Yes, “Lives Matter.” We shouldn’t have to qualify or modify this factual phrase with adjectives such as black or blue or all. And why not all? It could work, of course, and it should work. But given the political-cultural context in which the word modifies the phrase “Lives Matter,” all is used in opposition to black or blue, causing it to carry implied, unspoken modifiers such as even or especially: “All Lives Matter . . . even black lives . . . especially blue lives.” The implied even indicates a concession rather than affirmation, and the implied especially points to some sort of privilege.

And yet it’s important that we remember black lives because of all the violence done to them. Done to them in the deep past. Done to them now. (I think the same about “red” lives, but I’ll deal with that another time.) And those who would try to minimize or mitigate the importance of an idea like Black Lives Matter do not understand the devastation wrought upon Africans and Black Americans throughout history and pervasively in the present. In order to achieve the equality implied by the slogan “all lives matter,” we must understand that all lives don’t come to that state of equality from the same starting point and across the same distance.

In a discussion of dehumanization, Brené Brown, in her book Braving the Wilderness, provides a succinct explanation of why, if all lives matter, special attention must be paid to black lives.

. . . if our faith asks us to find the face of God in everyone we meet, that should include the politicians, media, and strangers we meet on Twitter with whom we most violently disagree. When we desecrate their divinity, we desecrate our own, and we betray our faith.

Challenging ourselves to live by higher standards requires constant diligence and awareness. . . . Dehumanizing works because people who speak out against what are often sophisticated enemy image campaigns–or people who fight to make sure that all of us are morally included and extended basic human rights–often face harsh consequences.

An important example is the debate around Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, and All Lives Matter. Can you believe that black lives matter and also care deeply about the well-being of police officers? Of course. Can you care about the well-being of police officers and at the same time be concerned about abuses of power and systemic racism in law enforcement and the criminal justice system? Yes. . . .

But then, if it’s the case that we can care about citizens and the police, shouldn’t the rallying cry just be All Lives Matter? No. Because the humanity wasn’t stripped from all lives the way it was stripped from the lives of black citizens. In order for slavery to work, in order for us to buy, sell, beat, and trade people like animals, Americans had to completely dehumanize slaves. And whether we directly participated in that or were simply a member of a culture that at one time normalized that behavior, it shaped us. We can’t undo that level of dehumanizing in one or two generations. I believe Black Lives Matter is a movement to rehumanize black citizens. All lives matter, but not all lives need to be pulled back into moral inclusion. Not all people were subjected to the psychological process of demonizing and being made less than human so we could justify the inhumane practice of slavery. (76, 77; emphasis added)

Brené Brown. Braving the Wilderness: The Quest for True Belonging and the Courage to Stand Alone. New York: Random House, 2017.

He entered the Swamp to clean it out, but instead he became its king . . . just as he’d planned all along.

While the Swamp King appears never to have filed personal bankruptcy, his various businesses filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection six times between 1991 and 2009. SK claims four times, but when pressed on the matter, he has said that he counts the first three as one. These corporate actions have left many debt holders unpaid and many shareholders with equity losses.

I don’t think the nation will get out of its relationship with him any better.

Polls suggest that a majority of SK’s supporters — not counting his base, of course — neither trusts him nor approves of his performance as king in any but one category of the job he’s supposed to be doing. The one area he’s trusted is the economy, in spite of his being, demonstrably, a failed, flawed businessman.

And, from what I’ve heard out of people’s mouths, that one area of trust and approval is based largely on some version of “My 401K’s doing good.” This reason suggests a level of personal greed, even if it is benign greed — thoughtless greed — for most. And it might not be a reason that holds much water anymore since the coronavirus has tanked our economy.

In comparison to benefits offered to large corporations and the wealthy, SK cares not a whit for us as poor or middle-class individuals. And while some of his Swamp moves might have benefitted our small businesses in limited ways, that’s really only a measly trickle-down benefit in comparison to how those moves benefitted biggies in business and personal wealth. A devastating number of our small- and medium-sized business will not survive the swamp of systemic and administrative failures into which SK has led us.

Check out this arguably less repulsive image of Swamp King and consider how far the roses and the pecs go to redeem — to de-monster — the monster . . .

Exactly.

If the Swamp King is allowed to continue his reign, then we might be wise to consider these words:

We must keep our eyes fixed on the supreme government of the ETERNAL KING, as directing all events, setting up or pulling down the Kings of the earth at his pleasure, suffering the best forms of human government to degenerate and go to ruin by corruption. . . .

Dr. Samuel Langdon. A SERMON PREACHED BEFORE THE HONORABLE CONGRESS Of the Colony Of the Massachusetts-Bay IN NEW ENGLAND, Assembled at WATERTOWN, On Wednesday the 31st Day of May, 1775.

I haven’t yet the heart to write of my mother’s passing on May 5, 2020, but I will soon. Instead, I return to my journal in an attempt to catch up with myself in years past. Below, I’m nineteen years old in the February of 1978 and in my second semester at Mars Hill College.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.178 (Tuesday, February 21, 1978)

Another day gone by but this one ended pretty heavy with a heavy snow. It began flurrying at around 12:30 but didn’t do much. Then at app. 4 o’clock it started heavy and by “5” there were around 2 inches on the ground. it hasn’t stopped since and we now have I guess around 5″ or 6″.

I’ve been feeling rather apart from God lately but I know He’s still there and this is just one of those times. He’ll pull me through. . . .

I would have loved to see a snow like that in this winter of 2019-2020.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.278 (Wednesday, February 22, 1978)

Today was George Washington’s birthday though I’m not really sure how old he would be.

We have a very heavy snow on the ground most of my classes were called off.

I’m really kind of worried about my ear ’cause it stays clogged up, but I’m sure the Lord will help me out.

George was supposed to be home today and I pray that he made it OK.

I also got a letter from Kelly and a map of how to get to her house next Friday. I can’t wait to see her again. It’s been almost a year.

I also have to get ahold of Leesa sometime to get my hair cut. . . .

February 22, 1978, was George Washington’s 246th birthday.

