Scarecrow's Dream

School was always a tough place for me. I tried to focus but my mind was drawn away from the teacher as I gazed out the window and into the world beyond. I was a dreamer and still am.

Sometimes being a dreamer is a disadvantage to me. Like when meetings take longer than they should or when the book or movie I am watching just isn't grabbing me and pulling me into it's story line. Sometimes I watch TV and spend more time looking at the mole on a guy's nose or a tie that is not straight than the subject matter. I completely tune out the dialog and can't even tell you what was said. It is something I have to work at...to focus.

Sometimes dreaming has helped me. As a songwriter I have no trouble digging deep in my creative mind to find rhymes and interesting word groupings. The trouble is, this dreamland that I live in is not supported by the educational system. Teachers didn't know what to do with the likes of me! I thought I was a failure at school until I realized in college that I was a "global learner." I read an explanation of this phenomena from a Felder and Solomon study out of North Carolina State University and it goes like this:

• Global learners tend to learn in large jumps, absorbing material almost randomly without seeing connections, and then suddenly "getting it."
• Global learners may be able to solve complex problems quickly or put things together in novel ways once they have grasped the big picture, but they may have difficulty explaining how they did it.
• If you are a global learner, it can be helpful for you to realize that you need the big picture of a subject before you can master details. If your instructor plunges directly into new topics without bothering to explain how they relate to what you already know, it can cause problems for you.

Most of my school teachers in the 60's and 70's taught with a visual/ verbal method. Felder and Solomon suggest, "Visual learners remember best what they see--pictures, diagrams, flow charts, time lines, films, and demonstrations. Verbal learners get more out of words--written and spoken explanations." The problem with kids like me was that we needed to connect the dots to the big picture. If I don't know the big picture, you loose me at, "Please turn to page...."

My point is: don't give up on kids like me. Yes, we maybe looking out windows when we should be planting our noses straight ahead, looking and listening to the teacher.

I have always loved the song by Dan Fogelberg from his Netherlands album called Scarecrow's Dream. In the chorus he sings,

"Between the worlds of men and make-believe I can be found."

I thank God for the creative soul that He has given me. I see others like me everywhere. Many of them feel that they aren't as smart as the next person. Our encouragement as parents, friends and teachers can make a big difference. There are songwriters, poets. artist and novelists out there ready to show the world what has been brewing deep inside of their imaginations. Thank God for Walt Disney. He was the biggest dreamer of all. Yes, Dan Fogelberg and I, as well as many dreamers out there, share this in common: between the worlds of men and make-believe I, too, can be found.

Baby Come Back

I am waiting for Brenda to get home from work. It's her last day at a job she took when, Betsy, our youngest, graduated from High School in '06. For the 21 years preceding I had the blessing of a stay-at-home job. Brenda, Josh, Betsy and I were together all the time. As a writer and a musician, most of what I do can be done from my home office. I will never regret the time I spent with my kids when they were young. The dividends are great and I am already reaping the benefits.

Since both the kids flew the coop, and are now on their own, we both work outside of the home. I lead worship at a church in Murfreesboro, TN and my office days, beside the weekend services, are Monday and Tuesday. We used to have at least somebody here at the house throughout the day. But now we lock it up tight, throw a ribeye out to our fierce guard dog in the backyard (just kidding!), and set the alarm (not kidding!).

Its amazing how much the food bill plummets and the water bill shrinks when the kids are gone. The carpet shows less wear and the cleanup before bedtime is as simple as a few dirty dishes- evidence of meals eaten in front of the TV instead of at the table. I do miss the kids but I am very happy that after almost 25 years together Brenda and I can get back to our together time.

So, Brenda comes home tonight with no need to turn back around tomorrow and head north on I-65 for work in Franklin. She is going to help me with my new consulting venture. I am excited that she'll be home again. The great part of her job of the last four years is that she has become very talented in administration. I really don't deserve the level of professional ability she brings to our business; I am blessed to have her as my wife, period!

By the way, she leaves on a mission trip to Guatemala on Saturday and she won't be home for over a week. I will really, really miss her. But she deserves the opportunity to go because she has always wanted to be on the mission field. She will bless those people going on the trip with her and certainly the children in Guatemala . I know that the toughest mission field will be right here when she gets back, helping me in this new adventure called Worship Consultants and Song Schools. Thanks for your prayers! We'll keep you posted...

Ancient of Days sung at Jackie Robinson Celebration

As a songwriter I never know how and when my songs will be used. Gary Sadler and I have seen Ancient of Days on TV shows, in a movie, and now...check this out! Songs make their way into some incredible places. I am proud of this one. Thanks for the head's up, Gary!
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Intercessor Choir Glorifies God at a NY Mets Baseball Game

On Monday, April 19, 2010, the choir of the Cathedral Church of the Intercessor graced a special day of celebration at Citifield, home of the New York Mets baseball team.

April 19 commemorated the special contribution of Jackie Robinson to our nation’s history and spiritual well-being. Jackie Robinson was the first African American man to play major league baseball. Robinson joined the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1945. He faced down threats and insults while establishing a solid record as one of baseball’s most gifted players, and broke the stronghold of racism over American sports. The celebration of Robinson’s life at Citifield on April 19 included an appearance by Robinson’s wife Rachel, head of the Jackie Robinson foundation. The baseball teams (New York Mets vs. Chicago Cubs) were distinguishable only by uniform color: all players on both sides wore Jackie Robinson’s number, 42, on their backs.

