Random thoughts amidst unseemly Pledge Week begging

• I know many of you start each day with a cup of hot coffee. Since, oh, mid-April I’ve been starting each day by watching Ray Davies and the Jayhawks perform “Americana,” the title cut from Ray’s magnificent new album. I find it soothingly elevating.

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d today be writing about how I told my mother (84, dementia) a dear old cousin of hers had gotten eaten by a bear. In fact, he died of a common heart attack, but I thought I’d use his death to see if she’d remember a really colorful demise. As she does not, I keep adding details. It’s now a very rich and gothic death, one which I think cousin Chuck would prefer. He was a fun and outdoorsy guy who was fond of wearing ’70’s style leisure suits. I’m enjoying telling the fiction because it proves, to hungry bears at least, you don’t have to exude good taste to taste good.

• In my mind, I was hoping my plea for donations would be greeted the way Bedford Falls greeted Mary Bailey’s “It’s A Wonderful Life” summons that her husband George was broke and needed dough fast. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’ll be sure to post something cheerful the instant it does.

• Spent the weekend with the family being tourists in D.C. It was wonderful. We spent Friday evening doing the Western monuments (Lincoln, Vietnam, Korean, MLK, FDR, Jefferson), Saturday the centrals (Washington monument, Holocaust Museum,  WWII, American History) and Sunday the eastern sites (Capitol, Supreme Court, Air & Space, Natural History, Hall of Archives and later the National Zoo). We’re so divided over so much, but that every American can enjoy each of these historical splendors for free is a national blessing.

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d have written about Uber. My old Nashville buddy Jim pointed out an NYTimes story about how the once-promising partnership between Uber & Pittsburgh soured. We used Uber a bunch in DC. Being aware what a criminal jerk Uber CEO Travis Kalanick is, it pained me to use them so much. Uber drivers work for next to nothing, get no respect, and have to hustle to make ends meet. So Uber drivers are like the bloggers of the transportation world! And, yes, we always tipped them (nudge, nudge).

• I realized I became eligible for an Order of Irony Medal when we were standing in front of a monument honoring victims and survivors of the Bataan Death March and all I could think about was how sore my feet felt.

• A friend of mine turned 40 this week and was lamenting how he now felt over the hill, done, used up. Overlooking the fact he was making this gloomy assessment to a 54-year-old listener, I told him he was fine. “Plus,” I said, “even if you are over the hill, it helps to remember going downhill fast is always the most exhilarating part of the ride.” I’m going to try and keep that in mind as my declines accelerate.

• I’m very proud of this blog and the number of people who enjoy it so much, but if circumstances don’t improve, changes will be made. I’m paraphrasing here with something I heard on an actual PBS pledge drive.

• The literalist in me was furious to visit Smithsonian Air & Space Museum and see it has both walls and ceilings.

• Jim, that same old Nashville buddy, asked if donation amounts lead to increasing gift levels. Like does a $25 pledge earn a blog umbrella; a $50 pledge a blog tote bag; etc.? I told him I'll start throwing in cheap bulk tchotchke when surging donations make purchasing cheap bulk tchotchke possible.

• I am putting together a sequel to “Use All The Crayons!” How about this? Anyone who donates to support the blog will get a grateful mention in the new book’s acknowledgments. And a free signed copy!

• I guarantee some of the jurors being selected in Pittsburgh for what is likely to be a long trial once said, “Oh, I just love Bill Cosby! I wish I could spend some time getting to know him even better.”

• If it wasn’t pledge week, I’d be writing about our visit to the magnificent Lincoln Monument and one of my favorite recollections of offbeat Presidential history. It was May 9, 1970, five days after the Kent State shootings. It was there under the shadow of Lincoln that then-President Richard Nixon surprised college protesters by appearing in person at 4 a.m. just to philosophize. It was utterly bizarre. The students asked Nixon questions about U.S. incursions into Cambodia, about the death of innocents and the morality of war. Yeah, in the back of my mind, I game planned what I’d ask President Trump if he on the spur of the moment decided to wade out among the tourists. Was I going to ask about prejudice? Equality? The sustainability of human life on a depleted planet? Nope, nope and nope. I was going to ask him if he’d likes to donate to support Eight Days To Amish. I’m optimistic he’d have written me a check on the spot.

