I wish to extend a holiday greeting to the vast and various readership out there! I did not have that perfect opportunity to get to my wooded sanctuary and write away! though I will, and after today and next week and as we move closer and closer to Christmas--the most wonderful time of the year, indeed--I will be giving more and more time to our shared, blogged, bond.
In that mean time, get out, be safe, see your family--tell your loved ones that you love them, and then show them--party with friends, laugh, shop (responsibly), and celebrate that its true...it's a wonderful life.
I will be happy to chronicle my Thanksgiving adventure with MA and Farnsworth and the fam, and soon get back to my promise: the journey to Yankee Stadium, and back!
peace to you all! real, warm, peace...
Mateo
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
They Say It Happens To Every Guy At Some Point
I suppose it happens to women to, right? yes, of course, I am talking about writer's block. to what did you think I was referring?
I can't say with certainty that I have writer's block though I am at a bit of a standstill...
Though I still (though this time, sitting) contend that for a blog to be good, relevant, prolific, important, or even hint at any one of those descriptors, a blog has to be nothing if not consistent.
And that had been my greatest challenge thus far in this blogging endeavor. Perhaps it isn't even all that challenging, I have just failed ot update with the regularity everyone seeks. (which must also be the reason that even in a strained economy, the prune industry thrives. okay, now I am being parenthetically silly).
What is a challenge is to be consistent while being interesting. Maybe even interesting isn't the be-all-end-all. The death sentence for a blog or any written piece, or perhaps anything period, is to avoid the void of non-interest. I'd say a writer cannot be boring, though if boring is the only thing from which to escape, anyone could write--unless you are a middle schooler where your world is boring. At least, your vocabulary would be greatly limited to the word boring until you reach around the middle of your 9th grade year.
Note I haven't declared that this blog, or any blog, has t be or even can be consistently good, it just needs to be consistent. Consitently updated, fed, cared for, loved, talked to...you know, like a plant! Or even better, like a friendship.
And so, the forecast is pleasant for future blog pieces. I have an idea! Actually, I have several ideas--more than several. It's discipline I lack! Discipline, time, and a high speed internet connection are what's really missing in my bloggist life. I am not missing inspiration, it is all around. There is beautiful music everywhere! I am listening to Radio Paradise as I write today, and I guarantee that 'beautiful' is the word to describe the feelings and emotions that well up and gush forth from the most intelligent repitiore of eclectic sounds this morning--even with a hint of The Rolling Stones (Waiting On a Friend) all the way to Simon and Garfunkel (Bridge Over Troubled Water)! RP is typically much more ecletci than those two, but they'e just nice!
I am currently in the middle of, or at the beginning of, rather, 10 books. I have to do better at this, and I am narrowing on down. I have a spiritual classic, Reaching Out by Henri Nouwen, that I am determined to finish by Thanksgiving Day. The book is thick, and I do not mean in the sense of length. Though there is a great peace about it.
And I am engrossed in Born Standing Up, the autobiography--or biography of someone he once knew to hear the author tell it--of Steve Martin. I would have never suspected that 'The Jerk" could write with such emotion and eloquence. I should have, but I didn't. I have been inspired by Steve for, well, most of my life. I saw the aforementioned The Jerk at a very young age, and not a few times, with my parents and my aunt and cousins (the dearest people in my life then, and now. Now, the list is just a little bigger). Martin is a genius, not just of comedy, of art. Yes, Steve Martin is an artistic genius! I said it! I find him to be a bit of a kindred spirit. I hope to be, at least. Not only have I always appreciated his understated sense of comic time...ing, and really, everything about his canon of work, I am starting to embrace my inner--and outer--artist. Life is being better balanced as I do this. I am a guitarist, a lover, a student, a teacher of the instrument. And so, I embrace it. If I want to listen to Coltrane, I listen. If I want to work on my sight-reading for piano, I work. If I feel like playing guitar, I play. I little Gumpian in this sense, perhaps.
Though embracing the inner and outer artist is about letting yourself be inspired, and then letting your self inspire others through your art. Being an artist is about seeking beauty and sharing it. These are but two qualities that I feel an artist cultivates. There are so many more. I look forward to the journey, and I believe the search will uncover some creative gold-mines: both mine and the gold in others.
