Human - Mike Vitale (Original)

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This is a song I wrote about us and for us: human beings. I have an extensive track record of being very hard on myself—as well as continuously beating myself up for mistakes that I have made in the past. As much as we all know we are fallible creatures, that doesn’t stop us from judging one another, and worst of all, judging ourselves. My desire is for this song to be a reminder that we are all trying the best we can—to try to keep that in mind—to see yourself in others so that you may understand that we are all in this together. Maybe it’s somewhat like that Bill Hicks quote: “[...] we are all one consciousness experiencing ourselves subjectively [...] Life is a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves.” He was a standup comedian, and isn’t it funny that they are the ones spouting some of the most pertinent, astute, and (sometimes) poignant observational truth. A quick thank you to everyone supporting my original music on Patreon: this is my latest offer for $1 backers. A special thanks to Amy Armitage and Fernando Gallegos.

Human
words and music by Mike VItale

People are a walking contradiction
Placing one foot in front of the other
And me I had no idea that i could walk this way
So I learned it from my father and my mother

People here are doing the best they can
Based on whatever their parents already covered
And I’m doing my best to do my best myself these days
So together let’s see what we discover

Because truth be told everyone tells a lie
And honesty can be delicately laid
Language was created to understand one another
So I choose my words carefully to say

We’re Human

Take it easy if you’re feeling down
Everyone trips from time to time
It’s a forgone conclusion to maintain the resolution
That you’re a perfect circle or a perfect line

Because truth be told everyone tells a lie
And honesty can be delicately laid
Language was created to understand one another
So I choose my words carefully to say

We’re Human
We’re Human

So go on and be mean if that’s what you’re feeling
Or maybe decided to turn the other cheek
Have a sense of humor, or maybe spread a rumor
We get back what we put into this world

Because truth be told everyone tells a lie
And honesty can be delicately laid
Language was created to understand one another
So I choose my words carefully to say

We’re Human
We’re Human
We’re Human

DUSTIN LOVELIS | Dimensions | "Idiot"

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After having written that last entry Tao Te Ching and sharing Madison Cunningham with you in previous weeks, I got to thinking: I don't talk enough about all of the local music around me I admire and love. I think I will continue to write these and share, and just coin them GOOD MUSIC.

There is so much excellent art happening on the local level. There is too much—too much that goes unnoticed. It's criminal.

We all know this in our bones. We are avid supporters of local art that resonates with us.

As some of you know, I spent 5 years living in Long Beach, and I found several wonderful acts there that I cherish (and I will be sharing all of them with you): Dustin Lovelis is one of them.

He is such a unique amalgamation of influences. There is this inescapable retro quality to his music that I admire as well—you feel comfortable in it, like your favorite t-shirt, a t-shirt that is new to you, but you just bought it from a curated second hand store for $67 and you're completely comfortable with that decision because it was love at first sight—and remember? It's comfortable as all fuck.

Most of all, I resonate with the deep honesty of his music.

However you want to describe it, there is a gravity that carries the will to bring one to tears given the right opportunity: such as someone just breaking your heart, or you yourself making a mistake you regret. Dustin is providing the soundtrack for you in those times by sharing his own personal experiences—perhaps—at least in my own imagination, that is the way I interpret it.

You can find Dustin and his music on all of the streaming services, but naturally, you can truly support his work by making a purchase, like I did, here:

https://porchpartyrecords.bandcamp.com/album/dimensions

If you are interested in finding him online you may do so here:

Facebook

Instagram

I hope you enjoy the song I posted of his, up yonder. It is entitled "Idiot."

You can also learn more about him through the all powerful Google Search Engine. If you are local to southern California, catch a show of his soon. He would be full of gratitude, and you yourself will be floored by his sheer talent.

- Mike

Tao Te Ching

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I remember being around 20 years old, in the town I grew up in: Visalia, CA.  It's not a very big place.  It's not very small either.  It's between those two things: small enough for rumors to bother you and big enough for it to take 25 minutes to get from one end to the other—I'm sure information was faster than the car there, even before the advent of the internet.

I fell in love for the first time in Visalia.  It was love at first sight for me—but ended up not working out.  I think back on it, and I know all the places where I made errors.  This is important to me, because I feel I have room to learn from my mistakes.  Lauren is happily married now and has children, and I am thrilled for her, deeply and truly.  She is a good person.

