SOMETHING TO SAY

A Heartwarming Story Of a Man and His Best Friend: His Cell Phone

Gather Round and hear the true heartwarming story of a man and his cell phone. A story that is so i ncredible, that you may have a hard time believing this is true story. But it is.

December 2nd 2002 in the Metro Cleveland Ohio area was a blustery cold day. A weird day. By Northeastern standards, not that cold or miserable, but the timing of the snow storm was odd - starting in the middle of the day leaving it nearly impossible for the salt trucks to get out on the roads. There were so many cars out, slipping and sliding, blocking the roads for the salt trucks.

As I left my guitar teaching job at The Fine Arts, I realized I had misplaced my cell phone. I looked everywhere twice, but to no avail. I got in my van, checked it out many times without finding it, so I proceeded home. Checking at home, to my dismay I still could not locate the cell phone. I called my cell phone provider reported it lost and they told me my next phone would cost me $120.00 to $180.00. That aggravated me and I thought what rip offs! But I also knew I was stuck because I had signed a contract. Finding the cell phone would save me from having to buy a new one and all would be well in the universe, once again.

The next day at work I looked everywhere, but couldn't find it. That evening I played out at a coffeehouse and was standing in the parking lot after the gig, talking to a guy who likes to talk politics. I was kicking the ice and snow off my van when all of a sudden there was the cell phone frozen on the side step of my van(the thing you step on to get into the van). How did this happen? It must be broke. I took the phone into the van by the heater and in about 1 minute it was working again. I got reactivated and everything was back to normal. How did this miracle happen?

Retracing my steps in my mind, I thought, "Let's see - it was a cold blustery day and as I put my books and guitar in the van, the cell phone obviously fell into a pile of my snow on the side board. Then because of the poor weather and the slippery roads, I took the slowest way home to avoid the freeway. Travelling 15 miles an hour all the way home, the cell phone rested secure in the pile of snow on the side board, since I was going so slow. When I pulled the van into my drive, I left the car out in the cold causing the cell phone to freeze to side board. With more snow packing it in and freezing, it even became more solid. I went to work that day and drove on the freeway at 55 miles per hour, with my cell phone stuck to the side.

The moral of the story. I don't know, but maybe, just maybe when you think all hope is gone and you think maybe all is lost, there is always a chance your cell phone could be stuck frozen to the side of your car. No, that's not the moral. Maybe these companies should just give you another cell phone; no, that's not it either. Just maybe - can't we all just get along? That still doesn't work. Maybe this cell phone was preserved for a reason, and there is a destiny with me and this particular phone. I doubt that. I really don't know what the moral is, but it is pretty amazing, at least to me. As the cell phone representative said to me (I won't mention the name brand because this is not an advertisement), that brand of cell phone is sure tough.

African American Nursing Home

Nursing Homes are among my venues, and one that I perform at In Cleveland Ohio is about 70% African American. The people at the home that I entertain do not want to always want to hear Let Me Call You Sweetheart, but actually would rather hear a John Lee Hooker song like Boom Boom. It's given me a real edge in my professional career to play these early R&B songs to an audience that knows them so well. They push me on to play funkier and with more rhythm. They have pushed my music to a higher level and I get very energized and animated when I play for them. In fact, I received a nice compliment from one of the workers who indicated that I give the patients life and energy when I come and play. But the feeling is mutual.

Additionally, I do spirituals and gospel; to say it is quite lively is an understatement. It is more like a Pentecostal Service, attended by the elderly. I often play Chubby Checkers Twist and many people get up in their walkers and attempt to dance. Hand Jive by Bo Diddley is also popular. It helps that the nurses also like these songs and get energized. Because they get excited, patients get going, also.

