Category: Music

  • Talkin’ to Myself

    Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
    Sometimes I’d like to quit
    Nothin’ ever seems to fit
    Hangin’ around
    Nothin’ to do but frown
    Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
    — The Carpenters/Adam Williams, Rainy Days and Mondays

    Rainy days and Mondays never really drag me down. Sure, we’ve had way more rain than we should this season, while others aren’t getting nearly enough of it. I can fret about climate change but I don’t usually care that it’s raining or sunny on any given day. Likewise, I don’t worry all that much whether it’s a Monday or a Saturday, as each is a gift. The key is whether you feel in control of your days or whether you feel someone else is controlling them. We can’t control the passing of time or the weather, only our reaction to it. The jury is still out on whether we collectively have the fortitude to do anything about climate change.

    I saw a friend the other day who parroted the dangers of “mass murderers swarming crossing the border and descending upon innocents across the country”. I didn’t have the energy to get in a debate with him, having learned during the last two elections in the United States that people are going to believe what they believe and you just can’t force an alternate story line upon a zealot. It made me sad to see another one gone though, reminding me of that closing moment in Invasion of the Body Snatchers when you realize someone you once believed in had switched over to the dark side. Sometimes you just want to scream. But like the weather, this is a reaction we can choose or opt out of. Instead I focused on what we had in common.

    The quality of our lives is always going to be about who is controlling our time and our belief system. When we accept that some things are out of our control, we learn to work with what we can. Amor fati. Our beliefs, on the other hand, can be developed independently of what those around us may believe. We may yet become who we want to be in this life, and we ought to have faith in others to find a way forward too.

    Lately my posts have been all over the place in both content and when they’re published. It’s a sign of a complicated life, perhaps, or maybe it’s just the time bucket I happen to reside in at the moment. Either way, it’s documented and best viewed through the lens of time. What I’m sure of is that I’ve often wanted to quit, but just keep writing anyway. That’s how life works too. Just keep showing up and doing the work and things usually work out in the end. Nothing to be down about at all, really. Just one soul in a wild world, talking to himself.

  • Nothing Gold Can Stay

    Nature’s first green is gold,
    Her hardest hue to hold.
    Her early leaf’s a flower;
    But only so an hour.
    Then leaf subsides to leaf.
    So Eden sank to grief,
    So dawn goes down to day.
    Nothing gold can stay.
    — Robert Frost, Nothing Gold Can Stay

    Halfway through another month as I publish this, and I shake my head at the magic I’ve missed doing other things. But there are always other things. We do what we can with the time we’re given.

    Memento mori is a statement of freedom. When we understand that we have an expiration date, we go out and live our lives uniquely focused. Carpe diem. There should be nothing more to it than this.

    And yet there are things out of our control that must be addressed as they hit us squarely. Life is an ongoing reality check. The world is not perfect, there are storms brewing, and no matter how well we plan the party sometimes it just rains. Amor fati: Love of fate. As The Police reminded us in a song, “when the world is runnin’ down, you make the best of what’s still around”.

    But this is the deal we made entering this world: We are young and vibrant for just so long. We grow and become what we can in our season and then we hand the reigns in the next season. Nothing gold can stay.

    There is freedom in knowing the truth. It’s a calling that we answer every day. To live with urgency and purpose, gratitude and joyfulness. This is our poem. This is our song. This is our life.

  • Faster Things

    Last Sunday morning, the sunshine felt like rain
    The week before, they all seemed the same
    With the help of God and true friends, I’ve come to realize
    I still have two strong legs, and even wings to fly

    So I, ain’t a-wastin time no more
    ‘Cause time goes by like hurricanes, and faster things
    — Gregg L. Allman, Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More

    The years fly by, and we begin to notice this at our own pace. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to shake us out of the fog of distraction, as it did for Gregg Allman when his brother Duane died in a motorcycle accident, prompting lyrics like those above. When someone is taken from us in the prime of life it shakes the survivors around that person to the core. At some point, if we’re lucky, we awaken to the reality of memento mori without being turned upside down by tragedy, and simply begin at last to live in earnest.

