Rod McKuen - Flight Plan


3rd & 4th February, 2005		Rod in “The Best is Yet to Come” 11/6/04 Photo by Shira Greenburg ©2004 by Broadway.com. Used by Permission A Thought for Today We seldom see love as it approaches but oh the heartache when it goes. A FLIGHT FROM6THE PAST 19 NOVEMBER 1998 HOTEL DE L'EUROPE, WINTER : EARLY EVENING Cold. The window open, curtains spread as far apart as they will go. Outside, the sky dominates everything. Because I haven’t closed the window yet, my bed is now so full of moon there’s almost no room left in it for me. What a bed this is. What a wide, soft Dutch bed this old hotel has given me this time to lie in by myself. In a city like Amsterdam if you sleep alone, you do so by choice. But after all the nights, good, bad, indifferent, not different I’d rather stay here empty inside / outside than bed down just to bed down. I have been more alone when someone wrong was here than I have when no one came. Never mind, if I don’t get up to close the window now there’ll be no sleep at all. I will not chase the shadows any more. I’ll draw the curtains tight and sleep. I’ll work. I’ll read. I’ll go to sleep. - from "Moment to Moment," 1973,1975 THE SINGER & THE SONG Yesterday Webmaster Ken chose to profile one of my favorite albums, Pastorale. He ended his column by printing the lyrics to the marvelous song “Fly Me to the North." I wanted to be sure to credit the writer of both the words & music to that unusual song. Fly Me to the North was written by the beautiful and talented singer-songwriter Marian Segal. I liked the song so much that I reprised it to close the album. Those of you who saw my series for the BBC will no doubt remember her as a guest on one of my programs. I’ll try to track down where she is now and let you know what Marian is up to. A great talent, I recorded another of her songs, Mrs. Adams. Speaking of that series, it will finally start coming out on DVD later this year. I’ll keep you posted on the release dates. Sleep warm and keep smiling. RM 1/3/2005 1:46 AM PST Click on the Stanyan House logo to buy Rod McKuen books, CD's and lots more Click on the heart logo to subscribe to the Rod McKuen mailing list Catch Rod McKuen live! Click on the links below for details of concerts and appearances. ROD McKUEN CONCERTS ROD McKUEN APPEARANCES



		Thursday 3 February Kenneth Anger o Shelley Berman o Joey Bishop o Victor Buono o Blythe Danner o Dave Davies o Val Doonican o Morgan Fairchild o Peggy Ann Garner o Horace Greeley o Bob Griese o Nathan Lane o Sidney Lanier o Carol Mann o Melanie o Felix Mendelssohn o Mabel Mercer o James Michener o Bibi Osterwald o Norman Rockwell o Gertrude Stein o Fran Tarkenton o Frankie Vaughn o Johnny “Guitar” Watson Friday 4 February Conrad Bain o Michael Beck o Clint Black o David Brenner o Nigel Bruce o Gary Conway o Alice Cooper o Robert Coote o Oscar De La Hoya o Lisa Eichhorn o Ludwig Erhard o Eddie Foy, Jr. o Pamela Franklin o Betty Friedan o Natalie Imbruglia o Erich Leinsdorf o Charles A. Lindbergh o Ida Lupino o Rosa Parks o Isabel Peron o Jacques Prevert o Dan Quayle o Gary Smith o Lawrence Taylor o Clyde W. Tombaugh o Norman Wisdom

		Love finds beauty in the plainest smile. There are some wars a man should never be afraid to lose. One is the loss that comes from loving, whether in the lightning or the dark. Seek out truth until all avenues have been exhausted.

FOUR DAYS IN WINTER from "Moment To Moment"		Sunday Night I’m living no I’m staying, down the street. We can walk. Monday Afternoon Blinking like an owl in morning I woke up wanting you, for all the Denver days ahead and ever after, for all the Sausalitos past and Boston nights that ended before they had beginnings. Thick throated still and not yet wide awake enough I finally came alive to find you studying me. I wish that I had told you then I wasn’t what you watched, and given time to rearrange my face and frame for you, I’d be closer to the man who picked you up the night before. Nearer to whatever you must have wanted or expected. But seeing you at my breath’s edge filled my head with such a wonder that I could only pray in silence that though your eyes were open you stared at me from sleep. A sleep I wouldn’t dare invade. Tuesday Afternoon A cat came off the higher roof and down below my window, balancing on so thin a rail that even pigeons had not dared that tightrope walk before. A red and yellow cat of some age and some experience sat the afternoon out down below my window - waiting as he must have known I waited. A cat for company until the sunset started then he leisurely climbed back. Tuesday Night I don’t know why we lie here on the floor collecting dust when both of us are well aware that any bed’s more comfortable than carpet over hardwood. What the evening needs is some suggestion. One of us will have to stop being or pretending to be shy. Till boldness catches hold, of you or me or we, use my elbow as a pillow let my body cover you as lightly as it can with this bumpy body blanket. Now we’re eye to eye. Hello. Wednesday I move in close, crouching like a fighter waiting for a chance. An opening. I cannot wait much longer. Give in quietly or go. Are you that wild late blooming plant ? If so you might not wait to tell me for there’s little time within this life and the next one’s nearly spent. Wednesday Night I don’t have to touch you to be touching you nor feel your face to feel your face. Yet sometimes touching you I feel you not at all. There seems to be so much of you at times enough to fill and spill across the room. Other times I stretch in your direction and draw back to me great armfuls of nothing, great handfuls of air. - from "Moment To Moment 1973, 1974, 1975

Webmaster: Ken Blackie o Birthday research by Wade Alexander, coordinated by Melinda Smith
Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Sound & Fury: Dr. Eric Yeager o Editor at Large: Bruce Bellingham

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