Let it grow. Or not…

Yesterday I made “an announcement” to 3 friends as we traveled the back roads from Pittsburg, KS to Springfield. Maybe only 2 of them heard me; Bruce mighta been snoozing at the time.
We were coming home after a fantastic house concert by Paul Thorn at the Coda Concert House in Joplin and a fabulous Sunday morning brunch whipped up by Rob&Carol at their place.
The 6 of us met for a bite before the show, had a drink after at a hipster bar, and then sat around until past the witching hour telling yarns.
The vittles; the tunes; the libations; the conversation; the drive.
Smile and Smile again and again.

My “announcement”?

It was a resolution based on something that popped into my head right after Paul Thorn sang my favorite song (“you might be wrong”)…and I wasn’t sure if I would even share my thinking with Shelly. But as we looked for the camel farm (Jeanette swears it’s somewhere out there in western Missouri….someday we’ll find it!!) the thought popped into my head again, and my internal conversation was: “if I keep this idea to myself, I’ll never carry through!”
Right then and there I decided to share it with my blue highways chums.

Now I’m going public…with the exception of one detail.
That detail is political. Some people who I love will judge me for it. I understand that. (Listen to Paul Thorn’s “I don’t like half the people I love.”)
So I’m keeping that detail on a “need to know” basis….

My “resolution”?

It’s all about my hair….and when to cut it.
I have never been all that fond of barber shops or clip joints. (And that was even before I lost a LOT of money in a hair cutting franchise, which included a legal battle with the Faux Cowboy Franchisor….)

In the past couple of weeks a few people have commented on the length of my locks.
My next door neighbor: “this is the longest your hair has been since I’ve known you.”
My Dad: “your Mom and I didn’t care about how long you boys let you hair grow as long as you kept it clean.” (My memory of those pre- and post-Army conversations re my hair length are a tad bit different. Just sayin’)
Another friend in the building: “I think you’re about ready for a ponytail. My son has one.”
None of the comments came across as complaints…

Keeping an electronic journal has some advantages, e.g. I know that I got my last haircut at 2 pm on Wednesday, March 15 at the Supercuts at 1306 E. Battlefield from my “regular stylist” Whitney. She has given me my last 3 cuts. Before 3/25/18 she took the shears to me in May of 2017 and April of 2016. (I really don’t like barber chairs….)

So here’s my announcement/resolution:
I am not getting a haircut until either:
(1) my hair is long enough to donate to Locks of Love without having to get a buzz cut, or
(2) a certain event takes place.

Re the latter, I did say that it is political…and I will say this much: it has nothing to do with someone else sitting behind the desk in the oval office. (That will be cause for letting my hair down, for celebrating and for partying like mad….but it is not the condition that will result in me finding out if Whitney is still wielding the tools of her trade.)

I’m expecting to have my first ponytail sometime in 2019.
Shelly is talking about me wearing a man bun.
So far nobody has said anything about me getting dreads.

I’m at 348 days and counting.

Bucket List Update

Man-oh-man do I need to get busy or what??
I have been a total sluggard since I posted my bucket list just a bit short of two years ago, mid-march of ’17. Yet somehow I was diagnosed with fatigue on my birthday last September and advised to slow down…
And I had TOTALLY forgotten about the “My ultimate bucket list” book that I had snatched from the bargain bin…which has been ignored.

The first 8 items on my bucket list from 12/3/12 are still there. Untouched. Many not even thought about. Maybe I need to do something about that, at least for a few of them.
I also need to add one:
“Go up in a single engine plane with Dad and Wayne.” (Short version: I won a 2 hour flight at a silent auction fundraiser. That was back in late 2017. We haven’t been able to make Dad and Wayne’s schedules mesh.
I have never seen Wayne. We have exchanged several texts. We’ve chatted on the phone some. Wayne has offered to fly to Farmington where we’d pick up/drop off Tissell*. That would depend on whether Dad was coming over to stay with my sister, or if he was heading home to Doe Run. Dad would love flying across the state.
We’d take the longer, scenic, southern route with Dad in the plane. That trip would take a lot more than 2 hours. Wayne didn’t have to offer this.
I had heard that he was a fine guy the night that I stole the flight, valued at $800, for only $180 bucks. Without even laying eyes on Wayne I’m positive that he is a helluva guy. I expect Tissell* to feel the same way. Now I just need to get Wayne, me and the 92+ year old up in the air!!)

