Thursday, June 30, 2005

Last of the Videos

Here are just two more videos. If you missed yesterday's, go have a peek. Remember these were experimental from Cathy's Canon Digital in video mode. Not very good quality sound or lighting. It's just here for a peek at what I was up to while I was away. Helen Avakian joins me on both songs.

The first is an interupted clip of Sister Mary Confusing. You may or may not know that the latter mentioned nun is a composit charactor of all the nuns who tortured me as a youth. I used her name to tell my own school children over the years that no matter how much they thought I sucked, I was way better than Sr. Mary Confusing. My former students at the Cubbyhole Coffeehouse that night were enthralled to see her come to life in song.

The second clip is of The Part That Doesn't. This is the first song I ever actually finished and performed. I did it on a dare from Helen Avakian. It was the only way I could get her to come perform at my school. She said I had to write one and perform it. It's all her fault and I haven't stopped writing since.

Tomorrow I'll give you a review of the Bose Personalised Amplification System, my new PA system that is rocking my world!

posted by Bud @ 6:39 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Videos

The quality is NOT GOOD but you can get the flavor of what was going on. This was shot experimentally by my wife Cathy with a Canon Digital camera in video mode.

I went on an on about my girls joining me for Rocky Raccoon in yesterday's blog. So here it is.

Kathy Feeney is the shorter one in the middle of the three girls and she wrote the words to Stargazer which Helen rearranged for me. Here's a little of that.

Finally here's Helen and I starting the night with Feel My Love.

posted by Bud @ 5:19 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Trips Within Trips

Within hours of our arrival in NY, Cathy and I attended a retirement party in Hyde Park's Roosevelt Estate. At this same event we honored a bunch of people who had taught 25 years and gave them a watch to commemorate it. And forty young teachers received tenure. The temptation to explain/defend tenure is huge here but I'll spare you. If you want to know what I know about it, write to me and ask. The point really is the coming and going of a bunch of professionals whose jobs are the most important on earth. Go ahead and dispute that. I'm sticking with it.

This was the theme for the week. Looking back and looking forward. Harvesting and planting seeds. The graduations for me were especially like blowing a dandelion seed ball. I know they all scattered in the wind. I know I'll never see or hear from or even hear about many of them. I also know with complete confidence that some will stay close because we are that close already. Others will become invisible but we'll remain in each other's memories. I also know that others will take something I or some other teacher gave them and think of it. Well off in the future. Seeds we planted. I hope it makes them smile.

Yeah there's a song in there.

Rocking at the CubbyholePlaying the Cubbyhole Coffeehouse again with Helen was even better than last time. My former guitar student, Riston Benson and her BF Travis, Riston and Travisopened for us and she was stunning. That's one seed that has bloomed. At least five former students I haven't seen in about five years showed up. That was very sweet. Others who said they'd come but didn't make it were missed and that became a lyric too.

The high point of the evening for me was all about Rocky Raccoon. Something about that song. Students going back to the seventies all made me sing it for them over and over. Three in particular, Ashley Gilnack who I taught to play Rocky on her late daddy's guitar, Laurel Pistey who plays cello like and angel and my multitalented cowriter, Kathy Feeney. Ashley showed up late because I promised her I'd play it. She was in a hurry to get back to help her Mom clean up the graduation party we had attended earlier. Laurel hadn't shown up yet but Ashley was urgently begging me to do Rocky because she had obviously skipped out on the cleanup. She squirmed like a little girl needing the potty. So I brought her and Kathy up on the stage to sing it with me. Laurel popped in and up there by the middle of the first verse. Rocky and the Coonettes My Doowop GirlsMaybe it was a you-had-to-be-there moment. Maybe you can't get it if you didn't live that history with us. I hope I can find a way to write a song about it that will honor the moment for what it was. One of the best in my teaching career. Three years after my career ended.

Fathers' Day with my daughter was very sweet indeed. My son called from San Francisco while we were together. We toured her new unfinished house, walked around the waterfront a bit and made plans for a date later in the week.

We drove down to see my Mom brother and sister. People not from NY have no idea what it is like. It is a big green rolling expanse punctuated by a few large and medium cities. Ten minutes west of the Hudson and the Thruway, there is almost no cell service. I was out of contact for three days. A mixed blessing. Nice quality time with my family. Mom isn't even limping after hip surgery and rehab.