I have learned quite a few things from playing these nursing homes. Throw some songs in for the workers, who need a break and relaxation. They see me coming as a fun time and a party, so they pass that message on to their patients. Also, don't play stereotypical music. Just because some one was born in the 1920's doesn't mean that they can't appreciate music from other eras. It's very possible that some of the people in the nursing home were teenage children in the 1950's, and that might have been the best time of their lives. While playing Boom Boom, that famous Rhythm and Blues song, one of the elderly gentleman got up and started to cut a rug (danced), probably acting out as he did years ago when he was young gun. As he danced with a certain swagger and gusto, which the other patients enthusiastically endorsed, his trousers began to slip off, causing the nurses to run all the way from the other side of the room to keep his trousers on. This sequence happened quite a few times, with the nurses always reaching him just in time before it got really embarrassing. This was all to the raucous delight of the residents in the nursing home. Playing for a mostly African American Nursing Home has been a most rewarding experience for me. I feel comfortable in the Black Culture and love Gospel Music. Now when I play at a regular suburban nursing home, the people often seem so sedate; or now that I think about it, maybe that's sedated.

Beautiful Spring

The year is 2003. The Willoughby Fine Arts asked me to write a song for a play commemorating Ohio's 200th anniversary, for a children’s summer theater group They wondered if I could write a few songs about Ohio. So I came up with a simple one in a Chuck Berry style called O-H-I-O, plus I wrote a song about the original settlement in Ohio called Beautiful Spring, which is based on a true account.

David Zeisberger, a Moravian Missionary from Pennsylvania, came to Tuscararwas River Valley in Ohio in 1771. He was invited by Delaware Chief Netawetwes to build a mission on land near a spring of sparkling water called Schoenbrum, which is German for "beautiful spring." The mission became the first town in Ohio. Netawatwes took the Christian name of Abraham and led his people in a pledge of non-violence towards Indians and the white man. In the midst of frontier fighting, they were viewed with mistrust by the Indians, the British and the Americans.

They fled Shoenbrun, relocating to a nearby town called Gnattendhutten. American Col. David Williamson promised them protection if they would give up their weapons as proof of their pledge of non-violence. After they had given up their weapons, he then told them they would die in the morning but gave them permission to pray for a night before their death and massacre.

These are the facts about that settlement and it is remembered every summer with a play in New Philadelphia about the Indians and Schoenbrun. The play is called Trumpet In the Land and is an excellent outdoor drama about these historical events. I felt it fit Ohio’s history and was also a good way to mention that the U.S. is capable of great injustices and it also was a round about way to protest the Iraq war, and to write a song that would be a Christian pacifist witness.

I made the song into a story-telling narrative, with each of the children reciting a line and the chorus, sung with the following words:

Beautiful Spring of Sparkling Waters, Praises they’d sing for their Lord and their King. Our first town is Schoenbrun, is the land of the Beautiful Spring.

The children sang the song at the Summer theater performance and it was excellent.

About a day after I had written this song, I had to play a job at the All Nations Festival in Eastlake at 500 Flags Park. It was a job on Memorial Day for the radio station I was on at the time WELW. In the parking lot taking my parking money was an American Indian and his wife and another American Indian Couple. As I took my guitar out of the car, I thought this might be a good opportunity to try my song out on an American Indian. He could tell me if he thought it was worthy, if I showed his culture proper respect and if I pronounced the names correctly. I thought to myself I’ve got my guitar, I’ve done this before in the '60s and '70s. I’m a former hippy child, why not? So I asked him, he said yes and I sang the song for the four American Indians. He said he liked the song and then asked me if I knew any more Indian Songs. I had just learned the Navaho Peace Prayer for a mass and I played that for him. He then stopped me and said he liked that also and then asked if he could recite something for me. He then recited a reading which he said was the ancient prophecy that had been fulfilled. It was that in the seventh generation, the white man's children would come in peace and understanding towards the American Indian. As I looked at him sort of in wonder, he asked me if I would like to play the Pow Wow that he was holding in Eastlake in a couple of weeks. I told him I didn’t know that many Indian songs. but he just said Beatles, or Neil Young would be fine. He said he would feed me some Buffalo Burgers and the deal was made. I left.

