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Thursday, September 13th, 2007

A New Song... Inspired by Katie, by Allison, by Virginia

My friend Katie called my bluff during my "$50 song phase" last winter.

She hired me to write three songs actually. But being both lazy AND busy, I've only had time to complete the one she asked me to write for her good friend Allison, as a gift.

(Such a great idea, huh? To give your friend a song that was inspired by something that you wrote about them -- your view of them -- filtered through a songwriter's brainheartsoul... but that's Katie...)

Here is what Katie wrote to me about her friend Allison...

Allison:
I've known Allison since high school where we instantly connected as misfits always do. She is always laughing and smiling and has this way about her that is both fun and mischievous- raising hell with every new friend she meets. She's not one to shy away from new adventures and is always starting conversations with random people. She teaches first grade in Harlem. Allison has been there for me through heartbreaks, loss, tears, and utter confusion.

Some characteristics:
- Giving New York a chance.
- Swears like a sailor.
- Snorts when she laughs.
- Thinks the denouement is overrated.
- HUGE Virginia Woolf fan.
- Lived in New Orleans for two years teaching in the Lower 9th.
- Favorite drink is Abita beer.
- Favorite holiday is Mardi Gras

=====================

So I started thinking about Allison... walking around New York City, an odd kind of refugee from New Orleans. From New Orleans to New York. I've spent a lot of time in both cities. There couldn't be two more different kinds of cities in the U.S., I think. I remembered walking around NYC alone feeling down... That city can make you feel alone. I thought about the kind of person what would be drawn to teaching school in the 9th Ward of New Orleans... and then be drawn to teach school in Harlem...

And then I started thinking of the fact that she's a big fan of Virginia Woolf... I remembered reading something rather tragic about her life story. So I did a little research and found out that she was a brilliant writer who was also deeply, deeply depressed and ultimately killed herself by filling the pockets of her dress with stones and walking out into a river near her home...

Virginia Woolf



On the 28th March, 1941, aged fifty-nine, she drowned herself in the river Ouse, near her Sussex home. Two suicide notes were found in the house, similar in content; one may have been written ten days earlier, and it is possible that she may have made an unsuccessful attempt then, for she returned from a walk soaking wet, saying that she had fallen. They were addressed to her sister Vanessa and to her husband Leonard. To him, she wrote:

'Dearest, I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.

I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.

V.

=====================

This made me think of rivers... the Mississippi River, the Harlem River, the East River... and New Orleans... and New York City... and Allison...

don't follow virginia
a song for allison

new york can treat you unkind
make you believe you're falling behind
you moved there hoping to find
a new way to be…a new thing to try…

don't follow Virginia
down, down
I know that you love her
down, down
follow the river
out, out, and up…

the Ninth Ward is covered in mud
you cry like a baby when you think of the Holy Cross
1200 miles to the north, you're walking through Harlem
taking things hard

don't follow Virginia
down, down
I know that you love her
down, down
don't follow Virginia
down, down
I know that you love her
down, down
follow the river
out, out, and up, and up, and out

Posted By John Common at: 12:09 am. Add Comment

Tuesday, August 28th, 2007

Channeling A. Hepburn

I wrote a new song this morning... It feels like it could be in a movie from 1960 or something... Kind of like that moment in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' when Audrey Hepburn picks up her guitar and plays 'Moon River'...

Odd.

good heart

good heart
you're nothing without…
good heart
and holding no doubt
good heart inside
bashful and still
telling no lies
having the will
good heart
searching for one
good heart
won't ever run
good heart inside
broken before
telling no lies
no hand on the door
we'll stay
and find a way…
good... good heart.

 

Posted By John Common at: 12:08 am. Add Comment

Monday, July 30th, 2007

Still Life With Desert, Crucifix, Tower, Guillotine

Driving north, back from Taos I pulled the truck over, just north of the New Mexico-Colorado border. I needed to go for a run. It was one of those days that didn't know if it wanted to sun or rain... you could call it indecisive. Or "open to suggestion".

There was a small lake by the dirt road where I parked. I got out, put on my running shoes and started running around the lake, headed west. Within 10 minutes, I was running down a remote dirt farm road, surrounded by sage and scrub and sky and dirt. The mountains surrounded me on all sides, waiting, off in the distance.

