“Magical places are always beautiful and deserve to be contemplated. Always stay on the bridge between the invisible and the visible.” Paolo Coelho
Found on Pinterest
This is heavenly…no phones, no social media, no distractions; simply a butterfly-filled meadow alongside a sunshiny, babbling brook.
This pic reminds me of one of my favorite songs by (who else) Leon Russell, Down On Deep River. It evokes the perfect, serene mood…
“Hear the crickets singing for a mile And the sound of the bullfrogs make you smile So lead me beside the still waters Let me love you down on deep river.
Won’t you sit by my side And hold to my hand and love me all the way?
And we’ll leave all the highways far behind And just take a little blanket with the wine.”
Did you know that the Master of Space and Time had a long association with The Rolling Stones? He arranged and played on many of their songs, as well as performed covers that I feel were superior to the Stones in every way, but then, I’m totally biased.
Photo found on Insta
Here’s a few examples:
I’m pretty sure that’s Leon counting 1-2-3.
Leon also provided piano and horn arrangements. You can always tell it’s Leon by his signature glissandos.
Here’s an early version of Wild Horses with Leon Russell on the organ during a session for Sticky Fingers 12/04/1969-70.
And my favorite version of Wild Horses by Leon on Stop All That Jazz.
Leon referred to himself as a blues hound. In one interview, he said some musicians he worked with suffered from “jazz damage”. When Leon Russell referred to “jazz damage”, he was jokingly expressing his concern about music producer Tommy LiPuma’s extensive work with smooth, commercialized jazz artists and how that might have diminished his feel for blues and rock.
Here’s more:
In a 2014 interview about his album Life Journey, Russell recalled telling producer Tommy LiPuma, “I was concerned he might have jazz damage.” His reasoning was that LiPuma had previously produced successful records for jazz-pop artists like George Benson, Diana Krall, and Natalie Cole, which Russell saw as a departure from the grittier, blues-based music he favored.
His comment was not a condemnation of jazz as a whole but rather a witty, playful remark referencing his own background. LiPuma proved Russell’s fear was unfounded. The two had a productive collaboration and Leon happily noted that LiPuma was an “old blues hound like me, which was great”.
In the midst of this dystopian hellscape in which we’re enmired, something beautiful happened in my little beachy town, a glimmer of hope that humanity is not completely dead.
A hundred or so of our neighbors showed up to celebrate the retirement of everyone’s favorite mail carrier.
When news spread throughout his neighborhood routes that our special and beloved mailman was retiring after forty-two years, a plan was formed to host a potluck in his honor at our local park.
This guy has been more than someone who simply delivers our mail; he’s become one of the family. There are few people who have an inner light that shines brightly. We all have been touched by his many kindnesses and we wanted to return the love, not that we haven’t gifted him with things over the years, but this needed to be a spectacular celebration, a send-off he’d remember.
Families from all of his routes showed up with food, decorations, and gifts. People we’ve said hi to for decades now had a name, and we shared stories about our personal experiences; especially his sweet tooth!
Since I’m known to be extra, I contacted our mayor and asked him if he could possibly create some sort of formal commendation or award to present to this exemplary human. He liked the idea which had actually never been done in the history of our city, and asked me to write a little speech for him, which I did. He took it a step further and created Mailman Steve Day and presented him with a framed award.
It was an old-fashioned community gathering, enjoying a beautiful SoCal evening AND happily for me, a little Leon Russell chat.
I yelled out to a neighbor, “Hey, Leon!” because he has long white hair and a beard, so of course I always refer to him as “Leon”, and another neighbor said, “Why do you call him Leon? That’s Jim.” and I told him it’s because he looks like Leon Russell. His response was, “How do you know about Leon Russell? Do you know Mad Dogs and Englishmen?” I showed him the playlist on my phone and told him to pick a favorite Leon Russell song and he chose two of my personal faves, “Girl From The North Country” and “Cry Me a River”.
Someone else requested “Tight Rope” and “A Song For You” and as a crowd gathered, we had a proper singalong. These guys knew every word and we all marveled at the musical genius of the one and only Master of Space and Time. #goodtimes
Best of all for me is that I’m still referred to as “Jason’s mom” even after all these years. It was so heartwarming to have several forty-year-olds (!) fondly remembering the backyard skate ramp and shared lovely memories about my original angel boy. I am so very proud to be Jason’s mom.
This happy community gathering to honor our mailman shows me that there IS hope for our country, even if it’s hanging on by a thread.
