Random thoughts: Dad and uncle George

I really have no idea if dad and his brothers were into sports, when they were growing up in east Texas. I know dad was a sport’s fan as an adult and he always rooted for the local teams.

Mom, me, dad and George, about 1957. left to right

He never showed me how to throw a baseball, football or dribble a basketball. Thinking about it now, I don’t think he knew how.

He did make sure, my brother, George, and I learned how to play what ever we were interested in and play it with good sportsmanship.

My dad rooted for the Washington Senators baseball team and the Washington Redskins football team, so by default I did too. Neither team was any good, but they were our local teams and we rooted for them, win or lose.

I have several fond memories of the farm, but this one often comes to mind. The Washington Redskins play the Dallas Cowboys twice a year. If the Redskins won, dad called uncle George in Texas, the opposite would happen if the Cowboys won. Twice a year that conversation occurred and it always started by one razing the other. It didn’t take long before they starting talking about family and old memories. This is one of my favorite memories of all time and that itself taught me how to be a good sport. He taught me by showing me.

I met uncle George one time and that was in 1972 after the Washington Senators left Washington and moved Texas and became the Texas Rangers.

LRandom thoughts: Writing about the Blues.

King of the Blue’s, Mr BB King

Sometimes I’m depruessed and that’s a perfect time to write stories of gloom and doom. Also reminiscing of sad times gone by, can create the perfect atmosphere to write blueish poetry or songs.

When I write poetry, it leans to pensiveness. My friends will ask, “Are you alright?” as well they should, because they’re my friends and they know and love me.

Sometimes I would answer, “Yeah, I’m good, just writing. Thanks for asking,” but if I am depressed, I’ll answer, “I’m a little down,” we’ll talk about it, then the conversation will lead into a more natural normal dialogue.

Lately I’ve been trying to write a blue’s song, with the desire to follow in the legendary footsteps of the great BB King. I’m finding it difficult to write something without a melody. When I write words, it’s to a tune in my head, that has already been written. I question how do these performers write words to music, but they know music and I’m trying to learn words.

I love listening to Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Slim Harpo, some harp by Little Walter, Etta James and many others. It seems they take the words right out my heart and expose them to world.

Etta James

I’ve liked the Blues for decades, but when Raymond and I watched the movie, Cadillac Records, it really took hold of me.

Have all the good songs been sung? Have all the good words been written? Hope not all of them, because I want to put my feelings into words, then on paper, then in your heart.