    The whole point of remembering that we all must die is to live now, while there’s still time. It’s easier said than done, as life piles on the busy. Life will never be perfectly aligned to do everything we possibly could do in our lifetime, but if we focus on essential things we might feel we’ve done enough. A lifetime is always a faster thing than we care to believe, so a bit of structure and purpose go a long way towards feeling we did what we could in the time we have.

    The trick is to structure is to put everything in it’s season. Bill Perkins called this time buckets in his book Die With Zero. Using time buckets, we may prioritize what is most essential now, and what can (and cannot) be deferred to later. For example, I may never hike the Appalachian Trail as I thought I might at 20, but I can still chip away at other things that require the fitness and time I have available now for other worthy life goals. But how do you determine what is essential when if you don’t make the time to make the list and assign it to its proper time? We are what we prioritize. Use this time bucket to map out all the rest.

    Since I began writing this post we’ve seen a few famous people pass away, and we’ve all collectively gained another week of experience in our lifetime. Those sands keep pouring out of the hourglass, whether we’re ready for it or not. Our best chance at a full lifetime is to wrestle with our days one at a time, but with the structure of an overriding purpose and plan for how to use each season. Because time goes by like hurricanes, and faster things.

  • Unhurried and Wise

    “Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

    I logged on to a Software-as-a-Service account I use for work thinking I’d quickly check a box that was nagging me. Upon login I was prompted for a mandatory password change, adding another box to check instead of eliminating one. So it is that even the quickest tasks lead to more tasks, and the whirl spins our heads just when we think we have it all figured out.

    Some of us aspire to be unhurried and wise. Certainly, during the pandemic we all examined our priorities. Many pivoted to more meaning, while others leaped back into the familiar trap of distraction. I was somewhere in between, with an inclination to seek waterfalls and summits balanced by a series of compelling shows streaming on too many services to count that I simply had to catch up on so I could keep up with the conversation. I never quite met my objective on either count, but don’t feel compelled to finish any of them at the moment. Checking boxes is a game, and there are times in our life when we grow tired of games.

    When we make time for nature and poetry in our lives, we aren’t being frivolous, we’re seeking the essential. To do this properly is to eliminate distraction and focus on where we are now. Some of us become masterful in adding one more thing to the list, thinking it will be the one thing that will fulfill us or at least make the day complete. This is a form of frenzy, which is never an attractive state. Better to shorten the list than shorten our state of awareness and calm. The goal of life should never be to rush through it.

    If I aspire to anything in this stage of life, it’s to move closer to unhurried and wise. By all accounts I’ve got a long way to go in both respects, but there’s no rushing to unhurried, and there’s no shortcut to wise. It begins with shorter lists and lingering longer on the quietly beautiful magic around us. Some tasks are inevitable, but they should never be at the expense of what has a right to be in this moment.

  • Soundtrack Memories

    In the last few days, a trio of musicians have passed away. They say these things happen in threes, and there you go. Jimmy Buffett, Steve Harwell from Smash Mouth and Gary Wright all passed away within a couple of days of each other. Each is a part of our soundtrack in their own way, and certain songs remind us of special moments in our lives when it was playing. Memories are funny things, and songs, like scents, bring the past back in waves.

    Well, I think it’s time to get ready
    To realize just what I have found
    I have lived only half of what I am
    It’s all clear to me now
    My heart is on fire

    — Gary Wright, Love Is Alive

    There always seemed to be a Gary Wright song playing for awhile there. Especially Dream Weaver but Love is Alive wasn’t far behind. Together they’re an integral part of the life of anyone who listened to popular music in the 70’s. Gary was a musician on George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass album, which seems appropriate to bring up at the moment. We keep seeing examples of it, and our lesson is clear: Memento mori, friend. Carpe diem…

    So much to do, so much to see
    So what’s wrong with taking the back streets?
    You’ll never know if you don’t go
    You’ll never shine if you don’t glow
    Hey now, you’re an all star
    Get your game on, go play
    Hey now, you’re a rock star
    Get the show on, get paid
    And all that glitters is gold
    Only shooting stars break the mold

    — Smash Mouth, All Star

    Smash Mouth was a shooting star at a time when the entire music industry was swirling with exciting new music. I’ve often thought I’d use these lyrics one day, I just didn’t anticipate it would be at the death of their lead singer. The thing about shooting stars is that they burn out quickly. Harwell’s lifestyle apparently led to his early demise at 56. I know someone trying to kill themselves with alcohol and had a cousin who did. Alcohol can be a demon that grabs ahold of its victim and drags them down to depths unexpected when they start dancing with it. I feel for his family and friends.