Back to my B.L.
I did get to the Rock-n-Roll HOF in 2013. But we were only there for a few hours. Not nearly long enough. I need to get back there. 2019 seems like it would be a good year to visit Cleveland….and Wooster.
This time I need to plan my trip so that I can knock off the next item on the list. And the one before too. I’m thinking I will be able to experience weightlessness on some of the 17 roller coasters at Cedar Point…tied for second most in the world.

The item “Take a road trip thru the lower 48” lacks precision. I think it would be very cool to take one roadtrip that did get you into all 48, but I’m not sure that is what I had in mind. I have taken a road trip or 3 since 12/3/12, and will be taking more. As for now, I’d like to cross off the remaining 18 that I haven’t been in since then. Visiting 30 so far is not all that shabby…

Of the last 12 B.L. items, I .can only cross off two of them, both music related: we’ve seen 3 shows at Red Rocks; and Jackson Browne 4 times.
-=-=-=
My 12/3/12 Bucket List has 24 items.
I have been able to cross off only 4. (and that includes a favorable interpretation of the roadtrip item…)
That is pretty pathetic.
And unless I win lotto, unexpectedly inherit a huge chunck of change or become friends with someone like Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie) I most likely won’t cross off many of the other items on the list, although they aren’t really all that spendy.
That’s OK, because if I wrote the list today a bunch of earlier items wouldn’t make the list. They’d be replaced with things like this:
Take a road trip that includes: seeing old friends; visiting new venues; eating something delicious with old friends; making plans to see each other again.

Venues would have a separate list:
9:30 Club in D.C.
The Tower Theatre in Upper Darby
Stubbs in Austin
…just to name a few

So would artists:
Adele
War on Drugs
Don Henley
…and more. LOTS more.

Someday soon I need to finally take that spin thru the bargain bin b.l. book. I’ll leave it here beside my laptop for awhile and see what happens….

NOTE:
*Tissell is my dad’s abbreviated nickname.
Melvin’s full moniker: Melviney You-Tissell You-Bertel You-Tom-Tom Bud Fartner
There is story there.
That’s for another time.
Be.

2018 Christmas Letter & JibJab

The dreaded letter (reproduced below if you dare) will get sent to some folks via e-mail.  They’ll also get this link to the JibJab: https://www.jibjab.com/view/make/disco_christmas/b079887c-1399-46b3-99d9-734253cdf3e0

-=-==–=-=

Hope your 2018 has been a good year. Mine was a dandy. Saw more live music than ever. It was Awesome.

Crossed several artists off my “bucket list”…a bunch of old coots like me: Moody Blues, Steve Winwood, Poco, Dave Mason, Judy Collins, Bruce Hornsby, Todd Rundgren, Gordon Lightfoot.
One of my bucket list shows was the best show I saw in 2018….and I saw a LOT. The concert on June 8 at The Peabody in STL was an absolute Spectacle. Hard to describe. And unforgettable. David Byrne ROCKS!!
One bucket list artist was terrible. Thankfully sweet Judy blue eyes played and sang with Stephen Stills. He sux. It made me sad. She can still sing. And she can still rock it in heels.

I stalked a couple of folks in 2018….twice I saw 3 shows in a 4 day span.
I saw Neil Young’s solo acoustic tour in STL, and then in Chicago twice. Killer. (Plus I got to spend time with my bestie from my first college experiences. Charlie babysat me often when I was hitting the sauce….Thanks!)
Shelly and I saw the Wheels of Soul tour in STL, and twice at Red Rocks. The show was the Tedeschi Trucks Band, with the Drive-by Truckers and Marcus King opening. Three great nights.

