JonGorey.com

So, this past year, as our nation has slipped into something frightening and unrecognizable (but also utterly recognizable, in all the worst ways) — with masked agents of the state kidnapping children and PhD students , aggressively raiding family apartment buildings with military choppers in the middle of the night , hunting people of color based solely on skin color and racial profiling , and even executing US citizens in broad daylight and then lying about it (!) despite plainly available evidence — I was gripped by a passion and fury beyond my control.  And so I did the only sensible thing I could do with that amount of energy, which was to write a whole-ass musical.  It's called ' Robyn and the Merrymen ,' and it's a feminist riff on Robin Hood set in mid-90s London.  Robyn, a woman in this telling, is a big-hearted busker and lead singer of the Merrymen. She and her bandmates, along with a fiery new friend named Marian, must take down a greedy developer befor...

Hello, friends!  First off, I've got a couple of free shows coming up:  Saturday, March 15th , 3–6pm at the Monument in Charlestown (St. Patrick's Day special) Sunday, April 6th , 2:30–5:30pm at Break Rock Brewing in Quincy On a less breezy note: Sadness and anger are big emotions. Emotions are a form of energy. And when energy builds up, it needs somewhere to go, so the container holding it doesn't explode.   Thus, I have a new song for you — a protest song, fueled by fury. It's called 'Prince of Corruption.' You can listen to it for free on Bandcamp , stream it on Apple Music or Spotify , or watch the lyric video on YouTube  (or below):  You surely know by now how I feel about our current president. He has committed too many sins against our country to list in one space, most recently siding with Russia and North Korea (!) while antagonizing our friends and allies in Canada and Europe, and empowering an unelected Nazi-apologist billionaire to slas...

I recorded this song on my phone yesterday, in memory of George Michael. I'll tell you why, and what it means to me, after the jump.   Those who know me will tell you, without hesitation, that I'm an optimistic person and always have been -- perhaps overly so. I walk around this world grinning like some kind of delusional madman because I really do love life and the people in it. I hope for the best, and unfailingly look for silver linings when the best doesn't happen. My wife would tell you this can be inspiring, but also wicked annoying. But either way, that's me. However, something happened to me after Nov. 8th, 2016 -- something that tossed me into a long, deep, and uncharacteristic depression -- and I only recently realized the true reason for my existential crisis.  

I know some (ok, apparently most ) people hate the cold, and so many eventually leave the Northeast for warmer places. I know this, although I don't understand it. But I guess I'm weird: I love the snow. And fires, and sweaters, and drinking beer by the fire while it snows (wearing a sweater, obviously). Granted, you shouldn't listen to me. I went to school in Syracuse, N.Y., where it snows well over 100 inches a year. Unfortunately that's not hyperbole . (Sidenote about Upstate N.Y.'s lake effect snow: It would be one thing if, like in Boston, the snow just dumped down 1 or 2 feet at a time, and then the next day was sunny and crisp and perfect for skiing and sledding. But in Syracuse, you get those big storms, and then the rest of the time it's just ... consistently gray and lightly snowing. It seriously snows like an inch a day, every day, all winter. It's like living downwind from an active snow volcano.) Anyway. Whatever, move to North Carolina...

I am a bleeding-heart liberal; I think it's funny that the term is somehow intended to be derogatory. Yes, my heart bleeds. It bleeds for the kids killed in Newtown. It bleeds for their poor parents and their families. It bleeds for the kids who survived but will forever be haunted by the horrors they witnessed. Not just as a parent, but as a person, with a heart, this is all I have been able to think about for the past few weeks. Even amid Christmas, work, weddings, and other distractions, my heart has not been able to wrestle itself free from the weight of this tragedy -- the latest in a long, terrible saga. So I wrote a song. And I made a video for it, with some facts about gun violence in America courtesy of Stop Handgun Violence and the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence . It's an angry song , because I am angry. I'm devastated and desperate to do something. It is directed at the NRA , because they are the biggest, clearest villain in a story that is...

Well, I can't fight it any longer. The sick has finally got me. Oh, don't worry, I'm not swine flu sick or anything like that poor college kid . (Can you believe that? It's wicked sad. Whole campuses are like, infirm! It's mad. The first week of college should be the best week of your life, meeting hundreds of new people on equal footing, with a chance to define yourself on a blank slate. You should be exploring and conquering your new world, roaming from new class to new party with new friends — not in the sick bay. Poor kids.) No, this is just that run of the mill cold you get when it's warm outside and then cold inside, and then it's cold outside, and then it's warm again and your body's tired of playing games so it just gives up. Plus everyone on the T has been hacking all over me for the last two weeks; it was bound to happen. And I got like, an hour of sleep last Wednesday night so that couldn't have helped things either! But it did...

It's been a little over a week since we got back from Ireland. Gina and I promised ourselves we'd try to bottle (mentally) the inspiration and exhilaration we felt, to keep us going for awhile upon our return... it's lasted this long anyway, which is more than I expected! In related news, I just took my first of 12 Irish fiddle lessons through  Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éire , which was awesome. I'm so excited about this, and the timing of the class was serendipitous; I'm hoping I can keep my momentum going through the dreary Saturday mornings that are sure to lie ahead in November and December. In more related news, I'm going to start playing out a little more (by a little more I mean more often than not at all , which has been the norm of late), so keep an eye out for upcoming shows. I'm officially inspired again. Thank you, Ireland! We've got lots to catch up on. For starters: The Pats Last night during the Patriots' season opener, during the...

So, like, we're in the middle of summer? When did that happen? What was this, the fifth nice day we've had since April? I'm way behind on my summer fun! Anyway — let me just say that I love our president. And it feels great to say that. Also, the Red Sox (and my fantasy team, for that matter) are somehow in first place as of the midsummer classic. It feels great to say that too!

The Massachusetts Senate approved a sales tax increase last night , raising it to 6.25%. By a veto-proof margin, at that. Booooo. After all that hemming and hawing about not raising the gas tax during a recession, they're raising a tax that applies to...  everything else!  I understand they need to raise revenue, and quickly. But you're telling me that instead of raising the tax on gasoline, which would encourage people to consume less gas — something pretty much everyone agrees is a good thing — the solution is to penalize people buying stereos, books, and cars at at time when we need that commerce the most? Weak. I'm writing this Michael Morrissey fella to give him a piece of my mind.  (If you like sending angry emails as much as I do, you can find your elected officials here .) Last night I went to my first Sox game of the season, a great one (not to mention a fast one), and before the game we met up at the new "Irish pub" adjacent to the House of Blues , cal...

Near the end of college — second semester of senior year, the home stretch — I signed up for U.S. History: 1620–1865. I needed the social science credits and I thought, come on, I'm from Boston... I learned all of this in the second grade. This will be a piece of cake! And it was easy... up until John Adams or so. After that — well, how much do you know about the early 1800s? Yeah, that's what I thought. So I had to start "reading the material" and "attending class" and whatnot. I learned some stuff.  My professor was in love with our 7th president, Andrew Jackson. Some people think he's awesome: he was a POW in the Revolutionary War at like age 13, he was a bigshot military hero in the War of 1812; some say he stood for democracy and the common man. Whatever. Andrew Jackson was a first-class dick. There, I said it.  This guy championed Indian removal, most notably forcing 15,000 Cherokee Indians clear across the country to Oklahoma on what became k...