Who By Fire

Listen while you read: for Yom Kippur

And who by fire, who by water
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time
Who by the high ordeal, who by common trial
Who in your merry, merry month of May
Who by very slow decay
And who shall I say is calling?

And who in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt
And who by avalanche, who by powder
Who of his greed, who for his hunger
And who shall I say is calling?

And who by brave assent, who by accident
Who in solitude, who in this mirror
Who by his lady's command, who by his own hand
Who in mortal chains, who in power
And who shall I say is calling?
And who shall I say is calling?

~  Leonard Cohen

There have been many times during the year of writing this blog that I have had to do research on some event connected to the songs I've selected. I've learned a thing or two by doing so, and today is no exception. The holiest day of the year in Judaism, Yom Kippur is also known as the Day of Atonement. Not being Jewish (or anything religious for that matter), I had to google Yom Kippur, and one thing I learned is that Judaism is very complex! For Yom Kippur, there is fasting involved, as well as the avoidance of a few things, like bathing, perfume, leather shoes, and marital relations. I do not claim to understand this custom (nor do I understand other religious customs), but I honor and respect those who do celebrate their religious beliefs with humility and devotion. Ultimately, Yom Kippur appears to be about atonement and repentance, and that may be something which we all could practice a little more. And charity. Yes, charity, especially in these days of hurricanes and floods and earthquakes. (Note to my Jewish friends: please correct me if I got any of this wrong.)

In 1973, a few days after Yom Kippur, Israel was fighting a bitter war against Egypt and Syria. Its very survival was at stake. Leonard Cohen had heard of the war and had come to Tel Aviv to see it for himself. Somewhat serendipitously, he ended up joining a tour to entertain the soldiers. His 1974 album, New Skin for the Old Ceremony, was a result of that tour, with songs such as "Who By Fire" having been inspired by that experience. The video linked above features stunning artwork by Matthew Schwartz.

Cohen explains the song in his own words:  "That song derives very directly from a Hebrew prayer that is sung on the evening of the Day of Atonement. 'Who by fire, who by sword, who by water.' According to the tradition, The Book of Life is opened, and in it is inscribed all those who will live and all those who will die for the following year. In that prayer is catalogued all the various ways in which you can quit this veil of tears. The conclusion of the song as I write it is somewhat different, 'Who shall I say is calling?' That is what makes the song into a prayer for me in terms which is who is it or what is it that determines who will live and who will die?"

Interesting (and unanswerable) question. Leonard Cohen, one of the greatest lyricists of our time, died a year ago on November 7. The result of a fall in his home, he died in his sleep. Who by accident.  Who in the night time. Leonard Cohen was 82. Two and a half weeks before his death, he released his 14th studio album, You Want It Darker. In the song by the same name, these lines are compelling:

A million candles burning for the help that never came
You want it darker. We kill the flame.

In the spirit of charity, please consider donating money or supplies to those suffering in Puerto Rico.

G'mar Tov.

The Dream's in the Ditch

Listen while you read:  Deer Tick

Well, the dream's in the ditch
Now the kids are all pissed
But it's not new to hate what they make you do

First they pull all your teeth
Then they'll want you to eat
Well, get over it, kid, you don't want any part of it

But it's not the way you can't afford your time
Or the envy of the friends you've left behind
So whenever you go, they can have everything you lose

Is this it? This is it

So they paid you to scream
But it buried your dreams
So you wait for the pain that will send you to sleep again

Now you walk with your wolves
Like you got nothing to lose
Act like you don't care while you pray for a cross to bear

But it's not the way you can't afford your time
Or the envy of the friends you've left behind
So whenever you go, they can have everything you lose

This is it. Is this it?

~  Ian O'Neill (for Deer Tick)

I had lunch the other day with my friend Allison. She'd just come from the doctor's office where she'd had an engorged deer tick removed from her arm. We had a glass of wine with lunch, her last one before her three-week antibiotic cycle. Needless to say, "deer tick" sparked a song memory for me, so here it is. This song appears on Deer Tick's 2013 effort, Negativity.

Deer Tick is a Rhode Island band. Years ago, front man John McCauly found a deer tick on his scalp after a camping trip somewhere in the forests of Indiana. He thought the name "Deer Tick" sounded cool. The actual deer tick? Not so much. For any of you uneducated about things-to-be-feared in the Northeast, deer ticks carry Lyme disease, a condition that can be terrible for some victims of the tick bite. If anyone should have Lyme disease, it's me. I've pulled many a tick off my body over the years. I've even gone to the emergency room to have one removed from my eyelid. But, god willin' and the creek don't rise, I have yet to come down with Lyme disease. I do know several people who have suffered terribly from the disease. It's a real thing.

As for the song, make sure you listen to it, if for no other reason than to catch that piano solo in the middle. I find it interesting that the song sounds so upbeat, but the lyrics are kind of a downer. Songwriter and guitar player Ian O'Neill had this to say: "After the song was written, I started to realize what I was writing about: both the despair and the resilience you develop as a touring musician and how that can parallel all the basic situations in the song."

The dream's in the ditch. I feel that way often these days. All the gains that were made in terms of the environment, gender equality, healthcare, education, global peace . . . Those gains are being systematically overturned by an administration that is lacking in compassion and common sense. Is this it? No, it's worse. The very idea that the people in charge have conspired with a hostile foreign government in order to gain power is abhorrent. Negativity? Is there anything left to feel positive about?

This is it.

The Boys of Summer

Listen while you read: Not the MTV Video of the Year (1985) one, sorry

Nobody on the road, nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air, the summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty street, the sun goes down alone
I'm driving by your house, though I know you're not home

But I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun
You got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone

I will never forget those nights; I wonder if it was a dream
Remember how you made me crazy? Remember how I made you scream?
Now I don't understand what happened to our love
But babe, I'm gonna get you back, I'm gonna show you what I'm made of

I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun
I see you walking real slow and you're smiling at every one
I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone

Out on the road today, I saw a DEADHEAD sticker on a Cadillac
A little voice inside my head said, "Don't look back, you can never look back"
I thought I knew what love was; what did I know?
Those days are gone forever; I should just let them go, but

I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun
You got that top pulled down and that radio on, baby
And I can tell you my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone

~  Don Henley & Mike Campbell

Can you guess my favorite line in this song? Of course you can! Out on the road today, I saw a DEADHEAD sticker on a Cadillac. Not only does that line say so much more than its thirteen words, it just has such a cool rhythm to it. (Reminds me of Warren Zevon's line, "Little old lady got mutilated late last night," although that line, of course, has the added joy of alliteration.) Who drives a Cadillac and loves the Dead? Seriously. Anyway, this song is on Don Henley's 1985 release Building the Perfect Beast. You know Don Henley as the control freak of The Eagles.

In 1985, the video for this song won the MTV Video Music Award's "Video of the Year," which is hard to imagine compared to videos being produced these days. I did not link that video above because I would have had to log in to something or other to be able to share the video. You can google it and watch it for yourself. Meanwhile, the song alone should be available on my link (although you will have to click the "play" arrow).

But you already know this song, don't you? It has been connected to the Great American Pastime, baseball, for many years. In fact, the title was apparently taken from a book by Roger Kahn, Boys of Summer, about the Brooklyn Dodgers' move to L.A. I have not read that book, but I did read Doris Kearns Goodwin's Wait Till Next Year, about the same thing. I highly recommend it.

