The Dusty Towne Sexy Holiday Special! (1981)

In memory of Catherine O'Hara!

Best in Show (2000) Official Trailer

One of the best movies ever! (Catherine O'Hara's death brought me here---

I'm still trying to find meaningful O'Hara clips.)

Saturday Sun (Nick Drake, 1969, from his first album "Five Leaves Left")

Saturday sun
Came early one morning
In a sky so clear and blue
Saturday sun
Came without warning
So no one knew what to do

Saturday sun
Brought people and faces
That didn't seem much
In their day
But when I remember
Those people and places
They were really too good
In their way
In their way
In their way
Saturday sun
Won't come and see me today

Think about stories
With reason and rhyme
Circling through your brain
And think about people
In their season and time
Returning again and again
And again
And again
But Saturday's sun
Has turned to Sunday's rain

So Sunday sat
In the Saturday sun
And wept for a day gone by 

------------------------------------------------

The above album was recorded between May 1968 and April 1969, 

and released in Fall 1969.

This song strongly reminded me of John Lennon's "God" (released December 1970).
Lennon was still living in the UK at the time. Might he have been aware 

of this new Island Records release? And been influenced by it, just roughing it up?

(I'm sure Lennon, at this point in his drug-addled, confessional life, was disgusted 

by Drake's McCartney-esque wondering about the "everyday man"---oh, and the mellotron.

But the lugubrious core and pacing of this song and "God" are practically the same.) 

---------------------------------------------------

This is my favorite Nick Drake song that I've heard so far. I love it.

The Beatles - Twist & Shout (Live At The Royal Variety Performance: 1963)

A bad way of saying it:
Their lead singer would go on to regular LSD use and a heroin addiction 6 years later. 
He then lived with his radical Japanese wife in NYC and supported her causes; 

split from her in the mid-70s; got back together; and then was murdered in NYC in 1980.
Nobody would have ever, EVER predicted any of this horrible fate 

for the seemingly joyous spirit of John Lennon here in 1963.

WORST SONG/BAND EVER: Toto - Hold the Line (1978)

I was driving around nervous on icy streets a couple of days ago, 

listening to my favorite Austin radio station (Bob FM).

 I was hoping for something inspirational, but this god-awful song came on.
It took me back to my youth, yes, but in a very BAD way! 

This type of shite was what FM radio played constantly back in 1978! 

When I heard it today, I didn't even remember what band it was. 

Had to go home and type in "hold the line" to find out which band I'd hated so much as a kid.

 

My other pet peeves as a teen: Steely Dan and Jethro Tull and Doobie Brothers and Boston and Chicago. So much absolutely generic music that meant absolutely nothing. 

Styx---designated my 1983 high-school-grad class's Favorite Band (not by me)---

was also very bad, but not AS bad.

John Lennon: Help Me to Help Myself (1980)

[Raw track written by Lennon in 1980 before his death.
This instrumentation was added later.]

Well, I tried so hard to stay alive
But the angel of destruction keeps on houndin' me all around
But I know in my heart
That we never really parted, oh no

They say the Lord helps those
Who help themselves
So I'm asking this question in the hope that you'll be kind
'Cause I know deep inside
I was never satisfied, oh no

[Outro]
Lord, help me
Lord, help me now
Please, help me, Lord, yeah, yeah, yeah
Help me to help myself
Help me to help myself

Cold Turkey: John Lennon & Plastic Ono Band (Toronto 1969)

Nick Drake mentioned this song several times to his friends, according to the Jack bio.

This song from a former Beatle must have been a shocker to everyone. 
I'm guessing this was the precursor to, gave "permission" to, PUNK.
How utterly raw can you be?

Andy Griffith: Whoa Mule

Andy Griffith: A-Sleeping At The Foot Of The Bed (1967)

A palate-cleanser. Remake of the 1949 song by Little Jimmy Dickens.

Just for fun, I went to various "lyrics" sites that include interpretations of lyrics.
There are many "interpretations" of Nick Drake songs, for instance.
There were NONE for this one! Ha! 

