Nesting Dolls:
I wrote this song thinking about being in a situation where you see someone's life kind of falling apart in front of you. You work with them, and likely they've never thought much about you. Just a friendly face. Small talk. TGIF. And on like that.
Set your expecations
Low enough and I
Just might be able to jump over them
Your pain will fade
As the days go by
You might find yourself getting over him
One Saturday morning, when the song was still green and hadn't solidified fully, I played it for my wife. She cried. And that's when I knew I had something.
I'm no prize
But I just might surprise you
I like spending time
Sitting here close beside you
You might have other plans
That's fine if you do...
I wanted to connect the feeling of opening a set of nesting dolls to the succession of faces we see in our journey though life. Some are passing through, some endure.
Like nesting dolls, life hides
Layers of different faces
Imagine my delight the first time I saw you
I feel closer to the center
Whenever we're together
I could be wrong but I hope you feel it too
I used the A to C#m change at the beginning of the verse, which I associate "Help," a song by a British band from the sixties called the Beatles.
I'm no prize
But I just might surprise you
I like spending time
Sitting here close beside you
You might have other plans
That's fine if you do...
Those last two lines of the chorus are acting. I've never actually been able to manage that feeling.
I made a 4-track recording and put it on my first CD, along with about 10 other songs. I asked my friend Kim at work if she was interested. She said yes. She came back to me later that day and said this was the song she liked best. I will always be thankful for her encouragement.
It's one of the few songs where I solo, and it's completely composed.
I hope you enjoy and pass on to others...
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Saturday, September 24, 2016
When I Became a Sofa:
The other day I was thinking about how sofas tend to accumulate coins, pretzels, crayons, and so on, under the cushions. So if you happened to be a sofa, you would have a few basic necessities covered. You'd also always know where the remote was.
When I became a sofa I had plenty to eat,
Crackers, crumbs and Cheerios
I had spending money,
Yeah, I had pocket change
Pens, pencils and Mentos
I'm a big peppermint Mentos fan, although I have never felt good about eating them. They don't seem like legitimate food. Kind of like taffy.
Have you ever felt like a piece of furniture in someone else's life? I mean, you're there, but not necessarily noticed or appreciated.
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
When I was growing up, my brother and I were often babysat by a friend of the family who had her green velvet sofa covered in clear vinyl. I never thought it was weird. I thought it was cool, and it made a fun sound when you sat down or shifted your weight.
When I became a sofa, I was there at your parties,
I was the one against the wall
I didn't like that guy who was giving you the eye
I tripped him up into the dip
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
Years later, our family came into possession of that velvet sofa, minus the plastic cover. In college it became a place for friends to crash for the night. I normally ate my dinner sitting on that couch listening to the radio.
I eventually gave it away when I moved into an apartment that was too small to fit all of my hand-me-down furniture. It is probably still making someone's life a little better.
When I became a sofa, I looked the other way
You got a kitten that scratched my legs
Now I'm sitting by the curb, and I'm feeling so disturbed
I'll find another home and it will be OK
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
Home is where the sofa is. Hope you enjoy!
The other day I was thinking about how sofas tend to accumulate coins, pretzels, crayons, and so on, under the cushions. So if you happened to be a sofa, you would have a few basic necessities covered. You'd also always know where the remote was.
When I became a sofa I had plenty to eat,
Crackers, crumbs and Cheerios
I had spending money,
Yeah, I had pocket change
Pens, pencils and Mentos
I'm a big peppermint Mentos fan, although I have never felt good about eating them. They don't seem like legitimate food. Kind of like taffy.
Have you ever felt like a piece of furniture in someone else's life? I mean, you're there, but not necessarily noticed or appreciated.
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
When I was growing up, my brother and I were often babysat by a friend of the family who had her green velvet sofa covered in clear vinyl. I never thought it was weird. I thought it was cool, and it made a fun sound when you sat down or shifted your weight.