What's really painful is making mistakes and realizing you have made them shortly after making them.  This was the case between Lauren and I.  However, we are not defined by another person.  

While we may be defined by our decisions, partially—ultimately, I feel that we just are.  We exist I mean.  Nothing beyond that.  To put it a better way, we all come in and out of each others lives, changing one another, so that we may continue on: all the additional perceptions attached to it, are human notions.  

If we look at ourselves as purely animals, we just exist, accumulating life experience in the form of memories.  We own our past.  It is involuntary in so much as it pertains to it being deposited in the banks of chaos that are our minds.  Beyond that, we can chose to own it as a verb, which is more along the lines of accepting it, and not perceiving it as a burden.  Perhaps like cargo floating on a rive in tandem with us: effortless.

I am fascinated by the thought of how much more malleable I was in my younger years.  I could love, fall out of love, and love again rather quickly.  If I were to be honest with myself, I have become far more guarded with my heart over the years.

19 year-old me fell in and out of love with Lauren, was at the forefront of his love of music, had parents who did not encourage the pursuit of music as a career, so he felt as if he needed to find his own footing and encouragement in other places—even if that was just in the daydreams of his own head.

He worked two jobs: one during the day and one during the night.  He practiced guitar in between.  He kept trying to write songs, but found it extremely difficult to like what he wrote—to genuinely love what was being made by his own creativity.

The first song I ever tried to write was about a young girl who tried to commit suicide off of a freeway overpass.  It was a good song—I couldn't see that though, at the time.  So I hid it away, and never shared it.

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I remember discovering Dave Matthews Band for the first time, and learning all of his songs.  I remember meeting a young girl named Robin that same summer.  We loved each other in a window of time, before she moved away.  In that window of time, I began reading a book that I very much enjoyed called " The Tao of Pooh".  I was 20 years old.

It was a very beautiful interpretation of Taoism, in so far as Winnie the Pooh being a prime example of an individual who lives the Tao.  I gave it to Robin when she moved to San Jose, along with a few Calvin and Hobbs comic strip books.

In hindsight, I was more malleable in those days—which isn't to say that I am not that way now—I'm just beginning to wonder if I was living more "the way" at that time, than I am now.  

Robin was no possession to me.  She enriched my life.  Hopefully, I enriched hers as well.  We keep contact with one another, and I am friends with her whole family.  I love them all dearly.

I continued to play guitar.  I was also very fascinated with Chess.  I played a gentleman named Jason McKaughan at his house in downtown Visalia.  He was an amazing musician himself.  He was also studying philosophy at California State University Fresno.  We would play chess together.  He would introduce me to movies and new music that I had never heard of such as Michael Hedges or Charlie Hunter or "The Matrix" or "Deconstructing Harry"—to be honest they are too numerous to name.  

I began to learn how to play Michael Hedges and became obsessed with him, much as I did Eric Clapton and Stevie Ray Vaughan before that.  However, I remember showing up to his house to play chess on one day in particular and he had something fun to share with me.

He popped on a song called "Comfortable".  He asked me to name who it was.  I listened.  "Comfortable" displayed amazing songwriting.  The lyrics were incredible.  His voice had a masculine baritone quality that was very beautiful and entrancing to listen to.  I listened the whole way through without saying a word.  

When the song was completed, I said "Jacob Dylan?"  I knew this wasn't the answer, but it was the closest thing I could think of that matched the timber of his voice.  His answer was, "this is Matt Mangano's roommate at Berklee School of Music.  His name is John Mayer."  I was hooked.

Matt Mangano was also a Visalia native who had just moved to Boston to attend Berklee School of Music.  He was there to study recording and sound engineering.  He recorded John in the dorm room they shared together.  The recordings I was listening to, were those recordings.  Matt brought them back with him on summer break and told Jason, this is my roommate John Mayer.  Remember his name.  He's going to be a big star.  Jason was skeptical that this was the case, but there was no denying his talent.

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He shared numerous stories with me regarding Matt and John.  I began to follow John on my parents old AOL dial up computer.  The World Wide Web had just started.  John was present on a website he created at johnmayer.com and posted music he wrote to another website called MP3.com.  He had left Berklee School of Music after one year there, and moved down to Georgia.  I enthusiastically watched and supported his very quick rise to fame.

