Dave’s Grateful Dead Pick #38: Dave Lemieux’s Myopia

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Dave’s Pick #38 (Uniondale, 09/08/73) is a good show, starting with Bertha and Me and My Uncle, has El Paso and China Cat>Rider and moves out with Goin’ Down the Road>Not Fade Away. That said, it’s just more of the same because of Dave Lemieux’s myopia.

Consider Dave’s liner notes: Every moment with Dick Latvia, every interaction, every word he said was memorable. And then: Every song, every solo, every moment was out-of-this-world excellent. Yeah, Lemieux is the guy at the ballpark who yells “Home run” for every pop-out. (And I mean every pop-out.)

More to the point, Lemieux’s maniacal vision of the archives -1968-74 & 76-80 being holy relics and 1987-95 his personal nostalgia – denies everyone else the belly of the beast, the bleeding heart of The Grateful Dead, the music that must be shared.

Lemieux is a nice guy in a dancing bear suit, not the person to manage the archives. It’s time to get someone else in there before this whole thing ends up a Broadway show.

Pro-Mask Post-Pandemic

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The thing is that some people just look better with a mask on. That is just a fact.

Doesn’t the Fearless Girl look better like this?

And so, what are we going to do for them when this pandemic ends? Can’t they still keep their masks on? Or will they be shamed for that? What’s wrong with letting them do that?

Writing Process: Knowing Something Clearly

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I feel like I know something now, something with clarity. Or just not so lost. Might have even got somewhere. Probably not. But I feel like that.

I’ve never known who the hell I am, and now I’m thinking that I just might. I am a white male, and an older one at that. But that’s not it. I’m not even an asshole, like so many people have said. I know that’s just them being lost and new.

I have come to somewhere and I know something about that. It’s not much but it feels like it might be something. I just hope that I can sell and then get that Malibu estate, be surrounded by beautiful people and complain about the masses.

And how great it was getting to where I got.

No One is Lazier Than a Writer

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The writer is lazy simply they will do anything – organize drawers, clean the bathroom, write a blog – just to get out of work.

Pandemic Accomplishments: Final Edition?

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With the pandemic winding down in New York, I thought It time to offer a final list of Pandemic Accomplishments.

Most importantly for me, I completed the final draft of Anori (well, almost).

Soon to be sent off for another professional edit

I applied for 80+ jobs across America (including Atlanta, San Francisco, Boston and New York, Europe (London, Lisbon, Salzburg, Rome, Zurich, Paris and Barcelona to name a few) as well as Kathmandu. Still looking. Hmm.

I travelled to Maine, Oregon, California, Rhode Island and Martha’s Vineyard.

Sunrise view in Maine

I raised the daily visits for this blog from 30+ views per day to 150+ views per day.

I had both of my knees replaced, had nine Covid-19 tests and was vaccinated.

Those empty train days

I have basically kicked my Fishdom addiction after reaching Level 2865. Although I might check in again one of these days.

Does Any of This – Black Lives or Vaccines – Actually Matter?

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The job of the writer is to engage people on the horrors of the world even if they don’t care – they do not! – about all of the wrongs because it is how they themselves pretend to be willing to die for truth but actually only care about when their time will come and how their children might cry about that and then carry on and be worse.

So, no, none of it really matters.

Writing Process: The Almighty Opening

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Every time that I open Anori – something I have done a couple of thousand times – and wait as the document slowly loads, my always eye fastens on the opening line. And it’s never what I want, which has led me to change it some fifty or sixty times.

Dee watched the police car turn down the empty street and vanish on the other side of the park.

The keys to this sentence are a. the police car, b. the viewpoint (from a penthouse apartment) and c. the winds of Hurricane Sandy.

Jostled by the winds, the police car vanished on the other side of the park, as Dee slid the balcony door closed.

And then I think it’s all too much and that I only need the bare bones: The police car vanished on the other side of the park. But, that doesn’t work. Neither does: Dee braced herself as the gusts of wind came up again.

I want to communicate an isolated and brooding tone in the opening, something like Dee stood alone watching the police car as it went from sight on the far side of the park. But not that either.

Floating in the Water

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“I like to float in the water.” Michael was a long-lost friend, quiet; it was like he knew more about me that I ever would. “I just lie back and drift, you know, my nose just above the surface and look up through the water. It’s more like meditation, I guess.”

“But I can never hold it. I feel too vulnerable, like something will come up under me and bite me in half. I always freaking myself out like that.”

Editing the Gangly Bits: Writing Process

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I had a scene with some real problems. The background information was heavily front-loaded, and it was repetitious and awkward and gangly and sputtering and bad.

And so I hacked it up, rendered it down, patched it to another equally sputtering bad thing, did some cauterizing and cutting again and thought I was on the way to something new.

Silhouetted rocks on Oregon coast

But it had become a bald thing, nothing in it, the description and progression and dialogue trimmed to nothing, the conclusion non-existent. And so I started to write it all over again.

Gaslight Ghosting

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Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse where someone is made to question their perception of reality. (The term is derived from the film Gaslight where the husband lowered the gaslight incrementally and told his wife the light had never been changed.)

Ghosting is a method of terminating a relationship by suddenly withdrawing from all communication without explanation.

Gaslight ghosting, also called Extreme Ghosting, means to make someone question their perception of reality by withdrawing all communication without explanation.

In other words, the practices that most employers inflict on their employees.