tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-114020112024-03-13T10:55:28.584-06:00Frank's First Blog Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-58110406677989176322009-04-25T21:58:00.004-06:002009-04-25T22:10:56.945-06:00Fly While There's Light To Go<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Nothin' but hard times here<br />The sun keeps sinkin' low<br />Darkness will soon appear<br />Fly while there's light to go</span></span><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">...to our new digs @</span> <a href="http://intouchwiththemystery.blogspot.com/">In Touch With The Mystery</a> <br /><br />Hope you enjoy and if you'd like to listen to a few of my songs just click on my new home page <a href="http://www.franktrainor.com" target="blank">www.franktrainor.com</a> to hear what's currently up in the media player including my acoustic guitar/vocal demo of my latest song <span style="font-weight:bold;">Fly While There's Light To Go</span>. There's 10 songs currently up on the player so you may enjoy the others as well.<br /> <br />Special thanks to those who've linked to this page since <span style="font-weight:bold;">FRANKtalk</span>. I've appreciated your kind recognition and support. It's been fun.<br /> <br />And it is my sincere hope you will continue in support of my efforts by replacing this old link at your page with our new one. Whatever you may choose to do for your current scroll, you will always have my gratitude and respect for the honor your links bring to my blog.<br /> <br />We’re kicking it up to another level at <span style="font-weight:bold;">In Touch With The Mystery</span> and I welcome you to continue moving forward with us at this time.<br /> <br />It's an historic and unprecedented period in our world today with so many challenges threatening the foundations of western civilization. <br /> <br />It's long past time for choosing sides beyond mere retail politics.<br />Like it or not we must stand strong in defense of first principles.<br /><br />I hope and pray that the many may follow but truly the few will gain victory over this troubled hour though the many remain lost forever. <br /> <br />Well...it’ll be dark soon...the night will be pulling the clouds around the stars...stop…hey…what’s that sound…everybody look…moon goin' down baby...north star about to shine...fly while there's light to go...<br /><br /><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 338px; height: 450px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/fly.jpg" border="0" alt="" />Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-34868460026605476972009-02-22T03:33:00.012-07:002009-02-22T04:35:55.550-07:00Heaven's Remains<span style="font-weight: bold;">The abyss opens up in the centre of your soul. And this abyss of interior solitude is a hunger that will never be satisfied with any created thing. The only way to find solitude is by hunger and thirst and sorrow and poverty and desire, and the man who has found solitude is empty, as if he had been emptied by death. He has advanced beyond all horizons. There are no directions left in which he can travel. This is a country whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AvLj72apGLI&feature=related" target="blank">nowhere</a>. You do not find it by travelling but by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijiVYgvbP1M&feature=related" target="blank">standing still</a>. Yet it is in this loneliness that the deepest activities begin. It is here that you discover act without motion, labor that is profound repose, vision in obscurity, and, beyond all desire, a fulfillment whose limits extend to infinity.</span><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Thomas Merton - New Seeds of Contemplation</span></span><br /><br /></div><img style="width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/stranger3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">"Heaven's Remains" <span style="font-size:85%;">- Copyright © 2009 Frank Trainor</span></span></span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was ambitious </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />My blood was cold water</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />And my brow poured with sweat when it rained</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />But the heat that came down on my head never burned</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Like my passion for Heaven's Remains</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />I lived in a mansion</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Down south by the beaches</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Where the money takes different names</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />A Porsche in the drive and a porch with a sign that said</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Welcome to Heaven's Remains</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Where there's nothin' to lose and nothin' to gain</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />There's nothin' at all but a mournful refrain</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Paradise is a song pride aches to recall</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Every dream of its own is a far cry from home</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Here in Heaven's Remains</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />When I return </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />To the ashes and mud</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />When the dust comes to sleep in my veins</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />There should be a quote on my tombstone engraved</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />That says good-bye to Heaven's Remains </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Where there's nothin' to lose and nothin' to gain</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />There's nothin’ at all but a mournful refrain</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Paradise is a song pride aches to recall</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Every dream of its own is a far cry from home</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Here in Heaven's Remains</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span><img style="width: 400px; height: 648px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/grave.jpg" alt="" border="0" />Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-25247759083993224452009-02-03T22:20:00.018-07:002009-02-07T01:56:22.907-07:00Desperados Waiting For A Train<span style="font-weight: bold;">Hey Guy...what's goin’ on man...? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">You must be waiting for a train… </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I know it takes a lot to laugh...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Naw…I'm just wonderin' why every well I've drilled has gone dry. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm always snappin' at the dog & cryin' at the Andy Griffith Show. Whoever said the hand is quicker than the eye has never tried to brush away a tear or ever had his hand burn for a Randall Knife.</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 355px; height: 237px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/clark.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hmmm...I believe you…and trust it’s true</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">But in the meantime... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm gonna start my pickin' right now...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Just tell me where you'll be...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Desperado pointed down the road and said, Eternity! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/sbk.jpg" target="blank">Eternity</a>…? said Frankie T with a voice as cold as ice. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That's right, said <a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/sam.jpg" target="blank">Sam</a> ...Eternity!<br /><br />Though you might call it Paradise.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I don't call it anything, said Frankie T with a smile. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">All right, said <a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/1chancey_rush.jpg" target="blank">Blake</a>, I'll see you after awhile.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What kind of <a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/franktrainor31.jpg" target="blank">house</a> is this, I said, where I have come to roam? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It's not a house, said <a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/franktrainor37.jpg" target="blank">Beckham</a>. It's not a house, it's a home.</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 350px; height: 234px; font-weight: bold;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/bobdollykrisbillytonychris.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" >Chris Gantry, Tony Joe White, Billy Swan, Bob Beckham, Dolly Parton,<br />Kris Kristofferson - Combine Writers Reunion - photo credit CJ Flanagan</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">But what was really cool was our CMA week open house...hanging out and diggin' in to fresh New York deli trays flown in special for Sir Charles Koppelman and Marty Bandier...lot of silver limos on the row that week...anyway, we're all hangin' and who walks up to join us but Mickey Newbury and Billy Joe Shaver...and then Stewart Harris asked if I was from Canada and it turned out that he had actually spent an entire summer in the early 70's playing a steady gig in my home province. He worked every other week-end alternating with some other singer who - as it turns out - was me. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We never met because our paths had never crossed but I always wondered just who that other dude was who worked those other week-ends I was off. We met for the very first time 15 years later standing in that Combine/SBK parking lot talking with Guy Clark, Mickey Newbury and <a href="http://www.to-music.ca/bjs.htm" target="blank">Billy Joe Shaver</a>. How about that for mystical coincidence, eh...? Even Robert Earl Keen Jr. thought that story was crazier than Copenhagen. I even played a few of my songs for Billy Joe in the Combine studio. He said; "man...you're tough...!" </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yeah…well, there ain't nobody tougher than you brother Shaver. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What an amazing day...and wasn't that </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.craigbickhardt.com/" target="blank">Craig Bickhardt</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> of SKB arriving as I was heading out to my car...<a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/bmi_hh_88.jpg" target="blank">sure looked like him</a>.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">These days, I'm a fan of Craig's songwriter blog</span> <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://ninetymilewind.blogspot.com/" target="blank">Ninety Mile Wind</a><span style="font-weight: bold;">.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And how about Tony Joe White at the Cockeyed Camel out there in Belle Meade with Steve Cropper & Duck Dunn...those legendary Muscle Shoals / Memphis MG's chompin & stompin and settin' the hook in the swamp with </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://franktrainor.blogspot.com/2007/08/few-good-bluesmen.html" target="blank">TJW & his Lightnin' Hopkins soul</a><span style="font-weight: bold;">...that's what I'm talkin' about...and later on tuckin' into a big crappie fry at Leanne & Tony Joe's home in Franklin...great folks...very cool.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><img style="width: 316px; height: 350px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/6rhody_henry_trainor.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I was the pilgrim wasted on the sidewalk...<br /><br />I was also Billy Dee</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">…17 when I turned 21…</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It’s a long tough difficult story but I had to beat the devil...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">So I jumped a greyhound in ’72 and set off to find Kristofferson.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">15 years later, I set my suitcase down at Combine Music.<br /><br />Music City Row. To keep the chilly wind off my guitar. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Did I sign my contract in Kris Kristofferson's office...?</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Is that some kind of a trick question...?</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7h2oHmMjzg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/k7h2oHmMjzg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ain't you come a long way...</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 425px; height: 199px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/5signing_party_bmi.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><img style="width: 416px; height: 450px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/franktrainor54.jpg" alt="" border="0" />Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-46565022504630065502009-01-10T21:10:00.009-07:002009-01-11T17:16:04.829-07:00Born Toward Dying<img style="width: 150px; height: 189px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/neuhaus.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Richard John Neuhaus 1936 - 2009 RIP</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We are born to die. Not that death is the purpose of our being born, but we are born toward death, and in each of our lives the work of dying is already underway. The work of dying well is, in largest part, the work of living well. Most of us are at ease in discussing what makes for a good life, but we typically become tongue-tied and nervous when the discussion turns to a good death. As children of a culture radically, even religiously, devoted to youth and health, many find it incomprehensible, indeed offensive, that the word "good" should in any way be associated with death. Death, it is thought, is an unmitigated evil, the very antithesis of all that is good. Death is to be warded off by exercise, by healthy habits, by medical advances. What cannot be halted can be delayed, and what cannot forever be delayed can be denied. But all our progress and all our protest notwithstanding, the mortality rate holds steady at 100 percent.