My songwriting session with Helen Avakian Helen Avakianis the biggest thrill, I'm sure it's the beginning of something that will produce memorable songs. There are a few negatives about moving down here from NY. Distance from Helen is a BIG one. She makes me better. I may have to become a frequent flier up there. Helen put Sing Through My Pain to music. A very inventive guitar arrangement that I'm challenged to learn to play the way she does. I promise an MP3 up here as soon as I master it and have a chance to record it.

I'm glad to be back in Florida. It'll take me a while to get my groove back but groove is my life.

posted by Bud @ 5:00 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Monday, June 27, 2005

I'm Back. I'm High. I'm Swamped

You will be relieved to know I'm back if you're a regular reader and sick to death of seeing the same blog up there for 10 days. It means something else is coming. But not just this minute. I'm still unraveling the consequences of taking a road trip away from home and blog.

Quick summary. Many retirement parties. Many meals out. Including the Roosevelt Estate's new Wallace Center and the Culinary Institute of America. One fantastic gig at which I reconnected with some former students I haven't seen in a very long time. I'll have pictures and possibly some video up for that. Lots of time with my daughter and son-in-law. Two graduations, my last class from middle school, my closest class ever from high school. I'm still an oozing sack of emotion about all of that. I need to distill it to write anything that's not too syrupy and cliche' ridden.

I had a lot of time with my pal, my music guru, my dear friend Helen Avakian and her husband Terry Champlin. We did a rehearsal, a gig, two dinners and a songwriting session. And we have a commitment to do more songwriting. I'll post the song as soon as I have a working copy. Learning to play any music that Helen writes is a challenge. She stretches me out and this is going to be a fantastic partnership for me. She also does a very credible moon walk in the parking lot after only one glass of wine.

So thanks for reading. I'll never catch up. I was not near a computer long enough to even read anybody else's blogs or answer comments. Trying to recover ten days would keep me from moving forward so I'll not even try. Onward and upward.

posted by Bud @ 6:23 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Thursday, June 16, 2005

The Writer's Away, The Critics may Play

SCROLL DOWN A NOTCH EVERYDAY

This is my last post until at least June 27. I think. I'm flying to NY tomorrow and have a lot to do. Extremely busy schedule which involves a rehearsal withAfter Gig Dinner: Bud and Helen Avakian Helen Avakian and a gig at the popular Vassar College hangout, Cubbyhole Coffeehouse. Later in the week we are going to start our first duel songwriting session. I hope it is the start of many. In my eyes, Helen is a giant. All 99 pounds of her. PreGigCubby

But the week also is crammed with retirement parties for former teaching colleagues. Graduations and parties for former students. A two day visit to my mom in a different part of the state. Fathers Day with my daughter. My seventeenth wedding anniversary. And who knows what else? Won't have time to post. Possibly will have time to read and comment.

I wanted to put up individual links to each of my lyrics here but I'm out of time to solve various formatting problems I'm having with uploading text files in Blogger.

So I'm going to put a bunch of lyrics up here now for anyone who'd like to browse. Some of it is old, some of it is new, some of it is rather recent, meaning still under development. As a working singer/songwriter, I crave your input. I was an elementary school teacher for too many years to get hurt feelings over criticism so let me have it. But if you tell me it sucks, you have NO CRED if you can't elaborate. Drive-by bashers will be exposed for the morons they are.

Enjoy. I'll be back live before the end of the month.

Here's a link to the MP3's for my CD, Feel My Love. I won't print the lyrics here. Feel free to comment on what you can hear.

posted by Bud @ 5:00 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 1

Her Life's A Mess
posted by Bud @ 4:59 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 2

Been Googled
posted by Bud @ 4:58 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 3

Underground
posted by Bud @ 4:57 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 4

Cruel In Utah
posted by Bud @ 4:57 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 5

End of the World
posted by Bud @ 4:56 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 6

Sing Through My Pain
posted by Bud @ 4:56 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 7

Dreams That Matter
posted by Bud @ 4:55 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 8

Please Let Me Go
posted by Bud @ 4:54 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 9

Sitting On The Wind
posted by Bud @ 4:53 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 10

Frozen Shadows
posted by Bud @ 4:52 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics From the Archives 11

How That Feels
posted by Bud @ 4:51 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Lyrics from the Archives 12

Move Me

Lyrics from a contest

posted by Bud @ 4:49 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Don't Believe Yellow Snow

Coldplay's Chris Martin revealed recently that he was inspired by the phone book to finish his song Yellow. Sometimes I really don't know why I kick myself around the block trying to come up with deep meaningful metaphors. A touching love song to a phone book? Deep, man. A hit too. I need to look in some different places for song ideas.

