jpaulgorman

  How bout the Ace. Such a pretty face. Then the King. The joy he brings. I love the Queen. She makes me sing. But that dang ole Jack. Think he tripped out the back. Don't get in a rush. Wait for the flush. Don't take the bait. Tough to get a straight. Then the sublime. Sweet four of a kind. Gotta pay your dues. With the Full House Blues. Time to double down. Make up some ground. Put on your shades. Don't give it away. Take it to the end, friend. The dealer's gonna win. Don't you know, The dealer's gonna win. EAEx3 DAE

  I ain't got no boots, Ain't got no boots. Going to Ft. Worth in my shoes. Ye Old Bull And Bush, Ye Old Bull And Bush. Gonna bring my own food. Then it's Billy Strings, Then it's Billy Strings. Gonna knock off the arena roof. We'll get in the groove. He'll take us through our moods. We might get high. We might get high. I ain't got no boots, Ain't got no boots. Going to Ft. Worth in my shoes. D D7 CD CG CG AmCx2

The passport line is jammed packed.  Same as the drivers licence office, same as the registration office, same as all the other offices.  Fees and taxes and stickers and take a number, the waiting room awaits.  The chairs are hard and dirty, but the offices don't care.  Lots of cranky people looking to bolt the country, evidently. For reasons of disgust or fear, or both.  Maybe it's the jolt they needed, the liberty roar of the rational people.  We've been around.  The death of hair metal, the rise of the walkman, the smartphone takeover, glowing social scenes.  Lenny Kravitz.   It ain't over til it's over.  Robots building robots, loaded with all of human knowledge.  Softwired to learn.  Fearless for space, brave and new.  Looking up and staying busy, seeking technical improvements.

  The flag has its proper place.  Behind God, and family, and health, and good times, and sleep, and dreams.  Behind friends, and food, and a good movie, too.  Or a good book, nothing's better than a good book.  Maybe a Grand Slam 5-setter is better than a good book, if Nadal and Novak are involved. Looking for the perfect sentence.  No way I could write it, but I'll read it somewhere, someday.  It will come from a young person, the old are too worn.  It will be spontaneous and true and short.  It will stop any reader. T-shirts will be made.  Hats and koozies.  This perfect sentence will change the world one letter at a time.  All the flags of the world will hang like sad rags.  The air will be still.

Like a surgery, there's no need to watch.  The staff'll brief you in the waiting room when it's over, the victims can take visitors when the anesthesia wears off.  One at a time, please.  They'll be confused, ornery, and mean.  Have patience with the patients. None of it flys in the modern world, the ridiculousness, the mental excuses, the Poor-Ole-Me crowd, the justifications of deceptions.  We hit the low already, around the time our intelligence was insulted by the intelligence communities.  Only federal spooks crawl out a moving truck and march down the street like masked lunatics waving obnoxious flags around.  Stir it up for the cameras, make a show.  Lots of fine people injected with bleach having a bloodbath while insulting soldiers. We're sitting in the waiting room, trying not to make eye contact.  All the magazines are old and dirty, the time clicks away.  The doctors are doing their thing.  This is our own island, it's j...

  So touchy Old America was, lots of off limits words, lots of off limits humor.  Feelings were being hurt at a record pace, a flood of tears, always tears.  Anger, sadness, guilt, everything was tears.  Except laughter, only snide jeers were allowed.  Profiling lost its edge, the kind everyone knows is hilariously true, silently acknowledged by most. Most know where to get good donuts, for example.  Most are leery of a certain demographic of driver.  Most aren't afraid to talk to Russians.  Most aren't huffing the gas anymore.  Let's bag on each other, but keep it funny. The self-righteous wail either way, easily offended and quick to offend.  Irony undetected, hypocrisy lost.  Covered in shame, without pride.  Loony, in a way, good for a chuckle.  A sad chuckle.

