Mrs. Kravitz I'm not, however...

I'm exiting the local Cracker Barrel after a gastronomical feast extraordinaire and find myself a few paces behind a wild pack of old geezers out on the town without their wives. I assumed they were a gang because they were dressed alike, crisply pressed khaki slacks, matching khaki jackets, golfing shirts and loafers and shuffling to one side when they walked.

As the north wind whipped up a whirling dervish of dried leaves, I overheard one of them say, "...she doesn't do anything with her hair and her car is a mess...what's up with that?"

Word Pops...I bet she lives for the day when you are out with your homeys sucking down some chicken livers at the Cracker Barrel.

<<>>

small sparrow
big puddle

isn't it just like us
to jump in over our heads?

Study in Circles

Moon Window in the Chapel

Butterfly for All Seasons

Clapper Happy

Bits & Pieces

vacancy?

going down

halo

Images from Penuel Ridge

place of peace

upward gaze

I Don't Think This is Normal

How the bloody hell did I get chocolate on my feet?

MY FEET?!?!

Song of Freedom

who got my freedom?
you got it?
you?
huh?
what about you?

no suh...I got it
I got my freedom
ain’t nobody gonna take it from me agin’

you can put me in a hole
drop me down a well
tie my hands and feet so tight they bleed
but you ain't never gonna take
my freedom agin’
cuz where it live you cain’t touch
it live right here
right here where i used to hold my babies

you best get outta my way cuz I’m a comin’
comin’ at you fast and strong with both hands
so fast you think you a chile agin’ been snatched up by
the collar and set butt down on a chair by your pappy

all a’ you...
all a’ you done laid your hands on me
you gonna know what it feel like
to have something put on you
witt out nobody askin’ do you want it

you better run cuz I’m a comin’
I’m a comin’ fast and strong
I got me a rope and a tall tree

i know i’ll answer to the Almighty for this,
but I’m a comin’
and ain’t nuttin’ gonna stop me
from takin' back everything
you took from me

do you hear me?

EVERTHING!

I’m a’ takin’ it back with both hands and
when I do
ain’t gonna be nothin’ left of you
but bones
bones hangin’ in the yard
all dried up like my soul’s been all this time

you ain’t never gonna lay claim on me ever again
ain't nuttin’ can stop me now,
stop me from claimin' what
i’s pose a’ be doin’

whatta we pose a’ be doin...us humans, us folk?
we pose a’ be killin’
an hurtin’
an cheatin?
or
we pose a’ be lovin’?

Good Book say Love One Another
don’t seem like we doin’ much uh dat these days
yeah...Love One Another

maybe I put down my rope
step away from dat tall tree
maybe I love you even though
you didn’t love me

maybe dat what I'm pose a’ be doin’
huh?

Yeah...

Monday Night

This one came out of nowhere...just fell out of the air into my soul. This is a spoken piece, so when you read it, imagine the voice in your head to be an old black woman who has smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day for 50 years and drank nothing but whiskey. Her voice is barely a whisper....got it? Now read it...

blow…
blow baby
‘cuz you can’t keep it in
blow baby blow from down low
where it moans and growls and grumbles

thems who’s got the blues
they knows it,
they knows where it lives
they knows you got to let it loose
‘cuz it don’t got no place else to go but out
let it loose
let it loose like Ella, like Billie, like Etta

and you don’t even know when it’s a comin’
a comin’ down a ridge so fast,
so blue, so fierce it’ll blow the
the needles off a tree
so high, so strong, so forever
it’ll peel the red off the leaves

you sittin’ there a thinkin’ you is safe, but you aint
you don’t know it’s a comin’
but thems that’s had the blues
they know
they can feel it comin’
feel it buildin' in their bones
shriekin' in their brain down to their soul
oh yeah, it’s a comin’

Train knew it, Bird knew it, Dizzie knew it too
well…all they really knowed was they had to,
had to put that piece to their mouth and cry
cry that blue note
wail it out the end of their horn
‘cuz if they didn’t…they’d a’ died

you got a blue note in you
yeah you do
it’s in there
you just gotta let it out
let it rip outta yo belly
like a wind roarin’ over the ridge
bendin’ those mighty spines back so far
they think they’s a gonna snap…but they don’t
they just bend
bend
bend to the blue note
the bitter blue note of woe

oh! what a note...let it blow
let it bend you back
you won’t break
but if you keep it in, whoa!
that’s a bitter blue note of a pill that’ll kill ya
kill ya dead

blow
blow baby
blow that blue note low
make it growl
make it moan
let it shriek out the end of your horn

blow

Dog Boo

Better than Prozac

What gives you the warm and fuzzies? Pinching a baby's cheek? Fuzzy baby ducks and kittens? For me it's dogs...pictures of dogs, movies about dogs, songs about dogs, random dog encounters on the street, in a park, on the road at a store or coffee shop...you name it, if there's a dog involved, I turn into a blathering idiot and I mean that in a good way. Don't even get me started with puppies. If it were humanly possible for me to have a litter of puppies...I would do it.

