Showing posts with label Jethro Tull. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jethro Tull. Show all posts

25 July 2018

Second Thoughts ~ Christmas in July


Greetings Dear Reader,

It is winter in the Southern Hemisphere.  I have a small Christmas Tree up in my living room and a gift or two for my family.  If you read my scribblings often you know that I love Christmas and celebrate it all year long. 

It is Christ that I celebrate even though I make room for the bearded red-suit guy and some jolly thoughts.  I love reminding my heart that even in the heat of summer the crisp spirit of winter can invade for a day.  I think that we always have time to remember Christmas and all it promises for a moment.

I will not belabor the point but I will wish you a happy Christmas in July, lift a glass to your health, and keep my promise to keep Christmas in my heart all the year.  Happy Christmas Dear Reader.  In a world that seems daily more bereft of joy, there is always time for another Christmas Song

Another Christmas Song – Jethro Tull

Hope everybody’s ringing on their own bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone’s connected to that long-distance phone.
Old man, he’s a mountain.
Old man, he’s an island.
Old man, he’s awaking – says,
“ I’m going to call, call all my children home.”
Hope everybody’s dancing to their own drum this fine morning –
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town.
Old man, he’s calling for his supper.
He’s calling for his whisky.
Calling for his sons and daughters, yeah –
calling, calling all his children round.
Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere –
even if you’ve never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you
that might be the old man calling me.
How many wars you fighting out there, this winter’s morning?
Maybe it’s always time for another Christmas song.
Old man he’s asleep now.
Got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and daughters and proving,
proving that the blood is strong.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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18 May 2018

Gratitude ~ Jethro Tull


Greetings Dear Reader,

I am grateful for music in general.  It helps me feel things that I avoid feeling.  It is solace in times of woe.  It can punctuate my celebrations with exclamation beyond my skills.

Since I was nine a man and a band have been my favorite.  It helps that the man is the leader of the band.  I speak of the band Jethro Tull and the man Ian Anderson.  His music danced into my life just as my Grandfather heeded the call of the piper to that undiscovered country.  The music I first encountered was from the album Aqualung.  It is a fine place to start if you are seeking to acquaint yourself with this very fine music.

One of the things for which I am grateful is the depth of this music.  Fifty years later I still find new thoughts and new questions as I listen to the various albums.  When I was nine I was already reacting to the pains in my life by asking hard questions.  With my Grandfather gone no one seemed inclined to listen or give me real answers.  Songs like Hymn 43 and Wind Up posed and answered some of them.

The later albums tilled the soil of my mind for the vital encounter that would come five years down the road.  The music of Tull also required me to keep thinking instead of choosing and closing my mind.  As the years slipped through the glass the band and the man continue to challenge me to think.  The music remains complex and the lyrics require one to pay attention.  One does not passively listen to Tull.

The band is still together.  They will be in my state this summer.  I do not think a day passes where a Tull song does not dance through my thoughts.  I am most grateful for the lessons they teach me about God.  He is not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.  What music reaches you Dear Reader?

Wind Up  – Ian Anderson

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game,
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success,
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So I left there in the morning
With their God tucked underneath my arm
Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.

So I asked this God a question
And by way of firm reply,
He said -- I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers --

I don't believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.
Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines

How do you dare tell me that I'm my father's son,
When that was just an accident of birth.
I'd rather look around me -- compose a better song
'Cause that's the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me,
As you lick the boots of death born out of fear.

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game,
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success,
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So I left there in the morning
With their God under my arm
Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.

Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines --

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game,
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success,
Or if they said that I was just a fool.

So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers –
Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines --

I don't believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong --
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

26 December 2016

The Road to Bethlehem – Boxing Day

Merry Christmas Dear Reader,

Boxing day is a holiday celebrated in Britten and the Commonwealth.   “This custom is linked to an older British tradition: since they would have to wait on their masters on Christmas Day, the servants of the wealthy were allowed the next day to visit their families. The employers would give each servant a box to take home containing gifts, bonuses and sometimes leftover food.”

