Monday, April 24, 2006

Good Worn Shoes

To be back home from work before one in the morning is a rare thing. The moment is a cherishable one, and after reading the latest letter from wandering kaleidoscopes Karin and Linford, I think I'll turn out the light, open the window to the night, and light a candle. Nothing gives a hobbit-hole apartment a little more life like a fresh breeze. I'll be back in a moment.

Yes. Shoes off, glass of wine, the smell of night. I haven't been keen to write in a while, and it feels like straining myself into an old dance move. Letting go of the all-brawn and no heart approach is always funny though, because once I get into that groove, it always leads me back to God. Beauty and the wonder of little things draw me along the same sweet blindfolded line every time. It's a tad frustrating, when the only words that convey the unspeakable are little scents of memory caught on the wind. Nothing really concrete, we seem to be ants on the branches of that live oak. Scuttling under Spanish moss and through rivets in the bark, catching an inkling of what the greater picture might be. But if it were that easy, no writer would stand out and tell us the things we need to hear. No prophets. No crazies.

So I'll sit here and tell of nothing to the cadence of crickets tuning up for the birds to sing the sun above the far off hills to the east. And maybe, you'll get something out of it, and maybe I will too.

I met a new dog tonight. Marianne had her friend Hillary at the store tonight, and Hillary brought Noah, a mutt of some recognizable making, and some not - with every inch an amiable and curious young fellow. He looked to be at least part Rottweiler, with his brown eyebrows making his black face the picture of a surprised cartoon. It was good to meet Hillary, and Noah. So one-dimensional is a dog, the easiest of friends. I used to think that verse about entertaining angels might apply to my dog, and I still wouldn't count it among the impossible. A creature to teach the learnable unconditional love, and to simply enjoy it with the learned. Honest eyes.

There is peace. In the midst of peace on this side of the grey rain curtain of the world, there is peace yet still. Goodnight.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Furthermore, Some Questions

It's been a booger of a week. The show at Grounds & Sounds was not exactly a success in earthly terms, with the exception of a couple cd sales. I have to remember that God doesn't necessarily operate in earthly terms though. That said, one of my friends walked out on me that night before the show, and didn't bother to really sit down and talk about whatever grievances were between us. So we played the show anyway, even though I was quite hurt by the whole thing. I sort of felt sorry for the gaggle of folks that were there. Their perception of the tension in the room and their inability to help or deal with it was written on their faces.

The weather didn't help much. A heaviness gathered in the air outside and commenced in a fair monsoon by the time we left for a sympathy meal at Cracker Barrel. It was one of those times when one feels like throwing in the towel. Still, a walk in the soaking waters of that storm would've been like the waters of Jordan at that point. I think I'm still on the path of questioning whether I'm going the way I should. But I will speak no more of my quarrel, because it is as decided as I can make it.

I did have a wonderful day off with Kat today, even though we were a bit discouraged this morning as we both felt that the church we've been visiting is not where God wants us to be. There are good people there, and I feel somewhat disappointed in not worshiping with them on a weekly basis. The thing we're looking for now is a place where we can study the Bible with people. It seems a simple enough request, but these places are unfortunately few and far between. I need to pray more. Lately I feel more and more burdened by the agnostic attitude that is so pervasive in the American halls of the so-called intelligentsia. Like I told a fellow Friday though, I think there aren't but two or three people in the country who could be set on the road to discipleship through the proven logic of a Christian worldview. Like a great many blanket statements I tuck my opinions into, I'm sure that's grossly inaccurate. I've been reading How Now Shall We Live by Chuck Colson, and the man is wonderfully adept at proving the foolishness of alternative worldviews, insomuch as one can with room left for faith. But I don't really feel equipped to deal with any conversation I get into. Furthermore, I don't believe that winning various and sundry debates would bring any sheep into this Gentile sheep-pen. It might do a lot more of proving my jackass stubbornness and my curt, unreignable tongue.

Grace. Grace is the agent of question. Grace follows no logic and no material rules, because it's not bound by any chains but the ever-marching laws of Love - by the character of God himself. Colson calls it common grace: that which you and I can in our own power bestow. And to tell the truth, I do love the bewildered look people give in payment for an unprecedented gift. You'd think I had put the whole of the muddy Holston in a bottle and set it in their hands.

