Terrapin Station - The Grateful Dead (Robert Hunter - words)

Let my inspiration flow in token rhyme, suggesting rhythm
That will not forsake you, till my tale is told and done.
While the firelight's aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow,
Till things we've never seen will seem familiar.

Shadows of a sailor, forming winds both foul and fair all swarm.
Down in Carlisle, he loved a lady many years ago.
Here beside him stands a man, a soldier from the looks of him,
Who came through many fights, but lost at love.

While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks;
Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there.
Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair,
She takes her fan and throws it, in the lion's den.

Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance.
The sailor gave at least a try, the soldier being much too wise,
Strategy was his strength, and not disaster.

The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him.
That's how it stands today. You decide if he was wise.
The story teller makes no choice. Soon you will not hear his voice.
His job is to shed light, and not to master.

Since the end is never told, we pay the teller off in gold,
In hopes he will return, but he cannot be bought or sold.

Inspiration, move me brightly. Light the song with sense and color;
Hold away despair, more than this I will not ask.
Faced with mysteries dark and vast, statements just seem vain at last.
Some rise, some fall, some climb, to get to Terrapin.

Counting stars by candlelight, all are dim but one is bright;
The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best,
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon,
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune,
Terrapin Station.

In the shadow of the moon, Terrapin Station.
And I know we'll get there soon, Terrapin Station.
I can't figure out, Terrapin, if it's the end or beginning, Terrapin,
But the train's put it's brakes on, Terrapin,
And the whistle is screaming, TERRAPIN.

While you were gone, these spaces filled with darkness.
The obvious was hidden. With nothing to believe in,
Sullen wings of fortune beat like rain.
You're back in Terrapin for good or ill again

...for good or ill again.

Ever Have One Of Those Days...

...a lifetime in a row…or at least it feels that way?

Like this morning, I’m up really early preparing for the first presentation I have to give. I’m the behind-the-scenes guy, the one who doesn’t wear a suit or carry a briefcase.

So, while I’m preparing for my presentation, I also go out and purchase a suit – a nice suit, not the someone-just-died-so-any-suit-will-do-because they’re-focused-on-the-dead-person-and-not-what-you’re-wearing suit. I mean a real suit. (Read: expensive). And I have to buy a briefcase, my very first one. Again, very expensive.

Finally, it’s time and off I go, and, as soon as I step outside - I’m sure you guessed it as the story’s an old one - an enormous, big-enough-to-fit-a-person-bigger-than-myself-inside-it saber-toothed tiger swallows me whole and, since I just gave up smoking, I don’t have a lighter, so I can’t see a thing.

A realization quickly hit: Smoking has its good points.

Suddenly I hear an UNGODLY ROAR and feel us – let’s face it, the saber-toothed tiger and I are in it together now for good or bad – being picked up and have the sensation of the both of us being swallowed whole again by something clearly big enough to accomplish this. And then this haunting, echoing, rhythmic CLOMP…CLOMP, the sound of CRUNCHING METAL, SCREAMS of people running. And then…

A THUNDEROUS EXPLOSION and then another and then another and then…the sensation of falling. And then the saber-toothed tiger and I are spit up and I’m spit out of the saber-toothed tiger.

Assessing the situation, the military tanks (the source of the explosions), the beyond-colossal Tyrannosaurus Rex (that swallowed the saber-toothed tiger and me…and was felled my the artillery shells), and I get pissed. And I mean ROYALLY PISSED.

My new suit is sopping wet with globs of saber-tooth intestinal juice, as is my briefcase, so I have to buy new ones and NOW.

So, I enter a clothing store. Or I should say, attempt to enter a clothing store, when a clerk stops me and informs me the store has strict policies regarding animals not being allowed in the store. I look down and, sure enough, the saber-toothed tiger, now in rigormortis, had somehow wrapped its paws around one of my legs and I had been carrying this mammoth animal’s dead weight around without even noticing.

The leg training is definitely paying off.

So, I rid myself of the tiger, buy yet another expensive, new suit and expensive, new briefcase, transfer what I need for the presentation from the old one (kudos to the makers as my material was completely dry, not one goop of intestinal juice) to the new one and am off.

And when I arrive with half-a-nanosecond to spare, I not only find a tear in my new suit sleeve, but, for the life of me, I cannot remember the combination of the new briefcase.

And it’s only 9:30am!!!

This is the day I mean when I say ‘one of those days a lifetime in a row.’

WRITER’S ADMITTANCE: Not all in this story is true. The clothing store, while not allowing most animals, does have one caveat:

Gargantuan, dead saber-toothed tigers that have been swallowed whole by even more gargantuan T-Rexes, spit out after the T-Rex is felled by military artillery and wrap their rigormortised-paws around a human leg are allowed.

…but only paying customers can use the bathrooms.

Fright Night (1985)

FRIGHT NIGHT written and driected by: Tom Holland

“I just destroyed your car, Charlie.” These words spoken by Jerry Dandridge (Chris Sarandon), Charley’s new neighbor/vampire are the least of Charley’s worries when, like any precocious, curious teen in a horror movie, he continues to meddle in the vampire’s business. (My motto regarding vampires: Live And Let Live…or die as the case may be…as long as it’s not me).

So, what does Charley do? Bring his mother, friends, and police in whom – shock of shocks – don’t believe him. When that fails, he brings in the broke, recently fired host of a midnight ghoul show “Fright Night,” Peter “The Great Vampire Killer” Vincent (Roddy McDowell who believes most whole-heartedly in vampires…until Charley says he has one living across the street.

Finally agreeing to help for money Charley’s friends give him and to get Charley off his back, he discovers Dandridge actually is a vampire when he doesn’t cast a reflection in a mirror. This all leads to an old-fashioned showdown, Dandridge opening the proceedings with: Welcome to Fright Night…for real!

Made with tender care that reflects the writer/director’s love of old B-Vampire movies, ‘Fright Night’ has particularly excellent special effects. I say “particularly” because these aren’t “look at what we can do even though they have nothing to do with the movie” effects. These are there only in service of the story.

My love of every aspect of this movie sincere, this piece really belongs to Chris Sarandon (so good – and young - in ‘A Dog Day Afternoon’). His I-can-only-love-the-night-life-I-got-to-boogie-plus-I-could-kill-you-easily-so-let’s-have-fun vampire is just that, fun to watch.

MASTER ACTING CLASS IN ONE SCENE: Roddy McDowell as Peter Vincent, in a Me or Him situation, must kill one of Charley’s friends whose been turned into a demon Hell dog by Dandridge. The empathy that plays not just across McDowell’s face but emanates from his deepest core as he helplessly watches him die, wanting to help but knowing he can’t as this is no longer that innocent boy is heart-wrenching. Everyone should see this, but actors especially, as they glean a lesson or realize how far they have to go and buckle down all the harder.

NICE TOUCH: Beginning by destroying the car, as a car is everything to a teen.

ONE THING ABOUT RODDY MCDOWELL that has nothing to do with the film. Elisabeth Taylor – I think it was her – told a story about how Roddy was the one all his friends would gravitate to with problems as he was always there, happy to lend an ear for as long as the person needed to talk, maybe offer some advise. Anyway, she said she called him up one day and prattled on, Roddy yet again lending a kind ear for however long she needed to talk.

A few days later, she learned his body was riddled with cancer. Not only did he not tell her to screw off, he didn’t even mention it…to anybody.

So, the world lost a great acting talent, but, more important, a tremendous human being.

Growing Up - Peter Gabriel

Just a one line snippet, another one of my favorites


My ghosts like to travel

- Peter Gabriel (words)