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Memory enhanced.

Memory enhanced.

Click on the link below for the music accompaniment.

SONGS HAVE MEMORIES.

To Bondi 1of 2 471_4000x3000

As I remember we fitted together like a key in a lock. Until the way-would gypsy in me broke the lock that held us together. I was not ready to nest, I wanted to spread my wings and fly. Like the wild goose Frankie Lain sang about, in the 50s. But it was Judith Durham’s The Carnival is over that was haunting me in the 60s those harbour lights had mesmerised me.

We like to think we are wild geese.

We like to think we are wild geese.

 Life is a puzzle, full of ironies, and words are an imperfect medium to explain it. To allowed the monkey in our mind to wilfully swing from thought to thought is not mindful.  When one consciously lets the mind recall the past, or purposely plan for the future, it is alright. It is when we let our mind run on auto pilot and allow our subconscious to take the wheel we are in danger of losing control.

Who wants a better stove?

Who wants a better stove?

Hurrying to the future is prevalent in the technological world of today. Oblivious of our tasty breakfast we gulp our food to rush to a mundane job. Toiling for more than we need, desiring status symbols or devices we are told will save us time. Time cannot be saved; it is a passing thing that cannot be clung to. Aware, but not consciously aware and mindful, mindful is to be consciously aware, not running on auto pilot.

Full of youthful bounce.

Full of youthful bounce.

Knowing I am dwelling in the past is not fretting or regretting, it is recalling those passionate hot to trot youthful days, when love was synonymous with romance, infatuation and conquest. It is good not to forget those days and criticise the youth of today. Our vocabulary has improved now we know the meaning of reciprocity. Aware that true love is giving more than taking. True love is one thing that the more you give the more you receive.

Will they fall.... in-love ?

Will they fall…. in-love ?

Ignorant of the wisdom of the sages passed down through the ages. Back in my youth I had two gypsies in me, called curiosity and adventure, goading me on. The warm bed the tender caresses forfeited for faraway fields. There is no remorse, only a bitter sweet feeling of what might have been. I am sure I did the right thing; I needed to grow in understanding.

You see a lot when you travel.

You see a lot when you travel.

Traveling alone in foreign lands is the best teacher one can ever have.

May be this is your Christmas wish.

May be this is your Christmas wish.

In my memory she will remain a golden haired girl full of life. In reality I can imagine a grey and wrinkled woman. Our memory can span the ocean of time but an ocean of water has flown under the bridge since the 60s. Perhaps after a long tiresome journey she has gone home to rest. To be a billion dust-mites floating on the morning breeze to sparkle in the morning sun as new life.

A lovely person from the 60s.

A lovely person from the 60s.

Who knows?

I will end my love story here I have revealed enough. I have given you more than you realise, if not what you expected. Sorry if the ending was not a wonderful exciting climax. But this is not a TV romance made to make millions. It is just a story similar to many stories that leave us wondering.

This is the fruity ending, not as you pictured.

This is the fruity ending, not as you pictured.

 

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Pretty and small.

Pretty and small.

 

Something good.

Grand

Grand

He’s got the whole world I his hands, Come on let us sing. You know who we are singing about. That’s right god, your God. The God you have in your heart. Without that goodness there is no meaning to life. The whole cosmos is kept in equilibrium by the one and only, the inexplicable one, of many, God, Allah, Jesus, Brahman, The Tao, and The Force spoken of in Star Wars. Words, nouns and adjectives cannot define this all encompassing something.

Is anybody home.

Is anybody home.

When this something good that exists in you and me brothers and sisters and the whole world. When we recognize, acknowledge and appreciate this, we have a goal to aim for, a standard to meet, a blue print to build on, a rudder to steer us, a map to guide us and a star to aim for. We then know to go with the flow of this superior force and aim at excellence.  When the force is with you and you are working with this force for the wellbeing of all creation, you feel like singing Joy to the world and you feel good and the world is wonderful.

Joyful music.

Joyful music.

The ego is subdued by the force of right, no longer is I am so important it is you and others, we are one but we are many. No longer looking for points of disagreement we look for and see the many things we agree on. All the important things in life we agree on and we can respect other people’s ideas on what we find difficult to understand. My ego tells me I am right and I should not stand by calmly and let others make ridiculous statements. But my understanding tells me that I am not infallible. So long as others believe in promoting peace and harmony why make a big issue of technicalities.

