From Wikipedia: ““Ave Maria” is a popular and much recorded setting of the Latin text Ave Maria.Written by French Romantic composer Charles Gounod in 1859, “Ave Maria” consists of a melodysuperimposed over the Prelude No.1 in C Major from the Well-Tempered Clavier - Book I (BWV 846), composed by J.S.Bach some 137 years earlier, however there is an additional bar in the Gounod so as to smooth out a rough change in harmony in the prelude. The result is a remarkable juxtaposition of these short works by two unrelated composers that fits perfectly as a melody and accompaniment.”
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One of the prettiest and most relaxing, transcendental versions is by the group ‘Celtic Women’.
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Pavarotti does a more vigorous less relaxing version… but still done in his inimitable classic style.
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Bobby McFerrin uses his talent to show students how the composition was fit together.
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Barbara Bonney does a great version which is sung in German.
Heavenly, ethereal…. like the voice of an angel.
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But of them all, none beat the beauty and depth of Jewel’s version…
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Coincidentally, the next town over is named Santa Maria
A church in Oceano California, Christmas eve, 2008
“Oranges and lemons,” rang the bells of St Clemens.
“You owe me three farthings!” rang the bells of St. Martin’s.
“When will you pay me?”, rang the Bells of St. Davey.
“When I grow rich!”, rang the Bells of Shoreditch.
The money would be pretty good
if a quart of milk were still a dollar
or even if a quart of milk were still a quart
And the hours, well, I don’t mind
how they creep on by like an old love of mine
it’s the years that simply disappear that are doing me in
Guess I married too young,
yeah, nineteen was just too young,
but sometimes you meet someone
and your guts just burn
It’s not that I don’t love him anymore
it’s just that when I hear him
coming through that front door
my heart doesn’t race like it did once before
But I’ve got a horse out in the country
I get to see him every second Sunday
He comes when I call him,
yeah, he knows his name
One day I’ll saddle up
and the two of us will ride away
This weather I could almost stand
if the sun would shine a little brighter
or even if the sun would shine at all
But lately it just seems to me
that this life has lost its mystery
and these cold fall mornings seem to bite
just a little bit harder
And all my friends have settled down
become their mothers and their fathers
without a sound
Except for Cathy,
she bought a one-way subway ticket
and left us all behind
But I’ve got a horse out in the country
I get to see him every second Sunday
He comes when I call him,
yeah, he knows his name
One day I’ll saddle up
and the two of us will ride away
This town wouldn’t be so bad
if a girl could trust her instincts
or even if a girl could trust a boy
There are some people who love to get grammer down to the nitty gritty. They come up with things like this…
“Lie is what they call an intransitive verb. This means it can’t take an object. Lay is transitive and it needs an object.”
or
“Once you have lie/lay and lay/laid memorized, you are very nearly ready to claim mastery over this common grammar gremlin. There are just two more inflections to learn: the present and past participles.”
Yeah, this reminds me of third grade grammar classes.
Anyways, I don’t talk right…. but I’m making this link so I can always go back and decide if my chickens are laying eggs, or if going to lie down….
Anything you wish to do, you can try yourself and beat yourself up finding the way on your own… or you can reduce misery, pain and the time issue by going to one of the masters of that issue. Learn from the best, there’s no substitute to learning from other peoples mistakes.
The bone you save may be your own.
One of our neighbors is the World Champion bullrider Gary Leffew. He’s got a Bull Riding School here in the canyon.
I’ve done a fair amount of fun and wild things… but I prefer to have the controls of the machines in my hands… with bull riding, it seems the controls are in the hands of the bulls. But Gary has a lot of insight to give young riders. He approaches bullriding from both a mechanical standpoint, and a mental perspective. He gives tips on placement and strategy as well as mental conditioning, meditation and visualization.
One of Gary Leffew’s Bulls. Nipomo California.
If you want to learn to ride a bull, look Gary Leffew up on the Internet….. when he puts on one of his classes you can stay there in the bunkhouse for a week and learn how to reduce damage while bull riding.
Here he gives some of his patented information out….
Bullriding is a spectacular/gruesome sport, and an awesome spectacle to watch. But, no thanks… I don’t want to ride a bull…. but I’m just happy as anything to take pictures from the other side of the fence!
My parents and I went to visit my uncle in Glendale this weekend. He’s in a nursing home… someone broke into his home, and hit the 92 year old blind WWII veteran over the head, and left him laying on the floor unconscious. We don’t know how long he laid there in that state, a day or two. He was dehydrated and unconscious when his housekeeper came in the following Monday. Now he is a bit less mobile, and has to be cared for which is something an independent guy like him does not much like. I have seen this short film called ‘Reveille’ before, and liked it then… and each time I see old old veterans, I think of uncle Bob…. this video reminds me even more of him now.
