Another in a series of posts as I head toward my 50th birthday.

A few weeks ago I rediscovered a single sheet of paper that had been handed to me a least a decade and a half ago.  It was song lyrics written by the mother of an old friend of mine.  A prolific writer of prose and verse, this wonderful lady knew that I was finding my way musically.  At the time I had written some songs and recorded them and did a few things playing some places and it probably appeared like I knew what I was doing.

She had confidence in me, I suppose.  She had more confidence than I did, I can tell.

She handed me a that piece of paper and asked me to put music to her words.  I am quite sure I had a silent scream on my face.  I was trying to find my own words and music at the time.  And now this wonderful lady, whom I respect beyond words or music, was asking me to score some lyrics she had written?  Oh my.

“Now don’t rush.  I’m in no hurry.  But if you find time and can do something with it, I’d like to hear it one day if you can.”

She said these words with the same cadence and delivery that she used when her son’s friends would show up and she would show us to the kitchen table for some home-cooked vittles.

“Oh boys, it ain’t much.  I got some fried taters and fried chicken and here’s some green beans and a few biscuits.  Get what you want if you can find anything there worth eatin’.”

They lived in Milltown.  We quickly renamed the place “Mealtown”.

So a few weeks ago I found those lyrics.  When she handed those to me I was scared to death.  I was not worthy!  The gravity of putting music to her words was too much for me fifteen or seventeen years ago. I couldn’t do it.

When I came across those words on that sheet paper recently I was relieved that I found it.  I was glad I still had it.  Of course I had it.  I keep all important writings.

I pulled out my guitar and in fifteen minutes I was singing this song and a shiver went up the spine.

A few days ago I called my friend, this lady’s son.  I asked if he had ever heard mention of a song his Mom wrote of a particular title.  He told me he had not heard of it.  I was not shocked.  I have written scores of stuff that I have not introduced to anyone.  If you write, that is what you do.

I told my friend my old fear of touching this song was replaced with relief that I had found it and could now…musical confidence is not a quite the same problem anymore…do something with it.  I told my friend I was not scared of it anymore.  He said something prophetic to all these recent speaktherights.com posts, “I think that happens when we get older.”

So I plan on stopping by her house soon to pull a guitar strap over my neck and say, “Jackie, do you remember that song you gave me to put music to a very long time ago?  I hope you like it.  This my debut of putting music to someone else’s words.  I like it.  I hope you do to.”

Glad I could share this with you.  It means a great deal to me.

Now I got some practicing to do.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

I had to put The Moody Blues in.

I was actually sitting here warming up my laptop and I thought, I have not listened to my one Alice Cooper CD is ages.  I put it in and got through 5 of the ten songs and it did nothing to help me write.  But now you know the Moody Blues fan who likes listening to Barry Manilow (if you have read earlier posts) also has Alice Cooper on the shelf.

The music collection is pretty wide.  Travis.  Train.  Fastball.  Willie Nelson.  Bill Anderson.  Frank Sinatra.  Davis Gilmour.  The Byrds. The Platters.  The Drifters.  Boz Scaggs.  David Foster.  Alicia Keys.  Dusty Springfield.

Here is the teller…which music artists are represented most on my shelf?

The Moody Blues:  I have everything they have released.  After The Moodies the top ten include:

Bob Seger, Paul McCartney, Merle Haggard, Asia, Huey Lewis and the News, Jimmy Buffett, Bruce Springsteen,  The Beatles, Gordon Lightfoot, and Billy Joel.  I probably have more Chicago than I think.  Tim Krekel is also well represented, as he should be.

What is not on my music shelf that you might think may be there?

There is no Led Zepplelin.  Won’t be. I have no Fleetwood Mac, though I enjoy hearing them on the radio.  I have no REO Speedwagon.  I have no Bon Jovi.  I have no Journey.  I have no Def Leppard (sp?).  Aside from Hotel California, I was never a great Eagles fan.  I really get a kick out of Joe Walsh though.  I have no Bob Dylan,  I have heard he is genius.  I’d rather listen to Alice Cooper.  I do stop in my tracks when I hear Dylan sing the song “Jokerman” and his songs “My Back Pages” by The Byrds and “I Don’t Want to Do It” by George Harrison are tops.  But that is all the Dylan I want to listen to.  Don’t tell me about a genius writing a line like “the sun’s not yellow it’s chicken”.  I don’t want to hear that.

Bob Seger is my American Rocker poet.  I listened to him in a football locker room as a kid and I got it.  “Against the Wind” is pure poetry.  No one brought more personal sounds to the lyric like Bob Seger did.  The sounds don’t seem to be looking for lyric approval.  They  fit .  They are perfect together…Seger’s words and the music he puts together.

John Mellencamp?  I got a couple of his CDs but I don’t reach for them often.  I don’t need to listen to Indiana when I am sitting here.

