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PAST
RAMBLINGS - 25
(collection of past Homepage greetings and stories)
Nov 1, 2009 -to-
Mar 21, 2010
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November 1,
2009
Howdy my autumnal friends,
Howdy my autumnal friends,
Howdy my autumnal friends,
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What a
magnificent fall it has been here in
the Northwest. The maple and
chestnut leaves have been so
beautiful. I must say though,
they're not quite so pretty when the
rain turns 'em into one big soggy
leaf soup. There you are headed down
the sidewalk on a wonderful October
day, your beard all trimmed up, your
mood all perky and so proud o' your
new sunflower earmuffs. Then you
feel a glitch in your footing, your
arms start to windmillin' and your
neck goes all rubberish. There is a
moment, a millisecond, when time
stands still and you think, "Lawdy,
don't let nobody be watchin' this!"
Just as your body thuds into the
earth, your teeth sink into your own
belly and your tender tailbone goes
thumping down a dozen stairsteps.
Yeoowww!!! That can't be the way a
person's day is s'posed to go.
Which is
where I come rushing in!
Today, my friends, is your lucky
day, as I am making available to
you, for the first time anywhere, my
one-of-a-kind invention,
MT's Big Ol' Bohunkus Protector!
It's thick! It's padded! It slides
down the back of your panties (or
drawers) and I'll guarantee* you
podnas, you'll be taking big leaps
off overpasses and landin' square on
your butt, unharmed and happy as a
kitten. In fact, I predict that once
you're wearin' my Bohunkus
Protector, you'll be tempted to
insult bullies everywhere, since the
searing pain of rapid, swift kicks
to the anal area will be a thing of
your past. With my BP in place,
you'll simply turn around, grin real
big and say, "Wha?? Is there a fly
bumpin' up against me?" (*not an
actual guarantee, results may vary
according to individual nerve
endings, sharpness of boots, etc.)
Well, enough
about my invention skills. I don't
mean to brag, it's just that I feel
a call to share my gifts with the
world. |
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 My
sweetheart, Patricia, and I recently
spent several days on a quiet
getaway on Orcas Island. (I haven't
told her yet about the BP, I fear it
would spoil her slender silhouette)
We go there every October but had
almost cancelled this year when
weather reports predicted steady
rain every day. But we went anyway
and to our great relief, on the
ferry ride over you could see the
dark clouds breaking up and making
great frisky fun of local
weathermen. Oh, what a chuckle them
clouds had. It was contagious and we
found ourselves rolling on the ferry
deck, wheezing along with them wacky
gray cumuli.
Our first night
in our room at the Inn we were
personally howled at by a stormy
wind that sounded as if it would
leave a path of broken trees by
morning. All night long the wind
whistled and yelped and pounded the
cliff below our room, rattling the
shutters like a hurricane while we
snuggled up against each other under
a quilt so heavy a person could
possibly suffocate. Normally, I roll
my side of the heavy covers onto
Patricia, therefore doubling up the
mass on her, and then I just use a
light sheet on my side. But that
storm was a woolly one. By morning
the area had been transformed to the
calmest, most peaceful world you
could imagine.
I often tell
Patricia that she has made a poet of
me. Yes, I have songs that feel like
poetry, but I've never in my life
been moved to write poetry the way I
have since we came together four
years ago. Sometimes they are deeply
meaningful, sometimes just little
sketches of the moment. Here is one
I wrote her that morning in our room
after the storm and sent to her
laptop, which was a mere five feet
from mine. |
He Waits
Outside is wind
Shearing, scouring, sawing
Against rocky shores
Shoving trees aside to get
Somewhere
Where do
the birds hide
When wind
like this
Prowls the
woods
The gravel beaches
And meandering country
roads?
He sees only
gulls and crows
Fixed
still in the sky
Riding
ragged waves of air
Then
dropping to the beach
Feathers ruffled
He
writes, gazing out glass
Over the bay
Past buck
fence
Through black
spruce outline
While his
true love applies
Lipstick
On this
stormy morning
He waits
for her
His true love to
emerge
~ for my
true love, Patricia. With
all my love. Michael |
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Have I ever
mentioned that my girlfriend is a
coffee achiever? Yes, she needs her
coffee if she is going to be
expected to do stuff like, well,
talk and walk. So wherever we
travel, I always hop up, put on my
running clothes and head out in
search of some good, solid coffee. A
robust brew is best. Watery? Nope,
that's a good way to get scalded,
podnas.
After bringing
her a couple of nice steaming cups
and watching with breath held,
finally receiving her
infinitesimally slight nod of
approval, I knew it was going to be
a good day. Whee! We explored the
town of East Sound that morning and
hiked various autumn roads leading
outside of town, enjoying the
meadows and trees and houses while
keeping an eye out for locations to
do some taping for a new music
video. Last year we had taped my
song, Things That I Don't Know and
posted it on
YouTube
and it's been
one of our favorite videos - like a
sweet postcard of our days on Orcas.
 The
morning was foggy and cold, not the
best light for a video, but when we
found a magnificent Chestnut tree
rising out of the mist in full,
glorious golden color, we decided
that had to be the spot for our
video. So we drove back to the Inn
to get the camera and guitar.
