NAVY

God help the Mullahs if the United States Navy is unleashed in the current hostage crisis in iran. We have been on the sidelines during the Iraq occupation, we are chomping at the bit to get into the fray. The time has come to reduce iran to rubble. The Dems are waving white flags and insisting on announcing to the enemy that if they were in charge we would have already surrendered. I hope the voting public remembers this come the 08 election. Someday , somewhere in the world , some piece of shiite will be encouraged to perservere because the Americans are on the verge of surrender.....disgusting, shameful, embarassing. Take iran out of the equation today , and you will see how peaceful things will become in iraq. allow this stool ahmadinejad to stay in power and we will truly have a World War on our hands before 2010.

Oh yeah.....if lundquist keeps playing like he has, the Rangers will win the CUP.....this is a hockey website you know...

FYI.......anybody know anything about Whitaker Securities ? i'm hearing tales through the grapevine.

snix recap

Cross the ocean to some distant land
We'll reach the end,
we'll all be singin' and we'll all be friends
Back where it all begins

D. Betts



With a thundering base chord and the pounding of the Drums, The New Sweater Night Ramblers punctuated SNIX’s Extrication from the vice grip hold of 11220. Welcome back to 11209. ( I do not want to restart that drinking debate…as some of us have been talking about the same things for over 20 years now) After a 1500 odd day stay, and some of those days were very odd, The Swetaer Night Family began it’s matriculation down fifth Avenue in a Baton Death March like journey to the VZ Bridge. Yes, there may be additional stops along the way , but the Trickle to Monmouth County is gaining the momentum of a Tsunami….it is inevitable that Sweater Night will some day call the Garden State “HOME”.

A tip of the hat to Johnny News and the lads of this K of C local, They serviced our libation needs in a friendly and economically pleasing way. Early reports stated that we topped out at approx 35 skaters, and never more than a 10 second wait on your refill…..


Sweater Nite 9 got off to a slow start as each skater was asked to supply a saliva sample for a DNA test in the Danielle Lynn Smith paternity sweepstakes……last year we took a shot at mega millions, this year we tried the Bahamas Lotto. Once our brothers of the Talmud from Rabinowitz, Rabinowitz and Rabinowitz finished with the legal proceedings, the party started to jump.


It was hard to tell if it was Sweater Night 9 , or a ST. Regis alumni gathering. One lucky skater won an official ST. Regis dilploma in the 50/50 raffle. Sad to say that same diploma was spotted on ebay selling for $49.99 …….one more sign that the value of a good , honest education is dropping in this country.


On a bizarre note, the Port Authority Police stopped you know who in his White Ford Bronco as he tried to cross the Goethals Bridge at 7:00 P.M on 2/16. It seems Raj was wearing a wig, trench coat and diapers…. and carrying pepper spray, a BB gun and directions to the Knights of Columbus. Strange Indeed…..one can only wonder what type of horror would have unfolded if he was not apprehended. Ironically he was busted because he was going through the EZ Pass lane, but he had a doctored, empty can of Busch Beer taped to his windshield where his Pass should have resided……always trying to save a buck I guess. When word of his shocking demise reached headquarters of his knotzee bank, their official response was …..”Baby? What is dis Baby ? Da fuhrer never said Baby!! “ authorities were further confounded by this.

Police were flooding the local roadways after a report out of Philadelphia that Coach Reid and his Boys were out for a joy ride……..Bags of Smack aplenty ….pointing pistols…, causing accidents and making terroristic threats…..just another Friday in the city of “brotherly” love…..Darryl Dawkins would be proud…….Andy Reid is expected to meet with the Flyers organization to discuss Bobby Clarke’s vacancy after his leave of absence from the Eagles expires.


Until he extends the circle of compassion to all living things, man will not himself find peace.,,,,,,,,,Albert Schweitzer


It is with an exrtremely heavy heart that we acknowledge the passing of a True Champion by the name of Barbaro. Horse racing scribes from coast to coast told similar tales of the “magic spell” this horse had over the country. In the first week after his surgery the U of Penn website received over 1.5 million get well email wishes. My horse racing heart and my love of the sport was taken from me on third Saturday in May 2006….I will still go to the track, and I will still make my donations at the window, but I doubt I will ever feel the passion I use to hold for the equine races. We may someday see another Triple Crown winner, we may someday see the track records of Secretariat fall, but we will never see the nation captivated the way we were with BARBARO………..may he rest in peace. Below is an excerpt from a column that Ray Kerrison penned for the NY post.