Had an absolute blast at Folk Alliance in KC in February. I shoulda let Jeanette talk me into this years ago!! Music, music, music. Not many zzzzz’s while at FAI.
She also talked me into square dancing at the Rock House. Do-si-do Mofo!!!

I made a solo trip to Orygun. Saw several friends. Stayed in some interesting places: the Bad Boy room at The White Eagle in PDX; the lighthouse room at a small property in Yachats; a tent on the banks of the Metolius River. Crossed another artist off my list when I saw Amos Lee twice in 6 days. Both times with friends.
A friend who I hadn’t seen in 51 years fixed us breakfast in Bend. We coulda talked longer. Next time.

There were a few lowlights too.
1. My garden was disappointing. I’ll blame it on the weather. It was hot. And dry. Then it turned cool and wet. Then the cycle started all over again. It was unpredictable, even for this schizophrenic state.
Had luck with a couple of crops: radishes and green beans. Two of my favorites were slim pickens: tomatoes and brussel sprouts. The latter were abysmal. WTF?
2. On my birthday I was diagnosed with “Fatigue”…and I have the document from the doc to prove it. That’s what I get for burning the candle at both ends for too long. So I slowed down…a little, for a little while. I don’t ever expect to “act my age”…why the heck would I want to do that? But moderation in some things, more sleep, and more H20 might be smart.
3. I gave a house full of people a “do you remember the Thanksgiving when” story, but I did learn a new word: if you wanta get the details of my syncope event go to:  http://slw913.com/life-events/isnt-it-ironic-or-not/

The highlight of my 2018 was the first weekend of October.
I threw myself a party to celebrate completing 70 trips around the sun. The 25,590 Day Shindig took place at The Rock House in Reeds Spring 23 days after my birthday. The timing was driven by the schedules of the bands out of KC, and by my own concert schedule.
The party was Epic. Family, friends, music, food, more music, a pie auction and a silent auction of items by some artist and musician friends to benefit one of my favorite non-profits: The Rock House Center for the Arts. Then there was more music.
Some of the guests traveled from Floriduh, Hotlanta, Chicago, or the other side of MO. We took over the Shady Acre motel in Branson West for the entire weekend, and spilled over into another motel.
Damn…I’m a lucky old coot.

One more highlight ahead of us in 2018: Shelly and I will be making our “Third Annual” trip to Gulf Shores, AL at the end of December. This time we booked for 10 days at the beach.
We don’t do much while we’re there….and we love that. We watch the sunrise over the gulf in the morning; go for a morning walk; have brunch and mimosas on the balcony; take a nap; take another walk; watch sunset on the gulf; binge watch DVDs that we pack for the trip. Repeat.
Year 3 of our Christmas at the beach is gonna have a couple of special treats: guests after Christmas. Bruce&Jeanette (they ARE The Rock House) will be crashing in the condo’s second bedroom for a few nights after visiting her folks and family in Nashville. Tom&Gloria will be coming down from Cumming, GA and will be at the same property. There will probably be a picture and a story or two.

I’ve never been much on planning. More about just being. But I do have a few things I wanta do in 2019:
1. See more live music than I saw this year. That won’t be easy. I’m off to a good start with 5 concert and 2 festival tickets in hand already for events in 2019.
2. Get to Orygun in late August or early September for at least a week.
3. Get to Colorado in July…for longer than we did this year. That will make both of us happy.
4. Take a road trip “back east” after the 15th Annual Music Festival. Check off a few bucket list items…and spend time with friends in several cites&states….some who I haven’t seen in double-digit years.
A 3 week trip for me; 1 week for Shelly. Not sure where her flight will land. Shelly will mark several states off her bucket list, and I’ll get to Vermont for the first time and round out the lower 48.
I wanta ride some roller coasters at Cedar Point. I wanta spend more time at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I wanta see Niagara Falls. I wanta see live music in several cities and venues. This roadtrip is a bit of a BHAG. Stay tuned.

