Thursday, December 8, 2011


We all are faced with being labelled every day by every person we meet. And we do the same with others. It's human nature, to catagorize everyone, to simplify to what we remember. Compexity isn't our nature. So with that in mind, here is what I am according to the labels most recognized.

I'm shy and an introvert. I prefer being and doing things alone, something I've known from childhood. I'm a very private person, but when I retired I decided to tell the world about myself and my life, or at least what I want to share with the world.

I hoard empty boxes. Yes, everything I buy I keep the box. I recycle shipping boxes, or most of them as I keep some to ship things to others, but I will almost always keep the original box, just in case I'll need it. I never do and never have outside of moving and then only using the boxes for special things, stereo, computers, etc. But I still keep the boxes anyway.

I have genetic, lifelong Dysthymia. It's a milder form and doesn't require drugs. I use exercise and personal work in place of drugs. I have fallen into periods of double depression at various times of my life - the feelings are never out of my mind. I have thought about and even come close to suicide. Twice, at 28 and 50. There won't be a third time, or at least to live.

I'm an INTP person on the Myers-Briggs personality test with a few differences or quirks, whichever fits. I tend to trust my intuition slightly more than my logical thinking. I'm also very hard on myself when I make mistakes, good or bad, dwelling on how stupid I feel or how bad of a decision I made, to where I often end up hating myself.

I'm also a great procrastinator about decisions, which often leads me to reply to requests or questions, "I'll think about it.", meaning either I don't want to answer no or don't have an answer right now. Small note about this is that if I respond with that twice, it means I'm not interested, and if it's the third time, it's a polite no, meaning don't ask me again.

I can not sing, dance or play an instrument. I love listening to music, but I can't understand it beyond that it feels good. I once tried to learn the guitar, actually my parents tried and I failed, because I realzed my hands work together, which works well for coordinating movement and control, but doesn't when playing an instrument.

I used to stutter, from age 6 to past 21, and while I've learned to adjust for it in public situations, it's always hiding and waiting. it's why I also respond with some sentences when a few words will answer, the sentence overcomes the possibility of stuttering. This is all instinctive to me now.

And the rest of me is something too. It's just who I am. Just am. Just like everyone else who they are, I am.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Iron Butterfly

I saw this group in concert in 1969 at the Denver show with other bands, Big Mama Thorton, Frank Zappa and Three Dog Night. I wasn't high, stoned or drunk, and this band blew me away, especially with the really long rendition of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, like 30+ minutes.

Well, I've never forgotten them or this album I bought a few months later when I had a stereo system to play. I was in technical training at Lowry AFB in Denver, Colorado before being assigned to McClellan AFB in Sacramento, California. The concert was in the old Denver stadium about where Mile High Stadium is today. The accoustics were all that great but no one minded.

We attended the Friday concert and the next night the concert had a fight with erupted into a riot and closed the concert. The Sunday afternoon concert went better. But the Friday concert was great, outside of the occasional individual being too far gone to realize where they were and needed to be helped or escorted out of the crowd.

We had good seats and stayed the whole time getting back to the barricks well into early morning. After that what can I say, I was 19 years old, it was 1969, and music was cool. And they were awesome. And for what it's worth, Erik Braun, one of the guitar players, was a violin prodigy before playing the guitar. And folks then thought rock musicians were self-taught, garage practicing players.

It's always a turn-up-the-volume album and ... the neighbors music. Even now in my 60's.