The Land of Hype and Hyperbole

 If only it felt as nice as it looks outside. 

Blue skies, bright, blinding sunshine bouncing off the snow. But it is about 10 degrees with a nasty 30 mile per hour wind, making it feel like -2 degrees Fahrenheit. 

There was a significant snowstorm about 70 miles south of me this weekend. I was right on the border of the storm, stuck in forecast purgatory; literally, "1 inch to 13 inches of snow", but the unknown forced me to stay at my workplace Saturday night (I must be within 20 minutes of my work when I am on-call, and I had no idea what the weather was going to do; nor did Mr. Weatherman). 

Turns out we got perhaps three inches, maximum. 'Tis the "Land of Hype and Hyperbole," I like to call it.

Looking out my window on this chilly Monday, 16 March 2026

Turns out, not much happened workwise this weekend. But it was one of those things where I couldn't do much but wait for my pager to go off, so I made a huge dent in a new book I am reading, John Williams: A Composer's Life by Tim Greiving, which I am just loving.  

I knew nothing about Williams prior to opening this book, and what a life -- what a career!! Of course, he's known for his close association with Spielberg, but Williams was in the music/television/film business for twenty years prior to meeting Spielberg. 

Williams had already scored films such as The Towering Inferno, The Poseidon Adventure, Fiddler on the Roof and Valley of the Dolls as well as made-for-television movies such as Jane Eyre and the infamous (to football fans) Heidi, plus television series like Lost in Space (he wrote the theme song), Gilligan's Island and Wagon Train, just to name a few. If that wasn't enough he had also already won a Grammy and an Academy Award. At 43 years old, he was considered perhaps the best film composer in Hollywood. 

Then he met a 25 year-old film geek named Steven who was a Williams "fanboy" and desperately wanted to work with the music legend. I think it is very akin to compare their fortuitous union with that of Lennon and McCartney in pop music: the meeting of two geniuses from which the rest of the world was rewarded with a lifetime of entertainment.

One of the interesting bits that I have read is that Spielberg strongly recommended John Williams to his friend George Lucas, who was struggling with a "space opera." Lucas thought it would ultimately be "a film to be watched by 10 year-old boys on a Saturday afternoon." As partial payment for his work, Lucas offered Williams 1% of the film's box office earnings.

Star Wars has earned approximately $10 billion at the box office; 1% of $10 billion is $100 million. Not a bad day's work.

Remember,that's just ONE film. We won't even go into the remainder of the Star Wars series, Jaws, the Indiana Jones series, the Jurassic Park series, E.T. (The Extra Terrestrial), Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Schindler's List, Home Alone, the Harry Potter series... well, you get my drift. The man is simply the greatest movie composer of all time and no one else is even close. Period. (Oh, did I mention Superman?)

Anyway, what I meant to say before going off on this tangent is that I am enjoying this book very much.

So that's it for now. I will update again, soon. Meanwhile I will sit in my easy chair and sadly watch the world burn. I have a feeling the other shoe is going to drop soon, I am just not sure which shoe; I am hopeful of one and fearful of the other. 

I promised myself not to get political on this site, so I will stop there. 

(**Gemini, Google's AI platform, tells me that it was Alec Guiness who was offered a percentage of the box office receipts, not Williams. However, author Tim Greiving has done impeccable, detailed homework in this biography and I trust his years of research over a shitty one second AI search.)

God Speed, Brian Wilson

God Speed, Brian Wilson.

The Beach Boys have always been part of the soundtrack of my life: playlists on my iPod, CD mixes or mix tapes (yeah, I am that old), the Beach Boys have been there. But I've been listening to their music way more than usual since the passing of Brian Wilson. After reading the outpouring of tributes from artists as diverse as Sting to Dolly Parton and all genres in-between, I've really gone through their catalogue and listened again, hearing many things for the first time -- and these are songs I have been listening to for 45+ years. 

A word always used when people talk about Brian Wilson is "genius." And that's exactly what he was. The music that Wilson channeled into notes was (and is) rivaled by very few. His music was complex, yet emotional. He certainly did not follow any rules of music theory, which is what made him unpredictably wonderful. 

