I love rock’n’roll, and when I say I’m in love you must believe I’m in love L.U.V.. You can’t hurry love, can’t buy me love, love is all around. I’m in the mood for love, let my love open the door. Love is a many splendored thing. I love L.A., I love New York. Chuck E’s in love, real love. How deep is your love? I believe in a thing called love, addicted to love, love is the answer. The best of my love.
Many of you have sent some wonderful emails and messaged me on Facebook wanting to hear some of the music I have been fortunate enough to write and record over the years. Wanting to share some with you, I began to go through the available YouTube videos (WordPress asks for money if you want to use Mp3’s, but allows video links) and realized I had published many of them previously, so I set about to create some that NO ONE has seen. Most of the new ones in this column are just a snapshot or two so I could post the songs, but 1 or 2 are a little more filled out. Regardless, it’s just about the music anyway, so I hope you enjoy them.
The Corona School of Writing, Weinhard’s Private Reserve, record labels (major and independent) and just about everyone I have ever really known. So I sit here quaffing the ice cold Weinhard, waiting for that writing buzz and wondering where I will go with this because I have no real idea where I am going, only where I have been. I have been lucky, lucky like I cannot believe, but not lucky of my own making. I have been surrounded by good people— no, people more than good— and it is time I pay tribute to those and those things which have made me who I am.
Life is a lot like the crack-lines in a sheet of ice when you hit it with a hammer. They scatter out in all sorts of unpredictable directions and there’s no real way to predict where they will end up.
When I was a kid, photographs were precious. In the days before digital cameras and cell phones with photo capability, the taking of a picture was a big deal … families went to a lot of trouble to capture moments in time.
A small debate unfolded online this week concerning hard work vs. luck. I have always maintained, and still do, that all my successes have been from hard work. All my failures have been from my lack of hard work. Luck is something reserved for casinos and in finding four leaf clovers (ironically).
Of course when it comes to kings and rock’n’roll there was only one, Elvis Aaron Presley. The late Michael Jackson was the self-proclaimed “King of Pop” but really he was only the king of moonwalking, crotch-grabbing and annoying little “whoo’s”. Let’s talk a look at some “King” songs and other assorted kings.