A Rude Awakening

As the first rays of daylight began to make there way through the very few small windows located near the ceiling in the Morgan Street Jail, and after a very long and uncomfortable night...I managed to close my eyes and escape into a half-sleep. I'm not sure how long I may have dozed, but it couldn't have been much more than an hour. It is amazing how one loses all sense of time in jail...minutes feel like days. I was awakened by the clanging of steel doors as some of the prisoners I was locked up with were notified that their bail had been paid...and they could leave. As the door clanged shut behind them...and I realized that nobody in my life even knew where I was...or what had occurred the night before...my heart sank. It is a pretty rude awakening...waking up in a jail for the first time. It is very cold and damp...there is no furniture of any kind...and it was a pretty filthy place...and I tried to put the thought that I might be staying there for a very long time...out of my mind. I had been given my one phone call the night before...and got no answer when I had called my house. The police had made it very clear that they felt they had complied with their Constitutional requirements...and there would be no other phone calls for me. A kind of low-level claustrophobia began to set in...as I realized that I had absolutely no choices about anything...not even about whether or not I could eat, sleep, or even use a toilet...things that I had never thought about as "privileges" before this...I had just always taken those things for granted. The reality of what being incarcerated really meant...was just beginning to register in my brain. I didn't like it at all. I started to really wonder how and when I was going to get out of this place...if ever. I knew I was going to be arraigned that morning in Hartford Superior Court...but I had no clue about what that meant...or what would happen...or when. I desperately clung to the idea that there would be somebody...some familiar face...waiting there...to post bail...once it had been set. But I also knew it was more likely that nobody would be there...and after being arraigned, I would be right back in the same cage...maybe for days...or weeks...until someone found out where I was. It was amazing to me how quickly my thoughts...turned to...and focused on only one thing....freedom. I began to realize that as far as the "world" was concerned...I was just a criminal...a "bad guy"...and I was right where I belonged. That was a pretty rude awakening too...because up until that moment...that was never how I had thought of myself. But as I pondered the seriousness of the charges against me...I realized that sympathy for me...and my situation...would be in very short supply...unless it came from people who cared about me...I began to put a lot of hope in the guy who had promised to call Don for me after he had been released. It was a pretty tough to realize  that my best hope for getting out of jail was a person whose name I didn't even know, whom I had only met for thirty seconds...while we were sharing a jail cell together, and whom I would probably never see again...keeping a promise to me that he made as he was walking out of my life forever...and who probably had many other things that were more important to him at that moment...than keeping a promise to a stranger in a jail cell. I began to realize how my circumstances were forcing me to count on total strangers for even the faintest glimmers of hope...and that didn't make me feel a whole lot better...because my life experiences had taught me that I was often very disappointed when I had counted on my friends...or even my own family...to follow through on promises. I vascillated back and forth between the distant hope that my new "friend" had made the call to Don...and the very real likelihood that he hadn't.

   What seemed like an eternity later...the guards came and loaded us all into a paddy wagon for transport to the Court for the arraignment. Even that felt like a welcome change...but in reality...I was also still feeling like a sheep...being led to slaughter. We were all placed in another cage...just outside the Courtroom...where we were all handcuffed, and we were all shackled together by chains...attached to our ankles. It was very de-humanizing and humiliating...and I realized again...how I would be perceived by the society I suddenly no longer felt I was a part of. I fought to get a glimpse into the courtroom every time someone from the group was called to be arraigned...but I never had an angle to see anything at all inside the Court...so I could only wait in quiet desperation...until my turn came. After about an hour...my turn did come...and as I walked into the Courtroom...I looked anxiously around for anything that resembled a familiar face. Just before I was about to go in front of the judge...I was notified that there was an attorney there that wanted to speak to me. As I walked around the corner...I recognized an attorney that worked in the office of my attorney...(my attorney was a close friend and a customer of mine)and I realized...with a flood of gratitude...that my new "friend" from jail had actually made the call he had promised to make...and had reached Don...who had contacted my attorney...who happened to have his offices in Hartford. The lawyer didn't have a lot of time...my case was being "called"...so he just told me to say nothing...and that he would arrange bail for me. I think the exact words were..."I'll have you out of here in an hour"...and they were music to my ears...and the best words I had ever heard.

