Tomorrow morning I’m going to pick up a gift; a wonderful gift.
A while back I wrote something called “the Frozen Man” and I had no idea it would evoke the kind of response that it did.
I received numerous emails regarding its origin and inspiration and to be honest, it took me by surprise.
I’m not used to that kind of attention.
One email was from my dear friend Yvonne.
She is an incredibly creative spirit and does some incredible calligraphy and she asked if she could create a piece of art using “the Frozen Man” as the centerpiece.
I was thrilled and gave her my blessing knowing my words were in very capable hands.
When I checked my Gmail this morning I opened an email from her saying the piece was done. How cool is that?
To say I’m moved is a severe understatement.
Seeing an artistic impression of my work in this light has touched my very soul.
I called Yvonne after seeing it and told her I thought it was beautiful.
Being the humble soul that she is, she thanked me and said I was far too kind and that I was making much more out of it than I needed to.
I had to disagree. In a major way.
Check out the actual piece below.
If only my father could appreciate it.
Yvonne, a sincere thank you from my heart to yours . . .

~m

*ps – Yvonne does calligraphy professionally.
I already know of one other piece of writing that I’d love to see done.
Maybe you have something as well.
Visit www.yvonneelizabeth.com for more info
or email handlettering@yahoo.com

Dan Fogelberg ~ (1951 – 2007)

In my early years of playing music, Fogelberg was a definite musical influence on me.
I saw him perform in 1976 at the Orpheum in Boston (the first night I ever smoked a joint, now you have some serious dirt on me).
I wooed my wife way back when performing many of his tunes.
Whether you liked the guy or not, he was a peaceful man and a very talented songwriter.
I saw this news clip on Yahoo this afternoon.
God, I have another reason to hate Mondays.
I am very sad tonight.
I’ll stop there.
Should you ever get a chance, listen to “Souvenirs”.
Click on the photo above for Fogelberg’s website.

And here is a sunrise
To set on your sill.
The ghosts of the dawn
Moving near.
They pass through your sorrow
And leave you quite still…
Sitting among souvenirs . . . 

Sleep in heavenly peace, Dan . . .

~m

“Stumble aimlessly amid the trolls and waste, but remember what peace there be in staring at your toes for a couple of weeks. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all readers. Publish your posts quietly and clearly, and listen to podcasts, even the dull and garbled, for they too have a right to hog bandwidth. Avoid loud and aggressive bloggers. They are pains in the ass . . . “

This is without a doubt one of the best posts I’ve read lately.
I found it through Rain.
(And if you haven’t visited her yet, shame on you.)
Now click on the “Desiderata” above and prepare to be thoroughly entertained.
This is brilliant.
And yes, I wish I’d written it.
No comments are neccesary here.
Save them for Ian.

~m

I’m amazed on a daily basis as to what I can find on the net. From obscure colognes like Salvador Dali to disgusting products such as the turdtwister, the speed at which the internet puts these things at our fingertips is downright scary.

I was looking for neither of the above products but I was looking for a song from a long time ago. I remember the video as well as the song but I couldn’t for the life of me remember the name of the artist(s) that performed it.

Where’s a guy to go?
I Googled the first line of the song:
“you don’t know how to ease my pain, you don’t know . . . “

Man, Google delivered faster than a Josh Beckett fastball.

The name of the song was “Cry” from a band that went by the name of Godley and Crème. Godley and Crème?
You may know these guys better as 10CC (I’m not in love)
Interesting track record for these two guys. Chances are you’ve seen videos they’ve produced.

I’ve posted the video below because I wanted to watch it again and share it with those of you who may remember it.
I know of at least two bloggers that will watch and listen to this and say, “He’s lost it. I think he’s gay.”
Though I’m a blatant heterosexual, I’m posting it anyway. :0)
Very cool tune and a great video.
Check it out.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1Z8pSXCNFI]

~m

I’m ripping this video off from Raincoaster
who ripped it of from MasterCowfish . . .
And how can you not love a name like MasterCowfish?
Long video but funny as all hell. Hopefully you have DSL.
Raincoaster and I need to do Mojito’s very soon . . .
~m

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJYxCSXjhLI]

Spent most of the day sleeping. Sick. Yuk.
Haven’t replied to one comment due to a total lack of energy.
Click on the picture above and check out the artwork of Fabian Perez. Nice stuff.
The next few days will keep me far away from the blog so take care of the place until I’m back sometime over the weekend.
Hopefully, I’ll be feeling a bit less shitty than I do right now.
Over and out, folks . . .

~m

Sunday morning + Blues legend Calhoun Tubbs = Awesome

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=QfzDUpB88x4]

~m

Had to share this.
It’s from my good friend Yvonne . . .
Wish I could take credit for it

~m

The yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape when I found it in 1963, home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags
of clothes Mom intended to give away.

“You’re not taking that old thing, are you?” Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt.
“I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!”

“It’s just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom. Thanks!”

I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object.
The yellow shirt be came a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it.
After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment
and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.

The next year, I married.
When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days.
I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois.
But that shirt helped.
I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier.

That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom.
When Mom wrote to thank me for her “real” gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again.

The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and Dad’s to pick up some
furniture.
Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!

And so the pattern was set.

On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad’s mattress. I don’t know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.

In 1975 my husband and I divorced.
With my three children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort.
In Ephesians, I read, “So use every piece of God’s armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing up.”

I tried to picture myself wearing God’s armor, but all I saw was the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me.
Wasn’t my mother’s love a piece of God’s armor?
My courage was renewed.

Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to my mother the next time I visited her.
I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer.

Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green a cross the breast pocket were the words
“I BELONG TO PAT.”
Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters.
Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, “I BELONG TO PAT’S MOTHER.”
But I didn’t stop there.
I zigzagged all the frayed seams and then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA.
We enclosed an official looking letter from “The Institute for the
Destitute,” announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds.
I would have given anything to see Mom’s face when she opened the box.
But, of course, she never mentioned it.!

Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend’s garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head.
It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. Inside a pocket was a note: “Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother.”

That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found the verses:
“I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn’t fragile like the peace the world gives. So don’t be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I am. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they do, you will believe in me.”

The shirt was Mother’s final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig’s disease. Mother died the following year at age 57.

I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave. But I’m glad I didn’t, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years.
Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art.
And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets . . .

I put my Nano on “shuffle” tonight and wrote a little bit about the 5 tunes that randomly came up. Check it out.

*Michel Camilo – Just Kidding (from the album, One More Once)
What can I say? I have a new favorite piano player.
This tune has intense tight, screaming horns and is not for the jazz squeamish.
Camilo’s piano solo is the quintessential jazz solo. Amazing.
The man plays right-handed octaves faster than a frickin’ machine gun.
One of you guys better be listening to this guy after all I’ve said and posted about him.
Truth be told, I want someone to pinch me and tell me I’m not dreaming.

*Los Lobos – Colossal Head (from the album Colossal Head)
I’ve listened to these guys forever.
Raw, unpretentious and innovative, LL wrote the proverbial manual on how an electric guitar should sound in the studio.
If you’ve ever witnessed two musicians arguing over the difference between tube amplifiers vs. solid state you’ll eventual hear this: Solid State sucks!
The guitar sounds on Colossal Head totally support this statement.

*Fourplay – Kid Zero (from the album X)
Bob James (keys), Larry Carlton (guitar), Nathan East (bass) and Harvey Mason (drums), need I say anymore?
Alright, I guess I should.
You’ve heard all of these guys play more than you could ever imagine.
Believe me.
Kid Zero is a very cool song for all you smooth jazzers out there.
The hidden gem on the album is Michael McDonald’s vocal on “My Love is Leavin’”, an old Stevie Winwood tune off the album Chronicles. Schweet.

*The Tubes – I don’t want to wait anymore (from the album The Best of the Tubes 1981-1987)
I’ve loved this song forever.
Hardcore Tubes fans hated it because of the way it sounded.
It was produced by a musician named David Foster, another serious keyboard idol of mine from way back. (again, you’ve heard this guy before, you just don’t know it)
My playing resembles his in many ways. Ask my wife.
This tune sounded nothing like the old Tubes. It was a few years later that they hit the pop charts with “She’s a beauty”, another Foster produced mega-hit.

*Gonzalo Rubalcaba – Here’s that rainy day (from the album Solo)
Not exactly sure what to say regarding this one but if you like jazz piano and have yet to hear Rubalcaba, you ain’t lived.
Period.
They guy is a frickin’ piano machine.

I had fun with this.
I’ve also posted an Amazon link for every album.
Click and scroll down the page for a quick listen to each tune.
There’s some real nice stuff here.
If there are a few tunes you think I might like, leave a few titles.
I’m always looking for new stuff to keep the musical boat afloat and make the train ride just a bit shorter.

~m