mental health

🅻🅸🆅🅴 Music & Mental Health: The Return of Jex Russell THIS MORNING on Grab A Stack of Rock

SPECIAL TIME!

GRAB A STACK OF ROCK With Mike and the Mad Metal Man

Episode 107: Ask Jex Anything! Music and Mental Health

Music and mental health:  what’s the connection?  Quite a lot actually!  But let’s get right to the point.  This episode is “Ask Jex Anything”.  You may have noticed that my Friendly Frenchman Co-host has not been on the show as much as he was during the 2023 summer season.  Jex is happy to be back, at least for now, and to talk about what he’s been up to in the meantime.  Jex will be taking all questions live!

We will also be discussing mental health and music.  Music is essential to the mental health of guys like Jex and I, and we are happy to open up. For the first time, I will discuss a chapter of my story that I have never talked about publicly.  We hope to reduce stigma and to encourage healthy ways of dealing with life…like listening to music.

Because this is Grab A Stack of Rock, we have some music to show.  I have chosen some special albums from my collection to discuss, along two themes:  songs about battles with mental health, and artists with their own battles to fight.

Don’t miss this special live episode.  Ask Jex anything…ANYTHING!  See you this morning in the comments!

Saturday July 5 at 8:00 AM EST, 9 AM Atlantic.  Enjoy on YouTube or Facebook.

TWO SHOW WEEKEND! 50 Years of Iron Maiden, and the return of Jex Russell on Grab A Stack of Rock 🅻🅸🆅🅴 !

I am pleased to announce that Jex Russell is returning to the Grab A Stack of Rock live arena this Saturday morning.  In addition to that, Harrison Kopp and Mike will still be doing Episode 16 of 50 Years of Iron Maiden on Friday night, at our usual time.  Here are the details.

Friday July 4 at 7:00 P.M. E.S.T.: Grab A Stack of Rock Episode 106
50 Years of IRON MAIDEN episode 16: Live At Donington & A Real Live Dead One
Mike and Harrison will tackle FOUR CDs of live Iron Maiden…live!

Saturday July 5 at 8:00 A.M. E.S.T.: Grab A Stack of Rock Episode 107
Ask Jex Anything! Music and Mental Health
Jex Russell returns to Grab A Stack of Rock for his first full live episode since fall 2024. Jex has had a lot of “Where have you been?” questions and he is eager to answer. We’ll be talking about music, mental health, and the importance of taking little moments for yourself. Mike will talk about his own journey with a chapter of his tale that he has never told before.

Don’t miss these two crucial live episodes of Grab A Stack of Rock!

Find us on YouTube!

 

 

#1153: The Roots of Trauma

STOPARRET

Serious stuff ahead.

 

RECORD STORE TALES #1153: The Roots of Trauma

I don’t remember the photo session, but I remember the picture clearly.  My red, white and black shirt is what I recall the most easily about this picture.  I couldn’t remember my age or what I looked like in the photo, but I remember that shirt.  This portrait was on display at my parents’ house for many years, along with others depicting my sister and I as children.

When I saw this picture again, for the first time in probably decades, I was shocked.  I looked into my own face and I read my own mind.

I still make that face.  know every angle of the eyes and the curvature of the mouth.  I am intimately familiar with that face.  It is the face of anxiety and fear.  If you have ever seen me make that face, it wasn’t a good day.

You can’t blame my parents.  Back then, nobody knew any better.  Baby was crying, baby didn’t want his photo taken.  So you ignored the crying, you sat the baby down, and you let the photographer take the photo.  There were going to be lots more photos.  He’d better get used to this.

I look at the picture and I don’t see a baby crying for his first portrait.  I see the fear and the need to be understood.  I was always “shy” around strangers.  You can imagine how I felt, with this strange photographer and in this weird place with a shag carpet beneath me and a dreary grey background.  My parents were probably frustrated that they were paying for this photo, and this baby keeps crying.  I can read that face.  It’s the face that says, “I’m in distress here and why isn’t anybody listening to me?”

