This is definitely not how I expected the week to go leading up to my birthday.
As most people know, I just found out that my ex-wife Michal died very unexpectedly and tragically nearly three months ago from a brain aneurysm. My emotions have been all over the place, as it’s a very complicated situation. There are moments of sadness and compassion, and there are moments of absolute anger and frustration.
There are fences to mend – not just with my former in-laws, but with many people. 10 years ago, I would’ve been driven by “getting approval” as my focus of mending fences. Now I realize that my motivation for doing so is because it’s simply the right thing to do.
I drove up to Pennsylvania this week and showed nothing but genuine compassion to my former in-laws. For as many reasons as I have to be upset and angry, I put all of that aside. I haven’t forgotten the things that happened between and Michal, but in comparison to the pain and grief her family is going through, my hurt is very minimal in comparison. I’m not the least bit ashamed to say that my heart breaks for my daughter and Michal’s family and friends, because I know they’re all truly devastated.
I’m also burying the hatchet with Miss Vitriolic (who’s name rhymes with “Seth Cloudy”)….she indirectly apologized for her actions towards me, and stated that what was said is not a reflection of who she is. In light of what else has happened this week, I’m at peace knowing that I forgive her, even if the apology was not directly given to me. Who amongst us has not ever hurt someone else very deeply. I know I have, and I’ve learned to forgive myself. By doing so, it’s easier for me to forgive others, including “Seth.”
I’ve heard from a lot of people this week, telling me what I should do and how I should go about things in terms of my daughter. I genuinely appreciate everyone’s concern. I’m at peace with what I have decided going forward….as my focus is on her well being, I also know that she’s where she needs to be, and for me to make a sudden and shocking change in her life would not be good for anybody right now. As I’ve forgiven my ex-in-laws for the decision that had recently made regarding the communication around Michal’s passing, I hope that my family and friends can do the same.
I called this post “52”, as my 52nd birthday is Sunday. Although Jenn has been phenomenal in making this a wonderful birthday considering the circumstances, it’s going to be a bittersweet day, knowing that my daughter lost her mother. The best birthday gift I can ask for from everyone is to keep Lauryn and my ex-in-laws in your prayers. I’ve put and will continue to put my animosity in the rear view mirror.
With Jenn’s blessing, I’m going away by myself this weekend to AvalonFest, as it’s three days of live music. This was a planned trip, and I seriously thought about canceling. I need to get away for a few days….when people “run away”, it’s based on fear. I need to “go away” this weekend – to process what is happened, to enjoy the silence (except for the live music), and try to come back feeling like a better person than I do this morning. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and experienced receiving a lot of hurt in this life – lies, loss of trust, abuse…I choose to not live this way anymore, and to have a much healthier mindset. This is my birthday gift to myself.
I started to call this post “Lane Arthur Stowe, August 15, 1969 – August 15, 2021”, but I knew that everyone would freak out and misinterpret the title as a suicide letter. Trust me, that is something that I will NEVER do. I wanted to call it that because I’m hoping to “start life over” with this birthday. I’ve worked hard to get over a lot of the negativity that I have both given and received….I don’t want to be so unhappy anymore. Everybody’s lives look great on social media – I’ve used it to build this “happy persona” as a way of deflecting that I often deal with loneliness, depression and feeling inadequate. It’s time for me to “be the buffalo” – buffalos run toward thunderstorms instead of away from them….they face their issues head on.
Thank you to everyone for your love, friendship and support through this very challenging time….I’m going to do everything to ensure that my 52nd trip around the sun is brighter than ever before.
Exactly two weeks from today, I’m going to be 52 years old.
For my birthday gift to myself, I’ve made a promise to not be afraid of challenging my true capabilities, out of such a fear of failure. Whether it’s writing new lyrics again, or becoming more fluent with the software I use with my job, or to learning acceptance of generosity and no longer fearing a failure to reciprocate appropriately.
I need to be a part of the solution to bringing passion back to creating music, and not be on the sidelines complaining about how most current pop music has become more about vibration than creativity.