I think we do not realize the sacrifice and effort made by those in the service industries.  Those who work in care and protection services are never closed.  Someone is always staffing the ambulance, the emergency room, and the police car.   They work long shifts with little regular family time.

Restaurants that are open Christmas day provide a place for those who have no place to go for a family meal.  The servers sacrifice family time to provide that for them.   My favorite diner was open yesterday and nine people were working instead of being with their families. 

Today I hope they are all celebrating or resting as needed.   People will begin putting away Christmas.  They will set aside the songs and the merry making.  Some return to work today to talk about gifts and events.

The shops will mark things on sale.   The talk will turn to New Years and resolutions.  Thoughts of Christmas will be set aside until late next fall.  I do not do this.  Christmas is meant to be in our hearts every day of the year.  I have constant reminders of Christmas in my home, workspace, and car.   There is always time for another Christmas time.  My annual vow is a simple one penned by Charles Dickens.   “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

Another Christmas Song – Jethro Tull

Hope everybody's ringing on their own bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone's connected to that long-distance phone.
Old man, he's a mountain.
Old man, he's an island.
Old man, he's a-waking says
"I'm going to call, call all my children home."

Hope everybody's dancing to their own drum this fine morning ---
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town.
Old man, he's calling for his supper.
He's calling for his whisky.
Calling for his sons and daughters, yeah ---
Calling, calling all his children round.

Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere ---
even if you've never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you
that might be the old man calling me.

How many wars you're fighting out there, this Winter's morning?
Maybe it's always time for another Christmas song.
Old man he's asleep now.
He's got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and daughters, and proving ---
proving that the blood is strong.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

17 December 2016

The Road to Bethlehem – Christmas Cards

Merry Christmas Dear Reader,

I have dear friends who send me Christmas cards every year.   I have never been someone who sends cards.  If one gets a card from me for any reason one should realize that it is uncommon.  My Daughter, Christmas on the other hand loves to make cards and send them to people.  She creates beautiful three dimensional treasures. 

The song I am pondering today is one that reminds us that we are celebrating a birth.  It also reminds us that we celebrate while there are still serious things to consider.  There is a time and season to both celebration and contemplation.

I must celebrate.  The revels are right and meant to show joy and hope.  There will be gifts given, meals shared, and love shown.  I will find great joy in the wonder of my Grandsons, the surprise in my children, and the time to rest and write.

We must also always have a shadow in our Christmas.   There must be a corner to our smiles.  We cannot celebrate without the shadow from our lights reminding us of those in need.  We must not forget that the manger always has the shadow of the cross.  We must have both content and style.  We must never be perfunctory.


Got a birthday card at Christmas: it made me think of Jesus Christ.
It said, “I love you” in small letters. I simply had to read it twice.
Wood smoke curled from blackened chimneys. The smell of frost was in the air.
Pole star hovered in the blackness. I looked again: it wasn’t there.

People have showered me with presents. While their minds were fixed on other things.
Sleigh bells, bearded red suit uncles. Pointy trees and angel wings.
I am the shadow in your Christmas. I am the corner of your smile.
Perfunctory in celebration. You offer content but no style.

That little baby Jesus: he got a birthday card or three.
Gold trinkets and cheap frankincense. Some penny baubles for his tree.
Have some time off for good behaviour. Forty days, give or take a few.
Hey there, sweet baby Jesus: Let’s share a birthday card with you.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

02 December 2016

The Road to Bethlehem – A Christmas Song

Merry Christmas Dear Reader,

Each year on Thanksgiving, after the turkey and pie, I watch A Christmas Carol.   It is the beginning of my time of pondering the needs that are so keenly felt as the world prepares to celebrate the Nativity.

“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.

Business!' cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The deals of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”  - Charles Dickens – A Christmas Carol

I realize that the title is “A Christmas Song”, not “A Christmas Carol”.   I will get to that.   I think that I cannot properly ponder the love and joy of Christmas if also embrace the want and need.  It is an insult to the redemption story to turn a blind eye to the needs of others.

