Home base.

Wait, I didn’t hear that last bit. Are you saying that we can’t even get in the front door let alone the living quarters? What the fuck. Where is that Goldilocks Planet again? Cygnus?

Oh, hi. Well, we have made our triumphant return to planet Earth, our somewhat disapproving mother, having completed Interstellar Tour 2014 in support of our latest album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. And as any of you who travel in interstellar space know all too well, when you get back from a long journey, typically you find that everything has gone to hell in your absence. It’s a severe disincentive to traveling, I can tell you. But what’s the alternative? Hole up in a leaky hammer mill all winter? Not a chance.

Big Green’s loaner rocket touched down in Central New York around 1:00 a.m local time on Thursday, only to find that someone had changed the padlock on the gate to the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, where we have made our home for the past decade or two (because, as Frank Zappa said, all of the bands live together). Different lock, for sure – unlike the old one, this one works, and none of us had the key, so we sent Marvin (my personal robot assistant) over to the local constabulary and asked for assistance. (Marvin was promptly arrested for impersonating a robot, which seems unjust and vaguely insulting.)

A tense scene unfolds inside the hammer millOkay, turns out, someone moved into the Hammer Mill during our absence, and they don’t seem eager to relinquish their squatter’s rights in deference to our own. What’s worse is that they appear to be affiliated with that rancher out in Nevada – what’s his name again? You know – that dude that has been grazing his cattle for free on federal land, owes about a million dollars in back grazing fees, and got together a posse of sorts to take up arms and fight off the Bureau of Land Management. The folks in the mill, well … they’re kind of like the Led Zeppelin tribute band version of those Nevada militia dudes. They got the hats, they got the pickup trucks, and … crucially … they got the guns.

Just trying to negotiate entry right now without getting my hair parted by a 30-30 rifle round. That Goldilocks Planet is looking better all the time. I wonder if they have the extraterrestrial equivalent of QE2 up there.

Unopposed.

Do we live in a democracy? Formally speaking, yes, if by democracy you mean representative democracy and, for most races, one person, one vote. But an election truly democratic if an incumbent runs unopposed? What choice is there but to assent or remain at home? That is the reality for a significant number of communities across the country, including my own. Our Congressman, Richard Hanna, will not face a Democratic opponent this fall. The county Democratic party has said they could not find anyone willing to run. What that tells me is, they likely could not find a millionaire, because after losing to the G.O.P. twice, the national Democratic party is probably not willing to drop another thin dime on this district.

Permanent fixture?That has been the situation here over very long stretches of time, including every election throughout my youth, but there have been exceptions. One was the election of 2006, when our longtime Republican Congressman Sherry Boehlert retired. The national Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee saw an opportunity in what seemed like (and turned out to be) a Democratic-leaning year. They poured some significant resources into this district in support of the local D.A. at the time, Michael Arcuri. I worked on the campaign, manning the phone bank, and it was unlike anything I had seen short of a presidential campaign. They leased a building (an old restaurant) and set up a VOIP phone system with about 20 workstations. They sent a very sharp team of consultants to manage the ground game. It was a pretty impressive effort, and it succeeded, electing the first Democrat to that seat since well before my arrival on this planet.

Needless to say, the largess did not survive that election year. During Arcuri’s re-election campaign in 2008, the phone bank was in a cramped union headquarters in downtown Utica.  I used my cell phone for calls some nights. He got over the line just barely that year, apparently without significant investment on the part of the national party, only to be knocked off in the deluge of 2010, the consequences of which vex us still. Token opposition from a sadly underfunded  Democratic candidate ended in predictable failure to unseat Hanna last year, and now the DCCC has likely written this district off. So we’re stuck with a supposed moderate who sends me flyers on his efforts to protect the “2nd Amendment” against background checks, on his battle against “Obamacare”, and other clap-trap collateral handed to him by his much more generous national party.

So, hey … nothing to see here. Welcome to the one-party state that is Central New York … or as Schumer has dubbed it, “Silicon Valley of the Drones.”

luv u,

jp

Dwarfed ambitions.

Interstellar Tour Log: April 10, 2014
On the surface of Dwarf Planet 2012 VP.

That’s it. I am officially declaring our Interstellar Tour over and done with. I’m sick of these stupid slug lines reminding people where the hell we are all the time. Also, we’ve simply run out of places to play here on Dwarf Planet 2012 VP. That’s likely because, aside from a few street-corner fried plantain vendors, there is virtually no commerce here. This planetoid is devoid of performance venues. We actually set up and jammed in a nearby crater just on the off chance that random extraterrestrials would happen upon us. Nothing. Not a sausage.  This is just like back home.

Ah, home. The sainted abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. It’s leaky roof, its moldy basement, its crumbling walls, its heaps of abandoned hammer parts and random knobs of discarded pig iron that I keep tripping over even after having squatted there for more than a decade. I miss that dump, and I’m not alone in that sentiment. Hell, even Marvin (my personal robot assistant) looked a little misty yesterday as he scrolled through photos of the mill on his laptop. Lincoln seems like a man without a rostrum. The mansized tuber, well … he’s a plant. Don’t expect a lot of overt sentiment out of him.

That's the ticket!So, yeah, after months in space, we are ready to take the long trip home, back from the Ort Cloud, back from hastily named space rocks that are hard to classify. Before we go, though, we want to leave a stake in the ground here on Dwarf Planet 2012 VP. My thought is, well, let’s name the sucker after ourselves. Let’s claim it for Big Green, well and truly. We could be subtle about it and just shift the name to 2012 BG. Or we could go all-out and call it Big Greenland (though I was reserving that for a future theme park). We’ve got friends at NASA … I’m guessing this is do-able. (And yes, we have to ask for permission, since we need telemetric data from the space agency to find our way back to the mill.)

Homeward bound, chaps!

Weird ass music since 1986