I was listening to Jack Johnson over a cup of coffee this morning; trying to wake up slow. Listening to his music is like taking a vacation to some remote island. It always manages to make all the noise go away. He is on to something, and we should take his advice and chill out before it’s all gone.
Kobe Bryant might beat Michael Jordan in a game of one on one if both players were able to face each other in their prime. However, Michael Jordan will still be known as the greatest player to ever play the game. Being a winner has nothing to do with stats. There was something magical about Jordan that immortalized him. There was just this sense of awe in watching him play. Everyone was thinking, “Wow, this guy isn’t even human”. He was the real deal all the way; a class act, in and out of uniform. Someone you wanted to be whether he won or not. He just happened to win. I still want to be like Mike and I can’t even win in a game of pig with my dog. I’ll never look that good in a pair of Hanes.
On Memorial Day I wrote an entry about politics entitled The Playground that once rested in this very spot. I left it up here for a few days and kept revising it, careful to form my words just right as not to offend anyone. It has become obvious to me that no one really gives a potty what I think about politics. Why? because they already have their own opinion. A political article by a musician always has three possible outcomes.
It is so clear now. A good song is a miracle. When you hear it you think, “Man, that is so true, I have been there. I want to hear that again. Don’t you love this song?” It’s like the only time we all agree. Now, I write because I feel alone. I got to get this idea off my chest. It makes me feel so much better knowing that people have been there and the song really helps them. The point is that it isn’t my music, it’s our music. It’s not my ideas, it’s our ideas. How foolish for me to ruin the love fest with my own presuppositions about something as delicate as politics. I will never be that guy. Feel free to hold me accountable. Happy Memorial Day. I am eternally grateful to those that gave the ultimate price for the freedom of a redhead that they would never know or meet.
Every once in a while a personal analysis is in order. The bar is high but worth the climb…or so I’ve heard.
We all make many mistakes, but those who control their tongues can also control themselves in every other way. [3] We can make a large horse turn around and go wherever we want by means of a small bit in its mouth. [4] And a tiny rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot wants it to go, even though the winds are strong. [5] So also, the tongue is a small thing, but what enormous damage it can do. A tiny spark can set a great forest on fire. [6] And the tongue is a flame of fire. It is full of wickedness that can ruin your whole life. It can turn the entire course of your life into a blazing flame of destruction, for it is set on fire by hell itself.
