by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE © All rights reserved 2021Crumble Cult Philosophy (Postcard Set #2) — unbolt me
It took all day to make
Only minutes to eat
Topped with desserts so sweet
©2021 Annette Rochelle AbenStuffing — Annette Rochelle Aben
Doing her marketing She saw the man next door Knowing he was cash poor She hatched a plan She loaded up her cart With his favorite foods The things he just might use For his suppers As she was checking out Paid for delivery Bags of groceries three Added a tip ©2021 Annette Rochelle AbenBeing Neighborly — Annette Rochelle Aben
Doing her marketing
She saw the man next door
Knowing he was cash poor
She hatched a plan
She loaded up her cart
With his favorite foods
The things he just might use
For his suppers
As she was checking out
Paid for delivery
Bags of groceries three
Added a tip
©2021 Annette Rochelle Aben
When one blog starts to get close to being filled up, I start another:
New posts will be made. there, unless I forget and post them here.
The Artist’s Ego (Brucie’s Three Steps to Creative Happiness)
Bruce Dalzell at the Front Room
Bruce Dalzell | Patriarch of Athens Music
SAD NEWS: J.D. Hutchison Has Died
Reviewed in the United States on March 15, 2019
This album opens strongly with his blues song “Little Legs Moan”: “‘Don’t want to hurt you’ / That’s what she said / She did not hurt me, boys / She killed me stone dead / With the little legs moan.”
These lines from “Another Fool’s Café” shows his way of poetry-izing lyrics: “There’s always an empty table or two / It’s a hill jack twilight zone / The door is always open / And the lights are always on / Ain’t no bottom to the bottle, boys / No difference in the night and day / There ain’t no hands on the clock / In another fool’s café.”
Another standout song is his “Since My Bird has Flied Away,” which has been covered by Ingrid Lucia & The Flying Neutrinos, John Kirkpatrick and Chris Parkinson, and The Local Girls. Any singer-songwriter will probably tell you that the ultimate compliment is other people covering your songs. A few lyrics: “I need to change my head around / Maybe trip out to the zoo / Take a walk downtown / Hell, I don’t know what to do / But nothing seems to matter / Since my bird has flied away.” The bird, of course, is a woman.
Readers of this review should make heavy use of Amazon’s preview snippets of J.D. Hutchison’s songs on this page. Fans of roots music (defined as various combinations of blues, folk, country, bluegrass, and whatever else the singer-songwriter knows will make the song better) will find much to like. J.D. Hutchison is a regionally famous singer-songwriter who in my humble opinion ought to be at least nationally famous — and a whole lot richer. Better late than later.
I love this album, all songs of which are by J.D. Hutchison.
By the way, all the lyrics of this album can be seen at <http://www.jdhutchison.com/lyrics.html>.
Support local music, and be aware that in the age of the Internet and the WWW, Athens County is local worldwide.
Terry Smith: “Athens music scene loses big part of its heart and soul; goodbye J.D.”
The tight-knit Athens music community took a major hit Tuesday, Nov. 2,  when singer/songwriter/picker/raconteur/bandleader J.D. Hutchison succumbed to cancer. In late October as word spread that Hutchison’s time was short, tributes flooded social media from near and far. They haven’t stopped since his passing.
Like so many others, I had tremendous respect and admiration for John, both as a person and a musician. He was among the most interesting, funny, iconoclastic and massively talented individuals I’ve ever known. He couldn’t speak a line of song or sentence without injecting a dollop of his singular perspective and wit into it.
Read the rest here:
We find our first mentors right beside us as we’re born and grow: fathers and mothers, older sisters and brothers. We find other mentors out in the greater world as we come of age. J.D. Hutchison was one to me. We were fast friends from our first meeting in ‘74, and he taught me so much by example, and encouraged me as an artist and musician to follow the heart.
J.D. was a true renaissance man who studied the many facets of our world and reflected upon them all as a cartoonist, actor, songwriter and musician. Despite his relative obscurity–he served as a sort of court jester of the college town of Athens, Ohio for much of his life–he influenced a great many people in his 81 years. He made us laugh as we looked deeper.
John was anti-music business and you had to tease song pitches out of him, like when my band Hot Rize grabbed “My Little Darlin’” after he sang it to me a capella just outside a honkytonk men’s room door. His performances, whether as a solo, with his bluegrass brother Robert as The Hutchison Brothers or with the rock band Hillbilly Jive, were exciting, entertaining and vital, each one a unique experience. As good as his onstage performances were, it was in conversation that he really shone. He was always engaged, interested, generous and thoughtful.
On our last meeting, Jan and I had a short but wonderful visit with J.D. — going for fish sandwiches at Miller’s, hearing new and old poems and songs played on his piano in his spartan apartment where he displayed his assortment of barometers and umpteen Scrabble sets. He was wearing a t-shirt that said “Master of the Tiles.” Love was shared as always, and that love remains now and will remain for as long as I live.
I remember Frank McDermott letting me take an accordion I was thinking about buying over to J.D. at Casa to see what he thought about it. J.D. set the case down on the floor by his booth, opened the case and immediately started playing a tune. Sherrie turned down the music in the restaurant and J.D. carried on playing like he was in his living room. Well of course, he was.
Friend, mentor, bench warmer, artist, bard, and family member, J.D. was all these things to me. He gave of himself to all around him with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He loved young folks and was always encouraging their dreams, musical or otherwise. He was my “Funkle” and I was/am honored to have him in my life. All hail The Last of the Iron-Assed Folksingers!
I feel blessed by every moment I had with J.D., first just loving his musicianship and later in fascinating conversations that left me marveling at the wise insights he so casually dispensed. J.D. treated friends like family, and I never saw him act superior to any other person, not once. He would call me Steven, and in parting company he’d make this hand gesture, kind of cockin’ it at me, and his eyes always seemed to twinkle when he smiled farewell. I’ll carry J.D.’s wonderful songs, endearing smile and twinkling eyes in my heart always.
