One Thing
This video moved me in so many ways and I am proud to share it here on my blog. It was suggested by SKennedy of the Alzheimer’s Foundation. I hope and pray that people watch the video, send this [...]
When tomorrow comes
I read a post on Facebook from a ‘friend’ tonight. I have no idea if he wrote it or found it on the interwebz. That said, it moved me to tears reminding me of my Mom and Dad’s struggle [...]
Hope for Helpers
Back in September I got an email from Sandra Byrd regarding a short book written by her husband, Chaplain Michael Byrd called, “Hope for Helpers”, a book for caregivers of Alzheimer victims. Sandra had obviously read my blog and knew [...]
Dear Mom and Dad . . .
Dear Mom and Dad, For every memory lost, every heart broken wide open, every tear shed, every life forever changed, every second chance missed, there was always that white light of hope, a sotto-voce prayer whispered by the many [...]
Lost Soul
Over the years, I have felt a connection with several Bruce Hornsby songs. Fields of Grey, [don't watch the video but listen to the song!] reminds me of my daughter Sarah and my intense feelings of fatherly protection and safety [...]
March 16th, 2013 
Angels, corned beef and cabbage, Family, Food, Irish, Life, Love, Mom, Saint Patrick's Day, shamrocks 
No Comments » Shamrocks
It is on this day that I think about my Mom and Dad.
Saint Patrick’s Day would find my mother in the kitchen cooking her corned beef and cabbage.
And God help you if you didn’t stop by for a plate and a pint.
I miss them both dearly on this day but know in my heart they are here with me as I serve my own
a dish they both dearly loved.
Danny Boy is for me Mum.
Miss you, Ginny.
Blessed be Ireland and all those from County Cork. [my roots]
~m
Limbo Bingo
A truth greater than words.
Don’t know if I’m up to the task.
I’ve tried before and failed miserably.
Self doubt is a writer’s worst block.
Some stories are just hard to write.
Maybe I just need to admit that to myself,
and write anyway because I am ultimately trapped inside my own weird thoughts and words.
And maybe that’s a good thing.
Or not.
Asylum? I am here . . .
My chocolate heart
The first time ever I saw your face, I was in the middle of singing a song at Finian’s Rainbow Room when you came walking in.
My heart skipped a beat and that was even before I saw you face to face.
I remember not even acknowledging you that night because you were quite simply out of my league.
What does a beautiful woman like this want anything to do with me?
I remember trading quick glances and smiles with you but still felt that it was just a casual thing.
I remember the way you dressed, smart but casual with attention to detail.
You were quite simply, awesome.
I sat with Billy and made small talk but stole a look at you every single chance that I got.
I couldn’t get enough of you that night.
I went back up to play another set and basically sang every song for you.
I don’t know if you knew that, but I did.
I was singing for you.
Only you.
You would come in every Friday night with all the folks from SO and my heart would jump when I saw you.
But one Friday night, no one came in, I felt like someone let the wind out of my sails because my inspiration was missing.
Sometime during my last set, I was going through the motions when I saw you walk in.
Alone.
My world changed in that one moment.
And I’m pretty sure I cut the set short.
I knew then that you were my love, my one and only love.
These days, I see your beauty in so many things,
from the autumnal colours of the mountains of North Conway to the absolute and granite-solid love for our three beautiful girls.
The first time ever I saw your face, I fell in love with you.
And I am still in love.
Your amazing green eyes deserve post of their own.
Happy Valentine’s Day to the one I could never live without.
You still melt my chocolate heart.
See you at Zorba’s . . .
~m
February 7th, 2013 Birthdays, Family, fathers and daughters, Life, Love, Music, Personal No Comments » My Jenna
When Jenna was born the year was 1990.
A turbulent time for musicians.
I used to play this song at the time in a band called ‘Cats’ with Paul Lirange [Fate / American Standard]
We were an electronic duo consisting of drum machines and sequencers.
Whenever I hear this song, it reminds me of that time in my life.
It’s a pretty sweet message for a daughter.
Jenna is the funkiest/craziest of my daughters with her ‘outside of the box’ thinking and her amazing creativity and intelligence.
She is her father in many ways.
Just smarter.
And female.
And with no facial hair.
Happy birthday to a most amazing daughter that makes me proud, makes me smile, makes me laugh and
makes me hide under the table when she burps louder than I do.
“And I know you could surely survive without me, but if I have to live without you
tell me, what kind of man would I be?”
I never want to find out
Happy birthday, Jenna Maureen . . .
~Dad
February 5th, 2013 Babies, Family, fathers and daughters, Life, Love, Music, Personal, women No Comments » Fields of Music
Music has played a major part in my life.
No surprise for those of you that know me.
It introduced me to the love of my life, gained me acceptance in High School, been there for me
when I was down and when I was up, brought me closer to God and has never let me down.
Ever.
I associate many songs with different times in my life; Crazy Love by Poco for my DownEast years,
I Go Crazy by Paul Davis during my insane solo piano ‘Pamela’ years,
King of Wishful Thinking, for my years with ‘Cat’s’ and
‘Won’t you come in‘ from my Martin-Murphy ‘original’ band days.
I could go on and explain every single band and song but some of you have to work tomorrow.
You know who you are. [grin]
The song in the video above somehow became a favorite of mine and whenever I would hear it on my
Ipod I would text my daughter Sarah to make sure she was okay.
It was a Dad thing but it somehow became ‘our’ song.
I love the words, the music and the sentiment behind it.