When I was a teenager, summers were full of boys. There was a lake community nearby, the summer home to many "city families." Having grown somewhat bored by the same old boys who lived in our small town, we girls were titillated by those city boys with their Brooklyn accents. Several summer romances emerged from the town's block dances and hayrides, in which city boys met country girls. Although it never happened for me, I did have a crush or two on those boys, which made summer in a small town much more exciting. Don't look back, you can never look back.

But, alas, summers end. After a stretch of daytime temps in the upper 80s, today we are scheduled to return to normal weather for late September.  I guess we'll get used to it. After all, the boys of summer have gone. Along with the warmth.

Thank god there's pumpkin ale and cider donuts.

Urge for Going

Listen while you read:  Tom Rush's version

I awoke today and found frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky and gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
Shivering trees are standing in a naked row

I get the urge for going
And I never seem to go
And I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down
And winter's closing in

And I had a girl in summertime with summer-colored skin
And not another man in town my darling's heart could win
But when the leaves fell trembling down
And bully winds did rub their faces in the snow

She got the urge for going
And I had to let her go
And she got the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime was falling down
And winter's closing in

The warriors of winter give a cold, triumphant shout
And all that stays is dying and all that lives is getting out
You see the geese in chevron flight
Laughing and a-racing on before the snow

They got the urge for going
They've got the wings to go
And they get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down
And winter's closing in

I'll ply the fire with kindling, pull the blankets to my chin
And I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime
And have her stay for just another month or so

But she's got the urge for going
And I guess she'll have to go
She gets the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown.
All her empires are falling down
And winter's closing in

And I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
And summertime is falling down

~  Joni Mitchell

Yes, Joni Mitchell wrote this song, but I first heard it on Tom Rush's 1968 album, The Circle Game (also the title of another Joni song). On that album, Tom Rush covered songs not only by Joni Mitchell, but also Jackson Browne and James Taylor. And this was before those artists were household names in their own right. Tom may have switched up Joni's lyrics a little bit, but the song remains a beautiful tribute to autumn.

And this song was an English teacher's dream. I used it primarily to teach personification. Remember that one? It's when you ascribe human characteristics to something nonhuman. The most obvious examples in the song are "summertime" and "the vagrant winter." But look at the frost, the sun, the trees, the winds, and the geese. They, too, have been humanized. (Or "birdized," in the case of the frost.)

And yes, I have the urge for going. A bonafide snowbird, I will be flying (really driving) south in a couple of weeks. These last few days of sunshine and temps in the mid-80s have fooled us into thinking that summer has not left us yet, but that first chilly day is going to smack some reality into our beings. I still have outside work to do, and the clock is ticking. Yes, I have seen the geese in chevron flight, and the meadow grass is indeed turning brown. But we have yet to see the leaves fall trembling down or the shivering trees standing in a naked row, never mind the bully winds. All in due time. The first hard frost in these parts is only a couple of weeks away.

The strange thing about this song's impact on me is that it makes me want to ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets to my chin. Well, I'll be home for Thanksgiving. I can light a fire and snuggle up with a blanket then.

For now, keep the temperature high!

Glass, Concrete, and Stone

Listen while you read: Orchestrally beautiful!

Now, I'm wakin' at the crack of dawn
To send a little money home from here to the moon
It's risin' like a discotheque
And now my bags are down and packed for traveling

Lookin' at happiness, keepin' my flavor fresh
Nobody knows, I guess, how far I'll go, I know
So I'm leavin' at six o'clock, meet in a parking lot
Harriet Hendershot, sunglasses on, she waits by this

Glass and concrete and stone
It's just a house, not a home

Skin that covers me from head to toe
Except a couple tiny holes and openings
Where the city's blowin' in and out
And this is what it's all about, delightfully

Everything's possible when you're an animal
Not inconceivable, how things can change, I know
So I'm puttin' on aftershave, nothing is out of place
Gonna be on my way, try to pretend it's not only

Glass and concrete and stone
And it's just a house, not a home
And it's glass and concrete and stone
It is just a house, not a home
And my head is fifty feet high
Let my body and soul be my guide

~ David Byrne

You know David Byrne from his days with Talking Heads, but I hope some of you know him in his solo career. This song comes from 2004's Grown Backwards, which is a favorite of mine. Byrne is a gifted musician and vocalist. Be sure to watch the live video linked above to enjoy the brilliant orchestral arrangement that backs up Byrne's vocals. It's gorgeous.

Since I've been writing this blog (for 269 days now), songs appear in my head based on pretty much everything I do. It's magical. Last night, I went to see the movie The Glass Castle, based on the memoir by Jeannette Walls, which I finally read just a couple of weeks ago. I most certainly recommend it, both the book and the movie, and preferably in that order.

A memoir, by definition, differs from an autobiography, in that a memoir is one's perception of what happened. Whether the story of Walls' dysfunctional childhood is completely accurate doesn't matter. There is much to take away from her story. And while my friend Korey and I noted that the movie seems a bit "light" compared to the book, there is no denying that both contain that combination of love and dysfunction that, I believe, most families endure to varying degrees.

The "glass castle" refers to a prominent motif in the story, a blueprint for a home made of glass that Rex Walls, the alcoholic father, returns to again and again as he struggles with his demons. It is a dream he shares with young Jeannette, the daughter whom he calls "Mountain Goat." It is obvious early on in the story that the glass castle, with its solar panels and spiral staircase, will never become a reality, and I think that is what led my mind to David Byrne's song. It is just a house, not a home. The real homes in which the family existed were rat-infested, cold, dilapidated wrecks, often with unsanitary conditions and an extreme lack of food. But despite their eccentricities and self-destructive behavior, Rex and Rose Mary Walls gave their children gifts of curiosity, self-dependency, and most importantly, survival. Perhaps what makes the story so compelling is that combination of love and neglect, an anomaly that so often becomes the norm in relationships.

In my career as a teacher of high school people, I would encounter students who came from stable and loving homes, but were rebellious, angry, careless, and destructive. I could not help but sympathize with those parents. But I also encountered students who came from terrible home situations and were good, honest, kind, and hardworking people. It's the old "nature versus nurture" conversation. What can any of us do but let my body and soul be my guide?

Oh, and don't throw stones.

Indian Summer

Listen while you read:  Poco!

There's a full moon in the sky
It's got a hold on me, I'm hypnotized
Like your love, it's getting stronger
Please keep my heart a little longer

Indian Summer is on its way
Cool at night and hot all day
Ain't no black clouds filled with rain
Santa Ana wind blew them all to Maine

Baby takes my hand
She says she understands
About the way I feel
She knows this love is real

I'm a wide open space cowboy
I got lazy ways, I got some hidden joy
Motorcycle and tons of RPM
Ain't gonna wait around till it's here again

~  Paul Cotton (Poco)

Despite today's high of 87 degrees, it is not technically Indian Summer. Nonetheless, this song by Poco appears on the album of the same name released in 1977. Can't go wrong with a little Poco in your day.

Or can you? There are three things wrong with this song as today's choice. Can you find them?

Time's up.

First of all, there is no full moon today. The last one was on September 6, and the next one will be on October 5. Today, we're just five days past the new moon. Oh, well. Full moons always make a song sound better.

Most importantly, there's the Indian Summer thing. According to the Farmers' Almanac, there are some specific requirements that must be in place for us to call a burst of warm autumn weather "Indian Summer." For one thing, it has to occur at some point between November 11 and November 20. We're not there yet. There has to be a large swing in daytime/nighttime temperatures. I think the low last night was around 60 degrees; is that a large swing? The atmosphere must be smoky or hazy. Well, that's not true here in the Northeast. And the warm weather must follow a spell of cold weather or a good hard frost. No frost here yet.