By the time we
returned, we were dismayed to find
that there under the chestnut tree
was a teenaged girl slouching on a
big stone, looking like she was in
no big hurry to leave. She was
dressed all in black, leaning
against a long, low granite boulder
and fiddling with her iPod. I didn't
understand that she was a specific
type of teenager until Patricia,
having two daughters in their teens,
explained, "Uh-oh, there is always a
Goth Kid just where you don't need
one." I looked over at her,
impressed with her street smarts.
"Is that what she is?" I asked,
fascinated. "A Goth Kid? Is there a
certain way you communicate with
them?" "Yes," Patricia replied, "You
sing songs from The Cure and it
repulses them that any adult would
know about their sacred music. They
usually groan, roll their eyes in an
exaggerated way and move on." I knew
exactly what she was talking about.
As a teenager I'd always hated it
whenever I'd hear my dad humming I
Am The Walrus. "Hum your own songs!"
I'd imagine myself shouting. "Hum A
Bicycle Built for Two or something!
Leave John Lennon out of it!"
 That Goth Kid
was very sly. Just to scare us, the
next time we came by she was lying
down. Clearly, she was going nowhere
until Halloween. But then a few
minutes later she perked up, looked
around, then strolled off toward
town. Patricia's theory? "I was
sending her a psychic message that I
was about ten seconds from going
over there and humming a Zombina and
the Skeletones song." I looked at
her in pure awe. The things my girl
knows! With the coast clear now, I
pulled the truck into position so
that we could use my headlights for
additional light, then I got out my
guitar, cued up the song on CD, and
started strolling around and singing
under that glorious chestnut tree,
while Patricia set the white balance
and prepared the camera.
The light was
terrible for photography that day -
and by terrible what I mean to say
is that my face looked like a pasty
ol' pie crust. But despite this
tragedy - which comes with middle
age and years of poor lotion
application habits - that tree was
so glorious that we decided we had
to give it a try and just hope
people would look mostly at the tree
and not so much at the front-ish
part of my head.
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 Listen
podnas, let me tell you. It ain't
the easiest thing to do, being
Director's Assistant on a video of
my own song. Patricia is the
director, the cinematographer and
editor. I am in charge of the
logistics and mechanics of the
taping; light, sound, props,
performance, and of course, my own
face. It's not easy, doing all that
stuff with my guitar strapped on and
at the same time trying cue up the
iPod and still get in on the
beginning chord, stay in the light,
match up my lips to the lyrics,
strum in a realistic way and look
carefree at the same time. We
usually get about three or four
versions of the song under my belt
before I remember to take that grim
expression off my face. Patricia
always cheers me up and once I'm
loosened up, it goes pretty well.
She loves me and my music so much
that, well, a man just can't stay
somber for long.
She posted my
song, The Way Out West, on
YouTube a
few weeks ago when there were a few
days of summer still left. We took
my Malibu convertible out to the
Snoqualmie River and found a
beautiful spot among trees to shoot. When we get our
new one under the big Chestnut tree
posted, I'll send you notice.
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Michael Tomlinson and Friends in Concert
Michael Tomlinson and Friends in Concert
Michael Tomlinson and Friends in Concert
Friday, Nov. 20, 8pm at Town Hall
Seattle
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I'm performing
with a small band for the first time
in many years and I'm excited to get
to share the stage with my friends:
Brian Dina on guitar and flute, Jay
Kenny on keyboards, TJ Morris on
percussion. This show has a theme
I'd like to tell you about. In these
last many months of arguing and
sensationalism around the efforts to
find a way to either create or deny
health care for everyone in our
nation, I've been as disheartened as
you've probably been. It just seems
like one big mess of human
pettiness.
One day I was
considering this when an old dream
of mine resurfaced. I wanted to
bring together people who work in
Healing Arts with the rest of us,
the people who support and need what
they do. So I am calling my concert,
In Celebration of Our Healing Arts
Community. Maybe in the midst of so
much politicization, we can have an
evening dedicated to healing in all
it's forms. That's what my concert
is dedicated to.
My hope and
dream is that there will be good
will and the spirit of healing among
all who come to the concert - and
that people will share word of this
event/gathering with friends,
family, co-workers. We're opening
the doors an hour before the show so
that those who wish to come early
and enjoy the community, will do so.
I know it is going to be a night to
remember and I am inviting you to
come and be a part of it.
More about the concert
here
If you have a
service or product of some kind you
would like to promote at the
concert, perhaps you'd like to
secure a
Sponsorship Table to display at
the reception and intermission. Read
more about it here.
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 Thank you for
reading my latest rambling. It means
a lot to me that you check in on me
now and again and read what I have
to share. Ever since my first
Thanksgiving in Seattle, back in
1983, when I first sang a new song
to a house full of happy people at
the end of a day of feasting,
talking, laughing, Run Like the
River Runs, has been a song of
Thanksgiving to me. It speaks of the
wonder I still feel at being alive,
of the gratitude I have for life and
Nature and friends, of the changing
seasons that are the fabric of our
lives and of the eternal questions I
hope I never stop asking: "If I
breathe like the wind, will I ever
learn it all?"
I'd like to
leave you with they lyrics to my
song and a wish for a beautiful
autumn and Thanksgiving Season for
you and all your loved ones. Thank
you for listening and sharing my
music over the years.
Your friend in
blustery Seattle,
~Michael
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Run Like the River Runs
©1985 Michael
Tomlinson
Tell me
what you will, my blue-winged friend
Did you hear me from where you drifted on the wind?