"A big foot sittin' in your face" doesn't need much interpretation!
What a shocker: A good song expressing the EXACT thing!

Just waitin' for the lights to go out!

Big winter storm brewin' across Texas and many other states tonight. As I write this at 11:15pm Central, I still have power, but it's semi-predicted to go out by the time the Winter Storm Warning has run out on Sunday.

Thursday, I was one of those at Walmart buying big jugs of water, and beer and Cokes, plus a few canned goods---Ranch Style Beans are a staple! I actually also bought a loaf of white bread, though I'm not sure what good the bread slices will do me if I'm without power for a few days... But the water and beer and Ranch Style Beans, for sure I need!

Today (Saturday), I went and bought enough cigarettes to last me for the next few days. And took out all my trash. And put a towel over my car windshield.

Nothing's predicted to be anywhere near as bad as February of 2021: That was truly the worst I'd ever experienced, mainly because my apartment complex's water froze up and then was not restored for a full week! A week of no bathing or hair-washing at all! (I had store-bought jugs of water to brush my teeth with and to drink and to give to the cats. And the apartment pool water was available for us to lug to our apartments and flush our toilets with. But the apartment complex's pipes were old and faulty, and long after water was restored to the rest of Austin, we were still without any plumbing.)

The electricity and heat were also sporadically out for several days back in Feb. 2021, but I had a couple of flashlights, and I remember being bundled on my couch, reading the 1000-page tomes "The Letters of Sylvia Plath" (volumes 1 and 2) all the way through for the first time. And being aware that she had killed herself in a London February, also the coldest on record... (I was not anywhere near as mentally depressed as she had been, but I at least had some sense of her accompanying physical misery. In my case, though, I remember some of the mild exhilaration about solving problems: Like getting water from the pool to flush the toilets.)

And so I've been piddling around tonight---all lights and heat still on... It's now 11:45pm Central, and still nothing. Watching the weather reports, posting online...

I'll stay up as late as I can. Hopefully, when the lights go out, it'll be time for me to go to bed anyway!

Or else I'll just read about something via the lantern!

Nick Drake: One Of These Things First (1970)

I could have been a sailor, could have been a cook
A real-life lover, could have been a book.
I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock
As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.
I could be
Here and now
I would be, I should be
But how?
I could have been
One of these things first
I could have been
One of these things first.

I could have been your pillar, could have been your door
I could have stayed beside you, could have stayed for more.
Could have been your statue, could have been your friend,
A whole long lifetime could have been the end.
I could be yours so true
I would be, I should be through and through
I could have been
One of these things first
I could have been
One of these things first.

I could have been a whistle, could have been a flute
A real life-giver, could have been a boot.
I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock
As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.
I could be even here
I would be, I should be so near
I could have been
One of these things first
I could have been
One of these things first. 

----------------------------------------------------

My god, Sandra. I failed you. Just like this song says. I'm so sorry, honey.
You were weak, and I was just as weak (though I pretended not to be).

I did try to help you, a lot. Just not in the right way. You needed a stronger person.

(I needed help, too. I certainly wasn't strong enough for both of us.)
This song speaks to my great regret---being unable to help someone who needed either 

pure emotional understanding or hard-core money to pay her bills!
(I was too jealous of her memories to be a true friend. 

I certainly didn't have the money to pay her rent!)

Nick Drake bio by Jack

Just finished this hefty Nick Drake bio.

I started on my Drake kick a few weeks ago, when I read some random online list of "Best Songs" or something. I knew all of them EXCEPT for "Pink Moon." So, first, I had to find this song. I didn't really like it THAT much, but I then read more online about the singer and his young death, and got puzzled by why all of the hooplah about Nick Drake!

So far, I've listened to his last album, "Pink Moon," maybe 5 times. I just this week received 2nd album "Bryter Layter" and posthumous "Time of No Reply." (Was bored by "Bryter" upon first listen, but then I was bored by "Pink Moon" upon first listen, and then started liking it a lot more.)

