Dancing naked in the rain

He who has a why to live can bear almost any how. ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Dancing naked in the rain is a metaphor and best sums up my approach to life-most times. I say most times as I, like many, do have times where I would rather crawl under the bed and hide from civilization.



Those days are getting farther apart. Maybe it’s because I am getting older that things don’t bother me as much any more. Dancing naked in the rain - let your thoughts be known, dream big, express yourself, let nothing get in the way and always enjoy life in the process, is my mantra now. I use to worry endlessly about the one person out of 100 that disliked my attitude or did not understand my intentions. I now know to focus my energy, and thoughts on the 99 and let the other “come around” or not.

I talk a lot about my Yankee upbringing and my approach to life that has some Southerners wincing at my attempts at it. I seem to be always in 5th gear, no slowing down or else I get the feeling I may just wither away.......




........and be gone forever.

I have a profound need of urgency to complete things, many things, all things



Let’s take a to look inward



So when I ask myself the age old question…What will be my mark on life? I think and can honestly say, I don’t know yet,maybe that’s not even the point. I am currently involved in and have experienced many things. It’s like I am running from the inevitable,not to escape, because I know that's not possible. But running to accomplish many things before time runs out.



trying to pack in as much of life’s joys in every second of my day. This can be very pleasing at times, but also very stressful to some. I am told to relax at home and work or anywhere else there is human contact. Some people take my need to experience what life has to offer right down to the molecules, as a bad thing, a stressful thing. I look at it as trying to enjoy it all, while I can.



I don’t think I am an exhibitionist……………….



But I do feel the need to “let it all out” ..... now! Express myself in ways I haven’t before. Writing (this blog) Photography and the Variety Show mentioned below and in mostly everything I do. I have a deep need to experience as much as I can. I am always thinking about taking long car trips and stopping off at all the little towns across the way to experience the town and talk to the local people. To go into local cafe's & diners and feel the warmth of a cup of coffee served in a old school porcelain cup.

My dancing naked in the rain mood is sometimes stoked with the visual and audio arts. Some things just leave me breathless and thinking. Take music and the movies for instance.If you were to ask me what are my most favorite movies besides the classics? I would submit to you the following movies and sountrack:



Baghdad Cafe-catch the theme song here

And..



Paris Texas-this instrumental bye Ry Cooder is simple yet compelling to me

The movie and the soundtrack of these movies hits a cord with me. They enter a part of me that is wanting, a longing a calling for something that I have not yet figured out.

Some may say that the movie Paris Texas is depressing, But I look at it as a persons attempt to come back from the brink, his longing for the past, but realization that he needs to move on and not get lost in life’s struggles.

The mind works in mysterious ways:



I do wear my heart on my sleeve most times, but that has not kept me from experiencing pure happiness in many things that I do in life. Nobody is perfect in anything that they do, but we learn to adapt to make things better. Take for instance my once fear of being stuck in a traffic jam on a large bridge (like the Tobin bridge in Boston)…



….. How did I get over this fear? I promised myself that if I did get to a point of panic in these situations, that I would open the car door, get out and dance in the face of the traffic jam...........Rain or no rain!



just the thought of this little dance in my head helped alleviate the problem. I don't have this fear anymore.

There is greatness and a story in everything in life we see and feel. To give you an idea of how my brain works (not too complicated) and how I am truly dancing naked in the rain with my camera in hand: I have taken a few of my photographs and have posted them below with the title of the photograph and a line of what I saw in the subject.What a great way to express yourself. Photography is a great window to ones mind.



Forbidden: Some people see this and feel excluded, my vision was more in terms of what I need to work towards to get to “the other side” nothing is more exciting than a challenge.



Day of Rest: Double meaning



Chair: The chair has had it-too tired to keep up road side appearances and has decided to say Fuc&* it, I am going to relax.



Bring it on: My feelings exactly-Dance in the rain baby!



Pathway: Where my thoughts go when I listen to some of the music I posted above



Survivor: There is hope for all-even a branch in the water



Self Image: Everything has one, especially on a sunny day :-)



love: Conquers all



Strong: Strong



On the outside looking in: Ever feel this way?