George Waters was (and is) my friend from Walnut. Although he now lives in the Pacific Northwest, he lived back then with his family off Brush Creek Road. We had some damned crazy times in school, in Youth Group, on Glory Ridge, with the White Water Band. The only time I ever got paddled in high school was on account of George. On the same day that our Madison High principal announced a crackdown on leaving school early without permission, I left at lunchtime without permission in order to drive to Asheville and see George off to the Coast Guard. The next morning our very large Assistant Principal, Mr. Bruce Sprinkle, called me to the office. We had a nice chat before he finally decided we should get the business over with so I could get back to class. He asked me if I’d like three licks or one and a half. I figured that the one and a half would actually be just one that packed most everything he had, so I chose three that I hoped would be judicious licks. I have no scars, so I think I chose wisely.

A few years ago, I saw George’s father at a Homecoming service at the Walnut Presbyterian Church. He told me that I’d been a bad influence on George. I’d never been called that before! Mr. Waters was always a hard one to read, so I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking — I’m guessing both.

Again, Kelly–can’t remember her last name–was a girl from Greensboro whom I met with the White Water Band during our wild trip to Myrtle Beach in the summer of ’75, when I was sixteen years old. She was fourteen at the time, and by the time I took this 1978 trip to see her, she was probably seventeen. I don’t recall anything about the trip except for arriving in Greensboro during an ice storm and, as I was driving the last few miles, watching a build-up of ice that swept beautifully backwards from my side-view mirror along my window and door. Or maybe that was the year before?

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.478 (Friday, February 24, 1978)

Today has been quite a day. Nothing big happened really, I just had a good one. This morning Dr. Bryant and I talked about flute for my whole lesson ’cause I couldn’t play too well because of my ear. I’ve decided to order a solid gold flute from Powell I guess because I really liked Dr. B’s flute the first time I touched it. The gold is because my body chemistry seems to just eat away silver. I’ll also buy a flute next winter with a fine enough quality to get me through the next few years.

I went back to Dr. Powell today and he said my ear was looking better. He also cleaned it so that now I can hear again! Praise the Lord!!!

I wrote Jerry Anderson a note today to tell him I’m dropping out of the group. It was something I had to do and I hope they take it right.

Old George is back in town. I haven’t seen [him] yet but I probably will tomorrow.

I talked to Mike Ponder at Dunham’s tonight to see what he thought about my chances of getting a part-time job there this summer. It sounded pretty hopeful.

The closeness I’ve felt to God today has really been strengthening. We seemed apart for a while but I hope that’s cleared up, ’cause it’s no live without him. . . .

I never bought that gold flute, having decided by the fall of ’79 that I didn’t have the dexterity to be a great flutist. I did, however, buy that flute of “fine enough quality” to see me through to the present day. It’s my beloved Muramatsu, and it has its own tale to tell!

I think Jerry Anderson must have been the leader of the singing group that I’d auditioned for and joined in the fall semester of ’77. And as for Mike Ponder and Dunham’s Music, I didn’t work there that summer.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 022.578 – 022.678 (Saturday-Sunday, February 25-26, 1978)

Last night I went out with George and Betty. It was really good to be with them again. My future plans weighed heavy on my mind but I’ve surpressed [sic] them no ’cause there’s no use in losing my head.

Today at Youth Group we got some really good work done in our music. Tonight I saw Leesa and had my haircut, then I came back to school and saw “Wizards“. . . .

Leesa was working at Creative Hair Design in Asheville and being a single mother to Lane. I doubt that I went to CHD for my haircut, given that it was Sunday. Probably it was to her place, whether in Marshall or Asheville. Regardless of where it was, I’m sure I went with butterflies in my belly, as I always did, hoping for I knew not exactly what, because she was — and still is — “The One Great Love” in my life.

Not sure what those heavy future plans were at that time.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.778 (Monday, February 27, 1978)

Today has been really easy. I got up sick, went to English, then lay in bed the rest of the day. . . .

Of course I went to English class!

Below we jump to the late winter of 1980, when I’d transferred to Belmont College in Nashville and was living in a one-room apartment, upstairs in a house on 17th Avenue South. I was twenty-one years old.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.680 (Tuesday, February 26, 1980)

Things are moving along as normal so there’s not much to report. Right now what I want to do is set some short and long range goals:

Short–1) buy reel to reel 2) move to Apt 1 downstairs 3) have a song published by June (at least one) 4) have a song on the radio and several on the market by December

Long–do my first album before age 25 (3 1/2 years) 2) be on Carson 3) fix piano at home 4) buy my own house 5) pay Mom and Jerry and Dad back for “unneeded expenses” 6) do “down home medley with family and friends. . . .

Let’s see about these short- and long-range goals: I got a reel-to-reel recorder (at some point); no song published by June; no song playing on the radio or being pitched on the market by December. In fact, I moved back to Walnut in June, and in December I was working in Mike Tweed’s sports store in West Asheville.

I actually did record my first album, Fiesta (never released) by age 25, and the single by the same name was released some seven months before my 25th birthday. I was never on Johnny Carson’s show, although a couple of my songs were in the late ’80s: “The Jaws of Modern Romance” and “Christmas Time,” both recorded by Gary Morris (although the links are to my versions).

I’ve fallen several weeks behind in this endeavor to electrify my old journals (mostly) from the 1980s. So, I’m going to try to get caught up with this project and, at the same time, begin responding to and reflecting on this situation the world — my world, our world — finds itself in during this strange spring season of 2020.

A first reflection: Maybe the notion of 20/20 will serve as a metaphor that encourages us to see ourselves — all of us (in which us really means all of us, from Jonesborough, Tennessee, to its antipodal point of Oceania and the closest city of Augusta, Australia, and back again) — as one people, one world under God, including all iterations of God’s name in whatever tongue, tribe, and nation.

Now, to my little world and its past. I thought that this stretch of days, from February 14 to 20, would’ve generated years of Valentine’s Day musings about loneliness and hope for love, but that turns out not to be the case. I found only one entry on a February 14, and that was from 1978. It doesn’t even mention Valentine’s Day. Some romantic I am!

