http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoCrRAR3MwI

just amazing!

that name

i saw his name
in a place where only
my friends should be



i saw the name
of my childhood
monster



a name
years forgotten
unawares
at 5 years old
i want to
destroy him

are you there?
no?
I just wanted to say
I just wondered if
you felt the same way

you know...
after all these years
after I thought I really KNEW
after I thought, I had learned
that feeling
do you feel it?
that inkling that,
somewhere, just beyond my reach
just there
in that area beyond my vision
at the back of my head
just there
beyond the next plateau

I always thought that
there was a next level
a level that, with patience
I could just reach
a level of more knowledge
of more wisdom

somehow I have not reached there

do you feel that?
so you see that?
maybe,
you can show me the way

Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
I had a wonderful lunch time drive.
It is amazing what a good driving soundtrack adds.
Afro-Celt Sound System

my miles unfolded
along with my thoughts
it was the combination of neatly clipped grass
dark green trees, deep blue water stretching
out past the horizon

I passed by old places,
some run down, abandoned places
some that whispered in my ear
"I wonder how this was,
wonder how it used to be"

what is the feeling for nostalgia?
when it is not the past one yearns for
but for a here and now
a feeling that seems so familar,
but it lurks
in the back of my vision
and so out of reach
near the back of my head


tin whistle and bodhran, fiddle and uilleann pipes
and my mind
running, running
through time, to what once was
to stiffling present
and free flowing future.

the music surrounded me
then, the words hit me, with gale force:
"I’ve been thinking about this love
I’m thinking about it
I’m thinking about this love
So hard, so hard

I’ve been thinking about my life
And how it’s going to turn
And all I really want to do
Is find a way to go on through

And all I really want to do now
Is find a way to go on through

So out on the tide we go
Out on it
So out on the highest waves
So high, so high

So out on the tide we go
Knowing it will turn
And all I really want to do
Is find a way to go on through

And all I really want to do now
Is find a way to go on through
And all I really want to do
All I really want to do
Is find a way to go on through
Find a way to go on through"

my kid
has chosen a new name
a new identity
hand picked

My child, rejects
and accepts

Jimmy has reminded me
what I knew 30 years ago

I remember the first earth day
I remember ecology
sustainability

I remember, make love
not war

we are hippies
40 years separated

she thinks like me
he feels like me

things aren't so easy these days
religion
politics
sexuality
gender

my own searching
my own agnosticism
skepticism

lets me accept my child
even though it's hard
for this mind

because Jimmy thinks
so much
like I do.

"can we start recycling?"

our apartment building doesn't recycle

"can we eat organic?"
we make a day of it.
whole foods
trader joe's

discovering what's good for us
what is good for the planet.

my kid wants to love the planet
wants to take care of it
like I love the planet
like I did
before I forgot
and now I remember

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dH0hf0qU_zQ

Oh my! such a terrific voice!

I was having a conversation the other day with my muslim friend Abe.  He is Palestinian.  When we talk about Israel, I call the place Palestine, in deference to him.

we talked about evolution and how, logically, evolution is really impossible. We left religion out of the conversation.  But we both agreed about how more complex systems just don't evolve on their own.

Looking at creation, I see, that God must exist.
Looking at religion, I see how mankind has gotten it all wrong.

Abe points out that through the method of observation, that is how false religions arise.  And I agree.  Through observation, early man believed that the world was flat.  early man thought that the Sun was a God. 

But I point out to him, that religion cannot be proved because of a divine relevlation.  I cautiously tell him that the angel that appeared to Joseph Smith of the Mormon religion can be viewed the same as Gabriel appearing to Mohammed.  Abe agrees.  But his faith in Islam is unshaken.  To him, Islam is the one true religion...something he takes by faith.

Why am I even writing this tonight?  I don't know.  One of many a myriad thoughts in my mind.
I'm just thinking tonight, about the bigness, the utter hugeness of the universe.  And maybe how mankind somehow manages to make the universe tiny, by creating gods and religions to describe the undescribable

my nephew called me this week, at work.  I never hear from him.  we don't have a close relationship.  But he called me, stating he had noone else he felt he could talk to.  His wife is leaving him.  he doesn't know what to do. he called for my advice.

"Uncle Marc? you don't believe in God?"  

"Oh, I believe in God.  I just don't believe in organized religion".   I suppose I lied.  In a way.  I'm not convinced about God.  That's why I call myself an agnostic. 