It is not wrong to celebrate.  I feel, however, that we often lack balance.   We focus on the plenty and the celebration and forget those in need and in want.  The entire purpose of Christmas is giving.  God gave his Son.  We need to be giving love and compassion to those in need.  The best way to do that is to meet the needs we can.

There are so many avenues through which we can give to the needs of others.  There are many opportunities and the need is constant.  I must not pretend that I am honoring the birth of Christ if I turn a blind eye to those with genuine need.  I must extend my generosity beyond the comfort of family and home. 

Christmas Song – Jethro Tull

Once in Royal David's City stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her baby.
You'd do well to remember the things He later said.
When you're stuffing yourselves at the Christmas parties,
You'll laugh when I tell you to take a running jump.
You're missing the point I'm sure does not need making;
That Christmas spirit is not what you drink.

So how can you laugh when your own mother's hungry
And how can you smile when the reasons for smiling are wrong?
And if I messed up your thoughtless pleasures,
Remember, if you wish, this is just a Christmas song.

Hey, Santa... pass us that bottle, will you?

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

15 July 2016

Going Swimming

Greetings Dear Reader,

One of our common practices this summer has been for my Son Maxim and my Grandsons to come over for a swim an dinner on Thursdays.  My younger Grandson brings to mind both my Sons when they were learning to swim.

He is so very close to being able to really swim.  He wants to and works at it.  It occurred to me last evening that this is one of those transitions we make that takes many moments but occurs in a moment.  There is the moment when one struggles to swim and the moment when one can swim.

That moment will occur.  So many moments of transition lie before him.  He is smart and compassionate.  He has his own mind and expresses it well.  One of the ways we mark our lives is in moments of transition.  We learn to walk, to read, to ride a bike.  

As I grow older I wonder what moments of transition lie ahead that I should look for with joy.  I want to assure that I have moments of transition in my faith and following.  I want to become a closer follower of Christ.  I want to learn how to be kind in every moment.  I want to respond to others in with love.  I wish to be good to others.

After all, there will be transitional moments out of my control as I grow older.  If I do not learn to take all the moments in grace and peace then I will not deal with those moments well.

Slipstream – Jethro Tull

Well, the lush separation enfolds you
And the products of wealth
Push you along on the bow wave
Of the spiritless, undying selves

And you press on god's waiter your last dime
As he hands you the bill
And you spin in the slipstream, timeless, unreasoning
Paddle right out of the mess and you paddle right out of the mess

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

21 September 2015

Already and the not yet – Working for the Weekend

Greetings Dear Reader,

I am always amazed at the number of social posts complaining about Monday.   My Daughter put up at least two yesterday.  We dread Monday and live for the weekends.  We sacrifice the potential joy of the already trying to get to the not yet.

If Monday were not a day of work we would hate Tuesday.  If we worked four days a week instead of three (I have done this.), we would still not like it.  Our fallen nature is opposed to work. 

I think that part of this comes from working in jobs we hate but feel we have no option.   I know people who love the work they and Monday is just another day to live out their dreams.  It is a day that the Lord has made and we should rejoice and be glad in it.

If I live for the weekend then I am not living in the already.  If I embrace each day as a day to encourage another soul, love the world and the Father, and follow Christ as closely as possible.  I must live a life that reflects Christ in every day.  I must pursue him and not a future time where I think I will be happier.

If I live in each moment; in the already for Christ then I can forge a continually improving not yet.  That is what matters. Focus on living for Christ in the moment yields a not yet that is filled with a multitude of moments that are Christ centered.  That is a Monday or any day worth living.  

A Week of Moments – Ian Anderson

A week of moments a clutch of days
Ten thousand minutes of a Passion Play.
Medley of quavers informs the tune.
Its all too much: over all too soon.

Sweet condensation on chilling wine
Travelers palm, flamboyant tree
Fast photos ripped and lost consign
A week of moments to faint memory.