There were no crowd sourcing platforms at this time.  This was all between the years of 1999-2000.  Jason McKaughan would go and visit Matt and John at their place in Atlanta, Georgia.  John took Jason out to go sight seeing around the South, historical landmarks and so forth.  He brought back stories.  They were fun to listen to.  I shared John's music with people I thought would like it.

When he started to be able to afford to tour, I went out and supported his first tour solo acoustic.  He opened for Glen Phillips from Toad the Wet Sprocket.  He played a wonderful set over a bunch of people screaming over the top of his music, talking loudly, waiting for Glen to take the stage.  He didn't appear bothered by it, but having been there myself, I'm sure it was no fun to have only a quarter of the room listening to you.

Shortly there after, he was signed to Aware Records, which is what that CD up yonder is.  He went on tour with a band.  I caught him three times during that tour.  Once in San Francisco, once in Los Angeles at The Roxy, and lastly at The Coach House in San Juan Capistrano.  He came out after every show and would chat with all of us that attended.  John is a very funny guy, and was always a pleasure to talk to.  I emailed him once to ask him how to play one of his songs, and he was kind enough to provide the info I was after.

I look back on my life, and I see that around the years of 19 to 21 is when I woke up to art and how much I loved it.  I have tried to avidly support local and independent music as I find it.  I suppose John was the first musician to not be spoon fed to me by a major label?  I had never thought of this before in plain terms, but I suppose that is the truth.

My whole life, I have been living the way.  I am sure you can say the same.  That's what "Tao" translates to: "The Way."  We are all living the mystery is what I mean.  Allow me to explain myself a little better—I don't want this to be a Chinese Finger Trap.

I started reading "Change You Thoughts, Change Your Life" by Wayne Dyer.  In a nut shell, it is the "Tao Te Ching" by Lao Tzu, but with his interpretation of each concise chapter of "Tao Te Ching" which often reads a bit like poetry.  I'll give you an example:

第一章

道可道

非常道

名可名

非常名

無名天地之始

有名萬物之母

故常無欲

以觀其妙

常有欲

以觀其徼

此兩者

同出而異名

同謂之玄

玄之又玄

眾妙之門


Pretty interesting, right?  I kid.


Chapter 1

The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao

The name that can be named is not the eternal name

The nameless is the origin of Heaven and Earth

The named is the mother of myriad things

Thus, constantly with

out desire, one observes its essence

Constantly with desire, one observes its manifestations

These two emerge together but differ in name

The unity is said to be the mystery

Mystery of mysteries, the door to all wonders


OR alternately it could be translated to this, as we are working from Chinese characters that are no longer in use.  This alone is fascinating to me as language allows for so many different interpretations, especially when it has been translated from a translation.  This text is nearly 2,500 years old.  As far as I know, these both have been translated directly from the original Chinese characters listed above.


The Tao that can be told

is not the eternal Tao.

The name that can be named

is not the eternal name.


The Tao is both named and nameless.

As nameless it is the origin of all things;

as named it is the mother of 10,000 things.


Ever desire less, one can see the mystery;

ever desiring, one sees only the manifestations.

And the mystery itself is the doorway

to all understanding.


This is paradoxical thinking—and very thick.  It has the viscosity of maple syrup.  Yet, it is also simple.  We just are.  That is Tao, yet by my reducing things in simplicity of those words of explanation to you, another human being, that is not Tao.  But I digress.  This is what I was getting at in the words of Wayne Dyer:

.".. enjoy the mystery."

"Let the world unfold without always trying to figure it all out.  Let relationships just be, for example, since everything is just going to stretch out in Divine Order.  Don't try so hard to make something work—simply allow.  Don't always toil at trying to understand your mate, your children, your parents, your boss, or anyone else, because the Tao is working at all times.  When expectations are shattered, practicing allowing that to be the way it is.  Relax, let go, allow, and recognize that some of your desires are about how you think your world should be, rather than how it is in the moment.  Become an astute observer... judge less and listen more.  Take time to open your mind to the fascinating mystery and uncertainty that we all experience."

"Practice letting go of always naming and labeling."

There are many things to be interpreted from these very concise lines from the first chapter of "Tao Te Ching."  Similarly, there are many things to be interpreted from a lifetime already lived.  Beyond that, is living.  It's the present moment.  

