Everyone Needs a Hug

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the podcast audio

Good morning and welcome to The Signalman Show!

  OK, more stories from the street.  I went to Richmond this past Saturday, and well, was a bit nervous to start up the street music again.  I'm not sure why...maybe it's just been a while.  Well, it sure was good to be back.  I'm jammin' with my broom guitar, and the religious weirdos show up down the block, set up their signs, and start a street sermon video, the hipsters are walking by, and all of the denizens of the  concrete jungle were there.  So much fun!  Well, one of the local drunks stops by.  I didn't recognize him until he took off his sunglasses.  He's been a nuisance before, and I wasn't exactly thrilled to see him at first, but this changed.  He seemed a bit somber.  I asked him how he was, and he teared up.  His daughter, who I've seen before selling faded roses from her motorized scooter, was in the ICU.  He was worried sick.  She's his everything. I spontaneously offered a hug, which he accepted, clinging to me like his world was slipping away.  We talked a bit, and he felt a lot better when he realized one of her procedures wasn't as serious as he thought it was.  He wandered off to get a beer.  People sure are complicated.  And seems like everyone needs hugs.  

The Tallest Man on Cary Street

Hey everyone!

  I hope you had a great weekend!  I sure did...and met a remarkable gentleman while I was playing street music in Richmond.   Let's call him "Sam."  Sam, if you're listening to this show, please let me know if you'd like to do that interview we were talking about.  It would be an honor.  We got to talking about creativity a bit, and I mentioned that writing seems to be my primary form of expression.  Sam, I wrote you something.  I know it's a tough subject, and want you to know that I write this with respect and humility.  May we all strive to your level of dignity, service, and fortitude.

Our kneecaps should at least feel a prickle of shame as we walk by the Tallest Man on Cary Street.  Some gave all, some gave almost all...but most gave none at all.  "It's been a slow day" he says as the fancy girls and hipsters walk by, towering above The Tallest Man on Cary Street.

  He had jokingly requested "Freebird", and we exchanged hellos across the street.  Guitar strings eventually break, street music stops, and conversation starts.  A few minutes in, "Are you OK talking about war?" I ask him, my peer, only 1 year older than me.  "I hear this generation of vets feels invisible."

"It's more of how I'm treated now.  I got laid off, and my disability paperwork is taking forever.  I've got to put on this stupid sign and come out here to make ends meet, otherwise I'll lose everything I have.  But, I'd do it again, no regrets."  A strange avian sound reverberates off the quaint storefronts in the summer afternoon.  He glances up, mentioning how he won't let a hawk take off with his puppy.  Rolling by a dumpster the other day, he had heard a whimpering inside.  He discovered the puppy, took some money from his dwindling supply, and got the shots and food for Rufus, as was the name chosen.  "I was gonna take him to the shelter, but he slept on my chest the first night, and that was it."  They love each other, a sight of connection to watch behind the screen of people politely ignoring his polite sign.  There's a blankness on the street, and I've only tasted the appetizer.  People seal off in their own little bubbles.  If you want to feel lonely, try asking a crowd for help.

  I shake what's left of his hand, thank him for his service, and go back to my car.  I surprise myself and start to cry.  Not like the bee sting sob of a boy, but a smarting injustice that makes your jaw clench and eyes leak.  He left his legs in Fallujah.  I can't even spell that word.  And we left him there on the ground with his sign.  What a thanks. The pretty girls and hipsters walk by.  We should all pull our fancy skirts and designer jeans to cover our kneecaps, shudder as they should to meet his friendly, dignified gaze.  After all he's done for us...How we have failed The Tallest Man on Cary Street.

Happy Birthday, Matt!

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the podcast audio

Good morning, crew!

  Happy birthday to Matt Hooke!  Matt is a friend, musician, radio host, and indirectly, one of the reasons for this podcast.  I met him at a show we were both playing last summer in Takoma Park, Maryland.  As gregarious as I am, sometimes I don't make a point to talk to my fellow musicians as much as I should.  I'm glad I talked with Matt, though.  We ended up jamming onstage, he later got me an interview on WOWD Takoma Park, which eventually got me thinking about podcasting.  He's guested on this show, and I've guested on his show in Cleveland on WRUW, and we continue to collaborate.  All from one "Hey man, how's it going?"  Not only would I like to wish him a happy birthday today, but thank him for yet another reminder that there are cool people walking around everywhere, and a single conversation can change a life!  I'm gonna start saying hello more!

A fun idea

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the podcast audio

Good morning!

  I've got a fun idea.  Bring flowers to the customer service department.  Ah, I'll explain.