Despite all of this, we will keep referring to these summer-like temps as "Indian Summer." Which begs the question: why is it called Indian Summer? Well, apparently, the early settlers in New England would welcome the cold weather in late October, leaving their stockades unarmed, thinking that attacks by Native Americans were less likely. When it became warm again, however, the Native Americans would have another go at it, thus causing the settlers to refer to the late warm weather as Indian Summer.

If you were counting, you noticed that I have not yet related the third thing wrong with this song choice. Well, despite my love for Poco, the lyrics here just do not live up to my requirements for good lyrics. They're pretty simple, random, wandering, and somewhat awkward, aren't they? Ain't gonna wait around till it's here again might be one of the dumbest lines ever written. Like you can only ride your motorcycle during Indian Summer? What?

But hey, it's 86 degrees on this sunny day and Poco sounds good. Let's call it Indian Summer! Even if it's not.

Transformation

Listen while you read:  New Van Morrison!

Gonna be a transformation in your heart and your soul
Gonna be a transformation, baby, now that you know
Get used to righteousness when it makes you feel whole
Gonna be a transformation, baby, down in your soul

'Member when we were downhearted, didn't have nowhere to go
And the wisdom of insecurity, just knowin' that we know
Then something starts happenin', feel like you're on a roll
Gonna be a transformation, baby, down in your soul

But like a river keeps on wantin' to flow
Keeps on advancing with the wisdom you know
Time has a rhythm when the love is the love
Love is forever, baby, down in your soul
. . . 

~  Van Morrison

This song is so new, I'm not even certain that I have the lyrics right! Roll with the Punches, Morrison's 37th studio album (37th!!) was released just two days ago. "Transformation" is one of five original songs on the 15-track album, which also contains several blues standards.

"From a very early age, I connected with the blues," Morrison stated. "The thing about the blues is you don't dissect it - you just do it. I've never overanalyzed what I do, I just do it. Music has to be about just doing it, and that's the way the blues works - it's an attitude." Okay, so I guess I won't be overanalyzing the lyrics! (Which is fine with me.)

The video linked above is from a live performance at London's Porcester Hall. Although Jeff Beck did not perform at this show, he is featured on the studio version of the song. At 72, Van can still work his magic. I have not seen him perform in many years, but back in the days when he was ornery and drunk, I saw him several times. He could be pretty rough.

A transformation is "a thorough or dramatic change in form or appearance." I think our country could use a transformation to "righteousness" to make us feel whole again. There is so much about our current status which is anything but morally right or justifiable. Then something starts happenin'. Oh, it's happening, all right - just not fast enough. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, listen to some Van Morrison, old stuff or new stuff. It'll soothe your soul.

Sweet Baby James

Listen while you read:  Rockabye

There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range
His horse and his cattle are his only companions
He works in the saddle and sleeps in the canyons
Waiting for summer, his pastures to change
And as the moon rises, he sits by his fire
Thinking about women and glasses of beer
And closing his eyes as the dogies retire
He sings out a song which is soft but it's clear
As if maybe someone could hear

Goodnight, you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James

Now the first of December was covered with snow
So was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
The Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go
There's a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me

So goodnight, you moonlight ladies
Rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose
Won't you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James

~  James Taylor

James Taylor did not write this song about himself . . . or did he? The "sweet baby" in the song is his older brother Alex's son. When 21-year-old James learned that his brother had named his newborn son after him, he wrote the song. It was released on the album of the same name back in 1970. In an interview with Rolling Stone in 2015, Taylor said that this was his best song. "It starts as a lullaby, then the second half of the song - 'the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston' - talks about what music means to me. It gets pretty spiritual by the end." Aha! So he did write the song about himself!

The Berkshires seemed dreamlike on account of that frosting. That has to be one of my favorite lines ever. So evocative. I have driven through the Berkshires, although not in winter, but I have never met a forest I didn't like, whatever the season. I also like the way the song evokes the loneliness of living in the remote outdoors. Reminds me of The Eagles' "Desperado": The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine / It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day. Loneliness.

Last night, I attended the wedding of James and Jessyca. James is the son of JoAnn, my best friend for many years before her death in 2000. My heart was full of joy and sorrow as I observed this event and spoke to people that I knew from the years when JoAnn and I were so close. As joyous as this celebration was, I could not help but mourn the loss of my dear friend, who should have been the beaming mother-of-the-groom at this wedding. I was not the only one feeling this.

When James was born, I gave JoAnn the Sweet Baby James album. I believe she sang this song to little James, who is now a grown man, possibly facing the daunting task of parenthood himself before long. I hope he has a song to sing to his future children, and that JoAnn will be humming along, wherever she may be.

Meet Me on the Equinox

Listen while you read:  New Moon

Meet me on the Equinox
Meet me halfway
When the sun is perched at its highest peak
In the middle of the day

Let me give my love to you
Let me take your hand
And as we walk in the dimming light
Oh, darling, understand

That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything ends

Meet me on your best behavior
Meet me on your worst
For there will be no stone unturned
Or bubble left to burst

Let me lay beside you, darling
Let me be your man
And let our bodies intertwine
But always understand

That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything, everything ends

A window, an opened tomb
The sun crawls across your bedroom
A halo, a waiting room
Your last breaths moving through you

As everything, everything ends . . . 

~  Ben Gibbard (for Death Cab for Cutie)

If you watched the linked video, you saw scenes from The Twilight Saga: New Moon, based on the Twilight books and released in 2009. "Meet Me on the Equinox" was part of the soundtrack for that movie; the single was released at the same time. Ben Gibbard, lead singer and songwriter for Death Cab for Cutie, never read a Twilight book. He says he wrote the song based more on his personal experiences. Nonetheless, it remains attached to that movie (which I have never seen, nor have I read the books).

The word "equinox" comes from "equi" (the Latin prefix for "equal") and "nox" (the Latin word meaning "night"). At 4:02 p.m. today (two minutes after this blogpost goes live!), the sun crosses the equator. So the amount of daylight and darkness on this day are nearly equal. Also, the Sun enters the sign of Libra, which is the sign of balancing scales. So if Light and Darkness can live in harmony, the question is: can we? It seems to be an appropriate question in these political times, doesn't it?

For most of us, astrology aside, today marks the end of summer and the beginning of autumn. Note, however, that the weather forecast for the next few days in the Northeast, where I am, promises a high in the mid-80s, so it is not a good time to put away those summer clothes. Yes, the days are shorter, and I feel that acutely, but as Death Cab reminds us, "Everything ends."

And everything begins. It will soon be time for sweaters and leggings and bonfires and pumpkin everything. The season of autumnal beauty begins! Those of us who grew up in the Northeast (as well as other areas) have been spoiled by a definitive change of seasons. And there is beauty in all of them. So drink that Pumpkin Ale, bake a pumpkin pie, rake those leaves, build that bonfire, take that one last convertible drive, watch that early sunset, and make the most of autumn. It, too, will end.

As everything, everything ends.

One Day

Listen while you read:  Shanah Tovah!

Sometimes I lay under the moon
And thank God I'm breathing
Then I pray, "Don't take me soon
'Cause I am here for a reason"

Sometimes in my tears, I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when my negativity surrounds
I know some day it'll all turn around because . . . 

