Math W/YardWork, "If you dont wanna work (Live: HeckYEAHCoffeeHub)"

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Really, YardWork, the regional, national, global and universal implications of your sounds and styles and sets are clear, and fun.

The first time I heard this song was on a Friday night at Lunchbox Records. I "had" to work the next day at the corner of Cool & Cool. I applied the philosophy later that Saturday afternoon by telling my "boss" and "manager" that I did not want to work again the next day, Sunday, Easter. I wanted to go ride my mountain bike with Billy and The Slim Rookie My Brother and Swammi and whoever that kick ass old dude was who rides with Swammi. I was told the it was "Easter" and "there will be a two hour wait" (I was working as the bitch of a reataurant at the time so that meant i was to "host" the Easter brunch-goers) and that "the entire staff" had been called in to work this one. Not one to overlook logic I immideatly realized that things would be fine if the whole staff would be there. I also realized it was my last day at "work" there and that I would be celebrating my own holiness and all of everyones by being outside where I could see the Sun(son).

That feeling, sitting there knowing, knowing I'm walking away and being ok, whole and happy, available and present is a glorious one. It is in us all. I talk to people who dont understand it and I try to help them see that they won't. There is no way to approach anything that is an illusion from a logical standpoint or approach feelings of fear or guilt from a holy standpoint. And that letting go is as easy as admitting that you know... you know you know.

Play this tune a few times and e mail the guys from YardWork and tell them you want a CD. Because you do.

Price per Barrel

Images from a "ride" I took yesterday. Out the backyard, down the hill, across the 485 bridge, just over it cut across field into neighborhood, down/up hill, into woods single track, tons of technical work out at the Indian Rock, jumps, cut onto sewer path, get a response to my question as i see a white tail deer, cross a creek, get into the thick of it, following deer path, running between 485 and BallanToon golf course, get into the thick of it with thorns, think about ticks, think about how thistle is an invasive species and its everywhere, lay bike down, go look at traffic flying by on 485 in gas bubblers, disappear like a yeti back into the woods, jump out onto golf course, see a huge no trespassing sign, get off as fast as i can, come out on a office complex under construction road, see a huge dirt berm made to look and feel like pump track, ride until im coughing up dust, laugh about how i used to do this here when i was 11 and it was all woods. oh well. later chased down a roadie in the bike lane and passed him tucked into a downhill roll. he fought back on the climb and i stuck to his wheel. i took a right into the thick of it car style and he kept going.

When I saw the barrel i couldnt help but think of the phrase price per barrel and then over the barrel. I cant help but connect the two as i look closely at what it is daily costing America to keep its moods and modes.

I'm...

How am I getting these shots? Did you all notice Frank hangin out in these images? It is just a camera phone but I'm not.

I want to go swimming in deep water.

GO TO HELL, ARLIEGH!

Dear Readers,
Arliegh can go to Hell.

She can suffer and burn in Hell.

She can take an airplane straight to Hell and get off and starve in Hell.

And I want you to help DAMN her!

Thats right, by clicking on where I just wrote "DAMN her" you can cast yer vote in this years St. Cruz (he's dreamy) bicycle competition open to the psycho-public also known as the Hell Ride. Last year a little known man from the Queen City that goes by the moniker Team Dicky won and went out to CalaFornEyeAya and got lost and gnashed his teeth and got poked with a pitchfork and that made Arliegh want to do the same thing. High high mountains with little oxygen and steep descents that go off in each direction towards the souls of the lost and damned, for, it is Hell!

You might be asking, "Mr. Math Teacher, who is this Arliegh you are speaking of?"

SHES THE WRENCH WHO BUILT THE BIKE THAT I RODE ACROSS NORTH AMERICA ON, any more preguntas?

Yeah. Think about it, pray about it, but get your eyes and clickish fingers over to the web site and vote for her to GO TO HELL!

Oh, go to www.arsbars.com to look into her world.