As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me time is not long
Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green
Now Fiddler’s Green is a place I’ve heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to hell
Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away
Now when you’re in dock and the long trip is through
There’s pubs and there’s clubs and there’s lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there’s bottles of rum growing on every tree.
Where the skies are all clear and there’s never a gail
And the fish jump on board with one swish on their tail
Where you lie at your leisure, there’s no work to do
And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew
Now I don’t want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I’ll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the riggin to sing me a song
A quarter century ago, a church in a nearby town was having a Christmas show. This show entailed a huge map-drawing of the Holy Land on the church floor. Each city and town with a mention in the Bible had a small group of church members depicting some famous scene from the Bible.
This show seemed very interesting to me, it would combine so many of my favorite subjects; geography, sociology, religion, acting (through the actions of the actors) and perhaps plants (I mean, there is a whole slew of plants mentioned in the Bible, one could have a great time building one’s own ‘Biblical Garden’ using such plants).
So it was with a happy heart, high with the season of Christmastime which has always been my favorite season when everyone seems so much more jubilant and positive than most of the year, I decided to go and see this celebration. The event was going on through the entire day, so I could show up any time between the posted hours and see the show. Since we usually get such fine weather in December, and the sun was shining warm on this Saturday morning, I decided to take my motorcycle. Now, my motorcycle is a bit like me, it’s loud strong and large. And put me on that chopped 1960 Harley with my big leather jacket with all my 6′4″ 235 lbs stuffed in and covered with hair, leather, denim and boots… and pull up to a church parking lot and walk in…. I think I kind of scared them. I was nice, I waited in the line in the lobby and signed the ledger book, smiling and talking nice like I usually do with people, and two fellows in suits came up and whispered to the lady behind the table, and after they walked away she looked up at me, with vacant eyes, kind of a Stepford imitation, and she said “I’m sorry, but we don’t think this is the right church for you”.
Smiling, aware of how I scared them by my appearance, I explained I wasn’t there to join their church, but I was coming to see the public event they had advertised in the paper. She replied in the same way “we don’t think this is the right church for you”. Well, if my looks will scare people enough that they can’t be comfortable, I’d rather not put them through the discomfort. So I told her that I’d just leave, and wished her a Merry Christmas.
Ol’ Betsy started up on the first kick, I dropped her into first gear and started up the road, heading onto Santa Rosa road, and went over to Solvang where I just blend into the Scandinavian population. And I had a Happy and Merry Christmas time.
‘Wind Up’
~Jethro Tull~
When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game,
I didn’t mind if they groomed me for success,
Or if they said that I was a fool.
So I left there in the morning
With their God tucked underneath my arm –
Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.
So I asked this God a question
And by way of firm reply,
He said — I’m not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before I’m through I’d like to say my prayers…
I dont believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong…
Hes not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excomunicate me on my way to sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines…
How do you dare tell me that I’m my fathers son
When that was just an accident of birth.
I’d rather look around me… compose a better song
`cause that’s the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me,
As you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I don’t believe you;
You had the whole damn thing all wrong…
Hes not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Jethro Tull, Live in Florence, 1988
‘Wind Up’
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~Khalil Gibran~
I have learnt silence from the talkative,
toleration from the intolerant,
and kindness from the unkind;
yet strange,
I am ungrateful to these teachers.
This is me in 2007… hard as it is to believe, in 1984 I was even hairier.
On the one hand I don’t blame the people for being afraid of me…
But it would have been nice to be allowed in to see the play.
I’ve been followed by security in stores, been denied admission to a hostel due to my looks, and shuttled to the back and ignored in a restaurant. The police have pulled me over because ‘the sun was reflecting off my tags and they could not tell if they were current or not’, and I was kicked out of the ‘Alamo’ in San Antonio (and threatened with jail) because I had a knife on me….one I carried always out of habit and the fact that I live and work on a farm in the wilderness.
But those are all very rare occurances…
I have been treated with the greatest respect and hospitality by almost everyone I’ve ever met. So for me life has been a half century of learning and loving and living…. I’ve been blessed to have met the people that I have, and everyone whether they treated me ill or kind was a teacher… and from the majority of them, I learned of kindness.
But still it is a nice thing to have a little refuge back in the hills…. away from the teeming masses on the lowlands. A quiet, reverential place is Rivenrock…
Matthew 23:37“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling.
I had a chance to visit Jerusalem in the seventies, a friend had family there, and we weren’t too far away, but I turned the offer down.. and now so many years later, I wish I had gone to such a special place.
Here we have the Reggae artist known as ‘Alpha Blondy’ putting out a great song about Jerusalem…
He sings it in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