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Happy New Year. All the best. Keep in touch. Hug the people you love. Be. Just Be.

steve

Love is The Answer

It’s short. It’s simple. It’s true. Love trumps hate. Period.

The 33rd Imagine Concert was the last “large venue” concert of the year for me, unless something unforeseen happens. I saw LOTS of large venue shows in 2018.
12/8/18 was a great evening in too many ways to list….but I’ll try:
Friends
Bar food
Music
Music by friends
Music with friends
Pie
All of it with the person I love, and who loves me.
Damn, I’m a lucky old coot.

Today started with brunch in a hotel here in town. Got the room for a steal in a silent auction for a good cause. Got stuck in an elevator on the way down to eat. Could see the front desk across the atrium as we called for help. The person who caught it after we were on the elevator seemed to be having a bad day. Laughing woulda made it better for her.
It did for me.
Just sayin’.

Came home and listened to The White Album. I’m getting ready to spin disc 1 again.
Earlier, Shelly and I sat on the couch and listened to the album that I heard for the very first time just over fifty years ago.
A couple of years ago I wrote about “first time tunes”…FTTs. Songs, often with places attached, that are indelibly stored on my body’s hardrive. I used over 200 words to describe the first time I heard the White Album….in KC…in 1968.

The magic of music…and memories

As we listened to “While my guitar gently weeps,” I hummed and caterwauled along.
And thought:
about the lyrics;
about yesterday;
about John Lennon;
about my life today;
about my past;
about the future;
about being.

Just then the CD changer moved to the next disc: one that I burned of songs by many of the artists who I saw in 2018.
The first song that plays off my “mix tape” is by a guy who I finally crossed off my bucket list last year, seeing him twice in a six day stretch. Both times with friends from my first time living in Orygun.
Friends, music, pie…heaven.

I’ll be seeing Amos Lee again in just over 100 days in KC.
Damn, I’m a lucky old coot.
I expect him to sing this song on 3/26/19, which summarizes what I was thinking as I listened to the Fab 4 this morning and contemplated the meaning of being.

“I believe in the power
Of love, love, of love”

Thinking about firsts….part 2

I wrote about 7 “firsts” a year ago. Some fond memories there.

Only one First this time. A sound.
A sound that is unmistakeable, and not just the first time it’s heard.
It’s the power. All that power. The sound of an ocean is a beautiful sound.
The first time I heard it was almost 47 years ago.

I had been at Ft. Bragg only a few weeks. I didn’t know the guy with the brand new Firebird all that well. Or the fellow riding shotgun. Dave and Dale, respectively.
The former a sergeant, back from Vietnam and with some high level security clearance job. Dave was a classic southern gentleman.
The latter a short timer; an E-2 who had been busted a few times. Dale was a classic bay area hippie.
Each of us had our own preferred drug: beer for Dave; weed for me; hallucinogens for Dale. We all enjoyed sharing; Dave was generous with his hash.
Some of the details of the trip are quite foggy. That woulda been the case days later, but some of the details seems like it was yesterday.

January 1, 1971 was on a Friday. It was just about 500 miles from the JFK Center for Military Intelligence to Daytona, Beach. An easy 10 hours if you can’t hit the road until after 5 on New Year’s Eve, and if you wanta make some stops along the way for refreshments and to feed your head. Just over 7 hours if you drive it with purpose, which we did on the return trip.

The three us welcomed the new year somewhere on I-95 in south Georgia. We made it to hotel row in Daytona Beach at about 3 in the morning that 1/1/71.
No reservations. The trip had been relatively impromptu after all.

Dave went in alone to secure a double room, not that there would be all that much sleeping in the 60 hours or so that we’d be in town.
Dave had this authoritative presence, so we expected securing a room to be a snap. He was a responsible driver too, all things considered.