Thanks all, and I know that the 2 to 3 votes this brings her way are going to be the little drops of goodness that make it all happen.

Ill see you in Hell, Arliegh!

H2O for Humans in H3's

The grass in front of BallanToon Jewelers is very important, and it is very important that the grass is green, because when the grass is greener on your side life is gooder, too, also, and your jeweles will shine brighter and prettier...

One Saturday ago I saw a neighbor's spp-ppp-ppp-ppp-rrr-iii-nnn-kkkk-lll-eee-rrr-sss going off in the middle of the afternoon under a 99degree-on-the-news-111-street-level-atmosphere. The water was hardly making it through the stale, thick and hazy air before it made its "hey!-I-didn't-get-to-be-a-cloud-yet" trip back to the surface of the Earth. Three sprinkling heads were positioned to pop up and cover all ares of the postage stamp that is worshiped from behind closed windows in an AC'd house. I walked home and put the grocerys and the dog inside and walked back over to the neighbors house. Before I knocked I composed myself and asked that I not be angry or scary in any way.

When the home owner opened his door I smiled and said, "Hi, I'm your neighbor (motioned to my house) and I would like for you to please turn your sprinkler off." He hadn't opened the glass/screen door and he sort of cocked his head and looked cracked out and said something like, "I'm sorry?"
I said, "Yes, we're in a major drought, were something like seventeen inches in the negative on our water table..."
"Were allowed to water on Saturday's," he said.
"Yes. Well, if you choose to do so could you please either water very early in the morning or late at night when the sun is down? If you water in the heat of the day like this it is really just a major waste; most of the water evaporates before it even hits the grass and that which does make it surely won't reach the root system. It's a bit innefficient."
A moment of thought passed, I cycled into a slow and quite out-breath.
"Yeah, I could set it to do that," he said.
"My name is Jordan Moore, by the way," I tagged on as he closed the main door. I can't be sure that he cared to know the name of his neighbor who was out and about acting like Ben Franklin or Thinky Mc1850's. I don't care. We have to act like that. Really use our noodles and spout off, in very respectful ways.

When we observe it is for action, not for frustration, and a distinct personality can rock another's world. Where would you be without your examples, heros, leaders, writers, teachers, friends?

AS I walked away I noticed that his sprinkler turned off and today I noticed that they were on super early this morning when I was heading out to get in a bike/run/ware-Mr. Wolf-out session at Col. Jason Baily Park. Yes, I do some biking from time to time. Y'a'll'a'll want to hear about some of that? Maybe.

Oh, well, this is what I saw today when I left the ToonFood during a downpour...





The mushroom is a) pretty and b) just bloomed when I took it's photo. It is an Oyster Mushroom, or Pleurotus ostreatus, and is a delicacy. It is also carnivorous, eating microscopic round worms and therfore making nitrogen. If you see one near you feel lucky and hungry. Prolly in a stir-fry or stuffed with Israeli Cous Cous with melted goat cheese.

Math, "This Suicide"

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A friend of mine recently pointed out how he's suicidal. I am too. So are you. By living where we do, how we do, and i guess I should tack on "why" we do now, we are all by definition suicidal. Thats when I sat down and recorded the song that's up above the heads of these letters. Kind of like the 1,000,000 flights a day about our heads. Im not bitching, Im really trying to use my super powers to get people to actually talk to one another about how we can begin retrofitting our own personalitys in order to let go of the wasteful behavior. Hey, it might be fun... actually kind of... a good time???

I dont care what you say, you cant block it out and it does affect you. And im not blaming any one person because how could I? But I am one person who wants to speak to more and more people about what we can do to stop this insane suicide.

The AIR we are BREATHING is POISON. And before you change the chanel, trust me, I can think like this. I'm not angry and commiting a "real" suicide or "crime", Im simply pointing out, with intention and focus, that the AIR we are BREATHING is POISON.

You're right, what good is my opinion...

PERHAPS YOU WOULD LISTEN TO THESE TWO? (click it)

Life Is Good!