Martin's lyrics start out logically enough, extolling the yellowness of the stars. Although the stars in my sky are more white light. Who knows, on this side of the pond, what the London atmosphere does to the color of the heavens. Then he goes on to say that the things you do are yellow and so are mine. Take out the phone book idea here and you might think he's into some peculiar "water sports." as they call it in the personal ads. He even swam across it, jumped across it and drew a line with it.
yellow
Then he closes with the yellow stars thing. His statement about the yellow pages makes me wonder if he's just blowing some yellow smoke up our collective asses. Whatever the real explanation, it makes me realize that you can write some beautiful touching lines with a pretty melody and fill it out with unintelligible nonsense. And get a hit out of it. People nodding their heads in coffee houses the world over saying, Deep, man. The strangest thing of all is that even though I know this, I still really dig the song.

I should experiment with lyrics that nobody can figure out. Just pluck things out of my immediate environment and allude to them as if they were something else. Out my studio window here in Florida I regularly see amazing birds. If i write a song called Blue, it's likely to be about a great blue heron. White could be about an egret or an ibis. And reference in my songs about a clarinet is probably the sand hill cranes that sound like garbled clarinets to me. Dirt and dust equals the state behind my computer. Any reference to tangling is obviously wires coming out of my mixing board into various amps and instruments. I have a gold mine here! How could I ever run out of ideas. Dylan's song Tangled Up in Blue? Now I know what the hell he was talking about!

posted by Bud @ 7:11 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Monday, June 13, 2005

Unusual News Items, The Muse of Musical Comedy

Nakedness, excrement, unusual weaponry and anything to do with cats. These are automatic news items even on a busy news day. Even more so, of course, if an elected official or a media idol, is getting naked, blowing snot chunks, commenting on a weapon or doing anything with a cat.

You can't write a serious song about people riding naked through the streets of London to protest oil dependency. At least I can't. And I agree with both nakedness AND our over dependence on oil.

The next time I have one of my frequent little stunt accidents, I want to be serviced by a naked chinese woman doctor. Then and only then might I attempt to write a song about it. And I'll only describe her eyes, her smile and her voice, not her perky little human thermometers.

The temptation is formidable to write a song about a bad BAD song and tie it into the sound assault weapon the Israelis are using against the Palestinian settlements. But I don't knock other musicians. Even when they clearly suck and could actually have their music used as a weapon. But this sounds so much like a bad sitcom. They never should have let the Israeli army have satellite TV.

Impossible to get a lyric out of gigantic balls of oceanic snot. Scientists are just now learning what they are. I also couldn't get a lyric out of President Bush (The original, not the sequel as Andy Martello puts it) vomiting on the Chinese premier. I can't even find a clean web reference to that incident now. But I remember it. It was a hit on SNL, that's for sure. Which is a clear sign that we're talking Musical comedy here.

Some folks point out that my Sister Mary Confusing is musical comedy. But I was serious.

It should not be any news to anybody who has ever owned a cat that they control us. The fact that they actually infect our brains is only slightly more surprising. But I think there's already a comic strip about that. See? Comedy.

I love comedy. I just don't think it's my best genre as a writer. Although there are some people who may find my lyrics laughable, it's unintentional. Most of the time.

posted by Bud @ 5:01 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Stumbling Around In My Cluttered Mind

Danger, safety equipment required.

I used the Pattison worksheet I mentioned yesterday to come up with synonyms and rhymes for "Power from misunderstood things are deadly dangerous." Maybe memoirs at the end of the world is the approach I can take. Or now that we've reached the end, we could either start and do it all over again. Or we could put it in reverse and pick up every warning sign we knocked down. That begs a car and driving metaphor. How red-neckish or Springsteenish. Been there. Done that. But Rick did it SO nicely recently. Can't touch that without outright thievery.

Maybe best switched to a spacecraft metaphor. Ground Control to Major Tom? Naaa, need a new metaphor. Not prison or the later two ideas. End of what? Come on, baby, let me take you on a sea cruise? Bobby Darren, anybody? Is everything a cliche'?