There is great beauty in the trees and on the ground through yesterday's leaves--tomorrow's mulch. The air bites with crisp, though loving, teeth. A love bite! People are starting to act like they know what time of year it is. And just what time of year is it? You tell me. Really. Tell me.
While this latest blog piece has contained its fair share of stream-of-consiousness style wander-rambling, it was born out of a newly rediscovered condition of wonderment, the practice of the blissful. Inspired by beauty. Blog by Matt.
For next time, I will practice a device that successful writers practice: ergonomic use of material. For example, I have noticed that many of the better preachers and writers out there will present a particular sermon or article or paper in a number of mediums and forums over a period of time. This is not 're-using', 're-cycling', and by no means is it being lazy--not coming up with something 'new' or 'fresh'. It is the wise, methodical, responsible practice of thematic development. So, for next time, I will do just that. You dear readers will get, at least the beginning of--the chronicling of our journey to New York City--the pilgrimage to baseball's high cathedral: Yankee Stadium. It's fresh a relevant, and modern, chic, important--all that good stuff--for the blog. And at the same time, it is something I have needed to do for some while! I can then be a good little travel writer! And if that isn't responsible reuse, I don't knwo what is!
And so, until we meet again, may your palette by filled with inspired beauty in a way you have never known!
standstill averted!
au revoir~
I can't say with certainty that I have writer's block though I am at a bit of a standstill...
Though I still (though this time, sitting) contend that for a blog to be good, relevant, prolific, important, or even hint at any one of those descriptors, a blog has to be nothing if not consistent.
And that had been my greatest challenge thus far in this blogging endeavor. Perhaps it isn't even all that challenging, I have just failed ot update with the regularity everyone seeks. (which must also be the reason that even in a strained economy, the prune industry thrives. okay, now I am being parenthetically silly).
What is a challenge is to be consistent while being interesting. Maybe even interesting isn't the be-all-end-all. The death sentence for a blog or any written piece, or perhaps anything period, is to avoid the void of non-interest. I'd say a writer cannot be boring, though if boring is the only thing from which to escape, anyone could write--unless you are a middle schooler where your world is boring. At least, your vocabulary would be greatly limited to the word boring until you reach around the middle of your 9th grade year.
Note I haven't declared that this blog, or any blog, has t be or even can be consistently good, it just needs to be consistent. Consitently updated, fed, cared for, loved, talked to...you know, like a plant! Or even better, like a friendship.
And so, the forecast is pleasant for future blog pieces. I have an idea! Actually, I have several ideas--more than several. It's discipline I lack! Discipline, time, and a high speed internet connection are what's really missing in my bloggist life. I am not missing inspiration, it is all around. There is beautiful music everywhere! I am listening to Radio Paradise as I write today, and I guarantee that 'beautiful' is the word to describe the feelings and emotions that well up and gush forth from the most intelligent repitiore of eclectic sounds this morning--even with a hint of The Rolling Stones (Waiting On a Friend) all the way to Simon and Garfunkel (Bridge Over Troubled Water)! RP is typically much more ecletci than those two, but they'e just nice!
I am currently in the middle of, or at the beginning of, rather, 10 books. I have to do better at this, and I am narrowing on down. I have a spiritual classic, Reaching Out by Henri Nouwen, that I am determined to finish by Thanksgiving Day. The book is thick, and I do not mean in the sense of length. Though there is a great peace about it.
And I am engrossed in Born Standing Up, the autobiography--or biography of someone he once knew to hear the author tell it--of Steve Martin. I would have never suspected that 'The Jerk" could write with such emotion and eloquence. I should have, but I didn't. I have been inspired by Steve for, well, most of my life. I saw the aforementioned The Jerk at a very young age, and not a few times, with my parents and my aunt and cousins (the dearest people in my life then, and now. Now, the list is just a little bigger). Martin is a genius, not just of comedy, of art. Yes, Steve Martin is an artistic genius! I said it! I find him to be a bit of a kindred spirit. I hope to be, at least. Not only have I always appreciated his understated sense of comic time...ing, and really, everything about his canon of work, I am starting to embrace my inner--and outer--artist. Life is being better balanced as I do this. I am a guitarist, a lover, a student, a teacher of the instrument. And so, I embrace it. If I want to listen to Coltrane, I listen. If I want to work on my sight-reading for piano, I work. If I feel like playing guitar, I play. I little Gumpian in this sense, perhaps.