Tomorrow will be one week exactley from when I experienced the most ironic moment I think may ever happen to me.

I have been observing the "life is good" phenomenon for a while now. People who are so impressed with the rate at which we as a nation can waste resources, time and energy and how convenient that makes "life" appear to be that they willingly go ahead and put a sticker on their car or don a cap or t shirt or hand bag or frisbee that promotes the company/idea "life is good".
The first variation I came up with is that life is gooey. That makes more sense biologically. Then I came up with life is food, which makes a bit more sense on a bio/socio level. Neither of those have caught on and life seems to be "good" only.

Is life good because it's raining jet fuel out of the sky over our backyards, because here in the JAR a minimum of 1,000,000 auto engines are turning and burning for 10 hours on a daily basis, because we have interior AC units on 1.5million homes that make the insides cooler and the oustides poison, because every car lot in C(h)ar-lotte has 700 heat reflecting overstock auto-vipers sitting on its black tar space, because right now people are at thier jobs which require them to double click away acres upon acres of trees which are the lungs of our planet, because trees once the outside temp feels like (not is according to yer newscast) but feels like 105 quits going through the process of turning out fresh oxygen because it is in a fight for its own life? Or is it really just access to malls and Zaxby's and FootLockers and food-to-the-face boxes that makes these individuals feel like silently and acceptably shouting to the world kind of that they think life is so damn good?

Well, in true fashion the more one focuses on something the more prevelant it becomes. I see it everywhere now. Because it is. One week ago tomorrow The Dude and I had met up at the ToonFood as a rendevous to ride our green-transport-machines aka bicycles to the movie theatre to see a flick thats been on my mind to see. To get there we only had about 1.5 miles, maybe, of hardball roda structure to cover. Part of that route took us over the 485, the JARs solution to traffic by making traffic. The bridge opens up to a three lane highway that has traffic coming in off a wide right turn at about 60 mph. When we got to a certain point we made eye contact and without words decided it was better for the future of our lives to flank it up side by side and take the entire lane, forcing the issue that cars would have to go around us in one of the 2 other lanes they had to choose from. Not seconds after we made our decision came a vocal ass clown in a pearly white jeep cherokee (yes, like the race our nation killed off) with his bloated wife in the passenger seat and a five year old kid in the back. He yelled as he slowed beside us, "YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE ROAD!" Before he finished I was hitting back verbally with an eight letter phrase that means exactly what it says. That made him want to fight and punch. He slowed to look at me and his wife accused me of having foul language. I asked him if he was really interested in pulling over and making anything more out of a situation he was creating in front of his child who has seen 700Xs worse im sure out of this pecker-wood. When I looked in right at him to let him know that there was no joke being joking'd about I saw it. Tucked in, pressed, and freshly unfolded: a "life is good" t - shirt. With a cartoon bicycle on it.

I burst into laughter.

Total disbelief.

I told him to look at his t shirt. I laughed again. Suddenly it became so clear. I retook my position next to the man with the strength of a baby mule and I sat in the middle of a Hwy on a steel frame single speed mountian bike and I just laughed. Of course. Ya know. Life may be good because all these yokels/yuppies/buckets/its-all-the-same-mentality-ers have the world at their material loving finger tips. Fine. Life was great to me in that moment. It was damn near generous. Getting to experience being treated like that was somehow the funniest and best thing about life. That douce is living with anger and judgement, so for him he has to defend his good life.

Meanwhile the man behind the wheel of the auto which is full of gas and working for him (which makes life good) sat out ahead of us, rolling slowly and staring in the rearview mirror, wife making threats to call the law, son taking it all in and learning that this is how you treat other individuals.

Kid in the back, sorry you had to hear a certain range and frequency of vocabulary before yer time, but really, hold strong to it and one day use it to free yerself from the control of that goofball cracker father of yers. And that hand gesture The Dude was doing that involved two fingers and his tounge is also critical to yer development. Don't forget it.

Well, there it is people, the Life is Good, post! Remember, as long as the cartoon on yer shirt is having a ball then you must be too and no thats not jet fuel you feel on yer skin or poison in yer lungs, it a magic reward for all our wonderful inventing we've been up to.


Ain't life grand?

This one's for you, Emily Chasklebomb

Emily thinks that her fear of clowns started as a kid when she was forced to sit and eat cereal and watch episodes of "Bozo the Clown" while her dad negotiated big-time deals with some tennis pro named Pearlman. She also thinks it has something to do with the time she woke up in her basement and "Killer Clowns from Outer Space" was playing on the tv. Thats not the last time that she has experienced waking up in the middle of the night to mind altering matter. A few months ago she was asleep on the couch and an object on her mantle that her semi-pro-kickball-coach-common-lawwers mother had given them that was blue fell to the ground and shattered. It woke her up and on the tv was the face of one Nick Tripplet, leader of the JARs Green Party, who was being interviewed as a candidate for sitty council. He lives right across the street from her on Thomas Ave, and that in and of itself is creepy. The across the street neighbors face being pumped into your living room and you only see it because an inanimate object commits suicide? PAY ATTENTION!!!

Emily's favorite part of the Bozo the Clown show was the ball toss game that required maluable children participants to throw a ping pong ball in a series of buckets to win cash and fame a glory.

I hope you enjoy the clip I've put up, Emily. I reeaaally do...

Math, "Lake Placid (Live)" @ HeckYeahCoffeeHub

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Yesterday I got a call from B-Thomp-Thomp, owner and resident of HECK YEAH, a coffee cooperative started on a whim when a Shaman's hand rubbed a clear little circle on a foggy window. He asked me if I would have any interest in playing a set before a guy named JasonCyman who is on tour in a car from Brookline, Manhattan, Corcoran, NY, USA played his stuff. Yes. Well, it took a few minutes of thinking, all I was doing at the time was sitting in a hammock reading "Animal Vegetable Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver. Its non-fiction so it won't spoil them mind, so go ahead and order a copy. Now. Really.

I needed new strings for my aix so I went to the Sam Ash music store. Now theres an experience. Its like a REI for musicians and it took me about 25 minutes to get in and buy one set of acoustic Dean Markley Alchemy's. Read the Alchemist , non fiction as well for your own life will intertwine with the book, and then you will understand why I had to have these strings and there were no other strings to buy at that point. Whatever.

I went and saw Charlotte's finest guitar tech and single-speed guru, the Biggest Werm, and we strung it and tuned it and then sat and played it front porch-style for a while until I realized that it was 45 minutes past when I was supposed to get to the coffee shop. When I arrived there was a fleet of Vespas parked afront the shop and plenty of folks milling about so I retuned my new strings and started playing about nine. The first song I played is one called "Lake Placid" that I wrote few weeks ago, and thats what you can hear today. I wish I would have recorded the next one too because DJ sat down on the drums and played some wonderful two-step beats behind some country goodness I've been working on and it was the first time anybody really got to hear it, including myself. I've been so in love with Honey lately that I had to write a song and sing about it. At one point I asked the crowd if they had any requests and I wasn't able to play a single one of them. Nice. Then I played "Tom Sawyer" by Rush and a few others and then Jason played. Skinny fella from Tupelo with soulful vibes who opened with "Let My People Go". Yeah, that was nice. His pitch was amazing and he reminded me of crickets in the night and lanterns, dusty moth wings and screen-door slams. Thanks Jason and good luck on your car journey of music.

Thanks to all who came out last night as well, especially L-Stem and Chasklebomb. I appreciated hearing a response to that which came out of my sloar plexus and throat.

Do Not Be Confused

Confusion is the 9mm of the ego. It's there and speaks louder than the mouth, lungs or heart. When you feel confused make sure you ask it to go ahead and step behind you. You don't need it.

On the first day of June, a Sunday, Billy and I took off out of the jar on flight F-150, destination Big Mountain Transfer with EuroNate. Please click here and read a full report of the days events as recorded by Billy. The story was amazing and real and so fun it's hard to convey in a written document.

I want to address the legal implications of what we experienced on the Blue Ride Parkway that fine June yesterday. We were stopped not by cops but by our own hippy mechanical systems. So, when I say "we were stopped" I mean literally we had stopped ourselves. Waiting. Chit chatting with Lt. FirstRide and Old Man Hiking Sticks. When I saw a truck hanging onto the hardball surface of the Pkwy with all fours, frame steering towards where it was told but body leaning towards the direction of the Reactive centrifugal force I used my equal and oppostie LOUDNESS to arrest the objects motion. Worked. Full on stoppage. Park Ranger, serious by and for nature, 9mm and Tazer and confusion on his we little belt. He wanted to know what I had yelled and I told him to slow down again. Billy mentioned the fact that he could feel the speed without seeing it but we were assured that the speed limit was 45mph and that he was doing 35mph to maybe 40mph. The little man had further instructions for us to wait, however, for an even more real officer of the law for nature but not natural law to show up, for there were questions about our involvement in an earlier voice box/1st ammendment matter at the scene of a crime that we had passed through in order to still be on our planned route of journey. What?

Lets just stop here and consider two phrases:

A - Probable Cause

and

B - Reasonable Suspicion

Reasonable suspicion is the simmer until reduced gravey of probable cause and they both are and include but are not limited to the following: tie-dye, long hair on boys, short hair on girls, any combination of co-ed activity that does not contain equal parts boy and girl and therfore equal boy and girl parts, tattoos, a lack of reflective gear on your person, liking the Dave Matthews Band, laughing, being a human who hasn't joined the police force, not tucking your shirt in, wearing things like sandals or black skin, talking about good ideas, using biodegradable products, gardening, liking to be around other people without exchanging money, playing the guitar, training a dog to respond to love and not need a leash, using a bicycle in place of an automobile, openly talking about a desire to raise goats and turkeys, not sending text messages while driving at 75mph on a three lane interstate loaded with cars, napping, reading anything besides a value menu, practicing head stands instead of watching the evening news, not washing your jeans/hair, breathing if your not in a suit and tie or pants suit and heels, smiling, mocking hell and fear, giving lunch to a stranger, hula hooping, traveling to places your guts telling you to go, talking story, drinking anything besides MountainDew or Four-bucks coffee, sleeping on the side of a highway in the sun and breeze, staring at a blade of grass blowing in the wind, eating vegetables, and did I mention having black skin or being a black person, especially if youre doing/having anything that a white person may also want to do/have? The list goes on and on and on... so many reasonable reasons to suspect suspects.

We were dealing with confused officers who wanted to make sure that we hadn't yelled anything like, "The only way out is in!" or "I am the love that created me!" or "An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind" or "In God we trust" or any other suspect words.

Ill be frank, they were stoner-hunters on the hunt for stoners. Like mushroom hunters around the patties they troll the Blue Ridge with wide open nets to feed the hungry slot machine that is the economic system that relies on the Prison Industrail Complex, the Military Industrial Complex and the Box Industrial Complex for its momentum.

You all know this.

Im just here to remind you.

This week should provide more details and a further journalistic effort into some other aspects of yesterday, including an interview with real live hippies and filling in the blanks of missing adjectives. Keep your fingers crossed and think good thoughts, it matters like that.

Also, I would like to back up Billy's mention of the Young/Old man. He was a Grandpawson, a variation of both the pa-paw and the junior. Im serious, I saw a young man walk out of the trailor to tell us not to drink Poo2O and then I asked an old man if he had any clean2O. Then a young man told us where we could get clean2O and an old man told us to look close cause it was easy to miss. Old man/young man, thanks for stopping too much fecal from going in my system and thanks for being the oracle of clean spring water. May you live a long/short fulfilling life and grow old/young happily surrounded by such wonderful nature. And may you be the first of many Grandpawson's I meet...