This autumn wind on a summer day
Sure can turn a blue sky gray
Oh, it's a lonely day and cold
There are secrets you've not told
And there are part of me that I have never known
And I wonder if you see
All the walls inside of me?
Feathered friend, I wish that you could say
Why you sit on that wooden post and watch me play
The sky is yours and the ground is mine
Do you want to trade sometime?
And let me soar above these trees
See the earth through golden leaves
Breathe the air and watch the rivers from above
There are many things to love
But it's these that call to me
If I
run like the river runs, if I fall like water
falls
Oh, if I breathe like the wind, will I ever
learn it all?
If I change like autumn leaves
If I grow like
summer weeds
If I'm as quiet as snow, will I ever know it
all?
Learn it all?
I don't
really know from day to day
If I'm willing to walk this road or turn away
But something here in the silver sky is exactly what
I need
To begin the song again, help me sing my winged
friend
With the melody you rise and float away
Then I'll leave the way I came, but I'll never be
the same
If I
run like the river runs, if I fall like water
falls
Oh, if I breathe like the wind, will I ever
learn it all?
If I change like autumn leaves
If I grow like
summer weeds
If I'm as quiet as snow, will I ever know it
all?
Learn it all?
from the CD Run This Way Forever
and
the solo-acoustic Watching the Storm
Roll In
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December 5, 2009 |
Howdy
Holidays my friends,
 I
took a hike this frosty evening just
before dusk. My friend Brian and I
had been working on my website all
day and we barely got finished and
outside before dark to take a hike
down by the river. We were in
Bothell, a homey little town outside
of Seattle, and at that time of day
there you often see hundreds of
crows returning to roost for the
night. It's always a thrill, but
tonight was something different. For
one thing, the sky itself was
spectacular, a kind of bruised peach
above us, with sculpted clouds of
mango overlapping like giant fish
scales all the way to the sinking
western sun. We had just stepped
outside when we looked up and the
entire sky was filled with crows -
all flying in a northeast direction.
The noise of it alone was
breathtaking. And just when you'd think
that had to be all of them, hundreds
more would appear, wave after wave
of them surging from over the tops
of huge bare maples and dark Douglas
firs. Under this wild cacophony we
wandered through the small downtown
and down toward the river with the
sky alive like nothing I'd ever seen
before. Crows lined all the
telephone wires, they filled stark
winter trees like dark Christmas
decorations. And down near the river
they increased in number until you
could literally see thousands in the
sky above and to the horizon. We
stood there turning in circles,
looking up, making noises of
astonishment for several minutes. I
said to Brian, "you call a group
of them a 'murder' of crows." I
wondered what you would call
ten-thousand of them, because that's
what I'd have guessed we were
seeing.
I wished I'd had a
camera with me, but even then that
unimaginable scene would have been
impossible to capture, surrounding
us on all sides and in all parts of
the sky. It felt like such a sign, a
blessing, an unforgettable gesture
of good fortune, to get to see such
miraculous bird life, abounding in
such numbers and filling the world
around us. I thought, they probably
look at us on the ground and think
the same thing sometimes, "Wow!
Look at all the people! Where do you
think they sleep?" I'm just
guessing, I don't speak crow so I
don't actually know what they may
have been saying.
I just
wanted to tell you about the strange
beauty of it all because it was one
of those moments when you look at
something in nature and cannot
possibly fathom how such a thing
could exist. You can't help but feel
a sense of wonder and grace. Those
thousands of crows left us dazed and
breathless. It's night now and I
guess they're probably quiet now,
filling a few hundred trees along
the wetlands and huddled close
together for warmth. I'm just glad
we got to witness that magnificent
sky full of crows.
My Recent Concert: on
November 20th
I performed one of the most
memorable concerts of my life. In
fact, compared to that one, all
others blur into one big smear of
strummin' and yodeling and joking
and guffawing. For the first time in
a decade I performed with a small
ensemble of musicians. But it is in
the getting there that the
interesting part of the story lies.
Yep, I'm talking about Sound Check.
Now, audiences don't really know
much about sound checks. Do ye? I
think not. Don't you just think of
the players standing there saying,
"Check, check, check!" into a
microphone and then going backstage
to eat green M&Ms and sip Chivas?
That's what I always thought too.
But nope, there is more to it. In
fact, on that very evening the sound
check took three hours! I'm serious
as dang chewed off thumb. We stood
on that stage from just after four
pm until seven-thirty, leaving us
exhausted, dizzy, hallucinating,
starved and about to collapse from
the terror of what was to come
during the actual concert.
Brian
impresses MT with dazzling
guitar work. |
Let me 'splain,
please. Town Hall Seattle is a
wonderful hall. For 80 years it was
a church. A vast open space that,
from stage, looks almost like a
large dome with two smaller domes
merging. It's now used for public
speakers, authors and singers. But I
ask you, have you ever sang directly
into the Goodyear Blimp? That's the
sort of acoustics I'm talking about,
podnas. With every note I sang,
there were at least twelve of me
answering back. Now, toss in the six
strings of my guitar, drums and
cymbals, shakers, keyboards, lead
guitar and flute! If somebody had
invented a gigantic blender and
tossed us all in there and hit
frappe', well, that's the sound
you'd hear.
We had
rehearsed so diligently! Brian Dina
and I had worked out our guitar
parts carefully over several months.
TJ Morris, my percussionist, and Jay
Kenney, my keyboard player, had also
worked very studiously to learn
their parts. But during The Sound
Check From Hell, we found
preparation to be highly overrated.