After Dave had been rebuffed a few times (in spite of his smile and charm), we set a rendezvous time and place at 6 am at a Denny’s.
He continued the quest for a room, with Dale passed out in the back seat.
I headed to see an ocean for the very first time.
-=-=-=
It was dark as I approached the Atlantic for the first time. At 22 and fresh out of Basic Training, 800 miles away from home…I was finally going to see an ocean!!

I heard it before I saw it.
I could discern the movement of the waves before I saw it.That sound was awesome….and awe inspiring.
It still is.
I can just sit and listen to it. Morning, noon or night. Anytime. Any place. Any weather.
Listen. Just listen to the power.
Repeat.

It’s a Christmas Letter…you’ve been warned

The following went to quite a few folks via e-mail.  Most of them will also get a JibJab.
-=-=-=-=

I hope your 2017 has been a good one. Mine has been pretty awesome. I’m a lucky guy.

1/1/17 began with coffee, waffles and the hair of the dog with friends at my favorite breakfast place here in Springfield, MO. We welcomed in the year at the late show by Big Smith at the Gillioz.
In lots of ways that pretty much sums up my 2017: music and friends; friends and music. Plus roadtrips.

I could call the conversation in my head in early March an epiphany. It was on a long walk alongside Sinking Creek at Echo Bluff S.P. I decided that if a band that I wanted to see was playing within 4 hours of me that I’d buy tickets. What happened next is referred to as “Ticket Buying Thursday” in my journal.
That day I bought tickets to: Dawes at Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa; Joe Jackson at the Uptown Theater in KC; Tom Petty (with Joe Walsh opening) in Little Rock; and Tedeschi Trucks (with Hot Tuna and the Wood Brothers opening) at The Amp in Rogers.

Three of the highlights of 2017:
1. My friends Tom&Gloria came from Atlanta in early June to attend the 13th Annual Rock House Summer Festival. The next day the four of us headed to Piney River Brewing in Bucyrus, MO for an afternoon with Bob&Jeff of The Rainmakers.
2. In July my son met us in Golden and stayed with us a couple of nights at an AirBnB. Joseph, Shelly and I saw The Avett Brothers (with Shovels and Rope opening) at Red Rocks. He and I had a couple of rambling late night chats.
3. In October my recently retired-from-NASA “rocket scientist” friend Troy and his better half Kathy came in from Floriduh and went to a show with us at The Rock House. The next day the four of us watched the Hawgs get spanked by Auburn in Fayetteville. Troy gave us the tour and showed us his name etched in the walk.

There were lots of other highlights:
A road trip to the Grand Canyon, Zion, Mesa Verde. One of the highlights was meeting up with my cousin Allison and her family in Alamosa, CO as they headed home and we headed for Leadville.
Daily walk-and-talks on the phone with my 91 year old Dad. Lots of reminiscing. Lots of talking hoops. He and I saw several games together….fun times.
A 5 year “Meet-aversary” for me & Shelly.
Bought myself a new car…a Prius4.
Weddings for both of Shelly’s sons.
Lots and lots of concerts in lots of different venues.
House concerts. 🙂 and 🙂 again.
Digging in the dirt and harvesting veggies from my garden boxes.
Attending quite a few basketball games, which included watching some “one and dones.”

Not many lowlights this year, and they were really just blips:
My new car got creased when some guy backed into it less than 2 weeks after I bought it. JEEZ.
Some cretin(s) broke into the Prius while we were on our roadtrip.
The thieves stole all the manuals to the car….and the backpack that I used as a tackle box. Even though I haven’t fished all that much recently, that was the probably the worst thing that happened to me in 2017. I had some “old faithful” lures in the backpack that had moved to Orygun with me when I left Missouri in 1976…never expecting to live in the ShowMe state again.
I didn’t make it to OR in 2017. Hopefully I can get back to where my heart is in 2018.
I didn’t have as many conversations with friends as I would’ve liked. Left quite a few voice-mails or sent texts that were never returned. Bummer.

Looking forward to 2018 being “SSDD”: friends & family, music, roadtrips, garden, hoops, “walk-and-talks.” NOTE: there will be a birthday party in mid-Sept as I wrap up my 70th trip around the sun. Whodda thought that I would ever live this long after all the stupid things I’ve done. More on that later….

