Chimes of Freedom...Ranting of an old Folkie

Readers...I love you,, miss you.   I've got a few old posts in this blog about songs I've fallen in love with.  And references to other songs that touch our lives.  With Covid19  here to stay for a while,  it seems to me that all things relate to the troubles we're having and are still to have.  The virus is the backdrop of our lives.  There is poetry by Bob Dylan written when he was a 20 year kid that I knew way back then but I was full of hormones and didn't see the imagery from a genius.  It's important for me to talk about the song "Chimes of Freedom" as it speaks to all of us in terms of our pandemic.        But I just have to set myself up personably by mentioning a more mainstream song by Dylan:  "Mr. Tambourine Man."  If you have ever heard that song or the "Chimes" song,  you heard the Byrds who had these songs on the charts.  Both songs are incredible lyrically and can stand alone as poems.  They were both written in 1964.  After "Blowin in the Wind"  by Dylan went on the charts by Peter Paul and Mary and the Kingston Trio etal.   "Tambourine Man" was this long busy lyrical esoteric autobio ballad.  Really beautiful.  The Byrds did this bubbly melodic tuney cover.  It had guitar tricks and one chorus then one and only one verse,  then guitar tricks and a final chorus.  Maybe ran 3 minutes which is long for a single.   But Dylans poem of Tambourine had five verses spiced with so much metaphor  you realize every single line of it is metaphor,  and alliteration.  Dylan's howling bitter rendition maybe ran 6 or seven minutes and wasn't going to be on any Billboard 100 chart which was just being invented.  Before that: hits were on...remember the top 40?   In one of the verses Dylan describes himself as he tells the Tambourine man not to pay him any mind and if he hears "vague traces of skipping reels of rhyme,  to his tambourine in time ,  it'll just be him, a ragged clown behind, just chasing a shadow he's seeing down the ancient empty streets too dead for dreaming"      Dylan is a character in his own poem.   And in this other song "Chimes of Freedom"      Dylan again is a character.  Dylan shouts out to the underdogs with pain in his heart.  In the song, he narrates that this  character, and a friend  get caught in a huge thunderstorm.  They duck inside a doorway just in time and watch a spectacle.   My heart rediscovered this song as I was trying to pray and pray for so many people over these few months that seem like years..or minutes?  Dylan saw the "majestic bells of bolts" striking like chimes and the thunder was endless tolling of deep bells.   The bells were tolling for the warriors whose strength is not to fight.  And tolling for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight. And for each and every underdog soldier in the night.  And they gazed upon these Chimes of Freedom flashing.  They tolled for the searching ones on their speechless seeking trail.  They tolled for broken hearted lovers with too personal a tale.  They tolled for each unharmful gentle soul misplaced inside a jail.  They tolled for the aching ones whose wounds can not be nursed.  They tolled for the countless misused, accused, abused, strung out ones and worse.  They tolled for every hung up person in the whole wide universe.  And they gazed upon the Chimes of  Freedom flashing.   I want to dedicate this post today, Memorial Day,  to the fallen soldiers as they lie in Arlington, and Flanders Fields,  and in hometown churchyards, and everywhere.  And I dedicate this post to the 100 thousand we have lost to the virus,  and to their families.  And I dedicate this post to all the front liners in hospitals,  clinics, testing labs, virus research labs,  Doctors, Nurses, graduating med students beginning their careers in a trial by fire,  essential employees at fast food, curb restaurant food,  Lowes,  Home Depot,  Tractor Supply,  The Press and journalists guarding our democracy,  the entertainers very young and old raising millions for equipment and other needs for front liners and the homeless.  And I dedicate this post to the Homeless and hungry and those nearing hunger.  I ask that this virus not be political.  We all survive together or we all fail together.  There is only this one human race on the planet.  We are all in the same sinking boat.  We all ride on a ship called earth.  If something happens bad due to abuse of the earth we all will suffer together.  We only have the one earth.  We don't have a spare race car.   People be nice and be kind and be your brothers keeper.  If you want to gather in groups in church be very careful.  Remember one of the most profound verses in the New Testament:  Jesus tells us NOT to be like the Hippocrates and worship where all can see how pious we are.  Jesus says in Matthew 6 v5...."go into your room,  close the door and pray to your father..he knows what you need before you ask him"   Then Christ says....          "This,then is how you pray":   Our Father who art in heaven...…..etc.   In this same verse he teaches the Lord's prayer!   If you want to stay safe sheltering at home,  it's not just OK.     Jesus recommends it!    This is the longest post ever.  Is this what eternity looks like?      LLITTU     :::::+:::::