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Born Toward Dying</span>...</span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.firstthings.com/article.php3?id_article=2538" target="blank">read the whole thing</a><span style="font-weight: bold;">… </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://richardjneuhaus.blogspot.com/" target="blank">Richard John Neuhaus </a><br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://ncronline3.org/drupal/?q=node/3063" target="blank">National Catholic Reporter</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The death of Father Richard John Neuhaus on Jan 8 was experienced here as if a family member had passed away. Such was Father Neuhaus's importance and impact on my own spiritual growth and development. Indeed, a family member did pass on Christmas Eve as there were also a few other deaths and near deaths this Christmas season for our family. My late father's only surviving brother died Dec 24 at the age of 84. His widow's brother then died of cancer the same week. My mother also was rushed to emergency and hospitalized just days before Christmas after collapsing in public. She was treated, placed on intravenous and stabilized to the point that she was able to return home with medication but she's 77 and suffers from other ailments so we were concerned but relieved that she’s alright for now. News was also delivered over Christmas that on old friend from the 1970's Island we once knew in the springtime of our lives had recently died from bone cancer. Her name was "Blue" [see previous post].<br /><br />On top of all this living and dying in three quarter time came the news that my favorite uncle was scheduled to have his left leg amputated due to critical loss of circulation in the deteriorated limb. The major operation was necessary and according to doctors needed to be done right away but hospital staffing problems postponed surgery almost a week while he suffered in agony and uncertainty regarding his fate. It's all over now, surgery was successful and he's recovering, but a very dramatic time for my uncle John and his loving family. He's 79. Christmas itself was blessed, spirit filled, peaceful and serene this year.<br /><br />As for me...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">You may not like my appearance</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />May not like my song</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />May not like the way I talk</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />But you like the way I'm gone</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /><br />I'm a Freeborn Man</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />My home is on my back</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I drove every inch of highway</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Every bit of backroad</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Every mile of railroad track</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Git it guys...Freeborn Man...<br />Tony Rice, Mark O'Connor, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas & Bela Fleck</span><br /><br /><object style="font-weight: bold;" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AwHXOwk3xNo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AwHXOwk3xNo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Here's an intelligent take on quite another Tony that's mighty well worth considering... Father Barron reflects on The Sopranos </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=a5bzImAl5JQ&feature=related">http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=a5bzImAl5JQ&feature=related</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Meanwhile life goes on outside all around you… </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="https://www.watchobsession.org/">https://www.watchobsession.org/</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />Alright...two more for the road...let's kick it with "Frankie Belle"<br />Rhonda Vincent & The Rage w/guest fiddler Molly Cherryholmes<br />Josh Williams [acoustic guitar]...man can this guy play...<br /></span><br /><object style="font-weight: bold;" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WR5ptUzz4A4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WR5ptUzz4A4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And as a special dedication for the souls of our dearly departed...</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Norman Blake will play us out with his brilliantly nimble, "Salty"</span><br /><br /><object style="font-weight: bold;" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmZg4vxOPmk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmZg4vxOPmk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lastly, from the songwriting pen of a son of a son of a sailor...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And it's dance with me, dance with me</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Nautical Wheelers</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Take me to stars that you know</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Come on and dance with me</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Nautical Wheelers</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />I want so badly to go</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Well the sunrise'll bring on</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />The sleep that's escaped us</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />And everyone's off to their bed</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />There'll be huggin' and squeezin'</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />A little pleasin' and teasin'</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />And rubbin' of each others' head</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /><br />So won't you dream on comrades</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Seems nothing affects you</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Nothing, no reason nor rhyme</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />Cause everyone here is just more than contented</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br />To be living and dying in three quarter time. - </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Jimmy Buffet</span>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-6087975610963998442008-12-30T00:34:00.007-07:002008-12-30T05:06:16.531-07:00Blue<span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Blue, songs are like tattoos</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >You know I've been to sea before</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Crown and anchor me</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Or let me sail away</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" ><br />Hey Blue, THERE is a song for you</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Ink on a pin</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Underneath the skin</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >An empty space to fill in</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 235px; height: 215px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/moon_butterflies.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" >Well there're so many sinking now</span><b><span style=""><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">You've got to keep thinking<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">You can make it through these waves<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Acid, booze, and ass<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Needles, guns, and grass<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Lots of laughs, lots of laughs<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Everybody's saying that hell's the hippest way to go<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Well I don't think so<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">But I'm gonna take a look around it though<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Blue, I love you<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Blue, here is a shell for you<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">Inside you'll HEAR a sigh<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">A foggy lullaby<br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;">There is your song from me<br /></span><br /></span></b><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style=""><object style="font-family: arial;" width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_LhwlsaA-Vc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_LhwlsaA-Vc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></b><br /><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family:arial;">R.I.P. my old friend - Debbie "Blue" Johnstone Wright<br /></span></span><b><span style=""><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >In Memorium </span></span></b><b><span style=""><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >- </span></span></b><b><span style=""><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" >November 20, 1953 - November 11, 2008</span></span></b><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style=""><img style="width: 304px; height: 280px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/laby_blue.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></span></b><br /></div>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-77748879562825883052008-12-01T01:57:00.002-07:002008-12-01T02:01:14.165-07:00Our Lady of Guadalupe<img style="width: 274px; height: 470px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rT0zdlKeFfs/STOQMo_ihVI/AAAAAAAAAGU/6TDohEd3ce0/s320/guadalupe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274718135417734482" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A great sign appeared in the sky<br />a woman clothed with the sun<br />with the moon under her feet<br />and on her head a crown of twelve stars<br /><br />She was with child<br />and wailed aloud in pain<br />as she labored to give birth<br /><br />Then another sign appeared in the sky<br />it was a huge red dragon<br />with seven heads and ten horns<br />and on its heads were seven diadems<br /><br />Its tail swept away a third of the stars in the sky<br />and hurled them down to the earth<br />Then the dragon stood before the woman about to give birth<br />to devour her child when she gave birth<br /><br />She gave birth to a son, a male child<br />destined to rule all the nations with an iron rod<br /><br /><img style="width: 274px; height: 350px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rT0zdlKeFfs/STOQZ3gyaVI/AAAAAAAAAGc/S-MwwEBb3j0/s320/crownvirgin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274718362653583698" border="0" /><br /><br />Her child was caught up to God and his throne<br />the woman herself fled into the desert<br />where she had a place prepared by God<br />that there she might be taken care of<br />for twelve hundred and sixty days<br /><br />Then war broke out in heaven<br />Michael and his angels battled against the dragon<br />The dragon and its angels fought back<br />but they did not prevail<br />and there was no longer any place for them in heaven<br /><br />The huge dragon, the ancient serpent<br />who is called the Devil and Satan<br />who deceived the whole world<br />was thrown down to earth<br />and its angels were thrown down with it</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 274px; height: 420px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rT0zdlKeFfs/STOQy6cyOuI/AAAAAAAAAGk/jN2OgSCksnc/s320/st_michael+.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274718792938830562" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Now have salvation and power come,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Anointed.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">For the accuser of our brothers is cast out,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">who accuses them before our God day and night.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">They conquered him by the blood of the Lamb</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and by the word of their testimony;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">love for life did not deter them from death.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Therefore, rejoice, you heavens, and you who dwell in them.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But woe to you, earth and sea,<br />for the Devil has come down to you in great fury,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">for he knows he has but a short time."</span><br /><br />When the dragon saw that it had been thrown down to the earth<br />it pursued the woman who had given birth to the male child<br /><br />But the woman was given the two wings of the great eagle<br />so that she could fly to her place in the desert<br />where, far from the serpent, she was taken care of<br />for a year, two years, and a half-year<br /><br />The serpent however spewed a torrent of water out of his mouth<br />after the woman to sweep her away with the current<br /><br />But the earth helped the woman and opened its mouth<br />and swallowed the flood that the dragon spewed out of its mouth<br /><br />Then the dragon became angry with the woman<br />and went off to wage war against the rest of her offspring<br />those who keep God's commandments and bear witness to Jesus<br /><br />I took my position on the sand of the sea</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.usccb.org/nab/bible/revelation/revelation12.htm" target="blank">(Revelation: Chapter 12)</a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Death Wish Part 2 - Father Corapi - (Part 1 <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QOjTXastftI" target="blank">here</a>)</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RaL_B9PXy-I&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RaL_B9PXy-I&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Our Lady of Guadalupe @ <a href="http://www.sancta.org/" target="blank">Sancta</a> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">(complete comprehensive site)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Beautiful - Schubert's Ave Maria - Andrea Bocelli </span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_6Qu15k24SA&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_6Qu15k24SA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-65999612067845825662008-11-06T20:13:00.010-07:002008-11-06T22:37:50.385-07:00House Of Four Doors<span style="font-weight: bold;">Mystery spread it's cloak</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Across the sky</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We'd lost our way</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shadows fell from trees</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">They knew why</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/tree.