Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Major Ramblings (no cohesive thoughts possible)

Well, I’m still chewing on my new role as a father-in-law and a grandpa-to-be.

Is it the possibility of darkness that makes the day seem so bright???

I’m still dealing with the death of my beloved uncle as well. That’s still a shock each time I think of it. Although my aunt called me yesterday to tell me that when they wrote the huge funeral up in the paper, they said that “Reverend” Keith Kennedy got up to speak at the funeral. She told me that I’ve been called lots of things in my life and that was probably the nicest – even though it was WAY off base.

I may be a holy man – but I’m no "Reverend". Haven’t got the heart for it. Instead of comforting the hurt, I’d be telling them to snap out of it and get on with life……..

Mr. Compassion, that’s not my name either.

But enough of that – there are too many other wonderful things in life to worry about what is missing.

The bestest thing in my life is that I love my wife and no matter what comes my way, I will greet it with the confidence that only comes from a man being in a place where he is happy and comfortable.

I am a man that knows who I am and am exactly where I want to be:

The blood that flows through you
Flows through me……
When I look in the mirror
It’s your face that I see…….

Take my hand,
Lean on me,
We’re almost free………

So, yea, I’m a little philosophical and a little poetic.

So sue me!

I am having moderate to severe motorcycle withdrawals. I know that we, as humans, are not supposed to be too connected to our material possessions – but jeez. I want to ride!

I sometimes lay in bed at night and think of riding in the wind with my girl hanging on to me. I miss that so much.

But alas, other things call for now. My lovely bride has begged me to borrow someone’s bike and go SOMEWHERE. She thinks I’m going to explode.

Speaking of exploding, she’s had a migraine for about 3 good days – and still last night, she went with me to watch the Saints in New Orleans on a very rainy Monday Night Football Game.

By the end of the game, I felt like I had a migraine – but it was only the pain associated with being a Saints fan………………….

Long night.

But everyone got home and got to bed and all was well this morning. Except for my love’s bruised head!

So love like you’re going to die tomorrow and worry not for yesterday nor fear for the future – because you’re time is now.


Wednesday, September 19, 2007


Happy Birthday to my sweet, sweet wife........................

She's is ______ years old. That's all I'm brave enough to broad-cast (pun intended).

No jewelry this year.

As a matter of fact, this is the weirdest bunch of presents I've ever given in my life. She's getting a new patio over the entire back of the house and Lasik surgery to help her survey her kingdom from her new patio.

Pretty weird, huh!

Some nice dinner and wine tonight - and hey, who knows what else she'll get!!!


Monday, September 17, 2007

The Big Valley..............

Got the call at 11:30pm Thursday night.

You know, one of “those calls”.

My Uncle Frank at the big house had a heart attack and died.

I wasn’t ready for that.

I guess you never are. And I knew he hadn’t been well. He was 75 and it had been a bad year health wise.

But I wasn’t ready for him to go.

I had wanted to go Thursday at lunch and visit with him but got too busy at work and called to say I would come Friday.

Turns out I did, but he wasn’t there………………

I stayed up all night long with my Aunt Jackie. Just me and her. All the neighbors were there when I got there – country people do that. And around 2am, after everyone had done all that my Aunt Jackie had told them to do, I sent them home to sleep and we sat Shiva.

She told me that she had gone to bed early and he woke her up around 11 and told her that his chest hurt and he was going to turn the light on. He took some nitro pills and she called the ambulance. He told her that it was hurting bad and then he looked at her and said that he thought he was going – and he loved her…………then he fell over in his bed and died.

Not the worst way to go, if you have to go. But I really wasn’t ready for this. I still need him. He has always been a father to me and even though I am grown, I still needed him to say yes or no or just something.

Friday was a blur, due to lack of sleep and shock. I do know that I made it to 7pm and then I lay down and don’t remember anything until 6am when I alarm went off on Saturday morning.

Then, my excitement at my first Cowboy Shoot was gone due to the fact that I could not share that with my Uncle Frank. So I went and shot – heartless.

It was great, but it was not what I needed. What I needed was my family and they were all coming from all over the country and would be in soon.

So I went home to clean up and head back to the farm – and when I got home, I found my most beautiful and wonderful wife laying in a ball crying, crying, crying.

Pacing back and forth and crying, crying, crying.

I had no idea what was wrong but she was in pain. Bad pain. So I put her in the car and was taking her to the emergency room - but even through her pain, she looked at me and told me to go change clothes because I wasn’t going anywhere with her dressed up in those ridiculous cowboy clothes!

Even in the face of pain – my baby has her sense of style!

So I took her to the hospital and took care of getting the little girl to somewhere safer where she was not so freaked out by her momma being sick.

And the doctors, x-rayed, sonogrammed, poked, prodded and medicated – but they said everything looked fine……………..

