March 27, 2021

Aging Out

Aging Out

Before my blood was even cold, there was a time when time itself seemed endless. Not that I respected this abundance; far from it, I tested my limits, pushed the boundaries, coloured outside the lines, and actively sought ways to be more self destructive.

When did this aging out begin?

Was it the night that so gradually became morning when I had “lost” my virginity?  Hours of talking and touching, until that moment when reserves finally dissolved, and when we moved to that next level, it was over in a matter of seconds.  

Was it the day I moved out of my parent’s house, saying goodbye to my childhood, moving into a room in a dark, furnished rooming house, filled with antiques and young actors and a man down the hallway who yelled at all hours, trying to silence the voices in his head? 

Was it the thirty days later when I moved back home for a month, until I could find my own apartment?  Was it the night when walking home after picking up some late night Chinese Fast Food, I was assaulted and the blood, formerly running in the veins in my head, was now running down my nose from my eye, my chin from my nose, my chin to my shirt and the sidewalk.  Head wounds always seem so dramatic. 

Was it the first night I went home with the girl who is now the woman I have lived with for so many years?  Or the night I betrayed our trust, or the night I betrayed our trust or the night I betrayed.....

Was it the first forgiveness or the last?  Was it the day John Lennon died, or the night my father died, or my eldest brother or my mother?  Or all the many friends who have gone from this one world to the next?  How every morning I hesitate for a brief moment before plugging into the internetherworld, because I just sense today might be another one of “those days”?

Was it the day in my thirties when looking in the mirror, I did not recognize myself for the first time? How many times since that day, another 30 years of not recognizing the new face, the one that ever so gradually changes? 

How many chins can a man have until it becomes one too many? How much wattle before the chin itself disappears?  How the hair, once his pride and joy, slowly recedes, now thinner, losing its colour,  going flat, like a gin tonic left over from the previous night.  No fizz, no flavour, just watered down ice that has melted, and the diluted drink becomes one with room temp.  The soggy lime has lost its sharpness, and is losing its form, the tang a memory, the bitter notes are all that is left.

Was it the day he married or the day his daughter was born, or any of her moments and milestones- first foods, first steps, first words, first day of school, first time she swam, or read, or called him, a little drunk, wanting a ride home, or the high school graduation or university graduation, or the day she first moved out, and moved back, and moved out, and moved back....

Was it his first job, or first raise, or the first time he quit, or called in sick, or all the days, work days, careers, congratulations, the dark days, the dark years, the dogs, the dark dogs, the dark dogs of depression, his first heart attack, the day he turned 30, 40, 50, 60, tick tick tick..... tick.

Was it his first band, or first band breakup, or second band, or second band breakup, or third band, or second band reunion, or second band breakup, or the many years of not playing music, or the first time he played the Big rooms or the last time?

Or was it the morning, this morning, as he sat and drank coffee and thought about aging, only to realize he is still here.  While many are gone, he remains, and he is still in love and still with the love of his life, and still able to experience more days with his growing daughter, and the little dog who remains,  when all the others died.  

How aging out is a long process, and who knows if the glass is half full or half empty?  It is still a glass.  And he is damned lucky.  So much lucky.

March 22, 2021

We Now Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming


Somebody changed the clocks while we were wrestling with our nerves all night.

It happened so fast it was almost like it didn’t happen at all.

We were waiting for direction, reluctant to change what we thought we already knew.

They said we would have to wipe the slate clean to allow room for a creative solution.

Please try to understand. 

The old ways don’t work anymore because they just don’t sit right.


Holding it together has never been easy, especially when you’ve been up all night

You wake sleep deprived because your mind will not shut up.

You obsess over bad decisions, bad hair, bad skin, why even bad is more bad than usual.


Who has the script,  you hear someone say?


Clearly we have all forgotten our lines.

Do you hold the baton with menacing abandon as you apply the rouge?

Is there something about the other night that is still haunting you?


Outside, the sky is nothing like you thought it would be.

Everywhere we see faces melting as the rain pools on slouched shoulders,

Buttons fly off frayed sweaters, and all the zippers break at the same time, 

split from the bottom up.

You were barely able to pull it when it snagged on something tender.


You hear your inside voices unspooling.

You are fooling no one.

Your shaking hands know better as you raise the hot spoon cautiously to your hungry lips.


We are drowning in acronyms. No one speaks in complete sentences.

WTF! FYI- I feel like going AWOL.  LOL.

Does anything make any sense anymore?

Can you explain why a foreign alphabet is floating in this suspicious broth?

Did you perceive a bitter note on the finish?

Did something sharp catch in your throat as you tried to swallow?

Does your stomach conjure a mess of emotions that slowly is creeping up your esophagus, hell bent on escape? 

Meanwhile on the tip of your nose, a saline drop slowly gathers steam.

It is growing heavy with the weight of having to hold your nose, while your struggle for air.

The suspense is killing us here.....

Finally, it crashes into the soup, just as your spoon dips in for another mouthful.


The audience shifts in their seats. Have they lost the plot here?  

Do we have to go back to the beginning just to find our own voices?

No one understands what they are seeing tonight,

but allow me to speak for the crowd,

“They are anxiously waiting for the action to resume”

Any casual observer can see

They just want it all to be over.


The drugs have had their intended effect, calming the restless nature of the narrative.

No one even remembers why they are here, 

or where they were going before it all began,

The random confusion makes perfect sense to the actors rehearsing their bows.


In the cover of darkness, the audience has ghosted the play, exiting before the actor utters the line that everyone had been waiting to hear....



March 10, 2021

The Judys MORE


The Judys second album, MORE was released in September 2020.  

Is it funny when we share
everything we do or care?
Dust is floating in the air
fingers running through my hair....

Software's eating me alive
I must connect or I will die
Something is not right
with this modern appetite
We assume what we consume
and there is no private room 
They're digging every tomb
Brush the dead off with a broom

Something in the air

Is that a bird 
is that a drone?
They're listening to you on your phone
You think I'm paranoid?
I'm GOD!
I think your algorithms flawed
Five Eyes they want 5-G
Just not the Chinese variety
Is it Huawei or My Way?
Another train wreck on the highway

Something in the air

Every mother's KGB
King Tut's butt for all to see
For we are all the CIA
We're Edward Snowden's dna

As we climb the slippery slope
Fact checking things on Snopes
and everybody's high on coke
and everybody's in on the joke
Ha Ha Ha

Something in the air


He keeps his feelings bottled up
'cause he's that kind of man
Gold card in the old boys club
yeah you're that kind of man
Over 50 but he never grew up
Yeah you're that kind of man
#MeToo was just a hiccup
Yeah you're that kind of man

What kind of man are you?

You're just a man 
Just another goddam man
And I've known so many men before
My God, you're just one more
Another goddam man
Another goddam man
Another goddam man.

What kind of man are you?

Another goddam man.

GOIN' OUT WEST   (Waits/Brennan)


Black Betty licks her lips with the devil's dust
In a hole in the back where the mirror's are cracked
and the razor's lined with rust
She can turn the clock back, make a white man black
Then you really lose control
You can cry all night, but you'll never win the fight
when Black Betty's got your soul

Welcome to New York
You won't be staying here too long
Forgot all the stupid words
to that old fashioned drug song.

Black Betty cuts a line through the crowd just like a cat
With her nails so sharp, like a needle to your heart
She makes the mirror ball flat
Well it all gets blurry, and your throat gets kinda of furry
and you think you might have ate the cat
Black Betty holds your hand, while you're holding up your end
and death is like your only friend.

Welcome to New York
You won't be staying here too long
Forgot all the stupid words
to that old fashioned drug song.

Just another old fashioned drug song.


Steve brought the knives and the Lebanese blonde
We used to shoot bullfrogs down by the pond
Rennie's 64 Impala with the red insides
We'd roll the windows up and crank the heat up high
In the summer we would cruise down by the pool
where those girls in their bikinis man they were so cruel
We had Aerosmith on 8-track
Dream On in the front and girls in the back.

And we were fucked up then
and life was just a bore
We were doing what we want
and we just want more...More MORE MORE!

Big Pete got smoked one night in the park
Crazy Joe got a gun and shot him in the dark
Big Pete was just trying to get his life back on track
And Steve's Mom always wondered how her knives got black.

And we were fucked up then
and life was just a bore
We were doing what we want
and we just want more...More MORE MORE!

Fucked up
Fucked up

Well we were fucked up then
and life was just a bore
We were doing what we want
and we just want more...More MORE MORE!

Baby's got a bucket and she's putting on some pudge
She's got a brand new drug, calls it Tattoo Fudge
You don't have to go to circus
to find yourself a clown
Just turn on the TV, see what's going down.

The Whole World's On Drugs

You can roll it , you can lick it, you can find it on the ground
Some people falling in love, some people falling down
Some people living on the streets, some people living on the edge
Some people holding hands when they jump off the ledge.

The Whole World's On Drugs

Sugar makes the world go round.
(Tell it to me, sugar)
Sugar makes the world go round
(Sell it to me sugar)

The Whole Word's On Drugs


When all the good men die
Even the funny man has to cry
Sometimes it's funny the people who live
Sometimes it's funny the people who die

I used to be the Last Good Man
that's what they called me, that's what I am
I got so high, one day I just fell
You picked me up, put me back on the shelf.

I never knew what I was good for
I guess I could have been better
I guess I was just best before
before we started keeping score.

Remember Jonah and the Whale
Inside that fish, he found betrayal
Betrayal is a snake it has two ends
One chews your soul, one choose your friends.

I never knew what I was good for
I guess I could have been better
I guess I was just best before
before we started keeping score.

Good friends come, and good friends go
Guess I was just the last to know
The last to know, the first one to leave
What you did, I still don't believe.

I never knew what I was good for.....

All songs by The Judys (c) 2020. All rights reserved.

Pete Feend, Scott Fletcher, Taylor Little, Dano-5-O, Shelley Preston,  Dennis Mills.
Mixed and Engineered by Dan Ponich
Produced by The Judys
Mastered by Philip Bova Shaw
Cover by Dennis Mills and Chantelle Normoyle