Why "MOONSHADOW"?

Why name a boat "Moonshadow".  Why change the name from "Ariel"?

A new phase of my life has begun.  After being together damn-near 46 years, I miss Debbi profoundly.  I considered naming the boat in her memory, like "Summer Song" by Chad & Jeremy, but then I'd get melancholy every time I thought about it.  Memories are safe in the past; nothing can harm them there.  The future is a concept; nothing will ever happen there.  All we have is this moment, right now.  Whoops, it's gone ... but here's another.  

I am indeed "leaping and hopping on a moonshadow".  I face a very real possibility of losing my right leg. (Put the bone-saw down, Doc, I've got some options to explore). I do believe that the "faithful light has found me".   I found the following interpretation of "MOONSHADOW"on Songfacts.com. Perhaps it should be called an interpolation. Whatever.  As a description of this moment, for me, I'll  quote from MY COUSIN, VINNY. "Dead on-balls accurate."**
 
MOONSHADOW
 
[Cat Stevens] wrote this about finding hope in any situation. Be present and joyful.
See life as it is, right now, and don't compare it to others' lives, or other times in your life.
Every moment in life is rich and unique; whether we are aware of it or not,
     we are always leaping and hopping on a moonshadow - the inescapable present moment.
If we are wrapped up in our whirlpools of worry and concern about what could be,
     or what has been, we are missing the richness of life as it is.
In the bridge of the song, Stevens seems to be speaking of faith, indicating ... that,
     although he is experiencing this ecstasy in the present, despite all the losses and
     suffering of existence, it is the light that has found him, and not the other way around.
     He is surrendering to a power greater than himself - the "faithful light." 
                                                                                                                        -- from Songfacts.com
 
Oh, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow, moon shadow, moonshadow---
Leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow---

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, Oh if I won't have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colors all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, Oh if I won't have to cry no more.
[Chorus]

And if I ever lose my legs, I won't moan, and I won't beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, Oh if I won't have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, Oh if I won't have to talk...

Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?
[Chorus]
Moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow.


**Coincidentally, that same phrase was used  many years ago to describe my seat-of-pants navigation when we sailed this very same boat from Oswego to Sackett's Harbor, despite small-craft warnings issued after we were well underway .  Not bad, considering the wind-drift and waves that resembled my garage. I have a photograph ... somewhere.

BONAIRE by Vinnie the Poo and Ee-Yore, too.

If you were wondering where on earth Mike and I have been for the last week or so, Vinnie the Poo will tell the story --- color commentary (mostly gray) by Ee-yore, the perennial pessimist.

Chapter 1 - Introduction

BONAIRE is a Dutch Island in the Caribbean, about 35 miles off the coast of Venezuela.
It rains about 9" per year, mostly in December. We like to go in April, because at home "April is the cruelest month" --  cold and drizzly.

Ee-yore:  "It's a heap of coral, parched by the sun. Outside of the rainy season, the weather is always HOT and WINDY.  Except, of course, when it's HOT and VERY WINDY.  The constant trade wind fools you into thinking you're comfortable until you've been burned beyond recognition.  Underwater is the safest place for tourists to be in the afternoon, while the residents have their siesta.

The island is an emergent reef; and inshore waters were declared a Marine Park sometime around 1955.  No long boat rides out to a barrier reef.  You're not allowed to drop an anchor or to fish with a hook (except on Good FridayR).  So the reef is pristine.  The fish do not fear divers.  On a night dive, you can pet a Moray, but it's not a good idea because some people feed them hotdogs, which look  like fingers.

EE-YORE:  Skinny-dipping is not advisable ... for the same reason".  (Believe me -- they don't call us "donkeys" for nothin'.)

Chapter 2.  Accommodations

We stayed at the nicest ocean-front accommodations that we could afford. Here are photos of the "Red Slave Huts" and also the "White Slave Huts", by the light of the rental car. 