Yea, that’s why she was hurting so bad – everything was just fine……………..

We’re a-thinin’ it was her gall bladder. The doctor gave her some stuff to make it stop hurting. Two shots full of it, so in a demerol bliss my girl sent me from the hospital to the funeral home.

Yea, I’m up for husband of the year award – because her daughter’s boyfriend came and took her home from the hospital.

At the funeral home, I faced all of my relatives and we all hugged and told stories and then went back to the big house and ate – more food than you could possibly imagine. Country folks believe in loving you with food and that is a great source of comfort in times like these.

My Uncle Frank was well thought of in many parts of the world and they came from near and far. I had every living relative, except my mother, there for the funeral. I could not figure out how to get my mother out of the convalescent home and deal with her while doing all that I had to do – so I left her there.

Yea, I’m up for son of the year as well……………..

The funeral was beautiful. Simply amazing. I got to go up and have a moment of reflection at the pulpit, which was probably the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done. With my lip quivering I stood tall and told everyone to remember the stories and to share them often and in that way he would always be with us.

I almost didn’t make it, but my amazingly wonderful wife was sitting there praying for me and I swear to you that I could feel that and I got through it.

Then I got the message from the convalescent home about my mother “breaking out” – twice - and trying to go to the church for the funeral. She thought it was across the street instead of 40 miles away.

So yea, I was in some trouble for that. I took her some breakfast this morning and I threw myself at the mercy of the court.

I’m still in trouble.

But we’ll see how everything goes. I have no idea what the plans are. I would imagine that my Aunt Jackie would move back to Baton Rouge to be near her kids but we’ll all cross that bridge when it comes.

In the meantime, I’m just sad deep in my heart – but also proud to have known a man so rare.

So today, I ask each of you to go find someone you love but haven’t had time to spend some time with lately – and spend time with them.

Love them and tell them so.

I think it matters.


Monday Charades

Thursday, September 13, 2007


We are all born with a hole in our hearts, and we spend most of our lives looking for the thing that will fill it.

Some never find it.

But I have.

And that truly makes me the luckiest boy in the world.

I'm whole. Or, at least my hole is whole.

But please don't confuse that with holiness.

I hope your day is full and that your very own hole is filled.

And you can take that however you want to.............


Monday, September 10, 2007

Golden Beagles and Other Assorted Golden Thoughts

Went Saturday evening over to my "unofficial" family gathering to watch some football. Our school was playing Tennessee on pay-per-view.

Back story: Back in the day, I lived and died with football. I would go to all the games and sit and watch with anticipation and/or dread - depending on the circumstances, of course.

I loved when we won and died when we lost. Luckily we normally win 8 or 9 games a year so the highs were better than the lows. When we would play our in-state brethern I would be a nervous wreck. Luckily, again, in my 5 years of college we were 9-1 against those dirty bastards from Ole Miss and Mississippi State.

The University of Southern Mississippi is famous for beating people we don't have any business beating.

But for the past decade, I just haven't given a shit. I lost the mojo for caring. Or as they say, "The world has moved on".

But I watched Saturday, for a while at least.

I have made the journey to Tennessee a few times in my life. There's nothing quite like that - except if you're a yankee and go to Michigan, I guess.................

108,000 screaming people in one place is actually quite impressive. But OMG, most of them are serious HILLBILLIES.

Anyway, I watched my Golden Eagles kick Tennessee's ass in the first half. I saw, just like in days of old, how we can handle men the size of giants with confidence.

And again, I was sucked in - but reality, oh yea, reality soon set in. I had forgotten the curse of the SEC officials and how the breaks never go to the poor cousins. Then I watched Tennesee run off several scores and we lost.

So the bubble was busted again.

Now I'm back to my apathy and it actually feels better.

So does that make me a fair weather fan? Yep. Guilty as charged.

But I had a good time. I finally got to introduce my lovely wife to my best friends - the ones I was raised with. And except for a trip that went a little to far into the past, it was fun for me.

When you grow up and start a seperate life, you forget where you came from. Don't really know why that happens but it does something to you when you are reminded of those times past.

And maybe that's the great thing about getting older - you can relive the old times without actually having to live them again.

A thousand stories - with hindsight for your guide!

I hope all of you had a great weekend.

I was, once again, reminded that I am the luckiest boy in the world. I'm the boy that loves his wife more than anything in the world and I wouldn't trade that for all the memories in the world.

God Bless.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Addition to Bringing It All Back Home......

Also wanted to post the liner note from this album.

One of the things I miss about LP's is the smell and feel of them along with the amazing pictures and words that you could hold and caress.

