Song Writers Bliss & Torture

I was sitting around with my wife yesterday and complimenting her on her singing voice. I asked her, "How 'bout I write you a song to sing?"

Of course she liked the idea so off to the front porch I went with my guitar, manuscript paper and a mechanical pencil. A cactus wren, hummingbird, and some others desert critters came by from time to time to see how it was coming along. After following a couple sugar-coated dead-ends "IT" came to me! It was quite a catchy riff with some lyrics worth keeping around and working with. I really love when this happens!

It was at that point my wife wanted us to go take a "date" trip to the bookstore. Even though I was "into" giving birth to this new song, her idea sounded like fun. When we got there she looked at books and I pretended to look at books while wandering around and trying to work out the song in my head. For me, a song in it's early stages can be elusive if not written down or recorded straight-away. The more I walked around the more the song "came to me". The melody for the verse popped in to say "Hello". I was happy.

That was until they started piping in music over the store's p.a. system. The competing voices in my head was maddening. I went upstairs to the second floor of the bookstore and then to every corner but the music was just as loud. "Good sound system.", I thought. But what made it worse was that it sounded like Sting. If it would have actually been Sting then I don't think it would have been a problem. But it was someone who sounded like Sting...and not as good. So, you can see my predicament.

Eventually I went outside and sat on a rock and watched the mountains. (Actually, it was a parking lot, an office complex, a housing subdivision, more houses, hills and then the mountains. But as a tortured songwriter it sounds more dramatic just to say I was looking off to the mountains for solace and inspiration.) There was some peace out there. I solidified what I had done so far but nothing new. That Muzak had all the charm of saying "I want kids." on a first date. I felt like I was operating in two worlds at once...which I was.

Thankfully, we soon left and went home to have some dinner. Another odd thing happened on the way home. My wife played the new Dixie Chicks and it was quite enjoyable. She sang along nice, too!

Contest Ideas

There always seems to be a contest going on where I work. Sometimes the contest are just for fun and sometimes they are incentive based to drive performance.

Since my term of employment here is winding down due to down-sizing I had a couple great ideas for contests:

1) The Shopping Cart Decoration Contest. The company will supply specially decorated cans, theme oriented refuse and sleeping bags. Local appliance stores have generously donated discarded appliance boxes for the event.

2) The Depressed Persons Sleep-A-Thon! Prone to sleep off those losing-your-jobs blues? Sponsor sign-up sheets will be available shortly. For every hour extra you sleep you can earn money for local charities! Big prizes for the biggest sleepy-head. All applicants subject to current anti-depressant prescription verification and counselor/doctor referral.

I just know I'll be hearing back from corporate with the "thumbs-up" real soon.

Downsized In A Supersized World

I found out this past Tuesday morning that my job will be eliminated as of 6/30. Not just mine but the other 300 or so jobs the make up the whole department.

Watching my fellow employees go through this reminds of being around family when someone is in the hospital and expected to die soon. There is the good and the bad. There are those that pull together and those who freak out and go into the corner. There are those that lend an extra hand and those that scramble soley for their own self interest. I would put myself into all the categories right now.

I don't think our relationships truly define us. I do think that how we handle our relationships can. My job doesn't define me but how I relate to my job does. That's just a responsible way of approaching it for me.

Upon arrival to our job this Tuesday, we all saw the extra unfamiliar faces, extra security guards, cordoned off parts of the work space. We were all escorted to the big meeting room. The people in the room set to conduct the meeting pensive and strained faces. The writing was already on the wall long before a definte word was spoke.

Because of this the shock was less. In fact, except for a few people that cried, the level of comedy was high. People make jokes to deal with stress but it wasn't so much that. It was this "grave-side" humor that would regale Soviet Jews perhaps.

(e.g. Avram lies dying. "Sarah, are you here?" he asks. "Yes, I'm here." "Is Moishe here?" "Yes, he's here." "Is Rebecca here?" "She's here too." "Are the cousins here?" "Of course." "And all the grandchildren too?" "Here they are." "Then who's minding the store?")

For example: "I don't think that the strategically placed boxes of tissues are good sign." or, "If they were going to hire extra security they should have them them bring bagels." Amid comments about transfering to another department in the company someone said, "I think that would be like running from one end of the Titanic to the other."

So, I look at all the different faces changing on the same people. I briefly wonder what others see in me. Maybe they'll see what was always there. Although I have my own concerns I hope they see someone that is truly o.k. with the whole deal an is acting wisely. I also hope they know I am willing to listen and offer what I can.