I've enjoyed sharing a bit of my past with you.  I've also enjoyed thinking back to a version of myself that is 20 years old.  I find it fascinating that I have ran along a twenty year cycle, a continuum, in which it has begun with me reading an interpretation of Tao Te Ching (but with Winnie the Pooh bonus round), and led me back to me reading an interpretation once again, and me arriving at my own paradoxical understanding.  In the process of writing that last sentence, I also just realized that putting exclamation points on things can be construed as shouting.  However, most of the time, it just means enthusiasm, nowadays.

What a mystery!

- Mike

A One Dollar Bill

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I acquired a one-dollar bill the other day. Well, sort of.

To be anal retentive (precise—however you want to boil it down) it was three-quarters of a dollar bill.

What the hell happened to it? I don't know... but now I have it.

No worries, I have some laundry to do; I’ll just use it to purchase some quarters, and there you go: problem solved.

Wait a second—this is a problem. How does that work? Is that three-quarters of a dollar bill still worth one dollar? What's the mysteriously missing one quarter worth?  

I mean, if you want to get down to brass tacks: neither side of this torn bill of currency, is worth a damn thing. A fresh, unused one dollar bill is worth nothing. It's a fancy piece of cotton and paper that represents currency backed up by gold (which unfortunately isn’t the case, either, now; gold no longer backs up our currency). Money, or currency if you prefer, is the largest mutual make-believe game that we, as adults, play on a daily basis. We pretend money is worth something, with each other... and quite frankly, we really go balls deep when it comes to how hard we play this game, and how deeply we subscribe to this notion—so much so, that it’s no longer a game. As a continued thought experiment, how many of you would do this with a large pile of money?

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I wouldn't.

We are born and raised into a society that plays make believe about a lot of things. Off the top of my head, land property is another, but we can save that for another day. Let's just all agree that money is fictitious—or not. I’d prefer you decide that on your own.  Either way though, currency is used as a representation of natural resource, which by extension, is rare, and is henceforth, valuable.

But we all don't know whether or not we like to pretend about this. We just do.

We buy things with it. I mean, here I am with three-quarters of a dollar bill, at a quarter machine at the laundromat, trying to buy four quarters with three quarters of a dollar bill—and you know what? The machine is not fooled. It won't take the three-quarter dollar bill.  It just keeps spitting it back out at me. I don't blame the machine. It has one job, and it does it well.

I realize that I am left with few recourse, and that perhaps I must do what was done before, if I were to continue the journey of this three-quarter dollar bill: I must give it to someone else. Whether it be used as tender in a transaction, or by simply giving the partial bill of tender as a gift to someone else. I mean, I could burn it, but that sounds silly for some reason.

So I do the former. I move its journey forward throughout the world. I am no longer concerned with the ramifications mentioned previously, or all the over-thinking I just did moments ago (as much fun as that is for me—deeply and truly). Instead, my curiosity lingers on where it will end up next, and where it has been. All the people it has touched. How it came to be as it is. Where it will go. How it will be used. Sure, it's not a complete one dollar bill. Maybe it's the perfect representation of me, or you: a human being.

Incomplete.

Worth something.

Just moving our way through the world the best we can.

Touching as many people as we can.

Trying to be helpful.

Until we are of no further use.

Perhaps we are all three-quarters of a dollar bill.

And our worth? It's left to our own imagination.


- Mike




Happiness and Vacuum Cleaners

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Vacuum cleaners:  How can you not like them?  They're even spelled in a sexy way.  Two "u"'s! Why?  Who cares?  It's just boss that it has two u's in the name: one for you and one for me.

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I'll tell you what, I like them even more once I got a cat.  Aside from waking me up at 6am in the morning for no good reason (playing with my face)—her second favorite thing to do is litter my floor, furniture, curtains, ceiling (not sure how that works), couch, studio desk, with her hair.  

Yes, I brush her.  It doesn't help. 

I am as excited about this vacuum cleaner, as I was about receiving Optimus Prime for Christmas from my parents when I was seven years old.  It's even red like Optimums Prime.  Can't you see the resemblance?  It's uncanny (use you imagination; the picture is in black and white, people).

For what Optimus Prime lacks in suck, this vacuum cleaner makes up for.  It's a Dirt Devil.  It's got Reach, and not just by manufacturer name.  It could play pro ball, but doesn't want to because it's an inanimate object—that is unless I'm pushing it around, ridding my floor of the bane of my existence: cat hair.  It reaches under my couch (sort of).

It has attachments.

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It has wheels, just like Optimus.  It's fucking cool.  That's what I'm trying to say.

