¡Buenas dias!
Yo soy Michael. Yo soy de Los Estados Unidos. Yo soy estadounnidense.
Tengo sesenta y nueve años. Soy un poco viejo.
Yo Tengo una hija. Ella se llama Madeleine. Tiene veinte y cinco años. Ella es intelligente y muy guapa
Soy de estatura medio-bajo. Soy medianamente fuerte y atletico, pero un poco gordita.
Yo Tengo los ojos azule y tengo los anteojos.
Tengo el pelo y la Barba gris, como el hombre más interesante del mundo. Él y yo somos guapo!
Okay, Él es guapo.
This seems the perfect song for autumn. The days are getting shorter, and a chill is in the air. The leaves have turned to the underlying color that emerges when they doff their green work attire.
The harvest is in - time to look back over the season; to count our blessings, and balance our losses. As nature retreats beneath the surface to prepare its reemergence in spring, so we take time to reflect, and consider what best to plant when the lengthening days begin our next season of renewal.
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Ian Tyson, the man who wrote Four Strong Winds, Sang it together with his wife, and ultimately former wife, Silvia. Their musical partnership endured longer than their marriage. Performing that together after their divorce seems to be an ultimate act of courage.
Ian was as good as his word. He settle in Alberta, living out his days on a horse ranch he was able to buy with the royalties he received from Neil Young's version of his song. Here Ian and Neil share memories of one another:
American culture lost a legend last week, with the passing of Kinky Friedman. He, along with his band, The Texas Jewboys, were an underrepresented minority in country music.
A sampling of his wisdom. Some of these quotes make more sense in the context of his run for Texas governor in 2006.
Kinky Friedman - They Ain't Makin' Jews
Wishing a happy, loving Fathers Day to all the fathers in my life; who strive to be worthy of that title - and who remember their own fathers with love, and seek, and in in their memories, a source of guidance
I was gratified, while channel surfing this morning, to see that NBC is referring to the clay-court tennis tournament underway in a Paris suburb as the Roland Garros. I was in Paris twenty-six years ago, during this annual event. When I asked around about the 'French Open', nobody knew what I was asking about. Nobody there calls it that, and nobody seemed to know that anybody else did. Like Wimbledon, it is named after the stadium where it is played – and the stadium that hosts this is named after an early French aviation hero, Roland Garros. American television has just been very slow to respect that.
I'm a little conflicted about my post last week regarding the budget negotiations. I stand by every assertion in the post, but am trying to avoid politics on Facebook. So, in order to avoid controversy or disagreement, I offer this simple observation.
With all due respect for fans of the Beatles, the Stones, Elvis, or anybody else's body of work, I just want to point out that the absolutely all-time best Rock album is Bruce Springsteen's 1975 treasure, Born to Run.
Each song is a masterpiece of lyrical poetry, matched with the only conceivable instrumental accompaniment intense and evocative enough to complement the words - all with the intent of drawing the listener into the reality of tough sixties-era east-coast urban life life; lived on the wrong side of the tracks, the bridge, the law.
Any song from the album would prove the point; the exclamation of Jungleland is the amazing stop-you-in-your-tracks saxophone solo from the late Clarence Clemons.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lW1RAYYs8RI