When I told my mother that this had happened, she said, "Only to you would this happen." My mom was who hadn’t laughed in weeks, (she was also on oxygen) had a joyful laugh.

I went to play the Pow Wow that Sunday and the minute I walked in, there I saw two people I knew. One was a young girl from my Christian Open Mic (with whom I hosted) who asked to sing with me. The other was someone who knew me, who I could only describe as a proselytizing born again Christian, who had come to witness and basically wanted me to tell the Indians to accept Jesus Christ as their Savior or they would burn in Hell. I was very happy and felt a bit privileged to be there and I was quite content to let my song do the talking. I went up, played my song and also did C'mon People, Smile On Your Brother In the middle of the song during an instrumental part, my young Christian singing friendasked everyone to close their eyes and let God speak to them in their own way. That was really inspired.

After I finished playing, the born again Christian lady came up to me as did an American Indian Woman who seemed to be in her late thirties or early 40’s. She asked me if the next time I sing C'mon People Smile On Your Brother, to sing on 'One Another', because that would include woman and also the animals. The born again Christian lady said something like, the important thing is to get out of your pagan gods control and find the one true way to God through Jesus Christ, and then she looked at me and said, "Right?." I was in a tough spot here. I do believe in Jesus Christ as the Way, the Truth and the Life. But I also know the Holy Spirit as someone who will not force himself on others and has an all-accepting love for all. I also have a profound respect for the Indian culture and the truth is that the white man and Christians have cheated the Indians right from the start. On top of it, she was raining on my parade. And on top of that I had just sang a song that addressed all these issues - Beautiful Spring. So I changed the subject.

Many times, Jesus didn’t answer questions but raised new ones and put his accusers on the spot. I asked both of them why they thought my song It Only Takes a Spark (to get a fire going) was so popular. Was it anti war song? Or a peace song? Or a patriotic war song? Or was it a Christian song or some sort of song that appealed to New-Agers? This song gets about 80 downloads a month. [Lyrics] [Audio]

Just Guise Liner Notes Essay on Rock Regae Polka Twistin'

I had been a musician for quite a while In Cleveland, Ohio, but I was not prepared for the adventure I was about to go on when I teamed up with Kindly Old Doctor Bob of "Just Guise". I knew the minute I saw him that I had found a true soul mate, a song writing partner and - most importantly - a true friend.

The 1980's were very special times for us. Taking our pens and papers, ready to write, we went wining and dining at some of the finest restaurants in northeast Ohio, ranging from arty University Circle to some of the more obscure places in Euclid. The food and conversation seemed to enhance our creativity and we were able to write some great songs like Breathtaking and They're Not Us.

But, oddly enough, it was a little humble McDonalds in South Euclid where we penned one of our most progressive pieces. I knew this was a special McDonalds when I saw the sign in the parking lot: "Those found eating in their cars will be under violation and will face stiff penalties". I was eating two cheeseburgers (I was still eating red meat at the time), staring at the broken salt containers, and the smeared ketchup on the yellow wrapper, drinking some of that really hot coffee.

Kindly Ol' and I realized at the same time (which was often the case) we had to use our position of media power in Cleveland to do something really worthwhile. We had tried through our song Breathtaking to make others aware of the pollution problem, but we needed to write something bigger and grander...

Then we knew! We'd make up a dance craze that would bring all nationalities in the city together with the Rock Reggae Polka Twist. And Oh, did it work! Cleveland was one big party town from then on, everyone dancing together. It worked so well that recently Cleveland has been re-admitted into the United States! But now with this new album we can reach millions more and generations to come. All over this great land, people are Rock Reggae Polka Twistin'. Through the power of a simple dance craze created at a humble McDonalds in South Euclid Ohio, multitudes have come to realize that hey, we've got a lot in common. If we can dance together maybe we can do lunch. Hey, not only is rock'n'roll here to stay but so is Just Guise and their Rock Reggae Polka Twistin'. Yeah.

