Royals

Ever since 1914—and probably even before that—the Royals in this modernizing world has steadily diminished. It’s been—to use David Crosby’s phrase—a “long time coming.” In my reading of history and Bible, and going back to the earliest days of my reading, the word “kings” has been in multiple verses. The earliest of my memory was not called “king”, but “pharoh. in that same vein were the many kings mentioned in biblical books: Nebuchadnezzar, Cyrus, and later of course the kings of Israel. . . Saul, David, Solomon, and so on. By the time Jesus was born, King Herod was ruling the Hebraic kingdom, but under the shadow of HIS overlord, Emperor Caesar in Rome. When Jesus was crucified by the powers that be in Jerusalem, his death , itself, was terminated when he resurrected three days later. And if you believe that, I’ve got real estate in heaven I’ll tell you about. The Bible affirmation of his life, death and resurrection concludes with his second coming, which has not yet happened. He is still honored by myself, and millions of others, as the King of Kings. But I digress. I’m thinking today about royals, and generally their place in history. After the legacy of the King of Kings, the news of his conquest of death, conquest of sin and ultimate Universal authority. . . gave rise to to a system of life that persisted in this world—especially Europe, where the “Catholic”/later Christian, church presented a type of leadership that leaders strived to duplicate for many, many centuries. Hence. . . the monarchies. This strain of leadership strove to provide living arrangements and environs for all of their “subjects. Here’s where my long store stops short, like a horse suddenly being halted by the breaking of a bridle. In the 19th century, all of those monarchies started to unwind. It started with King George VI, from whom we Americans discharged ourselves in 1776. A few years late, the French launched their version of our American revolutionary vision and, yes, war, with blood and all that. Blood, royal blood flowed when the Jacobins dropped the guillotine on King. Louis VI and Marie Antoinette. That was—the way I see it— the beginning of a long, long unwinding of royal authority and royal function in modern societies. Napolean came along, acting like a king but having not birthright. That was a big hit on monarchy. By the time the 20th century rolled around, the royals of Europe were in a deep shift. The Czar of Russia was assassinated. (The current czar is still hanging out in his power trip.) In 1914, the most extreme dissolution of royal authority in history was inaugurated when Archduke Ferdinand—not even the Austrian emperor yet—was shot in Sarajevo. That was the beginning of a long, long downhill run for royals all over Europe.

Now I’ll cut to the chase with the thoughts that started this musing. About ten years ago, a very old newspaper crossed my path and I bought it. It was a special edition of the Times of London, Special Coronation Edition, May 1937. That ancient, yellowed, tattered tabloid opened up a world of wonder for this American guy who had visited, a time or two, London and Buckingham Palace (from a distance) and Canterbury Cathedral. As time rolled by for this Rowland, and my songs of Rowland had been sung, I had, a few years back, gotten into writing novels. I was able, by the time the third one, Smoke, wafted out the keyboard to publish it, by the grace of God and Amazon KDP. Now today, I was pondering some of this old history stuff because I happened to view a YouTube about the royal family. It was a fascinating vid to watch, but what i found most interesting about it was that Queen Elizabeth had, in her will, willed her father’s royal sword to Prince Harry. Her will turned out to be an dispensary expression of her vision—her understanding—that the role of royals in this 21st-century world ain’t what it used to be, because, as brother Bob had sung it, “the times they are a-changin’. And I think she comprehended that the place of her legacy—primarily her family—in this world, would from this time hence be. . . well . . . who knows. I mean, she gave Harry her father’s sword. What does that tell you?

