Tuesday, June 24, 2008


Song for Liberty

As sung by Nana Mouskouri, a fitting song for the upcoming July 4th holiday:

When you sing I'm singing with you Liberty.
When you cry I cry with you in sorrow.
When you suffer I'm praying for you Liberty,
For your struggles will bring us a new tomorrow.

Days of sad darkness and fear must one day crumble
For the force of your kindness and love make them tremble.
When you sing I'm singing with you Liberty.
In the void of your absence I keep searching for you.

Who are you dream, illusion or just reality?
Faith, ideal, desire, revolution?
I believe you're the symbol of our humanity
Lighting up the world for eternity.
I can see why men die to defend you,
Try to guard, to protect and attend you!

When you sing I'm singing with you Liberty
With your tears or your joys, I love you!
Let us sing and rejoice, make our own history,
Songs of hope with one voice guide us to victory

Liberty, Liberty!

(Verdi / P. Delanoƫ / C. Lemesle / J. Johns)

To hear the song, click on the radio station in the sidebar and listen in Windows Media Player. It will be available sometime tomorrow. I highly recommend the album "The Classical Nana" by Nana Mouskouri; she is one of the more approachable sopranos you'll ever hear. "Gloria Eterna," set to Handel's Suite No. 11 - Sarabande, is simply superb.


Monday, June 23, 2008


If I had to post a photo...

that expressed my life over the past couple of months, it would be a picture of my navel. Fortunately for you all, that is a photo that will not be posted; many years of beer and food in copious quantities have not been kind to my navel. I have, however, spent an inordinate amount of time engaged in gazing at my navel recently; that is, when not engaged in contemplation of all things ozone.

My rut is beginning to resemble a Habitrail.


Friday, June 06, 2008


More fun!

Getting to be a nightly thing...


Wednesday, June 04, 2008


It was a dark and stormy night...

Looking North -

I love thunderstorms!

Tuesday, June 03, 2008


Have been in and out of town...

Unfortunately, a condition that will last the summer.

Lots of pictures in camera memory; makeup posting to follow...



Just arrived...


One of my all time favorite songs - Terrapin Station is my favorite Dead album.



Quick update...sorta...

My motorcycle is inop. I am NOT happy. My garage currently has two dead bikes in it and I'm stuck driving my old Honda Accord, which air conditioning is also inop.

My truck has a flat tire; not too inconvenient as I drive it very rarely. At $100.00 a fill-up and 10 mpg, I probably won't be driving it much at all. Sometimes you just need a truck, though.

My lawn tractor has a flat and a bad battery.

I'm currently taking a conversational Spanish course. I long since forgot everything I learned in HS Spanish, except that Sra. Patton was kinda hot. She once beat the crap out of me with two yardsticks taped together. I was in the process of trying to beat the crap out of another student, so I probably had it coming - although I might've quit hitting him sooner if she hadn't been pissing me off by whacking me.

So, I blame her.

Hard to imagine nowadays, but back in the day teachers used to carry weapons in school openly. Paddles with holes drilled in them, yardsticks and rulers, etc. Some of them were proficient at causing pain. I had one teacher who loved to take his paddle out - a fearsomely carved and drilled device designed for a two-handed swing - and play with it while lecturing or stalking the classroom while we were working on in-class assignments. It was certainly an attention grabber.

There was a 6th grade English teacher who taught me verb conjugation and sentence parsing through the seat of my pants, skills I retain to this day. Maybe if I'd had him for Spanish instead of Sra. Patton...

Mind you, this was a public school.

Spanish spoken by a fat old white guy with a flat Midwestern accent and an inability to trill an "r" is no doubt a source of amusement for native speakers. Turnabout really is fair play; I can now fail to communicate in two languages. I can't understand their English and they can't understand my Spanish. Life is good.

At one time - decades ago - I spoke passable German; now not so much. It's funny, but when I try to cast sentences en Espanol, especially using numbers, the German words pop out unbidden.

I also don't speak French worth a crap. Luckily I remember so little of it that I don't even try, much to the relief of Francophiles everywhere, I'm sure.

I should stick to moderate drinking and naive provincialism; it's much easier. Ja, ich hablo Aleman!



Subscribe to Posts [Atom]