Shed Some Light

Hey folks.  I hope you are all staying safe and healthy.  If you can't I am praying for you. Almost every morning I awake with troubles on my mind.  My fault.  My mind.  The troubles are outside of    me.  And should not be able to make me afraid or sad or anxious.  I'm workin' on that.  Now that the US "economy"  is "opening up"  I may be against the grain a bit.  My wife and I have been staying home.  Even before the pandemic I was staying at home mostly.  Just being asocial because I could.         "Hey Lloyd,  why do you have long hair?   "Because I can".    Hey Lloyd,  you own an airplane,     wouldn't you just like to take a nice ride in it?     "Not particularly".   " Hey Lloyd,   Aren't you dying to go to fly ins and car shows and auctions?"   "No.  I'm busy not dying."                                      Our state is still in a form of lock down stay home.  But Lowes has been open the whole time.  Home Depot too.  The fixer up sweat equity industry is thriving.   We have a little shed/stable in our back yard.  Also a 30X40 barn/shop.  In a 65mph gust a few weeks ago, half of the shingles blew off the little sheds roof with the tar paper still holding them together.  It's a little Amish built shed that had a warranty.  So my wife calls the dealership in Harrington who sold us the shed and sent pictures of the wind event.  The dealer called the Amish manufacture and two days later these 2 Amish guys from Lancaster, PA.  show up.  They have a compressor/ generator,  shingle bundles, a small dumpster,  air hammers, etc.  They were there 90 minutes with a perfect match on the shingles and loaded up the old shingles.  My wife gathered up all the cash we could muster and went out to send the guys off north.  She asked what we owed them,  they said nothing at all per warranty.  They smiled when she gave them a little roll of bills and said at least we'll get your dinner.  Maybe we should get the Amish folks in Lancaster to handle our federal supply chain for the pandemic!                                                                                                                                                                                         Talk to you soon.      LLITTY                                                        

April, Come she has

Hello readers.  I hope you are safe.  To all of you on the front lines:  thank you.  You are brave and kind. Literally risking your lives every exhausting day. I am praying for you all the time.  I can't seem to think about anything except the pandemic.    To prevent myself from melting down into panic and despair I have to turn my ever thinking mind off.  The way to do it is:  stop time,  be present in the moment.  The now.  Be your dog.  Some folks escape their tormenting mind with alcohol.  It works for a while.  Then you sober up and get sadder than before.  Same with other drugs.  Except for a few that can show you the Now, and once you can find the presence,  you won't need the drug anymore.  My wife and I,  like everyone else,  have nothing but free time sheltering at home.  That's why I can write here,  which I haven't done much of for four years.  The grass is growing here now.   I've got my JD zero turn out and pumped up.  I used to like mowing because it gave me time to think.  I would go back and forth on brain autopilot planning the future,  worrying.    Dwelling on the past,  trying to spin it.  Now when I mow I am "present" on the job.  With every pass,  every turn,  every height adjustment.  I am conscious of my inner body sitting on the machine.  I am conscious of the grass clippings.  The smell of the grass.  The smell of the neighbor's fertilizer,  my wife's voice calling the dogs.  I used to hustle as sunset approached because I wanted to finish up on "time".  This is an example of how the pandemic and my study of the "presence process" seem to converge in my life.  I love to mow.  I missed a lot of the mowing in my life because I wasn't "there". Flying is different.  For another post.  I noticed that some of the ballads I like to sing seem to refer to the Now.  I never noticed that.  Jim Croce had a cool line in a song called "Hey Tomorrow".  He said:  "Hey tomorrow...   I'm through wastin' what's left of me."   Dylan had a song I used to sing "Chimes of Freedom"  the Byrds smoothed it out and made it listenable,  a tad bubblegummy.  Just like they did with Dylan's  "Mr. Tambourine Man".  In the last phrases of Chimes of Freedom is the line:  "Starry eyed and laughing,  I recall when we were caught ….  could find no track of hours for they hang suspended.  We listened one last time and we watched with one last look...Spellbound and swallowed till the tolling ended."  The narrator is describing some kids in the Now.   My friends I love you.  Be safe.  It's 5:30.  I shall go mow a bit and watch the sunset.      LLITTY      :::::+:::::

