Musings from the basement...

Finally finishing a music project feels great!

It feels like forever since I finished a music project. That’s because it’s been since pre-pandemic since I finished anything, and pandemic time has been an eternity. I do music because it gets something out of my system. If I go too long without creating some sounds, I get antsy. So I’m glad to have finally finished something. Granted, all of this material was recorded pre-Covid. It just took me that long to put it all together — not because it was difficult, but because my head just wasn’t in it. Such has been Covid life. But it’s finished, and I’m happy with it. These are guitar soundscapes and ambient drones, meant for the background or, if you just want to clear your head, for…
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“It’s Nice to Eat the King” is my first new music recording in a year

Recording music was an escape for me. My focus on big, layered sonics, ambiance and sometimes even downright noise came in no small part because I can get lost in all that sound. It’s meditative. Relaxing. Soothing despite the noise. But for some reason, the pandemic has coincided with the longest musical dry spell I’ve experienced in years. Aside from some digital music created last year for a project I will post about another time, I haven’t created anything. Nothing at all. Hell, I went nearly a year without even picking up the guitar, much less writing something on it. Until last night. That’s when a sonic jam accidentally spilled out while testing some equipment. And damn, it felt good to create again. It’s a…
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14 Seconds: Short Fiction

14 seconds of oxygen left. She pulled at the airlock handle again. It wouldn’t budge. She could feel the heat of the flames behind her and the ringing of the damned klaxon was boring into her skull and the handle wouldn’t budge, because of course it wouldn’t, and the klaxon wouldn’t shup up. 13 seconds of oxygen left. When she was 12, she wanted to ride horses. She knew it was a cliché even then, but it didn’t deter her. She wasn’t the princess type, she didn’t dream of elegant gowns and fancy ballrooms and Prince Charmings, but horses? Absolutely. The more horses the better. Not riding side saddle with a stiff back and “proper” air, though. That wasn’t her. She wanted to ride horses…
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The Girl and the Dog: Fiction Fragment

She reached down for the water bottle at her side, remembered it was empty only when she brought to her lips, sighed, and hung her head. “I should have stayed in the city.” She knew she was wrong about that, of course. The city is where it all started. Things were still bad there. And the smell? She didn’t want to think about the smell. But at least she knew what to do in the city. What abandoned stores to search, which apartments had storerooms others might now know about, what neighborhoods were left at least somewhat intact after the Event. She could find something to eat there. Something to drink. A place to sleep. Hell is other people, though, as someone once said. However…
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Sign me up for this Father’s Day beer box, please!

I’ve followed the craft beer world for a lot of years, as a former beer columnist for the Philadelphia Weekly, a writer for HomeBrew Talk, and just plain as an enthusiast for varied taste experiences. Over the years, I’ve encountered many beer gift boxes and/or monthly beer clubs. You know the ones I’m talking about. Seemingly random mix packs at your local beer shop, or Beer of the Month clubs that send you an array of beers in the mail each month. To be frank, most of the time these mix packs are kind of awful. The beers are often old, the selections are lousy (and are likely made up of overstock rather than by choice made by discerning craft beer geeks), and they’re just…
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