The Beach Boys music (which is to say, Brian Wilson's music) was my first real obsession when I was growing up. That might surprise some people who know me, because the assumption is my first love was the Beatles. But I didn't really discover the Beatles until I was in college. 

I was exposed to the Beach Boys from a cassette in the house called Endless Summer which was a Beach Boys greatest hits compilation (Endless Summer was released in the summer of 1974, so I was at least five years old). I don't know whose tape it was or how it got there or even what Beach Boys were. I do remember the tape had a disturbing cover with some pedophile-looking types staring out of green ferns (I will never know how the Beach Boys signed off on that cover because it was not exactly flattering or pleasing to the eye). But, like they say, it's what's on the the inside that counts. 

Some homeless guys on the cover of a great album!

I loved the music on that cassette and my mother allowed it in the house because she loved the harmonies (plus my older brothers listened to the Beach Boys, so she was certainly familiar with the group). I remember playing that tape over and over and over again. Somehow, my young ears knew that these songs were not only impeccably written, but also very important to the music world. I don't know how I knew that, but I did.

Later, when I joined Columbia House Music Club (I think every kid my age had an account with Columbia House, and we all still owe them money), one of the first tapes I bought was Beach Boys Concert, which was recorded in 1964. 

Along with all their hits, the concert featured some great (and some delightfully oddball) cover songs like "Long Tall Texan," (by the Four Flickers), "Papa-Oom-Mow-Mow," (by the Rivingtons), "Let's Go Trippin," (by the inventor of surf music, Dick Dale), and the wonderful "Graduation Day" (by the Four Freshman). The album has fantastic energy and captures the band at their peak. I still listen to this album from time to time. It is a little rough around the edges, but I am okay with that; they clearly didn't doctor anything in post production. Live music isn't meant to be perfect. But those harmonies... man, they are perfect.

A terrific live album

It might be impossible to come up with a top ten list of my favorite Brian Wilson songs, but I will try. And one must keep in mind he wrote other hits not recorded by the Beach Boys ("Surf City" by Jan and Dean, for example). A top ten list will always leave something off that should be there, but here is my humble attempt, in no particular order:

• "'Til I Die" (from the album Surf's Up, 1971. An incredibly emotional and poignant song, even more so when one realizes that Wilson wrote this "when I was depressed and preoccupied with death." The lyrics are simple but haunting, with the end of each verse echoing unanswerable questions such as "How deep is the ocean?" and "How long will the wind blow?" Bandmate Bruce Johnston called this "Brian's heaviest song.")
• "The Warmth of the Sun" (from the album Shut Down Vol. 2, 1964. This was already my favorite Brian Wilson song when I learned, years later, that he wrote it on the evening of November 22, 1963. Wilson said he wrote the song in a half an hour as "a personal response" to the Kennedy assassination. Loss, grief, and ultimately, hope. To me, this is more than a song; it is a spiritual experience. Oddly, it was released as a B side to "Dance, Dance, Dance," in what could be the most bipolar 45 single release in music history!) 
• "In My Room" (from the album Surfer Girl, 1963. According the Wilson, the song was written in just one hour and it features the three Wilson brothers in perfect harmony. "We sounded just like we did in our bedroom all those nights" long before fame.)
• "Kiss Me, Baby" (from the album The Beach Boys Today!, 1965. Another of my personal all-time favorites. The verses are intentionally sparse, then the chorus explodes into so many complementary parts, it makes one's head swim. I've always loved the lyric, "Then I wondered as it got light/Were you still awake like me?") 
• "God Only Knows" (from the album Pet Sounds, 1966. Paul McCartney has famously said this is his favorite song ever written, which is high praise, indeed. Ironically, Wilson said he wrote the song after listening to the Beatles' Rubber Soul album for the first time: "It inspired me to do my own thing, so the next morning I went to the piano and wrote 'God Only Knows'." The song is listed number 11 of the "500 Greatest Songs of All Time," according to Rolling Stone magazine.)

If you don't think this is a masterpiece, you need to listen again.

