That Old Guitar on That Old Guitar

Uncle, a 1934 Gibson L-1 flat-top acoustic, came to me via my wife Cat’s father, Steve, a stellar pianist and big band leader in Chicago. Cat’s great Uncle Ernest, Uncle’s original owner, bequeathed the guitar to Steve.

Uncle guarding Luna, May 2021

Cat & I found Uncle (in his original case) in the basement of her Chicago home. I tuned him up best he would, and strummed an open G major (the strings were a dozen years old, at least). He rang for less than a second before the bridge popped off. The sound of the chord was brilliant, however, and I took him…


We last left DUB in December 2018. Read the initial story if you haven’t yet, or need to refresh. This epilogue is appended to it, too, so you won’t need to click back:


at page 72

Fate splits old paperback bindings, such that they will then always beg to fall open at the break in the spine glue. Such is the case with my 30-year-old first-printing copy of Lydia Davis’s collected short stories, Break It Down.

The binding broke towards the end of “The House Plans,” a story of unrequited-yet-unabandoned dreams of pastoral solitude, after a tedious and demoralizing — but profitable — life in the city.

the loosed connections of love, hate, and fear

destinations unknown / brooklyn, ny (2020) // all photos © westy reflector [cc-by-nc-sa]

Love is an ongoing series of destinations unknown. A beautiful lifetime of unfolding discovery.

But what does it take to find love now?

In the face of a world reported to be out of control in different ways and places every 24 hours, perhaps the pursuit of love is the pursuit of security?

The desire for love and the feeling of lost love are the same thing. As Alan Watts said in 1951:

“To hold your breath is to lose your breath. …

“Votto. Because, hey, you never vote.”

all photos by author (cc-by-nc-sa)

Forget the electoral college and all those pesky potential faithless electors. U.S. Presidential elections should be decided by a mandatory nationwide scratch-off lottery. One lucky winner chooses the President.

Call it Votto (VOTE-oh).

As a scratch-off, Votto is so easy you don’t even need to know how to count, or how to fill in standardized test bubbles. Along with a postage paid return and the official scratch-off card, the Federal Lottery Office Program (FLOP) will mail every citizen a free scratching implement. And every potential winning-voter gets a choice: either a quarter or a .56mm-thick guitar plectrum. …

under the cold and darkly sky / you trip the light and go…

the cars were my fav growing up. their records and lateral solo projects not only will come with me to any desert island, they are my desert island — if i had to choose an island.

ric ocasek catalysed my adolescent desire and urgency to play the electric guitar and to write songs. all-lowercase, overdriven-jangle, and quirky-jerk, ocasek was also endearing, intelligent, and accessible. the cars became my crash course in how to bring depth to “disposable” music; that is, how melody married to meaning, i.e. …

A Stonewall story.

This year’s 50th anniversary of The Stonewall Riots that launched the queer rights movement in America brought back poignant memories of a quiet night spent in the riot’s eponymous bar on 08 July 2015, and a record I released in 2014 dedicated to Jim and his late husband John Arthur. My wife Cat’s and my long and dear friend, Jim Obergefell, came to NYC on the heels of the SCOTUS Obergefell v. Hodges decision that legalized same-sex marriage in USA. …

via Powerkiting YouTube

Lac du Der ‘station nautique’ France.

Natuur en recreatie, genoeg te beleven voor een weekendje weg.
Ondanks het koude weer toch nog een uurtje gevliegerd met de Freilein.

Nature and recreation, enough to experience for a weekend away.
Despite the cold weather, still flying an hour with the Freilein.

Music: Westy Reflector — ‘Riding Waves’

[edit 20190623: Playback disabled on external sites. Maybe that’s one reason the video only has 17 views as of today… Hi ho.]

The Internet is at its best when shared passions become community. When the net first started to gain cultural…

white dog and white oak in purple / prospect park, brooklyn / 2019 / cc-by-nc-sa

When all is foreground, nothing is background.

As a musician, I live the world acoustic. As a writer trapped in New York City’s crushing urban din, though, I also dream of flying into white noise more gentle on my mind. Living here can either deaden or heighten sensory hyper-awareness of the city’s sounds, smells, sights, tactile sensations, etc. For better or worse, I’m in the “heightened” camp after 25 years. Walking a dog through New York, too, transfers a fair amount of the animal’s awareness onto you. Both of you will remember the spot up the block where that chicken…

Westy Reflector

existential sing-alongs |

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