lucky dog to see hendrix. My mother prevented my escape going to woodstock. Yep caught me trying to get into my friends VW bus... would have loved to see him play the national anthem at the end. Bet you have very vivid memories of that man, what a genious with the guitar. ginnie

Ginnie, this is the You Tube address for The Humbling River:
http://youtu.be/O0YxeTjFn70

Thank you for this!

I really believe in the message. Glad you liked it.
Also re-listened to that gal play hendrix. Love it when we all share music. Music connects us all.
Hope you are OK Bob. Have you had enough snow and cold yet? Waiting down here for spring. Unusually cold spring. Sat on my butt and pulled up Mexican petunas, that are taking over my yard today. Was in the 50's so I guess I can't complain. Better to do it now than in the heat of summer. Take care. ginnie

Actually, what I wanted to do was to rig up a Faraday cage and breed it with a theremin. A big one - maybe 12 x 12. Then I would slip into a "Suit of Lights" - a jumpsuit covered with sensors of every sort and slabs of LEDs. Then I would go nuts. With that much tech it doesn't matter if you got rhythm or nor. Play that funky music, White Boy!

Allow me to give all of you who think us just bunch of KnowNots a lesson on this. I always carried a secret with me. It lived down in my chest very near my heart. You see, I wanted to dance! To completely subsume my Self in the rhythm. I even briefly considered majoring in moden dance. Yeah, the chubby little Hillbilly had a secret Boogie Jones hidden away.

The problem was that it was so hidden away that it was barely there. I was simply too bashful and too aware of the opinion of others to chance getting my chubby little butt out there. I was "too cool". Then, one day I came to realize that PD had taken away my choice. I was never going to dance over that rainbow. I had blown it for the most stupid of reasons - vanity! I actually cared about what people who didn't know me thougt about how I "shook that thing". I was doomed to be a Closet Dancer the rest of my days.

I still shake the old booty from time to time, but that is a far cry from my original vision. And so, while I cannot perform the dance, I can sing the song. Not the one that the others sing, but one of my own. And there are times when the night is dark and the wind howls through the treetops outside my door that powerful forces strike a rhythm that cannot be denied. It is then that I move.

I actually gave up a Dream for such stupid reasons! But I still have a little warm place next to the song in my heart. It is shaped like a dance. And I am actually on YouTube dancing in front of millions of people. But it is not the same somehow.

But there was one time that the mojo did arise and gave me a brief burst of strength. It was at a local venue that had somehow booked a lineup that included Alejandro Escavido. (His version of Jimmie Rogers song "California Blues" alone is to die for.) My wife and I were sitting there at intermission and the PA system was playing. I honestly don't know just what because what happened next kind of scrambled the circuits.

I was contemplating the idiocy of Man and that particular one especially. My failing in that area was highlighted by my wife's presence. She can Dance! And I don't mean half-way either! She could dance the pattern off a magic carpet and she does it without even knwing that it is happening. And you talk about a Hot Mama! She still is but in those days....

And so something in me stirred and was not going to be denied. I stood up and, to her surprise, I led her to a part of the floor where the shadows dwelled. And I danced. It would have looked somewhat less than a miracle to those who knew nothing about the forces involved. And those who really danced would have seen nothing but an obstacle to avoid. But, by god, I was going, that one time, to Dance with her in my arms. And I did. Four or five songs later the Galactic Demons regained control - or so they thought. I turned back into a toad and she a princess. At least for a few more years.

Well, that one took on a life of its own, but it feels pretty good. But I promised a lesson learned that I would share. Actually, it is a hybrid lesson with part coming from my mind and the rest coming from that Buddhist genius...., Dave Barry. We would like to tell you that very few guys are good dancers. We are loaded with self conscious crap from Day One. And most of us bear the White Curse. We really don't know how to react to a beat. And so, if there is a Dancer hiding in there be aware that the number of times that you will have the opportunity to dance is finite. There will come a morning when you look in the mirror and realize, as I did, that you have waited too long. Then you should weep. Or challenge the gods one more time and grab your lover and twirl. We all live on borrowed time. That realization is the one thing of value that has come to me via PD.

And to paraphrase Dave Barry - When you think that everyone is watching you dance and you are sure that they are laughing at you, they almost certainly are not. And if they are, screw 'em. Dance anyway.

In the grip of the Boogie Monster (Turn it way up. Bad recording.)

Boogie, dance, shake anyway you want. Loose yourself in what ever rythem you have. It is good for the body, mind and soul. It is never too late to shake that thing. (I do in private all the time) ginnie

Loved watching you dance. Keep it up, it is good for all of us to be inspired, no matter what out medical conditions are. Think I will do the same tonight! ginnie

Awesome, Rick. Awesome.
And that video of you dancing was one of the two items that got me active in the Parkinson's scene: the other item being the neuro with the best-selling book in which it was stated that the mentally ill, with Parkinson's or schizophrenia, cannot follow rythym and cannot dance, and are therefore not trust-worthy. Them wuz fightin' words, so used your dancing video as my first line of counter-attack, and i put it on the front page.
Rock on, rock on

“It amazes us that a Canadian official would indulge in such bloodlust,” Dan Mathews, senior vice-president of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, told the Toronto Star. (The official had accepted an Inuit invitation to eat seal meat with them).

“It sounds like she’s trying to give Canadians an even more Neanderthal image around the world than they already have.”

“Neanderthals”, you said. “Bloodlust”, you said.

Mari Boine’s people are meat eaters, (Saami in northern Norway); as are the Inuit, and all people in the Circumpolar Alliance, where fruit, vegetables and cereal do not grow. The circumpolar people have been there for 5,000 years, eating meat and fish. Then the white men arrived: Mari describes the cultural collapse of her people this way: “First, men came with Bibles, then men came with brandy, and then men came with bayonets.” A one-sentence history lesson.
PETA and the Toronto Star, you have not earned the right to tell Mari Boine what to eat or how to live. You have not earned the right to impose your latest fads on her. You have not even earned the right to get down on your knees and wash her feet.

She is a hundred floors above you in the Tower of Life.

In the hand of the night, with thousands of years of life woven into it.
The song of the permanence of rocks combined with the song of our temporary lives; the song of what we see combined with the song of the unseen. The art of Mari Boine, who sings of her people, the people of the deer.
Look deeply into her face. Go pre-verbal, go “primitive” and dance. If this is Neanderthal then let's be Neanderthal and proud. And turn it up LOUD. This is “primitive”. Shut down your worried mind, and imagine yourself in her tribe, dancing in the dark, proud and strong and FREE.

http://youtu.be/aYevBLUtuLc

You gave me a gift with Mari Boine and an education as well. Loved the music and now am looking at more of her music. People have a tendency to judge others when they know nothing about the culture or the person. Small minds.... Thank you for this music. ginnie

It is now 1 and a half hour later, and I can't stop listening to Mari Boine, what other music you have up your sleeve. If it is good as this, I might never get off the computer. ginnie