It's just not the same with a CD package, no matter how many "booklets" they include. I've got the booklet that was included in my album set of Bob Dylan Biograph and I have the tiny bookelt that was included in the CD set. They both say the same thing, but it's just not the same. Kind of like a midget book for little people.........

But I digress again and again - but hell, it's my blog and I can do what I want to.

Here are the liner notes. I'll include these without any commentary because there is nothing I could say about this mans words here that would do any justice. I can't say I understand enough to make any sense of it, but I surely do like reading them!

But I will warn you that the punctuation, or lack there of, is as he wrote it.

Who am I to tamper with a master's work?

i'm standing there watching the parade/
feeling combination of sleepy john estes.
jayne mansfield. humphry bogart/morti-
mer snerd. murph the surf and so forth/
erotic hitchhiker wearing japanese
blanket. gets my attention by asking didn't
he see me at this hootenanny down in
puerto vallarta, mexico/i say no you must
be mistaken. i happen to be one of the
Supremes/then he rips off his blanket
an' suddenly becomes a middle-aged druggist.
up for district attorney. he starts scream-
ing at me you're the one. you're the one
that's been causing all them riots over in
vietnam. immediately turns t' a bunch of
people an' says if elected, he'll have me
electrocuted publicly on the next fourth
of july. i look around an' all these people
he's talking to are carrying blowtorches/
needless t' say, i split fast go back t' the
nice quiet country. am standing there writing
WHAAT? on my favorite wall when who should
pass by in a jet plane but my recording
engineer "i'm here t' pick up you and your
lastest works of art. do you need any help
with anything?''


my songs're written with the kettledrum
in mind/a touch of any anxious color. un-
mentionable. obvious. an' people perhaps
like a soft brazilian singer . . . i have
given up at making any attempt at perfection/
the fact that the white house is filled with
leaders that've never been t' the apollo
theater amazes me. why allen ginsberg was
not chosen t' read poetry at the inauguration
boggles my mind/if someone thinks norman
mailer is more important than hank williams
that's fine. i have no arguments an' i
never drink milk. i would rather model har-
monica holders than discuss aztec anthropology/
english literature. or history of the united
nations. i accept chaos. I am not sure whether
it accepts me. i know there're some people terrified
of the bomb. but there are other people terrified
t' be seen carrying a modern screen magazine.
experience teaches that silence terrifies people
the most . . . i am convinced that all souls have
some superior t' deal with/like the school
system, an invisible circle of which no one
can think without consulting someone/in the
face of this, responsibility/security, success
mean absolutely nothing. . . i would not want
t' be bach. mozart. tolstoy. joe hill. gertrude
stein or james dean/they are all dead. the
Great books've been written. the Great sayings
have all been said/I am about t' sketch You
a picture of what goes on around here some-
times. though I don't understand too well
myself what's really happening. i do know
that we're all gonna die someday an' that no
death has ever stopped the world. my poems
are written in a rhythm of unpoetic distortion/
divided by pierced ears. false eyelashes/sub-
tracted by people constantly torturing each
other. with a melodic purring line of descriptive
hollowness -- seen at times through dark sunglasses
an' other forms of psychic explosion. a song is
anything that can walk by itself/i am called
a songwriter. a poem is a naked person . . . some
people say that i am a poet

(end of pause)

an' so i answer my recording engineer
"yes. well i could use some help in getting
this wall in the plane"

-- By Bob Dylan

Bringin' It All Back Home - 42 years later......

I was listening to Bob Dylan this morning. You know, REALLY listening. And once again, my complete fascination with him was in full gear.

There are so many things in this world that I don't understand but appreciate and Bobby is certainly at the top of that heap along with other "poets" such as Jim Morrison and Gram Parsons and so many others.

It just seems that Bobby was the only one that survived to explore the totality of his craft.

His most amazing journey, as far as I am concerned is the fact that he has been constantly touring except for his self-imposed "exile" in the late sixties. And if you don't know all the B.S. that swirled around that time, just buy a book and read about the mystical motorcycle wreck that either did or didn't happen and about how he was trying to be "normal" because he was tired of all the fame and responsibility that was thrust upon him, unwanted, by an adoring public and all of the cheif protesters.

But I digress.


The album I was listening to was "Bringing It All Back Home" which was released on March 22, 1965. Since I was only 4 years old, I didn't run out and buy it. But I did later. When I was old enough to understand it. Which was sometime in my mid-thirties.

For me, it took decades, not years to appreciate Bob Dylan.

But boy, when it hit, it hit hard.........

The songs on this album are amazing from top to bottom:

Subterranean Homesick Blues

She Belongs To Me

Maggie's Farm

Love Minus Zero/No Limit

Outlaw Blues

On The Road Again

Bob Dylans 115th Dream

Mr. Tamborine Man

Gates of Eden

It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)

It's All Over Now, Baby Blue

Wow, an album with "Gates of Eden" AND "It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding). Two towering examples of something that goes way beyond music and takes on an otherworldy feel.

