Category: blog

“Waiting To Understand”

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I wrote this song a while back, and have played it a bunch live and on my BlogTV show, but never got around to recording it.

Well, thanks to some prodding from my friend Julia (sjnb3) here it is on YouTube.

I hope y’all enjoy it…

Waiting To Understand

Sunrise over the Rio de la Plata
Buenos Aires early morning gloom
Wheels down…I walked on out of the airport
and the taxi man carried me ’round to my hotel room.

Sittin’ alone in Plaza de Mayo
They walked on by in scarves of white with signs
Mothers of the Disappeared….esperandan como siempre
para los chicos que nunca vienen
those children…never comin’ back again

Chorus
They’re waitin’ just to understand the sadness
They’re runnin’ outta…just a matter of time
Hey now everybody’s waiting for something
Something that nobody easily finds

She headed on out to Boulder Colorado
She said their hearts would always be as one
Now he calls & she don’t call back for days at a time
and when she does she’s always on the run

He’s waiting just to understand the sadness…

She took his ring, he told her that he loved her
He said the years would surely treat them well
Now sometimes he don’t come home for days at a time
and when he does she tells him “Just go to Hell!”

She’s waiting just to understand the sadness…

Lights Out (Earth Hour)

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This is my latest original song, inspired by the 2009 Earth Hour.


As it turned out, I wasn’t able to turn out all of my lights because I was busy editing the video…trying to get it live by 8:30 local time (an epic Fail).

A Small Part of History

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It’s hard to believe that 4 months have passed since my previous post. A lot has happened. Lots of changes. A new season. A new President. A new economic crisis.

Change is good, right? Well, maybe not all of it.

I guess I made a conscious decision somewhere along the way to sit out the election season. It wasn’t that I had no opinions…no, I had plenty. I think instead it was just a sense of frustration in the process and the inability to see any real change in the making. Which is odd, considering both the major candidates were running on a platform of Change.

But here we are, and I find myself convinced that yet another fraud has been foisted upon the unwitting American public. The press has colluded with the powers that be to render the voice of the people ineffective and void. Sure we had a choice. I just wished there was one I could get behind.

So along came election day and I prepared myself to perform my civic duty. Still, I could not decide.

Hours remained until the first results were to start coming in, and I could not make a selection. The press had convinced me that my vote was useless in any case, that my residency in Connecticut ensured that my electors would be voting for Sen. Obama regardless of my ballot. So why, I wondered, should I bother?

I decided to make a difference anyway. I took my son with me, two days shy of turning nine, and a video camera. I filmed as we drove, explaining to him that HE would be making our choice for President. As I could not decide, HIS would be the vote that would not count. OK, I didn’t put it exactly that way…

He earnestly protested, saying that he could TELL ME who to vote for, but that the law required me to actually CAST THE VOTE. Despite my attempts to convince him otherwise…that we could get permission from the election officials, and that I was sure it would be OK…I finally agreed to his compromise.

We entered the polling place, and got our ballot. I prepared my black marker to fill in the correct bubble, and bent down so that he could whisper his choice in my ear…”John McCain” he told me.

So be it…choice made. The bubble was filled in, as well as the requisite additional local choices, and we were off to the ballot reader to submit the document.

Strangely, allowing an almost-nine-year-old to fill in the bubble for our choice on the ballot was an act of treason, but depositing the completed document in the electronic scanner was perfectly permissible…and so he sent our ballot off into the void of useless votes.

Outside the polling place I asked him the reasoning behind his choice for President. He explained that he felt Sen. McCain’s service to the country in the military was the main criteria which qualified him to lead our country, and that even though most of his friends thought Sen. Obama should be President, he wasn’t afraid to believe otherwise.

Tears nearly filled his eyes the next morning when I informed him that Barack Obama would be our next President. I think he was more concerned that his friends would make fun of him (they didn’t) than anything else. But I knew at that moment that my vote…our vote…HAD made a difference.

It made a difference because my son had a chance to be a part of it. He participated in the American Experiment. He somehow could feel what it meant, and not only learned about the process, but also about what it means to stand up for your beliefs in the face of disagreement.