My most vivid memory of Barbaro was not at the Derby, but a few days before the Preakness. We had all gone to Fair Hill in Maryland, where he was being trained by Michael Matz, to see him gallop around the wood-chip track.Matz then turned him out in a circular grass pen near the barn. Barbaro promptly dropped to the ground, rolled over on his back, and kicked his legs in the air, luxuriating in the sheer joy of the exercise. He reminded me of a little boy paddling and splashing at the beach.Who could have believed that within a matter of hours, this same Barbaro would be fighting for his life, the bones of his right hind hoof shattered in three places, after galloping less than a furlong out of the starting gate in the Preakness?

I truly hope my sweater night brethren felt compassion when they learned of his passing.

Although it appears quite likely that President Bush will pardon Scooter Libby before he leaves office ( and rightfully so ) , Sweater Night fans need not worry…..the CIC does not have the authority to pardon Roger, the dudester will serve out eternity on the forever banned list for crimes committed against hockey humanity….the butcher of Butter Scotch Plains will never again see the light of Sweater Night Day ………..Sweater Night Day? That can’t be right
As for the Hockey end of business……once again the gang showed their collective creativity with some stunning Sweaters. Five out of the original six were in attendance…
Not surprisingly, the Hated Red Wings were the only ones missing…our good friend from Hockeytown via the Bambino Pub was a “no-show”. While a blind eye has been turned in the past, I must state early and often, that for the Gala next year….SNX , No Sweater will equate to No Admittance.

Much like the NBA All-Star festivities, Sweater Night is evolving into a weekends worth of fan friendly entertainment and activities for the whole family…..maybe not. SNIX plus 1 , awoke to the blasting of the Grateful Dead and the washing down of PBR’s at the un-official headquarters on Ovington Avenue. A few inebriated scragglers skated their way down to PC’s for a lunch of Champions and quite possibly the GREATEST Ham sandwich ever made. Slowly but surely they trickled into the home of SN2K , and settled in to watch the Broadway blueshirts battle their Philadelphia rivals. And the party did not stop there!! a few of the Garden State natives packed up the car with roadies and paid a visit to the Steak Exchange of Hazlett…….quite possibly the host for SN XIII on 4/1/2011. ( the ride home was a real snore though).

The Offices of Sweater Night were also swamped with a deluge of telegrams leading up to the big night, I would like to share some of the more interesting ones.

“ we are talking about drinking beer at a Hockey Party….Not Bombing Tokyo “ General Bob Knight

“ you can’t even bet on Hockey anymore without loosing”
Chaz Higgins , Head linesmen

“I DON'T FEEL NO WAYS TIRED from drinking at Sweater Night”
Hillary Rotten Clinton

“Dude….I don’t want to kill you, but I have to kill you “
Steve McEvoy Circa 1983 …delayed receipt

Anyway gang, if you missed it…….well it missed you right back. But fear not, for by the time you receive this letter we should be approx 330 days and counting to the Gala to end all galas ( SNX….so much more than Tibetian mineral water). Until then, please continue to drink at an accelerated pace , please check out the blog and update your home addresses from time to time…..I recd a few letters back without a forwarding address.(Rogers letter was donated to the Museum of Gullible-itis in Scotch Plains NJ.)
Enjoy the Spring …and continue to Lace Up, Gear Up , and ALWAYS.DRINK UP !!!

And a Happy Saint Patricks’s Day to one and all ……Slainte’


Thomas P O’Dowd
President & Founder

drop that puck....

after much trepidation and anticipation , sweater night has arrived on a frost covered morn. Icicles clining to every branch, hoping to outlast the skaters of brooklyn, but the Sun Gods have other plans.....soon we shall be off to Hunters to attack their supply of beef, beer and exactas......soon enough we too shall know....the hell where youth and laughter go.....lace up, gear up and for God's sake....DRINK UP!..............it's destiny before us, and history awaits us.....live hard, live fast.......

Quad to check out blog today !!!

excitement around the Sweater Night BLOG headquarters reached a fever pitch on Thursday when it was learned the Great Quadlibo of Staten Island aka Bduffy718.....would be perusin these very same pages.........we may have to sneak over to Morans with Chazzy Higgins for a few tails ...just to calm the nerves.....

where is sweater night 9 ?

the world wonders.

