A highly tantalizing holiday taken to writing took its typical course…

• behind closed doors
• windows drawn and close
• my computer
• my thoughts.

What did I accomplish?

• viewed season two of my second favorite television show
• watched a few movies

The good news was, during all that watching, closed-off and isolated, those blues thoughts got time to finally breathe.

The Ben Harper Revival

A few weeks ago I started carboloading on music and fumbled back into Ben Harper while I was looking for more Otis Redding and Sam Cooke.

I hadn’t really listened to Harper since Diamonds On The Inside. It was the album I was soaking in when a girl I cared for dearly moved on. Most of the songs remind me of the moment when I got that fateful text during my drive to the boat.

Some girls can only be loved when they’re chased.

Harper might have paid the price for my pain – though I wasn’t a fan of his performance on Standing in the Shadows of Motown.

But as I slid back into that time period, drew upon those times, dove back into my resources, and stirred it all together, Ben Harper started bubbling to the pop.

During my search, I came across a performance Ben Harper gave with the Innocent Criminals called Live at Twist and Shout Records. Softer and more soulful then when I last left him, this performance sticks into my head.

Especially the song “Fool a Lonesome Train.”

If you listen to the song and you can’t picture yourself sitting on a deck, rocked back on a chair, sipping a crafted drink from a sparkling glass and tripping into a memory as if,

“Last night is still ringing in my head like that lonesome whistle in the rain” (Harper, 2007)

then you died some time long ago, my friend.

For me, it’s that deck and that chair. Leaned back. So I can place a Martin guitar over my lap and play something soft and slow…

Like “Fool for a Lonesome Train.”

Lyrics to “Fool for a Lonesome Train.”

“Fool for a Lonesome Train” – by Ben Harper”
It’s late and I can’t sleep
I’ve made promises that I can’t keep
Cobblestones and broken bones, has a kingdom but he’s got no home
Last night is still ringing in my head like that lonesome whistle in the rain

I’m a fool for a lonesome train
I’m a fool for a lonesome train

The lifetime we’ve left behind with strangers
Promises and lies both have their dangers
I just can’t be wrong enough and I can’t hide for long enough
So far away, but I still feel your pain

I’m a fool for a lonesome train
I’m a fool for a lonesome train
I’d try to say goodbye but I never got your name
I’m a fool for a lonesome train

I’m a fool for a lonesome train
I’m your fool for a lonesome train
I know it sounds crazy but I’m painfully sane
I’m your fool for a lonesome, lonesome, lonesome train

MP3s of Ben Harper songs mentioned – via Amazon.com

And for those paying attention at home, the girl mentioned above is referred to as “Gracie,” in the books of blues.

(photo credit: Jazmin Million via Flickr)

And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons.
- Hamlet. Act 1. Scene 1. (Shakespeare)

I never read Shakespeare. At least I never read them all. I read Julius Caesar a couple times. And Romeo & Juliet. But there’s this stack of stuff I’ve been meaning to read. The stack’s pretty tall.

Among my possessions stored in various places is a collection of hardbound booklets, one for every play Shakespeare wrote. The Collection was released between 1902-1906. I inherited them from my mama’s mama.

Once upon a few hours ago I tried to fall asleep at 8pm. Tired, weary, I drifted off within seconds. Left deep within, I dreamt of Hamlet. Fascinating because I never read the story nor have seen a movie about it. I just remember he went mad with vengeance over the murder of his father.

Vengeance. I’ve been forced to deal with the thought a little more.

A friend told me I was still bitter. I went to argue but then I realized she was right, but not for what she was arguing.

I dreamt of Hamlet, not with the time period clothing – which I couldn’t recall – or for any particular scene in the play – for which I haven’t yet found myself in position to recall. But I worked through the books of blues story line, reconsidering choices as a means of vengeance. The second verse to my dream started off with a praxis of whether or not there are “fixed” and “relative” moments in time (thank you, David Tennant & Russell T. Davies). Then the vengeance and paired moments started to duel in my head til I woke up 22 minutes later to an epiphany.

the Doctor vs. the Captain

Sitting straight up and giddy, these elements poured over the baseline to my books of blues, shading in the dark corners and filling in the gaps. Those books finally have the deeper questions, and the touch of soul I was looking for…Which means my editor’s gonna have to be on hold…well, no, he can edit what’s there. They need a cleansing.

But my thirst to know more about Hamlet got me to roll out of bed. I started to see if I could find a copy then it dawned on me – David Tennant spent 2008 playing Hamlet for the Royal Shakespeare Company – w/ Patrick Stewart. (Thank you, PBS.)

Here’s a clip of Tennant doing Hamlet’s Soliloquy for the RSC:

And as I went to go get the book out of storage I remembered: my booklet of Hamlet was next on my list to read. It’s sitting on my stack of books. Wow, this year has flown by.