My Father's Alzheimer's

My father, who had Alzheimers, had one main relief from his confusion, pain and crossed wires. By God's grace it was music. Being a full time musician, this situation truly helped me grow as it kept me going professionaly. While he was able to, there was nothing better which my father liked than to see me perform and hear me sing. This motivated me to try to further excel in my music and performances, plus it brought me into the concept of using musical tones for healing and therapy.

We all have heard of the dark side of alzheimers, the slow slipping away etc., but there is another way of looking at it. It is gradual way to say goodby, rather than a sudden non-existance of a loved one.. There is also a lighter side to some of the incidents, if you have eyes to see. My dad could be a pistol and, although difficult for my mother who was the care giver, he was usually a joyfor me. He became very childlike and spoke in abstract concepts. which appealed to my creative side. He called his shoes "shugs", refused to give a urine specimen to the doctor because he never heard of doing it that way and never went to the bathroom that way before. He said he liked to go to the bathroom at home in that big thing filled with water. He told the doctor, "If you want to do it so much like that You do it that way!"

My father could not remember my mom's name until one day when he was taken to the hospital. He was hoisted in a giant net of a scale to be weighed. As he dangled in the net, he cried out for the first time in years, "Irene!" When your caught in a trap, all of a sudden you remember are the names of the people who really can help you.

But as I said, music was the way out for him. My father would often sit in front of the T.V. for hours, watching country music videos, with the music relaxing him when nothing else could. My theory about this is that Alzheimer patients, at the beginning stages, are frustrated at first and embarrassed when they can't have conversations or follow logic. But music is not logical, so they can join in with everyone else on equal footing. Music reaches in to their hearts, reminds them of all that is harmonious and good, and often brings back precious memories which words and logic cant express. That's my theory.

If he were having a particularly bad day, imagining that someone was stealing his car or hurting his sister, my mom would call and summon me. I became the Pied Piper of Musical Healing, playing a song to soothe his weary soul. He would leave his world of confusion immediately after the music started and began to clap his hands, smiled and conducted his imaginary band in his head. It never failed.

On another bad day, he was fighting an imaginary person in his head, yelling and pointing at someone who wasn't there. I started playing my guitar and then he would and smile. I experimented once and talked to him instead of playing music and he said he would punch me out. Then I sang and he was happy and content. Truly amazing.

However, even Alzheimer patients have their limits. When we would go to my aunts on Thanksgiving, we would keep my father occupied with headphones to listen to classical music to keep him out of mischief. One occaision, he began to get anxious and began to take off his headphones after listening for quite a while. I'd say, "why don't you put your headphones on and listen to more music dad?" He said, "if you like it so much you try it. I've been listening for 3 hours!"

Alzheimer's isn't easy, but I really believe our loved ones, who are stuck with this terrible disease, would prefer us to keep (as much as possible) some humor and lightness about the situation. The last thing they would want would be to burden us. And I'll give you a useful tip from someone who survived someone who went through the care-giving Alzheimer's experience. Try some music! From personal observation, it seems to be a wonderful soothing experience for those who suffer with Alzheimer's. It may not be acure but it's a wonderful distraction and a good band aid.

A Diverse Familyand the Parakeet by Denny Carleton

While playing the guitar at a family gathering (with my parakeet accompanying me - whistling, chirping and singing), my mother and father (who had Alzheimer's), my former wife plus her mother and Palestinian stepfather all were content, enjoying the music.

The thought occurred to me as I observed this diverse group, that music truly is the universal language. I believe that not only the animals, but all people and nationalities from Palestinian to Israeli, would have been able to enjoy the tones of the music in unity on that day.

Have our words built another tower of Babel? Can melodic music give usa glimpse into all that is right and good harmonious and eternal?