We could have walked in there with
instruments none of us had ever seen
before and sounded at least that
good.
Now try to be
me for a minute. I've been sending
out announcements for weeks. Placing
posters and fliers all over Seattle.
Really talkin' up the show. An ad
has been playing on the radio all
week about this event. My first time
with a band in a decade. My point
is, people are about to walk in the
door expecting this concert to be
more than a jumble of warbly sounds
and goofy grins. But we are growing
more and more terrified that that's
all they're going to get. By the
time we were told that we must leave
the stage so that the crowd can come
in, we are zombies. I'm afraid to
look my players in the eyes for fear
that they will see my despair, my
realization that I am about to
receive the equivalent of a public
butt spanking right there on stage.
My
sweetheart whispers stuff to
the pooch |
Noticing our
pallid complexions and stupefied
demeanors, Patricia and our good
friend, Rick, had wandered dark,
rainy streets in the night and found
a place to have sandwiches made for
us. They were tough sandwiches, made
with hunks o' bread that you might
imagine a mountain man breaking off
and gnawing on all winter long. But
they were delicious. We sat in the
green room gnawing, occasionally
swallowing whenever we judged the
crusty cellulose to be ready for
passage downward. But we didn't so
much as look at each other. We were
like criminals headed for hanging
and unable to face head-on our
destiny. So we just chewed and
awaited our humiliation.
Though we
couldn't hear them from the green
room, in the Great Hall people were
filling their seats, talking
excitedly, their anticipation so
very different from ours. I'm sure
they imagined delightful musical
sounds where we ourselves knew that
only screechy farts and anguished
bellows were about to fill the hall.
I changed clothes, at the last
minute scrapping the idea of wearing
the new fedora I'd bought for the
show. It's a great hat but lends a
sort of goofy cool that I thought
might not go so well with sheer
onstage terror. Nope, I was going to
need my most sincere and humble
appearance this evening. I would
need to state my case that it was
not we who sounded like honking
geeze and pounding surf, but rather,
the acoustics of the dome-like room.
Finally, I
heard my name announced and stepped
onto the large stage, surprised at
how many folks had turned out. There
were probably 400 people there and
their applause and whistles and
exclamations were quite an uplifting
surprise. Still, l was going to have
to pick up my guitar now and sing
into the deep well we'd been dropped
into during sound check. I said
something or other to greet them,
strapped on my guitar and started
the rhythmic strumming of the first
song I'd written after moving to
Seattle in 1983, No Bad Dreams. Many
recognized the chords and started
applauding again. I took a deep
breath and sang the first line,
"Dreaming on, I'm all alone, a
midnight walk and they don't know. .
. " What!? I was stunned! It sounded
good! The layer upon layer of echo
in that big dome was being soaked up
and altered by the four hundred
bodies, coats, purses, heads of
thinning hair! By the first chorus I
was a changed man, my sentence
reversed, a presidential pardon
issued, and I was almost cocky
breezing through the bluesy lines,
"I have no bad dreams, just a few
tough scenes, any way you want it
you can make it be, from now on I'm
living, living my dreams . . ."
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I cannot
tell you how wonderful it
felt to realize that I sounded good
on that stage - like I'd never
sang better, tossing off spontaneous
flurries of notes made up on the
spot, scatting and reveling in
the resonance of my own voice. It
was such a joyous feeling. I looked
down at the first row and saw
Patricia beaming that beautiful
smile at me and knew that she must
have struck a deal with Saints. The
sound was amazing. Then the band
came out and we broke into the
opening chords of Asphalt Dream.
The notes were clear, not
awash in echoes, like yodelers in the high Swiss
Alps! It was our first show
together but the band did a
wonderful job. We responded to each
other's playing, and the audience
seemed very happy
with what they heard. The entire
evening was a delight.
Earlier that
week, knowing I could not completely
fill the hall on the small amount of
money I had for advertising, I'd
been looking for ways to give some
tickets away to folks who could not
afford to attend. Then I heard from
someone associated with Seattle
Cancer Care Alliance who asked if
I'd be willing to give some tickets
to their patients. I was thrilled at
the idea. I called them and offered
tickets to patients and their
families, even staff and volunteers.
They loved the idea and asked for
100 tickets. I delivered them that
day and couldn't wait to tell the
band.
 Now, you
might think that a performer could
only be so happy about a hunk o'
tickets being given away. After all,
I'm trying to make a living at this.
But you cannot imagine what it meant
to me to know that folks associated
with Seattle Cancer Care Alliance
were going to be at our concert. To
know that people going through such
difficult times would be listening
to my songs of love and friendship
and gratitude, earth and sky,
seasons and weather, I knew that it
was going to matter to them, that it
would be uplifting and hopeful music
for them to hear. And it gave our
performing so much more purpose. I
love these songs, I am thrilled at
how these melodies move through me
and become songs that feel like
friends in my life. I love that they
become friends to people around the
world. And when there is the
opportunity for them to be used
especially to help people who need
something extra, it's as rich as it
gets.
That night I
saw so much in the eyes of the folks
listening. I saw their love and
their appreciation. I saw
forgiveness and compassion. I heard
them laugh and I sometimes saw tears
flowing. I saw men reach out and
pull their wives closer. I saw
people hold hands and others start
friendships. It is truly the reason
I sing my songs and I was given the
gift of getting to see what can
happen when I follow my heart and
share what I have been given.
