Fifteen. . .

Fifteen minutes of glory
Maybe less
What I wouldn't give for the chance
To confess
All my intimate secrets
All my hopes and my desires
I don't care just how valid
You think that they are
They've been mine for a long long time
And I'm not ashamed of them

Shut up Joe
How do you really know
What's going down
How can you tell if there's a problem somewhere
To be found
We all need to gather round
To help everybody else to see
That running your mouth aloud
Makes it that much more difficult
For you and me
And our integrity

Went to work at the factory
At fourteen
Thought I'd finish my schooling
Sometime in between
Drunken weekends and futile street fights
And the visits to my best girl
But the time slipped away
I've got bills here to pay
I've got small ones depending on me
My vision is limited

Shut up Joe
How do you really know
What's going down
How can you tell if there's a problem somewhere
To be found
We all need to gather round
To help everybody else to see
That running your mouth aloud
Makes it that much more difficult
For you and me
And our integrity

All my life I've known
I'd want to say
Something to my
Fellow man today
Couldn't let the facts
Get in the way.

We weren't that well acquainted
Never were
An occasional run-in
We preferred
There's one thing that we both believe in
Heard it over and over again
It was something about
All the fondness we felt
How the heart can't miss what's not around
If the mind doesn't value it

Shut up Joe
How do you really know
What's going down
How can you tell if there's a problem somewhere
To be found
We all need to gather round
To help everybody else to see
That running your mouth aloud
Makes it that much more difficult
For you and me
And our integrity


Integrity
©2008 Raymond M. Jozwiak




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Good. . .

. . . times. . .

In the early 70s, the members of the wedding combo of which I was a member (Reflection, by name), thought our regeneration (after the comings and goings of members in different combos) would be more thorough with a name change and finally settled upon the catchy moniker FUL TREATMENT (yes, ONE 'L') which accurately captured our ability to navigate the crosscurrents of musical genre and essentially play ANYTHING that ANYBODY wanted.  This gloriously selfless intention was more true in theory than practice, but our intentions were sincere, particularly at the start, although that facet of our existence did deteriorate somewhat in time.

Music, fun, abundant work and money were ours.  Good times, as they now say.  Our repertoire had evolved and developed during this period to include Bungle in the Jungle, You're So Vain,  Games People Play (Jethro Tull, Carly Simon and The Spinners respectively).  But then, in what seemed to be a not very long time later, Bruce (our drummer) resigned (abdicated his drum throne-pun intended).  My sister, who at the time worked for the state government, had become acquainted with a young man at the office who, in addition to charming all the ladies there (including her), was a drummer.  Not only was he a drummer, he was a drummer who was receptive to the idea of joining our little musical organization.  His name was Jeff. 

Jeff  'auditioned' and was quite impressive on many levels. He had a powerful touch, yet not without the ability to sensitively accompany a slow ballad. While not subtle, his drumming was strong, steady and something of a departure from his predecessor. We missed Bruce both personally and musically, but we welcomed Jeff and enjoyed the markedly different rhythm keeper and dynamic, debonair character that had become our drummer. I, more than the other members of the band, began spending additional amounts of personal time with Jeff, enjoying his captivating stories, his outrageous personality and his knowledge and appreciation of musical styles. Jeff and I visited many and varied drinking and eating places after gigs and I'd found that not only had the band acquired a fine new drummer, I had found a fun and fascinating new friend.

Keith, our guitarist and one of the founding members, had by this time decided to leave the band, an event that was somewhat bittersweet, as we sometimes longed for a guitarist with a different style.  But he certainly possessed many good qualities, was reliable and added musicality not infrequently.  Jeff had oft-times mentioned his seminary-educated, guitar-playing brother Jay who was also a founding member of a different, uniquely original music-playing organization called OHO. Jeff indicated that Jay would be interested in joining our combo in order to make some money because then, as now, local, original musicians weren't reaping great sums playing their own compositions.  I had no inkling at the time that this event would influence both my music and a substantial portion of my life.  But it has. 

