Posts Tagged ‘Hank Snow’

Well, it’s another Father’s Day. The picture here on the right is my dad, on the right, and his late friend, Jesse Gardner, leaning on a sharp blue Impala when they both worked at my uncle’s used car lot in the early 60’s. The three– my uncle, Jesse and dad– went on to have long careers at the sheriff’s department. Jesse, by the way, was the father of my friend and painter Tom Gardner and the grandfather and namesake of Jesse Gardner who now owns and operates the West End Gallery. Small world, eh?

Father’s Day feels somewhat bittersweet this year, given the the quarantine still in effect at the nursing facility where my dad resides and the fact that will most likely be his last Father’s Day. Between the progression of the dementia which has wreaked havoc on his awareness  and the skin cancer which has metastasized while ravaging the rest of his body, he is now nearing the end of his journey. Upon consultation with the doctors and staff, we have decided to forego further intrusions and procedures on him. They will simply try to keep him comfortable in his final time here and we will probably be able to see him one more time as he nears the end.

It was not a decision I wanted to make and it has weighed on my mind in recent days. Nobody wants to have to decide on the fate of your parents. You always hope for a painless, graceful exit for those you love. Unfortunately, the wheel of fortune doesn’t always fall in your favor so you deal with what is at hand and hope that with it some small bit of grace comes your way.

So, on what will likely be his final Father’s Day, I’ll be thinking of my dad. I will try to think about the better aspects of what I know and remember of him, trying to not focus on his flaws and imperfections, which were many. As it is with most of us.

Please don’t send any sympathies. They aren’t necessary. We all are fated to have to endure certain parts of life and that’s just how it is. All part of the bargain.

For this Sunday morning music I am choosing an old Hank Snow song, I Don’t Hurt Anymore. I don’t know if I ever did but I can hear my dad singing long to this in the car when I was a kid, tightening his voice to make it sound like the Singing Ranger. And now, hopefully the title applies.

Have a good day.

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GC Myers- Experimental Piece 1995It’s the New Year and I am finally back at work.  I’ve started working on some pieces that have been brewing in my mind for a while, some that are out of my comfort zone.  I don’t know how they will turn out and there’s a good chance that most of this work will never see the light of day.  I have found that quite often work that is too idea based or thought out never gets into any kind of natural flow or rhythm, at least for me.  I have plenty of examples from over the years that I won’t show here.

Occasionally a piece will come along that just doesn’t seem to work at the time but has something that emerges later.  For instance, the piece at the top was an early experiment from back in 1995.  It just didn’t click for me then.  It just seemed too worked and not free enough, if that makes any sense to anyone out there.  But the spiral of the sky found its way back into my work years later in a different form when I developed a way to make it seem more naturally integrated into the painting.  I appreciate this piece much more now than I did 20 years ago.

Hopefully, some of this new work will be good enough to show here.  We shall see…

For the first Sunday morning music of the new year, I thought I’d break out one my old favorites, Hank Snow, the Singing Ranger.  I have always loved his music and there’s something I find really appealing about him that I can’t really explain.  With his small stature, close cropped hair and the looks of a hardware store clerk from years ago, he certainly doesn’t have the cool appearance of a star.  Maybe it’s that anti-cool factor that I like.  He just did what he did in his own way.

Anyway, here’s his Rhumba Boogie to kickstart 2016.  Have a great day and a better new year.

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Robert Service Cabin Dawson CitySo today is September 11 and I could mention the event that will forever be linked to that date but I’m going to write instead about poet  Robert Service, who died on this date back in 1958.  Service was called the Bard of the Yukon as he came from the Great White North and much of his work focused on tales of the life of that area, the miners of the Gold Rush and the trappers for instance in a way that reminds one of Rudyard Kipling.  In his life Service achieved a huge degree of success and wealth from his poetry, something that would be remarkable in this day and age when the idea of a best -selling poet and popular culture icon seems ludicrous.  I am always intrigued by artists in any field who are tremendously popular in one era but whose name is, for the most part, lost in the eras that follow.

Much of his verse was more  about story than stringing  words together for rhythm and sound, telling  tales that dealt with the lives and deaths of the hard men of the north.  There was The Shooting of Dan McGrew , The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill and many more with equally colorful titles but perhaps his most famous was The Creamtion of Sam McGee.

I had never really heard of Service or his poem about the end of Sam McGee until this past Christmas Eve when my nephew Jeremy’s good friend and partner, Eliza, gave our family a wonderful recitation of the poem.  She had memorized it for a class recital as a young girl and has carried it with her since.  Now, that’s good baggage.

Anyway, thanks for the gift of Service, Eliza.  On this the day Robert Service died, enjoy an interesting reading by one of my favorites and another Canadian, Hank Snow.

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