Those are my musical thoughts tonight.

Speaking the RIghts…

Danny Johnson

10 days in, 40 days to go and I will be 50 years old.

I decided to do something a little different tonight.  I went into the speaktherights.com photo vault and decided to comment on some of my favorite pictures in no particular order, other than I wish I had time to show more.

This basketball goal is on a tree in front of the house of one of my mother’s older sisters.  The tree and the goal are outside of Forest, Mississippi on a road that hasn’t changed much in the over forty years of it that I can remember.

I will never forget the shiver up the spine I received when I looked at this on my Directv screen in 2016.  Too cool.  Thank you ladies.

Bob, Tim, and Davis lead blocking for me into Neyland Stadium in Knoxville to watch the third Saturday in October.  That means BAMA and UT.

It means…

and a little…

That old boy was melting my earwax!

A great picture of Jarrett and Cody one day on Blue River fishing…and catching fish, I might add.  Best photo I ever took with crappy old phone.

Carrie and me at Kingsport, TN to see a Train concert.  We sat on a high school football field watching it.  Thank you Eastman Corp. for sponsoring such an event that cost 20 bucks to attend.

Taking a photo of Carrie in front of the fictional Hill Street Station building in Chicago from the 80s cop show Hill Street Blues.  I was a nervous wreck.  “Lets be careful out there…”

While in Chicago, at the behest of dear old (he’s 50 already)  friend, Kelly Samons, we went for a Pizano’s pie and it was a good call.

Imagine that.  Me and my Dad at the Santa Monica Pier.

Don’t know how many of these I have in me.  But this was a good day.

So was this.  Taking a photo on a Friday from the Red Rocks stage near Denver.  The next night it looked like this…

The Moody Blues, of course.

Me and my Granny looking at and reminiscing over her spoon collection.  This photo was taken not long before she left us.  I still miss her.  The spoons are on a wall not far from where I am typing these words.

Never tire of these.

Working on a song with Rod Wurtele and Dr. Millard Dunn was a dream come true.  An English professor, a Wulfe Brother, and me.  I am a blessed man for sure.

There was never a better old hound.  I told him so to the end.

The renaissance of North Harrison Football has been a dream come true.  I got back just in time.

Before I left Medora, I got to Kiss the Bricks at Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  Made that trip three times with 4th grade class.  Thanks to Mr. Disque and the kids for asking me to join them.  It was great.

I’ll never claim photography skills.  All I can say was the light was right.  My friend Jerry Brown and his son Clay.

Adventures?  Yes, I have had a few.  But I can’t tell you how good it has been the past week to talk to kids heading off for visits at schools like Southern Illinois and East Tennessee State.  The looks on their faces when I point out landmarks or have tangible knowledge about Carbondale, Illinois or Johnson City, Tennessee is priceless.  They are glad I get it and I am glad I can help.  Getting around a bit never hurt.

I think this photo was in the second post I put here.  Bob and Davis took me to Fenway and there on the big board was Fisk’s iconic homer against the Reds in the ’75 World Series.  Then they showed Fisk at the game that night.  I could write about that night the rest of this one.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

I watched the first half of the Super Bowl over at my parents’ house. Mom was there.  Dad is still in rehab with his hip.  He is to come home tomorrow.

It was a great first half.

If Cris Collinsworth watched as much football as I do, he would have known that trick play where Nick Foles, the quarterback of the Eagles, played possum and drifted into the end zone to catch the TD pass on 4th down, was a play that was run in a MAC game between Bowling Green and Toledo…I think.  It may have been another team.  But they ran that same play.

But then again, Cris has been busy informing us all of his football acumen all game long and there is only so much time and breath in one man.

As is the custom, my dear wife, Carrie, and I drove home during the halftime show.  I didn’t want to watch Justin Timberlake.  If it was Justin Hayward I would have listened.  I think the last Super Bowl halftime performance I watched was Paul McCartney a number of years ago.

Right now as I watch there is a great debate as to whether the Eagles receiver was in or out of the back of the end zone with a TD pass.  The ruling stands.  Touchdown.  I bet my brother, Darrell, the Eagles fan, thought it would come back.

It has been a great Super Bowl.

Go Eagles Go!

I getting back to the game and tomorrow we can keep…

Speaking the rights.

Danny Johnson

I am bummed out.  My Dad, I talked to him today, is at a rehab facility following his 2nd hip replacement surgery.  The plan was he was to be picked up today and brought home.  The reality is that he came face to face with a stomach bug yesterday and the stomach bug won.

Bottom line…Dad won’t be home until Monday and for the first time in recent memory, save one Super Bowl between Dallas and Buffalo, I won’t be with him at his house to watch the Super Bowl.  That king eats it.  I did talk to Dad today.  He said he is feeling better.  He is gaining ground.  Thanks be to God.  His hips don’t hurt anymore.  I am so glad for him.