• "Caroline, No" (from the album Pet Sounds, 1966. A beautiful song about the loss innocence. It was initially called "Carol, I Know," but Wilson changed the title to "Caroline, No" because it matched the song's mood of despair. This song closes the Pet Sounds album and is a complete 180 degree turn from the album's optimistic opener, "Wouldn't It Be Nice," a song that wishes "we were older." Now that innocence is gone. Another gorgeous two minute Brian Wilson masterpiece from an album universally regarded as a masterpiece. Fun fact: the percussion on this song is an empty water cooler jug played in an echo chamber. The Beatles weren't the only experimental ones in the '60s!) 
• "Wendy" (from the album All Summer Long, 1964. This song always appealed to me. I suppose it is just another "break up" song, but it is so beautiful, with that lone E minor in the chord progression ramming home the sadness of the protagonist. It was never released as a single, but the melody never left my brain after I heard it for the first time. Almost five decades later, it is still there!)
• "Don't Worry Baby" (from the album Shut Down Vol. 2, 1964. Wilson said this song was one of the Beach Boys "finest records." It was inspired by the Ronettes "Be My Baby," and Wilson said he even offered the song to the Ronettes, but producer Phil Spector -- a world class asshole -- rejected it because "Phil didn't write it." The genius of this song is the two separate voices, the man's [verse] and the woman's [chorus], and the song quietly modulates to a different key to represent the change in voice at each chorus. It was released as a B side to "I Get Around," which was the Beach Boys first number one hit. No word if Phil Spector regretted his decision.)
• "Girls on the Beach" (from the album All Summer Long, 1964. Title track of the film The Girls on the Beach. It is a hidden gem, not well known among casual fans. Definitely a cousin of "Surfer Girl," but a much more complex arrangement. Wilson called this his "last real surf-type song."
• "Hawaii" (from the album Surfer Girl, 1963. Never released as a single in the US, but this is another hidden gem that I've always loved. The repeating falsetto of the chorus is infectious. No matter how bad your day has been, "Hawaii" will put a smile on your face. A perfect little song in under two minutes.)

There are so many more songs I could talk about. This list could go on forever, just like the genius of Brian Wilson will continue to the end of days. We should all make such a mark in the world.

My band and a video!

Not sure if anybody looks at my little page in the world. I definitely do not come around here much... but here's something kind of neat. I have a band and now we have a short promo video.

Click here to see The Mugwugs in action!

I Delcare This Bathroom Open!

 Yet another long gap between posts. As usual, I think about writing all the time, but never do it. But today seems a good day to mark time.

Our upstairs bathroom renovation is, at long last, finished. It only took five months (literally). The project was started on 23 September 2022 and went through delay after delay, including replacing two (out of three) damaged surround panels, which meant contacting the company not once, but twice, to send replacement panels. Then waiting for the contractor to come back and install them. 

Then we waited for a contractor to put in the flooring. 

Finally we waited for a contractor to drywall around the new shower. First, he was finishing a larger project (which took more than a month), then he was delayed for a month due to illness.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Finally this weekend I put the finishing touches on the project on my own, including caulking, recutting floorboards that no longer fit, and cutting and fitting quarter round molding around the vanity (first time using a miter box and it actually looks nice). 

New flooring replaced crappy linoleum.

Partial picture of the surround. Only one panel was undamaged when we opened the original box.

My very first attempt at cutting a 45 degree angle using a miter box. The molding was $17 so there was a little pressure to get it right the first time.

After the new tub went in, waiting for undamaged panels. We looked at this for two months. You can see the old linoleum floor in the lower part of the picture. 

I also completed our taxes today. So, it's been a productive weekend. On top of that, I took a major fall in my driveway today--slipped on the ice. Luckily my bones are pretty strong, but my hip, elbow and wrist are going to be black and blue for a while. How dumb. 

Speaking of breaking shit, our garage door broke last week as well (it has been exciting around here). The spring above the garage door broke in two which meant there was not way on God's green earth I was fixing anything (oh, and it was 20 degrees below zero). It also happened on the day the drywall guy was finishing our bathroom. It was like we were being challenged to the very end.

I've been listening to the band Bowling For Soup lately. My own band has learned their hit "1985" and I just couldn't get the song out of my head (this happens frequently to me), so the way I exorcise that demon is by listening to the culprit song really loudly wearing headphones. 

Once I listened to "1985" a couple times, I started exploring their catalogue (they've been together since 1994 so I'm a little late to the party), and they've got a bunch of fun, tongue-in-cheek, power punk songs. Nothing complicated, nothing earth-shattering. Just fun party music. I needed to find a new band to dig and I have.

