Merry Morning

I wished for a peaceful new year for myself, but by that I meant the peace that comes from generating excitement with my music. I think the things I want for Christmas are more things I want to disappear forever than things I want added to my life. I've got a long list.
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Report

The washroom down at Crab Park is useful for emergencies. If you can't find the toilet paper right away, don't panic. Look up, way up. Look to your right. As long as it's early enough in the morning, the rolls should still be there.
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Past the Limit

Funny how after three years of sharing my life and music online, there are still folks out there who think they can't trust me. Like the guy behind the counter at the community centre this morning. Says I can't have a basketball to use in the gym until I've been with the centre for sixty days. But my music and writing is wide open for him and his friends. People let me know when I've done good in music by heaping someone else with all my rewards. People let me know I'm a good writer by stealing every last word of my blogs. Merry Christmas, everyone! You can tell I'm happy because I live in a shelter and I have to walk around like a fucking zombie all day. Merry Christmas! Ho Ho HO
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A Titillating Tune

I'm not having any difficulty writing new songs without my guitar. I started one last night. It kind of goes like this. Verse Rhythm: ta ti-ta ti-ti-ti (times 4) Chorus Rhythm: ta TAH! ti-ti-ti, ti-ti-ti-ta ti-ti-ti, ti-ti-ti-ta ti-ti-ti, ti-ti-ti-ta ti-ti-ti Chords: G, Am, Em, and sometimes D.
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Go in Peace

The washroom in McDonald's at the Skytrain is equipped with the latest security features. A button under the counter opens its automatic doors, which are layered and open in succession. The outer doors, six inches thick and cast in tempered steel, open from the middle, like elevator doors. The next door, a much flimsier plastic one, recedes from bottom to top, much in the same way as plastic window blinds are drawn. Behind that is the original washroom door, which sports the traditional doorknob, as well as the sign saying 'Men.' Once inside, bulletproof stalls offer full security as you go about your business. The mirrors are all one-way glass, which makes me feel very safe. And to top it all off, if you try to leave without washing your hands, German Shepherds, trained to apprehend you and drag you back to the sink, are released through a concealed hatch in the floor. I heard they built it on the site of a once popular jewellery store.
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Soggy When Wet

Ha ha. Hope I'm not boring you. Here's an exciting tale. My drawing pad just had a close call in the washroom at A&W. The store's faucets are equipped with electronic eyes to dispense water whenever they detect hands - or any other object. I wasn't thinking ahead to that possibility when I dumped my tablet in there, in the mad rush to lower my fly. I heard tap water come gushing out, but it was drowned by my own gushing, and I didn't realize what had happened until I turned my gaze in that direction. By that time, a miniature Niagara Falls had done its worst against a doubled plastic grocery bag. I tried not to curse too loudly as I picked it up and wiped it dry against my shirt. Outside, under a canopy to protect me from the rain, I untied the bags and checked for damage. I'm pleased to report that it was contained to the outer edges of the first ten pages or so. Experiences like this lead me to question technology's ability to make life easier. I'm not sure it's possible. The less physical work you have, the more time you have for inescapable mental anguish. Some people appear to live their lives automatically. Machines handle all the burdens, all day long. Who am I to pass judgement? I hate burdens as much as the next guy. I just think that we were meant to struggle, and that if you remove difficulties in one area, they often seem to resurface somewhere else.
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Quacking Up

Fun day. I ended up down by the water, drawing the ducks. They like having their picture taken. Came up close while I was working. Or maybe they thought I had food. They don't hold still very well, but I managed to get a couple good sketches. To make up for the lack of detail in the ducks, I put more detail in the stones and vegetation. These pictures seem familiar. I wonder if I drew them before. Maybe I'll share them later, when I get set up again.
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Beauty Spots

One of the things I hated most about going to school was having to do it in my teen years when I had acne. No matter how smartly you dress, you can't hide it. My acne was more bumpy than red. The worst cases involved pimples growing on top of pimples, taking the shape of miniature snowmen. I had one of those on the end of my nose for a time. It impaired my vision as much as my image. One time, when I was washing the car, one of my older brothers shouted, 'Don't quit buffing those hub caps until you can see every one of your pimples in them.' I had light acne, but it was noticeable. I think I still have the impression in my chin from where the first unsightly blemish emerged around the age of thirteen. I started with a brush and then advanced to sandpaper. But if I call you zit-face, I'm not saying anything bad about your appearance. I think spotty faces are beautiful. In the absence of pimples, enlarged pores like mine are the next best thing.
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Elementary Faith

I don't think I've yet gotten around to explaining how my faith outlasted my atheism. I think it's because my faith is subconscious. Faith, in some form or other, seems necessary for living, though how much faith is needed may vary from person to person. When you think of how so many of us would like to be better off than we are, what else could be keeping us going? We're probably born with it. If faith is innate, perhaps it is developed and shaped by parents during early childhood. No matter how much you like atheism, it may already be too late for you after the age of five, depending on your parents. Of course, it's only a theory...
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Easin on Down the Road

