Wednesday 17th November, 2004
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A Thought for Today
Railroad trains are like a train of
thought, not easily set out of mind.

This
One Does It For Me!
If you're anything like me you probably like to have some sound
accompanying you while you work on a computer. Sometimes it's the radio,
sometimes an album, sometimes a selection from your MP3 collection. In
my case, more often than not it's something McKuen.
This does, however, present some problems. To me Rod performing his own
work is not background music. As a performer he demands attention and I
find myself concentrating way too much on the music and lyrics and not
nearly enough on the task at hand. Naturally this plays havoc with my
productivity, to the extent that I've had to implement a Plan B.
How to have the comfort of those well loved melodies and still be able
to concentrate? The solution is, quite simply, instrumental versions of
his work.
I'm fortunate to have in my collection a 3 CD set called "Beautiful
Music to Love By." Populated primarily though not exclusively with
McKuen songs they'll provide enough play time to keep you chained to
your computer or CD player for hours.
My personal favorite is "Beautiful Music To Make Your Plants Grow" which
contains some interesting renditions of a number of popular McKuen
songs. Ah, but does it work, I hear you ask? It's a known fact in our
home that shortly after I first received this album the ferns in my
study embarked on a growth spurt the likes of which had never been seen
by our head gardener, Priscilla. Read what you will into that one!
My most recent favorite, courtesy of Eric Yeager who was kind enough the
send me a copy, is a collection of McKuen music by the Stanyan Strings.
I'm told the original release comprised of two vinyl albums and they
contain enough McKuen melodies to satisfy the most discerning fan.
Just about all the top tunes are there - "I'll Catch the Sun," "Love's
Been Good to Me," "Listen to the Warm" etc. Also included are a number
of personal faves such as "The Art of Catching Trains," "So Long, San
Francisco," "Something for R.J." and a wonderful version of "Boat Ride."
Both of the above would make terrific Christmas gifts, either for
yourself or a loved one. The last time I did a quick search of Stanyan
House I didn't see either of the above compilations listed but you never
know what Billy can salvage from the warehouse so why not drop him a
line before you start your eBay search? You can contact him at
billyiz@stanyanhouse.com
Want the words to a favorite
McKuen song or poem? Got a Rod McKuen story to relate or a question to
ask? Wednesday is the day we deal with things like this so please drop
me a line at kenb@mckuen.com and
I'll do my best to provide an answer just as soon as I can.
- Ken, Johannesburg,
South Africa, November 17
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ROD McKUEN
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ROD
McKUEN APPEARANCES
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Mischa Auer o
Peter Cook o
Danny DeVito o
Daisy Fuentes o
Rock Hudson o
Lauren Hutton o
Hershey Kay o
Gordon Lightfoot o
Sir. Charles MacKerras o
Dean Paul Martin o
Bob Mathias o
Lorne Michaels o
Myra Montezuma o
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RuPaul o
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Part of the country not to be recovered moves off when cars are
disconnected, left at sidings and forgotten.
-from "This About Trains"

Trains aren't just transportation, they are
memory triggers.

I'm a Railroad Man not by thought but by
design. An engineer between my ears with freight trains on my mind.
-from "Railroad Man" by Johnny Cash & Rod
McKuen

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THE ART OF CATCHING TRAINS |
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1.
I came through the clothesline maze
of childhood
in basketball shoes.
Up from the cracked cement of sidewalks.
Long hair blowing in the breeze
from barber-college haircuts.
I moved into the country
knowing love better than long division.
Tricking out with women twice my age
we acted out our own French postcards.
Dr. Jekyll in the schoolyard,
Mr. Hyde behind the barn.
After school the trains,
their whistles known by heart.
Pennies flattened on a rail
and dresser drawers with matchbooks
from every northern town -
thrown by unknown travelers
who never waved back.
I knew the U.P. right of way so well
that gandy dancers called me tow-head
till they learned my name
and engineers would sometimes whistle
down the scale
on seeing my arm raised.
Baseball's just a sissy game
to anyone who's waved at passing trains.
You learn from hobos
the art of catching trains.
Locomotives slow at trestles
and whistle-stops
to hook the mail.
Diving through an open box car
you lie there till your breath comes back.
Then standing in the doorway you're the king
as crowns of hills and towns go by
and nighttime eats the summer up
and spits the stars across the sky.
How did I come to know
so many lonesome cities
with only pennies in my pockets ?
I smiled a lot
and rode a lot of trains
and got to know conductors
and railroad bulls by name.
From Alamo to Naples is a ride
that took me nearly twenty years.
But here I am,
my cardboard suitcase traded in for leather.
2.
Now a traveler
under the gray-black winter sky
moving down the mountain by torchlight,
I've come to find
a gathering of eagles.
Not for the sake of mingling
with the great birds,
but only to justify
a thousand streets walked end to end.
Ten thousand evenings spent listening
to the small sounds of the night
in station after station.
Not every town in Switzerland
has a golden Gondelbahn,
but there are other ways
to climb the hills
and reach the lonesome cities
of the world.
Riding friendly bodies
you can inch your way to Heaven
let alone the far side of the room
and who'd deny that brushing elbows
in certain streets
has not produced for every man
at least one vision of Atlantis.
For me old habits don't break easily
I wait for trains.
Sometimes I feel I've always been
just passing through.
On my way away, or toward.
Shouting alleluias at an unseen choir
or whispering Fado's down beneath my breath
waiting for an echo
not an answer.
Everybody has the answers
or they'll make them up
for you.
Just once I'd like to hear
a brand-new question.
What about the trains you ride
do they go fast or slow
would I recognize your face
clacking past the poplar trees
if I were stationed on some hill ?
If I did I'd know you
by the look of nothing in your eyes,
the kindred look that travelers have,
the one that says a tentative hello.
If while riding down the rails
you see a boy in overalls
along the railroad right of way,
wave as you go by.
Signal with a frown
you too are going down
that same road.
Small boys need encouragement
the freight trains in their minds
will only take them just so far.
Be kind
for small boys need to grow.
- from the book & album "Lonesome Cities," 1967 |
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