Bill's Rambling's page is where you'll find, well, stuff Bill just feels compelled to mumble on about.  Hey, the Gulf Streamers won't listen - they just say, "Yeah, whatever, sing", but maybe you'll find the God guided wanderings of Bill's life good entertainment!

Back To Beach (Shower)

For those who don't know, I live in New England - Plymouth, Massachusetts to be exact.  For eight to nine months out of the year, we experience what is arguably some of the least desirable weather in which the human animal can live.  However, when the calendar moves to summer, this part of the world becomes God's country.

From the beaches to the mountains, sailboats to fresh lobster, New England is the place to be in the summer.  Here on Cape Cod, you're never too far from sand, sea and great weather.  As a result, most folks pretty much move outdoors for the months of June, July and August.  One of my favorite outdoor "summer places" is our outdoor shower. 

If you have an outdoor shower, you know that it's a bit like having your own tropic waterfall attached to your home or summer cottage.  The funny thing is that no two outdoor showers seem to be the same.  For example, in ours, we decided an oversize, rainfall shower head was imperative.  Twelve inches of pouring water cascades down from two feet above one's head. 

Next came the layout, which we felt needed to include, not only space to shower, but a dry area for clothes and changing.  This way we can slip into the shower after the beach or pool and emerge dressed for the next adventure.

The inner walls are lined with antique, summer oriented tin signs that call from ice cream shops, seafood shacks and other seasonal haunts.  All of these are augmented with tropical license plates, old oars and seashells from our beach.  Cool slate plate-stones guard the foot from the crushed stone that allows wash water to trickle to its new home.

Finally, the rustic wood that grants personal privacy, is buttressed by colorful hydrangeas - a flowering plant that is particularly popular here on Cape Cod. If you've got the space, I'd say build one of these great structures.  If you do, maybe you too will find yourself shutting off the water to your indoor version as we do.

Cheers!

Home In A Bag

"If you travel for a living, and you do it for a long enough time, you can get so good at it that you never really have a home."

James Taylor

In the pirate days, each ocean-bound outlaw had his own Swag in which he would stash his share of the ill-gotten bootie.  In Australia and New Zealand, a swag is a bundle of belongings rolled in a traditional fashion to be carried by a foot traveler in the bush.  Decades of global adventures have lead me into the development of my own swag.  I call it my "Toy Swag".

 

My Toy Swag is my way of bringing a piece of home along with me when I travel so that I don't get homesick and, as former Boy Scout, it lets me live up to my oath to "be prepared" for whatever gets tossed my way.

The swag itself takes on various forms, from backpacks to suitcases.  The contents, however, are drawn out of a checklist that I actually took the time to assemble on a word file.  I'm a big fan of pre-packing check lists because it lets me stop and think about everything I'll need for the latest adventure.  Running around, grabbing things off shelves and out of drawers like some crazed Fear Factor contestant, never really appealed to me and usually led to forgetting some important component.

So, what's in the Toy Swag?  What do I hold dear and find that I can not live without?  While not everything accompanies me on ever trip, here's what I've gotta have.

Reading

Bible/Small NLV - I'm a Christian and this indispensable book gives me my fix and keeps me on the eternal high that I accepted years ago.

General Literature - I like books that are written about traveling.  From Bill Bryson to Jimmy Buffett, bring it on.

Song Writing Gear - There's always the need for the need for items such as those inexpensive theme books you used to use back in school, a rhyming dictionary and the like.  To date, the US copyright office houses over 25 "Bill Mallia" songs that are performed regularly at venues around the map.

Reading Glasses - One of the gifts I got back on my 44th birthday was the first signs of presbyopia.  I'm sportin' the 1.5's these days.

Guitar

Depending on the travel, I'm always accompanied at least by my trusty Baby Taylor, Hawaiian Koa back and sides, Sitka Spruce top, housed in a sturdy SKB Case.

Music

Gotta' have the mp3 player loaded with an odd mix of Contemporary Christian Music (CCM), Bob Marley, Great Big Sea and Jimmy Buffett!

Fishin’

Fly Rod - Temple Fork, 8 weight, four piece, graphite fly rod.

Fly Reel - Redington 9/10 weight

Waist Gear Bag - My own hand-tied flies, tippet, fishing pliers, fishing glasses and the all important first aid kit.

Runnin' Gear

A life time of running, including three Boston Marathons, taught me that breathing and exercise are good. So, along come Asics Gel DS Trainers and a set of "sink washable" running clothes.

Beach

It's amazing how little room a bathing suit, sun glasses and flip flops take up.  I also travel with a watch that looks "businessy" but doesn't have a lot of flash since sea critters like barracuda, etc. tend to view silver/gold watches as bait fish.  Now that I think of it, when I travel may be the one and only time I even wear a watch!


Survival Gear

Breath mints, ear plugs, eye shades, travel alarm clock, small folding toothbrush and Ibuprofen, since only one tablet lasts 6 hours verses Tylenol that requires two tablets for 4 hours of relief from "what ails you".

As I said, all of the toys don't make into the swag for every adventure, but throw in my favorite teddy bear and, well, just about anywhere on the planet can feel a lot like home!

Cheers!

Snow = Fun

At least, that's the way I'm trying to look at it!  My days have made me an odd mix.  I was born and raised in Rockland/Owl's Head Maine where they have July and winter, have spent most my adult life traveling to the "little latitudes" and currently reside in the middle of it all on Cape Cod.  It doesn't appear that God has any plans to allow me to change my "permanent address" (I always find humor in that term) soon, so, in traditional style, I strive to make lemonade out of perceived lemons.

There is something about the snow that takes one's mind off the cold.  The first twenty years of my life saw me as a skier - racer, cruiser, whatever, I was sliding down a hill.  I've logged more hours ripping over the headwalls of Sugarloaf USA than I can ever remember.  These days I'm offended by the price of a full day lift ticket at ski areas and the drive from Cape Cod to pay those exorbitant fees dims my desire even further.

Last year, my wife and I bought a matched set of Polaris Indy 600 Touring snowmobiles.  We look "oh so married" when we ride them (either that or we look like we rented them).  Buying a snowmobile, snow blower or snow plow is a sure way to guarantee no snow for that season. Such is not the case in this second year of snowmobile ownership.  This winter, we've been getting copious amounts of snow and that, in good ol' Yankee terms, constitutes a "good" winta'"

So far, we've had quite a few chances to ride our touring snowmobiles this season.  Unlike most "sleds" that are made to zip around under one person, ours hold two and, like a Cadillac, float along for long distances quite easily. 

My favorite trips are the ones that include overnights at quaint, north country cabins.  Many of these trailside locations were built back in the 1920's and exude quintessence. 

The trail systems in "snowmobile country" are really something too.  They are extensive and marked as well as any Interstate highway.  Not only are the routes well marked, but directions to food, fuel and rest are all outlined for the modern rider.   On top of that, the trails are groomed by large snow-cats that work the snow into a ribbon of endless perfection. 

It's really all quite an operation and something unique to the northern climes.  So, as it seems God has me stationed here, I might as well have fun until that transfer to a place with weather warm enough to support a palm tree comes through!


Cheers!

Is An "Ewok" A Breed Of Dog?

What's the difference between a "mutt" and a "designer dog"? Generally, a mutt is of uncertain ancestry while a designer dog has documented purebred ancestry, and one knows for sure what it is. 

Why do I bring this up?  Well, "Splash The Beach Colored Dag", our oh, so purebred yellow lab now has a "little sister" - "Bear" (as in Teddy). Bear was "designed" from two parts Poodle, one part Shih-Tzu and one part Yorkshire Terrier.  The end result is a smart, cuddle dog with the heart of a lion.

So, back to the designer dog thing.  A "designer" dog (as the media has labeled them) is a cross between two or more purebred dogs. A purebred dog is one that has been bred over many generations to breed true. Meaning each puppy that is born looks and has the same temperament and characteristics as one another.

Purebred dogs are beneficial in that, when you buy a purebred dog you know what you are getting. You know how big your puppy will grow and you know basically what type of temperament will have and care the dog will need. You know the dog's limits, whether it is capable of agility, hunting, search and rescue, police work, herding, flock guardian, or is just simply as cuddly as can be.  You have a pretty good idea if the dog will be good with your kids, you know if it will have a tendency to wander or if it will stick close to home.  With a designer dog, unlike the mutt that arrived as a result of the neighbor's dog paying an unwanted visit, the mix is governed by the ingredients (sounds like baking a cake). 

Bear was born in central Michigan on 6 September and made her way to Cape Cod via United Airlines (in true travel industry form).  So far, she has learned about going "out", what a walk on the leash is and what it feels like to be dressed up in my daughter's American Girl Doll fuzzy-pink bathrobe.  At 4 pounds (Splash is 95), she has a bit of growing to do before she hits her full-blown mega weight of 10 pounds.  By then I'm thinking she'll be ready to hit the road for a good, long motorcycle ride (that's a topic for another day)!

Cheers!

On A Steel Horse I Ride

In my mind, a man and his motorcycle is the modern version of a wild west cowboy and his horse .  It's the freedom of flying through the wind and of hitting an unknown "trail",  It's the whole package right down to the danger (actually, on the books it's more dangerous to be a pedestrian)!  Good stuff!

It's been about twenty years since I last saddled up my own steel horse, but all of that changed recently with the purchase of a forest green and ivory Honda Shadow 750cc American Classic Edition (A.C.E.) Deluxe.  Founded in classic motorcycle styling, this stallion not only cruises, but packs and tours to places far and wide, as well. This horse is 100% American too. That's right, American made. From the steel for the frame and gas tank, to the fasteners used to hold the bike together. Right down to the paint. In all, there are more than a hundred suppliers from all over the United States that supply the ingredients delivered to the Honda of American Manufacturing (affectionately known as "HAM") plant in Marysville, Ohio, to make the new Shadow. But the styling and sound come straight out of Milwaukee.

The bike is powered by a 745cc, liquid-cooled, 52 degree, V-twin engine - more than enough to power my 174 pound frame and passenger anywhere in North America.  At an idle, the new Shadow sounds almost indistinguishable from a stock-pipe equipped Hog - it even sounds better since Honda water-cooled the ACE, there is less gear noise offending the EPA's noise meter, so they got to make the exhaust note significantly louder than any stock Harley. (Since the EPA's restrictions are based on the bike's total noise emissions, a noisier motor requires a quieter exhaust system to be legal.)

Watching the bike idle is a visceral experience: The motor, with its blacked-out fins (that hide the water cooling) and chromed valve covers, literally shakes in its boots as the rubber motor mounts do their best to absorb the motion. The shaking finds its way to the handle bars, also rubber mounted, through the bar's long, triple clamp mounted risers, which have the look and feel of billet aluminum. Blip the throttle and the bike literally jumps to life.

Throw a leg over the bike and settle into the wide, contoured seat, and you're sitting in - not on - the ACE. The forward-mounted foot controls aren't so far forward as to be awkward or uncomfortable and the wide droopy bars come back to meet the rider's hands. The controls, both the clutch and throttle, operate with a light touch and the turn signals are push-to-cancel. The mirrors are good for more than just checking your hair - the widely spaced, rectangular units provide an excellent, mostly vibration-free view of what's coming up from behind.

Despite all the H-D inspired pieces, there is no mistaking the fact that this is a superior Honda. Fit and finish is top quality, and nobody can do chrome as well as Honda.

They did a remarkable job of hiding the radiator between the front down-tubes; if you don't know it's there, you won't notice it.  So, it's time to hit the trail, savor the days of autumn before winter's winds blow and get back to making a motorized ride a recreational experience again!  Just think of me ridin' off into the sunset with the rest of the cowboys!

Cheers!

 

At "Studio" On The Farm

As you may know, the world headquarters of my label Left Shore Records, is located on the shoulder of Cape Cod - Plymouth, Massachusetts.  However, the official Left Shore Records building is not some characterless, mirrored window office building that one my find in some big city.  No, instead it is located on a small New England oceanside farm.

Knowing that all good farms need a name, we christened ours "Five Fathom Farm".  Since we are in a nautical part of the world, we felt a name that echoed the sea breeze we enjoy was appropriate.  Five Fathom Farm came from the fact that there is a thirty foot difference from the very front of the property to the back line.  A "fathom" is a nautical measurement equal to six feet.  Six goes into thirty five times and, as a result, a name was born.

While Five Fathom Farm is not the largest farm on the planet, it sports all the icons that any good rural establishment should.  There's the carefully groomed "dooryard" (a Maine term for the lawn immediately around your house), a sprawling field, which is interrupted only by the substantial garden and apple orchard.  The forested section is split by a bright white scallop shelled, private road that leads to the property's south gate and the back approach to our little estate.  The tractor trail, lined with snowmobile trail markers, runs the circumference of the farm and has proven to be a nice running/walking path as well as a way for hauling firewood and kids on hayrides.

Of course, no farm would be complete without a good dog and animals.  "Splash The Beach Colored Dag" is half teddy bear and half Labrador Retriever.  Squirrels and rabbits shudder at the mere sight of her happy face and wagging tail.  And then there are "the girls" - hen chickens to be exact.  Five Fathom Farm is home to some of the planet's most spoiled chickens.  They free range over the entire acreage eating what they will (no bug or worm is safe) and enjoying layer pellets, corn, oyster shell and copious vegetarian food scraps from the farmhouse door.  At night they all cuddle into their spacious hen mansion where the automatic timer shuts off both the lights and their own chicken radio at bed time.  In return for this great care, we eat their young - actually their unfertilized eggs - no rooster on this farm.

I know there are a lot of people that love the fast pace of the urban scene, but me, I'll take a pass on the cubical cities of the world.  I'll opt instead for a walk to the studio in my aloha shirt and jeans, coffee in hand and the wind breezing through the chimes hanging from the outdoor shower.  That's life at the studio on the farm!

Cheers!

 
 

 

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