T minus 3 days and couting

4:00 am.m and all is well.....or is it?
no, nien, nada, nyet, ichsnay..........
one bobby van sized obstacle down.....and one to go.
siempre su nada....apprenden la gusta..........
dasdas.

lyrics of the day

a poem from WWI days....very appropo with the recent events in iraq

Siegfried Sassoon,
Suicide in the Trenches


I KNEW a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
. . . .
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

lyrics twist

so far away,
doesn't anybody drink in one place anymore,
it would be so fine to see a case at my door,
but it doesn't help to know , that your so
far away.

caole king?

a sad farewell

this is Ray Keerison article on the passing of a True champion

January 30, 2007 -- THE long vigil is over. The painful, meticulously loving struggle to save the life of the brilliant and gallant Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro has ended in heartbreak. The champ is dead.
After six months of guarded optimism leading an expectant world to believe he would pull through, Barbaro's condition suddenly deteriorated when he developed a deep sub-solar abscess in the foot of his severely damaged right leg that required emergency surgery Saturday night. Less than two days later it was all over. He was euthanized yesterday morning at the University of Pennsylvania's New Bolton Center.
The bitter, crushing irony of his fate is that he died, not from the bone-cracking injuries to the right hind hoof suffered in his horrendous breakdown in the Preakness on May 20, but from complications from a disease, laminitis, that subsequently infected his perfectly sound left hind hoof and both front feet which, in turn, caused the recent abscess that struck the courageous colt last week.
It could be said of Barbaro that the operation was a success - his injured hoof was healing nicely - but the patient died. Thus ends the brief, meteoric career and promise of a racehorse that seemed destined for glory, if not immortality. Now, we will never know how good he really was. We are left only to guess what might have been.
Barbaro was a rare and special thoroughbred. The wider public knew him only for a couple of weeks leading up to the Preakness, but in that time he fired their imaginations and captured their interest as few horses ever have.
It's hard to explain the ingredients in the Barbaro phenomenon. It wasn't that he was undefeated or that he won the Derby in dashing style - we could all name a dozen Derby winner heroes.
There was something about Barbaro that horsemen and the public recognized early. For want of a better word, I call it magic. He had about him an aura. Some people have it. A few horses have it. You can't define it or describe it, but you know it when you see it.
Barbaro pulled into Churchill Downs at the end of April to contest the Kentucky Derby with an unblemished racing record, always a big attention-grabber in the racing business. He had won all of his five starts, the last a hard-fought victory in the Florida Derby.

A good record, but not earth-shattering. Around the barns in the days leading up to the Derby, Barbaro suddenly emerged as the star of the show. People spoke of him in hushed tones. Here, they dared to suggest, was a Triple Crown winner. We all got the message. On Derby eve, I described him as a colt "of such soaring potential, he could be the new Seattle Slew."
Barbaro did not win the Derby. He blitzed it, thundering to the wire so far ahead of the field with such a flourish that the spectacle seemed surreal. He was simply sensational. Overnight, he was the talk of the world.
My most vivid memory of Barbaro was not at the Derby, but a few days before the Preakness. We had all gone to Fair Hill in Maryland, where he was being trained by Michael Matz, to see him gallop around the wood-chip track.
Matz then turned him out in a circular grass pen near the barn. Barbaro promptly dropped to the ground, rolled over on his back, and kicked his legs in the air, luxuriating in the sheer joy of the exercise. He reminded me of a little boy paddling and splashing at the beach.
Who could have believed that within a matter of hours, this same Barbaro would be fighting for his life, the bones of his right hind hoof shattered in three places, after galloping less than a furlong out of the starting gate in the Preakness?
The memory of that day, even now, is almost too stressful to contemplate. The sight of Barbaro flailing in his torment, the rush of trackmen to his side, jockey Edgar Prado embracing a stranger in his distress, the horse ambulance, the siren-blasting dash to the veterinary hospital in Pennsylvania, the medical bulletins, but most of all, the hope, the fervent hope that somehow Barbaro would beat the odds.
It was not to be. Even as his crumbled right leg healed beautifully during his early recovery and before his latest setback over the weekend, he contracted the deadly laminitis in his good left hoof. Dr. Dean Richardson, chief of surgery at the New Bolton Center, had no choice but to put him down.
Life's a mystery. Barbaro's trainer, Michael Matz, and his wife, Dorothy, were involved in a horrendous air crash in Iowa in 1989, when 112 passengers perished. The Matzes rescued three children from the smoking inferno and walked away with hardly a scratch.
But Barbaro took just one bad step on the racetrack and paid for it with his life. Leave it to the philosophers to explain. All we know is that Barbaro was a distinguished horse in every way - in breeding, talent, performance, demeanor. He was calm in surgery, patient under adversity, gallant in the fight for his life.
His passing has made the racing world a very sad place.