At 6:30 p.m. the PA system announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, here to help us celebrate Jackie Robinson Day – the Church of the Intercessor Choir!” The choir launched into a brisk, powerful rendition of Ron Kenoly’s “Ancient of Days,” conducted by Father Joe Ciccarello, head of the Intercessor Music Ministry and Dean of the Cathedral Church of the Intercessor. Choir and band member Paul Ammendola sang the solo part. Modern technology made it possible for the choir not just to be heard, but also seen. As the praises resounded throughout the stadium, the choir appeared on a gigantic screen overlooking center field, their black uniforms with red and white collars crisp and their faces joyful in the sunlight.

“Ancient of Days” concluded and the choir then began a song most fitting for the theme of the day: “We Can Make a Difference,” by Mark Heimermann and David Mullen. Associate Director of Music and Creative Arts Kelly Tanza conducted this one, with solo parts sung by Victoria Perrone. Loud and genuine applause greeted the ending of the song. Their worshipful performance concluded, the music ministry members joined Archbishop Craig Bates, his wife Cathy, and about 100 other Intercessor members to watch the Mets win, 6-1.

Improvisation

I was watching the Ken Burn's documentary called Jazz the other day. In the first segment, Wynton Marsalis talked about musical improvisation. He said, "The whole conception of improvisation is a part of all of American life. If you were a slave, you had to learn how to improvise. You came on the land, you couldn't speak the language, you had all kind of foods and stuff you weren't used to eatin', you have another whole system to deal with. If you can't improvise, you're gonna be in the world of trouble. You're not gonna be able to survive."

I believe that each of us are forced to improvise in this life to one extent or another. Two friends of mine, both physicians, with whom I have the pleasure of meeting for lunch on Tuesday's, are amazed at how I can play a guitar solo. But I am in awe at the fact that they can diagnose an ailment and heal the body of disease. The fact is we are both working from the same place. When you play a guitar solo you are playing notes that are in a certain key. Just as long as you hit the right notes, and play them with some pizazz, you'll be okay. It's based on faith, really. My physician buddies are trained to follow certain paths of inquiry and diagnosis to find what they think is the patient's problem. They improvise by choosing the course that they think will help. There are no guarantees. They are making an educated guess, turning up the volume and strutting to the edge of the stage, medically speaking.

There are times, though, we are called to improvise and we have no idea what to do, where to go or how to even make the first move. This is called walking in faith. I remember a time when I was traveling to a gig with a band and it was mid-winter, in the heart of Illinois. The van decided to die on the side of the road. But as they say in rock and roll, "the show must go on!" I sent the others ahead in the equipment van while I stayed behind to seek help. It only got darker and colder as the hours dragged on. It was below freezing inside the van by then and I knew that if something didn't happen quick, I could become a human Popsicle. The only riff I could pull out of my bag of experience was to pray. I sat there, pleading to God as my breath forced clouds of condensation out toward the frosted rear-view mirror. Just as I was giving up hope, several hours into my snow-filled nightmare, I saw two headlights growing larger and brighter, finally stopping just behind the van. It was a tow truck. Within an hour I had the van first in line inside the bay of an auto repair shop. And I was tucked tightly away in a warm hotel bed. The van would be fixed in the morning and we would be on our way again.

Many times we can do a task with our eyes closed because we have done it so many times before. But then, God hands us an opportunity to trust Him- to completely look to Him for a miracle to appear right before our astonished eyes. Like Wynton Marsalis said in Jazz, I am reminded that, "If you can't improvise, you're gonna be in the world of trouble. You're not gonna be able to survive." So, trust God, do the next thing that you know to do and He will do the rest!

Worship Consultants and Song Schools

I am excited to announce today something that has been brewing in our hearts since last fall. As many of you know I have traveled throughout the country and most of Asia for the last 17 years teaching seminars about worship leading and songwriting. I am also very blessed to lead worship at a large and growing church in the Nashville area.

I have met many people who would like to learn more about songwriting and/or worship leading with a deeper, more personal journey as a student. Some cannot afford to travel to another city to take a one day seminar only to hurry home and cram the information into their already busy lives. Some budgets these days do not allow for extras, and in many professional situations, continuing education.

I want to unveil two new tracks that I am offering through my company, Paths of Peace Music, LLC. They are Worship Consultants and Song Schools. The classes for both tracks will be held from mid-June through early December, 2010.

Both tracks are open to the public but require an application process. The songwriting and worship leading tracks are separate and require separate registration. Each track takes the student through 6 months of intensive learning through being a part of a live, virtual classroom community with me as the main instructor. Each month the student joins the community for an hour teaching. And twice during each month, I have an opportunity to personally interact with each student regarding their questions or projects they are involved with. We will have guests join us periodically, noted professionals who are well known to the christian worship and songwriting communities in America. The beauty of all of this is that you don't even have to leave home to participate and it's available at an affordable cost.