If you were
there, thank you. I'm honored that
you came to spend the evening with
us. And if you were one who sent
good wishes, thank you for that.
There is a lot of good will in my
life and I feel it every day.
Thank you for
visiting my website and taking the
time to read my latest rambling. I
started this at five in the morning
and now it's nearly 7 and I'm
thinking it would be nice to close
and maybe crawl back into bed for a
bit more snoozing.
I hope your
Holiday Season is a loving one. Find
some way to make it so, my friends.
Reach out to someone and offer a
kind gesture. That is what this is
all about. A simple hand on a
shoulder or doing something special
for a friend or stranger, it's going
to turn out to be your greatest gift
of the year.
And don't
forget to take some deep breaths and
get lost in the present moment now
and then. It's pretty peaceful in
there.
Your friend
in frosty Seattle,
~Michael
My music for Holiday gifts?
My music for Holiday gifts?
My music for Holiday gifts?
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New videos on YouTube
New videos on YouTube
New videos on YouTube
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My
sweetheart,
Patricia,
has posted a
couple more
music videos
for songs
from my new
CD. They've
been getting
great
response.
Take a look
and if you
like them,
be sure and
leave a
comment.
The Way
Out West
Valentine |
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I spent a couple of days writing a quite humorous little rambling for you, but then, with the disaster in Haiti, I just couldn't focus on silliness right now with so many in the middle of such pain. It's not that I don't think laughter is always good medicine, it is. But I also know there is a time for sincerity and to focus love and light and good will - and that's what I want to do now. I'm offering up a new free song download this month, in honor of the people in Haiti who have lost so much that they love, their loved ones, their homes and, in some cases, even their cities and towns.
Seeing
footage of Haitian cities
crumbled in ruins, I thought of
a song I once wrote about
grieving moving away from a city
that I loved so much. The song
is "All
is Clear"
and is one of my favorite. I've
long performed it onstage with
the introduction, "this is about
leaving a city that you love,"
but after hearing from the
family of a man dying in the
hospital, who gathered his
family around and said, "this is
what I want to say to you," and
then played "All is Clear", I
came to see it as a song about
surviving sorrow and loss and
soaring again with new life and
love. It is a message I would
hope to share with our brothers
and sisters in Haiti right now.
I have watched my
friends
Scatter
out across the land
And I wonder if I'll
live so long
To
see them all again
|
And if I don't, well
it don't matter
They will love me
all the same
For
the hearts that I
love most
Remain
unchained
|
~chorus~
Way up
here it all is clear
And I'm not afraid
of living with these
tears
Way up here
it all is clear
And I'm not afraid
of living in these
years
|
|
Listen |
|
|
January 19, 2010 |
|
|
I
know is not easy to keep from
falling into a sense of doom
when we see what is happening
there. That is why I am watching
very little of the footage
shown. For one thing, we cannot
possibly see the miracles, the
precious nuance involved as
millions of people love and help
each other through this. On
television news programs are
mostly going to show the most
desperate or aggravated
situations. In my case, it feels
better to give what I can
outwardly, and then to hold the
people there silently in my
prayers, imagining them rising
to the level of love and
strength that will be required
of them.
It is a
small thing, but I am sending $5
from each CD order I receive to
the Red Cross in Haiti. If you
wish to take part in this, just
order a CD and in the comments
area, say, "please send $5 to
Haiti." I will do that.
~Making a Living in 2010~
~Making a Living in 2010~
~Making a Living in
2010~
|
|
In the
first place, who the heck ever
thought, as a kid, that you'd
even make it to the year, 2010?
But here we are friends, and now
we've got to do something about
it.
In our lifetimes, there has
never been this much upheaval on
a massive scale involving the
remaking of social systems
involving livelihood and
education and housing. It can be
hard not to be frightened by
this when you see how many
millions have lost their homes
and jobs in these last few
years. But I know there is more
happening than we can possibly
understand. There is a wave of
change in process on our planet
and much of this change is for a
greater good, even a healing and
purging. Still, it's painful and
disorienting getting there, and
we need to have compassion for
each other along the way.
This stress is not limited to
folks working day-to-day jobs.
Like many of you, I'm trying to
flow with it to, trying not get
overly fearful, and at the same
time attempting to stay open to
creative solutions for how I may
get through this time until the
economy is flowing again. As
important as music may be to our
upliftment and well being, it is
pretty much the last thing that
anybody considers buying when
money is tight. Buying tickets
for concerts seems to fall
several rungs down below paying
the mortgage and insurance
payments.
In promoting nearly all my
concerts I include a message
that says, "if you're going
through financial difficulty and
cannot afford to attend, but
would like to, please email me."
Though I do have a few people
take me up on this, there are
very few who are willing to. I
understand, we sometimes feel
embarrassed by our down turn in
luck and withdraw to weather it
alone. But honestly, if there
was ever a time to share with
each other openly about our
difficulties, this is the time.
I encourage you to find a
neighbor or friend to tell. You
can always let them know that
you are not expecting them to
pull them through this, just
share honestly about your
struggle. There are two things
that I know with all my heart
will happen: 1.) you will feel
lighter and more hopeful - and
new possibilities that would
never otherwise have occurred
with be happening around you.
2.) You will have done a great
service for your friend, trusting
them, allowing them to listen to
you and hold compassion for
you.
