Hillary’s hijacked emails are here..
Not sure how long they will stay at this site so go and read them before they get pulled…I pasted one so you would know what they look like….
Categories: General Tags: emails, government, guccifer, lies
HIStory, OURstory, MYstory part 1
Before we took far separate paths as adults we were two little toddler boys that only had each other to rely on and to hold on to as our world was turned upside pretty much from the word “go”. I couldn’t have been any older than five and I clearly remember and can still see that when our “mom” would get pissed off she would shout at us she was going to jump in the “Goddamn river” and she would make us watch as she packed her suitcase and left my little brother and me all alone in the house to hold each other in the living room floor and cry after begging her to not go…”Please don’t go mommy, we won’t do it again”… whatever “it” was that caused her to flip out…Me, being the oldest I tried to protect my little brother during these fits she had… This was repeated over and over for whatever reason and seemed to come out of nowhere and happened over and over our entire life growing up. We lived about 3 blocks from the river. 531 second street was the address. It was a straight shot up Second Street, thru 3 lights and then the boat ramp. And I all I could think of each time was mom’s car was sinking in the river with her in it. Her hands on the wheel and we caused it…But we weren’t bad kids. Hell, we were little kids. Her reason for doing this I still don’t know to this day. Another thing she did was lock us in separate closets. He (my brother) would be locked in her closet in her bedroom and me in our bedroom closet. I remember time after time sitting in the dark on that trunk full of my deceased father’s clothes, crying and hollering for David asking if he was alright and he also in the dark crying and hollering for me like prisoners trying to communicate with each other though their cells were far apart…I couldn’t even sit up. The closet was full of clothes so I would sit on that trunk huddled up…”mom” had left us again alone in the house to “teach” us a lesson. You think that kind of treatment would be a little hard if forced onto teenage boys or prisoners of war but David and I where little kids. We were barely in Grade school. It always seemed like she was gone for hours each time she left. All we would hear between our wailing would be silence… an empty house, two little boys alone locked in closets begging to be released…
I remember one of my first memories was being told she (mom) was giving my little brother away. A couple showed up. We were in the kitchen. They picked him up and I watched as they took him outside and loaded him into a white four door car. I then sat in a metal high chair and cried not knowing why my little brother was given away but he was gone…she thought it was “cute” that I cried. .”I gave your little brother away” she would say… I didn’t cry … I wailed from my entire being. The couple only took him riding and eventually brought him back. But to this little boy I had thought he was given away because she said she given him away. Growing up, it was a lot of cold mind games played out on us little kids. Everything was our fault. But on the outside it looked like a perfect little world.
When we got older she started locking us in the bathroom. It had an outside lock on the door. I used to try and climb out through the transom at the top of the door. One foot on the tub, one foot on the door knob and I could pull myself up. When I was able to do that, it turned into “get in the car!!” and David I would load up in the back seat. It was usually at night and she would drive to my real Mother’s trailer in behind Green Gables restaurant. She would park out in front of her trailer and tell us to “get out of the car”…”Let her raise you”…”you want that??” …”DO YOU WANT THAT???!!!!!!” she would scream…of course we would be crying and we would beg her to stop and after awhile she would start the car and we would go home with us promising to not do “it” again whatever “it” was….
I don’t know why we were faced to suffer through those rants of hers over and over as little boys. The photographs we have of us as little boys mostly were staged. Sit this way. Smile. Hold the phone and act like you’re talking on it. Me knowing I wasn’t allowed to even talk on the phone … We weren’t allowed to cross the street until we were about 14 years old. Everything was controlled. I don’t know why she thought it was “ok” to do what she did. It was nothing short of child abuse… I guess today as my brother sits alone in jail and his son is dead and his step mom did what she did, it reminds me of mom. My mom tried to erase all of my birth Mother’s family except for the ones that meant something to her or she could get something out of it. They basically never existed in her eyes. She thought she was a “savior” in her own eyes. Did she do some good in the course of time? Of course she did. So it’s the same shit, different generation. I would also bet if David and I had any other name than “Gee”, like if we had our Mother’s name instead, she would have taken that away from us too. The case in point, my nephew. His family didn’t sign him away but we all were erased and kept back until he, like my brother and I had to do. Come of age and figure out what the hell was the truth and what wasn’t the truth. In December before he was shipped out. He spent four days with his Father. My brother, not the best father in the world but his father just the same. They made amends. Lil David finally knew the real truth. There was the truth, warts and all and hugs and forgiveness… Thank God for that.