A few of the items discussed in the worship track are:

-Ways to improve your personal performance as a worship leader: singing, playing and performing; creating a flow in worship-How to lead and influence a worship team: vision casting, planning, recruiting, choosing members and spiritual development of the team
-Rehearsal techniques: vocals, band; making the best use of your rehearsal time-Arranging songs that will win in your congregation; what to look for in choosing effective worship songs-A look into multi-venue worship spaces and technical tips for a seamless worship experience-Legal and copyright issues regarding live, recorded and internet usage

And much more...

A few of the items discussed in the songwriting track are:

-Writing for worship and the church-Writing pop music-The art of lyric writing and melody
-Finding the right chords for a melody-Arranging and recording demos; song pitching and copyrights-Co-writing-Income streams in songwriting

And much more!

I will be the main instructor but look for special guests to join us for several of our monthly live, virtual classroom visits.

If you are, or know anyone who would be, interested in this opportunity, please write us at info@worshipconsultants.com for the worship track and info@songschools.com for songwriting. In the subject line write "Tell me more" ask questions and please leave your contact information in the body of the email. We will reply promptly.

I am looking forward to meeting you. Please join us in June!

On the Bus

I have lived several years of my life on vans and buses. Many musicians here in Nashville spend most of their time traveling to play for people. With the exception of musicians in Branson, MO, having to drive hundreds and even thousands of miles to get to the venue where they will set up and play pales to the short time spent on stage. I have had the privilege of playing in every state in the US, including Hawaii, Alaska, and Puerto Rico. My musical travels have also taken me throughout Europe, Asia and the Mediterranean.

When I worked for a company out of Columbus, Ohio, back in 1980-1982, we played overseas for our troops. The USO was a great way to see the world because we got to travel away from the base and come back to the comfort of American food, the Post Exchange, (PX: Wal Mart for the Army), and sleeping accommodations. The music was cool: top 40 set; country set; a Village People YMCA dance off for the officers, etc. The sights were amazing and life-changing: The Forum and Vatican in Rome; the Acropolis and Mars Hill in Athens, Dachau Concentration Camp, Germany; Iceland, Turkey, Spain...

The thing that makes life hard in a traveling circus like a rock band isn't the food (McDonalds and more McDonalds) or the cheap hotels (another blog, altogether), but the people you hang with on the bus. I believe that being a good "bus-hang" on the road can either make or break your marketability as a musician. Complainers saying stuff like, "McDonalds again?" Or, "I'm sorry for holding you guys up here at the hotel, but I had to get my beauty sleep." There is nothing like everyone else waiting for that last guy to get to the bus 10 minutes late for call time- especially when it becomes a habit. Along with being a guitar player, I was the road manager and had to personally deal with these folks.

Some un-written rules of the road are as follows: Honor thy fellow band mates' quiet time for the first hour (maybe more) of the morning; Thou shalt not keep everyone waiting at call time; Thou shalt not do a doo-doo in the bus toilet (pee-pee only!); Thou shalt not escape the responsibility of loading and unloading gear because you wanted to talk to the chicks. And the #1 rule is: Thou shalt be friendly, considerate and unselfish. Sounds like good advice to anyone in a family, work environment or school dorm.

I would trade musicianship for more of rule #1 any day when it comes to hanging out with others in a close environment. Who would want to travel from LA to Miami in 2 1/2 days with a jerk?

Rock and Roll!

On the road somewhere in Turkey, Summer, 1982

My Special Friends

I suppose it is time to share my special friends with you. I have them stashed in a secret place so that when I need them I can unlock the door and put them to work. No, I am not in the midst of a slave-trade ring but I have a studio where I go to create the tracks that I use on my projects and others (a project that I recorded guitars on just won a Dove this week). I am best known as a songwriter and worship leader but few people know that I do a lot of studio work on guitar and sometimes vocals.



First off, my electric guitars are few these days but they do the job well. My Les Paul, Tele, Peavey Signature and Strat are all well represented in the projects I do. I am more of a single-coil, strat/tele, guy but I love me some Les Paul, too. The Peavey Guitar is WONDERFUL! It has that perfect balance between single-coil bite while simultaneously carrying the humbucker robustness and sustain. Don't ever dis Peavey in my presence until you have tried this guitar and the amp I will mention later.



My pedals are all here to see. I have many drive boxes so I can dial in that perfect tone for certain tracks. I use a buffer at the front and George L's all the way through to the amps in another room. I have two other boards that I will mention at another time because those are the ones I travel and play live with.



My amps are the Dr. Z Maz 18 NR 2-10 (right), Dr. Z-Z 28 2-10 (middle) and a Peavey Classic 50 4-10 (left). I like 10" speakers because they seem to produce the tone I need in recording, without the low-mid/ bass honk that usually gets dialed out anyway in the mix...(my story and I'm stickin' to it!)

I will talk about recording gear at another time. In that installment, I will write about my signal paths and the outboard gear I use. Suffice it to say, a .wav is a .wav is a .wav! When you use great cables, pres, mics (and placement), converters, intoned guitars, great amp settings and bone-tone, you will produce .wavs that will stand up and say, "Hello," in any mix. No one ever asks me, "Is that a ProTools or a Digital Performer .wav?" I'll keep you posted...

The Saga Continues...