It’s time to remember what it was like to enjoy writing short stories when I was much younger, and tap into the creativity, curiosity and wonder that helped me to find so many unique and one-of-a kind moments in my life throughout the years.
I’ve lived with this crippling fear since that horrific event so many years ago that altered the direction of my life, and I’ve created a comfort zone where I feel that it’s OK for me to be good enough, because I’ve been afraid to dig deeper to find out how good I could truly be.
In addition to continuing to write this blog, I’m going to select 52 of my friends whom I will write one letter to each of them over the next 52 weeks. I’ve always been the guy who writes those two “make them as impactful as can be” sentences in a card, instead of writing to friends in such detail in a card where I’m trying to express my feelings and end up being all over the place. (I’ve also always been the guy to say the shortest prayer. Mom, I’m so sorry.) I hope by doing so, I develop a much deeper sense of friendship and connection with these 52 people. Some of you may be VERY surprised to hear from me! 😊
I’ve more than passed the halfway point in my life, and God willing, I’m not at the 15/16th point (assuming our lives are in not created in sixteenths, of course). How much more capable can I become in my creativity? Is this the year I TRULY try doing stand-up comedy? (Dan Madonia and Mike Levinsky, you guys are part of the 52 friends group!) Is this the year I learn how to write sentences without using so many parentheses? (Hint: I’m not there yet.)
I’m excited, and focused on not being scared. To be pleasantly surprised and to have more gratitude on this journey is all I can hope for. Maybe that “To Enjoy The View, It’s a Mighty Nice Life” song popped back into my head for a reason.
By doing this, it’ll be a core workout. (True story – I was waffling between this and “it’ll make me happy to the core.” Damnit, there’s that parentheses thing again. And admit it – you giggled when you read that last sentence. I’m funny….get used to it. 😁)
One thing I remember very well from high school…..The Honor Society. I don’t remember it from being a member – I remember it more because of the snobby, “I’m smarter than you” attitude of the members in this “elite club.”
I remember being teased about my grades not being good enough, or that my average was inflated because of my grades for being in music ensembles (hello, Mark McNulty!)…here’s the thing – if not for those “fluff grades”, I might not have gotten accepted to the Ithaca College School of Music on the spot (both vocally and instrumentally….THANK YOU, Dave Unland!), and I would not have had such tremendous opportunities as a professional musician (see Cole, Natalie).
I don’t know if things have changed since 1986, but as we are now such a fractured society in terms of race, social class, gender, and just about everything else you can think of, I can’t help but think about how these seeds of division are created based on academic performance. As we now know much more about ADD and ADHD, as well as a much better understanding about different modes of learning, who’s to say that you’re a smarter human being just because of a grade point average?
Don’t get me wrong – in no way am I trying to diminish the success or careers of those who were Honor Society members….just like the jocks, the stoners, and the band geeks, we all fell into a certain group….some groups used their athletic and/or academic prowess as cause for feeling superior….I still think about that when I’m gigging, because I wouldn’t change what I’m doing as a professional musician to be a “brainiac”.
I remember seeing a bumper sticker back in the day that said “my dog just ate your honors student” …..although “my dog just shit all over your honors student” is funnier, I can only imagine the death stares I’d get from other drivers if I had that bumper sticker on my car.
To anyone who ever felt slighted or teased because of your grades – keep your chin up….WAY UP…we all have our unique gifts, and God knows we live in a world now where compassion and respect are far more important than just getting good grades.
I’d love to say that I’m quoting a famous actor or entertainer with this quote, but truth be told, I was almost 100% sure that these were the lyrics from an R&B song I have not heard (and lyrics I obviously don’t remember) since 1983.
And that’s my new musical challenge….trying to find a 38-year-old obscure song of which I don’t remember the lyrics. For my friends who grew up with me in Woodstock – it was in a steady rotation on WDST in the mornings….yes, the odds are snowball-in-Hell, but I’m determined to find this song if it kills me….I loved the bouncy groove of this song, and I especially loved the chorus. I remember that the singer sounded a little bit like Irene Cara, but I’ve gone through her entire album catalog with no luck.
I’m hopeful that someone is familiar with this song, and that my description is enough to match it up. The last time I was on a quest like this was 2003, when I was trying to find D Train’s “You’re The One For Me” (thank you Ken Wine, for helping me find that!), so I hope to have the same success.
Although I’m not losing sleep over this, I know that when I do find it, I’ll have an incredible nostalgic flashback when I listen to it for the very first time.
1. My awesome wife, who is not a nudist but supports me 1000% in my love of the clothing-optional lifestyle.
2. That I’m getting the “Pastry Chef” award tomorrow, for getting through the week without burning my buns.
3. My family and friends who totally understand where I am this week, and the reason why I’ve been doing this for 26 YEARS.
4. My friends and family who totally do not understand where I am this week, and the reason why I’ve been doing this for 26 years. Just remember, I’m living MY best life, not yours.
5. The fantastic folks here at Cypress Cove…this truly is a community of acceptance, and it’s a community with a LOT of Upstate New Yorkers! Bonus!
6. The Mango Frozen Margarita industry….you will never go out of business….I’ll make sure of that.
7. The underrated bass playing of Darryl Dragon (the Captain in Captain & Tennille). It’s unfortunate that there isn’t a recording of C & T’s “The Way That I Want to Touch You” with the bass line isolated. He does some really impressive stuff on this tune. It’s been in my music rotation this week.
8. Laughter – if I had a dollar for every time I’ve laughed or giggled at the thought of my friends’ spectrum of reactions to my vacation destination this week, I’d almost have enough money to buy my RV….which would look perfect under one of these incredibly beautiful palm trees…😎☀️🌴
Even though your farm was about 90 minutes from the town of which the rock festival was named, it created an event that is still revered and cherished almost 52 years later.
I’m writing this post from my brother’s house in Woodstock, where my niece Claire graciously let me have her room as my guest room for the past two nights. In some ways, this feels very “full circle”, as I remember thinking about many memories of hanging out in Woodstock the same way I did as a teenager 35 years ago.
Because of a couple of floating holidays I needed to use at work, I decided to drive up to Woodstock on Thursday. As I had not been here since 2018, I knew I’d get the chance to catch up with my family and a lot of great friends, but I knew I’d get to do something very near and dear to me….I got to hang out on the Woodstock Village Green, and listen to Todd Rundgren’s “Something/Anything?” album….this was a ritual I started back in 1991, after I’d graduated and moved back home from Ithaca, but was struggling to find a job (thank you, recession) and face the world as an adult. I could come here, put on my Walkman, and enjoy a few moments of inner peace. And when I was going through my separation and divorce 11 years ago, this was somewhere I felt I could come to put on my headphones and gather my thoughts.
Yesterday was a perfect afternoon to sit there and enjoy the sunshine (in the afternoon) and feel very thankful for the love I felt these last two days. I’ve spent quality time with my brother Lee, my sister-in-law Margaret and my nieces Rose and Claire, and I got to see very close friends like Sean Tarleton, Paul Rakov, Bobby Weiss and Maureen Swingle. I’ve reconnected with former work colleagues, and I even did my part to support the local clothing stores, trust me!
The original Woodstock was about love, peace and music. After the incredible turbulence of the year 2020, it’s nice to not only see these three things starting to reappear in our society, but I got to come up here to see and feel them in the place where I grew up. Listening to Todd Rundgren’s “Hello, It’s Me”, my favorite lyric in the song is “It’s important to me that you know you are free. ‘Cause I never want to make you change for me.” I’ve spent many years meditating on those words, and yesterday this brought me a tremendous feeling of peace, as I know have have the love of my family and friends.
This is what I call “The Woodstock Effect.” And it’s pretty groovy, man. ☮️💟🎶
There’s a big difference between the person on the left and the person on the right in the picture above….and it’s not just the hair.
The picture on the left is me in 1986. Insecure, unhappy, not knowing I was suffering from depression, and suppressing a traumatic experience that I didn’t realize was already consuming me. Behind a layer of arrogance and anger was a person who felt he was not good enough at anything – music, school or friendships.