Captain’s Log: Stardate 021.478 (Tuesday, February 14, 1978)

Today was a little short of yesterday but it was still a great blessing just to be alive. I got Anita’s ticket from Dr. Bryant and I’m praying for a good time tomorrow evening. I don’t know what the Lord will have happen between me and Anita but it’s totally in His hands and I’ll accept whatever should happen.

I went home tonight and took Phil. We had a couple of pizzas and he met the family. I’ve also got some plans made for April which I’ve gotta get rolling.

“Rampal” above and below is Jean-Pierre Rampal, a flute hero of mine. Dr. Joyce Bryant, my flute teacher at Mars Hill College, got tickets to see Rampal in Charlotte, North Carolina, and she had an extra ticket for my new friend and piano accompanist Anita Miller.

I have no idea what the “plans made for April” might have been, unless it was the music for Easter and 5th Sunday in Walnut. Maybe further entries will shed some light on this.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 021.578-021.678 (Wednesday-Thursday, February 15-16, 1978)

Last night was unbelievable as far as the concert goes. Rampal had me completely in his spell and at the end I got his autograph and his accompanist’s.

Between me and Anita everything went well or as well as I might expect. Today I practiced hard ’cause I’ve got a full head of steam rollin’. . . .

I have in my mind images of Rampal on stage, but I have no memory of getting his autograph or of the trip to Charlotte and back.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 021.778-021.978 (Friday-Sunday, February 17-19, 1978)

There wasn’t much to this weekend except for today. We got together at Youth Group and worked on our new music for Easter and the 5th Sunday in April. It was really nice ’cause we had about 20 people or so and are expecting more.

Tonight I saw “The Eagle Has Landed.” It was a real good flick. . . . .

The Eagle Has Landed (1976) stars Donald Sutherland, Robert Duvall, and Michael Caine. This is perhaps interesting only in that I was thinking just last night of another Sutherland film from back then, The Great Train Robbery (1978), which also starred Sean Connery and Leslie-Anne Down

Captain’s Log: Stardate 022.078 (Monday, February 20, 1978)

There’s really not much to say. It was another blessing of good life. . . .

Well, that last entry sounds almost like these 2020 groundhog days of quarantine. We go to bed whenever we feel like it. We don’t set an alarm and wake up whenever we wake up. We actually make 90% of our meals at home and eat 95% of them there. . . .

These days in the first half of February are the approximate middle of winter. Even in the first year of my Captain’s Log, I began to slip a bit in the regularity of my entries, covering a range of days at a time. Then, as the log moves on beyond its first year, I seem to have written very entries during February in general and, for this midwinter week, none at all beyond 1980.

So, away we go, winging back over forty years to February 1978, when I was some three months into my nineteenth year.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 020.778 [Tuesday, February 7, 1978]

Work work work work, work work work work. Well, I guess that sums up my feelings. I slept late this morning but I’ve been busy since I got up. Tomorrow doesn’t look much better with 5 classes to look forward to.

I saw A——— today. She’s been in the infirmary for a couple of days. When she gets to feeling better maybe we’ll get some work done on our music.

New Beginning practice went well tonight and after that was done, I had a pretty good practice with my flute. . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardates 020.878-020.978 [Wednesday-Thursday, February 8-9, 1978]

I’ve been busy these past couple of days. I’m doing a lot of practicing and I can feel it paying off ever so slightly. Tomorrow I only have German and a flute lesson. . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardates 021.078-021.278 [Friday-Sunday, February 10-12, 1978]

These days have been pretty uneventful. I’m just stayin’ alive and I’m thankful for that. On Friday I had a real good flute lesson, then went home to just kick around. Yesterday morning, I called Kelly to tell her I’d be down March 3, 4, & 5. Then I came back to Mars Hill to set up the handbell tables and practice piano. Last night Paul Babely and me went to see the Asheville Symphony. It was pretty good.

Today I’m playing hand bells at the Baptist church, then it’s home for lunch and I’m starving now. . . .

Captain’s Log: Supplimental [sic]

Another Sunday night and I’m back at school waiting for another Monday. This, however, should be a good week if my piano lesson doesn’t mess me up. She really loaded me down. What’s good about this week is that Wednesday I’ll be in Charlotte to see Jean-Pierre Rampal, and I can’t wait. well, better catch some Z’s. . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardate 021.378 [Monday, February 13, 1978]

This day has been great! So many good things have happened to me and I know they come by the grace of my God, the only God.

First I must tell you about a late entry for yesterday. At Youth Group it was decided that I would arrange the service for the group’s 5th Sunday meeting in April. I really hope we can do well and be a blessing to all who hear us.

I got mail from Camp Cheerio this morning telling me that they were very impressed with my application. If I get the job, it’ll be a big decision as to whether or not to go.

This evening I went to Mike Tweed’s to eat supper and had the usual good time.

When I got back from Tweed’s I got the urge to go down and practice. Just as I got there A——— was quitting. I never did get any practice done because we just talked for almost an hour. She’s gonna go to the Rampal concert with us on Wednesday. It was thrilling because for a week or so I’ve been praying for someone to talk to and spend some time with and this comes up. I don’t know what’ll come of it but I’m sure willing to hide and watch (I hope Dr. Bryant still has tickets). . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardate 020.780 [Thursday, February 7, 1980]

Hello! Things are going well here in Music City. I’ve had a good weekend and a good week so far. I saw George, Phill and Keith, (Not Ed), and Mike. Made the flume zoom at Opryland and I also applied for a job with Labor Source, Inc. driving a van 5 hrs a week for $6.00/hr. I gave my tunes to Mulloy and he liked them, especially “Rhymes” and “A Cowboy” . . .

It seems during these early days of my first having moved away from home that I traveled back to the mountains most every weekend. I guess that was the case until I got the Opryland job (even though I didn’t keep it very long).