I’ll conclude with some royal wisdom from a fab four group from Liverpool: John sang: “Come Together.” Ringo sang: “I get by with a little help from me friends.” As Paul sang: “Her Majesty’s a pretty nice girl, but she doesn’t have a lot to say.” And George sang, “While my guitar gently weeps. . .” I am sure many, many Brits were weeping when her Majesty passed away. Now her last will and testament is a vectored message to her legacy family: Stay together, work together. Every member has a role to perform. As for Harry, with his new sword, whom I like because he married an American. . . On Guard, Prince! And yes, Virginia, there may yet still be a place for royals in the world. Someone needs to demonstrate the importance of dignity in this life that we live every day in a very puzzling world. Smoke

Jobs

Jobs; and I'm not talking about Steve Jobs, although i thank him and his crew for this laptop, upon which I peck away, day after day, because I can afford to, even though I am on Social Security. I'll remind us that I paid into social security and other federal, as well as state programs, for purposes of defending this nation, assuring our Constitutional freedoms and privileges, preserving the rights of all citizens who have, by their citizenship and toil, earned and secured the rights to receive support from that governance that was assured by our Constitution. As for the money itself . . . that is, the wages, the salaries and so forth that were earned and paid out from the time of my age, at 14, 1965, through the 73rd year of my life, this year of our Lord 2025. The money started trickling in, in 1965, from Burger Chef. Then it was A&P, with tips, then a summer as an office boy at the Louisiana State Capitol, and semester or two, part-time, at a shoe store in downtown Baton Rouge. In the LSU years, I serviced vending machine stocks at the LSU Union. Summer after freshman year was spent selling dictionaries door to door in southern Ohio, for Southwestern Publishing Company of Nashville. Then I was working for a semester or two or three, operating a cash register at a drug store. At long last (for that phase !! of life) I graduated from LSU. They let me get away with a BS in General Studies, even though most of what I had studied was philosophy, English literature and political science. As a newly-formed baccalaureate, I moved to Florida, St. Pete, where I worked a life/disabilities insurance debit in a black neighborhood. After a while I switched to selling classifed advertising, on the phone, for the St. Pete Times. With some traffic violations, a revoked driver's license due to points, I was ticketed for driving on a revoked license, did three days in Pasco County Jail. That was only the second time I got punched in my life, because I wouldn't lend a guy a buck to get in a poker game. The guard let me out early.  Went to my grandfather's funeral in Louisiana and then drove to Asheville. Got a job - turned out to be several years - for Groves Printing Company, sales. Decided to shift into carpentry because my landlord was renovating some commercial buildings in downtown Asheville. Somewhere in there, managed to make a a 33rpm record album, "Something for Everyone," in Nashville. Suffered a failed marriage. Left Asheville for Texas, never made it to Austin but instead got saved in Waco, gave my life to Jesus, eventually drove out west. On a mountaintop in Wyoming, watching sun go down, decided to go back to North Carolina. I'm glad I did. A Norman and Nancy Blake concert at Asheville Junction turned out to be the meeting point where Pat and I started our 45 years together. Before leaving Asheville, I was able, by the grace of God, to muster up some dear music friends to do a second LP, "Revelation 5:9"

Moved to Boone NC, joined a New Testament Christian fellowship. As for work, and paying taxes etc, which this is supposed to be about . . . I spent two years tying rebar for the Linn Cove Viaduct, which had been the Blue Ridge Parkway missing link since New Deal years. In '83, with the great S-shaped bridge around Grandfather Mountain completed, I drifted into carpentry while our three young'uns were growing up. We also made a move to the Carolina coast tor two years, where I did construction work. Upon our return to the Blue Ridge region, I was still doing carpentry for a coupla years. Then I thought maybe I'd break into teaching for a few years, took nine education courses at Appalachian State University., obtained certification in four subjects. But that didn't pan out, I guess I was considered to be too old, with all the new Education grads coming out of Appalachian State U. So I did five years at as a maintenance man at an apartment complex near our home. While working there, I discovered a very old edition of the Times of London, Special Coronation Edition commemorating the coronation of King George VI of England (King Charles' grandfather). Long story short (haha!), perusing that ancient tabloid newspaper inspired the writing of my third novel, Smoke, which was all about the year 1937. After printing two full, typrewritten copies at home, I mailed them to Random House and Harper Collins. But guess what happened. Nothing! which is why I say Thank God for Jeff Bezos, and Amazon KDP for their publishing availability and excellence. And that's why, at age 73, I spend my time promoting my old LPs from back in the day, on Spotify and YouTube, and God only knows where else, along with my four novels, Glass half-Full, Glass Chimera, Smoke, and King of Soul, while pecking away our retirement resources with this blog, and the other 1300 or so blogs I've published. Now do you think I should have the benefit of getting regular checks from Social Security? even now, as Pat is still doing part-time as an ICU Nurse. Do you think we are worth being supported by you and by all the other citizens of this great nation. . . receiving Social Security checks every month? If you do think we are worth the expense, go tell Elon and his wrecking crew go find some real work, like maybe controlling carbon emissions or conserving our natural resources and our national parks and our American way of life, and maybe trying to keep some peace among our allies who are being attacked by Vlad the Mad! If you think we're worth the expense, we would appreciate your support. Thank you! God bless America, land that we Love!