barbaro

I do not expect anyone to understand why this matters so much to me, but it does. It was with a painfully heavy heart that I learned that the beautiful champion that was Barbaro was euthanized earlier this morning. That Horse showed more life in the final strecth of the KY Derby than some people do in a lifetime……and despite all of his surgeries over the past 8 months, he was still fighting. He never gave up, his owners did out of compassion.
Maybe I am drawing comparisons to my own life, maybe I saw something in this horse that struck a nerve, maybe I foresaw what was to come when he went down at the Preakness. Barbaro was hurt approx the same time my mom started showing signs of her illness, they battled together, they had ups and downs , side by side, and now Babaro is gone. My Mother was a horseplayer, she frequented the track her whole life, from Belmont to Monmouth. she thrived on Derby Day and proudly wore her Bonnets and dressed to the 9's....even for a back yard Party. I hope she lives to see the derby this year, but if she does not , she may very well have seen the last great Champion of our lifetime........I know I will never become this attached to a horse again.
Don't take my word for it, log on to U Penn website and read some of the hundreds of thousands emails that people sent to the Horse.
http://www.vet.upenn.edu/newsandevents/news/Barbaro.htm

who is scarier

The KING of burger KIng or Ronald Mcdonald..........that topic was narrowly adverted for the time being on Sunday in the boat House.........on one side you have this guy with a white porcelin face and stupid grin.......In the other corner you have a scarry clown with white Make up and orange hair.......and don't forget the hamburglar...........this debate can be revived on Sweater Nite.....hours of fun lie ahead.

a glimmer of hope

well well well...just when I thought I was typing away for nothing.....that my interesting blog was being viewed by nobody......that my lyric analaysis was drifting in cyber space and falling on deaf ears......THEY slipped up. ......on Sunday it was leaked that someone saw my SNIX letter on the blog....ALAS I now KNOW you are reading......this changes everything........the blog machine is back in business.........

SNIX is coming

“Number Nien, Number Nine, Number Nine”


With Great Fanfare Sweater Night prepares to turn 9, No, Nien, Nada, Nyet, Ichsnay. Excitement is at a fever pitch in and about the Borough of Churches. The Knights of Columbus cracks the starting lineup this year as a “long time fan, first time host”. For those of you keeping score at home this is the 6th venue to host an event . Competition to host is fierce, like cities of America vying for the right to host a Superbowl. Untold hundreds of dollars will surely flow into the local economy. “Livertog Flumebeedoo and his amazing gefeltah Fish” are slated to perform live that Nite as the Macaddottes have been unceremoniously dumped as house band.

Sad to say we lost one of our sweater nite attendees this past year. There will be a moment of silence this year to be dubbed "RR" ( remembering Roger) The "you know who" lost his battle with gullible-itis this past year, and although his humorless corpse still walks the land , he is no longer welcome at our gatherings. John Duffy will be working the door with his Dude sympathizer wand to identify any spies and block their entrance too. Rog , or was it Raj , suffered for many years with his St Anselms induced inferiority complex, mainly because his parish was too afraid to compete against the other Catholic Schools in South Brooklyn, that being OLA, OLPH and occasionally St Pat's.. Truth be told most Bayridgeites thought St Anselms was a Church without a school or a retirement home for the elderly. For the benefit of those of you who do not remember Rog ( and probably most of you don't) he was a Bush loving ( the beer not the President….his politics were always a question mark) Nike wearing Fool. Honorary Vice President of the Jeff Spicolli fan Club…..he took his nickname from the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High….before that his nickname was "Rusty" because of his LOVE of Rusty Staub. He was , and I am sure he still is "notoriously" cheap. He still has not paid for his Hotel room at the Final Four in 1988. He was known to overcharge people for ICE at a tailgate party, even though he emptied out the ice trays from his parents freezer. He always bought the cheapest beer that the deli had for sale, which we all did, but he did not have the Pride or Courage to then drink Cheap Beer with a smile…..instead he cowered in the shadows of Moon Man Park, or worse, drank other people's premium beers. In any event , in the newfound spirit of kindness and forgiveness that the Knights and SNIX both share, we will take a moment and reflect on his passing.