Though the pieces are starting to fit together during the time

A little more than kin, and less than kind.
-Hamlet. ACT I Scene 2.

(photo credits: 1) niiceshout & 2) Hytok and others. both via Flickr)

So that damned “Gatorade Has Evolved” song for the Gatorade G commercials that came out for the 2010 NBA playoffs got in my head and wouldn’t leave. You know the commercial…

“If you wanna revolution the only solution:  evolve. You gotta evolve.”

Gatorade Revolution / Evolve Commercial – 2010

The damned song won’t get out of my head (maybe because it’s bluesy?), so I started looking for it.

Within the depths of their…reporting, the AOL Radio Blog reported that Gatorade Evolve song MP3 wasn’t available (at the time of this writing) for commercial release. And the AOL Blog is right, but that’s because they didn’t take 14 seconds to check the Gatorade site (and I didn’t either for the first hour of my search) to find out the MP3 is FREE to download.

Here’s the link to the Gatorade page where you can find the Gatorade Evolve / Revolution MP3 download…it’s on the right side of the page. Big orange button (guys, put that stuff on the left side and make it more pronounced).

Sometimes, you just have to go to the source.

About the Gatorade Evolve / Revolution song

The song itself is a classic blues/gospel pattern. Before I listened to the whole thing, I came across reports that people thought it was originally done by Bo Diddley. Hearing it for the 7th time straight through, I can say that Bo didn’t write this.

Well there once was a guy who couldn’t jump high
Till he focused in
Now he touches the sky

or this

you gotta do more than try to get by
evolution is the key and that’s no lie

I love him, but Bo don’t know Evolution…unless he wrote a song about Michael Jordan and Laila Ali (that’s my guess).

Those who keep writing and saying the song was “inspired” by Bo Diddley are right, if they’re willing to stipulate that Bo Diddley followed a pretty textbook blues / gospel format as well.

as do we all…

it's like Al Green wrote for Otis Redding

The song is officially titled, “Gatorade Has Evolved.” Written and produced by David Banner, the track was sung by Kermit Quinn – who if anything sounds copied it’s the fact this guy sounds so much like Otis Redding it ain’t even funny. I was shocked. It’s why the song’s in my head. Damn good vocals.

(photo credit by Ran Muir via Flickr)

A quiet, unassuming spring night in April. The NFL draft is consuming traditional media like it’s the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, and around here, people are preparing for the now-Famous Dark Lord Day at Three Floyds Brewery.

Life is placid for a few days. It only means one thing: time to escape to Big Country’s Garage State Park up in Duneland. The best place to relax, unwind, and catch up with childhood friends. Well, at least the best place within a gas tank trip. And given the cars driven here, that’s at least all the way to the next gas station.

On this week’s installment of Country’s Garage, Gag Halfront is spraying the MOPAR 440 engine from his 1962 Plymouth Fury before he rebuilds it, again.

If this was filmed for TV, the next 6 hours of footage would be found on the cutting room floor, but this is when the fun begins.

No computers.
No wifi.
No worries.

Just childhood friends, a car to work on, and music.

The selection: “Riddles Are Abound Tonight” by Sausage w/ Les Claypool & Tim Alexander.

Break…

If things continue to go well, I feel this will be a very quiet summer. Why?

Because them other books of blues won’t write themselves. And I’m getting too old to leave them dreaming in my head.

I’m too afraid of becoming Like the song now playing above and behind me: Mr. Bojangles as done by Sammy. Love the simple, structured rhythm jazz guitar. Gibson hollow body if I had to guess.

Too bad I don’t dance that well.

Here’s to hoping the road stays smooth and nothing unforseen is too daunting – for a change.

And for those who were kind enough to express their thoughts on Facebook about my update last night: that post was actually a prayer. There was no other way that story should have played out. I fumbled into another truth and was grateful.

But I thank you, sis, for the concerns (and I’ll take better care of Hector).

Mr. Bojangles, dance.

(post title is from Mr. Bojangles by Jerry Jeff Walker)

Ever since oldold man Finn woke up sick after our gulf-to-ocean-and-back road trip, I’ve been consumed by the question:  “Legacy or Longevity?”

In a couple hours, I’m going to go back into Book of Blues. I’m finally in uncharted territories. I know where’s it’s going. I know how it’s gonna end.

But I don’t know how to answer the Legacy / Longevity question.

I started thinking of how music heroes. I often think of Sam Cooke. Like Otis and Marvin, Sam’s flame extinguished while burning bright. My lifeline is closing in on his length. So long as I can stay away from women of the night near LA hotels, I might live a little longer.

Will it be worth it?