The show must go on.  Super Bowl LII features the New England Patriots, a.k.a the Evil Empire,  against the Philadelphia Eagles.  The Eagles are my brother Darrell’s favorite team.  Go Eagles!  To help the Eagles cause, I picked the Patriots 40-17 in a radio contest.  I hope it backfires as usual.  But then again I would not turn down a TV and a recliners and Reds tickets and an outdoor fire pit and…wait a minute…no…I won’t sell out!  I hope my pick is pathetic and the Eagles win by two scores or two points.

When I think of my favorite Super Bowls…I think about Super Bowl XIII…Steelers 35 Cowboys 31 in the last of the 1970s in January of ’79.  Terry Bradshaw v. Roger Staubach for a second time in three years.  That was great stuff.

Of course I wince when I think about my 8th grade year in 1982 with Super Bowl XVI.  The Cincinnati Bengals came out and laid a first half egg against the SF 49ers and some third year quarterback named Joe Montana.  He threw for 157 yards and was the MVP.  My hero, Ken Anderson, threw for 300 and set a then SB completion percentage record and still lost.  That was tough, I can tell you.

Watching Eli Manning lead the Giants to two Super Bowl victories over the New England Patriots should get him in the Hall of Fame one day, especially if the Pats win this one.

Peyton leading the Colts over the Bears in the rain in Miami was special.

Then Peyton did it again for the Broncos in Super Bowl 50 against the Carolina Panthers.  The NFL  has not been the same since Peyton rode off in the sunset after this game.

Have fun tomorrow.  I will be watching the game at my parents’ house with my mother and my siblings and my dear wife, Carrie.  Go Eagles!

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

As my dear wife, Carrie, trotted upstairs as I declared I was going to work on post #7 of this series she said, “Write something funny.”

My brain went into overload.  So many good times and funny things came to mind.  I am fortunate and blessed that I have that.  But when I sit here and try to conjure up the words to bring these moments together it seems rather difficult.

When I first thought about Day 7 in this series I naturally thought about 7…as in 7 points…a touchdown and an extra point.  When I was in the 4th grade I won a competition among all 4th graders at Brownstown Central Elementary School and it was called “Shoot to the Moon”…maybe because we had, in 1977,  just seen out first pictures of something called a “Space Shuttle” piggybacked on top of a Boeing 747 in Weekly Reader.  That is a true story.  Anyway, I won the contest.  It was a combination of time and accuracy.  50 simple multiplication problems on a single page…who can get them done first with accuracy?  It was Mrs. Lahrman’s 4th grade math class.  I can only tell you that I attribute my multiplication dexterity back in the day, as I was never a great math student, to being able to put together football scores.  2pt conversion.  3 pt field goal.  6 pt touchdown.  7 pts touchdown and extra point.  8 pts touchdown and 2 pt. conversion.  Down by ten?  Need a field goal and TD and extra point to tie.  6 touchdowns and 6 extra points later?  42 points of course.  It was a football scoreboard that has allowed me to this day put that mental math in place.  But that’s not funny.

Yesterday I was talking to my sister, Lynn, about some of the shenanigans I use to pull when I worked at the now CLOSED Sears store in Clarksville.  Store 2160.  I was employee number 119644.  I had a time card and punched in and punched out when I started working there in 1987.  I had just turned nineteen.  A few years later the time cards were replaced with “swipe” cards…electronics and the modern way had found us.  I can tell you I am glad I caught the tail end of the old time card days and the “CLUNK” sound the clock made when one clocked in and out.

Thirty years ago I worked on the dock at Sears at the Greentree Mall.  It was hard work.  A trailer would come in and my boss Ed Caldemeier would open the trailer and almost get hit by garage door opener falling down.  Ed could cuss in complete sentences and was one of the finest men I have ever known.  He respected the work we did on that dock.  Because of that, we worked our butts off for him.

One day, when I knew that the ONLY manager on duty was a friend of mine, I pulled a joke on one of my co-workers.  His name was Guy.  He was much older than I was.  He had worked at the old Sears store on 8th and Broadway in Louisville and many of those folks transferred to the Clarksville store when it opened.  I can remember many of those folks and I loved hearing them tell their old 8th and Broadway stories.  I know where their store was located and every time I drive by there I can hear their voices.

The day I pulled the joke I was only interested in Guy’s voice.  I knew the only manager there was a friend of mine.  I knew I could pull this off and not get too much heat.

I was on the dock and we had a phone on the wall next to the swinging doors that led to where we would unload trucks.  I have never been afraid of a phone.  When it was time to make a page out on the sales floor to get a manager’s attention, I was voted to be the big mouth to do it.