Sweater Knight 9 , or Svetter Nite Nein, or SNIX, or whatever you prefer to call it will be held on Friday the 16th of FeBREWary at the Knights (who so recently said NI) of Columbus hall at 8122 5th ave in beloved Bayridge Brooklyn, or Yellow Hook or Broken land as the Dutch used to refer to her. The pregame skate starts about 5:30 in PC’s Pub ( 7259 5th ave ) just a stones throw from the Knights. The Gala itself should kickoff at 8:00 p.m.The requirements stay the same, bring a Jersey and your thirst. As an added wrinkle this year, there will be a day after brunch at PC’s pub for the 1:00 faceoff between our cherished Rangers and the woeful Philadelphia frequent fliers on Saturday 2/17. Craig Paz has agreed to put out a warm buffet during the game. In closing I hope this letter finds you in an inebriated state , or at least well on your way , depending on when your mail is delivered. Feel free to spread the word as all are welcome with the exception of you know who. Until the Puck drops, lace up , Gear and for the Popes sake DRINK UP !! …..don’t forgot to log on to the Official Sweater Night blog at
http://sn2k.blogspot.com



Thomas P O’Dowd
President & Founder

ramblings

At times like these we turn to the poets and those who philosophize with their pens to try and shed some light
On confusion. This is the strangest life we've ever known, and life is carnival , believe it or not. We truly are
Living and dying in 3/4 time on the long and winding road. We've all been going down the road feeling bad at one time or another
And feeling as though we're on the road to nowhere. I only saw what they let me see , and the Lord only lets us know what he wants
Us to know and comprehend…….it is up to us to keep that faith that there is a better world when you get to the end of the way.

I don't know what happens when people die, can't seem to grasp it no matter how I try,
Like a song playing right in my ear…I can't hear it…can't help listening. (J Brown)

Another man done gone, another man done gone, another man done gone,
down on the county farm….another man done gone…..(Jorma trad)

we're going down that long and lonesome road babe, we're I'm bound…I can't tell
….but goodbye Is too sad a word babe, so I'll just day fare thee well………….( Bob)

spent a little time on the mountain, I spent a little time on the hill…..
things went down we don't understand, but I guess in time we will….(Hunter/Garcia)

What's won is won, and what’s done is done
And What's lost is lost and won't be back forever. (trad Eire)

If you never heard him sing, I guess you wont too soon….cause people let me tell ya,
It sent a chill up and down my spine, when I picked up the telephone, and heard that
He died….out on the mainline. ( N Young)

Standing on the moon, with nothing better to do.
A lovely view of heaven, but I'd rather be with you (Hunter/Garcia)

And at times like these we learn to live again, and at times like these we learn to give again.
And it's times like these , time and time again. (Grohl)

I seen a lot of people, and it's true
The Good…they die young.
I just look around and they're gone.(Dion)

I don't know where life will lead me
But I know where I've been
I can't say what life will show me
But I know what I've seen
Tried my hand at love and friendship
But all that is passed and gone
This little boy is moving on

Sitting here in limbo
waiting for the tide to flow
Sitting here in limbo
knowing that I have to go
Well they're putting up resistance
But I know that my faith will lead me on ( Plummer/Bright …..Jerry)

What are they doing in heaven today
Hate and sadness have all gone away
Peace it flows like a river they say,
What are they doing there now (Jorma)

Everyone is trying, to get to the Bar.
The name of the Bar is called Heaven
The Band in Heaven plays my Favorite Song.
They play it once again…they play it all night long
Heaven is place…a place where nothing….nothing ever happens ( D Byrne)

It's such a long , long time to be gone….and a short time to be there. (Hunter/Lesh)

the great Mr Waits......lyrics of the day

The piano has been drinking
my necktie is asleep
and the combo went back to New York
the jukebox has to take a leak
and the carpet needs a haircut
and the spotlight looks like a prison break
cause the telephone's out of cigarettes
and the balcony's on the make
and the piano has been drinking
the piano has been drinking...
and the menus are all freezing
and the lightman's blind in one eye
and he can't see out of the other
and the piano-tuner's got a hearing aid
and he showed up with his mother
and the piano has been drinking
the piano has been drinking
cause the bouncer is a Sumo wrestler
cream puff casper milk toast
and the owner is a mental midget with the I.Q. of a fencepost
cause the piano has been drinking
the piano has been drinking...
and you can't find your waitress with a Geiger counter
And she hates you and your friends , and you just can't get served without her
and the box-office is drooling and the bar stools are on fire
and the newspapers were fooling
and the ash-trays have retired
the piano has been drinking
the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking
not me, not me, not me, not me, not me

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.