By this time, Sam Cooke helped bridge racial gaps in music. Several crossover hits, support for the civil rights music, and a smile that shown through the darkest of nights, Sam Cooke was a magical artisty whose Soulful craft as continued to transcend the generations.

I’ve written a book of blues that could be two books of blues – pending, and have started a prequel. And i’ll work on it once the season premiere of Chuck is over.

I’ll probably live to see tomorrow if the Southwest Florida deep freeze of 2010 doesn’t get the best of Fort Myers, Margaritaville.

I have the longevity, he has the legacy.

Who do you think has had the better life?

(photo credit:  African Goddess 02 via Flickr)

On my last year’s pilgrimage to Ft. Myers, Margaritaville, I blogged every day about the adventure. This year I decided to keep the memories to myself.

On my last year’s pilgrimage to Ft. Myers, Margaritaville, I walked everyday listening to concerts I downloaded from Archive.org. This year, I listen to two songs over and over again.

The first song is “Taking the Long Way Around,” by the Dixie Chicks.

My sister was inspired by the album of the same name and of the journey the Dixie Chicks endured after they spoke out in London about their lack of faith of then-President Bush.

It wasn’t so much that my sister agreed with the Dixie Chicks politics so much as she agreed in their right to say it.

And she admired how The Dixie Chicks were able to come back from the public outlash to win critics and fans back over.

And they did it on their terms. “Six strong hands on the steering wheel.” (Dixie Chicks)

traveling salesman

Originally uploaded by whickus

Even though it meant, “Taking the Long Way Around.”

My sister heard the album and thought of her own journey. I hear the album and think of her journey.

And it inspires me as I start to see the destination up ahead of my own journey.

And it gives me an extra kick as I sprint towards the finish line.

And if you can’t hear the blues in this song, you really don’t understand what makes the blues “the blues.”

And that’s probably my fault.

What makes my sister’s journey so inspiring?

Well, it’s her story, but I’ll give you a hint: It’s got something to do with the second song, which I’ll talk about tomorrow.

Since my 99 week pilgrimage started, I’ve had many people ask what my next steps are going to be. I’ve even gotten a couple projects from these conversations. I am grateful for the questions and appreciative of the concern, but I can’t say for certain, yet, as to where I’m going.

Sleepless nights, numerous conversations, and apprehensive afternoons have been fidgeted away because, like Max Power who had having trouble focusing on his last PPC Hero blog post, I’ve been gripping too hard to the question, “What to do next.”

Then something changed, a little.

1) Bless the cursed marketing promotion for John Mayer’s, “Who Says.” I’m not the biggest John Mayer fan. It’s not because of his talent. He’s a craftsmen. It’s because I haven’t been in his target market of 14-year-old girls. But in his song, “Who Says,” not only is it a well crafted, finger-picked song, but I’ll confess I relate to it.

“It’s been a long time since ’22′
I don’t remember you lookin’ any  better
then again I don’t remember you…”

The images in his video also captivate me:  the sharp lines and right angles of his European-styled apartment, latest fashion trends of his city friends, walking the streets at night, great food, good drink… But none of the scenes caught my attention more than the scene with the old wooden chair along a white wall with a Martin acoustic guitar in its lap 13 seconds in.

Most of us who fall in love with our guitars dream of this spot. Many of us work through our days to get back to this spot at night. I used to even turn off the lights so I wouldn’t watch my fingers.

2) After I saw the “Who Says,” video I stopped over at oldold man Finn’s house to check on his place. He’s snowbirding in Ft. Myers. I’ll be down there soon to visit.

I went into his house, checked the rooms, and saw my Martin guitar sitting in his living room. It’s been sitting there almost two years in its black hardtop case. I don’t have the space to store it and I didn’t have time to play it. I sat in the old dining room chair, pulled the guitar out of its case, and placed it in my lap. The first thing that hit me was the fresh smell of Mahogany. The second thing that hit me was how it felt like I was hugging an old friend.

Some people get into careers to feed themselves. Some get into their careers only as far as it takes to feed their family. I dove deep into my career so I could always have a space to play guitar and work on my book of blues. Once I got in there, I found my career, my guitar playing, and my blues books can all help each other. That’s why my topic of my site is:

“Live Music. Blues Books. Inbound Marketing, Social Media, SEO, Blogging…”

All my passions have become family. Now I have to bring my family together.

I still don’t know where the next step will be, but it’ll involve live music, blues books, and inbound marketing.

It has been a long time since 22. And don’t remember her looking any better, but then again I don’t know if I remember her anymore.

(Here’s a live version of John Mayer’s “Who Says”)

(photo credit:  Marite 2007 via flickr)

(Try planning this kind of fun. Go ahead, good luck)

Tweetups, like Meetups and Networking Events, are always nice to plan. It’s also helpful to be able to pick your venue, plan a menu, craft a guest list, and develop a framework for how the evening should flow in advance. It’s especially helpful to the venue owner in case the numbers attending your event are going to need their own space.