• Chris Rodell, 874 Solomon Temple Rd., Latrobe, Pa. 15650. Or just click the PayPal (storyteller@chrisrodell.com) donate button.

• No amount too small … or too large! Every gesture appreciated.

Blog tradition: Ray Davies & a slouching idiot says thanks

This one’s from Thanksgiving ’11. I’ll be thankful if you read it aloud at the dinner table right before the Thanksgiving prayer.

Kidding!

Thank you for being my friends. I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day and remember the men and women serving in our armed forces in your prayers.

I advise you to start today, as I do every Thanksgiving, by playing the 2006 Ray Davies song, “Thanksgiving Day.”

We can argue all day and night about our favorite Christmas songs, there must be a million of them, but there’s only one Thanksgiving song.

And I mean that. Can anyone name even one great traditional Thanksgiving song?

Leave it to an Englishman to write the song about one of our most authentic American holidays. Be sure to download it as soon as you finish reading this. I promise to keep it holiday snappy.

The song’s got it all. The poignancy, the longings, the Greyhound rides home, the hearth, the family dysfunction and in the end the euphoria of my very favorite holiday.

I’m thankful for Ray Davies.

And I’ll be thankful for the U.S. Marine Corp and all who serve.

We were in Washington, D.C., over the weekend where I went to write a story about the lavish Christmas festival at the Gaylord National Hotel (and, man, I’m thankful I get to do cool stuff like that as part of my job).

The place was crawling with Marines in their dress blues. The hotel was the site of their annual ball.

It diminishes me even further, but I get kind of squishy whenever I’m around a serviceman or woman, especially a Marine.

I’m grateful for their service. They are just the most impressively composed human beings on the planet.

I’ve never seen a Marine in action, but I imagine they could overwhelm most any enemy with just manners and posture.

I understand they teach other more lethal things in grueling boot camps, but if someone told me it was 13 weeks of manners and posture I’d believe it.

It’s like they are constructed with steel spines that make slouching physically impossible. My body would assume a natural slouch if it was suspended from a noose.

I was in the company of about 100 other journalists who, like me, stood around slouching for hours at a time waiting for someone to bring us something free.

I’ve never seen a more vivid mingling of the givers and the takers.

I’m sure if I’d have spilled a free bourbon a Marine would have sprung from the rafters and thrown his medal bedecked jacket over the puddle to assist my wife and daughters over the floor hazard.

I don’t know how to say thank you without sounding cliche or maudlin, so I just tried to make eye contact and say, “Happy Holidays,” hoping it would convey so much more.

But that, too, has pitfalls, as I learned on the elevator.

We got on together in the lobby. I asked this man who does so much for me and our country to do one more thing. 

Could he please push 15?

Guys like me can’t do anything for ourselves.

He was wearing a Steeler jacket. Eureka! I could make Pittsburgh small talk!

If my room had been on the 353rd floor it might have given us enough time to talk up a real friendship.

But we had a very friendly chat, enough so that when the elevator floor bell rang I felt comfortable looking this strong, proud man eye to eye and saying, “Happy Holidays” hoping he’d know what I really meant, which was:

“Thank you for all you sacrifice for me and my loved ones. Thank you for the friends you’ve lost, the tears you’ve shed, and the enemies you’ve killed. I hope your holiday season is filled with love, joy and a peace that’s so often elusive to warriors like yourself. And I hope the Steelers we both cheer act like United States Marines and kick the asses of their every opponent clear through to the Super Bowl.”

It was perfect. He knew exactly what I meant. The door opened and I gave one last firm nod and gathered up my stuff.

Damn. Wrong floor.

He was too gracious, of course, to point out I asked him to push 15 and was exiting the elevator on 11.

But to ride four more floors in awkward silence risked ruining the perfect micro-conversation.

So what did I do?   

I marched right the hell out that elevator door like I knew where I was going leaving this Marine to logically conclude I’m an idiot.

I’ll bet the nation is full of slouching idiots like me.

We have to wait around 364 days until the one day comes when we’re comfortable saying a truly heartfelt thanks.

So Happy Thanksgiving to all our servicemen and women, their families, Ray Davies and to each and everyone struggling to get along in this great, big beautiful land I’m forever thankful to call my home.