I doubt he understood the ramifications of the election…I doubt any of us will truly understand them for years or decades to come. But I think that he felt a little bit of what it means to be a part of history…a small part.

So now we all will sit back and wait to see what changes will come. I think we’ll all be disappointed.

Change rarely comes in drastic abundance. Change in this Grand Republic comes in trickles and drops. And while our destiny is certainly in the hands of our leaders, so too is it in our own hands. Will we rally together behind this new administration, or will we fall to bickering and blaming of the other side?

Time and history will tell.

We are all part of history. That lesson is the most important one to be learned as an American.

freedom

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Flying low, into the wind
Halfway through the mountains
Dreams abandoned and embraced
The time imagined behind.

Shadows creeping among
The red sun signposts
A hundred and sixty horses
Carry me through the fire.

The cool morning breeze
I stand naked on this rock
Darkness behind my back
The fire rises, blinding my eyes.

She called and I followed alone
Lost along The Highway of the Sun
I am too hungry to sleep.

©2008 – Jamie Gray – All Rights Reserved

inspiration

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It comes from the oddest sources. You may not even know or remember from where.

Most of the time, my inspiration comes from other people. I am inspired when I see someone helping his neighbor. I am inspired by the artwork that is created by others. I am inspired by the way that people triumph in the face of adversity.

I am also inspired by the other side of human nature. By the way that people exploit and take advantage of others. Abuse and injure those around them. Discard acts of kindness and repay others with malice. I am inspired to act…to make a difference. To try to make us all treat each other a little better.

I am inspired by nature, and the beauty that she fill our lives with…and by the seemingly belligerent actions of mankind, spoiling and defacing all that is pristine in our zeal for advancement. I am inspired by our leaps into exploration…and by the short-sightedness of our vision. I am inspired by our leaders…and by their failures to act in a way befitting their position.

I am inspired by all things, and in each there is a lesson and a source of joy. When that lesson becomes a poem, I have found a way to share the inspiration. When that joy becomes a song, I have found a way to pass the good feelings on to those around me.

When I embrace my inspiration. When I am inspired to action. When I have found a way to share my joy or my sorrow.

When I have completed the circle, only then I have honored the source of my inspiration. Perhaps I have also been fortunate enough to inspire others to do the same.

the future, now and then

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Every so often, I like to go and dig up some old music and listen. Really listen. I am always amazed at how different it seems now…than it did then.

Then. Where was I when I first heard that? Who was it who introduced me to it? What did I think about life? Where, back then, did I think I would be now?

Today, I’m sitting in my home office, looking out over the small lake that I am grateful and fortunate to live beside. Today, I don’t feel fortunate, as I have just heard that a 14 year old child may have just drowned.

No one knows who the child was…well, someone does. Just no one I have talked to. I don’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. Somehow, I don’t want to know. All I can think about is being 14.

At that age, there is nowhere but the future. All you can think about is what you will do…someday. When you are old enough. When you grow up. The past is just yesterday, and you think of it only because of the plans you made for tomorrow. You never think that tomorrow might not arrive.

So, it’s only 4:30, but I’m pretty sure my work day is done. My focus is gone, and this news is truly overwhelming. I’m resigning myself to reflection and redirection.

Eventually, I’ll probably pick up the guitar, for no other reason than to be one with the music of my own soul. Through each note I’ll try to teach my brain how my heart sees the world, and in some small way maybe I’ll come to a place of understanding.

First I’ll probably check on my son…I’m sure he is OK. He’s 8 years old, and most likely in front of his computer. I’m not worried. I have no reason to be worried.

Still though, not far from where I sit there are parents, no doubt in tears over the tragedy which has just occurred. A few short minutes ago, they probably weren’t worried either. For me, it is a time to count blessings. A time to number the herd. A time to be sure of the things that mean the most.

Later I’ll probably put on some old music…something that reminds me of Then. When I was 14, and the World wouldn’t wait until I was old enough…grown up. When tomorrow would surely come.