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then through the leaves a light broke through</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A path lost for years lead us through</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />House of Four Doors</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I could live there forever</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />House of Four Doors</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Would it be there forever?</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-Dp29XacCe8&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-Dp29XacCe8&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Loneliness, the face of pilgrims eyes was known</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">As the door opened wide</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/hitler_youth.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Beauty they had found before my eyes to see</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">To the next door we came</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/redguard.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Love of music showed in everything we heard</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Through the third door where are we?</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/american_soviet_flag.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Enter in all ye who seek to find within</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">As the plaque said on the last door</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/dissident.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Walking thru that door</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Outside we came</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Nowhere at all</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Perhaps the answers here</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Not there anymore</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/massgrave.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Then in our hearts the light broke through</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A path lost for years is there in view</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/obamaad.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">House of Four Doors</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">You'll be lost now forever</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">House of Four Doors</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rest of life, life's forever.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yes, "The One" really is </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.wnd.com/index.php?pageId=79411" target="blank">The Manchurian Candidate</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Interview with Soviet intellectual dissident Yuri Bezmenov </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">(1985</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">)</span><br /><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/k1y56x87BDU0ZllBt1&related=1&canvas=medium"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/k1y56x87BDU0ZllBt1&related=1&canvas=medium" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Question - Why do we never get an answer...?</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yco6eN5KIOY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Yco6eN5KIOY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It's not the way that you say it when you do those things to me</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">It's more the way you really mean it when you tell me what will be</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/rome.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /></div>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-9570119580700569852008-10-13T15:54:00.008-06:002008-10-13T17:28:05.930-06:00Smoke Stack Lightnin'<img style="cursor: pointer; width: 350px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/train.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Oh, the train I ride on</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">All day it shines like gold</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Just like gold</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_LNt5J0Cesc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_LNt5J0Cesc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">There ain't nothin' you can tell me I don't already know</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I got a rocket in my pocket and I'm ready to go</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-s8JFTt-vo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-s8JFTt-vo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aw, the Moon Goin' Down, baby, North Star 'bout to shine</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lord, I ain't gonna stop ridin'...gotta get on down the line</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5YTAR8VHEpo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5YTAR8VHEpo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Highwater risin'...risin' night and day<br /><br />All the gold and silver bein' stolen away<br /><br />It's tough out there...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">highwater everywhere</span><br /><br /><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 350px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/money_train.gif" alt="" border="0" />Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-41354780236658578402008-09-21T03:14:00.005-06:002008-09-21T13:43:00.197-06:00When In Rome<img style="width: 300px;" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/peter1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">(Roman martyrdom: Caravaggio’s </span><i style="font-weight: bold;">The Crucifixion of St Peter, 1601</i><span style="font-weight: bold;">)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Scott Hahn, Founder, President and Chairman of the Board of The St. Paul Center for Biblical Theology, is one of the world's most successful Catholic authors and teachers.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He earned his Ph.D. in Systematic Theology from Marquette University, writing his dissertation on “Kinship by Covenant: A Biblical Theological Analysis of Covenant Types and Texts in the Old and New Testaments.” His scholarly writing has appeared in Journal of Biblical Literature, Catholic Biblical Quarterly, and Currents in Biblical Research.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Hahn is the general editor of the Ignatius Study Bible and is author or editor of more than 20 books, including Letter and Spirit: From Written Text to Living Word in the Liturgy (Doubleday 2005); Understanding the Scriptures (Midwest Theological Forum, 2005), and The Lamb’s Supper: The Mass as Heaven on Earth (Doubleday, 1999). He has more than one million books and tapes in print worldwide.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Hahn holds the Chair of Biblical Theology and Liturgical Proclamation at Saint Vincent Seminary in Latrobe, Pennsylvania and is Professor of Scripture and Theology at Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">In 2003, Dr. Hahn became the first lay person to hold the Pio Cardinal Laghi Chair for Visiting Professors in Scripture and Theology at the Pontifical College Josephinum in Columbus, Ohio. He has also lectured and served as adjunct faculty at a variety of diocesan and Vatican-sponsored seminaries and institutions of higher learning, including the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross and the Pontifical University, Regina Apostolorum, both located in Rome.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Scott Hahn - The Authority of the Church of Christ - Part 1 </span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KwckphF0jSk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KwckphF0jSk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dr. Scott Hahn - The Authority of the Church of Christ - Part 2 </span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/E2_H6yKY_dY&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/E2_H6yKY_dY&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.salvationhistory.com/mission/staff/hahncv.cfm" target="blank">Full Curriculum Vitae and Publications</a><br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.salvationhistory.com/library/scripture/AcademicArticles.cfm" target="blank">Academic Articles (full content)</a><br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.salvationhistory.com/bookstore/scott_books.cfm" target="blank">Books by Scott Hahn</a><br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.salvationhistory.com/bookstore/avhome.cfm" target="blank">Audio Visual Resources by Scott Hahn</a><br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.salvationhistory.com/mission/meditations.cfm" target="blank">Selected Short Essays on Biblical Theology</a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">When In Rome - Nickel Creek</span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ylslcF-fUeE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ylslcF-fUeE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-67358620700981781722008-07-17T00:04:00.028-06:002008-07-17T07:49:35.954-06:0014 Days In June<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">When the tide comes rushin' in </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Floodin' over everything</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Who can say what the sea's sweepin' in </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Or what it's washin' away</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >Frank Trainor / When The Tide Comes Rushin' In / Grace & Gravity</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">~Ebbtide~</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I came ashore in the dead of the night to rock once more the tiny Island cradle in the waves where I'd been born. I drove the dirty country miles from the nowhere point I'd nested and strayed on through the dawn to my hometown and the church where my father's funeral had been. The door opened minutes before I'd arrived. At long last my soul, sweet sojourn. Repose. Sanctuary.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">An old man, frail, barely noticeable, was sitting in a back pew, whispering his prayers. Otherwise we were both alone with God.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We nodded to each other respectfully. Who knows, he might have been a father. Praying for his son? Perhaps, he was a son.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I went directly over to the Tabernacle and knelt in silent prayer before our Lord. </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.franktrainor.com/spirit.htm" target="blank">I'm A Spirit Now</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> came to mind. He reassuringly intimated that Truth is Truth even if no one believes it and error is error even if everyone believes it. I know one thing for certain. God isn't true because I believe. I believe because God is Truth.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span>Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind, down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, the haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow, yes to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, with all memory and fate, driven deep beneath the waves, let me forget about today until tomorrow.-</span><span> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">[Bob Dylan]</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tomorrow is a long time and our days are so short, I guess we always want to extend our time 'cause we're in love with time.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I visited his grave as I would many times over 14 days in June.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">We would often drive out to the graveyard together when I was a young boy, to visit at his parent's and oldest brother's graves.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">All three family members had been killed in a single car accident in 1953. Dad never worried too much about the future after that 'cause as he always used to say, someday he'd be dead and gone.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And now, he's dead and gone.</span><br /><img style="width: 300px;" src="http://franktrainor.com/assets/trainor_family.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">~Walkin' The Dog~</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Back inside my lease I turned my wheels slowly into one of my old childhood neighborhoods. I've got many old neighborhoods in my memory as my family moved constantly when I was a boy calling 9 different addresses home between ‘54 &‘66. This was route ’66.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Navigating a labyrinth of memory haunting ghosts amidst deathly quiet early morning streets, I encountered an old musician friend back again in the hood and out walking his dog in the rain. I pulled up to the sidewalk and jumped out to greet him. He was surprised to see me as it’d been years since we'd caught up.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">He hadn't heard about my dad and expressed sympathies.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">His father was in his 80's too but doing fine he'd said.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">That same week the old man died.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">~Sisters Of Mercy~</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I felt prompted to visit Jesus again in the Blessed Sacrament so I called on the Sisters of Saint Martha Nuns at Mount Saint Mary's convent and they were only too happy to invite me to prayer in their chapel. I had first encountered the Living Truth through a young girl named Loretta Martin from Ann Arbor, Michigan who was speaking at a Charismatic Renewal retreat there years ago.