In my own
case, I am breathing and
meditating, talking to a few
friends and then doing the
things to open up possibilities
that I feel led to do. I can't
say that I have come up with any
brilliant answers, but I
made one decision recently that
really feels right - though it
might seem at first completely
backwards. I decided that I
would play more benefit concerts
- and work toward finding
sponsors who believe in what I'm
doing and want to help me
accomplish this by supporting
my shows. That way ticket sales
can always go to the worthy
causes and I can still make a
living by being paid partially
by sponsors.
Sometimes,
when I
am
feeling
a sense
of lack,
the
greatest
thing I
can do
is to
give
something
away.
That is
what I'm
doing
now, and
partly
why I
began to
give a
way
thousands
of free
downloads
of some
of my
songs.
Yes, I
would
very
much
love to
sell
more
CDs, but
when it
comes
right
down to
it, if
my songs
can give
you
something
soothing
and
comforting,
then I'd
rather
give
them to
you than
for you
not to
have
them at all.
|
Private Concerts at Your House (or venue of your choice)
Private Concerts at Your House (or venue of your choice)
Private Concerts
at Your House (or venue of your choice)
|
Over the last 7 or 8 years about
half of my annual concerts have
been private concerts, where I
am invited to perform for family
and friends, small communities
and companies. These are some of
my favorite concerts and have
been some of the most intimate
and memorable of my life. I've
played at a lodge in Glacier
Bay, Alaska, on an island in
Maine, a lovely home at the edge
of the woods in New Hampshire.
I've played on a deck
overlooking a lake in
California, on a little stage in
a backyard in Vermont, a great
winter lodge in Lake Tahoe, and
to a hundred people enjoying a
backyard sunset in Casper,
Wyoming. Sometimes it's an
intimate living room setting, a
couple of months ago it was next
to a fireplace in a small
Washington State winery. I just
never know where the next one
will be - and that's what this
is all about.
My fee over the last few years
has averaged $5,000, plus
travel, for these private
concerts. (that includes
juggling, donkey dancing and
cake decorating) Though there
are plenty of folks around who
can afford such things, I
certainly wouldn't be one of
them. And I know most of you
aren't. In hopes of sparking
more interest in private
concerts around the country in
this new year, I'm going to drop
my normal fee and invite people
to make a proposal. If you'd
like me to come to your house or
your town and perform a concert
for friends and family or your
employees or colleagues, make me
an offer. If I can make it work
with other events I am doing, I
will take you up on it and
together we'll create a concert
that you and your loved ones
will be talking about for
years.
Please
visit my private concerts link
and read a bit about what my
concerts are like, what some of
the considerations are in
pricing and travel, etc. Then if
you are interested, feel free to
write me and we'll see if we can
make your vision come true.
mt@michaeltomlinson.com
|
~Sponsors~
~Sponsors~
~Sponsors~
|
|
In the
coming months I will be
accepting tasteful sponsorships
for my free song downloads page.
Since I have giving songs away,
I have been averaging more than
2000 downloads and listens of
each song, and getting several
thousand hits to my page per
month. I've found that a number
of folks have been sending
friends who were unfamiliar with
my music, and that's been a
great boost for me.
For potential sponsors, you'll
be noticed by an audience of
thoughtful people, who take the
time to go and listen to a song
- and may well be open to what
you are selling. Of course, I
will have to feel that we are in
alignment with each other. I've
never allowed my music to be
used for commercials because I
like to know that there is an
integrity in what I do and that
I won't use my music to sell
something I don't believe in.
Whether you have a book or some
artistic creation to advertise,
a business or some great cause
to promote, if you wish to
sponsor the download of one of
my songs, please get in touch
and we'll explore the
possibilities.
My first
sponsor is The Green Brush,
Eco-friendly Painting. They are
a highly trusted Seattle-based
company specializing in painting
with environmentally safe,
non-toxic paints and stains. I
really appreciate their support
and hope you'll visit their site
the next time you're thinking of
painting or redecorating your
home or business. www.greenbrush.com
|
|
|
Thank
you for visiting my site. Next month
I promise I'll be back to my ol'
humorous stories. I hope you're
doing well this early new year and
that you're remembering to take some
deep breaths now and again.
Your
friend in windy Seattle,
~Michael |
|
|
|
Howdy
my friends,
You
know that feeling of frantic
vertigo you get when you
unexpectedly see yourself in
the mirror and are startled
to realize that something
about your appearance does
not look at all like you
thought? Well, my experience
last evening was a little
bit like that. I had just
returned home from being out
and about for several hours;
traipsing in and out of the
post office, through my
neighborhood market and into
a coffee shop for a lengthy
stay, when I noticed a
shocking discrepancy in my
footwear. How is it possible
that for over seven hours I
never noticed that I
 had on
my left foot a shoe of an
entirely different color
than the one on my right
foot? I'm as serious as a
detached retina, my friends.
All day long I had trotted
around in public wearing one
gray shoe and one brown one.
Did people see this and
snicker? I couldn't say. I
certainly don't recall
anybody pointing toward my
feet and wheezing in
hysterics, but it's possible
that I missed it. I tend to
block out all potentially
life-threatening
humiliation. I can only pray
that I have not unknowingly
been doing this sort of
thing for years. If I am
wrong though, if you have
seen me at the opera with my
pants on backwards or
perhaps, at church with my
deer antlers on upside down,
I'd rather just not know.
