Category Archives: News!

General thoughts, announcements, and things to share

Start Here (More Beginnings…)

Starting Here
Clipper Cove on San Francisco Bay

 

I’ve wanted this portal, my main link to the outside world to speak more immediately, about things that concern us both today. My main concern is that this evening is road dog night. Jump from downtown Los Angeles back up to Northern California. So there is that.

But, what you have come here for may be for a great many much more grand purposes than to find out where the seat of my pants is going to be placed somewhere after sunset. I understand how you feel.

Here we go. Let’s try connecting a few dots. Show business first and foremost is to be found right around this page. You can visit my highlight reel link just above where you’ll find a short piece of Dana Smith in Edmonton from a few years ago. Shot, edited and to the extent possible Alan Plotkin tried to be sure to annoy his subject matter by including certain moments of resistance the entertainer encountered while playing to his crowd. So there’s that.

You can check out my novels by clicking on the link. You can sample some of my blog posts. You can contact me and last of all once you’ve put yourself through all these digital contortions you can grip that mouse in your hand firmly click and depart for virtual experiences near and far, better or worse, few I prefer to believe a good bit less bent than mine.

I’m wrestling with some new writing on the topic of street theater. Have a boat I’m getting ready for sailing off the coast of California this summer. I’ve been threatening to mount a new performance titled the World Emergency Full Catastrophe Climate Change Comedy Show. It’s not like I’m just sitting here counting my lucky stars. I’m working twice as hard as the next guy and getting half as far. Artistic endeavors are seldom achievements we can measure as going lightning quick. More like they take their own good time, arrive as they will, when they’re ready. Sort of like this website change. I want to welcome you here by keeping it real and fresh. I’ll be back soon enough with more for you to see and chew. Until then eat more vegetables, drink more water and try to get some sleep.

Edited Red Star

Start Here

 

Lets Go

This is Where You Find Out Where I’m Going

 

Starting Here and Starting Now…

Thanks for surfing on over to my site. I am trying to make my address more lively, more dynamic. I am best known for my work as an entertainer, as a street act, a busker. I’ve also a few books that I’ve written and you can find my work online at Amazon’s bookstore.

I remain on stage and will appear at Harvey Milk Elementary School in San Francisco in April. That’s a weekend appearance and the public is invited.

I have a fourth novel that has bedeviled my best efforts to make whole. The project is years in process and has had to take its place on a shelf while I clear my mind and imagination. I simply could not afford to lock up on this manuscript. I hope to turn my attention back to the manuscript after giving the work some space and time.

I have turned my attention to writing about my work as a street performer. After I have a few more pieces written and I get a better grip on where I want this work to go I’ll have more. As for now I have a good telling of what it is like to perform a thirty minute street show thousands of times. Another describes the logistics of mounting a grassroots tour across North America. In another I discuss some of the great street performers that have gone onto Broadway, television and feature films. I’ve a long list of topics I want to add to this collection. It is now at the top of my list of work that I would like to complete.

I have also been kicking around the idea of writing the World Emergency Full Catastrophe Climate Change Comedy Show. So, there is that and I mean how funny can that show be?

There you go..

Environmentalists Are So Low Energy…

windmills.JPG

Grasping at Windmills

Asymmetric warfare is on in California’s wine country. She’s this place everybody wants a piece of. Sweet to drink, fine to sleep with and when you’re done owning her you’ll flip her and move on down the line.

That’s life tangled in the vines. No broad brushing the truth here. The developers masquerading in denim overalls have it figured out. Pull that violin out and play the sentimental heart tugging tune.

Big Agriculture’s the bully and you will dance to their tune. I said dance, and lift your feet a little higher when I say dance. The wine making isn’t the thing it’s the incessant expansion. The valley is built out. That deal is done. What about the hillsides? That games on.

Most American’s don’t have the money to play. International billionaires can come and take a piece of it. Trophy property is so tedious to maintain. How many times can someone eat at the French Laundry?

The environmentalist is a tenderhearted patsy going up against a cold calculating developer who eats obstacles in their way with a crack of the back of their lawyers hand. The goodie two shoes haven’t a chance.