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I hadn't been back to the convent since. But, in 1972, I had been dragged to that retreat kicking and screaming by my parents who were desperate to find anybody who could help get me off drugs.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">They got me to the sermon at the mount, but I decided before going that the only way I could possibly endure such a boring ordeal was to be in full acid peak mode which is where I was at when sweet Loretta Martin prayed over me and invoked God's power to restore my sanity. My world was transformed that night.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The full effects of that powerful acid along with the hard core damage of years of crystal meth abuse were instantly blown away and my life changed forever in that defining moment. I moved to Ann Arbor soon after to live and work among the community there which was founded by Loretta's brother Ralph Martin whom you may know from EWTN as well as through his Renewal Ministries.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">My own youthful fervor for the emotionally charged spirit of the Charismatic Renewal of the early 1970's has long since grown into a more mature, deeply abiding Catholic Faith, but the Holy Spirit gained many souls through that community, including mine, and I thank God every day for the many gifts I received in Ann Arbor.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">I got to thank Him again in the chapel at Mount Saint Mary's where His eternal life renewed its vital purposes in me 36 years ago.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">There were more troubled roads I had yet to travel through my difficult later life before finally getting hit upside the head hard enough to wake me up to my own self destructive ego appetites.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The willful spirit in me took awhile to settle down and it’s taken me a lifetime to learn how to master the cosmic dance steps, but at 54 now, the eldest and oldest soul of nine siblings, married 30 years this year, the father of two grown sons, sober for 24 years, I have to say, things turned out not too bad at all. My chops get to be tested under fire again soon too, so, all in all, I'm a lucky man.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">~I Am A Rock~</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Islanders. Not of the land. Not of the sea. But of the shore.</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 320px;" src="http://franktrainor.com/assets/frank_at_beach.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Here's where the ocean begins or here's where the shoreline ends</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">It's all in the way you point your view to these things </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Maybe I'm wrong or maybe you're not that strong</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Either way we'll drown cause it ain't the time </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">To learn how to swim / When the tide comes rushin' in</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" ><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Frank Trainor / When The Tide Comes Rushin' In / from the CD Grace & Gravity</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">~Ninety Mile Wind~</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">In Touch With The Mystery is the evolution of a blog begun three years ago called FRANKtalk which attempted in its limited scope to blend a variety of topics, including songwriting and the music business, under a banner of goodwill and personal opinion.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Not a dedicated blog for songwriters per se, but something more personal, and yet notionally akin to that sense of purpose at least.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">So, I'm pleased to mention that I've recently discovered a great new blog for songwriters which I will recommend very highly to anyone with a serious interest in the craft of songwriting from the perspectives of a pro who truly knows the score. The blog is called <a href="http://ninetymilewind.blogspot.com/" target="blank">Ninety Mile Wind</a> and it is, in my judgment, the best songwriting site you’re likely to read anywhere. Ninety Mile Wind is the brainchild of performing songwriter, Craig Bickhardt.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Craig established himself as a songwriter in the Nashville of the 1980’s eventually becoming a part of the successful recording trio Schuyler, Knobloch and Bickhardt, also known as SKB.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">SKB, it should be noted as well, should not be confused with the music publisher SBK [Swid, Bandier, Koppleman] a company I was actually signed to briefly in those same early days in Nashville.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Craig's had many cuts and much laudable success in his career.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">An experienced, knowledgeable craftsman with much to offer.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Success as a writer/artist takes real dedication and boundless determination to the creative enterprise. Craig Bickhardt has earned his stripes in Nashville and beyond. Ninety Mile Wind is essential and ought to be required reading for all songwriters.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Check it out and discover Craig's music at </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.craigbickhardt.com/" target="blank">www.CraigBickhardt.com</a>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-86168613333171313762008-07-09T19:02:00.011-06:002008-07-09T20:01:59.663-06:00Stone Cold Sober<object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-bkwz1iXjK4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-bkwz1iXjK4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Everybody in the funhouse<br />Says they want out<br />But we're taking our time<br />Cause we're in love with time<br /><br />Whole generations thinking of themselves<br />As infidels and pop stars<br />While the bomb loses patience<br />We line up and just lean against the bar<br /><br />Stone cold sober<br />Looking for bottles of love</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Caught in the headlights<br />Wide-eyed and ready to receive<br />We are the dead life<br />Locked in dog fights, lost in disbelief<br /><br />And these dark days<br />Make the nights seem brighter than they are<br />So while Fleet Street rolls and the moon glows<br />In the funhouse the fun starts<br /><br />Stone cold sober<br />Looking for bottles of love<br /><br />Born in the half-light<br />Of threats and bribes<br />In a hopeless porn parade<br />We get the dog's life, tidbits train us<br /><br />What to wear, what not to say<br />When you're footloose but you just feel limbless<br />Life gets in the way<br />So we get loaded or totally legless<br />But stay the same<br /><br />Stone cold sober<br />Looking for bottles of love<br /><br />We are the dead life<br /><br />We are the dead life<br /><br />We are the dead life<br /><br />We are the dead life<br /><br />We are the dead life</span><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kAIXC4f8HAg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kAIXC4f8HAg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John 6:53-58, 66-67 "So Jesus said to them, 'Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live forever.' After this many of his disciples drew back and no longer went about with him.<br /><br />Jesus said to the twelve, 'Will you also go away?'"</span><br /><br /><img style="width: 300px;" src="http://franktrainor.com/assets/funhouse.JPG" alt="" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >Stone Cold Sober - copyright - Del Amitri<br />Still In Love - copyright - Justin Currie</span>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-15615058400885824542008-05-17T00:26:00.029-06:002008-05-19T13:37:36.331-06:00Some Other Sucker's ParadeLike any organically created environment in the diverse blogosphere, this far flung planet of mine was born of an honest desire to reveal and share a personal vision. I’ve been a singer/songwriter for years so my primary motivations in choosing to approach communicating through this particular medium were not exactly new found impulses.<br /><br />It’s in my DNA to write and express myself musically in appreciations of so many spaces and places I’ve known in a lotta outta site worlds.<br /><br />Initial prospects with this site encompassed a hope that my efforts might resonate in ways that would be entertaining at least and yes, perhaps enlightening on some level. For the most part, that creative challenge has continued to inspire sufficient to satisfying my muse.<br /><br />The longer term picture was never as clearly determined in my mind. Things evolve and change and no one can predict where they'll be in projecting too far ahead with any ephemeral creative indulgences.<br /><br />What other explorers may discover and ultimately gain from their own voyages and experiences here is completely unknowable to me as well, as I simply have no idea what reading me or listening to my songs and the great songs of many cool artists I post up frequently, holds in real value to most, if anything at all. I dig it all personally.<br /><br />I've also discovered and learned many valuable things inhabiting this little corner of the universe, so I can only trust that it's a worthwhile experience at the very least for anyone surfing up past the shoreline for a deeper penetration and investigation of the misty atmosphere.<br /><br />I started out a blank black page glaring fearfully into higher mystical effusions that the darkness below can never begin to comprehend.<br /><br />I linked, blinked, thinked and cyber navigated innumerable galaxies of worldly knowledge...other worldly philosophical wisdoms...super nova pinnacle summits of false art and commerce...empires of dirt.<br /><br />In the end, like the little neighbor boy of Frankie Lee, who carried him to his rest, I just walked along, alone, with my guilt so well concealed and muttered underneath my breath…nothing is revealed.<br /><br />Eventually, the old man, FRANKtalk, arrived home from the forest, unwound his tales, and many gathered round to enjoy the stories and his songs and to wonder at a discourse rooted in the dust of ages.<br /><br />All was well. All that remained were the faces and the names of the wives and the sons and the daughters that would soon be brought into the warmth of ye old fireside hearth conversations, to reminisce about this, to be amazed about that, and pretty soon the net worthy numbers would increase and a black hole star would be born where no such gravity had ever been perceived before. All humanity would be graced by the deep scribal wisdoms of the fabled elder tribesman.<br /><br />Hmm…well, so much for pipe dreams and pallid reproductions.<br /><br />Everything changes. Everything passes away. Old stories give way to intrusions of new reality encroaching on all photo static vistas of our longed for earthly paradise otherwise sensed as entropic declination.<br /><br />Thus, it came to pass that the old man became new and discovered himself to be more truly alive in the shadowy black ink of his long dark night than he could ever have imagined himself to be in the old blinking lights of false new shining stars forever seeking to guide his eyes blindly to where it's at. Where it's at, is where it's always been at. Nowhere. No, what reverberated constantly within the new man's tremulous soul was his own deepening awareness that he had always been, and always would be, born anew only in the age old discovery that he was, and would forever be, In Touch With The Mystery.<br /><br />What the mystery reveals is multi-faceted. What it speaks to in all dimensions is integrity. Integrity is everything in case you missed it.<br /><br />So let the outer disorder dissolve yet again in its always fading echoes of dissonance and sonic cacophonies too brutal to subside.<br /><br />We are gathered here today to revel in excellence and greatness in the idiom of artful pop/rock song craftsmanship that will never die.<br /><br />Art that never follows the crowd...never seeks mainstream consensus …never needs another’s approval…it’s good to be Not Where It's At...<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ypwCSIEVo4I&hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed><br /><br />Yes, we're stuck forever in the eternal present now it seems, living in that long lost metaphysical reality known as Truth, Beauty & Unity.<br /><br />It's a tough job, but these days nobody else is gonna do it. So let me tell you what it is I know about this stuff. This gig is sanctified man.<br /><br />Now, I also know that some might think that a song about escape into drink would be a curse to one who had found the devil at the bottom of his glass, barely survived, and lived to tell the tale.<br /><br />And just for the record, I'm not sayin' I beat the devil, but I drank his beer for nothin' and then I stole his song. And glass…? Hell, I never bothered much with the social formalities...I just drank straight from the bottle…anyway, who cares what the song subject matter is...it's the matter that matters to the subject and the subject in this case is one of the greatest pop/rock master craftsmen of our age and whose talent is of the absolute utmost degree. His name is Justin Currie.<br /><br /><img style="width: 320px;" alt="" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/del_amitri.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Currie, with his former band Del Amitri, had a big hit record in the mid 90's with a song called <strong><span style="">Roll To Me</span></strong><b> </b>which had more hooks than a Mississippi trout line and we'll get to that in just a minute...but first, he's from Scotland, likes to drink a fair bit it seems and he thinks life is basically pointless. But truth itself is deeply inherent in a talent like Justin’s and actually encourages faith in life in deep spiritual ways...his songwriting talent and creative musical genius are on par with Lennon & McCartney and that’s a rare gift to share in any life.<br /><br />OK...let’s hear it…patience they say is a saintly virtue but hell why should I wait 'til the clouds go rain on some other sucker's parade.