I just don't have anything to tell you. I'll remind you that love is the only true currency. Nothing else seems important right now.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
So, tonight I go to work. When you can't wait to show up for your job, life is good, huh? I'm playing with my pals in Chinese Mary Jane. That would be Rebekah Pulley, Rob Pastore, Spencer Hinkle and Steve Connelly. They're magnificent musicians and even finer human beings.
I've been surrounded by magical musicians and beautiful folks since I was a kid. A long time.
We're gonna play a lot of stuff that I've always wanted to play and somehow, never got around to it. There's plenty of it.
To make a swell situation even sweeter, we're playing at the Hideaway Cafe in downtown St. Pete. What a beautiful listening room. Again, all terrific people, too.
Finally, I'm embarrassed to brag, but the folks who come to share the music and the love with me are the best in the world. Love for all you're worth. You'll be richer for it.
Friday, November 28, 2014
Am I so naive and unsophisticated that all the thanksgiving chatter from Publix commercials and Facebook posts about families makes me a deliriously giddy fool. Yeah, I guess I am. The joy in my heart could illuminate a city. I have love and lots of it. I know there are folks out there with holes in their hearts and their souls. May we all have all the love that we can use.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
If I can simply tune in to that love frequency and get rid of whatever ego static clouds the airways, I can serve some purpose in this life. I've done the best I could so far in life and, let's face it, I haven't done all that well.
Here's to anyone that I've let down, anybody that I've disappointed. I have karma to take care of here. I hope that love fills every heart today. Don't ever hold back with yours.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
"Doc, I feel like my dog died and I don't have a dog."
Nobody could communicate with the English language like "Big Ed."
Well, Ed's bout with depression was fixed up with some medications and he was soon back to his cranky self.
If you have never suffered with the real blues, I'm happy for you. If you have, you know it. I mean you really know it.
Wouldn't it be fine to get this elephant off your chest and this monkey off your back once and for all. In the meantime, love, love, love.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
My obsession with my obsessions is getting to me. Love. Really, what else is there? Happiness. What do we need to be happy? Well, love. Then what about the broken heart, what about love gone wrong? Doesn't loving wrong cause the ultimate heartache. What about hurting others with your bad love? Somehow, I have to get out of this circular reasoning and get on with life. Uh oh- I feel another round coming on.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Sunday, November 23, 2014
She was some form of magic, the mythical child bride. I walked on hot coals to stand by her side. She taught me grand lessons while I was still grieving. Then she filed applications and talked about leaving.
I always read Proust to her 'til I got used to her, then I just sang her Ernie K-Doe. My blood was too red and the wine went to her head and I resigned myself to watching her go.
She stooped to conquer. She showed me pure joy. While she flirted in German I tried to be coy. With all the saints in the family and all the ghosts in the hall and all the savage pastimes that I can recall.
She read Dr. Seuss to me 'til she got used to me, then she sang me Billie Holiday. The wine rushed to her head and my blood was too red and she talked about going away.
I found a hole in my heart where the soul all went. It's easy to love a memory when the romance is spent. All of the God and all the gold, they can't touch the destiny when the dice have been rolled.
Yeah, I always read Proust to her, 'til I got used to her, then I just quoted Spike Jones. The wine went to my head and my blood was still too red. She was leaving, I could feel it in my bones.
She read Dr. Seuss to me, 'til she got used to me, then she quoted Lady Day. The wine was red and the blood rushed to my head and she talked about going away.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Seems I'm always looking at photos of dogs or cats. I notice that some dogs always seem to be smiling. Some are obviously worried and have sad expressions. Same with the cats. What do you suppose the smiling dogs know? Sometimes I'm worried that I'm worried. You know?
I just want to spend my time with one of those smiles on my face. Let's study love.
Friday, November 21, 2014
Here's to the ones who live without love. All of the folks who turn off the last light at night by themselves and know that tomorrow will be the same. I toast the lonely souls who tell themselves that they choose to spend the holidays alone; the ones who find their company in the bars, the malls and the twenty four hour diners. It's not really an exclusive club. I guess everybody really does need somebody to love.
While I'm at it, let me lift a glass to the ones with their hands in their pockets because they have no hand to hold. You know, the ones with a favorite song or two but no way to share an "our song" thing. What becomes of the lonely ones?