Stream of Consciousness

A blog post from Lloyd after months of nada.  Here comes more nada. Who knows, maybe a tidbit of something coherent.  I feel lucky.  That's a weird thing to say considering we are just at the beginning, on Sunday March, 29, 2020, of this pandemic.  I feel thankful.  I am thankful for the dedication of our health professionals.  I am concerned, frightened and saddened about them as their PPE safety equipment is either in extremely short supply or non-existent.  There is a lot of tragedy to go around. There is a lot of heroic sacrifice and bravery too.  I'm grateful to be on the sideline and not in the arena.  But I have a question. Since I was already burned out over the last six years with some tough changes.  And I had worked on ways of forgetting the past and realizing I couldn't predict the future.  And sometimes I can successfully stop time and it's trappings and just "be".  Turning off one's mind is no easy task.  But I've had some good teachers, and it's not rocket science.  Takes practice.  OK here's my question.  In the face of the crisis,  when my only job is "shelter at home".  Should I feel guilty because I can unplug it all, and not just be free of despair,  but actually be happy in the moment. Two out of three mentors couldn't handle the question much better than I could.  I did get the answer from a Sioux Indian's book.  Written by Billy Mills.  A guy who won the 10,000 meter run in the Olympics in Japan in 1964.  Never been won by an American before,  and never won by an American since.  His story and his teachings made me cry.  After my cancer treatments I used to cry a lot.  Usually it was when I was talking about a friend or family member and describing their strength, wisdom and kindness.  But back about a year ago,  the crying slowed down and stopped.  Now with the pandemic it has come back again.  When I think of, or talk about the health professionals,  some who are friends and family.  I'm glad the crying is back.  I know it means I'm a bit mental,  but I don't care.   Readers.. I love you.  Please be safe.   Now I shall read a book about "showing up"  in one's own life! With my wife's cat.  She's a portal to the "Now".        LLITTY           :::::+:::::

December is here in full swing.  Mostly I've been hiding in my rooms.  My rooms are: a bedroom too small to accommodate it's queen sized bed,  a   den too small to be called a bedroom,  and a barn corner with a small wood stove.  All together they could be considered a spartan man cave. I watch a lot of Hallmark movies  Read books a chapter at a time.  Take my pills and my insulin.  Watch my wife come and go through her busy schedule.  She's fun to look at.  December has gotten so busy that I find myself overwhelmed.  An old Tin Pan Alley song sums it up for me: "May all your days be merry-  Your seasons full of cheer-  but "till it's January-  I'll just go and disappear-  Santa may have brought you some stars for your shoes- But Santa only brought me the Blues....Those brightly packaged, tinsel covered,  Christmas------Blues!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

