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Sunday In The Park With Tens of Thousands of Irish People And Those Wanting To Be Irish h

Why I decided to go downtown to get a haircut in the middle of the  St Patrick’s Day Parade will have to remain a mystery.  “Tens of thousands of spectators” is how the news described it.  And just who decides what the  “official estimates”  are? I was there. My official estimate: lot’s of people. I had to walk 3 blocks to just cross the street…took a good half hour for that…then I noticed this really great marching band passing by and had to stop for that…and then when I did manage to cross the street I realized I was standing right in front of Harrington’s…all the shoulder to shoulder jostling  with the crowds and making my way through the revelry, well, I worked up quite a thirst and just had to stop. I mean what could I do? What would you do? Naturally one quick shot turned in to two, then three…after 4 I must say…I was Irish and  my hair looked just fine…

Detours are the best things that can happen to you in life.  They are.  Don’t even bother trying to argue the point.  So many years ago my day trip to Brighton landed me in Bath…wrong train, right time. Instead of a walk on the Brighton Peer, I met Ursula Kline in a pub in Bath, who in turn introduced me to Adrian Dunning, Ian Ward, and Stephen (last name escapes me) when I returned to London…then, all of us ending up in Spichern, France…like I said, don’t bother arguing the point. Stay with me here…

The reason I started this blog was to describe what it is like to record a record…CD…what ever…the day to day of the studio experience, ups and downs…try to relate to you, the sheer boredom at times, the waiting to set up the mics…this one here that one there…no?…try this, how about this…but also share with you those breakthrough moments when you are riding a Maverick and nothing can get in your way.  Those moments when you are so on top of the fucking world, flying through auditory bliss you forget all that went before and you couldn’t give two fucks about what’s going to happen next…you cannot plan this.  You can hope it might happen, but plan for it? Never.

The reason I went back into the studio after a 10+ year (ok, 15 year) absence was because out of the blue I started writing songs again.  For so long I had nothing to say musically until one day,  for some reason, I found a voice, my voice…again. It’s that simple.  My acoustic guitar scratchings and lyrical attempts to connect with something took flight and it’s been a non stop race ever since. Mid life crises? Absolutely! Do I care that people rub that tired explanation for erratic behavior, and the unwavering belief in the impossible in may face? Fuck No! The music will speak for itself.  The music will speak for itself…

In the end, the music really will speak for itself. Like it or not, I can’t do much about that. But damn…this has sure been one hell of a ride. And it’s not over yet.

Back in the studio this Wednesday…re-doing what I thought I had already finished…just  another little detour…and you know what they say about detours…

luv ya all!

yours…RV

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About My Personal Mess

Musician Songwriter

One response to “Sunday In The Park With Tens of Thousands of Irish People And Those Wanting To Be Irish h

  1. will stevens ⋅

    You Old Bat!

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