At a bend in the dirt road, I turned around to look for a landmark that would lead me back to my truck on the return trip... I found it in the form of a red and white radio tower off in the distance. It reminded me of an old friend who loves towers, perhaps even was a tower in another life, and it made me smile.

About 2 miles in, my dirt road turned into a path and took me beside an irrigation ditch with a large iron flood gate. On top of the gate was a large screw device used for opening and closing the gate... As I approached, it appeared as a crucifix mounted atop a guillotine... silhouetted against the sky. Out in the middle of the high desert, a crucifx, a guillotine, a man and a radio tower -- juxtaposed for comparison, for consideration.

If felt obvious to me that I was an object in a much, much larger painting... "Still Life With Desert, Crucifix, Tower, Guillotine". Or bit player in a very old and slow moving play. It was one of the most beautiful things I've seen or done in a long, long time.

Posted By John Common at: 12:07 am. Add Comment

Saturday, July 14th, 2007

My Dad and Frank Sinatra

Hanging out with my Dad this week, talking about anything and everything... I was reminded of how much of a HUGE Frank Sinatra fan he has always been. (My Dad is a really, really good singer in his own right.)

When I was growing up, he used to play a little known record named "Watertown" (recorded in 1970) at FULL VOLUME on the stereo at all hours of the day and night. It's a concept record about a guy whose wife suddenly leaves him one day -- he's alone in his life (formerly "their life") left to raise their two kids... It chronicles the thoughts and emotions he goes through in trying to understand what happened, all the while bravely acting as if (and hoping that) she'll come back to him.



Dad would absolutely blast that record... frequently, with eyes closed in a kind of reverie. And during these lush, loud "Frank moments", as the song finished, he would turn to whomever was standing near (frequently, me) and say something like...

"Whoa... Man! That is a classic!

Or, "Listen to his phrasing on that one... Impeccable..."

Or, "Wow... that evokes pictures in my mind!"

SuperFan.

Dad listened to ALL of Frank Sinatra's music... and there is A LOT of it. But he had a particular liking for the nostalgic stuff... the sad stuff... I think that's why "Watertown" absolutely slayed him every time. One music critic described the record as "A series of brief lyrical snapshots that read like letters or soliloquies... The culminating effect of the songs is an atmosphere of loneliness, but it is a loneliness without much hope or romance - it is the sound of a broken man."

Here are the lyrics to a song named 'She Says' from the record:

She says she's sleeping well, she says she's lost some weight
She says she's seen some shows, she says the city's strange
(So she says) She says the weather's cold, she says there's been some rain
She says there's lots to see, she says she hopes we're fine (So she says)
(So she says) The price is high, high as the sky
And she says, she says, she's comin' home
____________________________________________________________

So with all of that as context...

My Dad were driving around last night, coming back from a late night run to Jerusalem restaurant to satisfy a baclava craving... talking about Watertown and how much he liked that record... ("It's impeccable!") And it dawned on me... I wonder if THAT'S where I can trace the beginnings of my own downer music fetish? I think I blundered onto one of my "psychological imprints". Apparently, I have my father -- and by extension, Frank Sinatra -- to blame/thank for my love of introspective, sad music.

That's my excuse.

~John



P.S. I bought Dad a new copy of "Watertown" today on CD from Amazon... He hasn't heard it in a long, long time... ever since he got rid of his records and record player (mistake). I'm going to burn a copy first, of course.

Posted By John Common at: 12:07 am. Add Comment

Wednesday, April 11th, 2007

Kurt Vonnegut Died... Hi ho.

Kurt Vonnegut and I share a birthday... November 11. Veteran's Day.

I wrote him a letter once. I was in middle school. I had read 3 of his novels and was on the way to reading pretty much every one of his books (I think I lost track of the last couple). I was fully caught in his smart, smart-assey, sarcastic, wonderfully human spell when I wrote that letter as a young kid. I typed it out on my mother's typewriter (which is now my typewriter, over there, in my living room under the picture of that canyon on the wall).