Though embracing the inner and outer artist is about letting yourself be inspired, and then letting your self inspire others through your art. Being an artist is about seeking beauty and sharing it. These are but two qualities that I feel an artist cultivates. There are so many more. I look forward to the journey, and I believe the search will uncover some creative gold-mines: both mine and the gold in others.
There is great beauty in the trees and on the ground through yesterday's leaves--tomorrow's mulch. The air bites with crisp, though loving, teeth. A love bite! People are starting to act like they know what time of year it is. And just what time of year is it? You tell me. Really. Tell me.
While this latest blog piece has contained its fair share of stream-of-consiousness style wander-rambling, it was born out of a newly rediscovered condition of wonderment, the practice of the blissful. Inspired by beauty. Blog by Matt.
For next time, I will practice a device that successful writers practice: ergonomic use of material. For example, I have noticed that many of the better preachers and writers out there will present a particular sermon or article or paper in a number of mediums and forums over a period of time. This is not 're-using', 're-cycling', and by no means is it being lazy--not coming up with something 'new' or 'fresh'. It is the wise, methodical, responsible practice of thematic development. So, for next time, I will do just that. You dear readers will get, at least the beginning of--the chronicling of our journey to New York City--the pilgrimage to baseball's high cathedral: Yankee Stadium. It's fresh a relevant, and modern, chic, important--all that good stuff--for the blog. And at the same time, it is something I have needed to do for some while! I can then be a good little travel writer! And if that isn't responsible reuse, I don't knwo what is!
And so, until we meet again, may your palette by filled with inspired beauty in a way you have never known!
standstill averted!
au revoir~
Thursday, November 6, 2008
It Doesn't Cost Anything For an Ogre to Be Nice
It's true! It doesn't cost anyone anything to be nice. I learned that this morning. I should say, I started learning that again this morning and I plan to keep working on it.
As I drove toward Remote office #2, Moxie Java, this morning I tuned into NPR (National Public Radio). I needed a break from Kind of Blue, I wasn't in the mood for sports-just yet, and have vowed to NEVER again listen to Rick and Bubba. Ask me why sometime. I'd love to tell you. And so, thank God for NPR. It is very refreshing. It is the best news source around. It has some incredible shows on Saturdays--Click and Clack, Wait, Wait, to name two--real-deal jazz when you can catch it and all the classical music you can shake a timpani at! And they have ogres. That's right. NPR: Now with ogres!
In the middle of some fine piece from the classical period, if memory serves, Farnsworth and I heard the blasts of emergency test frequencies. Strange, sure. Though not nearly so strange as what followed.
I then heard several small, or young, children argueing...with an ogre. He is just about to aquiesse to agreement. The children wanted this big, mean, ogre to stop roaring all the time. Apparently, the ogre's roaring had become problematic. The big fella realized though, that he had a bargaining chip. He would indeed stop roaring if the children would simply stop their incessant argueing. He would promise to be nice to them if they would promise to be nice to each other. It was win-win. And it wouldn't cost one, red, cent!
I have no idea how this show blasted through NPR airwaves for the 2 minutes the tale took to tell. Though I figure that it, as does everything, happened for some good reason.
And so, when providence befalls you, or a ogres persuades you, take time to realize it might just be the day's gift.
The next time you feel tempted to argue, fuss, be critical, condescending, rude or hateful--or anything mean--remember what you might end up doing to my new big, nasty, stinky, new friend. The world has enough roaring ogres. Be an ogre that looks less like something from The Lord of the Rings, but looks more like something from The Last Supper.
Or, think of it this way: be nice to strangers...you never know when you may be entertaining an ogre.
Peace to you this day. And I mean it!
As I drove toward Remote office #2, Moxie Java, this morning I tuned into NPR (National Public Radio). I needed a break from Kind of Blue, I wasn't in the mood for sports-just yet, and have vowed to NEVER again listen to Rick and Bubba. Ask me why sometime. I'd love to tell you. And so, thank God for NPR. It is very refreshing. It is the best news source around. It has some incredible shows on Saturdays--Click and Clack, Wait, Wait, to name two--real-deal jazz when you can catch it and all the classical music you can shake a timpani at! And they have ogres. That's right. NPR: Now with ogres!
