Dylan at the Palace- April 28, 2013

Last night's show at the Palace found Dylan and Company in fine form, movin' through a total of sixteen tunes.

Legendary blues artist Duke Robillard, who figured in heavily on Dylan's 1997 release "Time Out Of Mind", has assumed lead guitar duties with the tourin' band. As might be expected, his presence gave the entire set a strong bluesy feel. Major reworkin' of nearly every song made for a fresh, extremely cohesive night of music.

Dylan spent a great deal of the early part of the show singin' and droppin' in some of the best harp work I have seen from him. The band appeared to be enjoyin' themselves and this came through in the performances. It was evident by the end of the first selection, "Things Have Changed", that this was gonna be a Good One.

The latter portion of the evenin' had Dylan stayin' mostly at the piano. Robillard's guitar gave Dylan a few opportunities to step out in a bit of a different fashion from his usual approach.

Not once did Dylan pick up the guitar. (A minor disappointment for me- I like Dylan's guitar playin'...)

A number of songs had such radically different arrangements from what I was used to hearin', that there were times the band would be well into the intro before I could pin down what they were playin'. A couple times I wasn't even certain what they had begun until the lyrics started.

This show has made on to my Short List of Favorite Dylan Shows.

Damn Good Time...

Fish

Set List:

Things Have Changed*
Love Sick
High Water (For Charlie Patton)*
Soon After Midnight
Early Roman Kings*
Tangled Up In Blue
Pay In Blood
Visions Of Johanna*
Spirit Of The Water
Beyond Here Lies Nothin'*
Blind Willie McTell*
What Good Am I?
Thunder On The Mountain
Scarlet Town
All Along The Watchtower*
Ballad Of A Thin Man*

*Tough, but these are some of the highlights of the evenin' for me...

Of course, it would be wrong not to mention the venue- the Louisville Palace is hands down the most beautiful venue we have here in Louisville. Probsbly the coolest place I have ever had the pleasure to see a show. Breathtakin', exceptional sound, and loaded with history. We should consider ourselves lucky to have such a place.

Thanks, once again, to the Fine Folks at WFPK, without whose complimentary ticket giveaways I would have certainly been unable to attend last night's excellent show!

2010 Assault (Homicide) by Discharge of Firearms- Center for Disease Control (Or- Somebody Got Pissed and Shot and Killed Somebody, 2010)

Okay, Girls and Boys-

There has been so much "information" comin' down the pike of late in regard to guns, gun control, gun violence (ad nauseum), that I felt compelled to do some diggin' on my own and try and find somethin' close to statistically legitimate and specific- particularly "Homicides by Discharge of Firearms" here in this Great Country of Ours.

(No, not bein' sarcastic- I love my Country. So don't give me no shit if this should happen to conflict with your Particular Worldview.)

I finally found that the CDC (Center for Disease Control) doesn't just track my particular morbid statistic, but what appeared to me to be damn near any earthly way a body could cash it in.

Once my head stopped swimmin' from the shear numbers of ways to die and I regained my focus, I found these statistics for "Assault (Homicide) by Discharge of Firearms". ( No, these numbers DO NOT include Accidents or Suicide or Casualties of War. The Suicide count which, by the way, is freakin' huge! A whole other discussion...)

Just to be clear- everyone knows that "homicide" means there was a victim, a "target", and they ended up dead, right? There are no degrees of Dead. Dead is just Dead.

Okay...

Ready?

Here it is, anyway-

In the United States, in 2010:

"Assault (Homicide) Deaths by Discharge of Firearms" (by Age of Victims)-

Less than one year of age- 11
1-4 years of age- 43
5-14 years of age- 165
15-24 years of age- 3,889
25-34 years of age- 3,331
35-44 years of age- 1,673
45-54 years of age- 1097
55-64 years of age- 533
65-74 years of age- 207
75-84 years of age- 90
Over 85 years of age- 34
Not stated- 5

All ages- 11,078

This is the number of American Citizens intentionally shot to death in the United States in 2010.

I wanna go on, extrapolate, but I won't.

Okay- I will. Just a little...

I would ask this: That everyone think of how incensed we become over the disgustin' things that took place in Oklahoma City, New York, and now, Boston. Think about how angry we get (rightfully so), and how urgent Our Demand for Justice. Then, consider Our Lack- nay- Complete Absence of Outrage concernin' the "Statistics" above.

Numbers. All representin' Dead Americans. Intentionally Robbed of Life at the hands of Another- with a Gun. Someone's Parents. Someone's Children. Friends. Companions. All in the space of One Damn Calendar Year, with the Same Damn Tool.

Think about it. Politicize it, if you think that's what's important. These are Facts. Pure as we're gonna get. I can't tell you what to do with it. I expect Most will turn their heads.

But, if you read this, don't act like you didn't know, because now you do.

Fish

What a Rush...

Okay. I admit- I don't ever really recall sittin' and spendin' any more than a few seconds listenin' to Rush Limbaugh at any given time. Felt I'd heard enough clips and quotes via other avenues over the past couple decades to know that Me and Rush are basically without overlap- politically, idealogically, morally, ethically, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... Nope, none.

So, I get in the company van earlier today. The radio is switched to AM (red flag, right there) and Rush is on. So, I assume out of some morbid personal curiosity, I leave it there.

And I listen...

Durin' the course of next three to four minutes that I subject myself to this "show"(?), I hear nothin' but a non-stop, ugly, name-callin', insult-slingin', mockin', derogatory, pessimistic, venom-spewin', piss-and-moan, hate-monger bitch-fest, the likes of which I don't think I have ever had the misfortune of hearin' before. No "meaningful dialogue.". No "discussion". Just mind-blowin', jaw-droppin' rhetoric! I am freakin' out! Yeah! Me...!