Okay there's dieting--ignoring all the danger signs toward morbid obesity. Popular subject these days and highly offensive to a majority of our population. There's catching an STD. Might try that. Don't know if it's been done. Ignoring the health risks to cancer and or heart disease? How to keep this from sounding like a public service ad for the surgeon general may be difficult.

So by process of elimination a straight out end of the world theme is the way to go. Leave out the motor vehicle references, Bubba. Creating helpful new strains of bacteria may be hazardous to our health. Remember, as per yesterday's blog, this is for an imagined soundtrack.

End of the World
Copyright By Bud Buckley 2005

He said he could promise endless potency,
Not leave a mark on the land
He said just vote with me,
His voice like sharks in sand

Chorus:
At the end of the world, there's no time to think
Try as you might you can't find the link
Between what's wrong and what seemed so right
The end of the world is one long dark night

Even though we grew too fat,
We refused to call it guzzling
We looked for some magic that
Made life on earth less puzzling

(Chorus)

But our magic became fatal
Our situation became so grave
There's even a pox on the rocks prenatal
We were slave to the way we behave

(Chorus and out)


As always, I'm out on a limb with a rough first draft. Looking for input and reaction. These things always undergo changes as I sleep on it and attempt to add music. Make the lines fit the music. That often changes a lot. Okay, have fun with it. Let me know what you think.

posted by Bud @ 4:40 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Friday, June 10, 2005

How the World Will End (and begin again)

So now there is a bacteria that will eat toxic waste and fart electricity? That's it! THE WORLD IS SAVED. There is nothing to worry about now. What could possibly go wrong?

As usual with a news story of this sort there are so many unanswered questions. But that never stopped anybody from jumping to conclusions. So I predict that it will spawn consumer products that purposefully produce toxic waste so people will have a ready supply of power for their major appliances, their green cars, their cellphones and iPods and computers and electric toothbrushes and bodywax melters and those little hotplates that they sell now to heat your scented candles so you don't actually have to burn them. What, you don't have one of those yet? Get with it.

I wonder what this bacteria considers toxic waste. Would fast food scraps and plain old garbage be included? All our recyclables? Our Styrofoam packaging? Kitty litter? Tampons? Our used car parts? Construction debris? Campaign posters? Disgraced politicians? Pedophiles? TV Evangelists? Horrific sitcoms? Where does it end? Are these suckers gonna eat everything and let off one enormous intergalactic fart?

THE BIG BANG! That's what caused it!

Amazing how you can answer the questions of the universe in a few short paragraphs and an active imagination, huh? Scripture in the making, baby.

But as is always my reason for posting, is there a song here? Not the style of song I prefer to write if we stay to these basic, uh, facts. Don't look for any lyrics today but I know how I'd approach this. Pat Pattison has excellent advice in his book Writing Better Lyrics. You can click the box for it below and right if you're into any kind of writing. I'll put you in my gift certificate drawing if you do. Just let me know. Details are on June 6 below.

I would have to pretend that the scenario I just imagined above is actually a sci-fi flick and I've been asked to write a song for it. I'd pick a theme. Let's say it's the concept of power from useful things becomes deadly dangerous. I'd start with that on a very useful worksheet Pattison offers and go from there. You may see a lyric on that eventually. But not today. I have to scout around for some toxic waste. The batteries in my guitars are wearing out way too fast.

posted by Bud @ 6:05 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Thursday, June 09, 2005

SWIMMING WITH DOLPHINS

Nobody ever told me that swimming with dolphins is considered harassment. Should I turn myself in or has the statute of limitations run out? That's one nice thing about the PETA folks. I shouldn't expect a car bomb from them if they read this. I told hundreds of people, including some marine biologists that I would swim with dolphins in the Atlantic every morning. Nobody ever pointed out I was breaking the law. I finally read it someplace. So I'm sorry. Please do not PETA me to death.

These thoughts come to me on the day that our sale of our Amelia Island beach condo is official. We bought the place about 8 years ago and spent vacations there when we weren't renting it out. My ritual to walk and run on the beach to watch the sunrise made me realize that the dolphins were so close I could swim with them. So eventually I did. And then I did it every day. I never touched one or went in if there were young ones with mothers.