 Ee-Yore: "After the accident, we got a ticket for driving an uninsured vehicle. It expired the day we got the car. In Bonaire, 07-04-14 means April 7th, not July 4th". Go figure! " 

Please note that I never said we actually stayed in the slave huts.  A nonsequitor is a venial sin, if a sin at all.  One night there was considered, but the island has aggressive land crabs that will come out of their shell to attack you.  Really !  So, we stayed at a somewhat nicer oceanfront place, where we have a timeshare studio apartment, a relic from a former life.  Mike won't let me sell it.

Chapter 3 - Flashback by Ee-Yore "Getting There Was Half the Fun !" 

FRIDAY ... up @ 7:00 am

     Lots to do the day before scheduled departure ... no nap...no sense going to bed ... gotta pick up Mike @ 4am ... park the car ... back in time to learn that Untied Airlines cancelled our flight to Newark. Called the airline, got Blanche in New Delhi ...so I gave the phone to Mike. He gets us on a Delta flight through Atlannah, which would get us to Bonaire earlier than the Untied Airlines flights.  One minor logistical problem...recommended check-in is 2 hours before departure.  We had 15 minutes.  Checked one suitcase, but too late to check the dive gear ... with the diving knife ... so I politely handed the knife to the agent who caught up with my bag and stowed the knife.  Then Mike ran pushing me in a wheelchair with 3 bags, went through TSA security twice ( don't ask), combat boots off and on and off and on ... run and roll some more ...got to the gate just as the door closed ...and, of course, once it's closed, they won't open it again even if the plane is on fire.  Back to Untied Airlines...and Mike gave the agent a lucid explanation of why they had to accept our Delta tickets. I heard that Rochester is nice in the Spring ... got a half-hour nap ... no sense going to bed for the night though...picked Mike up again at @2 am and drank Red Bull as he drove us to Rochester. From 7:00am Friday to Sunday night @ midnight, I had slept a total of 30 minutes -- and didn't feel any different than I ever do, except that my legs wouldn't stay still while we flew to Newark in a Bombardier.  Never thought I'd ever feel so happy to be in New Jersey!

TO BE CONTINUED

A NEW YEAR (and I don't care)

5:30 am, January 1, 2014.

A new year and I'm still here. For that, I'm grateful.
Yet, what difference does a new year make?
Every day, every hour, every minute,    
every breath is a new beginning,
If I declare it to be so.
On we go.

One step into the future is a step out of the past.
But what of the moment? Where am I now?
If always coming or going,
     when does a human have time for being?
When is Life?

We leave the past behind:
      the celebration and the sorrow.
Memories are safe there -- nothing can hurt them.
Tomorrow has hope and fear, dreams and tears,
     and maybe even glory.
Is that the real story? I don't think so.
Every story has a beginning and an ending.
That's what we remember,
      but it's the middle that really matters:  
      where the peanut butter meets the jelly.

When I look at my hands, I can see where I am and where I have been.
I feel the roughness and the callouses, the stinging that lingers,
      the wounds not quite healed.
One hand is empty - nothing to clutch, nothing to do.
The other holds a pen.
Ah!  There is the moment  - alive and well,
     creating something, pausing, moving, stopping,
     making sense out of life.  So it goes.

Let the revellers toot their tin horns.
Let them have their new year. I don't care.
All I want is one more breath.

ANNIVERSARY BLESSING

May your life together be blessed with perseverance, resilience and longevity.

Through ebb and flow, may the waves break gently on your shore.

May you endure the inevitable storms; and find strength in one another.

May you recognize and respect the separateness within your togetherness.

May you remember always that Someone who loves you dearly

       is watching over you, guiding you ... and smiling.

In Defense of German Lyrics

I used to think that German was
not lyrical at all, because
it has so many "achts" and "ichts" and "unzes".
But Brahm's could write a melody
to shame those guys from Italy.
I like the words to some of Brahms's tunes's.

*** especially, "Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen." 
As the self-appointed poet laureate of the Syracuse University Oratorio Society, I composed the first five lines on the way to a rehearsal. Then it took a week to come up with the final rhyme.  I was too stubborn to make it easy by changing line three. "Semper procedamus" .. or should I say, "Weiter, immer weiter"?

