Monthly Archives: July 2012

I Love You Dave

I had the opportunity to tell you that on the phone last week when we talked.

That would make you, my dad, my uncle, my brother and Bob Long, Jr. the only men I’ll probably ever say those words to.

Now you’ll never hear those words again.

Yesterday, Monday, you went and had a heart attack that you didn’t survive.

I can’t even begin to tell you how pissed off I am.

We were supposed to go fishing this weekend.

You couldn’t wait till next Monday, could you.

I can already hear your infectious laugh, that one that comes from your gut and I already know you’re response…

“Well now, ain’t that a bitch.”

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I imagine you yesterday, suddenly popping up in heaven, standing in front of your good friend Jesus.

You stand there a few seconds, blink a few times and say…

“What the hell man?”

Then you both stand there looking at each other, blink a few times and burst out laughing.

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This sucks Dave.

I have my memories of you.

Some photos.

I’ll be downloading The Book of Dave in order to have your words, the words we spoke to each other so often, the words I rely on as the inspiration I need at times.

I’ll always have those.

I know your voice.

I’ll read them in your voice.

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Now don’t forget, when you’re hanging around up there with Jesus, looking down, laughing and making fun of me…

Make sure you lean over now and then and let him know that yes, I’m a little rough around the edges, I’m a little more blunt than most can handle, but I mean well.

And try not to laugh too much when you say that.

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I’ll see you some day.

We’ll go fishing.

You can bring you’re buddy Jesus along.

I hear he knows a thing or two about fishing.

It’ll be fun.

Till then…

I love ya man.

Music to Fish and Wander By

I get songs stuck in my head.
For awhile, this one has been stuck there.
It will open in another window…

Donovan, Hurdy Gurdy Man

Thrown like a star in my vast sleep
I open my eyes to take a peep

To find that I was by the sea
Gazing with tranquillity.

Like my words, my outings have been few. I think.

I’ve lost track. I have a few pictures that helps me remember.

The heat has been repressive, unbearable at times. Standing in the water of the river does nothing to alleviate that feeling. If nothing, it makes matters worse.

The water is low, murky, at times weed choked.

The fish are cooperative, at times. Most times not. Dipping a hand in water is not a refreshing sensation. It too makes matters worse.

‘Twas then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Came singing songs of love,

Then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Came singing songs of love.

Water isn’t supposed to do this. It’s supposed to be refreshing, invigorating and inviting. An opportunity to cool the core, achieve balance.

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.

Histories of ages past
Unenlightened shadows cast
Down through all eternity
The crying of humanity.

‘Tis then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Comes singing songs of love,
Then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Comes singing songs of love.

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy.
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang.
Here comes the roly poly man and he’s singing songs of love,
Roly poly, roly poly, roly poly, poly he sang.

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang,
Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy he sang

This song came out in 1968, I was 12.
I had a paper route, I always carried a transistor radio with me.
I would turn up this song till the little speaker vibrated.

Even then I thought the words and the music were diametrically opposed.
Singing songs of love with the music being so ominous and his singing tone so dry.

I always wondered about the electric guitar and who played, only I never bothered looking it up.

Found out while doing this, it’s probably Jimmy Page.

Makes sense to me.

The Weekend from Hell

I’m too exhausted to sit here filling in the captions and blanks with words.

It’s been a long weekend and it really isn’t over yet.

It all started Friday night around 9 PM when the sky gods decided they no longer liked Yorkville.

Then proceeded to try to destroy it.

They didn’t succeed.

The pictures are in chronological order starting right after the storm. The shot of the car with the tree on it is our neighbor. We used to rent that house. She found out why we never parked in that spot.

Never did trust that tree.

The rest of the shots are from all around the house I’m renting now.

It was a mess.

You could imagine when it all started, the power out, us running around in the dark trying to close windows and all this started coming down around us just a few feet away.

The sound was incredible.

Odd part was, we never panicked. I’m sure we did all the wrong things from a safety standpoint and I got yelled at quite a bit when I went outside in the middle of it all just to watch all hell break loose.

I love those moments.

Some pictures, okay, 35 of them, then off to bed. I need sleep desperately.

Oh yeah, the tree in the wires is still sitting there almost 72 hours later.

It’s become the neighborhood sculpture.

My poor grill. It was perfectly seasoned after all these years. It will be awhile before I can afford to replace it.