I thought that was very wise. That was also before I understood that it was feeding time for sharks. The year Florida had all that bad news about shark bites ended this practice for me. A decision made for me by my wife who did the math and realized I'm underinsured. And too good a catch to give up to a shark, I would hope.

Owning vacation rental property from far away is very taxing on one's nerves. And very taxing as in skyrocketing taxes. They doubled at least twice. We never made a profit on that place while we owned it. But it was a muse for me. I wrote a lot of songs there. The most memorable is Windswept Girl. Written almost entirely on the beach and in the condo, watching the waves. I wrote the music to First Time Home there. I wrote One Before the Last there. That was just before we returned home to teach the year before the last year. I wrote To Be Alone there. I wrote some newer stuff there too. A lot of it will be on the next CD. I'll put up some rough cut samples here.

I never did write a song about swimming with dolphins. At some point I looked at my notebook and thinking, "Jimmy Buffett has already written all anybody wants to hear about the beaches in Florida." So I have several notebooks with verses that will be mined for ideas but not produced wholly as still more sun and sand songs. My co-writer, Kathy Feeney, wrote a good one recently, though. Open Shore. I did the music.

Chatting with Lisa of Bored Housewife about her recent inspiration to our lyric Cruel in Utah (see yesterday), I realized that my muse has been shifting this past year. It used to be the beach and particular people I would think of. Blogging about songwriting is in itself a kind of muse. And I run into people who write things that set me off the way Lisa did. I know there will be more from her and from others of my fellow bloggers who are gorgeous writers.

So that's it for Amelia. It was fun, girl. You gave me so much. I didn't leave my footprints in your sand but that's as it should be.

posted by Bud @ 5:20 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Why I Troll Bored Housewife Blogs

I ignored Bored Housewife, the blog, the first time I saw it because of the title. I was trolling Blog Explosion, I think. I had read so many blogs by actual bored and boring housewives that I just passed over this one. ERROR! ERROR!

Go there right now and check out some of Lisa's exquisite writing. It is alternately funny as hell, always totally irreverent. Often sexy but most of all well written. I've had flashes of lyric ideas reading Lisa's blog before but one day recently I saw this particular post and immediately asked her permission to use her words in a lyric. I wasn't sure she took me seriously but she seemed enthusiastic.

I finally got back to it yesterday and whipped off a first draft. When I ran it past Lisa for input, she peed herself with glee, I think. Her e-mail back to me was gleeful anyway. She loved it so I'll put it out in first draft form here. Remember, things can always change when I start trying to make it fit a tune. I haven't thought too much about that yet. Go read this post of hers first to see where it comes from and to get acquainted with Lisa, the never boring Bored Housewife.

CRUEL IN UTAH copyright 2005 by Lisa Anderson and Bud Buckley

Instead of you, we had too much rain this spring
And everybody else felt as shifty as I had been
People didn't know then what it would bring
I was sure it wasn't you, I'd never feel you skin again
Chorus:
'Cause it's not just the weather that's cruel in Utah
There's loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

The desert summer rushed in, abrupt and breathless
Adjusted it's skirt and wiped smudged lipstick off it's cheek
Then breathed down on us hard enough to cause a death wish
The desert's no place for the meek

'Cause it's not just the weather that's cruel in Utah
There's loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

With the thunderstorms of September the rain restarted
But instead of spring's shiftiness there was seething rage
The full moon made us crazy and I was more than broken hearted
And everything unnatural took the stage

Bridge
Tall slender women swayed in the wind like trees
Their skirts and jewelry sounding like dried leaves
Short roundish men all became still and gray
Moss growing on their shady side in the heat of the day
Children burst into flames when tears used to do just fine
As their pets ran off seeking fine cigars, expensive wine

I'm gonna grab a bolt of lightning with my bare feet in the mud
It'll give me a little shock, I'll give it a little tug
Roll it into a little ball and stuff it in my pocket
Ride the lightning into the storm, a sorry loveless rocket

'Cause it's not just the weather that's cruel in Utah
There's loneliness and boredom to drive you insane
If my smile was the last thing that you saw
You must be dead to be never coming back again

posted by Bud @ 5:16 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Monday, June 06, 2005

The Gift of Music for the Ungifted

You have an interest in music and/or lyrics. Otherwise you wouldn't be one of the 97 people who check this blog everyday. I think. If you don't play an instrument or write verse, you are just grooving on the Budster and that's fine too. Perhaps you have somebody near and dear to you who wants to play guitar or play it better or wants to write songs or do that better. I've been trying to encourage people like that. I lay it out there for all to see what I go through. But my advice and encouragement would be incomplete if I didn't share with you some of my resources.