It’s a comfortable song for me and Sas.
It has meaning and is filled with love and light although it does reference the colour grey.
If only I could get Bruce Hornsby to the wedding to play it.
In a perfect world, right?
Daddy’s Little Girl is sweet but it doesn’t hold a candle to this amazing song.
Sarah, my beautiful daughter, this is our song and we will dance.
Even though I’ll look goofy as hell.
I’m a musician.
We can’t dance!
“No matter what else happens
What the future will be
In a world so uncertain
Through the clouds it’s hard to see
I will grab you and carry you
Calm your fears if you’re afraid
We’ll go walking
Across the fields of gray.”
Candlelight
I put up a candle when there’s some serious stuff going on in my life,
like tonight.
I’m fine personally but there are those close to me that are not.
If you happen to pass by my blog,
please light a candle and say a small prayer.
Life is strange sometimes and I don’t quite know what to make of it.
I thank you in advance for the prayers and light,
friends and perfect strangers.
~m
How Facebook makes me feel
Not anymore . . .
Done for now.
~m
Charbroil Rocks
Many people know the magical story of my winning of a beautiful CharBroil grill back in September of last year.
I never win anything but somehow I won this amazing grill.
This isn’t a story about the winning but one of the grill itself.
And yeah, it’s awesome.
I have named him ‘Ted‘.
This Tru-Infrared grill has changed my thoughts and feelings about gas grills in general.
It used to be that gas grills produced dry burgers and drier pieces of burnt chicken but that has all changed.
I remember ‘working the dancefloor’ with so many grills over the years because of hot and cold spots.
The ‘dance’ would add another 20 minutes to my cooking times because every single piece of chicken or beef cooked differently.
The grill I currently own called ‘Ted’ has changed my mind about gas grills.
I cook breakfast on the sideburner (not stinking the house up with bacon grease) and rotisserie pork shoulders for supper.
There’s no more ‘working the dancefloor’ with this grill.
All surfaces are equal.
Cooking times are less, burgers and chicken are always juicier with some serious char marks.
This grill gets quite hot, folks.
My oldest daughter, Sarah and future SIL, Jonathan, bought me a Charbroil rotisserie for Christmas.
I made a pork shoulder last week that was simply amazing.
It was like crunchy bacon on the outside, tender and moist on the inside.
The thing is, I did nothing.
I watched in amazement as this huge churning chunk of meat came to fruition.
Charbroil has changed the life of my family for the better.
When Dad is cooking something on the grill these days, it IS special.
My thanks go out to all the wonderful folks from Charbroil especially, Michael Williams of the Charbroil Social Media department.
Michael has been a wonderful representative of a company that I will forever endorse.
We have traded many emails [how many, Michael?] and I would feel comfortable having him to my house for a nice meal someday.
Think about it, MW.
For all your grilling needs?
Look no further than Charbroil . . . .
Awesome company, awesome products, the best in support.
Charbroil rocks.
End of story.
Maureen
As I get older it’s on my birthday that I scan back through my life and think about the people that have
made a difference in my life.
There are many people I could add to my list but I would inevitably leave someone out and would have to pay
the consequence.
I’m pretty sure the folks on my list know who they are.
But there is one person that makes this day truly special; my twin sister, Maureen.
Through thick and thin we have weathered some serious storms.
Both Mom and Dad died from Alzheimer’s.
We traveled through Hell together, holding hands all the way and lived to tell the tale.
And believe me we have a tale to tell.
Maureen, on our birthday, I wish for you health, happiness, the inner solace and warmth of a long run, happiness and all the love your heart can hold. We are blood.
Through thick or thin we will remain . . . heart to heart.
Happy Birthday, my twin.
I love you.
~Mick
Black Cows
I was on the train home tonight when I reached in my manpurse and found my long lost Ipod.
I’d put it in my bag weeks ago but forgot I actually had it.
Settling in I set it on Shuffle and sat back for the magnificent ride out of Boston.
Steve Lukather, Steve Khan, Marc Jordan, Marcin Marsilweski and many other musicians found their way to my earbuds.
It was around or near Ashland that ‘Black Cow’ came on, a Steely Dan version from the band that I used to play in.
I listened and smiled.
It was good.
Even my ‘Fender Rhodes’ solo was okay.
I thought about that time in my life when it had a rhythm and a purpose but somehow I lost it.
Or it lost me.
The nights of packing down gear at 1:30am after a gig no longer made sense to me.
The $50 paycheck at the end of the night was a slap in the face for all the time I’d spent learning tunes, harmonies and all.
30% of the folks that followed us got it, most didn’t.
Most understood that we spent a considerable amount of time doing what we did, the reason the 10 of them came out every night.
Hack musicians need not apply.
I was happy and musically fulfilled until the day my heart and soul just couldn’t do it anymore.
I like to think that the musicians that truly know me understand.
It makes me sad that some could never understand me.
I still play piano from time to time and still write a song or two but my gigging days are over, barring some unforeseen miracle.
I will forever have a problem with one bridge that burned for no particular reason.
We musicians are a funny lot.
These days find me writing words without music but somehow rhythm stil finds its way into my words.
Or so I think.
There was a time when my musical chops were finely tuned.
These days they are a bit dull and dusty.
But thank God they’re still there.
I’m just following my instincts these days.
And my gigging days are done.
If it’s right for me, it’s write.
And get outta here . . . {rhodes solo}
ps. anyone want an MP3 of Black Cow delivered to your inbox, email me.