundational to my music listening life. Again, I’ll write more when I get back but….
God bless Bob Weir and thank you for the great music.




He is Lemmy Kilmister. He played Rock and Roll. He was a man of integrity and honesty. Some would say he was crude. I would say he was admirable and inspirational. He suffered no fools, lived life honestly and without pretense, and (by many accounts) was a kind and generous man…..Oh, and by the way, he was a pioneering and pivotal figure in the history of Rock and Roll. It’s hard to believe it has been 10 years since his death. Long may his memory remain!

I wish you all a blessed 2026. May peace and every good be yours. Cheers,
Alan

Ace Frehley was my 1st guitar hero. Kiss was my first musical love. They were my 1st obsession. Kiss Alive was the 1st album I ever bought with my own money. It was the 1st album to hook me and haunt me. They filled my childhood, which was at that point filled with fear and anger, with excitement and joy.
My obsession for Kiss long since diminished but I’d be remiss if I didn’t honor the passing of Ace Frehley who passed away 16-Oct. 2025. His death does sadden me as yet another pivotal figure of my life moves on. He joins Ozzy, Eddie Van Halen, Jeff Beck, Neil Peart, Harold Budd, Vangelis, Lemmy, Prince, Tom Petty, David Bowie, Charlie Watts, Pete Way…and on and on…as people that meant so much to me, whom I never met but who contributed to memories and moments as real and as important and any attributed to my friends and family. Their departure from this life hits me in a very real way, perhaps not as acute as a loved one but no less real. Their departure is a reminder of the passage of time and a closing of a door to further contributions from their artistry to impact my life further. Yes, I still have the contributions from when they were alive and those contributions will live on in a way, but there will not be another Sabbath album or a VH show to go to, or an entertaining story about Ace Frehley. The door is now shut.
Thank you, Ace, for giving a scared, angry kid a joyous outlet that provided so much joy. May your soul be at peace.