The Dog Story

I had a guitar student, named Jacob, who was a clinical dependency counselor. He was born in England, had lived in Toronto, Ontario for years but was a U.S. citizen. Jacob was Jewish, married to a Catholic lady. A very diverse, well rounded, nice interesting man. He asked me to come to his house to teach him the guitar and the piano. As a music student he was great and he would often share with me some of his knowledge. This is a great benefit of being a private music teacher: the stories you get to hear and the people that you get to know.

Jacob taught me quite a few interesting things, that have stayed with me to this day. He stopped me once and explained to me that he was the type of student who learned visually, needing to see what he was doing. Some learn through hearing, others text, yet others learn with concepts and so forth. To teach your instrument successfully, you must listen to the people your teaching to find out the way the way they need to learn. This fit in with what Brother Stan, a friend of mine (a member of the Marianists - a Christian Contemplative Catholic Community) had told me was part of their philosophy. You have to respect people's rhythms. We all are different.

There was one funny incident and if the story wasn't true, it would be a little too precious. Jacob had a big red dog. Whenever I came or left, the dog would get crazy, jumping barking etc. He would say, "down, down" and the dog would get a treat if he went down and sat. This particular day I had given Jacob a piano lesson, but before I left he wanted one more tip about the guitar. For some reason, every time he strummed, he played the beats on the wrong accent and it sounded like reggae - which is fine, but that's now what we wanted, yet. So he asked, "does the strum go down up, down up, or up down?" The dog began to bark, and Jacob, who has heard this barking routine many times before, is oblivious to the supplication for a treat. He is a busy man and wants to get this strum straight, for once. I, attempting to be a good teacher, say very slowly, loudly and patiently, "down up, down up." John repeats and the dog's head goes down on the floor, then gets up, then goes down, then stands up. Jacob says, "can you say that again?" It's the same routine, dog's head goes down, ready for the treat, then jumps up at attention, etc. Jacob says, "just one more time let me try this strum," because no matter how hard he tried he couldn't quite get it. I then say, "down up! down up!" and the dog with what I believe was a look of bewilderment on his face, puts his head on floor the with his paws on his head. As John put it, "he's probably saying, you crazy human beings really don't know what you want."

The Indian’s Blues

Of course there is a story about the song the Cleveland Indians Blues I started to write when I was teaching at Lakeland Community college. I was teaching a life long learning class in adult education. The course was called a creative song writing course. During that time I brainstormed with every body to help them throw in lyrics to write some songs. I would give them creative ideas such as lets write a new dance craze or lets write a new song called Blowing In the Wind.

One of the creative ideas I had was to write a new theme song for the Cleveland Indians. At the time Indians were losing 100 games a season and Michael Stanley had written an Indians theme song called This Is Our Team. I almost felt like saying this is your team I don’t know if its my team. The idea, of course, to the song was this is our team in Cleveland and we are so proud of them. It was kind of a generic Up With People feel-good song. Well, the idea I had (which I thought would be more appropriate) would be to have an Indian’s song that would really reflect how we, the fan’s felt. It would have to be a blues song because they had been bad since the '60s when they traded Rocky Colovito. It was in the mid '80s when we tried to write this song.

Now, for the people who got used to Jacob’s field, before there was Jacob’s field in the '90s, there were bad baseball teams and they didn’t sell quiche at the baseball game and the seats weren't all comfortable, and the bathrooms were overcrowded, flooded and generally bad. Yes, the bathrooms were flooded - contemplate that for a while...

The stadium held 80,000 people but only about 3,000 would attend. That included the beer sellers who yelled, "Ice cold beer here!" really loud with a huge echo..in a barren stadium while 2000 plus watched bad baseball teams in usually cold, damp weather.

So the old Indians were nothing like the dynasty that the team had in the '90s. Thus, we brainstormed to write the ultimate blues songs for the Indians. Everyone in the class threw in a couple of lines. One guy, Louis Tucker, said, "all I know is I was listening to the game in the 8th inning and they were winning 7 to four - and they lose the game 9-8". I mentioned that it had been a 30 year slump and I also pointed out the fact that you see so many ex-Indians in the All Star game. There it was - we wrote the Cleveland Indians Blues song with help of the Lakeland Community College class.