  Outsiders are in, insiders are out.  Populism goes the people.  Keep your bottle of red, keep your bottle of blue, we're going with the clear liquid this time.  We want to see through it.  No more roofies from the employees. The lake must be dried, the bottom must be examined, the stumps must be cleared, the beaches must be combed.  Get a rocket eye view, down with the tyrants.  They'll go kicking, screaming, and changing the subject.  Back to skin tint, ignoring skin thickness once again.  Mock them relentlessly, bleed their sour cancer. For laughs, of course, but also to save them.  Their brains are confused and frightened.  It's fight or flight or shave your head and join the Dry War.  Their choices are dwindling.  Hang in there, maybe they can get to Mars one day.

  Of course, America was never gone for good.  It was a temporary gut check, a look in the mirror, a decision.  The slime still oozes, but not as much.  The gas it still lit, but it's dimmer, it's flickering out.  Sanity and it's clarity, rationality and it's reality. Hilarious is what's left, wrecked minds of woe and depression.  Go with acceptance, anger has no future, the shock was enough.  Get back to whining and moaning, it suits the mushed brains better.  The artists are triggered, finally we'll get some good music.  More stick-it-to-the-man, less endorsements. Change all the rules, talk to only a few folks, get it done.  Debate nobody, the debate is over.  Clear out old-timers, scram you greasers, so long bribers and blackmailers.  The Light Lobby has arrived, the Sledgehammer Lobby is being formed.  Demolition of the American kind.

  Plasmoids. Implosion versus explosion. Supression of the models. Open sourced. The Maldives Lab. Geometry was the key all along. Frequencies of the elements. Sacred geometry. Donut shaped clusters. Enormous amounts of energy. Turoidal orbit. Self-charging atomic batteries.

  Mr. Bluecheck 79er, Meet you at the diner. We'll both go out and find her. Before this night is through. She said she was a lady, Before she was my baby. She said I made her crazy, Swore I made her blue. All night I've been glowing, My eyes, they've been stolen. You know what I'm knowing, You know what I knew. Now we got each other, Two reluctant brothers. Searching for my lover, Disappeared, what can I do?

  What ever happened to Mr. Coffee, hope he's doing swell. Standing in line at the Starbucks station, think we're 'bout to bail. Do we really need these Macchiatos, first thing that we drink. Get a bucket of pure Columbian, Mr. Coffee's all we need. *A JingleHut creation .

Say what's that you say. Can't walk outside on this sunny day. Can't have a smoke in the sun rays. Can't throw the King any shade. Too tolerant. Of our parliament. Of our occupants. Those that represent. Say what's that you say. Can't walk outside on this sunny day. Can't have a smoke in the sun rays. Can't throw the King any shade. EA EDD7 EA D7AE AEx3 D7AE

  At least I'll knock a 7 close. At least I'll hit one nice. Prolly smash a drive or two. Might cure my ancient slice. Big trees and bumble bees. Ivy that'll poison your skin. Creek cliffs and smoke sniffs. Smoothly hunting pins. Should I hit my seven. Should I hit my three. Think I'll lose my mind. If I hit that fucking tree. Focus on the mental game. Keep it all to myself. Listen to Uncle Tupelo. Music's good for my health. Keep it in the fairway, man. Best not rely on luck. Swear golf makes us swear. 'Damns' & 'Hells' & 'Fucks'. GC DCG CGx3 DCG

  Already August. What happened to June. Forgot 'bout July. Ended way to soon. Oh my, how time flys. Everybody knows. Seasons go and come. And the years just roll. May left me whacked out. April left me wet. March left me hollow. Lost a madness bet. First two months wiz by. All the freeze and cold. The worst time of year. Valentine's get old. It'll be fall again. Soon enough my dear. September's next up. October is near. Then it's Thanksgiving. The Holiday cheer. December wraps up. Another fine year. EmGB7 *Co-Write A. Ball.