I've also just ordered and received (but not yet read) the massive heavy-weight family tome "Nick Drake: Remembered For a While" (over 400 pages of personal photos, lyrics, father's diary entries about his son's last years, etc.), AND: "The Tide's Magnificence: Songs and Poems of Molly Drake" (!) --- A collection of 26 songs on CD, recorded at home by Nick Drake's mother, accompanied by her poems written from 1935 thru 1993.

This type of in-depth material is getting nuts, but it's also getting interesting! 

Nick Drake's mother and father were, by all accounts, very kindly, tolerant, well-traveled people. They met in Burma (the mom a bit younger), where Nick was born in 1948, then moved back to England in 1951. Father Rodney was an electronics executive with numerous connections, including getting his son into Cambridge, despite Nick's lack of intellectual substance. (One professor mentions his "Mona Lisa smile," and most mention his inability to communicate.)

Nobody seems to know what caused Nick Drake's mental breakdown post-1971. All friends say that he wasn't doing any more drugs than the rest of them (pot and hashish, but no accounts of LSD or heroin). All friends say that he would turn up at their apartments/houses and come in and sit with them, but barely speak. (Friends also said that his post-death reputation made it sound like he was silent except for "profound" remarks---but that this was untrue; he usually said nothing, but when he did speak, it was about trivial things like the weather.)

One friend said that Nick emerged briefly one night and was very engaging, as in his old days---but then shut down. (She said it was as if he'd had a captor who allowed him out only briefly and then pulled him back.) RE this bit of information: During his last 3 years of life, from 1971 thru 1974, when he lived at his parents' estate: There were numerous "cures" tried: Mental hospitals and therapy with doctors, electric-shock, drug treatment, etc. They all finally settled on heavy psychotropic drugs. 

But at one point, Nick also mentioned that he thought he should join the Catholic church so he could have an exorcism done on himself; that sounds crazy, but after reading the friend saying that it seemed like a "captor" was controlling him...Who knows if an exorcism was so insane after all? The talking-cure didn't work; the electro-shock didn't work; the psychiatric drugs didn't work...

Or else was he just a young man from a very privileged background who had thrown over Cambridge for an uncertain musical path---and then had no sales at all after his first two albums? And then was guilt-stricken upon having to return to his parents' home and being unable to create and thus justify his earlier life choice? Was it just a young man's stupid impulse to kill himself sans the foresight to know that things, including his brain chemistry, might perhaps change in the future?

A Red-Sweater Day

An awful psychological day that I'll always remember.

I'd lived with my very first lover since late December of 1989. (After meeting her in April of that year.)

In February of 1990---after 2 months of living together---we invited another lesbian couple over to our apartment (a dyke and her femme). Supposedly just to hang out and watch movies. 
One of the movies was Ken Russell's "Lair of the White Worm" (1988). At the point where the bare-breasted women were bouncing up and down en masse, the invited femme happened to be either in the kitchen or the bathroom, can't remember. At any rate, she wasn't present to watch this particular boob scene. After chortling "Go, Ken Russell!" my own lover insisted that we pause the film until Heather got back in the room. She then re-wound so Heather could see it.

Why? (Well, of course, I immediately knew why.)

The rest of the evening passed without further sexualized incident. The dyke and her accompanying femme Heather got wasted and couldn't drive home, and spent the night in our spare bedroom.

The next day, I had to go to work at the library at noon. My girlfriend and I woke up around 10 or 11. And the very first thing my girlfriend did upon waking up was jump out of our shared bed and go into the other room and smoke pot with the dyke and Heather.

The couple went home soon after. I don't remember what exactly I said to my girlfriend after they left. (I'm sure, and I hope, it was rough.)

But I remember going to work that next February day in a bright red wool sweater that I thought would be appropriate for the weather in February. That day turned out to be sweltering, and the sweater was miserable, despite how jaunty it looked, supposedly great for a February day. I was smothered by it all day long, and that physical feeling matched the nasty psychological feeling of the night before. I'd chosen the wrong clothing; I'd chosen the wrong lover.