FATE -- QED

A slightly modified version of a sudden sonnet that I posted June 27.

My Our recent loss proves my point.

Everything you thought would last,
everything you've counted on,
is disappearing all too fast.
The world you know will soon be gone.
One day you find yourself alone.
It's wonderful to have some friends,
but they have troubles of their own.
And so it goes -- it never ends.

When Fate is waiting at your door,
turn the lock and let her in.
Find out what she wants you for.
Life might get better than it's been.
It's time to take her as your wife.
Fate's been your roommate all your life.

With a Steady Rain

With a steady rain I feel secure
and a torrent brings on gratitude
for a roof and walls and door and floor
and a cozy not a dreary mood.
With a steady rain I feel secure.

HOPE - a six-minute sextet

When deep in despair

you might realize
a new day is near.
The sun will soon rise,
and someone who cares

is right by your side.

FATE - a sudden sonnet

Everything you thought would last,
everything you've counted on,
is disappearing all too fast.
The world you know will soon be gone.
One day you find yourself alone.
The people who you thought were friends
all have troubles of their own.
And so it goes -- it never ends.

When fate is waiting at your door,
turn the lock and let her in.
Find out what she wants you for.
Life might get better than it's been.
It's time to take her as your wife.
Fate's been your roommate all your life.

SON of MUSIC MAN

a comically tragic grand opera  

 Sung throughout, just like Phantom of the Opera (well, sort of). 

ADD Tangent:  This concept might make a fun party game.  Go around the room, one line per person, creating a story with song lyrics.

CAST of CHARACTERS:

Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana) -- that obnoxious carrot-top kid from The Music Man, secret love-child of Robert Preston and Ethel Merman. Gary is now 25 years-old and sings every word that comes out of that obnoxious Hoosier-mouth of his. He should ask his doctor if Lyrica is right for him.

Annie Warbucks -- now 22 years old, no longer little nor an orphan, but still an obnoxious (yet lovable) redhead, who has the same lyrical disorder as Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana). 

The Narrator -- equally obnoxious and, alas, stricken with a terminal  earworm, the entire contents of his brain having been displaced by song lyrics that won't go away until he reformats his hard-drive.  Rightly played by the playwright, of course, except when he's retching due to his own libretto, when MaryLou covers for him.

ACT ONE (Singular Sensation)

Narrator -- How shall I begin to tell the story? Talk about the boy? Talk about the girl?  Na na NAH nah ... I write the songs!  When a body meets a body, anything can happen.  Who knows? Boy-oh, Boy-oh! Something's happenin' here!  Lordy, Lord I'm tellin' you. 

Gary -- Monday, Monday! All alone am I.  I'm Mr. Blue (wah oo wah ooo). I ain't got nobody.  I've looked at clouds and I think it's gonna rain today.
Narrator -- But no one heard at all, not even a chair.

Gary -- Well these boots are made for walkin'.  Gotta walk that lonesome valley ... singin', singin' in the rain. I walk alone.  All by myself.  Strollin down the aven-oo, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Lonely Street ...
Narrator -- Over, over and over ... but no one heard at all.  Here she comes ... pretty woman, walkin' down the street. 

Annie -- I didn't sleep a wink last night.  I've been cryin'.  (Wah oo wah ooo.) Tears on my pillow. So I say to myself, don't let the sun catch you cryin'. Oh, No!
Narrator -- It's raining! It's pouring! The sun ain't gonna shine anymore!

Gary -- Well, I'm a-walkin'.  I'm a travelin' man.  Fal-da-ree, Fal-da-rah ... 

Annie --  Who's that man, just a-walkin' down the street? He knows not where he's going to. He's just a man. Oh, No! Stop (in the name of love).

Gary -- Who am I? Who am I?