Faded Glory: Some people viewed this photograph and said it makes them think that this country is fading. I said no, what I see is a country that can endure!

One day I said to a photography friend of mine, hey, lets put on an art show of our photographs at a local museum,Invite the public, serve wine and cheese play some new age music and have a blast! why not?..We did and it was fun:





I have always been a cup is half full sort of guy........



.....always believing no matter what the problem, it will be resolved in the end. Or that if you want to do something that is a form of expression...go and dance baby! set your mind to it and it will get done.

Take for instance a thought I had that came out of an every day converstation. I had a conversation with my family on how poor today’s TV shows were. So I told them I would do my part and would do something about it. LOL! What the heck am I gonna do? So what did I do? I Produced, directed, was the stage hand and after show cleanup guy and bottle washer for a variety show entitled “Variety show for America”

Check out my you tube promo of the show here.

This was my direct response to the bug eating reality shows that were all over the TV a few years back. People constantly ask me even today-why did you do that?-my answer, always-Because I wanted to. At the time, I felt big band music in my soul and wanted to share

In my mind, thinking about dancing naked in the rain, makes me feel content and free to think and do as I please, all the while knowing I am trying my best to leave something good behind. Something when looked at in the future, would have a person say, "well, he really enjoyed life, get the umbrella Martha, we are going dancing"

Tell me about your Dancing naked in the rain moments..............

Am I a Yankee Doodle Dandy?

I am surely your American patriot type, I am grateful of all things this country has done for me. I take full advantage of my freedoms every day; I gave back and served in the military for 4 years. But does all of that make me a Yankee Doodle Dandy?

While in the South, I am always trying to shake the Yankee stereotype that we are arrogant,



pushy, to fast and that we are screamers.





Most people will tell you that everybody everywhere has their moments; there is no geographical area that doesn’t have people with “issues”

I have seen some very rude Southerners, but I must say ..you have to really listen to what they are saying to you, really listen, as the rudeness may come wrapped in Southern Charm. So, I read this book....



I don’t think we have any Northern or Yankee charm, when was the last time you have seen those words in the same sentence – Yankee and charm. So on the surface it may seem that some of that stereotyping may indeed be correct.

So when recently asked by a southerner “are you a Yankee doodle dandy”, I had to really think of my response, was he referring to my love of country or the popular song?



or was he asking me something a little more probing about my nature?



So I thought I would explore that question a little more before answering:


Yankee Doodle Dandy" is a patriotic song from the Broadway musical Little Johnny Jones written by George M. Cohan. The play opened at the Liberty Theater on November 7, 1904.The play concerns the trials and tribulations of a fictional American jockey, Johnny Jones (based on the real life jockey Tod Sloan of Bunker HIll, Indiana), who rides a horse named Yankee Doodle in the English Derby. Cohan incorporates snippets of several popular traditional American songs into his lyrics of this song, as he often did with his songs.


The song was performed by James Cagney in the 1942 film Yankee Doodle Dandy, in which he played Cohan.



An early hit version of the song was recorded by Cohan's contemporary and fellow Irish-American Billy Murray, who sang it as indicated in the lyrics.

The song lyrics…..

by George M. Cohan

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy
A Yankee Doodle, do or die
A real live nephew of my Uncle Sam
Born on the Fourth of July

I've got a Yankee Doodle sweetheart
She's my Yankee Doodle joy
Yankee Doodle came to London
Just to ride the ponies
I am the Yankee Doodle Boy

They don’t make them, like they use to…Click here for the Yankee Doodle Dandy movie trailer with James Cagney staring in the lead role

Many great patriotic songs from Mr. Cohan in this musical

Now, I took a few lines from the “Yankee Doodle Dandy” lyrics above to find out a little about myself, am I a Yankee Doodle dandy? What will be my response when asked again by a Southern Gentleman: So as a good Yankee, I broke the song down in to parts and did a little soul searching

I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy

I do my best to represent all Yankees while living here in the south. If I knew a little bit more about what exactly a Yankee Doodle Dandy is, I could probably answer this one with a little more enthusiasm. I am a Yankee, I don’t know about being a Doodle Dandy though? Let’s check the dictionary:

A doodle is a type of sketch, an unfocused drawing made while a person's attention is otherwise occupied.