Uncharted Waters

As I was driven to the Hartford Police Station for booking and processing, I felt like I was in a dream...but I knew I wasn't asleep. I was in uncharted waters...totally unfamiliar territory...and I didn't like the total loss of control I was feeling. I had never been arrested before...and I was experiencing a smorgasborg of feelings...most of them very disconcerting. I was unsure about what was going to happen next...and although I had played this possible scenario out in my mind many times over the years I had been dealing...and how I would respond to it if it ever actually happened...I was totally unprepared for how different it felt from my imaginary mental projections. This was the real event...and I realized very quickly that there was no way to adequately prepare for this. I had been involved in the drug business long enough to have seen many friends go through what I was now experiencing...and the one lesson that I had learned quickly was...that cooperating with the police wasn't an option. I was still involved primarily with lifelong friends...and fellow musicians...and at no time did giving any of them up to the police as a way of trying to avoid my own consequences ever cross my mind.

I was booked, fingerprinted and then brought back to the office of the detectives who had busted me, for questioning. The first thing they chose to do was to run a chemical test on the cocaine I had been caught with...and as the vial with the chemical agent for the test turned a very deep blue color (normally, a "positive" test result for the presence of cocaine produces a light blue color) ...the head detective looked at me with a grin and said..."you really are from out of town aren't you?" I knew he was sarcastically but triumphantly commenting on the amazing purity of the cocaine I had been caught with (it was a very good batch,  by any standards...ether-washed Peruvian cocaine...something that had become very scarce, as cocaine had grown in popularity). He started to tell me that I could help myself a great deal if I was willing to give him the name of my supplier...or I could just spend the next fifteen years in prison...it made no difference to him...but with the amount and quality of the product I had been caught red-handed with...already pre-packaged by me, and ready for sale...he made it very clear that the jail time was a certainty if I didn't cooperate. I made up some bullshit story that I didn't know my drug connection's last name...but that his first name was Carlos...but I had no way to contact him...because he would always find me. It was complete fiction...and I think the detective had no trouble recognizing that...because he said..."I hope you enjoy prison life...but if you change your mind after sitting in a cell for a little while...ask for me". He then got up...and left the room. A few minutes later, a uniformed officer came in and led me downstairs to the Morgan Street Jail...a notoriously unpleasant place...and I was thrown into a cage with about twenty other people who were there because they had been arrested for various other offenses that night. I was totally out of my element...wearing leather stage clothes, and in a holding tank with some pretty unsavory characters. I tried to keep to myself..but after an hour or two...a black guy who obviously recognized the situation for exactly what it was...came up to me and started to push me saying..."give me your money." I tried to tell him I didn't have any, which was true...all of my personal belongings had been confiscated and were being searched...but I had been allowed to keep my wristwatch...which  he promptly demanded from me. I resisted..but after a few quick blows to my head...I gave him what he wanted. About five minutes later...a Police guard who heard the commotion came up and asked me if I was OK...and had anyone done anything to me. I knew enough to say "Nah, I'm OK...everything is OK"...and the guard left. For the rest of the night I was left alone. I guess I had passed some kind of jailhouse test...and had surprised a number of my black cellmates with my response...because a few of them even ended up getting on the case of the guy who hit me...saying to  him "that was really fucked up, man." 

That was probably the longest night of my life. I had plenty of time to think about the repercussions I would soon experience as a result of this arrest. I wondered if my long held belief that I would now be arrested for my Mom's murder would become a reality. I wondered how the arrest would affect my relationship with my Dad. I wondered how it would affect my business relationship with my drug connections. I wondered about the fifteen years of prison time I had been told was now a certainty...and if that was really to be my future. I wondered about my friends, my dog, my house, and my life as I knew it...and I wondered about how all of those things would be affected. I wondered about the album that was almost finished...and how this event was certain to affect that project.  I wondered how this had even happened. I was furious with myself for being so careless...and for unnecessarily carrying around such a large quantity of drugs. Although burglaries and thefts had forced me into that routine...I now felt (for the very first time...and too late) that a theft was a lot better than being busted. And I wondered how anyone who I thought might be able to help me to get bonded out of jail would even find out about where I was...or even know about the arrest. It had happened in a different city from where I lived...over thirty miles away...and since I had never been arrested before, I knew that none of my friends or family would be looking for me in a jail in Hartford. The only person who could have told anyone about what had just happened was Jay...and he was sitting a few feet away from me...in the same cage. It was indeed...a very long night. As morning broke, some of the other guys who had been locked up with me started to get bailed out. One of the black guys who had spoken up after I had lied to the guard...came up to me just before he was sprung and asked me if I wanted him to call anyone for me...when he got out. I was amazed at the request...and although I wasn't sure if he actually would follow through as I watched him getting ready to be released...I told him my home phone number...and told him to ask for "Don"...and that my name was Michael. He promised me he would call as soon as he got out. As I watched him go...I realized I had no way to know if that was true...or how long I'd be in jail...and suddenly...I realized just how really long fifteen years in prison could actually be...and in my heart...I knew that wasn't something I would be able to do...and survive. As I realized all of these things...I knew that nothing would ever  be the same as it had been for me. I was definitely now in...uncharted waters.