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Happy New Year. All the best. Keep in touch. Hug the people you love. Be. Just Be.

steve

Aunt Esther’s 8 words of wisdom

I used to write letters. Letters that traveled here-and-there in envelopes with a USPS stamp.

I still write letters. But not all that many, and not all that often.
I don’t have to buy all that many “forever stamps” these days.

My Dad’s side of the family has always written lots of letters. I don’t know where this propensity to write letters falls in the nature-nurture debate.

I recently learned that Uncle Gilbert, the oldest of dad’s four siblings, wrote hundreds of letters to his oldest child…and she held on to all of them!! Good for her. And good for him.

My Dad writes letters and notes, including thank you cards, fairly often. Sometimes he sends the very same letter to me and my two younger siblings. (Those specific letters are the subject for another day….)
I have lots of those letters and cards stuck away. There are some good ones. 🙂

When my kids were pre-teens I tried to get them to write letters to my folks, in the hopes of getting some family history down in writing. There was some success, but not nearly as much as I would’ve liked. I do have electronic copies of 20+ letters between my kids and my folks. I wish that number had an extra zero in it. I haven’t read any of those letters in double-digit years, but I recently confirmed that they are on the hard-drive of this laptop, and are backed-up.
-=-=-=-=
I was an active letter writer once upon a time, including several to some senators while I was stationed at Ft. Bragg. I provided them specific examples of how army life was very different from what I was reading about in Newsweek and Look.

I wish I had kept copies of some of the letters I wrote, and of the letters I got in return, whether it was from “public servants” or from friends over the years. I’m pretty sure that there were some gems there. Especially the ones that got me summoned to a session with my company commander and later with a major general at the JFK Center for Special Warfare. (I was a PIA of a soldier. What a surprise….)
-=-=-=
I have a friend from “back in the day” who has joined me and “Tissell” at some junior college basketball games when I head to the Leadbelt to take in a MAC basketball game. (Everybody who grew up in Elvins had a nickname. Dad’s is on my folk’s headstone at the Weiss cemetery. But the story behind the nickname “Tissell” will have to wait…)

I bring this up, because Rick has a letter that I wrote him when we were in the service. Most likely I wrote it from Ft. Bragg, although it could’ve been from Ft. Leonard Wood. I don’t know where Rick was when he received the letter.

I haven’t seen the letter myself. Rick mentioned it to me when we had breakfast right after I had left Floriduh and moved back to MO. A little while later, there was an electrical fire at his house that resulted in significant smoke damage. When they were able to move back home after a lengthy smoke and water restoration effort, they came back to LOTS of boxes.

“The letter” is in one of those many boxes. Someday Rick will find it again. I look forward to reading that letter. He says it’s a doozy.
-=-=-=
My ex had a great aunt who was known for saying “don’t get old and dilapidated…it’s bad business.” I loved that!!! When we made our annual visit to Missouri, we always tried to have a meal with Aunt Esther. It’s hard to believe that she passed away over 27 years ago, in March 1990.

She was 92 the last time I saw her, but I can still see her smile as she admonished us as we headed out: “Don’t get old and dilapidated. It’s bad business”

She wrote those 8 words in every letter or card we ever got from her. When she had been dead for a little while (I don’t think it had even been a year) I asked my wife where she had put the cards and letters from her Aunt Esther.

“I threw them all away…”

I couldn’t believe it. I thought she must be kidding.
“You didn’t keep ANY of her letters? Not even one? There is nowhere to read ‘don’t get old and dilapidated…it’s bad business’ in her handwriting? You didn’t keep any of them?”

“No. They are all gone. I threw them away.”

It was obvious that my ex was very special to her Aunt Esther. I’ll never understand why she didn’t keep at least one letter. Just one.
I’d love to see that phrase again, in her own handwriting.
Just once.