I'm currently reading The First Conspiracy by Brad Meltzer and Josh Mensch and I'm loving it. Last year I read The Lincoln Conspiracy by the same authors and it was excellent. Both are well researched non-fiction history, but they read like a suspense novels. Not an easy task.

These days I am spending my free time (when I have it) watching college basketball and, on occasion, hockey. I'm a football guy to the core, so I just take a passing interest in sports during these winter months. Obviously I am looking forward to the Super Bowl next week. Then the long offseason.... maybe I should write more since I'm not distracted by football every weekend?

Sunday, 30 October 2022

 A crisp Sunday morning. Clear skies, sunny and a bit chilly (47°F), but it feels good. 

The Mugwugs played a private Halloween party last night south of St. Cloud, near a tiny town called Rockville. We had a good time, sounded decent. I think the crowd enjoyed themselves. I got home a little after 11:00 PM and made some fun money in the process.

My lost book finally arrived via Amazon, days after it was supposed to be here. I had claimed a lost package (actually, Amazon suggested it was lost) and they sent a replacement. Now have have duplicate books, so I will have to return one. Or maybe I will just keep it? The jury's out.

Our shower debacle continues.  We STILL do not have an upstairs shower. The plumbers were here to finish the job this week, only to discover another panel to the surround is cracked at the bottom. The company was again kind enough to send another replacement which we are now waiting for (although at this point I am questioning the quality of the product). I cannot believe our bad luck with this project. 

...actually, that's not true. If it is going to go wrong, it will happen to me. 

So we are going on week six without an upstairs shower. It has really, really tested my patience. Our plumber does feel bad about it, though. He did say to let him know as soon as the panel comes in and they will make the time to come out and finish.

Today is reserved to be a lazy day for me. This past week has absolutely sucked at work -- the worst it has ever been. It is to the point where I am contemplating looking for another job, but that's a lot to digest. I am too old to start over again doing something else. I've done the college thing and soon my kids will be going to college. It is their turn now, I've had my shot; if I screwed up, that's on me, not on them. 

I have nearly 25 years invested with the organization, I have climbed the seniority ladder, and I have well over 500 hours of sick time which I've earned, but will lose if I leave. Can I tough it out for another 10 to 12 years before I can seriously think about retiring? I'm not sure. Maybe if I stopped caring about the quality of my work, if I just did the bare minimum and went home for the day, it would make it easier. Maybe that's the answer.

It is a pity because I know I am very good at what I do, but the company I work for does not give two shits about its employees. Simply put, it is miserable working for shitty people. And yeah, I know this is on the web and can be read by anyone. I won't mince words about how I feel. Fucking fire me.

I have a lot of thinking to do about this.

That said, I am going to plant my ass in front of my 72 inch t.v. and watch NFL Redzone all day. A Bloody Mary is undoubtedly on the radar as well. Maybe two.

Spring? Really?

 There are rumors circulating that spring has sprung. I missed it. I was on call this weekend and missed the alleged beautiful weather we had.

To pour salt on the wound, my dear friends kept sending me Snaps of their excursions to assorted breweries over the weekend. I should receive some sort of worker's compensation for that. Seriously.

I spent part of the week completely alone, which was very weird for me. No wife, no kids, not even a dog. The whole damn family went to Mandan, ND, for spring break (no beaches, but lots of wind). They fared better this time than last time they went (three years ago?). Last time they all came home sick. So far, they have been spared the wrath of any nasty North Dakota bugs.

Neil waiting for the jab.

Our kids are now fully vaccinated. Please refrain from your political comments/personal freedom/'Murica bullshit here. This isn't about politics or misguided "patriotism." This is about two kids who have nurses for parents and one of them (me) is exposed to COVID all the time. Plus, we like to go to live theater/musicals and many places won't allow you through the door without proof of vaccination. And you know what? It's the right thing to do. 

My daughter finally got to celebrate her 16th birthday with a group of her friends (a month late, but when Mom and Dad both work, compromises must be made). We had a sleepover here and the house remained remarkably intact. Her birthday party was cowboy themed (she's got a thing for cowboys), complete with cowboy hats, sheriff's badges, tin pans for grub and enough bandanas to make an '80s band blush.