Busted!

As I headed down the Interstate to Hartford with Jay, I had no idea that everything in my life was about to change forever. I thought I was going to enjoy a night out with some musician friends...I was relaxed and happy...I had just been paid some long overdue money which would be helpful in helping to pay for pressing costs for the album...which  was almost ready to be manufactured. I had no drug business set up for that evening...this was just me going out to hear a band that I knew well. My guard was down. I had survived being a prime suspect in two brutal homicide investigations, and had been using and dealing drugs with impunity for almost ten years without ever having been arrested or experiencing any legal consequences of any kind...and although I was usually very careful and alert...on this night...I didn't feel like I was doing anything that would put me at any risk. I had become so used to always carrying drugs around, and never having problems when I did...that I think I actually forgot for a little while that I was driving around in my "warehouse" full of illegal drugs. I knew I had the usual few grams of cocaine for my personal use on me...as well as the ten or so joints I always would roll in advance before going anywhere...but I guess I just didn't see that as an unusual event or a risk. I had become complacent...and complacency breeds carelessness...and as I neared the outskirts of Hartford with Jay...my thoughts were on the album, and the band I was about to see. Jay seemed relaxed, too...and the converstion was pleasant...and he did a great job of distracting me from my usually cautious attitude.

   The club we were going to was less than a block away from the Hartford Train Station, and that whole section of the city could have been considered the "entertainment district"in Hartford...because most of the city's live music clubs were all pretty much located within a couple of city blocks of there. There was usually a very casual and laid-back party atmosphere in that area...and as we approached the station, it was apparent that lots of people were out that night...because there wasn't a lot of available parking anywhere. I found a spot under an overpass that the trains travelled on, and as I pulled into the parking area,  I looked up and saw three of the guys in the band I was going to see...headed in my general direction. They hadn't seen me...but they obviously had just taken a break after playing their first set...and were going outside to get high. I pulled to a stop, and rolled down my window and called to them, and they all recognized me and came over to my car, and I invited them into the car with us. It was at that moment that Jay asked if he could borrow my lighter, and promptly lit a cigarette... something which would prove to be significant later on. As they opened the back doors, and got into my car...we exchanged greetings, and they immediately lit a couple of joints and started passing them around. Once the joints came around to me, I realized that this wasn't very good stuff...so I pulled out a couple of my joints and lit them up. As the joints got passed around, everyone in the car became engrossed in conversation...and I don't think anybody noticed that an old car was pulling up in front of mine, blocking me in. As I became aware of it...I watched  two guys jump out of the car and approach mine, until they were only a few feet away. As I saw them approach, I thought to myself "who are these guys?" I thought they were bikers, because that's what they looked like and were dressed like...they were disheveled and dirty...but as they walked steadily in the direction of the car, I thought to myself "what the hell do these guys think they're doing?" One of them walked directly up to the driver's door, and although the windows were up...I plainly heard him say..."Hartford Police...shut off the car!" Everyone in the car got very quiet, and I know at that moment I still didn't believe him. I thought he was joking, or that either I was about to be mugged, or that someone just wanted a few free tokes. But this guy wasn't very friendly at all...and without moving I replied with a little bit of attitude..."Yeah...right! Show me your badge." I couldn't believe my eyes when he reached under his shirt, and pulled a chain with a badge that read "Hartford Police Detective" out, stuck it in front of the window with one hand, and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol with the other...and aimed it at my head. As I slowly realized that this guy really was the Police...my door was pulled open, and he again yelled at me to shut off the car. I couldn't really comprehend what was actually happening I don't think...the whole thing happened very fast...and felt surreal...but I turned off the engine, and didn't move. I remember them being on each side of the car, and pulling open the back doors and telling everybody in back to get out....very slowly. As each guy from the band did, they were frisked for weapons and searched for drugs. That took a couple of minutes, but it felt like a lot longer than that to me. Then they told Jay to get out, and  went through the same routine with him. Finally, they told me to get out of the car, and as I did, one of the cops frisked me, while the other one went through the back seat. It only took a second before the one searching the car came up with a small amount of marijuana in a bag, and a couple of joints that were both obviously dropped on the floor of my car by my "friends." As the cop searching me got to my back pockets, he found the leather tobacco pouch I always carried, and when he opened it and found the large vial of coke...and all the joints that were still in there...his eyes lit up...and he smiled at me and sarcastically said..."I guess this must be the leader of the band." I knew I was screwed, but it still hadn't registered yet just how screwed...because I still hadn't remembered  about all the stuff that was still in the trunk of my car. I was actually thinking about the guys in that band...and how they had an audience waiting. I was really pissed that they had thought only of themselves when they had dropped their stuff on the floor of my car...but I understood why they did it. I'm sure it was almost a reflex. And since I knew that I was fucked either way...because everything had been found in my car...I looked at the cop who was obviously enjoying himself, and said... "these guys didn't do anything...and all this stuff is mine...so why don't you just give them a break and let them go...so they can finish their gig." He didn't say a word...but took my keys and opened the trunk. As he opened it up and I saw my leather bag sitting in there....my heart sank...because it was at that moment that I realized that this was going to be really bad. The cop opened up the bag...looked at his partner and said "Bingo!"...as he pulled out the six pounds of marijuana, and grabbed the thermos and opened it up. As he pulled out what was inside...over two ounces of cocaine packaged for sale in many different quantities...he just walked over to me and said "You're under arrest!" As I was being cuffed, and his partner was cuffing Jay, and I just looked at him and said "I'm sorry, man." The cop then looked at the guys in the band and said "go on...get the hell out of here!"...and as they quickly did...a few cruisers arrived on the scene, and Jay and I were put in the backseat of one of them and driven the twenty blocks or so to the Hartford Police Headquarters for booking.

