Thinking About Livingston

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esterday sucked.

Let’s start with my doctor. I received a letter from him dated December 1, yesterday. He’s leaving his practice. He sent that before he ever knew that I was gunning for him. That damn nurse didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me that.

What a messed up medical practice. I’m sorry. I just can’t be kind anymore.

Then it got worse. My former doctoral professor sent a bunch of us an email. Bel Hooks died. She was a feminist author who meant a lot to us.

My secret is out. I’m really Doctor Laskowitz. I mostly don’t tell anybody because I don’t use my degree for anything. I’m qualified to teach wannabe professors how to profess.

Still.

It got worse. When I started managing musicians I had no idea what I was doing. I reached out to a couple of people I knew. One, was Neil Young’s late manager, Elliot Roberts. Elliot passed a few years ago. He left a giant hole in Neil’s heart and a smaller one in mine.

Yesterday, Ken Kragen passed. He had a good run. He was 85. He helped Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton break through.

I have no more gurus. No rabbis. They’re gone. Maybe it’s my turn. To teach. Not to die. Not yet.

I suppose that a couple of you are getting the idea that when I tell you I was backstage at the last Rolling Stone’s tour I might have a little juice.

I’m gonna take it a step further.

Musical Miss is Norah Jones. The other musician is Mary Chapin Carpenter. Now you know. Don’t mess with me when I’m in mourning.

I just might tell you things that you don’t want to know.

Or, maybe you do. And, now you are going to try to get backstage passes from me. It’s possible. Anything is.

I

was paging through Facebook and saw a picture I really like by a fine artist I really like.

A real fine artist. Not one of those people who takes a picture of an average sunset and calls it fine art.

She more or less created the picture out of whole clothe. I thought it was a good idea, so I did it too.

No original thinking was damaged in the making of this picture.

After living in Hong Kong for so long. I acquired a lot of Buddha faces. I rarely photograph them, but I thought yesterday was a good day to try.

The original picture was made in black and white, but along came OnOne.

You know me. I can never leave well enough alone, I started tinkering and messing around.

Eventually, I came to this place.

The Buddha of rust.

The rust god.