Happy Fourth? Really? That’s the message? -July 4th 2026
I don’t know how anyone can feel entirely uncomplicated about celebrating our country this year. Maybe if you have everything you need and don’t see anyone being left behind, it feels easy. But I don’t think many of us are living in that version of America.
I’m beyond ambivalent. I feel angry. I feel like a reckoning is due for the businesses and politicians who have sold out their fellow Americans. I don’t feel like waving a flag and pretending everything is fine. I feel like protesting. That is the mood.
America is supposed to be the land of the free, but it is the land of the bought. How can freedom survive when our souls are for sale?
I’ve been putting down my screens and stepping away from the internet for most of the day. It has given me a burst of energy, and I’m putting it into protest music. Music is what I do best. I want to give my best right now, so I’m making music.
If you’re wondering what you can do to help, start with what you’re good at. It may not be what everyone else is good at, and that is exactly the point. We need people creating, organizing, teaching, feeding people, making people laugh, sharing useful information, showing up, and speaking out. Even comedians and influencers have a role. People fighting for something need moments of humor and connection, too.
This country is in a rough place, and too many politicians have shown that they will not tell the truth or protect the people they represent. Public figures often stay quiet when their voices could matter. Comfort can make it easier to avoid difficult conversations. But people with less power and fewer resources often understand what is at stake because they are already living with the consequences.
I keep thinking about how much of our attention is being bought and sold. We are connected all the time, but often at the expense of our focus, our peace, and our ability to think clearly. The people who built these systems know exactly how to keep us engaged. I’m trying to step away from it, even if it is difficult. I ordered a flip phone, and I’m a little nervous about the adjustment. Still, I want my attention back.
When I was hospitalized, I learned about dual diagnoses. Currently, our entire planet desperately needs a space dedicated to addiction and mind control. Statistically, it’s a pressing issue.
The United States will put almost anything on the market if the profit margin is high enough. Good or bad, useful or harmful, it comes down to money.
That puts a lot of responsibility on the rest of us. We cannot assume that government or major corporations will protect our families, our communities, or our future. We have to pay attention. We have to make choices. We have to use whatever gifts we have.
So no, I’m not celebrating today.
The best I can muster is this: I’m planning a comeback USA album.
—K
Mean City June 29, 2026
I’ve always thought of Wichita Falls, Texas, as a hard place to live. I don’t find much Southern hospitality here—if it’s here, I haven’t experienced much of it. Most days I don’t feel especially comfortable just going outside.
Over the years I’ve worked as a musician, in maintenance, trucking, and a handful of other jobs. I’ve met some genuinely kind people, but I’ve also run into a lot of meanness. I’ve even been assaulted by other musicians.
I don’t think everyone’s against me. I think it’s simpler than that: I just don’t have a crowd. And when you don’t have a crowd, the world can feel a lot more hostile.
So it doesn’t surprise me when people move away and say, “People are so nice here.” Maybe they’re getting smiles, eye contact, curiosity instead of assumptions. Maybe someone offers to help. Maybe they throw a party and people actually come. Those things can make a place feel entirely different.
What strikes me about our town is how much identity seems wrapped up in labels. Stainless steel cups, pickup trucks, guns, boots, politics, church, music, food—we often sort ourselves into camps based on brands, affiliations, or symbols instead of who we actually are. Sometimes those labels seem to matter more than the people wearing them.
That creates an atmosphere where everyone is a little more defensive. And for people who are especially sensitive to conflict, the easiest response is to stay home. Then the community gets a little quieter, a little more divided, and the cycle continues.
Social media didn’t help me. When I was active on it, I started seeing the world in brands too—brands of news, religion, guitars, politics, everything. It gave me the feeling that I belonged somewhere, and that was comforting and an adrenaline rush. It also made me an easier customer.
The platforms learned what I cared about, what I disliked, what upset me, and they fed me more of all of it. My world became smaller, simpler, and less real than the one outside my front door.
People aren’t brands. They’re complicated. They don’t come with labels stamped on them, even though we often advertise the ones we’ve chosen. I’ve learned that judging people by those labels gets me nowhere. If I’m going to judge anything, it should be actions—not slogans, products, or affiliations.
Simple answers are attractive because complex questions are hard. Sometimes the honest answer is that we don’t know yet. Sometimes we have to read, think, research, and sit with uncertainty for a while. There’s not much profit in encouraging people to do that.
So if there’s one thing I hope for, it’s this: that something I write might make someone curious enough to look something up for themselves. You don’t have to tell me if you do. I can imagine it just like I do your politics, shoes, favorite meal, etc.
That’s enough for me. -kelly
NEWSLETTER: June 19, 2026
1st thing, thanks.
The Djembe Funk record was a success. Thanks so much for sharing it and listening to it. I’ve gotten so many nice comments and warm vibes from it. It feels great to be me at the moment.
I learned something with that record; I sound better than I can write about difficult topics. So I have upped the protest music, and toned down the written protest. Trying to play to strengths. Many of the words I spoke on the album were from the blog I’ve taken down. It was clear to me, I sound nicer than I type. Even with the same exact words.
About changing things up..
I’ve been changing things up. The more time I spend offline, the better I feel without it. I miss folks, but I don’t miss crowds in my head. If one or two people are in my head, I’m fine. But I don’t like what comes out when I feel like I am always performing, even if I always want to.
I deleted the blog because I don’t want to be a voice in anyone’s head like they get to be voices in mine. Plus I’m wrong a lot of the times on my first guess so I decided to not be part of the clutter.
Since then, I’ve gone analog in the music room. I’ve learned screens are two way streets, not just me looking at them. Every program or app I was using was using me. So, no more screens where there’s recording or jamming. I am even mixing without screens too. New for me, but I love how gratifying it is. Turn a knob, something happens.
I did’t expect to get so relaxed. My big takeaway from this is “wow! Am I laid back for what feels like the first time in forever?” Writing lyrics has been happening for several days, it’s easier. I don’t feel tense in my brain. And I can zone out on myself doing guitar or something musical for longer periods. I know screens engage us. I didn’t realize how much they wear us out. The news from out here is “the water’s great.”
Plans? Releases? Irons in the fire?
I am busy with a friend’s remix/remaster. I have a lot of protest funk lyrics I’d like to jam out. But the main thing for me at the moment is The Kintners double-album coming on Christmas. I spend more time on that than anything, I am in love with it right now. I hope it will be a long, definitive Kintners’ playlist that is cohesive from start to finish. Hard work. But really, the best kind of work. Thanks again for the Djembe Funk love. Kelly