Heading For a Fall

 With the album nearing completion, and the only thing really holding up the pressing and distribution of the first five thousand copies was a lack of funds for that purpose, I spent the next couple of weeks focusing on trying to track down friends and customers who owed me large sums of money on their drug accounts, and who were doing their very best to avoid paying me, by staying unavailable, or below the radar. I hated this part of the business. It was so different than what I had grown accustomed to for so long, and hassling people felt very uncomfortable to me...and a lot like spinning my wheels, to a certain extent, because most of these people knew me well enough to know that if they chose to rip me off, or walk away from their debts, I was very unlikely to do much about it. Violence had never been in my nature...but because I was a suspect in two open murder investigations, and continued to be involved with highly illegal activities on a regular basis in spite of that...keeping a very low profile, and not doing anything to attract the attention of the police had become a neccessity for me...something that most of my customers were well aware of. Although they also had to fear legal consequences from their activities...I plainly was in a much more precarious legal situation than any of them...or so I thought. There was one person who I had become casual friends with a few years earlier, and had occasionally done business with over that period of time, who proved to be the exception to that rule. Jay was younger than me, who had a very likeable personality, and a way of getting people to relax that got him through many doors, including mine. Although there were times when I frowned on his lack of ethics, his carelessness, and the apparent absence of good sense in some of his business dealings, he had been widely accepted and taken in by most of my Shaboo "family"...so although I had some doubts about the way he conducted himself and his business, I did find him rather likeable...and found many people whose judgment I did trust on these matters...were dealing with him and socializing with him on a regular basis. I guess the lesson here was that I should have trusted my own instincts more...like I always had in the past. Once again, addiction, and my own tunnel-vision had clouded my judgment. About six  months before I began recording the album, Jay had gone to Florida...supposedly to visit with some "friends" for a few weeks. He ended up staying down there for many, many months instead...and after Avalanche's breakup, and my decision a few months later to record the album...I had pretty much forgotten all about him...until he returned unexpectedly, and immediately started requesting me to rekindle our old business relationship, and provide him with products that I had occasionally provided for him over a year earlier. Although there were a few rumors circulating that Jay might have gotten in some legal trouble in Florida, allegedly getting caught up in some smuggling operation gone bad...nobody that I knew seemed to be able to confirm or deny if that was true...and most people I talked with about it seemed to feel that if it were true...then Jay would be in a Florida prison. He seemed to have easily slid back into many of his old circles with very little difficulty, after returning to Connecticut. My need to generate large amounts of cash to complete the album, my shrinking customer base and ever-diminishing market share, along with my total inability to recognize that I was breaking my own rules...and taking a risk that only a year or two earlier would have been out of the question for me to even contemplate...caused me to make a decision that would change my life forever. Although people I was close to had recently had business dealings with Jay that had not worked out well for them financially, due to his inability to keep payment schedules...I ended up fronting Jay product that he should have been able to turn to cash in a few days, but the balance was still unpaid on...months later. As the album's production was now being delayed strictly due to a lack of funds, and because I was also losing the ability to take advantage of new business opportunities myself...due to my inability to pay my sources for products that payment was long overdue on...I decided it was time to apply some real pressure to a number of "delinquent" accounts...Jay's being one of them. I would make a point of being at the houses of people who owed me money every single day, because one thing I had learned about the drug business is...when somebody is in it...they are involved in it every day...and because of that, if I wasn't on top of collecting funds when they were due...they would almost certainly be re-invested on some other product, from some other source...or squandered...and then the waiting would begin all over again. I began dropping in at Jay's place two or three times a day, hoping to "catch" him at home...and I left numerous messages on his answering machine, demanding payments from him, and as I became more frustrated with him, the messages I left on his machine began to sound more and more like meaningless ultimatums to me. One day, out of the blue, Jay called me, and told me he would meet me at my house that evening to discuss the situation. I told him that would be fine as long as he had the money he owed me, and I told him that I had made plans to go to Hartford to listen to some friends of mine who had a band, and were performing at a club there that night, and who had been regular guests at the recording sessions for the album. I let him know that if he wanted to, he could come to Hartford with me to see them perform. We made arrangements to meet at my house that night...and I hung up the phone thinking I was finally going to get paid by him. I almost forgot about the conversation as the day wore on though, because my experience with Jay had been that he would make an appointment to pay me, and then never show up for it. Later that night, as I was getting ready to leave, Jay called again, and said he was on his way...and would be at my house shortly. Since I wanted the money he owed me, I agreed to wait for him, and twenty minutes later Jay was knocking at my door. As I let him in, I sensed an uneasiness in him, but thinking it was about his long overdue debt with me, I didn't think much of it at the time. We talked for a while, and then Jay paid me about half the money he owed me, which I was very happy to get, and as an enticement to him, I showed him some new product that I told him I would make available to him as soon as he paid off the remainder of what he owed me. Then I told him I needed to get ready to head to Hartford, as we were already behind schedule. I took the product I had shown him, some pounds of very high quality Gold Columbian pot, and a couple of ounces extremely high quality Peruvian cocaine which I kept in a thermos, and after putting all of it into a leather shoulder bag that I often carried around with me, I walked out of the house telling him I'd be right back...leaving him with Don, who was home at the time, and was also friendly with him.  I then walked out to my driveway, and put the bag in the trunk of my Mercedes, which, along with my other car, a 1966 Olds Cutlass convertible in mint condition, was where I usually kept most of my inventory. I  had found that by doing that, it prevented me from losing drugs in burglaries, which I had been a victim of numerous times in the past, especially when people knew I was going to be elsewhere (like in the studio, or on stage.) I had been dealing for so long without any legal problems, that I didn't even see what an unneccessary risk it was doing that...carrying drugs around when I didn't need to. I thought losing the inventory and the money it represented in a theft, was a greater risk to me, and to the album...which I believed was my ticket out of that business...than the law was. I also failed to remember that the driveway was plainly visible from the living room loft where I had left Jay. After stashing my bag in the car, I  walked back into the house, and as I got ready to leave, Jay asked if he could use the phone, because he wanted to tell a girlfriend to meet him at the club in Hartford. I told him to use the phone in my bedroom, and as I tidied up the house I listened to Jay on the phone...arranging with his "date" to meet at the parking lot of the club, and how to recognize my car. He hung up, and said he was ready, and as we left for Hartford, I was expecting a very pleasant evening indeed. Little did I know that the phone call he had just made...hadn't been to a girlfriend, as he had told me...but to the Hartford Police Undercover Narcotics Task Force...and that with my own telephone...I had just been set up to be busted.                  