<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9k4lAW_o3RM&hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed><br /><br />Del Amitri created some of the grooviest pop/rock hit records in the music business if you ask me, so as promised, here's "Roll To Me"... and as I said, this song has more hooks than a Mississippi trout line.<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wa1IRGtp9Gw&hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed><br /><br />The clip displayed just below [Justin Currie 2007 - Part 3] is part of an extended exploration of Justin Currie's music and career history covered over 3 separate YouTube clips. This segment [part 3 of 3] contains recent songs like No Surrender and Still In Love and I just enjoy the interweaving of some raw video footage, narration and singing performance in this one that captures the spirit of the artist as well as his newer songs. Brilliant stuff, but it's essential to view all 3 of the clips in my opinion in order to get a more insightful glimpse into the music and mind of this very talented artist. I've added links to both of the other clips [Part 1 and Part 2] just below this video.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wQcZ-sCpC3M&hl=" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed><br /><br />View Justin Currie 2007 Part 1 <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRBr6Mlge-I" target="blank">here</a> and Part 2 <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-NY8PX64eU&feature=related" target="blank">here</a><br /><br />Justin Currie seems content enough to be inspired toward continuing artistic success, if not worldwide fame ever again, but his nihilistic view that life itself is pointless is maybe challenged best by the very talents he uses to express his special God given gifts. This is an artist whose work inspires me both as a songwriter and as a singer.<br /><br />I've grown to appreciate and respect his music more every day.<br /><br />Hope you enjoy!Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-42351378932762813772008-04-28T22:19:00.009-06:002008-04-28T23:52:58.138-06:00Hocus Pocus With Focus<img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: " alt="" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/focus1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div>An unusual rock single hit the American record charts in 1973.<br /><br />I was living and working in Ann Arbor, Michigan when "Hocus Pocus" by Focus, first impacted upon the collective conciousness. It was pure music madness. I loved it. Especially the yodelling. I'll never forget listening to this very strange bit of prog rock/pop insanity for the first time at a small cafe in Ann Arbor known as The Lamplighter. </div><div></div><div>Check out the amazing live TV performance of Hocus Pocus below...<br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bpV5InLw52U&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bpV5InLw52U&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />The members of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Focus_%28band%29" target="blank">Focus</a> as constituted in 1973 included founder and organist/vocalist/flautist, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thijs_van_Leer" target="blank">Thijs Van Leer </a>, guitarist, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jan_Akkerman" target="blank">Jan Akkerman </a>, drummer <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_van_der_Linden" target="blank">Pierre van der Linden</a> and bassist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bert_Ruiter">Bert Ruiter. </a><br /><br />You can read all about Focus and the individual players at their respective Wiki pages, but in the meantime, let's hear some truly great prog rock improv genius from this great legendary band.</div><div>The clip below is killer and did you know by the way that Alex & Eddie Van Halen were big Focus fans...they're Dutch boys themselves.<br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NUOstyNQ5J8&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NUOstyNQ5J8&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /></div><div>Another hit single for Focus was released in the UK the same year.<br /></div><div>This one is called Sylvia and what's special about this performance is that it's from the legendary UK program The Old Grey Whistle Test and includes a minute or two of Hocus Pocus near the end along with Thijs van Leer's wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.<br /><br />Which is a good idea at any time really when I think about it because, for instance, I may not blog again anytime real soon so in case you're reading this say 8 or 9 months from now and nothing new has been posted, ya'll have a great Yuletide Season and come back ya hear.<br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-v7LzOeTkfM&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-v7LzOeTkfM&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object></div>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-63602704220669417932008-02-10T17:18:00.000-07:002008-02-10T18:07:21.946-07:00Frank's Pool Hall<strong>You unlock this Door with the Key of Imagination<br />Beyond it is another Dimension...A Dimension of Sound<br />A Dimension of Sight...A Dimension of Mind...You're moving<br />Into a Land of both Shadow and Substance…of Things and Ideas<br />You've just crossed over into...The Twilight Zone<br /></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NzlG28B-R8Y&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NzlG28B-R8Y&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Hey Frank...the new punchboard come in yet...?<br /><br />Naw...you wanna play a couple a hands of Kings & Little ones...?<br /><br />Not right now...who's been around today...anybody?<br /><br />No…nobody...it’s been quiet...Hendry was in earlier...how many...?...no, wait a sec...yeah…he's still back there.<br /><br />Anyone around here even know how to play this game Frank..?<br /><br />I dunno...whatta ya holdin'...?<br /></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sY_hpASyBKg&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sY_hpASyBKg&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Who's playin' at the Gallow's Lounge tonight do you know...?<br /><br />Some old guy...one of the Black Mountain Boys...Full House!<br /><br />Shuffle...I heard it was some "Doc" Watson guy or somethin'...wonder what kind of music he plays...?<br /><br />He’s just some Hillybilly from the country...ya in or what?<br /></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XdUrg2Cqxdw&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XdUrg2Cqxdw&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Hey you remember that other Frank guy who used to come in here years ago, Frank...? You know, the singer...remember him?<br /><br />I remember one night he got the livin' shit punched out of him in the back alley right behind here...you musta heard about that…?<br /><br />Boxer put the boots to him for havin’ long hair & sunglasses...<br /><br />Guess he musta threatened Boxer and the boys with his different style...Five Aces...your deal…you must remember him, Frank...?<br /></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EsZpdUUdd3I&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EsZpdUUdd3I&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>That's it...I'm out...you grabbin' a table tonight or what...?<br /><br />Yeah I guess...give me a tray of snooker balls...and a new chalk too...thanks. Whatever happened to that guy...he left here years ago right...? Yeah...long time ago now...I heard he became some kinda professional something or other...not sure what...never fit in with us around here though...that's all I know...<a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/gun.htm" target="blank">arrogant punk</a>.<br /></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HZzY6KZuLUo&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HZzY6KZuLUo&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Well...that's it for me tonight...guess you're closin' up soon?<br /><br />Pretty soon I guess...yeah...you want some more coffee...?<br /><br />Sure Frank...hey, did I happen to mention that Johnny Mac and I<br />are gonna break in later after you close up and rob you blind?<br /><br />No you didn't...did I mention that I grabbed every OZ you had stuffed in that old white trash can over by the window and buried them in a secret location...? How do ya like me now, smart guy?<br /><br />Geez Frank...no wonder you manage to keep this pool hall runnin'<br />so tight...it's like you got eyes in the backa your freakin’ head.<br /><br />Yeah...somethin' like that... </strong><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r074ifr8NtE&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r074ifr8NtE&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-1530565820267900722008-01-30T22:48:00.000-07:002008-01-31T01:01:04.183-07:00Black Is Black<strong>New York Daily News and EMI Music Offer<br />Free Exclusive Music Downloads to Readers<br /><br />The New York Daily News, New York's most read newspaper, and EMI Music, the world’s leading independent music company, have announced an agreement to offer Daily News readers free music downloads from EMI's music catalog. The deal will give Daily News readers the opportunity to download three free songs of their choice from a selection of over 120,000 top tracks...</strong> <a href="http://poynter.org/forum/view_post.asp?id=13085">http://poynter.org/forum/view_post.asp?id=13085</a><br /><br /><strong><em>"Maybe not a big deal to file-traders, but in the world of major labels, it’s significant. Instead of saying no, instead of locking the music up, suddenly EMI is looking for a way to give back, to engage consumers in music, to hook them, TO GROW THEIR BUSINESS. If this is evidence of the changes Guy Hands has wrought and is wringing, I greatly approve. Instead of saying Prince giving away his CD with the newspaper is killing the industry, EMI is now seeing the wisdom in new marketing ideas. It’s a start."</em> - Bob Lefsetz</strong> - <a href="http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/">http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/</a><br /><br /><strong>And so the new "evolution" of the record business has been made manifest at EMI under new boss Guy Hands and his private equity stakeholders who are now willing and desperate enough it seems, to embrace a future that's already arrived. It's worth noting for the "if you can't beat 'em, join em" turning point it represents for a dying business monopoly that for more than a decade has failed to accept that its vastly outdated model was seriously in need of being overhauled, if not abandoned altogether. A kinder, gentler approach of relational trust with music consumers is therefore now being tested. As Bob Lefsetz says, it's a start.<br /></strong><br /><strong>And about time. It may, however, be too little too late.<br /><br />Black Is Black...they want their business back...<br /><br />It's grey it's grey...since you went away...oh oh...<br /><br />What can they do...cause ah ah ah ah ah...they're feelin' blue </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tqgwnv0HCk8&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Tqgwnv0HCk8&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>The Biz is feeling blue for sure and no doubt troubled by the fortunes they've seen slip from their greedy grasp into the Limewire night. But the business is finally waking up to the fact that re-establishing its relevancy and viability in today's new technologically advanced world while hoping to win back lost customers begins and ends with being attendant to real music firstly, and to music consumers priorities, not just to the myopic greed that has been the hallmark of the industry for decades.<br /><br />So they're hurtin' in the record biz these days, but so what...?<br /><br />As Paulie Walnuts from The Sopranos might say..."Hey...you've got your troubles...I got mine pal ok" But you'd better let Paulie know if The Fortunes ever come back...he'll want his juice. </strong><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HliDSRteWNk&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HliDSRteWNk&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Meanwhile, the conversation in music has changed dramatically this past year. This past 12 months alone we've seen incredible shrinkage in the primacy of powerful corporate brand entertainment media across the spectrum. The real dynamism is 100% on the side of creative artists whose futures will depend on circumventing legacy structures for bolder, uncharted pathways.<br /><br />As the ongoing effects of radical multi-media hybridization transforms culture, great music will nevertheless thrive as timeless important questions must always be asked, such as... "Hey, Carrie Ann, what's your game now, can anybody play? </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sgA4-bLcoN8&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sgA4-bLcoN8&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>If all else fails, and diehard music business beancounters eventually revert back to their default positions of fear and loathing while frantically awaiting their checks to come in the mail, they can always try writing and performing their own songs. In fact, I think a song about a postman bringing their checks and all those love letters from music fans is a cool idea so whadda ya say boys...grab your pens & WAIT...wait a minute…Mr. Postman. </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kw76_-4tFDw&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kw76_-4tFDw&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Youtube video clips: Los Bravos [Black Is Black]...The Fortunes [You've Got Your Troubles]...The Hollies [Carrie Ann]...and montage of The Beatles [Please, Mr. Postman]<br /></strong><br /><strong></strong>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-71302573568082139252008-01-06T21:35:00.000-07:002008-01-07T19:29:44.508-07:00Into The Mystery<div align="left"><em><strong>"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.<br />It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."</strong></em> </div><div align="right"><strong>- Albert Einstein</strong></div><div align="left"><br /><strong>To know what man can BE is to know that God IS.<br /><br />You needn't waste your time trying to prove whether God exists.<br /><br />Man -- yourself -- is the evidence you seek.<br /><br />You only need to discover the Real Man behind the mask.<br /><br />Happy the man who identifies firstly with his spiritual substance who thus always remains faithful to himself for he is no longer a distorted mask unaware of his true scope, as is the man enclosed only in accidentality.