All my life, I've been waiting for
I've been praying for, for the people to say
That we don't wanna fight no more
There will be no more wars
And our children will play one day

It's not win or lose
'Cause we all lose
When they feed on the souls of the innocent
Blood-drenched pavement
Keep on moving though the waters stay raging

In this maze, you can lose your way
It might drive you crazy, but don't let it faze you, no way

Sometimes in my tears, I drown
But I never let it get me down
So when negativity surrounds
I know some day, it'll all turn around because . . . 

All my life, I've been waiting for
I've been praying for, for the people to say
That we don't wanna fight no more
There will be no more wars
And our children will play one day

One day, this will all change
Treat people the same
Stop with the violence
Down with hate
One day, we'll all be free
And proud to be under the same sun
Singing songs of freedom like one day

All my life, I've been waiting for
I've been praying for, for the people to say
That we don't wanna fight no more
There will be no more wars
And our children will play one day

~  Matisyahu & The Smeezingtons

Today is the first day of Rosh Hashanah. So my song choice today is "One Day" by "Jewish reggae artist" Matisyahu, aka Matthew Paul Miller. (Matisyahu means "Gift of God.") This song appears on his third album, Light, which came out in 2009.

I am not Jewish, so my knowledge of Rosh Hashanah is limited. It is, as I understand it, the Jewish New Year. As for Matisyahu's song, "One Day," it is "an anthem of hope with a big beat, the kind of song that makes you bob your head and open your heart at the same time." Coming from Matisyahu, who was a Phish-head at one time, I suppose he knows a thing or two about head-bobbing. Whether or not head-bobbing is a part of Rosh Hashanah remains to be seen.

I'm not a big fan of Matisyahu, but I am a fan of embracing and understanding other cultures. So I will give a nod to the Jewish reggae artist today and wish Shanah Tovah ("Good Year") to all.

Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season

Listen while you read:  Parrotheads 4ever!

Squalls out on the gulf stream
Big storms coming soon
I passed out in my hammock
God, I slept way past noon
Stood up and tried to focus
I hoped I wouldn't have to look far
I knew I could use a Bloody Mary
So I stumbled next door to the bar

And now I must confess
I could use some rest
I can't run at this pace very long
Yes, it's quite insane
I think it hurts my brain
But it cleans me out and then I can go on

There's something about this Sunday
It's a most peculiar gray
Strolling down the avenue
That's known as A1A
And I was feeling tired, then I got inspired
And I knew that it wouldn't last long
So all alone, I walked back home, sat on my beach
And then I made up this song

And now I must confess
I could use some rest
I can't run at this pace very long
Yes, it's quite insane
I think it hurts my brain
But it cleans me out and then I can go on

Well, the wind is blowin' harder now
Fifty knots or there abouts
There's white caps on the ocean
And I'm watching for water spouts
It's time to close the shutters
It's time to go inside
In a week I'll be in gay Paree
That's a mighty long airplane ride

And now I must confess
I could use some rest
I can't run at this pace very long
Yes, it's quite insane
I think it hurts my brain
But it cleans me out and then I can go on

~  Jimmy Buffett

Hurricanes and earthquakes dominate today's news. And, humans that we are, we try to find explanations for the post-eclipse assault nature has inflicted upon us. Yes, of course, there's climate change. And no, I don't think "God" is punishing us for anything. And yet, that thinking prevails in pockets of society, emboldened by questionable people of faith. In the pre-Irma days, a friend suggested this song to me for the blog, and although I couldn't fit it into my already determined setlist, I was pretty certain there would be another opportunity. And behold, along came Maria. "Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season" appears on Jimmy Buffett's second album, his 1974 release, A1A, named for the "Scenic and Historic Coastal Byway" that travels for 328.9 miles along Florida's east coast all the way to Key West, scene of Irma's devastation.

I think the lyrics to this song are somewhat pedestrian and self-indulgent, but I like the title, and for that reason, it got my attention today. Because, clearly, one cannot reason with hurricane season. And the hurricane season is not over yet. As I am writing this, I am listening to a news program dedicated solely to the hurricane in the Caribbean and the earthquake in Mexico City. So much tragedy hurled at us in the last month! And it begs the question: "What's next?" And will what happens next be a natural disaster . . . or a nuclear event perpetrated by an incompetent and psychologically damaged tyrant? (I'll let you decide to which one of the several leaders who meet this definition I'm referring.) As our eloquent leader so often says, "We'll see. We'll see." The man exudes elocution and confidence.

I am not a Parrothead, but I always enjoy listening to Jimmy Buffett. To me, it's no surprise that he is so popular among so many people. He has a great voice, a good sense of humor, and he sings about tropical paradises, which, for many of us, are dreamlike places that we think of when we are shoveling snow. I have only seen Buffett perform live once, a couple of years ago, and as entertaining as it was, I doubt that I will want to go to another Parrothead convention anytime soon. Those people do know how to party! And I have to tip my hat to grown men who are not embarrassed to wear coconut shell bras and grass mini-skirts in public.

Before yesterday's earthquake in Mexico, I booked a place on the Riviera Maya in the Yucatan for a holiday getaway with my family later this year. It is always a gamble to make vacation plans when weather issues cannot be predicted. If Mother Nature decides that I cannot have the holiday adventure that I've planned, I guess I can always put on some Jimmy Buffett tunes, drink a Bloody Mary, and dream about coconuts and grass skirts.

Our Lady of the Well

Listen while you read:  If you look for me, Maria . . .

It is a dance we do in silence
Far below this morning sun
You in your life, me in mine
We have begun
Here we stand and without speaking
Draw the water from the well
And stare beyond the plains
To where the mountains lie so still

But it's a long way that I have come
Across the sand to find this peace among your people in the sun
Where the families work the land as they have always done
Oh, it's so far the other way my country's gone

Across my home has grown the shadow
Of a cruel and senseless hand
Though in some strong hearts
The love and truth remain
And it has taken me this distance
And a woman's smile to learn
That my heart remains among them
And to them I must return

But it's a long way that I have come
Across the sand to find you here among these people in the sun
Where your children will be born
You'll watch them as they run
Oh, it's so far the other way my life has gone

If you look for me, Maria
You will find me in the shade
Wide awake or in a dream, it's hard to tell
If you come to me, Maria
I will show you what I've made
It's a picture for our lady of the well

~  Jackson Browne

I've had Hurricane Maria on my mind this morning. And with all apologies to Amy, MaryAnn, Beverly, Connie, and all my Broadway show-tune loving friends, I sure as hell was not going to do a post of "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?" This early Jackson Browne song, which appears on his second album, 1973's incredible For Everyman, came into my head because of the line which mentions Maria. And once again, I am compelled by the relevance of Jackson's songs to these days.

Jackson's inspiration for this song came from a group of friends who moved to Mexico to escape being drafted into the Vietnam War. Rolling Stone suggested that, in the lyrics, he places faith in the ritual and restorative powers of water, which is interesting to ponder as we anticipate yet another Category 5 hurricane. Talk about power. And so we look at the dichotomy of . . . well, of everything. Water nourishes and cleanses us, but it can also kill us. Perhaps the same can be said for all elements of nature. Sun and wind can provide warmth and energy, but they, too, can kill.

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. Seven decades later, Orwell's writing serves as commentary on our times. While I was typing the lyrics to "Our Lady of the Well," I was also half listening to the speech being delivered to the United Nations General Assembly by a man who, it turns out, does know how to read. (Fairly certain he did not write the speech, though.) Even in as serious a venue as the U.N. General Assembly, the Bully-in-Chief again referred to Kim Jong Un as "Rocket Man" as he threatened to "totally destroy North Korea."