The Approaching Storm

It has been a crazy few months here in Florida. I presently live in North Palm Beach, and from the end of August to the end of September, Florida was hit by four major hurricanes. Two of them impacted Palm Beach County as virtual direct hits, and a third had an indirect, but unwelcome presence here as well. Life here was seriously disrupted for the better part of two months, with loss of electrical power, refrigeration, stoves, air conditioning, in some cases water, and often, the ability to even move around in search of remedies, due to gas shortages and police curfews. In short, many of the things we all take for granted as just the normal things we enjoy in America were suddenly gone....and it was pretty uncomfortable. I took solace in knowing why it was happening, and that it was a temporary condition. And just when I thought things started to feel like life was returning to normal here again...a much more frightening storm has appeared on the horizon, and the consequences from this approaching storm, although just as uncomfortable, and just as foreign to me as an American, do not appear to be something any of us in this country will be able to recover from any time soon...because this storm is not of natural origin...it is a result of the apathy, the gullibility, the closed-mindedness, and the conscious choice of millions of Americans to surrender their rights, their freedoms, and their country to a group of people who, as I write this, are already wasting no time in consolidating their positions of power, and who are systematically, but very speedily, removing the checks and balances that were designed into the Constitution by our very wise Founding Fathers. These safeguards have been the only means we have had to keep very powerful people from usurping the power of the people...which derives it strength from the diversity of many voices and many points of view, in essence, the truth...and they were created to prevent the narrow agenda of any one group from dictating life, values, morality, and the definition of what is patriotic or "American" to the rest of us. Our National Motto has always been "E Pluribus Unum...Out of Many...One." We need to remember that our diversity is our strength. The Election of 2004 is behind us. Regardless of whatever political persuasion any citizen may identify with...one thing is very clear. There are two very different parties...and both are equally valid. Both reflect very clear-cut differences of opinion and values about freedom and democracy...and on which direction we, as a country, should be headed to best reflect those values. But both have a lot of common ground. The tactics of fear and divisiveness have obscured that truth. We are so distracted with semantics, negativity, and drivel, that we fail to see the deeper truth. We all love America, and on most points...we all agree. One of the things I have learned on my own spiritual journey is that there are truths I hear with my head, and others, the deeper ones, that I know in my heart and my gut to be the real truths. So today, with all that is within me, I believe that our Common Welfare must come first. Our personal rights and freedoms depend on national unity. It is our common love of freedom, fairness, free speech, tolerance, and mutual respect, and doing what our hearts tell us we must, that demands we make sure those values are preserved, for they are the core values that truly bind us together as a people, and as a nation. Those commonly shared values we all have as Americans far outweigh the differences of opinion we, as a people, may have on other matters...and it is those basic values and rights that now, are in jeopardy...and are so close to being stolen from us...and the irony is...the deed is being "packaged and wrapped"  in religion and patriotism...even though the two...where matters of government are concerned...are supposed to be forever seperate. Americans are split right down the middle on the question of...in what direction should this country be headed? By the narrowest of margins, we have elected a team to "guide" us for the next four years. There will always be a winning side and a losing side in any election. But make no mistake about it...there is no winning side...if the country loses its soul in the process. If that happens...then we are all on the losing side. A very narrow (and some people believe fraudulent) margin of victory will never translate as a mandate or consensus by all the people...or as a justification for adopting one political agenda over another... if it essentially means disenfranchising half the people of this country in order to do so. To do that, is to ignore every premise of fairness, democracy, civility, truth, justice, tolerance, and respect