When I became a sofa, I was there at your parties,
I was the one against the wall
I didn't like that guy who was giving you the eye
I tripped him up into the dip
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
Years later, our family came into possession of that velvet sofa, minus the plastic cover. In college it became a place for friends to crash for the night. I normally ate my dinner sitting on that couch listening to the radio.
I eventually gave it away when I moved into an apartment that was too small to fit all of my hand-me-down furniture. It is probably still making someone's life a little better.
When I became a sofa, I looked the other way
You got a kitten that scratched my legs
Now I'm sitting by the curb, and I'm feeling so disturbed
I'll find another home and it will be OK
When you'd lay down for a nap
Watch the TV or read a book
I treasured the time we would spend together
We'd keep each other warm
In the snow and nasty weather...
Home is where the sofa is. Hope you enjoy!
Friday, September 16, 2016
Brother of Shared Meals:
When I was in college, I had a few close friends. One of them was Mike K. We rode bikes all over, looking for the places you can't see by car.
Exploring these ravines
Down in this hollow
Summer's heat blazing all around
Wading in knee deep
Ice cold pools and streams
Cool green shadows overrule
For me, college was a time to learn and grow. I barely paid attention to sports. I was more into books and exploring a part of town that was all new to me. Mike found a stream off to the side of the road with a deep, clear pool that we could wade into to cool off.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
Mike's old apartment doesn't exist anymore. It was demolished to make more parking spaces for a plasma clinic. But we spent many nights in his kitchenette discussing books we were reading. I read him the poems I was writing. He said that when I said the word "poetry" it sounded like "poultry," and that maybe I could start a new genre of poetry dedicated to chickens. I was probably deeply offended. We never really argued. But looking back, I was pretty hard-headed.
Brother of shared meals
Rice and beans and cheese
I find a five dollar bill
Walk to the corner store
To get your cigarettes
Two Coca-Colas, I can taste it still
Both of us had part-time jobs. Neither had a lot of money. Meals were simple. Finding money was kind of a big deal, at least for me. I actually remember finding a fiver in the middle of the road and splurging on Cokes, cookies or some other treat.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
One weekend Mike played every Clash CD back to back on his stereo with Cerwin-Vega speakers. I would not say I was a big Clash fan, but I grew to appreciate their songs especially from the London Calling album.
Lost in the supermarket...
That was years ago
Now we're graying at the temples
Our days are made of kids and jobs and wives
No going back,
But sometimes a song, a scent
Can bring a long forgotten memory to life...
I remember doing bike maintenance up in Mike's apartment. One time his bike's chain broke and he couldn't get it back together. It was a hot summer night. There was no A/C and hardly any breeze.
Mike, Omar, Sam and I took turns, sweat pouring down our faces, applying all of our concentration. Finally, using the little chain breaker tool, one of us was able to get the pin and plates back together. The relief. It was like we had cracked a safe with thousands of dollars waiting inside. Good times of camaraderie.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
When I was in college, I had a few close friends. One of them was Mike K. We rode bikes all over, looking for the places you can't see by car.
Exploring these ravines
Down in this hollow
Summer's heat blazing all around
Wading in knee deep
Ice cold pools and streams
Cool green shadows overrule
For me, college was a time to learn and grow. I barely paid attention to sports. I was more into books and exploring a part of town that was all new to me. Mike found a stream off to the side of the road with a deep, clear pool that we could wade into to cool off.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
Mike's old apartment doesn't exist anymore. It was demolished to make more parking spaces for a plasma clinic. But we spent many nights in his kitchenette discussing books we were reading. I read him the poems I was writing. He said that when I said the word "poetry" it sounded like "poultry," and that maybe I could start a new genre of poetry dedicated to chickens. I was probably deeply offended. We never really argued. But looking back, I was pretty hard-headed.
