Oh my.

Spoiler alert.  I am about to sound like a crotchety old fogy.  I don’t want to.  It just happens that way.

Music.  I love music.  Always have.  That won’t change.  Regardless of what the music business does to screw up music, my love for the tunes that move me will never cease to move me.

I walked 4 and half miles today and I listened to tunes I love.  Later in the day I spent 30-some minutes on an elliptical watching and listening to The Moody Blues live from the Greek Theatre in 2005.  When I exercise I will listen to and enjoy tunes doing so.

I have gotten acclimated, swallow real hard, to listening to Amazon music when I walk.  We pay for it, I suppose.  There is an Amazon Prime membership that factors in there somewhere.

Today I read a story about Pink Floyd’s 1983 album The Final Cut.  It was the last thing Roger Waters did as a member of Pink Floyd.  We don’t have time to get into the lineage of Pink Floyd or what is good bad or indifferent about that group.

The thing is, I heard a “dink” over my head and decided to go get my Pink Floyd Final Cut CD off the shelf to listen to for the first time in a very long time.  Then, I turned my head sideways.  No way, I thought.  No way Pink Floyd’s Final Cut is on the Amazon Music?  I am not talking about Amazon Music Unlimited.

I looked before I retrieved it from the shelf.  There it was on Amazon Music.  All I have to do is pull it up on my phone and use the blue tooth speaker and listen to this album like I always have.

I struggle with this.  I really do.  Show of hands of how many of you remember certain groups or solo artist whose CDs would not come below the 14.99 mark back in the day?  If you wanted Pink Floyd back in the day, you were gonna pay!  I think I got my copy of The Final Cut for 17.99 on CD a long time ago.  I am listening to it now.  It is my favorite Pink Floyd album.  Politically charged music it was then.  But I suppose that concept is a thing of the past.  Guess whomever makes the purse string decisions regarding music and politics found a calculus that did not add up.  How else can you figure a lack of protest music today?

I will tell you.  We have stretched ourselves music thin in this country.  Too late to bring the masses together with a tune.  That is museum stuff now.  Garth Brooks is playing Drive-In theaters.  “Nuff” said.

Me.  Time and life have seen me be fortunate enough to make music.  I must say it has all been a blessing to me.  In the world of music, I am a NOBODY.  I get that.  With that said, music is a NOBODY in these crazy times we are looking at outside our windows.  Oh yes, you can pay 100 bucks and go listen to Garth Brooks at a drive-in.  That makes me feel better.

In earnest, my songs are listened to.  That, I do like. Above is a page from my digital sales.

Will it make me money?  Not much.  I recently shared with a music artist of prominence my status in the world of digital music.  I told him that my tunes have been downloaded over 7000 times.  I have less than 10 dollars to show for it.

Don’t play music unless you love it enough to let it go.

When I was ten in 1978, a Bay City Rollers album cost about $7.99 for ten songs.  Pay that a month today and you can listen to anything. Convert those 8 bucks in 1978 to 32 bucks today.  God love my parents! I got all the BCR albums made.

I am a music rich man for sure!

Speaking the rights….

Danny Johnson

If you see me in a mask, don’t be offended.  I am trying to help both of us.

I got here on March 18th of 1968.  The morning I pushed my way into the world, something was wrong.  My lungs.  They were not ready for this world. My mother had to wait days to hold me. I don’t think my lungs were ready for this world.

With the exception to two quick trips to Denver, Colorado, I don’t think my lungs have served me like they are supposed to.  During those trips, I distinctly remember the freedom I felt when I could physically feel cool air hit places in my lungs I did not know existed.  One of those trips was in 2011 to see The Moody Blues play at Red Rocks.  The other was an education conference I attended in 2014.  I still hold those few days in high memory regard.

Before this year, the last six Carrie and I have headed to the Northeast for a couple of weeks.  The humidity and air quality there is much better.  Thanks to Covid, we had to cancel that trip this year.  I have felt it too.

I wear the mask.  I need it.

When I was in the 7th grade I could not play football.  Breathing problems.  This is not a good thing when your Dad is the head coach of the high school team.  It was miserable.

Made it through my 8th grade year.  I started allergy shots too.