"because, Uncle Marc, I prayed to God, that he would help me.  That he would help me find a job. and a couple of days after, I got this job offer.  Should I take it? "

I'm not here to tell my nephew that there is no God.  I am not here to tell Abe that Allah is not the true God.

I'm not sure what I'm here for.  Just looking for truth.  And shunning what I believe to be fables and lies.

yeah, I'm not sure why I'm even writing all of this to you tonight.

some things jog memories
He left my world
forged His own
one that I touched the fringes of

when I was a little boy,
He took me to work
I thought it was the big city.
a busy street
a bustling office.

I remember looking out the window, on a summer's day
when he showed me a portion of his world
away from my small town
His work.
showed me the teletype printouts
the slide rule he used.
I remember the day he brought home the slide rule.
it was an amazing device.
performed complex arithmetic calculations on a ruler
I didn't understand, but I was amazed.

He left
tears on my mothers eyes.
an end to a bad, sad marriage.
I never really new the significance of separate beds.
though, I still remember a time before,
the time I walked in on them
both asleep on their stomachs
sleeping after an afternoon fuck
I'd walked in their bedroom
and quietly turned around, realizing without knowing
that I'd intruded on something different.

our new house
we owned the house
the G.I. bill...He got the loan
and we moved from our small rented place.
the place where he slept on a roll away bed
in the alcove in the upstairs hall
and She slept downstairs on the couch.
that house, I hated to leave
didn't want to leave my girl friend Jackie
who kissed me because I got a home run
in minor league baseball game.
the 8 to 11 year old league
and her kiss was moist and fresh
exciting even to a prepubescent boy

I cried when we moved
from the downtown end of main street
to the uptown end
the downtown end
the very end
of main street
right next to the tracks

across those tracks
the white poor
and some excitement
young fantacies with girls
pretending nakedness
pretending bare tits
I grew a little that day

I stood on those tracks
(he's from across the tracks)
I found out about a boy, whose name
was King
not his nickname
I can recall that day,
we scoured the neighborhood, knocking on doors
"do you have any empty pop bottles you want to get rid of?"
we collected a load of bottles
and returned them to the neighborhood grocer.

Stores that you don't see anymore
no foodliners in those days
no super K-Marts, Super Wal-marts
just ma and pa
we cashed in the bottles for the 2 and 5 cent deposits.
today...it's throwaway plastic
throwaway glass
back in the day
we already had recycling
5 cent deposit on quart bottles of pop

King and I
we divided the money
not much. enough for penny candy
but King surprised me
he didn't buy candy
he bought a loaf of bread
"I'm going to give it to my mom" he said
that jolted me
and I realized without words being said
my 11 year old brain
about his poverty
poorer than my family
his house across the tracks


the tracks that I moved from
moved away from midnight train whistles
away from black Chessie, who used to hold the stop sign
holding back traffic from crossing the tracks
as heavy fast freight trains passed by
rail road crossing with no gate
just Chessie Thornton directing the traffic
yes. I moved from the tracks
leaving King
and Jackie's kisses

to move uptown to our own house
no more rentals
and it was a fine house
150 years old
civil war era home, lived in by Mr. Wells himself
and He had bought it with his World War II G.I. money

I admired the fine hardwood cupboards
the old gaslight
the vintage hardwood floors
the very floors my friends and I wore off the finish
wore off by dancing shoes.
nightly dance parties, with Rick playing 45's on his record player
that record player that he'd carry.
it was suitcase sized.
no boomboxes in those days.
Just Rick, and his record player, and his spindle of 45's
soul music
and we danced and danced
mom away at the Eagles with my stepdad
and teenagers
smoking Kools and drinking Strohs
and fucking in the garage

but this was after
after the time when He was still here
after the time I saw the tears in Her eyes
after He took his clothes out to his used car
packed his things
and left for good

she divorced him
she left him
she forced him out.
left him even before he was gone
"so, you were out with your mom's boyfriend today?"
and I didn't know what to say
didn't know how to answer
standing in his bedroom
their bedroom
with the separate beds
so long since I'd seen them naked
in their double bed
years ago

And I lived a life he never new
it was so long to me.
but only a few short years to Him
and he forged a life of his own
never bothering to reach out to his children
never ever visiting

and I sought him out
found him in that artsy crowd
the actors and playwrites
and I entered into that world
I brought my high school friends with me
into His world
of art

I remember the cast party
rubbing elbows with the local talent
the small town actors
I remember the party
I remember the slo gin

© 2008 Marc Mccune
memory on father's day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8eacuydxOs

THIS is music! Exquisite

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fginS6uhw-8

oh me oh my...where did the years go?