PS. I'll try to post an entire list of available cds soon. Offhand, I could sell you the original Matrix soundtrack for a slim price.

Thursday, April 13, 2006


Short post today, as I've got some reading to do and then some sleep to do. I've been screwing up my internal clock in past nights, so I don't really have one anymore. Don't do this, it's not good for you.

Finally, Barebones has arrived!!!

Albums are being printed as we speak. As Sammy said, yeah, it's just a demo. But it feels like I've accomplished something. Kudos to my dad for printing the little boogers. They look great. So, I feel way behind for the show this coming Friday, but we'll see if I can't wrangle it all together this week. Kat and I are selling some stuff to help us pay off credit card bills. Going through sellable things to decide what to put 'on the market' makes me realize how materialistic I am. Not to mention that I'm a pack-rat. But there's a sense of release when things that we cling to are suddenly gone. Kind of scary but exhilirating. So, that said, if you want to buy one of the following, let us know somehow.

1)cds - I will list the ones for sale next post

2)a few formal dresses - I don't know women's sizes, but if you're interested, let me know and I'll get you in touch with Kat before she puts them on eBay.

3)a Fender Gemini II 12-string acoustic - comes with a case and a humidifier

4)a Hofner 6-string classical - with a hardshell case. This guitar has great projection for it's size and could use a good home with a flamenco player.

5)Some movies which I will list next post.

We've also got a bunch of books going to McKay's. There are several Left Behind series in there, if you really want them. I've also got a few nice hardback Michael Crichton books: Lost World, Timeline, and Prey. Plus a few paperback editions of Congo, Andromeda Strain, and Sphere. All that and more goes to McKay's really soon, so get 'em while they're hot.

The new album will (hopefully) be on sale at the shows this weekend.

Check your local listings ------------------------->>

See you later.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Italian Induced Insomnia

I have developed a raving case of insomnia. Especially on nights like tonight when work is the equivalent of trying to build a house with all the power tools come alive in classic Beauty and the Beast fashion. There was the annual festival to celebrate the life and works of Rossini in town tonight. You, if you're like me, will only know Rossini from Bugs Bunny singing the Barber of Seville.

Welcome to my shop,
Let me cut your mop,
Let me shave your crop-

I love that cartoon.

So people who left the festival found it worthwhile to come to the Bucks.... at roughly the same time. So, as I told Andy, I couldn't tell you who was in the store tonight, but I know I made a lot of drinks. But that level of operation leaves me with a muddle-headed hyperactivity that doesn't quickly diminish, even though it's Sunday now, by a widening margin. It seems that I close so often on Saturdays now.

In answer to my goal-setting, I have purchased a ledger to keep records of shows with. Now I'm a sort of Bob Cratchett figure with my nondescript olive messenger bag and my black ledger, keeping Scrooge's records in case it ever matters. Maybe it's good business and a good idea. So I've been told. I also have a preliminary list of settings for my book, and that's all I shall reveal on that subject.

Recent news brings me to New City Cafe's Songwriter Shootout. I got to go Thursday night and did pretty well in the whole durn thing, and met some great folks in the process. I told Kat that we'd all be better just to sit around and play without being judged by someone, which brings me to the suggested t-shirt from last year, when Andy Peterson was cast as a judge. We simply found it uncommonly hilarious thinking of "Andrew Peterson is judging you," on a t-shirt. Even now, seeing his face with the stern and weighty gaze of an inquisitor on it brings a laugh. He's too kind a fella to wear that face. Don't tell him I said so, he'll blush and dig his toe in the ground like we all do. I finally met some people at this competition that I've 'known' only through MySpace in previous days. I suppose the best and most humbling part was the light show on the drive home. The second line of recent storms past through, and bless my wife for driving. She knows I can't watch the road for watching the show. There aren't words for lightning any more than there are for kisses. We laughed later at the newspeople telling us there were "unconfirmed reports of a tree down in Jefferson County." I fully expected some old boy in overalls to come on camera and say in amazement that there was water...a-fallin from the sky. So goes the news in Jefferson County. But I suppose no news can't be bad news.

Off to the shower. I'm going to try to get off that gross I-worked-hard feeling before attempting to sleep.