A few months later, Bob Pillskaln and I added a chorus and changed it a bit, then decided to record it. I went over to Chris Butcher's to record it, got Jack Freeman to play bass, Mac Chafer to play drums and Al Globokar to play lead guitar. We recorded it with I’m a Fan, a parody of I’m a Man. We had to get permission to parody this song from Bo Diddley's publishing company. They gave permission and they said they liked it. The recording of the two songs turned out well.

Well after about three weeks, I was asked to go on local TV to promote a concert that I was putting on for Cuyahoga Community College. I went to the show and as I was sitting in the guestroom, my fellow guests came in and sat with me. Bob Feller, the famous Cleveland Indians pitcher, sat down along with Rocco Scotti who was famous in Cleveland for singing the National Anthem. They were there to promote the idea for fund raising to put a new statue of Bob Feller in front of the Cleveland Indians stadium. There was also Bob Dibiasio, who was the publicity director of the Cleveland Indians. So I thought this was pretty neat, hanging out with a hall of fame pitcher and a legendary singer of Cleveland.

So as Bob and Rocco went on TV I was left with Bob Dibiasio, who is a really friendly guy, and we sort of hit it off. I know a lot about baseball and I was giving him my theories about what position Julio Franco should play, etc. In other words small talk, baseball-style. As I was talking to him, it hit me that Bob might have a different opinion of me if he knew how I had written a song trashing his baseball team.

A week later after that, I saw in the Cleveland Scene Magazine that a new movie about the Cleveland Indians was being made. The story line was how the Indians were perennial losers. The movie was called Major League. I thought to myself, "Oh this is perfect. Surely the Lord is with me. I’ve written a song about the Indians being terrible and now they’re making a movie about it. How could I contact the moviemakers?" Then I said to myself, "if I have enough nerve to contact Bob Dibiasio, maybe he could help me out." So having enough nerve, I contacted him and asked him if he would be willing to hear this song about the Indians. To my surprise he said yes and he told me liked it. He said maybe the Indians would be looked at like the New York Mets as lovable losers, and he gave me the address to the producers of the film, told me to tell the producers he sent me and gave me his blessing.

I then sent my song out to Major League, spoke with the producers and got their telephone numbers. They told me they liked it, that it didn’t quite fit the movie but they would keep it in my mind if anything arose in post production. Nothing did and the song wasn’t included in the film. Instead they used LA based Randy Newman’s song about the burning river and another song called Wild Thing. So close but yet so far. Great Big 'Almost'. When I saw the movie, I really had the Cleveland Indians Blues. I remembered watching the movie and feeling happy, yet sad and a bit lonely, realizing that I knew a story about this movie that no one in the theater knew. But now at least you know it now and I feel a little less lonely.

[Lyrics]

The Story Behind the Story Of the Making Of the Song: Whiskey Island

Many of my songs have long involved stories and here is one of them. I was taking a poetry class via the television through Cuyahoga Community College. During this time of studying the likes of TS Eliot, Mary Moore (to name some cool poets), I saw an article in the Cleveland Plain Dealer about the history of Whiskey Island, which is actually a peninsula on the near West Side of Cleveland - very close to the Cleveland Flats. In the article, the writer talked about the history of the island and the basic ambiance...woods and weeds, dogs and deer. It all sounded so poetic, probably because I was so saturated and immersed in poetry from my class. I read the article and in no time wrote the music and the lyrics to the song Whiskey Island, in sort of a rough draft form. About a year later I was teaching guitar and one of my students, Terry, told me that he knew the man who had just purchased the island and that he might be interested in hearing the song if I'd record it. So I tightened the song up, recorded it and gave it to Terry to give to his friend. I had visions of the island selling the CD of mine as some sort of tourist trinket or souvenir.