In the middle of some fine piece from the classical period, if memory serves, Farnsworth and I heard the blasts of emergency test frequencies. Strange, sure. Though not nearly so strange as what followed.
I then heard several small, or young, children argueing...with an ogre. He is just about to aquiesse to agreement. The children wanted this big, mean, ogre to stop roaring all the time. Apparently, the ogre's roaring had become problematic. The big fella realized though, that he had a bargaining chip. He would indeed stop roaring if the children would simply stop their incessant argueing. He would promise to be nice to them if they would promise to be nice to each other. It was win-win. And it wouldn't cost one, red, cent!
I have no idea how this show blasted through NPR airwaves for the 2 minutes the tale took to tell. Though I figure that it, as does everything, happened for some good reason.
And so, when providence befalls you, or a ogres persuades you, take time to realize it might just be the day's gift.
The next time you feel tempted to argue, fuss, be critical, condescending, rude or hateful--or anything mean--remember what you might end up doing to my new big, nasty, stinky, new friend. The world has enough roaring ogres. Be an ogre that looks less like something from The Lord of the Rings, but looks more like something from The Last Supper.
Or, think of it this way: be nice to strangers...you never know when you may be entertaining an ogre.
Peace to you this day. And I mean it!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Yes We Did!
It may seem that I am borrowing a wee bit directly from our new President-Elect. Well, I am, though I chose those three words as the title of this entry because it is what one of my best-good-friends just said. He texted the words, rather. My soul-brother is in, or on his way home from, Cincinnati. He was a poll observer, called into action by the Obama camp. Bob Bentely (jimbobbentley.blogspot.com) is an attorney. He is a compassionate attorney. He is a good attorney.
I first sent him the text saying, "Thanks Bob, we did it!". What we did, I still contend, was change the world. And you--yes YOU--did exactly that too, if you voted. The outcome doesnt pertain to what I am saying here. If you voted, you exercised your right to be a citizen in a democratic republic. That's power my friend! I am pleased with the outcome. I will not reveal for whom and for what I voted, by nature of my ordained...nature. 'Ordained professional status' my be a better way to say that. Though I do feel good about the democratic process, the whole dog-gone democratic experiment, actually.
Though we will just have to wait and see what the national/global/cultural/political/governmental implications will be. This will require a lot of trust. We will have to build a lot of faith. This will require us to lose a lot of anger, lose a lot of distrust and a lot fear. My fellow Americans and loyal varia-lecto readers world over, we will have to lose the hate in order for our nation and the world to come together. Come together, right now! And that can't be a bad thing. Whether or not your candidate won, the nation and the world--for the most part--is rejoicing. Perhaps the world is not rejoicing because of every decision or every elected candidate, though there is a good vibe world wide. And even if I don't agree with every decision made, and I don't, that's got to be a good thing.
Most of all, I sit back and remember the excitement of my mother yesterday when we set off for the polls, when she hopped out of the car--that's a joke, Mom doesnt 'hop' anywhere--and waddled on into the poll. When she had a stranger call me at Olde Towne Coffee to let me know she was ready to be picked up, I grinned. When she, at 69 years of age, was happy-crying and jumping up and down like a 3rd grader waiting for Santa Claus--that too is a joke, Mom doesnt exactly 'jump', ever--I wanted to jump and happy-cry with her. When I turned to see her reaction to 'O-Bomb's' speech, a speech that will [should] go down in history only to see her pull her eyelids open as if to say, "did I miss something?", I grinned from ear to shining ear. When she saw the headline today that reads "Yes he did", it brought back yesterday's joy and she said, "oh, I have to get that paper!" I looked at her and said, "yes, you do. Because yes he did. Yes we did. We all did. Yes, you did Mom!" I was proud of her. I am still proud of her, and I always will be. Mary Ann, and I, and Bob, and you...and Ann Smith, my mom, changed the world yesterday. And that's got to be a good thing.
I first sent him the text saying, "Thanks Bob, we did it!". What we did, I still contend, was change the world. And you--yes YOU--did exactly that too, if you voted. The outcome doesnt pertain to what I am saying here. If you voted, you exercised your right to be a citizen in a democratic republic. That's power my friend! I am pleased with the outcome. I will not reveal for whom and for what I voted, by nature of my ordained...nature. 'Ordained professional status' my be a better way to say that. Though I do feel good about the democratic process, the whole dog-gone democratic experiment, actually.