Brother of shared meals
Rice and beans and cheese
I find a five dollar bill
Walk to the corner store
To get your cigarettes
Two Coca-Colas, I can taste it still
Both of us had part-time jobs. Neither had a lot of money. Meals were simple. Finding money was kind of a big deal, at least for me. I actually remember finding a fiver in the middle of the road and splurging on Cokes, cookies or some other treat.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
One weekend Mike played every Clash CD back to back on his stereo with Cerwin-Vega speakers. I would not say I was a big Clash fan, but I grew to appreciate their songs especially from the London Calling album.
Lost in the supermarket...
That was years ago
Now we're graying at the temples
Our days are made of kids and jobs and wives
No going back,
But sometimes a song, a scent
Can bring a long forgotten memory to life...
I remember doing bike maintenance up in Mike's apartment. One time his bike's chain broke and he couldn't get it back together. It was a hot summer night. There was no A/C and hardly any breeze.
Mike, Omar, Sam and I took turns, sweat pouring down our faces, applying all of our concentration. Finally, using the little chain breaker tool, one of us was able to get the pin and plates back together. The relief. It was like we had cracked a safe with thousands of dollars waiting inside. Good times of camaraderie.
I thought I knew enough to talk over you
So full of myself, now I see what a fool
Reading books out loud,
Riding bikes at night
Clash playing on your stereo
And the city lights below...
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Shaving and Daydreaming:
The line originally went: "All the ketchup bottles that have come and gone," but that seemed more comic than sad. Then it was "All the hot sauce bottles..." That seemed like bragging.
Finally I searched for a mental image to accompany shaving. For a while now I've made brushing my teeth part of my daily hygiene routine. And it seems like I'm always running out of toothpaste. I know, the experts recommend using only a pea-sized portion, but I find that... Let's move on.
I've deleted you, repeatedly
Don't you remember? I'm the enemy.
All the toothpaste tubes that have come and gone
Since I said something wrong
Shaving and daydreaming
Blood drips on the porcelain...
I don't know if anyone else can relate, but I've had my share of happy, beautiful afternoons that somehow turned into sullen, unpleasant drives home. Half of these occurrences were due to a thoughtless comment on my part: criticism, talking about an old relationship, etc. OK, ALL of these occurrences. I'm a man. But I can change. If I have to. I guess.
Plaid blanket, picnic in the shade
You laugh eating watermelon, I like the way you fold your legs
All the sudden showers that have come and gone
Since I said something wrong
Animals strike curious poses
Awkward silence on the way back home...
I've always wanted to get that line from "When Doves Cry" into one of my songs. Finally I found the correct context, so it's my small tribute to Prince.
In the flashback/daydream, I wanted to talk about that incredible feeling of elation in a new relationship, where everything seems possible. Everywhere you go together is fantastic. The clouds seem majestic, spectacular. You may own next to nothing, but it feels like you're royalty.
We tasted unknown flavors,
King and queen of the city
The earth and moon were yours and mine
Mixed undiscovered colors
Endless fields of corn and wheat
Cloud castles to rule the sky
I live in the country, surrounded by horses, corn and soybeans. I have not seen wheat growing nearby for several years. I guess I could have used "endless fields of corn and soy." But somehow the word "soy" doesn't have the right seriousness to it. Maybe because it rhymes wth "toy."
What remains after a dream ends? That's the image I was trying to capture here:
I hold the ashes in my hand
What's left of our imaginary land
I hold the ashes in my hand
What's left of our imaginary land...
Now that I think about it, those would be imaginary ashes. Which are a lot easier to clean up than real ashes. I'm probably overthinking it.
Thanks for reading and listening!
The line originally went: "All the ketchup bottles that have come and gone," but that seemed more comic than sad. Then it was "All the hot sauce bottles..." That seemed like bragging.
Finally I searched for a mental image to accompany shaving. For a while now I've made brushing my teeth part of my daily hygiene routine. And it seems like I'm always running out of toothpaste. I know, the experts recommend using only a pea-sized portion, but I find that... Let's move on.
I've deleted you, repeatedly
Don't you remember? I'm the enemy.
All the toothpaste tubes that have come and gone
Since I said something wrong
Shaving and daydreaming
Blood drips on the porcelain...
