May has come...

May comes, and fills me with many blessings. So much pain, so many tears, so much blood as a child I had spilt. But so much it's brought. Oh, how winds of May have blown so mightily. Healed, healing, now still, growing, remembering, cheers-ing.

Hallelujah. What more to say. Hallelujah! What was it King David wrote on the sides of some of his Psalms... Selah!

Ah, the joy and merriness to abound in having a drink with him, eh? He knew about the struggles in life, about how important it was to maintain the path of right regardless of how bad you might fuck up. About how you ever strive to walk with God in your life. About how each scar all over your body tells a tale of how He has been there with you. Thirty years of scars and still so much of a tapestry to weave.

Cheers and God's blessings to one and all!

But my buddy the Aztec, well, I miss him dearly. Too long since he's graced us with his presence, though barely over a month ago. He's one of those guys who'll always be there for you no matter any of life's circumstance, even if you usually only see him 5 or 6 times a year. Can't wait to sit on the deck, fire going in the stone pit below us, graced by The Tragically Hip, Pink Floyd, a few specials tunes by the Doors, and every melody we can't wait to indulge and share.

Speaking, laughing, freely, we represent liberty, its brothers-step, walking side by side to our own drummer, though never forsaking each the other.

And yes, as Tiny Tim said vitally, "God bless us everyone!"

With cheers and blessings,
A Countryman



He's one of those guys who'll be there for everything with you, even if you only see hime 5 or 6 times a year.Read more >> Options >>

These days

Keep the faith. Let not your heart be troubled.

Remember the Lord bade Solomon be king to pave the way for David.

See, every tyrant falls.

In the meantime, all we can do ourselves, is "Fight the good fight," as my dearly departed old man used to always say.

Share the light and love the truth.

And enjoy life.

Now I'm going to have my last Underberg, (nice to find them now in our local liquor store), open another beer, and reread the poem Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.