Though we will just have to wait and see what the national/global/cultural/political/governmental implications will be. This will require a lot of trust. We will have to build a lot of faith. This will require us to lose a lot of anger, lose a lot of distrust and a lot fear. My fellow Americans and loyal varia-lecto readers world over, we will have to lose the hate in order for our nation and the world to come together. Come together, right now! And that can't be a bad thing. Whether or not your candidate won, the nation and the world--for the most part--is rejoicing. Perhaps the world is not rejoicing because of every decision or every elected candidate, though there is a good vibe world wide. And even if I don't agree with every decision made, and I don't, that's got to be a good thing.
Most of all, I sit back and remember the excitement of my mother yesterday when we set off for the polls, when she hopped out of the car--that's a joke, Mom doesnt 'hop' anywhere--and waddled on into the poll. When she had a stranger call me at Olde Towne Coffee to let me know she was ready to be picked up, I grinned. When she, at 69 years of age, was happy-crying and jumping up and down like a 3rd grader waiting for Santa Claus--that too is a joke, Mom doesnt exactly 'jump', ever--I wanted to jump and happy-cry with her. When I turned to see her reaction to 'O-Bomb's' speech, a speech that will [should] go down in history only to see her pull her eyelids open as if to say, "did I miss something?", I grinned from ear to shining ear. When she saw the headline today that reads "Yes he did", it brought back yesterday's joy and she said, "oh, I have to get that paper!" I looked at her and said, "yes, you do. Because yes he did. Yes we did. We all did. Yes, you did Mom!" I was proud of her. I am still proud of her, and I always will be. Mary Ann, and I, and Bob, and you...and Ann Smith, my mom, changed the world yesterday. And that's got to be a good thing.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
This Will Be a Day Long Remembered By the Empire
The day has arrived. I truly believe this is a banner day. There is [still] an almost tangible electricity around us. It is election day! I am enjoying some of the best coffee in the state, in the southeast (remote office #1, Olde Towne Coffee Shoppe in Huntsville, AL), and listening to some fascinating, intelligent, people discuss what the real concerns and issues are. It is refreshing. Last night, I felt less than refreshed when I saw a sign, a church sign, mind you, that read: "It's one nation under God, not Buddha. Vote". I agree with one part of that statement. The vote part. I believe in the God part too, so maybe I believe in two of the parts. Though its exactly that kind of stupidity that I am witnessing in my home state and hear about nation-wide has been frustrating at best, depressing at worst. I am feeling frustrated a good deal these days about the state of the world, the state of the union, and the state of the church. Though I believe in nothing if not hope. Hope is a part of my theology. Hope is my mantra, it is who I believe God to be and thusly hope is who I am. Today represents hope. We grabbed some of the hope and the excitement this morning.
This morning I drove my mother to Huntsville so she could vote. I will vote later when we return home. As we pulled out of the driveway I said, "Mom, here we go to change the world!". She agreed, and joined me in celebrating that excitement. It was a great moment, one that pulled us together. I am proud of Mom, and I love her so very much. She is a brave women, and she always has been. Not to mention, she is the most patient creature God ever created (until Mary Ann maybe). I dropped Anna BoNanna at her polling precinct. I took her picture, and she waddled off to exercise her civic duty. She is claiming her patriotic power. She is changing the world. She may just be saving the world. I know she sure saved me--more than once.
This morning I drove my mother to Huntsville so she could vote. I will vote later when we return home. As we pulled out of the driveway I said, "Mom, here we go to change the world!". She agreed, and joined me in celebrating that excitement. It was a great moment, one that pulled us together. I am proud of Mom, and I love her so very much. She is a brave women, and she always has been. Not to mention, she is the most patient creature God ever created (until Mary Ann maybe). I dropped Anna BoNanna at her polling precinct. I took her picture, and she waddled off to exercise her civic duty. She is claiming her patriotic power. She is changing the world. She may just be saving the world. I know she sure saved me--more than once.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Here We Are
I believe 'precipice' is the word. We are standing at the door, ready to wonder in. We stand at the cliff, debating whether or not to jump. We stand on the platform, ready to dive. We go to the edge. We stand and look down. You know we'll lose a lot of friends there baby! And yes, that last one's Van Halen! We've got no time to mess around!