A week of moments plucked from the page
Found far horizons, a sunset stage.
Suitcases bulge, in silence packed
A chapter closed: no looking back.

The lightest touch upon my arm
No fierce restraint, no call to stay.
Hushed room maids glide like pawns to king
With pool attendants in chess piece array.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


14 June 2015

The Best of Times; the Worst of Times – Losses

Greetings Dear Reader,

As I ponder the home that is turning back into a house I ponder some of the losses that have transpired in these rooms.  I moved into this house to make a place for Christmas as we adopted her.  We needed someplace large enough for three adults. 

Within a year Avalon had decided that being married to me was the worst of times.  She moved out and moved on to the best of times she wished to have.  Avalon leaving me is an eternally echoing worst of times. 

There was a winter where Christmas was bed bound for weeks.  She felt so guilty for being ill as she had not healed enough emotionally to know that it was out of her control.  I felt so helpless to help with her pain and discomfort.  It was not until she was healed that I shared my fear during her illness. 

I have prayed alone in the darkness for Avalon, my children, my grandchildren, and others.  I have wept in wee hours of the morning when the loneliness overwhelms me.  I have seen the death of dreams in this place.  That may be the deepest pain of all.

There have been other very dark times in this house.  In all of them I have found two things to be true.  The first is that no matter how dark it is there is deeper darkness out there. The second is that in the darkness there is always the Light. 

This is not a platitude.  Christ has seen me through the worst of times.  He is the constant in the chaos; the fulcrum in the void.  No matter how dark it is if I follow the Light I will make my way out of the darkness.

Even the worst of times work to achieve the final good of retuning all things to Christ.  If the darkness serves that then all is well with my soul.

One Whit Duck  – Jethro Tull

There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone --- some roses on a tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
As I pull on my old wings --- one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
One white duck on your wall, one duck on your wall

I'll catch a ride on your violin --- strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody --- sing your chorus soft and low.
There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
One white duck on your wall, one duck on your wall

So fly away Peter and fly away Paul --- from the
Finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.

Something must be wrong with me and my brain ---
If I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that Way ---
And my zero to your power of ten equals nothing at all.

There's no double-lock defense; there's no chain on my door.
I'm available for consultation,
But remember your way in is also my way out,
And Love’s four-letter word is no compensation.

Well, I'm the Black Ace dog-handler: I'm a waiter on skates ---
So don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion.
Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays ---
To be cleared before I can dine on your sweet Sunday lunch confusion.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

21 December 2014

Why I love Christmas – Nativity Sets

Happy Christmas Dear Reader,

I can still remember the first time I saw a nativity set and asked about it.  I was four.  It was the first time I was told the Christmas story and understood it.  It was a four- year- olds’ understanding but it still captivated me.  I would sit and look at the figures and imagine the story over and over.

The issues of life and sin pushed me away from that simple love of a great story.  When I returned to faith years later I rushed to recapture the reminder of this both innocent and complex history.  I keep one out in a few places in my life all year round now.  It helps me keep the birth of Christ and all the implications that follow at the center of my life.

As I read through the Christmas story in Luke each day in December I ponder the nativity on my desk.  It is one of the view that I have seen that gives Joseph the honor he deserves.  I often wish I knew more of his portion of the story.

I have a large collection of the famous Fontanini nativity figures.  They are beautiful and have their own place under one of our Christmas trees.  Other reminders are placed throughout the house.  I wish to always be aware of the place of this part of Christmas in all my dealings with the season. 

I love Christmas because of my love for Christ.   In that manger is the beginning of the fulfillment of all the promises made by God to mankind.  Christmas still has promises to keep.  I find my hope for all them tethered to the manger in Bethlehem. I find the love and joy that wells up within me in that lonely cattle shed.  It is the reason I celebrate. It is the root and flower of Christmas.