<br /><br />To be in touch with the mystery is to be in tune with Truth.<br /></strong><br /><strong>God's name is Mercy. That's where the Great Mystery begins.</strong> </div><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mhAyEZR4gUk&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mhAyEZR4gUk&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong><em>"The mind of modern man is a curious mixture of decayed Calvinism and diluted Buddhism; and he expresses his philosophy without knowing that he holds it. Catholics say what it is natural for us to say; but we know what we are saying; therefore it is assumed that we are saying it for effect. He says what it is natural for him to say; but he does not know what he is saying, still less why he is saying it. He is just as partisan; just as much depending on one doctrinal system as distinct from another. But he’s taken it for granted so often that he’s forgotten what it is.<br /><br />So his literature does not seem to him partisan, even when it is.<br /><br />But our literature seems to him propagandist, even when it isn't."</em></strong><br /><div align="right"><strong>- G. K. Chesterton</strong></div><p></p><div align="left"><strong>More indepth illuminations and insights surrounding the mystery can be discovered at my favorite daily blog site One Cosmos - <a href="http://onecosmos.blogspot.com/2007/10/wandering-wondering-and-blundering-into.html" target="blank">Wandering, Wondering and Blundering Into The Mystery</a>.</strong></div><strong><div align="left"><br />Full credit here today to <a href="http://onecosmos.blogspot.com/" target="blank">Gagdad Bob</a> for his brilliant insights, immutable Raccoon Logic, and cosmic supernova revelations which inform most of the thrust of today's "mystery" musings. </div><div align="left"><br />And now, I hear another Bob a-knockin'...think I'll let him in... </strong></div><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m2feoIM9baI&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m2feoIM9baI&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-86885044414428138612008-01-01T13:48:00.000-07:002008-01-02T00:34:33.860-07:00Time Of The Season<strong>It's the time of the season w</strong><strong>hen the love runs high </strong><br /><strong>In this time, give it to me easy </strong><br /><strong>And let me try with pleasured hands</strong><br /><br /><strong>To take you and the sun to promised lands </strong><br /><strong>To show you every one </strong><br /><strong>It's the time of the season for loving </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>What's your name? Who's your daddy?<br />Is he rich like me? Has he taken any time? </strong><br /><strong>Time to show you what you need to live...</strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZQMz0b-c54A&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZQMz0b-c54A&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Father McKenzie…<br />Writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear...<br />No one comes near...<br /><br />Look at him working...<br />Darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there....<br />What does he care...?</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>All the lonely people...where do they all come from?</strong><br /><strong>All the lonely people...where do they all belong?</strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/boc7rnhkLAk&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/boc7rnhkLAk&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Time, time, time, see what's become of me<br />While I looked around for my possibilities<br />I was so hard to please<br />But look around…leaves are brown</strong><br /><strong>And the sky is a hazy shade of winter<br /><br />Hear the salvation army band<br />Down by the riverside it’s bound to be a better ride<br />Than what you've got planned<br />Carry your cup in your hand<br />And look around…leaves are brown now<br />And the sky is a hazy shade of winter<br /><br />Hang on to your hopes my friend<br />Thats an easy thing to say but if your hopes should pass away<br />Simply pretend that you can build them again<br />Look around…the grass is high<br />The fields are ripe…its the springtime of my life<br /><br />Seasons change with the scenery<br />Weaving time in a tapestry<br />Won't you stop and remember me<br />At any convenient time<br />Funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts<br />Of unpublished rhyme…drinking my vodka and lime<br /><br />But look around, leaves are brown now<br />And the sky is a hazy shade of winter<br /><br />Look around, leaves are brown…<br />Theres a patch of snow on the ground... </strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wSd4QJBEMvk&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wSd4QJBEMvk&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><strong>Ave Maria<br />Gratia plena<br />Maria, gratia plena<br />Maria, gratia plena<br />Ave ave dominus<br />Dominus tecum<br />In mulieribus<br />Et benedictus<br />Et benedictus<br />Fructus ventris<br />Ventris tui Jésus<br />Ave Maria<br />Ave Maria<br />Sancta Maria<br />Maria mater Dei<br />Maria mater Dei<br />Ora ora pronobis<br />Peccatoribus<br />Nunc et nunc et in hora<br />Nunc et in hora mortis<br />Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae<br />In hora mortis nostrae<br />Ave Maria</strong><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_6Qu15k24SA&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_6Qu15k24SA&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><p></p>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-14146028380656803632007-12-22T17:43:00.000-07:002007-12-22T21:28:48.202-07:00Pockets Full Of Paradise<em><strong>The Light Shines In The Darkness<br />And The Darkness Does Not Comprehend It<br /></strong></em><br />A well-known artist was reported to have proclaimed not long ago that “the future of art is perversion.” That is the devil’s prophecy.<br /><br />And no doubt the devil’s intent.<br /><br />When one looks at the direction art has taken in recent times from fine art, to modern art, to cinematic art, to music, it seems that this situation has indeed been coming true. However, art belongs to God, and He is going to take art back. Art is a basic form of prophecy, and there is a beauty and an anointing about to come upon a host of holy artists whose prophetic art will burn away the fog that is now settled over it, just like the sun burns away the fog in the morning.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/crimson.htm" target="blank">The Crimson Fireball</a> [from the upcoming acoustic songs collection <strong>Pockets Full Of Paradise</strong> by artist/songwriter <strong>Frank Trainor</strong>]<br /><br /><p align="left"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/frank3peiaaaa2.jpg" border="0" /></p>In recent decades, evil has gripped almost every form of art igniting an obnoxious and perverted race to the bottom while plummeting art and creative artists deeper & deeper into darkness. Art has followed step by step the fall into confusion, meaninglessness, and darkness of soul that philosophy has fallen to. That will always be the result of worshiping anything or anyone rather than the one true God. But just as art and philosophy have descended, ascension of both will come.<br /><br />Artists who worship the one true God, who keep their souls purified by the singleness of purpose to glorify the Lord, will be given greater power. They will become like prisms that refract the light of heaven giving color & meaning to the world. As deep as art has plummeted into darkness, the light that is coming will be even greater.<br /><br />Beauty, meaning, and the elevation of all that is good will soon be revealed in extraordinary visions of artists. The music we listen to sows into our souls & can set the course of our lives for good or evil.<br /><br />This is the time when everything that has been sown in man, the good and the evil, the light and the darkness, will come to full maturity. It is obvious that the darkness is coming to maturity in every art form, but soon we will see the light coming to maturity in every art form. Even so, light will be victorious and overshadow the darkness because light is more powerful. When we open our shades at night darkness does not come into the room. The light that is in the house shines out into the darkness. Because light is stronger than darkness and we are about to see light soon begin to overpower the darkness that is in art. Because we are approaching the end of the age, the time of full maturity, the light that is about to be released through music and the arts will be unprecedented in its true power.<br /><br />This does not mean that the light about to be released through art is going to be more popular than the darkness. Remember, when the Light Himself came to live on the earth and walked among us, men “loved darkness more than the light”. Even so, the Lord is merciful beyond comprehension & He is going to give His greatest light during times of greatest darkness so that all will have the chance to see it and turn to it. He will not force, but He will give men an opportunity to see His light. It is not our job to make men see the light or want the light, but it is our job simply to walk in the light and reveal it.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/spirit.htm" target="blank">I'm A Spirit Now</a> [from the upcoming acoustic songs collection <strong>Pockets Full Of Paradise</strong> by artist/songwriter <strong>Frank Trainor</strong>]<br /><br /><a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/gates.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.franktrainor.com/assets/gates.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Music artists, like all artists who are inspired by the Holy Spirit, have a similar role like prophets and priests to reveal Him to the people. Indeed the first person in the Bible who was said to be “filled with the Spirit” was an artisan, and not a priest, a king, or a prophet.<br /><br />To reveal the Lord is the most basic purpose for art, and not only is it the highest form of art, but it is the only true fulfillment that an artist will ever have. Anything else will only lead to a base reduction or perversion of the gift. The true artist is the highest embodiment of the good, the true and the beautiful. So, pass me over if you can.<br /><br /><p></p>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-81353733264274050512007-10-25T20:37:00.000-06:002007-10-25T22:40:51.145-06:00The Approach Of Midnight<strong>To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,<br />You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.<br />In order to arrive at what you do not know,<br />You must go by the way of ignorance.<br />In order to possess what you do not possess,<br />You must go by the way of dispossession.<br />In order to arrive at what you are not,<br />You must go through the way in which you are not.<br />And what you do not know is the only thing you know.<br />And what you own is what you do not own.<br />And where you are is where you are not. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WbqiuKrJ-pM&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WbqiuKrJ-pM&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>The saint gives confession a certain quality that it receives only through him, a quality so precious that one might even believe the Lord had precisely this quality in mind when he instituted confession. Precisely the saint who has sinned the least could make the perfect confession: the confession of his distance from God, a confession that also includes all sinners. The confession of the saints, more than any other, is ecclesial and social. It is that confession in which the other sinners participate. It is indeed a fruit so pure that it may not be consumed by one person alone. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qrRJV5vFXDI&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qrRJV5vFXDI&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>I entered into unknowing, and remained unknowing, transcending all knowledge. I entered into unknowing, yet when I saw myself there, without knowing where I was, I understood great things. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>I will not say what I felt for I remained in unknowing.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Transcending all knowledge. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>That perfect knowledge was of peace and holiness held at no remove in profound solitude; It was something so secret that I was left stammering, transcending all knowledge. So overwhelmed, so absorbed and withdrawn, that my senses were left deprived of all their sensing, and my spirit was given an understanding, while not understanding, transcending all knowledge.<br /></strong><br /><strong>He who truly arrives there cuts free from himself; all that he knew before now seems worthless, and his knowledge so soars that he is left in unknowing, transcending all knowledge. The higher he ascends the less he understands, because the cloud is dark which lit up the night; whoever knows this remains always in unknowing, transcending all knowledge. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>This knowledge in unknowing is so overwhelming that wise men disputing can never overthrow it, for their knowledge does not reach to the understanding of not understanding, transcending all knowledge. And this supreme knowledge is so exalted that no power of man or learning can grasp it; he who masters himself will, with knowledge in unknowing, always be transcending. And if you should want to hear: this highest knowledge lies in the loftiest sense in the essence of God; this is a work of His mercy, to leave one without understanding, t</strong><strong>ranscending all knowledge.<br /><br /></strong><strong></strong><strong>So people get ready there's a train a'comin'...you don't need no ticket you just get onboard...it's a mystical train that leaves just before midnight...it'll set your spirit free as it rolls steadily along the track to that place where you are not...a Special Streamline. </strong><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fgQudd8zBSc&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fgQudd8zBSc&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>To travel wisely and rightly toward the highest destiny of your immortal soul you've got to have true power and dominion over the spirits. I'm doin' it once, and once is enough. Looking into things, the truth of things, is really seeing like seeing into metal and making it melt, seeing it for what it was and revealing it for what it was with hard words and vicious insight. I was born like this, I had no choice. I was born with the gift of a golden voice and twenty-seven angels from the great beyond. </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>They tied me to this table right here in the tower of song.