My whole life, I have felt like people don’t listen to me.  They either don’t understand what I’m trying to convey or they just won’t listen.  I have had dreams about this going back to when I was a kid.  Trying to tell people what I’m feeling or what I need, and being dismissed.  Eventually the frustration at not being understood boils over to screaming.  To me, there is nothing worse than not being heard.  To this day, sometimes the only person who understands what I’m saying and feeling is Jen.

In this picture, I see a need.  I clearly wanted the hell out of there, and back home where felt safe and sound.  I needed someone to hug me, tell me it was alright, and it will be over in just a minute.  I needed someone to touch me and say, “I know you’re scared, this is all new to you.  I know that camera and all that stuff looks scary.  I know that person is a stranger, but if you need me I’m right here and I won’t let anything happen to you.”  I needed that time being reassured.  I can see it in my face.  It’s as clear as words on paper.

This picture makes me feel a lot of things.  I see my entire future laid about before me.  So many fears.  Going to school, learning to drive, living alone…that’s the face of someone who doesn’t want those things.  He wants to stay home with his mom and dad, where he would be safe and surrounded only by familiar things and people who love him.  This is the face of someone who is so uncomfortable that he is questioning why mom and dad are doing this to him.  This is the face of someone who feels utterly alone inside.

It was over in minutes and forgotten, but I can’t help but feel that seeds were being sown.

There’s nobody to blame.  Nobody knew any better.  I couldn’t even talk, let alone understand all this terror I was feeling.  I couldn’t have said “That person is a stranger and something about them is bothering me, I don’t know what those things are, I don’t like being up on this table covered with a shag carpet, and can someone please just tell me what is happening right now?”  All I could do was cry.

I hate being this way.  I hate the constant anxiety that nibbles away at me every day.  I hate the feeling of not being understood.  It’s amazing to think that I can see all this in my baby picture.

 

First Lunchwalk of the Year! Aching Joints, Happy Head

The clouds have parted, the sun has returned…and so have I, to my old lunchwalk route!

I have two routes.  The shorter one is about 25 minutes.  The longer one is about twice that.  Against my better judgement, I chose the long route.  No pain no gain?  I was definitely in pain!  My right leg specifically.  My knee and hip were groaning towards the end.  I pushed through, increasing my speed as much as I could handle, in order to get back and drink something cold and fizzy.

I decided to go the opposite direction as I usually went last year.  If you recall, I was getting really tired of the same route last year.  As usual, I took pictures.  I really like the one bag of dog poo that someone tried to throw over the fence into the work yard, but got tangled in a tree.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll do the short route!

#1105: Happy Winter Stories Vol. 2 – Snowforts With Bob

RECORD STORE TALES #1105: Happy Winter Stories Vol. 2 – Snowforts With Bob

A sequel to #972:  Snowfort Hippies

There is a saying that the indigenous peoples of the North have umpteen words for “snow”.  While there may be a kernal of truth to that, kids living in Canada know that there are in fact lots and lots and lots of different kinds of snow.

There’s wet globby snow that melts as soon as you pick it up.  There’s packing snow, perfect for snowballs.  There is light powdery snow that won’t clump together.  On one particular winter day in the early 80s, we had hard brick-like snow that allowed us to build an awesome snowfort.

Together with my sister, Bob Schipper and I ventured out one weekend morning with the intent to turn this snow into an igloo.  An igloo of sorts.  We didn’t have the snow or skill to do the roof properly, so we cheated a little.  My sister had a “Mr. Turtle Pool” — a green plastic pool about four or five feet wide.  Flipped upside down, that would make a perfect roof for our igloo.

Side note:  I keep thinking about how good our parents were to us.  We had everything we needed.  Turtle pools, bikes, video games, and most of all, freedom.  Freedom to make a mess of their yard and build this igloo right in the middle of the front lawn.

Snowpants on!  Boots, gloves, scarves, hats, and we were ready.  We had kiddie shovels at the ready.  The three of us started in the morning, and kept going for what seemed like the whole day.  Kids lose track of time, and moments become frozen.  We didn’t wear watches, and I rarely knew what time it was.  We just went out and didn’t come back in until we were bored.

