Monday, December 12, 2016


Great read worth the time.



John Oates had six number one hits, twelve straight in the top ten, 34 songs in the top 100.

He knew how to write a hit.





http://www.songwritersonprocess.com/blog/2015/2/26/john-oates-hall-and-oates

Wednesday, December 7, 2016



I like this poem.



Fiction 
Howard Nemerov

The people in the elevator all
Face front, they all keep still, they all
Look up with the rapt and stupid look of saints
In paintings at the numbers that light up
By turn and turn to tell them where they are.
They are doing the dance, they are playing the game.

To get here they have gone by avenue
And street, by ordinate and abscissa, and now
By this new coordinate, up. They are three-
dimensional characters, taken from real life;
They have their fates, whether to rise or fall,
And when their numbers come up they get out.





Tuesday, December 6, 2016


Great show Saturday night.




Thanks Rob!




This is a shot I took before the show.





The old church had a comforting velvet soft vibe.

I was listening. 



Thursday, December 1, 2016

 
What did 1967 people think the world would be like in 1999.

What this short film and find out.



Tuesday, November 29, 2016




Soothing dreamlike inspiration.


Spend a few minutes.

Like a lawn chair for your mind.

http://www.thomas-blanchard.com/Accueil.html




Saturday, November 26, 2016


Nope.

Never give up folks.

More Than A Feeling was recorded in a basement.......

Tom Scholz was about to give up after years of rejections.

One last try.

One more.



http://www.ew.com/article/2016/03/13/more-feeling-boston-tom-scholz





https://youtu.be/SSR6ZzjDZ94

More Than a Feeling
Tom Scholz

I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
as clear as the sun in the summer sky

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

When I'm tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
and dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away

It's more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away

Monday, November 21, 2016



Sun is shining fire bright orange. 

Trees are naked except for a few oaks.

Temps in the low thirties.


Three weeks ago


Song title using the snap shots. 

Taken 3 weeks ago.

I'm timing my song with two large tumblers of coffee.

Get you pencil out and grab some coffee.

Fun.




Saturday, November 19, 2016


Buffalo Skinner Records set up their portable recording studio in my cabin Wednesday morning.


I wanted to post cool pics and banter during this marathon two day recording session.

But........

Making a record wears you out mentally and physically. You feel like you ran a 72 hour gauntlet with exploding smiles slappin' at you and laughs lashin' at you.
All while stumbling through a pressure packed tunnel. Strumming your way to safety......I felt like there was a midget devil inside my Martin ready to reach a tiny hot red finger out of the sound hole and grab a string or two during the last few bars........and send a fantastic take to hell..............

All you left in you at the end of the taping was.....



the ability to sit around and trade songs till the tape started rolling again.

Got 16 songs in the can. A bag of sad, happy, goofy, odd ball stuff.

Just like I planned.


It's hard to think behind a mic screen.



My song list was shuffled, erased, altered and augmented.


Co executive producers Rob and Toby discussing song selection.


Blink once if you didn't like the cut.........


My co-writers on Dirty Socks take 5 after singing harmony.


Toby didn't need to wear headphones.





Got the cake baked.

The tracks will be iced at Buffalo Skinner Studio headquarters.

The studio magic will wash my vocal tracks. Gonna' need a Sam's size box of Tide.......

Massage my rhythm guitar tracks........ I can envision a power surge when the transistors, capacitors, flangers, compressors, and other space age expensive red and yellow lighted electric stuff gets the first taste of my guitar feed.

 Nap time.

I will update progress and post some tracks when I get em.

The bubble has burst.

I can breath again.

Now I gotta' get back in the saddle and write 16 for the next record.




Tuesday, November 15, 2016


I really didn't know what to expect going back to Marietta. I had high expectations. Have a pizza at Pastime Pizza where I used to work. Visit the Time Out Bar and see my old boss John. Maybe shoot a game of pool. Heck, it had only been 40 years. What could of changed? Might even run into some old buddies at The Mecca and check on the mural painted on the back brick wall.
Go to the TKE House and see some frat brothers. Check on my sculpture Marietta National Bank bought at my senior art show. Visit with my old professors.


Well things didn't quite go as planned. Fraternity row was no more. The houses were there but they were adminstration this or bureaucratic that. The quonset hut sculpture studio was closed and locked down. Guess art students down weld steel or carve marble or walnut anymore. The main street thru campus was closed to cars. You couldn't find a college kid with a free pizza. It was 50 degrees. Too cold to hang out and walk campus? I guess. The A&P grocery store where I used to buy a 6 pack of Goebel beer for 61 cents, including tax, was another administration something.

More later.

Monday, November 14, 2016



I headed to Marietta, Ohio Friday morning for a show and to kick around my old haunts. My buddy Rob McNurlin is friends with Marty and his band and got us comp VIP tickets! Thanks Rob!


I lived there for eight years and earned a Marietta College interdisciplinary degree in Art and Philosophy. Wanted to visit my old memories. Maybe wake a few up.

I reserved a room at The Lafayette Hotel with a riverfront balcony. The hotel is a couple of hundred years old and stuffed with history. I used to work there, in cooperation with the college, restoring The Becky Thatcher paddle wheel riverboat. I have sack full of unfinished songs that a river view room would help me over the edge. I was excited. Upon front desk arrival I was greeted by a gruff employee that disliked small talk. Getting off the mouse small elevator, I noticed that my room was on the wrong side of the building to view the river. It was! A parking lot dumpster view would not get the pencil moving.

After an nice 30 minute lobby wait in a purple oak handled couch Abraham Lincoln might of sat in, I was told that the hotel manager had checked my reservation and that indeed I had specifically asked for a parking lot view.

You can't make this stuff up!


Pulling up to the Hampton Inn there was a Dad unloading a Red Dodge minivan stuffed with kid stuff filling the room cart thing you can never steer. I see the automatic doors open and a red dressed little girl maybe 2 or 3 running to her Dad. I drive like an old farmer going to Sunday Services so speed is never a problem. I simply stopped. No skid. Not even a hint of a Goodyear squeal. He gives me a scared look. So does the girl. I get out of my truck and enter the lobby. A mother with a few more kids is standing at the desk. She comes up to me teary eyed and says "Thanks for not running over my little girl!" Then she hugs me.

I thought the Marietta news crew was gonna be called. What a fuss. I was guest of the day for sure.

More in a bit. The adventure is just getting started.






Thursday, November 10, 2016




here is a teaser

In Jungian psychology, the shadow is the instinctive, irrational, unconscious aspect of the personality, both “a reservoir for darkness” and “the seat of creativity.” That characterization works as a visual metaphor in Plato’s Dogs: “Dogs are a creation of humans — bred for herding, sheep-hunting, sitting in our laps — but lurking inside, there there’s still this other wild thing,” Roma says. “The shadows, being such primitive drawings, make us aware that they’re also related to the wolf and the coyote.”

http://hyperallergic.com/333094/unleashing-dogs-inner-spirits-in-photographs-of-their-shadows/?

what if we photographed human shadows........