American Lament

 

Sc/een.e from a Balcony 2-18-25 8am

Incredibly cold this morning .....  9 degrees in Pittsburgh, but I've had worse; problem is that at this point my body does not respond favorably to such extreme and sudden changes. I'll do what I've always done: Adapt.

 Sad News

End of an era! Just got the news of the passing yesterday of a dear friend first met in 1990 when working in music ministry at St Philip Parish in Crafton, the community where I had been a 3rd generation member, and was ecstatic to have  had the opportunity to return there for 10 years as music director. 

Here is Ann, wife of Andy (rip), mother, nurse, a passionate woman who was 60 years old in 1990 when we first met. She became the very first Cantor at this parish and we quickly adopted each other and became fast friends, a relationship that endured past my leaving the post in 2000. This photo was taken from her 90th birthday surprise party at Olive Garden in 2019. 

After Andy passed, we would often go here and there to concerts and shows at the Carnegie Library and this next photo was taken at the last time we got together at her house to share a meal and visit. This photo was taken in 2022 at age 93. 

Red Letter Day 

Whimsical Trumple Stiltskin and his minions has been mercilessly eviscerating all we'd come to hold sacred and dear to our common purpose and vision for ourselves as a nation. Since it was "President's Day" today, people around the world protest the actions taken to "drain the swap" as repugnicans call it. 

 It's seems we're returned to a time I remember 'oh so well' from way back in 1975 when such unrest was part of the sociopolitical landscape at the time (IYKYK Watergate), the rise of advocacy and activism for civil rights (women and non-binary identified people). 

At the time, I lived with one of  Pittsburgh's own premiere activists, Senator Jim Ferlo,  in a duplex in South Oakland, and often played open mics in the area performing my original songs on guitar. This specific song seems, written by a 19 year old me, seems to foreshadow the recurring pattern we now see unfolding in our modern day. Titled "America's Lament' it is an ode to these dia-pol-ical times.

America's Lament ©1975 Bart Black

Out of the will to survive, there grows a constant struggle

for the freedom we inherit through our birth.

Fresh, and uninfected we come wading through the wonder 

and the mystery encountered on this earth.

Where questions are answered with a question;

 it's like talking to the paper on the wall. 

When searching for 'it' down beneath the surface, 

you're finding that you're only grabbing straws.

He comes down with arguments and accusations plenty, 

he is fighting for the party of his choice. 

But radical defenders of this system undivided 

beat their drums so hard it cancels out his voice.

There is nothing but the present; truth is disregarded with the past. 

The rich are busy raking in the profits, while the poor are getting poorer very fast.

Seasons keep on changing and the rivers they keep on flowing 

and the needs of people still go unfulfilled. 

And there's no compensation for the time that has been wasted,

or the countless drops of blood that has been spilled.

Spilled and splattered on our values; stained and gualded on their face. 

And with the whole damned country buried under rubble, 

please tell me what will happen to the human race?

The past lives in the present, and the present always passes,

but you never know that it's here until it's gone. 

But I live to make a way today to keep the goodness rolling,

 in spite of all the damage that's being done.

America, I know that you are somewhere sealed behind these walls of liberty. 

Ten thousand picks and chisels cannot save you, for only truth and time shall set you free!

Harp Journal #132 

After finding out about Ann and notifying a mutual compadre I was visited by the notion to play this son on the harp : You Raise Me Up. It just came to me and I'm finding all my musical knowledge and piano bar playing skills are starting to take root in my harp skill set. Being able to translate musical ideas from he 'thought known' of the psyche's subconscious with greater ease is what I originally hoped to attain when I took up the harp two years ago. 

Blogging has evidently become my second passion for retirement age. It, along with the Harp, has given me a sense of purpose, and allows me uninterrupted time to process the past and document it so as I age and memory begins to fade, I will have this body of events to remind me who I have been along the way, lest I forget, which I'm certain will occur eventually.