</strong><br /><br /><object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYJf4J7VBaY&rel=1"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYJf4J7VBaY&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Now I bid you farewell, I don't know when I'll be back</strong><br /><strong><br />They're moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track<br /><br />But you'll be hearin' from me baby long after I'm gone<br /><br />I'll be speakin to you sweetly from my window in the tower of song<br /><br /><br /></strong>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-29128372298342658052007-10-08T17:41:00.000-06:002007-10-08T18:08:16.322-06:00Coffee and CigarettesIt was getting near time to meet up with Iggy Jim down at the old Paradise restaurant. I had been busy all morning collecting cold wet coins from milk bottles down on tobacco road after a long night of trying to sleep on the heated air grates around the VG hospital so the warmth of my usual hangout for a few hours would be blessed relief. I'd be a bit late but I figured Iggy Jim would be cool and that he'd understand if I told him how busy a medical morning it had been.<br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K6Mw6b1T50U"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K6Mw6b1T50U" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br />Back at diggers dive later that night Johnny Mac and I were talking about our favorite records of the moment and he said he thought that <strong><em>Ain't Nobody's Business But</em> My <em>Own</em></strong> by <strong>Taj Mahal</strong> had really captured the liberating essence of the times in which we lived.<br /><br />That was true enough and I dug that song myself, but I said I thought that Edgar Winter's version of J. D. Loudermilk's <strong><em>Tobacco</em> <em>Road</em></strong> was more poignant and more graphically descriptive of the reality of our dirt poor lives no matter how crazy champagne or cocaine made us.<br /><br />Johnny Mac said he couldn't argue with that as indeed he also identified very personally with <strong>Tobacco Road</strong>.<br /><br />Since we were discussing this in a diggers dive, I decided to search around until I found that record which surely had to be somewhere in the recovery room upstairs from the shooting gallery. It was bound to be in that rambling stack. Sure enough, Max the junkie had it stashed underneath his harpoon gun…now was it track 5 or 6..?<br /><br />Just copped this new needle...man, talk about blessed relief...<br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jHR0LqoioEw"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jHR0LqoioEw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br />So was it track 5 or track 6...? I can't remember...doesn't matter… actually just reminds me of <strong>25 or 6 to 4</strong> by Chicago Transit Authority and our days and nights in Amsterdam in 1969. I've never actually been to Amsterdam but I've been to 1969...pretty much the same thing...William Burroughs was "Rat Tat Tat Katalli" [with a gun] and beauty was a blond sheathed, lace draped waif in deer skin boots with a bounty on her potions and a seventeen year old vision to sell.<br /><br />And we were buyin' it all in quantity.<br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2y5-DY5oU4"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q2y5-DY5oU4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><strong><em>Waiting for the break of day</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Searching for something to say</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Flashing lights against the sky</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Giving up I close my eyes</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Sitting cross-legged on the floor</em></strong><br /><strong><em>25 or 6 to 4</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>Staring blindly into space</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Getting up to splash my face</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Wanting just to stay awake</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Wondering how much I can take</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Should I try to do some more</em></strong><br /><strong><em>25 or 6 to 4</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>Feeling like I ought to sleep</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Spinning room is sinking deep</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Searching for something to say</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Waiting for the break of day</em></strong><br /><strong><em>25 or 6 to 4</em></strong><br /><strong><em>25 or 6 to 4<br /></em></strong>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-50599254803499766552007-09-28T23:20:00.000-06:002007-09-29T00:56:06.107-06:00The Old Man Down The RoadBlackie the dog was a weary old mutt with mournful brown eyes and a cold wet nose. He was my pet dog as far as I was concerned but he actually belonged to our neighbor Mrs. White who lived upstairs from my family in an old tenement building that we inhabited briefly when I was very young. Mrs. White also happened to have a huge black cat named Smokey that I was convinced was the real life model for the old electric <a href="http://www.artnit.com//uploads/nitsche_Artwork.picture/IMG_47101.jpg" target="blank">Black Cat cigarette sign</a> that swung uneasily in the wind above the barbershop on the corner and which loomed eerily large like the <a href="http://www.chrismiles.net/images/magic%20realism/cheshire_cat.jpg" target="blank">Cheshire Cat</a> of Wonderland below our living room window.<br /><br />Despite such haunting images I loved dogs and cats of all animals and had once expressed my concern about Blackie’s very cold wet nose to Mrs. White on one of her regular visits with our family. I felt this meant that Blackie must have been sick. Mrs. White laughed and told me that it was actually a sign of good health for a dogs nose to be cold and wet and that in fact if it ever were to go dry it might mean he was indeed actually sick. I loved old Blackie and didn't want him to be sick so it became routine for me to check to ensure that his nose was always cold and wet whenever we met as a sign between us that I really cared for him and wanted him to be healthy and well.<br /><br />He'd wag his tail and bark his approval before licking my face off.<br /><br />Good old Blackie.<br /><br />One day his nose felt very dry on my skin as I threw my arms around his huge neck to give him a hug. Mrs. White was much quieter than her usual self that day and soon took Blackie back home but I knew something was wrong. I knew he must be very sick and that it likely wouldn't be too long before our visits would be coming to an end. My gut instinct told me it was the end of the road for dear old Blackie.<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G4nwm7NiMak"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G4nwm7NiMak" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><strong><em>He take the thunder from the mountain<br />He take the lightning from the sky</em></strong><br /><strong><em>He bring the strong man to his begging knee<br />He make the young girls mama cry<br /></em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hide, you got to jump and run;</em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hidey-hide, the old man is down the road.</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>He got the voices speak in riddles<br />He got the eye as black as coal</em></strong><br /><strong><em>He got a suitcase covered with rattlesnake hide<br />He stands right in the road</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hide, you got to jump up run away;</em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hidey-hide, the old man is down the road.</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>He make the river call your lover<br />He make the barking of the hound</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Put a shadow cross the window<br />When the old man comes around</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hide, you got to jump and run again;</em></strong><br /><strong><em>You got to hidey-hidey-hide, the old man is down the road.</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Coast To Coast Fever</span></strong><br /><br />Wanderlust finally consumed me for good by the age of 17. Rolling down the highway on a Greyhound bus bound for every terminal stop along the industrial rust belt line toward the Bible belt and liberation was the epitome of pure adventure and joy to my wayfaring sense.<br /><br />I'd wanted to set out many times to discover the world beyond my little down east doorstep but life was beckoning more urgently now to feel the asphalt surrender beneath the steady hum of freedom's belted wheels with the smell of Detroit diesel filling my nostrils.<br /><br />Before my nose dried up it would be my purpose in life to dedicate myself to my ever-deepening love and appreciation for an American hearts quest beyond a burning dream wish vision for my restless soul.<br /><br />So, I hit the road Jack and I never came back no more.<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/l41BKP4uuZ8"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l41BKP4uuZ8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br />Somewhere along the way my truest dreams became reality and I learned exactly what it means to follow where the heart leads. A man must be brave. His mind must be informed by reason and by revelation as to how you get from there to here and home again.<br /><br />It's a narrow path and must be freely chosen as whom but a fool would venture toward a far horizon without knowing first the way.<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v8lTBcuCH-w"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v8lTBcuCH-w" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><strong><em>I’m passing sleeping cities</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Fading by degrees<br />Not believing all I see to be so</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>I’m flyin’ over backyards</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Country homes and ranches</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Watching life between the branches below</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>And it’s hard to say</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Who you are these days</em></strong><br /><strong><em>But you run on anyway</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Don’t you baby?</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>You keep running for another place</em></strong><br /><strong><em>To find that saving grace</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>I’m moving on alone over ground that no one owns</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Past statues that atone for my sins</em></strong><br /><strong><em>There’s a guard on every door</em></strong><br /><strong><em>And a drink on every floor</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Overflowing with a thousand amens</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>And it’s hard to say</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Who you are these days</em></strong><br /><strong><em>But you run on anyway</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Don’t you baby?</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>You keep running for another place</em></strong><br /><strong><em>To find that saving grace</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Don’t you baby?</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>You’re rolling up the carpet</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Of your father’s two-room mansion</em></strong><br /><strong><em>No headroom for expansion no more</em></strong><br /><strong><em>And there’s a corner of the floor</em></strong><br /><strong><em>They’re telling you is yours</em></strong><br /><strong><em>You’re confident but not really sure</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>And it’s hard to say</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Who you are these days</em></strong><br /><strong><em>But you run on anyway</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Don’t you baby?</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>You keep running for another place</em></strong><br /><strong><em>To find that saving grace</em></strong><br /><br /><strong><em>Don’t you baby?</em></strong>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-7006533351232994912007-09-18T22:48:00.000-06:002007-09-19T22:25:32.362-06:00Honky Tonk Hero<div align="left"><strong>According to legend, it was at Willie Nelson's Fourth of July picnic when country music star Waylon Jennings drunkenly promised a nobody named Billy Joe Shaver that he'd record a whole album of his songs. Apparently it wasn't until Shaver threatened physical violence on Jennings (in front of a Nashville studio full of people) that he finally made good on his promise, although Jennings had only recently been granted full artistic control by RCA. The result was a stunning achievement: 1973's Honky Tonk Heroes was the defining record of the anti-Nashville Outlaw movement--the term came after the album--and a cornerstone in country music history. Featuring bare-bones production and plainspoken, hard-nosed lyrics that celebrated personal freedoms and simple pleasures, the record was a far cry from the demure Nashville Sound. In each other, Waylon Jennings and Billy Joe Shaver had found a kindred spirit, and together they rewrote the country rulebook. --Marc Greilsamer </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong>Since my last post [<strong><em>A Rose Of A Different Name</em>]</strong> I've been enjoying with great pleasure many of the legendary songs and stories of famed Nashville outlaw <strong>Billy Joe Shaver</strong> who deserves so much more of a tribute than space permitted in my previous post so without further adieu let me remedy that situation by simply inviting you to meet and hear the artist and the man who is regarded by many as one of the greatest original songwriters in country music history. Here's <strong>Billy Joe Shaver</strong> performing <strong>Black Rose</strong> on Austin City Limits [circa 1984]<br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OT3xxoyYlr4"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OT3xxoyYlr4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><strong>Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, George Jones,</strong> and <strong>The Allman Brothers</strong>, among many other artists, have recorded Billy Joe Shaver's songs.