But Tweetups, in their essence, are spontaneous and can’t always be planned. Much like any given day, you never know what’s going to happen…

1. When political protesters in Iraq were getting the word out about places to meet, they couldn’t plan the event. They simply couldn’t risk it.
2. Take last night. The home town was having a “Christmas window” viewing down the main street. Families flocked up and down the street to admire the store owners’ creations. While that was going on, a local company was having a networking event. Those events weren’t going to go on all night yet some of the attendees still wanted to enjoy the night out with friends.

TWEETUP!

A few tweets later and a crew of folks were meeting at a local establishment. Dubbed an “afterweetup” after respect for the local company’s event, the new movement later became an “afteraftertweetup,” when the scene moved to a local Mexican diner for a “nightcap.”

How to Spread the Word About an Unplanned Tweetup

You spread the word on an unplanned tweetup much like you do with a planned tweetup. You just do it much more hastily.

• Use familar hastags on twitter to spread the word
• Tweet often
• Don’t be afraid to use Facebook, texts, emails, and that talk feature on the cell phone too.
• Whatever crowd-gathering measures comes to mind
• Repeat with frequency
• Document with photos, videos, tweets, and posts

Then, most importantly, go have some fun.  Before too long, word gets out about the events and people start to get used to the “planned spontaneity.”

TweetUp HashTags in Northwest Indiana

There are a few hashtags those in The Region use to announce Tweetups

• #nwindiana
• #nwitweetup
• #nwi
• #aftertweetup
• #afteraftertweetup
• #nwitwoker

Keep monitoring tweets with these words. You never know when they’re announcing a tweetup.

How Often Do You Plan a TweetUp?

(photo credit:  Svavar Trausti via Flickr)

(I’m working towards this scene, but forgetting to rest as I go)

I woke up, got prepared for a meeting in New Buffalo, MI, and called to confirm. They answered, said it would be better if I backed it up a day, and I was none more thankful. Now I’m backing up my trip to Indy.

Heaven bless the nature of the business.

See the night before I went out with my old boss and a few co-workers. My old boss claimed it was my birthday and people flocked out. Imagine my surprise. Not only that, it was my third birthday this year. And a, “thank you,” goes out to all who came.

Sometimes you have to blow off steam. I forget that.

I don’t do it enough. I try to pretend I’m a machine. I think about how I’ve got 16 days before I go to Ft. Myers, Margaritaville for three weeks and then think I can work straight on till I board the plane.

I’m not a machine.

So when I went back to bed and didn’t wake up until 3pm, refreshed, invigorated, and mostly free from Gumballhead hangover, my body was trying to remind me to balance myself.

In sports, they would call my last few weeks, “playing to the level of the competition.” Some teams can give the best in their sport a run for their money on any given night and then turn around and falter to the league doormats.

If I can’t perform at my best every day, then I’ll never get to where I want to go. Right now, I have no real pressure or deadlines except ones I imply on myself. The best realize the only real pressure to worry about is the pressure to be the best “you” you can be. Everything is temporal and fades away with time.

I’m getting too old not to remember that.

And someday, I’ll be a craftsman.

Are you doing your best every day?

(Photo Credit: Pat Kono via Flickr)

(“Never Been to Spain” by Three Dog Night. Video by?????)

Talk of Aaron’s Sorkin’s SportsNight at work lead to a talk to about how Season 1, Episode 19, Eli’s Coming, featured not one but two Three Dog Night songs. Yes, very good. The other being Never Been to Spain.

Never have quited figured out the point of Never Been to Spain, but I think that’s the point. So the song blues’, “What Does it Matter?”

This is the lesson I’m learning this week.

When I was 19 I knew where life was going. When I was 22, life was gone. Now that I’m a few (hundred) days older, I’m starting to put it back together. This time, I’m going through life without preconceptions. This way, I experience the adventures and quit comparing to the life I thought I was going to lead.

“What does it matter?”

Case in point:  I’ve got an ungodly amount of buddies who are college professors. Most of them figured I”d be the professor, but sadly the time in the denominational fishbowl made me claustrophobic. Still, Life found a chorus to repeat.

One of those buddies just approached me with the idea of doing a college textbook that incorporates both my bachelor degrees as well as all of my field experience.

At first I felt the fishbowl closing around me. I was a little apprehensive, but it passed. The fact the buddy already has the U’s support helped. I suppose we can all be Corporate Whores, even when faced with old war wounds. But can I face the Denominational University demons and embrace such a challenge?

We’ll, I’m already running the sketch through my head to the tune of Never Been to Spain, reminding myself…

What does it Matter?