*Testosterone fueled post to follow. If that is not your thing, I suggest skipping to the pretty photos below.*

I am angry and I am pissed.

When that happens, I turn to my “angry music” playlist to help me get through. So truth be told, the only music I’m listening to right now is “Pissed Off’s Greatest Hits”.

One of the songs on constant loop is “Rooster” by Alice in Chains. Like so many other songs of the “grunge” era (to which I fully subscribed) it is a slow moving, heavy and “sludgy” tune that takes a while to build up, but when it does, it delivers.

While lyrically it tells the tale of a Vietnam vet, I have selfishly adopted it as my theme song for the fight against the PennEast pipeline. Just a few lyrical samples:

Ain’t found a way to kill me yet
Eyes burn with stinging sweat
Seems every path leads me to nowhere

Here they come to snuff the rooster, aww yeah
Yeah here come the rooster, yeah
You know he ain’t gonna die

They spit on me in my home land

Am I being melodramatic? I don’t care.

The song lifts me up, gives me the strength to keep up the fight and allows me to puff out my chest with pride.

True story … this morning I walked out into the thriving and somewhat frigid fall garden with only a t-shirt and shorts on. The iPod was all set up and I hit “play”. It felt goofy as hell at first but then it kicked in.

I was the “Rooster” as I paced my backyard.

Everyone I’ve met over the last few months is the “Rooster”.

The single mother who stood up to the trespassing surveyors was the “Rooster”.

The guy who has spent countless hours researching the non-viability of this natural gas pipeline is the “Rooster”.

Shit, my wife is the frickin “Rooster”.

Since I’m acting all boastful at the moment, here is this “Rooster’s” garden that is looking all sorts of awesome at the moment:

And just to throw it in their face even more, I purchased a bunch of bulbs I plan on getting in the ground the next few days.

This gardener ain’t gonna die.