A Christmas Song – Jethro Tull

Once in Royal David's City stood a lowly cattle shed,
where a mother laid her baby.
You'd do well to remember the things He later said.
When you're stuffing yourselves at the Christmas parties,
you'll laugh when I tell you to take a running jump.
You're missing the point I'm sure does not need making;
that Christmas spirit is not what you drink.

So how can you laugh when your own mother's hungry
and how can you smile when the reasons for smiling are wrong?
And if I messed up your thoughtless pleasures,
remember, if you wish, this is just a Christmas song.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store." 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

06 December 2014

Why I love Christmas – Friends and Family

Happy Christmas Dear Reader,

Today is a big day.  In just a few hours friends and family will begin arriving for our annual Christmas open house.  For eleven years save one we have hosted this event so that we get to see our friends during the Christmas season. 

I always take time the morning of this event to think about friends lost and distant.  I have lost friends along the journey that I remember and miss.  Some have reached the clearing at the end of the path ahead of me.  They are probably warning Jesus that I am coming and suggesting he reconsider the whole idea of letting me in.

Some I have lost due to anger, enmity, or un-forgiveness.  These losses haunt me and pray for the friends involved.  Some of the losses are my fault and that hurts me the most.  Eventually, however, all strife will be gone and I will have peace with these lost friends.  Until then I must become a better man so that I remain worthy of their friendship.

I will spend the morning prepping food.  I will rest for a shore bit and dress.  Then I will spend the day greeting and chatting people I know and love.  Every year I meet a few new people who are invited by one of my children or are a plus one to someone invited.  I have met some very good friends this way.

The house is decorated.  Some things already simmer on the stove.  For the moment I am focused on how blessed I am to have the friends that I have.  I am sure that most of them do not know how much I love and value them.  This is one of the ways I get to tell them.  Christmas allows me to show them a few hours of love and this is precious to me.

The family that will be here is precious as well.  I love them more than I can express and Christmas is a chance to show them that I see what they need and will try to give it to them.  This party is where that giving begins. 

Later this evening I will sit in my comfy chair like pigs in clover and ponder the day.  I will be tired and drowsy.  I will think about the people I saw and the people I did not.  I will ponder the friends who are too far away to be here but whom I miss dearly.  I will whisper a prayer of thanks for them all. Then I will follow that with a prayer for the day to arrive quickly when we can all be together to celebrate Christ and our friendship in him.   That is the day I try to catch a glimpse of each year with this celebration.   I long for it with all that I am.

Last Man at the Party – Ian Anderson (Jethro Tull)

Sister Bridget by the stair; a glass of wine and she's almost there.
Cousin Jimmy at the door; another beer and he's on the floor.
Friends and neighbours come around,
waste no time we're heaven-bound.
But not before we raise a glass to good camaraderie.

Stinky Joe from down the street fell right over his own three feet.
He's doubled up in the outside loo, to taste again the devil's brew.
Friends and neighbours come around,
waste no time we're heaven-bound.
But not before we raise a glass to good camaraderie.

So make yourselves jolly under mistletoe, holly and ivy.
Get to it - and be in good cheer.
And when it's all over... pigs gone to clover -
Will the last man at the party wish me a happy New Year.

The house is jumping, suppers up. Curried goat in a paper cup.
Forks of plastic, knives of tin... who cares what state the goat is in.
Someone with the gift of song
has brought his pal to sing along.
Now they're turning up old Frank Sinatra on the stereo.

So make yourselves jolly under mistletoe, holly and ivy.
Get to it - and be in good cheer.
And when it's all over... pigs gone to clover -
Will the last man at the party wish me a happy New Year?

Sister Bridget by the stair; a glass of wine and she's almost there.
Cousin Jimmy at the door; another beer and he's on the floor.
Friends and neighbours come around,
waste no time we're heaven-bound.
But not before we raise a glass to good camaraderie.

So make yourselves jolly under mistletoe, holly and ivy.
Get to it - and be in good cheer.
And when it's all over... pigs gone to clover -
Will the last man at the party wish me a happy New Year?

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store." 

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)