P.S. Next Saturday, October 18, is another day to protest the regime, another NO KINGS DAY, and I’ll be on the frontlines to again gather with my neighbors, this time to protect free speech and save America.
Yom Kippur starts at sundown and now we are embroiled in a government closure because the repubs are all insane and will do anything to NOT release the Epstein files, apparently at any cost.
Did you see the debacle of the gathering of generals in Virginia who had to sit there and listen to the felon and his drunken lapdog? Good for them for not applauding and for looking stoic and aghast. Maybe there’s SOME hope for us. Maybe.
Lately, we’ve heard a lot of talk from the orange POS and his worm-brained head of Health and Human Services (what a joke) about acetaminophen causing autism. The brand Tylenol came out with a classy response.
When I was in the teaching program, one of my student teaching experiences was in a classroom where the students had some form of autism. This was an area that I planned to focus on as an educator. I never pursued it, but I learned that all children learn in different ways and it’s up to teachers and parents to respect the differences and help them achieve academically as well as being compassionate to these special little beings.
The Māori word for autism is Takiwātanga, which translates to “in their own time and space”. Created by Māori linguist and rangatira (chief) Keri Opai, this term was developed to describe the unique experience of individuals on the autism spectrum. It reflects the idea that autistic people have their own unique timing, pacing, and way of experiencing the world.
This sounds like the perfect time for another version of “A Song for You” by the Master of Space and Time, Leon Russell, of course. So mercurial, he added something special to every performance, in his own time and space.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about T-I-M-E. Time flies. I hate to be late; I like to be ON TIME. Does time really exist at all or have we been brainwashed to think iit does?
Too much thinking about time as ephemeral makes me anxious. Too much thinking about anything does the same thing. My non-logical mind has determined that TIME itself isn’t the issue; THINKING about it IS and it makes my brain melt, just like Dali’s clocks.
Salvador Dalí
“Time doesn’t exist, clocks exist. Time is just an agreed upon construct.” — David Foster Wallace
“It takes just one unattended moment for an hour to pass.” ― Sherod Santos,Square Inch Hours: Poems
Santos was born in South Carolina, graduated from San Diego State University, and studied at the University of California, Irvine. I never met him when I attended SDSU, but I knew ABOUT him; all of us who studied creative writing and poetry knew about “Rod” Santos and W.S. Merwin and Glover Davis, who was actually my professor.
David Foster Wallace was an acclaimed American writer known for his fiction, nonfiction, and critical essays that explored the complexities of consciousness, irony, and the human condition. Wallace wrote the novel Infinite Jest.
“The Persistence of Memory” is an iconic 1931 surrealist oil painting by Salvador Dalí, famous for its “melting” clocks draped over a desolate, dream-like landscape inspired by his Catalonian home. The painting uses a paranoiac-critical method to explore the subconscious, with the distorted clocks symbolizing the fluidity and subjectivity of time, influenced by Freudian psychology and potentially Einstein’s theory of relativity. From Google.
Could Leon Russell’s version of As Time Goes By be the best ever? I think so…mature Leon was awesome, too.
Because both of the Angel Kids’ eyes literally roll back in their heads when I make them listen to Leon Russell music, I found a slightly obscure song called “Too Much Monkey Business”. It’s more spoken than sung, like a precursor to rap music, and was written by Chuck Berry in 1956.
I played it and the Angels started singing along, as it’s a very catchy tune. I’d call out “How much monkey business” and they’d respond, “Too much monkey business!”
This song is totally earworm-worthy because they couldn’t stop singing it to themselves. All day long, during breakfast and helping to organize their books so we could donate some, I heard them quietly repeat “too much monkey business”, or “too much for me to be involved in.”
I said, “Cool song, huh?” as I planned my final move in my neverending quest to make them love Leon as much as I do.
When we sat on the sofa together after dinner playing card games, I asked Siri to play “Too Much Monkey Business” by Leon Russell and AB said, “Wait, that was LEON? It didn’t sound like him!” I replied, “That was my little joke. You had no idea you were singing one of his songs hahahahaha!”
Too late to stop it from happening; the lyrics are firmly embedded in their brains. They changed the words to: “How much Grandma business?” and “Too much Grandma business.”
They grudgingly agreed it was GOOD but asked me to pleasepleaseplease stop dancing because I was embarrassing them. I can only imagine the many ways I’ll be an embarrassment when they’re teenagers. It’s a rite of passage. They can ask their dad for confirmation.