Annie -- Gary Indiana! Gary Indiana! You don't remember me, but I remember you. Try to remember. Back in the good ol' days. We were young, and didn't have a care. 
Narrator -- He went away, but now he's ba-ack. Look out, look out, look out, look out. He's no good for you, foolish little girl.  
Annie -- Listen! Do you want know a secret? Gary Indiana (Gary Indiana.) I wanna marry you ... and we're gonna get married.

Gary -- In the year 2525.  When Jupiter aligns with Mars. 

Annie -- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Gary -- It's not time to make a change. Let's spend the night together.

Annie -- R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Will you still love me tomorrow? 

Gary -- E-I-E-I-O.  Got a rocket in my pocket.

Narrator -- Boy-oh, boy-oh!  [deleted -- title and lyrics from a Woody Guthrie song recorded by the Kingston Trio ... and a line from "I Am Woman"].

Annie -- Ah! Sweet mystery of life!
Narrator -- Let's go out to the lobby.
________________________________________________________________________________
ACT TWO (Turtle-Doves)

Annie -- We're goin' to the chapel. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Indiana wants me and we're gonna get married.

Gary -- Nah, nah, NAH, nah. Never in a million years.

Annie -- Here we are! Two turtledoves -- and baby makes three.

Gary -- Kids? We've got trouble, right here. Kids?

Annie -- What's the matter with kids?

Gary -- Nah, nah, NAH, nah.  There, I've said it again. Hey, hey hey, Goodbye!

Annie -- Hey hey hey?  Goodbye?

Gary -- Sing for me, softly, as I leave you. It's time to move on. See you in September (in the year 3535).

Annie -- I'll see you in my dreams. I will always love you-oo-ooo.

Narrator -- But no one heard at all ... not even a ch... ch...  chh....

arrrgh! eccchhh!  Hello, MaryLou!  I want you, I need you! Help me if you can.

 Don't say No, it's THE END

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

What Do You See, Cat?

Oh, what do you see, Cat?  It puzzles me so.

When you're just staring up at the wall.

You spotted a spider there, four years ago,

Although now I see nothing at all.

Perhaps you’re engrossed in some Zen meditation

And you’re comatose, deep in a trance.

But very few gurus have your concentration,

So it might be extremely small ants.

You started at seven when I first awoke,

And right now it’s quarter-past three.

Sometimes I suspect it’s a practical joke

That’s designed just to mystify me.

DISCONCERTING & WHAT TO DO?

DISCONCERTING

When a seed that you planted and watered

and weeded and pampered and guarded

is about to burst forth with a blossom,

to you the occasion is awesome.

Yet people who you thought would care

preferred to have hot dogs and beer.

You don't know what they're thinking,

while your heart is sinking,

but it hurts.

WHAT TO DO?

A question to ponder:

What to do?  What to do?

Tolerate those who tolerate me?

Or simply depart, letting them be?

Letting them wonder?

Why should I care?

It's about them,

not about me.

Why should I care?

A FATHER'S LULLABY -- There Will Always Be Dragons to slay

This lullaby was written for my son, Michael.
I finished it, more or less, it when he was ... oh, about 32.
Please, please, tell us what you think of it.
The sheet music can be viewed or downloaded at Free-Scores.com
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Lucid, Vincent There Will Always Be Dragons to Slay (A Father's Lullaby) + MP3 (human interpretation) / MIDIVoice, Strings ensemble Celtic / 2010 V. J. Lucid © All rights reserved Powered by Free-scores.com

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Is it good enough to get it published?   If so, how?

An Irish Duck Hunter's Blessing

May your boat not be the orange kind.

May the wind be always in your face,

The ducks fly low above your blind,

Your buddy neither sneeze nor cough --

And if you tend to shoot in haste,

May you forget to take the safety off.

Editorial Comment:

 I have a Ph.D. in Wildlife Biology. I choose not to hunt, but I consider most hunting to be a personal decision -- assuming that you kill cleanly* and eat what you kill.  Trophy hunting, from a biology viewpoint, is hard to defend.  

* Bow-hunters ought to be really good archers before going into the woods. I once proposed, only half in jest, that you practice on ducks.  Your dog will retrieve all those arrows. Right?