My 9th grade football season was tough breathing wise.  I had an inhaler in my sock at all times.  There were times when I pushed myself beyond places I should have.  I still remember one day.  I was wrapped up in fresh cut grass trying to catch my breath…sucking on my inhaler mad at the world.  Coach Tim Harbison came over and calmed me down.  He told me he knew I was a football player,  when I wasn’t feeling like one.  I was sucking wind like Secretariat down the stretch and not catching near enough.

When my dear wife, Carrie, and I are not in the Northeast, we are on the North Carolina coast.  The air is kinder there too.  Truth is, I was not made for this Ohio Valley climate.  I deal with it.  I don’t like it.

In 2004 I had trouble breathing.  To the hospital I went.  An ambulance ride saw my blood pressure plummet.  There was doubt.

I had a heart cath.  Heart was good.  Breathing was not.

In the years since I have made the most of it.  I’m still here.

A week or so ago, without the benefit of a trip to The Berkshires and without an allergy shot since March 17th, I called my doc.  I couldn’t breathe without thinking long and hard about it.  Involuntary breathing is a gift folks.  Doc sent me a steroid and an antibiotic to my pharmacy.  We both knew it would clear me up.  It did.

I walked over nine miles today.  Loved it.  Enjoyed breathing in and out.  Am smiling about  it now.

Am about to start a new job at Paoli High School and I am so excited to do so.  Just know, this ole boy will probably wear a mask longer than the rest of you.  I call it self-preservation.  I love my life.  I want it to keep going for a while.

Now…That is speaking the rights!

Danny Johnson

Cue John Fogerty!  Lookin’ Out My Back Porch!

Just got home from Illinois I wish!

About this time of year for the last I don’t know how many, my dear wife, Carrie, and I usually head down the road for a little R and R.  No five papers with my name on them waiting at the bottom of the hill at The Country Store in the Berkshires.

Last year’s last haul of papers the morning we left.  Boston Globe, Boston Herald, New York Times, New York Daily News, and the Berkshire (Pittsfield) Eagle were waiting on me every morning.  I miss them.

For self-preservation purposes, we have not gone too far down the road in a while.  The last time we went anywhere over night was to Bloomington in February to celebrate our wedding anniversary.

We did spend the night in Illinois after Christmas on our way back from visiting with relatives in Mississippi.  Haven’t crossed the state line too many times since then.  Strange days indeed.

Went back and forth with an old friend yesterday via text message.  I still call him Mulllcat.  I have not seen Tim Mullins in longer than I can remember.  He’s one of those.  If you have a few of those in your life, consider yourself fortunate.  When we go back and forth via text or an all elusive phone call, it is just like we spoke at length the day before.  Wish I could explain.  Even more delighted that I cannot.  Our conversations usually ruminate from our shared joy of music.  He took me to see George Thorogood at Coyotes in Louisville back in December of 1993.  Seems the ceiling in the place was like twelve feet high.  We were leaning on the stage.  My hearing recovered by the next March when I saw The Moody Blues a couple times that month.

I took Mullcat to see The Moodies a few times.  We sure had a good time wherever we went.

I wish I had the motivation to get more writing done.  I have had great intentions.  I  put a nice tune together on the guitar a couple of days ago but just could not find the right words.  Oh I had some to go along.  But we are in a point in history when you want to get it right.  Mistakes are going to be blown up more than ever and there is a critic, for better or worse, around every corner.  I am trying to be realistic here, not cynical.

I think about the Greg Walker’s of the world and I say a prayer for all of them.  Greg is the superintendent of Paoli Community Schools.  He and all school superintendents are in a spot as we move forward with what to do as far as opening schools back up in August.  Surveys go out.  Dialogue flies back and forth.  Prayers are sent up.  You just want to do the right thing at the end of day.  It does not matter who gets the credit.  It is the unwarranted blame that bothers me. Leadership and competence certainly come with a price.  I am thankful for strong leaders.

As I said, I wish I had the motivation to do more writing these days.  I think back at when I turned 50 in 2018 and I wrote a post a day for the fifty days leading up to my birthday.  That is just too much ambition for me right now.

I hope and pray you and yours are doing well right now.  It is tough.  But we still need to find a way to…speak the rights.

Danny Johnson