ok, so not quite a movie.
I wrote a song called carnival dreams, and now it’s the title of a collection of short stories and other writings. available now at Amazon.
It seems that you can’t be from Appalachia (as I am) without weighing in on the new Little Opie Cunningham (Ron Howard) movie, Hillbilly Elegy. Based on the best-selling memoir by J.D. Vance, Elegy tells his story of escape from the horrors of Appalachia. Seems like everyone has an opinion. I haven’t read the book or seen the movie, so I’m no position to offer any thoughts. But, hey, here’s a bunch of hillbillies playing some amazing music. Looks like they could be from Clay County. No disrespect to Clay County. In fact, Clay County is actually a hotbed of good music in West Virginia.
But guess what? These guys aren’t real hillbillies. Not even from West Virginia. Or the United States, for that matter. They’re from Finland.
I’m sitting in my office this morning working and listening to music, when one of the songs makes me stop and replay again and again at about the 2:35 mark. It’s a live performance of the Avett Brothers and Scott forgets the words to the song. He stops for a second, it comes back to him, and he keeps going. You can hear a little chuckle as it happens. And I had to stop what I was doing and get this life lesson down.
Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time in my basement learning to sing and play songs. I have a set list of about 12 songs I can play. And sometimes, just like Scott, the words aren’t there. I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often with the Avetts, given their catalog and complicated lyrics and phrasing.
Long story short, mistakes sometimes happen.
Keep going forward and give them a smile.
All the wrong notes will soon be forgotten,
Play for today, and do it with style.
via the Avett Brothers.
Written by folk legend Woody Guthrie, the counter-culture revolutionary. The bros do it true to the original version, but the black and white portraiture is a bonus.
I didn’t know this, but Woody died of Huntington’s disease, which was passed down from his mother and then passed on to his daughters.
all this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me.
Yes, it’s true. I’m Elvis. Just a hunka hunka burning love.
Jerry Jeff Walker, who wrote Mr. Bojangles, passed away today. It is said that Walker met a homeless street performer in New Orleans when they were both locked up in the parish jail. The street performer used the name Mr. Bojangles to keep his true identity from the police. While in lock-up, they talked, of course, and by and by, Mr. Bojangles told the sad story of his dog who had traveled around the country with him for years, but at some point, had died. They asked Bojangles for something to lighten the mood, so he danced for them. Here’s maybe the best version of Mr. Bojangles ever. Enjoy.
or maybe this version…
It’s cool, baby.
A loose translation.
A song from back in the day by Steveland Morris, aka, Stevie Wonder. He’s laying down the patter at the very beginning of the song, trying to impress a lady by telling her everywhere he’s been, including Ufrasia, wherever that is. Then he tells her he speaks very fluent Spanish, proving it to her with the phrase, todo esta bien chevere. That’s cool, baby. Don’t you worry ’bout a thing, sugar.
A little Latin flavor for my six-string. A fun song to learn to play.