All those songs about winding it up always fascinated me but always gave me the creeps, too. You know, September Song, Hello Young Lovers, all those. Bob Dylan took over the genre from Jimmy Durante about fifteen years ago with Not Dark Yet from his jaw dropper, Time Out Of Mind.
It's hard to consider another subject when that one hunts you down.
Uh oh. Here comes the beautiful weather. When spring or fall roll around I tend to come down with the blues. Something about blue skies and that little snap in the air drags me down. I suppose I've known about it for some time now.
Here's a little clip of me and Rebekah singing "Talk Back Tremblin' Lips" at the Hideaway Cafe in St. Pete. Spencer and Brian shot it. Folks come up and tell me how pretty we sing together. Here's the secret: she sings pretty. I just sing. Anybody sounds good when she sings.
We usually expect something of a "Golden Age" following a big war. Art and culture flourish. Peace feels good. Prosperity is at hand since we're not wasting money killing people in the name of some religion. Education and technology make great leaps.
Now, as President Eisenhower warned, war is perpetual. It is this country's major industry and our chief export. Osama Bin Laden was evil. He told us clearly, however, why he was intent on destroying us. He said that we would be attacked for putting our soldiers on their sacred ground. He never mentioned hating our freedom. In fact, greedy scoundrels threw in with our own fanatics who thought they saw biblical prophecies in the middle east. A few corporations and shareholders and a few individuals and industries have made major fortunes from this go 'round.
Now we have no end to wars; no ticker tape parades, no VA college loans, no golden age. We have war. That war will be replaced by another until we stand up for peace. Relatively few of us actually fight in these wars and fewer will fight in the future as computers and drones do our killing for us. Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war. Let's have a golden age.
Folks always ask me about the best rock'n'roll show that I ever saw. I'm sure it's because I boast so much about all of the great music that I've been around. You know, "When I was a kid there would be ten or twelve acts on a bill and all of them would just rip the place apart."
My answer is always the same, though. Hank Ballard and the Midnighters. They were on a bill with Sam Cooke, Little Willie John, LaVern Baker, and Marv Johnson. My mom took me. It was at the armory in Tampa.
The Midnighters had always been favorites of mine. I had loved Hank's record of the Twist before that piece of junk bubbled out of the mire of Philly. I had lots of Midnighters 45's on King and Federal and several albums.
The whole evening was magnificent and that's probably obvious but when Hank and the guys took the stage it nearly killed me. The level of joy was overwhelming. How they could dance those routines and keep up those harmonies is still a mystery to me. I knew they were doing something naughty, something dirty but I didn't know what. I still don't. You'll probably never catch me doing a set without a little blue. Maybe a lot. It's the direct influence of Hank Ballard and the Midnighters. It's not rock'n'roll without a little smut. You can quote me.
"Forever." Seems like such an arrogant term, doesn't it? I'll bet that if we pored through all that Einstein left us that we wouldn't find him using the concept very frequently.
For those of us with less horsepower in the cranium every little hurt, every romance gone wrong seems to take on a "forever" significance.
September 11, 2001 comes closer than most worldly events. That day changed all of us dramatically and significantly if not forever.
When will we ever learn that violence and hate will never be changed with violence and hate. We have the power of love at our disposal and we seldom move to that as our first alternative. The peaceful ones who pass through our history leave us the same simple, profound lessons. All you need is love. There are really no other messages. I love you.
Maybe I'm just a slow learner. It suddenly occurs to me that if you can just open up your heart, your mind will follow. If you can just open up your mind, your heart will follow.
All those songs about winding it up always fascinated me but always gave me the creeps, too. You know, September Song, Hello Young Lovers, all those. Bob Dylan took over the genre from Jimmy Durante about fifteen years ago with Not Dark Yet from his jaw dropper, Time Out Of Mind.
Uh oh. Here comes the beautiful weather. When spring or fall roll around I tend to come down with the blues. Something about blue skies and that little snap in the air drags me down. I suppose I've known about it for some time now.
We usually expect something of a "Golden Age" following a big war. Art and culture flourish. Peace feels good. Prosperity is at hand since we're not wasting money killing people in the name of some religion. Education and technology make great leaps.
Folks always ask me about the best rock'n'roll show that I ever saw. I'm sure it's because I boast so much about all of the great music that I've been around. You know, "When I was a kid there would be ten or twelve acts on a bill and all of them would just rip the place apart."
"Forever." Seems like such an arrogant term, doesn't it? I'll bet that if we pored through all that Einstein left us that we wouldn't find him using the concept very frequently.
Maybe I'm just a slow learner. It suddenly occurs to me that if you can just open up your heart, your mind will follow. If you can just open up your mind, your heart will follow.
If love is the most powerful thing on the planet then I suppose that having none must be about the lowest deal going. Then again, I'm no expert.