After 73 years on this earth, I do not pretend to know or understand what unexpected events lurk on the corners of my memories. An old song from the '60's popped up in my awakening thoughts this morning: ". . . like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning, like an ever-spinning wheel. . . the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind" While those lyrics do come to mind, the more profound lyric I had found myself contemplating earlier, while awakening this morning, comes from an old labor union song, sung by Joan Baez, on one of her many vinyl LPs, back in the day, when she sang: "I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as you and me. Says I, 'but Joe, you're ten years dead' 'I never died', said he. ' I never died,' said he. . ." The Joe Hill tribute song goes on to explain that wherever working men strive for equality or safe working conditions or higher wages or whatever, the legacy of Joe Hill, the bold labor organizer, lives on. Now I'm a southern boy, born in '51. . . never did know nothin' 'bout no labor union, but I remember hearing Joan singing about that old dream of a labor organizer. But obviously, I do recall them for some reason or other. Those meditations spun into a wider cycle of memory as I now recall the words of Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg, carved into the wall at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington: "The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." With myself having stood at the Lincoln Memorial while reading the slain President's words from Gettysburg Address, I lifted those words (above) in a scene - at that same Memorial location - which was written in as part of the story in my novel, Glass half-Full. But that's neither here nor there now.  Just now - and I'm pondering how all this memory stuff operates - I'm pondering the significance of a bundle of those memories. . . where they came from, why they are so meaningful to me, and. . . in this present day and time. . . No matter what the musky does or what words are uttered by any mar-lago maven or his magamaniacs, I know that the history of this nation. . . our striving and fighting for freedom against privileged tyranny, slavery, capitalist excess, cruelty, thievery and against any kind of human abuse - our striving to overcome all those injustices- is necessary to defeat the presence of evil among us (yes, I am a Christian) because. . . as Dr. Martin Luther King had said, and as Moses long before him said. . .  WE SHALL OVERCOME and as for me and my house: we say, we shall overcome, because we know that Jesus conquered death by defeating death itself with his Resurrection. . . and. . .as Amos had written in what later became my bible, the Lord does act on behalf of po' folks and he sho'nuff does expect His people to do the same! And furthermore, as the other Amos had said to Andy back in the day. . . and "I told him that!" Now I'm a'telling you that. Lastly, being an old guy, I just got, by doctor's orders, a brain scan, to see if any of my 73-year-old brain cells were leaking out. I got through it at Moses Cone Medical Center, although Moses never mentioned brain scans in any of his biblical books.  But it all turned out ok and I survived it, and that's the news, as Garrison Keillor used to say, " from Lake Wobegon". . .

the Prairie Home Companion Radio Man from Lake Wobegon. . . because, you know, when you get to be my age, all woe is, indeed, gone. There's nothing you can do now about the state of the world or the state of the Union or the deep state or even the state of the world. About all you can do is jot a few notes about what you remember and hope for the best and maybe share your thoughts and your memories with some good folks because, as Bob Hope and Bing Crosby of my childhood used to sing: "Thanks for the the memories." Don't do what the gangsters in the movies used to say in the movies, don't fuhgedaboudit.  Which is to say, remember what, as brotha Louie Armstong sang, in between his trumpet virtuosities : "Thanks for the memories!"  Thank the Lord, the Creator, for the recollections, and the mind he gave you that reserved those precious memories, for you in your latter years. And if you believe that . . . I've got some real estate in heaven I'll tell you about (later.) King of Soul