I don't know if anyone else can relate, but I've had my share of happy, beautiful afternoons that somehow turned into sullen, unpleasant drives home. Half of these occurrences were due to a thoughtless comment on my part: criticism, talking about an old relationship, etc. OK, ALL of these occurrences. I'm a man. But I can change. If I have to. I guess.
Plaid blanket, picnic in the shade
You laugh eating watermelon, I like the way you fold your legs
All the sudden showers that have come and gone
Since I said something wrong
Animals strike curious poses
Awkward silence on the way back home...
I've always wanted to get that line from "When Doves Cry" into one of my songs. Finally I found the correct context, so it's my small tribute to Prince.
In the flashback/daydream, I wanted to talk about that incredible feeling of elation in a new relationship, where everything seems possible. Everywhere you go together is fantastic. The clouds seem majestic, spectacular. You may own next to nothing, but it feels like you're royalty.
We tasted unknown flavors,
King and queen of the city
The earth and moon were yours and mine
Mixed undiscovered colors
Endless fields of corn and wheat
Cloud castles to rule the sky
I live in the country, surrounded by horses, corn and soybeans. I have not seen wheat growing nearby for several years. I guess I could have used "endless fields of corn and soy." But somehow the word "soy" doesn't have the right seriousness to it. Maybe because it rhymes wth "toy."
What remains after a dream ends? That's the image I was trying to capture here:
What's left of our imaginary land
I hold the ashes in my hand
What's left of our imaginary land...
Now that I think about it, those would be imaginary ashes. Which are a lot easier to clean up than real ashes. I'm probably overthinking it.
Thanks for reading and listening!
Grace Kelly Crashed My Party:
My wife and I have probably watched Rear Window five times since we've been married.
Everyone has their favorite architectural element of the film, like the little sliver of busy street life you see between the buildings or the greenhouse-like studio apartment of the pianist-songwriter.
I like the railings and ledges that Lisa Fremont scales so gracefully in a dress and heels when sneaking into the locked apartment.
This song is inspired by that scene, which reveals that she has a much more adventurous spirit than Jeff supposed.
Grace Kelly died September 14, 1982, but that couldn't stop her from being the life of my party.
Grace Kelly crashed my party last night
But I didn't mind
She brought chips and salsa and we played charades
I never laughed, I never laughed so hard
A real live princess in my living room
She got my KISS records out
Plastered my fridge with Polaroid pictures
Ooh, baby!
I don't own any KISS records, but I liked that line from Cheap Trick's song Surrender, "Mom and Dad...got my KISS records out."
In Rear Window, there's the moment when Lisa, who had been dismissive of Jeff's theories, starts to believe.
Grace Kelly crashed my party last night
But I didn't mind
She asked to borrow my binoculars
We spied on the neighbors doing the cha-cha
She played twister like a straight up ghost
Euchre like a little old man
She let my daughters borrow her tiara
Ooh, baby!
For the bridge, I wanted her to share something that blessed the people at the party.
She said,
"Everybody wants to stay young forever
But after the boys of summer have gone
What we crave is kindness, mercy and compassion...
Let me show you a better way
Let me know you a better way
Let me show you, let me show you..."
The verses repeat, then at the end I worked in quotes from "Be My Baby" by Ronnie Specter and the Ronnettes, plus "Hey Ya!" by Outkast.
She said, "Be my, be my little baby!
Be my, be my little baby!
Shake it baby, shake it baby,
Shake it like a Polaroid picture!
My tribute to a beautiful, graceful princess.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
They Call Me Eddy:
I didn't set out to write a song about Eddy, the informant from the detective movie, Bullitt, but the character had stayed in my memory.
I read the book by Robert L. Pike (Fish). The book is set in New York, and the feeling is different. I don't remember Eddy appearing in the book. If so, he's not described as he appears in the movie.
Mixing it up in San Francisco
Righteous burnstache and amber sunglasses
Office girls walk by on their way to lunch
I stand in the shadows, waiting for the signal...