The presidential election is in the morning. And I think we can feel it. I feel it, at least it feels like I feel it! There is certainly tension in the air. I had dinner with some friends tonight, and the mood was serious. That's not all that bad or unusual a thing, though for us, we three BBQ enthusiasts, we band of brothers, serious usually stays home.
I fellowshipped with my two young friends, one in law school and one a college sophomore. MA and I shared some of Tuscaloosa, Alabamas finest smoked meat with them. It is the Bar B Q Guild, after all. This group has a fair amount in common, not the least of which is laughter. Don't get me wrong, laughter shared the meal with us. But I truly sense that young people have a lot on their minds. We all do. We all should. Though for anyone under the age of 25, this election really means something. It mwans something potentially new. Potentially strong. Potentially good and life and world and reality changing.
Will it mean all these things? How will those two young men, and many more from their generation end up leading and serving me and my beautiful wife...and all the world? Will we fail them tomorrow? Will we fail each other?
Vote. I believe Obama and McCain are both good men. We would be honored to have them as special guests to our guild. Though only one can win tomorrow (please dont think back to the 'election results' of 2004).
Only one can lead, and serve, and change this world from this magnificent country's position.
Vote. Vote with your heart and your mind. Vote for who you truly believe will give the most and the best to this nation and the world.
I had more to say about some astonishingly ridiculous things people are still saying about the candidates; one in particular. Though I wont. Suffice it to say, as The Refreshments so eloquently waxed, "everybody knows the world is full of stupid people". Sad, but true. Don't be one of those stupid people.
And the only really, lasting, stupid choice, is to stay home and not vote at all.
MA asked me if we were going to pray for 'all of them'. "All of who?" I asked. "Everyone" she replied with her loving, lovely, soft voice.
I can't remember what I said. Though I now know. Yes. I will be praying for John, and Barrack, and I will be praying for Bob, and James, and Mitchell. I will be praying for Ann, and Granny, and all these folks in the bookstore. And I will be praying for someoen to give Farnsworth a safe, loving home.
We shall continue this tomorrow.
Vote.
Peace.
The presidential election is in the morning. And I think we can feel it. I feel it, at least it feels like I feel it! There is certainly tension in the air. I had dinner with some friends tonight, and the mood was serious. That's not all that bad or unusual a thing, though for us, we three BBQ enthusiasts, we band of brothers, serious usually stays home.
I fellowshipped with my two young friends, one in law school and one a college sophomore. MA and I shared some of Tuscaloosa, Alabamas finest smoked meat with them. It is the Bar B Q Guild, after all. This group has a fair amount in common, not the least of which is laughter. Don't get me wrong, laughter shared the meal with us. But I truly sense that young people have a lot on their minds. We all do. We all should. Though for anyone under the age of 25, this election really means something. It mwans something potentially new. Potentially strong. Potentially good and life and world and reality changing.
Will it mean all these things? How will those two young men, and many more from their generation end up leading and serving me and my beautiful wife...and all the world? Will we fail them tomorrow? Will we fail each other?
Vote. I believe Obama and McCain are both good men. We would be honored to have them as special guests to our guild. Though only one can win tomorrow (please dont think back to the 'election results' of 2004).
Only one can lead, and serve, and change this world from this magnificent country's position.
Vote. Vote with your heart and your mind. Vote for who you truly believe will give the most and the best to this nation and the world.
I had more to say about some astonishingly ridiculous things people are still saying about the candidates; one in particular. Though I wont. Suffice it to say, as The Refreshments so eloquently waxed, "everybody knows the world is full of stupid people". Sad, but true. Don't be one of those stupid people.
And the only really, lasting, stupid choice, is to stay home and not vote at all.
MA asked me if we were going to pray for 'all of them'. "All of who?" I asked. "Everyone" she replied with her loving, lovely, soft voice.
I can't remember what I said. Though I now know. Yes. I will be praying for John, and Barrack, and I will be praying for Bob, and James, and Mitchell. I will be praying for Ann, and Granny, and all these folks in the bookstore. And I will be praying for someoen to give Farnsworth a safe, loving home.