  It was the day of a million errands yesterday, and an overcast sky found me lugging a big old car battery into Wal Mart.  See, I had bought a lawnmower battery there, and if you bring back the old mower batter, you avoid what's called the "core charge."  They re-manufacture the batteries, and sell them again.  Well, this wasn't a lawnmower battery, and it was covered with spiderwebs and dirt.  I thunked it on the counter of the customer service department, off to the side so the old guy with the jar of organic peanut butter that wasn't sealed right could get  his money back.  Poor Jen...the light had been knocked out of her eyes a long time ago.  She took care of the old guy, then asked her coworker about the spiderweb battery I had brought back, mechanically moving through the actions.  She didn't seem talkative, and I could totally see her point, especially as I started to look around, imagining that everyone needed to return something.  Wouldn't it be cool to go to a town where you didn't need anything from the customer service department, and bring them a snack or a treat as a keep-the-faith present?  I'm heading out to Gainesville VA in a few hours to DJ, and I'm gonna do that at their Wal-Mart.  Feel free to join in the fun!

The Dragons and Lizards

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the Podcast Audio

Good morning, and Happy Monday!  I hope you had a great weekend!  I sure did.  Helped a buddy move into a beautiful new home (shoutout to Ryan!), got to dance with girls way more talented than me, AND DJ'd a wedding where the married couple was so happy they could barely stand it.  On Sunday, I took a road trip with my mom and brothers, out along a route we've been traveling for years. It was a beautiful day, and I treasure these excursions. I've grown up watching the road wind into those mountains, and have thought much along the way.  I got to thinking about subtlety.  You ever have those moments where you go "Huh, I guess this is Life!"?  There's no dragons, no epic battles of yore...just a road unwinding gently through pastures and farmland, yet so much happens over the years.  As you know, I'm a bit of a dramatic fella...but lately have been noticing how big things hinge on little things, and the little things are built on a pile of seemingly inconsequential choices.  Here's a little something I wrote about it...not sure if you'd exactly call it a poem, but here goes:

When I was a younger man,

  I heard tales of distant mountains looming in a vast sky,

with battles of old to decide fate and glory, silver clashing on silver,

Fate looking down from a white horse and saying

            "Behold, your Life."

But what if dragons are the lizards  

  Scuttling across my suburban driveway

And the drums of war the ticking of the mantle clock

That we must be vigilant to wind


And first, to choose to wind.

          Feel the key in your hand.

Robot Thoughts

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the Podcast Audio


Happy FRIDAY, and welcome to The Signalman show!

  So, I got to thinking about what the little fella said.  You know, about the robot and magic hot chocolate and flying to space.  Ah, a quick recap.  One of my 9 year old students went off on a tangent, and invented an incredible robot that could do almost anything, including brewing hot chocolate that could make us fly into space.  BUT - we'd have to come back to Earth, because we can't breathe in space.  I pointed out that the robot might be able to figure out a way around that, but since have been thinking:  Isn't that what we all do?

  Most of us are here by impossible odds in one way or another.  Pause a moment and reflect on this.  You probably have some miraculous story that you might have forgotten, be it past history and well, today is today.  We're so quick to accept that, yet draw from what I call selective realism, choosing a reason pretty much out of context as to why we can't do something.  In other words, don't we all have our own versions of magic robots, but "since everyone knows we can't breathe in space", we're forced earthward?  I'm still not sure what to do about this, but as they say, the first step is admitting you have a problem...Good things to ponder over the weekend!  Let me know what you come up with!

Let Your Imagination Breathe

The Morning Show is a blog companion to the Podcast Audio

There's nothing quite like the tangents a 9 year old boy will take.  I was sitting in my guitar teaching chair last night, trying to get the little fellow interested in not only holding his guitar fairly upright, but to also play a few notes, and have them sound decent.  It's literally and figuratively a balancing act - these little fellows are wiggly, and that's OK! I don't remember exactly what the cue word was, but probably something like "try it again" or "practice", and BAM, he was off on a wonderful tangent.  It started with a robot.  "We could ask him to make us hot chocolate!  And he'd be back in like five seconds with it, and it would be the best hot chocolate ever."  "This is superior hot chocolate in every way" I intoned in my best robot voice.  "And then I'd ask him to make a fleet of robots.  But then I'd let him rest."  "I need a nap now."  "But you've only been working for fifteen seconds."  "But it was very hard work."  "And he'd put something in the hot chocolate that could make us FLY!  And then we'd go to SPACE!....but then we'd have to come back to Earth, because we couldn't breathe."

  I felt it my job to point out the obvious flaw in his logic.  "But, I think if he could make magic hot chocolate and get us to space - he could figure out a way we could breathe."

  Why do we do that?  Why do we build robots that make us magical hot chocolate, and then worry about breathing in space?  It's got me thinking about self-imposed limits.  Sometimes kids say the darndest things...