26th & 27th October, 2006

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Details of Rod at The Luckman in November - click here

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Edward Habib McKuen. ©2006 by Stanyan Audio Video Archives

A Thought for Today

The only enemy I bother to do battle with is noise.

 

FROM the¨BOOKS

OF SONGS AND CITIES

I lived beyond the reach
of my own self sometimes,
             outside of me.
Beyond the days
that chased me
down the summer beach.
Closer to the night
but not a part of it.
I am moved by others
and the schedules
that they've set for me
rather than my own watch.
That's all right.
I have always been a driven man.
The difference now
is that more often I'm a passenger,
instead of he who turns the wheel
                    and drives.

My battered sneakers
have carried me down streets
I may never walk again,
through towns I can't remember.
I've kicked them under beds
                       in musty rooms
and worn them on the gravel
of a castle courtyard turn-around.

Coming off a stage one day
I heard a lady whisper to her friend:
He's making money now,
surely he can afford a better kind of shoe.

Ah, but that's the thing -
money's earned for comfort's sake.
I'm comfortable in old things
with so much newness
working through my life.

I'm asked for wisdom sometimes, too.
Whatever the message that I have 
to give is woven in the texture 
of my poems and my songs -
        plain though they may be.
When all the schedules
have been met
and I'm alone again
new songs and parts of those
who've grown
and gone off
on their own
come rushing in;
demanding to be held
or asking if they
might be lent or given.

What I do
and give away
I do with love
there isn't any other way,
or if there was
I wouldn't use it.
Believe that,
for the only lies
I tell these days
are those I tell
about myself.

- From "Love's Been Good To Me," 1978

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notable birthdays

Thursday 26 October
National Day (Australia)

Charlie Barnet o Primo Carnera o Hillary Rodham Clinton o Jackie Coogan o Cary Elwes o Chuck Foreman (football) o Diane Hoffman o Bob Hoskins o Mahalia Jackson o T.C. Jones o Margaret Leighton o Dylan McDermott o Pat Sajak o Domenico Scarlatti o Shah of Iran o Jaclyn Smith o Lauren Tewes

Friday 27 October

Larry Baillie o Jack Carson o John Cleese o Fred DeCordova o Kathy Cornelius o Floyd Cramer o Ruby Dee o Nanette Fabray o Peter Firth o Wayne Fontana o Lee Greenwood o H.R. Haldeman o Jayne Kennedy o Cleo Laine o Simon LeBon o Fran Lebowitz o Roy Lichtenstein o Marla Maples o Margaret Naylor o Kelly Osbourne o Sylvia Plath o Emily Post o Theodore Roosevelt o Lyle Rote o Carrie Snodgress o Dylan Thomas o Ted Wass o Scott Weiland o Robert White o Teresa Wright

Rod's random thoughts Clouds are the food of let's pretend.

Better to uncover a soul than a continent.

Ambition is the talent that takes us to the top the fastest.

THE TIME COMES

Finally the time comes. Irrevocably. Never
the same way twice. And the going isn't easy.

Each tries to make the other think the blame 
Belongs exclusively to him. And so it does.

I hardly even tried, I'm past the point of that.
How could I presume to finalize
what maybe never should have been..

I started in not knowing who I am. When was it, 
           never mind. I dwell too much on me.

Still now we don't know one the other
and that's as good a way to end as start.
There is nothing you or I
                or either one of us can say.
Beyond hello before goodbye there should be 
a string of words or one long paragraph to make
                                the ending easy.
I am so amazed at finding out my head 
still reels under even friendly blows
that I'm determined not to let the boxer
or the battler come in close again.

Nor will I willingly go out into the evening 
any more and place myself within
that enchanted circle of the hunters.
The moving staircase or the rain..

I have so little permanency and not much 
time left up ahead. I ought to stay at home
behind the iron gates and rainbow glass.
                Sure places I've constructed.

It's quiet there and best of all
the disappointments yet to come can be 
lived by me in private. No one need ever know
if the wounds are fatal or if I'm waiting out
                       some healing time.

There is an emptiness and it is deep.
A wound so old that healing wouldn't work.

If I have not yet come back around
to where I started then I am only inches
from that now narrow corridor
              that will bring me there.

Relief I feel, I'll not deny it. But there's 
a sorrow too as though the world was finally
slipping from me and away.

Perspective, I have none. Sorrow - there isn't any.
Plans? What plans could I have except to live here 
for a time until I know it's finally time to go.

       
- from the second U.S. edition of "Moment To Moment", 1974
 
     
 
© 1970, 1986, 2002, 2003, 2005 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
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