Time is short but life is good - last night I had the honor and joy of presenting Danny Schmidt for a house concert. Words cannot begin to describe the magic and spirit in my living room, as time stood still for a few hours - more sighs and goosebumps collectively per square foot than have been experienced in quite a while, I'd venture to say. Megan, my folk daughter, is visiting from Baltimore - we ended the evening in a steaming jacuzzi under partly-cloudy skies, much needed for so many reasons...
Heading out of here in about 30 minutes for the South Florida Folk Festival, where I'll be all weekend (as a member of the corestaff as well as an active listener) - back Monday with stories, stories to tell...
In the meantime, I'll leave you with the lyrics of a Danny Schmidt tune which, in my cheating mind, stretches to fit the definition of song, book, poem and quote - enjoy (I know I have... :-)
I always did like music, and I always did like wine
I always liked em best when they was mine
I’d heard enough of Nashville to give a happy man the blues
So I took a job for nothing as a beggar and a mule
And I hauled my cart and guitar
And I stood outside the door
Singin: Listen to me, listen . . .Won’t you listen to me, sir?
Well fuck that cause I’ve got too much pride
Fuck that cause I got clear
And fuck them that got no heart at all
Or the balls to trust their ears
And I sat upon the sidewalks and I saddled up my sides
And I chewed my cud and washed it down with pride
Catnip and barleycorn, and made ready for the show
And I lost myself in stories of the hard luck and morose
And the people pitched me pennies
And they pounded on the glass
Then they left to see the painted man
And I left to pack my ass
Well good goddamn another empty town
Goddamn another shell
Goddamn cause when I ride back home
I’m a stranger there as well
And I can’t say they weren’t good to me, can’t say they weren’t kind
It’s more the way they weighted down my mind
And it’s more the lack of dignity and the hustle and the hounds
To take your hat off while you’re playin’ -- just to lay it on the ground
It was never for the money
Or the whistles and applause
And I will not tip my hat
Unless you sing me back a song
God bless the sound of music
God bless the golden rule
That’s why all my friends are beggars
And all my friends are mules
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