Now I see you standing
With brown leaves falling around
And snow in your hair
Now you're smiling out the window
Of that crummy hotel
Over Washington Square
Our breath comes out white clouds
Mingles and hangs in the air
Speaking strictly for me
We both could have died then and there
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Diamonds and Rust
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow
My first computer was an Apple Macintosh SE, purchased for about $2,500 in the fall of 1987. Although since that first Mac I have owned, a few, "Windows," PC's for business purposes, those Window's laced morasses of confusion were never used as my main computer. But for a couple stock trading platforms, they were never touched. Since that first Mac in 1987, I have been more loyal to Apple than I have been to any person, place or thing in my life. Who does that? Who creates an object that becomes your constant friend and companion for over three decades? I know there are detractors who will point to some obscure geek somewhere who was light years ahead of Steve Jobs and Apple. But no one person is more deserving of our awe than the one visionary of our lifetime who actually transformed his vision into our realities, into our pockets, on our screens and into just about every moment of our lives.
From a speech given by Steve Jobs at the 1983 International Design Conference in Aspen:
Steve Jobs died on October 11, 2011 due to complications from pancreatic cancer. No doubt, some other visionary will cure pancreatic cancer in the years ahead.
From a speech given by Steve Jobs at the 1983 International Design Conference in Aspen:
He mentions that computers are so fast they are like magic. I don’t think it is a coincidence that he called the iPad “magical”;
He states that in a few years people will be spending more time interacting with personal computers than with cars;
He equates society’s level of technology familiarity to being on a “first date” with personal computers;
He confidently talks about the personal computer being a new medium of communication;
He matter-of-factly states that when we have portable computers with radio links, people could be walking around anywhere and pick up their e-mail. Again, this is 1983, at least 20 years before the era of mobile computing;
He says Apple’s strategy is to “put an incredibly great computer in a book that you can carry around with you that you can learn how to use in 20 minutes”;
Steve Jobs died on October 11, 2011 due to complications from pancreatic cancer. No doubt, some other visionary will cure pancreatic cancer in the years ahead.
His family released a statement saying that he "died peacefully." His sister, Mona Simpson, described his passing thus: "Steve’s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times. Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them. Steve’s final words were: OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW." He then lost consciousness and died several hours later.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
For A Dancer
Keep a fire burning in your eye
Pay attention to the open sky
You never know what will be coming down
I don't remember losing track of you
You were always dancing in and out of view
I must have thought you'd always be around
Always keeping things real by playing the clown
Now you're nowhere to be found
I met Ellen in 1974 at a dance party at my house near Boston. Several friends and I were living there while in law school. She and I danced all night, dated for a few months and then lived together for about a year in Framingham. It all ended on a Sunday morning at Logan Airport. I was heading for a year of tax law at Emory in Atlanta. She was going to a wedding after dropping me off. We were supposed to be going to that wedding together, but stuff happens. I still see her in that dress, beautiful as I ever remember her, even with the tears flowing down her face. When the end comes, it just bludgeons. Three years ago I heard from a mutual friend that she lost a long battle with cancer. She died alone, never married, never had kids, never had that life she once dreamed about...probably with me. When the end comes, it just bludgeons.
I don't know what happens when people die
Can't seem to grasp it as hard as I try
It's like a song I can hear playing right in my ear
That I can't sing
I can't help listening
And I can't help feeling stupid standing 'round
Crying as they ease you down
'cause I know that you'd rather we were dancing
Dancing our sorrow away
No matter what fate chooses to play
there's nothing you can do about it anyway
Fast forward, August, 2013. I heard Jackson Browne's, For A Dancer, in the car yesterday and there she was again, all dressed up, looking beautiful, her eyes filled with all of those tears....the ones I had so heartlessly given to her. This time, I reciprocated.