I want to post an update to my health adventure because so many people have written with concern and encouragement, saying they are praying for me. It has been 5 weeks since I started losing weight, exercising 30 minutes a day and lowering that astronomically high blood pressure. It is much tougher to undo what 50 years of misbehaving hath wrought.

Doesn't it seem like when you hit 40 so many pesky health issues appear on your doorstep? My eyes have always required a strong correction for astigmatism and single-vision lenses were all I needed until now: I get to wear trifocals. Yippee! Even with contact lenses, I tote granny glasses for reading (they disappear into the same vortex where lost socks, guitar picks and Jimmy Hoffa hang out...I swear, they fall into the Bermuda Triangle!). Another thing, for guys of course, is when the prostate flares up. You don't even know you have one until you wake up on the morning of your 40th birthday to use the bathroom about 20 times. Teeth are another issue. Do what mom says: brush and floss regularly. She wasn't bringing an empty threat because teeth will fall out. Duh! The problem now is that the tooth fairy isn't leaving money under your pillow anymore. You pay the dentist thousands of dollars to create a fake pair of teeth that will probably never quite look or fit right.

I can go on and on. My biggest advice is pay attention to your earth suit while you still have one! Our bodies don't last forever and the abuse of them will certainly bring about painful consequences at the least. So, now that I have been scared into reality with regard to my health, my blood pressure has been brought down to the normal range (cudos to Bystolic!). So far I have shed almost 20 pounds and am well on my way to losing 30 more for Josh and Amber's wedding (also my 50th birthday) on July 10th.

God blesses our effort in getting physically and spiritually healthy. I will keep you posted as the saga continues...

The Knee-Jerk Truth

When we are born, our human nature hands us an invisible yard stick. Unfortunately, we spend most of our lives measuring ourselves against others. We compare physical things like hair, body type, facial qualities, etc. We also compare our worth, our talent and abilities. I look back on photos from 30 or 40 years ago and I want to jump into the picture and tell the young Jamie that he's just fine. I have spent way too much time comparing myself to other imperfect, fallible human beings when I should be measuring myself to an Almighty God. It was He who told me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

When I was in college I took the obligatory literature class. I was introduced to many genres of prose and poetry, one of which was classified as knee jerk writing. In this genre the authors use shock to get their point across. The poem that still reverberates in my head and heart is Richard Corey, written by Edwin Arlington Robinson. In it we are introduced to a man who seems to have everything. The onlookers in the poem measure themselves with Mr. Corey and seem to come up lacking in comparison. The shock we discover at the end is that Richard Corey was, in fact, contrary to what we imagined.

Richard Corey

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean-favored and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good Morning!" and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich, yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine -- we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked and waited for the light,
And went without the meat and cursed the bread,
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet in his head.

God gave us this very fragile, short life to live. Let's toss that yard stick and stop propping up our ever-fading pseudo glory. I want to get into the business of spending my life being His wonderful creation and living out my unique calling in His kingdom.

Leisure Fantasy

I am sitting at my desk taking a break from work, cramming down a chicken salad. It seems hard to find even a moment to eat. I am in the midst of a lot of activity regarding my church. I do some arranging for our weekend services along with being a worship leader and guitarist. This coming month of Sundays seem to be especially active. As I look at the immense stack of to-do items, I am perplexed.

I believe in creating margin or boundaries in my life. That is, learning to say NO! When I get stressed, I yell," NO MORE!" The trouble is for the past several weeks I have been asking God to involve me in a greater way with what He is doing in His Kingdom . It has taken 30 plus years of walking with the Lord to come to the point where I simply ask, "What are You doing in the earth and how can I be a part of it, Lord?" So why do I feel stressed?

I am always dreaming about my day off. I leap over the tasks I have before me to get to the "down time". I call this my leisure fantasy. The problem is, the fantasy never pans out like I dream. I am just as disappointed when it comes to aquiring things. Dreaming about that new guitar is more fun. Finally getting it becomes sort of a let down after a while.

I can accept being "busy" doing God's work. I am blessed to have the opportunities ; to work on a great staff and lead so many people in worship on a regular basis. My prayer is, "Lord, help me discern what Your work for me is and give me wisdom to say no to the imposters." Even so, I am looking forward to my day off tomorrow.

Time Machine

Last week I wrote a few different blogs about food, music and scents. Well, that pretty much wraps it up for me...sort of. Mostly, the point I was trying to make was how those three things have the ability to trigger even the most remote memory in our brains.

I distincty remember standing in front of a hamburger stand near my home and hearing the Beatles, specifically Paul McCartney, sing "Michelle" on the AM radio. That was probably early 1966. It all comes back to me when I hear that song.

My family took a camping trip in the early 70's to Big Bear where I first heard "Caught In A Trap" by Elvis. This was at a time when my older brother, Rob, was going through some rough times. When I hear that song today, I am transported to a time when I felt insecure in my own home because my brother was reeking so much havoc on our lives through his erratic behavior. It is incredible just how much our auditory sense influences our thoughts, feelings and actions.

I saw a piece on TV a while back where Alzheimer patients were able to be reached in the deep recesses of their minds through song. When the therapist would sing a song from their era, the patient would then begin to sing along as if they were sent back to their youth in a time machine. These were patients with a severe case of Alzheimer disease that otherwise could not be reached.