Bob Mulloy was one of my instructors in the Music Business program at Belmont College. I remember “Rhymes” (as a song, although I can’t remember it enough to play it). I have Gabriel writing some of it in the apartment above the funeral home in Gabriel’s Songbook. “A Cowboy” was in B minor and was Joey Plemmons’s favorite among my songs.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 021.180 [Monday, February 11, 1980]

Not a whole lot going down these days. Just been doing school work mostly. Let’s see, last week I talked to Billy Puett for about 30 mins. which was really interesting. I got my job at Opryland but I didn’t get the one with Labor Source, Inc. School is going fine except for Algebra. If things don’t get any better in there, I may try to get out and go back to Math 90 rather than fail but if there’s a chance I’ll pass I hang 10. I got to talk to Joe Arnold for a while last night, it was great to hear his voice again. Jack is supposed to call sometime soon. I’ve got my first session in the studio coming up Thursday (021.480). I’ll be doing lead vocals on a Charlie Daniels tune called the “Passing Lane“. I’ve never heard it so I hope I can learn it and do a good job. I wrote and finished a new tune of my own today called “Forever”. A complete remake of an of an [sic] old one T. Wiley helped me write a few years back . . .

I first encountered Algebra at Marshall High School, on the island, when I was a freshman. I did really well in Algebra I. During sophomore year at Madison High School, I started out well in Geometry and did a slow fade through the year, actually failing the last six weeks, I think. Algebra II in junior year was a disaster. So goes my math skills.

I’m not sure how meeting Billy Puett came about. He was a studio musician in Nashville, providing flute/saxophone/recorder tracks for lots of folks I listened to: Dallas Holm, England Dan & John Ford Coley, Jimmy Buffett, and more.

I’m running behind on everything these days — or at least it seems so. And before anybody asks — “So, what’s changed?” — this is more than usual. I’m thinking of just renaming this “Through the Years” or something cheesy like that and not worrying about keeping up. But for now it remains as titled above.

Back to 1978, which is now more than 40 years ago.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 013.178 [Tuesday, January 31, 1978]

My last day of complete freedom is almost at a close. Tomorrow starts regular classes and for a Wednesday I’m really loaded down. I’ve got a lot of music to go through this semester but I’m gonna stick my nose to the old grindstone.

New Beginning Singers was good this evening. I really enjoy the music we’re doing.

Well, I better get some sleep ’cause I got a 9:00 class tomorrow. . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardate 020.178 [Wednesday, February 1, 1978]

Well, classes started today and I’m really tired. I played flute for 5 hours today. I think I’m gonna ask A——— to go to Charlotte with me to see Jean Pierre-Rampall [sic]. Keep your fingers crossed for me. . . .

As I was writing this, I looked up Jean-Pierre Rampal and learned that he died in 2000. I don’t know why this surprises me. I suppose I think of such influences as something akin to immortal. But before long — or the longer I live — these folks I’ve grown up with will start walking on from Earth.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 020.278 [Thursday, February 2, 1978]

Well, things are moving slow as classes are just getting underway. I think it’s gonna be a good semester once things get organized. My English and German seem to be okay, at least for the first day.

I can’t quite figure out why I’m so lonely all of the time. There seems to be no one in this world — that I’ve met yet — for me. I’ve prayed that the Lord give me someone to be with but I guess I haven’t stuck with it well enough. I know he can give me all I need if I’ll only trust him.

I told Anita about the tickets Dr Bryant has but I didn’t say anything about taking her. I think I’ll say I’ll buy it for her as payment for her help on piano. . . .

The late great Dr. Joyce Bryant was my flute teacher during my years as a flute major at Mars Hill College. She was a great teacher — firm but supportive and encouraging — with a truly quirky personality and style. She always wore those clip-on sunglasses flipped up most of the time. But when she’d get excited, she always made some move that caused them to fall down and put her suddenly in the dark.

I remember going to see Jean Pierre-Rampal in Charlotte, but I can’t remember now if A——— went with me or not.

Captain’s Log: Compiled Stardates 020.378-020.578 [Friday-Sunday, February 3-5, 1978]

Once again it is Saturday, or rather Sunday, night, and tomorrow kicks off another week. On my new schedule I have four classes, an hour of piano practice and three hours of flute practice.

There’s nothing really to say about these past 72 hours. Friday, 010.378 [sic] I went to see John in “Godspell” which was really good. Then I went to experience Cinema 180 which was good to. Yesterday was a day for lying around and practicing. I went to the ball game and spent most of the time talking to Nickie and Suzanne. Today I have spent studying mainly though the highlight was Mike’s sermon on faith which I thought was super. . . .

“Mike” was, again, Mike Tweed, pastor and friend. Nickie and Suzanne were friends from Madison High School. I don’t remember Nickie’s last name (maybe Sprague?), but Suzanne’s was Powell.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 020.678 [Monday, February 6, 1978]

The days of our lives here at MHC just move on by slowly, but when I think back each night it seems to have passed so swiftly. Today was alright. I had four classes and practiced for about 3 hours on flute. Wednesday I start my piano, so I’ll be glad to get into that. It snowed last night and it was really cold today but I reckon everyone made it through. I’m really enjoying my German class. It has spawned a new dream in my mind which is to see Germany, after I graduate here, and study music. That would be wild but I guess I’ll be patient and wait on the Lord to see what He’ll have me do. . . .

Although I would never have been a good enough flutist to do graduate study in Germany, I did get to see Germany — and even sooner than I thought. Less than a year and a half from the time I wrote this, I was in Germany and 16 other European countries with AESU. That adventure, I’m sure, gave me the confidence to leave home and go to school — however briefly — in Nashville, where I found myself just a few months after the trip to Europe, in the winter of 1980.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 013.180 [Thursday, January 31, 1980]

This week has been alot [sic] of work. I’ve been having many tests this week so I should know how I’m doing in each class soon. Other than study and music there’s not been a whole lot going on. I put music to “Once for Every Lonely Night” and I wrote my first descent [sic] religious song, “I Will Raise You Up”. I hope I can get my songs recorded as soon as possible cause I need to be hitting the publishers soon.

I’ve got my job interview with Opryland Feb. 6 @ 3:00. It’s with the operations department working with the rides. Right now I’m making plans for what to do with my money. Other than live on it, I hope to buy a cheap, used electric piano for my writing. I’d also like to have the 4-track portable studio cassette player that TEAC has come out with.