The letter basically said this: "We have the same birthday, you and me. I love your books. I wish I could meet you and talk with you some day. Sincerely, John"

I never got a reply. But I don't hold that against him. I'm sure he got a lot of letters just like or very similar to mine. I never met Kurt Vonnegut, but I remember how I met Kurt Vonnegut's writing.

I was wandering the stacks of the public library in Pensacola, Florida one hot summer afternoon. My mother had gone there to return some of her books and I walked away from her, out into the stacks of books... shelf after shelf waiting there for me in the air conditioned silence.

I slowly walked down the aisle, guided to modern fiction by the different way that the book covers were designed... their fonts didn't seem quite so asleep somehow. I instiinctively pulled a book off the shelf that said "SLAPSTICK: OR LONESOME NO MORE!" I opened the book and started scanning the first several pages to see if the writing would catch my eye...

"The gravity is very light today. I have an erection as a result of that. All males have erections on days like this. They are automatic consequences of near-weightlessness. They have little to do with eroticism in most cases, and nothing to do with it in the life of a man my age. They are hydraulic experiences -- the results of confused plumbing and little more. Hi ho."

Not only had I found a new favorite author, I officially stepped out of "children's literature" that day. What a perfect writer to be that bridge... what a perfect adolescent discovery.

Kurt Vonnegut died today. I never met him. But I feel like I knew him somehow.  Isn't that what great writers do? They show you the world through their eyes.

Another quote from Kurt:

“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.’ ”

Posted By John Common at: 12:04 am. Add Comment

Saturday, April 7th, 2007

A Recent Interview

A music writer sent me a long list of questions the other day -- she's writing a story about the music and stuff... You never know how those wily press people are going to edit/change/misquote your words, so here are the Q's and the A's, for the record:

1. Are you a self taught or trained musician? Tell me about that. I’m mostly self-taught. But I think what taught me the most was just being a member of my family… whatever musicality I have comes mostly from them. My entire family is incredibly creative. I didn’t figure this out until I was an adult… I didn’t realize that my family is filled with really talented singers, musicians, storytellers, artists and writers. I grew up with a bunch of people who were constantly expressing what they were thinking or feeling in a variety of creative ways. It just seemed normal to me and not special or extraordinary because everyone had day jobs and other interests… In some ways, I’m one of the first people in my family to view music/writing/art as something that could absorb more than a hobbyist’s attention / intention. When I was a little kid I took piano lessons from a guy named Harold Higgins on Wednesday afternoons at the Methodist church. My Mother made me do this. I hated it at the time, but I was relatively good at it. There was something fishy about the whole “sticker-for-obedience” reward methodology. Harold was a sweet guy though. It wasn’t his fault that I didn’t grow up to become a concert pianist. Funny though, I’m playing piano a lot now – live and in the studio. And I’m writing with piano too. It makes you think of an idea differently than writing with a guitar. In grade school I found my brother’s acoustic guitar in his closet when he went and inexplicably joined the Navy. I took the guitar to the local music store and asked them how to put strings on it and tune it. I think on some level I was drawn to it because I missed him. I had grown up seeing him playing guitar and singing… I sat down with his Beatles and Neil Young fake books… and I learned how to play the songs I’d grown up listening to, by ear. Years later, I took 2 guitar lessons from a pathetically stunted, social misfit “guitar teacher” who lived with his Mom and taught students out of his converted garage. I got his phone number from the message board of the music store. He was so incredibly freaky that I couldn’t go back the third time. Even as a naïve 7th grader, I knew that something was deeply wrong with this picture… “If guitar and rock-n-roll is cool, then what am I doing HERE with this guy who lives with his Mom and talks non-stop about Pat Metheny and Yoko Ono?”

2. How has Denver influenced your music, Rainville to present? This is a really good question… that I’m not sure I know how to answer. I think that WHERE you are affects WHO you are to a larger degree than we know. I grew up in the South. So, to me, Denver (Colorado, really) represents “The West” or “un-South”. I guess being in Denver gives me a sense of perspective on who I am, where I’ve come from and what I’m doing. I still feel separate – like I did when I first moved here – on a really basic level. That’s a good thing for me to have and tap in to. As far as the music scene or whatever, I guess I’m a part of Denver’s music scene, but I don’t really feel a part of a group of similar-minded artists doing related things – “a school” or something. I think Denver DOES have those groups of people. I’m just not really inside any of those groups. I do have a network of Colorado friends that I’ve made over the last 10 or so years – people who I have bumped in to and made a connection with… they are constantly influencing me, mostly by being the creative individuals they are.