  Back home, I immediately took three mosquito bites on my back patio, time for another poisoning, lather up in deet.  Mosquitos know where the blood is, the Hook Of Texas is sparse on blood, everything is so spread out, blood per square mile has to be miniscule compared to cities and suburbs.  Standing water don't stand for long out there, but I'm sure a few of those bloodthirsty bastards live there anyway.  Mosquitos will be the last living creatures on earth, outliving cockroaches, rats, and classic rock.  To which I say, you don't have to try and sound like Neil Young when you sing a Neil Young cover, back to the music. Pedal Steel Noah's instrumental rendition of Billy Idol's Eye Without A Face at Marfa Spirit Company Friday night took me and shook me.  Played properly, the instrument pierces the venue like a blade, the sound is completely unique and will never leave me, vocals would have ruined the set.  Shouts to the bass player, rad is rad....

  Enjoying this Alpine Monday. Skipped out, got my bills all paid. Seems the edge of America. Mountains and murals and cactus. Fire took out a block downtown. It's blocked off, it'll come back around. Harry's been closed for over a year. Only place I really wanna drink a beer. Golf course looks so serene. But it's closed on Mondays, gotta cut the greens. New wing at the Big Bend Muesem But it's closed on Mondays, my options running thin. Kept raining til the afternoon. When it clears out, gonna drive a loop. Ft. Davis to Mafa and back. A few stops, think I'll pack a backpack. CG DCG

  The West Texas Exiles were back at Viva Big Bend this year with two shows. Railroad Blues in Alpine at 11pm Thursday and The Gage Hotel in Marathon at 2:15pm the following day (A bloody mary gig there ever was one, the Gage is posh.)  I was angling for an interview, these words don't write themselves, besides, I had questions about Charlie, appleseeds, and counting days after their banging 1st show.  Due to streaming their collection of music the previous few days, I was familiar, in the know, and curious. Friday morning came quick, even for a spectating observer, I wondered how the band felt, this is not easy work.  The Gage was packed.  This was gonna be tight, this was going to require a different version of the band.  The Railroad Blues show was what you would expect, the Exiles are experts at late night enders.  They did 3 encores, including Not Fade Away with the lead singer of Two Tons If Steel featuring Trinidad, the drummer, literally vibrat...

  Black Jack's Crossing Golf Course at Lajitas is the oddest thing, but in a fabulous way, the best of odd.  Thick, lush, grass islands surrounded by harsh, sparse, desert landscape.  Expensive beyond rational reason, but worth every dime.  I was, literally, the only golfer on the course, it was quiet out there, only buzzings and chirpings and hissings and a few echoing vulgarities--missed 3 foot putts are inescapable, even in paradise.  Overall, a boring 83 on the scorecard, no doubles or triples, no birdies, the rest pars and bogies, one penalty stroke, three putted 18. After an impressive supper at the resort's fine restaurant, I headed to Terlingua to catch the Viva Big Bend Music Festival opener at the Starlight Theater.  Dusk was close.  Keegan McInroe, from Ft. Worth, was the headliner.  He'd pulled together some locals and a horn player from Lubbock to form his nameless band.  They were odd, and they were hot. The Starlight Theater is...

  It's just higher here.  The highest elevated golf course in Texas is located in Marfa, the Balmorhea pool has a high dive, the landscape between is high, green, rocky, cliffy, and dreamy.  Highway 17 connected the two towns, with Fort Davis in between.  It went through Wild Rose Pass, the "higher pass", used to avoid the floods by native tribes and military regiments.  "Famed for its wealth of wild roses," the historical marker read.   And actual oasis exists in Balmorhea, where locals float, snorkel, and swim in every season.  The temperature of the spring fed water remains between 72-76 degrees year round. It's the largest spring fed pool in the entire world.  The crystal clear water of the San Solomon Springs, also knows as Mescalero Springs, feeds the pool, which includes its own species of fish called Comanche Fish, almost minnow-like, found nowhere else on Earth. After the cool cooldown, I drove to Marfa to play some golf.  It ha...