The Amazon books listed on the right under the Blogroll are my basic workshop. I refer to these books often. I teach out of some of them. I've given several of them away as gifts. Father's day and graduation are upon us so I thought I would mention that. These are top notch learning resources. These are the best I'm aware of. There are more but I know these are useful. I know they work. I have a CD to prove it. And lots of other lyrics you've seen on this blog.

I want to feature the Pat Pattison book, Writing Better Lyrics. Pat teaches at Berklee College of Music in Boston. That is one kick ass school of performing arts. You can't spit at a meeting of top musicians without spraying somebody who went there. Pat gives many useful exercises in this book for getting down to your deepest core to write lyrics and to bang them into cliche' free lines that work. Even if it's ust poetry or prose you write, this book is a valuable resource. It's my favorite lyric writing book of all time.

If learning to play the guitar better is your goal or the goal of somebody you love, get them (or get yourself) the Fretboard Logic book or the box set. I bought the box set after I owned the book for a while. I thought the videos and the extra book (part III) were a more complete package, and I wasn't disappointed.
Give the Gift of Mu#15E53E

I must repeat my promise here that anything purchased from Amazon through this site will be eligible to win a drawing for an amazon gift certificate. But you must let me know you bought something so I'll know who to put in the drawing.
I'll repeat this offer from time to time. You can also buy my CD in one of several ways by clicking the banner at the top of the page. I'll even autograph it to the one you love.

posted by Bud @ 11:40 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Dealing With All Kinds of Madness

Mad as hell
Doyle Brooks is mad as hell. He's not taking it anymore. I remember when I felt that way. Well I'm still mad as hell. But I live in a place where I'm easily outvoted. I don't understand my generation. I'm not even sure I'm part of it sometimes. My generation invented rock 'n roll. My generation coined the phrase, "Don't trust anybody over thirty." My generation coined the phrases "Make love not war," "Capitalist pigs," And on and on. My generation elected a government that couldn't be further from those ideals. So while I agree with Doyle, I'm no longer willing to put myself out on a line for people to shoot at. I'm way younger than my years but I am retired. I want to live out my life happily with as little conflict as possible. But I do want my grown children to have a fair shot at the workplace.

Politics and the economy and what happens in the workplace and religion have all been balled together now. It's getting harder to discuss one without touching on the other.

I don't bet on an afterlife. I believe you can live this one morally and happily without worrying about an afterlife. If there is one, that's rather nice. If there isn't, well this one was just fine. So far. I aim to keep it that way. Without hurting anybody. That's my basic philosophy. And I'm just not gonna argue with anybody about it. So if you're preaching, please go away. If you're politicking, just let me see the REAL bottom line. Then go away. I'll vote and contribute to deserving candidates. If I were still working I'd still be a union organizer. But that time has passed.

But from time to time I do need to blow off steam. For me that usually means writing something. Some of it will never see the light of day but once in a while I'll take a risk. Why should I be embarrassed, after all? Considering some of the hate spewed venom that oozes out of the web on a daily basis by people with different views than I.

UnderGround
Bud Buckley copyright 2005

Parrots on a stop sign. Honeysuckle wall
Sweet smelling conflict, another subtle fall
Blinding sun in the East, storm clouds occlude West
Ride it down the middle, You can't tell what comes next

But when you're so confused you don't know what you've found
Take who and what you love and head for the underground


The air is getting filthy, so we'll call it nice and clean
The rivers run with mercury the fish are turning mean
There's killing done for freedom, we call it democracy
If it's in the name of God you can't call it hypocrisy

When your head is split with pain from all that sound
Take who and what you love and head for the underground

It's fine to get rich unless you're working with your hands
Ask for more money, your work goes to other lands
You buy that line and take pride in your work
'til your job is gone and you go berserk

When you're down so far you can't rebound
Take who and what you love and head for the underground

When you've got no place to go but down....head for the underground
Just before you come unwound......head for the underground
When your life's no better than a homeless hound.....head for the underground
When you can't sit and watch another one get crowned....head for the underground
When there is no up and there's nothing good around.....head for the underground