The next time you notice me
in such a state, PLEASE DO
NOT TELL ME! Just bite down
hard on your lip and try to
make it past me without
snickering. And never, ever
reveal to me what a buffoon
I am. I will simply continue
on, thinking of myself
always as "The Continental;
Well-Dressed Man About
Town." |
|
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~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
~ ~
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Yesterday, while typing on
my laptop and oblivious to
my footwear faux pax, I
happened to witness a very
tender scene at Tully's
Coffee and thought I'd tell
you about it. I don't often
write at coffee houses
anymore because of the
caffeine factor: It can put
an edgy spin on my writing
that I do not intend. For
instance, I might set out to
write about the delightful
chirping of young chickadees
in springtime. But then,
inexplicably, I'll find
myself pounding out a
frenzied, sweat inducing
account of careening in a
stolen vehicle to the squeal
of bald tires on a hot tar
road. Why do I do this? My
parole officer suspects it's
the caffeine but will not
rule out some other root
cause. At any rate, I seldom
can find a way to tie my
precious chickadees back
into the story line and they
usually end up flittering
off on some flimsy tangent.
 |
Perhaps
caffeine also explains why
in my real life, on the rare
occasions when I have drunk
a whole gallon of thick,
black coffee with a dozen
donuts, I will sometimes
lose track of my activities
and later notice broken
furniture, one or two of my
teeth missing, and deep tire
ruts in my front yard. The
furniture I can glue back
together, the ruts are
easily filled. I must admit
though, tooth carving is a
fine art that I have not
sufficiently mastered.
Thankfully, plastic
Halloween teeth from China
are cheap and easy to find.
(I'm pretty sure they are
well monitored for lead and
other toxins - please let me
know if you hear otherwise)
Anyway, for today's
rambling, let's just keep it
simple and caffeine-free,
shall we?
I was
sitting in a Tully's Coffee
house yesterday, about to
begin writing, when a
conversation between two
people began at the table
next to me. It was one of
those intensely personal
conversations that you
simply cannot help but
listen to, even though you
feel you may be invading
someone's privacy. |
A
man had sat down in a chair
with his back to me. A few
minutes later a woman
arrived and sat across from
him. Their appointment was
clearly pre-arranged and
seemed to be a business
meeting. I didn't pay much
attention at first. Then
their short greeting ended
and the woman somewhat
loudly broached the subject
of her very hurt feelings.
It was a surprising
statement to hear so boldly
announced in the quiet of a
coffee house. I looked
around and saw that every
person within earshot had
also looked up from their
reading and typing to give
this their full attention.
How amazing, I thought, that
no matter we were doing, we
all paused when we heard
someone bring up the subject
of hurt feelings.
From his sudden silence, I
was pretty sure that the man
was as taken aback as we
were. I think he'd thought
this was to be a friendly
visit and not one where he
was going to be taken to
task for something. I
couldn't see the woman from
where I sat, but her voice
was firm and surprisingly
loud, considering the public
venue. If you hadn't
understood English, you'd
have easily thought from her
assertive tone that she was
talking about business, but
it was all about emotion. I
tried to get to my writing,
but it was as if there was a
vacuum in the room and
everyone's focus was being
pulled toward their table.
Her words were
clipped and distinct as she
detailed an event from the
week before when she and the
man were sitting with groups
at separate tables and he
had apparently taken offense
at something she had said.
He started to blurt out a
few words in his own
defense, but she kept
talking and he seemed to
change his mind and sat
there listening to
everything she had to say.
When she finished, the void
she left seemed vast. It
screamed for a response. But
he waited a few seconds,
maybe taking in what she'd
said. Then very
compassionately, he spoke.
"I'm sorry. I didn't
know you felt that way. I
guess I was feeling kind of
hurt, too." It was not what
any of us expected. Two
women watching from nearby
tables suddenly exhaled and
relaxed, their postures
immediately less guarded. It
was as if the barometric
pressure had just shifted,
everyone's ears had popped,
and we could all breathe
again.
Then, in a
completely new voice, she
divulged something to him as
if he were her trusted
confidante. "Not many people
know this about me,"
she
said, "but I have fairly
extensive hearing loss. So
sometimes I not only don't
hear well, I also speak too
loudly and don't realize
that I have done so."
That explained the loud
presentation. I realized how
wrong I'd been about her,
judging her from her manner
and voice. She went on to
explain that at a gathering
the week before, when the
conversation at this man's
table had grown too
boisterous and loud for her
enjoyment, she had made a
comment that they should
"hold it down over there!"
The thing was, she
explained, she had thought
she was speaking to only the
people at her own table, but
actually, the folks at his
table had heard her and
thought it was a rude
admonishment. They had been
taken aback that she was
shouting at them to stop
having such a good time.
"I had no idea!"
he
said. "We just thought you
were angry with us."
What happened next truly
surprised me. She began to
cry, and in an almost
whimpering tone she said,
"I-I-I-I'm sorry," and began
to quietly sob, her posture
crumpled smaller and more
fragile. It couldn't
possibly have been a more
surprising change of mood.
He pushed his stool back,
got up and walked around to
her and gently embraced her.
It was the first time I'd
been able to really see them
and it was truly the most
genuine, loving sight. It
felt like everyone in the
room let out a sigh. As the
two embraced, I could only
hear muted, murmurs between
them now, something private
that the rest of us could
not discern. I was glad for
that, wishing for them their
own private moment of
healing and forgiveness.