Beauty is every where.

Beauty is every where.

It is essential to contribute to the welfare of everything that exists in our world, every person, every creature and our whole environment. As we are all interdependent nothing exists unaided without a chain of events; to damage one link weakens the whole chain. He has the whole world in his hands but some of us are singing out of tune. Come on listen to life’s melody get in tune and sing along. Be in the flow, share in the beauty, sing with all your heart.

The old violin.

The old violin.

This is a request from all the needy, altogether in tune, one two three, give it all you’ve got. Joy to the world, what a wonderful world and all my loving I will give to you. All the discord is blown in the wind. We have to believe we are magic nothing can stand in our way. Everybody loves somebody, somebody to love. Like the Blues Brothers, we are on a mission from God. You have to do the right thing or the almighty all powerful force will retaliate. It is up to you, to get in tune and sing along to find happiness, joy and contentment.

They are also making music.

They are also making music.

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Do you believe in dreams?

Almost bed time.

Almost bed time.

I had this dream.

One of Gabriel's friends.

One of Gabriel’s friends.

It is the middle of night, am I dreaming? Perched on the foot of my bed is a winged intruder. I have this strange feeling of déjà vu. My vision is clearing the intruder is an angel, that would explain how it got in here with the door locked and the apartment on the thirteenth floor. I understand that angels are capable of flight; also if I am dreaming anything is possible. Cogito ego sum or je pense donc je suis, I am dreaming I am not multilingual, I think therefore I am, I must be wide awake because I recognize this bloke invading my space.

“ G’day Gabriel what are you doing in Aussie? I inquire.

“I am like the Blues Brothers Jack, I am on a mission from God.”

“More like you are Down-under up to mischief as usual.” fearlessly I tell him.

“I am here to save God’s children; you still carry the sins of your convict fathers.”

I ignore this remark and hit him with one below the belt.

“Are you going to pollinate any virgin flowers this time?” I ask defiantly.

“You got it all wrong that was the Holy Ghost Jack, have you no faith?”

“I suppose the world is ready for another prophet, Mahomet’s poetic words are being undermined by terrorists.” I reply cynically.

“Exactly the world is in a devastating situation.” He says giving me a pleading look.

Here we go again, I Imagine I got that old feeling, this music is going round in my head, like a haunting refrain.  All I can think to say to Gabriel is in Olivia Newton John’s song, “Please mister please I don’t want to ever hear that song again.”

“What song?  Amazing Grace you like all the feeling in that one.”  He said in his coaxing angelic voice.

Not a nice way to spend Easter.

Not a nice way to spend Easter.

“I know what your mission is, to find another prophet like Mahomet or Jesus. No way, Jesus was literally, double crossed, and there’s been nothing but problems since that apple episode in the garden.” Having said that I stop and think, they still have dire straits in Iraq, it is said that was the site of the garden of Eden. I must be coming down with industrial disease or something. I plug-in some music, roll over and to the sound of music and go back to sleep.

Is he dreaming he is a butterfly.

Is he dreaming he is a butterfly.

Next morning I think maybe I have turned down my big chance but I believe it was all a dream. In the light of day I know I am not a butterfly dreaming I am a man. In China a man dreamt he was a butterfly, next day he thought am I a butterfly dreaming I am man. I have read of other similar cases, a man dreamt he was in a garden, picks a flower and when he woke up he has the flower in his hand. There are people who believe in dreams and people who do not. Do you believe the dream I had or do you think am I crazy or just fabricating this story to get you thinking?

Is he dreaming he is a man?

Is he dreaming he is a man?

 

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In Tune with life.

Jack’s Cantina

Marty Robbins’ songs date back to the 50’s, the gun slinger ballads. “El Paso,” “Night time would find me at Rosas cantina, music would play and Filina would whirl, one night a wild young cowboy comes in, dancing and daring a drink he was sharing, with wicked Felina the girl that I love, I challenged his right for the hand of this maiden, down went his hand for the gun that he wore, in less than a heart beat his challenge was answered, the handsome young cowboy lay dead on the floor.” Hollywood movies and songs like this made me a milk-bar cowboy. It was a red sports coat and no white carnation; I was the Milky Bar Kid pushing juke box buttons.

The Milky Bar Kid On The Dominator.

