At last night’s living room concert I gave everyone slips of paper and had them contribute song ideas: people, places, things, moods. The suggestions were
a cowboy who doesn’t like horses or cows
It pretty much wrote itself. I performed it 15 minutes after I pulled the ideas from the hat.
what do you do when you’re in the wrong place
in the wrong place in the wrong time?
thinking like that can ruin your breakfast
looking for reason and rhyme
roping and riding and drivin’ ’em in
is driving me out of my mind
so I’m moving on
next week I’ll be gone
the week after that I’ll fine
my sister just doesn’t get it
she doesn’t have to, she knows I’m okay
her Harley will get me to LAX
I’m flying south today
I’m off on a plane to the tropics
heading south as fast as I can
get away from those horses and smelly old cows
in Costa Rica I could work on my tan
no more bacon and eggs in the morning
Aunt Jemima’s got nothing on me
that medieval torture of saddle tramp days
is washing away in the sea
Part of the chorus got stuck in my head, and then the song wrote itself but it wrote about something a little different from what I had in mind.
Continue reading “One Last Sad Song”
As much as I miss the greens and whites of northern Wisconsin, I’ve long been in love with the purple orange sunsets of the Arizona desert.
This song owes much to The Sons of the Pioneers, especially by way of Michael Nesmith’s album
Tropical Campfires and the songs Moon Over the Rio Grande and Twilight on the Trail.
Continue reading “Purple Sky”
Driving is one of my therapies. Though Best Beloved knows that every time I do run away, she’s coming along because that’s how it works.
We run away together a lot.
Needs a full band treatment to shine.
Continue reading “Run Away”
Sheriff Ed Tom Bell in “No Country for Old Men” spends a lot of time talking about what’s wrong with the world, and making a lot of sense.
Please note: I’m apolitical. I see a lot wrong with the whole world, not just one country, and the ‘country’ McCarthy referred to in Bell’s monologues was the region he lived in, not a geopolitical entity. I’d hate for anyone to think I had a bone to pick with any particular person, place or thing. But if you read Cormac McCarthy, stuff like this is bound to leak back out eventually.
I intentionally sang it in too low a key to get the sound I wanted.
Continue reading “The Ballad of Ed Tom Bell”
Another 6-minute wonder (that is, about 6 minutes to write.) I spent 5 of them searching in vain for one more word that rhymes with dreams, then rearranged it so I didn’t have to.
When the subject is my Best Beloved, it just isn’t that hard. I’ll never know if they’re any good because I don’t care as long as they make her smile.
Continue reading “My Favorite Dreams”
People spend a lot of time fussing and fuming about things they can’t change. Like I used to.
I am apolitical, so this isn’t about what’s in the news, it’s about what’s in my head.
Continue reading “All These Walls”