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
I took the liberty of giving Eddy more of a back story. He's only in the movie for a few minutes, just long enough to pass along some information about an crime syndicate to Frank Bullitt, SFPD.
I think you know what's in the briefcase
I think you know I can't be trusted
Documents that point to a certain someone
You know my boss, he's not a patient man, no!
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
Bosses in crime movies are hardly ever patient, so that detail was a given. It feels good to kind of shout that line when I'm singing.
Here's where Eddy states his manifesto, his desire to break from the bonds of his given role, rebelling against the script writer, and so on.
I'm just a bit player in a major motion picture
I'm not Steve McQueen, but if I play my cards right
I could end up with Jacqueline Bisset
I hear you laughing, stranger things have happened...
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
Now to grow a burnstache and find some amber sunglasses...
I didn't set out to write a song about Eddy, the informant from the detective movie, Bullitt, but the character had stayed in my memory.
I read the book by Robert L. Pike (Fish). The book is set in New York, and the feeling is different. I don't remember Eddy appearing in the book. If so, he's not described as he appears in the movie.
Mixing it up in San Francisco
Righteous burnstache and amber sunglasses
Office girls walk by on their way to lunch
I stand in the shadows, waiting for the signal...
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
I took the liberty of giving Eddy more of a back story. He's only in the movie for a few minutes, just long enough to pass along some information about an crime syndicate to Frank Bullitt, SFPD.
I think you know what's in the briefcase
I think you know I can't be trusted
Documents that point to a certain someone
You know my boss, he's not a patient man, no!
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
Bosses in crime movies are hardly ever patient, so that detail was a given. It feels good to kind of shout that line when I'm singing.
Here's where Eddy states his manifesto, his desire to break from the bonds of his given role, rebelling against the script writer, and so on.
I'm just a bit player in a major motion picture
I'm not Steve McQueen, but if I play my cards right
I could end up with Jacqueline Bisset
I hear you laughing, stranger things have happened...
They call me Eddy, they call me Eddy!
Now to grow a burnstache and find some amber sunglasses...
Cardigan Sweater:
Slash has his top hat. Buddy Holly had his horn-rimmed glasses. Fred Rogers had his cardigan sweater.
What would you say if I told you I was a monster?
Blond haired, blue eyed, authentic imposter
I say nasty things, they always come out pretty
Sucked into a whirlpool, won't you come down with me?
However, this song isn't about Mr. Rogers.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
I read a long article in the New York Times about the making of a documentary based on a singer-songwriter. The film was partly pieced together with home movies. The writer shared how hard it was to watch some scenes.
I keep saying I'm lost, they want to make me a hero
Floating detached in space, in gravity zero
Hear my baby crying, miles below
Hear my baby crying, miles below
Hear my baby crying, try to reach down to get her
My skin's freezing cold in my cardigan sweater...
The NY Times article touched on how hard it is to know, really know, a celebrity.
We know some details about famous people, sure. But there are always hidden moments, mementos, things dropped on the floor that roll under the stove, crumbs that are not documented anywhere.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor...
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
Sometimes you remember hearing a band for the first time: where you were and exactly what you were doing. I remember hearing this band over the radio in the campus bike shop at Land and High, waiting to have a bike tech look at my Mongoose Sycamore.
I remember feeling a little cooler, just by hearing the song. Like the first time I listened to Are You Experienced? straight through, using little foam headphones.
Got a railroad running up and down my arm
Imaginary tattoo of Charlie Parker over my heart
May you never hear, surf music
You never hear, surf music
May you hear surf music again...
I was sitting in my brother's basement family room watching the 7pm news when I saw the telephoto picture for the first time. I really wish I had never seen it.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor...
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
Slash has his top hat. Buddy Holly had his horn-rimmed glasses. Fred Rogers had his cardigan sweater.
What would you say if I told you I was a monster?
Blond haired, blue eyed, authentic imposter
I say nasty things, they always come out pretty
Sucked into a whirlpool, won't you come down with me?
