Sixth, sIck or non-. . .

. . . sense. . .

Call it a 'sixth sense', some kind of other-worldly wisdom, or just plain spooky, I have, numerous times in my life, had an ability to recognize exactly what I wanted.  And the only reason I think this is worth mentioning, is that every time I identified such a thing, pursued it and eventually obtained it, I was always content with my decision.  I don't mean chocolate candies, expensive toys, expansive mansions or excessive riches. In fact, the 'normal' material things that many of us so often crave, while some select things do appeal to me and certainly on multiple occasions I fleetingly or superficially did (and do) take a fancy to some unobtainable things, do not as a rule, consume or drive me to any great length.

This pragmatism may have been instilled in me during my formative years, being one of three children of minimally educated, blue-collar, progeny of Polish-Catholic immigrants who practiced frugality without depriving their family of necessities and not infrequently providing a number of reasonable luxuries whenever possible.  It almost seems to be a combination of the all-too-common rationalization of successive generations to 'satisfice', accepting that their lot in life will be more of the same of that pursued and experienced by their parents and a drive to become upwardly mobile.  I wanted to make what I perceived to be an enjoyable life for myself yet I wanted more than a high-school diploma and a labor or retail-centric job for the rest of my life.  I did not envision wealth, power, large material objects, boardrooms, fancy cars and world travel for myself.  I was a happy kid.  I only wanted to become a happy adult and I didn't think a protraction or a continuation of life as I knew it would provide that for me.

And I have not regretted any of the major decisions I have make in my life in matters such as education, marriage, residence and piano.  Yes, I said piano.



NO REGRETS © 2007 Raymond M. Jozwiak
From PUT A FINGER ON IT




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I did not intend. . .

. . . for this to become a chronological revisitation of my indoctrination into the school of Zappa, but I must go on a bit.

From the irreverent, unconventional, iconoclastic ’Freak Out!’ I moved onto ‘Just Another Band from LA’, which was also (ironically?) IRREVERENT, UNCONVENTIONAL and ICONOCLASTIC. I remember listening to it, where I listened to all my music, (played in all it’s glorious, vinyl, hi-fidelity on a Westinghouse, console record-player – NO, it wasn’t even stereo – that we inherited from my Grandmother) in the basement, my forerunner to what is now called a man-cave, though mine was more of a musical, adolescent-cave, keeping a watchful ear on the door at the top of the stairway just in case one of my parents should happen to wander down and catch some of the colorful language on the record. [‘Freak Out!’, by the way, contained no objectionable language whatsoever!] And since some of the language was indeed so colorful, I will not post an audio or video clip of any pieces from J.A.B.F.L.A. here, in this family-friendly, [and I am serious, I was all about decorum when raising my children (there is time enough for them to learn those things elsewhere)] blog.

So just to take my education a step further, after J.A.B.F.L.A., and to be able to post a family-friendly excerpt here, I must tell you that I purchased THE GRAND WAZOO which was like something COMPLETELY different from what I had been listening to by Frank. It was ethereal. It was spooky. It was jazzy. It was intoxicating and it was addictive. It was. . .



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