Well, tomorrow I hope to go home if the weather holds . . .

While I have a vague memory of “Once for Every Lonely Night” and might even be able to find a recording of it, I have no memory of “I Will Raise You Up.” I seem to recall a reel-to-reel recording that I made in the back room at Walnut. If the song is anywhere (recorded, that is), then it’s likely to be on that tape.

Although Opryland didn’t want me to entertain its visitors, it hired me to run them through the Flume Zoom (or the Log Ride). I don’t remember too much about it, as I didn’t stay with it long, only until March or April. I do remember once working the station at the top of the drop at the end (see below), when some girls who rode by in their log flattered me by saying I looked like Burt Reynolds.

Must’ve been the mustache.

We’d had lots of rain in east Tennessee the days before my gig at Union Street Tap Room in Erwin, Tennessee. And then on the Friday of the gig, the weather turned cold, and snow fell on and off all day.

Leesa and I were on the way to Erwin, driving from our house and intending to pick up HWY 81 at the end of Arnold Road. But when we arrived at the intersection of Arnold and 81, the road from there to Erwin was closed. So, we had to turn around and go back through Johnson City and around I-26.

We got to Union Street in time to set up the equipment and for me to begin at 8:00, but the rerouting took up the time I’d intended to use in writing up a list of songs for the two-hour set. For that reason, I don’t have a set list to provide.

One thing different about this show from most previous ones is that I included several more cover tunes. In fact, for the first two-thirds of the performance, I alternated covers and originals, and for the last third, I probably mixed originals/covers at about 3/1.

Although I don’t remember the order exactly, here are most of the songs I did for the night:

• “No Surrender” (Bruce Springsteen)
• “Dizzy from the Distance”
• “Wildfire” (Michael Martin Murphy)
• “She’s a Wild One”
• “Year of the Cat” (Al Stewart)
• “Fiesta”
• “Into the Mystic” (Van Morrison)
• “The Jaws of Modern Romance”
• “Genesis Road”
• “Heart of Gold” (Neil Young)
• “Empty Islands”
• “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” (Looking Glass)
• “Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” (U2)
• “Pride (In the Name of Love)” (U2)
• “The Street I Live On”
• “Best I’ve Ever Seen”
• “Jamboree”
• “The Weight” (The Band)
• “Lean on Me” (Bill Withers)
• “The Bells of Vimperk”
• “You’ve Got Something I Need”
• “There Was Always a Train”
• “Rain on the River”
• “Homecoming”

That’s 24 songs, which works out to $6.25 per song.

Here’s a passage I ran across in my reading of Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces:

The inflated ego of the tyrant is a curse to himself and his world–no matter how his affairs may seem to prosper. Self-terrorized, fear-haunted, alert at every hand to meet and battle back the anticipated aggressions of his environment, which are primarily the reflections of the uncontrollable impulses to acquisition within himself, the giant of self-achieved independence is the world’s messenger of disaster, even though, in his mind, he may entertain himself with humane intentions. Wherever he sets his hand there is a cry (if not from the housetops, then–more miserably–within every heart): a cry for the redeeming hero, the carrier of the shining blade, whose blow, whose touch, whose existence, will liberate the land.

Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, 11.

Campbell — in 1949 — accurately describes the political situation in the (not-so) United States of America and, indeed, much of the rest of the Western world:

. . . schism in the soul, schism in the body social, will not be resolved by any scheme of return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render an ideal projected future (futurism), or even by the most realistic, hardheaded work to weld together again the deteriorating elements. Only birth can conquer death–the birth, not of the old things again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be–if we are to experience long survival–a continuous ‘recurrence of birth’ . . . to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death.

Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, 11-12.

The semester here at ETSU has prevented me from posting this anywhere near on time, but I’m determined to keep this up through 2020. So, while I might run behind, I won’t run off.

Again, I begin with the earliest entries from my days at Mars Hill College, when I was a 19-year-old flute major and lived on the second floor in Spilman Hall.

Captain’s Log: Stardates 012.478-012.578 [Tuesday-Wednesday, January 24-25, 1978]

These past two days have been the usual. The only thing out of the ordinary was that yesterday I went to audition for “The New Beginning Singers.” I haven’t gotten word on the results ye but Anna said I did real well.

Today went about the same. I mailed off an application to the Presbytery of Concord, to work at Camp Grier. It would be really great to get a job out there. Tonight, Yogi and I went to see “Heroes.” It is a really good flick.

Well, I’ll inhale a few Z’s right now and resume the log tomorrow night 012.678. . . .

Here are pictures of Yogi and me. Both of us worked at the Mars Hill College radio station. I don’t think I’m at work in my picture, but Yogi definitely is. During our freshman year, he roomed with Phill Shuford, and the two of them were across the hall from Johnny Sawyer and me. I can’t remember his last name or where he was from. Pennsylvania maybe? I remember he had only nine toes because one had been lost in a lawnmower accident.

I don’t know if this visit to see Heroes was the time that the following took place, but I had what was probably my life’s most overtly heroic moment while going to the old Plaza Theatre to see a movie with Yogi. I don’t remember the exact layout of the area in those days, but I know that Yogi and I were walking from our parking space from downhill and to the left of the photograph below. A young woman pulled up and stopped her car just where you see the back of the car in the photo. She got out and went around the back of her car to go to the ticket booth. As she crossed the sidewalk, the car apparently slipped out of PARK or, if in NEUTRAL, the emergency break failed or something. The car began to roll forward toward the downhill slope that led to the police station and courthouse.

Yogi and I saw what was happening and ran forward, just as the passenger-side wheels of the car jumped up on the curb. We thought that when the car hit a metal No Parking sign on the sidewalk it would either stop or slow down enough that we could push from the front to stop it. Yogi approached the front of the passenger side, leaving me the driver’s side. We were wrong about what we thought would happen. The car was one of those large cars of the 1970s, a Buick or something like that. It hit the sign as we put our hands on the front, but it just bent the sign to the ground and kept going. Yogi had to peel off helplessly to the passenger side to get out of the way. The car began to pick up speed as the grade increased, heading straight for a big light pole on the corner above the police station. I ran alongside the car, hoping that it would maintain a more-or-less straight course. In my peripheral vision I could see Yogi standing and watching and the young woman frantically running down the hill behind.