Okay, yeah I know.  I'm officially old.  I am excited about a vacuum cleaner.  More to the point, I'm excited that my socks are not riddled with feline reminders of her hard work and effort spreading herself about the house.  It's a full-time job for my cat.

My other option was to shave my cat, but that would be ridiculous... or would it?

Stay tuned.

- Mike

Re-Uploading "Latchkey Kid" for NPR's TINY DESK CONCERT SERIES

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Hey Everyone,

So, quickly: I had to resubmit my video for the Tiny Desk Concert Series because I upload it a few days before the March 12th start date, and they said that would disqualify the video.  

At any rate, if you could give the video some love, that would be greatly appreciated.  I had 31 likes on the last upload and a lot of comments and that was really neat, but I lost all that positivity because I have re-upload the video.  Here is what NPR wrote me today.  It was very nice of them to do this, and to not just disqualify the video I submitted:

Hi there,

My name is Marissa, and I work on the Tiny Desk Contest. I wanted to get in touch about a small problem we had with your Tiny Desk Contest entry.

While your video did follow most of our Official Rules – being under 10 minutes, showing an original song, featuring a desk (thanks!) – it looks like it didn’t meet one requirement for eligibility: being uploaded to YouTube after March 12, 2019.

The reason we have this “After March 12” rule is to make sure that people are sending us videos that are made specifically for this Contest – to ensure that, we check that videos were uploaded after we announced this year’s Contest.

However, I know that we hinted at the Contest coming back for 2019 a couple times on our site, in our newsletter and on social media over the past few months – and I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt and imagine that you filmed and uploaded your video in anticipation of the official announcement. If that’s the case, and you’d still like your video to be considered for the 2019 Contest, please consider re-uploading your video and resubmitting. Otherwise, we’ll have to consider your entry ineligible. Please note that we don’t usually allow this kind of resubmission – but this feels like a special situation.

Let me know if you have any questions or any problems with submitting.

Best, Marissa & the Tiny Desk Contest team

At any rate, that link above is for the brand new upload I just did.  I would be honored to have you show it some love if you have the inclination of the time!  It would mean a lot to me. 

Hope you all are having a great day!

Mike

Honesty

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Honesty: now that is an interesting subject. I have a line in a song I wrote that says this: "Truth be told, everyone tells a lie—and honesty can be delicately laid"—and I do believe that.

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Whether I like it or not, I am an extremely honest person when it comes to how I display my feelings. I had a girlfriend once who told me that I wear my emotions on my sleeve—and I think she's right; I don't hide my feelings well. However, I have learned over the years that people respond to honesty in a variety of ways, most of which, are not always favorable. It's like ping pong. Let me explain.

I've spent a fair amount of time volleying honesty in a game of table tennis with friends, family, and acquaintances. I would try lobbing the ball over the net in order to give them the opportunity to play nicely as well, only to be returned with a hit to the chest from the thrust of a one thousand pound gorilla.

I've also had people key into my extension of goodwill, and return the ball with an equal amount of intensity in order to keep the conversation moving. There have been times when I have been the show-off, serving like an Olympic competitor, only to be remember afterwards that the person on the other side of the table is a little boy or girl who is barely learning to hold the mallet (let us not be mistaken though, little ones can still thrust a mean serve with little to no effort exerted).

And on and on and on I go through the various permutations of opportunities, successes, and losses at the hands of how either I or the other person at the end of the net, start the game.

Most often, I push the ping pong table against the wall and try to play. Regardless of how hard I serve, or how softly I nudge the ball forward to start the game, it rarely makes it back over the net, because invariably, I am keeping my honesty to myself—and there is no forward momentum to life and learning under those circumstances.

However, what I have had a great deal of success with is removing the net, folding the ping pong table in half to create a 90 degree angle, and playing at whatever intensity I feel fit: after all, being honest with yourself makes all the difference in the world.

Fred Smoot

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In all honesty, today has been a bit of a rough day for me. I just got done playing a memorial service for this man.

Fred Smoot

Fred Smoot

His name is Fred Smoot.

He was a standup comedian and a photographer. He was part of the associated press that took many of the photos you may have seen regarding Vietnam, specifically the Tet Offensive.

