Vast arcades of flowers lighting up our lives…

That line came to me in one of my more inspired moments.

Life should be a pinball machine racking up the points. Lights flashing. Bells ringing. Laser lightning zappers blasting on and off. Red and green. Yellow. Purple.

Life should be a damn fine ride. How long did it take us to get from wherever we came from to here? Now? Sitting in front of a miracle called a smartphone.

We give a lot of shit to our phones. We talk about how much we’re on them—maybe just me—and how we’re addicted to social media and scrolling and texting and looking online at empty shit.

But back in the day what was the alternative? TV, newspapers, magazines, comic books, talking on the phone, party lines, reading dumb shit on paper? Radio?

Now yes, the culture has gotten watered-down quite a bit by a lot of mediocre contributions. Everyone thinking they’re the next X that needs to weigh in on everything.

(Including me, perhaps? :>)

But on the flip side, everyone is now free to share with everyone else their creations, their opinions, their epiphanies, their magic.

If they so choose.

What a magic key we have to the entire universe of human endeavor and creation with the smartphone.

Everything, or just about, we’ve ever created, accessible on a little brick of a device smaller than a real brick.

Back to the original premise. Life should be a vast arcade of flowers lighting up our lives. 

It should be magical to the 10th power. Every day. Every fucking miraculous day. Anything short of that is a waste of minutes. A trash can of a day. A day left to the birds on the beach to pick and scream and fight over. A tossed in the trashcan half-eaten sandwich of a day. 

This day, today, should be a fine meal. The finest meal of minutes. It should ring in your heart and soul. It should taste better than any other day you’ve ever had.

Isn’t that what we’re all fighting to do? Everyday? I know I am. It’s always “How can I make this ride called 'Bruce' even better? Faster. Stronger. More juicy. More miraculous. What can I see that’s even more badass than yesterday? What can I attain and accomplish that makes my pinball machine in my soul light up like a vast arcade of miracle flowers?” 

Oh hell. Ok. Anyway, yesterday was one of the best days I’ve ever had. No kidding. I worked. I got home. I cleaned and re-arranged my room. It was magical. Just the simple act of re-arranging my office to fit my feng shui mood of the day made my body tingle and my heart sing.

It was cluttered. Dirty. Filled with stuff everywhere. Not a pigpen, but just bad enough that every time I went in there (where I am now) and sat down to create another masterpiece (!) I felt trapped and claustrophobic.

So I spent hours getting it right. Re-arranging furniture; getting rid of a desk; cleaning, clearing, dusting. Listening to Little Feat, the Grateful Dead, Linda Ronstadt, Frank Zappa…all my old rock favorites. 

Drinking coffee.

It was a great day. My daughter came home from work—she lives with us now. I haven’t seen her much in the past few years due to her work and Covid and not living at home.

My wife found a Where the Wild Things Are purple graphic t-shirt from a discount store. She wore it to her Thursday night Zumba class. She looked so cute. She used to read that book to her son, now 39 fucking years old. I first met him when he was 6. That’s how long me and my lovely have been together.

Anyway, I also dusted off my electric piano/keyboard with 88 fully weighted keys. And played along with a live Prince afterparty stream on Spotify. I got funky.

Lit some incense. And had myself a “time.” Cleaning. Clearing. Re-arranging. Dancing. Singing. Bopping along with Prince and my old rock favorites.

Prince is one funky motherfucker. No other word suffices. It’s not profane. It’s just a strong enough adjective to describe the vast arcades of badass funk running through that little man. We’re about the same height. Well, he was.

I met him once. Or rather was shoved up against a backstage wall with him at his concert in 1982 at the Santa Monica Civic Center.

Yes. Crazy story. But not one for now. 

Great day. Vast arcades of goodness yesterday. Blood sugar great. Coffee great. Family great. Music great. Worked on my book.

Just telling you, whoever you are, to have faith, hope and stay strong. Better days are ahead.

Everyday, if there’s an opportunity, can be a full-tilt boogie pinball magic day.

Vast arcades of flowers, lighting up our lives…