The Ripeness is All
01-07-06
Hey everybody, this is Rusty Gates, your host for Free Range Pickin’, where you and me and my trusty steed Lazybones will partake of the deep roots music of this great land called Life.
Doin’ it in a New Year, too. I didn’t make it to the last Free Range round up for 20 oh 5, due to the big storm that blew that year out the door. Good riddance to it - one of the worst years in memory for yers truly. The grim reaper was slingin his blade real close to the bone, and I had my hat pulled down low and was jumpin at shadows. Tell you the truth, I didn’t breathe deep til midnight, and then I lit out to a cold lonely spot, threw my head back, and howled at the sky without makin a whoosh.
Yeah, I got nicked a few times last year, scuffed up a bunch, but I’m here to talk about it and that’s the main thing. Some I know can’t say the same. So I wanna say Bye to them, and for them, just a bit.
But not just yet. First I wanna say how impressed I was by the way the staff and volunteers at KWMR, and you folks in the community, took the bull by the horns when that storm blew through. It truly was something to feel people coming together, and to hear them on the radio. I feel real good about the station, and about you people all around the area. You should feel good too. And for those of us who lost the most, all I can say is – Lend that poor soul a hand, and we’ll all rise up from the mud.
It’s always been my custom to spend New Year’s eve reflectin on what went down before peerin into the future, so I’m gonna use this next set as a little musical memorial service for those who won’t be ridin’ by my side no more, at least not like they once did. I lost a bunch of dear friends and family this past year, way more than ever before. Just want to take a little time right now to say goodbye, and I’ll try not to get too weepy about it.
So here’s to my cousin’s husband Bob, who left this world on Christmas Eve. So long, Bob. I think he appreciated how I never once made a joke about his last name being Zimmerman, even though I knew he too had the soul of a poet.
And here’s to Sybilla, my oldest friend in years and maybe the youngest at heart. Grew up on a ranch in East Colorado, and ridin out one day as a kid she came upon a strange lookin white tree stump on the prairie. Turned out to be the tip of a full blown dinosaur, which you can see in a museum out that way. Sybilla uncovered marvels the rest of her life, and sometimes they was us.
And here’s to Jan and Al, I can’t say one name without the other. Jan came from the fertile valleys of Central California, and she was as real as dirt. First time I met her we laughed til tears ran down our cheeks. Good way to know you just made a lifelong friend. One day last spring a white dove landed on a fence post I was fixing, and I just knew she was Jan, come to say goodbye. The world’s magic sometimes. She was.
Al was Jan’s beaux forever. His feet was always on the ground, and sometimes you could find him on all fours, just to be sure. If ever I got too big for my britches, Al was just the man to bring me back to the right size, like it or not. Three months after Jan passed on, I guess he couldn’t stand it and his spirit took off after her. So long, Al. Jan and Al.
And here’s to a friend so cool he could do with just an initial - J. His old man was a jazz singer in NYC, and J grew up at the feet – truly - of giants named Sonny and Monk. Thanks, J, for a slice of the Big Apple this cowboy would o never knowed on my own.
And one final goodbye to my great friend Pete, who left at the end of a cold wet Christmas night. Pete was a blues harmonica man, who could always blow my cares away. Most amazing thing, he could do it without the harp, too, cause his heart was so damn full of good cheer. So long, Pete. So long.
So anyway - Here’s a few tunes for my friends. They say people aren’t really gone as long as we carry them with us. That’s what they say, but it ain’t the same – not by a long shot.
Hey everybody, this is Rusty Gates, your host for Free Range Pickin’, where you and me and my trusty steed Lazybones will partake of the deep roots music of this great land called Life.
Doin’ it in a New Year, too. I didn’t make it to the last Free Range round up for 20 oh 5, due to the big storm that blew that year out the door. Good riddance to it - one of the worst years in memory for yers truly. The grim reaper was slingin his blade real close to the bone, and I had my hat pulled down low and was jumpin at shadows. Tell you the truth, I didn’t breathe deep til midnight, and then I lit out to a cold lonely spot, threw my head back, and howled at the sky without makin a whoosh.
Yeah, I got nicked a few times last year, scuffed up a bunch, but I’m here to talk about it and that’s the main thing. Some I know can’t say the same. So I wanna say Bye to them, and for them, just a bit.
But not just yet. First I wanna say how impressed I was by the way the staff and volunteers at KWMR, and you folks in the community, took the bull by the horns when that storm blew through. It truly was something to feel people coming together, and to hear them on the radio. I feel real good about the station, and about you people all around the area. You should feel good too. And for those of us who lost the most, all I can say is – Lend that poor soul a hand, and we’ll all rise up from the mud.
It’s always been my custom to spend New Year’s eve reflectin on what went down before peerin into the future, so I’m gonna use this next set as a little musical memorial service for those who won’t be ridin’ by my side no more, at least not like they once did. I lost a bunch of dear friends and family this past year, way more than ever before. Just want to take a little time right now to say goodbye, and I’ll try not to get too weepy about it.
So here’s to my cousin’s husband Bob, who left this world on Christmas Eve. So long, Bob. I think he appreciated how I never once made a joke about his last name being Zimmerman, even though I knew he too had the soul of a poet.
And here’s to Sybilla, my oldest friend in years and maybe the youngest at heart. Grew up on a ranch in East Colorado, and ridin out one day as a kid she came upon a strange lookin white tree stump on the prairie. Turned out to be the tip of a full blown dinosaur, which you can see in a museum out that way. Sybilla uncovered marvels the rest of her life, and sometimes they was us.
And here’s to Jan and Al, I can’t say one name without the other. Jan came from the fertile valleys of Central California, and she was as real as dirt. First time I met her we laughed til tears ran down our cheeks. Good way to know you just made a lifelong friend. One day last spring a white dove landed on a fence post I was fixing, and I just knew she was Jan, come to say goodbye. The world’s magic sometimes. She was.
Al was Jan’s beaux forever. His feet was always on the ground, and sometimes you could find him on all fours, just to be sure. If ever I got too big for my britches, Al was just the man to bring me back to the right size, like it or not. Three months after Jan passed on, I guess he couldn’t stand it and his spirit took off after her. So long, Al. Jan and Al.
And here’s to a friend so cool he could do with just an initial - J. His old man was a jazz singer in NYC, and J grew up at the feet – truly - of giants named Sonny and Monk. Thanks, J, for a slice of the Big Apple this cowboy would o never knowed on my own.
And one final goodbye to my great friend Pete, who left at the end of a cold wet Christmas night. Pete was a blues harmonica man, who could always blow my cares away. Most amazing thing, he could do it without the harp, too, cause his heart was so damn full of good cheer. So long, Pete. So long.
So anyway - Here’s a few tunes for my friends. They say people aren’t really gone as long as we carry them with us. That’s what they say, but it ain’t the same – not by a long shot.
posted by Rusty Gates | 9:13 PM
|
0 comments
