Summer’s definitely here. Love going to the reservoir, always a rope swing hanging from the highest tree to swing from. Head to down to the river to cool off, leave this world for a while. These days you can have guitars/amps, mics, drums, damn everything you need to play outdoors without AC, you have DC now and it really works good, have my own setup, go out occasionally to pick. Summer nights are perfect for playin’ with others. Having surgery on my left fret hand August 1, it will be my 3rd surgery in a year. They’ve made 7 incisions in my hand, one 4 inches long from my wrist across my palm to the base of my finger. So much pain and I live on oxycontin & morphine normally just for a host of physical problems. But still the worst pain I’ve ever experienced was after quadruple heart surgery a year & 5 months ago. Having  my leg on fire was 2nd, the healing when they pull your dead/burnt skin off, the actual flames didn’t hurt at all, I put it out with my own hands, then jumped in the canal, it’s handy having canals everywhere down here. It’s extremely difficult to play any instrument much less this computer keyboard right now, I’m slowly losing use of my hand, here’s hoping the Dr. can help me this time. Then my right arm I actually almost cut the whole thing off at the elbow but they were able to sew me back together so I’ve got 70% of my use back. Actually had no feeling below my elbow for 3 months. And that was the 3rd accident to my right arm. I don’t have tattoos, I have scars and they all tell tales of my life, most don’t know it but I’ve even lost a testicle to the surgeon, cancer. I’ve had skull fractures/surgery’s, you can see the damage. God I know pain, only too well.

Down here Dixie way you can be out walking and see a fish passin’ you. No kidding there’s walkin’ fish down here and they are big, 12″ at least the ones I’ve seen. Don’t you love it. Notice that if you don’t pay attention you’d forget this country’s at war. Funny how time’s change, during ‘Nam you’d see the war all day/nite on the news with daily body counts. Now they hardly tell you anything, if this country quit these wars we’d be in the black financially. Occupy now is the time to standup, don’t let this moment in time slip by. This country really needs Obama back as President, if Romney gets in everyone will be crying for a long time. Bruce, you need to get out there and tell people to vote for him, you influence more people than Romney/Obama combined. You could put the election in his hands. And the rest of you rockers, get out there and help reelect Obama. Ask, tell, beg people to vote for him. It’s that important, you have no idea whats down the road for this country and we’ll need Obama to be there when the moment comes. Romney’s just a rich powder puff, he’s not the common people’s friend. Surgery tomorrow, here’s hoping. Went swimming this mornin’, the ocean, it was calm as a lake, so beautiful, so good.

So I say they should make a movie about this shit. No joke, really what I said, and have them use my name for the Wordman as in real life, Frank, only it was me, Wordman who left not Eddie, even said use this song, guess which one I wrote the words to. And gave the band a name, Beaver Brown. It’s a saying of mine, “Beaver’s are brown, unless you get a redhead”. Don’t think I need to explain that do I. So all you people who thought the movie was a thin story of the E Street Band are right, except for who left. Asked if that couple from Mrs. G’s, told story earlier post, if they had given him the words I’d written down, yes, he replied. So I gave him the rest of ” Born in the USA”. Also did the words to “No Retreat, No Surrender”, had a drummer from a band of mine on the Island in mind writing it,  you could always hear him practicing from a block away. And something my brother and I always said to each other.

Then I noticed Bruce & Hammond laughing, asked what, Hammond was laughing at my long hair, the way I looked from the back, so I said he looked funny with his Marine crewcut, turns out he really had been in the Marines. Also they noticed I had a knife tucked in my pants in back, well actually not a knife, it was more a hunting knife, a foot long. Always carried a knife back then, some rough people ’round the track, you didn’t have to use it, just flashing it was more than enough and I was a veteran of the streets of N.Y., the mountains of Montana and various other places. Nowadays I just carry a walking cane, very handy/dangerous walking aid. But I asked Bruce to try and stick me with it, he didn’t want to but he finally came at me, I just hit his wrist a certain area which caused him to drop it. Well then I explained that he should study karate,  not only for protection but also it would help his onstage presence/moves and stay fit. I told him he needed to never have a opening band, always play 3/4 hours, give the people their money’s worth but also more people would want to see these shows once word got out. Told him to tell stories of his life, the songs, people respond to this keeping them entertained and making it more personal to them/closer to him.

Wrote the words to “Where the Streets Have No Name”, given to U2. In my travels out west, if your ever given the chance, Go. There are unbelievable vista’s, mountaintops, plains assessable only by horseback where the hands of time have etched into the earth the trails, etc. of all who passed before, hence “Where the Streets Have No Name”. But there’s a place back on the island, Staten Island, still there, that back in the day we’d hang out, party, drink, get high, play guitar’s, get laid, whatever. It’s a bridge to nowhere over the expressway. They built it but never used it, insane but true, lot of $’s went into building it too but it just sits there going nowhere, unused. Wrote the song there one night on a return visit back to the island in ’74.

I say let’s write a song now. So we did. I started it off, saying let’s do it call & response. I say a line than Bruce say’s a line, everything made up on the spot. So off we go back and forth, till we get to the chorus, now we don’t talk, we are just saying/thinking of our lines, I think, okay, “Just to say goodbye, Bobby Jean”, and I say it. Now I’m hearing music in my mind while we’re doing this, I ask, you hear the music right?, Bruce of course says, no, he can’t hear what’s in my mind, so when I say my words I do it by singing the words softly, so as to give him an idea how the song is going, then in between humming the song as I hear it in my head and that was it, the whole song was around the chorus of, “Just to say goodbye, Bobby Jean”. Now when we get to the end, I say, have the sax do a solo and I whistle that ending solo that Clarence does, even down to that last note, that long last note, I whistle the whole thing, remember though, there’s a tape recorder going,  getting all of this down. Now on one line I’d say 2/3 words, then Bruce says 2/3 words so we both wrote half of each line. But to me most importantly and most beautiful was Clarence doing that last solo bit just as I had whistled it that night. That was why it was so important for Bruce to bring a tape recorder along. And that’s the story of “Bobby Jean”, written that evening by Bruce and I. That was the only one we did together.