At some point in all this, I realized an older woman was in the passenger seat, and she was screaming, “Stop the car! Stop the car!”

The runaway was about thirty feet from the light pole when I finally got my hand on the handle and pulled the door open and dove in. As the old woman kept screaming, I righted myself in the driver’s seat, took the wheel, guided the vehicle off the sidewalk — just a few feet short of the pole — and braked it to a stop with a screeching of tires that brought a handful of Asheville’s finest running up from the station.

I looked at the old woman and asked if she was all right. She was, and she was very appreciative, as was her daughter when I stood up out of the car. The police were, of course, less appreciative and more suspicious about what was going on. I think I summed it up for them in a few words and turned back up the hill to join Yogi and head for the ticket booth. We didn’t want to be late for our movie.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.678 [Thursday, January 26, 1978]

I had my first rehearsal with the New Beginning Singers anoche. Tim Taylor and I are Tenor I. I hope I can stay with this group, and I think I can if they don’t try to press beliefs on me or make me pray or witness. That’s were I get off ’cause the Lord didn’t give me a tounge (whatever) for witness (I think that’s what I mean). Well, I think I’ll try to get ahold of G——— this weekend, unless some miracle happens around here. . . .

I have no real memory of the New Beginning Singers, so maybe I didn’t stay with it for long. (I’m typing this before I continue transcribing, so I might learn more about it later.)

And I need to add tongue to my list of words I couldn’t spell.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.778 [Friday, January 27, 1978]

I’m really tired of everyday [sic] being a carbon copy of the last. Hopefully that’ll change next week. . . .

The words every and day should only be one word where used as an adjective: everyday routine, everyday shoes, etc. I make much fun of the regional grocery chain Food City for its slogan “Value Everyday,” which is way wrong. “Everyday Value” would work, but to phrase it like they have it requires “Value Every Day.” Where one refers to something that happens or is present day by day, the phrase should be two words: every day. Obviously, I haven’t always known this. But I learned it and know it now, so I reserve the right — I’ve earned the right — to continue making fun of Food City. (Please read this as I wrote it, with tongue firmly planted in cheek.)

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.878 [Saturday, January 28, 1978]

Today was a “take it easy” day at home. I’m doing next to nothing, because I know that when Wednesday rolls around it’s “work city” until May. I’m glad classes are starting ’cause I’m really looking forward to this semester.

Tonight I went to Reynolds to watch Joey play ball. He did well and scored 10 points. The team was right with the Rockets until Todd got thrown out of the game in the 2nd quarter, and that was worse ’cause it wasn’t even Todd’s fault. Oh well. . . .

These days I was finding so boring were days when Mars Hill College was in its January “mini-mester” — a two-three week period when students took one special-interest course. I took handbells. The Wednesday I was anxious for was the day when the regular spring semester began.

The Reynolds Rockets was the favorite team of my friend (and preacher) Mike Tweed (and his family). I’m sure I was hanging out with them. Reynolds was — still is — a much bigger school than Madison.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.978 [Sunday, January 29, 1978]

Well, here I am, back at school. I went with the Youth Group to see the “Late Great Planet Earth” this evening. I had P——— with me in the car and we had a pretty good time. Maybe I’ll ask her out soon.

Richard Dreyfuss got “Best Actor for a Comedy or Musical” in the Golden Globe Awards tonight, Primo!!!

Tomorrow I go to register for the spring semester and I hope I don’t have much to change. . . .

The last time I saw P——— was when I played a house concert in Durham, North Carolina, on Saturday, December 1, 2012. She showed up out of the blue, and Leesa and I enjoyed seeing her. She doesn’t walk planet Earth any longer, and that’s all I’ll say about her.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 013.078 [Monday, January 30, 1978]

The Lord has been so good to me! While it seems all the people around me have to go through the hassel [sic] of corrective registration, all of my classes were accepted. I still think I’ll drop Golf. I’m really gonna be busy.

I’ve gotten off my application to Camp Grier and have also written Camp Cheerio. Hopefully, one of these will provide me with some exciting summer work.

I got a letter from Kelly today saying that she wants me to come down as soon as possible. I suppose it’ll be the weekend of the 24th, 25th, and 26th [of February 1978]. I’m really looking forward to it.

Two years later, I was 21 and making my first sojourn in Nashville, a music business major at Belmont College.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.680 [Saturday, January 26, 1980]

It’s Saturday and the morning of my Opryland audition. I’m up now trying to get my voice loosened. I probably won’t go over there ’till [sic] about noon. I know there are prayer at home about this and I have turned everything over to the will of God. I’m gonna do my best with all of the talents He gave me and the decision is up to Him.

It has been a good week. I had a studio test Tuesday; Wednesday, I don’t think I did much; Thursday I went to the Jolly Ox with Taylor and his sister where I met a lot of people, including the band, the KNott Brothers, two of which go to school at Belmont and the other sang at Opryland a couple of summers ago when I was there. They were really good. Yesterday, I think I aced a CMH test and last night I ate at Friday’s with Beth Forbis, prima-donna Southern Bell [sic] from the trip to Europe last summer.

Today I’m trying to remain calm for the task at hand. I think voice is where I should have been all along. It’s my natural gift. The flute makes me work so I think studying it was good. I was never technically prepared for any of my flute things, but in voice I’m ready . . .

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.680 [supplemental entry]

Well, I suffered my first let down in the “big city” today . . . one of the biggest let downs of my life. Obviously, I didn’t make Opryland. I did my best, not that I don’t think I was good enough, I just think they pretty well had all they wanted and didn’t need any more of my style.

