Once The Darkness Has Been Let In

As I read again about Kurt Vonnegut's history I am saddened and amazed. Did that life form his magnificent art? Well, I suppose that our experiences always shape the work that we do. 

My struggles in life are truly put into a proper perspective when I ponder the tragedy that others go through. I've had a couple of women rip my heart out in the last few years. When they did, for some reason, they just kept shredding. I'll probably never know why. Friends and strangers like to tell me, "Hey, at least you got some songs out of it."

I don't need songs. I was happier with a heart.

At any rate I have spent too much time and energy and oxygen whining about my romantic misadventures. Maybe it's good to be reminded of real heartbreak, true sadness.

What I have come to realize is that once the crack is there, once a little of the darkness has been let in, it's always there. I'm hoping that I have just widened my scale now. You know, exquisite joy on this end and bleak misery on the other. I keep my foot down hard now, trying my best to keep it in the happy zone.

Sometimes it works.

The Best Ones

Everybody thinks his friends are better than other folks'. Mine really are. Sometimes I wonder why mine even put up with me. They take care of me and they spoil me. While we're all busy watching all of the tragic results that the weather has left and praying for all of the victims I'm reminded again that some force really does watch over fools.

Better

You've heard that worn out expression in movies, "I've been rich and I've been poor. Rich is better."

Well, it dawns on me now, pardon the expression, that I've been in love and I've been without love. In love is better.

I sat at the bar with an old friend from junior high school last night. When I started to leave he hugged me and told me how good it was to see me. It was wonderful to see him, too. The hug was just a wonderful confirmation of my connection with humanity. Thanks, Gid.

Put everything you've got into love. It's your best investment.

New Fight Song

It occurs to me that evolution favors the aggressive. The peaceful tribes have always been pushed to the edge, literally, and generally disappear over generations. That's not all of biology, however. Intelligence would always show up as a dominant force, too. I know that it's hard to accept during this election season. With folks lining up to vote against their own best interests you have to begin to question this part.

Let's just write that off to ignorance and bigotry for convenience for now. They will always go hand in hand.

If we fight them with their chosen weapons: fear, lies and intimidation, we all lose. Then we end up with two teams of bad guys. Bad pun, end up, intended.

Drag out truth and love. Add a dash of compassion and tolerance and you've got a fight on your hands. The bad guys will always fear the truth. 

I never understood "Down By The Riverside" as a kid. Seems like somebody was always singing it on the Ed Sullivan Show. I did, however, always love that line, "I ain't gonna study war no more." Let's sing it now and push them to the fringes. Keep in mind that we'll do our pushing with our chosen weapons.

Thinking about my buddy, Rock, this morning. Lots of mornings. I miss him.

Learning To Live, Waitin' To Die

Feels like I may be coming out of the other end of that tunnel that we call adolescence. I won't be called quick. Ever. The beauty of the planet overwhelms me. The sadness even more. Stand up for the ones who need you, two footed and four.

Friends

Wherever I go I'm reminded of the value of friends. A musician pal came up to me last night and told me how much he liked the new record. That's always nice. Then he fumbled for a minute and mumbled something about, "I don't know if I should be saying this." He related a personal story about missing an opportunity to warn me of impending romantic disaster and his regrets regarding everything that came next.

His kindness gave me a level of closure and validation that is still overwhelming. That's what friends do. I hope that I'm able to be a friend from time to time.

Lots of folks ask me about my good friend, Harry Hayward, wherever I go. Sometimes I wonder if Dean Martin got asked about Jerry Lewis and how he was doing right up until the end. Harry has been through some rough times over the last few years including a major health scare. This song is his story. He's my pal.

Cult Leader

So read the sliver from my stale fortune cookie at the Chinese Buffet a couple of weeks back. Funny, when I got home I found an image of the same message on some Tumblr page. How lucky am I that I live exactly the life that I've always dreamed of?

I wasn't blessed with anything that anyone would ever confuse with talent. What I share with folks is my soul. It seems that honesty is in really short supply these days. More than one friend has pointed out to me that I'm far too confessional and always getting way too personal onstage and on my recordings.

That probably has something to do with the number of press reviews and online entries that describe me as a cult artist. I'm pretty sure that most of the writers who describe me in this fashion are trying to be polite about the size of my audience. I've always gone for the underdog.

My friend, Rebekah, as I've mentioned before, has talent. A boatload. That was obvious to me when I saw her starting out. I fumbled to advise her and help move her towards her potential until she clearly needed nothing from me or anyone else. Now she even reveals the personal side. Not hers, mine.

I first heard her doing this song on the radio. She explained that she hadn't really written it, that she merely channeled a friend. I knew who the friend was before she finished the first line.