    Most mysterious calling harbor
    So far but yet so near
    I can see the day when my hair’s full gray
    And I finally disappear
    — Jimmy Buffett, One Particular Harbor

    Jimmy Buffett had twenty years on Harwell, but it still felt like he passed way too soon. His impact on my own soundtrack is obvious, as I’ve inserted him into three blog posts in the three days since I heard that he’d passed away. Each of these musicians filled some part of our lives, and by extension the lives of those who live on the periphery and catch the tune as they’re making their own memories. Music and memories are viral in that way. The music lives on, as we all say, but the world feels a bit emptier today than it did just a few days ago. Each of them filled the world with song. Doesn’t it fall on us to pick up where they left off?

  • Winds of Time

    I’m growing older but not up
    My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
    Let those winds of time blow over my head
    I’d rather die while I’m livin’ than live while I’m dead
    — Jimmy Buffett, I’m Growing Older But Not Up

    Two events happened concurrently over the last few days that rocked the boat for me. Jimmy Buffett passed away, following Gordon Lightfoot, Harry Belafonte and several other performers to Rock & Roll heaven, while signaling once again that the party doesn’t go on indefinitely. And less important to the world at large, a building I once worked at with many motivated change agents was announced to be closing. The subsequent rehashing of memories from people I haven’t seen in years triggered even more nostalgia for me. When things are subtracted from the sum of our lives, we inevitably feel the loss. But those winds of change keep blowing, and we must learn to navigate them as best we can.

    Nothing drives change like time. And we have blessedly little control over the sweeping changes it inflicts upon us all. Realizing this is either the moment that panic sets in and we scurry to grab control over things we will never control or the moment we accept the circumstances of being born into this mad situation. Amor fati: love of fate. The universe isn’t ours to control, only our reaction to the forces blowing over us.

    The thing we sometimes forget about growing older is how lucky we are for the gift of time. Those extra days offer an accumulation of memories and experiences that make life more complete. Alternatively, we might resist change and hold on for dear life to things that were never meant to be forever things. We ourselves aren’t forever things. Memento mori. So don’t postpone living. We can’t live when we’re dead.

  • RIP Jimmy Buffett: Fare You Well

    I put my completed blog post aside after hearing the news that Jimmy Buffett had passed away yesterday. It will have to wait for another day: An original modern pirate has died.

    Jimmy Buffett found paradise and told the rest of world where to find it, creating an industry in the process. Everybody knows Margaritaville and Come Monday, but it takes a dedicated Parrothead to dive deeply into his catalog. Here are five songs to remember Jimmy Buffett by as we toast his life with a splash of rum and a song in our hearts:

    A Pirate Looks At Forty

    If Margaritaville is the anthem for Parrotheads, A Pirate Looks At Forty is the heart and soul. Any sailor worth their salt has hummed this song to themselves at some point while on the water or wishing they were so. Many of us fancy ourselves as rebels and pirates when we aren’t being responsible adults, and this song is the anchor for that identity.

    Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
    Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
    You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all
    Watched the men who rode you, switch from sails to steam
    And in your belly, you hold the treasures few have ever seen
    Most of ’em dream, most of ’em dream
    Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
    The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothin’ to plunder
    I’m an over-forty victim of fate
    Arriving too late, arriving too late

    Jimmy Dreams

    Jimmy reminds himself and each of us to take it all in it’s as big as it seems. The explorer within us dying to break free hears that call, and seeks adventure. We live in a world that mocks dreamers. He reminds us that everything big begins with the audacity to dream it.

    Jimmy stares
    Towards the bright Piades
    It’s so strange
    What his distant eye sees
    The worlds such a toy if you just stay a boy
    You can spin it again and again
    Who knows why you start
    Rediscovering your heart
    But that’s why Jimmy dreams

    Migration

    I may have heard this song a thousand times by now, and still smile at the idea of training a parakeet to open your wine bottles for you. Buffett in his latter years was wealthy enough to have people for that, but can’t you just picture him in that old suit? He was a master at painting the tropics as magical.