Charisma evidently ran in Jeff and Jay's family, as Jay possessed possibly even more of it than his younger, drummer brother.  Jay somehow was more in control of the charisma with a certain maturity added to it, along with an additional self-confidence that may have been attributable to his age. Similar as they would appear from my description here, they were actually quite different from each other in reality.  But the musical combination radically changed the performances of Ful Treatment much for the better.  Jay rocked.  [And still does]  And following his lead, Ful Treatment rocked as well, at least on some of our repertoire, which at the time included 'You Really Got Me', 'Wild Thing', 'Needles and Pins' 'Twist and Shout' and 'Heat Wave'.  We were all young and relatively carefree, and more frequently than was wise, a gig would turn into a party. . . for the band. 

After  a period, as always occurs in such mini-organizations, Jeff decided to leave the band.  Jay was able to recruit alternate (with Jeff) OHO drummer David and, viola, the rest is history.  At least it's a big part of MY musical history.  Ful Treatment, in the ultimate configuration probably only played together for several years.  But they were fun years. 

I kept somewhat in touch with Jay in the intervening years.  He always treated me to an LP or CD of things he was working on musically.  Then about 2003, I read in the Baltimore CityPaper that OHO was performing at a local venue and I was determined that I would patronize same.  Various associations between Jay and myself (musical showcases at Gallery G in Hampden,  Mystic I) transpired.  Then in early winter of 2011 Jay, David and myself (sans any saxophonist) began rehearsing for Schlongtasm 29 (a showcase of musical acts brought together each year to celebrate Airiad Records' Dan Long's birthday.)  The ex-Ful Treatment rhythm section were reunited after 32 years as the latest incarnation of OHO, playing substantial amounts of original music and covers of far greater integrity . . . and of course, now infinitely wiser,

Good Times INDEED.

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A story . . .

. . . that may never, and possibly should never, be told.  It's not a story of a long lost love newly found.  Nor is it the hear-wrenching tale of a family's struggle to survive or to cope with the loss or illness of one of its members.  Not a love story or an account of injustice righted or never righted.  It's actually a story of a fungus.

The story is also one about integrity, honesty, enthusiasm, communication, timing and ignorance.  It began innocently with curiosity at the sighting of an unusual fungal growth which produced a much larger physical manifestation than one normally encounters on a lawn, wood or otherwise green area. And since there was sincere doubt as to the true identity of the specimen, a curious (have I used the word innocent yet?) the layman which encountered it chose to physically probe or otherwise accost the specimen in question out of sheer curiosity. In so doing, the uninitiated soul, without malice or intention of destruction, put an abrupt end to the life of the initially-mentioned fungal being without realizing the full range of implications, mainly as the result of past encounters with such earthly phenomena, albeit of much smaller stature and girth, which were clearly, or practically obviously, not beneficial to humankind as either nourishment or ornamentation.

Not long after the above described encounter, the party involved discovers through casual and friendly discourse, that someone possesses an enthusiastic and affectionate fascination with the very fungus by whom the former was confronted the very day prior.  Turns out the specimen is (most likely) beneficial to humankind as nourishment and may also, in the individual matter of one's own subjective opinion, be perceived as quite beautiful. In fact, the subject of the confrontation was brought up by the very one that accosted the fungus. After conversationally mentioning the encounter with the object and it's particularly impressive dimensions, the culprit learned that the appearance of this particular species had been eagerly anticipated by another party close to the situation and that he would be absolutely thrilled to learn of its whereabouts so that it could be further nurtured and possibly soon harvested.

Due to the phrasing of the initial casual observation and impression, as well as the ardent response that revelation prompted, the culprit was at a loss to relate the details of the complete encounter, i.e. the disengaging of the life form from it root/base.  And that inability haunted the culprit for an indeterminate amount of time with its accompanying feelings of guilt, dishonesty, disingenuousness and lack of integrity.

In hindsight, the best clear, concise, honest way the culprit could and should have related the original thought would have been to include the part about disengaging the thing from its trunk at the very beginning.  But, after all is said and done, a simple and heartfelt apology, although the dastardly deed was done innocently, would certainly not have hurt a thing.

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Admirable . . .

. . . yes. . . Admiral? . . .   

No.

Inspirational and simply correct.  In the face of so much adversity in the form of office politics and some basic, simple, downright ignorance, one who can maintain his/her integrity while according all due respect, even to those promulgating the politics and victim to the ignorance.  I find it admirable and worthy of the utmost respect.  In my own, simple, lazy way, I try to emulate this most noble tack.

I fear however, that when more time is spent in discussing the aforementioned adversity that can be spent on pure, positive, pro-activity, sooner or later. . .

something's gotta give. 

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