Monday, February 24, 2020

Truth For The Rest Of Us






Nobody tells you the truth. Truth just is. Long ago I figured out that money isn't the key to anything. Fools deal in that currency. Feeling is the secret. I call it a "secret" because it seems to go overlooked so very often.

Now you'll pay a price for feeling more than the rest. A steep one at that. You don't so much choose to be a seeker. If it finds you, you're in.

Hold on. Welcome aboard.







Friday, February 21, 2020

Don't Make Me Come Over There






Symptoms? Yeah, I've got 'em, I suppose. I have visions of insignificance and frequently wake up with night chills. As I understand it, we all have obsessive compulsions. It's a disorder when it interferes with normal life. Buddy, I don't have a normal life.

There's really nothing to learn and I've spent a lifetime learning it.

Here's a little secret. Tell everybody you meet. Kindness will get you things that money won't. Love will get you more than power ever could.




Thursday, February 20, 2020

Still Neat As Heck






There are men who can wear hats and men who can't. Attitude, I suspect. Oh, I love hats. I've got them all over the house. I guess that every time I've bought one over the years, I've always thought that this one will be the one to change it all.

My standard of living would be higher and my house less cluttered if I could have admitted this to myself thirty or forty years back.

Another thing that I can't seem to be able to pull off is slang. You've never had me tell you about my next gig, have you? I've never raved about how cool Elvis was or how groovy the Beatles were.

Now, I don't disapprove. In fact I admire the masters. Cab Calloway. Harry "The Hipster" Gibson. My old friend, Gary Dobbins. Maybe I just don't feel worthy. My patter is jammed with jargon from here and there. My patois consists of of whatever clogs my gyro and my sulci. There's slang in the mix. Lord knows I'm no purist. 




Thursday, February 13, 2020

Justice Is Color-Blind, Love Is Just Near-Sighted






It occurs to me that I surely have talked a lot for somebody with so little to say. What I lack in ambition I make up for with a lack of the Christian work ethic. I've been called lazy. I prefer to think I'm authentic. 

Once I was a rock'n'roll musician. That job only lasted for a little over fifty years and the industry died. Well, let's be honest, nobody thought in 1956 that it would be around for a decade. 

Now this philosophy racket doesn't keep me very busy. Come to think of it, the music business didn't either. I started music to pick up girls. I never picked up a girl. This blather about philosophy is to keep from admitting to no visible means of support. The pay and the benefits are lacking but I'm not really complaining.

All that stuff between the tiniest particles- that's the magic. I'm kinda' a magician, too. 



Sunday, February 9, 2020

Autobiography Of A Yahoo






Truth has beckoned me since I was a kid. Don't take me too seriously here. Don't take anybody too seriously anywhere. My impatience has been tempered with a short attention span, making me appear kinder than I really am. 

It's a little bit like those objects in the rearview mirror appearing closer than they are- or is it not appearing as close as they are? I'll get back to you.

Moriarty be damned. If, in fact, we are just walking each other home, let's go the long way. You have no idea how much I love you.




Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Oh, I Come From Alabama









Herman Blount called himself Sun Ra. He claimed he was from Saturn. His birth certificate showed that he was born in Birmingham. Birmingham, Alabama.

I tell folks that I'm Ronny Elliott. My birth certificate labels me George Ronald Elliott and claims that I was born in Birmingham, too. I don't feel much attachment to the place and I'm a white male. I do love the rings around Saturn.

It occurs to me that society will tolerate a limited number of artists. Poets. Beatniks. Just don't interrupt the program. Don't run for public office and, fercrissakes, don't tell 'em that you're a son of god.

Sometimes I worry that I'm not living life to the fullest.

Then I remind myself that I've seen Coleraine and I've worn a turban and I've lived with dogs and cats, guinea pigs, mice, goldfish. I've picked muscadines and I have found sharks' teeth.



Thursday, January 30, 2020

Quit Slaying Dragons






Maybe we all come along at just the right time. From this vantage point I can see that I was destined for a solo journey. Fill a room with every teacher, all the lovers, each and every friend and they will all tell you- I'm a lone wolf.

This is not what I have thought I wanted. I was always sure that I needed brothers and sisters. As a kid, I would cry when the aunts and uncles went home. I have always moved from romance to romance with no consideration of an alternative.

Playing in a band always seemed like the ultimate occupation. Oh, a hit record would have been nice and, contrary to what you may have heard, I'm not adverse to success. What I always moved back to, though, was the camaraderie of the band.

Well, sir, after more than fifty years and dozens of bands, it's obvious that I can't do that. All those buddies from all those bands will, of course, be in that room telling you the same story.

Don't think that I'm whining. I've had the best teachers, the sweetest lovers, and the best friends a fellow could ever ask for.

Eventually, we all go home alone.