Terry’s friend heard the song and his comment on it was, "It’s cute". That was all that was said. After this, I thought, "Well this is typical in my life; I have a new song and what motivated me to write it is now gone. But at least I have a new tune."

Then about two years later, I was teaching guitar again and a different student told me that he ran a bait shop near Whiskey Island. He said that he had an idea that and to his surprise it had been warmly received and had been put in motion by the powers that be. The Municipal Cleveland Stadium, which had housed the Cleveland Indians and Cleveland Browns for many years, was torn down to make room for the new Cleveland Brown Stadium. The original plan had been to dispose of all the concrete of the demolished stadium in a waste dump. Dave (the student), being a fisherman and owning a bait shop had a better idea. Why couldn’t the government, after demolishing the stadium, put the concrete in lake Erie in selected spots to establish fishing reefs? It has been shown that concrete placed in the correct places in the lake would purify the water, increase the fishing and would increase the popularity of Lake Erie as a fishing destination. The Mayor of Cleveland liked the idea, plus the Governor and all the proper authorities said, "yes." So Dave's idea was used and they demolished the stadium and created the fishing reefs.

Media in Dallas and Florida then had contacted him, as well as ecology-minded groups from all over Ohio. He had become somewhat of a spokesman for environmental causes. For some reason, in my mind I then thought Dave should hear my song, Whiskey Island. he Might say, "hey you write well, why not write some mores songs about the environment and I’ll financially back you on an environmental CD?" I brought Dave the song to hear and he said, "You know, you write really well. Why don’t you write some environmental songs and I’ll back you? Then I can hand the CD out to people, when I do speaking engagements, etc."

So I said yes and began to write some environment al songs. The first thing I thought of when I began to write is that I didn’t want to be pretentious and obvious. I also remembered the Frank Zappa comment about if your not laughing and being entertaining when your trying to change how people think, your going to be boring. When Frank wanted to introduce avante garde instrumental pieces he asked all the musicians if they would be willing to dress up and look really ugly. He did this for entertainment value, because he knew it would be easier for the masses to take in an entertaning package.

Next was Environmental Girlfriend, with a fast punk rock beat, done acoustically. Then, Pick It Up, which is an acoustic song with a heavy metal structure. I tried to experiment so I wasn’t just standing there strumming up and down, singing boring songs. I realized some of my songs, like Coney Island Blues, were loosely related to environmental concerns, so I put together sort of a collage of environmental songs like Phleuger, Shakespeare and Mitchel. When I was about done, I realized that for me being a Christian and believing that ultimate answers to life lie in the true Gospel, I had to have a song that said Jesus is the answer. Helping the environment is good, but if you’re miserable because you do not have a relationship with Christ, it’s not going to do you any good in eternity. Hence, I wrote Peter on the Water.

I looked up in the Bible as many references to water as I could find and sort of witnessed though the song. With that song finished, I presented the CD to Dave who then disappeared from my life. I thought, "Well, now I have an album and no one to back me, so I will put it out myself." So, in 1999 I put out the album, sold a few, gave a few away and performed the songs from the CD, live.

A few years later, my friend Dan told me that a lady was on WCPN Radio (National Public Radio) in Cleveland and she was talking about a book she had written called, Whiskey Island. Emile Richard’s would be autographing her book in the Galleria in downtown Cleveland Dan suggested that maybe I should meet her. I got in my car on that rainy day and went downtown, to meet her. I brought my CD and Emil was very nice and very pleasant. She gave one of her books in exchange for My CD of the same title. I asked her how she had gotten to idea to write the book and she said she had read the same article in The Cleveland Plain Dealer as I had read. That must of has been some article to inspire both of us. I thought that it was quite a coincidence. Then I asked if she was Irish. Whiskey Islands history is the history of the Irish settling in Cleveland. She said no she was German, Irish, English, Welsh and French - which caught me off guard, because that was the first match I had ever met wh shared my ethnic roots and I shared that with her. We both looked at each other.

Well that's basically the end of the story of my Whiskey Island CD. [Lyrics]