I was driving yesterday past an intersection near my dad's neighborhood when out of my mind came a memory from the early eighties where I was listening to "Karma Chameleon" on the radio. I am not a fan of Boy George but man, I had no control over my mind's decision to pop that little ditty into my head.

I am so grateful that I became a songwriter. I have always believed that art can, through any given medium, convey the complexities of emotion and thought. I can write a song that feels like summer (windows down, fun in the sun) and hope that that feeling is interpreted by the listener.

Music is so very important to me and for that matter, humanity. I just would rather have my memory uncover "Michelle" rather than "Karma Chameleon". I guess I have no choice.

Snapshot

Brenda and I are going to see my dad this weekend. He lives in the beautiful foothills of western North Carolina. It was twenty nine years ago at Easter that I was introduced to its lovely land and it's people.

My brother, Jon, and I were in a rock band traveling all over the US back in 1981. The keyboard player, Terry Hyder, lived in a small community called Bostic, near Forest City, NC. The Easter holiday created a few days where we didn't have any bookings. So Terry invited us to come down and stay there with his family. I was impressed by the deep rust-orange color of the dirt (something I never saw in the sandy soil of my southern California home). The trees were in bloom and the beautiful, purple hues of the Mountain Laurel peeked out between the fresh, green leaves. The air was cool enough to wear a light jacket and the sky was deep blue.

I immediately made a mental snapshot in my mind of that place in time. My dad was thinking about retiring and moving out of state in a year or so and this place seemed to be too special not to mention it to them for consideration. For my parents, moving away from Fullerton was a challenge. But all the way to North Carolina seemed to me to be far fetched. I was surprised to find my parents willing to check it out. They made a trip across the country and fell in love with Forest City. They moved there soon after my dad retired in 1981. They sold their home and moved their lives into a beautiful, brick, two level-house, nestled amongst tall hardwoods and pine trees, with a small stream out back.

Between travels I would stay there with them for days at a time. I was able to befriend many folks there and the friendships exist to this day. I eventually left the road to marry Brenda and raise our kids in Mobile, Alabama. On April 19, 1997, we received the call that would bring us back to Forest City, this time to live there. My mom had passed away. I felt I needed to be near my dad, mostly for my need to grieve with him. We moved our family there the following July. So many things transpired during our nearly four years in the community. We even helped start a new church that is still thriving called Cornerstone Fellowship.

Now, we have been in Spring Hill, Tennessee for almost nine years. I always dreamed that Nashville would some day be my home. I am more apt to stay put these days. But when the mornings are cool and the sky is blue with the new buds pushing their way out toward the sun, I think of the foothills of western North Carolina and remember that snapshot in my memory.

Songs

I am headed out this morning to teach a songwriting class for the Music City School of Music Business and The Arts. I really love teaching. especially when I see the light bulb appear on the top of the student's head when the concept is understood.

I have been writing songs since I was a child. I learned about songs from the greatest teachers. My dad always had Sinatra, Tommy Dorsey, Glen Miller, and other great artists on the stereo. Many of the great songs of that era were gathered from Tin Pan Alley. Tin Pan Alley was a real alley on East Fourteenth Street near Third in New York City. There were so many pianos clanking out songs there that, for all the noise and commotion, it was given the name, "Tin Pan." The publishers would go out to establishments where the crooners were. They would go to nightclubs, the back doors of Broadway theaters, etc., and push their songs to any artist who would hear them. Thus began the art of song plugging.

Like the Tin Pan Alley publishers of the early to mid Twentieth Century, we songwriters today have to be very persistent when it comes to getting our songs heard. Very few opportunities materialize outside of simply being bold and promoting our songs to get a place on an upcoming project.

I am thankful for those who took a chance, stopped, and listened to my songs. I have to thank Gerrit Gustafson, especially, for taking Ancient of Days to Integrity Music. Because he believed in the song as well as Gary and me as writers, I am forever grateful.

This morning I will do my best to convey my process of writing a song. I think that you either have the gift or you don't. Some people try all of their lives to write a song that will be recorded. I am afraid that 99% of even good writers will ever hear their song on the radio. Even so, I say keep writing, pitching, and believing in your songs. You never know, someone might be listening. You just have to write and keep writing. There is no such thing as luck. Dreams come true after you have prayed, prepared, practiced and are in the right place at the right time.

Country Music

I was born in southern California and love country music. It may seem like a contradiction. I loved it way back in the late 60's to this very moment. When I was a wee lad, I listened to K-FOX on my little AM radio that my aunt and uncle gave me for Christmas. I remember loving the twangy guitar that always accompanied Buck Owens songs.

In my teens I was turned on to west coast country through listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. I loved the steel guitar so much (I believe it is like the Hammond organ of country music). My mom would tell me of the times she listened to the Opry growing up in Clarksville, TN and I would imagine visiting one day. I love Emmylou Harris. She put out a bluegrass record called Roses In the Snow where I heard Ricky Skaggs for the first time. Linda Ronstadt also pointed me in the right direction as her mid-70's records were full of hard-core, country songs.