    Well now if I ever live to be an old man
    I’m gonna sail down to Martinique
    I’m gonna buy me a sweat-stained Bogart suit
    And an African parakeet
    And then I’ll sit him on my shoulder
    And open up my trusty old mind
    I gonna teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss
    And pull the cork out of a bottle of wine

    Nautical Wheelers

    Perhaps my favorite song by Jimmy Buffett, Nautical Wheelers portrays the early days in Key West, when anything seemed possible if you just stepped into it. The Keys are a destination now, and that young man holding the line while everyone else at the party danced to their own beat would have been amazed at how much his songs sold the dream. Life was more laid back then. It was a place where you could live and die in 3/4 time. Today cruise ships dump tourists off to hit Sloppy Joe’s and Capt Tony’s Saloon before stumbling back aboard. We all want a bit of paradise, and to be where it all started.

    Well the left foot it’ll follow where the
    Right foot has traveled down to the
    Sidewalks unglued.
    And into the street of my city so neat,
    Where nobody cares what you do.
    And Sonja’s just grinnin’
    And Phil is ecstatic and
    Mason has jumped in the sea.
    While I’m hangin’ on to a line
    From my sailboat oh,
    Nautical Wheelers save me.
    And It’s dance with me, dance with me
    Nautical wheelers.
    Take me to stars that you know.
    Come on and dance with me,
    Nautical wheelers
    I want so badly to go.

    Cowboy in the Jungle

    Jimmy saw those businesses catering to tourists and doubled down on it with the Margaritaville brand. But well before that he looked less fondly at those who tried to jamb a lifetime of freedom into a few vacation days. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, they say. Buffett became a billionaire on the idea of freedom and the carefree tropical lifestyle. But who wants to swim in a roped-off sea?

    Alone on a midnight passage
    I can count the falling stars
    While the Southern Cross and the satellites
    They remind me of where we are
    Spinning around in circles
    Living it day to day
    And still 24 hours may be 60 good years
    It’s really not that long a stay

    Savannah Fare You Well

    Buffett’s daughter is named Savannah, so the place had a special meaning for him. When people think of Buffett for songs like Fruit Cakes, Fins and Volcano, I point them towards Savannah Fare You Well as an example of a more refined, introspective artist. There are so many great songwriters out there, but nobody sold the salty dream better than Jimmy Buffett.

    It’s such a fragile magic
    A puff of wind can break the spell
    And all the golden threads are frail as spider webs
    Savannah, fare you well

  • Doing If You Want To‘s

    “If you want to be a poet, write poetry. Every day. Show us your work.
    If you want to do improv, start a troupe. Don’t wait to get picked.
    If you want to help animals, don’t wait for vet school. Volunteer at an animal shelter right now.
    If you want to write a screenplay, write a screenplay.
    If you want to do marketing, find a good cause and spread the idea. Don’t ask first.
    If you’d like to be more strategic or human or caring at your job, don’t wait for the boss to ask.
    Once we leave out the “and” (as in, I want to do this and be well paid, invited, approved of and always successful) then it’s way easier to.”
    — Seth Godin, Are you doing what you said you wanted to do?

    Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
    And if you want to be free, be free
    ‘Cause there’s a million things to be
    You know that there are

    — Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam), If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

    We complicate things with the stories we tell ourselves. We envision what a writer ought to look like, or an actor or leader or whatever we aspire to be. Instead of just slipping on the role for size and doing it. Just do it, as Nike famously coopted as their slogan. How many do just that? Don’t let it slip away, do some version of it now and grow into the rest.

    I write this blog fancying myself a writer. I wear plenty of other hats as well, so I try to write before the world wakes up and tells me I’m supposed to be something else now. Most of the time I give the world what it wants of me, but for a little time every day I simply write. If the posts are late in the day or seem a bit compressed and scattered, it’s usually a sign that I was running late, compressed and scattered myself. But I still put it out there as a humble statement that yes, I do in fact write.

    There’s a million things to be, you know that there are, but there’s usually a very short list of things you simply have to be to feel you’re on the right path. Doing those if you want to’s is the only way to feel like the world isn’t passing you by. Most of the universe barely recognizes that Seth Godin or Yusuf Islam put out similar statements, let alone me, but each of us knows that we showed up and shipped the work. We each grow into our identity with the things we do now. Sometimes that’s enough.

  • Our Most Important Things

    So easily forgotten are the most important things
    Like the melody and the moonlight in your eyes
    And a song that lasts forever, keeps on gettin’ better
    All the time
    — Keb’ Mo, Life Is Beautiful

    Walking a lot of miles lately, I’ve come to see the town I live in at ground level, turning corners into places I haven’t been in a long time, or ever before. I see the changing nature of things, and I’m reminded of a time not so long ago when it was my own children at beginner’s summer soccer camp or at baseball practice. These stages of life fly by quickly, but the next generation steps right on to that field to build someone else’s memories. Our own will inevitably fade, perhaps, but the foundation laid in time and presence is strong.

    I walk to cover miles, deliberate and at the fastest pace I can sustain for 5-7 miles. I’m not a speed walker but I have a long stride that helps when the aim is fitness and mileage. Countering this pace, a couple of times a day I take the new puppy for a walk. She’s finding her courage in a strange new world, and the pace is much slower than my normal stride. My favorite Navy pilot once told me that when you’re walking a dog you aren’t walking, the dog is walking. You’re just keeping it company while it experiences the world. So rushing that experience does the dog a disservice, but it does for us too. Like those children growing up way too quickly if we aren’t paying attention, puppies grow up too. Embrace the pace you find yourself in, for one day it will change again.

    For all the changes happening all around us, some things remain the same. It’s easy to forget the people and routines that hold us to solid ground when life does cartwheels. They offer something tangible and meaningful for us in good times and bad, through the dizzying pace of rapid change and the dullest days of stagnation and limited progress. We ought to celebrate our quiet anchors, even as we explore the changes life takes us through. They are our most important things as we sort out the changes and find our stride for what comes next.

  • The Right Time

    I spent a lifetime
    Waiting for the right time
    Now that you’re near
    The time is here, at last
    It’s now or never
    Come hold me tight
    Kiss me my darling
    Be mine tonight
    — Elvis Presley, It’s Now or Never

    What is your five year plan? Do you have one? Or should we simply live in the moment? Is there purpose in the moment or only intent? Intent can cause all kinds of problems if it conflicts with purpose. Some say that five years is too long a period of time, entire cultures (looking at you, Japan) may think it too limited a scope. A long view is seeing the forest for the trees and setting the compass heading, while a short view is the immediacy of successfully executing this next step. It’s equally fair to say that we must know our general direction or we’ll walk in circles as it is to say it doesn’t matter where we were heading if we stumble and fall off the cliff.

    The lens of a lifetime is simply too broad a focus because there are only so many things we can focus on at any given time. Given this, it’s better to set auto-pilot whenever possible so we can get back to the business of now. 401(k) plans are helpful because you set it and forget it. We can say the same about healthy lifetime habits like exercise and flossing. Such tasks are best left to auto-pilot, but we can’t very well live our life on auto-pilot, for one day we’ll look around and find we’ve missed everything that mattered.

    Using the lens of time buckets becomes a way of understanding what our priorities ought to be in this particular phase of our lives. We only have so many years to do physical things, only so many years to be a parent, only so many primary earning years… it all adds up to a lifetime of only so many years. Within that lens of time buckets, our reason for being, raison d’etre, becomes more focused. Asking big questions about the entirety of our lives is impossible to answer, because we change so much over our lifetime. My raison d’etre at 20 was entirely different from my raison d’etre at 40. Looking ahead to someday 60 or 80 (if we’re so bold as to believe we’ll reach it), you see the reason changing dramatically over and over again. Sure, family and friendships will matter at any age, but a purposeful hike of the Appalachian Trail is rapidly shrinking down in relevance. It’s fair to say it’s now or never for such a life goal.

    Waiting for the right time seems counterintuitive when we become hyper aware of our own mortality. Memento mori naturally leads to carpe diem, doesn’t it? It turns out it mostly doesn’t. Most people just live their lives as best they can. We can’t do everything, but we can surely try to do the most important things within the context of the time bucket we’re currently residing in. The time is always here for something. Prioritizing the really essential things for this time lends focus and urgency to the moment, enabling us to seize the day.