It’s a year later and I still run into people that didn’t know Lil” David is my Nephew or that my brother David lost his only son in Afghanistan…and are shocked of the deception…Am I shocked? Of course not. I have been through this before. Like I said earlier. It was just a couple of generations earlier that my brother and I had experienced the same crap. So I felt his pain, I feel our pain…all the years of me suppressing what we went through is no longer buried… I can’t forget the things my brother has done as an adult…But the little boy inside of him and me need each other.
Setting the record straight.
part 2 in a few…
chuck
chuck@kickacts.com
Categories: General Tags: adoption, american hero, child abuse, grandparents, kentucky, soldier, step parents
KickActs interviews Phil Swann!
Welcome to Kick Acts. Tell us a little about yourself and your band and where you can be found at on the web.
I’ve been knockin’ around this whacky racket for over 30-years. See:
www.philswann.com – Did you read that? Sweet Jesus, I’m 180-years old!
Who are your musical heroes, influences & why?
My influences vary widely and wildly. When I was a kid, my dad listened to Sinatra, Dean, Sammy, etc, you know, the standards, the tunes penned by the amazing Tin Pan Alley guys and gals. I think that’s where my first appreciation of really great songwriting was formed (listen to my CD Stale Scotch & Cheap Cigars). But, being a child of the 60s & 70s, I was, of course, drawn to rock ‘n’ roll, and the singer / songwriters of that era (Listen to my new EP, Age of Opportunity). To complicate matters further, I was raised in a small town in West Virginia therefore exposed to a lot of country music…by the way, not what’s called “country music” today, – I’m talkin’ the real hardcore stuff i.e George Jones, Ferlin Husky, Merle Haggard, Tom T. Hall, and of course Hank. So, I’m a bit “sybil-esque” when it comes to musical influences. I really do love it all and have learned from every genre.
Do you have any advice for someone just getting started in playing music?
Yes, marry well.
Any pitfalls they should avoid?
Yes, don’t get married.
Do you have a greatest gig story you’d like to share?
See below
On the same token as the above question. How about a “worse gig” ever story.
I’m combining questions 4 & 5 and here’s why: I’ve been very lucky in that I’ve been able to make a living in music since I was about 15-years old. Gigging was my part-time job growing up and gigging put me through college. I knew a lot of old WWI & WWII songs and that allowed me to play about every restaurant and piano bar in the NYC. After college, I hit the road in bands and never looked back. Believe it or not, a musician used to be able to make a pretty decent living by just gigging – I know, crazy talk, right? I think the biggest suck-factor for young bands and artists today is the lack of paying gigs. This concept of “play your music for free” or worse, “pay us to play your music” is ridiculous, insulting and just f**king wrong! What the hell is that about? When and how did that happen? But I digress. Anyway, back to best and worst gig question.
It’s hard for me to answer because 1). There are just so many gigs and stories, and 2). I’m not sure the statute of limitations is up in some states. But here’s what I do want to say and what I want my younger colleagues to hear: Looking back, I find that the good gigs are (as they were then) still good gigs, but the bad gigs are the GREAT stories. And trust me my young friends, the stories are everything. The stories are why we do this. The stories are what keep us plowing forward with a smile on our faces when the business just makes us want to cry. The stories we tell each other from the life we lead in this stupid stupid stupid business is what makes a life in the creative arts SO rewarding. Look, it’s like this: gigs will come and go; deals will come and go; fame will come and go; money will come and go. But if you’re living the creative life, you will always have stories. And not just amusing little anecdotes but incredible odysseys that mere civilians (non-creative folk) can only dream about. And trust me, that means something. It actually means everything, especially the older you get and longer you live this crazy life. So, embrace the bad, hellish, nightmare gigs. Don’t let them zap your energy, or suck your spirit, or worse, drive you out of the business. They’re going to be the great stories you talk about for years to come. One of my favorite Mark Twain quotes is: “Today’s tragedy is tomorrow’s joke.” God, is that ever true. I have that quote over my desk and look at it everyday. Just keep me on track.
But…there was that night in Joplin, MO when the girl crawled under my keyboard rack and..uh…never mind.
Do you have any other hobbies other than playing music? Collect stamps? Collect hats from off the side of the road? Draw pictures of boobs?
Well, who doesn’t like to draw a nice boob picture from time to time? You know, it’s weird, I’ve never been a person with hobbies because my hobbies have inevitably become my job ergo I guess you could say I’ve never had a job. Hmm, I should talk to my shrink about that – I’ve never said that out loud before.