Imagine my absolute delight to have stumbled onto this blog:

Dog Blog

Almost 300 photographs of dogs on the street with some pretty witty commentary.

Woof!

Plane Crash Post Script

I'm really pissed off over the coverage of the small plane crash yesterday in NYC. Every headline and news report has read something to the effect of, "New York Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle and a passenger dies in tragic plane crash." Today, I saw that the "and a passenger" is now being referred to as "a flight instructor." Everyone is shocked, saddened and dismayed over the death of a baseball player, but what about the "passenger?" Isn't it shocking and sad and dismaying that this person was slammed into a highrise? Everyone is "so sad for Lidle's wife and child for their loss." What about the family of the "passenger?" Is their loss and grief less sad than that of the Lidle family?

I HATE that sports figures* receive elevated status just because they have a talent for playing a game. I wonder what talents the "passenger" possessed?

*This applies to other "celebrities" as well, but that's another rant.

What if the "passenger" were someone you loved? Wouldn't they deserve equal respect, not only as they walked through life, but when it came to an end?

Arghhhhhhhh.

This Way!

Miss Mocha, resident dog and tour guide at Penuel Ridge strikes a pose in the sunshine.

You Say It's Your Birthday?

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy...it has been a week for birthday celebrations...one of my very own, a 30th birthday weekend celebration in NashVegas for my longtime friend *Holly and well wishes for Melissa in Houston on Saturday.

The finale of my b'day celebration was an Indigo Girls concert at the Ryman Auditorium courtesy of yummy neighbors J & K. Until Tuesday night, I had only heard their music covered by other girl-duo bands, like Girls with Guitars. Very interesting people watching...especially when the lights went down. I have a couple of suggestions for my sisters out there:

1. When they dim the lights and the band starts playing...that's your cue to stop talking. I'm not really interested in hearing you tell your current girlfriend/date the when, where, how and which ex-girlfriend you were with when you heard this particular song the first time.

2. If you're bladder is that active, you may want to: a) drink less beer, b) consult a physician or c) both. Seriously girls, getting up to pee and announcing to EVERYONE in your row and the surrounding rows that you have to pee does not enhance my concert-going experience.

3. Cell phones...calling or text messaging your buddies who are at the same concert, but seated on the opposite side of the hall from you...get a clue...they know what song is being played and that it's your favorite. Screaming, "WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?" into your color-coordinated, jewel encrusted cell phone does not enhance my concert-going experience. Here's an idea, why don't the two of you hook up in the bathroom during one of your 20 pee breaks and compare notes?

4. Knowing every word, to every song being played is awesome. Singing note for note, word for word in the right place when the band gives you the cue ROCKS. This audience ROCKED on all counts.

5. Songwriting and musicianship that makes me laugh, jump up and dance, cry, clap my hands and think is about as perfect as my momma's lemon meringue pie...delicious!

Thanks J & K...for the initiation...it was D-I-V-I-N-E!

*Holly's 30th b'day celebration in NashVegas deserves it's own blog with photos, so check back for a future posting...suffice it to say there was indeed a real life Tennessee Hillbilly and Elvis sighting, all in the same weekend!!!!!

The Voice of Being

This prayer was gifted to me in July, 2005 as I was preparing to leave Texas to pursue my dream of writing. It was written by hand, on hand-made paper, tied to tablets and pencils in every color of the rainbow with tangles of brilliant ribbon. It's significance is greater today than the day they put it into my hands...thank you Gambill family:

It is I who must begin...

Once I begin, once I try...

here and now,

right where I am,

not excusing myself

by saying that things

would be easier elsewhere,

without grand speeches and

ostentatious gestures,

but all the more persistently

--to live in harmony

with the "Voice of Being" as I

understand it within myself

--as soon as I begin that,

I suddenly discover,

to my surprise, that

I am neither the only one,

nor the first,

nor the most important one

to have set out

upon that road...

Vaclav Havel

Life Prayers from Around the World

Hampster Wheel

A single spotlight illuminates a shiny cylindrical object in the middle of the stage
Smarmy voice booms over the PA system to an empty theatre,
"Emotions, meet Mr. Hampster Wheel!"

Tiny voice from the back of the theatre says in high shreaky voice,
"We've met and what the hell are you doing here? I thought I kicked your ass the last time around."

Mr. Hampster Wheel responds smugly, "Squeak." as it begins to slowly spin.