Thursday, November 20, 2014
So, here we go again. I'm doing another couple of "career day" type things for an American Teach In at a middle school this morning. I'm either the luckiest human alive, chasing my muse and doing what I love, or I'm an abject failure who has flopped in my chosen profession for decades with nothing to show for any of it. Funny thing is, both scenarios are pretty accurate.
All I really have to say to the kids is do everything you do with love in your heart. Work for peace. Search for truth. Take care of all living things. Sing when you can and cry when you have to. By the time it's over, nothing will matter but the love.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
My heart's just not big enough to deal with all of the sadness and all of the suffering that I see around me. I see no point in our existence beyond love. Everything else seems trivial and pointless. My hope is that I have brought some measure of love and happiness to someone somewhere.
Monday, November 17, 2014
News flash- I'm not cool. I've never been able to even make myself use the term. I'm not good at slang. It doesn't suit me. I'm not hep, hip, rad or even fashionable. Never was. Never could have been.
I'm hoping that this doesn't read as though I find myself above all this. I always wanted to be in the know, up with the latest trends. In other words, I'm not above it. I just can't do it.
It has taken a very long time for this to sink in. Women in my life have always tried to help. I've been accused of wanting to be loved. Well, yeah, I suppose there's something to that. Who don't?
When the Love Generation came along I thought my time had come. I'm hokey to my core. All I want is world peace, freedom, happiness and love for all creatures. Oh, yeah- I want the earth to be lovingly cared for, too. I'm easy to please.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
As far as I know, in 1956 Tampa had only one juvenile delinquent. Daryl Barcoot was a legend. He went to Wilson Junior High and all of my teachers at Roosevelt Elementary claimed to remember him. They all swore that they had, in fact, liked him. Oh, they knew that he was on the road to ruin way back but, apparently, he had been a sweet kid. That seemed to make it even better.
Daryl lived with his parents off Audubon Avenue in south Tampa, across the street from Trinity Methodist Church where I attended Sunday school with my cousin, George, and his family. Sometimes we would talk Aunt Pauline into letting us sit in the car during church service and we would wait patiently for any sighting of the bad boy.
Honestly, I couldn't decide if I wanted to be a rock'n'roll star, a race car driver or a juvenile delinquent. By the time that I saw Rumble On The Docks and realized that hoodlums did mean things to people I settled in on rock'n'roll star. It never quite worked out but I have no complaints.
Friday, November 14, 2014
What if Rock Hudson had never gone to Hollywood? Would he have lived his life as just some gay sales clerk at the Sears & Roebuck in Winnetka? Would his life have mattered less?
It's never about what you did or might have done. It's about what you're doing now. Elvis, sadly, became the first Elvis impersonator. Love is the only thing that matters. The ego will take care of itself, thank you. Just be kind. There are folks who need you.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
For any effort that I have ever put into being right, I am truly sorry. Obviously, there is seldom "right" and "wrong" when two people disagree. My role in this life is to love and to serve. Oh, I am aware that none of us changes much. I will work to be the exception. Better late than never. Love heals. Everything can always be fixed.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Maybe I've always been conflicted. As a kid I always wanted to be blood brothers with someone. Maybe it's from being an only child. Yeah, I suppose that I've always found being in love better than the alternative. Romance doesn't seem to be enough, though. Shouldn't it always be wild, passionate, scorch your wings stuff?
Well, I always seem to end up without a blood brother and failing miserably at romance. I'm still an only child, too.
The one part of my life that makes it all worthwhile is working with all of the wonderful musicians who have graced my life. It never gets old. For right now it's Chinese Mary Jane with Rebekah Pulley, Rob Pastore and Spencer Hinkle. I love them.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Well, I've watched the puppies grow up, become old dogs and go on to doggie heaven. Over and over. Friends' babies have their own toddlers now. Some of them aren't babies any more.
My beloved rock'n'roll has been pushed aside many times for rock or new wave or worse, americana.
I remember Uncle Morgan saying that he had to make himself visit my mom in the nursing home because he didn't want to be around all the "old people." She was around eighty five or eighty six at the time. Uncle Morgan? He was about ninety.
