It’s taken a couple days to get back into the groove back home. I’ve been gone four weeks and the world feels like it’s passed me by. Thus is the tempo of Internet marketing.

Therein it goes

I just finished working on wearing out my running shoes. And I just finished killing some ants at oldold man Finn’s summer place – when saving a jam basket, make sure it’s all cleaned out. Now comes the task of waiting for messages to be returned, compiling the to-do list, and reminding myself that the Book of Blues Prequel won’t write itself.

So long as I can stay busy, I can keep managing my winter blues…so I hope.

And another ant down. It’s a 33-degree day in The Region. Where the hell are they coming from?

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I’m on Southwest Flight 138 in Fort Myers, headed for Chicago w a stop in St Louis. And my judgment is skewed, subjected to my bittersweetness of leaving oldold man Finn, my love for my second home – Ft. Myers, Margaritaville – and claustrophobic barriers being pummeled by an unusual selection of self-centered passangers not wanting to share seats. my need to escape this eerie chi is only magnified my feeling that this flight is ominous.

I hope my senses are off.

luckily 1) I got the aisle and 2) the nicest person in the cabin is now sitting next to me. He’s a boy, not much older than 12. Already lost in his book, he seems to share my need to simply get this flight moving. he doesn’t hold the same angered expressions the elders in the front held.

time to shut this down. don’t need the iPhone wordpress app to be the predestined reason for my fears.

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So I was falling asleep on the couch after dinner Saturday night as oldold man Finn watched The Lawrence Welk Show. An uncommon occurrence indeed. Somewhere ’round the end of “Huckabee” I woke up with a tune in my head.

I thought the tune was played on The Lawrence Welk Show, but then I remembered the show’s theme was Disney and that I couldn’t have fallen asleep faster to the alluring sounds of The Mickey Mouse Club Mambo.

What the hell?…

The tune in my head wouldn’t have fit the pattern. Merle Haggard would have set the set of the show on fire if his outlaw gem was in the same show as the Mickey Mouse Club Mambo.

No one could steer him right, but Mama Tried, Mama Tried…

If you check the playlist above, you’ll find some great renditions of the definitive outlaw song:

• Merle Haggard’s (studio cut)
• Johnny Cash
• Grateful Dead at Woodstock
• Everly Brothers on the Smothers Brothers Variety Show (What the F*CK?)
• David Allen Coe (and if that ain’t country, you can kiss his a**)
• Willie, Merle, and Toby

Road Tested

The oldold man & I tested out several of this classic as we headed back from the Ocean on our road trip.“Mama Tried” became our unofficial theme song of our road trip.

Yeah, I’m finding Grateful Dead covers he’ll hum along too. His repressed outlaw is coming out.

The more I research for Book of Blues Prequel and the farther along I go in Plan B, the more I can’t escape the bond between Country & Western Outlaws and Blues leaders. I didn’t place “Mama Tried” in the Book of Blues – nearly a shame but for the fact I can put it in the Prequel, and perhaps the Blues Book Sequel. I think I know how I’d do it to.

But getting back to that Saturday night, as I hummed the chorus:

It dawned on me where I heard the song…

As I was in an out of consciousness before The Lawrence Welk Show, oldold man Finn was watching the Time Life Gold Age of Country infomercial.

F-in’ infomercials. Will I ever escape them?

It only shows that inspiration can come from damned places.

Speaking of oldold man Finn

He made it out to the Florida Gulf Coast University men’s basketball game just fine last night. And he still made his bike ride, too. The old man is still leaving footprints.

And I’m breathing easier.

(photo credit: J.W. Doran [and MERLE!] via Flickr)

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And once in awhile, the unexpected happens…

Oldold Man Finn and I took off for Clewiston, Florida at about 10:30 am this morning. He wanted to show me a little bit of Florida history during this “bad” weather – bad as in “it hasn’t broken 60 in a few a days.”

Clewiston sits on the southern edge of Lake Okeechobee. It’s the home of US Sugar Company, the company that once owned the historic Clewiston Inn where the oldold Man and I had lunch.

The Clewiston Inn looks like a classic Southern Inn on the outside with a two-story, white marble column entrance. Its inside has decor that pays homage to the Everglades – wildlife, fishing, hunting…

Glorious wooden greeting room, a legendary lounge with a wall-to-wall mural painted by a local artist, Clewiston Inn was indeed a nice little local treasure.

While at lunch, I got a call from a buddy who suggested I write about the Clewiston Inn. I might still do that. I took pictures and I’ll put them in a Flickr gallery when I get back home.

But it was after lunch that stirred the imagination

As we were leaving the parking lot at Clewiston Inn and heading a mile down the road towards “the last light in town” (because our waitress thought we knew where that was) which would take us to a scenic trail for Lake Okeechobee, I pointed out the there are roads that circle the water.

“Yeah, but you really don’t see the lake,” he pointed out.

If the “scenic” trail was any indication, then he was dead on. We shoulda brought the boat we don’t have.

As we were comin’ back from the “scenic” trail, I played around on Google Maps to check our trail back when something surprising caught my eye:

I pointed out to the oldold man that we were actually closer to West Palm Beach (~ 45 miles) then we were to Ft. Myers (~72 miles).

“Oh yeah? You know of West Palm Beach?”

“My once-employer used to have an office there.”

He hemmed and hawed as we started to head back towards Ft. Myers.

A couple miles later he pulled into a gas station.

“You have three-quarters of a tank left,” I noted.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t turn around on the road.”

“We’re actually going to tour Lake Okeechobee?”

“Nope.”

And before I knew it, we were headed for the Atlantic Ocean.

I’ll write more about the trip in the next couple days, but for now I was overwhelmed by the fact he turned around. I knew the oldold man still had it in him.

I think he’s starting to realize the vitality of his age.

I’m older than I care to admit and today I got to take an unplanned, college-style roadtrip from the Gulf of Mexico to the Atlantic Ocean and back with my 84-year-old grandfather.

And if you’ve been reading, then yeah, with “six strong hands on the steering wheel.”

I can’t wait to script this into the Book of Blues Prequel. I can’t wait for the family to find out.

And by the way, Google Maps, it didn’t take us 1 day, 16 hours to drive the 46.2 miles. He doesn’t drive that slow.

Does anyone in your life need to re-remember what makes life worth living? Have you done anything with them to remind them?

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Link to “Oldold Man’s Never Been to Fenway – Part 1″

My aunt and uncle just took a tour of New England. One night put them close to the college town in Maine where I was born. She called from near my hometown and I asked her if she would take me pictures of the place since I hadn’t been there in awhile. She obliged.

Family is good like that.

I bought up the fact that speaking of places never visited, her  dad – Oldold man Finn – had never been to Fenway Park. She nonchalanted: (more…)

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