You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Music’ tag.
How can you not like Run DMC?
And, athletic, albeit un-ballerina-like dancing?
Just watch this video. Do it! It starts out great, and then gets better and better. I’ll swear to God that it’s worth your time:
…just so you know… It’s Like That is/ was a fan-fave Run DMC, certifiable hit.
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork
And, I do keep my socks on. Socks mean business.
All you can do is HOWL with the sheer genius of this. When you’re not “a bit sleepy” you simply must tell your collective “business” partners about business socks – and how amazingly funny this is.
Peace be to my Brothers and sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork
rain does not make a lot of sense.
it rarely comes when we need it. and, it’s almost always certain to appear when most inconvenient.
that makes rain rather like surprises.
I hate rain. and, naturally, I love rain.
rain is bad. rain is good.
I prefer to run in the rain; a down pour, please.
that might be where pain meets ecstasy.
perhaps rain, like most things, is what we make of it.
so, I’m listening to U2 and Running to Stand Still.
me? I’m running to the light.
peace be to my brothers and sisters.
brian patrick cork
“ALL GOOD THINGS MUST COME TO AN END” – There is an end to everything, to good things as well. The proverb dates back to about 1374 (Chaucer). First attested in the United States around 1680. The word ‘good’ was added much later. ‘Everything has an end’ and ‘Everything comes to an end’ are variants of the proverb.
In the end, we are undone, perhaps in only our current form through treachery, deceit and selfishness – all qualities that are, ironically, so un-Shockers Nation-like.
As one of our parents so aptly pointed out… Perhaps they, my erstwhile hearty and ferocious Shockers, have become accustomed to the unique experience and take it for granted (this includes parents). Now, they must drink from another cup and make that their comparison.
Will Natural Selection always prevail?
follow me boys. it’s glory or death, then.
dramatic words, to be sure.
however, we’re realizing another period in our nations history where drama and action are relevant and required. Aubrey Nelson said it first (as far as I know), but Neal Boortz repeated it – and, with great emphasis. We may well be facing the single greatest challenge to our country since the Civil War. mind you, war has a unique way of catapulting a society to another level. that can be a higher level, or a lower level.
I don’t know if shots will be fired, other than from debating floor. but, I’m convinced that change needs to be the result.
our national deficit, which means debt, may be creeping towards unprecedented levels. back when England, France and Spain were much younger as nations they also owed a lot of money so they set out to discover new territories. we may not have that option, other than Mexico. more on that later, but annexing Mexico makes a lot of economic and strategic sense.
England has committed to reducing government spending by twenty-five percent (25%) until their deficit is “manageable”. trust me, they mean it. and, few people can knuckle down better than the English. I’m married to one of them. the French on the other hand are rioting in the streets. I don’t know if it’s because they have embraced a Muslim culture, or if it’s because they can’t survive, as a people, without direct government distribution of broader fiscal management.
historically, our own (more) direct ancestors faced some tough decisions and then challenges in terms of whom they might follow – the English and/ or the French.
by the way… the French are not as self-entitled as our media would have you think. it’s mostly that they have become dependent on a government that tells it’s people what to do as opposed to leading by example.
as it turned out, from the historical rear-view mirror, we learned vital lessons from both and followed our own destiny. now Barack Obama and his total lack of both business acumen and disregard for anything other than his personal desire to stay in power, threaten everything that a Capitalist-oriented nation with appropriate oversight and checks and balances should stand for.
broad statements, I know. and, the debate, with salient details, will take better form elsewhere.
but, the question, here, is whom shall we follow? England or France?
lessons both learned and taught from my own experience with standing armies, and in business, is if you don’t like what is happening you change the rules, or you change the circumstances. so, perhaps I run the risk of being called a dissident or a heretic – depending on your historical perspective – and, think like the English or the French. but, we must needs realize change.
so… getting back to that drama… it really might be about glory or death. I am a patriot. I am also an influencer. and, I think first, and foremost like a Jeffersonian and the heterodox. let’s go ahead and toss in some Ayn Rand for good measure. Barack Obama would fear, and also hate, both of them – just like Golem despised the light (Lord of the Rings). fight the evil. let’s not be like the French and allow an insidious and ill-conceived agenda inspire rot in our culture that will disallow our children to realize what this nation was founded upon, and can be yet, in terms of a global beacon of truth and light.