6:00 and all's well. I'm going to try to get in a movie tonight. I saw some folks lined up for Harry Potter, which I can imagine as a holiday classic. But I lost interest in it after someone spoiled the ending for me. (Professor Dumbledorf did it in the kitchen with a lead goblet full of niblets.) It's because the movie appeals to families that I can picture it as a holiday favourite. But I sort of missed out on taking my kids to see Harry Potter, so, well, you know. Oh well, that still leaves me with Dickens' A Christmas Carol, Disney's Pinnochio, Doctor Seuss's Grinch, and lots more. I'm not complaining.
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Plan of Inaction

I guess I was exaggerating about the freezing cold. It's been unseasonably warm this year, even for this part of Canada. But it can still be chilly in the early morning. I don't have a problem with my guitar being in storage. I can do some drawing or something until I get it back.
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Crime and Pronouncement

It's easy to say my name. Here. I'll show you. Skerkowski. See? I think it's helpful when large numbers of people learn a new, difficult word. I feel very opinionated about this.
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Gracias

My membership card to this centre is stamped 'senior.' Not sure what the average lifespan is around here.
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Customer Practice

I found a way to play while my gear is in storage. It's also a good way to test guitars for a possible purchase.
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I Saw You

8:45 am, brunette in front of the newspaper stand. Our eyes met and we smiled. 8:46 am, blonde on the way into the Skytrain. You answered 'Hi' back to me when I said hi to you. 8:47 am, redhead inside the train. You teased your hair and winked at me. I smiled and winked back at you. 8:49 am, twins waiting by the door as I was exiting... ...9:57 pm, brunette at front of bus. You grabbed my sleeve and ordered me to sit next to you. I hesitated because we would have taken the only place where the new passenger with the stroller could sit safely...
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Local Haunts

My last name gave me a spelling edge on the other kids in my Grade One class. The teacher would point to me and say, 'Look at David. He knows how to spell his name.' I know. I have a long, foreign sounding name. But I am fourth generation Anglo-Canadian. Maybe it's proper that I feel like a tourist in my own country right now. At least I live in a tourist friendly town. We're all set up here for last minute accommodations. If I were a tourist here, I'd stop by historic Gastown and visit one of the pubs or restaurants. The Blarneystone serves good Guinness. And their Blarney Burger's not bad either. Another place to go and drink is the Hildon Hotel. I'm not sure if it's in Gastown.
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Permit Me This

Let me start by explaining something about permission. I asked for permission this morning to share some words of a co-resident. If that person didn't want to stand by her words, she shouldn't have given me permission. To all you people who want to know what asking permission sounds like, it sounds like this: 'DAVID, CAN I HAVE YOUR PERMISSION TO RECORD THIS SONG?' If it's for music, you don't bring a finished tape of you playing my song and ask me what I think of it. That is not asking permission to record it. And I'm sure any lawyer would agree. If it's for a blog you thought I deleted and forgot, it goes, DAVID, CAN I HAVE YOUR PERMISSION TO USE THIS BLOG?' You don't wait for me to hear the words coming from the mouths of TV personalities and for me to have to relive the often painful experiences that gave rise to my words.
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He Can't Help It

I had another thought this morning around the concept of power. Power is ugly, and this provides a motive for a good God wanting to submit to punishment at the hands of his creation. Power might be impressive, but it is scary. Think of how gentle a good God would be and how out of character it must feel for him to let his children suffer. But Jesus came here and suffered the cross, so now it is fair for him to impose suffering on us when it is necessary.
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Silence of the Dogs

I slept well. I shouldn't be complaining about this place too much. Should be grateful for it. Had an interesting chat with a pet owner here. Her dog has been allowed to come with her for the adventure. Sometimes the dog is required to wear a muzzle. I think it's great that the dog can stay here. K. is obviously a gentle animal. Her owner said that using a muzzle draws a fear response from people. It made me think of The Painted Bird. At the start of this novel, the author describes a children's game where a bird is captured, painted and released back into its flock. The other birds instinctively kill the painted bird. The owner's own comparison was more fitting. She said K. looked liked Hannibal Lechtor from Silence of the Lambs. I guess muzzles are a safeguard for people who don't know dogs. Down at the SPCA I learned which breed is most likely to bite. Black Labs. Those happy, peppy Labs. And you know what dog is most likely to swallow children whole? A Saint Bernard.
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Bottomless Pith

I'm feeling conciliatory toward the women these days. I'm sorry I made them worry about their posteriors. I was a cad. It was just that, well, you know. And they've been most encouraging with my music. I really appreciate it.
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The ABC's of Homelessness

