Sgt. 1st Class Lance Amsden, platoon sergeant for the 1st Platoon, Company C, 1st Battalion, 501st Infantry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team (Airborne), 25th Infantry Division, watches as CH-47 Chinook Helicopters circle above during a dust storm at Forward Operating Base Kushamond, Afghanistan, July 17, during preparation for an air-assault mission. — Army Flickr Stream
(This posting has appeared several times on this blog, only to update the year.)
On this Veteran’s Day, in honor of those who served and died, I share this song written and recorded by Tom Russell, which was also recorded by Johnny Cash.
One of the blogs I follow is So Far From Heaven. Old Jules writes about his old running buddy, Phil:
“I hadn’t thought about my old running buddy, Phil, for a while. That last blog entry got me chewing on thoughts of him. I’ll tell you a bit more about him.
Phil went to the Marine Corps as the result of being a 17-year-old driving from Temple, Texas, to Austin with a case of beer in the car. A Williamson County Sheriff’s Deputy stopped him on a tail light violation, asked for his driver’s license, and saw the case of beer. Old Phil, being a clever youth, gave the officer a Texas Drivers License with an altered date of birth so’s to keep from being arrested as a minor in possession of alcoholic beverages.”
Veteran’s Day
Well I used to hang out down at the VFW hall And stare at the photographs up on the wall Of the neighborhood boys that died in the wars we’ve been through And the hand lettered sign that said remember Jimmy McGrew Well Jimmy went to Nam back in 1965 But there’s a lot of men here that think Jimmy McGrew’s still alive Though they carved his name on a stone in Washington DC His brother said that stone don’t prove a thing to me
It’s veteran’s day and the skies are gray Leave the uniforms home cause there ain’t gonna be a parade But we’ll fill up a glass for the ones that didn’t make it through And leave a light in the window tonight for Jimmy McGrew
Well I used to hang out down at the VFW hall And stare at the photographs up on the wall Of the neighborhood boys that died in the wars we’ve been through And the hand lettered sign that said remember Jimmy McGrew Well Jimmy went to Nam back in 1965 But there’s a lot of men here that think Jimmy McGrew’s still alive Though they carved his name on a stone in Washington DC His brother said that stone don’t prove a thing to me
It’s veteran’s day and the skies are gray Leave the uniforms home cause there ain’t gonna be a parade But we’ll fill up a glass for the ones that didn’t make it through And leave a light in the window tonight for Jimmy McGrew
“Now I’ve been out in the desert, just doin’ my time Searchin’ through the dust, lookin’ for a sign If there’s a light up ahead, well brother I don’t know But I got this fever burnin’ in my soul”
— from Further On (Up The Road) by Bruce Springteen
White-crowned Sparrow In The Morning Sun — Image by kenne
Little Sparrow
[Chorus] Little sparrow, little sparrow Precious fragile little thing Little sparrow, little sparrow Flies so high and feels no pain
[Verse 1] All ye maidens, heed my warning Never trust the hearts of men They will crush you like a sparrow Leaving you to never mend They will vow to always love you Swear no love but yours will do Then they’ll leave you for another Break your little heart in two
[Chorus] Little sparrow, little sparrow Precious fragile little thing Little sparrow, little sparrow Flies so high and feels no pain
[Verse 2] If I were a little sparrow Over these mountains I would fly I would find him, I would find him Look into his lying eyes I would flutter all around him On my little sparrow wings I would ask him, I would ask him Why he let me love in vain I am not a little sparrow I am just the broken dream Of a cold false-hearted lover And his evil cunning scheme
Variegated Meadowhawk Dragonfly In Flight — Image by kenne
“Come fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away If you can use some exotic booze, there’s a bar in far Bombay Come on and fly with me, let’s fly, let’s fly away”
Love Birds (Two Ravens On An Olive Tree Limb) — Image by kenne
Like a bird on the wire Like a drunk in a midnight choir I have tried in my way to be free Like a worm on a hook Like a knight from some old fashioned book I have saved all my ribbons for thee
Like a circle in a spiral Like a wheel within a wheel Never ending or beginning On an ever-spinning wheel Like a snowball down a mountain Or a carnival balloon Like a carousel that’s turning Running rings around the moon Like a clock whose hands are sweeping Past the minutes on it’s face And the world is like an apple Whirling silently in space Like the circles that you find In the windmills of your mind
When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical. And all the birds in the trees, well they’d be singing so happily, joyfully, playfully watching me. But then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible, logical, responsible, practical. And they showed me a world where I could be so dependable, clinical, intellectual, cynical.
There are times when all the world’s asleep, the questions run too deep for such a simple man. Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned I know it sounds absurd but please tell me who I am.
Now watch what you say or they’ll be calling you a radical, liberal, fanatical, criminal. Won’t you sign up your name, we’d like to feel you’re acceptable, respectable, presentable, a vegetable!
At night, when all the world’s asleep, the questions run so deep for such a simple man. Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned I know it sounds absurd but please tell me who I am.
“. . . for such a simple man.” As a young man, I loved the music of Supertramp and the album, “Breakfast In America.” (1979) The album was released about twenty years after the photo on the left was captured. Several decades later, I still love the music, but more importantly, the words, such as those in “The Logical Song.”
The questions continue to run deep, but I’m no longer shackled by being so dependable, clinical, intellectual and cynical. Now I’m free to be more radical, liberal, fanatical and even criminal. In a way, the song is a story of innocence and idealism lost — it’s time to regain it!
White Winged Dove At Patio Feeder — Image by kenne
Well I hear you in the morning And I hear you at nightfall Sometimes to be near you Is to be unable to feel you, my love I’m a few years older than you (I’m a few years older than you) my love
Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she’s singing Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh Just like the white winged dove Sings a song, sounds like she’s singing Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh
Make like a Mister Milquetoast and you’ll get shut out, Make like a Mister Meek and you’ll get cut out, Make like a little lamb, and wham, you’re shorn, I tell ya, chum, it’s time to come blow your horn.
— from Come Blow Your Horn by Sammy Cahn Jimmy Van Heusen
Ask me how does a man feel When he’s got the blues And I’d say Misused abused down-hearted and blue Know the reason I know this Is cause the blues is all I was left with
— from Ask Me ’Bout Nothin’ (but the Blues) by Boz Scaggs
Yesterday the Arizona Daily Star published an article titled “31 songs that have the word ‘Tucson’ in them.” Of course, it go my attention so I read the article figuring that one of my favorite singer-songwriters would be included in the 31 songs, Tom Russell, who penned The Ballad of Edward Abbey — he was not. I guess the list was not intended to be comprehensive.
It was in the town of Tucson in Nineteen Eighty-Three A man named Edward Abbey come a walking up to me He pulled his cigar from his mouth, said, «I smell lawyers here» The politician, running-dogs, they crawled away in fear Singing do-ra-do Singing do-ra-day Ed walked across the desert at least a thousand times He spoke with javelina, slept ‘neath piñon pine And if he saw a billboard there, he’d chop that bastard down Said, if a man can’t piss in his own front yard, he’d never keep close to town Singing do-ra-do Singing do-ra-day Lord, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today Ed had a taste for women, in fact he married quite a few He said, «I’d fall in love, boys, but I’m only passing through You know I like ’em all, boys, and some more than the rest I’ve tried my hand at monogamy, now I’m off to save the west Singing do-ra-do Singing do-ra-day Ed died one day at sundown in his Tucson riding shack They wrapped him in a sleeping bag and drove him way out back Beneath the wild saguaro, the coyotes chewed his bones And on a hidden marker, was ‘No Comment’, carved in stone Singing do-ra-do Singing do-ra-day Yeah, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today Now I’m living in the desert, but the town is a-closing in Those cracker box developments, Ed would call a sin We stole this land from the Mexican and now we’ll sell it back And they’ll live like mortgage prisoners in those goddamn housing tracts Tell me, who votes for the mountain lion, tell me, who votes for the fox Who votes for the spotted owl who hides there in the rocks I wish that Ed would come again with a chainsaw in his hand And carve all up those housing tracts and take on back the land Singing do-ra-do Singing do-ra-day Yeah, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today
Sgt. 1st Class Lance Amsden, platoon sergeant for the 1st Platoon, Company C, 1st Battalion, 501st Infantry Regiment, 4th Brigade Combat Team (Airborne), 25th Infantry Division, watches as CH-47 Chinook Helicopters circle above during a dust storm at Forward Operating Base Kushamond, Afghanistan, July 17, during preparation for an air-assault mission. — Army Flickr Stream
On this Veteran’s Day, in honor of those who served and died, I share this song written and recorded by Tom Russell, which was also recorded by Johnny Cash.
One of the blogs I follow is So Far From Heaven. Old Jules writes about his old running buddy, Phil:
“I hadn’t thought about my old running buddy, Phil, for a while. That last blog entry got me chewing on thoughts of him. I’ll tell you a bit more about him.
Phil went to the Marine Corps as the result of being a 17-year-old driving from Temple, Texas, to Austin with a case of beer in the car. A Williamson County Sheriff’s Deputy stopped him on a tail light violation, asked for his driver’s license, and saw the case of beer. Old Phil, being a clever youth, gave the officer a Texas Drivers License with an altered date of birth so’s to keep from being arrested as a minor in possession of alcoholic beverages.”
Veteran’s Day
Well I used to hang out down at the VFW hall And stare at the photographs up on the wall Of the neighborhood boys that died in the wars we’ve been through And the hand lettered sign that said remember Jimmy McGrew Well Jimmy went to Nam back in 1965 But there’s a lot of men here that think Jimmy McGrew’s still alive Though they carved his name on a stone in Washington DC His brother said that stone don’t prove a thing to me
It’s veteran’s day and the skies are gray Leave the uniforms home cause there ain’t gonna be a parade But we’ll fill up a glass for the ones that didn’t make it through And leave a light in the window tonight for Jimmy McGrew
Well I used to hang out down at the VFW hall And stare at the photographs up on the wall Of the neighborhood boys that died in the wars we’ve been through And the hand lettered sign that said remember Jimmy McGrew Well Jimmy went to Nam back in 1965 But there’s a lot of men here that think Jimmy McGrew’s still alive Though they carved his name on a stone in Washington DC His brother said that stone don’t prove a thing to me
It’s veteran’s day and the skies are gray Leave the uniforms home cause there ain’t gonna be a parade But we’ll fill up a glass for the ones that didn’t make it through And leave a light in the window tonight for Jimmy McGrew