However, Fred would have preferred to have been remembered as a standup comedian—and that he was. He was a guest on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson seven times; this was a drop in the bucket compared to all the other notable appearances he made as an entertainer on numerour late night and daytime television programs in the 1960’s and 1970’s. He shared the stage with many, including: Johnny Carson, Neil Diamond, Merv Griffin, Steve Allen, The Everly Brothers, Count Basie, Paul McCartney's WINGS, Bob Dylan, Linda Ronstadt, Olivia Newton John, Ella Fitzgerald, Chicago, Fleetwood Mac, Dave Brubeck Quartet, Gordon Lightfoot, 5th Dimension, Count Basie and his Band, Mamas & the Papas, Mac Davis, Bobby Darin, and Trini Lopez.

I listened to all of his friends recounting stories regarding his life and all the joy and laughter he brought to them; it was palpable—if not contagious. We can all be so lucky, to be remembered so fondly, and to be the one bringing the joy and smiles to others.

One of his friends stated that there is a star in the sky that she chose for him. She has named the star after him. Ironically, that star is in the Canis Minor Constellation (this was not a conscious decision). It’s a small constellation in the northern celestial hemisphere, and it’s name means the lesser dog, or the more specific title, the underdog.

Fred died as a rich and wealthy man. While he was not someone who possessed a large monetary fortune—I mean, he lived in spare bedrooms from the kindness of others, he ate the food that friends provided to him, and lived in his car with no possessions—he was a billionaire in terms of the friendships and laughter he brought to everyone in that room today. I could feel it, and I cried—and I have never met him in person.

Fred had dementia. Quite literally, he was a man with a shrinking brain. For those of you that may wonder, yes, “The Incredible Shrinking Brain” was partially inspired by Fred—however he deserves his own song—I’m working on it.

In the meanwhile, Fred, this poem is for you. It is by one of my favorite poets, Robert Frost:

Canis Major

The great Overdog 
That heavenly beast 
With a star in one eye 
Gives a leap in the east. 

He dances upright 
All the way to the west 
And never once drops 
On his forefeet to rest. 

I'm a poor underdog, 
But to-night I will bark 
With the great Overdog 
That romps through the dark.

You brought everyone in your life so much joy and laughter, Fred—and to me, you brought tears, and for this, I thank you. God bless you. You are loved.

WHO IS MIKE VITALE?

I am a storyteller, singer, songwriter, music producer, traveling musician, Jungian dream analyst, all-around curious fellow (Spiritual, Mathematical Historical, Scientific), Taoist, and much much more, based out of Los Angeles, California. I’m constantly releasing new music, in all sorts of different genres. You can listen to me below, on Spotify:

SOCIAL LINKS

UPCOMING SHOWS

My First Music Placement and Homelessness

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Hopefully, this is something that I won’t forget. It took me 39 years, but I finally had a piece of music picked for use in either a tv show, or a movie (forgive me for not knowing which it is). It’s an independent production called “House Broken.”

From what I am told, they are in the post production side of things, but I have been paid a synchronization fee for the song, so, it’s a done deal in terms of their interest in using the tune. They are pitching it to festivals and networks as soon as they complete the project.

Naturally, my hope is that anyone who works hard on their creative project, finds success with it.

It’s a project that deals with the subject of homelessness. The main character is based off of a real life person by the name of Fred Smoot. Fred was a stand up comedian in the 70’s who found success in his career and made several appearances on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. This was a big deal for standup comedians in the 70’s.

Later in life, Fred developed dementia and eventually became homeless, living out of his car with his dog. He became a man of few possessions. Literally, he had a trophy, his car, and his puppy.

Fred’s circumstances are far from unusual. A friend of mine and I were watching a documentary called “Lost Angels: Skid Row is My Home” that came out in 2010, regarding Skid Row and it’s homeless population. Many of the people that call downtown LA their home, have preexisting mental conditions—Manic Depression, Schizophrenia, and dementia being several of many.

“House Broken” will be a project that addresses the homeless crisis we see here in Southern California. I see it in my own neighborhood of Eagle Rock. If you are a Los Angeles or Orange County resident, I am sure you do as well.

The song that is being used is my most recent. It’s called “The Incredible Shrinking Brain.”