3. Which is your favorite song on Good to be Born? Why do you know that? I don’t know if I have a favorite… but I think ‘Call Me Right Now’ is probably the most representative song on the record. To me, it contains examples of everything that was in my head and in my heart when I wrote and recorded Good To Be Born.

4. Do you have another job, John by day? By day, I am a simple farmer. It gives me time to think.

5. When did you learn that it was good to be born, or have you learned that yet? I re-learn it several times a week. Which means, I’m constantly forgetting it.

6. What is juxtaposer to you? Someone who is largely unaware of the art they are making with their flagrant contradictions.

7. How did you meet your band? Everyone who I play with is a friend. We meet lots of different ways. But how I met Kevin is a good example… Walking through the forest one day, I stopped on a hilly rise to take a drink from my canteen. When I looked up, I saw a noble 12 point buck, he was cautious – wary even. I began following him from a great distance. He took me through swampy bogs, high meadows, through icy streams swollen with snow melt, and over craggy granite peaks. I hunted him for days. When he stopped, I stopped. When he moved, I moved. I left him nuts and small pieces of bread at the base of his favorite tree in the evenings. Eventually, he grew to trust me. It was then that I sprung the net.

8. Will you consider adding a musical saw to your music? If not, why? If yes, why? Consider it? I’m quivering in anticipation. Nothing says “next big thing” quite like the musical saw. Know any accomplished sawists?

9. Where are you going with this, all of this? Follow that road, over the hill Down through the trees by the old saw mill. Honestly. I’m just following my heart on this one. I have no idea where it’s headed, other than making music that I’m proud of, with people who I love and respect, and hopefully connecting with people who hear something good along the way.

10. What can you say about your band? I’m so lucky to get to play with the people who I play with. Period. I say this all the time, but I truly don’t mind repeating myself… I play with people who are artists in their own right. Every one of them are super talented. For some reason, they’re willing to learn my songs and we make this music together. We kind of stretch the definition of what a band is… I feel like it’s more like an evolving, expanding group of friends who make records and play shows together. Right now, the group includes: Jed Marrs (keys, vocals), Kevin Meyer (bass, vocals), Tom Germain (drums), Brian McRae (drums), Matt Gilliam (trumpet, fleugal), Scott Davies (drums, samples), Steve Millin (bass), John Horan (percussion, harmonica), Natacha Fortis (violin, vocals), Cheyenne Kowal (vocals), Tom Zingaro (lap steel, vocals). At any given show, you’ll see a combination of these people.

11. Can you tell me more about Spill? A release date? Is that what you are currently working on? I’m working on three records right now. ‘Why Birds Fly’ is nearly about to be released -- in May, I’m guessing. It’s a group of songs written and recorded roughly during the same time as the songs on Good To Be Born. In some ways, it’s like Good To Be Born’s dark brother. In another way, it’s like a B Sides record from the Good To Be Born sessions. We’re working on the album design right now. ‘Spill’ began as a response to people asking me if I had an acoustic record. I recorded 5 songs with Tom Germain (my drummer who is also a fantastic engineer) at his studio, Foresight Sound. He hung mics and I just went in and played songs live. I’m trying to decide whether to release Spill as literally a solo record, or to pull in some friends to flesh out the songs a little bit (still sparse arrangements) and make it a full-length record. We’ll see. Either way, it will be released later this year. The third record I’m working on is a batch of songs that will be another band / rock record. I’m finishing about 30 songs that will be narrowed down and then recorded sometime later this year. I’m guessing that record will be released in early 2008. I’m also helping a couple of friends make their records right now. Mostly as a producer or co-producer… I’m playing some too – as needed/wanted – on friends’ records.

12. I know this is cliché, but if you could really and truly play music with anyone, dead or alive, would it be Tom Waits? Or someone else, I suppose. I’d like to make a record with Booker T and the MG’s. I’d also like to sit around a kitchen table and drink whiskey out of fruit jars with Tom Waits, John Lennon, Wink Martindale, Chet Baker , Raymond Carver, Chuck Woolery, Ernest Hemingway, Miles Davis, Prince, Jack Chesire, Bob Dylan, Harold Higgins, Daniel Lanois and Woody Allen.

