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
I don’t know, why I don’t Put it out baby We kiss and the flames Just get higher But yeah I know When I hold onto you baby I’m all tangled up in barbed wire I get burned, I don’t learn I’ll be back, give it time Yeah, I know it sounds crazy But guess I like playing with fire
Tom Russell has great respect for Warren Zevon’s work, but probably none more than “Carmelita,” which he combines with Charles Bukowski’s, “Crucifix In A Deathhand,” on his Modern Art CD. By putting the two together, Russell demonstrates his appreciation and understanding of Bukowski’s words and the lyrics of Warren Zevon. It just so happens that “Crucifix In A Deathhand” is my favorite Bukowski poem.
Crucifix In a Death Hand
yes, they begin out in a willow, I think the starch mountains begin out in the willow and keep right on going without regard for pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like an old woman with a bad memory and a shopping basket. we are in a basin. that is the idea. down in the sand and the alleys, this land punched-in, cuffed-out, divided, held like a crucifix in a deathhand, this land bought, resold, bought again and sold again, the wars long over, the Spaniards all the way back in Spain down in the thimble again, and now real estaters, subdividers, landlords, freeway engineers arguing. this is their land and I walk on it, live on it a little while near Hollywood here I see young men in rooms listening to glazed recordings and I think too of old men sick of music sick of everything, and death like suicide I think is sometimes voluntary, and to get your hold on the land here it is best to return to the Grand Central Market, see the old Mexican women, the poor . . . I am sure you have seen these same women many years before arguing with the same young Japanese clerks witty, knowledgeable and golden among their soaring store of oranges, apples avocados, tomatoes, cucumbers – and you know how these look, they do look good as if you could eat them all light a cigar and smoke away the bad world. then it’s best to go back to the bars, the same bars wooden, stale, merciless, green with the young policeman walking through scared and looking for trouble, and the beer is still bad it has an edge that already mixes with vomit and decay, and you’ve got to be strong in the shadows to ignore it, to ignore the poor and to ignore yourself and the shopping bag between your legs down there feeling good with its avocados and oranges and fresh fish and wine bottles, who needs a Fort Lauderdale winter? 25 years ago there used to be a whore there with a film over one eye, who was too fat and made little silver bells out of cigarette tinfoil. the sun seemed warmer then although this was probably not true, and you take your shopping bag outside and walk along the street and the green beer hangs there just above your stomach like a short and shameful shawl, and you look around and no longer see any old men.
– – Charles Bukowski (Source: Oldpoetry.com)
There’s a video on YouTube of Russell in a live performance talking and singing about Charles Bukowski, Warren Zevon, and Dave Van Ronk that will give you a better feel for this morning distraction.
Singer-songwriter Mac Davis Dead at 78 — Source: soundslikenashville.com
A lot of people who love music are mounding the death of Mac Davis, who died after heart surgery on September 29th. Known for writing songs for artists like Elvis Presley and Glen Campbell and also enjoyed a successful career of his own, releasing a number of crossover hits including “Baby, Don’t Get Hooked on Me” and “Stop and Smell the Roses.” Two of my favorite are “Born In the Gaitto” and “It’s Hard To Be Humble.”
The Genius Of The Crowd – Poem by Charles Bukowski
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day
and the best at murder are those who preach against it and the best at hate are those who preach love and the best at war finally are those who preach peace
those who preach god, need god those who preach peace do not have peace those who preach peace do not have love
beware the preachers beware the knowers beware those who are always reading books beware those who either detest poverty or are proud of it beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone beware the average man the average woman beware their love, their love is average seeks average
but there is genius in their hatred there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you to kill anybody not wanting solitude not understanding solitude they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own not being able to create art they will not understand art they will consider their failure as creators only as a failure of the world not being able to love fully they will believe your love incomplete and then they will hate you and their hatred will be perfect
like a shining diamond like a knife like a mountain like a tiger like hemlock
This morning I learned of the passing of one of North America’s greatest poets, novelists, and singer/songwriters of our time. Like many others who listen to public radio, it was just a few days ago I was listening to KCRW’s Chris Douridas interview Cohen after the release of his latest album, “You Want It Darker.” At 82, he had not been in the best of health, but such news always carries an element of surprise. Click here to listen to the Chris Douridas.
