It was a sunny Tuesday morning.   Right around the time I'm writing this, as a matter of fact.   My mom called me and told me to turn on the TV.    A plane had hit the World Trade Center.    I turned on the TV just seconds before the second plane hit.    I remember thinking how horrible,  but it didn't quite sink in yet what was happening.   I started to go on with my day.   I had things to get done.

A little later,  I was at the hardware store,  and the lady there said that another plane had crashed in Pennsyvania,  and one at the Pentagon.    That's when I realized what was going on.   The rest of the day was spent in front of the TV.  As the towers started to come down,  our minds raced through anyone we might know in New York.   My oldest sister quite often worked in Manhattan,  and it took us a while to reach her.   Thankfully,  she was not in the city that day.

In the next day or two,  you were hard pressed to find a house that wasn't flying the American Flag.  Democrats and Republicans joined hands on the capital steps and sang "God Bless America"   There was a sense that it didn't matter what your political beliefs are, what color you are, or what part of the country you come from.   We were attacked.   It was time to stand up.

God bless those who died in the attack.  God bless those heroes who lost their lives trying to save others.  God bless those who have since served and lost their lives lives trying to fight those who would do us harm.   God bless America.

Saturday was a great day.  I was helping my (ok, I'm going to say it in public) girlfriend, Amy move.   It wasn't really what you'd call fun,  but it felt good to get some work done,  and the move is really going to be good for her.   Then the whole tone of the day changed.   I spoke with a friend of mine who came home from the hospital that day.  Out of respect for his privacy,  I won't mention his name,  but many of you reading this may know who it is.   I was hoping that the fact that he was home was good news.   Sadly,  that's not really the case.   In a best case scenario,  he'll be in for a tough battle.     It just makes me sad.   Friendship and prayers are about all I can offer.  

Warren Zevon said that you learn to cherish every sandwich.  That's a nice reminder,  but I'd prefer to take them all for granted,  and share them with my friend for a very long time.

Seems like I wrote the same front page last year.   Last Thursday my friend Deborah Herbert performed a gig at The Big Tree Inn.   It was fun.    We started off a little slow.   Deb showed up with a migraine that just made it difficult to perform.   After a couple of excedrin started kicking in,  we really got going.   Her spirit on stage is remarkable.   This year,  I got a couple of different musicians to back her up.   In addition to myself on guitar,  Dave Sharman, Gary Holt, and Andrew Laughton  really added a lot to the evening.   

The good news is,  the manager liked the show so much that about three songs into the night,  he came over and asked us back for next week.   So,  if you want another chance to catch Deborah Herbert,  you better come to the Big Tree Inn in Geneseo  on Thursday, July 26.   Otherwise,  you might have to fly to Copenhagen for another chance.

I invited my friend Amy to our Independence Day celebration next week.   She mentioned that as she was telling her kids about the invitation,  it dawned on her that she wanted to explain to them why the 4th of July is more than hot dogs and fireworks.     That got me to thinking........reflecting,  actually.

What an absolutely amazing country we live in.   231 years ago a group of brave men and women got together and declared that they had had enough.  It was not right for them to live under the thumb of a dictator.   That government should be a reflection of the peoples' will.   You have to remember what a radical idea this was at the time.  But it was one that they were willing to die for.  Many of them did.    Once they won their freedom,  they didn't simply install another king or dictator.   No, the revolution wasn't about someone else wanting power.   They started this great experiment called democracy.   They made, to borrow a phrase, a contract with America.   The the rights of all men were guaranteed.   The structure of government was defined.   The transition of power was spelled out.

I've spent time in other countries where the people don't have the same freedoms that we so often take for granted in America.   To this day,  there are places where you can't so much as express your displeasure with a governmental policy for fear of being arrested, or even killed.   Remember that the next time you hear some rich celebrity whining about how unfair it is that she sold a few less cd's because some people don't like her politics.

Is America perfect?   Far from it.   But it is still the most desirable place in the world to live.   That's because of those brave men and women 231 years ago who were willing to die to gain their freedom,  and all those since who have been willing to die to protect it.

Every so often,  I notice that the music I'm listening to has changed.  Sometimes the shift is so subtle that I barely notice it until I look back.   For example,  I still listen to a lot of blues,  but lately I notice that it's not as much the acoustic delta style,  and more of a jump blues with lots of horns.    Sometimes the change in taste is a big departure from the norm.    From out of nowhere,  everything I touch seems to have more of a country style to it lately.   I've been hearing Johnny Cash and George Jones in the new songs I learn.   And I can't seem to get Pure Prairie League out of my head.  

I wonder why.

I had a very busy and fulfilling weekend.  

Friday night,  I had a gig at the Brown Hound.  There was a nice crowd and people really responded to what I was playing.  

 Saturday morning,  there was a ceremony dedicating a new park in Livonia,  where I live.   It was named in honor of Forest Vosler.   He was a Livonia native who was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for his heroics during WWII.   At first,  it didn't seem like a big deal to me,  but as I took a moment to read about what he did,  and how rare it is for the CMH to be awarded,  I started to appreciate how special it really is.   There was a military band,  and our congressman was there to give a speech.   It was a nice ceremony.     Then,  we had a graduation party for my nephew,  Bryan.   I'm so proud of this kid.  He has really grown to be a fine young man.   He deserves,  and will get,  lots of success in life.  I'm sure of it.

Sunday I was back at the Brown Hound.   This time is was a smaller crowd.   I ended up only playing for part of the time because it was just quiet.   That gave me an opportunity to spend some time with a very nice lady and reherse some songs that we've been working on.    Then I stopped in to The Statesmen for the open mic.   I used to go to this open mic faithfully every week,  but not so much in the last year or so.   Boy,  I'm glad I went this time.   There were some people there I haven't seen in a couple of years,  and we played some great music.

My only regret for the weekend is that my diet suffered.   I've been trying to lighten the load a bit,  and I had lost almost 40 pounds.   After this weekend,  the total is closer to 35 pounds.    Back to the regimen first thing Monday.

If you live around Upstate NY and are inclined to see great live music,  this is the time to be here.    The Rochester International Jazz Festival is underway with some great performers.   On a smaller level,  there's a different festival just about every week in the area throughout the summer.   Most of them feature live, local music.   W.B. Blues will be part of the Geneseo Summer Festival in July.   As a solo performer,  I'll be playing for Angelica's summer concert series this summer. 

My friend Deborah Herbert will be back in the U.S.  in July,  and I'll probably set up a gig or two for her somewhere,  so check back often.   She's an absolutely captivating singer.  I usually find a little all-star band to back her up,  and we have ourselves a time.

There's lots to do in the summer around here.  Don't forget to make live, LOCAL music part of your plans.

W.B. Blues played a show at the NY Wine & Culinary Center the other night.  A couple different people who work there commented that they liked us because we weren't too loud.   Apparently,  some of the other musicians who have played there couldn't quite find the appropriate volume level for the room.

The other guys in the band,  as well as Pete Collin, whom I frequently play with, can testify that I'm constantly telling them to watch the volume.   It's something I've learned from my friend Bill Brown.   Bill was gigging long before I was born,  and he's still going strong.  Sometimes I'll tell Bill he could turn up the volume.  He'll reply that if the audience really wants to hear him,  they can.

I believe one of the reasons I've been so fortunate to play as many gigs as I have in the last year or two is that I'm no longer blowing my voice out every night.  There are times and places where it can be fun and appropriate to be loud and rowdy,  but in the long run,  you end up with a lot fewer gigs that way.