Across my home has grown the shadow
Of a cruel and senseless hand
Though in some strong hearts
The love and truth remain

Stay focused, strong hearts. Resist.

Rocket Man

Listen while you read:  I Think It's Going to Be a Long, Long Time

She packed my bags last night pre-flight
Zero hour 9:00 a.m.
And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the Earth so much, I miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight

And I think it's gonna be a long, long time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no, no, no, I'm a rocket man
Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone

Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids
In fact, it's cold as hell
And there's no one there to raise them if you did
And all this science I don't understand
It's just my job five days a week
A rocket man, a rocket man

~  Elton John & Bernie Taupin

If you don't know why I selected this song today, then you haven't been paying attention. Then again, if you don't know, good for you! What I'm sure you DO know is that this is an Elton John song from his 1972 album, Honky Chateau.

Did you know that arugula is called "rocket" (or something similar) in most European countries? I believe it is only called arugula in the United States and Australia. Okay, this was just a diversion from having to explain why I chose this song. Obviously "Arugula Man" has nothing to do with it.

Trump woke up Sunday morning and engaged in a raging tweet storm. Fifteen of them, rapid-fire! I don't even want to talk about the retweet of the GIF in which the Bully Puppet swings his golf club and hits Hillary in the back with the ball. So mature. No, the tweet which got the most attention is the one in which he states that he had a phone conversation with South Korea's President Moon in which he asked "how Rocket Man is doing."

I could be wrong, but my guess is that bullying and name-calling of this nature is not going to sit well with Kim Jong Un. He appears to be as insecure as our own Dear Leader and as unpredictable, as well. And he has nuclear weapons. Hey, Melania, how's that anti-bullying campaign going?

You might be surprised by the video linked above. It is the official video for "Rocket Man," chosen in a contest encouraging filmmakers to create videos for Elton John's songs. Iranian filmmaker and refugee Majid Adin created the winning video which departs somewhat from the outer space theme to address the loneliness as well as the hope felt by refugees.

So on one hand, you have the Leader of the Free World, a man of inherited wealth and white privilege, engaging in name-calling and joking about hitting a woman with a golf ball. On the other hand, you have a talented Iranian refugee making art to draw attention to the plight of those seeking refuge from an authoritarian regime. Hmmm . . . .

If one were to parse the lyrics for relevance to this issue, I think there's a better case for the Tweeter-in-Chief to be referred to as "Rocket Man." Consider these lines:

And all this science I don't understand
It's just my job five days a week
A rocket man, a rocket man

How was your golf game this weekend, DJT?

Once I Was

Listen while you read:  . . . and watch, too.

Once I was a soldier
And I fought on foreign sands for you
Once I was a hunter
And I brought home fresh meat for you
Once I was a lover
And I searched behind your eyes for you
And soon there'll be another
To tell you I was just a lie

And sometimes I wonder
Just for a while
Will you ever remember me?

And though you have forgotten
All of our rubbish dreams
I find myself searching
Through the ashes of our ruins
For the days when we smiled
And the hours that ran wild
With the magic of our eyes
And the silence of our words

And sometimes I wonder
Just for a while
Will you ever remember me?

~  Tim Buckley

Back in February, I wrote about how I discovered Tim Buckley . . . nearly fifty years ago. And fifty years ago, our country was embroiled in the Vietnam War Conflict. (The United States never declared war on Vietnam, so technically, it was a conflict. But yeah, it was a war.) And in 1967, "Once I Was" appeared on Buckley's second album, Goodbye & Hello. Fifty years later, this song can still bring me to tears.

Tonight, PBS will premiere Ken Burns' new project, The Vietnam War: A Film by Ken Burns & Lynn Novick. The 18-hour documentary will be shown in ten episodes. I am planning on watching it, or maybe I should say I am hoping to watch it. I don't really handle disturbing films very well. But Vietnam was monumental in my generation's coming-of-age, and so I feel a responsibility to honor the story by reliving that era. And by doing so, honoring the people of my generation who fought in that war, especially my friend Bill, a Vietnam vet who died last month.

Although "Once I Was" could be written off as an emotive song about a broken relationship and the subsequent lingering heartbreak, it has forever been attached to Vietnam for me. In 1988, HBO released a documentary about the war titled Dear America: Letters Home from Vietnam. I have seen it several times, and it always affects me. If you watched the video linked above, you saw the segment for which "Once I Was" provided the soundtrack. And if your eyes were dry after watching it, well, you are stronger than I.

One of the most powerful works of literature to focus on Vietnam is Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried. I have read it several times, most recently, last year. If I can handle it, so can you. Consider reading it during or after you watch the Ken Burns film. And then ask yourself, "Why are we still at war??

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.

My Mind Is For Sale

Listen while you read:  Jack Johnson

Well, I heard the blinker's on
I heard we're changing lanes
I heard he likes to race
I heard that six or seven words he likes to use
Are always in bad taste
And I heard that Monday's just a word we say
Every seven times around
And then we pin the tail on Tuesday
Watch those strings go up and down
And the elephant in the room begins to dance
The cameras zoom into
His mouth begins to move
Those hateful words he uses

I don't care for your paranoid
Us against them walls
I don't care for your careless
Me first gimme gimme appetite at all

And all the real estate in my mind is for sale
It's all been subdivided
Divided into reasons why
My two opposing thoughts at once are fine
The residue from the price tag
On the tip of my tongue
The words don't come, they go
How many likes I gotta get
Before I know the truth
And the truth is
Season three will be a great reason
To forget all about reality's
A slippery slope
Watch the TV scream and shout it

I don't care for your paranoid
Us against them walls
I don't care for your careless
Me first gimme gimme appetite at all

Now I heard the blinker's on
I heard we're changing lanes
I heard we need more space
I heard that six or seven words are in bad taste
It's absurd to believe that we might
Deserve anything
As if it's balanced in the end
And the good guys always win

I don't care for your paranoid
Us against them walls
I don't care for your careless
Me first gimme gimme appetite at all

~  Jack Johnson

All the Light Above It Too is Jack Johnson's first album since 2013. "My Mind Is For Sale" was released as a single back in July, but the entire album came out just a week ago. The video linked above was filmed with Johnson's iPhone, using his kids' blocks to build and break down walls. "It was the cheapest video I ever made. $0." And obviously, the rocks that he uses to build cairns on the beach added nothing to the cost. Watch it. It's cool.

If you picked up on the political theme of the song, you can pick up your prize at the end of this blog. Johnson doesn't hide his distaste for our Dear Leader, and yet the song sounds, in typical Jack Johnson fashion, upbeat and cheerful. If you missed the references to changing lanes, six or seven words he likes to use, pin the tail on Tuesday, strings go up and down, elephant in the room, and us against them walls, you might think the song is just another life-is-good-in-Hawaii Jack Johnson song. It's not.

My two opposing thoughts at once are fine appears to be a direct reference to George Orwell's concept of "doublethink" in 1984.  Johnson would not be the first one to connect the current administration to the dystopian society of Oceania. The Ministry of Truth has become the new normal in our White House. The cameras zoom into / His mouth begins to move / Those hateful words he uses.

You may have noticed that the lines of the song seem to run into one another in a rather clever way. Possibly a jab at someone's inability to complete a sentence? Or a thought? I feel like we've been living in fragments and run-on sentences for too long. Nothing makes any sense anymore. Together, maybe we can knock down those bad taste words, lest we become just another block in the wall.

