a shadow your seeing, that he's chasing

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun, It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run And but for the sky there are no fences facin'. And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind, I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're Seein' that he's chasing. HEY

what a day that was

David Byrne was in my head this past Sautrday, and "Ohhhhhh ......what a day that was". All that could happen , did happen. Let's recap in chronological order. The Pods beats the Cards to extend that series another day.....good.......Navy travels to Colorado and whoops up on the Air Force, paving the way to another Commander-in-chief Trophy.....Good GOOD...........The Irish wake up and spank Stanford....good........The Mighty Dteroit Tigers Rise up and Kick the Yankees Butt, thus eliminating the evil empire form the 2006 Postseason....FANTASTIC, Ode to Joy, such bliss...........The Rangers beat the Hated Flyers in a 13 round shootout to open the season 2-0....Good.......The Metropolitans complete the sweep of the hated Dodgers, thus advancing to the NLCS........EXCELLENT........and oh yeah, last but not least, the icelanders loose again, falling to 0-2 to start the Year.........Not Bad..........what a wonderful feeliong to wake up on Sunday to a Yankee Free Oktober..........and for good measure, the Giants Roll the Redskins and the Jets get blown out 41-0.............I am a Happy Camper this day.

Steve Siller Tunnel to towers run

if anyone is interested, here is the Prayer of St Francis that was recited prior to the tunnel to towers run yesterday, it was Steve Sillers favorite prayer.


Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master,grant that I may not so much seekto be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

box of rain...more thoughts

heres what Phil had to say:

Lesh: And at that time, my dad was dying of cancer, and I would drive out to visit with him, in the hospital, and also at the nursing home he spent his final days in, and after Bob gave me the lyrics, on the way out there I would practice singing the song. I sort of identified that song with my dad and his approaching death. The lyrics that he produced were so apt, so perfect. It was very moving, very moving for me to experience that during the period of my dad's passing. I felt like singing it in other situations similar to that since then.

here is what Mr Hunter had to say:

Hunter: He'd just written these lovely changes and put 'em on a tape on a tape for me, and he sang along (scat singing of melody)—so the phrasing was all there, I think I went through it two or three times, writing as fast as I could, and that song was written. I guess it was written for a young man whose father was dying.

here is a letter to Hunter and his reply:

Dear Robert,
After reading through a number of Mailbags posted at your web site, I finally decided that it was time to contribute a thought and a question.
My wife (who is not a deadhead) especially likes that song. Maybe it is because we live in San Francisco and there is a reference to the Mission. When I play it she always starts dancing.

Robert, if you would, please tell me what you were thinking when you penned the phrase "box of rain." What, for you, does a box of rain represent. I am not asking for the meaning of the song, or for you to explain the song to me -- I spent plenty of time on my own doing that. I am just terribly curious how you came to choose that image.
Well, I won't take any more bandwith. There is much I would like to say, but I've said it in my mind for so long now, it feels funny and self-conscious trying to put onto "paper."
Regards,Charlie Bass


Charlie,

well, I don't like to do this, since it encourages others to ask about what I had in mind when I wrote a song, and mostly you'd need to have my mind to understand even approximately what I had in it.
By "box of rain," I meant the world we live on, but "ball" of rain didn't have the right ring to my ear, so box it became, ..........and I don't know who put it there.
[rh]

thoughts on box of rain

one of the more beautiful songs in the dead repertoire, happy, sad, thought provoking, all at the same time depending on the listener. I do know that Phil used to sing the lyrics to his dying father in the hospital. the last line is the one that has always stopped me in my tracks......"such a long, long time to be gone and a short time to be there" .....stop and think about it.....when we are gone, we are going to "be gone" for a long long time........and our time spent here on earth in comparison is soooo short.......we all have someone close to us who has "been gone" for a long, long time.....and when you try to remember that person........it seems like they were here for such a short time............. we are mere specs on the portrait on the universe, and yet we tend to obsess about every second, hour, day , week, month of our lives...........it's such a short time to be here............but such a long, long time to be gone.......I think we should probably spend more time obsessing about finding a nice place to spend that eternity, that long long time that is to come, and less time obsessing about short days spent here on earth......just a thought.

back to zero

back to meltdown......as Mick Jagger would spout. and so i find myself back at the desk acoss the street from death, next to the toxic Deutsche bank building, just biding time until the next shoe drops.......not a lot of fun in the sun in lower manhattan these days......a lot of "ancient vacant streets too dead for dreaming".....somedays ...especially in September...the wind howls down these streets and gives new meaning to the phrase Ghost Town......I swear sometimes when I am in Suspenders I can still hear people partying from the night of 9/10/01........even though the bar is usually empty.......not scary, just weird........I hope I am paying some sort of pennance by being forced to work here again........it's a vicous cycle......you try so hard throughout the year to go about your business without obsessing over the pit across the street or constantly thinking about the events of that day.......and on those rare occasions when you can block it out of your head, you find yourself consumed with guilt for not thinking about them....every good lunch , every cold beer break, every 10 minutes of peace watching a ballgame in o'haras is followed by a walk past the pit and feeling guilty for moving on.........i sure hope whatever hasn't killed me will somehow make me stronger....but I don't see how.......

noggin bloggin for band names

I put on my old noodle cap and came up with the following:

The Noodle Cappers
Brother Esau's fables
Cassidy's Wheel
Kites on Ice
Flight of the Seabirds
Pretty Young on Tuesday
Bound to Cover
Stone Jack Ballers
Masons Handicapped adult children
Uncle jerry's band of imposters
Calamity's waiting
Mother American Night
the NEWs Sweater Night Ramblers of Oyster County and Beyond