I have a torch, in hand. and, I’m lighting it here. follow me boys. it’s glory, or death.
meanwhile, lets listen to “its the end of the world, as we know it” by REM (this tune never had a dedicated music video of it’s own. but, this offering is relatively apropos.
peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
brian patrick cork
I miss my Dad.
I think my readers (and, certainly those of you, otherwise, closer to me) know that he took his own life on October 6th, the day before my Birthday. That was a good number of years ago. But, the rawness of it still explodes at the back of my skull every October. I had this gripping post ready to go. But, I’ve sat on it for weeks, uncertain why, until now.
Yesterday I had a good day with Emma Jo.
A quick aside, if you’ll indulge me… I spend a good amount of time with Haley Anne – especially around proper football (soccer). She is gorgeous. And, yesterday I realized that she is developing a love for writing, in her own right. My Dad had more of a gift for drawing. But, her creativity, in general, would have delighted him.
Meanwhile… We are preparing to move our household deeper North into Alpharetta (Milton) horse country off Freemanville Road. There is a long story attached to this. But, I’m more interested in some of the highlights occurring in and around the “big picture”.
While rummaging through the storage spaces in, what will shortly be referred to as the “old house”, we came upon containers crammed with family photos. In one crumbling box was a treasure trove of photo albums and curling black and white snap shots of Haley Anne and Emma Jo’s ancestors. This included my Dad in many an enigmatic situation. There were a bunch of them with him with his arm around me. Or, me hugging him from behind while he worked on some project (this made me recall that I often hugged my Dad. I never shied away from that, even in public, through High School and College). And, these fascinated Emma Jo. She took right to them with an endless and insightful stream of questions. But, the best part was the bonding as she snuggled into me. So, she was my “buddy” all day. We made a few trips back-and-forth to the “new house” having loaded up my big black bad-ass truck. And, we were fortunate to have another classically beautiful Georgia Fall day because the drivers-side window is broke and won’t close. So, we had this incredible moment with a lull in the easy conversation when Emma Jo was caught thinking carefully between questions and observations. She looked so happy. The golden light was pouring through the window and highlighting her hair, still almost white from the lake and sun, that had the wind pushing wildly around her shoulders and face. Her cobalt blue eyes were bright as diamonds. She looked over at me winsomely and shrugged, rather shyly. And, it struck me that Dad had ironically created this moment.
I was so incredibly thankful.
Dad was a better man than me. And, I was fortunate to have him in my life. And, he is always my inspiration for the sort of earthly father I try to be every day. So… October sixth can come and go. But, Dad and Mom live on through Emma Jo and Haley Anne. And, all of it means me living the Authentic Life.
You can roll your collective eyes at me – and, I’ll give it little merit. And, so, I’ll share this video from Glee and their cover of: I Want To Hold Your Hand with you. It’s apropos, to be sure, and I think Chris Colfer is a terrific singer.
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork
Last week – let’s pin this on Monday – Haley Anne was still thirteen. Long legs, almond-eyed, and a fury on the soccer pitch. I’ll add adored by her Daddy, for good measure. But, that’s hardly news to the loyal followers of this Blog.
Haley Anne has always been wired for independence. She was never likely to hurl herself off of a four-story roof top with a home made parachute like I did at ten. But, she has her own mind and the steely resolve to realize it. She’s been a handful lately getting the sense of herself with all the trials-and-tribulations that come with being a teenage girl in the savage hallways of Middle School. All-in-all I’m quite pleased with her. Joanne takes the brunt and the heat of Haley Anne’s hormone-drenched temperament, while I still have more opportunities than not to be the hero. But, I’m navigating dark waters on any given day.
Mondays… They loom over us don’t they? Whereas Tuesdays are best for police raids, it’s Mondays that herald a week full of opportunity. …This includes life’s unexpected lessons.