I was living in other people’s shadows, both dead and alive….my father, my brother and Allen Roosa, a music student in my high school who died tragically in 1979 during his senior year. He then was considered the “gold standard” of all music students in our school district going forward, as a music award was created in his honor.
There are days when I can’t believe I didn’t truly try to take my own life during these years. I remember the night of my graduation in 1987 as the time I came closest to doing it. As I spent my last year of high school at a junior college, I had no desire to go to my high school graduation to feel judged one more time. As my peer received the Roosa award along with a slew of other awards I was given the equivalent of a “seventh place trophy” award that night, I would rather have not gotten any fucking awards that night, and that was a moment that pushed me over the edge, as my dad made me go to graduation because of how it would make him look if I didn’t. I heard one classmate crack a joke at my expense as awards were being presented. I felt no self-worth, and felt beyond numb. I just wanted to walk out, get in my car, drive to the Rhinecliff Bridge and just be DONE.
Instead, I just went to the movies by myself, where I felt I could just “vanish”. After years of being picked on and being looked at as not good enough, self-value was not part of my vocabulary. I now post this senior picture for fun – part of that was to create a new narrative for that picture compared to the negative one that had been in my head for years.
I’m thankful for my years of therapy, and I’m not the least bit ashamed or embarrassed to say that I suffer from depression, that I’m on medication for it, and that some days there are triggers that still can bring me down. After years of making mistakes and finally facing my demons, I’ve learned (I’m still learning) the importance of self-worth. Although I appreciate compliments about my musical ability, I still hear the voices of my critics (my dad, my high school chorus teacher) who loved to bring up my “deficiencies”. I don’t play piano – I’ve always felt like I’m not a good musician because of this, as this has been thrown in my face more times than I care to remember. (It’s also the reason why I now have no desire to learn).
Doing the photo shoots with Uptown Vocal Jazz Quartet was a lot of fun….I look at the picture on the right very differently than the one on the left, because the picture on the right represents a lot of hard work. That smile comes after a lot of years of darkness. At 51, I finally feel the confidence that I wish I had when I was younger. I’ve still had people try to knock me down – from my ex-wife to Miss Vitriolic 2019, who took every possible shot that she could – where I would have felt like a failure about what was said, I know know I can consider the source with those types of comments…and besides, why give that much power to a self-righteous douchebag, or an incredibly racist asshole? (Or a “Karen”, as the kids say these days.)
These pictures represent two very different people, even though they are one in the same. I’m glad I’m still here for the journey, and I can look back at my life with a lot less shame and guilt. Although there are still days where the struggle is real, I just try to be as positive as I can be each and every day.
One of the hardest doses of reality is when your childhood heroes are not who you always thought they’d be. After O.J. Simpson, I never thought I’d have such another major disappointment. This week felt like an all-time low, based on a “legal technicality.”
Like millions of Americans, I used to hold Bill Cosby in the highest regard. From watching him on The Electric Company as a small child, to growing up watching Fat Albert, to seeing every episode of The Cosby Show. He truly showed us he reality of an upper-class African-American family with the Huxtables, and you could not have found a better pitchman for advertising your product.
As shocked and appalled as I was when he was found guilty of rape, I found myself very angry not just at the court’s decision to overturn his conviction, but also outraged at his arrogance about being released from prison. They did not find another person who was truly responsible for these crimes….this was overturned because of a technicality.
The fact that he’s saying he’s innocent and wanting to tour again repulses me. Why would anyone give him another dime? And his spokesperson Andrew Wyatt? This guy takes being an asshole to a whole new level…saying that the overturned conviction is “a great day for women everywhere?” How dare he use this as an opportunity to do nothing but take a cheap shot at the accusers? I’m also very disappointed in Phylicia Rashad’s comment that “a wrong has been righted.” I get her loyalty from their years of working together, but this was not an overturned traffic ticket. These comments are beyond insensitive.
As much as I’m angered by all of this, I still feel heartbroken when reconciling the Bill Cosby of my childhood compared to the Bill Cosby of this week. I don’t watch The Cosby Show the way I used to, as I doesn’t feel right anymore, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
It truly hurts to see a childhood idol become something far beyond what I ever thought they could become. As much as Bill Cosby has fallen from his status as “America’s Dad”, I wish he would just fade into oblivion, and not try to get back up.