So I guess I'm underground but I am mad as hell. Who knows how mad I can get, Doyle?

posted by Bud @ 5:21 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Saturday, June 04, 2005

"Nun With a Gun"

A lot of people thought I was exaggerating in my song Sister Mary Confusing. Many people never had the Catholic school experience that I had when I was a child. You know, the days when corporal punishment was not only legal, it was expected. Others who were there and witnessed it fall into three camps. One group has adopted Denial as a second religion and denies there was any truth to what I observed in my song. The opposing camp is still having nightmares and writing songs or possibly novels about it. The third group is strangest of all because they admit they got the living crap knocked out of them frequently. Physically and emotionally. And they think it was good for them. Not all of them work in Guantanamo.

I wonder if this news story about a nun shaking down a parking patron with a loaded gun, will do anything to change anybody's mind or just reinforce their stand on this issue. Okay it is from a FOX affiliate so it's characteristically missing a LOT of supporting facts. But true or not, it doesn't surprise me. To be fair, the headline which says "Nun With a Gun" is typical FOX-speak. She was an ex-nun. The amazing part of the story is that she was trying to open a business called "Mary's Nutz." And, typically again, FOX makes no effort to explain that.

I know only too well there are a lot of men my age who are feeling a sharp pain of remembrance at that. They were the ones who, as maturing adolescent naughty boys hadn't tucked them properly when on the business end of a paddle.

Sister Mary Nutz, Sister Mary Nutz
Got her name from paddling butts
If you didn't know enough to tuck 'em
You weren't gonna use them for ....


Well, you get the idea. This could be for Nunsense the Sequel. It's way too creepy for me to finish.

posted by Bud @ 5:32 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Friday, June 03, 2005

Google Abuse Victim Becomes Amazon

I may be Googled up the Caboodle (see yesterday) but now I'm an Amazonian. And since I'm also reviewed and interviewed by MaliciousBitch.com and subsequently a columnist for the same organization, that looks like I'm getting in touch with my feminine side. Doesn't it? I'll restrain myself here from talking about my favorite football team or complaining about jock itch.

I'm not a web huckster. I want to show you how I write. I want to get your ideas about stuff to write about. If you want to buy my music in the meantime, well fantastic! Those Amazon.com ads you see under my Blogroll are products I use and endorse. If I ever post any I haven't used I will tell you. You can win stuff by buying them. From Me. Yeah, I'll get something out of it too. But where else will you have a chance to also win something? I'm not talking about discontinued dollar store items here. I promise you I did not buy a container full of lifelike fruit sculptures.

Most of my ads will be music related items. Sometimes I'll have non-music books and even software and electronic devices. If I buy them and like them, I'll post them.

Every quarter, I'll get about 5% of it back in the form of Amazon gift certificates which I will return to my readers every so often in the form of a contest. Yes, I will also take some items for myself. But I'll report to you if they were any good. Or not.

Doesn't matter if you're a musician or a songwriter. You may have friends and relatives who are. It's graduation time, ya know? Buy them something useful. Just let me know if you do so I can include you in a drawing for my gift certificates.

I won't elaborate too much here but I will say that the first three books by Rikky Rooksby are extremely good. I have written songs with ideas from all three. The most universally useful book down there on the left sidebar is The Inner Game of Music. If there is anybody who is learning or practicing any instrument, they need this book. This changed my whole approach to gaining skills. The last recommendation today is for guitarists: Fretboard Logic SE, or the more complete box set below that are essential. They will expand your ability to play beyond anything you've ever done. You do not need to read music to use ANY of these products. They will make you better. End of my pitch today.