I’ve taken Aunt Esther’s words of wisdom to heart. Keep moving…don’t get old.
I’ve taken this lady’s words of wisdom to heart too.
“…We can’t do it over
They say it’s now or never and all we’re ever gettin’ is older
Before we get to heaven, baby let’s give ’em hell…”

The Pretender

Birthday week of 2017 was a doozy. Music. Sunshine. Friends. Food. Family. Frolicking. Revelry. Reminiscing. More music…and a tad bit of introspection.

We had been in Orygun less than 3 months when Jackson Browne released “The Pretender.” If I had a “ben franklin” for every time I have played the album since I bought the first vinyl copy in 1976, it woulda paid for my new Prius.
The Pretender is still on my 5-CD changer after keeping me company all week….and providing lots of fodder for both reminiscing and introspection.

Lyrics, links and a {comment} or two follow… No singer-songwriter has written more songs that make me reflect on my way of life, my directions and where I am, where I’ve been, and what I’ve done than Jackson Browne.
-=-=-=-=

The Fuse
“….Whatever it is you might think you have
You have nothing to lose
Through every dead and living thing
Time runs like a fuse
And the fuse is burning…”
{Does a short fuse burn faster? It sure seems like it…}

Your Bright Baby Blues
“…Everybody’s going somewhere
Riding just as fast as they can ride
I guess they’ve got a lot to do
Before they can rest assured
Their lives are justified…”

The Only Child
“… take good care of your mother
And remember to be kind…
…And when you’ve found another soul
Who sees into your own
Take good care of each other…”
{“Three things in human life are important. The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.” Henry James}

Daddy’s Tune
“…Living your life day after day
Soon all your plans and changes
Either fail or fade away…”
{Never been much of “a planner.” Probably moreso now than ever. My plans: live life day after day; be kind; enjoy every sandwich; listen to lots of music; give lots of hugs; repeat.}

Sleeps Dark and Silent Gate
“…Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder
Where the years have gone
They have all passed under
Sleep’s Dark and Silent Gate…”
{Lots of years have passed since I first had this album on repeat. I haven’t laid awake at night very often. But there has been lots of wondering…lots and lots of wondering.}

The Pretender
“…I’m gonna find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And we’ll fill in the missing colors
In each others paint by number dreams…”

{In the fall of 1976 I had absolutely no intentions of ever struggling for the legal tender. 6 years later I was starting a 14 year career with the largest accounting firm in the world…wearing wing tips, wool, silk and cotton….and “keeping score” by looking at the last line of page 1 of my Form 1040.
Several years ago my late friend and mentor John Crudele asked me if I had “taken a vow of poverty.” I told him that I was going to live rich and die poor….and that for the second time in my life I had found the girl that Jackson Browne had sung about. I have never been richer than I am in 2017.
I am a lucky guy. What more can anyone want? Friends, music, and someone to love….who loves you.
Don’t be stingy with your hugs.
Be.
Just Be.}

JMC called it…

I can hear John Crudele’s voice in my head like it was yesterday, but it was almost 20 years ago. Cancer took away JMC, his wisdom and his perfect answers over 3 years ago. But I’m pretty sure that if could ask him the very same question today, that there would only be a slight tweak to the answer.

My friend and mentor was my boss at the Lake Oswego, Orygun niche consulting firm where I worked from ’96 to ’00. Most of our work time together took place on the phone, since he lived in Nashville at the time.
In spring of 1998 I was getting ready to head to the project team site for a 2 day visit. The consultants were doing their magic at Hill crest Medical Center in Tulsa.

My background statement and my 4 word question: “I can’t remember the last time I was in Tulsa….if it ever was….if so, it was a long time ago. So what’s Tulsa like?”

John then: “It looks like it was hit by a neutron bomb.”
John’s 2017 answer: “It still looks like it was hit by a neutron bomb! There are lots of nice looking buildings and some beautiful churches…but all the people have been vaporized.”
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I landed at the Tulsa airport on the last flight into town that evening in ’98. There were very few cars on the highway as the cab took me to my downtown hotel. The cabby said it as normal traffic.