Last Monday was the first day of the new school year and Haley Anne is now in the eighth grade. Middle school is tough, and the girls that are found in the halls are often colorful enough to put a New York City Vice Squad on edge. Haley Anne arrived safely home (she actually enjoys the bus) and was full of war stories. Most of them are of middling consequence, to me, any way – and, to yourselves, naturally. And, I was probably more focused on the evening’s soccer practice, and being content with the fact that her dress was evidently well regarded, her classes found without adventure, and her lunch crowd cordial.
We’ll step lively forward with this tale, acknowledging only that the above preamble is insufficient to signal the change of life that has forever altered my own world view. …That aforementioned, and unexpected, life lesson.
Dinner was a quick bite of lasagna before we were off to practice. That went swell as usual. Then home to a few quick emails and bed. Sleep comes fast in my head. The pillow and a death-like coma are quick and easy friends, for me.
But… With her uncanny ability to unhinge me from any deep sleep Joanne shoved my shoulder later that evening with a curt:
“you need to read this”.
What I heard in Joanne’s voice was a mixture of bemused angst (its possible, and Joanne, being English has it perfected). I wasn’t expecting a foreclosure notice or ransom note so I was a bit slow to pull myself together for thought leadership. However glowing in the dark, and hovering in front of my face was Haley Anne’s iPhone (I knew this because mine is an iPhone 4, while Haley Anne’s is a 3G, and emma Jo’s 3G [minus SIMs Card] has a crack in the screen). All this quickly spun out of my head as I was shocked into alertness by the message:
“I LOve You. Let’s get back together”.
I’m not sure if it was adrenalin, fear, anger, numbing shock, or unrepentent outrage that surged through my body like spinach might Pop-eye from the old cartoons. But, I must have read the message ten times before I simply asked Joanne:
“who the hell sent that to Haley Anne?”
The simple response was:
“_____ – the kid from summer”.
So… Here’s the abbreviated background scenario…
Many of Haley Anne’s friends are involved in some form or another with “boyfriends”. In our household, the rule is NO BOYFRIENDS until our daughters are fifteen years of age. None. That’s it. And, that means the stuff that goes along with boyfriends. Any of it. Period. Haley Anne apparently caught the eye of this young fellow last year, and he launched a deluge of texts at her all summer. Joanne had a series of talks with Haley Anne that I won’t burden you with. But, we were satisfied that Haley Anne understood the rules and we have a clear and binding covenant in our family. I trust my daughter. And, I’m developing trust and faith in her judgment. I’m training her to be a leader in both her thinking and actions.
All along the way, I’m also being trained by my daughters, and life, as seen through their eyes, to be more open-minded and open-hearted.
I drove Haley Anne to school the next day. I asked her along the way if she wanted to talk to me about “_____”. She paused before answering barely enough to gather her breath because she’s a quick thinker, and wit, that one.
“he’s only a friend Daddy. I know what I want; and, it’s not a boyfriend. I just like having a lot of great friends.”
That helped me. And, reaffirmed Haley Anne has her wits about me – or, is a brilliant actress. I’ll submit there is all that afoot. But, here is how I’m handling this matter:
“I love you with all my heart, and I’m more proud of you you each and every day. There is a lot of change afoot. And, I need your help. If you ever think you know what love is, or start to have feelings for some lucky lad, I want you to try something… In fact, let’s give it a go this week… Find a poem that you think and feel is about love. You can’t be wrong. Just try. Just like in football (soccer) – give it your best. You can never disappoint me with effort. It’s all about interpretation. All I really care about is your opinion, your thinking, and your feelings. You can write the poem if you want to. The only rule is that it has to be something you would be willing to read and give to a person you think you love. That might be a test that you are ready to share your heart with someone other than me.”
My voice cracked, just a bit. So, she knew where all of this was coming from.
She was quiet. And, looked at me. I got the simple, slow, gentle nod with the far away look behind the eyes.
I love being a Dad. And, I trust my daughter. I’m putting a lot of faith on the line. I feel great. But, I also have the same feeling in the pit of my stomach that I have before a big race or other competition.
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork