THE SOUND OF ONE HAND CLAPPING

"As long as we have some definite idea about or some hope in the future, we cannot really be serious with the moment that exists right now. You may say, 'I can do it tomorrow, or next year,' believing that something that exists today will exist tomorrow. Even though you are not trying so hard, you expect that some promising thing will come, as long as you follow a certain way. But there is no certain way that exists permanently. There is no way set up for us. Moment after moment we have to find our own way. Some idea of perfection, or some perfect way which is set up by someone else, is not the true way for us." -- Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: KENNY SHOPSIN

"Am I, with my busy work, seeking to inject meaning into my life? The way that I chose to function is to pick an arbitrary, stupid goal, become totally involved in it, and pursue it with vigor. And what happens to you in that pursuit is your life." -- Kenny Shopsin, Shopsins Restaurant, NYC

GEORGE CARLIN AND TOM WAITS: CONTEMPO-SHAMANS EXTRAORDINAIRE

Of course, a guy dies and he becomes a prophet retroactively. Or maybe George Carlin was a bona fide prophet in his own time. At any rate, I've recently derived a great deal of peace from scouring the internets for Carlin interviews (here's a good one) and seeing what he had to say about Art and God and finding one's way in the contemporary world.

On a related note...prior to that, I delved into the phenomenon that is Tom Waits, looking for much of the same. Equinimity. Reassurance. The nod to "Go ahead, son, there's sustenance over yonder." Found it. In fact, Master Waits will be in the Magic City, at the Alabama Theatre, in just a few days. I'd go but it's $85 and, truth be told, I like his ideas and convictions a little bit more than I like his music.

So, anyway, I'm pretty sure it means something that, here of late, I'm resonating big time with the old white guys of the turn-in-tune-in-drop-out variety. What, then, of this fun fact: both fellows are (were, in Carlin's case) blissfully married, stupid rich, and they make (made) whatever kind of art they want(ed), whenever they want(ed). Hmm.

Garcon, I'll have what the scruffy gentleman in the corner's having...