WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Boomer Blues:
byVanderleunonJanuary 20, 2021
You know, I’m free, free now, baby I’m free from your spell Oh, free, free, free now, baby I’m free from your spell And now that it’s all over All that I can do is wish you well
O yea! Love the blues,,,,,,,takes me places I could never reach otherwise!.
Good stuff
DW
ZaphodJanuary 21, 2021, 12:03 AM
Pursued by a Genderqueer Bear looking suspiciously like Andrew Sullivan.
Paul Boomer vs. Lord WindisphereJanuary 21, 2021, 5:54 AM
Got fweedom fries?
Rob MuirJanuary 21, 2021, 7:23 AM
Ah, BB King, he left us before we were ready. Obviously, the others are great guitarists, but BB was the master. In the intro, the sweet melody that he plays against those bluesy chord changes is so poignant, and so typical of his style.
In 1976 I was working for a gent who ran a recording studio and did live sound. He got the gig for the sound system for a BB King concert, and a couple of us went along as roadies, more or less. He didn’t have a separate board for the stage mix, so he was mixing for the monitors at the main desk position. Mr. King’s plane was late and they arrived for the show about 30 minutes after start time, so no sound check. We did everything on the fly and the stage mix was problematic. I kept running between the stage and main desk offering updates. One time, Mr. King put his arm around my shoulders and said: “Son, I can’t hear Lucille. Can you do something about that?” I said “Yes, sir” and ran back to the main desk and Sammy turned up Lucille in the monitors. My next trip to the stage he gave me a great big smile. That is one of the musical high lights of my life.
TerryJanuary 21, 2021, 8:06 AM
Fantastic performance. Thank you Gerard.
At 4:53, is that guy in the background frame next to the beautiful girl, Phil Spector? Just curious.
Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair, Show an affirming flame.
— excerpt from W.H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939”
PAINE IS ALWAYS ON POINT
Lament for the Rohirrim
Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
The scientists are in terror
and the European mind stops
Wyndham Lewis chose blindness
rather than have his mind stop.
Night under wind mid garofani,
the petals are almost still
Mozart, Linnaeus, Sulmona,
When one’s friends hate each other
how can there be peace in the world?
Their asperities diverted me in my green time.
A blown husk that is finished
but the light sings eternal
a pale flare over marshes
where the salt hay whispers to tide’s change
Time, space,
neither life nor death is the answer.
And of man seeking good,
doing evil.
In meiner Heimat
where the dead walked
and the living were made of cardboard.
from Preludes
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o’clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
— Eliot
ARTIST: CASEY KLAHN
Song of Myself
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this
air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
— Walt Whitman
“From a student radical/hippie/leftist of the Free Speech Movement/Vietnam Day Commitee era and a full-on Democratic Liberal in the decades after, I think I’ve evolved a politics that is neither right nor left but is, in its elemental nature, draconian. In the last 20 years, I’ve taken apart my beliefs with a sledgehammer. Now I’ve got to put the surviving parts back together with tweezers and other ‘shabby equipment, always deteriorating’.”
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Gerard Van der Leun
1692 MANGROVE AVE
APT 379
Chico, Ca 95926
Gerard Van der Leun
The scientists are in terror
Comments on this entry are closed.
O yea! Love the blues,,,,,,,takes me places I could never reach otherwise!.
Good stuff
DW
Pursued by a Genderqueer Bear looking suspiciously like Andrew Sullivan.
Got fweedom fries?
Ah, BB King, he left us before we were ready. Obviously, the others are great guitarists, but BB was the master. In the intro, the sweet melody that he plays against those bluesy chord changes is so poignant, and so typical of his style.
In 1976 I was working for a gent who ran a recording studio and did live sound. He got the gig for the sound system for a BB King concert, and a couple of us went along as roadies, more or less. He didn’t have a separate board for the stage mix, so he was mixing for the monitors at the main desk position. Mr. King’s plane was late and they arrived for the show about 30 minutes after start time, so no sound check. We did everything on the fly and the stage mix was problematic. I kept running between the stage and main desk offering updates. One time, Mr. King put his arm around my shoulders and said: “Son, I can’t hear Lucille. Can you do something about that?” I said “Yes, sir” and ran back to the main desk and Sammy turned up Lucille in the monitors. My next trip to the stage he gave me a great big smile. That is one of the musical high lights of my life.
Fantastic performance. Thank you Gerard.
At 4:53, is that guy in the background frame next to the beautiful girl, Phil Spector? Just curious.
Spector? Looks more like Ron Woods to me.
Outstanding. Just outstanding.
yep, Ronnie Wood at 4:53.