(Post-Script: This first girlfriend and I broke up in late March. That spring and summer, she and I had still been sleeping together. One late evening, I drove by her apartment and peered through her blinds: What a surprise! There she was with Heather, making out on her couch! So I hadn't been so crazy after all. I threw a grill through her window.)

I feel bad for myself that this scuzzy person was my very first lover! (I'd just come out in April of 1989.)

But this creep had, as I knew from the beginning, been in prison for 8 years after committing a bank robbery back in the '70s! But what I did NOT know: She was known around Austin clubs for spiking girls' drinks! Once, after we'd broken up, we were talking at the bar and she left for a second; the kindly bartender then warned me to watch out for her...  Sadly, all I had to say was, "Well, she's my ex. I don't think she's going to spike my drink." 

(What a fact to deal with: I had been with someone who spiked girls' drinks in bars---I think the "bank robbery" was less bad than this.)

I waited until I was 23 to have sex for the first time. I wanted my first sex and my first relationship to be special and nice. Instead of "special and nice," I was psychologically damaged by an utter scumbag for the next few years! (Yeah, partially my fault for being weak, but still, in my defense: It was my very first, I was truly innocent, and I had Romantic notions.)

She's in her 70s now, so hardly a threat to anyone any more. But she was truly a pig back in the day. (Though she did get this interesting bank-robber story about herself in this 2016 Texas Monthly article --- in which she sounds just as stupid as she actually was/is.)

Paul McCartney: Caesar Rock (2018)

Paul McCartney: Happy With You (2018)

This 2018 album was released by McCartney when he was 77 years old.
Unlike the "American Recordings" multiple albums by Johnny Cash 

that were produced and released by Rick Rubin starting in 1994

(and getting more and more decrepit until Cash's death in 2003)
McCartney doesn't need some sort of "producer/rescuer."
Since he was a teen, McCartney has been capable of writing his own songs 

and telling his own stories, and expressing his own feelings---
sans the help of any latter-day marketer/producer.

Note also that McCartney's actual feelings as an older man aren't "dark and dismal" 

per the view of someone like Rubin, who milked the earlier Cash persona 

and controlled what cover tunes Cash sang. 

The persona in this McCartney song obviously has his regrets about his past behavior, 

but, like any normal person, he's grown up and now finds pleasure in simple things----

rather than being crushed by the past.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I hope to be able to express the below emotions to a loved one one day.
(Pot has never been my problem---I've always hated its paranoia-inducement. 

But I do drink a lot, and I do feel angry a lot. THAT cannot go on forever.)

I sat around all day
I used to get stoned
I liked to get wasted
But these days, I don't
'Cause I'm happy with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

I walked around angry
I used to feel bad
But nowadays, my days
Don't have to be sad
'Cause I'm happy with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Like hear the high clear robin sing
Walk a bluebell carpet
Watch the children playing games
Catch a moon and drop it
Hear the gentle mantle roll
On a frosty morning
See the mighty ocean break
Like a sailor's warning

I used to drink too much
Forgot to come home
I lied to my doctor
But these days, I don't
'Cause I'm happy with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Throw a pocketful of coins in the Trevi Fountain
See an ice-cold running stream
Rushing down the mountain
Hear a newborn baby lamb
Calling for its mother
Watching reunited friends
Loving one another

I sat around all day
I liked to get stoned
I used to get wasted
But these days, I don't
'Cause I'm happy with you
I got lots of good things to do, oh yeah

Mm, happy with you
I'm happy with you
Happy with you

Nick Drake: Things Behind the Sun (1972)

Please beware of them that stare
They'll only smile to see you while
Your time away

And once you've seen what they have been
To win the earth just won't seem worth

Your night or your day

Who'll hear what I say?