Here is a private link to check it out if you feel so inclined:

The Incredible Shrinking Brain

words and music by Mike Vitale

I feel like a mime with a painted on sad face touching an invisible wall

And it’s a crime I can’t see this behind my shit talk fueled by jealousy and alcohol

Sure, I’m overly critical, but by now I should know better

Maybe I’m just too hard on myself and it doesn’t really matter

The longer I live the less I know for sure

When I was a younger man my certainty was premature

There’s all these abstract explanations I could conjure up in vain

But I’m the man with the incredible shrinking brain

Do you feel like an actor dressed up in black face

We’re really just canaries in a coal mine

Carried out the shaft like a suitcase, soot trace, smeared across our face and brow

The war on race, preference, sex, and creed are indelible

and noxious as the fumes

And right before we lose our consciousness collective conscience looms

The longer we live the less we know for sure

When we were a younger brood our certainty was premature

There’s all these explanations we could conjure up in vain

But we’re people with incredible shrinking brains

Our incredible shrinking brains

Create the fertile furrows from a farmer’s plough

“Two fathoms deep” shouted across the bow

“Anger and hatred are caustic to the vessel in which it’s stored

Far more than to anything on which its poured”

The longer we live the less we know for sure

When we were a younger brood our certainty was premature

There’s all these abstract explanations we could conjure up in vain

But we’re people with incredible shrinking brain

We’re people with incredible shrinking brains

Side-Tracked

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I am the master of getting side-tracked.

I was doing something else (learning a song)—and now I’m doing this. I accidentally slipped and fell into my blog.

You may be thinking: “this dude has a short attention span.” But, then again, I just wrote that in quotations, so you must have said it out loud. I’d fix it—but I’m not the boss of you. None of this is really the case, anyway.

I blame my smart phone, and in that sense, I take full responsibility for the rest of this.

I’m a cyborg in 2018 with an augmented intelligence, collectively referencing the world wide web on a whim, or more to the point, interrupted by reminders set on my calendar, because at some point, I thought it was important to be reminded. That’s how I ended up here.

I was working on “Come Pick Me Up” by Ryan Adams, and then my phone got all nosey about what I should be doing (paying bills) versus what I am/was doing (fun stuff). The fear associated with late fees took me by the hand and walked me over to my computer, and the rest, is written

(Xzibit A):

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Not as much as you think Xzibit. I drive a Honda Civic—but I like the way you think, moreover, I like how you overthink thoughts. We’re like ships passing in the night… with cars on it.

My bills are paid on time. And I got a blog out of it. I also found some pictures of Xzibit. If you would have asked me yesterday, what I was doing right now, I never would have guessed it. I wonder what Xzibit is doing right now. I hope he is putting cars inside of cars, if it makes him happy. Sure, it’s a meme, but why not just take it at face value?

Good morning! (I made it just in time for noon).

- Mike

Dune, Absurd Dating Advice, and Paypal

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How to get all the ladies:

Step 1:  Strike up conversation about the book Dune.  

How to not get frustrated being on hold with Paypal due to fraudulent account activity:

Step 1: Write non-detailed blogs regarding absurd dating advice while being on hold for two hours in order to redirect your attention to something other than your frustration with someone hacking into your Paypal account and reeking havoc on other people's lives (namely mine)—not to mention being on hold for an absurd amount of time with Paypal.

On-Hold Music:

"With Paypal you can send money from your checking, savings, and..."

"Did you know you can get 2% cash back..."

"Did you know you can now complete your purchases with one click..."

I hope that your morning is far more exciting than mine.

Context

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Believe it or not, this picture has plenty of context.  

I'd go so far as to say that the contents of its context either completely disinterest you or you would be off-base in your assumptions, so I'll save you the mental abstraction exercise.

I did it for the beard.

That's right. 

But not in the way you think.

Let's call this picture "Mike Vitale Versus the Tuna Sandwich".

Does that help?  Probably not.

I was mid-bite... and it was a delicious tuna sandwich from Whole Foods on a cibatta—cohabit, chibatta... Seriously?—Ciabatta roll (fuck you auto correct—I win, this time—why is ciabatta such a weird word to spell—okay, fuck you Italians), but that's not the point.

Do you give up?

I was using my cell phone as a mirror to make sure I wasn't storing leftovers in my facial hair.

Win/Win for everyone but the Tuna Fish.  

Hi from Laguna Beach, CA.  We had a lot of fun playing at The Cliff last night.  

Lowering My Expectations

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What is happiness?

It's a complicated question if you think about it.  We've all thought about it at one time or another.

Ironically, the times we think the least on it, are probably when we're the happiest?  But then again, I don't know—the older I get, the more I realize I don't know anything.  I'm just throwing spaghetti at the wall like everyone else around me.

However, I have caught myself expecting way too much, too often.