I have never loved country for the fast licks and the fancy picking. I love it because its honest. I am mostly attracted to the traditional side. People like Ricky, Emmylou, Dwight Yoakam, Patty Loveless and Vince Gill. I like some new stuff but my heart is in the songs that came out of the "hollers", where the ache is always on the surface. Probably it's the harmonies that draw me to the music. I can see that all of the music I love has great harmonies.

Now that I live in greater Nashville, I am blessed to make my home in the most beautiful place on earth. Sorry, California, I am a Tennessean now. Really, I am only one generation removed from a deep connection to middle Tennessee on both sides of my family for hundreds of years. That little AM radio dusted it all off. It must have awakened in me an interest to discover my southern roots. Still, I'm smitten with the twang, the harmonies and the ache.

Scents of Summer

As I was passing through the backyard on my second grass cutting of the season, Brenda asked, "Have you smelled the blossoms on the apple tree yet?" It smelled wonderful and reminded me of the scents that came out in the spring and summer of my childhood years in Fullerton, California.

The most poignant memory is that of Coppertone suntan lotion mixed with salt air. My dad took us to the beach often in the summer. I am so blessed to have been brought up in the land of the surfer. Much of that reputation is a myth which persuaded many families to move west in search of a "better" life. I remember the beach bums would stay all day, go home for a shower and a meal, and return for the evening, sitting around an open fire pit on the beach. Nobody stayed inside in those days!

Another memory is that of the Night Blooming Jasmine outside my bedroom window. Because southern California is so mild, we never had an air conditioner in the house until my dad installed a window unit in the den when I was in high school. I would wind the window over the bed out about four inches and let the cool, sweet smell of Jasmine waft through the screen while I slept.

I went to elementary school right next to Hunt Foods. On warm days the smell of ketchup being cooked and processed permeated our town. What a treat...and it was free!

Another smell is one that has gotten me in trouble over the years. I now have to ignore it because the scent lures me into it's deadly, greasy grasp and I fall victim to it's pleasures. That is the wonderful smell of McDonald's (aren't you impressed with my opulent taste!) . One of the first restaurants from the company's 1960's super expansion was planted just a few minutes walk from my home. Classes from my school would visit each year to peer behind the counter into the mysterious world beyond. I love the smell of hamburgers and fries as they sizzle and fry because whenever we went to Disneyland or Knott's Berry Farm, the smell of fast food was intoxicating. I will have to admit that, to this day, I love to travel because I get to go out to eat a lot. I guess, because we didn't eat out very often as a family, for economic reasons, restaurant food brings a feeling of luxury and security (bad combo for a food-addict!).

Another scent that brings joy is the smell of fresh-cut grass. I really do enjoy cutting the lawn along with bringing the finishing touch of edging. That was my job around the house as a kid. My dad always showed his appreciation afterward by handing me a Snickers and a Coke (another harmful combo: snacks used as praise!) I do complain at times before I do it but deep inside it brings a satisfaction that is difficult to explain. It was 13 years ago on April 19th while getting my lawn mower fixed up for the season when I got the news that my mother died.

My memories take me back to when my mother, young and beautiful, would shoo us out of the house to play in the yard or at a friend's house. How I long to return there at times. Sometimes the quickest mode of transportation back in time is when a scent of summer takes us there.

Smell those burgers a fryin'! The Fosters Freeze in Hawthorne, CA where the Beach Boys hung out and the song "Fun, Fun, Fun" (...daddy took the T-bird away...) was inspired (that's my brother, Jon, making an order at the window).

Points

Isn't it true that youth is wasted on the young? I know it sounds harsh but I believe it. I look back to the days when I was on the road with rock bands in my early twenties. I would consume a Big Mac, a cheeseburger, fries and a gigantic, sugar-filled Coke for lunch and the same for dinner almost every day (no one except moms drank diet sodas back in those days). Then, before we'd bunk up in the van for a long "over-niter", we would pile into the 7 Eleven for snacks to eat as we fell asleep sitting up. It never crossed our minds to brush our teeth until "maybe" in the morning when we all stumbled out of the rolling sardine can to shower in a cheap motel.

Holy-moly, the abuse that I hurled at my own body! The lack of sleep; poor attention to all things dental; severe sunburn; trashing my back lifting heavy amps and road cases; playing loud guitar next to a deafening drummer every day in concert. These things all added up to a huge dilemma that started to creep into my life right around my forties.

Now about points. Life is kind of like Weight Watchers. We have been given a certain budget of points in life to spend on our health, relationships, careers, etc. When we spend them all in one era of our lives, at some point in later life we become suddenly aware, for survival sake, to stop the destruction before death knocks us out of the ring. Simply said, if we live in moderation throughout our lives we can afford to enjoy much more all the way to the end of our lives. My mom's mother lived to be almost 100 years old. Brenda reminded me last night at dinner that Grandma Ree lived a very moderate life-style all the way through.

The following glaringly obvious statement sounds like a manta of my mother as I grew up: if I would just take care of myself incrementally as I go along in life (keep weight off, exercise, take good care of my teeth, etc.) I would be able to enjoy life in a much greater way . Make no mistake about me, I am a life-lover and I still take chances (I can hear Pee Wee Herman in the Big Adventure right about now saying, "You don't wanna get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel"). But my advice to the young is, don't spend all of your points in one place. Take your time; enjoy the view. There is a wonderful adventure to be lived out there.