Panoramic Image from the Mountain Meadow Below Thimble Peak — Images by kenne
As Sabino Canyon Volunteer Naturalists (SCVN) we spend a lot of time in the Canyon and the Santa Catalina Mountains leading children and adults on outdoor activities. One of the iconic images of the Canyon is Thimble Peak. It can be seen from the Sabino Canyon Recreational Area Center, the tram ride up through the Canyon, Bear Canyon and many of the area’s hiking trails.
One very popular trail is Blackett’s Ridge trail located between Sabino Canyon and Bear Canyon. This difficult hiking trail ends about a mile from Thimble Peak, separated by a deep ravine — “So close, yet so far,” is the thought most people have when reaching the end of the Blackett’s Ridge trail. Serious rock climbers might venture on, but most adventurous hikers look for other options for hiking to this majestic pinnacle.
One option is to hike, or take the tram, up through Sabino Canyon, then taking the Sabino Canyon trail to the East Fork trail, looping around to the Bear Canyon trail.
Another option is to take the Bear Canyon trail out of the Sabino Canyon Recreational Area up through Bear Canyon passed Seven Falls.
A third option is the one that five SCVN members (Phil Bentley, Alexa Bieberstein, Tim Ralph, Ed Rawl and Kenne Turner)decided to do when learning that the elementary school class coming to the Canyon on November 7th had been cancelled.
Wash Leading Out Of The Gordon Hirabayashi Recreation Site (Historical WWII Prison Camp)
This option involved driving the Catalina Highway to the Gordon Hirabayashi Campgrounds, where under a beautiful blue-sky morning, we began the twelve-mile hike in cool temperatures, with a forecast of sunny warm temperatures in the afternoon — windy with gusts of 40 mph.
Tim, Ed, Alexa and Phil At The Sycamore Reservoir Trail Saddle (Part of the Arizona Trail)
The Arizona Trail, which runs from Mexico to Utah goes through the area making use of many existing trails in the Santa Catalina Mountains. As predicted, the winds were gusty.
Phil, Alexa & Tim
This sign at the saddle on the Sycamore Reservoir trail is a common site for those hiking to the Sycamore dam. On our way to Thimble Peak, we stopped at the dam for a break before continuing on to the Bear Canyon trail.
The Peak Is In Sight! (Phil, Alexa, Ed and Tim)
Even with the very windy conditions, it didn’t take long before we began shading layers of clothing.
Photo Taking Time (Phil and Alexa)
This scene is located where the Bear Canyon trail goes left down into the canyon to Seven Falls. After a few photos, we headed off to the right through a beautiful mountain meadow toward the trail that would take us to Thimble Peak.
Thimble Peak
We were now only a few hundred yards from the pinnacle. You can click here to see 44 images on my Flickr account of our hike in a full-frame slideshow.
In addition to many photos, I managed to take several video clips, which I have edited into a video posted on YouTube and inserted below. The video contains a special treat with naturalist Phil Bentley singing America the Beautiful overlooking the Tucson valley from the base of Thimble Peak pinnacle.
At The Base of Thimble Peak Overlooking the Tucson Valley (Ed, Phil, Alexa and Tim)
Alexa Climbing The Pinnacle (Thimble Peak)
A Thimble Full Of Life
All one needs
in life is a thimble full of this and that to experience life.
We determine
what makes up
THIS, what makes up
THAT.
Last night I spent over three hours watching the documentary, “History of The Eagles.” I love every minute of it!
The documentary, which had its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival last January, is in two parts and is currently on Showtime and can be purchased on DVD, or streamed — there are so many options in today’s digital would.
Like most rock ‘n roll bands, much of their creativity comes from the battles with their demons, which are the vital spirits of creative imagination. For me their music takes the listener to an extrasensory event that is seeking Lorca’s “Duende,” ” . . a momentary burst of inspiration, the blush of all that is alive, all that the performer is creating at a certain moment.” This is what makes music intoxicating.