Bob and I began collecting large brick-shaped clumps of snow, and assembling them in a circle – the rough outline of our igloo.  Then we began stacking them, and packing the gaps with more snow.  The snow was not easy to work with that day, and we frequently had to rebuild what we had started, but eventually, layer by layer, our igloo began taking shape.  We left a gap for the door and tested our construction to make sure there was room for three.  Time for a break.  We had a little shelf on one of the inner walls, perfect to hold a couple soda pop cans or drink boxes.   Up and up we built.  Good snow was in short supply as we got higher and higher, and we eventually capped it off with the turtle pool.

We were so proud of our little igloo!  We called mom and dad outside to look.  Unfortunately, they didn’t take any pictures.  It wasn’t like today.

The three of us huddled inside the igloo and relaxed after a day of hard work!  Soon it would be dark and we would have to go inside, but there was always tomorrow!  In the meantime, we sipped our drinks and enjoyed our fort.  We’d pretend there was a roaring storm outside and we were taking shelter from the elements.

The best kind of fun was the kind we made on our own.  We let our creativity flow, we burned our energy up, and we let our imaginations take us wherever it could.  Winter offered opportunities different from summers.  You could build a fort in the summer.  That was the exclusive property of the cold months.  It enabled us to use a different side of our creativity.  Later on, Bob studied architecture.  Take from that what you will.

 

#1095: Mental Health Plan: Gutterballs! (Jen Kicks Mike’s Butt at Bowling – with video)

RECORD STORE TALES #1095:
Mental Health Plan: Gutterballs! (Jen Kicks Mike’s Butt at Bowling – with video)

Part of my mental health plan this winter is getting out more.  Movies, dinners, that sort of thing.  Jen loves bowling, so she took me out bowling for the first time in many years.  Five pin bowling is her jam.  Her lanes at Towne Bowl just closed, but Victoria Bowl isn’t far.  We rolled in to roll, right at noon.

Now, it’s no secret I’ve been having problems with my right arm.  You’ve seen it on Grab A Stack of Rock all wrapped up in braces and Tensor bandages.  There’s some serious pain going on there and sometimes even working on a mouse all day can leave me in agony.  So, this was a big test for me.  Can I bowl for an hour?  Is this a viable option for spending time in the winter?

The answer to both questions is yes (sorta), and yes.  Sorta, because though I could bowl for an hour, I got noticeably worse after about 30 minutes and Jen proceeded to kick my entire ass.

Jen had the best score of her bowling career to date.  I started strong, but pulled one of my worst scores on my last game.

We had a lot of fun.  Because we were so early in the day, we had a whole side of the place to ourselves.  We were at ease and because there was nobody else around, I filmed a bit of it.  I’m always at my happiest when I can be creative, and I was able to bring that side of it into the game.

My elbow is paying for it now, and my right hand and wrist are a bit rough, but that’s how you build up strength and get past this stuff.  Next time I’ll stretch first, though – that was a mistake.  My thighs….

But we did it, and we had a great time doing it.  Mission accomplished.

Kicking winter’s ass one pin at a time.  Let it begin.

Music:  The Last Train by Tee Bone Erickson

 

You can see my score decline as the pain set in.

#1087: View From the Front

RECORD STORE TALES #1087: View From the Front

Although our back porch at the cottage is arguably nicer and more comfortable, the front has its advantages.  What it lacks in privacy, it makes up for in a huge front awning that has protected me from in in every storm, and even broadcast Grab A Stack of Rock in the rain.  It has the best view, with the bright blue of Lake Huron peeking through the trees, right in my eyeline, no matter what I’m doing.

But I’ve always had a preference for the front, even at home when I was a kid.  Despite the privacy of the back, I was usually playing in the front.  I always wished I had a bedroom with a front window.  The back didn’t give me much to look at when I stared out the window.  Which I did a lot.

Was I trying to see, or be seen?

Like my dad, I always have this sense of…keeping watch?  If I hear a loud motor coming down the road, I usually look.   We used to make fun of my dad for this, but I have become my dad.

I have a sense that I’m partly keeping an eye out, but am I also intentionally making myself visible?

Back then in my youth, I’d be playing Lego in the front yard.  Then, G.I. Joe and Star Wars.  The grass and twigs were great for fort building.

Later, it would be ghetto blasters, guitars and music.  A lot it would happen on the front patio.

I’m a shy guy by nature and I prefer to let neighbors walk by as I focus on whatever I happen to be focusing on.  Sometimes writing, sometimes listening, sometimes just watching cartoons.  I like to play the music at a decent volume, and yes, you can usually hear it from the road.  (Sorry.)  So why do I draw this attention to myself?

I think there’s a part of me who still thinks, “Hey look at me, listening to 80s Styx on the front porch like a bad ass,” even at age 51.

I don’t know what to think about that.

 

#1081: Have I Ever Really Enjoyed A Concert?

With the Dead Daisies having just played here, and Sven Gali coming this fall, this seems like a timely posting for today.

RECORD STORE TALES #1081: Have I Ever Really Enjoyed A Concert?

A few years ago, I outed myself as someone who suffers from high anxiety in public places.  That wasn’t easy for me.  I had this reputation as this cool music guy, but contrary to that image, my concert resume was light.  People did wonder why there were bands I loved, like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest, that I had never seen live.  I won a ton of concert tickets from the radio, Kiss, I Mother Earth, Billion Dollar Babies, and lots more.  Yet at those shows, I wasn’t anywhere to be seen.  Why?

I’ve avoided a lot of events over the years, big and small, just because that anxiety makes it really hard to actually push myself out the door.  I’ve paid for tickets…many tickets…and never attended.  The money wasted is one thing, and missing the event is the other.  I blew my chance to meet Sean Kelly and Andy Curran at a Coney Hatch show in Waterloo.  Sean even promised me.  I blew it.  Couldn’t do it.  Too anxious.  Small room, lots of bodies.  So uncomfortable, being conscious of every human surrounding me, and trying to maintain a small amount of personal space.  Keeping my limbs tight to my body.  Feet firmly planted on the ground.  That’s what a concert feels like to me.

How can you enjoy a concert when your whole body is on red alert?  I can ignore it somewhat, but it’s always there, clawing away at the back of my brain.  My eyes dart from one side of the room to the other, as I battle the feeling of imminent panic.  Always tickling my nerves, asking me if I’m truly comfortable?

I’m not.

In concerts, my mind wanders.  How many more songs?  Will that guy with the beer spill it on me?  What about the guy pounding his fists behind me?  Will he lose track of his personal space and make contact?  What about that girl in front?  She’s so tall, I can’t see the drummer, but if I move, I might lose sight of my friends.  Those kinds of thoughts.  Seated shows are not as bad, but there’s still the usual anxiety before and after.  Standing in a line close to other people.  Exiting the venue with the mob.

Can you truly enjoy and lose yourself at a show when these kinds of anxieties are always gnawing away at the mind and stomach?  I have a hard time.  I have a hard time feeling comfortable.

I can think of a couple times when I truly did enjoy myself.  Small shows.  Familiar venue.  Lots of friendly faces in the crowd that I knew from work.  Feeling more like home.

Scratching Post was a band I saw twice under circumstances like this.  They were great!  I shouted and screamed and rocked!  They were at a small room called the Banke, which no longer exists.  I had been there a number of times to see friends’ bands.  It felt like all the usual faces were there; welcoming and inviting faces that allowed me to drop my fears and anxieties.  I lost myself in those shows at the Banke, with those people.  I truly enjoyed those concerts.

Another example was Brent Doerner’s Decibel at another small venue.  Jen and I had a table (hardly any seizures back then) and the band knew us.  Their manager came up and introduced himself.  I felt like a guest of honour in some ways.  That was a show I thoroughly enjoyed.

I didn’t feel that way at Rush in 2008.  Jen had a fall down some stairs and I just wanted to go home.  We left during the intermission.  We never caught the second half of the show.  Too many people, too much of a crush, and I was not enjoying myself at all.  I could not wait to get the hell out of there and get home.  I was always checking on Jen to make sure she was safe.  It wasn’t a good vibe.  The tickets were a wedding gift from her.

So, have I ever really enjoyed a concert?  A few.  Small ones, more like parties with friends than concerts.  Sadly, I think that euphoric concert experience of losing oneself in the music and the atmosphere is one that is totally lost on me.