River of Freedom

I had a great day singing in the studio yesterday. Gary Sadler and I are recording a new project that has been in the making for several years. We wrote Ancient of Days together back in 1991 and really didn't co-write much after that. The song continues to be the most recognized and profitable of any other song we have written together or apart.

When Brenda and I moved to the Nashville area in 2001, Gary and I started meeting on Wednesdays to write. We wrote several songs and even started a project but it was postponed. I took a position as a worship leader in 2004 at World Outreach Church in Murfreesboro where I am to this day. My responsibilities there as well many other factors caused our writing sessions to stop for quite a while. Deep within my soul, and as a necessity for my creative temperament, I needed those writing sessions back in my life more than ever. The warmth and friendship that exists between us is certainly a primary reason for getting together. Last year in '09 we started our weekly get-together again, this time on Thursdays.

We pulled out some of those old songs that had been sitting for years, wrote some new ones, and decided on the nine songs we are recording now. The one we were working on yesterday is called River of Freedom. In it we talk about the state of America and its need to turn back to God. It has a black gospel feel but has kind of a "Walking in Memphis" vibe. We brought in my dear friends Todd Suttles and Danielle Cruz along with a new friend, Shirley Settles, to sing. The song sprang to life. We still need to record some horns then get it mixed so we can give everyone an early taste of the new record. We are praying that the other songs in the batch turn out as well. I am confident that they will.

Gary and I hope to have the record out by summer, 2010. Please be on the look out for Sadler/Harvill!

When Going Down Is Looking Up

I went to the doctor yesterday morning for some more blood work. This time it was for cholesterol. When those folks take (and I really mean yank) blood from your arm, they are ruthless. The first thing the nurse said while hunting (no...digging) for a vein was that men are the first to faint when a needle appears. At just that moment I felt a bead of sweat appear on my newly un-mustached upper lip. I don't mind seeing another persons blood being sucked up a tube and into a vile. Just don't let me witness my own blood letting. I must have looked like my late dog, Pepper, when we gave him his bath. He always had this nervous, ready-to-leap look on his face as if to say, "Are you done with this foolishness yet?"

I am ready to deal with the results of the blood test as I was when my high blood pressure problem became evident. I was excited to jump on the scales yesterday to see how my new svelte-ness was progressing. I have been kicking up my exercise program to an Olympic trainer level (at least that's what I imagine when I'm on the treadmill). I have completely restructured my diet and have become an avid food box looker (closely akin to a mailbox watcher...see yesterday's blog). I am absolutely blown away at the amount of crap we blindly shove into our mouths a hundred times a day. My biggest surprise was the amount of sodium that most of us disregard in our diet. I have become a calorie, fat, carb and sodium policeman. I have all but contained my diet to a glass of water each day (just kidding...I still eat, just stretched out over more meals and with less portions). I have arrested and thrown into jail many of the foods I once consumed. Maybe one day those troubled foods can be put on parole only to see an occasional visit from me. But until I get a handle on this beast, I will stick to my current regime and will remain on probation.

By the way, I lost 12 pounds in the past three weeks and my blood pressure has returned from death/death to NORMAL! Thanks to the Bystolic and the life style changes mentioned above...I will keep you posted.

Geetars, Magazines and Mailbox Money

Funny thing about songwriters: once you get your first song published you learn the art of mailbox watching. Right around the time each quarter that the royalty checks are cut from the different publishing and record companies, we are all keeping a rigid eye on our mailboxes. We writers gather to street's edge like goldfish in a pond at the sight of the feeding bucket. We don't waste time chatting with the postman as he is just a mere delivery object. We nervously rip open the envelope, throwing the cover letter in the air on our way to the money (why do they put cover letters in royalty statements?...the only ones who read them are the assistants who type them!). Many times I am surprised when the amount is greater than expected. Most of the time it is lower and lower until I can get another cut to again fill the coffers.

I also watch the mailbox for my two monthly magazines: Vintage Guitar and Premier Guitar. These mags are outstanding. They offer really cool features with artists that I enjoy. Not the "flavor of the month" guys who are here today and delivering my pizza tomorrow. I love the vintage stuff but am happy to get shiny, new stuff even more. The funny thing is, the Beatles, Stones, Hendrix, etc., probably used fairly new stuff when they recorded their hits. Even so, we geetar pickers are so into our "vintage" stuff. I still believe that the tone is in the fingers and the heart.

So, If you see me waiting nervously at my mailbox for more than a few minutes, know that I am waiting for my mailbox money or a magazine. Just pray that I don't rip the hand off that poor postman!

Easter Surprise

Yesterday was Easter. I had the usual responsibilities to fulfill as I am on a church staff which hosts a large Easter celebration each year. We saw approximately 25,000 people over two services. Brenda made preparations to have the Sunday meal mostly ready on Saturday. Thanks to my brother, Jon, and his wife, Beth, who chose to attend the Saturday evening Easter service at our church. They had the meal ready when we returned home Sunday afternoon. But this was not going to be a normal Easter meal this year.

My daughter, Betsy, and her husband, Adam, were there all the way from Memphis. Josh's girlfriend, Amber and family, were there too. When I asked Josh to say the blessing, he got down on one knee and proposed. She said yes! Josh had it all planned this way. Amber was the only one who didn't have a clue this was going to happen.