A dandy[1] (also known as a beau and gallant[2]) is a man who places particular importance upon physical appearance.

So according to the English language, a Yankee Doodle Dandy could be easily translated into: A northern gentleman who is particular about his appearance with a short attention span?

A Yankee Doodle, do or die

Well, I don’t know if I have any control over this, I was born a Yankee and as they tell me down here, I will always be a Yankee, I don’t think you can change that.

A real live nephew of my Uncle Sam
Born on the Fourth of July

Well, I am a real live nephew of my uncle Gordon (was named after him) Uncle Gordon too was very patriotic, he served in WWII and reminded me constantly of the American dream that it could be mine if I persued it.

I wasn’t’ born on the fourth of July……………



But on April 9th, here are a few very important historical happenings throughout the years that happened on April 9:

1950
Bob Hope's 1st TV appearance

1912
Titanic leaves Queenstown, Ireland for New York

1878
1st Lady Lucy Hayes begins egg rolling contest on White House lawn

1865
Robert E. Lee and 26,765 troops, surrender to U.S. Grant at Appomattox

1831
Robert Jenkins loses an ear, starts war between Britain and Spain

1682
Robert La Salle claims lower Mississippi (Louisiana) for France

I've got a Yankee Doodle sweetheart
she’s my Yankee Doodle joy

Well I nailed this one: I did marry another Yankee, My sweetheart AJ is from Philly with a true northern heart ..I Just now asked her if she was my Yankee doodle sweetheart and she said “I don’t know, what does that mean?” I said “exactly” ..maybe she will read my blog?

Yankee Doodle came to London Just to ride the ponies

Well, I may fail on this passage as I have a problem with large animals. I don't know what it is but I don't do well around anything bigger than my dog max....


(Max and AJ)

We had the opportunity to "baby sit" a horse for a few months.



Jessie was a great horse, as horses go. I had to get up at 5:30am and feed him, change the water and generally clean his stall. I always kept him at 4 arms leanths away from me..I had this preminition that he was either going to kick or bite me. I need to have that fear looked at.

There are a few versions of this song; one popular version has this line:

Stuck a feather in his cap
And called it macaroni'.

My first thought of this passage?



I have always wondered what was being called macaroni, the feather, the cap, the horse, the rider?

But alas, In search of the real meaning, I submit to you……


A macaroni (or formerly maccaroni (OED),[1] in mid-18th-century England, was a fashionable fellow who dressed and even spoke in an outlandishly affected and epicene manner



The song “Yankee Doodle”, from the time of the American Revolutionary War, mentions a man who "stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni," the joke being that the Yankees were naive enough to believe that a feather in the hat was a sufficient mark of a macaroni. Whether or not these were alternative lyrics sung in the British army, they were enthusiastically taken up by the Yankees themselves

Yup, you heard it here first OR – you already knew!

Well, the bottom line with all of this? I think I will tell my Southern friend that

"Yes,I am a Yankee doodle dandy, Yankee Doodle, do or die
A real live nephew of my Uncle Gordon
Born on the ninth of April I've got a Yankee Doodle sweetheart
She's my Yankee Doodle AJ
Yankee Doodle came to London
Just to ride the ponies, (but I won't get on one)

I am the Yankee Doodle man. What of it?"

Taken to the Woodshed

Taken to the woodshed:

Today this phrase can mean many things:

*A spanking
*A big loss in a sporting event
*Out maneuvered in business
*Big loss in Vegas or on Wall Street
*Getting ripped off in general

etc......

But

Back in the day, being taken to the woodshed was an invite to experience pain, physical and mental pain. The invite meant you had to think about it, and I do not know if you could have rejected the invite. It would seem to be a very personal decision and by all accounts, the invitee was probability bigger than the invited.