One day  I picked that phone up and dialed the STORE WIDE page.  Sales floor, stock room, break room, bath room, everyone listening as I punched in the store page number…and looked at Guy.  “Guy, it’s for you!” I yelled, knowing whatever he was going to say would be heard by half of Clarksville.

“Hello?”  Guy heard nothing.

Again, “Hello?”  Guy heard nothing.

He pulled the receiver away and looked at it and yelled, “Well who is this?”

The whole store busted out laughing.  I let Guy in on the joke and he told me it was a good one…that I had him.  Thank God he was a good sport.  I haven’t seen Guy in twenty five years or better.  He was a good man.

All of this reminded me of another funny…and it will have to wait.

Cos I got 43 more of days of this assignment to…

Speak the Rights.

Danny Johnson

Forever intrigued with the Flowering of New England literature of the mid-1800s and that great chasm of misunderstanding and stance between the transcendentalist  and anti-transcendentalist, I think a visit to those literary stomping grounds gave me the impetus to begin this writing endeavor known as speaktherights.com.

I have written here before about the influence Dr. Millard Dunn, my favorite English professor, was on my writing life and my music life.  I thought of Millard when I visited Walden Pond in 2011 and Herman Melville’s home, Arrowhead, in Pittsfield, Mass last year.  I studied the work of Melville and Henry David Thoreau in earnest when I was in Dr. Dunn classes. Many of those days and actual class meetings are still so clear in my mind.  It is special.

My dear wife, Carrie, and I first went to New England in 2011.  We went there to see friends, Bob and Michelle in New Hampshire, over our fall break.  Bob and his son, Davis, and I went to see the UNH Wildcats play the Rhode Island Rams at a UNH home game.  It was great.

The next morning there were 18 inches of snow on the ground.  A good old fashioned Nor’easter  came through.  It was something.

In 2014, Carrie and I went to The Berkshires in western Mass.  We loved the place.  We have been back every year since and plan to return for a fifth year in a row in late June.  Not far from Hancock, Mass, where we stay, is Pittsfield where Herman Melville wrote Moby DIck and lived for a number of years.

Here I am doing my best George Plimpton imitation outside the Pittsfield Athenaeum…a fancy name for a library.

Melville’s house.

The barn where Herman Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne chewed the fat.  I was in awe.

Not to short Thoreau, of course, this is Walden pond which is also on the header of speaktherights.com right now.

When Carrie and I came home in 2014 from our Northeast visit, I had writing ants in my pants.  In July of that year I began speaktherights.com.  This is the 400th entry on this site. It is hard for me to believe.  In the fall of 2014 I wrote extensively about my Granny’s illness and eventual passing.  It was cathartic for me.  It is nice to have to look back on, as well as so many other days and times and hopes, wishes and dreams.

So here is the first post…

Oh, and Happy 50th Birthday to my dear friend Kelly “Samonhead” Samons.

I am on my way to join you as I…speak the rights along the way!

Danny Johnson

A few minutes ago my dear wife, Carrie, and I pulled in the driveway.  It was a quick drive from Seymour.  Our friend Steve Hanger was with us.  When Steve and I get together time flies faster than our stories.

Tonight at the Lloyd E. Scott Gymnasium in Seymour, the Lady Cats of North Harrison High School were defeated by the Bedford North Lawrence Lady Stars 47-39.

God Bless the fans from North Harrison.  They showed up in GREAT numbers given a 6 o’clock tip-off in Seymour some 60 miles from Ramsey.  I was so proud of all our folks.  I was especially proud of the Lady Cats.

The Lady Cats fought hard to the very end.

Much has been made of the Lady Cats being moved up in class from 3A to 4A just because they made appearances in the last two 3A State Final games but did not win either one.  I have made noise about it.

Look, I just speak the rights.  No need to stop now.  The three officials doing tonight’s game wanted to be more of the story than the ten girls on the floor.  They seemed like they were not there for the right reasons.  I have NEVER called out refs before.  These guys were beyond terrible.  They were showy and demonstrative when they relayed calls to the scorer’s table.  One guy out there looked like he was auditioning for the part.  It was sad.  It was sad because I know the NH team worked so hard to get there.

This is not to say that a few more free throws in the hole for North and a few less in the hole for BNL would not have made a difference.  Sure it would have.  But I had a great sense that country mouse was not welcomed in city mouse’s gym…on many levels.  And that is a shame.

The IHSAA got it wrong again when they moved NHHS to 4A in girls basketball.  I say again referencing to a football snafu after a storm ten years ago that cancelled a football game that never got played.  But that is ancient history.

What won’t be ancient history is the run the NHHS Lady Cats have been on the last three years.  The ball will keep bouncing and the Lady Cats will keep rolling.

I am proud of all of them.

Speaking the Rights…

Danny Johnson