See More Tributes Here:
TUESDAY NIGHT SONGWRITER CIRCLE.
Meet Tuesdays 7pm in the 1804 Room of Baker Center at Ohio University.
Ohio University Singer-Songwriter Circle On Pinterest
She had the temerity
To shine like the sun
Thanks to generosity
Of those who donated clothes
©2021 Annette Rochelle AbenNew to Her — Annette Rochelle Aben
• When he was 21, Luigi (Eugene Facciuto) was paralyzed in a car accident. Physicians told him that he would never walk again, but all he could think about was dancing again. An operation on his eyes, which was necessary because the car accident had crushed his head, left him permanently cross-eyed. However, he kept hearing a voice that told him, “Never stop moving, kid. If you stop moving, you’re dead. Don’t ever stop moving.” Through ballet lessons, he was able to rehabilitate himself, and he ended up dancing alongside people such as Gene Kelly. However, he was forced to become a jazz dancer rather than a ballet dancer because his crossed eyes made it impossible for him to perform pirouettes — he couldn’t spot. He once auditioned for Lucia Chase and all went well until she asked him to perform some turns in the air. Because of his crossed eyes, he couldn’t. He remembers hearing Ms. Chase say, “I thought they said he could dance.” As a jazz dancer, he performed with Judy Garland, Leslie Caron, Cyd Charisse, Donald O’Connor, and Vera Ellen. Luigi’s most important motto throughout his life has been this: “Never stop moving.”
• In April of 1960, a blizzard hit Cincinnati. Young Suzanne Farrell and her mother still made it to an audition for the National Ballet of Canada. However, a chilly journey that lasted over three hours and left no time for Suzanne to warm up took its toll on her and she did not dance well. Still, she says, she danced nowhere near as badly as the National Ballet of Canada told her mother she did. Suzanne says, “I was absolutely crushed. I was ready to give up ballet at fourteen. Then I thought it over, and decided, well, I didn’t like that company very much anyway.” The very next month New York City Ballet dancer Diana Adams discovered her, and Suzanne received a Ford Foundation Scholarship to study at the School of American Ballet. Of course, Suzanne became a superstar of ballet. By the way, in 1961 a representative of the National Ballet of Canada saw Suzanne taking class and said, “Should you decide to join us ….” Suzanne did not let the representative finish: “Sorry, I have something better to do.”
• When Laura Ingalls Wilder, author of Little House on the Prairie, and her husband first arrived at their Rocky Ridge Farm in Missouri, they stayed in a log cabin that had a fireplace but no windows. When they needed more light, they simply knocked out some of the chinking between logs — this let in more light, but it also let in the wind and rain. Later, they built a much nicer house to live in. And while living in Burr Oak, Iowa, she was excited when she found a bullet hole in a door of the hotel where she and her family were living. A husband had gotten drunk, and being angry at his wife, he had tried to shoot her. The wife slammed the door behind her and got away safely.
• As an adult, E.B. White wrote Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little. When he was a little boy attending his first day of kindergarten, he was annoyed by a little girl who wanted to hold his hand. By the way, as a famous author, Mr. White was often asked to make speeches, but he suffered from stage fright, so he used to decline these invitations by writing, “I am incapable of making a speech.” Also by the way, while working at The New Yorker, Mr. White declined to come in for regular hours, although he did turn in his work on time. In fact, he once set off for a vacation in Maine — without first informing The New Yorker.
• J.R.R. Tolkien was grading a stack of examination papers at Oxford University when he came across an exam that hadn’t been completed. In the empty space at the bottom of the exam, he wrote, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.” Later, Mr. Tolkien said, “Names always generate a story in my mind: eventually I thought I’d better find out what hobbits are like.” This single sentence at the bottom of an unfinished exam led to Tolkien’s books The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.
Copyright by Bruce D. Bruce; All Rights Reserved
Boredom is Anti-Life — Buy
BRUCE’S RECOMMENDATION OF BANDCAMP MUSIC
Album: HANG 10 WITH GEIN AND THE GRAVEROBBERS
Artist: Gein and the Graverobbers
Artist Location: Los Angeles, California USA
“Gein and the Graverobbers was an instrumental horror surf band from Boston Mass. From 1999-2009 we released 1 EP and 3 albums and toured all over the U.S. and Europe.”
Inferneaux, a fan, wrote, “It’s good instrumental surf rock; it automatically turns any day into a good day.”
Price: $1 (USD) for track; $5 (USD) for 15-track album
Genre: Horror Surf Instrumentals
ONE OF THESE SEEMS TO BE A BETTER USE OF MONEY THAN THE OTHER
Top and Middle:
You can buy a pair of $495 socks from
For $50, you can give someone the gift of eyesight:
Little scraps left behind Were approached with fear Nervous someone was near Hunger won out The shaking puppy starved By months out in the cold Decided to be bold And eat the food The soft-hearted young boy Knew what he had to do His pantry he’d go through To feed this dog Hoping he’d get […]Caring to Share — Annette Rochelle Aben
Little scraps left behind
Were approached with fear
Nervous someone was near
Hunger won out
The shaking puppy starved
By months out in the cold
Decided to be bold
And eat the food
The soft-hearted young boy
Knew what he had to do
His pantry he’d go through
To feed this dog
Hoping he’d get closer
So daily he’d arrive
To keep that dog alive
Tears in his eyes
This went on for a week
One day when he arrived
He got a big surprise
The pup came close
He held his breath a bit
Spread his coat on the ground
And gently he sat down
Near his new friend
©2021 Annette Rochelle Aben