Those kids are uber funny but I won. They’re now listening to and appreciating the Master of Space and Time–in spite of themselves. My work here is done.
Runnin’ to and fro, hard workin’ at the mill Never failed in the mail, yet come a rotten bill Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Salesman talking to me tryin’ to run me up a creek Say, “You can buy it, go on, try it, you can pay me next week” ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Blonde-haired, good lookin’ tryin’ to get me hooked Want me to marry, get a home, settle down, write a book, ha Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Same thing every day, gettin’ up, goin’ to school No need to be complainin’, my objections overruled, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Payphone, somethin’ wrong, dime gone, will mail I ought to sue the operator for tellin’ me a tale, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
I been to Yokohama, been fightin’ in the war Army bunk, army chow, army clothes, army car, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Workin’ in the fillin’ station, too many tasks Wipe the windows, check the tires, check the oil, dollar gas, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business I don’t want your botheration, get away, leave me be
I love it when someone sends pictures of Leon that I hadn’t previously seen. These photos were taken in Detroit; the one on the left was at the Eastown Theater (1970) and on the right, Cobo Arena in 1972.
Ron Domilici Cobo Arena photo by Charlie Auringer.·Magic bag
One of the most truly amazing live performances took place at Leon’s Paradise Studios in 1979. All the musicians are incredible, but it features Leon’s long-time friend and colleague, JJ Cale. The sole female guitarist is Christine Lakeland Cale, JJ’s wife.
Grammy winner, legendary singer, songwriter, and musician J.J. Cale (born John Weldon Cale,1938–2013) was one of the originators of the distinctive Tulsa Sound. He is most famous for writing songs popularized by others, including Eric Clapton’s hits “Cocaine” and “After Midnight” and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Call Me the Breeze”. Known for his laid-back, blues-rock style, Cale also pioneered the use of drum machines and produced his own records, engineering his own distinctive sound. He was also one of Leon Russell’s engineers in the 1960s.
Check out Leon on the drums!
PS There’s an album/dvd of that session but I haven’t found it available for purchase. JJ. Cale featuring Leon Russell – In Session at the Paradise Studios, L.A. 1979 [DVD] If anybody has one, please let me know! I’d love to own it.
“Yeah, I know with the help of the good God, and an artificially induced religious experience, I think it’s gonna be all right.”
Photo credit, found on Pinterest
The Master of Space and Time’s churchy, rolling piano and drawling vocals, his zealous evangelical outpouring of energy from the stage made his concerts, as Russell put it, “an artificially induced religious experience.”
Leon was offered an off-camera role in the film, “When You Comin’ Back, Red Ryder”, as Reverend Duane Hindley, a radio preacher broadcasting from Del Rio, Texas.
He’s heard in the scene with Peter Firth as Stephen “Red” Ryder and Audra Lindley (remember Three’s Company?) as Ceil Ryder, Red’s mother.
Leon later revealed he read that religious rant, (he wrote it), in the style of Asa A. (A.A.) Allen, a 1960s American Pentacostal evangelist known for his “Voice of Healing.”
Listen closely to hear Leon say, “Feel the power,” “count your blessings,” and “encounters with the Devil.”
I thought this was a pretty cool discovery about Leon Russell. He could have had another career as a fire and brimstone preacher.
I’d definitely attend the Church of Leon. I believe!
It’s not often that a hummingbird will be able to stop moving long enough to take a picture that’s not blurry, but yesterday I got lucky. This little one darted from one monkey flower to another and my phone did a pretty good job of capturing her colorful exuberance. The nectar must have been sweet and delicious.
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
“She’s little and I love her too much for words to say.” –Leon Russell
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
The lyrics to Hummingbird, another Leon Russell masterpiece, were swirling around in my head while I was snapping these pics. (This is Set 2 / Live At The Fillmore East/3/27/70 · Leon Russell Mad Dogs & Englishmen)
Not exactly a river, but a little rivulet next to the lagoon that seems to have no beginning, goes nowhere, and abruptly ends without a trickle. We haven’t had rain for weeks, months even, so there’s no real explanation for the existence of this body of water.
I can relate to the meandering path of aimless inertia; of stagnant apathy. I guess that’s the feeling for today, likely generated by last night’s powerful full moon energy.
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
And of course because I’m obsessed, I searched for a Leon Russell musical connection. “Watching the River Flow” is a song by Bob Dylan; masterfully produced by Leon Russell. it was written and recorded in March 1971.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 