Lucky 13

Hey friends.  Merry Christmas.  Time for more Delaware musings.  We moved into our "downsize"
house in Delaware about a year and a half ago.  It suits us fine.
Back when we lived in Maryland I used to do a lot of shopping along the Delaware Rt. 13 "retail corridor".  Our old place was only 22 miles from our new place.  Our new place is crazy near that "retail corridor"  So now when I shop in Seaford,  I'm hanging out where I used to,  for the last 27 years. All this is on the Delmarva Peninsula.  Rt. 13 is a north/south road that kind of bisects the peninsula.  From our house we can hear trucks on Rt.13.  A distant roar.  We can hear train whistles
too.  I like those.  Our neighborhood is farms and forest and suburbia.  Rt. 13 is in most places a median divided highway.  In most places 55mph.  There are no ramps.  Just stop lights and stop signs.
And tiny towns like Greenwood,  and bigger towns like Dover and Salisbury.  Rt. 13 goes thru 3
states:  Delaware, Maryland and Virginia.  Rt. 13 is full of:  hidden entrances,  vegetable stands,
strip malls, Royal Farms gas stations, farm fields, forests, traffic lights, main streets in small towns.
Rt. 13 is one big automobile accident.  Exactly one year ago on our wedding anniversary we were coming home from a wonderful dinner at the best restaurant in Seaford.  We were sitting at a red light of course on Rt. 13.  We got smashed fairly hard in the rear end.  We were the last car hit in a five car
accident.  Welcome to Delaware and Rt. 13.  Happy Anniversary.  Luckily we weren't hurt.  The other 4 cars, not so lucky.  Fortunately no one killed.

Now it's this year's anniversary.  Wife and I went to a place in Milford we like called "Irish Eyes".
A fun time.  So driving home it crossed our minds that this time last year we had a mishap.
I was telling wife that I thought the Subaru was whining or groaning especially at highway speeds.
She took the car in to the shop the following day. They found the noise:  wheel bearings going bad on rear wheels.  While they were at it: oil change, oil pan leak, front brakes.  So:  Eastern Shore Lloyd:
"you just tore up 1700 bucks".  Happy Anniversary!

The day before our anniversary I went out  to Rt. 13 to get wife an anniversary card.  I went to seven! different places on the Rt. 13 retail corridor.   The very first place I stopped was an antique store called "Antique Alley".  I got her a nice old butterfly pin.  I saw some tumblers with cartoon characters on them and I fell in love with them.  I will give them as Christmas gifts.  After our anniversary I was showing my December bride the glasses and she asked if she could have the
"Tweety bird" glass.  I went through the seven glasses I had bought and found the "Sylvester" glass.
I put the two glasses on the kitchen counter where she was making lemon tarts and said:  "This is a set.  I got them out on Rt, 13.  Happy Anniversary and Merry Christmas"!

OK.  This post is way too long and I've forgotten how to write.  I gotta go out to Lowes now.
Guess where that is.

LLITTY       :::::+:::::
 

Stream of Consciousness

Hello Readers.  I love you.  Here it is November 12th in Delaware.  The high yesterday was 73.  It is snowing as I write!  Plan for today:  Write here.  Watch the snow turn to rain.  Watch the rain. Watch   Hallmark Christmas movies.  Stare into the abyss.

Here's a little Delaware story.   When we moved the 20 miles from our Maryland farm,  I moved three hobby cars with me.   One was a 1970 VW Beetle.  I have a post or two about the car years ago in this blog.  Last Spring I took the Beetle to Georgetown,  De, with it's Maryland tags, to the MVA for inspection.  It failed in a hundred ways.  But it was running great and had brand new tires and every single light worked and wipers and everything else.  So I drove the car away from the test bays and over to the admin building.  I talked to the folks there ( after a wait of course) about antique or historic tags.  But,  long story,  no joy.  So I wander out to the parking lot a very sad bug owner. While I was getting ready to leave,   a passerby  said to me  "nice beetle".  Then I heard myself say    
" Yeah,  you want to buy it,  it just flunked inspection!"  The guy says simply and quietly, "yes".
"How much you want for it?".  I hear myself say:  "I just put a grand into it.  It's worth $4 K  even without the inspection.  I'll take $2K- or offer!"  He says I love it I want it but there is one thing
I have to check.  Let me pull out the back seat and see the battery compartment.  If there is rust there it is usually bad.  I said OK as long as you yank the seat and reinstall it.  So he does,  and it is fine.
We shake on the $2K .   A few hours later he shows up at our house with the cash.  After title etc.    
he says "this is kind of a coincidence deal".  I said "because I sold you a car in the MVA parking lot
on the spur of the moment?".  He said, "well yeah, this is a very cool house, and  my high school science teacher built this house and I have been in it several times years ago.