Man In Black - Johnny Cash & Another Bedless Night
I'm still in one of the late nights involved in a 12+ hour travel day, we will make it where we are headed in Indiana in a while. I should have been using this ride to catch up on much needed sleep. But since my mind keeps challenging exhaustion to a race, what's one less hour of sleep?
I've had quite a few thoughts I wanted to write out this week, but I'm not sure how resolved any of them are.
One thing on the tip of my tongue... The problem of homelessness and the sad insensitivity of those of us that have a bed (well, I had one for a few nights...) towards those that don't. I'm probably prompted to keep this in mind by nights like this, where I miss my house and I grow to love every minute I can sleep in a bed instead of a vehicle. I'm sure being traveled has heightened my sensitivity and awareness of the needs of the poor. But its shocking to me how easy it is for well-fed people to forget the hungry.
This may seem like a tangent, I have to confess though, I feel a little provoked by the churches closed doors sometimes and the First United Christian Facebook Church world, where Christians along with everyone else can become detached from reality and do their part by reposting whatever Christian chain status is circulating, or mimic the appropriate political statement of the moment, or spend hours each week in online conversations with other Facebook addicted Christians who are often neglecting their real life, family friends and the needs of others to meet their own social needs, in an online social life we build for ourself. Wow, I'll climb off of that soapbox... But I rest my case, how we behave on Facebook reflects a lot on how we are elsewhere. This is a concern.
I started this blog about 2am Thursday Morning somewhere between South Carolina and Shipshewana, Indiana... But now after a long eventful weekend with the Amish and Mennonites, a Johnny Cash Tribute Band, hot pretzels, and a lot of running back and forth with my family between 6 concerts in 3 days while changing from overalls to suits and ties, listening to a lot of banjo, and getting standing ovation in a fancy lil theater and to make it all worthwhile a lot of good Bluegate pie... It's 2am Sunday, and I have to be awake for church in a few hours.
So many things I've been thinking and wanting to express are summed up well in the words of this song by a wiser man than me, Mister Johnny Cash...
"Man In Black"
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.
Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.
I've had quite a few thoughts I wanted to write out this week, but I'm not sure how resolved any of them are.
One thing on the tip of my tongue... The problem of homelessness and the sad insensitivity of those of us that have a bed (well, I had one for a few nights...) towards those that don't. I'm probably prompted to keep this in mind by nights like this, where I miss my house and I grow to love every minute I can sleep in a bed instead of a vehicle. I'm sure being traveled has heightened my sensitivity and awareness of the needs of the poor. But its shocking to me how easy it is for well-fed people to forget the hungry.
This may seem like a tangent, I have to confess though, I feel a little provoked by the churches closed doors sometimes and the First United Christian Facebook Church world, where Christians along with everyone else can become detached from reality and do their part by reposting whatever Christian chain status is circulating, or mimic the appropriate political statement of the moment, or spend hours each week in online conversations with other Facebook addicted Christians who are often neglecting their real life, family friends and the needs of others to meet their own social needs, in an online social life we build for ourself. Wow, I'll climb off of that soapbox... But I rest my case, how we behave on Facebook reflects a lot on how we are elsewhere. This is a concern.
I started this blog about 2am Thursday Morning somewhere between South Carolina and Shipshewana, Indiana... But now after a long eventful weekend with the Amish and Mennonites, a Johnny Cash Tribute Band, hot pretzels, and a lot of running back and forth with my family between 6 concerts in 3 days while changing from overalls to suits and ties, listening to a lot of banjo, and getting standing ovation in a fancy lil theater and to make it all worthwhile a lot of good Bluegate pie... It's 2am Sunday, and I have to be awake for church in a few hours.
So many things I've been thinking and wanting to express are summed up well in the words of this song by a wiser man than me, Mister Johnny Cash...
"Man In Black"
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.
Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.
The Birth Day or The Morning After
The morning after your birthday, no matter how significant it is or isn't in the age ladder. No matter how much of an emotional milestone it may be to you. You have to get up and start over... No matter if your last night was up or down, whether you have a fear of getting older or more likely were wrestling the thoughts of what you have and have not done by this date on the calendar. Apparently in the grand scheme of things dates and age are neither here nor there. It doesn't matter if you are 15 when you make an impact on the world or 25 or 35 or 45, what matters is the impact. What matters is getting up the morning after that day has passed and doing something with it. Never mind that you just suffered through that great landmark that will bring, unbidden, memories that you want, or that you want to get away from. It's all there. The good and the painful. You will face, evaluate, reminisce, value, examine, wrestle, regret, cherish, maybe even long to destroy... But times stamp, and receipt of where you've been thus far, remains.
Whether celebrating the day of your birth, the death of someone, or some thing's death, or whether you're just over analyzing and contemplative, trying to sort out where you are and why. It's all just time, it's only days and history that have passed you, not all your chances. Each day is a chance... If we'll take it. Each morning is a choice, every time your feet hit the ground, you have to choose where they'll walk & how your pages in history are written. When you stop counting by years, regrets, missed opportunities and what was or might have been. You'll start to find the comfort the morning after can bring. And the hope, not only in the future, but in your present. Suddenly, what you have behind you in experience, is a wealth of wisdom to build off of. And this morning is more than livable, it's what you'll continue making the most of, whether you've had plans of changing the world since your 5th birthday or if it just started today when you realized this morning is your chance.
Whether celebrating the day of your birth, the death of someone, or some thing's death, or whether you're just over analyzing and contemplative, trying to sort out where you are and why. It's all just time, it's only days and history that have passed you, not all your chances. Each day is a chance... If we'll take it. Each morning is a choice, every time your feet hit the ground, you have to choose where they'll walk & how your pages in history are written. When you stop counting by years, regrets, missed opportunities and what was or might have been. You'll start to find the comfort the morning after can bring. And the hope, not only in the future, but in your present. Suddenly, what you have behind you in experience, is a wealth of wisdom to build off of. And this morning is more than livable, it's what you'll continue making the most of, whether you've had plans of changing the world since your 5th birthday or if it just started today when you realized this morning is your chance.
You asked for it...: Danieles Birthday
Jessica's Thoughts on my birthday....
You asked for it...: Danieles Birthday: I have found my calling in life, it is to supply perfect costume ideas for any and all people based on book characters. ITs the most fun I'v...
You asked for it...: Danieles Birthday: I have found my calling in life, it is to supply perfect costume ideas for any and all people based on book characters. ITs the most fun I'v...
You asked for it...: Oh Irene...
You asked for it...: Oh Irene...: The thing is, there are these amazing waves all up the beach probably because of the hurricane or whatever. Last night Michal, Faith and I ...
It's all quite angular
One could only assume, that everyone has an angle
If you live long enough, every paradox will convince you
Geometry is not the only proof, all things are congruous, consistent
Loves trappings are innumerable, we don’t have to concede
If there ever is a life where I am completely happy, or content
It will be in the acceptance that all imperfections work for the good
Some nights I find that world, in dark blue skies as stars rise
I have always found it in the ocean, in trees, in seasons, in trust
I am not ashamed of how many times trust has been broken
It brings more character, makes me look innocent, frees the betrayer
Soon, I’ll learn to speak plainly, truth will be the only angle
The unsaid will no longer bring disconnect but completion
Things are according to plan, if we let hindsight work in us
I interrupt this broadcast to bring you Carl Sandburg
All day long in fog and wind,
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.
My boy, he went to sea, long and long ago,
Curls of brown were slipping underneath his cap,
He looked at me from blue and steely eyes;
Natty, straight and true, he stepped away,
My boy, he went to sea.
All day long in fog and wind,
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.
My boy, he went to sea, long and long ago,
Curls of brown were slipping underneath his cap,
He looked at me from blue and steely eyes;
Natty, straight and true, he stepped away,
My boy, he went to sea.
All day long in fog and wind,
The waves have flung their beating crests
Against the palisades of adamant.
Shake me I'm holding
Stifle me, before I let go
I've been living too long off of the old
Things you left, things you opened
All you possibly never intended to finish
When I'm better I'm my own woman
Sinking in memory I'm human
Recalling your best I'm caught again
Knowing your faults, too compassionate
Even brick driveways have their cracks
All breathtaking joy has a drawback
Love promises pain, signs away your rights
hopes and dreams, into equally broken hands
What little I know when wisdom is called for
What intellect lacks understanding swallows
You're a pinpoint of light, a garland, but not a sun
I'll wish I was yours while knowing I am safer not
I've been living too long off of the old
Things you left, things you opened
All you possibly never intended to finish
When I'm better I'm my own woman
Sinking in memory I'm human
Recalling your best I'm caught again
Knowing your faults, too compassionate
Even brick driveways have their cracks
All breathtaking joy has a drawback
Love promises pain, signs away your rights
hopes and dreams, into equally broken hands
What little I know when wisdom is called for
What intellect lacks understanding swallows
You're a pinpoint of light, a garland, but not a sun
I'll wish I was yours while knowing I am safer not
Wounded Knee
As I'm coming to the end of Summer, to summarize some of my thoughts on the last part of this trip, one subject was on my heart a lot, and my mind. Sometimes a song, a phrase, a lapse into the poetic cover more than an essay would. I can't give you compassion, knowledge or understanding of things that may have to be experienced for yourself. But I can try...
A refresher,
A history lesson for you,
A true story
A refresher,
A history lesson for you,
A true story
Wounded Knee
I took a drive, out on Two, out to Wounded Knee last night,
I didn’t cry but I was hurt and I was broke in circles,
I wasn’t lost I tried to find, where we lost our way and life…
I took a rock from the foot of an old grave there,
to fill a hole I just found in our race where the blood leaks out,
a loss of blood a loss of truth, a loss of who we are, who are we?
I found a path thru the dark, down to open spaces,
It was cold and it was dry and it was full of mud and lies,
just behind a line where many names where signed, where many children died…
Hey Jah... (the Lakota name for God)
This is just a song I wrote during some of my time on Native American reservations and following the trail of tears, studying the history, the injustice & generational oppression over the years. I can't put into words the emotions, the bloodshed, the heartbreak, the hopelessness & the horrible poverty that make up the full color version of the stories, but someone has to start somewhere
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