We were given the option of taking the day off with pay or we could stay and work. At first, I was a bit disoriented. I thought about my wife and our pets, mostly. I sat down at my desk and pondered the choice set before me for that day. Someone turned on some music played it loud enough for us all to hear. It was something purposely happy to lift our spirits. That was a tender thing to do, I thought.

And the band played on.

Quote For the Day

"The greatest compliment that was ever paid me was when one asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer."

Henry David Thoreau

Junk Yard

No Folk Festival today.

I had to go to the junk yard and find a part for my car. This was the my first time in a car junk yard. The fellow at the entrance pointed out a couple rows of cars that might have what I was looking for.

Things were scattered all over the place. The yard gave me the same impression as garbage bags that were left outside overnight and ripped apart by a pack of dogs. Large chunks taken here and some claw marks there. Although a desolate place and certainly not "pretty" there was still this feeling that saturated the air of eagerness and the lingering resonance of quiet, previous celebrations.

Ladies, you think that finding shoes half off is cool? How does finding an essential component to your car's performance at a tenth the price of a new dealer part? That goes beyond "cool".

I did find what I was looking for in the area I was told I would. I didn't even need to use the tools I had brought. Because of what somebody had taken before me, they left my treasure just sitting there every so nicely for the taking. I looked at the part carefully thinking this was way too easy. I carried it to check-out and softly said aloud, "Thank ya, Jesus!".

TIme For Music

After some household chores this morning, this is how I spent the rest of the morning: on the futon looking over the beautiful desert, writing music with a cat asleep on my foot. Guitar, blue jeans, manuscript paper and a cat.

When I actually get a decent recording of this song maybe I'll put a link so you can hear it. Maybe...just maybe.

This weekend in Tucson is the Folk Music Festival. I do not know if I will go, though. In fact I am down-right hesitant. For one, I'd have to get up off the futon and that would involve moving the cat.

Seriously, I just don't know about investing the better part of two hours round trip and hoping to find something fun to listen to in the meantime. I am cynical about the whole deal and I don't know why. I like playing some old cowboy folk songs but I am concerned I will run into hippie aural run-off and people complaining about their lives out of key. It's a bad attitude I know.

Another thing: I am listening to Devo as I write this so I am not in a "folkie" mood at all. It is also my day off and I am rather enjoying my time at home alone.

I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I see this picture and wish I could purr instead of snoring.

Does God Hate America?

Following is one of my favorite quotes. I reminds me to stay open and humble:

"I think if we were given the Scriptures, it was not so that we could prove that we were right about everything. If we were given the Scriptures, it was to humble us into realizing that God is right, and the rest of us are just guessing." - Rich Mullins

The quote came to mind after I saw a disturbing video clip recently. Basically, there were people protesting America's involvement in Iraq war at, of all places, a soldier's funeral. The signs they carried said, in essence, that the soldiers are rightfully dead as a direct result of God's wrath.

(photo used by permission of http://www.godhatesamerica.com/)

This was shocking for me to hear about and see. I was, like many others, indignant about the whole matter. Us? Wrong? How dare someone make that assumption!

I backed up a bit and considered something: the concept of being under some Divine protection (or not) is not a new concept. This is especially illustrated in times of war. I personally have heard and read too many stories to believe otherwise. People of many faiths that have been on the battlefield and have seen swords invisibly deflected, bullets or arrows fall in front of them, angels blocking mortar shells...the list could go on and on. History shows that displays of Divine expression become quite dramatic during wartime.

Consider the matter from the other side. Moral assertions of being right are quite different from Divine grace. Of course, it would be nothing short of arrogant to say we are the dispensers or designators of Divine protection. So, if someone has walked away from God's grace under some moral pretense, however noble, perhaps they have put themselves in harms way unnecessarily.

We live in an increasingly de-spiritualized culture. Because of that, I am less assured that our soldiers are Divine executors of God's will. Religious bigotry is also disturbing to no end. From these protesters at the funeral to the suicide bomber, both are motivated by a sense of religious duty that is either internal and/or imposed on them. In even a limited way, maybe both are right.

But then, I am just guessing.

Dark Lord and the Pope

Two twin boll weevils grew up in South Carolina...



One went on to leave Earth and become a Dark Lord and Emperor of the entire known galaxy.







The other stayed behind on Earth to become a religious leader and, compared to the other weevil, he never amounted to much.






The second one, naturally, became known as the lesser of two weevils.