It was kind of funny thought . . . I was getting into it as usual and I hear this small voice “Michael” and I suddenly realized they were through listening. I said OK. It was like Monty Python “Thank you”. I don’t mind saying I was crushed and hardly knew what to do. I just felt like God had turned his back and walked off on me. I forgot who I was and though and and did somethings [sic] I shouldn’t have. Then I finally realized that there is something better down the road for me. NOt having that job will give me more time this summer, I only pray the Lord will let me have a regular park job. Extra time will be good for school, peddling songs, etc. Maybe the Reasons auditions will turn out a bit better. The Opryland experience will be good for a joke someday should I ever make it big and play Opryland. It also gives me greater incentive to go on and, thought I hate to say it, shove their audition down their throat . . .

Looking back on this Opryland failure, I’ve realized a couple of things about it. First, given the nature of its shows, Opryland wasn’t really looking for singers (or songwriters) but for performers. A singing actor or a dancer with a good voice — even if he couldn’t play guitar — had a much greater chance of being hired than I did. I’ve never been that kind of performer, and as far as “putting on a show” goes, I’ve never been much at that anyway, even after all these years on stage.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.880 [Monday, January 28, 1980]

Today has been a good day. School was the usual descent [sic]. Tonight was the good time. I went to hear Christine [Wyrtzen] and Phil Johnson in concert tonight. I talked to Phil for about 10 minutes or so and I was really proud of myself. Putting myself through the Opryland audition was good for me ’cause I started not to go speak to him but then I decided that would be foolish so I went. He talked about his good friends Dallas and Tim and that flipped me out. I also learned that the way to get into gospel writing [is that] I’m gonna have to quit sitting waiting for inspiration are read the Word! Also, Dallas will be here July 4 or so . . .

Again, two years pass to find me 23 and living back in North Carolina, at the homeplace in Walnut.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8201.28 [Thursday, January 28, 1982]

I’m feeling a little better since my last entry [8201.21 / Thursday, January 21, 1982]. Mom and Dad have been at Jerry’s so I’ve had peace and quiet solitude here. Still, things are about the same as they were. I’m sure I’ll make it.

K——— was home this past weekend and we had a pretty good time together. We didn’t do a lot, mainly just sat around each other’s house.

Yesterday, or last night, I finished One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich so that may have been what has helped me feel better. It is such a powerful story of everyday survival and I’m very glad I read it.

I started working on a song tonight called “First Love” about the fun and mystery of it. However, it brings up the question, again, about what I should and should not write. I don’t want to write anything to lead kids or anyone else astray or anything that might be taken wrong. I want to write this song because I think it will be good but I’m going to have to be careful. It’s no secret to me that teen-age sex is a reality (I know it first hand), however, I don’t want the song to sound like I’m encouraging it so I’d better take it slow and be sure it say[s] only what it ought to.

From what I hear, Earl will be leaving for Europe tomorrow. I don’t know if that means he’ll be back later or not. I only hope he got Ron’s and my money fixed before he leaves. He’ll be going with our man from Townhouse so I hope they make big plans for me.

Meanwhile, Earl spent last weekend with Jerry Reed on a house boat and they listened to my stuff and from what I hear, Jerry really liked it. I’m not supposed to know this but JR also said that if things worked out well with the record he would like to take me on tour with him when he goes on the road this fall. This news flash may also be part of my feeling better these days.

Tomorrow Ron and I will be going to Daton, Ga. [sic] to pick up Shana so Ron can keep her for a couple of weeks. It doesn’t look like he and Patty can make amends.

Time for my devotional . . .

From my days at Mars Hill College, I had the idea of being a college professor (at some point) in mind. But I knew that I would have to go back to school to do that. And I intended to. But such tempting — distracting — little tidbits of hope as the Jerry Reed bit above always had me feeling like the beautiful highway to fame and fortune began just around the next bend in my dirt road. I’d already quit in the middle of my first semester at UNCA (Fall 1980), and I thought it probably wouldn’t be good to do that again. So, I never got started back to school.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8301.25 [Tuesday, January 25, 1983]

I didn’t realize it had been so long since my last entry. A lot of things have come and gone but the song remains the same. I’ve been in New York to meet people at Audio and see Tina and have a photo session . . . Cindy and Lynn and I set up house . . . I went home for Thanksgiving and turned 24 . . . Jack came right after the holiday and stayed a week then I went to California for 10 days . . . Tina, Linda and I joined the CA kids. My last weekend, Jack and I went to San Diego and stayed with Joy (what a crazy girl). We, Jack and I, spent a day in Mexico (Tijuana & Ensenada), then spent the next afternoon at the zoo with Joe and that night we had a real party all over San Diego with Earl Parker and a friend whose name escapes me right now [Chris] . . . I came back to Nashville and then went home for Christmas . . . When I came back I filed bankruptsy [sic]. I’ve been working at Earl’s office a lot and writing a good deal also. I think there are 11 new songs. Earl is in Europe at MIDEM but I don’t know where my record is at the moment, somewhere in the hot little hands of CBS I think. It is all just too hard to follow. There is Audio Records with Earl, Marty, Helen, and Jack W, and I don’t know who else . . . There is Zoo York records headed by the famous discoverer of talent, John Hammond . . . finally there is CBS. There is really no telling when “Fiesta” will be out but I continually wonder what kind of response it will get from the public, if it gets any at all. It’s too far out of my hands now . . .

Tina, Jack, and Linda are longtime friends met in that fateful European summer of 1979. Lynn and Cindy were singing sisters I shared a house with in Hendersonville, Tennessee, as I began my second and longer sojourn in Nashville.

Here are a couple of photos. First, from a Nashville photo session from around this time. The photo session in the post above took place in a loft in New York City. The photographer thought I was coming across as too tense, so he had me smoke some marijuana to relax. That must have worked, because I remember he even talked me into taking my shirt off for a few shots. All remained innocent — except for the smoking of pot, of course. But my naiveté was showing.

Here’s a picture that blends two parts of my life at that time. I’m with Earl Richards here, in his office, and I’m wearing a souvenir from my journey into Mexico with Jack.

