Thread by @OnKBHR

Morning Cicelians,
Chris in the Morning getting you up a little earlier than usual, this morning. I've got a busy day ahead - so do you. So, get that coffee on, whip up that bacon, knock those cobwebs off the ceiling...(thread) #northernexposure

While you're doing all of that, what do you think of the words of Thom Paine who said, "Man did not enter this society to be worse off than he was before, or to have fewer rights than he had before, but to have those rights better secured" ?

When it comes to the right of the mind, he never surrendered. The mind - that wonderful breeding ground of contradictory impulses like, love and hate, rage and empathy. They've all been invited to the party, so you might as well make room for them...

I bit the snooze alarm a little hard myself this morning. I was up late partying with Chef Adam - grooving on his hospitality. You know, being plied with fine food always reminds me of being in the slammer. The chow in there was good too, always high fat but nice & salty...

But, the worst deprivation in jail was my music. The radio belonged to my cellmate - the 'Blonde Hammer'. He was into that jazz-fusion thing at the time. I tell ya' you'd get enough of Spyro Gyra that you'd be hoping you'd get killed in a knife fight...

Anyway, I used to sit around thinking about all the songs I wanted to hear when I got out. One of the first songs I played on that K-mart turntable on my first day of freedom was 'Pencil Neck Geek' by Fred Blassie. I'm not gonna spin it this morning - and you probably know why.

Many years ago I was reminiscing on this and played the tune. Our local taxidermist, Edgar Hankins was tuned in that morning. Later that day he brought his favorite goat into the garage with him, closed all the doors and started up his truck. Double suicide.

He left a note, laying his death at my door.

"I cast my lot with Chris Stevens. He played the song on the radio that said it all for me - Pencil Neck Geek."

I'll never forget when Walt told me about it in the laundromat.

If you remember, I got a lot of mail after Edgar's death

One read:

"Gentleman, I recall a few years ago Chris Stevens played the song 'Revolution' while I was driving. There's no denying the power of that song and I made a right turn too fast and side swiped a fire hydrant. Before Edgar's death, I never made the connection."

This rattled me, no doubt. I came to be wary of the power I wielded at the end of my microphone. I even started to purge my collection of vinyl of anything I thought might be too gloomy. I replaced Billie Holiday for Beethoven's pastoral symphony - a guaranteed 'up-elevator.'

The problem is I played a song that was beautiful to me but hit a button labeled "emotional meltdown" for poor Edgar. I don't know why that is. Two guys look out through prison bars - one sees mud, the other sees stars. It's just in the works, I guess...

But maybe that's no excuse. Maybe those of us who are lucky enough to touch others through art, or over the airwaves have an obligation to think about all those eyes and ears out there. Especially in these divided times...

But then again, maybe art and culture and personal expression are more like bumper cars. We're all out here in the rink, and we're gonna bump into each other from time to time. There's just no way around it. Anyway - I'm spinning this one for Edgar who is looking down on us...

...rather literally, actually - as we're reminded every time we visit the men's room in the Brick - he stuffed that big spotted owl over the door. Anyway, this one is for you Edgar..

Jimi Hendrix Hey Joe via @YouTube