A bad thing and a good thing

I gave myself this unique haircut to elicit an entertaining response from my mother. The response was so animated I kept this atrocious style for several days. This style, "a bit here a bit there," might catch on. Unlikely.

Blod fibbles, 

That’s what happens when you can't come up with a greeting that feels right. This newsletter contains two distinctly different experiences on The Horse Tour. Before I jump into my yammerings a few link tidbits. 

Refugees, vulnerable populations and those living in crisis will be hit the hardest by the COVID-19 outbreak. If you've got any extra bucks please consider giving to International Rescue Committee Coronavirus Response (IRC). My family has been working with IRC for years and they do great work. Tuesday is Giving Tuesday, and all gifts made to IRC by midnight May 5 will be matched up to $50,000

I grew up in New York City, seeing all kinds of performance that inspired me to do what I do and want to do more. Lots of performing artists are in dire straits right now. Donations to The Indie Theater Fund are helping these artists in desperate need make it through Covid times. 

To check out my previous newsletter posts click here.

These are the colors my body produces when my mind feels bewildered and frightened.

A BAD BAD THING (racism on the trail)  * This upcoming story has people saying some very offensive and disturbing things.

I meet all types on the road and many types at my shows. Over ten years of performing and traveling I've cultivated the skill of liking certain parts of people and accepting their not-great parts. I hope people accept my not-great parts and find the good bits. This developed as a necessity in talking to audiences for hours after performances. There is no escape playing in homes, and I like it that way. I'm with this group of people and we are going to interact so I better notice something interesting, or pleasant, or outrageous or meaningful about each person. This tool has released me from that peculiar particular suffering that one sometimes finds being stuck in a room with humans. I like this challenge. It might exhaust me in the moment, but it's made me less judgmental and there is always something to find that you can like, or laugh at, or marvel at, about a person. That's all to say I'm used to having conversations and connecting to people who are not 'my people'. 

A further extreme of this challenge has been encountering racism, sexism, homophobia and all around putrid bigotry. I believe part of my job as a person, with a heart and soul, is to call out cruelty and violence as it comes up, to not let it slide as a confrontation might be awkward. How do I confront these things when they are coming from the people who have been kind to me and my horses, people who have saved our butts, people who have gone out of their way, sacrificing their time and money and even safety sometimes to help us on our journey? When I encounter outright bigotry it's shocking. My mind, in its hurt and upset, is processing what I just heard for a long time and then taking even longer to come up with some kind of appropriate response. Often, the perfect thing to have said hits me one to three days later. Having the capacity say something useful in the moment comes with practice. These moments are not the regular for me so I spend a lot of time just being shocked and upset rather than responding quickly, clearly and kindly. Like any muscle that gets stronger with use I feel the practice of challenging ideas and behaviors of hate operates in a similar way. The more we try to confront these things, in the moment, the better we get at understanding how to do that thoughtfully and clearly. 

In Arizona, before I had to hit the Covid pause button, I was getting my horses shod at a host's house. This host couldn't have been kinder and more generous to me. He wasn't hosting a show or anything but offered the horses space and feed, he offered me a place to sleep and food, he gave me horse tack he'd made, thoughtful advice on the route ahead and made many calls to find a Farrier in the area to shoe the horses. He was nice to me, but tough with the animals. I'm not gonna mention him by name just in fear that he might read this, track me down and put a bullet in my ribs. Good sir, if you are reading this, know I'm grateful for your kindness to me, but I gotta tell my stories when I got stories to tell. 

Normally I would never speak ill of my hosts. I value their privacy and generosity, I would be nowhere without them and I certainly do not need to agree with them on everything. In this particular incident I feel it's warranted to share as it illustrates a piece of where the country is at and what I have occasionally been traveling through.

Let's call him Don. He was in his late seventies with a cross around his neck and a gun on his hip. Within a few minutes of having met him he casually said to me, "Yeah, that's the thing about horses, they ain't got a key; there's no off button on a horse. I had this mare I was brushin’ and she reached around and bit me on my thigh. Well I tell ya what, I turned on her and punched that bitch in the nose hard as I could five or six times. She learned that lesson! Never had a problem with her since." Even more shocking to me than this method of horsemanship was that he told me this story with no hesitation, only a look of camaraderie, as though he could not imagine me saying anything other than "Oh yeah. Super cool, brah. That's what ya gotta do. Punch that horse in the nose!" I've met a good bundle of grizzled cowboys and appreciate there's an old school ruff and tumble way different from the new fangled tender natural approach, but using your horse’s nose as a punching bag is at best really despicable. 

The expectation of agreement is bizarre. People have so little imagination or such minimal exposure to ideas and types of thinking other than their own, they assume I will be of their mindset. They assume this ‘cause I'm white, ‘cause I'm a man, ‘cause I'm on a horse, ‘cause I'm in The West, ‘cause I have a pistol on my hip, or ‘cause I know how to tie a double diamond hitch on a pack saddle? I do call it out most of the time. There have been a few times when I didn't feel safe and shutting up felt the wise decision albeit a dirty uncomfortable one. Getting my horses shod at Don's was one of those moments. 

We had gotten in touch with a local farrier, a Canadian who could come over and shoe the horses. Apparently lots of Canadian cowboys come down to Arizona for the winter months. That whole stereotype that Canadians apologize all the time and constantly compliment your vocabulary and wash with lavender some and always hand out fresh baked miniature banana breads ain't exactly true. I'd already spent a couple days trying to track down a farrier and was happy to finally have an appointment, though a bit nervous as this farrier was kinda unknown to the community. As I've mentioned before, a bad farrier can cripple your horse in a hurry so keeping a close eye during the deed is essential. Don was also concerned so he stuck around during the shoeing to make sure everything went alright, which I appreciated. Again, a very nice thingDon did for me. 

The farrier was good. We could tell within a few minutes, but I could also tell he wasn't so fond of me as I wouldn't shake his hand or his helpers’ hand as Covid health recs were already circulating. I could see they thought that this was silly and that I was a yellow-bellied lame stream media deep state tool. I was fine with that. They were intrigued by my story and asked me questions as the farrier was working on Gus's second shoe. One of his helpers, sitting in the bed of their pickup, asked "Did your parents think this trip was crazy and try to stop you?" I said, "Well my folks have been pretty supportive, actually. I've had a handful of unusual ideas through the years so I guess they're a bit used to it." The farrier, holding Gus's hoof, looked up at me with a shit eating grin and said, "You're not gay, are ya?" I said "No (beat) I don't think so (beat) I might be hard to tell (beat) maybe I just haven't found the right man yet?" That was my way of throwing a ‘lil wrench into the stupid and letting it be known with a bit of goodhumor and charm that I was not gonna two step that dance party. Each thing I said his smile faded a bit more and I heard him say, "Well damn you to hell" as he returned to the hoof. At this moment I realized uh oh bad bad! Not the time to have a confrontation with a person who is holding my horse’s hoof in his hand and therefore my horse's life. I was quickly trying to sort how to get back into his good graces. Say something homophobic and play like I was joking? No no no. Talk about how Jesus was probably bi? No no no. I said, "I'm just kidding, but I do think my horses might be gay. They're rather affectionate with each other though I'm told that's called ‘herd bound’." A horse joke! A gay horse joke! That did it. They are laughing. Good the angry men with guns and sharp tools are laughing. It's ok, we're ok. I just kept thinking let's get these shoes on so we can leave this place. 

A few shoes later the conversation turned to Don's sidearm. farrier was asking about it and Don took it out and talked about the caliber and such. farrier asked, "You ever encounter the cartel out here?" Don said, "Once." farrier said "You pull the trigger?" Don said, "You're goddamn right I did." farrier said, "Yeah I hear if they don't speak English you pull the trigger." Don said, "That's right. If they don't speak English they got no business being here. It's much better now. We used to have a lot more of those problems with the previous president." Farrier said, "Oh is that the monkey one?" Don said, "Yep, but I call him much worse things than that. Then you got people telling you you can’t say that you can’t say this you gotta worry about people’s feelings, well I don't give a fuck about your feelings I say it how it is." Farrier said, "You're a dying breed my friend." Don said "God damn right I am," and I thought “Damn right you are!!!” The notion of him, or at least those ideas, being a dying breed was a small comfort in this horrifying exchange. Again, if you're reading this, Don, I mean I'd like your destructive violent cruel limited and limiting racism to die. You were very nice to me and I appreciate that, please don't find me and kill me. 

I was so horrified and just stood there. Not calling them out on this garbage of a conversation felt like participating in it. I was in a bit of shock. I did not feel very safe with them. Not feeling safe can fry your higher mental motor real quick. My biggest concern at that moment was for my horse. I did not want to get into a big debate with armed men about whether or not it's ok to be racist and murder people for not speaking English. The farrier still had my horse's feet, and therefore, life, in his hands. I can't remember what I said, something inadequate and pathetic. I think I made a disapproving guttural groan and mumbled about loving Obama, perhaps inaudibly.

I do think it's important that in the moment we don't let these things slide. We have to call it out right there, if only to let people know that there are other ideas and feelings and understandings and that they are not agreed with! I think silence is often received as a passive agreement. In that moment I was sad and horrified and in protection mode. There were other moments when I threw a small wrench in Don's gears. I let it be known I was Jewish. I let it be known I trusted the doctors’ advice on the news. I wore my bright pink shirt and politely asked him not to hit my horses after he smacked Troub on the side, for not lifting his foot the way he wanted him to lift his foot. I let it be known that my experience of strangers in the world is that they are mostly really good and lovely and kind. There was lots of talk about always being armed to the teeth even when you go to Walmart ‘cause people are awful and can't be trusted. When I challenged that notion I was told that I was young and that when I grew up I'd see the true nature of how awful most people are. Though Don was in his late seventies I said, "Ya know what, Don, I would argue that even in my young(ish) life I've encountered and engaged a lot more strangers than you. I've stayed in hundreds of people’s homes in a dozen countries, and in doing so, engaged with strangers of all sorts: young and old, rich and poor, brown and white, city and rural, English speaking and non English speaking, and I've found nearly all of them to be kindhearted and well-intentioned. Sooooo.... maybe calm down a bit, just bring a knife to Walmart and leave the uzi and bazooka at home." Something like that. He heard me and that felt like a small small win. Later that day he got in an argument with a driver on the road. He felt he'd been dangerously cut off by this other driver, they got into an argument, Don pulled out his gun to warn the guy and now Don had to file a police report and was sore about it. 

I've always felt like I sympathized with the experience of terror in the face of violence, but only intellectually. I've been very privileged to not feel fear in my body like so many people regularly do. Last year I found myself talking to a friend of a friend while in the desert with no one else around. A synagogue in Pittsburgh had just been shot up, I was hearing a lot more about anti-semitism in the news, and for the first time I felt somewhat vulnerable as a Jew in America. The conversation with this guy turned a bit political, he got angry and started spewing a good old bundle of bigotry. I found myself not challenging him. I didn't feel safe to do so. In that moment I got just the smallest, tiniest taste of what it feels like, that fear and vulnerability in your body. Feeling that in my body gave me a slightly deeper understanding for what women, black and brown people, LGBTQ and immigrants in this country experience so regularly. I thought about how to get better at calling these moments out, having the courage and understanding to do so when it's safe, and when it's not. Practice, I suppose. For me, staying away from any of those folks at all costs doesn't feel like the answer as those ideas are rampant right now. I can't be traveling and remain insulated from these moments. I hope I'm getting better at challenging hate in the moment while also holding people’s complexities, remembering that we are taught everything. No one comes into this world knowing how to be cruel, we learn it. I find it helps to remember that when encountering people’s appalling and deeply damaging ideas. 

My generous warm host Maria having a morning chat with the boys. We had a really nice rest with Maria and her sister Steph. They fed us like kings and I slept like a mummy. The horses are getting new shoes this week from a farrier in Apache Junction named Ty. He's driving 200 miles to shoe my horses and I'm grateful for it. He shoed em in Superior Arizona a couple months back so I know he's good.

A GOOD GOOD THING (visiting Brad's) 
Friends from Utah connected me to Brad Lancaster. I didn't know what he did but I knew he really did it, whatever it was. I was excited as my really cool friends are so cool so any really cool friend they say is cool is likely really cool for real. I met Brad with our mutual friends and we ate Ethiopian food, spinning large platters of shared delicious plops, licking our fingers and sharing our spoons. This was just as Corona was edging into the news. Little did we know! 

Back at Brad's place he gave me a micro tour of his home, his sidewalk, the trees and shrubs, structures and alcoves. I was so taken with it I asked if he would show my folks when they passed through town and he gave all of us an even longer, more enthused tour. Watch a glorious 52 minute documentary about Brad's home, lifestyle and neighborhood here. I'd also highly recommend these other two videos Brad sent me about smart living. World of Windows: pandemic-proof collaboration to (re)build resilience and How we live now: tips from offgridders, tinyhousers, homesteaders.

Here Brad squatted in his garden explaining how he likes mixed salads. He quickly reached and plucked all around him calling out the names of the greens, herbs and flowers as he was putting them in his mouth. It was charming and looked delicious. He's a gardener with a real theatrical flare.

Brad has devoted his life to living .... well... not like a nincompoop. I believe in all kinds of things. I have all sorts of values, but I've yet to implement many of them into my life practice. For example, I've been an aspiring vegetarian for 20 years. Brad is that rare breed who actually lives so much of what he believes. Dude hasn't had a car since 1996, he recycles his waste, including human, and every inch of his home is thoughtfully designed to support his life, his neighbors and the planet. He's one of the leading minds on turning water scarcity into water abundance. He has literally written the book on it, actually, three books, and if that kinda thing interests you check out his epic books with incredible illustrations on his website here. His website is also an amazing education hub for all things energy: conserving water, wind, solar and more. Folks who live in dry climates, landscapers, permaculture fans, life hackers of all sorts and all human beings check out Brad’s site! It's an incredible amount of lived knowledge that is there for the sharing and we need these resources now more than ever. I'm also very excited to take a crack at a song for Brad. He felt that all good movements have had songs to accompany them and asked if I could take a shot at one for the water world. I have very little confidence in writing a movement appropriate song, but I'm gonna take a crack it! 

Brad explaining his solar-heated shower and rinse system. Notice the black water bucket to retain heat.

Runoff water that he can redirect to various plants on the property.

Dried sweet Saguaro Cactus fruit! Some of the most delicious dried seedy gloop I've eaten and I'm a gloop connoisseur. 

I learned that what I had thought was some kind of mold or fungus on the pads of various cactus throughout Arizona was, in fact, the Cochineal insect. When squished it produces a most brilliant scarlet color used most often for dyes. It takes 70,000 cochineal insects to manufacture a single pound of dye. It's had a part in territorial conquest, international commerce, cosmetic production, food processing, science and art. 

Here we have the most impressive composting toilet I've seen. I think that large tube is an odor alleviator. Brad’s rotating system of large barrels was brilliant. Every cycle the toilet seat is moved to another 50 gallon barrel where carbon is added to the previous (I think. Some kind of carbon? Oh boy, Giddy dumb dumb) to make goodclean compost. There was no smell. Each element was so thoughtful and classy. Made the whole group wanna take a shit right there.

One of the things that creates the stink is the reaction of urine on top of the shit and wood chips and such, so of course within the toilet is a urine redirector! Brilliant. All the pee goes straight to irrigating plants mixing with the other irrigation water.

Here's Brad's outdoor kitchen and two massive rain capture tanks in the back. His kitchen is all found and recycled materials. What it might lack in smoothly opening drawers and it makes up for in charm, efficiency and streamlined boomtooty.

Brad had converted this ‘lil garage into his cottage which he now calls his "Garottage". It's very small and perfectly wonderful. Every window and surface, every material and angle is designed for maximum efficiency of heat and use and fun! Brad seems to have deep respect for the necessity of fun. He said in designing it he wanted to make sure he could have dinner with 10 people. Before leaving town I asked if I could make dinner for 10 people in his place. This dinner table takes up nearly the entirety of his home. We had a lovely time and that was just before Covid news hit hard so likely the last 10 person dinner in that spot for a while. Glad we made it happen.

Gideon's Pandemitainments! 
Article (Read or listen. I listened! But the writing, I am told, is best.)
Closing The Restaurant That Was My Life For 20 Years (link to listen) - Written by Gabrielle Hamilton. Narrated by January LaVoy. (Link to read it). I was blown away and deeply moved by this piece. I thought it poetically explored a most complex experience in a humble and exquisite way. I can't recommend it enough. Keywords: Heartbreaking, Heartlifting, Transformation, Old New York, Future.

Movie
Bernie - Directed by Richard Linklater. True incredible story starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine and Matthew McConaughey. The rest of the cast (some 15 people) are played by themselves from the actual story!!! Unlike anything I've seen. This is streaming on Netflix. Keywords: Funny, Trouble, Mortician, Little League, WTF.

TV
Undone - Directed by Hisko Hulsing starring Rosa Salazar and Bob Odenkirk. Streaming on Amazon, this mind-bending, animated mystery thriller is beautifully shot and painted. It's surprising and in a category of its own. Keywords: Cerebral, Grief, Liquid Magic, Time Dismantlement, Detectiveish. 

Podcast 
Over The Road - Hosted by Long Haul Paul, this podcast explores the lives, customs, stories and challenges of long haul truckers in America. After seeing about a billion of them on the road over the years it's fascinating to know more about what's going on inside that cab. Keywords: Sleeper Cabs, Community, Danger Zone, Lingo.

Game
TAG - by The Ancients. TAG actually stands for touch and go. You'll need at least one other person to play. If space is limited just play while confined. The game might not last very long, but it will likely make you laugh.

What happens when friends wearing suspenders try to embrace in a triple hug, back when triple hugs were legal. Nate, Coire and I in rehearsals for our Edinburgh run of The Gideon and Hubcap Show in 2015. This bit wasn't in the show, but it should have been.

Here's another new song of mine for free. It's called Hot Breakfast and you may have heard it at one of my shows in the past years. It ain't about bacon. Recorded with my friend Dave Harrington featuring my other friend (YES I HAVE TWO!) Raky Sastri on the drums. Soon to be mastered and released on an album that will undoubtedly go triple platinum chrome gold. 

Hope you are all drinking water. I heard that's important in these times... and the other times. 

Love, 

Gideon