But the one I was diggin' this morning was "Bob Dylans 115th Dream". A fun song. A really fun song actually about something. Yea, something silly - but at least it's about SOMETHING besides poetry that takes you to a place that makes you uncomfortable - and you don't even know why!

Check out the lyrics..............

I was riding on the Mayflower

When I thought I spied some land

I yelled for Captain Arab

I have yuh understand

Who came running to the deck

Said, "Boys, forget the whale

Look on over yonder

Cut the engines

Change the sail

Haul on the bowline

We sang that melody

Like all tough sailors do

When they are far away at sea

"I think I'll call it America"

I said as we hit land

I took a deep breath

I fell down, I could not stand

Captain Arab he started

Writing up some deeds

He said, "Let's set up a fort

And start buying the place with beads"

Just then this cop comes down the street

Crazy as a loon

He throw us all in jail

For carryin' harpoons

Ah me I busted out

Don't even ask me how

I went to get some help

I walked by a Guernsey cow

Who directed me down

To the Bowery slums

Where people carried signs around

Saying, "Ban the bums"

I jumped right into line

Sayin', "I hope that I'm not late

"When I realized I hadn't eaten

For five days straight

I went into a restaurant

Lookin' for the cook

I told them I was the editor

Of a famous etiquette book

The waitress he was handsome

He wore a powder blue cape

I ordered some suzette, I said

"Could you please make that crepe"

Just then the whole kitchen exploded

From boilin' fat

Food was flying everywhere

And I left without my hat

Now, I didn't mean to be nosy

But I went into a bank

To get some bail for Arab

And all the boys back in the tank

They asked me for some collateral

And I pulled down my pants

They threw me in the alley

When up comes this girl from France

Who invited me to her house

I went, but she had a friend

Who knocked me out

And robbed my boots

And I was on the street again

Well, I rapped upon a house

With the U.S. flag upon display

I said, "Could you help me out

I got some friends down the way"

The man says, "Get out of here

I'll tear you limb from limb"

I said, "You know they refused Jesus, too"

He said, "You're not Him

Get out of here before I break your bones

I ain't your pop"

I decided to have him arrested

And I went looking for a cop

I ran right outside

And I hopped inside a cab

I went out the other door

This Englishman said, "Fab"

As he saw me leap a hot dog stand

And a chariot that stood

Parked across from a building

Advertising brotherhood

I ran right through the front door

Like a hobo sailor does

But it was just a funeral parlor

And the man asked me who I was

I repeated that my friends

Were all in jail, with a sigh

He gave me his card

He said, "Call me if they die"

I shook his hand and said goodbye

Ran out to the street

When a bowling ball came down the road

And knocked me off my feet

A pay phone was ringing

It just about blew my mind

When I picked it up and said hello

This foot came through the line

Well, by this time I was fed up

At tryin' to make a stab

At bringin' back any help

For my friends and Captain Arab

I decided to flip a coin

Like either heads or tails

Would let me know if I should go

Back to ship or back to jail

So I hocked my sailor suit

And I got a coin to flip

It came up tails

It rhymed with sails

So I made it back to the ship

Well, I got back and took

The parkin' ticket off the mast

I was ripping it to shreds

When this coast guard boat went past

They asked me my name

And I said, "Captain Kidd"

They believed me but

They wanted to know

What exactly that I did

I said for the Pope of Eruke

I was employed

They let me go right away

They were very paranoid

Well, the last I heard of Arab

He was stuck on a whale

That was married to the deputy

Sheriff of the jail

But the funniest thing was

When I was leavin' the bay

I saw three ships a-sailin'

They were all heading my way

I asked the captain what his name was

And how come he didn't drive a truck

He said his name was Columbus

I just said, "Good luck."

And the most amazing thing for me about all this song - and it is a LOT of song - is the fact that I have seen him stand on stage and sing every word. How in the world can a man remember those lyrics?

Like I said - amazing.

So today, go get you some Dylan, sit back and marvel at the most amazing thing you've ever heard.


Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Labor Day

Does anyone not actually "labor" on Labor Day?

Whether it's mowing the yard, grilling on the barbie or plowing through the herds at the mall, doesn't everyone sweat just a bit on this day.

Except for the people that have those jobs that have to work on Labor Day. They truly do labor - but hey, someone's got to man those sales.............

Anyway, I was just thinking of all that as I worked up a nice lathered sweat on Monday.

I watched the 300 or so motorcycles that seem to live on my street go forth for a Labor Day Ride.

Have I mentioned lately that I miss my motorcycle?

Oh yea.

But so it goes.

And so do I.

Peace be on you.