But that's a song for another day.

Will the Wolf Survive?

Listen while you read:  Los Lobos

Through the chill of winter
Running across a frozen lake
Hunters hard on his trail
All odds are against him
With a family to provide for
But one thing he must keep alive
Will the wolf survive?

Drifting by the roadside
Climbs a strong and aging face
Wants to make some honest pay
Losing to the rainstorm
He's got two strong legs to guide him
Two strong arms keep him alive
Will the wolf survive?

Standing in the pouring rain
All alone in a world that's changed 
Running scared now, forced to hide
In a land where he once stood with pride
But he'll find his way by the morning light

Sounds across the nation
Coming from your hearts and minds
Battered drums and old guitars
Singing songs of passion
It's the truth that they all work for
Something they must keep alive
Will the wolf survive?

Will the wolf survive?

~  David Hidalgo & Louis Perez (Los Lobos)

Today marks the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month, begun in 1968 to "recognize the contributions made and the important presence of Hispanic and Latino Americans to the United States and celebrate their heritage and culture." The month always begins on September 15, the anniversary of independence for Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua. Mexico, Chile, and Belize also celebrate their independence on September 15. This year's theme is "Shaping the Bright Future of America."

Louis Perez, one of the founding members of Los Lobos, had this to say about "Will the Wolf Survive?" in an interview for American Songwriter: "We (Mexican-Americans) saw the importance of preserving our culture and of passing along the traditions of our fathers. So it's all wrapped up into one song. But it's about America . . . I always thought of myself as an American kid. I grew up on Carl Reiner sitcoms. It all becomes kind of intuitive. Stuff bubbles to the top when the time calls for it. All of it is instilled in that one song."  That song appears on Los Lobos' debut major label album, How Will the Wolf Survive? which came out in 1984.

Los Lobos began back in 1973 when Hidalgo and Perez were students at Dixon High School in California. The name, of course, means "the wolves." The inspiration for the song came from the cover of a National Geographic magazine with the topic "How will the wolf survive?" Hidalgo and Perez realized that the survival of the wolf offered a metaphor for a man striving to survive in a world that has outcast him. It is interesting to contemplate now, thirty-plus years after the song was recorded, how that "wolf's" survival seems even more threatened. Take, for instance, the recent controversy over the DACA program. Of the nearly 800,000 "Dreamers" affected by this issue, almost 700,000 are from Mexico and other predominantly Latino countries. But these are American kids who are, indeed, "shaping the bright future of America." With 17% of the American population being of Hispanic and Latino descent, the time for an "us versus them" mentality is long gone. The Hispanic culture, with its music, its food, its literature and art, has been woven into the fabric of American life, and we should embrace it, not deport it.

On March 31, 2012, my friend Jeff and I sat in the front row at Levon Helm's barn in Woodstock, New York, for an intimate performance by Los Lobos. The members of the band, who were great friends of Levon's, gave a rousing performance of "Will the Wolf Survive?" Sadly, less than three weeks later, on April 19, 2012, Levon died. That Midnight Ramble featuring Los Lobos turned out to be Levon's last Ramble. And I was there to shake Levon's hand and to thank him.

Sounds across the nation
Coming from your hearts and minds
Battered drums and old guitars
Singing songs of passion
It's the truth that they all look for
Something they must keep alive

Los Lobos at Levon's barn 3/31/12

Traveling Alone

Listen while you read:  Isbell and Shires live

Mountain's rough this time of year
They close the highway down
They don't warn the town
I've been fighting second gear for fifteen miles or so
Trying to beat the angry snow
I know every town worth passing through
But what good does knowing do with no one to show it to?

I've grown tired of traveling alone
Tired of traveling alone
I've grown tired of traveling alone
Won't you ride with me?
Won't you ride?

I quit talking to myself
And listening to the radio, a long, long time ago
Damn near strangled by my appetite
In Ybor City on a Friday night
Couldn't even stand up right
So high, the street girls wouldn't take my pay
She said come see me on a better day
And she just danced away

I've grown tired of traveling alone
Tired of traveling alone
I've grown tired of traveling alone
Won't you ride with me?
Won't you ride?

Pain in the outside lane
I'm tired of answering to myself
Heart like a rebuilt part
I don't know how much it's got left
How much it's got left

I've grown tired of traveling alone
Tired of traveling alone
I've grown tired of traveling alone
Won't you ride with me?
Won't you ride?

~  Jason Isbell

You may be tired of my Jason Isbell posts, but clearly, I'm not. I don't think I've been this interested in a singer/songwriter since Ryan Adams. (And Isbell has been compared to Ryan Adams!) "Traveling Alone" appears on Isbell's 2013 solo endeavor, Southeastern, but the video linked above is a live duet featuring Isbell's wife, Amanda Shires. Her violin is hauntingly beautiful, and her voice complements his beautifully. Clearly, they have chemistry.

Jason Isbell has struggled in the past with addictions (Damn near strangled by my appetite), but has been sober for several years now. Apparently, Shires was instrumental in creating the intervention that led Isbell to rehab. And certainly, he had extra motivation to get clean; Isbell and Shires married a few days after studio work for Southeastern was completed. Shires is now a featured member of Isbell's back-up band, The 400 Unit. And they are parents to a baby girl, referenced in at least one of Isbell's songs ("White Man's World").

Last night, I flew home from Colorado . . . alone. After spending a week with Sam and Andrea and Luna, plus visits with their friends and Andrea's family, the flight home was a bit lonely, although my Jenna was at the airport at midnight to drive me home. But I had time on the flight to contemplate that aspect of my travels. It may be that I travel as often with friends and family as I do alone, and there are drawbacks and benefits to both kinds of trips. But sometimes, I do grow tired of traveling alone. Navigating airports by myself is not always comfortable, nor is driving to unfamiliar places. It may take some intense conversations with myself to become motivated to pack up the car and go, but I know that if I became complacent about traveling, I might blink my eyes to discover that I am too old or addled to do it anymore, thereby missing out on something that has become so important to me.

And I am not overlooking the obvious. "Traveling Alone" is an extended metaphor for the human condition. While I do think it is possible to enjoy a fulfilling life as a single, unattached person, there is comfort and satisfaction in sharing the ride with someone. For me, right now, I seem to be enjoying the best of both worlds. I am planning a solo road trip to Maine next month, but I will look forward to another trip a few weeks later, on which I hope to be accompanied by my favorite traveling companion.

Won't you ride with me?

September Song

Listen while you read:  Willie Nelson's version

Oh, it's a long, long while from May to December
But the days grow short when you reach September
When the autumn weather turns leaves to flame
One hasn't got time for the waiting game

Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November . . . 
And these few precious days I'll spend with you
The precious days I'll spend with you

~  Kurt Weill & Maxwell Anderson (1938)

Well, today I am as melancholy as this song. But not quite as old . . . nearly 80 years! Despite the many, many artists who have recorded it, I chose Willie Nelson's version from 1978's Stardust album. Most recently, Willie's son Lukas has been performing it, sometimes with his band, Promise of the Real, and sometimes with Neil Young. I couldn't find a video that I liked of Lukas singing it (crowd noises, etc.), but he sounds very much like his dad.

