Now, more than ever, Iraq the Model

Please read the last couple of entries from the Iraqis blog. There's a permanent link over on the right side, or click here now.

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Easter Sunday on the South Side

Oh, woe to those who don't live in our little town. Sunday morning the alarm clock rang at 5:30 am. I stumbled out of bed to get to church so I could get the coffe plugged in. The sunlight was just fading into the sky and I thought about the family and friends that were down at Bellerive Park for the Sunrise Service. This little park is a perfect place to watch the sun come up as the view to the east is introduced my the Mighty Mississippi River, then slowly told by the flat terrain of western Illinois. I've yet to make this service because I'm always back at church getting their breakfast ready. On this chilly morning I knew they wouldn't be long. I was right; they showed up ready to eat at ten after seven. Tom Boyer and his wife, who live on the corner of Bellerive and Louisiana are always the first to arrive. Tom is a veteran of the Korean War and he will always approach me to say, "Do you need help with anything?" "No, thanks, Tom, just have a ...
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Concert for George

The Concert for George, a tribute to George Harrison, was on PBS the other night and we all sat down to watch it. It brought me to tears several times. What exactly brought on the tears? Well, it's like this: Eric Clapton was of course a close friend of George's for many years. So he was the producer of the show. Jeff Lynn was there too. Jeff Lynn is one of the premiere rock producers ever. So the show was just plain good. But what really did it was the authenticity of the guitar work. George Harrison was "just the guitar" player of the Beatles. So they happen to be the biggest rock act ever, he's still just the guitar player. You don't hear the extended solos from Harrison that we've become used to in the rock n roll world. Typically, just 8 bars - sometimes 16. When he took the solo, it counted. It had melody. It meant something. So Clapton was smart enough to get two great guitarists to back up the sound for this concert. And man were they good. The...
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Old Connections

Tonight I taught a guitar lesson for a young girl named Caitlin Robinson. She's the daughter of Kim and Libby Robinson, now divorced. Kim is the older brother of Dave and Dave is one of my oldest friends. I was introduced to Dave in 1973 by my cousin Russ. They were juniors at Cleveland High School that year and I was a freshman. I didn't get to know him to well until the following year when we had the same Creative Writing class. This is when I learned that Dave was a gifted writer. Our teacher, Mr. Tom Potthast, (now deceased) always had an assignment for us. Every single night. It was usually not required to be lengthy, and many times he would just make something up as the bell was ringing. As we're all standing up to get to our next class, he would yell out, "OK, 500 words on...(small pause)...A radio show; you're a script writer for a radio show. 500 words." I'd be saying to myself, "What the...?" But Dave, well he'd wait until...
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