I was in France last month. We were in the Languedoc-Roussillon. We visited O’ Vineyards outside of Carcassonne. No traffic, no crowds, no run up in real estate prices. Tasted some reds I’d drink again. The winemaker was a good man. He was making a heroic effort to bring quality. Toiling in obscurity searching for poetry in the sunlight. Bravo

Everybody wants a piece of Napa. They want her. They need her. They must have her. This isn’t going to end pretty. Ask our salmon and steelhead? They’re extinct… in just the last ten years. It was a good run for five million of them, but what the hell we have a crush to get out. You are so not getting it man. Environmentalists are so low energy…

A View from the Nations Capital

watergate

Watergate 

 

If I told you who I had dinner with last night I would have to kill you.

 

Evidently the individual was privy to top secret information. He continuously looked around to see if anyone was overhearing the conversation. He was sure the gentleman seated at the next table was trying to glean nuggets of information that evidently could be used against him.

 

So, I thought perhaps rather than bogging down in the details why not go big, really big, global, and find out what he thinks is going on exactly here on planet earth as seen through the eyes of a beltway insider.

 

First, everybody and everything is bought. Okay, Is it the D’s or R’s? It’s everybody. Who’s doing the buying the banks? Nope… they are silly little intermediaries. Who is it then? It isn’t even the multinationals, they are too small and too weak. It is something more vaguely powerful than all of that.

 

Here was his answer. There are a group of organized syndicates that have enormous capital reserves invested around the globe, they are quasi criminal, decidedly uncoupled to any nation state, and singularly interested in what they are interested in and haven’t the least bit of time for the silly notion of running or managing a country. Got that? Voting rights, abortion, stand your ground, gay marriage… all of that is silliness…. These people are interested in commodities, in offshore tax havens, central bankers doing what they are told, and small countries with no economies having nice little revolutions that might clutter the front pages of newspapers to provide cover and distraction while they go about their merry business of global domination busily vacuuming up all that wealth, all those riches, all that fabulous loot. Evidently this group isn’t into the spiritual thing….

 

Washington DC is out of control because they want it that way. Capitalism, democracy, the Bill of Rights, constitutional form of government, corporations, free trade, the dollar… all that big stuff? These guys (girls too) transcend all that junk. It isn’t even anything to do with any of that. It does seem to beg the question if this is farce why the NSA? What are we trying to protect ourselves from?

 

And it is the perfect set up. Anyone starts trying to explain this and they are instantly placed into the loony bin of conspiracy theorists, inflammatory the sky is falling types. Nope, keep your head down and keep playing along, any conversation about the puppeteers of the Davos set is sheer folly, you will need to see the head doctor and start taking your med’s regularly. So sanity is a negotiable… sincerity a quaint and quite charming but exploitable character trait. If you raise your voice as our dear friend Edward Snowden has done you are in deep dew-dew… First rule of rules? Don’t speak about the unspeakable.

Anyway, there you go mates, a cheerful little view from a DC insider….

 

Kennedy

HOT SPRING HONEYMOON

 

 

Bambalina was worried near to death. He wasn’t even kind of the same man. If he’d kept working, even at this pace, unfortunate as it may have seemed Fletcher McCrea was going to be stupid rich and rock bottom miserable all at the same time. That kind of paradox could shatter the soul of even the world’s most shallow womanizer’s. The saddest part was the burro could see that Fletcher didn’t much care for his life any longer. Worse yet Bambalina could smell that he wasn’t even bothering to shower. There was no need, he wasn’t going into town and none of his women were driving up to spend the night. He wasn’t even getting drunk. He didn’t even have enough sadness for that.

Day after day he’d worked the tragic end of his sex life, over and over again in his head. The same answer spit out every time. Fletcher McCrea could not conceive of there being any method or means to his being faithful to one woman. It was neither natural to his inclinations nor a kind of way of being he agreed with. For Fletcher’s sex life to work right he needed to be all tangled up with one woman, but just for the night, and then best thing was if he was with a woman, he’d see another he’d have to have, and then he’d start dwelling on the other while he was having intimate relations with the one. His women all knew that. His way of turning his sex life into some kind of relay race was an adaptation, a coping mechanism. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t kind. It was simply the best he could do. It was incomprehensible that when Fletcher McCrea looked out from Pipe Dream Mountain across the open wild Great Basin bottom lands, he was looking as far as any man’s eye could see, and there wasn’t in eyesight another bunch of women ready to take over where all his former girlfriends had left him off.