Uncle John's Band

                      "It's the same story the crow told me, it's the only one he knows,
                        like the morning sun you come, like the wind you go,
                        ain't no time to hate, barely time to wait,
                        oh oh, all I want to know, where does the time go?"
                                                                                    - "Uncle John's Band" Grateful Dead.

   It's been a fear I've dragged around for years that one day my extended family would need my help, at a time when I couldn't give it.
  A few days ago my brother called and broke the news that our uncle John passed away from a heart attack at the age of forty-eight years old. A rock formed in my throat and the tears rushed up immediately. Growing up in Minnesota my uncle John was a central figure in my life and I can't imagine a kid having had a cooler guy for a playmate, sitter, big brother, etc...
  Jon was into models, Star Trek, Star Wars, classic cars, you name it and he built a model of it. I used to sneak into his bedroom at Grandma and Grandpa's house when he was gone and play with Corvettes and fly the Enterprise around the room, until something broke. Then I would set it down and leave, but instead of getting in trouble when he found out, he would always just repair it and nothing else came of it. Jon was eleven years older than me and as he started growing into more grown up stuff, I marveled at how cool everything was that he was discovering. I remember after he got his first car, he purchased a siren that attached magnetically to the roof of the car. He took me along with him for a ride and before I knew it, the siren was blaring and we were scaring the shit out of kids all over South St. Paul. Then came the first fuzz buster I had ever seen, and now that I think back, everything in that car was like a new treasure to me. Not only did I hear my first Guns 'n' Roses and Beastie Boys cassettes in that car, but the very stereo systems and speakers they were played on became a new discovery. Jon was an electronics guy and he was constantly ripping out one system and replacing it with something different. The wires would be hanging out and I would hold the tape decks and examine all the parts.
  When John enrolled in the military and left for Virginia, I lost my childhood hero and was pretty bummed. When he returned I was excited but things, as they always do, had changed. John had grown and found a relationship. Our lives often intermingled as I also grew and changed, and we still enjoyed each other's company. John had a big loving heart and never had anything but a smile to greet me with. When he was working as a security guard in the early nineties he brought home a big baby German Shepard one day. He was an intimidating looking guard dog except when he tried to bark all that would come out was a bunch of little squeaks. The security firm couldn't train him to play the role of mean doggie and from that day on, John and "Squeaks" were the epitome of man and his best friend. 
  As I grew and left home for college and eventually California, John and I saw each other only a few times, but as I think back, all I can remember was his smile and a hug before we said goodbye. Now that I no longer have you to hug uncle John, I'm left with some regret that I didn't see you more.
  As I mentioned earlier, I've been dragging around a bag of fears for years that a time would come when my family would need my help, and I wouldn't be in a position to do so. That time has come. Uncle John and his big heart extended to his family, he cared for his sister, my aunt Anita. Without his support, the future is uncertain, and suddenly a fire was lit under my ass to do something about it.
  For the last fifteen years I've been a struggling musician in so-cal. I'm in a band and I have a couple of albums out there in the world, but as of yet, it hasn't exactly brought home the bacon. I've written prolifically over the years and the notebooks of songs to-be-recorded have piled up in the garage, wondering if they will ever see the light. A few months ago I finally began typing up everything I thought worthy, in an attempt to create some organization in my music life. After I received the sad news, and the tears had finally subsided, I began, finally, dealing with the fear.
  You have been a true angel in my life uncle John, and I'm sure it was your inspiration that sat me down at the keyboard and put my hands to work. In the last few days I've been typing, editing, and formatting, while my sons not-so-patiently for dad to pay attention to them. Seventy songs later, I'm happy and relieved to announce that I have published my first volume of songs in a book format. I need to step up and pick up where John left off and in an effort to do so, I'm donating a portion of every book sale to help care for my family. Here is the link, it is available on amazon and kindle. http://www.amazon.com/Tristan-Songs-Sad-Child-Luhrs-ebook/dp/B00WA8SGLA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1429297689&sr=8-1&keywords=tristan+songs+of+the+sad
  Thank you for the support. John, you've been a true angel in my life, rest always in peace, the world is a better place for having had you in it!

The Fighting Parents

  I took a nap with my youngest son today. I wasn't the least bit tired, and both his mother and I got good sleep the night before. About half an hour into his nap the eczema woke him up and he was ripping apart the skin on his elbows and fingers with his eyes closed. I laid down with him and started our routine of grabbing whichever spot he goes for and massaging it with aquaphor, vaseline, cortisone, and every other thing natural or man derived. He would fall back to sleep for ten minutes and then start up again. After an hour or so of this I just started falling asleep and waking up with him.
  After the twins woke up and the day kicked back into gear, I soon found myself bribing the twins with snacks, chocolate milk, and the i-pad. The deal was to let me off the hook from being dad for awhile because Tristan's eczema was running wild after nap time, and all my attention was directed toward putting the fires on his skin out.
  It's not always like this, but these days mommy and I are put face to face with a reality that any loving parent probably doesn't want to deal with on a daily basis. That is the fact that you would forget yourself for your child's well being. I'm not trying to sound heroic though because it's an ugly process that happens the opposite of smoothly. My ego doesn't want to let me go. It wants me to feel sorry for myself, it wants more sleep, less stress.
  My hands cramp, my shoulder aches. I've been doing this in my sleep for the last year plus. The massaging soothes him and sloughs off the dead skin. It's all about keeping the wounds cared for to avoid infection. When I reach my breaking point, after he ripped off the gauze, and starts crying because I start forcing his hands away from each other, I have to step away for a minute and let my neck unclench. I'm dehydrated, I didn't eat lunch, the house is a mess, but the itching won't stop.
  When I walk back to the fight I see a new sight that makes my heart come crashing to a daily low point. He's moved off to the corner and he's hiding his hands from me so I can't see him scratching.
I need to write because I'm a writer, I need to golf because I'm a golfer, I want to drink because I'm a drinker. I need to relax because my nerves are fraying. I grab a glass of water and decide to fill up the pool outside in the hope that it will distract him. His discomfort becomes my energy, we'll get him through this...it's just a tough fight. 

April is End the Drought Month!

  Make no mistake, I'm a meat guy. There are few who walk the planet that appreciate a cheeseburger in paradise more than me. The fact is that paradise is in deep shit and if we don't wise up quick a hard rain is gonna fall. I don't mean the kind of rain you can drink.
  As California heads into it's fourth year of extreme drought it's time to face up to the truth. Forget global warming, and forget nature all together. All you have to do is drive around in a circle for a few miles and count how many burger joints you see.
 Mc Donald's(oh wait that's not real beef)
 Carl's Jr.
 Burger Lounge
 Smash Burger
 Five Guys...and many more. Now do the math. Every half-pound of beef produced requires about a thousand gallons of water to nourish, slaughter, and put that cow in your watering mouth. Almonds are another killer. Did you know it takes more water to feed California's annual almond crop than L.A., San Francisco, and San Diego drink in a year, COMBINED! Not only that but most of the crop is shipped out of state. Google it.
  Last week our illustrious incumbent old fogie Jerry Brown signed a water reduction plan into effect. The changes are coming but we residents are going to get squeezed while business as usual continues in this desert. Residents use a fraction of the water compared to Cattle and agriculture. It's unsustainable and as a concerned father and citizen I'm taking action.
  I'm allergic to almonds so no worries there. I'm swearing off beef for the month of April. It's been four days, and guess what...no cows here! Please pass this message on and help the cause. I'm not asking you to hug a tree or buy an electric car. Just stick a fish fillet between that bun for awhile!