for others that this country has survived by for over two centuries. So the real question is...did the people who voted for four more years of this team really know what agenda they were voting for...or were they sold an image...wrapped up in an American flag? Was this team honestly represented to the American people...or was their record and their agenda obscured by the distortions in judgment that always arise when people let their fear and their anger make their choices for them? And four years from now, will the free election process that has made us the model for the world for over two hundred years...really be a process that still operates as it was intended to, or will it be totally corrupted, altered, or worst of all...just a memory? This seems to be the direction we are headed in. In less than two weeks since the election was conceded, there has already been a massive shift in this government. Its new face reflects the installation of, in nearly all the primary positions of power...a very small and select group of like-minded people who have their own agenda...an agenda which completely ignores the concerns of half the population in this country...and misrepresents their agenda to the rest. It appears that this new administration believes that if half the country doesn't want, or is offended by, all the changes that are happening so quietly and so quickly that even the media is dizzy trying to keep track of them all...the message clearly being sent is...that they just better get used to it...because like it or not, those changes are being imposed anyway. When the issues of Pre-emptive War, War under False Pretenses, Secrecy in Government, Erosion and Elimination of Constitutional Protections and Due Process of Law, the legalized Poisoning of our Air and Water, and complete fiscal irresponsibility with regard to the issues of Taxation and National Spending...all take a backseat to issues of religion and "moral"values...then we, as a people, have surely lost our way. Those are issues that do not require government interference...in fact, our country was founded on the premise that the people should have the right and the freedom to make those choices for themselves...rather than have the government make those decisions for them. To allow that to happen would be no less than all of us surrendering our Constitutional guarantees, and  is inherently improper, since "morality and values" are subjective, by definition. I can't speak for anyone else, but for me, that sounds a lot like what was happening in Germany in the 1930's, and back then too, much of that country was divided about what was happening there...but the superpatriots,  the zealots, and the fear-mongers in Germany who believed they were "superior" carried the day, and in the end even they were overwhelmed by the speed in which things in their own "homeland" changed beyond their control...and how fast even their rights dissolved into the mantra of "this is the way it is...comply or be arrested." My mind keeps going back to the words of Mr. Spock, from the Star Trek series, who in his relentless and irrefutable logic stated..."the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few...or the one." What I clearly see today are the wants of the few, outweighing the needs of the many...wrapped up in a hollow message of concern for the greater good, even though the evidence, and the actions of those claiming that...prevent those words from ringing true. I know that what I see happening...and it isn't what I'm told is happening. No matter what my head wants to believe...when something feels wrong...it's because it IS wrong. And so I am afraid for us as a country. I am afraid for all of us. The problem with not learning the lessons of history...the problem with not paying attention...is that if we don't pay attention, if we don't learn from history...it will repeat itself. We are travelling very quickly down a precariously slippery slope...and the abyss looms directly ahead...unless we slow down and pay real attention to the road we are on. Although I believe that ultimately, everything happens exactly as it supposed to, and that the Universe is always unfolding as it should...I have come to know that sometimes the Universe teaches us through consequences...because pain is the greatest motivator for change. I pray that we can change the course we are on before we fall into that abyss.  I believe pain is inevitable in life...it is how we learn, and how we grow...but misery is a choice. I hope we choose to pay attention to the path we are on, while we can still change it. The time we still have left to do that grows shorter with each passing day. And no less than the survival of "The Great Experiment" in human civilization is what is truly at stake.