Look around you find the ground
Is not so far from where you are
But don't be too wise

For down below they never grow
They're always tired and charms are hired
From out of their eyes

Never surprise

Take your time and you'll be fine
And say a prayer for people there
Who live on the floor
And if you see what's meant to be
Don't name the day or try to say
It happened before

Don't be shy you learn to fly
And see the sun when day is done
If only you see

Just what you are beneath a star
That came to stay one rainy day
In autumn for free

Yes, be what you'll be

Please beware of them that stare
They'll only smile to see you while
Your time away

And once you've seen what they have been
To win the earth just won't seem worth
Your night or your day

Who'll hear what I say

Open up the broken cup
Let goodly sin and sunshine in
Yes that's today
And open wide the hymns you hide
You'll find renown while people frown
At things that you say
But say what you'll say

About the farmers and the fun
And the things behind the sun
And the people round your head
Who say everything's been said
And the movement in your brain
Sends you out into the rain

Lucinda Williams: Which Will (1992 re-make of Nick Drake)

Nick Drake: Which Will (1972)

Which will you go for?
Which will you love?
Which will you choose from?
From the stars above

Which will you answer?
Which will you call?
Which will you take for
Your one and all?

And tell me now
Which will you love the best?

 Which do you dance for?
Which makes you shine?
Which will you choose now?
If you won’t choose mine

Which will you hope for?
Which can it be?
Which will you take now?
If you won’t take me

And tell me now
Which will you love the best?

I'm in the process of reclaiming my home from...

...one particularly un-fixed, sloppy, very loud little cat named Cinco (aka "Cinco Beasley" because she is comforting like the Mrs. Beasley doll)!  

My Mama Cat and her 3 kittens were born in April 2019. I got all of them fixed about 6 months later.

The orphan Cinco started hanging around in December of 2019. After weeks of her sitting first on my front window-sill, and then around the back door, and after one particularly cold and rainy December night where she was huddling underneath a small bush in the backyard for protection, I let her inside because she was so pitiful. (And, seriously, for the next entire year, she did not let me touch her! She would eat regularly, and interact with the other cats, and then, eventually, she started sitting near me---but it took a whole year before she'd allow me to pet her!)

Today, after 6 years, Cinco is very sweet, but she's also an annoying pest because she's not fixed! She's fine for a few months at a time, but then she starts YOWLING and spraying on everything! My god, the spraying! 

I'd given up on ever having nice things again, including sofa cushions. (I long ago learned to not ever leave my shoes or flip-flops on the floor, because Cinco will pee on them.) BUT: After viewing various cushions sadly for months now, I finally realized: They have covers with zippers on them! I can wash them! And today I did just that! And they all turned out beautifully after! 

Now, to try to scrape off the Cinco-vomit from my expensive side-chair... (Not to single out Cinco: My other cats do throw up, too. But they all seem to throw up in appropriate / easy-to-clean places LIKE THE FLOOR, and NOT on the fabrics of couches and beds and chairs!)

Dammit, Cinco! :)  ("Curly top and a curly tail"---Now, how to get you fixed...)

Chumbawamba: Tubthumping (1997)

THAT'S RIGHT, MOTHERFUCKER!  :)

p.s. While at a stoplight in Austin yesterday, there was a young man standing there with a cardboard sign that said only "FUCK YOU." 

My first instinct was "Oh my goodness. Shouldn't people begging for money at least put on a happy face and ask nicely?"
My second instinct, as I turned the corner: I flashed him a big smile and a big middle finger. 

He grinned back. I think we understood each other.

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down

(Pissing the night away, pissing the night away)

He drinks a Whiskey drink, he drinks a Vodka drink
He drinks a Lager drink, he drinks a Cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him of the better times

(Oh Danny Boy, Danny Boy, Danny Boy)

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You are never gonna keep me down

Dream Academy: "Life In A Northern Town" (1985)

I loved this song when it came out. 
Years later, this band said the song was inspired by Nick Drake.

TALLY BROWN sings SURABAYA JOHNNY

I just watched the film "Tally Brown, New York" via Criterion Channel. And am now contemplating the question of who we want to represent our most intimate feelings. 

