Late December 2018:

OUT WITH THE OLD, IN WITH THE OLD

Things I learned (or knew already) for this New Year:

1. That I re-learn the same things over and over before they "take". And they often never "take", as you can't learn everything in one life. Well, I can't.


2. That you could say that anger is a charleyhorse of the mind.


3. That it's better to be alive than not, and what most of us are asked to do while alive is generally not that scary. But sure can seem so in anticipation, or in (as I tend to think of things), "dread".

   ---

   I remember thinking at seven years of age: Oh man, I don't know how I'll get through the third grade. Multiplication, man.

---


4. That at Christmastide it can be comforting to contemplate the lyric to "Deck Us All With Boston Charlie", by Walt Kelly, bless his heart, which, luckily for you, I reproduce from memory here:

     "Deck us all with Boston Charlie
   
      Walla Walla, Wash., and Kalamazoo
   
      Nora's freezing on the trolley
   
      Swaller dollar cauliflower alley-ga-roo
   
      Don't we know archaic barrel?
   
      Lullaby, Lilla-boy, Louisville Lou---
   
      Trolley Molly don't love Harold
   
      Boola boola Pensacoola hullaballoo!"
      

5. That "I Am The Walrus" is more and more obviously the best song ever.


6. That some of the more foolish lyrics I have written get even worse-seeming as I get older, and will wake me up at night for an intense and despairing re-examination if I forget to take an alprazolam; regardless, I continue to attempt to write.


7. That, most foolhardily, I'll continue to write songs in a world where there is already John Prine.


8. That I have a gig on Epiphany---at City Winery on January 6th at 7PM---opening for Sons Of The Never Wrong. And I'm either getting $250 or $250,000 (the contract was smudged).

Happy New Year to all!

Mid-Ocober 2018:

HALLOWE'EN:

Once upon a time I and everyone I knew got dressed up in costumes for Hallowe'en. We'd go door to door for free stuff and for all the adults to marvel at our outfits. In later life there'd be Hallowe'en parties and we didn't go door to door anymore and it wasn't nearly as exciting as getting all this free stuff and all your neighbors professing to not know who you were.

And somewhere along the way I stopped taking any pleasure in getting all dressed up. Maybe it had something to do with going to a Hallowe'en party in college with nobody else (somehow) dressed up but me. There I was in this Dracula outfit, a red-lined cape & fangs etc. and man, the only one there in a costume, trying to feel cool nonetheless. That was a day that wearing any Hallowe'en costume just suddenly seemed pretty dorky to me.

I felt like the coyote in the Roadrunner cartoon, standing in mid-air. What I'm getting at is that things are acceptable and fun, and then they're not, and suddenly seeing that the status has surprisingly changed when you weren't looking is part of becoming an adult, which I may accomplish if I get reincarnated. When folks whom I know still like getting dressed up for Hallowe'en I always think: how light-hearted of them.

Recently I shared on Facebook a photo of the Obamas, simply because I sure miss him being President, they are both clearly such lovely people, and both are so beautiful that I love to look at them. And, man, it tripped a whole political argument among my Facebook friends. I could sense they were getting into it and haven't gone back there. I certainly will never do that again. This is a time when what people think politically will surprise you and often not in a pleasant way. Again, the coyote.

A friend of mine told me a charming story. In her town when the kids come round for Hallowe'en they say "Trick or treat! Smell my feet!" and one little boy came to her door and she prompted him with that line, and she could tell he was struggling to come up with some rejoinder equally outrageous to respond in the right spirit of things, and he said something like, "I'll take off your underwear!" and then he had this look like, I hope that was OK? And she laughed and (she told me that) she was so glad that this little kid's improvisation was in front of her instead of somebody who'd get offended.

So check out my October (Bradbury Time) calendar, I am working on some new and scary stuff, so don't get offended. And if you come to my show, afterward tell me: Trick or treat! Smell my feet! OK, bye.

Late March 2018:

MICHAEL P. SMITH---SONGWRITING (MY NEW RECORDING)

A few months ago I did a program about songwriting at that classy WFMT in Chicago with the encouragement of the estimable Rich Warren of Midnight Special, who has certainly made it clear to me that he's into my songwriting. This is so reassuring, lemme tellya. This program has become my newest recording and my friend Jamie O'Reilly made this recording happen. Bless you, Jamie, Rich and FMT staff, this wouldn't have happened in a million years without you.

On this recording I wanted to line out for people who want to venture into songwriting, a simple path, the one I've taken. I think of myself as someone who is not particularly gifted, nor am I at all musically educated, no McCartney or Bernstein. I am an amateur, in the sense that I write songs because I love doing it, better yet, love the feeling of having done it...my idea is loving what you do will give you some big advantages that can in time result in a decent song or two. And oh, I have thought about this for years and years...this recording is made for people who are starting to get into songwriting. I was as direct as possible.

Art, man. It's such a matter of opinion. And of whose opinion. If you are into YouTube you know that there's a lot of thoughtless negativity out there. But (if you can dig this) nobody I've ever known who was actually creative gave negativity any credence for long. I mean, we all lose faith in ourselves at one time or another...in the wee small hours. But when morning comes you make your bed and then you try to make something beautiful for yourself, right?

I wanted to make a recording that, had I heard it from someone else, would inspire me. And I think that's what this recording is. And I think that you can only get this one from me by mail order. So when it's raining, have no regrets, and Happy Birthday to my dear brother Leo in Oregon, where it's pretty much always raining, yeah? OK bye.