Aliens among us. #prayingmantis #nofilter (at Red Hook, New York)
Just two detectives who love walks on the beach, fine bourbon and good conversation. #peoplearedetectives #comedy
Feeling very modern after my photo shoot with Modern Drummer magazine. I’m hoping to line up a Modern Cat mag shoot after this. #drums #cats
Cabin floor is stained and clear coated. Now to do 143 other things. Top of list: frame out kitchen counter.
Sand the floor. Stain the floor. This is not a karate kid reference. This was “literally” what we did in the last hours of our weekend.
Installing a wood stove is much more intense and frustrating than I ever imagined! Heat will be nice though.
We have POWER! 520 watts of solar with four deep cell AGM batteries, if you wanna know. #solarpower #offgrid
One year ago today, my 85 year old father passed on. I wrote this eulogy and read it aloud at the funeral. Today I would like to share it…
"Remembering Albert J. Covelli Sr. ~
I want to talk a little bit about emotions. Why we feel sadness when people die. What is happening inside of us? Why do we feel it so
And why sadness? Is it simply because that person won’t be around anymore? To tell us stories? To make us feel loved? To make us feel something? Or is it because we don’t know where they are? And that is scary. The unknown scares us. It always does. They’re not here, so
where are they? Are they lonely? Are they scared? Are they lost?
I don’t believe they are.
I have no idea what happens when our minds shut off and our organs
cease working at the moment of death. What happens to the thoughts and memories that we’ve created over a lifetime. Do they go with you? Do they cross over with you? I don’t know.
My dad was, like many dads, complicated, loving, stubborn, hard
working, funny, rude, loud. He belched a lot. He liked to push
buttons. Emotional buttons, not computer keyboards. My dad never
touched a computer.
He was a tile-setter. That’s how I remember him. He also owned a bar
for a time but I mostly remember him as a tile-setter. He was at job
sites with the other day laborers, working hard, cursing, eating lunch
from a lunchbox. He whistled a lot. He was a very good whistler. He
sang too. He had a lovely voice.
(I sang the line ‘Oh deary, you’re getting older.’)
So, where is he now? Is he lonely? Is he scared? Is he lost?
Loneliness. Fear. Abandonment. Those are human traits; human emotions.
After death, you are no longer human.
You are a spirit.
You are energy.
You join the particles of the universe
and you live on forever.”
Miss you, Pop.