Two days later I asked the project manager what time I should have a cab pick me, and before I could finish my question he said “20 minutes.”
“But I didn’t tell you the time of my flight…”
“It doesn’t matter what time of day or what day of the week…it will take 20 minutes!”
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On any list you get via a Google search Tulsa is in the top 50 US cities based on population. Wikipedia has the city as #47. Ahead of New Orleans, Wichita, Tampa and St. Louis to name just a few.  (There is traffic in all those towns….)
I just spent three days and 2 nights in Tulsa. I enjoyed 2 great shows at Cain’s Ballroom and chatted with lots of nice folks.
But the town has the deadest streets I have ever seen in my life. Heck, the picture hanging in my hotel room even shows empty streets!

As usual, JMC described it perfectly and succinctly: Tulsa looks like it was hit by a neutron bomb.

NOTE:  these pictures were taken between 2 and 3 pm on a Wednesday.

He still calls me Willie

I had a walk-and-talk with an Army buddy one day last week. Tim is not the only person who ever called me Willie. He was one of several guys at Ft. Bragg that laid that one on me because of a basketball player named Willie Wise.

Shelly and I spent a night in Wooster, OH with Tim and Mary on our roadtrip in 2013. That was the first time I had seen them in over 41 years.

We hung out together a lot in the 14 months or so that Tim and I were stationed together at the JFK Center for Military Intelligence. We made a number of road trips from NC to OH in a little over a year. At least 7 trips. It was 8 or 9 hours each way. Tim&Mary had just started dating, and going with him to Wooster, OH was great fun for all of us. We didn’t get a lot of sleep.

Tim and I made a number of trips to Myrtle Beach too. Didn’t sleep much then either…

There are lots of stories from those days. These are my two favorites. For very different reasons. Only the first one has cost me any time sleeping….
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On one of our first trips to Ohio, we went to a club in the town where Tim went to college. The James Gang had played there often 4 or 5 years earlier.
Earlier that day Tim and I walked around the campus of his alma mater. He had graduated less than a year before our visit. (Joe Walsh only lasted one semester on campus; a few years earlier.)
Tim took me to the campus radio station where he spent four years on staff. He has one helluva radio voice!!
We walked around the Commons, past Taylor Hall and then to Prentice Hall. I knelt on the spot where Mary Ann Vecchio was photographed over the body of Jeffrey Miller 12 months earlier.
No amount of booze that evening in 1971, or all the elapsed days since, can erase the memory of Tim standing 265 feet away from where I knelt on the Kent State University campus. That’s how far the bullet traveled that killed Jeffrey Miller.

It hurts to think about what happened on 5/4/70, but I’ll never forgot that walk and that spot. Years later, walking around Dealy Plaza in Dallas where JFK was shot, I had the very same reaction: “it’s such a small place!”

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Until we visited Tim&Mary’s in 2013 I had blotted out the key element of my other favorite story with Tim. This happened at Ft. Bragg.

I remember it being in the wee hours.
I remember Tim sitting on the floor in the hall in the barracks as we talked.
I remember telling him that if he said something one more time that I would pour my beer over his head.
I remember Tim needing a towel after I doused him.
I remember him drying off and laughing it off.
But I didn’t remember what it was that I had told him to stop saying.

That early September evening in 2013, with Shelly and Tim sitting at the table and with me pacing around the dining room and kitchen, he said “will you stop that pacing? At least you don’t have a beer to pour over my head tonight.”
Eureka!! He had asked me to stop pacing repeatedly, and had been rewarded with a cold beer shampoo…

I am a notorious pacer. I can’t sit still for very long, especially if I’ve got a buzz on. And that night at the PSYOPs barracks, I’m sure I was wired, wound up and pacing.

I’m glad Tim has a good sense of humor.
I’m glad that he’s my friend all these years later.
And I’m especially glad that Shelly tolerates my pacing…especially when we’re at a venue listening to music and I “vanish.”