I like opening line even better. "If you smile at me, I will understand. Because that is something everybody, everywhere, does in the same language." Truer words are rarely spoken. From "Somewhere," Live, a long time ago. Nice Stills solo:
The sound is a bit "soft." Run it through a stereo amp or good desktop speakers and it's fine. The mix is dead-on, just needs to be louder.
Yea, I know... It's a bunch of Granola chomping, Birkenstock wearing, Patchouli smelling, Psychedelic, Hope Against All Hope Crap. Call me An Old Hippie and taunt me with rhetorical jeers like: "How's that Peace and Love Shit workin' out for ya'?" I'l tell you the same things I told anybody that would listen back in the 60's and 70's. "It's working out just fine, for me. Thank you. Now, if there were simply a whole lot more people that felt the same way, we'd be in pretty good shape." Instead, we're fucked. Royally.
On the other hand: I have no problem with turning certain areas of the World into smoldering piles of post-nuclear rubble, waiting until they cool off to build a new Lego Land/Disneyland/Knotts Berry Farm on them." Wait a minute, we're already doing that shit. My bad. I'll stick with Plan One From Mendocino, instead. A Hypothetical, Peacenik Science Fiction Movie, wherein, Unicorns and Godzillas lay down together and there's free Kool Aid for everyone. Wait a minute, that's Scientology or EST, Seventh Day Adventist Sprecht or something. I don't know, it's so hard to keep track of all this stuff.
State Of The Union Address tonight. O'Bummer could just stand up, take a bow and say: "E.G.B.A.R." and just walk off of the stage. Then the Republicans can crucify him, or whatever it is that awaits him in their darkest of torture fantasies. Michelle Bachmann could do the "Hot For Teacher" strip-tease or something? (You know you want to, you little Misspoken, Crosseyed-With-Venom, Vixen...) Instead, it will be rhetoric and doublespeak, a bit of Rah-rah, Sis-BOOM-Bah-Humbug and then, the aforementioned bow-out.
Everything's Gonna' Be All Right. "E.G.B.A.R.." As if.
I'm being "humorous" here, not: "Political." If you can't laugh at your own Government, draw Heretical Cartoons about your Favorite or Unfavorite Deity, Give Your Congressman The Finger, or whatever, something's wrong. That's Not Really Democracy...
Will Rodgers would have had a Field Day with the current cast of Twaddles and Twats running this Dog-And-Pony-Show.
I think I'll do what I wanted to do yesterday. Go down to the harbor and just Bum Around, smelling rotten stuff, maybe kick a dead fish or crustacean and watch the boats come in and go out. Maybe take the CD Walkman and listen to some music, maybe take a book, a sandwich and a couple beers. Fred Neil, Tom Robbins, etc., go well with PBR and a sandwich, docks and rotten kelp.
The guy that bought my '48 Dodge Custom Touring Sedan before I moved farther up the Lost Coast, knew Fred. They met on Government Cut, a jetty that sticks out into the Atlantic Ocean from Miami. I lived in South Beach, way before it became Oh-So-Trendy. All the Art Deco Hotels and such were in various stages of dilapidation. A bunch of guys from New Jersey or somewhere came in and fixed everything up and now you have to sell a kidney in Brazil (or wherever) to hang out there. I think men still wear platform soled shoes in South Beach and have their shirts unbuttoned to show you their gold chain collections. Women are almost naked, which is cool with me.
I loved that car. I just didn't count on having to sell a kidney to restore it, cosmetically. It was never going to be a real Collector's Item, at any rate. It had a 1953 217 cid L-Flathead 6 in it with Fluid Drive transmission. The precursor to: "Automatic Transmissions." It was also an amalgam of three cars: The D-24c body, a D-25 frame and the '53 engine/running gear. (One a 1947 and one a 1948, which both look the same) Two Door Custom and Family Four Door, respectively. Mine was "Carribean Blue" but looked like this. I kept one extra hubcap and the "Ram" hood ornament with its' "apron and marque badge."
The Old Guy I bought it from said: "You can fit the whole Cheerleading Squad in the back seat." Howard was right. It lives down the coast now. A retired helicopter mechanic bought it from me. I made money on the deal. "A 'good deal' is when both guys walk away thinking they screwed the other one." (Anon.) It wasn't like that. I don't do Weasely Business. All cards and money on the table.
Dodge only made this marque for three years. '46. '47 and '48. They were busy making 2.5 Ton Power Wagons and whatnot during 1941-'45. In '49, the car got a one-piece hood and a new body shape that I don't find attractive. This thing was like driving a Big Boy's Bumper Car and cruised rather well at 50-70 mph. It had more torque than a Sherman Tank and would climb a 10% grade in 3rd gear from a dead stop.
I think I'll shower, shave and head on out of here.
This is probably my favorite C,S,N album. It does not include the song mentioned in the Post Title. It does, however, have the great Stephen Stills song: "I Give You Give Blind" in it. I listened to this allot when I lived in Hawai'i, many years after its' release. It just "fit" while sitting on the docks in Lahaina with a beer in my hand, watching the Sun set over Lana'i. Good times, while they lasted. You can only live on a Big Rock In The Middle Of An Even Bigger Ocean for so long and then you run out of places to walk to and from.
-Doc
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