Clearly, the song is metaphor for aging, and given that I am in the September (or maybe October) of my life, I can get pretty choked up listening to it. On a more literal note, however, I will be returning to New Jersey this evening to spend another month or so enjoying autumn's beauty. The weather here in Colorado has still been summerlike; the high today will be near 90 degrees. But the leaves are turning back East, and I will have to begin those chores that must be done at the end of summer: winterizing the gardens, taking in porch furniture, planting garlic, taking out screens and locking windows. While autumn is truly beautiful back home, I still find it hard to say goodbye to summer.

And I find it hard to say goodbye to my kids. Let me rephrase that: I find it hard to say "so long" to my kids. (My grandmother taught me to never say "goodbye." "So long" means you will see each other again.) I will say so long to Sam when he drops me off at the airport later this afternoon, and my eyes are watering just thinking about it. The problem is that I don't know when I will see him again. Maybe Thanksgiving, but doubtful. Maybe Christmas, but where? If I had a target date to focus on, I would handle the separation much better.

I know that once I fall back into my routines, I will adjust to this. But today, my melancholia is real.

Dog Days Are Over

Listen while you read:  Or are they?

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble, she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming, so you better run
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive
. . . 

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

~ Florence (Welch) & The Machine

This song put Florence & The Machine on the U.S. charts back in 2009 with the release of their second effort, Lungs. The linked video is said to be a favorite of Florence's, but I find it kind of creepy and really don't care to ever watch it again. But you have to give the song credit for making you want to get up and run. It would be an understatement to say that it is energizing.

There's really only one reason I chose this song today. This evening, I get to watch Sam and Andrea play softball, so I googled songs about softball / baseball. (I already used Fogerty's "Centerfield" back in March when we went to a Mets' spring training game.) I came upon a link to some softball organization's list of the best walk-up songs, and this song was on the list. I guess because of the energy and the references to running? Well, exhausted by hurricanes and politics and 9/11 remembrances, I was grateful for a song that doesn't really make a whole lot of sense, but is upbeat.

"The dog days of summer" refers to the time when Sirius, the dog star, appears to rise just before the sun. This occurs in late July, which is usually the hottest month of the year. This may explain why the phrase has come to refer to those hot and steamy days of summer. It's probably safe to say that the dog days are over now in mid-September . . . although one never knows.

On a different note, my dog days (my time here spent with Luna, the coolest dog in the Rockies) are almost over, as I fly back east tomorrow. Oh, I will miss her!

And I will miss Sam and Andrea, who have provided me with a wonderful visit full of fun and relaxation. And beer. More of that tonight after the ballgame!

Hey, Sam:  run for your mother!

Jesus Etc.

Listen while you read:  Norah Jones covers Wilco

Jesus, don't cry
You can rely on me, honey
You can combine anything you want
I'll be around
You were right about the stars
Each one is a setting sun

Tall buildings shake
Voices escape singing sad, sad songs
Tuned to chords strung down your cheeks
Bitter melodies, turning your orbit around

Don't cry
You can rely on me, honey
You can come by anytime you want
I'll be around
You were right about the stars
Each one is a burning sun

Tall buildings shake . . .

Voices whine
Skyscrapers are scraping together
Your voice is smoking
Last cigarettes are all you can get
Turning your orbit around

Our love
Our love
Our love is all we have

Our love
Our love is all of God's money
Everyone is a burning sun

~  Jeff Tweety & Jay Bennett

So yes, there's a reason I selected this song today. But if you thought that it was written about 9/11, you would be wrong. Appearing on Wilco's fourth album, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, the song was written and recorded months before September 11, 2001. The album was scheduled for release on that exact date (strange coincidence) under Reprise Records, but Wilco was dropped from the label when Time Warner (Reprise's parent company) merged with AOL. Wilco subsequently offered the entire album on live stream from their website on September 18. After signing with Nonesuch Records in November, the album was released in April 2002. So even though "Jesus Etc." was released post-9/11, the song was written and recorded before that tragedy occurred. Of the coincidences, Jeff Tweedy said, "There were a lot of eerie echoes of 9/11 that I heard on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, maybe because some of the focus on that record was being introspective about America. I understand how people could hear that in it. I'm obviously very, very honored if anybody found any kind of consolation in that record, at that time or now."

Despite my love for Wilco, I chose a Norah Jones cover of the song for this post because I really love her version. I first heard it (with the duo Puss 'n Boots) from a video recorded at the 22nd annual Bridge School Benefit Concert in 2008. The Bridge School concerts, founded by Neil and Pegi Young, supported the Bridge School, which serves students with severe physical impairments and complex communication needs in Mountain View, California. Due to Live Nation taking too much of the money raised, last October saw the last of the concerts.

When we, as a nation, were inconsolable about the tragedy that we watched play out on our TV screens, the music industry tried to help us by offering music to soothe the soul and give us hope. But the suits at Clear Channel decided that it was in our best interest to be spared songs that might be considered insensitive. While the list was not an outright ban, but rather a suggestion of songs not to play, most of the songs would hardly be considered appropriate by any deejay with any sense at all. But also on the list were songs like Cat Stevens' "Peace Train" and John Lennon's "Imagine." I remember well the fallout from music fans against Clear Channel and the control they tried to place on free speech.

(If you think I might be trying to make a statement by putting certain names in bold print in this post, you get an A. And if you know what that statement is, A+.)

Not to ever take anything away from those who suffered from the 9/11 tragedy, I have often thought about our collective grieving over only certain acts of terrorism or mass murder and why there are not designated days to commemorate the lives lost in other tragic events, like those at Sandy Hook or Oklahoma City or the Boston Marathon. If the answer to my pondering is the sheer number of casualties from 9/11, then what about the approximately 1,620 people who die each day from cancer? I have been known to say, "There's no terrorist like cancer." Have we just accepted that cancer deaths are unavoidable and a natural occurrence? (And might we one day think the same about mass murders?) I would love to someday see a "war on cancer" that receives an equally passionate dialog (and funding) as the "war on terror" (an oxymoron if there ever was one).

Our love is all we have. Our love is all of God's money. Everyone is a burning sun. We rise, we burn in one another's lives, but eventually, we set. And in the end, we realize that our love was the most valuable thing we had to give or receive. It's that simple.

Never forget love.

Sunset on Islamorada 3/2016

Where to Now, St. Peter?

Listen while you read:  I took myself a blue canoe . . .

I took myself a blue canoe
And floated like a leaf
Dazzling, dancing, half enchanted
In my Merlin sleep

Crazy was the feeling
Restless were my eyes
Insane, they took the paddles
My arms, they paralyzed

So where to now, St. Peter
If it's true I'm in your hands
I may not be a Christian
But I've done all one man can
I understand I'm on the road
Where all that was is gone
So where to now, St. Peter?
Show me which road I'm on
Which road I'm on

It took a sweet young foreign gun
This lazy life is short
Something for nothing always ending
With a bad report

Dirty was the daybreak
Sudden was the change
In such a silent place as this
Beyond the rifle range

So where to now, St. Peter . . . 

I took myself a blue canoe

~  Bernie Taupin & Elton John

I'm still in Colorado with my son and Andrea and Luna, the coolest dog in the Rockies. Upon waking this morning, I asked Sam what the plan was. He said that we would probably go canoeing. Okay. Getting dressed, I glanced up at the wall to notice a framed record album cover, something I'd given Sam when he was still a kid living at home. The album cover was Elton John's Tumbleweed Connection. I'd had two things in mind when I selected that cover to put in the frame all those years ago. For one thing, it was Sam's dad's favorite album. And because Pete had played it so many times, scratching it beyond repair, he'd had to buy a second copy. So I had an extra cover. And then a line floated into my head: I took myself a blue canoe . . .  So I made the connection, and it's only 9:00 a.m. Tumbleweed Connection was released in 1970, the third of Elton John's thirty studio albums.

