Perception vs. Reality

It probably starts with Santa.

The Wizard of Oz reinforced it at a young age as well. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

A professor of mine once lectured about the importance of the Tuxedo as a Free Pass. Anytime he had a hotel gig in his tux, he could go wherever he wanted without question. He ate many delicious and free meals this way and also once saw a private concert of KC and the Sunshine Band.

and Dean Martin drank apple juice.

The Rhythm of the Road

My wagon is often filled with gear. It doesn't always get back inside after a gig, depending on the proximity of the next.

Recently, deep inside of a milk crate somewhere, lies a tambourine. She shakes and jingles as I cruise over bumps and potholes. I tell people she's keeping the time of the road. The Rhythm of the Journey.

Frank

He has said horrible things.

He knows that people will think he is senile, and he admitted to me that this is why he says horrible things.

He is old. He has a beard and chews a cigar. He can chew your ear off at the same time.

He repeats the same stories.

He carved a walking stick for me, using big knives. There is an old man's face carved into the handle. I wonder if it was a self-portrait.

The ambulance took him away yesterday. People sat on their front porches and watched solemnly. I thought that was crude, so I came inside and sat on the computer, only to realize I was being crude, and selfish. So I sat back down on my porch like the others, and watched.

The emergency crews seemed in good spirits when they loaded him into the ambulance. But he was strapped down good on the stretcher.

This morning I wonder about Frank...

The Wheels of Life

I was walking through downtown Rockport, where the streets are narrow.

Eventually, my path was impeded by two carriages. In one sat a baby girl, being escorted, I assume, by her mother. The other was a wheelchair, in which sat an old woman, being escorted, I assume, by her daughter. They did not appear to be in the same party. It seemed that their paths too had intersected at this very same moment.

The baby points to the old lady, and in an extremely baby-like manner exclaimed, "aaahhhh.....bleh...blah, gabba gabba....meh meh...wa"

The woman driving the wheelchair leaned down and says, "Mom, she said she digs your wheels..."

Music is the Sweet Infinity

Music is infinite. It goes back in time, forever. I once saw a guitar at a museum, it was hundreds of years old and the body was made of a tortoise's shell.

Music also goes forward. There is so much music being created all over the world every minute that the hippest cats can't keep up, even with the help of the internet.

Left and Right. I love American music, but it is a toenail in the Grand Scheme. I look forward to discovering the rhythms, melodies, scales, instruments, musicians, and songs that the World has to offer.

An Open Letter to the Bearded Smoking Man

To the Bearded Smoking Man on Route 133 in Ipswich:

We are night people, like you. One night we were particularly fascinated with the other Night People on this long, winding road. Joggers. Smokers, like yourself. Commuters, like myself.

They seemed to appear suddenly. I'm sure we had passed them for months, but on this night they seemed to be overwhelming in number. And we chuckled.

As we approached the last leg of the journey, we came through downtown Ipswich. And there you were. An awe-inspiring beard. Smoking solemnly, right up on the road. We liked you, instantly...

And as the months passed, we started to truly Realize your existence. Your persistence. Your tenacity.

You were always there. Although, we like to think you are truly enjoying each moment. That you do not take them for granted.

Have you always been there?

Maybe the night air is muggy and thick. You are a cool breeze as we drive past. If the night was rough, you help us envision the success of the next one. We anticipate your presence, but try not to wish for it, for fear that wishing may jinx everything...

I don't want anything further from our relationship. I might nod as we pass, maybe flash a peace sign if the mood is right. I don't expect you to nod back, but I hope you do.