Overwhelmed With The Details

As the six month process of recording "Going for Broke" entered it last few weeks, I began thinking about the other parts of the project that were now becoming very important. Everything related to this album was pretty much up to me to take care of, since I had no major-label recording contract, and no management deal...and as a result of that, there was no personnel or staff taking care of all the details. Aside from writing, publishing and recording all the music...I was also producing the album myself...and releasing it on my label, Golden Sun Records. That meant that the album design...including photography, graphics, lyric sleeves...virtually anything and everything that would determine what the final product would look like...became decisions I was responsible for making...and paying for. This was new territory for me...I had gone through this process on a much smaller scale when I had released Avalanche's first single...and even that was a lot of work...but doing an album required me to pay attention to many more crucial details that didn't even enter the picture with a single. Did I want color photography on the front and back of the album jacket? Would black and white photography on the back side of the album jacket reduce my chances of having the album being taken seriously? Did I want an album that opened like a book with lyrics printed directly onto the album itself, or should I have a standard single sleeve album jacket, with a high quality gloss paper inner sleeve with lyrics and liner notes printed on that? How many copies of the album should the initial pressing consist of? Should I spend extra money to have the album mastered by professional mastering companies in New York City? I have always believed that cutting corners is something that always diminishes the final result...and I was determined not to do that...but as I started to find out how expensive putting together an album that reflected all the things that I wanted in place on the finished product would actually cost...I realized just how appropriately I had inadvertantly named this album. It quickly became apparent that I wasn't going to be able to do everything I wanted to do with the packaging of this first record...and still be able to afford to press an initial five thousand copies...which was the minimum amount that made sense. To press less than that amount would nearly double the cost per record, and would pretty much make it impossible to make any money on record sales at all. If things worked out well for this record...I really believed I'd be able to resurrect the band...and as result of that, and with the income generated from performance and record sales, I thought I'd be able to improve on some areas of album design on the next record. On top of the thousands of dollars I already owed for all the studio time, the costs involved with making the decisions about all these other things...the photographer...the photo shoot...the layout of the lyric sleeve for the printer...the decision about mastering and manufacturing...it seemed as though every expense, in every area, had taken a quantum leap from what I had anticipated the cost would be when I started the project. That was definetely my own fault. I know I could have investigated the costs on many of these things before I got started...but getting started had seemed like the only priority that mattered, at the time. At any rate, it was too late to do anything about it by this time...I already had a small fortune and my entire future tied up in this project...and to not go ahead with these final details wasn't really an option...no matter what the cost. The pressure to generate large amounts of money quickly had never been greater...and it was pretty overwhelming to me because the stress that I was experiencing from my business was at an all-time high, too. I think I just attributed that to the increased need for cash, when the truth was...the business was really changing...and along with it...the people I was dealing with. I had always stayed very aware of what was happening with all of my customers and how they conducted their business...because if they got sloppy and had legal problems...it wouldn't be long before I would, too. Paying attention to all of those details had always kept me safe from legal problems for a very long time. But as I said earlier...I was now suffering from tunnel-vision...the completion of this album was really the only thing I was really paying attention to. With all of the decisions I was responsible for making...and all the financial pressures that were quickly mounting up as a result of them...only large amounts of money to finish this project...and re-establish momentum with the radio