Post and Hank

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Post Malone and Hank Williams

 

My Hank Williams bender started after an unsuccessful “sit-in” with some musicians at a local American Legion. I brought my guitar and played in the circle — I was lost —- not much country in my soul that night – and none of it transferred through my fingers to the other players and patrons—— so I started listening to Hank — got back to the start.

 

My Post Malone bender started with my 16 year old —- I heard it from him — and I’m like — “Wow, this rapper dude has way more style and —- and ….  “it” factor —- man for his time and place thing…..”

 

Intangible but so relatable — edgy and cool — not too much of either — the right mix for his day.

 

Really Caveguy?

 

— Post and Hank?

 

Why not?

 

I saw Post on the VMA’s — I was shocked — I did not expect him to be white with writing on his face – I can’t believe its 2018 and I’m shocked – doesn’t sound white.———-  Wow! How could I have messed this up?

What does it matter? — good music is good music —- white, black, pink or blues — the music is what matters.

 

So now I’m working on some Hank and some Post for my next open mic— what will they think of me?

 

I better practice hard and get it right — get it tight and bring all my soul —- then I have a chance. (Maybe)

 

 

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Joan – once more

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Summer in Saratoga at Café Lena for round 2 with Joan Osborne

I fell out of love and into reality with this goddess of soulful sweet elocution. The words become charged messages of hope, despair, love and loss — pain and joy –……  you know —– life

 

More specifically:

Adult  ….  grown up life.

This aint no young person angst — this is vintage, weathered acceptance of what is and what was.

I’m not calling anyone old here — she is my age — I know the track of years – I know the shared fight of quiet despair as we plunge through to new layers of time.

Inevitable

not calling it good, bad or indifferent — got plenty of all three.

And that’s what I got with another dose of Dylan Music.

 

One song destroyed me (again)


Tryin’ to Get to Heaven

 

The air is getting hotter
There’s a rumbling in the skies
I’ve been wading through the high muddy water
With the heat rising in my eyes
Every day your memory grows dimmer
It doesn’t haunt me like it did before
I’ve been walking through the middle of nowhere
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

When I was in Missouri
They would not let me be
I had to leave there in a hurry
I only saw what they let me see
You broke a heart that loved you
Now you can seal up the book and not write anymore
I’ve been walking that lonesome valley
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

People on the platforms
Waiting for the trains
I can hear their hearts a-beatin’
Like pendulums swinging on chains
When you think that you lost everything
You find out you can always lose a little more
I’m just going down the road feeling bad
Trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

I’m going down the river
Down to New Orleans
They tell me everything is gonna be all right
But I don’t know what “all right” even means
I was riding in a buggy with Miss Mary-Jane
Miss Mary-Jane got a house in Baltimore
I been all around the world, boys
Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

Gonna sleep down in the parlor
And relive my dreams
I’ll close my eyes and I wonder
If everything is as hollow as it seems
Some trains don’t pull no gamblers
No midnight ramblers, like they did before
I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down
Now I’m trying to get to heaven before they close the door

 

Bob Dylan


She came out between shows to sell merchandise – I know its part of the job — but still – an honor to share a few words and have her sign my record. This song probably not written about grief; and the resulting complete annihilation of the soul. — but this night it was — but also healing in a way —- yeah  –

Music is like that.

Again, cheers from the cave!

 

 

 

 

Day of the Dead

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It’s been way too long since I fired up the imagination for a quick graphic sketch for pure fun. Of all the celebrations – this one seems to fire the flames correctly. Nothing against any other culture, but Mexico has such a morbidly colorful way to express this season. So I made a sugar skull.

Enjoy life and living.

Cheers from the cave!

Still Here

Standing on my grave on a cool fall day while the sun warms my face.

A strange feeling – not sad or fatal – but weirdly calming – none of us gets away with tricking destiny.

We coerce and tempt – we punch and pull – we struggle and scream.

But it comes anyway.

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Wait, … hang about …..  hold on a minute……

We are still here

This not over – the struggle part continues – the dark days – the drama – the conflict – yeah, … all in there.

But the ink is not dry.

We are skipping ahead and reading a few lines.

We get what we choose or we take what is left —- there is no third way.

This will be the end – but damn it – let’s make the remaining pages something special.

Let’s leave nothing undone.

Let’s live!


These are my thoughts after meeting the caretaker at the cemetery and picking out the resting place for my wife and I. As you may know if you follow me – my wife has been battling cancer and it has not been going our way. The diagnosis was dire two years ago – and nothing has stopped it from progressing.

Here we are– making final arrangements. Not because we want to put them into action, but more so we can clear them from our minds.

Anybody who faces this comes to this – this point of “giving in” to all the possibilities that are coming at you.

It’s not “giving up” —– giving up means waiting around for the bad to happen…….we are not waiting , we are doing.

We are looking this bastard right in the face and not turning away.

We are still here.

Things Happen

Dawes.Things Happen

“Things happen –  that’s all they ever do”

Sometimes you have to let go of trying to figure out how the train got off the tracks – the work of putting it back on is just too important.

Things happen.

When something difficult comes your way, you must resist the temptation to surmise you were born under a bad sign – or born a loser or something else.

Things happen – that’s all they ever do.

In the hospital waiting room – my 13 year old says “Hey Dad, I got a question for you.”

“OK, – go ahead”

[I have no idea what is on the way]

……… “I have never asked you this before but I need to know”

[Am I ready for this? – where are we going?]

“If you could have one superpower what would it be?”

[Did not see this coming]

I have time to think —- Flying is not an option because I am not crazy about heights and it gets really cold as you gain elevation—–those little leotards and a cape are not very insulating – flying is out.

Invisibility? You know – most of my life, I have felt invisible – I already had this power and it is way overrated — so no on this one.

The power to time travel! – now we are on to something – I would go back and tell 7 year old me that everything is going to be ok, there will be some difficult days but it is going to be alright, you will be fine.

And I would have older me come back and visit both of us right here and tell us it will be good – that we will move and grow and live with purpose and conviction because of the things that happen today.

Things happen – that’s all they ever do.