Moving on, I was 26 years and a couple of months old in early 1985.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8501.27 [Sunday, January 27, 1985]

Since 8501.11 [Friday, January 11, 1985] there have been some interesting things going on in my general life. I attended the Music City News Songwriters awards with a girl named Deborah Doran who works for Alabama’s manager, Dale Morris. The day of the show, lead singer Randy Owen decided not to give away his comp tickets to friends and gave them to Deborah. We had second row seats. The show was live to Nashville and taped for other cities. I talked to Mom tonight and the show was on there last night. I was on TV several times and she was quite excited.

Last weekend, 8501.19 [Saturday, January 19, 1985], Noel, Mike Scalf and I went all the way to Greensboro, NC to catch another show by Mr. Bruce Springsteen and what a show it was. I think I’ll always remember the solo accoustic [sic] version of “No Surrender”. I spent the evening before the show with Joe, Carol, and John Johnson and we spent the night after the show a[t] Joe & Carol’s place in Salisbury. When we got up the weather had turned foul so we had to put Noel’s truck in 4-wheel drive and head home. By the way, we were dashing through the snow while the 49’ers were defeating the Dolphins 38-16 in the Superbowl. The happening that brought the most change to my immediate surroundings was Earl’s decision to move the office and I had to find a new place to live. Fortunately, Pat Gossum moved out of Noel’s house in Brentwood so there was an easy opening. Today was my first full day at 7036 Concord Rd. in Brentwood. I really like these guys alot [sic] but I’m afraid trying not to disturb them is going to inhibit my writing. We’ll just have to wait and see. Meanwhile, back in NC, Dad had an operation last week to unclog one of the main arteries to his brain. He had been experiencing some numbness in his limbs for the last few weeks and this has hopefully corrected that. He sounded fine on the phone tonight. Ernie was back in the hospital recently and making a slow recovery from intestinal blockage. She’s had a lot of problems recently so the family decided Mama Reeves would have to go to a nursing home. I’ve been hoping this would never happen, praying she would pass on before this point could be reached. I guess it must be some will of the Lord’s. She is in a home only 3 minutes from Mac in Shelby so she’ll probably get excellent care. He has several church members there so the staff will always be on their toes knowing that he could walk in at anytime. My fear is that I shall never see my Mama Reeves alive again. It is difficult . . .

Again, sadly, I have no real memory of Deborah Doran or Dale Morris or attending the Music City Songwriters awards ceremony, which I must have been really jazzed about. I heard a story that at one point Alabama’s producer Harold Shedd was interested in my music. But then he found out that I was involved with Earl Richards and apparently that involvement made him disinclined to pursue me any further than his initial interest. Maybe it was through Deborah Doran and/or Dale Morris that my music briefly made it to Shedd’s ears.

Moving on, I was 27 years old as I lived through events of January 1986.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8601.28 [Tuesday, January 28, 1986]

This morning I got a call from Noel between 11:30 and 12:00N wanting confirmation on his hearing that the space shuttle had blown up in take off this morning. I got up and turned on the TV and there it was. I tuned into the section where a camera was on the faces of the parents of Kristie McCauliffe, a school teacher from Concord, New Hampshire who was the first civilian to go into space. Her parents were watching the liftoff and I don’t really think they knew what had happened. The shuttle made it up a few miles before the explosion. It’s odd, because all morning my sleep was troubled by a dream that people I knew were on an airplane coming into some airport and I was meeting them. I watched as the plane caught a wing on the ground or something and smashed up into this huge building. I found out my friends were not on that plane but I still woke up with a great sadness and then I learned about the shuttle. I am saddened. I think I’ll go for a drive in the country today, down to Franklin maybe . . . The good news today is that R——— gave birth to a son and mother and child are doing fine. He was born early in the morning. I can’t remember her husband’s last name but it’s easy to remember the name given the baby. It is called Robert Cody. I just realized that baby could so easily have been mine. Am I an idiot? I don’t know. She was pretty but young and too close to my situation. Was it my one chance? I hope not. Anyway I am very happy for the whole family. It’s one more thing to come between Earl and getting his business done. I do feel like it’s over between us except for the actual break. I believe that I will make it one way or another but I’m not so sure about him. I would still like nothing better than for us to happen together . . .

When I wrote “that baby could so easily have been mine,” I didn’t mean to imply that any physical act potentially leading to fatherhood had taken place. My feeling — accurate or not — was that R——— had a bit of a crush on me, so that phrase meant to capture the possibilities such a crush might have led to.

It’s snowing outside the window of my office as I write this. I don’t expect it to amount to much, but it’s certainly cold out. Here’s a picture from January of ’85, I think, taken from the porch of the homeplace in Walnut.

My friends at Riverside Taphouse booked me for my second show in their great place in Elizabethton, Tennessee. This was my second appearance there. While I’ve enjoyed both, I think this one was in some ways better than the first, due to the fact that I was set up in their barroom rather than in a tent out back. (But don’t get me wrong — the tent had its charms.)

The Riverside Taphouse is owned by my former ETSU honors student Cheri Tinney and her husband Michael, who are terrific folks and terrific hosts. I wish them all the best in this brave endeavor.

I used my performer’s bar tab to relish three glasses of Highland’s Oatmeal Stout over the course of the two-set evening, and I enjoyed playing a new song — “So Much Depends” (not yet recorded).

Although I didn’t know any of the Taphouse’s regulars, they were mostly welcoming. (See picture at bottom for why I say “mostly”; the young man did, however, like my coat.) And I was pleased to have a number of friendly faces in the crowd: Leesa (of course), Sam & Sharon, Teresa & Randy, Phyllis & David, Susan & Michael, Theresa & Tim, Jen & Jeff (both former honors students as well), Loretta, Scott, Tom, and Joe — I hope I didn’t forget anybody.

First Set:

• The Light in Your Eyes
• Genesis Road
• Fiesta
• There Was Always a Train
• Heart of Gold
• The Street I Live On
• Empty Islands
• The Bells of Vimperk
• So Much Depends
• Jamboree

Second Set:

• She’s a Wild One
• Best I’ve Ever Seen
• Brandy
• You’ve Got Something I Need
• Complaints
• Dizzy from the Distance
• Fresh Horses
• Lean on Me
• Rain on the River
• Homecoming

Unless you’re like the guy below, you can check out these songs — most of them — on my Soundcloud page.