  Sitting on the hospital patio, I tried to feel what they may have felt, gazing off into the mountain scenes.  Healing, hopefully.  Late 1800's, a far away U.S. military fort, built to patrol and protect the old 600 mile San Antonio-El Paso Road.  Fort Davis, named for Jefferson Davis (Yes, that Jefferson Davis), established in 1854, before the country split over bondage and chains--I'm damn glad the Yanks won, damnit!  Ironically, the Buffalo Soldiers were later stationed here and went on to earn legendary American status. It was no use, though, they didn't have Miles Davis through an ear pod, or an ice cold koozied bottle of Spaten Oktoberfest, or a car ready to cruise back to a comfortable Alpine adobe.  I hadn't seen what they'd seen, I wasn't where they were, I could never feel what they felt.  Time and space move together.  These fort buildings and ruins were just bones, there was no life in them.  This was a museum now, and a good one...

  No need for loose plans, they were already ingrained.  My wanderings out to the Hook of Texas seemed hard wired for some reason.  Their own rituals, checklists, hot spots, and views.  Solo this trip out, I missed my daughters everywhere I looked.  They talked the whole way last year, the entire 8 hour drive, the time flew, everything was new to them, the Monahans Sandhills blew them away.  Alone this year, I biked a loop, I ate a quick lunch, I was grateful, I found Revolution Road 1776, and I sped south. But first, a quart of oil for the old, black 2011 Toyota Camry.  A fine, fine automobile.  Air still conditions, roof still moons, seats still bucket.  Bike fits in the back seat.  217k miles seems imminent.   I drove into Alpine late afternoon, clouds were gathering, the sun was whipping them up, the mountains made them swirl, it was glorious.  My spirit jumped, it still had hops, it just missed the competition.  ...

  "Nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to say.  We got it figured, though, there wasn't any fish smell within the entire interior perimeter.  It was all on the up and up, just your typical, everyday, goober boy taking shots from a sloped roof.  To anticipate that scenario is a bridge too far, who could predict the future.  We're only humans, theys, thems, and thats." To defend the conclusions, they took no questions.  "How dare you question the conclusions.  These things matter, we're doing investigations and we can't comment on investigations as we're doing them.  Don't you see, don't you hear what I say?"  To this, I flipped him the bird, I was there for answers. The press room was a mess, it was built for mourning, we weren't supposed to be thanking God.  But we mourn anyway, they're shooting at us now.  The fire chief is dead.  Only the lone shooter knows.  And all the others.

  Break out the drones, this guy just won't go down.  Humiliate him, get his money, call him ugly, sic the agents on him, dish out the dirt, pop a cap through him, he's in Milwaukee the next day.  What we have here is a failure to appreciate.  The final 20% of his life is gonna be exhausting, but you never know.  No one knows. The other team just keeps it coming, mush cycle after mush cycle.  The tater tots are getting crispy.  The emotions in that locker room are whacked.  Some are distraught over the unsuccessful assassination, the unsuccessful assassin's family needs support, too.  They say. What's so sad about peace, love, and understanding?  Peace, that feeling of stillness.  Love, that welling up inside.  Understanding, caring a bit less.  The fun has just begun, the rest of your life awaits.

  Eat right, move around, talk to people, get out and about.  Make the rounds, slap some backs, kiss some cheeks, swoon.  Story time is next, you don't have to talk during story time.  Just listen and nod, don't forget your crooked smile, it makes you look human. Here's your cookie. Nothing to notice here, if you haven't noticed by now, no need.  Dignity only matters to a point, then survival and defense take over.  Tired of taking one for the team.  The intellectuals are the dumb now, the suckers know the answers.  Truth is fleeting. The real doctors will eventually get through and a hero is born.  Left disabled by a decayed brain, he will milk the sympathy to its nub.  His family will gather.  After much thought, prayer, and hand wringing, our President will...  Well, anyway.