One thing about homelessness is that it helps to improve your vocabulary by forcing you into libraries where you can stay warm and dry while you read. I love the library. I've spent a lot of time here. When I first came to Vancouver, I visited regularly. I tried to speed up my adjustment to its hippie climate by reading Herman Hesse novels. Even when I'm not transient, I still like being around people who value knowledge. Plus the women are hot. There are other options here besides reading. I'm using one of their computers to enter this blog. They also have the most comprehensive video collection in town. Any movie from any era. (I'm not sure about foreign films.) I have to laugh now when I think of the average library's audio-visual department back in the 90's. They had their movies on reels and you had to thread it through a projector. That's how I watched the entire Roots miniseries that I missed when it was on TV.
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A Concerted Effort

I vaguely recall my experience performing last night. I consider it a success. As I said, I depend on screaming girls to cover over my little slip-ups. But last night my first song, Mistaken, sounded almost perfect even without them. It's a different feeling when you play for an attentive audience in an ideal setting, but I'll get used to it. You should have heard the way I played Easy. I rewrote the whole second verse as I was singing it. Can't even remember what I sang. Lucky for me, I'm as much of a phenomena as I am an artist. It lets people find redeeming qualities in my act outside of my playing and singing - I hope. I couldn't stay to hear the other performers because I have to try to get back here by 11 o'clock or I might lose my bed. But musicians like Mike Wettering and Don Alder are veteran pros and I was honoured to share the stage with them. Thanks to the Theatre for putting on the shows that draw listeners into the lounge where I perform. And thanks to those listeners for supporting original songwriters. So that's it for 2010. I played four Monday nighters. Not much, but I hope it shows my determination. I'm sure if I keep it up, I'll smooth out my sound and get some better gigs. But right now, I guess I should find a home.
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Good Morning Campers

Warmed up on my guitar in the park and now I'm just killing some time in the computer room at the local community centre. It's called the Carnegie Centre, named after the great philanthropist, Andrew Carnegie. I don't know if Carnegie ever read Aristotle's Ethics, but there are a few paragraphs there on the virtue of magnificence. It is one of the more exclusive virtues, only attainable by the wealthy. In so many words, Aristotle explained that a good deed is its own reward, but that a great deed is even more rewarding. (It probably follows that an evil deed is its own punishment, but if you don't believe it, just watch some of those old Twilight Zone episodes from the 60's and you'll see what I mean.) In Dante's Inferno, there was a special area of Hell for good men like Aristotle who did not have the advantage of living in the time of Christ. It was kind of like a nice vacation resort. The idea was that good men do not get punished, not even in Hell. Before I go again let me remind you that I'm going onstage tonight. I have to try to do it before I run out of money for the cab fare to get my amp there and back.
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Encore

So far I've lost one pair of jeans and my wristwatch. The watch went missing last night, after I left it in the shower stall. That's okay. I think I've been returned to the critical point in history. I'm poised to get up and sing my songs today. I really hope there are no complications. I'm having the same difficulties with the security at the bus depot as I probably did before. One of the guards thinks I'm a terrorist because I have a guitar. I really want to play these songs so I can put my focus back on finding a place to live. And I hope anyone who has followed me since '07 can understand why I have my priorities like this. If you want to meet me and/or offer your support, I think you know where you'll be able to find me this evening. I would love to meet you.
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Have I Already Said This?

I need to mention another reason why I intend to perform these songs as soon as tomorrow if I'm allowed. I have to show I'm not a liar to some of the nice people who haven't heard me play them. I'm focused on it and won't relax until I've done it. Everything else is kind of secondary at this moment. But I was also thinking of including a couple carols like Good King Wenceslas in 4/4 and 5/4 and maybe God Rest Ye Moody Gentlemen. But I might not be able to squeeze that in with my own stuff. We'll see.
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Prattle Tale

...And I said to them, the same thing I told Fred, I said I remember the time I said, when Julie and Alice were in school, I said that, back when I was their age, I was saying to Jack, Jill, and JimBob, how old are you? And I said...

Audio Trial

I'm not altogether against bad music, I just like to choose it for myself. The right bad song can be a rewarding listening experience.

I recall going online to dig up some favorite bad oldies. Shut Upya Face was on top for a long time. It simply defies everything, the way it ended up on top for so long. I have to keep listening to it to understand it. If you listen to Convoy, aside from hearing a story, you'll enjoy the most celestial sounding chorus ever conceived. Those backups are great.

On the other hand, I don't like to hear other people's choices in bad songs. That happens way too often for me.

Fantastic Virgin

I'm going to try to stop whining about what happened with my songs. I'm still not a hundred percent on it and, besides, all indications are that if there ever was a problem, it's behind me now.

I like to think I've returned my listeners to the first time they heard my music, especially the women. The first time is the best time. It's the most magical time.