The cowboy themed spread...

Pepsi, milk and Pop Tarts: the breakfast of champions.

My band has added a couple more shows to this summer's itinerary. Our June gigs are filled up. We now have three summer festivals in July; we could play every weekend this summer if we wanted to. It is nice to be in demand!

So, between a much-needed vacation in August (to Cody, Wyoming. Why? Because my daughter wants to see the "Wild West." I told you she's got a thing for cowboys), working a weekend (or two) of call, and taking a couple camping trips, the summer is almost completely filled up already. 

A few days ago, I started reading Zorba the Greek by Nikos Kazantzakis. He also wrote the controversial The Last Temptation of Christ, which is one of the best novels I've ever read -- certainly in my top ten (I didn't find it blasphemous in the least, but that's strictly my opinion). Zorba the Greek is translated from Greek (as was The Last Temptation of Christ), so it is a little muddled in spots, which I bear in mind as I'm reading. But I'm enjoying it. I love any good fiction.

Well, not much more to say right now. I think I should get outside and enjoy the remainder of this beautiful spring day. It is supposed to turn rainy/wintry tomorrow. 

Photo by Ava

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Inductees, Class of 2022, According to That Damn Sam

 In lieu of nothing worthwhile to post, read or share on social media (nothing but negativity, bad news, doom and gloom -- probably for good reason), I decided I would do a little something different today. 

This time of year always lights a fire under my backside. The 2022 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominees have been released and I am always astounded at how many artists are still not in the Hall of Fame (and how many are in the Hall who probably shouldn't be there). 

I know my opinion doesn't mean squat, but this is my site and I pay the annual domain fee, so I will speak my mind. For the first time ever, I am going to cast my vote for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Class of 2022. I will try to make this an annual thing, since it gets sand in my craw every year.

I can vote for FIVE of the below list of 17 nominees:

~

Disclaimer:

One name that immediately caught my eye is Dolly Parton. Let me first say that Dolly Parton is a national treasure. I will never talk shit about Ms. Parton. She's an American icon. She's not only a brilliant songwriter and musician, she's an incredible philanthropist.  Her Imagination Library is a beautiful gesture to humanity. But there's nothing about Dolly that's rock and roll. After learning she was a nominee, Dolly herself said, "I've never thought of myself as rock and roll in any sense of the word." 

So I am sorry, Dolly. You can't get my vote, but I will always love you.

~

Buckle up and get ready to argue with me. Here are my five inductees into the Class of 2022:

The classic Judas Priest lineup. Leather and studs. That was the look.

1. Judas Priest. So here we are in 2022 and it occurs to me that the most influential heavy metal band of all time is still not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. How does this stuff happen? 

Judas Priest was formed in 1969 and they are still rocking to this day. Their look, sound and attitude defines what we now know as heavy metal rock and roll. Judas Priest's dual guitar attack has influenced every heavy metal band on the planet (that's not hyperbole) and lead vocalist Rob Halford is considered the genre's quintessential vocalist. Priest has never had a Top 40 hit in the U.S. pop charts (true to heavy metal form), but they have had 11 records in the U.S. Top 40 album charts and their worldwide album sales exceed 50 million. British Steel, released in 1980, is considered one of the greatest metal albums of all time. Songs like "Breaking the Law," "You've Got Another Thing Comin'" and "Living After Midnight," although never considered commercial "hits," have become an indelible part of the rock and roll landscape.  

To me, Judas Priest was the first and most obvious inductee on this list.

Fun Fact: Lead singer Rob Halford was considered the ultimate "heavy metal alpha male" in the 1980s. In reality, he is a gay man who loves cats. I can't make this stuff up!

Pat Benatar

2. Pat Benatar. This is Pat Benatar's second nomination in the past three years. Can we PLEASE get this woman into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? This is ridiculous. 

Benatar was a feminist trailblazer in the 1980s, when true rock and roll (not Madonna-bubblegum pop) was an all-boys club. Her debut album, In the Heat of the Night, was released in the summer of 1979, and she set the rock world on its ear with the hit single "Heartbreaker." 