This had me thinking........in the city, we had no woodsheds. I see many woodsheds here, down south.

I would have avoided the woodshed at all costs. The visions I have of this place are not good ones………..,



.......bad things happen in woodsheds. Being threatened to be taken to a woodshed, would be cause enough for me to schedule another appointment somewhere else for that same time period. I am not a wimp by no means, I had my share of “street fights” up north, but they were sort of impromptu affairs, and we were never “invited” to a specific place.

I don’t anticipate well,

Take my job for example; if I know a day ahead of time that I am going to speak to a room full of people but am last on the list of speakers, I go through hell, pure hell, thinking about all the things that WILL go wrong with my speech. I feel out of control, my hands get all sweaty and I am confident about one thing only,that I will say something completely stupid.......



.......and when standing in front of everybody, the fear of my zipper being down comes over me. How do I initiate a zipper check in front of all of these people? This is my internal woodshed. The speech goes OK, but I am exhausted with all the worrying.

Now, ask me to speak to this same group in an impromptu manner and I am Mr. Flamboyant........



.......and hit a home run with the speech, beaming at the end "awe, it was nothing" No thinking involved, no pre-speech jitters.

I am not a fighter

I am really not a fighter, but in the city I had to learn to at least expect a confrontation at some point growing up. Everybody got involved in some scrape or another,it was only a matter of time before the fight gods would shine the fight light on you.



I’ll fight you with one shoe off!

I consider my first ever “fight” a success. It was after Jr. High School, 3:15pmish, Wade Lamier called my shoes “Jesus kickers” (because my mom bought them at the Salvation Army) Now, I have nothing against our Savior, but was thinking my honor and my Mothers honor was somehow breached. So I pushed him, a crowd gathered he swung at me, I ducked and was getting ready to swing back, but as I was maneuvering to get the best shot, one of my shoes fell off!



Well,that led to loud laughter by all of the spectators and even my opponent. At the same time this was going on, the crossing guard (they were real police back then) came over and broke us up. I would have “creamed” him I would tell my friends later. No woodshed, out in the open and for all to see.

How you made it through city life unscathed was all about your “standing” in the neighborhood. This standing was directly related to your size and or what you did to make other kids notice you. It was a lot of perception and fake bravado as well; kids would “puff up” when threatened…



Most kids avoided a fight, but just like the puffer fish above, would display verbally, or physically their best attributes in war, then when really threatened and in imminent danger ------- they would run or stay and get their ass beat.

There were also some neighborhood kids who talked the talk and punched the punch.

My friend Raymond was known as a puncher! If you pissed him off, he would walk over to you softly and without warning lean back and let you have it square on the nose – no woodshed invite here. I wanted to be Raymond’s best friend, and I was, although we had a Rocky (no pun intended) start.

It was a very hot day in Dorchester, a city on the outskirts of Boston, I was 14 at the time, I remember playing with a water hose.....



......and Raymond walked over to say something, so I sprayed him, not just a light spray but a soaking wet spray. If it was just the two of us he probably would have laughed it off, but because there were friends around who were laughing, Raymond took action. No Woodshed invite, but he came and walked over to me and with the precision of a cruise missile, and the force of a jackhammer, punched me directly on the nose.



It was over with one punch, no use in puffing up to Raymond, he was big and fearless. I have never been hit like that before or since. Blood everywhere, the pain and message was sent. I respect a dry Raymond. We were the best of friends after that, we both had respect for each other and I think he felt sorry for belting me.

I palled around with the big boppers, told jokes etc..I was protected, after all, as a kid I was a skinny, 150 pounder. An inner city neighborhood could be very mean and if you were not liked, your life was miserable! My mission was to blend in, not a leader or a follower, sort of in the middle and that suited me just fine. My altercations are tame in comparison to the fights I did see, I was lucky.

You must have a story about an altercation growing up? What happened, what did you do? And do you think about it to this day? I would love to hear from you.