Murphy's of Rumson

hello my faithful readers....sorry for the sojourn from posting , but rest assured I am Back.......had a delightful 5 day respite from the daily grind......had many visitors over the extended weekend.......local residents still scratching their heads that 3 sons of Brooklyn......Woods, Mcevoy and Kane made their debut at Murphy's of Rumson before Donny Hoff (Monmouth County class of 2000) could step in the door and have his inaugural libation.....Dano and Chico ran the shuffleboard table too....Bayrdige Ringers no doubt.......big roto draft tonight.........and Saturday Brings the 74street Block Party...........need a new name for Fr Fatness......I'll get cracking on that ......dano , put on yer tinking cap too....

esua

always an interesting one......obviously some sort of link to Vietnam , but also very biblical....wish I could go back in time and see it live with Jerry alongside one more time......I think I only saw it once over the years....it definitely has not surfaced in the post Jerry world.....I always thought about about 5th avenue Jim ( the guy that walked Bayridge with a quart of bud shouting obsenities) ......when I heard that lyric "shadow boxing the apocolypse and wandering the land" ....I think if I ever loose it.....I mean REALLLY Loose it........off the deep end material, not just slightly touched in the head....I too might like to wander the land drinking 40 ounce bottles of Bud , shouting at the moon and frightening passersby.........soemthing to look forward to in my old age...........maybe the new Sweater Night Ramblers can add this to their setlist by FebBREWary.......

Hoboken Train

Dude used to ride the rails with us to Newark, but one can of beer a week was too much for him....whaaaaaa........get DANO into Margoland.....he's the next natural

working class hero

Chaz looked right at home on the 6:19 out of Hoboken last night, bag of iced down beers at his feet, very comfortable in that 5 seater, Wally Pip Whalen may have trouble cracking the starting lineup ......especially with Pat Molloy getting a parking space come Sept 1st. If chazzie lands this gig at the Javitts center....LOOKOUT............Collins may even take a par time job , just so he can ride the rails with the working class heros.........unless of course we hit Mega last night, then all bets are off.

giacomo revisited

hindsight is 20/20 my friends, but still....with all the deadheads we know.....why were we not fully entranced in the Giacomo Camp.....see below from the Grateful Dead Annotated lyrics

Thanks to Adam Wasserman for the following information:
Iko Iko (as well as other songs such as Big Chief, Hey Pokey-Way, New Suit, Fire Water) has a very specific meaning. They are all New Orleans Mardi Gras songs about the Black Indians. Black Indians are parade crewes (tribes) that parade through the New Orleans streets on Mardi Gras wearing extravagant ceremonial Indian clothes. They face off when they meet and have battles of clothing, dancing, and singing. The Spy Boy is a ceremonial position (the front runner who scouts out other tribes to do battle with) as is the Flag Boy, Wild Man, and Big Chief. Friends and family who follow are in the "second line" and are therefore second liners. So lines like "My spy boy to your spy boy, I'm gonna set your tail on fire" are ceremonial challenges to the other tribe."Joc-a-mo-fee-no-ah-nah-nay, Joc-a-mo-fee-nah-nay" is a ritual chant used by the Mardi Gras Indians which has been around for so long the words are no longer clearly distinguishable, and it has a well understood meaning of its own. Very, very loosely translated it signifies "we mean business" or "don't mess with us". Originally it would have been Cajun (a liberal mix of French and English) and literally translates to "the fool we will not play today".
One additional comment on the origins/meaning of "Iko":
"Iko and un day are Creole corruptions of the Gambian call ago! [pay attention] and the expected response, which is amay! [I/we are listening]. Chuck Davis of the African- American Dance Ensemble, which is based here in Durham, uses this device ubiquitously when he acts as Griot (master storyteller/master of ceremonies). When he calls "ago!" everyone is supposed to shout "amay!"--no matter what else is going on. He likes to slip this into the middle of various narrations just to make sure folks are paying attention. He also uses it as an introductory, "calm down" sort of exercise before he starts to speak, or to quiet the crowd if it gets noisy while he's speaking."

the full court press is on

now that we are less than 30 days from the 9/11 anniversary you will see a blitzkrieg of coverage by the media. eveyone human interest story, every family dealing with the aftermath, every story about rescue workers divorces and widows living lavishly or anything having anything to do with that day will be drug up and stuffed in our faces. Count how many pictures of the towers in flames you see between now and Sep 11 in the News and Post....better yet, avoid the papers all together and you'll sleep better.

question of the day

due to a breakdown in communications in the County of Monmouth there is no "question of the day" today. instead we ask readers to submit their favorite "you know who" humurous anecdote

jerry revisted

........I remember it like it was yesterday.... The night before Jerry died I saw Bob Weir and Rob Wassermen in Central park.......I was working for Waterhouse in 44 Wall Street when I heard....I immediately went to the Blarney Stone , ordered a cold one and a played Dead on the Juke box for an hour or so.
When I got back to the office they thought someone in my family had died ( in a way they were right) because I recd 15 to 20 personal phone calls.......my desk was littered with yellow stickies......Call Mac, Call Dano, call Donn, call Cogs, don't call Rog , Call Rocco etc etc.........a lot of people thought of me when they heard the news I guess.........went out in Bayridge and tied one on that night too. think I'll tie one on tonight. listening to the Dead and looking at my Tug Mcgraw scrapbook.

terror plot busted

I sent this letter to the editor of the NY Post today, let's see if they print it.

Remember the outrage at the Federal Government listening to private phonecalls of U.S. Citizens. Remember the rhetoric and outrage about invasion of privacy and violation of civil rights. As if a having citizenship magically precludes a person from committing an act of terror against their own nation. Thank God Scotland Yard did not fall victim to this political correctness, thank God they continued to profile British nationals.