So, “What’s with the rusty old tractor?” you ask.
One of the things that stood out the most in the Eagles documentary was something Don Henley said near the end, when he referenced a Neil Young quote about quitting before you rust. The reference was about music, or was it?
Most of us who have lived with the music of the Eagles are beginning to feel old and rusty, but Henley put a new perspective on it:
“I don’t see rust as a bad thing. I have an old 1962 John Deere tractor that’s covered in rust, but it runs like a top. You know the inner workings are just fine. To me, that rust symbolizes all the work done and all the experiences gained. From where I sit, rust looks pretty good.”
Last thing I remember, I was Running for the door I had to find the passage back To the place I was before “Relax, ” said the night man, “We are programmed to receive. You can check-out any time you like, But you can never leave! “
— from the Eagles, “Hotel California”
kenne
Glenn Fry and Don Henley of The Eagles — Sam Jones/Showtime
One of the best covers of an Eagles song is that of Tucson native, Linda Ronstadt – Desperado (Simple Dreams Tour – Atlanta 1977)
There’s a lipstick sunset Smeared across the august sky There’s a bitter-sweet perfume Hanging in the fields The creek is running high
And I left my lover waiting In the dawn somewhere to wonder why By the end of the day All her sweet dreams would fade To a lipstick sunset
Well, a radio was playing And that ol’ summer heat was on the rise I just had to get away Before some sad old song Brought tears to my eyes
And lord I couldn’t tell her That her love was only killing me By the end of the day All her sweet dreams would fade To a lipstick sunset
Well it’s pretty as a picture baby Red and blushing just before the night Maybe love’s like that for me Maybe I can only see As you take away the light
So hold me in the darkness We can dream about the cool twilight ‘Til the end of the day I can make my getaway To a lipstick sunset
Til the end of the day I can make my getaway To a lipstick sunset
There will come another day Then I’ll make my getaway To a lipstick sunset
— John Hiatt
Rain at Nightfall — Image by kenne
Raining at nightfall
is a red lipstick sunset
followed by storms.
One year ago today, our very good friend, Mean Gene Kelton died in an auto accident. I first met Gene at a Houston Blues Society (HBS) board meeting we were attending to explore how a group we were forming, Friends of the Blues — Montgomery County, might work with HBS. The focus of our group was an educational series on the Blues, which would be offered through the continuing education department at Montgomery College. Gene expressed an interest in being a part of our new project, and for the next year he and Joni would drive from Baytown to The Woodlands once a week — to say the least, we were impressed and appreciative of their involvement. That kind of support and commitment says more than words as to the kind of man Mean Gene Kelton was.
Over the past decade I had plenty of opportunity to photograph Gene, and in recent years to also video some of his gigs. (See links below.) As fate would have it, Joy and I were in Houston over the holidays last year and were planning on being at his New Years day matinée at Rowdy Bucks in Crosby, Texas, which we had also attended two-years earlier. The video on this post contains clips from the events that followed Gene’s tragic death.
Charles Bukowski — Grunge Art by kenne
Leonard Cohen — Image source: balkanrock.com
Panoramic Image from the Mountain Meadow Below Thimble Peak — Images by kenne
Wash Leading Out Of The Gordon Hirabayashi Recreation Site (Historical WWII Prison Camp)
Tim, Ed, Alexa and Phil At The Sycamore Reservoir Trail Saddle (Part of the Arizona Trail)
Phil, Alexa & Tim
The Peak Is In Sight! (Phil, Alexa, Ed and Tim)
Photo Taking Time (Phil and Alexa)
Thimble Peak
At The Base of Thimble Peak Overlooking the Tucson Valley (Ed, Phil, Alexa and Tim)
Alexa Climbing The Pinnacle (Thimble Peak)
Old Rusty Tractor — Image by kenne
Glenn Fry and Don Henley of The Eagles — Sam Jones/Showtime
“Lipstick Sunset” Image by kenne
Texas Live Music — Image by kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 