However, this song isn't about Mr. Rogers.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
I read a long article in the New York Times about the making of a documentary based on a singer-songwriter. The film was partly pieced together with home movies. The writer shared how hard it was to watch some scenes.
I keep saying I'm lost, they want to make me a hero
Floating detached in space, in gravity zero
Hear my baby crying, miles below
Hear my baby crying, miles below
Hear my baby crying, try to reach down to get her
My skin's freezing cold in my cardigan sweater...
The NY Times article touched on how hard it is to know, really know, a celebrity.
We know some details about famous people, sure. But there are always hidden moments, mementos, things dropped on the floor that roll under the stove, crumbs that are not documented anywhere.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor...
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
Sometimes you remember hearing a band for the first time: where you were and exactly what you were doing. I remember hearing this band over the radio in the campus bike shop at Land and High, waiting to have a bike tech look at my Mongoose Sycamore.
I remember feeling a little cooler, just by hearing the song. Like the first time I listened to Are You Experienced? straight through, using little foam headphones.
Got a railroad running up and down my arm
Imaginary tattoo of Charlie Parker over my heart
May you never hear, surf music
You never hear, surf music
May you hear surf music again...
I was sitting in my brother's basement family room watching the 7pm news when I saw the telephoto picture for the first time. I really wish I had never seen it.
Details of a life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the kitchen floor...
Details of life get simplified to fit the storyline
Label and dismiss all the evidence you find
On the living room walls
If it makes you feel better...
Ballad of Nancy and Ned:
It happened during my dental checkup. The dental assistant asked me what I wanted to watch on the TV hanging in the corner. My youngest daughter was with me in the examination room, sitting in a chair trying not to look bored while she waited. There were two doorways in and out of the room, but no doors, I guess so patients don't feel trapped.
We passed through the daytime talkshows and food based reality shows. We finally landed on Scooby Doo, Where Are You?, the original series from 1969-70. It seemed like the most educational option. My daughter rolled her eyes.
Both of my daughters have been big fans of the Nancy Drew books for a long time. I'm not a Nancy purist. Elements of Scooby Doo are woven into my song.
There's a mystery we won't solve tonight
Over dinner, wine and candlelight:
Why you slip out from the movies
While I eat overpriced candy
So I follow you to the edge of town
Past the haunted mansion and halfway down
The abandoned mine, stumbling in the dark
The wax museum, old amusement park...
Watching the Nancy Drew TV show starring Pamela Sue Martin on Netflix, I've noticed that that Nancy's friend Ned is caught between attraction and wonder, cluelessness and admiration. So I guess this is my attempt to articulate Ned's emotions.
You don't seem to scare
Searching for the answers
You just pull back your hair
And brush away the cobwebs...
I noticed years ago when watching the X-Files that searching in the dark by flashlight makes you cool. Finding a secret portal, door, tunnel, etc., makes you look even cooler.
You find the hidden passageway
And hush me when I try to say
The secret code you write in
Gets clearer day by day...
I liked the idea of secrets not being all bad. Sometimes we think we know everything about someone close to us, and then they surprise us with some cool ability. My wife was surprised to find that I enjoy using an electric sewing machine. It is, after all, just another power tool. I was surprised to find that my wife has a good throwing arm, even though she never played baseball or softball growing up.
People say that secrets
Come between us
Oh, but I
Guess your guess is as good as mine
Guess your guess is as good as mine...
Hope you enjoy...
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Lullaby the Wave:
The first lines came to me when I was getting ready for work one morning.
I met a wave
She said her name was Lullaby
She smelled like the sunshine
I fell for her into the sea
She spoke to me
Of lonely places she had roamed
Hundreds of miles from shore
I could hear the roar in her whisper
I confess I've never surfed. I've tried unsuccessfully to water ski. People say it's easy once you get the hang of it. I face planted several times. I drank a lot of lake water. I guess I didn't want it bad enough.