And the question of: "What if someone hideous-looking feels just as we do and represents our feelings in song much more meaningfully than any better-looking person?"
Most hideous-looking people could not grab our attention: But Tally Brown does.
You can't look away from her. And thank you for sharing our innermost feelings.

A Deep Dive into Andy Griffith's Weird Career

OK, the mainstream background:
Andy Griffith is brilliant in 1957's "A Face in the Crowd." (Directed by Kazan, written by Budd Shulberg.) This has remained one of my Top 10 favorite movies for a couple of decades now. 

But part of the general fascination, of course, is the dichotomy between Griffith as the decrepit "Lonesome Rhodes" in 1957 and his subsequent TV role as the beloved, laid-back, decidedly non-decadent Sheriff Andy Taylor in "The Andy Griffith Show" (1960 - 1968). 
Two decades later came his grandfatherly, slyly humorous lawyer "Matlock" in the series of that name (1986 - 1995), which was also very popular (but which I despise---the writing is GOD-AWFUL and the epitome of the cheesiness of that era!). 

Griffith's actual film credits from 1957 thru 2009 are not that many:

• A Face in the Crowd (1957)
• No Time for Sergeants (1958)
• Onionhead (1958)
• The Second Time Around (1961)
• Angel in My Pocket (1969)
• Hearts of the West (1975)
• Rustlers' Rhapsody (1985) [I just recently watched this "Blazing Saddles" wannabe on YouTubeTV. It's only mildly clever. Griffith plays a mildly gay rancher.]
• Spy Hard (1996)
• Daddy and Them (2001)
• The Very First Noel (2006) (voice)
• Waitress (2007)
• Christmas Is Here Again – Santa Claus (2007) (voice)
• Play the Game – Grandpa Joe (2009)

Griffith is on record as saying that he thought he would be "hot stuff" after the "Andy Griffith Show" run ended in 1968---only to find that there were zero offers coming his way.

And so, post-"Andy Griffith Show" and pre-"Matlock" (a span from '68 thru '86) he resorted to quite a number of made-for-TV movies, of varying quality.

Because I'm currently obsessed with Andy Griffith, here are the cheap DVDs of several of his TV movies (and 1 theatrical release) that I was able to recently purchase online from Amazon:

The Strangers in 7A (1972, CBS. Co-starring Ida Lupino.) Andy as disgruntled husband/building super who cheats on Ida with a cheap floozy and gives her a rent-free apartment---and look what happens! [My god! Griffith and Ida Lupino as victims of drug-addled youth! Can't wait to see this!]

Salvage I and II (1979, ABC).  Andy as a junk-man trying to salvage scrap metal from the moon. (Yes! The moon!)

Murder in Coweta County (1983, CBS. Co-starring Johnny Cash, June Carter Cash, plus Griffith's new young wife Cindy in a minor role). Andy as a real-life murderer who went to the electric chair for killing his hired man. [I recently watched this, available on YouTube TV: A perfectly respectable TV movie! Decent writing. Decent acting by Griffith and Cash. No camp value whatsoever.]

And a 4-film DVD for me to splurge on when I am feeling especially lonesome/drunk in the future: 
Pray for the Wildcats (1974, ABC. Co-starring William Shatner, Robert Reed, Angie Dickinson). Andy is a psycho businessman who organizes a maniacal dirtbike competition among his employees. (Yes! A dirtbike competition!)
Street Killing (1976, ABC). Andy as DA prosecuting mob.
A Song for the Season (In US: A Holiday Romance. 1999, CBS. Griffith 3rd billed. Starring Gerald McRaney and Naomi Judd)
Daddy and Them (2001, theatrical release). Written and directed by Billy Bob Thornton. Co-starring Thornton. Griffith is 4th-billed.]

More to come!

 

 

How many bad things can you do to your lungs at once?!

I think I just set the record today!

My apartment was feeling/smelling especially sluggish and stinky today. (I usually have some windows open, but there's usually not a breeze drifting through.)

