New GoFundMe Campaign Launched

I am working on raising money for a few efforts, most notably getting to the Kerrville Folk Festival in May. My car needs quite a bit of maintenance revolving around a timing belt, a tensioner, idler pulleys, water pump, serpentine belt, a set of brake pads, and a few other bells and whistles. The cost of parts has gone up on these things as well as the cost of labor. If you feel up to helping out a bit, I would be so honored. I’m also trying to refresh my merchandise as I have sold out of most everything I have, and get caught up on a power bill that is pretty out of control:

https://gofund.me/16929c3a

WHO IS MIKE VITALE?

I am a storyteller, songwriter, singer, 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 MEDIA

UPCOMING TOUR DATES

So Beautiful, or So What

I’ve had several songs bouncing around in my head like a 1980’s pinball machine: long hair and leather jacket, 4:20 on the clock. Ping ping. Ping ping.

The clickers and clickety-clack of flippers, knocking that shiny reflective orb into the playfield.

Playing.

We all need a lot more playing. Taoists call it Wu Wei. It has a lot of different names. It could just be takin’ it easy. Easy riding. Chillax. Effortless living. The Way.

The Dude.

I was tasked today with having fun. Just doing whatever the fuck I wanted to that makes me happy, in the moment, so I did that. It has been a beautiful day. I choose to feel happy. I could have woke up miserable too, and I did cry—but I then said, no, today will be a good day. I choose happiness.

Speaking of dudes. I visited my dad yesterday. I’m getting over that Bird Flu (not sure yet but it hasn’t been a normal cold or flu or what have you; it’s been 10 days).. Novel viruses. Coughing up the stuff in my body that no longer serves me. I didn’t want to get him sick, so I waited to see him.

He’s supine in a bed, and he suffers being where he is at. He just wants to go home. I totally get it. We all just want to go home. Like Odysseus in The Odyssey. Back to Ithaca. The war’s over; I just wanna go home.

He’s had multiple strokes over the past several years and he also does everything in his power to hide this notion amongst other things, while also not doing the best job of that either. That’s okay by me.

I’m happy we got to the bottom of things yesterday. It was Scooby-Doo and the Gang, all piling into the Mystery Machine, to solve the case of why my Dad is the way he is.

What I really want, is to grow old with my Dad and for him to fight for his life. It’s a gift for all of us, especially—especially when we treat it that way, for what LIFE really is: sacred.

Sacred as the human breath. Voluntary and involuntary. The perfect way to calm down: controlled breath and meditation.

It’s the simplest forms of what all of us have, that will make this world a better place.

Say, (CBT) Cognitive Behavioral Therapy as a friend of mine, put it to me, over the phone. I mean, just talking in plain English to each other and being as honest as possible,

Breathing. That’s simple too.

There are all these simple answers to problems, right under our noses: our mouths.

Every action, was first a thought, before it is acted out.

Think about it.

Life is what we make of it; so beautiful, or so what (that was one of many songs pinging around this playfield of mine/mind).