It's very simple. Peace can be achieved when vladimir putin withdraws his soldiers and blitzkrieging destruction from Ukraine. He must be made to do so. The European nations are United in their resolve to oppose putin in his aggressive sudetanland-like invasion of Ukraine.

The European nations are United in their resolve to defeat putin's aggression. What is truly tragic is that the American president is unwilling to take the stand that our founders took when they opposed King George III's aggression. He is unwilling to take the American stand that our President Roosevelt took in joining the Europeans against nazi aggression in 1938 Sudetanland and the subsequent 1939 Poland invasion, which detonated WorldWarII.  The MAGA-backed occupant of the Oval Office (MAGA stands for Mark America Go Apeshit) is supporting a Russian dictator, because donald himself wants to be a american dictator - as if there were such a thing! He wants to play dishrag to putin's sending Ukraine down the drain of fascist aggression. Our present Oval office-occupant and his VP are unwilling to stand with our European Allies, although the leaders of those European nations stand United in their resolve to support Ukraine and to defeat Vlad-the-Mad, the Russian dictator, the hitler of the 21st-century.  Give us Liberty or give us death! was the declaration of our forefather, patriot Patrick Henry, back in the days of our Revolutionary birth pangs when the United States of America was being born. Give the Europeans Liberty and give putin an exit visa back to his kremlin hellhole.  Give Zelensky Victory and give putin Defeat! Glass half-Full

After Yellowstone

I have a vague memory of a speaker i heard, many moons ago, who took the liberty of departing what would have been his gospel message to take a side path of his opinions about a move that was being viewed around America at that time. The movie that the speaker mentioned was called Dances With Wolves. I don’t remember much about the story therein, but I do remember that the speaker fellow was criticizing Kevin Costner’s implied message in that movie. As for the Dances With Wolves message, or plot line, or conclusion I don’t remember much about it, but I think I do recall that Kevin had some empathy with the naive Americans, and apparently that was his motive in making the movie. Past is prologue, as you will see when I explain more about this topic. Just a few minutes ago, we watched the concluding episode of Yellowstone. I’m not going to be a spoiler here by telling you how the series ended.

I will say that in one of the last episodes, the main character, a Montana rancher, was killed, and the last episodes revolved around what happened after his death. The surprise conclusion of the series—maybe I am a spoiler here but here goes nothing. Bottom line: his heirs returned the maga-ranch back over to the native Americans whom they had befriended in previous seasons of the series. Their decision to favor the sacredness of the land, rather than its monetary and developmental value was, it seems to me, a noble one. Reflecting on this plot conclusion, and that Kevin Costner had been, before he got killed off, the main character, and probably the producer of the series, I found myself pondering the meaning or message of “Yellowstone” in the big picture of life on this great north American continent that we call America. . . but perhaps more profoundly, life on this planet, and where our lifestyle on this planet may be leading us. It’s not likely that this continent would be returned, in toto, to the naives who were here when the Europeans began their centuries-long immigration and domination of the continent. But maybe, applying a different twist to my feelings about this would be to consider the possibilities that this planet would somehow be returned to a native appreciation and respect for this land. . . this great land. . . this land that was made, as Woody Guthrie sang, “for you and me.” This land that was made for living in, not getting rich, although I have nothing against rich people. I will not hazard any more ruminations about these thoughts or feelings just now. But I will leave you with this: a song that i composed back in the ’70’s and recorded on my record album at that time. You can hear it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAQSqwrVdQw or here: Sitting Bull’s Eyes http://www.micahrowland.com/carey/Sitting Bulls Eyes.mp3" http://www.careyrowland.com