Uncle Morgan never got old. He just chose not to do it. Let me say that he stayed young with dignity, too. No little red sports cars of him. Never needed 'em.
Jamaica thinks she's a puppy. She's nine. That's my girl.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Saturday, November 8, 2014
They say you don't really know how sick you are until you begin to get better. Music sounds sweeter to me than it has since I was a kid. I keep thinking that I'm hearing the best things I've ever heard. I am! The colors are vivid and bright. My eyes and my heart seem to be open wider than I knew was possible.
Oh, sad is sad. The news on television reminds me of war and greed and hate. Sometimes loneliness holds me by the throat and tries to take control. There are folks that I miss. Regrets? Yeah.
It's all just a part of this magnificent quilt, though. I've said it before, you're lucky when you know you're lucky. Try your best to squander your love. See if you can use it up. Ha!
Friday, November 7, 2014
That's what my pal, Dick Holler, said to me in the dimly lit restaurant at the Hard Rock Casino in Tampa. It was the first time that we had seen each other in twenty years or so. Maybe longer. He had come to play some serious poker. Dick was always frugal, to put it mildly, but I guess he has to figure out ways to spend all the loot nowadays.
He was referring to the fact that Smokey Robinson was one of dozens of artists who have covered his song, "Abraham, Martin and John." Smokey's new anniversary record was obviously going to sell a green gazillion copies. More loot.
Of course the beautiful ballad has also been covered by Andy Williams, Marvin Gaye, Harry Belafonte, Wilson Pickett, Moms Mabley, Emmylou Harris and Leonard Nimoy. Bob Dylan has performed it frequently as has Nanci Griffith and Bon Jovi.
You'll read that Dion recorded the first version. That's not quite right. My friend, Spencer and I recorded the first one. Dick didn't much like it. Spencer and I didn't think much of it either. Dick and I worked for Phil Gernhard, the producer who had begun his career with "Stay" by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs. Dick had written a song about the Red Baron and Phil added the stuff about Snoopy. That was the beginning of this loot that I keep bringing up.
In our early days in the little office in St. Petersburg I had once asked Dick if he was aware that his early 45's on Herald and Ace were valuable, sometimes going for a couple hundred dollars through Goldmine Magazine. He wouldn't believe me until I brought him a price guide that listed values of old records. Then he declared, "Well, that's based on scarcity, not quality."
I thought he was being humble. Now, I sometimes find old records of mine going for too much money on ebay. Yep, scarcity.
By the way, Dick's records' value is based on quality, believe you me!
Thursday, November 6, 2014
It suddenly occurs to me that alpha males see all other males as a threat and just naturally assume that every guy is up to their tricks. The only real symptom of psychopathy is a total lack of empathy. Psychopaths have no concept of caring. Therefore, their world seems to be full of psychopaths. They think that they're just better at it than the rest of us. If they're good at it, they learn to shed a tear at the appropriate time when a puppy gets run over or a president gets shot down.
How lucky a man is to be driven by passion and compassion. Of course, most of us are. Love hard. You have to take up the slack for places like Washington, D.C., where the proportion of psychopaths is out of whack. That's not to mention the alpha males, including some in dresses and pantyhose.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Everything I do is easy. Don't misunderstand me here, I have no particular skills and there are plenty of teachers in my past who still question my intellect. It's really just that I've never really aimed for much of anything other than what is natural for me.
Could I have been an architect, a heart surgeon, a great lover or a rocket scientist? We'll never really know now, will we?
If I have any purpose here on this earth it is to remind folks to love. Search for truth. It's right there.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Monday, November 3, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Of all the sad memories of loss, none hurts me more than Orangey Boy. He was Charcoal's brother and he depended on me and that cat to help him get by in life. He was fun and he was a good boy but he was never really playing with a full deck. He escaped during my last move, twenty years ago. I still miss him.
Well, Jamaica and I spent last night in the new house but we did it without Angel. About half an hour ago I went back to the other house and scooped her up. I was ready for a clawing and I got one. Oh, she wouldn't hurt me on purpose but all the flailing and swinging rips some flesh, I'll tell you. I wasn't gonna turn that kitty loose for anything.
Now we're all here and life starts a new chapter. I'm calling this joint the Land O' Love.