As I gazed at some of
the strangers in the room,
we held each other's eyes
for an unusually long
second. It was a moment
filled with our mutual
humanness; the things in us
that are so very much alike.
Every one of us knew
intimately, from personal
experience, something very
close to what we'd just
witnessed; the story of hurt
feelings and
misunderstandings and rigid
stances. But also, we were
reminded of the possibility
of forgiveness, of the
tender healing that can come
out of pain when we finally
stop holding onto a wrong we
feel has been done to us and
allow ourselves to breathe
in love again. Sometimes it
just takes the courage to
listen to someone's story.
As they hugged, I heard
him tell her that he was so
glad she'd let him about her
hearing. They even laughed
softly for a moment. A few
minutes later she left, her
whole being radiating peace
and gratitude, the exact
opposite of what she'd
walked in with. He sat there
in silence for a while, and
then a few minutes later, he
left too. And I knew that
whatever I'd planned to
write you about had just
been replaced with that
beautiful healing I'd
witnessed.
I doubt
either of them had any idea
what they'd done for those
of us listening, what they'd
left behind for us to feel
and savor and think about.
And I'm sure they'd be
surprised to know that I had
lingered afterwards to tell
you their small, soft story
of healing - so that we all
might help it to ripple out
even further in the world.
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|
~Concerts~
~Concerts~
~Concerts~
|
 |
| There
are several concerts I'm
working towards. One of my
most exciting is coming up
on
Whidbey Island at
Mukilteo Coffee Roasters
on
April 24. I am so happy to
have found out about them.
Gary and Beth Smith are the
owners and because of their
great love of music and
community, they have built a
performance stage inside
their large roasting room.
They hold concerts there
year-round and have invited
me to perform there. I'll be
doing a benefit for WaifAnimals.org, the animal
rescue organization on
Whidbey Island.
Click
Here and you can
read more about this show. |
|
~A Morning of Music & Conversation~
~A Morning of Music & Conversation~
~A Morning of Music & Conversation~
|
|
Saturday, April 10, 10:00am
to Noon |
 For
several months now I have
been feeling drawn toward
hosting some informal
gatherings where I can play
a few songs, we can talk and
discuss our lives and
thoughts, and then finish
out with a quiet meditation.
I used to do these sessions
during my weekend retreats,
which I named, A
Gathering of Friends.
This will be my first of
a new series of Songs and
Conversation. It will be
held at Ravenna-Eckstein
Community Center in Seattle.
Click here to find out more
about the event. I hope you
can join us. |
|
~Private Concerts~
~Private Concerts~
~Private Concerts~
|
For
several years I have played
concerts in private homes,
backyards, churches and
community centers around the
U.S. Sometimes I'm flown in
for a special birthday
celebration, a wedding, even
a lovely house warming in
Oakland, a few years back. I
love these private shows and
feel that there is something
deeply intimate about
stepping into a world of
friends and family to share
my songs for a day.
If you are interested in
having me come to perform a
special private concert in
your area, please click on
my
Private Concerts link and
read more. We can create an
event that you will still be
talking about for years. |
|
~Free Song Download~
~Free Song Download~
~Free Song Download~
|
|
I
have recently been offering
up a
free song for download
on my website. I've been
surprised at how many folks
have taken me up on my
offer. This month I am
posting one of my favorites
of all my songs, Cherry
Blossom Wine. It's a song
about my love of springtime
and I think you'll really
love this one. It's on my
Watching the Storm Roll In
CD, which is my favorite of
all my solo-acoustic
recordings. Please feel free
to send friends by my site
to download as well.
Everyone is welcome. |
|
Thank you so much for
visiting and for reading my
latest rambling. I never
know what I'll write next,
but I always hope that I
offer you something that
makes you feel your time was
well spent. I hope this
coming springtime is a
lovely one for you and that
you get outside and enjoy
the trees and flowers and
birds. And don't forget to
take some deep breaths now
and then.
Your friend
in breezy Seattle,
~Michael
PS, I'll leave you with
the lyrics to Cherry Blossom
Wine
|
|
Cherry
Blossom Wine
by Michael
Tomlinson
©1999
I was
walking on a
cool
Kind
of cloudy
afternoon
Something
happens in
the spring
I start to
drift
Dreams
are half
already real
Quiet,
waiting to
reveal
When at last
you have the
faith
They can
come alive,
and will
Oh, the way
it all
became is
sweeter than
it seems
And
everything
here was
born within
a dream
And now you
and I are
part of all
that's in
this
Yearning
Heart
That
imagines all
these things
She
scatters
seeds along
the ground
She pours
some water
in a pail
When she
sprinkles it
around
We
all think
it's rain
Raindrops
stream from
the sky
Or from her
eyes, it's
all the same
Her
benevolence
of life
I
just live
and drink it
in
Oh, the way
it all
became is
sweeter than
it seems
And
everything
here was
born within
a dream
And now you
and I are
part of all
that's in
this
Yearning
Heart
That
imagines all
these things
For a
moment I was
lost
In
the cherry
blossom dust
Something
finally
broke the
spell
I'm
going home
I guess
I'm still a
little drunk
On that
cherry
blossom wine
I can never
get enough
I overdo it
every time
Oh, the way
it all
became is
sweeter than
it seems
And
everything
here was
born within
a dream
And now you
and I are
part of all
that's in
this
Yearning
Heart
That
imagines all
these things
From the CD:
Watching the
Storm Roll
In
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