stations and rekindle the public's interest in seeing Avalanche in performance... would enable me to get that major label deal, or sign with Tony Oteda, or someone like him, so that finally I would be able to just write, record, and perform...and leave all of these business details to the people who were professionals at doing that...which was all I had ever really wanted anyway. The one thing that I was feeling very good about was the way the album had turned out. It was a very good first album...and once again I felt that Avalanche was breaking all the rules of the music business by doing independently, something that nearly always required the financial backing and support of a major record label. As Peter and I put the finishing touches on the mixes...and selected a song sequence for the album...I realized that once again...I had taken an impossible dream...and had turned it into something that was about to become...a reality. The record sounded very good, and as I thought ahead, I tried to envision what the actual album would look like...in finished form...and imagined seeing it on all the record store shelves. Once again, I was feeling pretty good about myself...and my ability to overcome impossible odds. But I should have known from all the times I had already experienced an incredible euphoria... followed by an incredibly fast demise...that "the other shoe" was about to drop. I have since learned something in my recovery that totally escaped me during most of my active addiction. It's a really simple, but important lesson. Good things always happen when I do the next right thing...because the Universe is ALWAYS paying attention...and when I don't do the next right thing, or my motives or methods are askew...well, the Universe is paying attention to that, too. Regardless of what I think...the energy I send out to the Universe...positive or negative...healing or harmful...always comes back to me ten-fold. Although I believe the music I had created was quite good...and for the most part, very positive and worthwhile...the methods that I was using to try to bring that music to the world were not. And another important lesson I have learned is...that anything really worthwhile takes time...and manifests in reality if it is supposed to...and on its own timetable...not mine. Trying to make something happen faster, because I think something is "overdue"...is still me being in conflict with a Universal Flow that is much more powerful than I am. And when I think I'm in control of events...and when I make rigid plans and timetables...believing that regardless of how faulty my logic, my thinking, or my actions may be, things will work out exactly how and when I think they should...well....God just laughs.

To All Readers of My Journal

Hi Everyone...

I've just been notified that my Journal is a Featured Screen again on AOL Music Talk. I'm very honored and flattered. I refer everyone who is here for the first time, to my June 8, 2004 entry...which gives some background about the journal... and instructions on how to read it from the beginning (which I believe makes it much more enjoyable...to do otherwise is like trying to make sense out of a movie that you walked into an hour late. Many readers have contacted me over the past six months to tell me how compelling the story is...and there have been nearly 6000 hits on the site since I started it in October, 2003. (nearly 2500 hits since I changed the site address a few months ago) The  journal chronologically documents my life, which has been rather exciting, and at times, pretty dark...and my musical journey...which is ongoing.  It includes my gigs with bands like AC/DC, Buddy Guy, Rick Derringer, and many, many others. Thanks again to everyone at AOL Entertainment for selecting my Journal...and for anyone who chooses to read it...I hope you enjoy it...All comments are welcomed.

                                  Thanks....Michael/Navlanch

    Note: A few entries back...I strayed from the chronolgical story of my life to add a few entries reflecting my politics...and some of my spiritual beliefs, as well. This being an election year, and what I believe is probably the most important election in my lifetime...I felt compelled to write outside of the normal format of this journal...and so I encourage all readers who may be interested to check those four entries out. Please keep in mind that these four consecutive entries are vastly different than the rest of this journal. The entries in question begin with the June 30, 2004 entry..."New Risks...As the World Turns". If anyone prefers to bypass these entries...you now know on which date they begin. These entries are just my opinions...they are, however, still based largely on my life experience.