misipitrik

http://zebox.com/misipitrik is where the music is plus literature.......

See, when you sit for a meal, it's usually about the same time of day. The seated position and the first smell of pizza alerts the double helix, and it switches on the "feeding ignition," just like it did 6,000 years ago, 60,000 years ago, 6 million years ago, back in a time when three meals a day were not automatic, back when surviving the winter meant increasing body fat, especially in the case of the female for the little ones.

When you eat standing up several things are going to happen. First is that within a short period of time the "feeding signal" is going to diminish, then dim. I make myself something to eat (after I make my mother's meal; I take care of her). I put it on the counter, take a couple of bites and a swig of Guinness, then I walk over and turn on the TV. Then I realize I promised mom I would water her plants, I do that then take a few more bites (the ritual is being dismantled). Then I tune my guitar. Get the picture?

There is one more thing. Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner must end totally and completely.

Especially Thanksgiving. In yesteryear, 60 or 6 million years ago, when things got cool and crisp, that set the double helix into overdrive and the urge to gorge evolved into a gorge celebration, and this day alone can cause metabolic insanity.

Richard Ward sells his music online under his nom de plume "misipitrik" via his__ZeBQX_page. CalorieLab Calorie Counter News.

Footnote: There is one more part to the behavior modification, you must transfer eating from the celebration genre to the visiting the toilet genre.......EAT ALONE (at least 90% of the time).

richard ward

nttp://2ebox.com/misipitrik

Zebox reviewed my music and cross referenced me to Dylan, Kristofferson, Cohen, and

Guthrie........ Jazz musicians in NYC, Oslo, Paris and LA have called me a Serious/lncredible/Unique

guitarist and one called me a "bitchin barbarian", which makes sense since I am a guitarist but actually
not a musician. I have publishing contracts for a song, film/tv, an audio-book and an instrumental. I have
had six poems and one short story published in 2006(one in an academic review). Zebox has featured
me five times, four times more than the next artist out of the six thousand on board and more than a
million people have been exposed to 'misipitrik¹. So it is kind of disconcerting that the Vertical Diet' is
causing me to receive more exposure and recognition than all my other work put together. So I have
decided to charge for this, I also have decided to charge for guitar lessons, 'Jirmenko' style guitar
instruction will appear on the site in a few weeks. So here it is: If you get something out of the
StandUpMan/Vertical Diet or the Jirmenko guitar lesson then send me an e-mail and I'll send you an
address where you can send a check, for whatever you feel it's worth. Later if you get something else
send another check........ really!

                                                       The Magic Children

I wrote “The House of Dreams” for five people.  Lattice(my grandmother), Joyce(my mother), Bobby Lee(my brother) and Athos, Porthos, and Aramis(the Magic Children).  In this scenario Aramis has a vagina.  I played the role of D’ Artagnan, the innocent, ignorant country bumpkin come to town, we were joined at the hip for nine years.  I think they thought I was a puppy that talked, at first.

I had a day job as a representative for a pharmaceutical company, that’s how I met them.  Athos was a life and death man, an ER doctor.  Porthos was a pediatric neurologist, Aramis graduated from law school (law review) and her first case as a tort lawyer earned her $90,000.00.  Remember when Hawkeye and Trapper made a bet to see if Hotlips was really a blond.  Well Athos and Porthos, in full dress military regalia, stepped off two paces in front of the entire pediatric clinic at Ft Bragg with a gallon of red wine each and had a wine spewing contest. Like a dog I was befriended.  Aramis was a ‘Frodo fan who could roll a number with one hand and once took me to a cock fight.  They were simply beautiful and I was alternately entertained, tickled, mystified, intellectually challenged, and happy when I was near them 90% of the time and we chose to be near each other, well lots.

Porthos called in the fall of 1977 and said, ”Trik I’ve decided to go into private practice and I’m going to have a big cocktail party to introduce my partner and I to the medical community, why don’t you come up and play your guitar”.  Up was Nashville,  I lived in Chapel Hill and Athos had bought a house forty yards away, to the chagrinne of his wife.  We split for Nashville without her.  There were at least a hundred people at the party, playing for them was a lot of fun.  After the set I started to put my guitar away when this guy walked up, sat down on a coffee table and told me he was a vice president of one of the big Nashville Record Companies, the one George and Tammy recorded for……jezus.  He said I had passed the audition and he would like to introduce me the rest of the family.

I found out quickly that Porthos had gone to high school with this guy and had set the whole thing up so that if his friend wasn’t impressed I would never know.  Now that is a friend of the heart.

Athos was an adorable ‘sandals in the snow, building a mystery, genuine, bonifide yuppie.  He turned me on to Dylan, Richard Brautigan, Hogman Maxie, Dali, it goes on.

At this point they have collectively been married 11 times.  Porthos has lost his license to practice medicine and sweet Aramis, well she turned into the Wicked Witch of the West for a while, maybe she still is.

