Nice Guys Don't Finish

Being a good guy has never been a smart career move. I remember that early on in his career, Elvis made the decision not to smile for photographs. Based on Brando and James Dean, he was convinced that a surly look was what melted young girls' hearts. Seems funny now- all those iconic snapshots of that famous, crooked smirk. I'm thinking that in 1956 he was just having too much fun to scowl.

Well, sir, after fifty something years in the rock'n'roll racket, I'm still smiling. Oh, I'm a revolutionary. An anarchist. There aren't many organizations that I admire, any governments that I support or many country clubs that will let me in.

I still love the music. The music business? Not so much.

Do you suppose that I have failed because I smiled? Is it my lack of regard for the crooks in the industry?

Who cares?

I'm having too much fun to snarl.

Oh, yeah- I love the people. I don't like the war but I love the soldiers. I don't like the government but most of those jackasses are doing about the best they can. I despise Wall Street but I have plenty of pals who don't. Nobody needs to remind me that for every self-important sourpuss with a silver chalice, slinging smoke, babbling in a language that nobody understands- there is a country preacher who works without pay, trying to comfort his neighbors.

Now, pardon me- I'm gonna keep smiling. Failing, too, I imagine.

Whose Chains, What Chains?

It helps to understand that the ones in power believe that the disenfranchised merely want their stuff. Greed? Not the way most wealthy consumers see it. If wealth is your driving force, you should be looking for bootstraps. Or a sucker. You're probably wasting your time here.

Oh, it's not that I believe in magic. It's all magic. I don't have time to argue with you over semantics and, buddy, it's all semantics. 

There's nothing here but love, light and vibrations. If that's not magic to you, we've got nothing to talk about. 

Have a good one. Stay safe. Take care.

I don't trade in small talk. I love you.

Sweethearts and Ghosts

Lately they seem to be showing up with amazing regularity. If you talk too much about the spirits visiting, you'll just bore folks. Keep it up and they'll have you taken off.

It occurs to me now that I should have loved better and listened more. I think I'm pretty good at forgiving but I could have been quicker. 

My great gift from the universe has been low expectations. I've never had to live up to much and I have succeeded wildly.

Science Calling

If everybody's life is some kind of movie, mine is one of those B films of the '50's without much storyline. There's gonna be a big rock'n'roll show in town and the city fathers are determined to shut it down. I play me.

Hey, let's cut a rug. Well, musicians don't dance. Truth is, I was always afraid to ask anybody to dance. Time fills all potholes. I read that somewhere. 

Most of my luck has been good and I can't remember anything about the rest. 

I have never been so proud of what I see in this country right now. If you have a voice, speak up for the ones who don't. They can't outlaw love but they sure can try.

Sliding In To Shortstop

You're gonna think I'm making this up. I don't have the imagination for it.

An old friend was over a couple of weeks ago, digging up some plants for her yard. She noticed two plastic skulls placed very tastefully beside a fancy palm.

"Oh, I forgot that you collect skulls," she began. 

"Who don't?"was my obvious response.

"Do you want two more?"

Of course I told her that I did. I don't remember being very excited about it. The things are all over the house. It's not so much that I collect them as it is that they have accumulated. You know how some folks don't take down their Christmas lights? I'm more a halloween guy.

The next morning as I went out the side door, I stumbled over a grocery bag, folded over. I assumed that one of my kind neighbors was worried again that the old guy would starve with all the restaurants boarded up.

The clunk when I put the bag on the kitchen counter made me think that it was just canned goods.

No sir! When I opened the bag and peered in, there were two skulls looking up at me. Not plastic, halloween-variety skulls. Two skulls! Real, human skulls.

Last night, just as I was falling asleep, I hear a very odd, but very human voice from the the other bedroom, the room where one of the skulls now "rests".

Nobody. Nobody. Nobody.

More likely no body. No body. No body- right?

All night it went on. It seemed like every time I fell asleep, this weird, human voice would start. I finally convinced myself that it was some exotic tree frog just out the window. I had to!

Half way through pecking this out, it began again. I ran into the room, scared to death that I was confronting my Vincent Price nightmare and remembered the landline phone set that someone had just given me.

From the cardboard box, no battery. No battery. No battery.

Thank goodness. The skulls stay. Not sure about the phone.