1) I decided to vacuum for the first time in months. And threw some powerful "Pet Fresh" powder down on the carpet ahead of time.
2) I then sprayed some Glade "Balsam and Spruce" around the place.
3) And then I lit a stick of sandalwood incense.
4) And then I warmed up a bowl of "Forest" fragrance oil.
5) After all of the above activity, I sat down and relaxed with a cigarette!

One, two, three, four, five----That's five things I just did that were allegedly terrible! :)

But the place now smells great!

2000: Volkswagen "Pink Moon" ad that brought the dead Nick Drake to everyone's attention

The 1972 song is evocative, but the cheesy acting/obligatory minority casting/theme 
is Straight Outta Biden/DEI 2016:

"OMG---there's some rough-housing outside of a bar! We shouldn't be here!
Quick---Drive away and look forlorn at how humanity has forsaken us!"

[Just wondering, according to this vid: If you're so in search of "your own mellow," 

why do you even venture outside of your own home? 

Isn't that the point of BEING ALIVE---to participate in/witness OTHER things?
WITHOUT driving away from them?]

-------------------------------------

p.s. Volkswagen first tried, and failed, to get a song by The Church---

one of my favorite bands of the '80s/90s. 

Have no idea what Church song they would have tried to insert here:
Probably "Under the Milky Way." 

So I guess a similarly spacy song about any celestial object was the next best thing---

especially since the singer was dead and they could thus get the song for cheap!

---------------------------------

The VERY BAD lyrics to "Pink Moon" (in their entirety):

I saw it written and I saw it say
Pink moon is on its way
And none of you stand so tall
Pink moon gonna get ye all

And it's a pink moon
Yeah, it's a pink moon
Pink, pink, pink, pink
Pink moon
A pink, pink, pink, pink
Pink moon

(I think many of today's Nick Drake fan-boys/girls like the "ye" and read too much into it.

And I was just on one "lyrics explained" site, where one girl said 

"I think the pink moon means he is waiting for his true love."---!)
In Native American folklore, a "pink moon" means it's April, and thus time for spring 

and its accompanying pink flowers that cover the land.
Drake, though, makes it sound like a death sentence.

Nick Drake: Free Ride (1972)

I know you
I care too
I see through
All of the pictures that you keep on the wall
All of the people that will come to the ball
But hear me calling, won't you give me
A free ride?
Hear me calling, won't you give me
A free ride?

I know too
What you do
When you're through
Counting the cattle as they go by the door
Keeping the carpet that's so thick on the floor
But hear me calling, won't you give me
A free ride?
Hear me calling, won't you give me
A free ride?

Moment ICE Agent Fatally Shoots Woman in Minneapolis

I'm very much pro-Trump and pro-ICE (and I know this woman was a paid Communist agitator), BUT:
She did not come anywhere near hitting any of the officers with her car.
She should have stopped when instructed; but she should NOT have been murdered 

when she did not stop. I understand the ICE agents' "Commie Protestor Fatigue." 

But this was not a case to shoot and kill. (Save it for the truly violent criminals.)
p.s. Both Republican Kristi Noem and Communist Mayor Jacob Frey 

and their subsequent statements are phony and idiotic.

Creedence Clearwater Revival: Fortunate Son

An anti-Vietnam-war anthem in 1969.
In 2026: Give Maduro hell, Trump!
Thanks to all the real soldiers who made it happen.

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Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Ooh, they're red, white and blue
And when the band plays "Hail To The Chief"
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh
But when the taxman come to the door
Lord, the house lookin' like a rummage sale, yeah

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no, no
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

Yeah!
Some folks inherit star-spangled eyes
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask 'em, "How much should we give?"
Ooh, they only answer, "More! More! More!" Yo

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no
It ain't me, it ain't me

With a Little Luck (Paul McCartney: 1978)

Who is this drummer-lady??

The Goodwill store nearest my apartment is kind of generic: racks and racks of cheap NEW shirts, for example, but not many vintage "finds." But today I was out and about and wound up at another far-away Goodwill. And came across the portrait of this lady!

At first I kind of smirked, as I usually do when I see the art dumped off at Goodwill: "Who in the world would ever buy this??" 

