As performed:
As seen in the mind’s eye:
With a detour to Ted’s place for burgers and brew out in his barn:
And if anyone is telling me we are not going to be doing these again, well sir, I beg to differ.
As performed:
As seen in the mind’s eye:
With a detour to Ted’s place for burgers and brew out in his barn:
And if anyone is telling me we are not going to be doing these again, well sir, I beg to differ.
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Mailing Address for the Blue Planet
Your Say
My Back Pages
Search American Digest’s Back Pages
Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
reach my hands and play with pebbles of
destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
The Vault
Take It Where You Find It
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
Comments on this entry are closed.
Well, gas is cheap right now and the roads are empty…
Attended a function down at a Rod & Gun Club outside of Harrisburg, PA @ 2010 where Uncle Ted gave a political speech for about an hour, gave a bow hunting demo and then gave all 200 of us a meet and greet with a handshake and autograph pic. Great dude.
Got tickets for a Black Crowes concert at the end July in Western NY, hopefully it’ll happen but the bastards are cancelling everything. Got us in a goddamn stranglehold.
Equally atrocious on an acoustic, see here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyNYzcXAPf4
Uncle Ted’s doing pretty well for 70+ though, wot?
I used to know a gal who worked for Fred Bear back-in-the-day. She said he was the best boss she’d ever had and she was stupid to have quit.
Just a thought to add to this day. It is the anniversary of Harper Lee’s birth and I thought it would be good to post this from her . . .
“There’s no substitute for the love of language, for the beauty of an English sentence. There’s no substitute for struggling, if a struggle is needed, to make an English sentence as beautiful as it should be.” Thank you GV for helping to keep it alive in my life every day.
At a time when the walls feel like they are closing in, there’s no denying the palliative efffects of a dose of Uncle Ted. Thanks!
Sweaty Teddy is good live. Although sometimes the melodic original lead cannot be much improved upon.
Great Bob Seger! Wonderful keyboard. Harkens back to bicycle rides in Michigan’s Upper, across Big Mac from Mackinaw City. Rode in yesterday’s sunshine, spring a long time coming after snow in April 14.
I take the dogs out for a truck ride every Sunday. What I’ve been doing is using the Map app on my phone to go to a town nearby and having the app chart the way without using freeways. It’s been interesting. I know how to get to these places on the freeways, but haven’t driven the back roads. We all really enjoy it (although I learned one dog gets carsick on windy roads.)
Ghostsniper’s Fred Bear link; Guess when one has a certain number of years behind them good words/music resonates bringing back grand memories.
Listening I thought of Henry Baley, an Eskimo from Noatak I used to hunt with.
Riding behind him on a Polaris snowmachine getting my feet knocked off the running boards by foot tall hundred year old spruce trees on a high plateau right at the edge of the tree line (Most Eskimos, back in the day, figured snowmachine’s had two speeds, off and full throttle) and him stopping occasionally, walking a circle around, checking the tracks of the caribou we were following. Fifteen, twenty miles later, five caribou, seventy five or so yards off. My .308 FN, his .30-06 Springfield. dropped all five in their tracks. Him, field dressing them in far less time than it would take to tell (I learned his technique but never approached his speed.), two trips sledding them back to the pickup truck and a great addition to the winter’s supply of meat for both our families.
& that brought back memories of one time when Henry, his wife, Edna, me and my wife were down at Chitna dipnetting salmon. Climb down a two story cliff, brace you net in a back eddy, haul it out when a salmon bumps it. When day’s done, haul them up the cliff (20 or so salmon per person limit back then.) etc.
So! As we were spending a long day at the bottom of the cliff I collected some nice dry driftwood making a fire so we could have some tea and coffee. Remembering well the woodcraft I’d learned as a Boy Scout, I proceeded to slowly and carefully make a fuzz stick shaving a twig with my knife, leaving the curls of shavings attached to it all around. Edina asked me; “Whatschudoin’ ?”. I explained I was making a fuzz stick to get the fire started. She told me, “No, that ain’t the way to do it.”, taking a kleenex or a paper towel out of her pocket, putting it under the kindling & igniting it with her lighter, -with the dry kindling and the river wind, a roaring little fire in seconds, yep, everyone, including me, had a great laugh at my expense!
Thanks Ghost, thanks Ted!
The first time I saw Ted do Fred, heh, it was the electrified version and worth it’s weight but the one I posted here is far better. Just Ted. With a box guitar. Sitting at a camp fire. Doesn’t get more basic than that. When you strip away all the showbiz he is still a good guitar player and song writer. Personally though I don’t think I’d get along with him very well. He’d get on my nerve pretty quick.
The essential American soul is soft, ovine, libertine, and a suicide. It has melted in a puddle on the floor. Bummer.