I found out that one of my best friends from high school passed away this week. He wasn’t just a best friend – he was also the person with whom I played my very first “professional” gig 36 years ago.
Stacey Waterous and I became friends when we were in high school jazz band together. He played lead tenor sax and I played lead trombone. Although I was the epitome of a “band geek”, I started to hang out with Stacey, who brought me into the fold with some of the “cooler” musicians who had their own bands, like Jonathan Sanborn. This was the beginning of when I started to consider the idea of becoming a professional musician, and my friendship with Stacey helped to lay that foundation.
The following year, Stacey and I formed a band with our friends Sean Tarleton (our bassist, who was in our high school for his senior year), Ray Kim (keyboards), George Matthews (drums) and Eric Kirk (percussion). Our big event was the high school talent show in February 1985. We knew the other bands would be playing rock and heavy metal, but we were playing jazz fusion (Spyro Gyra and Weather Report). I had turned Stacey on to the music of Stanley Turrentine, and “Blue Hour” was one of his classic albums. We made our name “Black Hour” (a name my dad hated because of the racial implications), as we thought it sounded “goth” enough that we’d surprise the audience with incredibly different music…..and it worked. With Jonathan Sanborn sitting in on percussion, we played Spyro Gyra’s “Carnaval” and Weather Report’s classic tune “Birdland”. Stacey and I played lead instruments, and we nailed our solos. I still remember every moment of that performance, as it was the first time I played in a band in front of my peers.
The next month, we played our first professional “paid gig” (chicken wings and soda!) at Levon Helm’s restaurant in Saugerties, right outside of Woodstock. My mom drove me to the gig, and I remember how cool it felt to be on the stage for the very first time, playing to a very receptive and supportive audience. Here we were, these teenage kids playing music, not knowing that we’d be doing this for years to come.
Stacey had a shitty 1975(?) Dodge Duster….shitty is too kind a word for this car – it was baby blue, seriously rusted, and none of the dashboard lights worked. I’ll be damned if we didn’t love riding around in that car. We nicknamed it “The Loadster”, because we used to load our gear into the trunk, and also because that car was truly a load of crap! I have a lot of fond memories of listening to a lot of great music while riding around in that car!
The following year, both Stacey and I started playing electric bass, and we formed a new band called Palladium. We again played the high school talent show with a different lineup of musicians: Jeremy Baum (keyboards – he’s a brilliant jazz organist up in New York), Eric Kelsey (guitar), Eric Kirk on drums, and Stacey and I switched off on playing bass and lead horns. We opened with David Sanborn’s tune “Butterfat”….I remember being so excited/nervous before the curtain opened that both my hands were shaking while holding my bass. Stacey came out and once he played the intro, we were locked in. I switched to lead horn on the next tune, and we closed with a Jimmy Smith tune with Stacey playing tenor sax. I vividly remember Eric Kelsey’s rhythm guitar playing, as it was incredibly smooth…a month later, we performed at the Woodstock Homemade Jam concert (my brother Lee filled in for Jeremy that day), and we played right before legendary jazz drummer Jack DeJohnette and his group. I remember looking off to the side of the stage and seeing Jack bobbing his head along as we were playing Butterfat….that was AWESOME!
I didn’t see Stacey much after high school…I bumped into him a few times with Jonathan in NYC, and a time or two when I was back in Woodstock. The last time I saw him was right before Christmas a few years ago. I knew he was still playing sax, and all was well. I reconnected with him on social media, and was delighted to hear that he and Sean had played some gigs together.
I found out about his passing yesterday afternoon, and it stopped me in my tracks. I was on my way to meet someone about some upcoming musical opportunities, and I asked if we could reschedule. I started thinking about how much it would have meant to me to see him again…..he had a laugh like no other. There was always talk of us all getting back together to play some of our old tunes, and now that won’t come to fruition. I drove back home last night while listening to Butterfat over and over.
Rest In Peace, Stacey William Waterous….you’re already so incredibly missed, and for you, the band will play on.