Simple things.  Like, if I buy expensive things such as Air Conditioners, Sub Woofers, Guitar Pedals—can they not break?  It ridiculous to think that they won't.  Of course they are going to break, and they are going to do it when I am hurting for money and can not afford to replace them.

It almost becomes a mental focus exercise regarding what to pay more attention to: the things that make one sad, or the things that make one happy.  The seemingly level-headed person will immediately say something full of wisdom like, "focus on the positives rather than focus on the negatives."  I say, most likely, that the person who says that cries alone in their bedroom, or in their car, from time to time too.

No.  Maybe I need to lower my expectations.

I released a new single called GONE on June 12th.  I have sold two copies of it digitally.  It's two more than I was expecting to sell.  The song has been streamed on Spotify 15 times.  That is 15 more times than what I was expecting.  

This is a start.  I'll keep you posted.  Or, then again, maybe I won't, so that it isn't on the forefront of my mind.  

Whatever the case may be, I am making and releasing more stuff.  I'm 39 years old and I have no plans to stop making music or to stop trying to find people that like what I make.  You can count on that.

I'm happiest when I'm working hard, regardless of my expectations—and I am so grateful and thankful for my good health and to have you.  Deeply and truly.  Now, off to promote for a show tonight.  Take care. 

A Quick Note Regarding School Shootings

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My heart and my thoughts go out to every family, friend, and acquaintance who have lost a loved one to violence.

I notice a lot of people react on social media to current events that play out on an all-too-often basis regarding gun violence as it pertains to the United States as a country, whether it be at a high school, a grocery store, a gas company, or a post office.  The setting is not of major importance beyond the humanistic view of the act and its consequences.

Here is where I stand: it has nothing to do with weapons.

It is a human issue.

We are a troubled species.  We are troubled because there is a fine balance between reason, and emotion.  

A songwriter whose work I admire, likens this chemical struggle inside our brains, to a seesaw.  On one end of this seesaw is our logic, and on the other is our emotion.  In order for sound judgment to be made by an individual, one must be able to keep this balance at an equilibrium.  

At vast majority, this very simple idea is another thing all together to place into practice as a human being.  We live our lives, and hopefully, we all arrive at this notion at as young an age as possible.  I will be 39 this year, and I still feel this struggle, often.  However, I know that I have grown well beyond my appreciation of this notion, compared to, let's say, the age of 20.  It has been hard work and rumination on my part.

Rather than continue to discuss this issue as it pertains to guns, I would like to instead, pose a thought experiment: what if the United States were to ban guns entirely?

Before continuing, I would like to state that I have never shot a gun in my life, however, I do see the need to have this right maintained within the United States Constitution.  There was sound judgement behind this decision in the 1700's.  It is a safeguard to maintain the republic in which we all live, by the average individual, outside of military; essentially it allows for people to stand up for themselves should our government fail in its duties to uphold and protect citizens in the fashion it was originally intended.  Please note that I use the word republic, as it is the most accurate term to use for this oligarchy we currently reside in if you are a United States citizen—I am afraid democracy is not quite what we have here in America.  I am eager for democracy, but we must work towards that, together.

Throwing this previous paragraph aside, guns are banned in the United States.  Perhaps, the American population rejoices at this notion.  We have years of peace from the dangers of firearms being brought into public spaces to reenact revenge, or to project fear and hate on innocent bystanders.  Yet, one day a begrudged student at a junior high packs a homemade pipe bomb into a backpack.  He leaves all of his books and folders at home.  He leaves his iPad on his desk.  He replaces his tools for logic with an explosive device, and leaves for school.

He places his backpack in a public location for maximum damage: the school office.

Does this sound far fetched?  It's not.

It happened at my junior high, and luckily, the backpack was found before it could be detonated.

We live in a world where passenger planes have been used as weapons.  

What we should be asking is what the motivation is behind harming another person—and that is a deep and dark question.  It has many facets and would take much study to arrive at a seemingly good answer as it pertains to each unique event.  But, perhaps that is of a far more sound judgement, if we truly want to advance as a species who loves each other.

Reach out for help when you need it.  Be there for a total stranger.  Try loving unconditionally.  Do things for others expecting nothing in return.  Communicate.  Just love and be as humanistic as possible.  Be the best damn version of yourself as you can be.  Be kind, always.

If you want to see change, start with yourself.  I am trying my best to, everyday.

- Mike