“Kaw-Liga (Kalayja) was a wooden Indian standing by the door. He fell in love with an Indian maid over at the antique store, Kaw-Liga too stubborn to let it show, so she could never answer yes or no.” Marty’s hit song “The Story Of My Life,” was written with a Dobro guitar and a Dodge car. The music we encountered in our travels makes us think of our life story, the people, places and all that we once held dear perhaps loved . Memories we recalled when songs are played, take us back down that long road of no return to the land of what might have been.

Cowboys.

“When some button pushing cowboy plays that love song and here I am just missing you again.” Olivia Newton John sings that song and some songs affect you in that way. “The Carnival Is Over.” I first heard Judith Durham sing back in the mid sixties and it still causes strong emotions in me. Those two Australian singers I like, not only because of their voices, but also the choice of songs and the memories they bring back. Music touches our heart in a way no other art form can. It is mood provoking. We must be mindful of the music we listen to because it can change our mood. Some songs from a joyous youthful era lift our mood. Then there are the bitter sweet songs of the past with their pensive recollections. That can provoke a melancholy, sentimental feeling of indecision of its merits. This is the time to remind ourselves, it is the now we are living in.

The cowboy out back with the FJ.

I do not regret the decision to sail off to foreign lands I was not ready to settle down. “My heart knows what the wild goose knows and I must go where the wild goose goes”, Frankie Laine, back then I empathized with those words. Like in the movie I escaped through those “Sliding Doors” to Napoli. “La Paloma”, no language barrier, music and a smile are the universal language. “Her eyes were deeper than the bay of Napoli.” Did she return to the Trevi Fountain was thirty lira enough, “I wonder who is kissing her now. I wonder who is teaching her how, Breathing sighs, telling lies; I wonder who’s buying the wine for those lips that I used to call mine. I wonder if she ever tells him of me.” Had the doors not closed my life would have been different but still full of “Heart Ache By The Number,” I was ignorant, a wild goose ready for plucking.

James with geese Pukekura Park.

The carnival is not over I am riding on a merry-go-round, with ups and downs and around and rounds.  “Hot Chocolate”, “You Sexy Thing.” “Mississippi” the Pussycats only hit. “That was my song that was her song but it’s over.” Like “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”, was her song. “Up in the morning out on the job work like the devil for my pay, but that lucky old sun got nothing to do but roll around the heavens all day.“ That was my song. “Dire Straits,” would have diagnosed “Industrial Disease.” No letter, no “Dear John.” “I heard it through the grape vine and I nearly lost my mind.” “Only The Lonely.” Mick was right, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Some songs can motivate and keep us going.

Blues on Broad Beach.

“Xanadu.” “Magic,” you have to believe we are magic. Nothing can stand in our way. If all your hopes survive, your destiny will arrive, and bring all your dreams alive for you.” Then “Before The Next Teardrop Falls” “Jumping Jack Flash,” You know “Thin Lizzy,” well “The Boys Are Back In Town.” “Cream”, “The Sunshine of Your Love,” “Eric Clapton.”  “Stand By Me” “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” “A Whole Lot a Lovin’,”  “Leo Sayer” would sing, “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing.” “With a Rebel Yell, “Billy Idol cried “More, more, more,” and “Another One Bites The Dust,” “Queen,” “Rolling On The River,” Tom Jones. It was “Late In the Evening,” with “Paul Simon,” “Love Is in The Air,“ not “Under The Boardwalk,”  “Down Under,” “Men at Work,” “When They Begin The Begin,” N.Z. 1982 “Hands Up,” eight weeks the top hit, still my top hit.

Jumping Jacks son Jason.

There is a lot more memorable music we embrace and hold tightly to our hearts. We all have our own personal favorites, the music that activates our emotions and shrinks time, taking us back to a long lost past. Like “The Ghost Riders in the Sky,” to an almost forgotten lullaby, that tempts us to break down and cry. But “Even the Bad Times Are Good,”  “There are times in this life of mine. That I think the sun forgot to shine. But as long as you are always there, it don’t bother me for why should I care, when all I got to do is run to you.” “You are My Sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey, you’ll never know dear how much I love you; please don’t take my sunshine away.”  We will be, “On The Road Again,” with ”Mustang Sally,” at the wheel. “Get your motor running, head out on the highway, looking for adventure and whatever comes our way. Like a true nature’s child, we were borne to be wild. Yeah! Darling, going to make it happen and take the world in a loving embrace.

More adventure off the highway.

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