As the 80s rolled on, so did the hits: "Love Is a Battlefield," "Hit Me with Your Best Shot," "Treat Me Right," "Fire and Ice," "We Belong," "Shadows of the Night," ... I mean, come on! Six Top 20 albums, fifteen Top 40 hits, four Grammy Awards and albums sales in excess of 35 million. And she's got pipes that will peel paint off the walls. Enough of this nonsense. She's in the Hall.

Fun Fact: Benatar's maiden name is Andrzejewski. It is pronounced exactly as it's spelled.

Duran Duran... a bunch of guys named Taylor and Simon Le Bon

3. Duran Duran. Okay, I will admit it. Duran Duran deserves to be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I try not to overstate things, and I don't think it is too much to say that, by 1986, no band since the Beatles had influenced music culture and fashion as much as these five guys from Birmingham, England. 

As a teenage boy growing up in the 80s, I didn't mind Duran Duran because of one simple fact: if their music was playing, it was guaranteed a bunch of cute girls were nearby... but I digress. The good news is the band had substance to their style; these guys weren't just pretty, they could actually play. More than that, their songs have stood the test of time: "Rio," "Hungry Like the Wolf," "The Reflex," "Is There Something I Should Know," still sound fresh. The band has scored fifteen Top 40 hits and they have sold more than 100 million albums worldwide, making them one of the best selling music groups of all time, yet they've never seemed to get the respect they actually deserve. Well, they check all the boxes for me. They're in.

Fun Fact: In the 1980s, Duran Duran included John Taylor, Andy Taylor and Roger Taylor. None were related.

Lionel Richie

4. Lionel Richie. This is the most obvious shoo-in on the entire ballot. Actually, I was shocked to learn that neither Lionel Richie nor the Commodores were in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (Yet Jay-Z is? Jesus, just shoot me.) 

Richie was the principal songwriter for the Commodores before going on an off-the-Richter-scale successful solo career. "Three Times a Lady," "Hello," "Truly," "Endless Love," "Sail On," "Brick House," "Deep River Woman," "Say You Say Me," "All Night Long," "Dancing on the Ceiling," "Stuck on You," ...oh, "We are the World," (you may have heard of that one)... these are just some of the songs Richie has written in his 54 year career in music. As a solo artist alone he has recorded thirteen Top 10 hits, including five #1 hits. He will be given the Gershwin Prize for Popular Song by the Library of Congress later this year (the country's greatest honor in the performing arts). He's a Kennedy Center Honors recipient. He's won four Grammy Awards, a Golden Globe and an Academy Award. He's enshrined in the Songwriters Hall of Fame and has received the Johnny Mercer Award, the highest honor one can receive as a songwriter. He was also the first artist to ever receive the RIAA Diamond Award, which is an album selling over 10 million copies (1983's Can't Slow Down). You know what? The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame seems a step down, doesn't it?

Fun Fact: Lionel Richie wrote and produced "Lady," for country music legend Kenny Rogers. The song went to #1 on the Billboard pop and country charts. It was probably #1 on Mars and Saturn, too.

The New York Dolls, 1973.

5. New York Dolls. I admit, this is a tough one. It's my last vote. But I must go with seminal. That's the key word. 

I'm inducting the New York Dolls, at long last, into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The New York Dolls were true pioneers of the punk and glam rock movement. Without the Dolls, there would be no Sex Pistols, Ramones, Green Day, KISS or Guns 'N Roses (all members of the Hall of Fame), just to name a few. The New York Dolls were not commercially successful and they were only active from 1971-1976 (not including a reunion some 40 years later -- only two of the original five members were still alive). Despite being a working band for only five years, they left a deep imprint on rock and roll and they are considered by rock historians as one of the most important and influential bands of the pre-punk era. It is time they are enshrined. 

Fun Fact: Most people know the New York Dolls best by lead singer David Johansen, who changed his image and stage name to lounge singer Buster Poindexter in the late 1980s. He recorded a cover of Arrow's dance tune "Hot Hot Hot" in 1987 which was a massively successful single. It was Johansen's only hit of his 50+ year career.

Immortal for a Limited Time

I never met Neil Peart, but I consider him my greatest inspiration.

Peart was the drummer and lyricist for the Canadian rock band Rush. Critics and music fans have universally regarded him as one of the best drummers in the history of rock and roll, as well as one of the genre’s most insightful lyricists.

You can surrender without a prayer,
but you can never really pray without surrender.
 — Neil Peart

Throughout his career, Peart was bestowed with hundreds of honors in the music world, including the ultimate distinction: induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2013.

But he was much more than a world class musician.

When I was a teenager, I read a quote from Peart, which I will paraphrase: the relentless pursuit of knowledge should be the driving force in all we do. As a kid in complete awe of his talent, those were words I needed to hear. That impression has lasted my lifetime.

However, it wasn’t just his relentless pursuit of knowledge and masterful drumming talent that elevated Peart to “hero” status for me. A tragic turn of events in Peart’s life solidified my deep admiration for his character as a human being.

In 1997, Peart’s 19-year-old daughter was killed in a car accident. Ten months later, he lost his wife to breast cancer. Understandably, he went into dark place and his desire to play music was gone. He said he had to “keep moving or die,” so in the fall of 1998, he got on his motorcycle and just … moved.

In the end, he traveled extensively throughout North and Central America — 55,000 miles — riding alone on his motorcycle and keeping a detailed journal of his emotions and experiences on the road.

Peart found the act of traveling alone a soul cleansing experience. The journal he carried became a touching book about his odyssey of healing, called Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road.

Don’t leave spontaneity to chance.
 — Neil Peart

Peart published seven non-fiction books in his lifetime, focused on travel, music and personal stories. All are delightful reads.

After a period of mourning, he rejoined his bandmates and Rush toured the world for 15 more years, releasing some of the best music of their 40 year career.

He found happiness again, too. He remarried and became the proud father of a daughter in 2009.

When my son was born in 2009, I named him Neil.

~~~

Neil Peart kept his battle with glioblastoma private. When he died on 7 January 2020, the music world was stunned. He was 67 years old.

I wept when I heard of his passing. I felt a little foolish, shedding tears over a man I had never met, but he truly felt like a friend, a mentor and a teacher.

I guess that’s exactly what he was.

We’re only immortal for a limited time.
 —Neil Peart

Always Dig Deeper

In Apple Studios with Billy Preston, January 1969

This changed the everything.

I recently finished watching Peter Jackson’s Beatles documentary, Get Back. “Epic” is a grossly overused word these days; however, that is the best description I can give this film.

Most of you know I am in my element with anything to do with the Beatles, so for the sake of humanity, I am limiting myself to less than 300 words.

First things first: this documentary is not for the casual fan. Peter Jackson defends the documentary's length: "[I kept thinking] people have got to see this. This is great."

For the casual fan, I would recommend watching Episode 3.

There are countless fascinating moments in these hours of footage. The most memorable for me was watching Paul McCartney pull the song "Get Back" out of thin air. As the cameras roll, he sits on a chair, head down, emphatically chugging on his bass--searching for a melody, hunting for a tune--and suddenly it hits him: "Get back... get back... get back to dum-de-dum..."

A #1 hit, and an all-time classic born before our eyes. Absolutely fascinating stuff.

I think that was really the most amazing part of the entire documentary: watching the creative process evolve. After all, this wasn't just an ordinary band. 

When George Harrison brings in a very early version of what would become "Something" (yet another #1 hit!), he asks John Lennon for help with the lyric. Lennon sings, 

"Something in the way she moves ... attracts me like ... a cauliflower..." 

Lennon advises Harrison, "Just keep it going, George. It doesn't matter what the words are, they will come. Just keep the groove going."

Good advice.

Lennon and Harrison, January 1969

Now to the point of this entire post.

I’ve been a student of Beatles history for decades and the overwhelming consensus has accepted this was an absolutely miserable period in the band’s history.

Not so fast.

This fly-on-the-wall documentary has me rethinking everything I’ve ever read. My own takeaways from this eight hour time capsule:

1. John and Paul did not hate each other.
2. Nobody hated Yoko.
3. George was an underappreciated genius.
4. Ringo was the glue. His calming presence and amiable personality held the band together.
5. The Beatles drank a lot of tea.
6. The Beatles were quite fond of toast.
7. The Beatles smoked their collective weight in cigarettes.

What I've learned from this documentary is the accepted truth is just one side of the story. 

Always dig deeper.