But it’s true. I started playing music as a kid because it was fun; suddenly, I was getting paid for it. I started writing songs because it was fun (and a great way to make girls like me), before I knew it, I was being paid for it. I started holding songwriting workshops because I loved hanging out with songwriters and talking about songs; again, before I knew it, I was teaching songwriting at UCLA. I liked working with artists in the studio and…yup, you got it, I started being hired to produce records. More recently, it’s been writing novels (which I’m loving). I wrote a suspense thriller a few years back called, “The Mozart Conspiracy.” The book was published and has been selling pretty well. I’m working on my second book right now. FYI, I signed a deal at the beginning of this year with an Italian book publisher who is releasing an Italian translation of “The Mozart Conspiracy.” They call it, “Il Codice Amedeus.” Cool, right? So, no, I don’t have any hobbies. I’d get one but I’m afraid it’d become my living and I don’t have time for anymore jobs. Jesus, I’m tired just hearing all that.
What do you think about the present music scene or lack of?
Oh crap, here’s where I start sounding like my dad. Okay, here goes. We all are aware of the trials and tribulations facing the music industry today. Hell, guys like me sit around and bitch about it on a daily, if not hourly, basis. I talked about it earlier when addressing the problem of “free music” instead of good paying gigs. I guess my frustration today is I feel that music and we who create music just need to be respected more. But – and this is really what I feel – I think we creators must respect ourselves more. Lord, guys, stop GIVING IT AWAY!!! It’s not helping anyone – least of which you.
Look, I understand YouTube, Internet radio, Spotify, yada yada yada are not going away. Nor should they. We artists and writers can (and always have) embraced new technologies as a way of getting our music out to the world, but we have to stop de-monetizing it. It doesn’t serve the art form; it only devalues its importance. We can find a balance. I hope there are smarter people than me out there working on this. We can’t keep going down this road.
Also, we (the creators), in the midst of all this new technology at our disposal, must never lose sight of the purity of the music. I fear sometimes we’re not “writing songs” these days as much as we’re “making records.” Don’t get me wrong, the records we’re making sound amazing! Technology continues to blow my mind and there are some very gifted producers and engineers making those records – hell, they’re practically scientists! But sometimes I miss the pure and simple craft of songwriting. You still hear it occasionally but more and more it’s about the production and less about the crafty-ness of the song. Here’s what I mean; I believe the great songwriters from the Tin-Pan Alley era created pop songwriting as we know it today. They were just such fine craftsmen and women and we’re still basically doing what they perfected…just not as well, at least I’m not. I think it’s forgotten that they had to write songs that would be hits from the sale of the sheet music. The songs had to work on paper alone! I think a bit of that way of creating might be a good thing to remember as we’re downloading our cool new plug-in or latest upgrade of ProTools.
Sorry. I told you I was about to sound like my dad…or your dad.
Tell us something about each of your band members that we wouldn’t expect to hear… (Like their hobbies or something like that)
I don’t have any band members but I do have many many many imaginary friends. They’re all named Fred.
Hypothetical situation. You’re stranded on Gilligan’s island and you get to hook up with only one of the girls. Is it Ginger, Mary Ann or Mrs. Howell and why?
Well, Mary Ann is definitely the hottest but I fear I’d fall in love with her after the sex and, well, let’s be honest, this is a deserted island and who wants to be in a committed relationship on a deserted island? So no on Mary Ann. Now, Ginger, yes, hot, and probably a hellcat in the ol’ hammock. But I think I’d have to take a pass there too. I mean, she is an actress after all and my experience with actresses is they’re all a bit bat-shit crazy; I’d be afraid she’d freak out in the middle of the night and stab me in the face with a shiv made out of a coconut. So, pass on Ginger too. Which, I guess, leaves, Mrs. Howell. Yes, Mrs. Howell is who I’d hook up with. Besides, I think she’d be grateful and isn’t that what all any of us are looking for? Someone to be grateful? Plus, it’s a deserted island…who’s going to know. (editor’s note:This is the best damn answer I have received so far for this question)
Our last question is called Shout It Out Loud. It’s where you get to talk about whatever you want to talk about. So go ahead and “SHOUT IT OUT LOUD”!
“No,” he whispered.
Categories: General Tags: Age of Opportunity, gilligans island, Henry and Caroline, LaFamos, phil swann, singers and songwriters