My 25 most played songs

It was about a year ago when my computer blew up. I didn’t lose anything, but it wiped out the play count from my iTunes library. This is not insignificant.

I try to play every one of my 7,857 songs at least once a year. The play count function helps me realize if I’m overlooking something worthy.

Before last year’s computer malfunction, I had five years worth of tallied play counts and had played every single song at least three times with three cracking 100 plays.

Now with just one year of regular play, the list seems unsettled. There are more of the newer ones than the old standbys.

So this is not a “best of” list, rather it is a list compiled by iTunes of the 25 songs I’ve played the most in the past 12 months.

It’ll be interesting to see just how much the list changes in two or five years, supposing the dang computer makes it that long.

Check it out:

25. Star Star, Rolling Stones, Goat’s Head Soup, 1973 -- I think this is one of the three greatest rock ‘n’ roll songs ever recorded. The other two are “Sunspot Baby” by Bob Seger, and “I Saw Her Standing There” by The Beatles, but that’s a whole other argument. This one's just total filth and raunch and I find that very appealing.

24. Sometimes We Cry, Van Morrison, The Healing Game, 1997 -- This elegiac masterpiece is one reason why "The Healing Game" is one of Van's best.

23. Rocks Off, The Rolling Stones, Exile On Main Street, 1972 -- I played this album a lot this year during the hoopla over its re-release. The feeling I get every time I hear it is exactly the same as when I first lowered the needle into the groove of this, the first cut, from rock’s best album

22. The Devil You Know, Todd Snider, 2006 -- Download this, print out the lyrics (they’re rapid fire enough to warrant it) and turn it up to 11. The initial guitar blast jolt will knock you on your ass. Recover and sit back and laugh at raucous storytelling at its profane best. The East Nashville setting is one I know well from my Music City days.

21. Cheer Down, George Harrison, Best of Dark Horse, 1989 -- As you’ll see from this list, I’m drawn to many of the parts of great machines, the solo work of people who made their marks in much bigger bands. This is a playful Harrison song from when he was becoming involved with his second truly super group, The Traveling Wilburys. This was written and produced with Jeff Lynne and Tom Petty.

20. This Hard Land, Bruce Springsteen, Greatest Hits, 1995 -- Last October I wrote about how I spent four days doing nothing but listening to Springsteen, the good and awful, in chronological order over four days straight. It was really fun and he’s compelling enough to warrant the exercise. This song is the joyful essence of the Boss, thus it is the essence of America.

19. Bigger Wheel, Stephen Bruton, From The Five, 2005 -- My wife and I have been enormous fans of the obscure solo stuff from this Texas session player for years. Kris Kristofferson called Bruton his soulmate. Besides, K.K., he’s written and recorded with Elvis Costello, Bonnie Raitt, Carly Simon and a host of others. But his solo stuff is outstanding. He’s finally getting his due as co-producer with T Bone Burnett on the “Crazy Heart” soundtrack. Alas, this under-heralded great succumbed last year to cancer. His music however will live on in our hearts forever. His “Right On Time” from 1995 was in the mix at our wedding party (and that ought to tell you plenty about what kind of party it was). This one kicks more ass than a team of angry mule drivers.

18. Thunder On the Mountain, Bob Dylan, Modern Times, 2006 -- Should be on everyone’s most played list if for no other reason than Dylan somehow manages to rhyme “orphanages” with “sons of bitches.” My wife, no Dylan fan she, still nods in mirthful appreciation every time she hears that one.

17. Monday Morning Church, Alan Jackson, What I Do, 2004 -- As I mentioned yesterday, an hour spent listening to really good country music is like an hour spent reading the Bible while the Rev. Billy Graham plays the fiddle nearby. This song about the death of a man’s beloved wife and his subsequent loss of faith will rip your heart out. I stopped listening to it when the kids are in the car. I don’t want them to see Daddy cry.

16. Vacancy Sign, Quinn Fallon & Los Gravediggers, If Heartbreaks Were Highways, 2009 -- I’d be a big fan even if Quinn weren’t a good buddy from 20 years ago. His most-played list would make for a great party, too.