So, this summer, we will see our son receive Amber as his wife. It was only last July that Betsy and Adam were married. We are so blessed to have both Adam and Amber as a part of our family. We love them very much. Brenda and I are seeing life go by at a blinding speed. It seems like yesterday that we, two skinny kids, were married in Mobile, Alabama. We will celebrate 25 years of marriage in December.

Life is full of surprises...but we signed up for this back in 1985! We wanted kids right away. We wanted them to grow up and stand on their two feet. We are happy to see them invest their lives in their own homes and relationships. The greatest compliment would be that they enjoy the same blessings we know.

This Easter was the greatest! Congratulations Josh and Amber!

Got it, Flaunt it!

As you can gather by now, I am in the midst of change. Yesterday, as I was showering, I said to myself, "Self, you need to shave off your mustache and goatee today." I revved up my Norelco and uncovered a stranger hiding underneath. The first thing I saw was my brother, Jon, who, although being younger and taller, there in my bathroom mirror. I haven't seen my face in probably twenty years. I went to Easter rehearsal last night and treasured the reactions of my worship team mates. Hiding in plain sight is something most of us do. Many are unaware.

Jack Nicholson and rock stars hide behind sunglasses. Some of us hide behind black-colored clothes, thinking that black will disguise the fact that they are wearing a 4X sized t-shirt. Come on, man, we all know the truth! Some hide behind big homes and cars. Some are hiding insecurity behind gruff, business-like behavior. I like the guy who, even though imperfect, lets everyone in on his painted, full-figured physique at the football game.

Today, as I go out into the world clean-shaven, I will be showing all of the rosy colored truth: I am my age and I'm cool with it. I have a long way to go... Any way, "If you've got it, flaunt it," my Dad would say!

Superman in a Straight Jacket

Brenda and I have known for some time that a new wind is blowing through our lives. The children have left home. They are finding their way in life with the spouse and soon-to-be spouse that God has given them. We have been (and it seems so sudden) given the opportunity to focus on being a couple again. God has also given us some exciting new trails to blaze. But on any new trail there is a highway man waiting at every turn to rob us: fear.

It seems that during much of our almost 25 years of marriage we have pushed out in faith as God directed. I remember one time in 1990 I received a clear directive from the Lord to quit my job and move into a music ministry (I can feel you cringe about now!). I knew that it involved writing songs and sharing them in concert. Believe me, that directive didn't go over well considering that I had just finished college at 30 and had two, small children at home with Brenda giving them full-time care. I didn't know how God was going to "pull it off." We were trusting that somehow God would supply for us each day.

In 1985, five years previous, Integrity Music opened its doors in Mobile, Alabama, just a few miles from where we lived. In the summer of 1991 I was invited to share some of my songs with Integrity as a member of their creative staff went to the church that we were attending. Gary Sadler and I wrote a little ditty called Ancient of Days. They asked to put it on a new project they were producing. Integrity Music at that time was flying under the radar as far as Nashville was concerned. This little company was putting out worship music, not artist oriented songs that populated the airwaves at the time. Integrity Music and Mobile were insignificant. Brenda and I were invisible and certainly felt like every step forward might send us tumbling over a cliff! Regardless, we kept walking toward God's voice.

Twenty years later, we have seen God do everything He promised and much more. Now I sit here at my MacBook and feel the same trepidation as I hear God calling in a big way again. I have much more security now with everything that I have ever dreamed a professional music man might attain. It is time to tweak my God walk again. No excused. Yes, fear is screaming at me like a rogue basketball coach on the sidelines. I have an opportunity to do some exciting things in the Kingdom with my bride. Jesus calmly says, "come follow Me." I have the opportunity to allow God to intimately show me the steps to take in faith. For the past several years I have allowed Superman to be bound up in a straight jacket. I now pronounce God free to create new adventures in our lives. I have butterflies in my stomach but I am excited to see the results...I will keep you posted!

Dissatisfied

Dissatisfaction is a tough egg to scramble. On one hand it can lead you out of the doldrums and into a promising path. On the other hand it can lead you into dubious and destructive adventures. Advertisers use dissatisfaction to coax us into buying their products. In the case of my recent run-in with my health, it lead me to make an important life choice.

I had a bad neck ache that wouldn't leave me alone several weeks ago. I tried to Advil it to death but it kept getting worse. I finally went to the clinic. My neck ache problem soon jumped into the back seat when the nurse took my blood pressure. The contorted expression on her face wasn't a bit veiled as my numbers were in the skull and cross bones range. At 49 I have become a member of the high blood pressure fraternity. When did this little health burglar break into my body and start ripping off one of the most valuable assets of life? The alarm went off and I was roused from my slumber.

I have been sleeping in regard to many things in my life for several years. Mama birds pull the fur lining of the comfortable nest away so the prickly sticks are exposed. This way the discomfort forces the baby eagles to move away from their comfy home. I am feeling the same kind of nudge and I think it is God telling me to wake up and fly. My health, my career, my relationship with God, family and friends all deserve my full, robust attention. I pray that my wake up call and all the dissatisfaction will lead me away from the deadly ways of yesterday. 50 is breathing down my neck telling me to fly. Look out, here I come!