Keep a fire for the human race
Let your prayers go drifting into space
You never know what will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near
And just as easily it could all disappear
Along with whatever meaning you might have found
Don't let the uncertainty turn you around
That was one hell of a dance party. There were at least 150 people from three different law schools with assorted roommates and friends, all dancing in unison in that broken down house right next to a Catholic church in Newton Centre. The neighbors called the police to complain about being old, but with a house full of lawyer-wannabies, they never stood a chance. We had other problems, anyway. It was at the very beginning of the disco years and there was a contingent of the disco cult there who kept trying to sneak in this odd sounding disco crap instead of our rock and roll dancing drunk music. That's how Ellen and I met, guarding our Rolling Stones from the beautiful people.
Memories sneak up on me way too often these days.
Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
But you'll never know
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Woodstock at 44
We were four, my college hockey teammate and good friend Bob, his younger brother Eric, my first love, Claudia and of course, me. We travelled from Detroit to upstate New York for a weekend concert that became an icon of our generation. It was free, wet, cold, but most of all, it was history. I'll never forget a miserable, muddy minute of it. We were up all weekend in an off and on again cold rain, our sleeping bags lost the first night to the mud and filth.
At 10:30pm Saturday night it was the Grateful Dead, at midnight, Credence Clearwater, at 2:00am Janis Joplin and at 3:30am a riveting get-up-and-dance party hosted by Sly & the Family Stone. Then came the first light of Sunday morning along with the The Who and the first of three times in my life I heard them perform live their masterpiece rock opera, Tommy.
About two hours after The Who finished their set, the sun finally came out, followed by Jefferson Airplane and around 8:00am Sunday morning, we all had breakfast. There were some really great performances that weekend and this one below maybe pales in comparison to Hendrix, The Who and The Grateful Dead...but it could have been the most poignant performance of them all.
At 10:30pm Saturday night it was the Grateful Dead, at midnight, Credence Clearwater, at 2:00am Janis Joplin and at 3:30am a riveting get-up-and-dance party hosted by Sly & the Family Stone. Then came the first light of Sunday morning along with the The Who and the first of three times in my life I heard them perform live their masterpiece rock opera, Tommy.
About two hours after The Who finished their set, the sun finally came out, followed by Jefferson Airplane and around 8:00am Sunday morning, we all had breakfast. There were some really great performances that weekend and this one below maybe pales in comparison to Hendrix, The Who and The Grateful Dead...but it could have been the most poignant performance of them all.
When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead
And the white knight is talking backwards
And the red queen's off with her head
Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head, feed your head
Monday, August 05, 2013
The Moon's a Harsh Mistress
Life evolves. It twists, turns, then befuddles in ways that are and always have been a dark, overwhelming mystery to me.
Maybe there's an answer at the end of this journey. An explanation for all that passes.
Loss falls hollow on this quiet night. Emotionless, a remnant dangling from love's demise.
This music is hauntingly beautiful. It crosses my path, once again.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Black Day in July
"As a child during the 1960′s I would fall asleep listening to the Detroit Tigers on my transistor radio. Growing up less than an hour northwest of Detroit made it convenient to attend ballgames, go to the Detroit Zoo, and visit some of the other area attractions. Today, it is with sadness that I write about the financial crisis facing this city. Due to a variety of reasons, Detroit’s fiscal problems have led them to file the largest municipal bankruptcy in U.S. history."
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Let It Rain
Faced with the truth
you don't want to believe
that a man never lived without dying
Remember the things that you wanted to be
has a man ever failed without trying
If an action speaks louder than words that you say
Well here's to a life without meaning
Tomorrow won't happen, there's only today
Can a man truly live without dreaming?
Let it rain, let it rain
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
The Magic Man
If you use an iPhone, push the Home button and ask Siri, "Where was the magic man born?" She will say:
Pavel Datsyuk on Red Wings’ future, Winter Classic and making opponents look silly (Puck Daddy Interview)
"Pavel Datsyuk was born in Sverdlovsk, Russia."
Pavel Datsyuk on Red Wings’ future, Winter Classic and making opponents look silly (Puck Daddy Interview)
Yahoo Sports: Henrik Zetterberg was named team captain this season. How did he transition to being the captain?
Datsyuk: How? He cut out the letter “C” and stitched it on to his jersey, that’s how.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Days Like This
When no one steps on my dreams there'll be days like this
When people understand what I mean there'll be days like this
When you ring out the changes of how everything is
Well my mama told me there'll be days like this
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