15. Loose, Ray Wylie Hubbard, A: Enlightenment B: Endarkenment (Hint: There is no C), 2010

Even her mama said she was always trouble
Promise a man everything, give him half then charge him double


14. Choctaw Bingo, James McMurtry, Saint Mary Of The Woods, 2002 -- If it’s true every father wants their child to do better and be better than themselves, then this Texan’s Daddy got his wish. No small feat considering the old man is Larry McMurtry, Pulitizer Prize winning author of “Lonesome Dove.” His stories, cadence and deadpan delivery make every song riveting.

13. There Ya Go, Alan Jackson, What I Do, 2004 -- This has an artificially high ranking because it’s one I do play lots in the car hoping the message will sink into the girls’ noggins. It’s about overcoming life’s disappointments with grace and the understanding we can all help each other through this stumbling dance called life.

12. Saint James Infirmary, Van Morrison, What's Wrong With This Picture? 2003 -- A traditional folk song given the full robust blues blowout by a master. The dizzy horn crescendo makes musical madness sound like something worth succumbing to.

11. 5.15 A.M., Mark Knopfler, Shangri-La, 2004 -- I guess if there’s one song on this list I’d urge you to download, this is it. It’s mesmerizing and tells a story I’m still unable to puzzle out, which makes it even more compelling. The world is the poorer when even many tasteful people are asked about Mark Knopfler they reply, “You mean the guy from Dire Straits?” With every new textured album, he makes Dire Straits -- as great as they were -- a bit of an afterthought. 


10. Celtic New Year, Van Morrison, Magic Time, 2005 -- A joyful dance through the clover. I’ve never traveled to Ireland, but thanks to this song and many bottles of wine I’ve been there many, many times. Play this album for anyone who mistakenly believes “Brown Eyed Girl” is still Van’s best.

9. Where are you Tonight, Bob Dylan, Street Legal, 1978 -- So many Dylan songs get overlooked amidst the prolific clutter and magnificence. This is one of my favorites. It’s great rollicking fun.

8. Thanksgiving Day, Ray Davies, Other People's Lives, 2006 -- Not just the best Thanksgiving song ever, it’s one of the best holiday songs ever. It has soul, poignancy, and ragged horns and background vocals sentimental enough to coax tears. For four years now, I wake the family with this for Thanksgiving Day. What’s surprising is how much I enjoy it year round.

7. Just Us Kids, James McMurtry, Just Us Kids, 2006 -- In 5 minutes, 12 seconds, McMurtry chronicles the 40 years we spend going from getting high in high school parking lots to coming to terms with the dashed dreams that come from living hard, sad lives not meant for sissies.


6. She's Gone, Daryl Hall & John Oates, Abandoned Luncheonette, 1987 -- Took me 20 years to realize it, but this is one of the most perfectly crafted pieces of soulful pop ever recorded. Play it loud again and again and again.

5. Slit Skirts, Pete Townshend, All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes, 1982 -- This might be my all time most played song. It still gets me every time the same way I heard it in Paul Romig’s Penn State dorm in 1982. Heck, it may have become my most played song that afternoon.

4. Workingman's Blues #2, Bob Dylan, Modern Times, 2006 -- So weary, so majestic. The song cascades and tumbles along for six exquisite minutes. The downtrodden lyrics pair perfectly with Dylan’s ragged rumble to somehow result in something oddly euphoric.

3. After the Fall, Ray Davies, Other People's Lives, 2006 -- In a land littered with great rock stars, Ray Davies and the Kinks have never gotten their due. I love the palpable rage, the despair and the forlorn struggle he details in this one. And I love the defiant assertion that it can all be overcome.

2. Get Lucky, Mark Knopfler, Get Lucky, 2009 -- It surprises even me that this gentle little lullaby of life ranks so high. I just play it all the time. It’s sort of a penny whistle children’s song about a simple man who never grew up. I find it inspirational.

1. One More Time, Ray Davies, Working Man's Café, 2008 -- So distinctly English, yet so universal, this one always feels like freedom. It’s a great singalong, too. For such a caustic and cynical person, he sings a with a lot of heart and with such a sweet voice. I can’t imagine a day when my top 25 most played doesn’t have at least something from Ray Davies and the Kinks.


So, there you go. Thanks for checking in and having a peek at some of the music that means the most to me.

I was sober while I listened to the songs and wrote this all up -- but that doesn’t mean you have to be.

Have a drink, put on some of your favorite tunes and enjoy the weekend.