From what I can gather, Bernie Taupin had a fascination with the American Civil War, something shared by many people, historians or not. We visited a number of Civil War historic sites back in the day, none of which was as compelling as Gettysburg. If you can leave that place without being moved by the horror of war or humbled by the sacrifices made in that war, you are missing some part of that which makes us human. So Taupin wrote a song about the death of a Confederate soldier (or so my research says) and does so in a haunting and powerful way. Suddenly, the war isn't about the Union and the Confederacy, but rather, about the death of one man.

And putting aside the backdrop of war, that is why I chose this song as part of the soundtrack for Pete's memorial service nearly fifteen years ago. In the face of my sorrow, the lyrics offered some comfort, describing death as something dreamlike and hazy and soft.

Which might also describe a canoe trip. I can recall several dreamy canoe trips on the Delaware with Pete when we were young and healthy and looking toward our future. And now here I am, ready to spend some time on Carter Lake in a canoe with Pete's son, who is now the same age that his dad was when I started dating him. And I am looking toward Sam's and Andrea's future, hoping that it stretches far beyond the future I had with Pete.

Connections.

I took myself a blue canoe.

Like a Hurricane

Listen while you read:  Live Rust 1972

Once I thought I saw you in a crowded hazy bar
Dancing on the light from star to star
Far across the moonbeam, I know that's who you are
I saw your brown eyes turning once to fire

You are like a hurricane, there's calm in your eye
And I'm getting blown away to somewhere safer where the feeling stays
I want to love you, but I get so blown away

I am just a dreamer, but you are just a dream
You could have been anyone to me
Before that moment you touched my lips
That perfect feeling when time just slips away
Between us on our foggy trip

You are like a hurricane . . . 

~ Neil Young

Well, that was predictable, wasn't it? But despite the onset of Hurricane Irma, "Like a Hurricane" is my favorite Neil Young song. Although he wrote it in 1975 (pretty much in a drunken, stoned stupor with laryngitis, no less), it did not really reach the public until 1977's American Stars & Bars. It had been released as a single before then, but didn't take off until the album came out. Since then, it has become one of Young's most often performed songs. The video linked above is from a performance during the "Live Rust" tour. Sure, there are some on-stage theatrics, but the recording is pretty good.

I've lost count of the number of times I've seen Neil Young in concert, most recently one year ago this month with Promise of the Real, but there was one concert that stands out most for me. I was in the third row at the Beacon Theatre in NYC. I can't recall the exact date, but if I connect it to my own personal life events, I would guess that it was somewhere between 1979 and 1981. And I think it was Neil Young solo with a back-up band that wasn't Crazy Horse. (I could be wrong about this.) Anyway, what I remember is that Neil did "Like a Hurricane" with an industrial-sized fan blowing on him, and that simple effect was amazing. I felt like I was in the storm. Maybe I was buzzed and maybe I wasn't, but that didn't matter. "Like a Hurricane" has always had the power to send me to some other place.

Dave Marsh, who in my opinion is the god of rock critics, referred to the song as an eight-minute tour-de-force of electric guitar feedback and extended metaphor. "Smokey Robinson meets Jimi Hendrix on Bob Dylan's old block," said Marsh. Sounds right to me. Young has referenced Del Shannon's "Runaway" as an influence, saying that the the chords in the bridge ("You are like a hurricane . . . ") are the same chords as those in the "Runaway" line, "I'm a-walkin' in the rain." Hmm . . . I can hear it. And talk about extended metaphor, there's rain in both songs.

And there's rain in Florida. While it looks like my county is out of the cone at this point, that does not mean that there won't be damage. I am looking for distraction from worry anywhere I can find it.

And on cue, my son just suggested we go get a beer. Wait up, Sam!

Anxiety

Listen while you read:  Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

Anxiety
How do you always get the best of me?
I'm out here living in a fantasy
I can't enjoy a goddamn thing

Anxiety
Why am I never where I'm supposed to be?
Even with my lover sleeping close to me
I'm wide awake and I'm in pain

Watching the sunrise slash through the blinds
Dust in the room hovers over mine
Lying here in silence
Wife and child still sleeping deep enough to dream
And oh, I'm a lucky man today
But so afraid that time will take it all from me

Anxiety . . . 

It's the weight of the world but it's nothing at all
Light as a prayer, and then I feel myself fall
You got to give me a minute because I'm way down in it
And I can't breathe so I can't speak
I want to be strong and steady, always ready
Now I feel so small, I feel so weak

Anxiety . . . 

A crowded room is a burning battlefield
If I don't move, I'll come undone
My heart beats harder, a hammer striking steel
Will I walk now or be a "wait and run"?

Anxiety . . . 

~  Jason Isbell and Amanda Shires

"I just worry too much," Jason Isbell said about this song. It's interesting that my son said the same thing to me yesterday and further stated that he inherited that character trait from me. I immediately blamed my grandmother for my propensity to worry. "Anxiety" appears on That Nashville Sound, released a few months ago. And Jason Isbell and his wife Amanda Shires and the rest of The 400 Unit appeared last night at Red Rocks Amphitheatre overlooking Denver, Colorado.  And I was there, absolutely anxiety-free, at least for one night.

I am sometimes disappointed when a band sounds the same live as they do on their studio recordings. (The Eagles are a good example of that. Unless crazy Joe Walsh is front and center, there's no spontaneity. You might just as well avoid the traffic, stay home, and put on a CD.) Now, Jason Isbell sounds as good live as he does on his recordings, but somehow, I don't find that tedious. He's just that damn good, and the music is so powerful, you become entranced with the performance. It can't be matched by a CD in your living room.

And that's how last night's performance went. Amanda Shires' violin was pivotal to the power of the music, and the rest of The 400 Unit backed Isbell up flawlessly. It was an amazing show, and I was so grateful to be with Sam and Andrea on a beautiful Colorado night with an almost-full moon rising over us. The beer was damn good, too.

So of all of Isbell's setlist last night, why did I pick a song called "Anxiety," for goodness sake? Well, because anxiety seems to be what many of us have been feeling lately. We've become weary of the post-election anxiety, exacerbated by "that Rusher thing" and the ongoing escalating tension with North Korea. And now, we have Mother Nature adding to our stress. The Houston flooding wasn't bad enough, we now have this monster Irma threatening to annihilate the entire state of Florida and then some. I saw a headline this morning about an earthquake in Mexico and a possible resulting tsunami, just as I was adjusting to coming down from last night's concert. Enough already!

Yes, I have a condo in Florida. No, I am not there. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about what may or may not happen to it.

"So much of anxiety, or any of those off-shoots of fear, they deal in confusion," says Isbell. Once you clear up the confusion regarding whatever it is you are worrying about, you can see a pathway clear to dealing with the source of the anxiety. I know that right now, part of our anxiety about Irma is not knowing exactly where and how it is going to hit. We're confused and anxious because of our fear of the unknown. We may end up longing for these times of confusion once the reality of the event is known.

For now, aside from checking my newsfeed and The Weather Channel every ten minutes, I think I will choose to dwell on a particularly enjoyable evening of great music, fantastic scenery, good beer, and people I love. Thanks, Jason Isbell & The 400 Unit for the break from anxiety.