The Free Radical

(Memories of East Texas by Michelle Shocked from her 1988 “debut” album Short, Sharp, Shocked)

(Ever since March 2013, Michelle Shocked poses a little conundrum for me. At that time, she effectively ended her own career by issuing an insane homophobic rant onstage at a club in San Fran. All of her subsequent engagements were promptly cancelled as a result… and her career has been unable to recover. I’m left in the position of still really liking her music and appreciating her as an artist, but being simultaneously repulsed by her as a person. Now, you might say “But Niels, you’ve never met her…” and in that you’d be wrong.

During a music festival several years ago in Smithers BC for which Michelle Shocked was the headline act, I was fortunate enough to attend a songwriting workshop hosted by the quirky artist. That’s one of the perks of having a performer’s pass at such festivals; unknown artists such as myself get to mix, mingle and learn from the established artists in close intimate settings. Well, amidst a brief thunder shower, we gathered in a backstage area to await Michelle. The appointed time came and went and many of the performers gathered there figured she wasn’t going to show up, so they left. We were quickly thinned down to about a dozen people when her limo finally pulled up and a very apologetic Michelle Shocked tumbled out with guitar in hand and proceeded to take magnetic control of the scene very quickly. We were treated to an impromptu performance of Michelle walking around our circle singing into our faces from just inches away. I could’ve tweaked her on the nose if I felt so inclined. And after her inappropriate meltdown last year, I wish I’d have flicked her nose when I had the chance… flicked it hard! Anyway, she is a natural performer and obviously deeply artsy, so I’m trying my best to forgive her momentary lapse of reason… understanding that her grip on reality might actually be a bit tenuous.)

Now, back to the Report…

Right on cue, just as the Galactic Historian warned, a whole schwack of psychic parasites were unleashed during the days of the solstice. The physical manifestation of that infiltration into the collective was a dramatic upsurge in the mosquito population. Suddenly, they’re full-on!

A strategy that works well for me in coping with the clouds of parasites is to ride my mountain bike instead of casually strolling through the woods.

The mossies can’t keep up… and it gives me a chance to venture farther afoot on my daily excursions. There’s also the additional benefit of increased cardio… something which I have to give due consideration to now that I’m pushing 50. But so far, I’ve got to admit that 48 feels pretty damn good!

So we’ll see where the adventure takes us next… Sitka and me.