13. Is playing music better than sex? It depends on who’s playing the bass and who’s playing the drums.

14. Your favorite venue to play? I don’t have one. It has everything to do with the energy of the audience. If people showed up – with their bodies and their minds and their hearts – we could turn the produce section of King Soopers on 9th Avenue into an incredible venue. One of my favorite examples of this was this venue where they kept telling us to turn it down, turn it down because the venue was underneath some apartments… So I unplugged my guitar and walked out the front door of the venue with just my guitar and finished the set with my band on the sidewalk. The bar emptied out around us. We were all standing there together in a circle out on the street. It was one of the best moments I’ve ever had at a show.

15. Do you know what happened to Fabio’s face? Does that make you laugh? Does Fabio actually have a face? I thought he just had rock hard abs that extended all the way up to his forehead.

16. What is your guilty pleasure? I don’t do guilt. I just do pleasure.

17. What is he building in there? I’ll tell you one thing… he’s not building a playhouse for the children.

18. Do you do anything weird before performing, like weird voice things? No. I mostly just want to be alone before I perform. I knew a girl who would make bizarre bird sounds VERY LOUDLY before she got on stage to sing. I always wondered… in what other areas of her life did she make noises like that? It was always disturbing. That’s not something a person gets used to.

19. Who do you want to go to the library with? Are you a bibliophile? (The Library song reference) Her. And her. Yes… I love books and those who love books. Honestly, is there anything hotter than a bookish girl?

20. What’s behind “The Other Side of Town?” ‘Other Side Of Town’ is about a love triangle set place in a small town on the border between obsessive desire and Vermilion, South Dakota. It is raining and awfully dark on the warm summer night that the circus comes back to town. The ticket man at the train station gives you this advice, which you ignore: “Never fall in love with a girl from the circus. She will break your heart flawlessly and beg you to come back for more. During the long days, you will keep your head down and pretend that you’re not waiting for her to return. You will fill your nights with gin and cigarettes... Her husband will eventually kill you with his knife. You know this but you won’t listen, will you?”

21. What is your current state of mind? Dissociative Fugue State. This is a rare disorder. An individual with dissociative fugue suddenly and unexpectedly takes physical leave of his or her surroundings and sets off on a journey of some kind. These journeys can last hours, or even several days or months. Individuals experiencing a dissociative fugue have traveled over thousands of miles. An individual in a fugue state is unaware of or confused about his identity, and in some cases will assume a new identity (although this is the exception).

22. What would you say to being called a local legend? You’re kidding me, right?

23. What would you encourage aspiring musicians to do? Quit now. Stay in your home town and learn your father’s trade. Work your way up from the bottom. Find a nice girl. Settle down. Keep your head above water. Save for your retirement. Swallow your pride. Don’t make waves. Be nice. Measure twice, cut once. Chop wood, carry water. Live within your means. Lower your expectations. Look both ways. Delay gratification. Make a budget and stick to it. Music is for suckers with more vanity than common sense. If you’re still reading, my only advice is this: hack through the underbrush of your periphery and hone in on that thing that makes you who you really are. Then, have the courage to reveal it. Or put another way… Get authentic and then, be authentic.

24. Motto? Adepto Auctorizo. Exsisto Auctorizo.

25. Tell me more about the Tom Waits show, and also about the benefit. We’re doing the Tom Waits show again because the show we did in December was so much fun and the people who were there had a really great time. And because a bunch of people who couldn’t make that December show have asked us to do it again. It’s May 5th (Cinqo de Waitso!) at the Oriental Theater. A bunch of great singer/songwriters are opening the show by playing their favorite Tom Waits songs and then me and my band will play Tom Waits’ deeply weird and sublime record ‘Rain Dogs’ in its entirety. We're doing this show as a benefit for a no kill animal shelter that Kevin, our bass player, works with. It’s name is Angels With Paws. They need help and this seemed like a good way to help them.

26. At what other locations can people stalk you? I have a few favorite haunts around town. But I’m not giving them up. Let’s leave it to fate, shall we? If we find each other, we’ll know it’s right.

27. Do you plan on staying in Denver? I don’t know. I’ve been having these dreams lately…

28. Do you have a man-crush on Jed? Absolutely. Is it that obvious?

29. If you weren’t playing music, what would you do? Learning to paint. Making films. Sleeping.

30. Do you have an Ipod? What is the most played item on there? Sun Kil Moon. Sonic Youth. Bonobo. Serge Gainsbourg. Thom Yorke. Tom Waits. William Shatner. Tord Gustavsen Trio. Various found sounds I pick up along the way.

31. What’s the story behind the double logo images, like the birds? I love your website, it is really dreamy. I dunno… These images of birds, bears, snakes, elephants, animals and organisms… they just sort of call out to me. And then when they’re doubled, like a book-matched piece of maple on the back of an acoustic guitar, they start saying things about duality… opposites… juxtaposition.

Posted By John Common at: 12:04 am. Add Comment

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

Skippy Beats The Pants Off Jif

I was at Safeway doing some grocery shopping the other evening, sashaying down the peanut butter and jelly aisle, doing my normal peanut butter and jelly thing. I was on autopilot --my typically distracted state... brain awash in advertising-driven cult-behavior. Just another pawn in the grocery game.

My internal conversation went something like this:

JOHN TO HIMSELF: "Lookin' for my Jif... Lookin' for my Jif... Lookin' for my... Wait a minute. Look at that jar of Skippy. It's so goofy man. Who are they kiddin'? What kind of shit is that? Does that peanut butter have ANY dignity at all? Any scrap of self-respect? I mean... "Skippy"? Even the name sounds... flippant... low brow. But... I dunno. I've spent a lot of years with Jif -- most of my life. Who's to say Jif is better? And besides, Jif's been staying late at work a lot lately... And honestly, our sandwiches haven't had the same... EXCITEMENT that they used to have. Maybe I could..."

And I did it.

I went crazy-off-the-deep-end-call-a-therapist-fucking-nuts. I lost it. I took a risky risk. I grabbed a jar of Skippy like a pissed Iraqi grabs an AK. I just did it. I dropped that jar of Skippy into my cart like I just didn't care. Yeh. I did. (I choose creamy, by the way. So smooth... so right) It was like stepping off a cliff... total free fall for a second...

The next day, when my normal jonesing for a PB&J hit maximal levels... I wandered into the kitchen like a junkie and got out my works: plate, knife, whole wheat bread, glass, milk, strawberry preserves, and... WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? Skippy? Oh yeh... This better not screw up my PB&J fix, man.

Well, I unscrewed the top -- skeptical and a little scared. (As a man, I can admit that I was scared.) I peeled back the foil seal -- they take their peanut butter freshness seriously. Good sign. I dipped a single fingertip into that swirl of creamy Skippy peanut butter and brought it to my mouth for a little tastey test.

Holy shit.

Can this be? What the fuh..? I repeated the act, in disbelief. Same result: a cloud of buttery loveliness descended onto my palette, producing wave after wave of peanut satisfaction the likes of which I can honestly say this Southern boy hath not experienced. It was a watershed moment.... a tipping point. Unforeseen vistas opened up before me. Suddenly it felt as if literally anything was possible. "Is this a one-time euphoria -- some cheap thrill -- or perhaps a permanent UPWARD adjustment to my happiness baseline", I asked myself? I knew the answer even before I asked the question... This is love.

But then that old spoiler, Regret, slouched into the kitchen... "I feel like I've wasted so many years... with Jif." I imagine this is what a divorcee feels like when she finally meets her TRUE love -- after a mundane and lifeless first marriage. "Jif, you can keep the house. You can have the car. Take the 401K. I've met Skippy. And I finally know what real happiness is. What we had together was... adequate. But we both deserve better."
.
.
.
.

So there you have it. I'm a Skippy man now. I can't tell you what to do. I not going to try and pull you into my Skippy gig. This isn't Amway. You've got to cut your own path... find your own way. This is just right for me. I took a risk, and it paid off.

Things like this probably happen every day.

Posted By John Common at: 12:02 am. 1 Comment