Oh my.  I get a little wistful when I think about Memorial Day.  It’s based on loss, isn’t it?

Earlier this month on these very pages I wrote about the Bartholomew County Veterans Memorial on the courthouse lawn in Columbus the town I was born in.  It was a solemn experience to read those letters to home from soldiers whose letters made it but they did not.

Vibrant boys and men whose words hung heavy in the air and are now in stone not unlike the meaning their lives had on so many of us.

Today my dear wife, Carrie, and I took a walk down at Hayswood Park.  We put in five miles.  At the top of the hill there were flags that were placed to honor those we remember on Memorial Day.

The walkway to what is below…

So many flags.  So much loss.  So much to remember.  So much to be thankful for.   So much to be ashamed of.  So much to pray for.  So much to hope for.  So much to never forget.

Like so many towns, we fly the colors and remember and pray and hope that Memorial Day thankfulness will never be lost on the future.  History books seem to be getting thinner as time goes on.  That does not make sense to me.

Thankful and proud to be an American for sure.

Thank you for your service, Raymond.  We could have been born in the same town.  You won’t be forgotten.

Speaking the rights…

Danny Johnson

I have seen my share of British Rock Royalty.

I have seen Paul McCartney sing four times.  Be still my beating heart.

I have heard The Moody Blues sing Nights in White Satin fifty-six times.

Pink Floyd?  Saw them in 1987 during The Momentary Lapse of Reason Tour.

Saw Roger Waters, the Pink Floyd brain, two years ago in Louisville.

Know that I would not take a free ticket to see The Rolling Stones.   That is just me.

I didn’t think I would ever see another British Rock Royalty group after my dear wife, Carrie, and I walked out of The Ryman Auditorium in July of 2017 after seeing The Moody Blues.  I made a conscious decision that I would see The Moodies for the last time in the most iconic indoor venue in North America, The Ryman.  We saw them at Red Rocks in 2011.  Mission accomplished.

Two things happened to me to lead us to The Who last weekend.  I read Roger Daltrey’s autobiography over spring break.  It was a wonderful read.  Best musical autobiography since John Fogerty’s a couple years back.

I read Roger’s book.  I have also been so moved by The Who’s involvement in The Concert for New York after what happened on 9/11.  I listen to that concert on CD now and again and I am in awe of The Who’s performance.

Has The Who been a part of the soundtrack of my life?  Yes.  Of course, how could they not.  Have I had chances to see them before?  Yes.  Why now?

Roger Daltrey is 75 and Pete Townsend turned 74 two days ago.  I know what that means.  I sing.

These guys didn’t just show up.  They brought it.  They were real.  They were earnest.  It was a musical treat I did not think I would find again.

Buoyed by an 44 piece orchestra they blew us away with 7 songs from Tommy and 7 songs from Quadrophenia and 3 songs from Who’s Next.  Include Substitute from the 60s and You Better You Better You Bet from the 80s inside the 24 song set and you had something special.

Baba O’Riley.

Won’t Get Fool Again.

Love, Reign O’er Me.

Oh my.  It was wonderful.  Twenty-six years earlier I saw The Moody Blues at Deer Creek with an Orchestra.  I still call it Deer Creek, the outdoor amphitheater in Noblesville, Indiana that is now 30 years old.  It has had a few name changes over the years.  It is not Klipsh or Verizon Wireless or Ruoff Home Mortgage to me….it is still Deer Creek.

The Who gave us a reason to celebrate.  And we did.

Speaking the musical rights…

Danny Johnson

This past weekend my dear wife, Carrie, and I spent time in the town I born in, Columbus, Indiana.

It was refreshing.  At the hotel we checked into they asked the occasion.  Many were there to attend IU graduation in Bloomington.  We were just there to get take it easy for a few days.  When we told a young lady the Kentucky Derby was upon our area heavy, she said, “Oh, is that going on?  Is that like the Indy 500 for us?”  I told her I thought so.

She wasn’t the only one.  At another a museum we visited I made mention of the Derby.  A guy made mention it was the beginning of May.  67 miles north of Louisville on Interstate 65 they are not quite impressed by the Derby.  Like I always tell my Mother, the rain has to start and stop somewhere.

Carrie and I discovered Indiana history, Hoosier history, American history, Hero history.

The Atterbury-Bakalar Air Museum is at the Columbus Airport.

We read about and saw displays about much history.

On the Bartholomew County Courthouse grounds we found this.  It was a humbling experience.  Carrie and I have a son that was in helicopter that was shot down in Afghanistan.  When he was in active duty in the Army, his job was being a crew chief on a Blackhawk helicopter hanging out of the side door with a 50 caliber machine gun between his legs.  That will give you a perspective I hope no one has to endure.

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I wish more kids could understand this.  Does that make me old?

Or does it make me wise?

Speaking the thankful rights…

Danny Johnson