<br /><br />My previous post included the same YouTube clip and follows my story of hanging out with Billy Joe in Nashville years ago. The song includes the cool hillbilly hook line 'a rose of a different name'. <strong>Black Rose</strong> appears on the 1973 <strong>Waylon Jennings</strong> album <strong><a href="http://www.amazon.com/o/ASIN/B00000J7AQ/002-0615648-4833641?SubscriptionId=19BAZMZQFZJ6G2QYGCG2" target="blank">Honky Tonk Heroes</a></strong>. 11 of the 12 songs on that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honky_Tonk_Heroes" target="blank">record</a> were written by <strong>Billy Joe Shaver.</strong><br /><br />Go ahead...I'll wait here while you view the <strong>Black Rose</strong> clip…<br /><br /><strong>OK now that you're back...let us pray...you say the devil made you do it the first time...the second time you done it on your own …alright so repent and say amen...Get Thee Behind Me Satan...<br /></strong><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="="><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RFV4Vm-qMsc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://takecountryback.wordpress.com/2007/08/22/the-ballad-and-ballads-of-billy-joe-shaver/" target="blank">The Ballad, and ballads, of Billy Joe Shaver</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.utexas.edu/utpress/books/shahon.html" target="blank">Billy Joe Shaver, Honky Tonk Hero</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.to-music.ca/bjs.htm" target="blank">Billy Joe Shaver, A Life In Song </a><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><strong>Freedom's Child</strong><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Copyright 2002 Billy Joe Shaver</span><br /><br /><strong>At the breaking of the dawn<br />Day is born again<br />Just another missing link<br />In an endless chain<br />Filling up the empty space<br />Left by one who's gone<br />Freedom's child was born today<br />Singing Freedom's Song<br /></strong><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UBnyGnCfolw"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UBnyGnCfolw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object></p>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-67939613026907032692007-09-12T20:19:00.000-06:002007-09-15T14:50:19.197-06:00A Rose Of A Different NameSome of the most incredible days of my life were spent hanging out in Nashville during CMA Awards week events several years ago with many of the greatest songwriters in Country Music history. Meeting songwriting legends like <strong><a href="http://www.musesmuse.com/int-newbury.html" target="blank">Mickey Newbury</a></strong> and <strong><a href="http://www.billyjoeshaver.com/" target="blank">Billy Joe Shaver</a></strong> is cool enough in anybody's book, but actually hanging out with both those guys and playing songs with them was truly special indeed.<br /><br /><strong>Mickey Newbury</strong> and I were deep into a conversation at a Music Row event when somebody got my attention by asking me if I was from Canada. He had overheard my conversation with Newbury and had noticed my accent. The individual asking me that particular question was songwriter <strong>Stewart Harris</strong> who said he was quite familiar with Canada and that in fact he had once spent an entire summer gigging in Prince Edward Island playing music on alternate week-ends at a small pub in Summerside called The Brothers Two. We were both stunned and amazed to discover that I’d been the performer playing the other weekends at that very same pub during that same summer.<br /><br />I was born and raised on Prince Edward Island and performed there often when I was younger, but still, it's a small world sometimes.<br /><br />My good friend and former songwriting colleague <strong><a href="http://franktrainor.blogspot.com/2006/12/richest-man-on-earth.html" target="blank">Jim McBride</a></strong> wrote one of my favorite <strong>Waylon Jennings</strong> singles from the mid 80's called <strong>Rose In Paradise</strong> and Stewart Harris is actually the co-writer on that song as well. You recall that song. It’s one of Waylon’s biggest hits.<br /><br />Here's a live version of it with a few of Waylon's pals joining him. [Chet Atkins, Mark Knopfler, The Everly Brothers & Emmy Lou Harris]<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aUt_gsGbkto" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />But getting back to <strong>Mickey Newbury</strong> and <strong>Billy Joe Shaver</strong>. We had a great time just hanging out around Music Row with Mickey tellin' his stories and Billy Joe expressing amazement and gratitude just for still being alive. At one point, Billy Joe asked me to play him a bunch of my songs, so we sat down - just the two of us - in the music publishers little 16 track studio and I played for about an hour while the great Billy Joe Shaver sat directly in front of me listening intently to every word of my songs...he then stood up and looked at me very serious saying..."man, you're tough...those are great fucking songs".<br /><br />The picture evaporates at this scene as the nod of his respect began to blend with his famous titles and I started to hear his songs almost playing out loud in my head and it just drifted me away to a whole different dimension...<em>I'm just an old chunk of coal, but I'm gonna be a diamond someday...I've been to Georgia on a fast train honey</em>… Then, the Jim McBride /Stewart Harris song from Waylon Jennings kicked in and <strong>Rose In Paradise</strong> met <strong>A Rose Of A Different Name...<br /></strong><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OT3xxoyYlr4" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />Speaking of Waylon, he says he hopes ya'll liked him and everything, but even if you didn't, he will still kick your ass. Dead or alive…Hoss.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/V13y7n49yfU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />Alright, so <strong>Mickey Newbury</strong> finally...which will probably have you asking yourself, was Mickey Newbury one of the most talented songwriter/artists to ever draw breath…? Well, let's see now, he wrote <strong>An American Trilogy</strong> for <strong>Elvis Presley</strong> as well as the big Kenny Rogers & The First Edition hit <strong>Just dropped In To See What Condition My Condition Was In</strong> among many other classics...so, hearing <strong>Mickey Newbury</strong> singing his own stunning version of <strong>An American Trilogy</strong>, I'd have to say...yeah...he most definitely was...<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RiTjElq5Xjs" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br /><br /><em><strong>"Music has never been anything but an escape from depression for me. How many people have listened to my songs and thought, 'He must have a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a pistol in the other.' Well, I don't. I write my sadness. I call it robbing the dragon. I write what I think. If you don't write what you think, what you write you become." - Mickey Newbury</strong></em>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-54240892514724668312007-08-18T23:18:00.000-06:002007-08-30T20:54:05.534-06:00Just Ain't My Cross To Bear<strong>I have not come...no...to testify<br />About our bad, bad misfortune<br />And I ain't here wonderin' why<br />I'll live on and I'll be strong<br />Cause it just ain't my cross to bear<br /><br />I sat down and wrote you a long letter<br />It seems just like the other day<br />Said...sure as the sunrise baby<br />Tomorrow I'll be up and on my way<br />I'll live on and try to be strong<br />Cause it just ain't my cross to bear<br /><br />But in the end baby<br />Long towards the end of your road<br />Don't reach out for me babe<br />Cause I'm not gonna carry your load<br />I'll live on and I'll be strong<br />Cause it just ain't my cross to bear </strong><br /><strong><br /></strong><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jLuVp-Agzq4"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jLuVp-Agzq4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11402011.post-26594856762954187802007-08-15T23:24:00.000-06:002007-08-17T22:54:43.823-06:00A Few Good Bluesmen<strong>Bluesman:</strong> <em>"You want answers?"<br /></em><br /><strong>Music Biz Accountant:</strong> <em>"I think we are entitled to them!"</em><br /><br /><strong>Bluesman:</strong> <em>"You want answers?!"</em><br /><br /><strong>Music Biz Accountant:</strong> <em>"I want the truth!"</em><br /><br /><strong>Bluesman:</strong> <em>"You can't handle the truth!!! Son, we live in a world that requires true blues soul energy. And that energy must be created by people with elite talents and special skills.<br /></em><br /><em>Who's going to play it? You?<br /></em><br /><em>You, Mr. Clear Channel radio man?<br /></em><br /><em>We have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.<br /><br />You scoff at the rhythm and blues roster and you curse our deep spiritual roots. </em><em>You have that luxury.<br /></em><br /><em>You have the luxury of not knowing what we know: That while the cost of music business promotions for our niches are prohibitive, soul drives energy. And my very existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, drives LOYALTY! You don't want to know the truth</em> <em>because deep down in places you don't talk about at ASCAP parties and corporate A&R meetings ... you want me on that wall.<br /></em><br /><em>You NEED me on that wall!<br /></em><br /><em>We use words like mojo, lost highway, lovesick, sweet little angel, woke up this mornin', trouble in mind and trouble no more.<br /></em><br /><em>We use these words as the backbone of a life spent loving and perpetuating something priceless and irreplaceable.<br /></em><br /><em>You use them as a punch line!<br /></em><br /><em>I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to people who rise and sleep under the very blanket of soul I provide and then question the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a guitar and give us your soul and some pure blue magic. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!"<br /></em><br /><strong>Music Biz Accountant:</strong> <em>"Did you expense the sun shade?"</em><br /><br /><strong>Bluesman:</strong> <em>"I did the job I was hired to do."</em><br /><br /><strong>Music Biz Accountant:</strong> <em>"Did you expense the sun shade?!"</em><br /><br /><strong>Bluesman:</strong> <em>"You're goddamn right I did!"</em><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rn2GHHTKmBA"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rn2GHHTKmBA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><strong>Don't want no one tellin' me<br />I got to write over my own talent<br />Play this guitar any way I want to<br />I don't need an amplifier</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Everybody's gettin' tired</strong><br /><strong>Pushin' buttons on their radio</strong><br /><strong>Where was it wrote down</strong><br /><strong>They got to cram it down our throats</strong><br /><br /><strong>I don't give a damn about the hook lines</strong><br /><strong>They make me feel like a fish</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Hook this...<br /><br />Wear my hair long down to my hipbone<br />If that's the way I feel<br />Wear my sunshade even in the nighttime<br />Ride my woman in a Coupe De Ville<br /><br />I might wanna rock<br />I'll play the blues all night long<br /><br />I'm in this thing for life<br />I didn't come here for just one song<br /><br />They can't put the music in a small bag<br />Tellin' us the way that I feel</strong><br /><br /><strong>Don't want no one tellin' me</strong><br /><strong>I got to write over my own talent<br />Play this guitar any way I want to<br />Lightnin' Hopkins was a friend of mine</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Don't let no one boogie witch your woogie</strong><br /><strong>mmm yes...keepin' it alive</strong><br /><strong>Play your music any way you want to</strong><br /><strong>Don't let nobody change your mind<br /></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">Rebellion: Tony Joe White [from the album The Beginning]</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong><br />Check out legendary Tony Joe White at <a href="http://www.tonyjoewhite.com/" target="blank">www.tonyjoewhite.com</a><br /><br />Tony Joe White once gave me the shirt off his back…his jacket too...and also cooked us up a big feed of fresh crappie on the BBQ one night on a personal visit to his home…Tony Joe was a Combine Music writer when I was signed to Combine in 1987. Tony Joe’s wife Leanne is a photographer and a songwriter herself so I hired her to shoot some publicity photos for me and since I didn't have any cool threads at the time, she got some from Tony Joe for me to wear in the pictures she took. Those are my own sunglasses however...I have always been a sunglasses kind of guy...in fact...I wear my sunshade even in the nighttime...ride my woman in a Coupe De Ville.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 250px" alt="" src="http://www.keefetrainor.com/assets/nashville_shot.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://www.franktrainor.com/" target="blank">Frank Trainor</a> photo by Leanne White Nashville 1987<br />Jacket and shirt graciously provided by <strong>Tony Joe White</strong><br /><br />I caught <strong>B.B. King</strong> with special guest the great <strong>Howlin’ Wolf</strong> in Ypsilanti Michigan in 1972 so here’s <strong>B.B. King</strong> with <strong>Eric Clapton</strong>, <strong>Buddy Guy</strong>, <strong>Albert Collins</strong> and <strong>Jeff Beck</strong> doing <strong>Sweet Little Angel</strong> together at The Apollo. No actual sunshades were expensed.<br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HcH-jmmaY7Q"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HcH-jmmaY7Q" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Frank Trainorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04006485177661918103noreply@blogger.com0