We shall continue this tomorrow.
Vote.
Peace.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
A Blue Day (Jazz, Part II)
The other day, I had a blue day. I cannot fully explain it, nor hardly remember all the details. It was not blue, as in melancholy like I had 'the blues', not at all. It was a beautiful morning with an almost blue tint. What tinted it in such a color, you may ask? An album. A beautiful, blue, jazz album. The album many people hold as the best jazz album ever, and some people call the best album ever, period. The album is Kind of Blue, by Miles Davis and his sextet. It's from the Columbia period. And I agree with many and most. I feel it is the best jazz album, and possibly best album period, ever. It is without doubt the best jazz album I have ever heard. I am listening to it now, and feeling wonderfully blue! I am a newly hooked, totally taken jazz addict. I am fine with this condition.
As influential and seminal as Miles and Trane and company are, this most recent push--pull rather--toward jazz for me comes from two guitar virtuosos. I'd read about their import and their influence, and then my curiosity would pull me on in. There are two such guitarists that have brought me to this place: Allan Holdsworth and Joe Pass. The former is the modern master of jazz and rock fusion with a style, sound, harmony--a language--all his own. Holdsworth is pure brilliant.
The latter, is the definitive jazz virtuoso. And his definitive jazz album, Virtuoso, explains why.
These three entities--Davis and all his cronies (Coltrane, Abernathy, Evans, et al), Pass and Holdsworth--speak and live in a different universe, musically speaking. There music takes me there and I believe it will you too.
Though what about this beautiful phenomena that is jazz creates such a well spring of, well, something nearly inexplicable, to boil and and try to gush forth? Over this weekend, I will try to explore these ideas and mysteries. Granted, I have a sermon to construct and prepare. That is my priority. Though God will bless that process, I believe, and give me time to see beauty and experience bliss (the best word I can currently find) in many other ways.
It is the first day of November. Last night was Halloween, and All Hallows Eve. Yes, all at the same time. It was Reformation Day. Today is All Saints Day, and tomorrow is All Saints Sunday. What a time a year! It is brisk, though not quite cool enough for my taste. It is homecoming in Tuscaloosa for THE University of Alabama. MA is off, home and resting peacefully. The dogs are active, wagging their tales, ready for fun. I have plenty of great things to read, hot coffee coming from remote office #2 (Moxie Java in Cullman). I just spent two well=spent hours talking wit one of my dearest friends about life--life in its fullest. I am feeling wonderfully blue!
Be cool you cats,
MMS
As influential and seminal as Miles and Trane and company are, this most recent push--pull rather--toward jazz for me comes from two guitar virtuosos. I'd read about their import and their influence, and then my curiosity would pull me on in. There are two such guitarists that have brought me to this place: Allan Holdsworth and Joe Pass. The former is the modern master of jazz and rock fusion with a style, sound, harmony--a language--all his own. Holdsworth is pure brilliant.
The latter, is the definitive jazz virtuoso. And his definitive jazz album, Virtuoso, explains why.
These three entities--Davis and all his cronies (Coltrane, Abernathy, Evans, et al), Pass and Holdsworth--speak and live in a different universe, musically speaking. There music takes me there and I believe it will you too.
Though what about this beautiful phenomena that is jazz creates such a well spring of, well, something nearly inexplicable, to boil and and try to gush forth? Over this weekend, I will try to explore these ideas and mysteries. Granted, I have a sermon to construct and prepare. That is my priority. Though God will bless that process, I believe, and give me time to see beauty and experience bliss (the best word I can currently find) in many other ways.
It is the first day of November. Last night was Halloween, and All Hallows Eve. Yes, all at the same time. It was Reformation Day. Today is All Saints Day, and tomorrow is All Saints Sunday. What a time a year! It is brisk, though not quite cool enough for my taste. It is homecoming in Tuscaloosa for THE University of Alabama. MA is off, home and resting peacefully. The dogs are active, wagging their tales, ready for fun. I have plenty of great things to read, hot coffee coming from remote office #2 (Moxie Java in Cullman). I just spent two well=spent hours talking wit one of my dearest friends about life--life in its fullest. I am feeling wonderfully blue!
Be cool you cats,
MMS
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