The Domino Effect

Lately, I’ve read many pieces from the, increasing, group of folks I’ve subscribed to, and especially enjoy the ones where music is included. One of the first things VOCAL+ published for me was “Thank You Music, My Therapist”, which pretty much makes music, at least in the background, a prerequisite for shaking the memory tree in my head to release through my heart, the great editor, words that speak the feelings of the boy I was and the man, albeit old(er) that I am.

I, also, have hungrily eaten many lines of poetry, and am amazed at the depth they reach from such sadness and depression, or horrific considering the season, to love on many different levels. As a high schooler, I wrote much poetry; but the years and life put restrictions on my thinking and time. Such is not the case now. I have time and look forward to proudly publishing purposeful prose prolifically. (Sorry-lol)

I will say with (as of this writing) 115 to whom I have subscribed, it’s nearly impossible to read all of them each day, especially when some get several published at once. I have been spending so much time reading, enjoying, learning, that I don’t take time to write, which is why I joined in the first place. I’ll read 20 or so a day, when I can, but I need to write for my own, a little bit every day, so I won’t get fired, Courtney Capone

I’ve been pouring through my Facebook blogs, as part of my idea gathering strategy for stories I plan to write, as well as to try to put some chronology to those same blogs for what would be a book, one day.

So, in conclusion, ladies and gentlemen of the jury; as the winds of a rainy Nor’easter sweep up the east cold, bringing a foretasting of a winter to come to little Thomaston, Maine, where long ago sea captains came home to rest.

Yesterday, I came across an old Facebook blog, which touched me the same way it did 4 years ago.

Oct. 26, 2017 Facebook Rambling by just sayin’

“Blueberry Hill”, “I’m Walkin’”, “My Blue Heaven”, “Ain’t it a Shame”; just a few and dozens more Antoine “Fats” Domino songs, sprinkled around in my prepubescent and early teen years. I read today of his death and am saddened. Closing my eyes and thinking back to those years, from about 1955 to 1965, there’s always a Fats Domino tune to fill any gap. Even now, I think of “Let the 4 Winds Blow” as only one example. My recollection of those times, being a short little fattish boy from just south of Boston, was free from prejudice, unaware, for the most part, from the social injustices of those times. Sheltered, no doubt, by parents who never said anything disparagingly of someone’s skin color, or origin, or belief. Negatives were restricted to terms like Nazi, rapist, or anyone who would hurt a child. I think they led by their actions, and kindness toward everyone, steering clear of those who negatively impacted, while selflessly running toward those that needed a word, a buck, a sweater. In my sphere, music flourished. Fats, and Nat King Cole and Brooks Benton, Ella Fitzgerald, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Jo Stafford, Rosemary Clooney, the great guitarist Johnny Smith all equally loved and held high for their music alone. Of his partner’s contributions to rock history, David Bartholomew said Domino is "just like the cornerstone — you build a new church and you lay the cornerstone, and if the church burns down, the cornerstone is still there." Amen to that. Even though it’s Thursday, I’m listening, as I close, to “Blue Monday”. Thank you, Lord for this man, “Fats”. Be well all, loving you always, jusy sayin’

And so it goes, for this day. I love all you all, as my Georgia friends would put it.