(Breathe...)

Damn.
If this stuff is indicative of the kind of thing that apparently shitloads of my Fellow Countrymen are choosin' to include in their regular diet of Sorry-Ass "Entertainment", then a good lot of things instantly become clearer for me to see and a little bit easier to fathom-

The Level of Hate and Intolerance I see around me every day is a Big Mystery no more. The Veil has been lifted.

The Blisterin' Contempt with which we so easily hold Our Down-Trodden and Less-Fortunate is no longer surprisin'. (Expected...?)

(Drink...)

The Deaf Ear and the Blind Eye that so often decide to ignore Fact and Reason, optin' instead to posit that Compassion is a Curse- a Burden yoked only by the Weak- these are now recognizd as Enviable Skills, as in "if I had been a bigger, more closed-minded prick, I might woulda had a better chance..."

The Capacity to be led by the Nose by our Opressors/Manipulators/Abusers- those loungin' across eider down pillows while bein' fed golden grapes by hosts of both Virgins and Harlots- as we relish in every minute of our Stupidity? This is the New Corporate Fascism. The True Face of Capitalism Run Amok and a Populace Turned Commodity. Rendered blind. Lazy. Blissfuly Ignorant. Mean-Spirited Mobs- all Pitchforks and Torches. Tens of thousands sharin' a Single Brain, and a shitty one at that.

Bigotry, Intolerance, even Racism? All dressed up in thousand dollar suits and white and purple robes, espousin' their Proclamations of Infallability and Unwaverin' Blockhead Conviction. Annointin' the Hoarde with their Faux Concern, dumped from heart-shaped boxes made of Death Warrants and Eviction Notices, pasted together with Blood and Bile. Uncompromisin'. Haughty. Swollen Fat with Pride. Drunk on the Sweat of Others.

These Abandonments of Collective Empathy are no longer recognized as Flaws of Character, Errors in Judgment, but are absurdly held up as Examples of the New Virtues, Badges of the Iron-Fisted. The Absolutely Righteous. These Cancers now displace Compassion, Understandin', Empathy- things which were once Treasured and Admired Values, but are now considered only Pathetic, Fragile. Crushable. So Crushable.

At Best? Instrumental in the Design and Implementation of an Untenable Situation.
At worst? Simple Doom.

Unbelievable?

Sadly, no.

Not so much now. No...

I think I might be sick...

"Speed School"

Street Art- Lexington, Kentucky 3/7/2013

Gatewood Galbraith
Image stenciled on the door of a vacant building in downtown Lexington, Kentucky.
Artist Unknown
Photo taken the evening of March 7, 2013

Flood

Rained eight straight days
Then it rained some more
The river ran wild
Like a cocaine whore
Earth to Mud
As the Trouble soaked in
With the bridge washed out
And our Faith stretched thin

We reckoned it'd stop
Like it done before
Got to thinkin' different
When it reached the door
Daddy said "We can't stay,
Else we'll wind up dead"
So I dragged that boat
From in back of the shed

The river was risin'
And I told her so
Said I was sorry
But we had to go
She said "You don't love me,
And you never did.
You trapped me here
With this bastard kid."

I said "It don't matter.
We all gotta go.
Wrap the Baby in a blanket,
No time for no show."
But the storm raged on
Inside a her head
"No way out.
Better off dead"

Took hold of her arm
Pulled 'em toward the door
The water comin' up
Through the cabin floor
But she kept pullin' back
Repeatin' what she'd said
"No way out.
Better off dead."

Through the back door
My heart in my throat
Mama and Daddy
At the back of the boat
She slips from my grip
As the porch gives way
Competin' with Thunder
For Noise of the Day

The water blows past
Pushin' garbage and trees
I fall back in the boat
Climb up to my knees
Liftin' my head
I'm hearin' her scream
Lightning flashin'
A Nightmare's Dream

An instant she struggles
Then they're swept outta sight
Her and the Baby
Into Hell, into Night
A bolt shoots down
Splittin' open the Black
Me shoutin' her name
Daddy holdin' me back

The river pulled back
When the storm finally eased
The crops are all ruined
The well is diseased
We searched for a week
For my Wife and my Child
The pain is all mine
A debt reconciled

Ain't got clothes
No place to sleep
What ain't washed away
Ain't fit to keep
There's a mark on the windows
From where the the water went down
The dog's run off
The cats all drown

Ain't nothin' here
But my folks and me
And this blanket I pulled
From a cypress tree
Ain't no graves
Not even a stone
Don't know where they are
Just know that they're gone

Mamma won't stop cryin'
Daddy don't say shit
Keeps scroungin' around
Can't get 'em to quit
Just more sorry livin'
Workin' in vain
Tradin' Sorry Existence
For Anguish and Pain

A life barely worth livin'
Was all I could give
This ground and this place
Weren't no way to live
But her hard times are over
No space for doubt
In the Wake of the Flood
She found a way out

Now it's my time
For a desperate turn
No chance for redemption
No dry wood to burn
Just the grief and the guilt
Ain't a glimmer of hope
But I'll find my escape
With Whiskey and Rope

If I Bleed

If I bleed
For what I've said
Like gravity pulling
A crimson thread
Will my heart grow cold
And hard as stone
If I keep my eyes closed
Will the pain be gone
If I bleed...

If I fall
Should I lose my grip
Misjudge the gap
A fatal slip
Would I fall forever
A cat down the well
Knowing I won't have
To live to tell
If I fall...

If I lose
On the final play
Use my last token
At the end of the day
Might I vanish
Without even a trace
And bid farewell
To this lonely place
If I lose...

If I bleed
And it just won't stop
If my life should fade
Drop by drop
Would it leave a mark
Will you call it a stain
Could you wipe it away
Would it end my pain
If I bleed...

If I bleed...