The Memory Remains
I woke up on very little sleep.
No easing into the day. Straight into responsibility.
The birds have been at it for a while now.
The tree above the driveway has turned my vehicle into target practice. The birds have had no mercy. Worse than a paintball participant after a match. Bird droppings everywhere. Marked up. Hit from above.
It reminded me of one of the jokes Robert’s been working on for his comedy set. He says he hates birds because they have the entire sky to operate in, but they’d rather dive in front of cars while you’re driving or hover above your vehicle and unload on it.
That’s been happening.
A few days ago, I got an estimate to cut down the limbs hanging over the driveway, scheduled for next Friday.
The limbs will be gone.
My dad won’t be getting on a ladder trying to handle it himself.
Yesterday I worked on my set. It’s complete.
Perhaps doing a comedy set will help stabilize things. It’s a shift. It’s unfamiliar.
It forces new neural pathways to form. The edge and the darkness are still there. I’m bringing myself to the stage.
I’m not sure if it’s this week or next, but I’m ready to go up and support Robert.
On the drive, upon glancing at my phone, an article spotlighted Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath. Fifty-five years ago today marked the release of Paranoid.
Fifty-five years.
I looked up and saw the cross hanging from the rearview mirror.
It’s Leilani’s car. She said she was leaving the cross there for protection.
I keep it there for protection, like she intended, and to honor her. Leilani should still be here.
My chest hurts physically, not metaphorically.
I miss my mom. She should be here!
Today my firearm is ready for pickup, pending clearance. Now, that's heavy metal!
And speaking of metal, a couple of days ago I created a Life Is a Storm metal anthem for the blog, the podcast, the whole Life Is a Storm world.
“Life Is a Storm,” a thrash metal anthem. It's in the header video. I'm digging it. 🎸🎶🤘
It sounds like a blend between Metallica and Iron Maiden.
Lloyd would’ve loved it. He was really into Iron Maiden. Obsessed. The Wicker Man was his jam the last time we kicked it.
I’ll play it later today to honor him. Lloyd should be a visit or call away.
It didn’t take long to write. I tapped into what I was feeling, and within minutes the lyrics were there. Compiled. Finished.
There’s something I’ve noticed.
I listen to rock and heavy metal. That’s what I gravitate toward. That’s what I absorb.
I remember as a kid listening to rock, metal, glam rock — Ratt, Mötley Crüe, Cinderella, White Lion, Whitesnake, Skid Row, Def Leppard. Those bands were on repeat.
I remember staying up late trying to watch Heavy Metal when it would come out on Showtime. I believe I was around nine years old maybe. It felt like something I wasn’t supposed to be watching that and the scrambled channels. Not because it was extreme, but because it was adult. It had that edge. That tone. That atmosphere. It was metal. And I was drawn to it.
Impressively executed animation for its era.
Heavy Metal (1981) is a Canadian-American adult animated sci-fi/fantasy anthology film based on the Heavy Metal magazine.
Before Metallica entered the picture for me, I was deeply into Ratt. More than Mötley Crüe. Mötley Crüe was massive, but Ratt was my band. While they were trying to build a name as big as Mötley Crüe, they were already big with me. That’s something I don’t say lightly. Both great bands. But I always felt like Ratt didn’t get enough credit. Underrated. Underappreciated.
And then Metallica came along.
All the while, steady in the background, Black Sabbath and Ozzy.
Metal shaped me.
Rock and metal was the vibe in our family. We loved our Ozzy that's for sure!
Mom circa 2010 jamming out!
It took me a while to rediscover who I was after adapting to society, culture, and expectations — the world slowly chiseling away at the real me.
Now I’m stepping back into who I am.
Metal has always been part of my identity.
It’s foundational.
But when I create, it isn’t metal.
I make R&B.
Pop.
Latin Pop/Reggaeton.
Visit my Los Official artist page: http://Los.rocks
I’m not creating metal. But it’s what I like. It’s what I listen to.
Metal is loud. Distorted. Intense. Powerful.
But what comes out of me isn’t that.
It’s different.
I don’t fully understand why.
It seems I’ve already been paying tribute to Black Sabbath and Ozzy over the last few days unknowingly, and that’s what I’ll continue to do — to Ozzy and Black Sabbath, but also to the others I love. The others I miss.
It’s sad that Ozzy is gone.
I just received a text from my father.
“Wow, I feel good, my son. I believe you missed your calling. Thanks for fixing me up with all those meds.”
I told him, “I’ll send you the bill. Just kidding. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
He replied, “Thank you. God bless you.”
I’m just glad he's better. I'm glad I was able to assist.
I’ll keep honoring the ones I miss — and showing up for the ones still here.











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