I imagined that falling for a sort of sea sprite would leave a guy with some pretty intense memories, so I had my surfer daydreaming at work.
Now there's sand in my shoes to remind me
Sitting at my desk, I daydream
The pale green in her eyes
The danger in her smile
Lullaby, Lullaby
The line "Sand in my shoes" was an quote from a Drifters song. Check it out.
The sea is changing constantly with the tide, strong winds, storms, and so on. So I imagined Lullaby would change moods just as quickly.
She grew bored
From my surfboard she threw me hard
Laughing carelessly
Jealous but then suddenly indifferent
She said goodbye
A breaker crashing in the night
At dawn she was gone
And the ocean was calm and as smooth as glass
Now there's sand in my shoes to remind me
Sitting at my desk, I daydream
The pale green in her eyes
The danger in her smile
Lullaby, Lullaby
The third verse repeats the first, so the story is over.
Until another beautiful wave comes along.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
Pinball Saturday Night:
Shaun Cassidy. Know that name? As a 4th grader, I kind of resented his teen heartthrob status and flowing golden brown hair. My name was also Sean, but I was no heartthrob.
Well, many years later I walked into the living room as my daughters, ages 15 and 10, were watching the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew Mysteries show from the 70's, Mr. Cassidy's peak of popularity.
I had avoided the show when I was their age, but as a dad, I looked at it as an opportunity to bond with my kids. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying the show and looking forward to watching other episodes. It's funny, but I especially liked the episodes where Shaun sang his hit songs and played guitar. No kidding..
About that time I was traveling for work, and I had my ukulele with me. The first lines and music came pretty naturally.
I close my eyes as the plane leaves the ground
All the words you said still bouncing round my head
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
So I kept going. I wanted to somehow capture that 70s feeling in a song. The era before video games, when people would gather round a pinball machine. And a beautiful girl walking into a pizza place could turn heads. I guess that probably still happens.
At the pizza shop, hanging with my friends
You walk in, and that's when the game begins
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
In the bridge, I tried to connect the themes of plane travel and pinball machine. Looking down on the snowy ground at night, the city lights standing out in the darkness.
Winter's blanket covers the ground below
Your face still glowing in my mind
We met at that machine of wood and glass and chrome
Your perfume touching the divine,
Skin on skin, your hand touching mine!
And then the music gets quiet for the finish:
I wake up as the plane touches down
And all your kisses still spin me round and round
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
Thanks for reading and listening.
Shaun Cassidy. Know that name? As a 4th grader, I kind of resented his teen heartthrob status and flowing golden brown hair. My name was also Sean, but I was no heartthrob.
Well, many years later I walked into the living room as my daughters, ages 15 and 10, were watching the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew Mysteries show from the 70's, Mr. Cassidy's peak of popularity.
I had avoided the show when I was their age, but as a dad, I looked at it as an opportunity to bond with my kids. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying the show and looking forward to watching other episodes. It's funny, but I especially liked the episodes where Shaun sang his hit songs and played guitar. No kidding..
About that time I was traveling for work, and I had my ukulele with me. The first lines and music came pretty naturally.
I close my eyes as the plane leaves the ground
All the words you said still bouncing round my head
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
So I kept going. I wanted to somehow capture that 70s feeling in a song. The era before video games, when people would gather round a pinball machine. And a beautiful girl walking into a pizza place could turn heads. I guess that probably still happens.
At the pizza shop, hanging with my friends
You walk in, and that's when the game begins
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
In the bridge, I tried to connect the themes of plane travel and pinball machine. Looking down on the snowy ground at night, the city lights standing out in the darkness.
Winter's blanket covers the ground below
Your face still glowing in my mind
We met at that machine of wood and glass and chrome
Your perfume touching the divine,
Skin on skin, your hand touching mine!
And then the music gets quiet for the finish:
I wake up as the plane touches down
And all your kisses still spin me round and round
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby, yeah
Like a pinball, baby...
On a Saturday night!
Thanks for reading and listening.
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