In my previous post about Tinnitus, it is likely I mistook my fair use rights of (what I thought was) a royalty free image of a gentleman’s hand on his ear. Facebook appears to have blocked the previous post url on Facebook Community Standards grounds. I have since cartoonized the image (below left) and added a few doohickeys to make it mine. Creative license I guess is not the same thing as … license to create (?) (Funny I can’t do ellipsis anymore without hearing Stephen Colbert in my head, “Dot, dot, DOT...”) Anyway, This quick follow-up story is essentially an elaborate way of making lemonade out of lemons, so to speak.

Following up on my previous post, Tinnitus: The Silent Killer…Condition.  A week after publishing the article, I visited an ENT about my tinnitus problem. He basically confirmed almost everything I said about it: There is no cure for it. Most natural remedies are nonsense or perform no better than a placebo. The only decent prospects for cure are in the cognitive psychology realm.   The doctor even gave me a referral brochure of the same clinic, the Center of Hearing and Communications mentioned in my previous article. So far, I have no recurrences in the nightmare tinnitus syndrome that woke me in the middle of the night. I do notice the pitches…

In recent weeks, I have begun to encounter something in the background of my life that I long ignored, tinnitus.  And no, it is not because I recently saw the remake of “A Star is Born”. The British tend to pronounce it, “TIN-i-tis “. Like an incidental comment over a cup of tea. “I have this vexing TIN-i-tis while reading. Like a car alarm vibrating in my skullll… Frightfully annoying, my old chap” Americans (or perhaps New Yorkers, since we don’t know anything about anybody else) tend to pronounce it, tin-AYY-tis. (Think Fred Stoller) “So I’ve got this ringing in the ears thing? You know I think it’s called tin-AYY-tis? Yeah, I think I want to…

Not sure what is possessing me to write about this particular topic and solve but …what the hell. I’m sure many of you have just accepted this Windows printing quirk and threw your hands up the air.

This morning I woke up at 430. It’s as if Doug was waking me up to write something. Death is a weird thing. It’s something you push to the back of your mind – because the reality of it is overwhelming. I think about Doug a lot, replaying his solos and the things he said to me in our short time together in my mind. Over and over. And his death, bringing his body to a hearse in front of Montmartre Club in Denmark and having it drive off. An unbelievable aching sorrow that doesn’t go away unless I just put it out of my mind. It just doesn’t get…

  Hi Folks, As is becoming customary for me, I’m taking this week off to just chill on the beaches of Florida. So as quick as I can put this one together, just dropping a note to pay homage to the master, Jimmy Raney on his birthday.

At this time of year when the many Raney birthday’s emerge: James Raney (Doug’s son): Aug 3rd Jimmy Raney: Aug 20 Jon Raney: Aug 22 Talia Raney (My daughter): Aug 26 Doug Raney: Aug 29 What is it about August? It makes me reflect on my family, our lives, our legacy and what all of us will do for the remainder of it. Jimmy Raney continues to be a guiding light and inspiration to many, dumbfoundingly underappreciated (also by many) and a bar of musical achievement that may never be reached by anyone in the future. Still, in the time I have left on this earth there is still much…

It’s still hard to believe he’s gone less than 4 months. All of us his family, friends and fans still mourn his passing. But let us mark this moment on Doug’s date of birth  with the joy and excitement he gave all of us. Listen to your favorite record and groove to one of his great solos. I’m on a vacation right now as per usual at end of August. Working on a transcription of Doug’s ultra-swinging solo to The Touch of Your Lips. 1 chorus done so far. This is the entry music to the website as most of you know. Should be finished up and made available as…

Hey Folks, In this year’s homage to my father, jazz master Jimmy Raney (1927-1995) I address a few issues at once. First, “Happy Birthday Dad!”(I am now waving up to him) Second, The Jimmy Raney book. (I am now looking down at the floor, sheepishly) So, those of you that know me, waited patiently as I hinted and hinted on this book and it never came to pass. AND—

Sometimes I think technology is out to get me… Seriously:) So my phone is really messed up. It’s clicking on its own, dialing people, enabling programs, and moving my little shortcuts to places unknown. After fighting with Verizon to get me a replacement phone, I’m trying to deal with getting some local files off the phone that I’m going to lose when I replace it. Problem is – like many people affected by the recent Android Marshmallow update, file transfer mode is disabled now and there is nothing that can be done to get this phone to switch to anything other than charge mode.

It’s been over 6 weeks since my brother’s passing and although there is still the unreality of Doug really being gone, I do feel acceptance setting in and life – more or less – returning to normal. All the ideas I had that I discussed with Doug:  of helping turn his life around, fixing his teeth, finally getting to do a recording with him, devoting a page where he could answer to his fans and give music tips, now all of this is impossible. So what now? And now the question facing me is, what do I do with my life? And when I refer to life what is the thing that it…

Doug Raney (1956-2016) Doug was a very private person. My nature is (was) to protect him from public scrutiny and the airing of all the things that happened to him in his life. Obviously, this is just not realistic. News travels at the speed of light in our day and age so many of you have heard the news. It is unfortunately true.

Most sons think their Dads are the greatest. The tallest, the smartest, etc. I remember one kid I knew back in Louisville who used to say, “My day-yad is taller than ‘nyone. He’s six-tway-elve”.  Now I remember the kid’s father. Pretty tall but he wasn’t Shaq, ok?  The important thing I guess was that he felt like he was. Now of course me, I always thought my Dad was the world’s best guitarist, by a mile. Thing was though, he was and plenty of people, unrelated to me – from novice guitarists to his famous peers  – believed he was. Imagine that for a kid. And they still say it. Incredible. And he is…