All morning, while I was out, I kept running into dogs. All kinds of dogs. Well trained ones, wild ones, ones that wanted to bite my face off, sweet fluffy dogs, big dogs that make you think that someone left the saddle at home, and to everyone of them I said "Hey, buddy, how are you doing today". Every single one of them. "Hey buddy". That is my way. Then, as I was heading home I ran into a great little dog - somewhere around 15 pounds, he had kind of an overgrown Chihuahua look to him - bug eyes, short fur, but he was very friendly. Of course I said "Hey, buddy!" as I petted him - he was adorable. His owner looked at me and said "You know, his name _is_ Buddy." Well, says I, "I have been calling every dog I met today that name and finally I got it right!" On that note I took my leave of socializing with humans and canines, came home, mowed the lawn, sawed some wood and wrote this story.
The sky as I was mowing:
That really happened. Right on my street. As I was mowing.
11 comments:
I never cared for Coltrane. A friend described his music as the sound of someone stepping on a goose. That's it!! For what it's worth, I'm listening to the video at the link you posted. Your musical recommendations are worth following. I realize my comments on Coltrane are heresy, and I'm prepared to accept the repercussions of my transgressions.
With the brief break in the rain, I had to mow today, too. Apparently, it had rained some by the time I got to it, so the grass was a bit wet when I began, and in the middle of it all, it rained for about five minutes. But, after nearly a week of steady rain, I had to keep going.
I recall one year that I mowed only two times after July 4th, because of the drought. Not this year. Everything is healthy and green. Rain can be a spoiler, but it's drinking water down the road, so I try not to complain about it. And a couple of years back, when our forests were on fire, we were desperate for it. That was a wild time. Sometimes you couldn't see 100 yds because the smoke was so thick. Animals were running away from the fire. That was the first time we saw a bear in our yard. The rain finally saved us.
We don't have buskers in our neck of the woods. The closest thing we have is the drum circle in Asheville. I'll pass.
Don't get me started on drum circles. Drumming is music, not the sound of 100 stoners trying to out-flam one another.
I remember a few years ago - probably 8 or 9, when the Great Dismal Swamp caught fire. The smoke lingered here for a month. Every day I would go out and the whole neighborhood smelled like burning peat. I was glad when the rain put that one out.
Drought bad. Flash floods bad. Moderation in all things rainfall related, good!
As for Coltrane, I grew up listening to him in the early '60s. Felix Grant played nothing but jazz on WMAL, radio 63, and every time Coltrane released a new record Felix played it. Records like Blue Train are superb examples of good playing by excellent musicians, and Coltrane directed that energy into some works that will withstand the test of time.
You triggered a memory. Years ago some kids on my street nicknamed me Buddy. They all moved on and that's all I remember about them.
When I worked the door at a California club in the early 70's Coltrane was one of the gods. He had already passed on and I was just learning how to appreciate jazz. I had a raft of jazz men to listen to before I had an inkling of who he was and what he was doing. One way of looking at him is to listen to his wife, Alice Coltrane. Something about her playing fits well with your photo, at least to me.
I was going to say something about how, for the longest time, it has seemed to me like some people revere John Coltrane's work as if he were some sort of deity but the evidence for that has already been laid down sufficiently. I thought maybe it was just a Philly thing. Apparently not.
Anyway, I went through a Coltrane phase back in the day. Giant Steps. A Love Supreme. Ascension. Meditations. Favorite Things. A bit more than that, actually.
For some reason his playing with Miles Davis never grabbed me. I sort of tuned him out when it was his turn. Maybe it would be fair to say I found his vehemence (or maybe a better word would be insistence) a bit off-putting.
A friend gave me the set of his complete Impulse! studio recordings. I've had it for years and have tried close to a dozen times but I find it completely unlistenable. I even tried jumping around to random tracks in desperation. Zip.
But I try my level best to be fair in my judgment and it's probably closer to the truth to say the difference isn't him . . . it's me. He was, after all, a genius.
But I try my level best to be fair in my judgment and it's probably closer to the truth to say the difference isn't him . . . it's me.
I'm not a huge Dave Matthews Band fan, but I've listened to some. I said the same thing about his horn player, LeRoi Moore. I just didn't get him. When his solos start, I go get a sandwich. I hear Jeff Coffin is with him now.
Coffin I get. His work with Bela Fleck was superb. He's played on a lot on Charlie Peacock's projects over the years, so I'm glad he's being rewarded with some fame after playing his guts out in relative obscurity.
LOOK A' DAT!
Two, two, two skies in one!
Two types blueness, two types fun.
Sometimes clouds get in the ways,
Other times dey splays dem rays!
Ricpic, you are a genius. A master wordsmith. A poet, and you know it, etc.
Yeah, some genius. Tell that to my parole officer.
Just funnin'.
You know I'll always go your bail, so there is that.
Neat photo.
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