 

 

#1080: S.A.D. Origins

RECORD STORE TALES #1080: S.A.D. Origins

As long as I can remember, I’ve hated winter, and craved the warm rays of summer.  My dominant genes are Mediterranean.  My not-so-distant ancestors made their living on the balmy coasts of Sicily, and Amalfi before that.  I was never cut out for the cold months.

I took hockey lessons as a kid.  I hated putting on those uncomfortable skates and all that cold-weather gear.  “Why do I have to take hockey lessons, mom?”

“Every good Canadian boy should know how to skate,” she answered.

Why?  Why couldn’t I just stay indoors where it was warm and I didn’t have to bundle up in three layers to go outside?  Hockey lessons never appealed, and to this day, I can’t really skate.  I mean, I can go forward…I can turn…but I can’t stop.  So, I can’t really skate.  Do I care?  No.  It’s been 27 years since I was last on skates.  More than half my life ago.

I can’t ski.  I can’t even get on the chairlift properly.  I haven’t been on skis since…1986 maybe?  No interest whatsoever.  We would build snowforts and take toboggans downhill, but I would much rather it be warm outside, riding my bike and playing in the sun.  The winter was always wet and messy.

My earliest memory of seasonal affective disorder was studying a globe with my dad as a kid.  I’ve long been obsessed with maps.  I’d study maps until the cows came home.  This time, we were looking at a globe.  He was explaining how the analemma on the globe worked: that figure-eight line that tracked the movement of the sun over the 12 months of the year.  The line can be traced by finding the position of the Sun as viewed from the same position on Earth at the same time every day.  In the winter, the sun can be found travelling the line in the southern hemisphere on our globe, but my dad explained, once December 21 came and went, the sun would be making its way back north again.  I would look at the globe and find the date on the analemma.  It sure made it feel like summer was coming, to see it translated into mere centimeters on a globe.

It’s quite remarkable that I was feeling those feelings as a kid.  Not even 10 years old yet?  Counting the days until the sun was back in the northern hemisphere.  To the days when I shed my outer skin of parkas and boots, and went back down to a T-shirt and shorts, basking in the comfort of the Canadian summer.  Seasonal affective disorder has been with me at least that long.

Another memory:  winter time, putting on my layers to go outside.  By the time all the layers were on, I didn’t want to go outside anymore.  My parents really struggled with trying to keep me active in the winter.  I wished I could have hibernated through it all.

I wonder if the added component here was school?  I hated school.  I hated the bullies.  The summer represented time away from all of that.  I wonder how much that fed into my seasonal affective disorder?

I guess that’s something I can explore with my mental health team this winter, as I try new strategies to stave off the S.A.D.ness.  We have some tentative plans and vitamin D is on the menu.  Let’s make the most of it.

Wish me luck.

 

#1079: How To Take the Weekend Off Guilt-Free

RECORD STORE TALES #1079: How To Take the Weekend Off Guilt-Free

Out of necessity, I’ve leaned back into live streaming hard this summer.  It was survival and I have to thank Jex Russell and Harrison Kopp for helping me make this happen.  Jex was there for me when all plans went out the window and along with Mr. Kopp and an array of awesome friends, we have managed to put out some of the best shows, and most popular to date.  The Canada Day show was a raging success.

I’ve also been busy recording projects behind the scenes some of which haven’t even been released yet.  I did a couple with Tim’s Vinyl Confessions, one with Grant’s Rock Warehaus. and one with Rock Daydream Nation, among other projects.  It’ll be cool for me to watch these as they finally drop, as we had good times talking controversial rock topics!

In order to enjoy what’s left of summer, and some earned time off, there will be no Grab A Stack of Rock tonight.  In fact, for the remainder of the season, if I’m at the cottage there won’t be a night show.  The sun is setting earlier, and there’s no wasting daylight around here.  And so, we’re taking this weekend off guilt-free.

It’s not easy, but sometimes in work, in life, and even in friendships, you have to prioritise yourself.   That’s OK; and you have to tell yourself that’s OK.  Get all your work stuff together so all your responsibilities are taken care of.  Make sure you’re good to go.  And then go!

There’s only so much time left before the leaves start changing, and this time, I’m going into autumn with a new attitude and new strategies.  No more making my plans around other people.  This time it’s about me – guilt free.