But then I noticed something interesting to me: This old lady was holding a pair of drumsticks in her hand!! That set off my wondering! 

First, her eyes are canny and shrewd: She's far from a sedate, "genteel" old lady posing for a vanity painting.
But her hair is styled; and her jacket is middle-class nice, from a department store; and her nails are painted a light pink. (Though her lipstick is a far hotter shade of pink!)
She has no fancy jewelry to show off (no necklace at all), except for a single turquoise ring featured prominently (again, an indication of "middle-class nice").
And then there are those drumsticks! 

Did she have a hard-scrabble musician/roadhouse past in her early years but eventually married a nice man who gave her a decent life later? (Her eyes and her sticks indicate she's still proud of her past; her clothing/ring/hair indicate she's proud of her present.)

Who is/was this lady, and who painted her? 

It's a 16 x 24 oil. With actual brush-strokes, so someone really did paint it. And it looks pretty new---the canvas sides are still white, not discolored, and the back is in good condition. Is it someone's grandma who used to be a musician/drummer in Austin back in the '50s? (Wouldn't that be a cool family memory or keepsake? So why is the painting now discarded in a Goodwill store?) 

I paid $10.99 for her. I've named her "Miss Earlene" and hung her in my entryway as the Patron Saint of my older years to come. (But I'd still like to learn about her real history!)

 

 

The Mayberry Midnight Special

Andy Griffith + The Dillards | A-Sleeping At The Foot Of The Bed (1967 TV)

Andy Griffith Show: "There Is a Time"

Andy Griffith Show: Clip from the "Mr. McBeevee" episode (Season 3)

My god, this acting (from both Ronny Howard and Griffith) is heart-breaking and great! 

Scenes like this are why this show is revered today.
(Every time I watch this episode and the "Opie the Bird Man" episode, I cry.)

U2: New Year's Day (1983)

I WILL BEGIN AGAIN.

My Delayed Champagne

On the eve of December 30, I drank a lot, until 4am, with my alarm set for 8am. I knew that there was nothing for me to do at work on December 31, and that I could just clock in and sit there. Which is what I did.

But being hung over all day on December 31 completely messed up any sense of mild joy I'd once gotten from having my champagne and watching New Year's Eve celebrations on TV. (Long ago, I used to actually go OUT on New Year's Eve, but that is LONG past!) 

On this New Year's Eve, I made it thru the work-day with the hang-over, went to sleep on the couch from about 6 to 9pm, then suffered through the constant fireworks in the neighborhood until about 3:30am. I DID channel-surf after 9pm and watch the various celebrations. But, for the first time ever, I did not even bother to open the bottle of champagne I'd bought to toast the New Year at midnight. 

I had bought my bottle of champagne a day before, so I was prepared. But I just felt too crappily hung over and sluggish to celebrate anything at midnight.

Luckily for me, the various fireworks bursting until past 3am weren't THAT close or terrible or PTSD-inducing this year. My multiple cats got freaked out a few times and ran and hid, and I felt badly for them. But there was nothing close enough to my front door to make me get up and go out and confront anyone----which has happened in past years! So I'm grateful that I got to stay inside my apartment this year.

After napping from 6 to 9pm December 31, then being on tense-alert for the rest of the night while all the various fireworks went on 'til after 3am... I finally got to sleep from 6am to 9am. Woke up in the New Year feeling mildly triumphant: I made it through last night! Slept again until noon. Then finally got up and showered and went off and did some New Year's Day stuff, like gassing up and washing my car! And dropping off my rent check. And then updating my Joan website and packing up the items I'd sold online.

Finally, on January 1, at midnight: I finally felt relaxed enough to crack open the bottle of champagne I'd bought and pour a glass! Photo with my usual backdrop of tape and paper-towels!

Happy New Year!

p.s. On the night of January 1, I was still tensed-up, fully expecting more fireworks outbursts, as has occurred in previous years... As of 2am, I haven't heard a thing! Wow! Thanks!