I sit far away from spillable, snortable drinks when I read Dawn at Tiny Voices Inside My Head. She never fails to crack me up. She's quitting smoking and will recommend a book to you. She's also been carping about having small boobs lately. I like small boobs. No, I am not required to say that by my wife. But Dawn was writing yesterday about a certain euphoria she was experiencing. As a sign of spring, she found some dead ducklings on her pool cover and an old guy on a motorized scooter even ogled the new fresh smelling Dawn. I wrote this lyric for her:

I'm Free

Dead ducklings and scooter rides with old guys.
But this day's not sucking and these little hooters slide
Against my soft white shirt
Kind of makes them alert
Not even the dead or near dead get inside

I'm changing my attitude and I'm free
Mr. Jones can't get hold of me
I'm kind of expensive but I'm free
I'm breathing better and I can smell the sea


Well maybe you have to know Dawn to appreciate it.

posted by Bud @ 5:03 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Google Orgasms and Adus Interuptus

Google should be answerable to somebody. I had been carrying their ads on this blog forever. I tolerated and was even amused when they put up ads for vaginal odor, stun guns, bad-breath-in-dogs and other very off targets that their secret algorithm determined. I was offended at first but noticed I was making money. I also noticed that bizarre ads didn't go away if I mentioned them since the mention itself tripped the algorithm into multiple orgasms of more off-the-wall ads.
I dutifully clicked each ad once to see what the hell I was helping them sell. I even bought a few items myself. I smell pretty good now but I can be stunning.

They even sent me a check for more money than I made selling CD's in April. Then we went to Hawaii for six days. I never had access to my site because I was stuck behind a Marriott blocking system that was afraid I might be corrupted by my own site. The blocking software said it was because my site mentioned "beastiality." Oops, there, I mentioned it again. And just having that word in there guarantees that every school, library, and Marriott hotel on the planet will block my blog. But the actual quote on May 11 was, "We don't want to get into beastiality here."


Google's bigger than China, I think, so maybe they're just too busy to stop and listen to me. And maybe they can only afford to employ 12 year olds too. Not sure. So I've been having a conversation with their algorithm. Computers think they're so damn smart. So I have this dialogue with one at Google Adsense. They keep telling me their algorithm detected an abuse of my Google Adsense ads. They made it sound like some kind of unnatural act. Like I was fornicating with their advertisers in some unapproved way. Like I was getting all Jim Morrison on them. Backdoor Man and all that.

So I looked at my web stats and discovered that my site was hit about 6 times greater than normal on one day in May while I was in Hawaii. Couldn't tell if that was the day of the alleged abuse. Now I'm presenting evidence to Google as if I was an abuser. I know I live in Florida, but I'm not a native.

I told them I wouldn't sit tight on this. I will fight them somehow. Even if I give them a mild pain in the ass, it'll be worth it and fun too. Let me begin by advising you to BOYCOTT GOOGLE ADSENSE

Let me continue by asking you if you know of any other ad services I can use instead.

I was never a big fan of obvious protest songs. Bob Dylan swears in his Chronicles Part 1 that he was not a spokesperson for anything. I believe him. If I were ever going to get into that genre of songwriting, however, this would be the type of thing to set me off. What rhymes with Google? Oogle, caboodle, noodle, strudel, bugle, poodle, oodle, feudal.

Been Googled
I've been falsely accused by Google Adsense
They say I abused their feudal nonsense
What can you do about the abuse of Google?
You can tell them to shove the whole kit and caboodle

Adsense abuse, Adsense abuse
Google says there's no excuse
So tell them to put it up their caboose
I've been Googled (up the caboose)
I've been Googled (Fighting's no use)


Well that's really enough of that.
Your comments and suggestions, please.

posted by Bud @ 5:41 AM
Comments/Trackbacks:

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Hawaii Five Oh What a Time (Final Edition)

We take a trip up toward the North Shore to the Dole Plantation. Once again the guide book is on the money. Great gift shop, wonderful ice-cream. skip the train ride. Do you really need to pay money to go into the worlds biggest hedge maze and call for a rescue party? We learned all we wanted about pineapples, had a snack and drove back through some depressing military housing areas.

Later at Alan Wong's restaurant in Honolulu, we are totally wowed by the food and the presentation. The guide book does it yet again!
Tropical Iris

Wednesday brings a much more peaceful early coffee, Wildcats and a mongoose on the beach. The latter nearly walks into me before he notices I'm there and he darts into a bush. We have a last brunch with Mic and Robert who leave earlier than us and we spend our last hours on the beach under a tiki hut.

Bird of Paradise

It was a perfect vacation. the trip home was uncomfortable as any trip of that length would be but a hell of a lot better than that of captain Cook. Besides he didn't make it back from Hawaii the last time.

Afterthought: check this out from
Golf Widow,
if you haven't seen it. Check her funny podcasts from her site too.

posted by Bud @ 5:31 AM
Comments/Trackbacks: