I’m hoping tonight is much better.
Tag: music
Rainy Days and Vacations Always Get Me Down.
Rain is our friend, right? Along with sunshine and good soil rain helps our gardens grow. But this forecast is bringing me down, man.
I’m especially bummed about the forecast for the Tampa area. Studly Doright and I have booked a beachfront suite at a resort in Clearwater, FL, for next week in celebration of our 40th anniversary. Their ten day forecast is as depressing as ours.
Hopefully this whole mess will clear out by next Thursday. If not, Studly and I have to figure out how to have fun in a hotel room for five days. I should probably bring a deck of cards. And wine. Lots of wine.
Maybe Karen Carpenter can sing me out of my funk:
http://youtu.be/PjFoQxjgbrs
Peace, people!
Life in the Key of Me
Singing Life
songs of the many,
sweet, soft voices
young and hope-filled or
gravelly, world weary,
ancient,
tinged with loss.
songs of experience,
joy imbued,
world on a string, or
blues immersed,
beer soaked,
whisky nourished.
there is a time
for every song to be heard,
even the lyrics
that tear at the heart
must be given voice
under the sun.
likewise in the midst
of despair, joyous
exclamations may erupt
guiding injured
human souls
beyond the pain.
A Little Vine Music
Summer Night
Long hot nights cruising Main, driving super slow with the windows rolled down,
The radio cranked to a soft rock station. Witchy woman sing along; see how high
She flies. Loose limbed, loosed tongue, necking in the backseat to Eagles’ live
Rendition. Good girl says whoa. Bad girl says go. She’s got the moon in her eyes.
Traffic slides by, wraiths on a river; heavy breathing, heavy petting. Hearts beat in
Sultry unison. Hands discover new delights. Tick tock. Curfew saves the night.
Art in the Park
A couple of weeks ago I shrugged off my nagging back pain to attend the LeMoyne Chain of Parks Arts Festival in downtown Tallahassee.
The day was gorgeous, seemingly made for enjoying the arts and soaking in the sun. Here are just a few of the photos I snapped that afternoon.
Art was everywhere, and much of it was for sale. It’s not often that I wish to be wealthy, but that day I did.
I love functional art and these handcrafted sinks by Indikoi Sinks fit that category beautifully.
Check them out online at www.indikoisinks.com
Then look at these gorgeous designs from Aquatic Impressions!
I purchased a cutting board.
Hanging around with famous folks.
I really want this bicycle to decorate my courtyard area. Of course I also want a dinosaur and a Buddha and maybe a 30 foot tall bacon sculpture.
Unfathomable
Sweet Weekend, Part I
If days were desserts this past weekend would have been a fresh slice of orange sponge cake, piled high with luscious red strawberries and topped with cream cheese icing. It was that good.
After a ridiculously pleasant night’s sleep Friday night (thank you Tempur-pedic!), a refreshing shower, and a hearty breakfast I dressed and headed into Tallahassee on Saturday for the Word of [South] Festival of Literature and Music.
This marks the festival’s second year. I was in La Antigua de Guatemala last April and missed out. Not that I’m complaining. My week in Antigua was the experience of a lifetime. And from what I hear the festival saw its share of rain in 2015.
There was not even a hint of precipitation this time around, though, as authors, musicians, and artists from all over the country shared their time and talents with those of us in Tallahassee. There was something for everyone, from gospel, folk, soul, rock, and jazz on the musical spectrum and every imaginable genre on the literary side.
Cascades Park hosted the event and one had only to walk from one venue to another within the park to experience a completely new vibe. And did I mention that with the exception of two concerts the event was free of charge? Sweet!
I wandered aimlessly for a bit before finding a schedule of events for one of the stages.
The Biergarten stage was just one of five venues featuring performers. Seeing Rita Coolidge’s name on the list I hurried over to grab a seat. I had no idea who Leslie Poole and Paul Garfinkel were, but I arrived as their set was in progress and fell in love with their words and message.
Ms. Poole, the author of several books about Florida, read from her most recent published work, Saving Florida. I’m not a native Floridian, so learning about the efforts of women on the front lines of environmental activism in the Sunshine State was an eye-opening experience.
Mr. Garfinkel’s engaging folk songs woven around Florida’s delicate ecosystem bestowed even greater weight to Ms. Poole’s vignettes as the two traded places in the spotlight. Their performance was a lively, thought-provoking give and take.

Then the beautiful Rita Coolidge took the stage.
Rita, a graduate of Florida State University, read from her memoir Delta Lady, and entertained the crowd with tales of her bohemian days as an art major here.

My friend Julie and her lovely mom enjoyed Rita’s talk with me. We hadn’t arranged to meet at the event; it just happened. Sweet, right?
After Rita’s presentation I had lunch at the Edison and ran into yet another friend, Cathy, who made room for me next to her place at the bar. We then hustled over to another of the stages to hear Diane Roberts read excerpts from her book, Tribal: College Football and the Secret Heart of America.
Having grown up in Texas, I could completely relate to Diane’s college football obsession. This woman, a professor at FSU, is hysterically funny. If you have any love for the game you need this book. Even if you despise the game you need this book.
I knew Studly would be getting restless, so I headed home shortly after having Ms. Roberts sign my newly purchased copy of her book. When I got home he was chomping at the bit to take the Goldwing out for an evening drive, so we suited up (“all the gear, all the time” is our motto) and rode over to Havana for a meal at a local Italian restaurant, providing the perfect ending to a perfect day.
Tomorrow I’ll share photos of Sunday at the festival. I’m still on an intellectual and emotional high after my experiences.
Peace, people!
A New, Old Language
We shared smiles and stilted conversation in a darkened smoke-filled room. Blues
licks melted around a makeshift stage like butter on hotcakes. The smell of burgers
cooking on an old Coleman grill raised a growl from my stomach while my mind
wandered in rhythm to the music. When my friend spoke again I strained to listen
over a low down lyric, “somebody done his woman wrong and someone made him pay.”
I asked my companion to repeat himself; as he talked I noted something new:
He spoke without contractions. Instead of “I’m glad you’re here,” it was “I am” and
“you are.” There was no “we’ve,” but “we have.” And I thought, who is this man?
What has shaped him to speak in this oddly stilted, yet unaffected way? Without
intending to, I found myself adopting his speech pattern. Would he notice and be
offended? Oh hell, would he think I was flirting? Adroitly I threw “isn’t” and
“aren’t,” “didn’t,” and “won’t” into the mix narrowly avoiding an awkward
situation. I can’t make this stuff up, y’all.




