How did this happen……….simple, they never learned to read.

Athos, Porthos and Aramis were born with gifts that were serious ‘blessings/curses’, kind of like Midas or those with perfect pitch or your average musician or male porn star.  They were born with prodigious organic computers and from a very early age they were intoxicated by what IQ points can do.  In fact lost in the holo-deck, in their own private video game.  {The Magic Children Never Learned to Read.}  They were scanners, at an Olympic level but scanners just like challenged pre-teens or Savants or most of us.

The Magic Children were walking photo copiers.  Memorizing was no problem, forgetting was. They were all three smart as hell but not bright and they were clueless where the difference was concerned.  They did not realize that the organic computer was a tool, nothing more, living but not alive, genetic, not acquired and not part of the Intellect.  They drew their synthetic self esteem from the functions of this body part much like OJ did from his legs, and the Magic Children were something else…….prisoners in solitary confinement. 

I could hear my little brother Bobby Lee coming so I ducked down and heard a sound I can hear to this day………….click.  The sound of the air tight cedar chest lid closing and locking.  The air was gone in a few seconds.  I began to scream, “Bobby Bobby go get Mommie”.  He heard me and went to get her but at the bottom of the steps he ran into Brownie our six week old puppie.

Mom has no idea how long I was in that coffin before she found me, but I was dead.  Yeah, deep purple, unconscious and not breathing…….dead.  This was before mouth to mouth resuscitation but slinging me over her shoulder and running to the neighbors house, jumping two ditches along the way then realizing she had left her other baby in the house alone, turning around and sprinting back kick started me, natures defibulator. The doctor said brain damage was possible and it showed up in the eighth grade when I took my IQ test……..99, or 89, it was long ago I forget which one.  Dad stood there for a long time when I handed him the results.  Then he walked into the kitchen and slapped mom in the face.  He took me down to the hospital for blood tests and the awful truth came back.  I really was his son.

So, what can you do with an IQ of 99 or 89, whatever?    Well, quite a bit it turns out, check out my mate Forest.  I didn’t win the medal of honor but overall I edged his ass.  But then I had a few IQ points on him. 

1)      Selected for “Boys State” my junior year….turned it down to the horror of my teachers and the principal so I could go fishing with my best friend (smart I ain’t)…the kid who went in my place made 1565 on his SAT’s out of 1600. I made 89something.

2)      Graduated from college

3)      Qualified for Naval Flight School and completed PreFlight, Primary, and Basic Ground School plus all flying until I was required to get into the cedar chest disguised as a flight simulator……once was to many and enough.

4)      Number One Salesman for Texaco in my first full year as a salesman. That was 1971, they had 1800 salesmen that year.

5)      Reviewed as one of the great singer/songwriters by an Indy site(Zebox).  They compared me to Bob Dylan, Kris Kristofferson, Leonard Cohen, Woody Guthrie

6)      At this point I have received four publishing contracts and have had seven poems and one short story published in magazines.

Back to IQ points.  The intellect is forced to pump iron if the organic computer is compromised.  No you will never become proctologist, but you can become a history teacher.  The amount of data you would be required to absorb to enter Med school would be like hunkering down in front of a gatling gun with a catchers mitt.

I said all that to say this……….Reading is different from scanning.  When Maya Angelo was Margurite Johnson(at age 13) she began to scan a book called ‘The Count of Monte Christo’.  Somewhere in that book she teleported and touched the mind of a Black Frenchman named Alexander Dumas. Soon after she did the same thing with Homer, Mark Twain.  Each time she leased a condominium in her intellect to the teleporter, each time their wisdom and philosophy made her stronger……she was pumping iron with some magnificent personal trainers. She has done this more than a thousand times since and that is why she is the Poet Laureate of this part of the galaxy…..and rich.

                                                          Pentimento in Blue

When an artist paints a canvas, then the original painting is later painted over years later, the top layer of paint may thin, allowing the first work to be seen. I paint with musical watercolors on pen and ink sketches.

I bought my first guitar one month after my brother’s Navy Jet crashed, he was 28 and I was 29.  He had been lobbying for me to do that since we were teenagers.  I finally painted his picture (The Tootsie Roll Cowboy) in 1997 but it was too poignant and I placed it in the treasure chest.  A few years later one of my favorite artists ever died way too young and I did a pen and ink sketch of him, but the musical watercolors eluded me so I filed it.

A few days ago I saw the lyrics and put them on the music stand.  The music leaped out of my guitar as if under pressure.  John Hartford was a beautiful person and the music had to be beautiful also…….it was, but it was familiar, so familiar that……..damn.  The music was Bobby Lee, my brother, the Tootsie Roll Cowboy.  I started reading the lyrics I had written for John and Bobby was wound around almost every one…..Pentimento.

Copyright notice: All songs and material on this page copyrighted by misipitrik and protected by copyright law and by international treaties. You may download this material only for your own personal use. If you intend to use it in any other way, please contact the artist(s).

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