John Paul Drum, (KC bluesman of note), David Basse, (KC’s jazz ambassador), the KC Graffiti guy, owner of Prospero’s Books, Corbin the sculptor, Tim Hamill, (storyteller, bon vivant), Dick Jobe, (KC’s most creative metal shopmeister), Roz Morris, (author, ghostwriter), Jeff Bremser, (KC legend adman), Wick Beavers, (NYC photographer/musician), Lois Lambert gallerist (CA), Nate Hofer (KC artist, musician), Skip Quimby, (KC legend adguy), Dick Hackenberg (San Francisco marketing consultant who saved my bacon out in L.A.), George Lois, (Legendary creative legend x 12, Einstein class), Pat Metheny, (Jazz fusion) and on and on.

 There would be no shortage of people to ask, perhaps you? Steve? Recently voted Best IT guy in the midwest? Beth, swimming with sharks, Connee’s punk adventures, Cindy’s Stagecoach Inn days. But there might be a deficit of those accepting. The initial days of a podcast could be a bit…rocky. But I’m kind of stuck in place and antsy to do something, and a short podcast (7 minutes) seems inviting. Intro, talk talk talk outro. Oversimplification, of course.

 Just a thought. Would you be interested in listening, or being a guest? Everyone has great stories. Leave a comment if it bubbles your curiosity.

Or make paper airplanes instead.

Here’s a bit of a shudder. The walking and walker--wounded home that I just escaped from had a bronze sculpture out front; Gary Price’s kid surfing on a paper airplane. It’s an edition of the same bronze sculpture we have at Wise Acres. (link) Hopefully it means freedom of a sort that I’m working toward: ambulatory independence. Or a darker turn of thought could put the kid surfer in a Citizen Kane’s youth-recalling “Rosebud” sled category. (link) Then, I’m no Citizen Kane, not even close. (But was he happy? Heck yeah; he could buy and sell most of California! That would make me happy.) (I‘d selI. And throw in Kansas with their sudden money-grubbing higher property tax boondoggle.)

 Anyway, I say huzzah (I can say that; I’m a writer) to paper airplanes and the freedom of mind and spirit they exemplify. And here’s a whole Smithsonian collection of them! (link) (wow—author note).

Music to watch eclipses by…(link)

 Brad Mehldau’s “Highway Rider,” (Nonesuch Music) the aligned spheres, and maybe a Diet Coke. Phenomenal. Cosmic. Oh, and a poem I wrote a couple of books ago to commemorate just such an eclipse at Wise Acres that some horses and I observed. It was a much anticipated occasion and I was ready with official eye protection that Freddie had gotten me.

I will say it was a sobering and quietly awesome few minutes that Annie Dillard describes as “The sky was navy blue. My hands were silver. All the distant hills’ grasses were fine-spun metal which the wind laid down. I was watching a faded color print of a movie filmed in the Middle Ages; I was standing in it, by some mistake. I was standing in a movie of hillside grasses filmed in the Middle Ages. I missed my own century, the people I knew, and the real light of day.”

So, yes, if you’re near the path of such a sun/moon line-up, go to it, observe, remember, be a pilgrim for a short duration, drop all pretense of whatever we humans cloak ourselves in and just soak it up. It’s an odd sort of joy worth experiencing—a bit different for everyone I would think. I probably wouldn’t drive 500 miles and make motel reservations in some far off burg for it, but many have.

OK, I’m about done for now.

But before I go, here’s a short introduction by Tigran Hamasyan to Nonesuch records, (link) jazz and classical label worth glomming onto as they battle the big brands groove for groove, to keep beauty front and center. You won’t go wrong with Nonesuch, true lovers and purveyors of fine music. Have a great day, week, eclipse, listen, whatever you’re up to. xoxo G

(PS: for those of you who have asked. Phys and occu therapy say I’ll be going from walker to cane soon—then from cane to…walking. Yayyy. I got stuff to do yet.)