A Glossary of Seldom-Used Musical Terms

Dr Speedbump’s                                                     Glossary of Seldom-Used Music Terms 3.5 Page 1 of 2
al dente	with a toothy grin; (see liberace)
al Fredo	heart-breaking
al Pacino	violent, but charming
altissimo	as high as you can sing
analgesia	gradually emerge from a painfully slow tempo
anchovi	few will like this section; (see broccoli)
anesthesia	slow enough to put the audience to sleep
archipelago	extremely stretched out
aria guitaria	air guitar
aria guitaria segovia	very good air guitar
asphyxia	squirming around in your seat to get more comfortable
awolto	an alto who’s absent without notifying the director
broccoli	distasteful, but doesn’t stink as bad as anchovi
bromo salsa	a dance like the one that follows anchovi pizza molto presto
caracas	crisp; (see dorito and tostito)
cleavagio	whole notes smushed together but still distinct
clipiti clopiti	in the style of Gene Autry; (see palomino)
colorado	beautiful, except where it’s flat
con supina	sing even if you don’t want to
counter tenor	a singing waiter at a diner
da Vinci	be inventive; make something up
de Julio	campy, but in an oriental style
de Niro	forget about it; the composer’s not talking to you
disconcerto	falling apart; e.g. when the conductor loses his place
domino	finish the movement in 30 minutes or less, or admission is free
dorito	corny; one variation of caracas
dumbo	heavy, but soaring
el Greco	distorted, just like the last section and the one before that
fargo	from a distance
farina	fine but distasteful
fraudulento	sung slowly, faking the words
gambino	in control and with conviction; screw it up and you’ll regret it
gelatino	generally shaky
generalissimo	with a commanding voice
graziano	a rocky, medium-heavy rhythm; (see marciano)
innuendo	very suggestively
karo	sickeningly sweet
largo cargo	slow and heavy
largo con fuego	a slow burn
liberace	with gaiety and a toothy grin (see al dente), usually in a tuxedo
Glossary of Seldom-Used Music Terms Page 2 of 2
linguini	a very thin tone
marciano	a rocky, very heavy rhythm; (see graziano)
martini pimento	ornamentation with no real purpose
mea culpa	with lots of mistakes
mea maxima culpa	the worst mistake imaginable
nolo prima	miss the entrance
oleo	saturated with flats
omaha	flat and boring
palomino	more uniform than pinto; (preferred by Gene Autry)
pinto	with contrasting spots; (see clipiti clopiti)
paterno	with blind determination, ad infinitum
payola	you must pay to play; obviously, no union musicians
pinnochio	played stiffly with strings
pizza molto	very flat
pizza pepperoni	with zest, but still flat
pizza poco	just a little flat
pizza poco a poco	getting flatter all the time
pp	what you should have done before the concert
priapistico	performed while standing for more than 4 hours
primi	start way too soon
quasi modo	moving along at half-speed
quasi morte angelina	beautiful but fading; literally “like a dying angel”
repugnissimo	very disgusting
rico	performed by an ensemble, when it’s supposed to be a solo
riga morte	stiff and very dull; quiet but not soft
rigatoni	a more robust tone; (see linguini)
rondo bondo	a recurring theme, each time by a different instrument, but never as well as the second one; always rehearsal section 007
sara palino	with no preparation and stopping suddenly halfway through
semolina	coarse and gritty
siberia	no sorento, ever
silencio	a cappella tutti (orchestra, chorus and soloists)
soni bono	literally “a good sound”, but actually a bit irritating
sorento	go back to this place; (synonymous with DS)
stubato	stumbling painfully along
tipperari	from an even greater distance than fargo
topeka	there’s absolutely nothing for you to do in this section
toledo	very exciting (umm…compared to omaha or topeka, anyway)
tostito	another variation of caracas (see dorito)
vivace fortissimo subito	wake the audience up; (see anesthesia)
wasilla vista	see siberia
zombi	riga morte quasi modo